Shutter Speed
2
Putting the Pieces Together
THE DAY MY WORLD started going to hell, in my opinion, was June 24, 1967.
It wasn’t a bad start. I had a new model from Chicago named Janna Adams. Chris was in the studio Friday afternoon to meet her and we both looked at each other to see if we thought the same thing. It was obvious that we did. Janna did not look eighteen. She looked like she might be sixteen if we stretched it. She even wore braces. But she’d driven herself from Chicago in a nice sports car.
I took her model release. She had one of the releases with a five-year delay before I could use her pictures in public. It had her birthdate as June 1, 1948, and it was notarized by my uncle. I guess she was eighteen. It’s not like I couldn’t take pictures of her if she was under eighteen. I had several model contracts from sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds. But it wasn’t wise to display any pictures of them that showed their breasts or pussy. Some of the girls I’d taken pictures of still wanted the bare look for their own personal collections, or wanted me to have them in my personal collection.
We sat to talk about what kind of pictures Janna wanted and I asked her point blank about her age.
“Yeah. I’m eighteen. I was really an undernourished street urchin when Saul found me a year ago. He took me in, got me clean and sober, protected me from my pimp, got tutors to help me finish school, got me braces, and just has been the best ever. I’d do anything at all for him and he says all he wants is a few really great photos of me. So, I want the best, sexiest, most glamorous photos you can take of me. Saul said you would know just what to do.”
“Okay, then.” I looked at Chris and she nodded. “Let’s see what you brought for us to work with.”
Janna brought several outfits and some props with her.
“Saul likes me to look like a little girl, so I guess I’m lucky I have this look. But he loves it when he thinks he’s accidentally caught me running around naked. Of course, it’s never really accidental. I try to make sure he catches me at least once a week. You’d think that as much as he likes to see me, he’d want to do some other stuff, too, but he’s never touched me in a sexy way. He just takes care of me and I just love him.”
It sounded a lot like Patricia’s dream of meeting Hugh Hefner. She imagined that he would worship her and never touch her, no matter how she teased him. He’d know she belonged to Tony. I wasn’t quite that confident of the dream.
We went straight to work. Of course, the first thing we did was work on the schoolgirl look. Patricia had done a terrific set of schoolgirl photos for Tony’s birthday a couple of months ago. I took the same kind of story approach with Janna. Chris got her made up so subtly that it looked like she was just a fresh-faced kid. Chris managed the rate of exposure, but inevitably, Janna was naked, dragging around an enormous teddy bear in front of the brick wall.
We worked all afternoon and then she went to spend the night at the Hills Motel in Huntertown. Chris and I went out to the river and fucked ourselves silly. We didn’t invite Janna along physically, but it seemed she kept cropping up in our thoughts.
“I feel like such a nasty old lady!” Chris said. “I’d swear she wasn’t more than fourteen or fifteen. Did you look at those breasts? They were like innocent little buds on her chest. I remember when my breasts were that size. I rubbed them all the time! It seems that my nipples could light a fire they were so hot.”
“And now you’ve moved from those little teacup breasts to these beautiful champagne glass breasts,” I suggested, trying to purge the image of Janna’s little tits from my mind.
“Didn’t you just want to suck on them and see if you could make her come without even touching her pussy?” Chris persisted.
“They reminded me a lot of Vicki’s. Her breasts are about that size and ultra-sensitive. The first time I made her come, it was from biting down on her nipple.” I’d dated Vicki, a sophomore cheerleader, a few times in the past year.
“Oh, that made my pussy gush. Fuck me, Nate. Right now!”
Well, you get the gist of how our evening went. Unfortunately, Chris’s first orgasm also marked the beginning of her monthly cycle. I spent the rest of our evening just holding her and comforting her.
Janna wanted to get back to Chicago on Saturday, so I skipped morning laundry, promising to get it done later in the day, and we started working at nine. I got a great photo of Janna on my rocking horse prop. She looked like a little girl, but her bare butt was showing. It was one of those extremely sexy shots—if you’re into young girls.
