Chapter 12: Discovery vs. Treasure Hunting

Saturday, July 9, 1983

Things were notably warmer today, though still pleasantly cool compared to Houston. One advantage of living up here would be the nice weather in (most of) spring, summer, and fall.

The disadvantage would be the brutal cold and lake-effect winds of winter. Been there, done that. I liked parts of it, but the girls would just plain hate it, and I really wasn’t a fan of some of it, either.

I put on my gold shirt and red pants, along with white sneakers, and headed off to breakfast. I got a considerable number of looks in the halls, some approving and some ... not so much.

The girls were there when I got there. Jas had on her red dress with gold embroidery. That made sense, though I still had a sneaking suspicion the ao dai might turn up later.

She preened over me a bit, and we got plenty more looks.

Everyone wanted to know how things went with Laura. I told them it’d gone well. She’d known a guy who looked very much like me, especially if you adjust for a few years of growth, and he’d been a major jerk. I pretty much lumped him into the ‘Max’ category. That got everyone’s heads nodding. We hadn’t been close with Jas or Paige during the Max months, but they knew the story perfectly well.

She knew I wasn’t him, but had freaked out anyway. She was still having some issues, but was doing much better, and wanted to try to be friends. I pointed towards post-traumatic stress disorder as best as I could when the term wasn’t in vogue (or maybe in use at all) and no one but Angie would’ve known about it, saying it was something my therapist had said.

I had trouble believing this explanation would hold. Cammie had seen Laura react to me as if she knew me at Hockaday, and she knew that there was no reasonable way I’d seen Laura before. Some variation of ‘Laura is a bit psycho when it comes to Steve, and it’s not Steve’s fault’ seemed to be the necessary conclusion. I mean ... yes, I was out of Cammie’s sight at Hockaday, but what could I possibly have done to Laura in a few minutes that wouldn’t have raised a fuss or had her trying to get me arrested?

Even so, the odds of Cammie asking inconvenient questions were definitely going up. What could I do, though, but hope for the best? I had my ‘I dreamed the future’ story shaping up, but was Laura dreaming the future, too, a more plausible story?

Often it’s the cover-up more than it’s the crime. I hoped this wasn’t one of those cases.

We boarded the buses to head to the Art Institute at nine. It was obvious that this had the lowest turnout of any of our outings thus far. I couldn’t tell if there was any pattern to who was going (and who wasn’t). My hypothesis was that Debaters bailed out more than others, but Angie, Jas, and Paige said they weren’t seeing a lot of Drama kids that’d gone on the other trips, either.

The group was also much more female than on the other trips. If nothing else, that told me that the boys who weren’t going were missing an opportunity. Of course, first-life me had gone on this trip and never talked to a girl. Knowing me, I probably hadn’t talked to any boys, either. Well ... yeah. Gene went, I was pretty sure, so we’d have talked.

One of the things I’d learned about Chicago was that it felt like it took forever to get anywhere. The city mostly predated freeways. They’d added some, of course, but they did a much poorer job than Houston’s in getting you from point A to point B.

Admittedly, I lived very close to a freeway, and the places I went tended to be right along them. Also, some of my comparisons were unfair. The new Chinatown, for instance, was a long drive on Bellaire Boulevard away from a freeway right now. In a decade or so, it’d be served by a new toll road that was extremely convenient.

In any case, the bus ride from Evanston to the Art Institute didn’t go via a freeway. That was a good thing, because it instead went via Lake Shore Drive, which (when not clogged with traffic) was quite scenic. Dad always made a point of driving on Lake Shore Drive when we visited, if we were going anywhere near it. We’d taken it to go to the Field Museum on the last trip, for instance.

It also (as Paige gleefully noted) had a rock song named in its honor, and there had been never-ending debate over whether the LSD mentioned in the song was only intended to refer to the road (it was a popular abbreviation for the road, too, after all). I liked the song, simply for itself, without the drug reference, and it certainly described the road, and the Chicago experience in general, fairly accurately.

It prompted a discussion of which drugs any of us had taken and which we might take. Paige admitted to trying marijuana. She said it made her paranoid. Jas and Cammie admitted to nothing (and were probably telling the truth). I had to claim innocence as well because, while first-life me had eaten a few marijuana brownies, who would I have gotten them from this time?

Angie pretty much ended it on a bit of a downer by saying she’d tried marijuana as well, simply from being in smoke-filled rooms, and adding that she might have tried other things unknowingly, given how people had handled things. We all knew she’d had that life (this go-round, I mean), but it was easy to forget it.

Angie apologized for raining on everyone’s parade and asked what people wanted to try, if anything. That was a mixed bag. No one admitted to anything much, though Jas and Cammie both said they’d probably try pot at least once, given the opportunity. I was the standout here, saying I was both curious about and scared of LSD. Since it was the one I was most curious about, but also pretty scared of, odds were I wouldn’t try anything else (though, in fact, I’d probably try pot, too, given the opportunity).

We agreed that we were a bunch of un-hip nerds and called it a day. That seemed fair enough.

Northwestern pretty much just dropped us off, made sure we got stickers showing we were entitled to be there, told us not to leave the Art Institute grounds, and then ignored us. I was sure there’d be some grad students watching the doors, but we were allowed to go outside, so ... yeah.

Angie wanted a picture of the five of us with one of the Art Institute’s famous lion statues, so she found someone to take our picture. We headed in after that and immediately had a decision to make. Cammie wanted to go check out the Renaissance section. Paige leaned towards that as well. Angie and I preferred the Impressionists, and Jas turned out to be a fan as well, partly on the grounds that so many of the great Impressionists were French.

