Exposure
22
Sin City
YOU PUT TEN HORNY teen girls and a horny teen boy who are all ‘friendly’ with each other on a bus for two days with nothing else to do, and you can bet there was sex going on. We lasted until nightfall the first day before we actually started fucking. That was out of consideration for Chrystal, Elise, and the drivers. The back of the bus was essentially clothing optional—or just plain clothing missing.
Somehow, even the girls I wasn’t having sex with managed to spend some time cuddled naked with or on me. I wasn’t surprised that Judy wanted skin-to-skin time as she whispered to me all about her weekend with Janice and Pete. It did surprise me that Pris and Debbie wanted to cuddle up, as did Cassie. It took until our second night out before Theresa and Leanne wanted time with me instead of just with each other.
We spent from two Wednesday morning until eight, parked in a restaurant parking lot in St. George, Utah. We went into the restaurant at six, when it opened, and had breakfast, enjoying getting moving and stretching before our last leg of a little more than a hundred miles into Las Vegas. After fast and extremely friendly service, we headed on to our big adventure.
We spent that leg getting properly dressed for work and packing our shit so we could get off the bus. We arrived at the Sands just at ten in the morning. I suppose it would usually be too early to check into a hotel, but we had a huge suite reserved for the month and the staff were all over helping us get settled.
Unfortunately, as nice as the rooms and beds looked, we couldn’t just collapse and relax. We still had the trailer to unload. That meant getting back on the bus and heading to the theatre just south of the downtown area on Main Street.
We didn’t know the actual background of the theatre. The area was semi-industrial and the building seemed to have had a history that included being a warehouse and perhaps once a factory of some sort. It was mostly open space, but there were peripheral rooms for dressing, costumes, lighting maintenance and storage, and a couple of offices that we were locked out of.
Levi met us and was just jolly about welcoming us to Las Vegas. He was extremely pleased with the whole setup. I wasn’t sure why, until he opened huge garage doors behind the stage area. The place was packed with scenery and props. And it wasn’t all from this theatre. Levi had been tracking down old props and scenery from stage shows all over Vegas.
“Look at all this stuff!” I said. “Where do we put our stuff?”
“I kept a section clear for you. The bus can pull around and we can load through the back. We’d better get rolling or it will be too hot to even have the door open,” Levi said.
We got the bus and trailer moved to where we could create a brigade, handing things from one person to another into the theatre. The drivers definitely didn’t want to try backing the damn trailer up to the loading dock, which would have been at the wrong height anyway. It was already over ninety degrees and just heading higher. Before we had the trailer half unloaded, girls were in panties and bras or T-shirts and I was in my briefs as we handed things from the trailer up to the loading dock. It took nearly an hour. We said goodbye to the drivers, dove inside, and closed the loading doors.
That was only moderately better, but Levi had already scouted out where the ventilation system was and it started sucking air through the building. It was tolerable in half an hour and that was much better than the hundred degrees outside. It was like a blast furnace out there with wind gusts that nearly knocked us over.
The girls didn’t really put any clothes back on as they started sorting and storing our things in our new props closet. I got my enlarger set up in the improvised darkroom. Levi had sealed off one of the dressing rooms so it could be locked and a red light would appear outside the door when processing was going on inside. It had sinks and lots of counterspace. He’d hung blackout fabric over all the mirrors. It was a much bigger room than what I was used to for a darkroom. Four or five actors could comfortably dress in either of the dressing rooms.
The second dressing room would be used for costuming and makeup. Judy, Leanne, Patricia, and Ronda were getting that room whipped into shape with everything they’d decided we’d need for our models’ comfort. Pris and Theresa were assessing our lighting options and frequently called on Leanne to show them a specific theatre lighting convention that they weren’t familiar with. I didn’t think we’d need anywhere near the lights that were hung around the stage area, but we had our own lights as well that Pris was connecting to the control board.
Anna, Cassie, Beth, and Debbie were in the props closet inventorying and presetting interesting props for our first model on Thursday. Elise had Toni in a play area in what I understood was used as a green room, or a ready room for actors during a play. It was where we’d take breaks and have meals.
The stage itself was only a foot off the main floor. It wasn’t all that big. The theatre wouldn’t support more than a hundred or a hundred fifty in the audience, max. Once I got the darkroom set up and tested the lighting, I went out to set up my camera. That’s when I got the next surprise.
