Over Exposure
33
Passion
“Sandra” by Egor Mayer, ID226547899 licensed from Shutterstock.com.
I MANAGED to make my Monday morning seminar with Professor Hyatt, but Dr. Hernandez had already canceled our afternoon class in US Foreign Policy. We were all heading over to take the Civil Service Exam at the Dirksen Federal Building. It was only over at Dearborn and Adams, so Ronda and I walked over together, grabbing a sandwich and cup of coffee on the way.
The test took about two hours and I was surprised to find it wasn’t all that different from taking the SAT when I was in high school. There was a section on spelling, on grammar, on text comprehension, and on basic math. There were a few questions on government organization, but no more on that topic than on any other. When we left, I felt like I did pretty well on the test. Ronda just shrugged. She agreed that after looking forward to the test for three years and studying for it, the test itself was a bit of a letdown.
We got home in plenty of time to have dinner ready when Patricia and Toni got home.
It seemed like the rest of the week was spent on the phone. It’s a funny thing. I like to talk to my girlfriends, but other than that, I kind of hate the telephone. Still, when the mayor of Tenbrook called, I felt like I needed to talk to him.
“Nate, we wanted to let you know that the town is behind you and we’d like you to hold your press conference here on Monday morning. We’ll make the high school gym available so you have plenty of room.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lechleiter. It’s nice that you are still our village mayor.”
“Oh, no one else wants the job. At times like this it’s mostly a headache, but people love that the film company is coming back to town.”
“I’m glad they are doing a sequel to Over Exposure. It left some open issues to be dealt with.”
“Yes. Well, we all hope he gets caught this time. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
That was one call. Of course, I had a couple of conversations with Tor Berg. He’d established contact with the members of the lawsuit against Warren and then with both the newspaper and the television station. They’d all agreed to be at the conference Monday.
“Nate, Adrienne is calling,” Ronda called from the kitchen on Wednesday.
“Ah, my pet,” I said when I picked up the phone. “How are you doing?”
“I miss you so much,” she said. “I’ll be there Friday.”
“There? You mean here? In Chicago?”
“Yes. I’m traveling with the crew.”
“What crew?”
“I ran the situation by Frank and the writers after I talked to our sponsor. They got right on top of it. We’re bringing a small film crew to Tenbrook including Bert and Brent. You remember Brent. He’s the new writer working with Bert.”
“You mean they haven’t killed each other yet?” I laughed. Bert had not been happy to have another writer assigned to his movie.
“Getting along surprisingly well,” Adrienne said. “Anyway, the plan is to film your press conference on Monday, and even to participate in it. It’s funny that television stations as far as Dubuque and Fulton have expressed an interest in the event since a Hollywood film crew will be there.”
“We’d better reserve rooms in the hotel right away. It sounds like it will be full,” I said.
“Your room is already reserved. Um… So is mine, if you permit me to stay so close,” Adrienne whispered.
“Permit you? Of course. I’m hoping you’ll spend some of your time in my room.”
“As much as we can manage, but I’ll stay in Tenbrook all week. I understand it is Ronda’s spring break and she might need company.”
“Oh, my. I think she is getting turned on already,” I laughed. “I will see you Friday.”
I went into the studio on Thursday after my portraiture class. I finally had an idea for my self-portrait and wanted to test what it would look like to shoot Ektachrome under red light. I thought Kodachrome might be a better choice because of its red saturation, but I also wanted to shoot this on the Linhof and I couldn’t get Kodachrome for it.
“Nate,” Cassie said when I got there, “I know you plan to leave for the weekend, but we got a request for a sitting on Saturday morning. She said it was urgent to have before you leave for Tenbrook and to tell you it was Sandra Gottschalk.”
Oh, shit! I’d been taking photos of Sandra since the day before her fifteenth birthday. Photos of a minor. I never thought about that because I didn’t keep any of the photos or negatives from our shoots. It was her personal project of herself and her growth over the years. Our last session had been in September when she was on her way to college.
Since I neither possessed or distributed the photos, I wondered if that was even applicable to the charge Warren was waving around. I suppose I took the photos—something I was sincerely regretting at this moment.
I just nodded my approval to Cassie and went on to the darkroom to run my experiments.
