The Night Watchman

Donna continued ignoring him until he pushed his way next to her.

"So who made you come to this?" the man in a suit whispered.

"Made me?" she whispered back.

"Yeah. I'm part of the mayor's security detail, so I have to be here. Who's making you show up?"

Donna's snide glance not only didn't deter him, he pulled open his suit jacket to show off his badge and a gun.

"Detective 2nd grade with just 12 years on the force," he said with a sly smile.

"My sister was right," Donna replied very quietly.

"Yeah? What about?" the detective asked.

"She didn't think I'd ever date a police officer. I told her she was wrong. But where you're concerned, she's absolutely right."

The detective gave her a smug look then said just a little bit louder, "Lesbo, huh?"

Under any other set of circumstances, Donna would have been disgusted. But David's voice brought her back to reality as he said, "So it is my distinct honor to present to you..."

He paused for dramatic effect before saying, "Rembrandt's...The Night Watch!"

The heavy veil slowly rose up revealing the breathtaking work of one of the art world's great masters. Donna had no idea she'd gasped along with many other people as the painting slowly came into view an inch at a time.

"Please! Feel free to file toward the front and take a closer look. But do be nice and avoid shoving, okay?" David said with a laugh as the large group of admirers began slowly moving his way, every eye on the mostly dark painting.

It took Donna nearly an hour to get her first few minutes of alone time with 'The Men of the Watch'. She'd have waited all night if necessary, and the hour flew by as she continued inching her way forward as security politely encouraged the front row to let others have a look.

It was even more spectacular in person than she could have ever imagined. Even the highest-quality digital photographs didn't do justice to the original.

Donna had known for years that Rembrandt was known for his masterful use of shade and light, something fully brought to life in this beautiful work of art. He was uncompromisingly devoted to realism, something that led many critics to claim that he preferred ugliness to beauty. But in her eyes, Donna saw nothing but beauty and couldn't for the life of her understand how anyone could be so shortsighted.

Five minutes later, after what felt like only a few seconds, a security guard on her left quietly said, "Ma'am? Can you please give others an opportunity to..."

The sound of his voice startled her and caused her to realize she had no idea how long she'd been standing there. It was the same five minutes every other front-row group had had, but she felt cheated in spite of knowing she would have many hours of personal time with The Men of the Watch.

She looked over at him and saw an imploring look on his face indicating he wasn't going to do anything more than ask. When she looked his way he smiled at her then said, "I know your time seemed short, and were it up to me, I'd let you stand and look as long as you like."

Donna wanted to take a last look at the masterpiece, but there was something about his gentle smile that caught her attention. She knew she needed to move, but her feet wouldn't cooperate.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?" the voice asked.

As the person to her right began gently pressing against her Donna realized she really did need to move.

"Yes. Sorry," she told him as she took a tentative first step. "It's just so amazing!"

"I don't blame you," the security guard told her. "I'd stand there with you all night if I could."

Her brain was on overload from the swirl of thoughts about what to do in terms of the restoration, and now she found herself even more confused by the words of someone employed as a security guard.

"I...I understand," she replied as she continued walking, not sure if he meant he'd stand there in order to view the painting or just to be next to her.

The last thing she noticed was the man's embroidered name on his shirt. His first name. A name that was, by all accounts, completely unremarkable. Chad.

As she walked away, Donna realized she'd seen more than his name. She'd just been too preoccupied to focus. This...Chad...person's face was the opposite of his unremarkable name. She turned to look one last time and confirmed what she'd assumed she'd seen, and yes, she'd been correct.

'Chad' had a thick head of sandy-blond hair that was combed in a very traditional way for someone in his current job, but she could easily envision it when it was more relaxed. Either way, it was very...

The word 'sexy' came to mind, but that seemed wholly inappropriate to describe anything about a man she didn't know. Even one as attractive as this security guard with the kind of facial features seen more often on male models than men earning $15 an hour as security guards. But it was the eyes that had made her stare in spite of her best intentions not to. Like hers, they were bright blue. Also like hers, they were encased by long eyelashes that looked like they might belong on a woman. And yet they were every bit as...sexy...on him as his hair.

