Exposure
9
Political Activist
IT SEEMED LIKE my birthday weekend was over in a flash. Saturday night, I took Patricia out while Anna got to sit with the baby. It was nice just to sit with Patricia at dinner and catch up on everything that was happening in Tenbrook. Then it was nice to go park with Patricia and make love.
“I’m really your girlfriend,” she whispered as we moved together in the back of the microbus.
“Have you been doubting it?” I asked. “I know I’ll never be what Tony was to you. There’s just too much there, and I can’t treat you like he did. I have other… responsibilities. But, Patricia, I love you and I love that little sprout who is growing so fast I can’t keep up with her. You are my girlfriend.”
“Sometimes while you’re gone, I can’t imagine that anyone loves me and that I’m not all alone. I mean, my parents and Tony’s parents are wonderful. They don’t let me get away with being lazy, but they’re always there when I need someone,” she said. “And if they aren’t, your parents are as much grandparents to Little Toni as mine are. But the studio is a lonely place to hang out now. You aren’t there. Anna isn’t there. Ronda isn’t there. Sometimes Janice comes over to hang out. And, of course, Kat occasionally has a model that she works with.”
“I’m glad you’re monitoring that. I mean, I’m also glad Kat is seriously working on her art, but I worry about her with models. Someone could get the wrong idea.”
“Well, so far, we’ve all been girls. Julie, me, and Vanessa. I’ll suggest that when she’s ready for a male model, she not have him go fully nude. I think I can explain the problem. Maybe you should model for her when she’s ready,” she laughed. Her laughter did wonderful things to my cock, sheathed to the hilt in her pussy.
“I’d have to be on drugs to do that,” I said. “I don’t think either of us should model for the other.”
“Probably right. I was just trying to think of a boy I’d be comfortable that she was safe with.”
“Do you hear from Judy, too?” I asked.
“Janice hears occasionally. Janice is about as lonely as I am. I think she and Pete might up their wedding date. Either that or she’ll just go down and shack up with him,” Patricia said. “Pris stops by sometimes. She’s in a tech school course to become an electrician, believe it or not.”
“That’s amazing. What inspired her?”
“Her whole family are electricians. They have a contracting business that is pretty good, I guess. So, she’s planning to go to work in the family business.”
“Patricia, honey, I’m getting close.”
“Oh, good. I’ve been talking just to hold off. Show me. Show me how much you love me.”
I accelerated my pace and Patricia rose right along with me. When I filled the condom with come, she clamped on me in the throes of her own orgasm. It was hard to believe that I was making love to this incredibly beautiful woman—the mother of my goddaughter. I was a little worried, though. Patricia had always been slim with that incredible rack on her chest, but she was looking too thin these days. I’d talk to her about it after we finished making love.
“Did you have fun back home?” Anna asked as we drove east out of Tenbrook toward her stop in Rockford.
“Yeah. Seemed like it went awfully fast, though. You?” I asked.
“Well, aside from the fact that my boyfriend only had time to make love to me once on the day he picked me up, it wasn’t too bad.”
“Did I neglect you, honey?”
“You did the best you could. I had to talk to Miss Sullivan about the schedule for Christmas. That first week is going to be a tough one with all the seniors at school, but the next two weeks will be pretty packed, too, I’ll bet. There’s already a buzz among the juniors about having an Attic Allure portrait done. They saw what they are like in your exhibition in June. I think Lisa has been promoting something, too.”
“I don’t want to mess around with a bunch of younger girls,” I said. “I feel guilty about the ones I’ve photographed already.”
“Well, only two of those posed nude, and they got exactly what they wanted. I’ll try to monitor the schedule so we don’t get jammed,” Anna said.
“Thank you for once again riding into the breach. I wish Christine were here to help pose them. I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t complain to you about not having Chris. You have always done a great job with helping to get people posed. It seems unfair that you should do that and manage the schedule and billing and orders as well,” I said.
“Honey, I know you miss Chris. And I know it’s not just for the photos. I wish growing up didn’t include heartbreaks. You know, after I broke up with you… That’s still a painful memory for me. I caused it. I forced you to choose and you chose right. But I cried. I cried all that night and almost every time I saw you with Chris and Ronda. Getting back together with you… becoming your girlfriend again… making love to you… It all is better than I could have imagined. But when I think of that day, it still breaks my heart. Don’t be ashamed of having a broken heart over Chris, just because you have other girlfriends who adore you,” she giggled.
