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He went through his closet, tearing through his suits, finally deciding on what he hoped would be right — twill pants in a deep khaki, a crisp blue shirt, one of his favorite Hermes neckties, a dark brown light weight summer sports coat and dark brown loafers, minus the tassels. He checked himself in the mirror, smiled a couple of times. Better can the smile he thought, go with a more sincere approach. He was looking at his watch every thirty seconds and finally thought that it was close enough so he headed out to the restaurant. The Bel Aire was an old-style downtown steak house set a few feet below street level in the basement of an old brick building. The aroma of sizzling beef fat and beer hung in the air. The maitre d’ sat him in a corner where he could watch the door. No sign of Jennifer. He was a little early but he still worried. What if she bailed on him? The waitress came by and dropped off the drinks menu, gave him a couple of minutes to decide, came back and he ordered a. Blackhawk pushed aside his pain and began to meditate as he walked. Soon, he was oblivious to everything around him, even the effort of putting one foot in front of the other. Blackhawk looked for signs in his mind. Sometimes, he could see bits and pieces of what was to be, brief glimpses of the future. However, on this early evening he saw nothing. That was not necessarily a bad thing, only disappointing. When he shook himself from his semi-trance, he realized that he had walked a small distance past his house. Smiling to himself, he turned around and started to walk back. A brilliant sun woke Dan that Monday morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so fresh and alive. The cries and squeals of school children could be heard in the distance and he smiled at the thought. Dan got up and looked out his window in the direction of the noise. His watch read 7:48 and he figured the time would be short before their day would start. He showered and dressed quickly, eager to be out.
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