Thirty

By the time they reached the end of the line and returned to street level, a large cloud had dimmed the sun. Sarah looked at the sky anxiously. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”

“It can’t. Because we’re here!” Charley practically bounced as he walked. “Let’s go right to the Ferris Wheel.”

Sarah drew in her breath. “Just thinking about it makes my stomach flip.”

“You’ll be one of two thousand people. Each car holds sixty.” He grinned. “Okay, we’ll save the Ferris Wheel for later.”

“Much later. Let’s just walk for a while.”

Being among the majestic white buildings and magnificent statuary again exhilarated Sarah.

“I think we should decide what we want to do,” Charley said.

“Just looking is doing when you’re here.”

“I mean doing doing.”

“Like what?”

Charley mimicked a lordly bow. “I would be honored if your majesty would accompany me on a gondola ride among the royal swans. In yon lagoon.”

“Methinks that would severely diminish the royal coffers.”

“Do not fear. I am the richest prince o’er land and sea.”

“Just so we save enough for tea at the Japanese Gardens.”

Charley took her hand and walked very fast, weaving in and out of the people flowing down the many walkways until they reached the gondolas gliding on the lagoon of the grand Court of Honor. The handsomely dressed gondoliers rhythmically dipped their paddles in the water while their passengers languished like titled royalty.

“Everyone’s so dressed up,” Sarah said, hanging back, but before she knew it Charley had lowered himself into a green gondola with the help of a gondolier wearing bright yellow, his cap sporting a black plume. His name was Alessandro, he informed Sarah with an engaging smile. He offered her his white-gloved hand and seated her next to Charley.

“This isn’t me,” Sarah half whispered, as Alessandro deftly steered the gondola away from a serenely gliding swan.

“Who is it then?” Charley leaned over the side of the gondola to dip his hand in the water. “I don’t like being with strange girls.”

“Let’s not talk. Be silent as the swans. They’re mute, you know.”

“Not talking is hard for me. Especially when I’m excited.”

“Concentrate on just seeing.”

Charley turned from her and focused on a gondola that was gliding past them.

His face was so serious that Sarah had to smile. “You can breathe, you know.”

“Shhh,” he said sternly.

He didn’t say a word for the rest of the ride. Sarah was so distracted by his not talking that it would have been better if he’d jabbered.

“Thank you,” she said to Alessandro as he docked the gondola.

As Charley gave her his hand to help her climb onto the walkway, she thanked him too. “For keeping quiet during the gondola ride. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Charley made up for it though as they walked to the Japanese Gardens on the Wooded Island. He talked about swans and how strange it was that they didn’t sing. “Or squawk, or tweet, or cluck. Nothing.”

“I like it,” Sarah said. “Anyhow, ducks cluck, not birds.”

The intense green of trees and bushes in the garden enfolded them in a world away from crowds and noise. They walked on flat rocks set in white gravel paths that wound among small evergreens. One path led to a wooden building known as the Ho-o-den, or Phoenix Temple, where the shadows of fan-shaped leaves played on the clear water of an oval pond. Water trickled down shelves of copper-gray rock and Sarah knelt on a cushion of moss to watch the darting goldfish. “This island is like the Japanese girl in my art class. Beautiful and very, very quiet.”

Charley sat down beside her. “Why do I have such a hard time being quiet?”

“You can practice here.”

“But I’m jumpy already.”

“The first thing you have to do is close your mouth.”

He closed his mouth and it sprang open. He grinned. “Impossible.”

“Like this,” she said, and pressed his lips together. He licked her fingers. “Hmmmm.”

She drew them away quickly, startled by the shiver of excitement that rippled through her. “Do we have enough in our coffers for tea, oh rich prince?”

Charley bowed. “Charley Woo at your service. Your wish is my egg roll.”

Sarah laughed. “You’re…” She shook her head.

“Lovable.” He smiled.

They crossed a bridge, walked past the Fisheries Building and along a path to the Japanese teahouse. A Japanese woman, slim as a sheathed lily in a green satin kimono, ushered them to a bamboo table in a corner of the teahouse. Vines with delicate yellow flowers wound through the slats of the teahouse wall. Sarah sat down, and felt the blossoms caress her cheek.

“You have yellow flowers in your hair,” Charley said.

She busied herself reading the tea list. “I never knew there were so many different teas.”