I put my arm around her and hugged her to me, even though the road was rough and I was bouncing down it.
“Turn left at the next corner,” she instructed.
“Where are we going?” I asked. “Did you want to take me to Wisconsin again?”
“I don’t think we need to go that far this time. I think it’s just another mile up here.”
We reached the entrance of another state park and drove in, finding a place where we didn’t think we’d be disturbed for a while. It was ‘after the season’ and few people were around. As soon as I parked, we tumbled out of the front seat and ran to the doors into the back. And soon thereafter, we were naked and making love.
“Hi. I’m Carrie Lockhart,” the dark-haired girl said in the hall outside class.
“Oh. Hi. I’m… uh... Nate Hart. English comp, right?”
“You do pay attention. Except, they want us to call it Writing and Rhetoric,” she said.
“Yeah, whatever. It's basically learning to write like a collegian, right?” I said.
“I suppose so. Some of us have to write whole sentences. We can’t just show pretty pictures. This is Devon Young.”
I looked at the guy next to her and for the life of me couldn't place him in any of my classes. I shook my head and held out my hand.
“Nate Hart,” I said.
“Your roommate,” he answered. His handshake was kind of soft.
“Oh! I think I only saw you once briefly when you first arrived. You kind of dove into your room and never came out,” I said. I did remember him showing up, but I’d never seen him in the room or in any of our classes.
“You were pretty scary,” Devon said.
“I guess I was still kind of banged up.”
“You were really out there, weren’t you? In the battle,” Carrie said. She seemed excited about that.
“I was on my way to the dormitory and stopped to take pictures. Some stupid cop decided I didn’t have a right to be there and started beating on me. It was nothing I did. I wasn’t part of the protest. Lost a good camera lens.”
“It was probably because of this,” she said, tapping the peace symbol I wore. I’d only taken it off to shower since Patricia gave it to me. I hardly remembered I was wearing it.
“Shit! That never even occurred to me. Another cop who helped me escape said that if I enter a war zone, I should expect to get shot at. I didn’t get it at the time.”
“Marked you as an enemy combatant,” Devon said.
“Damn!”
“We’re trying to start a chapter of SDS. We’d like you to join,” Carrie said.
I just looked at her. Then I looked at Devon. I’m sure my mouth was hanging open.
“You thought I was scary?!” I said.
I hadn’t really hung out that much with other students. It seemed my time was taken up with either study, studio, or Elizabeth. I agreed to go out for coffee with Carrie and Devon after my last class on Friday. We ended up at a café on State Street and since I had to eat dinner anyway, I decided to order my meal. Carrie and Devon did likewise.
“Don’t you usually have a girlfriend with you on Friday nights?” Carrie asked.
“Elizabeth. Her sister is home this weekend and she went home to celebrate her birthday. Um… Elizabeth went home to celebrate her sister Valerie’s birthday,” I explained.
“Hah! Professor Dickens has you sorting out antecedents!” Carrie laughed.
“Yeah, well, it’s easy to get things confused. Probably didn’t make any difference this time,” I said.
“It did,” Devon nodded. “I thought it was your girlfriend’s birthday and was going to ask why you weren’t celebrating with her.”
“Okay. But I corrected myself. Let’s forget about it.” My French dip arrived with the rest of the food and I dunked it into the au jus and savored the first bite.
“So, we’ve got no real choices for president this year unless you’re a war hawk or a racist. We need to launch a huge protest and get people to say no to any of the three,” Carrie said.
“And vote for who?” I asked. “As if we could vote. I’m not going to trade in my anti-war philosophy for a racist. That’s stupid.”
“We campaign for Fred Halstead.”
“Who’s that?”
“He’s the candidate of the Socialist Workers Party,” Carrie said as if it solved everything.
“To quote my favorite poets, ‘But if you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao, you ain’t going to make it with anyone anyhow.’ I’m probably a good ways left of center, but I’m not that far. Why don’t we just support Pat Paulsen? If you’re going to encourage protest votes, make them mean something. Vote for a man who admits he’s a comedian,” I said.
“We just want a little help. You say you’re a pacifist. You have to be concerned with this election,” Devon said.
