The Photographer

THE PHOTOGRAPHER

Harry, the photographer, arrived at his studio mid-morning. He unlocked the door, put the ‘open’ sign in the window and went to his computer to check his emails. This was the only one waiting to be read.

Dear Photographer,

Congratulations!

You have been chosen to experience a new era in photography with our newest prototype digital medium format camera. We would like to have you work with it for a full year, in the studio and on location, and at the end of that year, we will send you a survey to be completed about the camera. There is absolutely no charge for the camera, and it is yours to keep past the one-year trial. This is a one-time offer, so don’t let this opportunity slip by. There are no hidden fees, charges, or agreements other than the survey at the end of the year. Your camera will arrive shortly after reading this email. We hope you enjoy working with it.

The Design Center team.

“The Design Center team,” Harry thought. “I’ve never heard of them,” he said aloud, then continued. “When I click on the address this email came from, it takes me nowhere.”

Harry sat in his office chair, mulling over the situation. “I’ll do an internet search,” he said to himself. He tried many types of searches, and nothing was returned about The Design Center.

Harry had no sooner finished doing the internet searches than the studio door opened, and a courier walked in.

“Morning, Harry,” the courier said. “Got a delivery for you.”

“Good morning, Frank,” Harry replied. “What have you got for me?”

The courier looked at the box. “I don’t know. All it says is TDC, and there is no return address.”

“I’ll take it. I was expecting something today, so that must be it,” Harry said, taking the box. “Thanks, Frank. Have a good day.”

“See you next time,” the courier said as he went out the studio door.

Harry opened the box and found a camera inside, just as promised. The model name on the camera was TDC, but there were no instructions on how to use it.

After carefully examining the camera and its many different functions, he thought it would work perfectly for his portrait customers.

He attached it to his tripod, set the studio lights, the controls on the camera and the timer for ten seconds and sat in front of the camera. The studio lights flashed, and he heard the shutter release, taking the picture.

Looking at the image on the camera screen, he thought to himself, “You handsome devil.” He saved the image to his computer.

Sometime later, the shop door opened, and in walked his afternoon clients.

“Hello and good afternoon,” Harry said in his most condescending manner. Welcome to my studio.” In his mind, he was thinking, “Another humdrum shoot. I want to go home.”

“My word. What a good-looking family. This is going to be one of my best portrait sittings. You must let me create all types of images, not just the group pictures but individual as well.” Harry smarmed. “The studio is all set for you, so please follow me.”

He led them into the studio, thinking, “Why me? I’ve shot my share of unattractive people, but this family? Really?”

“Here we are, folks,” Harry said, sweeping his arm around to show them where they were to sit. “I wonder if I can shoot them from the back?” He thought. “No, they probably want their faces showing. Hum, oh well, here goes.”

“Be professional, Harry, be professional,” he thought, then said, “All right folks, this is how I’d like to get started,” with as broad a smile as he could muster.

“Sweety, please don’t play with that,” Harry said as nice as he could as he spotted the young girl pushing one of his light stands.

She stopped and got an instant pout on her face.

“Thank you, sweety,” he said to the girl. Thinking to himself, “Kid needs a spanking.”

“May I call you Grandma, ma’am, and you, sir, Grandpa?” he asked the two oldest of the group.

“Name’s Henry,” Grandpa said. “And I don’t want to be here.”

“Oh, Henry,” Grandma said. “You’ve known for weeks we were going to have some pictures taken today.”

“I know,” Henry said. “How long’s this gonna take?”

“If I can get everyone’s attention, we’ll get started right away,” Harry answered.

“Where would you like us to be?” The man who must have been the father asked. “By the way, my name is Cecil, and that’s my wife Amy.”

“A sincere pleasure to make your acquaintances,” Harry said as nicely as he could.

“Grandpa, grandma, I’d like you to sit on the chairs, please.”

They sat on the chairs.

“Now, I would like the two of you to turn slightly toward each other.”

They turned.