I had another project I wanted to test out. I wasn’t sure yet if I wanted to include color prints in my musician exhibition. But when I went over the photos from the recent sessions, the best photo of the flautist Robyn was definitely the last color transparency I took of her. The process for converting this to a black and white image seemed relatively straightforward, but I’d never tried it before.
I set up in the darkroom with the color 4x5 transparency and a 4x5 unexposed black and white sheet of film. I made a contact print and sent it straight through my usual photo process. The most difficult part of the process was simply setting it up. The panchromatic black and white film couldn’t be exposed to red light in the darkroom, so I had to work in the dark after I’d assembled my materials.
After a couple of tries, I decided to try one with x-ray film, which was monochromatic. After I’d created three negatives and gotten them processed, I started printing tests of the new negatives on regular RC paper.
I got one of the negatives under the slide upside down and the print was backwards. The other one yielded a very good rendition of the photo in black and white.
The x-ray film was easiest to work with because I could work under red light with it. But with all the red tones coming out solid black, I wasn’t too enthused about it. I decided the correctly exposed black and white negative was the best of the lot and I just needed to work on exposure of the negative to get the best results. I decided I could probably do a test strip on the negative in much the same way I did for printing.
I have to say that I wasted a dozen sheets of film and even more paper, but I finally got a print I liked. I would need to try it again with the photo of the cellist before I finally decided if I would include the color prints as part of my exhibition or convert them to black and white.
“We need Hollywood Nate,” Adrienne said when she arrived on Friday. “Sorry, master, I’m speaking on behalf of our sponsor.”
“I figured I needed a shave and a haircut,” I laughed.
“Not too short. You need to look hip, just not ragged. I think clean shaved would be good, though.”
“Okay. We can start at the barbershop on the way to the apartment. Ronda won’t be off for a couple of hours yet. You can instruct the barber as to what you want.”
“Hair dresser. We’ll never get what we want from a barber.”
“Okay. Um… I wonder where Ronda gets her hair done.”
“Here,” Adrienne said, handing me an address. I knew the area okay and it was a kind of old shopping area. “I talked to Ronda and made us an appointment.”
“You are so efficient. Are they making you do stuff for the movie?”
“No, master. I am working only for you and our sponsor.”
“Does he have instructions as to what I’m supposed to say?”
“No. He does not want to interfere with your message, but he wanted me to make sure you’ll be listened to. If you want to rehearse this weekend, I’ll be happy to listen, but I am not your speech-writer.”
“I almost wish you were. It’s a real headache.”
“Everyone has confidence in you,” she said. “Have you noticed that no one is directing what you say? Your village council trusts you to message things correctly. They are excited to have the film crew here this weekend. And we may be filmed together before the conference on Monday. It would be good for you to act just as you always do.”
“And do you intend to wear your collar, Fifi?” I asked as we parked in front of the Adair Beauty School. Adrienne had been wearing the collar ever since I picked her up.
“Master, if you wish to parade me naked in front of the cameras with nothing but my collar on, I am yours to command. It might make the wrong kind of statement, though.”
“I don’t intend to make any big statements about my personal life. Anna, Patricia, and Ronda will be with us. Us, Adrienne. I expect you to stand with my family, but there will be no introductions or mentions of any of you.”
“I am honored, master.”
We went into the beauty school and Adrienne announced us to the receptionist. I was immediately surrounded by a flock of cute young things, and a couple of older women and a man I took to be instructors. My hair and beard were immediately washed under the watchful supervision of the instructors who were apparently giving a complete makeover course on me.
Electric clippers made quick work of my beard down to stubble, and then one of the women showed a picture of what she had in mind. It was a just below the ear style and it looked great on the model in the photo. I wasn’t sure what it would do for me. It didn’t take too long and she yielded to the guy. I was in for a treat I’d never experienced before. He wrapped a hot towel around my face and set two girls to clipping and manicuring my hands.
When he judged the beard to be satisfactorily softened, he lathered me up and used a straight razor to shave me. I think I might not have breathed the entire time he was shaving my throat. By the time he was finished, the girls on my hands were finished and I found my feet were soaking in a nice tub of hot water. I didn’t think the guy was going to shave my feet, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise when two more students bent to the task of clipping and filing my toenails.
While they were busy down below, the woman who did my haircut went back to work, moistening and brushing my hair, then using a blow dryer to style it.
“I won’t be able to sleep on this all weekend,” I joked when I saw it.