Since Angie and I had nearly camped out in the Impressionist galleries on our last trip, we decided we’d head for the Renaissance galleries first. My impression was the same as the first time: too many somewhat overdone religious works compared to things I found more interesting. However, the Old Masters are the Old Masters, and worth the time.

Also, they had quite a bit of non-painting art. Jewelry, ceramics, even armor and weapons. We all found those interesting.

I was able to briefly tell first Angie, then Jasmine, that things really were looking much better with Laura, but without a lot of detail. Both of them agreed we could wait a few days for the right situation before we tried to talk more deeply about things.

They’d again given us lunch vouchers. Most people were grabbing sandwiches in the deli, I think, but we opted for outdoor dining in their garden court. It was pricier, but we could afford it, and it was nice to just sit and talk for a bit.

By this point, I’d pretty much determined that Cammie and Paige really didn’t know what the Art Institute had (and didn’t have). Jasmine knew that ‘A Sunday on La Grande Jatte’ was here, but then she had the advantage of having been to La Grande Jatte. That alone was more than enough reason to head for the Impressionist galleries after lunch.

I wasn’t at all sure if anyone but Ang and me knew about ‘Nighthawks’ and ‘American Gothic’. I was hoping they didn’t. If you recognized them at all (and I was pretty sure everyone would), randomly coming across them when you don’t know they’re here is pretty amazing.

That meant we had to get to the American section, whether or not it involved rushing something. I was pretty sure we could manage.

We took a less leisurely stroll through the Impressionists than I would’ve preferred, but I already knew I’d be back here. Whether or not we ever lived in the area, both Ang and Jas would want to come back. Unless something went wrong, I wanted to see other museums with Jas. For instance, the Louvre, which I’d never seen in my first life.

If something did go wrong, the odds were extremely high that Angie would want to see them with me. Something going wrong there was ... well. Not something I wanted to consider as a real possibility.

I do mean ‘less leisurely,’ not ‘rushed.’ We took well over an hour. When we’d come up from Purdue on one of our trips, one of my friends had ‘seen’ the Impressionist collection in about ten minutes. That ... is crazy, at least in my opinion.

When we moved up, I directed us to the American section. Mentioning Mary Cassatt was enough to tip the balance. Jas couldn’t resist the lure of more impressionism.

I didn’t guide us beyond getting to the section, and I’d forgotten exactly where they hung, so it surprised (and pleased) me when Cammie went around a corner and then said, “Oh, my!”

Everyone rushed to see what it was. It turned out she’d found ‘American Gothic’. Paige found ‘Nighthawks’ about thirty seconds later. Not a surprise; they’re not next to each other, but there are places you can stand and see both.

Those drew a lot of conversation, as did some of the others. Paige decided her knowledge of American artists was woefully inadequate, and Cammie felt that way about herself, too.

Angie said, “We’ve got one of those big coffee-table art books from here. We’ll loan it to y’all.”

Paige said, “Why didn’t you think of that before we came here?”

“Well, I didn’t bring it with me,” she said, giggling.

Paige started to reply, and Angie said, “Yes, I know you meant in Houston.”

“Yeah! We could’ve known what we were getting into,” Cammie said.

Jas nodded. “That makes sense. I’d have liked to look.”

Angie shook her head. “Nah. I mean it! Nah! Steve and I bought it because we had a great time here, and half of that was just ... discovery. Isn’t that right?”

I nodded. “For me, definitely. It’s more fun just seeing things. Then you’re reminding yourself of cool things later, instead of playing treasure hunt here, trying to find cool things you already know about.”

“Okay,” Jas said. “I like that. This has been a lot of fun.”

Cammie nodded. “I hadn’t thought of the treasure hunt thing. If I came back, or maybe when I come back, I’ll know things are here, but I think there’ll still be a lot of discovery.”

“There has been for me,” I said.

“Me, too!” Angie said.

We rendezvoused on Michigan Avenue at five. The buses were already there. I’d only seen Laura twice, both times at a distance. I saw her waiting at the curb and stepped over, the other girls watching but not coming over.

“Have fun?” I said.

She smiled, softly. “Yes. It ... um ... wouldn’t have been as much fun if we hadn’t cleared the air.”

“Were you okay with the crutch? It’s a lot of standing.”

She smiled again. “Thanks for asking. Yeah. I sat here and there. There are so many great things to just sit and enjoy.”

“There are.”

She started to say something, then looked around, reminding herself we were in a crowd. She shook her head a little.

“We’ll talk later.”

“I’m good with that.”

I went back over.

“That looked ... encouraging,” Cammie said. “I was worried. Michigan Avenue is much scarier than Sheridan.”

I chuckled.

Paige said, “Yeah! She seemed okay.”

“She was,” I said. “We’re doing better.”

“Good,” Jas said. “I’m glad.”

“Me, too,” Cammie said. “I don’t want to debate her and have her trying to take your head off, or mine either!”

“Yeah,” I said.

The ride back was fun. We were all glad Northwestern had such a variety of outings, and everyone was looking forward to Second City. I was pretty sure that none of the current cast would go on to become major stars, but one or two might be recognizable. I wasn’t completely sure, and I hadn’t tried to look up the cast. As with other things, I welcomed the surprise of not trying to know too much in advance.

We got back in time for a late dinner in the cafeteria. After dinner, Jas was considering walking to the apartment, but Angie and Paige decided they wanted a turn, and we decided to be considerate. We hung out and made out for a bit, then separated around nine-thirty.

I considered calling Jane, but it seemed too late. Tomorrow would be fine. Instead, I headed back to the dorm. I tried to hang out in the common room, but I was still getting too many people who wanted to know if I knew Reagan, or if I could get him to say something useful to the case they wanted to run, or any number of other unlikely requests.