By noon we had all the pictures any of us wanted to take, so we bid Janna goodbye and I told her I’d send the proof sheets later in the week. Chris held together through the morning, but was in obvious pain with cramps. She went home after we’d had a few little kisses and promised she’d feel good enough to meet Sunday afternoon. I started putting the studio back together a little. I needed to get my camera put away, but Chris and I would work on tidying up the whole studio Sunday.
I was about to head upstairs to my under-desk safe when I heard a frantic knocking at the door. I thought Chris must have forgotten something and I rushed to let her in.
Instead of Chris, Patricia came crashing through the door into my arms, crying uncontrollably. She practically dragged me to the floor in her desperation. I quickly looked outside to see if she was being chased but didn’t see anyone. I still slammed the door shut and threw the deadbolt. Patricia was in a crumpled heap at my feet, sobbing.
I scooped her up and carried her to the fainting couch where I could hold her more comfortably than on the floor. I was amazed at how light she was. We sat on the couch and I held her and stroked her pale blonde hair.
“Hey, now. It’s okay. You’re safe with me. What’s going on? You know you can talk to me.”
“T-Tony,” she gasped.
I caught my breath trying not to imagine what Tony could have done to bring her to me in tears. Was he in an accident? Did he break up with her?
“What is it? Did Tony hurt you?” I asked. She shook her head vigorously.
“D-drafted! Tony’s been drafted. He has to report in two weeks.”
“Oh, shit! No. That’s not possible. He just got out of high school. They can’t draft a guy until he turns nineteen. He can’t be drafted. It’s a mistake.”
“No.” She was gasping and trying to catch her breath. I pulled out my clean handkerchief and dried her eyes. She took it and blew her nose. Well, that was why I carried two. “Tony turned nineteen on April eleventh. With the way his family always moved around, he fell behind a year in school. He’s nineteen and he’s out of school and they drafted him.”
“Damn it! Where is he now? Why aren’t you with him?”
“You know Tony. When something bad comes his way, he goes off by himself. I’m so worried about him!” Patricia cried. I was glad I hadn’t used my other handkerchief. It was beginning to look like Patricia would need it.
“What should I do, Nate? I don’t want him to go into the army! He doesn’t want to go. What should we do?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what I’d do,” I said. “I’d pack your cute ass onto the back of that motorcycle and be in Canada by tomorrow morning. Tony should refuse to go.”
“You know he won’t do that. Tony’s never backed down from anything or anyone, except you. If you talk to him… If you tell him… I’ll go home and pack what I need and be ready to leave as soon as he comes home. But he won’t do it. He’s so stubborn sometimes. He’ll face it head on and show he can be the best soldier there is. I just know it.”
“Oh, Patricia. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you. Just hang on to him for all he’s worth and love him to the end of the earth. Whenever you need a shoulder, I’ll be here for you. You need to rally your support. Talk to Judith and Janice. You know they love you. I’ll talk to Chris. Chris will always support you. I wish I could get hold of Ronda. No one defends the girls in our class like she does. Patricia, we’re all here for you. I’m not one of his motorcycle buddies, but I’m here for Tony. I still consider him the best friend I have in Tenbrook.”
“He thinks the same of you, Nate. And so do I. Just… Please hold me until he comes home.”
I had no idea when Tony would come home, but I held Patricia most of the afternoon.
For the first time I could remember since it became my responsibility, I didn’t get the laundry done on Saturday. I held Patricia in my arms, just petting her hair and whispering words of comfort. She fell asleep in my arms and I thought she was the sweetest and most vulnerable girl I ever knew, in spite of her reputation of being a wild girl member of a motorcycle gang.
Sunday after church, I had to go get the laundry done before I could go to the studio. I called Chris and she agreed to meet me at four. I’d used several strips of fabric from the studio over the weekend and I’d promised Chris I’d wash the blanket we used out by the river. As a result, I had a lot of ironing to do to get the fabric ready for another client. Whenever I was called for one.