“Levi, what’s this?” I asked, knowing quite well what I was looking at, but not sure why it was here.
“That is a Linhof Super Technika 4x5 field camera. A little gift from a patron who feels she owes you something,” Levi said.
“Shit. Does that mean I’ve been paid for my part in a murder?” I said.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that. When she came in, she said that her late husband had been a devoted supporter of your art and collector of your photos, which she proposed to continue in his memory. However, she cannot become a part of the patron group because she is not a member of the club.”
“Boy, that really sucks, doesn’t it?”
“It does, but it worked out to your benefit. I’ll work with Anna on the cost of this box. It will belong to you, so you’ll have to count it as income. However, if it doesn’t work out for you, I’ll take it back in exchange for other equipment. She just asked what you needed most to expand your art. I knew you liked the experiments with the large format you did, so that’s what I told her. In the darkroom, you will also find all the new enlarger, lenses, and developing trays you need to process it. I thought it would be especially cool for you to be able to experiment with on all your new models this month.”
“This is going to be a really interesting month. We’re hoping to do some location work, too, if we can survive the heat.”
“That’s one reason I chose the field model instead of a monorail camera. This weighs quite a lot, but it is portable. And its tripod is very stable. You should try it out.”
I grinned at him. Nothing better. He handed me half a dozen loaded film holders.
“I need a model!” I called out.
Everyone came to attention, but Patricia ran out of the dressing room, stripping off her remaining clothes as she got to the stage. Judy ran out following her with a strip of shiny fabric and a ribbon for her hair. In two minutes, Theresa and Pris had lights focused on her and Debbie had moved an interesting feathered chair into place on which Patricia began posing.
I opened the back to look through the camera lens and compose my first picture under Levi’s watchful eye and direction. It was going to take a little work to get this put together, just for me to learn how to operate it. I jumped up to the stage to talk to Patricia as Beth and Cassie moved a backdrop into position behind her. My girls were all amazing.
“You jumped at this opportunity just so you could get cooler without your clothes, didn’t you?” I asked. I petted her hair and adjusted the drape of her scrap of satin. Of course, I spent some time just petting Patricia, too.
“A little. And I like posing for you. What do you want me to do for you?”
“New camera and it’s going to take longer to set up each picture. That means you’ll need to hold fairly still for a little longer than usual. Tell me if it gets to be too much, okay? Even the exposures will be a little longer because I’m shooting with very low-speed film. You need anything before we start?”
“Just a little kiss.”
I gladly gave her that and then positioned her for the first shot. I liked the way the girls had pulled together a set, costume, props, and lighting so quickly. I went back to the camera and started fussing with the focus and the bellows. Anna was already going over the receipts.
The hardest part initially was getting used to composing the picture upside down on the ground glass back of the camera. I finally decided I was ready and slid a film holder into the back, pulled the dark slide and called for Patricia to hold her pose. I pressed the trigger on the cable release and heard the lens close. Then I put the dark slide back in and took the film tray out of the camera.
“Now just flip the carrier around and insert it again,” Levi said. “This carries a negative on each side. Then you have to change carriers.”
Cool. I got Patricia into a new pose and took another picture. Then I removed the carrier and reached for the next carrier.
“Hey, Levi. What’s this about?” I asked, holding another film tray.
“Oh, I should have had you use that one first. This will let you test your compositions. It’s a Polaroid cartridge. You can put it in the camera and get a test shot in sixty seconds.”
“How cool. Patricia…”
I headed for my girlfriend-model and petted her into a new position, then shifted the camera and called for a change in light temperature. Then I got the composition set, put the Polaroid cartridge in, and took the picture. We were definitely going to have some fun with this camera. I figured I’d mostly be doing the portraits with this camera but I could see possibilities for some art shots, too.
The afternoon went pretty quickly and I looked around for Chrystal. She seemed to materialize out of nowhere when I looked for her. We discussed security and I moved the camera equipment all into the darkroom and locked the door. We’d be back in the morning for our first model.
We were all excited about being in Vegas and wanted to walk outside to see the lights after dark. But it was still hot and we were tired from the trip. I got the master suite in the hotel room and Patricia and Anna cuddled next to me in the king-size bed.