“Don’t worry, love. I’ll make sure you are styled and ready for Monday morning,” Adrienne said.
I smiled at her and paid the ridiculously low figure of $18 for all this treatment. I left two twenties and instructions that it was to be split up among all those who worked on me. As we were leaving, I heard squeals from the salon as the money was distributed.
We got to the apartment about the time Anna got in from running some errands. Patricia and Toni were packed with their things by the door.
“Aunt Addie!” Toni squealed when she saw Adrienne and immediately jumped to get a big hug.
“Adrienne, where did you pick up this handsome guy?” Patricia asked. “Do we get to keep him?”
“Yes, Miss Patricia, but I must warn you, he is very high maintenance.”
“We can handle that,” Anna said.
I laughed and hugged my girlfriends. As soon as Ronda got home, they got things packed up. Ronda was on her spring break and intended to spend it all in Tenbrook. Anna was also on break, but she wouldn’t join the others until I drove down on Saturday. Ronda, Patricia, Adrienne, and Toni were headed to Tenbrook this afternoon. I kissed each of them sincerely and they got in Patricia’s car and drove off.
Anna and I decided to go out for a nice romantic meal together. Honestly, I think we both considered the apartment to be too quiet to just hang around in with our lovers absent. We just sat in the booth we were shown to and held hands, whispering together about what would come up this weekend and Monday.
“I talked to my father this morning,” Anna said. “He wanted to know if I had any sexual relations with you before I turned seventeen.”
“That’s kind of personal to be probing for. Um… we broke up a couple of weeks before your seventeenth birthday and hadn’t even kissed.”
“I told him that. He says that one of the things Warren has been touting in his campaign for morality is that the age of consent in Illinois is seventeen.”
“What? When did that happen? My entire first year in Tenbrook I took pictures of sixteen-year-olds and got signed releases from them under the concept that they were old enough to consent to that.”
“I know. I spent the morning in the law library at the University. They were very helpful. Illinois got a new constitution ratified by the voters on December 15, 1970. It went into effect on July 1, 1971.”
“That’s just last year. Does it say the age of consent is 17?”
“No. That was supporting legislation pushed through this past fall with a whole bunch of other things they were trying to update to match the new constitution. They had to reaffirm the right to vote at 18, too.”
“All right. So, what does it mean, really. I haven’t taken pictures of anyone under seventeen since I got to college.”
“Good, but it means anything he says about that in relation to you is irrelevant. When you did take photos of girls under seventeen, the age of consent was sixteen. And you were only seventeen, so it was probably irrelevant anyway. Besides, you never showed or distributed any photos of girls under eighteen, even if they asked you to take them. Dad says that you should bring up the age of consent law in your press conference.”
“Okay. Thanks for doing all that research for me.”
“I am not a legal advisor to you,” she intoned in a flat voice like a disclaimer on TV. “Your mileage may vary.”
“Nate! Thank you for coming in,” Sandra said, rushing to me in the studio. I’d turned down Anna’s offer to help. I had no difficulty having Sandra in the studio now, but I wanted privacy to find out what she wanted. I had visions of her blackmailing me.
She was nineteen years old now and a freshman at Kent State in Ohio. After the horrendous events my sophomore year in college, I questioned why anyone would go to Kent State, but Sandra had visited me last September on her way to school and told me Kent State offered undergraduate, graduate, and doctoral degrees in Human Development. She was definitely pursuing her dream.
I hugged her and looked hard at her. Would she try to extort money from me to keep secret our sessions when she was fourteen?
“What’s happening, Sandra? You know I’ll always make time for you, but this is a little surprising,” I said.
“Let’s sit, Nate. It’s about my parents.”
“Are they okay?”
“Physically, fine. Mentally, they’re off their rockers.”
“Okay. Tell me about it,” I said.
“When Pam left for college, they never once went into her room. Everything was exactly the way Pam left it until the day she arrived last summer to clear out everything she owned and move in with her new husband. Man, I’m glad that’s over and she finally got the guy to marry her,” Sandra said. She made a motion outlining a pregnant stomach in front of her.
“It was a bit of a surprise to get the wedding announcement. I sent her a copper kettle we used in one of her early photo shoots,” I said.
