Chapter 45

HE STOOD IN the crowd outside the Hippodrome with the girl Gilda, fuming. He’d forgotten they’d held over this Italian movie, rather than premiering Chaplin’s new comedy. Who wanted to see a moving-picture version of Dante’s Inferno, anyway?

Everyone in Chicago, apparently. Just past the ropes at the theater entrance, a machine pumped out clouds of steam. Red gel lights bathed the lobby in crimson. A huge poster depicted naked men and women who gazed imploringly at two figures being ferried across a reach of black water:

THE GLOBAL SENSATION!

CROWNING ACHIEVEMENT OF THE MOVING PICTURE WORLD

POET’S JOURNEY THROUGH HELL SEEN THROUGH HUMAN EYES

Gilda nudged him. “Kids aren’t allowed.”

He peered over the sea of hats at the ticket booth:

ADMISSION 50 CENTS

NO UNACCOMPANIED CHILDREN

Fifty cents! He’d never heard of a theater charging so much for a flicker. “It says ‘no unaccompanied children,’” he said. “That means you can’t go in alone. Still want to see a movie?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“It’s a bit scary, I think.” He pointed at the figure of a devil waving a pitchfork.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not scared.”

“All right, then. If anyone asks, tell them I’m your uncle Arthur.”

The girl giggled as the crowd began to move at last. Inside, he guided her through the packed lobby and up a narrow stairway. “We’ll be able to see better from up here,” he said.

At the top, a uniformed usher took their tickets, raising an eyebrow at Gilda. “Picture’s over an hour long. Might be kinda spooky for a kid.”

“She goes to Sunday Mass,” he replied. “She’s used to sitting still. And devils.”

This, the uppermost level of the Hippodrome, wasn’t as crowded as those below. The last dozen rows of seats were empty. The rest were occupied by younger couples, all purposefully sitting a good distance apart from one another. A group of high-school boys perched at the edge of the balcony, their feet on the brass railings as they smoked and tossed candy wrappers into the audience.

He led the girl to the center of the last row. From here he could see everyone in the balcony, and no one could see him, not unless someone sat in the same aisle. But he knew that older adults tended to avoid the balcony seats, which attracted young couples more interested in each other than in what was on the screen.

To his relief, no one else ventured into the balcony. Fifteen rows in front of him, several couples had already sunk into their seats, the tops of their heads barely showing. The high-school boys sniggered, but no one took notice of him, or the girl.