We made love together. I was happy to see that Anna and Patricia no longer shied away from touching each other while I was making love to one or the other. They weren’t exactly diddling each other, but they kissed and petted as they worked together to share me.
I was happily buried deep in Anna when my first orgasm claimed me and I drifted off to sleep still connected.
That wasn’t the end of our playtime. We just drifted in and out of sleep as much as we made love. I was going to like Las Vegas.
We were back at the studio by nine the next morning.
“How long have you been in Vegas, Dee?” I asked our model on Thursday morning. We all still felt tired and Chrystal had just brought in a coffee urn so we could make coffee in the nursery. I poured Dee a cup and we sat to talk before getting started. I bounced Toni on my knee. Dee was fascinated by her.
“My father was moved to Nellis—the Air Force Base out here—in 1966, the year I graduated. I came in as a rebellious eighteen-year-old forced to move schools for my last semester of high school,” she said.
“Ouch. It was hard enough for me, moving before my junior year. I imagine it was really tough for you,” I said.
“I was used to being uprooted. Dad was a career military man and had served a tour in Vietnam before he put in for transfer as a trainer. I’d lived in nine different places before we landed here,” she said.
“How did you get involved in show business?”
“Luck, mostly. The one consistent thing I had in my life was Mom keeping me in dance lessons wherever we lived. I was never going to rise to the top of a dance class because we wouldn’t be there long enough, but teachers kept teaching me for however long I stayed. So, when I saw an ad for dancers, I applied. The really lucky part was I chose one that was legit. Lots of places advertised for dancers. I found out later that some girls answered the ads and found they were really looking for strippers and some flat out for prostitutes. I managed to land in the back of a chorus line for a new show with a paycheck for dancing my ass off six nights a week.”
“I take it this business is really hard work.”
“I’ve been in it three years and have advanced some, but it’s good money and as long as I stay in shape and don’t get pregnant, I can keep working.”
“I can imagine either of those would make it hard to keep dancing. We’re not going to put you in a showgirl costume. In fact, I have in mind to start with a Southern Belle look for you. We’ll be doing some art photos and during the course of our morning there will be nudity. I think you were told that, right?”
“Right. I do topless dancing in the show, so I’m fine with that as long as we’re not shooting porn.”
“No porn. We have a rule against fucking in the studio and I never date models. Leanne, please get Dee ready with a nice fresh-faced look. Judy has a dress for you. Oh, make sure there’s no hard line between parts that are made up and parts that aren’t. We’ll be doing some full-length shots. Debbie, let’s use the plantation backdrop.”
“Oh, yeah. That one was marked Finian’s Rainbow. I know what you want.”
My crew went to work and I started setting up cameras. It was still fairly comfortable in the studio, but we got the big fans running to keep the air circulating. It hadn’t taken long to figure out that there was no way they could do live theatre in here in the summer. A hundred or one-fifty audience members would only increase the heat and they couldn’t run the ventilator system and be heard over it.
The dress Dee appeared in was off the shoulder and cinched tight below the breasts to the waist. She showed lots of nice cleavage. It had a hoop skirt that probably could have been made out of the plantation’s curtains. She wore white gloves and carried a parasol.
“You wanted me in something I’d be glad to take off, didn’t you,” she laughed. I smiled and nodded my agreement.
“We’re experimenting with a lot of different subjects and compositions while we’re here in Las Vegas. My crew and I have established a style, but we still have a lot of room to grow.”
I positioned her under the lights for a full-length shot and spent a moment arranging a curl hanging behind her ear.
“The agent showed us an album of pictures you’d taken. They were impressive enough to get most of us to sign up for sessions with you.”
“I’m going to give you a wonderful work of art for your trouble,” I said.
I got the first set finished and then had her hold one of the poses while I moved in with the Linhof camera for a costumed portrait. We brought a little bench so she could sit on it and I could come in close. The shallow depth of field on this would turn the plantation backdrop into a slight blur in the background. I was pleased.
“Now, Dee, I’m going to want to let the dress start to slip in this next series. We’ll go for something less demure and more sensual.” I unfastened the catch on the back of her dress and unzipped it. “Aren’t you glad we aren’t using real whalebone corsets in this costume?”
“I’ve worn them. I’ll count my blessings as you undress me.”
“Only a little at a time,” I said.