“She thought that was crazy funny. Anyway, I expected they’d treat my room the same way they treated Pam’s and I didn’t worry about having only what I needed with me at college,” Sandra continued. “They didn’t. As soon as word got out that the old constable guy was running for sheriff and arrest warrants were issued for Dr. May and Miss Ludwig, they went into my room and turned it upside down to see if I had gotten birth control from Dr. May. I hadn’t, by the way. Don’t ask me how I’ve done it, but I’m still technically a virgin. So, if you fuck me now, you’ll have to use a condom.”
“You know that’s not going to happen,” I said. “What did they find?” I had a bad feeling about this.
“Someday,” she smiled, then continued. “They found my album of developmental photographs. It’s pretty obvious when I switched from the old Polaroid to having my pictures done in the studio, and they assumed the first set was before I was fifteen. It was, you know, but only by a day. They took the album to former Constable Warren as evidence that I’d been corrupted by you. They were always big supporters of the constable and were among the few who voted against having him removed.”
“Oh, shit! That means they’ve got your record of our photo sessions together.”
“Not exactly. They have the photographs, but I kept my journals with me at college. And even if they got hold of the journals, I never talk about the photography sessions. I was recording my feelings and reporting on my development.”
“But I obviously took the photos. They can convict me of child pornography,” I sighed. “Maybe I won’t be coming back from Canada next week after all.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Sandra said. “Over the past five years, we’ve had sixteen photo sessions. I pretty much know what is involved. Today, you are going to give me the instructions I need to accompany my experience. I want exact instruction on how to take, process, and print self-photos with your high-quality camera.”
“Self?”
“If I was tested, I would want to come into your studio, set up your camera, take my own photos, process them, and print them. All anyone ever needs to know is that I paid you for your studio and camera time, and instruction on how to process the film and make my simple prints.”
“Sandra, why would you do this?” I asked.
“I put you in jeopardy, Nate. I will do my part to get you out of it. Have you ever done anything like this with anyone else who was underage?”
“No.”
“Good. Then it shouldn’t be a wasted effort.” She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Would you like to undress me so we can get started?”
It took us a major part of the morning. Sandra had observed the process, as she said, sixteen times over the past five years, but she’d been focused on her own experiences and what she felt. Fortunately, she was sharp and quick to pick up on all the techniques, which were pretty straight-forward. We had done the same thing every time she’d come to the studio.
For me, the setups were automatic, and I was surprised to find that Sandra was a natural at setting the light and getting the focus correct. The trickiest part was operating the self-timer and getting the prints made. She’d gone through all the steps of processing the film and developing the prints. If I had the chemicals mixed for her, there was no problem in her doing all the rest of the process by herself.
Of course, she didn’t do it all by herself. She did all the steps, but I was with her to be sure she understood and did it correctly. With her naked. Well, that had been an unspoken part of our relationship since the first session. When Sandra took her clothes off, she kept them off until it was time for her to leave. None of the film or prints we’d made ever stayed with me. It had all been taken by Sandra until the print I did of her in front of the seashore backdrop.
And over the years, we had become freer about how close we were and how much we touched. It was pretty much a sure bet that Sandra at least—and usually I—would have an orgasm or several. Her body was svelte. She had not developed as heavily on top as her sister and, in my opinion, that made her even more beautiful.
I was amazed that she was still a virgin.
“I’m still saving it for you,” she giggled. “One day. The thing is, I’m not in that big a hurry. Maybe studying the subject has helped slow the drive to participate. But right now, you can keep doing what you’re doing with your fingers. I love to come with you.”
“Don’t withhold your love when the right guy comes along because you have a fantasy about me,” I said as I continued to manipulate her little button.
“I won’t. But I do like our time together. It’s the only time I ever really feel safe with a boy. I know you’ll never do anything I don’t want you to, and you’ll put on the brakes when I’m being too free. Like you did with my sister.”
“I’m still not sure why you are doing any of this.”
“You are going to Tenbrook to have a press conference on Monday. I found out about it through a friend who said all the seniors at the high school would be in attendance. When you are asked about taking photos of an underaged woman—which you will be—you will say, ‘Sandra Gottschalk came to me and asked me to teach her how to take high quality photos of herself for a project on human female development she was working on. I taught her and loaned her my equipment and darkroom for her project. She has taken her own photos and used my darkroom where she felt safe developing them.’ You will never ever say anything about having taken my photo yourself. If someone asks you more specifically, answer with exactly the same words. There is not a lie in anything you are saying. You taught me to use your equipment and I have taken my own photos. This is as important to me as it is to you, Nate. Memorize the words and say them exactly the same way every time.”