“Perfect,” Harry smarmed again. “I can see this is going to be a great session.”

“Dad, Mum, I’d like you two to stand behind Grandma and Grandpa, slightly facing each other.”

They walked over, stood behind Grandma and Grandpa, and faced each other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t make my suggestion clear enough,” Harry said, mock scolding himself. “Turn to face me.”

They turned and angled themselves as much as they wanted, as they obviously did not want to be near each other.

“Excellent,” Harry praised them. “Amy, you’re going to look like a natural in front of the camera. Tell me, you must have been a model at one time.”

Amy giggled and turned bright red, saying, “No, I’ve never been a model.”

“Such a waste,” Harry said still in his smarming voice. “And you two kids, come on over here. You, son, please stand beside your dad, and you, sweety, can stand beside your mum.”

The two kids could not have shuffled over any slower if they tried.

“You all look terrific where you are,” Harry said, lying through his teeth. “Now, just a few little adjustments, and we can take the pictures.”

All of them needed adjusting, and no matter how he tried, he could not get them all to cooperate. He gave up.

“Okay, folks, let me get my camera, and we’ll get started,” Harry said, wanting to get this over as fast as possible.

“I must remember to get more insurance on my gear,” Harry thought as he picked up the new camera. “Between that girl touching the light stand and the looks on their faces, this camera is sure to break.”

He put his new camera on the studio tripod he always had ready and said, “All right, everyone, let’s start taking some pictures.”

The group just stared at Harry.

“Okay,” he said, pushing the shutter release button and then looking at the camera screen.

“Great first shot,” he said. To himself, he thought, “This is going to be the shoot from hell.”

Harry went back and forth between the group and his camera, making changes here and there.

“Time for one last group shot,” he announced. “Let’s everyone move in close as if you like each other,” he said, feigning a laugh.

“Grandpa, please don’t fall asleep, and would you mind putting your teeth in properly,” Harry asked. “This is not going well,” he thought to himself. “I’ll be retouching these images for hours, and sadly, I can’t do much to fix them.”

He came to the mom and dad shots, and they absolutely did not want to be close. “Can you please cuddle up some more?” He asked. Impossible. They would not do as he asked.

Grandma and Grandpa were different. Grandpa had finally warmed up to the idea, but every time he smiled, his upper teeth would fall out.

The children were different. They would not do as asked, so Harry only took one shot of them. The individual pictures were not going to happen.

“There we go, folks,” Harry said. “All finished.”

“When can we see them?” Amy asked.

“I’ll go over them, and they should be on my website for you to see the day after tomorrow.”

“We don’t have a computer,” Cecil informed Harry. “The children each have their own but won’t let us use them, even for a short time.”

“I see,” Harry said, looking at the children. “Won’t you let mum and dad and grandma and grandpa see them on one of your computers?”

“No,” they said together.

“Spoiled little brats,” Harry thought.

“Well, in that case, can you come back here the day after tomorrow? Say around three in the afternoon?”

“Can we, Cecil?” Amy asked, hopefully.

“I suppose we can,” Cecil agreed. “I’ll take some more time off work and lose more money so we can come and see the pictures.”

“Oh, thank you,” Amy said.

“How much?” Cecil asked.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” Harry said. “How much what?”

“How much is this picture-taking thing gonna cost me?”

“Oh, I see,” Harry said. Let me work it out. One studio shoot at one hundred and fifty dollars should cover it nicely.”

“Robbery,” Cecil stated bluntly as he gave Harry his credit card.

“Cecil, be nice,” Amy scolded.

Harry ran the credit card through the reader and handed it to Cecil. “If you would enter your security code, please.”

Cecil did as requested and handed the reader back to Harry.

“Thank you so much,” Harry said, smarming again. “Now, let me get the door for you.”

“Thank you so much, and we’ll see you the day after tomorrow,” Amy said, trying to make up for Cecil’s bluntness.

“Good afternoon,” Harry said as they departed, locking the door after they had all exited.