I got one arm out of the sleeve and had her hold the dress up, just above her nipple. She was seated on the bench and turned to my left. I adjusted the dress so you couldn’t actually see the zipper and had her turn her head to look seductively at me. The camera.
During the next few exposures, the dress slipped farther and farther down until she was topless with the dress pushed down to her waist. What I liked, though, was having her keep the gloves and parasol. I moved in for another seductive portrait with the Linhof.
I took the dress the rest of the way off and then called to Judy for white stockings and high heels. I had Debbie shift to one of our more abstract backgrounds and Theresa immediately began moving lights for a new mood and atmosphere.
I pulled Dee’s panties off before we got the stockings on. She was tightly trimmed. I assumed that was necessary for some of the abbreviated costumes she wore on stage. I petted her mound a couple of times just to keep the hair from being matted.
“You’re absolutely sure there is no fucking in the studio?” she whispered to me. “And that you don’t date models? You could have a date every night.”
“I already do,” I said. I glanced toward my assistants.
“All of them? Wow! I hope they don’t mind me enjoying myself.”
“They all love knowing a model is enjoying the attention. Now, I’m going to try something with you on one knee. Let’s tilt your head a little toward the parasol. There we go.”
We worked through the set and I picked her up to carry to the dressing room. When I set her down, she kissed me sincerely as I continued to pet her, then went to get dressed.
Friday was Independence Day. We didn’t have any models scheduled, but I intended to get some photos processed and printed. It seemed a little strange that the models didn’t get to choose what photos they wanted. Usually, Anna and Ronda or Cassie could work ahead and take a roll of film to process and proof. That way, the model would at least see proofs of a few of her pictures before she left. The two models Thursday were very happy with what they saw.
They didn’t, however, see any of the pictures from the 4x5 camera except the Polaroids that I shot. So far, I was the only one who could process the individual 4x5 negatives. Levi knew my fondness for it, so he’d supplied me with a stock of 4x5 x-ray negatives. Shooting at about 35 ASA, I was getting amazingly shallow depth of field and I loved the effect. But I hadn’t had time to print more than a couple yet, even as proofs. Another advantage of the x-ray film was that it was monochromatic instead of panchromatic, so I could develop the film under red light and not expose it to any harmful rays. That was helpful as I was getting used to the new tanks for processing.
No one else had to go to the studio Friday, and the girls were gung-ho to hit the pool. I cautioned them all about wearing Coppertone and not to stay in the sun too long. I did not want my sweet girls to get burned.
I was surprised when Chrystal stopped to pick me up and Anna walked out with me.
“I really need to get the schedule organized and our film and paper stock inventoried. Some of this is an accounting nightmare,” she said. “And you really shouldn’t be all by yourself in that big space. It’s too spooky.”
“I love you, too, Anna,” I said, giving her a kiss. “At least the dressing rooms and green room are air conditioned. We shouldn’t be sweating too much.”
“Don’t cool it too much,” she whispered. “I don’t plan to wear clothes.”
Chrystal took us over to the studio and hung around for a while to be sure we had everything we needed. She said she’d bring us lunch after she fed the rest of the crew, then left and locked the door. Of course, we could get out, but if we left the studio, we couldn’t get back in. It didn’t much concern me. We had a phone in the nursery, the darkroom, and the dressing room, so we could call her number if we needed anything.
Her number was ‘the office’ number. She wasn’t the only one working for Photosensitive Productions in Las Vegas. And since Vegas is a round-the-clock town, there was always someone at the office to answer the phone.
Anna and I went straight to the darkroom and got the air conditioner going. It was ‘only’ about 95 out when we got to the studio. Chrystal had given us the forecast of ‘over 105’ for the day. True to what she had said, Anna stripped bare as soon as we were in the darkroom. And then she got me in the same mode of dress.
That did slow us down on getting anything done. We had a comfortable sofa in the dressing room and before we started work, Anna and I stretched out to make love.
“Was this your intent in joining me today all along?” I asked as my cock parted her lower lips and slid smoothly into her pussy.
“Mmm. I thought it was a possibility, but you know, it wasn’t like I needed this. But you kissed me and I just couldn’t help myself,” she answered. “Kiss me some more, Nate.”
I kissed her a lot more. Everyplace I could reach. It was always such an amazement to me when I found myself in Anna. At one time, that had been just a fantasy. Then, she broke up with me and it turned into an impossibility. But we started going out again as seniors, even though I already had two girlfriends, then three, and then four. Still, Anna planned our prom night and managed to stretch it to two days. I still found her pussy to be something of a miracle performed on my cock.
