Cover

Dedication

For Helen, one last time

I

In Prague, we stay at the Hotel Certovka in the shadow of the historic Charles Bridge. Second floor. Some of the rooms overlook the Vltava River.

Ours doesn’t.

However, we can see the tourists on the bridge, can hear them talking, as they stroll from the Lesser Quarter to Old Town and back again, and if we were so inclined, we could lean out our window and engage them in conversation.

We don’t.

But we could.

We arrive at our hotel after a twelve-hour flight from Toronto. The room is hot. There is no air conditioner, no ceiling fan to push the heat around. We’re exhausted. We fall onto the bed, thinking we’ll sleep until dinner, when a band somewhere below us begins playing a fortissimo, quick-step arrangement of “Hello, Dolly!”

I’m sweaty and sticky. My ears are still popping from the descent into Vaclav Havel. My sinuses ache. My stomach is upset. My mouth is a sewer. I roll over and bury my face in a pillow. Mimi snuggles down beside me with no regard for my distress.

“My god,” she whispers, “can it get any better?”

ABOUT SIX YEARS AGO, Mimi decided that we should travel.

“We can follow the postcards,” she told me. “Maybe we’ll find out what happened to Uncle Leroy. We might even find the Crow bundle. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Why don’t we look for the Lost Lemon Mine while we’re at it?”

“And the travel will give me a chance to paint other places in the world.”

“You paint water. You don’t need to travel to paint water.”

“You could take your typewriter and your camera. Just like the old days, Bird. You were one of the best.”

“I haven’t used a typewriter in years.”

“Maybe it will inspire you to finish your book.”

“And there is no book.”

“But there could be.”

It’s a losing battle, but I try anyway. “Why would we want to travel, when we can stay home?”

“Travel is broadening,” said Mimi, though that old adage has never been proven. “And it will help take your mind off your health.”

SO WE’RE IN PRAGUE.

It’s too hot to stay in the room. We go outside and follow the music to a small park that is awash in food vendors and craft stands.

And musicians.

The “Hello, Dolly!” band is not alone. They have come to Prague with friends, an assortment of musical troupes from around the world—Germany and Spain, Austria and Slovakia, France and Portugal—all armed with a frightening array of North American show tunes.