“I am. As it stands today, Hubert Humphrey sucks. But he sucks less than Richard Nixon or George Wallace. Half the time, Nixon agrees with Wallace. The other half, he agrees with Johnson. Humphrey has finally come out in favor of stopping the bombing as a condition of peace talks. I think he wanted that all along, but Johnson has had him under his thumb,” I said.
“Okay. So, we’re all against the war and in favor of civil rights,” Carrie said. “That’s common ground, right? Will you help us?”
“What do you want me to do? I’m about as apolitical as you can get. I hate all the parties and all the candidates. And I’m just as impotent as every other nineteen-year-old in America. We. Have. No. Voice.”
“We can get a voice,” Carrie insisted. “We want everyone to contribute his or her strengths to the cause. What do you do? We’ll take your photography.”
“I take glamour photos of naked girls,” I said. “How can I help?”
I was getting a little fed up with the whole high-pressure sales job Carrie was pulling. If she showed me any kind of a plan to help end the war, I’d listen. But so far, all she’d come up with was to protest. As if that would do any good. She just looked at me with her mouth open and shook her head.
“You’re really an ass, Hart.” She gathered up her food and left, stopping at the cash register to pay and get a bag. Devon stayed and took a bite of his sandwich.
“You aren’t fleeing with Carrie?” I asked.
“Um… No. I guess I was right the first time. You’re scarier than she is. I think it’s safer to be in your shadow.”
“Devon! Damn! I’m not scary. I’m such a dove, I can’t walk in the park because people throw breadcrumbs at me.”
“Yeah. I get that. I’m glad. But you’re the first person I’ve ever seen who got the best of Carrie. She usually just keeps brow-beating people until they nod and say yes,” Devon said.
“Well, let’s keep that between us. I kind of like her, but she could get on a guy’s nerves, you know?” I laughed.
“Oh, yeah. And don’t worry about me if you’re interested in her. I’m not. Um… You really take glamour pictures of naked girls?” he asked.
“Yeah. But please understand, I don’t allow observers. I have four women who work with me and they are the only ones I allow in the studio during a shoot,” I said. Unless you’re one of my patrons, I added silently to myself.
“I wasn’t going to suggest that! I’m really not interested in seeing naked girls. I was going to ask if you did guys, too.”
I let that sink in before I responded. I don’t do guys, but I’d photographed them before. Which was he asking?
“I photograph just about anyone who wants to pay for a portrait. I try not to discriminate regarding who is sitting. But as one of my girlfriends pointed out to me, I have a preference for people with boobs.”
He laughed out loud at that.
“I wasn’t actually suggesting that you’d date me. But… I could use some really good publicity shots. If you’re really good at glamour shots, you might be just what I need,” he said.
“Well, I have a style that seems to be popular with a lot of models and with a few agencies,” I said. “I call it Attic Allure. I have a studio with a gazillion props and costumes at hand. I try to set a scene for my models and then photograph them in a way that will make their glamour shot be something more than a pretty face. What do you need publicity for?”
“I’m a drag queen.”
I had an assignment for photo journalism to cover a controversial event in the city. We could choose just about anything. There was no shortage of controversy in Chicago. A strike was threatening to close down the docks. The mayor was holding a press conference to talk up the Humphrey-Muskie ticket. Cicero was dealing with a power outage that had been fluctuating for nearly a week. But what was I going to find that had an interesting photo angle?
As it happened, Cassie pulled me aside before our studio appointment Saturday morning. I had a new agency make an appointment for a model to get an Attic Allure sitting. It would be interesting to see how it developed.
“I talked to yo girlfriend Nancy other night,” Cassie started.
“Nancy isn’t my girlfriend,” I started to protest.
“She said she wished they was a photographer up on the roof of Harrison Technical High School this comin’ Thursday. They’d get some fine pictures,” Cassie continued.
That gave me pause. Nancy was passing on information from the hood to give me a shot at some photos. Harrison had been in the news a month ago when a thousand black students walked out of class in protest. It was pretty short-lived. I wondered if they were planning a strike again.
“Hmm. I wonder how I could get up on the roof of Harrison High,” I said. “I might have to do some scouting. Thursday, you say?”
“Well, Nancy was just laughing about how if a photographer only knew a fella named Hammer would be at 24th and California at six in the morning, he’d probably be able to follow him up to the roof.”
Harrison was a little far out of Hammer’s hood, but who knew what he was doing. Maybe he was just going to observe.
