Authors: Frances Randon
Mo nodded. She wore the Sox
cap and sunglasses. He walked them a block south of Roosevelt so they wouldn’t
directly pass the gas station. The line at the Field Museum of Natural History
flowed down the stairs and down its wide sidewalks. Mo looked around and enjoyed
the view of the lake and what must have been Adler Planetarium. “Can we go
there?”
“Sure. Another day. This’ll
take all afternoon.” Some people gave them resentful looks as they moved up the
stairs to the front of the line. Mo felt guilty and hesitated. Zack grabbed her
hand and pulled her along. “We have tickets waiting. Guest passes from the
mayor’s office. The clerk looked at them wearily. Someone shouted an objection
to the line breakers and was shushed.
“Yeah, Whitman?” the clerk
huffed and handed Zack two clip on guest passes. They said ‘VIP guest’. He
waved them through. They stopped to clip on the passes.
“This is kind of
embarrassing,” observed Mo looking sheepishly at the crowd outside.
“The price of fame. They’ll
get over it.” Zack shoved his sunglasses in his pocket. Mo shrugged and did the
same though she was hoping she wouldn’t be recognized. Posters of her in
costume had been plastered all over the city for weeks. Fortunately not that
many people recognized her without the extreme makeup. Lucky she hadn’t seen
the paper, Zack thought, observing that she was a little ill at ease.
It didn’t take long to forget
everything else once they entered the exhibit. The docent gave a cursory nod at
their passes and directed them to the desk to get earphones and pamphlets. Zack
brushed his lips against Mo’s nose as he adjusted hers. It was the first
romantic gesture since their kiss that morning. She didn’t know what she should
expect. Didn’t know what she wanted. Only that she thrilled at the light touch
of his lips. A memory of the night before glimmered in her mind as Zack took
her hand and they looked up at a huge painting. It depicted a scene from the
palace of Tutankhamen in ancient Egypt. He squeezed her hand and she realized
he was genuinely excited to see the exhibit. She didn’t know why it hadn’t
occurred to her that he actually wanted to see it.
She kept her hand in his as
they wandered along listening to the tour. Sometimes they’d separate as she
moved closer to read a plaque or he tried to get a better look a jeweled knife.
They’d nudge each other to look. They pointed their fingers and nodded.
They meandered and once lost each other. When they found each other Zack
held her hand firmly until he relaxed and she pulled away to wave at him, “Look
at this!” She mouthed at gleaming golden statuary.
Mo studied the costumes that
were so beautiful and elaborate they took her breath away. Cleopatra, she
thought. The story of Cleopatra and Marc Anthony. They had to let her do it for
the tour in two year’s time. It took time to create a theme for the show. It
would be dazzling. A hit all over the world. Millions would throng to see it. A
sold out show wherever it went. Just like this amazing exhibit. She would
produce it. The thrill of that idea was as exciting as the idea of starring in
such a spectacle. They had to let her produce it. She had already done some
drawings inspired by articles in the paper and what she’d looked up online.
Crude as they were. Irv…Sally would go insane with the costumes. It would cost
a fortune! She pulled that piece of pie out of the sky when someone impatiently
tapped her shoulder. She excused herself with embarrassment and realized she’d
lost track of where she was in the taped tour. Zack leaned against a wall
watching her with laughter in his expression. She looked at his tall strong
body, his wide shoulders, and his lightly tanned muscular legs. His lips pulled
into an even bigger smile as she approached him. He brushed his lips on her
brow and took her hand once more and entered the final room of the exhibit.
Mo thrilled at the sight of
it. The sarcophagus was bigger than she imagined. The mummy preserved in
stunning burial garb was breath taking. She gripped Zack’s hand with excitement.
Thousands of years had passed since the life of the boy king. They circled the
sarcophagus. Oh, how she would have loved to reach out and touch it. The velvet
ropes kept the crowd from doing exactly that. That and the eagle eyed docents.
Mo stared at the mummy as if unable to take in enough. From behind Zack put his
arms around her and they both gazed in astonishment at the boy who had come
back to be adored by the whole world after centuries hidden beneath a pyramid.