When Chris got to the studio, she wanted to know why I was running so late. I told her all about Tony and Patricia, including having held her while she slept for almost two hours.
“Wow! And she just slept?”
“Cried herself to sleep,” I agreed.
“And you didn’t like… um… take advantage of her or anything did you?” Chris was a little unsure of herself. I took her in my arms and led her to the couch to sit down.
“Honey, Patricia and Tony are two of my best friends in Tenbrook. Which, I guess, means anywhere. For their sake, I would never cross the line with Patricia. But more importantly, I would never cross that line for our sake. I love you and if Patricia and Tony are two of my best friends, you are not only my lover but also my very best friend.”
“I know I sounded jealous. I’m sorry. Having a girl come to you to sleep in your arms is almost more romantic and intimate than just making love to her. It got me for a minute. If sometime you do want to make love to Patricia, I’m okay with that. I mean, if Tony goes off to Vietnam, she might need that level of comfort.”
“I think if Tony goes off to Vietnam, the army had better make sure he has room in his bunk for Patricia. I don’t think she’d stay home.”
“You’re probably right,” she said and kissed me. That took us a few minutes. “So, what’s the next thing on our schedule for photography?”
“Well, I got a call last night from Chicago. I have an Amy Clark coming for photos on Friday and Saturday. Same kind of arrangement as for Janna. She’s spending the night at the motel and we’ll finish up on Saturday morning. She wants a series of what she called period piece portraits which will include a selection of boudoir pictures. I think I got that right,” I said.
“Wow. Anything special we need to get for it?”
“Yes. I need a bed.”
“Oh, my God!”
“That’s what I thought. I plan to go down to Mrs. Wilson’s and see what she has. I’m not going to spring for buying a mattress, though. Amy might need to recline gracefully on a piece of plywood.”
“That would definitely keep her from getting too comfortable.”
“In addition to that, Dad and Mr. Kowalski want to get started on my new darkroom construction. They’ve assured me that I don’t need to worry about anything. They have my sketches and Mr. Barkley’s go-ahead. They say they will handle the whole thing, including blocking off the area with Visqueen. I hate to have a construction site visible when I’ve got a client, but there isn’t any way around that. I guess the only other thing is getting Janna’s proof sheets printed up and shipped off to her.”
“You should take Anna with you on your buying trip so she can see how Mrs. Wilson keeps the records and start copying them.”
“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll plan it for… Oh, crap! I don’t have a car to carry stuff in. I’ll have to carry the bed on my back from Mrs. Wilson’s to the studio. That’s five-plus blocks!”
“I’ll see if I can get the wagon. I forget your dad has your wagon for work now.”
“That would be great if you could do that. Want to come home with me for ice cream and TV after we finish here?”
“That sounds so cozy. Will you rub my tummy? And will we get to kiss?”
“I’ll be your heating pad. Mom understands those things. But kissing, only when I walk you home.”
“I guess I can live with that, if you give me some good ones now.”
I did my best to keep her satisfied.
I went to the studio Monday morning to finish the proof sheets for Janna, wondering what was happening to Patricia and Tony. I wondered if he’d come back and if they’d taken my advice to run for the border. I didn’t need to wonder long as there was a knock at my door, only a little less frantic than Patricia’s on Saturday.
When I opened the door, though, it was Patricia, beaming, with Tony beside her. She came in and hugged me and a step later, Tony caught me in a hug.
“Can you take us to meet your mother?” he asked.
“My mother?” I asked, stupidly.
“The one you call Reverend Mother Superior,” Patricia laughed. “We want her to marry us.”
“Wow! That’s… so unexpected.” I looked at my watch. “If we go right now, we should catch her before her appointment in Huntertown. She doesn’t usually work on Mondays.”
We jogged down the stairs and they got on the motorcycle. I just kept jogging the three blocks home while they kept pace with me. I opened the door and called inside.
“Mom? Are you still home? Can we talk to you?”