“What do you want for all this?” I asked. I just had a hard time believing that Sandra was trying to protect me.
“This week is my spring break and I’m going back to Tenbrook. I’m going to demand that my parents get my photos back and deliver them to me. If they refuse, I will go in front of the cameras as soon as you’ve made your statement and accuse them of trafficking in child pornography and child abuse. I’ll also accuse Warren of possession of child pornography. He has no right to the photos. He is not an officer of the court nor does he hold any elected position that would entitle him to evidence. That is a federal crime and will be out of the hands of his support group in Hunter County.”
“Sandra, that’s amazing, but I hope you will not need to make any public statements.”
“I doubt I will. I have many things moving in my favor. In the first place, Pam caught our parents taking photos of us when we were naked before either of us was sixteen. That amounts to child abuse, production of child pornography, possession, and distribution. We were clever little kids back then. Well, Pam especially. She managed to capture photos of our father peeking in on us with his camera. She plans to come to Tenbrook this weekend and back my claims.”
“You’re pretty amazing, Sandra.”
“I also have documentation and affidavits from three of my professors supporting my claim that I am pursuing a course in the study of human female development and am further ahead in my study than most people in graduate school because of my early interest in the subject. I’m going to raise holy hell until I have everything that belongs to me back in my possession.”
She took the photos of her latest session with her when she left, after one more long and deep kiss.
“Did you get your… um… client taken care of this morning?” Anna asked.
“Yes, love. I’m feeling like I’m ready for our examination in Tenbrook. My only question is whether I should be doing any of this stuff. If it wasn’t the day before the primary election, I’d probably put it off until he tried to get charges pressed. But it’s better by far to make sure he isn’t elected.”
“Okay, lover. Let’s hit the road.”
It wasn’t a peaceful trip to Tenbrook. It seemed people were waiting to meet me. As soon as the VW parked in front of the hotel, an unusual welcoming committee approached me. Lori, Pam, and Avery stepped out of the bar and grill to give me a hug. Pam, indeed, had a big belly. She hadn’t waited long to get pregnant after she tied the knot the past June.
“You guys look great! How are you doing?” I asked.
“You should know about me,” Lori laughed. “We did a session for Diamonds Are Us in November.”
“And it was a good one. I loved the photo of the diamond brooch resting on your navel,” I laughed.
“Well, the news is that Stoney and I plan to marry in June,” she said.
“That’s wonderful!”
“And I don’t know how you could miss what I’ve been up to,” Pam laughed, petting her round belly. “God! I love being married to Lawson. He makes the world go round.”
“Congratulations. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for the wedding, but I was already at my studio in Canada for the summer and working my tail off.”
“Not to worry. I loved that little copper kettle you sent. I had to tell Lawson the whole story behind it and show him the pictures,” Pam said.
“Avery,” I said, greeting the tallest and probably smartest of the three former cheerleaders. “What’s up?”
Avery’s answer was to catch me in a hug and plant a deep kiss on me that Lori, Pam, and Anna shielded from the public view as well as they could.
“Perhaps we could arrange a time tomorrow to do an outdoor photoshoot,” she whispered.
“Wow! You want to do that?”
“Yes. You never came to Berkeley to take my pictures while I was in undergrad school. Now that I’m in grad school, I want another photo.”
“I’m sure we can get something going.” I was glad I’d packed my camera bags with us. I’d gotten so used to having them prepared in England that I seldom went anywhere in the bus without the tripod bag and the camera case. “Why are you all here? Is there a cheerleader reunion?”
“Oh! What a good idea,” Pam said. “Let’s see who else we can scare up.”
“We’re here for you, silly,” Lori said. “We were among your first models and some of our photos won awards. We aren’t going to sit idly by while a racist bigot tries to hurt our favorite photographer.”
“Thank you. I mean that. I have no idea what you could do, but I’m very happy to have you here.”
“After all the people you helped, including us, we could scarcely do less,” Avery said.
We went into the grill for lunch and found others who had arrived to wish me luck. Among them was my old friend Jon and his new wife, Lisa.
“We found out Warren got a copy of our 69ers calendar,” he said. “He thinks it’s evidence of some sort that you were corrupting both boys and girls in Tenbrook.”
