(A humid August day touring Chicago's Michigan Avenue, the Great Lake, and other interesting attractions)

George Fulks, May 27, 2011

As far as Andrew was able to comprehend, the combined sensations of all the people gathered there in Chicago created a magical link. Part of that link was the wonder of life itself, and that August day during 2004 was especially beautiful. Accompanying that college sophomore was a girl named Ann, a music conservatory student who knew the city well. And she was not recorded within a personal diary; but just a very pleasant memory later on for Andrew. Those kinds of memories are perhaps more meaningful than words.

Early on that day a train had delivered Andrew and Ann to downtown Chicago from Tinley Park. Then enroute by bus to Michigan Avenue, the boy was lost but Ann was not. People of every skin tint and nationality were together. Somewhat a silent journey, little difference did language make. Eyes met; some dark and blazing with fire. There were sad and happy faces, and Andrew remembered something Ann had whispered in his ear. "Andrew, is that your cock that I see bulging from your trousers? If you don't shift and move it to where I can't see it, you're going to be by yourself at the next bus stop."

Whispering in response, Andrew remembered saying: "No Ann. I'm wearing a hernia belt that has a small pad with it. What you call my cock is not that small. I'd thank you to use the word penis when you're talking to me like that. Do you think I'm a ten year old"?

But there's one thing that no one knew about that sweltering Summer day when Andrew and Ann toured together a part of Chicago, Illinois. There was a "monkey on Andrew's back." While there were many sensations for them to share- the smell of food from restaurants, the taste of red wine, the touch of each others hands as they walked, the voices of sirens and wind, the closely focused and wide views. That monkey was a definite perception within Danny's mind. That all objects both organic and inorganic comprise a mysterious link very distinctly recognizable. Pigeons, fish in an acquarium, gulls, and things hiding within and beneath sidewalks; alive in trees. There were all the things together; an incredible link somehow recorded and overlayed onto eternal parallels of some kind. What happens makes little difference; nor what is said. That was a strange point on which to ponder while in the company of a girl as lovely as Ann. But that's the way it was for Andrew.

Within a museum was a striped dog-like creature with two pups. Just over a log near where the dogs were standing was a pheasant the mother had caught and killed. A puddle of blood had spilled from the pheasant's broken neck.

Jokingly, Andrew said to Ann: "Ann, that pheasant looks delicious. Let's you and I walk around the glass and ask that thing if we could have a bite or two of that pheasant. I'm starving, Ann"?

Playing along with the gag, Ann replied: "No, Andrew. We can't have a bit of that. The food there is for that thing and her pups. There's a burger place right here in this building. We'll get something to eat there".