Mom came out of the kitchen. She was not dressed professionally, meaning she wasn’t wearing a clerical collar, but she had a nice pantsuit on to go to her hair appointment.
“What on earth, Nate? Who’s with you?”
“Mom, these are two of my best friends, Patricia and Tony. They want to know if you’ll marry them.”
“Oh, my. Perhaps we should sit and talk for a few minutes.”
Mom sat in the living room with Tony and Patricia and I went to get pop and coffee in the kitchen. I think Mom was a bit surprised, not only by the request, but by me bringing them into the house on her day off. She focused all her attention on the couple, though, without even glancing to see what time it was.
“When did you want to get married? Before school starts this fall? Or are we talking after Patricia’s graduation?” Mom asked.
“We’d like to get married tomorrow,” Tony said excitedly. “We got our license this morning.” He held out the piece of paper and Mom looked it over while I gave everyone their drinks.
“Nate, perhaps I should talk to Tony and Patricia alone. I have to ask some delicate questions,” Mom said. I turned to leave but Tony interrupted.
“Please, Reverend Hart. We’d like Nate to stay with us. He’s our best friend and we want him to be our best man and to take pictures of us. Can he stay?”
“Well, if you really want him to, I can’t say no, but…”
“I’m not pregnant,” Patricia broke in. “I assume that was the delicate question you wanted to ask. Tony and I have been in love for a year and a half. We just want to be married.”
“That’s fair enough,” Mom said gently. “You’re right, that was one question. But your request is very sudden. You simply went out to get a marriage license this morning and want to get married tomorrow. Why the sudden rush?”
Tony heaved a deep breath and sat up straight.
“I’ve been drafted, Reverend Hart. I have to report for induction in two weeks. First of all, I don’t want to go into the army without showing Patricia that I love her and am committed to her in every way. It’s also something that will make it easier for me to set up things like pay and insurance to support my wife. And… well, we want to get married tomorrow so we’ll have time to go on a little honeymoon before I have to report,” Tony said.
“The draft again. I can’t tell you how much I hate that you have been drafted,” Mom sighed. “Tell me, why do you want me to do this wedding. You’re Catholic, aren’t you, Patricia? Are you, Tony?”
“I haven’t been to the Catholic Church for over a year,” Patricia said. “And Tony had only been there a few times when we first got together. Father Emory didn’t approve of us being together. He tries not to be racist, but he had a long chat with us about the hardships people go through when there is even a hint of interracial relationship.”
“That’s really another reason we want you to do this if you will,” Tony said. “When we were being bullied by the old constable, your husband—your family—stood up for us and drove the village council to replace him. Nate has been a friend almost since he moved to town and Patricia models for him when she can. That’s why we’d like you to perform the wedding instead of just appearing before a judge at the courthouse.”
“I see,” Mom said. “I wonder if you would pray with me for a minute. Sometimes, I need to seek guidance in finding the right response.”
We all bowed our heads Mom prayed a blessing on all of us and guidance in counseling Patricia and Tony. It wasn’t a long prayer. She didn’t pray for anyone’s salvation or to change anyone’s mind. I was reminded of her statement to me that she was a minister, not a judge. I hoped she would favor my friends’ request.
“Do your parents know your intention?” Mom asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Patricia said.
“When I got notice that I’d been drafted, I had to go off by myself for a day to figure out what I should do. Riding my motorcycle is like meditation for me. I guess we could have just gotten on it and rode off to Canada, but I’ve never run away from anything. My parents did that all their lives and it’s no way to start a family. I saw what it did to my mom and dad. I can’t subject Patricia to a life on the run. When I got back home last night, I got my parents to come over to Patricia’s house with me and I got down on my knees in front of them and asked her to marry me. We all talked about it and they honestly didn’t really want us to do it right now, but they promised they would be with us and back us up if that was what we decided.”
“Then let’s talk about what we need to do to get you married tomorrow afternoon.”
I wanted to stand up and cheer for my mom!
