I would take him walking along the harbour past the statue of The Little Mermaid and to the Citadel. We would look at the surroundings and ponder life during wartime Europe. We would walk through the Churchill Garden and see St. Alban's church and Jack would share trivia about World War II received through various literature. He would grip my arm with his right hand and gesture up imaginary battle scenes with his left. And I would nod in contemplation.
Then we would proceed down Langelinje and stand at the central axis cross of Copenhagen on which the castle of Amalienborg sits perfectly across the channel from the Opera and we would appreciate the architectural grandeur and almost "spiritual", Jack would say, reverence for geometrical clarity, which can be found in the layouts of great cities of Monarchical nations.
On through the Kgs. Nytorv, up through the city centre, across the lakes and walk around Nørrebro, where we would survey the streets for a nice lunch and agree that we were "well deserving" of a pint at that point. Jack would look at the menu for "something light," but order the steak tartare. I would get a croque madame.
We would then settle into a warm stream of conversation and the lunch would extend hours until we were six or seven pints each had been posted. Then we would find a vibrant looking bar and I would ask a pair of sweet looking girls if we could join then at their table since there were no more empty seats. And from there I would watch as Jack slowly realized that in this moment he could be anybody, a realization that merged with his actions in real time as he opened up himself to the lovely young blonde. And I would keep the conversation going with my interlocuter, a perfunctory nod or comment here or there but really I would be watching Jack as he gestured and joked yet remained perfectly gentlemanly.