“I love you, girlfriend,” I whispered as we moved together.
“Can I join you in your apartment in Chicago this fall?”
“Am I going to have an apartment?”
“I know Ronda has already sent an inquiry to a housing agent. I won’t be able to be with you all the time, like Ronda and Beth, but I can be in Chicago part of the time.”
“If you can be in Chicago, I want you in my bed,” I said, thrusting a little harder.
“Yes! Oh, yes. We might have to take turns. Remember, you have four girlfriends, and we all want our time with you. Patricia will be there part of the time, too.”
“I want you,” I husked. “I want you in my life and in my bed. I want you wrapped around my cock like you are now, so I can come and fill you full of my sperm. Like I’m about to now.”
“Yes! Come! I’m… coming!”
I stayed in her as long as my cock would cooperate, but before long, we got ourselves up and ready to work.
I could work with the x-ray film under red light and visually check to see when it was processed enough. Levi had set up a developing tank and I could hang all the negatives from a rack immersed in the solution. I could lift them out of the chemical bath and inspect them under the red light. Anna found that fascinating. She hugged me from behind and put kisses all over my back as I got the film holders clear of the developer and rinsed in the sink.
I did a contact sheet of the negatives. I could put eight negatives on a sheet of 10x16 paper and make a single proof sheet. We pulled the sheet out of the final fixative and rinsed it, then finally turned on the white light so we could see how successful I’d been on my first day with the big camera.
“This is good,” Anna said, pointing at one of Dee’s pictures. “And this one of her nude, and curled up on the bench looking back over her shoulder at you. I think she’ll love that one.”
“I think you’re right. I think I’ll make that one the first one I print for our new gallery wall.”
“Oh, good! Will you put a print of every model on the wall so it grows as our month progresses?”
“I think that’s a good idea. Dee told me the dancers had all been shown my portfolio and that was why they had signed up. But this will show Las Vegas models, and will include photos of dancers they know as the month progresses.”
“What can I do to help? I mean now. In the developing process,” Anna asked.
“Hmm. If we can work in the dark—I mean under red light—there’s no reason to slow down the process. I can print a photo or a test strip and dunk it in the developer. From there, you can deal with it, moving it to the stop bath, then to the fixer bath, then to rinse. I can keep printing and moving them to the developer until we get to the first rinse. Then we might have to double up because these are going to take longer to rinse well if I’m using uncoated stock. Then we can start the process over again.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Sounds tedious, but I’m happy to have you in the room with me and working with me. We can probably manage a kiss now and then,” I said.
“Oh, can we start with one?”
“Anna, you know that I would spend all my time kissing you and forget all about what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“The other girls would get awfully jealous. Just a little kiss.”
No matter what it made us want to do, we managed to start the process and get a rhythm going that was smooth and had only a few slip-ups that weren’t too serious. The worst part about having so many models in such a short period of time was that I would feel like we were in an assembly line to get the prints made. I needed to select and print ten 8x10s for each model, even if I only wanted one for our collection.
Nonetheless, we did turn out the prints and managed to talk a lot while we were working.
“Were her breasts natural?” Anna asked as we printed the second model’s photos. “They hardly moved when she changed positions. Impossibly firm for that size.”
“They were natural,” I said. “Yes, I tested them and even asked her about them. She said it was against show policy to have augmented breasts. They’d rather have a flat girl than an augmented one. She was simply lucky that they had very little sag.”
“They felt natural? Like mine?” Anna asked.
I took a moment to refresh my memory as to exactly what Anna’s breasts felt like. We almost missed the next shift from bath to bath.
“A little larger, but a similar squeezability.”
We went back to work, but something was bothering me and Anna was the perfect person to talk to.
“Anna, am I doing the right thing? I mean, the girls come in expecting that I’ll touch them because they’ve been told I would. But should I? If we have ten models a week, that’s a total of forty during the month. Forty pairs of breasts that I’ll have some contact with as I try to build an intimate connection with the model. It’s possible that half of those models will simply accept me stroking their pussies. All because they think that is the way we will create a work of art out of their photos.”
“Are you feeling guilty that so many young women are willing to let you molest them in the name of art?”