It all put a real hole in my studio production time. Tony needed a buddy to shepherd him around while Patricia went to see Judy and Janice. We went into Huntertown to get some flowers. It was my first time riding the motorcycle behind Tony. It was a little scary when I was carting a bunch of flowers and trying not to squash them between us.
Tuesday afternoon, a small group gathered in our church. Tony asked me to stand as his best man, but Eric from his motorcycle group stood with us as well. I was glad at least one of Tony’s biker buddies was with him. Eric happened to also be the son of the EUB minister in Huffington.
Judy and Janice stood with Patricia and I have no idea how those three girls managed to pull together a wedding dress and two matching bridesmaid dresses in twenty-four hours. They’d told me I could ask Chris to be with us and she was thrilled. Judy and Janice’s boyfriend Pete sat quietly on the ‘bride’s side’ of the pew. Tony’s parents and little sister were there, as were Patricia’s parents. They were surprised that Father Emory attended the little wedding party. Oh, and Dad took the day off to be with his friend, Jim Kowalski, Tony’s dad. Kat sat with him, dreamily looking at her heroine as Patricia spoke her vows.
That was everybody.
I had my good camera set up on a tripod so we could take pictures after the ceremony. Chris was carrying extra film for me. I didn’t know Tony owned a suit, but he was dressed in one. There was fresh polish on his motorcycle boots.
Mom spoke a bit about the meaning of marriage and the reasons for becoming husband and wife. I mean, she is a preacher. You had to expect she’d give a little sermon. When it came time for the closing prayer and blessing, she invited Father Emory to join her and they both put their hands on Tony and Patricia to ask God’s blessing on their marriage and to ask for Tony’s safety as he served his country. Both Tony and Patricia were crying when Mom pronounced them husband and wife and invited them to kiss each other.
I quickly took pictures of everyone, including setting the timer on the camera so I could jump into the picture myself. It’s probably the only wedding picture that included everyone who attended the wedding. After about twenty minutes of pictures and hugs and congratulations, Tony and Patricia went out the front door of the church and got on his motorcycle. Eric had tied some cans to the tail light and put a ‘Just Married’ sign on it. Tony revved the engine a couple of times and they took off up Main Street. Patricia threw her flowers over her shoulder and Janice grabbed them.
My friends were married. And in twelve days, July 5, Tony would be in the army.
I guess there is something about a wedding that makes girls feel ultra-romantic. I could see it in Judy and Janice’s eyes as they latched onto Pete after the ceremony. Then I turned and saw it in Christine’s eyes when she looked at me. It was still early in the day, but we agreed it was time to head for the river.
Dad asked for my studio key as he and Jim were going to go over and get started on the new darkroom. Wow! I guessed there was no wedding reception. Patricia and Tony had taken off and the rest of us had ‘stuff to do.’
“What were you whispering to Judy and Janice about?” I asked as Chris and I settled on our blanket out by the stream about five miles from town.
“We had to agree who was going to where to make love to our guys,” she giggled. “I think poor Pete is going to get drained by both of them. For that matter, I’m going to do my best to drain you, too.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure that takes a long time to happen,” I said as I kissed her.
“Just fill me, lover. Fill me up.”
I did my best. Sliding into Christine’s pussy was the highlight of my life. I would never get tired of this.
“When do you turn eighteen, Nate?”
“September 27th. Why? When’s your birthday?”
“January 4. I kind of didn’t make a big deal about it last January because we’d just been out one time, but we went out for Kentucky Fried the night before my birthday and you kissed me. My birthday kiss and the last one while I was still sixteen.”
“I remember that. We were so innocent. I remember how we didn’t even touch tongues. It was just our soft moist lips pressed together.” I demonstrated with a light kiss that just involved our lips and nothing else. It was still electric.
“I love that,” she sighed. “This year, right after my birthday, I’m going to see a doctor and get a prescription for birth control pills.”
“Really? I didn’t realize they had such a thing.”