“Oh, that’s great. I didn’t really have anything to do with the calendar itself. I love my copy of it, though. I thought all the copies were closely held. How’d he get hold of one?” I asked.
“We’re assuming a parent who didn’t like our project gave their kid’s copy to him. Unfortunately, we don’t know who. We weren’t able to get hold of all the members of our class, but we think we have enough,” Lisa said. She pushed a piece of paper over to me. “We wrote this statement up and it was signed by thirty-one members of our graduating class. Like I said, we couldn’t get hold of all of them. It says that the calendar project was our idea and our project. You took pictures at our request but had nothing to do with the production or distribution of the calendars. And we were all at least seventeen years old when we had our portraits made.”
“That’s really great, guys. Thank you.”
It was really moving and I might have had a tear in my eye when I noticed the camera running in the corner of the café with Adrienne standing beside the cameraman. I excused myself and went to check in to my room.
“Is our sponsor okay with this?” I asked Adrienne as I read over the release she’d asked me to sign.
“Yes. It was his idea and Frank jumped all over it. I was willing to be the model, but then we found Avery. She was more than willing to be the model and signed the release immediately.”
“And I’m just supposed to treat her like any model and take pictures? While they film us?”
“We believe the style will stand on its own once we release the film to news outlets. We won’t be showing any explicit material, but we will also show the signed affidavits from the calendar group and the stack of releases and receipts your crew photocopied,” Adrienne said.
“You really have an important role in all this,” I smiled. “I don’t know whether to reward you or punish you.”
“Both if you like, master. I am yours to do with as you please.”
“Why are you taking charge of all this for the production company?”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to direct,” she giggled with the cliché Hollywood line. Even out of work actors waiting tables would confide that they were waiting for their opportunity to direct. I’d seen a homeless guy on a streetcorner in LA with a sign that said ‘Out of work director. Please help!’
I signed the release and then focused my attention on getting Adrienne naked and teasing her until she exploded.
Sunday afternoon, I took Adrienne, Lori, Pam, and Avery out to Jon’s family farm to trek out to the river at Jon’s favorite swimming and fishing hole. The film crew knew the location from their shot a few years ago of Jon and Lisa skinny dipping there. I thought it was way too cold for that in the middle of March with the temperature barely above fifty. Spring equinox was the next morning. At least there was no snow on the ground.
Lori functioned as my assistant, helping to schlep the equipment out to the river where we met the film crew, already set up. We were fairly sheltered here, so the wind, which had picked up considerably this afternoon, didn’t affect us too much. I got a space set up for Avery to wait with a rug on the ground and a blanket around her. She was wearing a track suit and had told me there wasn’t anything under it. The rest of us wore jackets. Pam designated herself to ‘take care’ of Avery, meaning mostly to check her makeup and to stand there talking to her while I got set up and determined where I’d have her posing.
I chose the location I wanted. There was a fallen log with a branch that stuck up in the air next to the water. I looked for the composition and felt I had it right. The film crew adjusted their location and started recording.
“Okay, Avery. We have time, so we’re going to do a few positioning shots and get used to working with each other again.”
“You’ve got me,” she responded. “Where do you want me?”
I held her hand as I led her to the water’s edge and walked her through a number of poses while I took photos on the Hasselblad. I’d handed Lori the Nikon once the Hasselblad and the Linhof were set up and I heard her clicking an occasional picture as we got into position. I had Avery lean out with one hand on the upright limb to stabilize her, then kick one foot out behind her.
“That’s the shot we’ll want to get to,” I said as I took her back to the rug. “Are you ready?”
“A little nervous. I don’t usually dance naked in front of a camera—or three.”
“I have the only camera that counts,” I assured her. I pulled the blanket around her shoulders and then began removing her shoes. Then her pants. Finally, Pam held the blanket around her while I unzipped the sweatshirt and pulled it off her arms. “Just as beautiful as when you were eighteen,” I whispered. “Ready?”
“Almost.” She held out her hand and Lori put a strip of blue veil material in it. “There. I just needed a little something familiar to work with,” she said.
In our prize-winning photo of Avery under the streetlamp, we had used a piece of blue gauze for her to dance with. It gave the illusion that she was covered, while still showing every detail of her lean body beneath it.
I picked her up and carried her to the position. As soon as I set her down, she began moving in her little improvised dance, letting the fabric flare out behind her and drape over her. Occasionally, I called out to hold it there and she came to a stop, only to start moving again as soon as I gave the signal.