This flurry of thought was stopped in its tracks when David's hand gently took her forearm as he smiled and asked, "So what did you think?"

"David. Hi. Oh, my gosh! I have never seen anything more amazing in my life!"

She'd seen the Mona Lisa and several other more famous works on a trip to a handful of museums in Europe during her time in grad school, but this was the first time she'd been felt so personally attached to any work of art.

"I couldn't help but notice the look of awe on your face," David told her. "Your...very beautiful face."

The compliment caught her off guard, but Donna recovered almost instantly as she smiled back and thanked him.

"Donna? Listen. I was wondering if perhaps you might like to accompany me to the Chicago Symphony this weekend. They're performing Higden and Tchaikovsky, and I know you love them both as much as I do."

The unexpected invitation was even more surprising than his compliment, and Donna was again reeling from sensory overload.

"That...that sounds wonderful, David, but..."

"Ah, yes. The infamous 'but'," he said with a smile of understanding resignation. "But...you can't blame me for trying, can you?"

"No. It's...I'm...I'm flattered, David. I really am. And under normal circumstances I'd love to. It's just that with the Rembrandt finally being here, and everything else going on..."

"I understand," the older man told her, knowing she was out of his league. It wasn't that he had a negative self-image, he just knew that this very attractive, 40-year old woman was unavailable to him regardless of his credentials or their common interests.

"Perhaps another time," he said just as graciously.

"Yes. Definitely," Donna told him just as the mayor approached wanting a moment of David's time.

As she made her way out, she passed the detective—2nd grade—who rolled his eyes and gave her a snide look.

During the short cab ride home, Donna had nearly forgotten about the breathtakingly handsome security guard, and was once again totally focused on the future task of restoring such an important work of art.

The two-month period in which the painting was on display had begun, and she was also making mental notes for how and when she would get the 'alone time' she so desperately craved with The Men of the Watch.

The men depicted in the painting were part of the Militia Company of District II under the command of Captain Frans Banninck Cocq, also known as The Shooting Company of Frans Banning Cocq and Willem van Ruytenburch. But its more well-known name was simply The Night Watch.

It was also famous not only for its use of light and shadow but for its colossal size and the perception of motion in what would have traditionally been a static military group portrait. The painting had become even more darkened by dirt and layers of varnish. It had been restored once before but was badly in need of additional work, work that would be the sole responsibility of Donna Hartley.

To her chagrin, Donna's rendezvous with them would have to wait as she was committed to an evening with her sister the following day. She thought about the handsome security guard and laughed knowing she would have at least one thing to talk about that Deanne would find interesting.

"A security guard, huh?" her little sister said with a huge smile after Donna informed her that she'd seen someone...interesting.

"Yes. He's very good looking but much too young. I will admit, however, that he looks like a kind of...work of art...in his own way."

"Wow. So...he works there now?" Deanne asked, the matchmaker in her alive and well.

"I have no idea. He may have just been hired for the one night. After all, there were several other security personnel on hand I've never seen before."

"What a shame," her sister replied in a kind of whimsical voice.

"A shame?"

"Well, yes. You and...Chad...would make such...beautiful babies," Deanne said almost melodramatically, the back of one hand on her forehead.

"Babies. Ha! Listen to you! That's hilarious!"

"Hey! I wonder if he's good in bed?" Deanne said, changing her facial expression and tone of voice.

"Unless you're planning on being unfaithful to your husband, we'll never know now, will we?" Donna replied in a faux snobbish sort of way.

"Right. Because the amazing Donna Hartley would never deign to go out with a mere..."

Deanne raised her nose high then said with a British accent, "A mere...security guard."

"That is so not true!" her older sister said with a hint of resentment.

"Oh, yes it is," Deanne insisted. "I'm not being mean here, but we both know you'd die of embarrassment if you were asked what your date did for a living."

Cornered yet again, Donna replied by saying, "It's a moot point anyway. As I said, he's way too young to even consider going out with let alone dating."

Deanne let out a sigh then asked, "How good looking did you say he was?"

"Oh, let me see. Imagine a young Brad Pitt mingled with a young Ashton Kutcher and throw in a bit of Charlie Hunan or Ryan Reynolds in their mid-20s, and..."