“I know what I want. Hibiscus and passion flower.”

Sarah purposely stared at the menu.

“This is not a life and death decision,” Charley said.

“Chamomile plum blossom. Sounds exotic.”

The air was scented with a fragrance Sarah couldn’t identify. The lily lady took their order and returned holding a black tray with white cups thin as eggshells. Her tapered fingers with delicate pink nails made a lovely ornament on the curved teapot as she poured the amber streams into each of their cups.

Sarah sipped her tea, her eyes roving to every corner of the teahouse. Charley was watching her.

“Your eyes are like two cameras, clicking away,” he said. “I’d like to see the photographs they’re taking.”

“You have your own cameras.”

Charley smiled wryly. “I bought mine on Maxwell Street. They’re not high quality like yours.”

“Maybe you just haven’t tried to use them in the best way.”

“Maybe.”

“What color was the water lily floating in the pond?”

“Water lily? What water lily?”

“Charley!”

“OK. It was white.”

“No. It was lavender!”

“I told you. Cheap cameras.”

Then out of the blue, “Are you a lot like your father?”

Sarah shrugged. “No one thinks I take after anyone.” She paused. “It makes me feel…like, well, my parents picked me off the street.”

“Anyone can see that you look like your father. You have the same eyes and dark hair.” He took her hand and turned it over in his palm. “Even though your hand is much smaller than his, it’s still shaped like his.”

Sarah felt he was touching more than her hand. She tried to withdraw it, but he held on.

“I’m not giving it back.”

Being with Charley, Sarah thought, was like…riding a horse before you knew how to slow it down.

He looked around the teahouse thoughtfully. “Can you believe that in October the Fair will close and everything—all the buildings, sculptures, fountains—will be torn down?”

“I don’t want to believe it.”

He freed her hand and sipped the tea slowly. “I think of the Fair as the world’s biggest toy. We’re pretty lucky to have it to play with for a while before the Big People take it away.”

“Hmmmm,” Sarah murmured. She closed her eyes for a second. If only she could stop time! Surrounded by sweet smelling flowers and the soft plash of falling water, Charley sitting across from her, smiling—she didn’t know how his eyes could smile, but it seemed his did—the interlude had already taken on the quality of a dream. And dreams didn’t last.

They left the teahouse only because of the line of people waiting to get in. It was a shock to step back into the vast and noisy fairgrounds. Sarah stopped and looked back wistfully. “I loved it there.”

“Remember?” Charley took her arm. “The Ferris Wheel is next.”

They made their way over to the Midway, and down the broad avenue, past sights such as the German Village and the Streets of Cairo.

Close up, the Wheel looked even more enormous. And terrifying. Sarah stared at the people crammed like insects in a bottle within the glass-walled cars. “Going up in one of those cages would be the worst kind of punishment. I’d die,” she said.

“I get the hint.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t go for a ride.”

“I went the last time I was here.” He laid his hand on his stomach. “Anyhow, spinning around doesn’t go with four cups of tea.”

Charley suggested the Manufactures Building, Sarah the Woman’s Building, as their next destination, but their decision was made for them by a fierce wind that whipped through the fairgrounds, sending menus, brochures, maps, women’s hats, and napkins whirling. A sailing top hat landed in front of Charley. He caught it and handed it to a stout, red-faced man who had been chasing it. “Many thanks,” the man said, bowing slightly. He held the hat against his barrel chest and looked around. “Now I’ve lost my wife!”

Laughing, Sarah and Charley pushed their way against the wind but then the rain came, suddenly, as if a tap had been turned on. In a moment they were drenched.

“I think I’m too wet to do anything else,” Sarah said, feeling her thin blouse and skirt plastered against her skin. She wished she had worn white instead of pink undergarments.

Charley looked at the sky. “It’s only going to get worse.”

They merged into the tumultuous throng of fairgoers, making their own colorful river as they streamed toward the El station.

§

As expected, the El was jammed. Charley threaded his way to a just-vacated seat, and motioned Sarah to sit down. After one stop the woman next to Sarah left and Charley took her place.

“Are you okay?”

Sarah nodded. She felt her wet clothes clinging as closely as a second skin.

After a moment he whispered in her ear. “Have you noticed? I’m not talking.”

She smiled. He was adorable.