“Remind me to give my girlfriend Nancy a kiss,” I said.
“You could start by giving your assistant Cassie a kiss, don’t you think?”
“Cassie…?” She just turned her lips up to me and I kissed her. It was just a little kiss, but Cassie smiled.
“See? Tha’s a start.”
I ran downstairs to find Levi.
“Levi, I need a telephoto lens for the Nikon,” I said as soon as I found him in the repair shop.
“What do you need a telephoto for? Trying to look through the windows in the girls’ dormitory?” he laughed, as he worked on a large format bellows camera.
“Ah, no. That never occurred to me. I want something I can take pictures with that keeps me out of the range of a billy club,” I said. Levi’s head came up at that.
“I think I have something. Nikkor 200mm that came in last week. It’s an f/4 lens, but I’m told it functions best around f/5.6 to f/11. Closest focal range is ten feet, so you won’t be taking pictures of anyone beating on you. Not too heavy. How far away do you plan to be?”
“I expect I’ll be fifty to a hundred yards. Could be a little more, but I’ll want to get a decent focus on faces,” I said.
“Try this out. Bring it back when you’ve tried it and if it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else. I’ve got a 300mm pro lens coming in, but I think it’s too much.”
“Thanks, Levi. Anna will be here next weekend. She’ll cover the payments and get the insurance straightened around,” I said. I ran back upstairs to get ready for my client.
I had Leora and Cassie as my assistants and Georgia Livingston as my client. She was tall and graceful—what I imagined the elves in Lord of the Rings to be like. I almost called her Galadriel. She was taller than I was and I looked up into her bright silver-blue eyes when we shook hands. Her straight and silky blonde hair hung nearly to her waist in back. She was angelic in her movement.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Georgia. Welcome to Attic Allure.”
“I’m charmed,” she drawled in a southern accent.
“I take it you are not from Chicago,” I laughed.
“No. Georgia is my stage name and is taken from my home in Savannah.”
“We have a release from you that allows us to use your photos in exchange for your sitting and initial photos. Are you here of your own free will, without being coerced? And can you tell me a little about what you would like?” I asked. I think both Leora and Cassie were staring open-mouthed at the beauty. I was disciplining myself not to.
“I have discussed it with my agent and would like a good range of portfolio shots. I agreed that this would be a good place to get them. The Attic Allure photos have made a bit of a stir in the business. You will note that the release specifically excludes nude photos, by which I mean any photo that shows my nipples or my pudenda. I will gladly pose nude as long as that privacy is maintained.”
“We can work with that. Do you have any fantasies that you see yourself in for a photo?”
“Yes, but you don’t have a horse.”
“Um… What?”
“Lady Godiva.”
“Oh! A horse does make an appearance there. Perhaps the Peter and Gordon version?”
“There’s a thought! Let’s just start to work and see where it goes.”
It went everywhere I hoped it would. Georgia was enthusiastic about posing and reminded me a lot of Patricia. We started with portrait poses so I could see a range of her expressions. In addition to being beautiful, she had a face that could do just about anything. Leora and Cassie got right into the rhythm. They brought costumes and props that Georgia and I turned into scenes. And, of course, Georgia progressively wore less and less. As her clothes fell away, our touches increased. And it was not simply me touching her to put her in position, but she seemed just as free in touching me.
I smoothed her hair over her beautiful breasts, gliding my hands across the sensitive nipples. Georgia’s hands came up to my chest and found my nipples as she leaned forward and kissed me.
“If you happened to get a couple photos that showed more intimate parts of me—like what you are handling—I wouldn’t make you destroy them, as long as you were the only one who had a copy,” she whispered.
The next sequence had the veil of her hair parting just enough to expose her nipples to my lens.
“Beautiful,” I said, as we finished after close to three hours of work. “I know we have a dozen portfolio-worthy shots. Now, I want to take it one level further.”
“If you take it any further, you’ll need to get undressed, too,” Georgia giggled.
“Ahmmm… Perhaps I wasn’t clear about no sex in the studio and about not dating models,” I said.
“I wasn’t really thinking about doing it in the studio,” she said. “And we don’t need to date. I’d just really like to fuck you once. Or twice. However many times you can get it up. But for now, we can just go with the level you were implying.”
“Oh, Georgia. You may be more than I can resist. For now, though, I’d like to put you on a pedestal.”
