The Captive
“ After several nights of travel, taking time out for the barnyard frolics I have been indulging in, I arrive at the Windy City, a glittering heap of lights thrown down beside a lake. From the life of my Second Person, Charles, I recall Clair Lanphier filling his boyish imagination with Chicago.
"The Loop, Charles," she says, her eyes glittering in the darkness of that wild drive through the snowstorm. "The Palmer House, and Old Town, museums and restaurants, and The Lake." The muted roar ...of the winter wind around the madly careening car comes back to me now as I lie full length on the stones and gaze across the dark level water. Charles was such a fine boy, such a misguided Midwestern hero. I roll over and wonder with an almost nostalgic pang where Mrs. Lanphier is tonight. Once I even had a drunken dream of carrying her off to live in a cave somewhere, so seductive were her tales of life and promises of love - Charles and I were not so different in that.MoreLess
"The Loop, Charles," she says, her eyes glittering in the darkness of that wild drive through the snowstorm. "The Palmer House, and Old Town, museums and restaurants, and The Lake." The muted roar ...of the winter wind around the madly careening car comes back to me now as I lie full length on the stones and gaze across the dark level water. Charles was such a fine boy, such a misguided Midwestern hero. I roll over and wonder with an almost nostalgic pang where Mrs. Lanphier is tonight. Once I even had a drunken dream of carrying her off to live in a cave somewhere, so seductive were her tales of life and promises of love - Charles and I were not so different in that.MoreLess
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