Mo tucked her new coffee cup
into her backpack. “Don’t weigh that thing down,” Zack had warned. She shoved
her giant bag with two huge exhibit books into his arms. Then she looked at her
new Egyptian earrings. They were golden cats with emerald eyes. The goddess
Bastet. She wasn’t a big jewelry wearer but these had been irresistible. And
expensive.
Zack enjoyed watching her
enjoy herself but something had kind of pinched inside when she bought six
hundred dollar earrings. He tried to shove down the sensation, the knowledge,
that he couldn’t buy her six hundred dollar earrings. He felt like a sexist.
Knew it was sexist, but it felt as if a line had been drawn between them.
Different worlds, he thought. He tried to let the feeling go. “Come on.”
They walked along the
sidewalk of Grant Park. It was crowded but not so much that it was
uncomfortable. Monday was a lighter day after the weekend crowds and they
agreed they were lucky to have time off during the week. They took a turn
toward the lake strolling along the concrete shoreline. Ten miles of shoreline,
mostly sand, he explained to her. No buildings but one east of Lakeshore drive.
And that one very exclusive, naturally. Bikers and runners ran along the
seawall. Zack pointed out a lone swimmer in a wetsuit about thirty yards out battling
the waves. “That guy out there swims for miles every day. It has to get pretty
rough or cold to keep him out. I don’t know why, I’ve never had a chance to
ask. I’ve never caught him out of the water.” The wind seemed to pick up and at
the next opportunity he led her through an underpass coming up on the other
side of Lakeshore drive.
They meandered while Zack
talked about the city. They wound up on Michigan Avenue and he explained they
were not far from where she’d had her shopping trip that netted the White Sox
cap. Crowds flowed out of the Museum of the Art Institute while Mo swore she
would visit the Impressionist exhibit before she left town. To her surprise
Zack said he’d already seen it. “You’re a man with many hidden facets,
Detective Burnham. This city is so beautiful. I think I need to come here more.
The Tutankhamen exhibit was so inspiring. I mean interesting but it inspired so
many ideas for a show I’ve been thinking about since I first read about the
exhibit in the paper. Look at these Lions.” She gazed in admiration up at the
life size statues. “I wish I’d brought my camera. Do you come here often?” This
she said in a flirtatious tone with a raised brow and a purse of her full lips.
“Not often enough.” He ran a
finger down her cheek. He backed her against the plinth beneath one of the
verdigris lions. He held the package with her books in one arm and cupped her
chin, tilting it up to lightly caress her lips with his. Mo put her arms around
his neck and pulled his lips harder to hers. She was ready to commit to a full
lip lock after the few brief teasing kisses throughout the day. If they were
going to be lovers…
Zack didn’t waste time trying
to interpret signals. He held her close and did justice to the mouth he’d
wanted to really kiss all afternoon. Some people were squeamish about public
displays of affection and he had always been one of those people. He would have
bet money she was also but there she was, pulling him hard to her body,
pressing provocatively against him. Were they breaking through their
inhibitions? Or just making the most of the short time they had? He wanted to
catch a cab home and he sensed she’d be willing.
Mo wrapped her arms around
Zack’s waist and pressed her face against his throat. She felt him swallow and
thought about her strange dream. She fantasized the two of them flying through
the air and felt a strange pressure in her sternum. She remembered the umbrella
and how she plunged it into her chest; piercing her center, freeing herself
from fear. She felt physically safe with him but an undercurrent of another
kind of fear lent a bitter taste to the back of her tongue. She didn’t
understand it and wanted to block it out. Only so much time. With him. He was
kissing his light kisses into her hair and suddenly she could have sworn she
heard music. Was that music? “What is that?”
“That is street dance,
Senorita! Come on.” He pulled her until they had gotten north and east of the
museum. On the grassy area south of the “Bean” was a band set up playing Latin
music. A voluptuous woman in Brazilian carnival garb led about a two hundred
people as they danced to the upbeat tempo. Many danced by themselves. Dozens
had partners. Quite a few were lost in exaltation as they stepped and twirled
to a Salsa beat. Some lined up and followed the leader in a sultry line dance.