The girls brought our little pillar and pulled the black drape down. We lit it as tightly and dramatically as we could and I moved Georgia to it. Cassie rushed forward with a cushion for the pillar and I lifted Georgia up to sit on it. We used the classic pose of her leaning slightly forward, her hair falling across her breasts. Her far leg was stretched out to the ground while the near leg was bent and pulled up toward her chest. The arc of her bottom was absolutely delectable. I took a couple of pictures and went to put my arm around her shoulders and shift her slightly so I could get her looking straight at me.
“Georgia, honey, how do you feel about getting a little wet?” I asked.
“Nate, I think that if you feel around a little, you’ll find that I’m more than a little wet already.”
I gave her a little kiss.
“I might just take you up on that,” I said. “But I’m going to have the girls spray a little water into the air above you and take the photo as it falls on you.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, which did wonderful things for the breast that was somehow in my hand.
“I can see it,” she whispered. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
I got the girls equipped with spray bottles of water and we tested them away from where anything important would get wet. I was satisfied that the droplets from the mist were large enough that I’d be able to see them and put the girls on either side of Georgia, just out of the frame. Then I had them start spraying. At first, Georgia looked a little startled, then she smiled. As we continued with the shots, she lifted her face into the rain and laughed. It was beautiful.
Leora and Cassie quickly got things put away as Georgia dressed. They took off, giving me a good luck sign as they headed down the stairs. Georgia came out from behind the privacy screen and I reached to give her a hug. She seemed a little stiff.
“If you want to come to my place, it’s not far,” I said.
“Your place? Why?” she asked.
“Uh, you said you’d like to get together for a while. I was going to accept.”
“Oh, God, Nate. You can’t be serious. That was all part of the role. I had a blast and I hope you did, too. But I wasn’t serious about doing anything later. I just thought it helped add to the connection and the way we were working together. I hope you had as much fun as I did!”
What? Oh, my God! Caught in my own web. I started laughing.
“I had a blast!” I said. “Sorry, it takes me a few minutes to get out of character when I finish sometimes.”
“Oh, don’t I know it! I was a swan for a week after the ballet closed. As long as you don’t think we really have something going, we’re good.”
“No, of course not. I’ll have proof sheets for you to pick up on Wednesday. They’ll be at the counter downstairs. You were great fun to have as a model, Georgia. Maybe we’ll work together again sometime.”
“It’s always possible. See you, Nate.”
You know what? She didn’t even have a southern accent any longer.
I went to my pay phone and called Ronda. This was the kind of story she’d love.
I ran around between classes Monday through Wednesday, testing my 200mm telephoto. I did a lot of outside work and had Elizabeth pose near a statue while I went down the block and tried to pick her out with the lens. I realized this was a two-eye job. I needed to look through the lens and focus with one eye and have the other open to help pick out the subject and get aimed at it.
I got a couple of cute pictures of her that were the nearest I could come to a candid shot when the subject knew she was being photographed, but not when.
Thursday morning, I was up early and stepped off the bus at 24th and California at 5:45. I didn’t see anyone around, but five minutes later, Hammer stepped out of the bushes and motioned me to follow him. No greeting, just a quick wave to get me to follow along.
I don’t know how Hammer arranged it, but we got to a back entrance to the school about ten feet from the boulevard bushes. The door opened at Hammer’s knock. A janitor just nodded to us and Hammer led me upstairs. He found the door to the roof and we went out into the cool air. When we reached the edge of the roof, we sat down and he finally spoke.
“We’re not officially involved in this. The old Rangers and Martin’s code of non-violence are pretty much no more. Jeff started calling us the Black Peace Stone Nation. Our club of thirty guys is trying to stay away from the heavies. I’m here because I helped write the Harrison Manifesto. I met with some of the Latino guys who have decided this affects both black and Latino.”
“What happened back in August? I got word that you’d been arrested,” I said. I set about getting the telephoto on the camera and sighting in on the likely areas where people would gather.
“That was all because of a comment Fort made about offing Daley and Humphrey both. Daley’s goons just swept in on every neighborhood group in the city and arrested the leaders. Yours truly down in our little hood. Once they realized they didn’t have anything on us and had to either charge us with something or let us go, we were set free. Took ’em a week. By then all the excitement was over. I hear you got caught up in it.”