“Yes, in a way. It’s… because I don’t feel anything for them. I don’t mean they don’t turn me on. I’m nineteen years old and it would be silly for me to declare that feeling up a couple new girls each day didn’t make me hard. But… when I kiss you, caress your breasts, drag my fingers through your wet pussy… that does more than turn me on. It excites me that it is you that I’m touching. I don’t even remember the name of that second model we had yesterday. Still, I could tell you all about her breasts.”
“Honey, I know it’s different here. Here, they’ve been told to expect that you’ll touch them and they’ve agreed. When we did the Attic Allure shots in Tenbrook, even for the calendar, the girls came in hoping you’d touch them. Hoping you’d talk them out of their clothes and into an orgasm. Like you did me, all your crew, and all your girlfriends. We all hoped you would do that special thing for us that was because it was us. The difference here is that the girls expect you to touch them, but they have no hope for it.”
“I don’t know what to do. I think the producers who watch us zeroed in on that something special that created a connection between me and the model. I work at getting her excited, but we don’t simply have the spontaneous connection that I had with the models that yielded really great pieces of art in their photographs.”
“We go back to you and Lori or to you and Avery. There was something magical that happened when you worked together.”
“But that didn’t happen all at once. Lori connected in her first session, but did you know she was high when she came in? It was actually harder to connect in our second session when she wanted to so badly. Avery’s first session was formal, even though she took her top off. I never touched her. When we worked outside, I carried her and held her, rushed her to her car to get warm and after we’d taken the perfect shot, then we became physical and she invited me to touch her and kiss her.”
“Chris told me about the session with Amy that got you the State Fair prize. She told all of us. She was crying and so were we all when she described it. You connected in a different way. Maybe the problem is that because of the expectation of the producers, you are trying to connect in the same way with every model and you aren’t treating her like the human you connect with,” Anna said.
“You might want to consider psychology, love,” I laughed. “I think you are as good at this as Avery is.”
“We all have our moments. Elizabeth, Ronda, Patricia, and I love you. That’s our connection. That’s what makes us your counselors.”
“That is the last print. Let’s finish the rinse and think about making love again.”
Anna and I didn’t turn the light back on in the darkroom as the prints dried. We just left the red light on and went to the sofa to have a long, loving session, and then a bit of a nap in each other’s arms.
When we woke up and got dressed, we turned on the lights and took a look at our work, drying on glass plates. It was very good. Not what I called art, exactly, but good Attic Allure photos that the models would be proud of.
I opened the darkroom door to find men in the studio. They looked like they were installing something.
“Hey! What’s going on here?” I demanded. I was glad Anna and I had gotten dressed before simply walking out of the darkroom.
“Who are you?” a guy said in response. “This is a holiday. No one’s supposed to be here.”
“I’m the photographer who has this studio for the month. No one else is authorized to be here,” I said. “Anna, lock the door and call Chrystal.” She quickly stepped back inside the darkroom and I heard the door lock and saw the red light come on indicating the room was in use.
“Let’s not have a pissing contest,” another guy said. “We all seem to belong here. We’re sent by Photosensitive Productions to install a sound system.”
“We don’t need sound. I shoot still photos.”
“The guys who were observing yesterday said it was a waste of time unless they could hear what was going on,” the guy said. He wore a yellow hardhat which I assumed meant something since the other guys wore white.
“Where were they observing from? We never saw anyone in here yesterday.”
“We were instructed to install microphones that would pick up anything in the area of the stage and pipe it into the booth at the back of the room.” He pointed and I realized that there was a dark window in the wall at the back, which was apparently where the producer and writer hung out when they were watching me take pictures. The wall and everything back there was black, and I didn’t even notice the window the past two days.
“They didn’t say anything about miking us. Does that mean they’re going to record it?”
“Well, there’s recording equipment in the booth,” the guy said hesitantly.
“Nope. Ain’t gonna happen,” I said. “We have no agreement to be recorded and neither do the models. They can observe and listen and make all the notes they want, but if there is recording equipment in that booth, we won’t be working here.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, bud. I don’t make decisions about that kind of thing. My job is to install sound equipment. You’ll have to deal directly with the production company on whether they record anything.” He lowered his voice and moved closer to me. “I’d guess you want the video equipment taken out, too.”