Many people were gathered around the dancers clapping and tapping and wriggling
their bodies to the music. The wind blew hair and hats and no one seemed to
notice or care. Zack led Mo over to where a cop had lost all sense of authority
and was jiggling in his blues. “Hey, Leon.”
Leon was riveted to
attention. “Dude. What you doing…oh, yeah sorry.” Zack and Ray were a hot topic
of speculation in the ranks.
“This is Mo, Mo this is
Leon.” Leon relaxed and held out his hand. “Lee, if you’re hanging around a few
minutes let me leave these books here.” Zack leaned the books against a bike
rack. With a brief objection from Mo he dropped her backpack with them. “It’ll
be safe with Leon.
“Unless I see a
pickpocket…damn you’re gonna dance! If I wasn’t on the job.” He watched them
with envy as they joined the party.
Mo smiled nervously as Zack
led her into the crowd. “Wait, Zack, I’m not too…” She had never danced to
Latin music. He whirled her and settled into a simple step. He turned her and
held her by the waist nuzzling her ear from behind. He spun her with a laugh as
she tried to keep up. He pulled her close and their bodies moved together as
she tried to let go of the sudden shyness she felt. He swept her in a circle.
Mo ran her hands down his sides her eyes on his. She was caught up now,
following his lead. He amazed her with another hidden facet and she spun with
the joy of it in his arms. She felt as if they were soaring. He laughed at the
light in her eyes and brought her in for a teasing kiss before swinging her
around. His hands grabbed her hips his body undulating at close quarters while
his eyes seared into hers. The little gold flecks in his green eyes seemed to
brighten. “What if I picked you up and…?” When he lifted and spun her she
shrieked with surprise and laughed a whole and free laugh. He reveled in the
sound of it. He set her down and caught her close as the rhythm changed to
something slow and sultry.
“A Brazilian carnival act.
Wouldn’t that be fun?” Mo slid her finger along his collar gazing into his
face.
“Still got work on the brain,
Ms. Whitman?” He dipped her deeply. She laughed a little breathlessly.
“Not work, inspiration. Admit
it, works rarely far from your thoughts.” She shimmied around him.
He’d never seen anything
sexier than the wisps of hair that came loose from her braid. And wearing a
White Sox ball cap. She was an angel! “Guess what I’m thinking about right now.
Hint. It’s not work.” He pulled her close and swayed. He had forgotten everything.
Ray, Al, the robbery suspect. He could just see her. It felt…right. If only. He
sucked up the brief spasm of doubt and pulled her in and kissed her like his
life depended on it. As if she was the source of the air he breathed.
Mo felt a surge of panic at
the intensity of his kiss. She didn’t give a damn about the crowd. It was that
jab of fear again. The sensation of being on that whipping wire. Not in
control. She was working without a net so she clung more tightly and told
herself not to think beyond the moment. His lips left hers. He seemed to be
trying to imprint her scent into his memory. His face was in her hair. A place
he seemed to not get enough of. She put her slender fingers on either side of
his face and stroked lightly at his temples. She looked into his eyes and
thought of him as a kind of warrior and poet mentally chuckling at herself. Yet
he had surprised her in so many ways. His gentleness. His ferocity in bed as he
took her past anything she’d ever known. The variety of his interests. He could
see the Impressionists show again he had said. Who knew? They had a few days.
She didn’t want to think about the future. At that moment she wanted to be
frozen in time with him. She had almost stopped hearing the music due to the
pounding of her heart in her ears.
He thought he’d lost her
attention. He pulled her close. Her large eyes gazed thoughtfully at him. Then
she did an exaggerated little hip swivel when the beat picked up and yelped
when his hips swiveled tight to hers. They danced and laughed and kissed.
“Hey?” His hand stroked her
chin. “Hungry?’
She nodded. Taking her hand
he led her back to Leon. He was immersed in conversation with a cop on a horse.
“Burnham.” The cop gave him a nod and eyed Mo without concealing the type of
interest his look contained.
Zack picked up the books and
handed Mo her backpack. “Castle.” He gave the other cop a curt nod.
“Thanks Leon, see you at the gym. He bussed Mo toward the street.