“Wow. Am I ever glad that’s done,” Harry said, connecting his camera to his computer. “I don’t want to, but I better have a quick look.”

He downloaded all the images to his computer and started going through them.

“Oh, these are pretty good,” he said. “Much better than I expected.” He copied all the images to a memory stick, checked to see that they were all there, and put it in his pocket.

He put his computer to sleep, put the camera away and turned off the studio lights.

“Time to go home,” he said as he exited and locked the studio door.

He was sitting at home, in front of the television, eating a bowl of chilli with some garlic bread, when an announcement came on, taking over the program he was watching.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special announcement,” the commentator on the screen said. “The News at Five has learned there has been a horrendous accident on Route thirty-three leading out of town. A tractor-trailer unit pulling two trailers full of aviation fuel has overturned and is burning out of control. Three other vehicles were involved in the crash, and we were told by the fire chief at the scene that there did not appear to be any survivors. More details at eleven on this station. We now return you to regular programming.”

“That’s awful,” Harry said to himself. “I hope they find out what caused it. I bet they’ll blame the truck driver.”

He finished his meal and sat thinking, “I should have a look at the images from this afternoon’s shoot.”

Going to his computer, he inserted the memory stick and opened it. He scrolled through the images with a concerned look on his face.

“What happened to all the group shots?” He said as he reloaded the computer from the memory stick.

“Still no group shots,” he said in a quandary. “All the others are there, so what happened?” He sat there for a moment and then decided, “I’m going back to the studio to make sure they are all intact on the computer.”

“Maybe it’s a faulty stick,” he thought as he was driving back to the studio.

When he arrived at the studio, he unlocked the door and woke up his computer. Once it was running, he opened the file for the Hendersons. Just as on the memory stick, all the group shots were missing.

“Well, I’ll be darned,” he said. “What happened to them?”

He checked his camera, but the pictures were all gone, as he had already formatted the memory, erasing everything.

With nothing more to do at the studio, he drove home and waited for the news at eleven.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the News at Eleven,” the announcer said. “For our lead story, we have some video and information about the tractor-trailer crash earlier today, but first, a word from one of our sponsors.”

A mind-numbing commercial came on telling you why you should buy this toilet cleaner over that one. Finally, it ended.

The picture switched back to the news announcer. “The video we are about to show you is extremely graphic, so viewer discretion is advised.”

It switched to what was assumed to be a truck and trailers burning furiously, with three other vehicles caught in the flames. The fire department was doing its best to control and contain the fire but was not having much luck.

“A police spokesman at the scene told News at Eleven that they were able to get the license plate number of the van caught in the inferno,” the announcer said. “The van is registered to a Cecil Henderson.”

That instantly caught Harry’s attention. “No, it can’t be,” he said in disbelief. “I just photographed a family with the husband’s name being Cecil Henderson.”

“We’ll bring you more on this story as it develops,” the announcer said. “In other news…”

Harry was lost in thought, hoping it wasn’t the same Cecil Henderson.

He went to bed thinking that thought.

Morning arrived, and he drove to the studio, getting ready for the afternoon clients.

Harry looked at the Henderson file on the computer, and all the group images were gone, just like yesterday. He checked other client files, and all the pictures were where they should be.

It was noon, so he switched on the television in the studio, hoping for more news about yesterday’s accident.

“And for our next story,” the News at Noon announcer said, “more about the vehicle crash yesterday afternoon after these important messages.” The important messages turned out to be how white your teeth will be if you use this particular toothpaste, the best place in town to get your car’s oil changed, and how this vitamin-enriched bread will help your children grow. Three minutes of wasted time.

“And now, back to our stories,” the announcer said. After an exhaustive investigation, it appears that the truck pulling the two aviation fuel trailers had a mechanical breakdown, which caused it to swerve, crossing three lanes of traffic and slamming into the divider. Apparently, sparks flew, which ignited the gas fumes, causing the massive explosion. There were no survivors. Here is more video of the scene as it happened.”