“I’d probably have been arrested when they picked me up off the street where I was lying after the cop beat me. Your pal Macalister spotted me and shoved me off to my dorm. My girlfriend found me passed out on the floor and called help to get me to a hospital.”
“Mac’s a good guy and tries to be a negotiator. They’ll get rid of him soon enough. Daley doesn’t want any good guys on his force. It’s getting harder to control gangs. The more he tries to tighten up, the more they push back. I tried to keep us out of drugs. You know, we were all protection and a little gambling. Now some of the guys are dealing from the Roosevelt gang.”
“You’ve gotta get out of it, man. It’s not going to end well.”
“There’s no out, Nate. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. Early out means early death,” he said. Students were arriving for classes now and I got a couple of shots.
“Shit, Hammer. There’s got to be some way.”
“All I can do is keep trying to protect the hood and do some good. I keep some good kids from getting mixed up in it. Maybe this strike will get some results and improve the education we’re offered. Maybe Nance will manage to become a lawyer and get elected mayor or something. Maybe, maybe, maybe.”
It was obvious the police had gotten word that something was going down. It wasn’t a huge presence, but there were a dozen squad cars circling the school—probably watching for people like Hammer and me. Rabble-rousers, inciting people to riot. I was willing to bet there were a lot more cops nearby.
We didn’t need to wait long. About five minutes after the first bell rang, students began pouring out of the school. They had signs and were chanting slogans. I zeroed in on anyone I thought looked sympathetic. One of the problems with the Battle on Michigan Avenue was that the photos of the protestors made them look like aggressors and rioters. The cops looked like they were quelling the riot instead of randomly wading in and beating people.
And there they were. Police seemed to materialize around the perimeter of the school grounds. They all had clubs and I could see some just tapping the palms of their hands as they tried to tell the students to get back in school.
This time, I caught it starting as a cop turned to a kid and just punched him in the stomach with the end of his billy. The area around him started to clear and other officers moved forward, pushing the students back toward their school. There wasn’t a sign of a weapon or so much as a rock in the hands of the students. A few yelled back at the police and refused to move. They were moved with beatings. Eventually, most of the students were back inside the school and the police continued their patrol, tapping their billy clubs and threatening anyone who tried to leave the school.
“Damn it! I need to get to the lab and develop this film so I can get it to the newspaper,” I said. “How am I going to get out of here?”
“Same way we came in. Out the back and into the bushes. Cops are good on pavement. They’re crap on the boulevard. Come on. Let’s go.”
Silently—the same way we came in—I followed Hammer down the stairs. A lot of students had taken up positions in the cafeteria and police pushed through the doors and just started clubbing them. I managed to grab a couple of pictures and Hammer dragged me out the door the janitor held open for us. We dashed into the brush on the boulevard and down to California Avenue. I jumped out just as a bus was arriving and was back in the Loop in forty minutes. I went straight to the studio and started developing and printing pictures.
“How did you manage to get these?” the news editor demanded. “I sent experienced professionals and they couldn’t get near. Police blocked every access.”
“I got a tip and was there before it all started. I’d rather not say where I was or how I got in,” I said.
“I can imagine. Okay, kid. You’ve got your first byline. Harvey! Interview this kid; find out exactly what happened down at Harrison. He’s got pictures. I want ten inches if it’s good. If it isn’t good, it goes to page two.”
I was taken by a reporter who looked at the pictures and then started asking questions. I said I’d been invited into the school that morning. I didn’t say by whom. I said that while in the building—I considered the roof to be in the building—I saw what was happening and started taking pictures. I even had copies of the two manifestos. Both demanding better education with slightly different demands from the black community and the Latino communities.
It was dinnertime when I headed back to the dormitory and met Elizabeth. Then I waited until morning to see if the pictures and story had actually made the news.
I grabbed a paper on my way to class Friday morning. When I got to my photojournalism class, Professor Jonas pointed an accusing finger at me. I guess when your class only has a dozen students in it, you’re missed if you don’t show up.
“Where were you yesterday?” he demanded. “We had an unbelievable opportunity. There was a three-car pile-up on Michigan Avenue. Right in front of the campus! We had live news happening and most of this class was on the spot to record it. Where were you?”
I opened the morning paper to the front page and pointed to my picture of a cop beating down a student at Harrison. Byline: Nate Hart.
“Faaaack!” Jonas said. “How did you get this?”
