“Not at all,” responded David.
“The Art Museum?”
“Yes.”
“The Cleveland Art Museum? Down there by Case Western, bottom of Cedar Hill, over toward 105th and Chester, Wade Park?”
“That’s the one. There is no other. Accept no substitutes.”
“You’re joking,” said Cindy.
“Not at all.”
“If you want to commit suicide, why not swim in the Cuyahoga or take a day at Edgewater Park?”
“Edgewater’s nice. They’ve cleaned it up, you know.”
“What? You mean the fish don’t come there to die anymore?”
“Not at all.”
“You know why, don’t you?”
“Why?”
“Because there are no longer any fish in Lake Erie,” she said slowly and with emphasis.
David laughed.
“I’m not kidding. Detroit killed them at one end. Buffalo killed them at the other. And Cleveland killed them in the middle. What are you laughing a