The video ended, and the announcer started again. “I am sorry to report that there were no survivors. The truck driver was Robert Albright, who was forty years old. Also perished in the mayhem was the Henderson family. Cecil, fifty-nine, his wife Amy, fifty-seven, Grandfather Henry, seventy-eight, and his wife, Emily, eighty-two, and the two children Peter and Gail, both in their early teens. The deceased in the other two vehicles have yet to be identified. In other news…”

Harry was absolutely stunned. Just hours before the horrible accident, he had been with them in his studio.

“I have to check the computer once more. Maybe it was a glitch, and the images are there.”

He went to his computer and checked again. Nothing. The group shots were definitely gone. “I don’t understand what happened to them.”

The studio door opened, and Harry heard a female voice call out, “Hello.”

He immediately turned from his computer to find an attractive, well-dressed woman, probably in her early thirties, standing inside the door.

“Hello. Is there something I can help you with?” He asked.

She handed him her business card, which Harry took and read. “Ms. Beaumont?” he asked.

“Yes, but please call me Heather.”

“I see you’re into real estate,” Harry said.

“Yes, and that’s why I’m here,” Heather said. “I need some photographs taken of myself at different client’s houses.

“I can do that for you,” Harry smarmed again.

“Please,” Heather started. “Would you stop with the special customer routine so we can get down to business?”

Harry went slightly red. He had never been caught doing his smarming routine.

“You’re right, “Harry admitted. “It’s just that nobody has ever mentioned it before.”

“Well, now that that’s behind us, can you do the pictures for me?”

“Certainly,” Harry answered. “My location rate is…”

Heather interrupted him. “I’m not interested in your rates,” she stated clearly. “I’m sure your rates are just as expensive as everyone else, so let’s talk business.”

“Okay,” Harry said, pointing to a chair. “Please, sit down and let’s talk.”

She explained her ideas to Harry, letting him decide the one he could best work with.”

“I can work at all the locations you’ve mentioned.” He said. “Using one location would be the least expensive, but, as I’m sure you can understand, multiple locations cost more.”

“Understood. I need results quickly, so when can you do it?” She asked.

“I can start first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Why not now?”

“In about half an hour, my first clients of the afternoon will be here, and then my next one will be here an hour and a half later.” Harry explained, “And I’m not about to disappoint them.”

“Excellent work ethic,” she said approvingly. “Now, do you have time to do a few headshots for my new cards?”

“Sure. Let’s do them now.”

Harry led her to the studio and switched on the lights. Pointing, he said, “Bathroom is over there, and there’s a mirror inside.”

“I’ll just make myself presentable,” Heather said, stepping in.

Harry finished setting up his camera when she came out of the bathroom, asking, “Where do you want me?”

“Over here,” Harry said, directing her to the stool in front of the big white background.

The lights were perfect, so he started creating the images. He took several shots from different angles, and soon, they were finished.

“I’ll bring the images with me tomorrow on a flash drive, and you can select them from there.”

“All right, and thank you. See you here at nine in the morning.” She looked at her watch. “Oh my, it’s almost time for my daily run,” she said, exiting through the studio door.

After what happened with the Henderson’s images, Harry double and triple-checked his gear. He found everything in order, so he transferred the images to his flash drive and checked it to make sure they were all there.

His other two clients arrived exactly on time, and they were easy sessions. The first was a couples shoot, while the second was product photography.

He was late leaving the studio and, on the way home, heard on his car radio, “…and that’s what the coroner said. Heather Beaumont, death by a heart attack while jogging. For our next story…”

“What?” Harry asked himself in total surprise. “It couldn’t be my Heather Beaumont, could it?” He thought for a moment, then said, “No. Just coincidence.”

The Henderson’s missing pictures had him wondering, so he pulled into the first parking lot he came to and stopped.

He had to know for sure, even though he knew full well that it was just a coincidence. He took out his phone, found the adapter and connected the flash drive to it.

