City by the Lake

"Yeah... yeah," I began, shaken by his stare. "I've read it before." I shrugged noncommittally. "Great book about a great town."

He smiled then, flashing white teeth, his cheeks creasing. "Damn right."

His smile conjured up thoughts of reverberating bass rhythms and pool balls striking together, of French kissing and empty glasses slamming down hard on a table.

"You work around here?" he asked.

"I'm an office assistant, a few blocks north of Lawrence," I explained. "Trying to pay off grad school. You?"

"Oh... I do a few things here and there. I've been working a crane for a shipping firm down by the Lake on the south side. Was up north today, though." In the ensuing silence his features drank me in. He remained very still, leaning against the steel pole even though many other passengers disembarked, leaving plenty of seats available.

"This is Fullerton," said the loudspeaker. n

He finally sprang into motion, rolling his shoulders back and straightening. "This is my stop," he confessed.

"Mine too," I said, smiling in spite of myself.

We exited the train, and I took a deep breath of cool city air before following him down the stairs, off the dark train platform. Stepping gingerly through grimy puddles with my high heels, I sized him up again. I kept a sweaty palm on the metal handrail, but he moved quickly and surely, swinging his arms, forgoing the railing entirely. Despite the breeze, my neck and face were hot, and I wished I'd put my hair up. I hesitated, as I always do; the words caught in my throat.

Finally I spoke. "Hey..."

He paused and turned smoothly at the bottom of the stairs, his silhouette framed in the light of a streetlamp beyond. I blinked, hardly believing myself, hardly believing the way he captivated me. For a moment, the drip, drip, drip of water was the only sound on the cement stairs.

"Could I have your number?" I finally asked him, somewhat sheepishly.

He looked at me with regret, and I felt as though he could see right through me into my heart. "I can't give you my number."

"Oh." I was crestfallen and puzzled, but I kept my disappointment to myself. "Well..." I tried, "can you tell me your name?"

Again he looked at me longingly, his dark eyebrows raised in sincerity.

"Chicago," he whispered, as he began to fade away.