"Stop!" Deanne said as she pretending to gasp for breath. "You had me at a younger Brad Pitt! Any more and I'm going to simultaneously orgasm right here!"

Donna couldn't help but laugh. It was a little crass for her taste, and yet she had to admit he was handsome enough to cause that kind of reaction. And that thought only made her even more aware of just how alone she was.

"David asked me out," Donna said, hoping to move on from the fantasy hunk she'd only briefly seen.

"Really? David, as in head guy at the Art Institute, David?"

"Yes. That David."

"You said 'yes', I hope."

When Donna didn't answer right away, Deanne knew.

"No! You did not turn him down. Please tell me you didn't."

"It...it just wasn't the right time," Donna told her as though she were pleading her cause in a courtroom.

"He's a very good looking man. And he likes everything you like," her sister pleaded back.

"I know, I know. It's just..."

Donna knew she could tell Deanne how she felt, but actually saying it out loud made her sound more than merely snobbish. But when she begged Donna to tell her why, she gave in and shared her reasons.

"That is SO disgusting!" Deanne replied.

"What? Doing it with David or picturing him being all gray...down there?"

"No! The saggy skin thing," Deanne said with a shudder. "And, okay, the gray pubic hair thing isn't exactly sexy, either."

"And yet the gray around his temples kind of is," Donna replied, ignoring a word she felt shouldn't be used outside of a doctor's office.

"Yeah. Weird, huh?" her baby sister said before telling Donna she needed to get going.

"Okay. Sure. Go home to your handsome husband and two beautiful daughters," Donna teased. Or mostly teased.

"Don't give up, okay?" Deanne said encouragingly as they hugged goodbye.

"Well, nothing's going to happen as long as the Rembrandt is here. I can assure of that," her sister replied.

"So you're punting for another...how many months?"

"Two for the display and another two...ish for the restoration?"

"I'd say you'll be 41 before you have another date, but I don't feel like getting socked in the eye right now," Deanne said with a goofy smile, hoping to soften the blow of her words.

"Hey! I just turned 40, okay?"

Deanne almost spelled out the way another year would slip by but left well enough alone.

"So am I going to have to stop by the Institute if I want to see you between now and..."

Deanne was counting out the months, and that made Donna laugh.

"No. We'll still get together every week. I promise."

"Fine. But next week is at my place, okay?"

"I wouldn't miss it," Donna told her again.

"Unless you have a hot date. Which won't be happening," Deanne had to say.

"BYE, Dee-nan!" her sister said as she playfully pushed her out the door.

Donna arrived 30 minutes early the next morning in order to have her first 'alone time' with the painting. But to her surprise, it was covered with the heavy veil she assumed had been permanently removed.

David, a morning person if there ever was one, had been in for an hour already, and he saw her come in and made a beeline for her.

"You'll need to get me or security to raise that for you," he said, surprising her again from behind.

Guilt welled up inside her as Donna thought about the irony of needing his help after turning down his invitation to the Chicago Symphony.

"I don't mind," he told her, sensing her discomfort.

He pulled out his security card which had higher privileges than hers and swiped it. The overhead lights slowly came on, and as the heavy curtain raised up, and Donna was so captivated by the appearance of the painting that she forgot to thank him.

"I'll uh, I'll leave you two alone," David told her with a little laugh.

"David. I'm so sorry! Thank you. Thank you so very much!" she said when her rudeness made itself known.

He nearly told her he'd do anything for her, but he settled for saying it was his pleasure before heading back to his office.

And by the time Donna got to hers, she realized she would never get tired of looking at such an incredible work of art as she forced herself to focus on the now-mundane task of the day; a day that took forever in spite of the work she tried getting absorbed in. She left around 6pm, went home to have dinner and change clothes then returned at 10pm just as the museum was closing.

Her excitement built as she again passed through her work area on the way to see the Rembrandt when it hit her that she hadn't made arrangements with David.

"How can someone with this much education be so stu..." she began saying about herself when she heard footsteps in the gallery. It was dark but not pitch black, and she saw the security guard before he saw her.

He raised his flashlight to see who it was then lowered it without having shined it in her face which he'd seen. She, however, had not yet seen his.

