John had always wanted to work in the City.
Ever since he was younger he'd dreamt of a life where the cornfields stopped and the pavements began. With it, the city seemed to hold an anonymity, a sort of protective shield that meant you could be anyone you wanted to be. Small town rural life had thought John one thing, that everybody knew everybody knew everything about everybody; the Banker knew when his Dad hadn't been able to get to Mass, the Hairdresser knew when his mother had accidentally walked out of the store without paying for that bottle of bourbon.
Life didn't seem to grow outside the City, it seemed to stagnate, like you were on a flat surface and could see everything for miles around. With the City, you had hiding spaces, massive creations that pierced the sky and stole the sunshine, themselves each filled with little rooms; places were people could eat, could sleep, could fuck...places where you wouldn't know what was going on. And that was the point. John remembered the McGuire's two farms over, everyone coming together when Mr McGuire passed, yet in the City you could lie in bed for days and nobody would even know.
"You'll hate it" his sister told him, "you'll be back to Hindensburg before the Pumpkin Fair" she'd continued. Samantha had always been her mothers daughter, had always been a hometown girl, and doubtless she'd settle with a farmer - someone whom she'd make very happy - and they'd live a life close to where they'd started it, ploughing fields and sowing oats, their simple pleasures in the satisfaction of knowing how safe and achievable everything was. But every fibre in John's body, every little feeling, constantly told him he needed to jump out of this small pond. And so he did.
He packed up his bag the day he graduated college, he told his mother to forward his certificate in the mail, instead he'd catch the 10.37 from Church Square; and from there he'd cross the cornfields and the deserts and the mountains to reach the City. But what would he do? "Make money" his friend had told him, "the only thing you got to remember about the city is that you need to make money!". And so he'd found himself a job at a Brokerage Firm, a place where fortunes were made and broken in an instant, and resigned himself to making his own American Dream come true. If this truly was the land of the free then he'd need to be brave to get his home.
As the weeks ticked on John was on a roll. Other analyst's called it "beginners luck" but John was making things happen. He'd caught the attention of people who shouldn't have even known he existed. They'd seen him make $200 from bad stock, something should have COST him $2,000; yet he was able to execute and elevate at just the right moment. The Trader's floor was always something special, but this was something extraordinary, and John didn't even mind that they were calling him John. I mean, it wasn't his name, but it sort of sounded like John and there was a J at the start so they might as well call him something. Better than nothing.
If there's one lesson he wished they'd taught him about the City, it was the backhand, the subtle way of deflecting your problems onto others. John was a magnet for success, and thus an envy of the less fortunate, someone to be treated like a dangerous insect and stepped on, quickly. It only took one meeting, one trader who knew exactly what they were doing and needed to step over John - whoever he was - to get the attention for themselves. John had never been in trouble with the Police. Nobody in Hidensburgh ever had. Seeing his name on the news, realising his parents would soon read in the Tribune about their boy, yet they'd never know the real story - how could they - they'd never know what the City did to people.
That's what led to this moment. As the rain trickled down John's face, he looked across the skyline, the high rise buildings and the grey sky. He thought his love for this place and how it had called to him, how it seemed to want him, and then forget him. He considered the alternatives, no, there was nothing more that could be done. He stood up straight, straightened his tie, and looked mercifully at the rain. And he took that step forward.
John had always wanted to work in the City.