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It`s a glorious winter afternoon. Sunny. Crisp. At the northern end of the lagoon in Lincoln Park, the snow`s been shoveled aside to form a square patch of ice where teenagers are playing hockey, racing around their ”rink,” thwack, thwack, thwacking away at a puck.
Just beyond, another area`s been cleared. In this circle, a little girl is getting her first skating lesson from Dad, several twentysomething couples are twirling around, assorted singles who will never be Katarina Witts or Brian Boitanos are, nevertheless, doing their thing.
Skating, not to the typical skaters` waltz, but to a different beat: a recorded voice in the distance, eerily repeating over and over and over again: ”Danger. Danger. Danger. Stay off the ice … ”