Fuck! They were planning to video tape us? No way. But the guy was right. He was the wrong person to talk to about any of this.
I went to the darkroom and unlocked the door and went in, locking it behind me.
“We weren’t told anything about sound equipment being installed,” Anna said. “Nate won’t work if he’s being recorded.” She looked up at me and motioned me over to the phone. “Chrystal is trying to track down someone who knows what is happening. You want to talk to her?”
“I think you’re doing great, honey. They can listen in the studio, but no recording and no video. No one has given permission for that,” I said. I busied myself looking at the prints we’d pulled. I liked what I saw.
“Chrystal, Nate and I are ready to leave here and at the moment we feel kind of trapped in the darkroom. I understand you can’t find the producer right now. It’s a holiday. Just understand that no one on the crew will return to the studio until this is resolved. Can you at least come and get us out of here— Okay. We’re staying in the darkroom until you get here.”
She hung up, and I kissed her.
“She’ll be here in fifteen to twenty minutes. We don’t need to talk to the tech crew at all.”
“Gee. What’ll we do for fifteen or twenty minutes?”
When we finally got back to our room, all the girls were back from the pool and wherever they’d been shopping during the day. We got ready and went out for dinner, then to an outdoor show with a band and a couple of comedians and a singer. Then the entire strip lit up with fireworks. It was pretty cool.
I needed to use a restroom. There was a row of portable outhouses along the side of the open area where the festival was and I headed toward it. I was nearly to them when a guy stumbled out of one and straight into me. I thought he was drunk, but he straightened up quickly and grabbed my peace symbol.
“Fuckin’ communist!” he growled at me. “Fuckin’ coward is what you are.”
“Hey, man. I’m just headed to the bathroom,” I said, trying to pull my necklace out of his hand.
“You won’t need one when I’m done with you. You’re probably pissing yourself already.”
Then he fucking punched me in the stomach!
“Come on, peacenik coward. Take a swing at me.”
I tried to back up, but he still had hold of the peace symbol.
“Not gonna run away from this, ya pinko coward. You’re gonna fight me.”
This time he hit me in the face and I felt my lip split and start to bleed.
“I’m not gonna fight you, man. Now lay off and get lost!”
“You don’t think you’ll fight? That pacificist line is a bunch of bullshit. You’ll fight before I’m done with you.”
He swung at me again. I tried to duck, but he had me caught by the neck and still hit me in the ear.
“You think all your protests and peace songs make you something special? You’re scum!” This blow was to the ribs. I could feel my hands clench and willed them to stay at my side. “If you were a real man, you’d join the army and go to Vietnam. But you’re too much of a coward to be a real man.” He hit me in the chin. I tried to twist away from him, but the leather cord that held the peace symbol was wrapped in his left hand. He swung at me again and I partially blocked it with my arm.
“I’m not gonna fight you,” I repeated. “Beating up someone who won’t fight doesn’t make you a man. It just makes you a bully.”
“I’m gonna beat that crap out of you. You yellow-bellied draft dodger!” All the blows were coming in on my left side because he had my cord caught in his left hand. I used my right hand to try to wrest it away from him and my left to try to protect my face from any more blows. He hit me in the stomach again.
“You think that makes you brave to not fight back? You’re not man enough to go to Vietnam. Just not a man.” He hit again.
“Listen to me, you idiot!” I said. “My best friend died in Vietnam. His teenage widow is alone raising the baby he didn’t even know he’d fathered. I think about him every day and do my best to help his wife. She cries on his grave and tells her daughter what a brave man her father was. It doesn’t make a difference. He’s dead. Who’d even miss you if you went and didn’t come back?”
“Fuckin’ coward fuckin’ asshole shitbag fuckin’ draft dodger!”
He let go of the peace symbol so he could get both hands into action swinging at me. I was doubled up and he hit me on top of the head and knocked me down.
“Fight me! Fight me!” he screamed.
“I won’t fight you,” I said, scooting back. “Do yourself a favor and call an ambulance when you’re done. Nevada sends murderers to the gas chamber.”
Me being on the ground, the next thing he did was kick me in the nuts. Off to the side, I saw flashing red lights headed our way. Maybe the ambulance would get here in time.
“Fucker!” the guy said. He turned and ran off behind the toilets.
One thing was true. I didn’t need the toilet anymore.