“Ready for the final pose, Avery,” I said as I checked on her again.
“I’m ready now. I’ve almost warmed up.”
I stroked her arms and back, smoothing out any goosebumps.
“Still coaxing the best out of your models,” she giggled. “I’m in your hands.”
I got her in position and rushed back to the Linhof. The first shot was good. I was sure we’d get a better one once she moved and the position became hers and not mine. Her first move was to let go of the branch and kick her foot forward, dragging a bit of the fabric with it. It looked like wind swirling around her. I took a second picture and switched film carriers in the camera. She hit two more dramatic positions and I got pictures of each. I was ready for the sixth shot on the Linhof and thought this could be it.
“Make our position your own,” I said. “Extend.”
She swept into a one-foot position on tiptoe and the other foot extended far behind her. I was ready and when she let go of the limb to sweep the fabric up in the air, she looked like an angel taking flight. I snapped the picture.
Before I could holler that it was over, Avery screamed. She lost her balance and teetered toward the cold river. I started moving and when she hit the water, I was only a step away. I didn’t hesitate. I waded in and picked her up out of the water in my arms and rushed to the rug.
“Blanket!” I yelled.
Pam was right there and draped the blanket over Avery as I continued moving toward the microbus. I dove into the back, wrapping the blanket securely around Avery as I held her in my lap. I rubbed her dry as her lips found mine and she probed my mouth deeply with her tongue.
“My hero,” she breathed.
Lori grabbed my keys from me and started the bus to get what little heat it would produce flowing into the back. Then she ran back to help Pam and Adrienne pack up my equipment and get Avery’s clothes and the rug. Avery pulled my hand beneath the blanket and guided it to her breast as we continued to kiss.
Adrienne loaded my camera gear behind me, then Lori gave me Avery’s clothes. The two girls got in the front of the bus with Pam between them and Lori drove away from the farm. Avery and I continued to kiss and pet. I didn’t actually get her into her track suit until we were back in town and parked behind the hotel.
The gym was already full when I got there Monday morning. The only time I’d seen it this full was at graduation. The tarps were down on the basketball court and row after row of folding chairs were set up. The balcony bleachers were full as well—mostly of students and parents. I recognized a lot of people. There were three television cameras set up and the film camera crew.
“The front row is newspaper and television people,” Adrienne whispered to me. “That’s where the questions will come from. Mayor Lechleiter will act as host. The people on stage are all people who have said they are here to back you.”
I looked out from the stage wing and spotted my girlfriends, the cheerleaders, various models, and others I recognized. I was shocked to find Jordan and Nadia Marsh in the audience, as well as Patricia’s and Tony’s parents, Dr. May, and Miss Ludwig. Miss Sullivan wasn’t the only teacher on the stage, but she didn’t look like she ever did in class. She looked hot.
And in the back were two guys I knew only as Dorn and Laughlin, my patrons. They were almost completely behind the curtain and shielded by other people in front of them. Sandra was on stage next to her sister. I wondered if that meant she planned to follow me to the podium with her accusations against her parents and Clyde Warren.
Mr. Lechleiter checked with the crews and at exactly ten o’clock, he stepped to the podium.
“Members of the press, citizens of the Village of Tenbrook and Hunter County, students and parents of Tenbrook High School. It is unusual to find such a gathering in our town, but unusual accusations have been made against us. Yes, I say against us, for three of our most upright citizens have been accused of corrupting our young women. The accusation has also been laid against our town for fostering moral corruption and covering up crimes against our people. These accusations, resulting in the arrest of two and broad speculation in the press regarding the third and regarding our town have been brought by a man running for sheriff in our county. A man who was fired as our village constable for bullying people, selective enforcement of the laws, and racist targeting. That is who is calling us out, and we will respond.
“We have asked one of the accused to issue a statement in this matter. Nate Hart is known to most of you as a person who has been a staunch defender of his friends and of our village. Let us remind you that it was the photographs that Nate Hart took, showing the brutal treatment of one of our young people at the hands of our former constable, that brought our village council to the decision to fire his ass. Pardon my French. It was further Nate Hart’s photographs that helped our new constable, known to all of us affectionately as Stoney, solve the mystery of petty thefts and vandalism that plagued our town for two years. It brought us all to realize that we had not adequately taken care of our town hero—a situation that we still strive daily to correct.