“Yeah. They were approved a few years ago, but most people still aren’t aware of them. There aren’t many places unmarried women can get them because a doctor can’t prescribe birth control to an unmarried woman. But he can prescribe the same pill to help a woman regulate her period and control cramping. Miss Ludwig had information about them in her special reading section for young women.”
“Seems like that would solve a whole lot of Vicki’s issues.”
“I don’t think she wants any kind of birth control. I doubt if the pope would even allow her to get fucked in the butt or give a blow job. From what I’ve heard, he believes sex is strictly for procreation,” Chris said.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Neither do I. That’s why I’m going to get birth control pills. I want to feel you come in my pussy the way you come in my mouth—without a rubber.”
“Wow, Chris! I just got hard again.”
“Then for now, put another condom on and put your beautiful penis in my vagina where it belongs.”
When Amy Clark arrived for her photo session on Friday afternoon, she was accompanied by a guy in a black suit who insisted that he be allowed to inspect our studio before she gave me the model release. He looked behind the Visqueen barrier that blocked off the construction area, examined the gallery, and looked out the windows before demanding that the drapes be closed. He looked in the dressing rooms and the bathrooms and then went up to the attic and down to where the second floor gate was closed.
I didn’t much like his attitude, but these were people who Uncle Nate knew and I didn’t want to offend anyone, so Chris and I just sat quietly and watched. Amy did the same thing, not saying a word while he was doing his inspection. He finally finished and just said, “Okay.”
“Joshua, I need my things from the car,” Amy said. He nodded and went out the door while Amy presented the model release to me. I looked at the signatures and gave her a signed copy. Uncle Nate had notarized her signature and verified her identification, so I was all set. This one, too, had a five-year clause so I couldn’t publicly display her photos for five years.
“I have to ask you, Amy, are you here willingly to have your photos taken?”
She looked at me like I’d grown another head.
“Who do you think could force me to be here if I didn’t want to be? Yes, I’m here willingly.”
The tone of her response and the order she gave Joshua to hang her clothes and not to get anything messed up, gave us a whole new understanding of their relationship. She ordered him to leave and be back to pick her up promptly at five o’clock. It was clear that he was her employee, maybe bodyguard or servant, and not her boss.
Amy had an air about her that told us she wasn’t used to anyone telling her what to do. It took us a few shots before she finally started accepting my direction regarding how to pose. She kept insisting on a smile that just had ‘fake’ written all over it. She was self-conscious about a mole under her left arm. She wanted to pose ‘just so.’
And she didn’t treat Chris very well, either, ordering her around and telling her to fetch a particular negligee from the rack. Yes, ‘to fetch.’ That was the exact word she used. I shot a few closeup portraits and she wanted to move directly to the boudoir shots. She poofed her hair up extra high and we draped a strip of fabric from the backdrop stand over her as she stretched out on the bed that Chris had managed to bring from Mrs. Wilson’s in the back of the Belvedere.
By four o’clock, I was getting frustrated. Every direction I gave her, she ignored. Chris draped fabric artfully and she pushed it aside. I asked for her to give me a seductive look and she gave me the same fake smile. I told her to turn her shoulders one direction and she turned them the other. It was almost like she was purposely doing the opposite of anything I told her to do. At four-thirty, I put the lens cap on my camera.
“Okay, that’s it. Maybe we’ll be able to get something decent tomorrow,” I said.
“It’s only four-thirty and we haven’t done my Attic Allure photo yet. We’re not done.”
“Attic Allure photos are something that I create. They aren’t something done on demand. I don’t feel like creating anything else today.”
“But…”
“Be back here at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“That’s too early.”
I turned to stare down the woman. She was admittedly beautiful. She had perfect proportions, perfect teeth, a perfect manicure, perfect tits. Her toenails were even painted to match her fingernails and lipstick. I didn’t care. I’d never been so turned off by a woman in my life.
“I’ll start taking photos at ten o’clock tomorrow morning whether you are in them or not. They might be better if you’re not in them.”