“I got a tip from the hood and a guide to get me into the school early yesterday morning. This all went down before the accident on Michigan Avenue even happened. But I had to make my way back to my lab and print the pictures, then go to the newspaper and they interviewed me as an eyewitness. I didn’t get back to campus until close to six. It was kind of a long day,” I said, yawning.
“Okay, class. Here’s a good example to look at. Compare and contrast. Most of us ran out and took pictures of an auto accident yesterday. Nate took pictures of a protest at a high school. Tell me about the difference,” Jonas said.
“Nate got published in the newspaper,” one of the guys said.
“Why?”
“Because it was an interesting news event?” Leslie asked. Okay, so I know the names of the girls in my class. Couldn’t tell you who the guy was.
“It had broader interest, perhaps. Though we were focused on the controversy and that auto accident added fuel to the drive for better traffic signals at our corner. Why weren’t any of your pictures in the newspaper?” Jonas asked.
“We didn’t take any pictures to the newspaper. It was a class assignment,” said another kid. He was a tall redhead and I wasn’t sure he’d showered since he started school here.
“Oh! So, being a class assignment made it non-newsworthy? Did any of you take a picture for this assignment before the accident? A couple? Good. Let me tell you the one major difference between the two situations—and if you grok this and take it to heart, it will make a huge difference in your photojournalism career. We all kept our cameras at hand. We were all ready for the action shot. On one side, we responded to the situation and got good pictures. Jason, your picture of that woman standing beside her car crying was sheer pathos. We all know now to get the damn photo to the paper before deadline. Even if it’s just a class assignment.”
Everyone laughed at the understanding that whether it was a class assignment didn’t affect whether it was news.
“But here’s the big difference,” Jonas continued. “Nate used contacts and went to where the news was GOING TO happen. Not all of you have the same kind of contacts. Not all of you are from Chicago. But finding and nurturing contacts is one of the most important things a photojournalist can do. Following the tip put Nate where the action would be so he was ready for it.”
“How are you spending the weekend, Nate?”
“Um… Catching up on the assignments from all the classes I missed yesterday,” I said.
At least everyone laughed.
Of course, that wasn’t what I was doing for the rest of the weekend. I was cutting one more class—World History—and as soon as photo lab was over at noon, I headed for the bus station. It was about ten blocks and I made it in twenty minutes, so I was there in plenty of time to meet Anna’s bus when it got in from Rockford. She stepped off the bus and into my arms, carrying just a shoulder bag. She was dressed for the walk back and wanted to go straight to Camera Warehouse to see Levi and Cassie.
I think everyone in the store was more excited to see Anna than they ever were to see me. She got hugs from Lucy at the cash register and from Loren, who never comes out of the darkroom for anyone else. We went to the mezzanine and into Levi’s office where Cassie was sitting with a string of adding machine tape that was getting longer as she worked.
“There, Levi. It’s balanced,” Cassie said. “Anna! I’m so happy to see you.”
“Have these guys been working you too hard? You look thin,” Anna said.
“Give me a break. I work with you model types and feel fat whenever I’m near you. I have all the materials and supplies listed here. We might as well take the books upstairs and sit in the studio to go over them,” Cassie said. I noticed Cassie stumbled less in her speaking when she saw Anna or was talking about the books.
We went up to the work table in the studio and Cassie went over the records of supplies and payments to Leora and Theresa. She had all the income records from the models this fall. She had really done a good job. Then we came to the item I knew would throw a flag in the air for Anna to dive at.
“Another $300 lens? After you had to replace the one in August? Is this something necessary or are you collecting lenses because you’re a photographer and you can never have too many?” she asked.
I just put the newspaper in front of her and pointed at the picture on the front page. She looked at it and looked at my byline. She turned to me.
“Today?”
“Today’s paper. I took the picture yesterday. From about 200 yards away. I was on the roof of the school—safely out of the way of being beaten by out-of-control cops.”
“Okay. We can cover that. I’ll talk to Levi about how he wants to handle it. You need to pick up more copies of this newspaper and start a clipping file. Speaking of which, do you have a fireproof file cabinet here?” she asked.
“Um… not yet. Levi says he has a line on one and we should have it soon,” I said.
“Nice work, Cassie,” Anna said. “I’m so glad you are here and handling the books for Levi and keeping Nate on track.”
“Oh, Anna, I can’t tell you how thankful I am to have this job. I love the work and I can even tolerate your boyfriend, if you know what I mean.”
