Tempted by the Sinner

It wasn’t even that good of a movie.

Okay, well, the first one was good. But the rest of them were stupid.

I walked down a shady, tree-lines sidewalk that nestled up against the Parkway. Cars whizzed past, driving way too fast for how many pedestrians there were wandering around like morons. I slowed and stopped, arms crossed over my chest, and wondered if he was just messing with me.

When I heard my name.

I turned and saw him, standing in the Rocky line.

I walked over, mouth hanging open. He wore a dark suit, similar to the one from earlier, but different. It was tighter somehow, and he wasn’t wearing a tie anymore. He stood behind a pair of older boomers with big, floppy hats and cargo shorts, and in front of a family of young kids and two harried-looking parents with zoned-out expressions.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Getting a picture with Rocky.”

I shook my head and laughed, not sure what else to do.

“But, I mean, you live here,” I said.

“So what?” He grinned at me, head cocked. “I never got a picture with him before.”

“You remember when it used to be up there?” I asked, gesturing toward the top of the steps.

“Of course. I made my father call Mayor Street when the statue got moved.”

“Was he even in office?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Who knows,” he said. “Probably not.”

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re insane.”

“I’m a Rocky fan, that’s all.”

I sighed and stood close to him as the line slowly moved. People stood with Rocky, took a few pictures, mostly with their arms shoved in the air in triumph.

“You ever do this before?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “I don’t even like Rocky all that much.”

He gave me a sideways glance. “No kidding?”

“The first one was okay,” I said quickly. “And the most recent one. With, uh, what’s his name?”

“Michael B. Jordan,” Vince said. “Yeah, I liked that one too. Even the sequel.”

“I just, I don’t know. It just seems so silly. This stupid statue gets more traffic than the Liberty Bell.”

He snorted. “No, it doesn’t,” he said. “There’s no way. Come on, it’s just a fun thing the city does. I didn’t realize you were such a jaded journalist already.”

“And I didn’t know you were so soft.”

He laughed as we moved forward again. The boomer couple took their turn, alternating poses and taking pictures.

“I’m not soft,” he said, his voice low. “But I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“No, you don’t,” I said.

It was our turn. He gestured for me to step up and pulled his phone from his pocket. I hesitated then walked to the statue. I stood next to it, feeling awkward, and I could feel everyone staring at me.

“Come on,” he said, “you just made it to the top of the steps. You’ve been training so hard, it’s the end of the montage, you gotta be excited. Fists up in the air, girl.”

I caught a few people smiling at him and I couldn’t help myself. I thrust my hands in the air and he laughed, took a few pictures, then nodded.

“All right, got it,” he said.

“Your turn.” I gestured at the statue.

“Hell, no,” he said and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

I gaped at him. “Wait, what?”

“No way in hell am I getting a picture with that fucking thing.” He laughed and put an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, journalist. Let’s go have a chat.”

I shook my head and laughed, unable to help myself. He steered me from the crowd and I slipped out from under his arm. He winked at me and led me back down past the crowds, along that shady path, and toward the back of the museum. We walked up a hill and toward the Schuylkill River, toward the Fairmount Water Works.

We walked along a wide-open concrete square with a fountain in the center. The Water Works were built into the side of the retaining wall that housed the Schuylkill River. They were old buildings, probably from the 1890s, with marble and white walls, lots of columns, and green roofs. They sat right against the river and used to help bring water into the city, although it hadn’t been active as an actual waterworks for some time.

He angled away from the buildings and led me to the edge of a black spiral staircase. I slowed and stopped as he stood at the end and looked back at me. I’d never seen that staircase before, and for all I knew it led right down into the water.

He grinned at me. “Come on,” he said. “This is my favorite part of the city.”

“What’s down there?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

I watched as he descended the staircase. It rocked under his weight and I could’ve sworn it was about to pull out from the wall and tip into the river below.