“I’ve never been so insulted. I’m going to call Mr. Mayer.”
“You do that. Now get out of my studio.”
After Amy had stormed about, gathering her clothes, and tossing them near the rack, she slammed the door to the dressing room, presumably to let us know she was dressing. Chris crept up to me and wrapped her arms around me.
“Can I go home now?” she whispered.
“I’d appreciate it if you waited until she’s gone,” I said. “You’re the only thing keeping me from losing my temper.”
“You mean you didn’t just lose it?”
“Not even close.”
She shivered in my arms, but stayed there until Amy left the dressing room and stormed out of the studio. I kissed Christine and thanked her for all the work she’d done today. About five minutes later, Dad and Mr. Kowalski came into the studio to start working on the darkroom. Chris left and I put away my camera, then slipped out of the studio. I needed to make a phone call.
“Uncle Nate,” I said when he answered the phone, “how much do I lose if I cancel Amy Clark’s contract and release and send her away?”
“Whoa! It sounds like you’ve had a bad day,” he responded. “Has she been a problem?”
“Is there a polite way of saying she’s a royal bitch without calling her a royal bitch?” I asked. I was in Mom’s office to use the phone and saw her in the living room looking up at me.
“Okay. Let’s go over what’s happened today that has you upset so I know how to advise you,” he said.
I went through all the events of the day, including the strongman who came in to inspect the studio down to my telling her I’d start taking pictures at ten o’clock with or without her. He listened and hummed a lot.
“I understand,” he said finally. “Maybe I should have given you more information before we scheduled this shoot. Amy saw the photo album I use to promote your pictures and immediately started going through a list of the photos that she wanted of herself. She’s rich—as in able to buy and sell either one of us. And half the rest of Chicago. She’s beautiful, as I’m sure you must have noticed. And she is spoiled beyond belief. She’s never had to work for anything and never had to ask for anything. She simply demands and people do what she wants. That includes school. It might surprise you to find she is very smart—top of her class smart, and I know a couple of teachers who affirm that she really is that smart. She doesn’t just buy grades.”
“That certainly explains part of her attitude. Does she really need to be so demeaning to others and so intentionally contrary?” I asked.
“I don’t know what you are capable of, Nate. Other than fine photography. So, it will be up to you to decide whether you cancel the rest of her shoot. Unfortunately, she has a lot of pull in the school and community here. And I mean the community of rich people, not just of Forest Glen. If you decide to proceed, you need to take a firm hand with Amy. I mean you have to be more demanding than she is and refuse to budge if she doesn’t comply. The best thing you did today was kick her out of the studio and tell her ten o’clock is firm. Be sure you are there and ready to snap the first photo at ten o’clock sharp. Have a still life set up. Tell her what you want her to do and refuse to take the picture until she does it the way you want her to. That’s the best advice I can give you.”
“Well, I assume she’s checked into her motel by now. You’ll probably get a call from her as soon as I hang up. Thank you for the advice, Uncle Nate. I’ll have to get my head around it and be ready for her in the morning,” I said.
“You’re a good man, Nate. That studio and the photos taken in it are yours. No one else’s. Demand behavior that supports your work.”
I called Chris to make sure she was feeling okay after our day. She said she thought she just needed to sit with the family and watch TV tonight and I agreed that sounded like a good plan.
“About tomorrow, honey,” I said. “If you don’t want to put up with this again, I understand, but I could really use your support. I’m afraid I’m not going to be very nice to her tomorrow.”
“I’m sure she can’t tell,” Chris laughed. “I’ll be there and be ready to do anything you want me to. Anything, lover.”
“I’ll hold that in reserve for after the shooting,” I said. “It’s a good thing I only have a camera to shoot with.”
“Ooh. So much for being a pacifist.”
“There’s nothing that says a pacifist has to think peaceful thoughts all the time. I just have to not act on the violent ones.”
“What about the lustful ones?” she whispered.
“I feel completely free to act on those,” I laughed.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