"Hello, again," Donna heard him say very cheerfully as he walked to within two feet of her.

His face came into view from what little light was available, and she also glanced at his shirt.

"Chad, right?" she asked as though he might be wearing the someone else's shirt.

"That would be me," he told her in a pleasant voice with a smile. "I'm assuming you're hear to see a certain painting?"

"Yes. Guilty as charged," Donna told him.

"Mr. Dumond told me to expect you," Chad replied as he hit a button on a fob he was carrying.

The overhead lighting slowly grew in intensity, and Donna could now see his face clearly. He walked over to the security reader and swiped his card, and the heavy veil slowly began to rise.

"Thank you," Donna said with genuine sincerity.

"My pleasure," Chad told her as he watched the painting reappear with the same rapt attention as this attractive, older woman.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Chad said once it was fully displayed.

"Yes. Stunning. Even awe inspiring," Donna agreed.

He moved a little closer then said, "I've known—academically—for quite some time that Rembrandt was a master of shadow and light, but seeing it person is...incredible."

Donna had already been captivated by the painting, but his comment caused her to turn to look at the younger man in the blue shirt who was standing beside her.

"How is it that you know that?" she asked with no thought as to how he might know it.

"Oh, gosh. I think the first time I heard it was in an art appreciation class in college," he told her matter of factly.

"Oh. So...you went to college?" Donna said more than asked, unaware that her question had a ring of surprise to it that some might find offensive.

Chad didn't. He fully understood. He was a security guard, and from what David Dumond had told him about Donna Hartley he was aware that she was an expert in the area of restoration.

"I did. Not all at once though," he offered without explaining.

"Did you take a year off?" she asked as she tried not stare at his chiseled features.

"More like four years," he replied with a little laugh.

"You'll have to help me out here," Donna told him, a look of confusion on her face. "If it's not too personal."

"It is personal," he replied with a warm smile, "but I don't mind telling you."

He stopped looking at the painting, turned toward her then explained.

"I went to a community college for two years but ran out of money. My parents didn't have much themselves, and I wasn't mature enough to work full-time and go to school full-time so I found a way to pay for it."

"I'm still kind of lost," Donna said as Chad looked at her.

"I enlisted in the Air Force. Mostly for the GI Bill. I was proud to serve my country, but I'd never have gone in had I been able to pay my own way. But I couldn't so the military seemed like a reasonable way to earn the money I needed to finish my degree."

"Okay. I understand now," Donna told him. "So you were in the Air Force for four years, got out, then went back to college?"

"I did," Chad said, confirming her understanding. "I applied to The University of Illinois in Springfield where I grew up and finished the last two years."

"That's very impressive," Donna told him even as she was dying to know why someone with a four-year degree in any field of study would be working as a security guard.

She didn't ask about that but rather inquired as to his major.

"I stayed with art history," Chad told her. "And somewhere in those two years I learned a lot more about Rembrandt and this painting, which, by the way, is quite possibly my favorite of all his works."

"It's arguably his most famous," Donna agreed, "but my personal favorite is..."

"Let me guess!" Chad said, politely cutting her off.

"Okay. Go ahead," Donna replied with a smile of amusement.

Chad turned even more her way then pretended to be studying her.

"Of course. You're a Self Portrait kind of girl," he told her very authoritatively.

"Not bad," she replied with a smile. "That's #3. My second favorite is The Storm on the Sea of Galilee."

"I'm a fan of The Return of the Prodigal Son myself, but The Storm is amazing."

Donna stood there looking at him for several seconds before Chad asked if everything was okay.

"Yes. I think I'm just fascinated by the fact that you're so familiar with Rembrandt."

Chad laughed quietly then said what she'd been thinking.

"Not too many security guards know art, huh?"

Once the words were spoken out loud, Donna could hear her sister whispering in her ear, "Snob!"

"I...I suppose I may have been thinking that," Donna admitted rather apologetically.

"It's okay. We humans are pattern-seeking creatures and we also use generalization to help us survive. We have to careful where people are concerned, but if we couldn't learn from a hot stove that an open flame will burn us just as badly, we'd have a lot more difficulty as a species, right?" he said with another little laugh.