I woke up in the hospital. Elizabeth and Patricia were with me. They’d come looking for me when I didn’t come back to join them and someone said a guy had been beaten up and taken to the hospital. It didn’t take long for Chrystal to find out where I was. She dropped all the other girls off at the Sands and brought Patricia and Beth to me.
“You’re alive!” Patricia said. “I can’t believe you got beat up. Don’t go off without us ever again!”
“You couldn’t have helped,” I moaned. A doctor and a nurse came into the room and checked my heart and breathing. He looked into my eyes with a light and examined the cuts and bruises.
“We’ll need to stitch this lip and I’ll move your teeth back into position. You should see a dentist,” he said. “You shouldn’t be out fighting,” he added unnecessarily.
“I wasn’t fighting. I was attacked by a crazy man.”
“And where is this crazy man? Did you injure him?”
“I wasn’t fighting,” I repeated, gritting my teeth, and regretting it. “I was just headed for the toilets and he grabbed hold of me and started hitting me.”
“And you didn’t fight back?”
“I don’t fight. Period.”
“Why didn’t you run away?”
“He grabbed hold of my necklace and held me while he hit me and tried to make me fight him.”
“Oh. One of these. That explains it.” He looked at the peace symbol still lying on my chest. “You hippies shouldn’t flaunt yourselves in public. People don’t like rioters and people who don’t support the military.”
“I don’t riot. I don’t fight. And I’m not a hippie. I’m a photographer.”
“Walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, must be a duck.”
“Christ! Ow!”
“Hold still while I finish stitching. Whoever beat you up should have finished the job.” He jabbed a needle in me again, tied the thread, and the nurse swabbed me with iodine.
“You’ll be sore for a few days. I don’t detect any broken bones or sign of concussion. We’ll give you a couple of painkillers to get through the night. Now I have patients to see.”
He turned and left. The nurse took care of cleaning up the rest of my face and bandaging the cut.
“Dr. Schneider doesn’t have much patience when it comes to hippies. His son is in Vietnam,” the nurse said.
“My husband died there,” Patricia growled at the nurse. “Tell the doctor to go fuck himself.”
When I woke up in the morning, there was a doctor in our suite. He examined me and made sure the dressings were clean and that nothing else was bleeding. He gave me a shot of penicillin and said that should fight any latent infection. He had a list of things I shouldn’t do half a mile long.
He was much nicer than the doctor in the hospital, but kept wanting to address all his comments to Elise or Chrystal instead of me. He was desperately looking for the adult in our group. As soon as he was gone, I was brought a bowl of soup and was thankful I didn’t have to chew anything.
About ten o’clock, there was a disturbance in the common area of the suite.
“And you didn’t even investigate? What kind of a police force are you that someone gets beaten in a public venue and you don’t even investigate?” a man’s voice yelled.
“We have actual crimes to investigate!” a second guy yelled back.
“Oh? What do you call an actual crime? Did someone run a red light?”
The door of my bedroom opened and Elizabeth led her father and a police officer into the room. They were followed by Chrystal and Don Garfield from Photosensitive Productions. Jordan came directly to my bedside.
“How are you doing, son?” he asked. “Lisbet called me in the middle of the night and told me what happened. I got out here on the first flight and went straight to the police. I can’t believe your production company wasn’t all over this. This is Officer Lindstrom. He’s going find the mugger who did this to you.”
“I don’t know that we’ll find anyone,” Lindstrom said, “but I’ll start by taking a statement. This kind of thing doesn’t happen often, but usually it involves a big winner at one of the casinos. Did you win anything last night?”
The officer wasn’t quite as dismissive as the doctor had been the night before, but he wasn’t hopeful about finding my assailant. Especially since I wasn’t sure I could even identify him. He, too, seemed to think that anyone with a beard and long hair, wearing a peace symbol was just asking for it.
“I’m sorry you came all the way out here for nothing, Jordan,” I said. “I don’t think anyone is going to do anything.”
“Well, I made some calls after Lisbet called me last night. Woke some people up. But they agreed that I should be the one who came out here since I could deal with the production company without actually having anything invested—except my daughter and her boyfriend,” Jordan laughed. “I’m just glad it’s no worse than it is. We might not get a solution or an arrest, but we’ll get some goddamned action.”
“Thank you. I think I’m going to sleep for a while now. I’m really tired.”
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