“I remind you that it was Nate Hart who first uncovered the fraudulent manipulation of our county’s draftee list by the same man who accuses us of immorality. That fraudulent manipulation cost the life of one of our young men from the village and others from around the county. Clyde Warren was then fired from the draft board and is subject to a civil suit brought by the families of draftees throughout the county.
“Finally, I remind you that it was Nate Hart and his photography that brought new prosperity to the Village of Tenbrook by getting a film company to choose our town as the setting for a blockbuster Hollywood movie that is slated to start shooting a sequel right here in Tenbrook this summer. And this is the young man our former constable is accusing of corrupting our young women. Ladies and gentlemen, I invite to the stage for a statement to the public, Mr. Nate Hart.”
I was really surprised at the volume of the applause. The students and those on the stage behind me, especially, were stomping their feet as well as clapping their hands. I walked up to the podium and shook hands with the mayor while flashes went off for the picture. I turned to the audience and they quieted down.
“As a former President of the United States was prone to put it, My Fellow Americans,” I said. “In this case I specify my fellow citizens of Tenbrook, of Hunter County, and of the press—which we all know as the Fourth Estate. I want to thank Mayor Lechleiter for that glorifying introduction, but assure you at the same time that I’m just a kid—now in college, but formerly of here in Tenbrook, Illinois. I came here because I do enough dumb stuff that I could be called out for that I really can’t stand being accused of stuff I didn’t do.
“Here are a few facts. I took pictures of some young men and young women that showed them in partial or complete states of undress. All of those photos were either accompanied by a signed release, giving me the right to publish them as I wished, or a bill of sale, making me custodian of the negatives with no rights to make prints other than for the customer him- or herself.
“Mr. Warren has made quite an issue regarding the age of consent in the State of Illinois being seventeen and many of my releases are signed by sixteen-year-olds. Today the age of consent is seventeen in this state. That has been law for only six months, passed as part of the supporting legislation for our state’s new constitution that went into effect on July first last year. It has no bearing on what came before that time when the age of consent was sixteen.
“He has made an accusation regarding the production and distribution of a 1969 calendar that featured pin-up photos of members of the Tenbrook class of 1969—both male and female. But I did not produce any such photo calendar. I took photos of members of the class of 1969, in fact, all their yearbook photos. Photos taken with my personal Attic Allure style were paid for by the models in those photos. Some, who were over the age of eighteen at the time, signed releases giving me the right to display their photos. But a clause in my release indicates that the model may also display or publish their photo, which is what the class of ’69 chose to do. They collected their own releases and photos from members of the class specifically for the production of their class calendar. I had nothing to do with it.
“Finally, our former constable seems to have some difficulty separating fact from fiction and most certainly reality from fantasy. He has claimed that the movie Over Exposure, released last year, is a thinly disguised exposé of my life and work as a photographer, based on the movie’s fictional locale modeled after the Village of Tenbrook. Many scenes from the movie were shot right here. In fact, many of you appeared in that movie as bystanders and actors. He seems to think that you are actually the people being portrayed.
“In truth, I was asked to consult on the movie to bring some amount of realism to the photographic elements in it. I also did publicity photos for the film. I know he has even pointed out one of my photos of the woman who played the fourteen-year-old seductress victim of the movie as evidence that I was photographing naked children. He failed to account for the fact that the actress who played the role, Lorna Love, was twenty-four years old at the time of the filming. Uh… four years older than I was.
“You see, it often happens that when a person identifies strongly with a character in a movie, they assume other characters must also have a real identity. Apparently, seeing himself in the incompetent police officers investigating the case until the FBI was called in, he assumed that everyone else in the movie represented someone he knew in real life. The truth is—and I talked to the writers about this just last night because they are here in town gathering atmosphere and drama for the sequel—they never imagined that their police officers could possibly be as stupid as the character who identified with them.
“The writers are really looking forward to working with the people of Tenbrook on the sequel to Over Exposure, which I understand has the working title of Double Exposure. They hope you will laugh with them over the notion that Tenbrook was anything more than the basis of a fictional locale and not the seedbed that sprouted a pedophilic murderer. Or… I still haven’t figured out if the guy murdered her or not. Have you?”
I turned from the podium and nodded to the mayor. People started to applaud again and he stepped up to the podium.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