“The idea is to enjoy, not to tolerate, if you know what I mean,” Anna shot back. “Let’s go meet Elizabeth for dinner. I’m starved.”
That ended the meeting and Cassie told us to have fun. We got back to the dormitory in time to meet Elizabeth when she got back from class. Then we were off for a night of fun and excitement—or whatever trouble we could find.
We had plenty of fun. Elizabeth had tickets for us to see Donovan at the Auditorium Theatre just a couple of blocks away and the concert was great. Of course, everyone knew “Mellow Yellow” and “There is a Mountain.” “Epistle to Dipply” was a surprise. And when he got into a calypso beat with “Sunshine Superman” we were all rocking. I loved “Season of the Witch” and “Hurdy Gurdy Man.”
Then Elizabeth kissed Anna and me both goodnight and I took Anna into my room. We giggled about how it was like sneaking into my bedroom at my house, only we’d never done that. Regardless, we hushed each other with kisses and made love as quietly as possible. Saturday morning, Anna went up to Elizabeth’s room to shower and get ready for our day in the studio.
“You’re so good at this, and I really need your help this morning,” I told Anna as she, Elizabeth, and I walked to the studio.
“What’s so unique about this session?” Beth asked.
“Well, our client is a little unusual,” I said to the girls. “You’ll see when she arrives. I didn’t think Leora or Cassie could handle this, so I’ve got Theresa this morning. You see, we have Dora Devine this morning.”
“That name sounds familiar,” Anna said. “Is she a popular model?”
“Not exactly. She’s a drag queen.”
“A… You mean… A guy?” Anna asked. I nodded.
“Oh, geez! You’re afraid to touch her!” Elizabeth laughed at me.
“Not exactly. She knows I don’t swing that way and is fine with the whole setup. But she knows I do glamour shots and wants a full treatment of the Attic Allure look for her publicity photos.”
“Why are you calling him her?” Anna asked.
“Because while in the studio, she is a woman. We’re going to give her the full treatment.”
“I get it. Like with Kent. He only needs to have you in the room to perform. You need me to actually get him posed.”
“There’s just one major difference,” I said.
“He isn’t hung like Kent?” Anna laughed.
“I don’t know. But it is critical to her performance that she not expose any male parts. I might need to retreat a while if he starts getting too turned on,” I explained.
“This is going to be too funny,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s not tell Theresa and see how long it takes for her to figure it out.”
We agreed.
“Glitz,” I said, when we got to the studio and Theresa joined us. “I think there are some feather boas and showgirl types of costumes, Theresa. I think that fan-back wicker chair will be helpful. And let’s hang the four blue fabric strips in front of the blue backdrop. It will give it a nice variegated texture. Elizabeth, she’s pretty good at her makeup, but please stand by in case she needs assistance with hair or eyes. Anna, work your magic and put her at ease. I’ll go downstairs and greet her.”
I left the girls to get the setting and props ready and went downstairs to meet my roommate, Devon. I wasn’t letting anyone know anything else about this session, so when she entered through the front door, with a bit of flair, as if she owned the store and was making an entrance in front of her minions, I stepped up and took both her hands in mine and kissed her on the cheek.
“Dora, I’m delighted that you’ve chosen our studio for your pictures. The girls are getting the studio ready. Let me take your bag for you. Watch your step on the stairs, honey,” I said.
She lifted her skirt a bit, even though it was plenty short to make the stairs. About halfway up the stairs, she turned and faced the store. Everyone was still staring at her. She smiled and waved, then hurried up the rest of the stairs.
“I’m so nervous!” she whispered to me. “You’re sure they’ll be okay with this?”
“I’ve talked to my staff and they are enthused.”
“Oh, my God! You brought your girlfriend!”
“Don’t worry. Elizabeth knows what’s happening, but she doesn’t know it’s you. She’s only met you once. She’ll help with makeup and hair. Anna will help with costume and posing. I’ll keep Theresa occupied elsewhere with setting and lights.”
“Okay. Let’s do it!”
“Guys, this is Dora Devine. We’re going to start with the usual simple portrait, then we’ll start on the Attic Allure shots. Do you need anything before we start, Dora?” I asked.
She just shook her head and I led her to the stool. She perched on it daintily. Theresa immediately adjusted lights and jumped back to me as I started taking pictures.
We were off and running.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