“Why am I nervous?” he said to himself. “It’s just a coincidence.”

He hesitated before pressing the load button on his phone. Finally, he pressed it, keeping his eyes shut until the loading was complete.

He looked at the file.

“Nothing?” he shouted in the car. “How can this be? I checked, and they were on the flash drive before I left the studio.”

With great trepidation, he decided to go back to the studio and check the master file on the computer.

He parked in front of his door, unlocked it, and went in, going straight to the computer. He never turned it off, so it took only a moment to bring up the Beaumont file.

Nothing. The computer had no images to load. The file was empty.

“They were there before I left the studio, and now they’re gone.”

He sat, thinking. “I’ll pull up some images from the couple’s shoot and the product session,” he said. “I’ll see if they’re missing as well.”

He loaded the files. “They’re all there. Both sessions. I don’t understand.”

Harry arrived home and spent a very restless night thinking about the missing images.

The alarm clock went off at seven in the morning, and Harry fumbled for the snooze button. He immediately fell back to sleep.

The sun was shining brightly through his bedroom window when he awoke with a start, sitting up in bed and looking around. He glanced at the alarm clock, and it read ten in the morning. Throwing the bed covers off, he jumped out of bed and rushed through his morning routine. He skipped breakfast and would have something later.

The drive to the studio seemed agonizingly slow. His concern over opening the studio late was uppermost on his mind. He arrived, parked his car, and walked quickly to the door. There, he found a note taped to it.

I’m sorry we missed you this morning. We’ll call in a few days and make another appointment. Jack and Jill Hill.

“I don’t like disappointing clients,” he admonished himself.

Unlocking the door, he entered and saw his phone was blinking, letting him know messages were waiting. He pushed the play button.

He found two wedding requests, three family portrait sessions, all to be done outdoors, coverage of a golf tournament and more requests. Once he had heard all the messages, he started calling the potential clients and was able to book them all.

For the next two months, Harry was unusually busy. Requests for his services kept coming on a daily basis. Every day of the week was taken up by photography. Saturday weddings, sometimes two on the same day, Sunday family get-togethers, studio and location portrait sessions, and commercial shoots kept him very busy.

He remembered the problem with the Hendersons and Ms. Beaumont’s images. He still could not explain what had happened to them other than that it must have been a glitch in the computer’s memory.

He kept checking every session to make sure all the images were saved on the computer and a memory stick. None of them went missing. He found the TDC camera worked perfectly, and none of his images were less than perfect. He couldn’t take a bad picture if he tried.

The money kept rolling in, and after expenses, he was left with a very tidy sum, burning a hole in his pocket.

The busy times were slowing down, so he decided to take a trip somewhere he had never been before. His passport had expired, so he completed a new application. He went to take his passport photographs but found his passport camera was not working properly. He set up his TDC camera, had it take his picture, and printed two photographs the size the passport office required. They were perfect. He submitted the application and the appropriate funds, and his passport arrived three weeks later. He visited a travel agent, decided where to go and paid for everything on his credit card. He was leaving the next day, so he closed the studio for two weeks and went home to pack.

Harry’s bags were all packed and by the front door. Passport,

wallet, phone, all present. The taxi he was waiting for pulled up to the

curb. He put the bags on the front steps and closed and locked the front

door. With bags in hand, he put them in the taxi and jumped in himself.

“Where to?” The driver asked.

“The airport, please,” he answered. “I’ve been waiting for this

holiday for a long time.”

“A holiday, eh,” the taxi driver said. “Where are you going?”

“Switzerland,” he answered. “Take in some sightseeing and find

out if I can still ski.”

“Sounds good,” the driver said, pulling into traffic.

The traffic was heavy, and the thirty-minute ride to the airport took almost forty-five minutes.

One more check for passport, phone, and wallet. All present. He

paid the driver, picked up his bags and went into the airport to one of the

check-in counters.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the ticket agent said. “Where to today?” she

asked.

“Switzerland,” Harry replied.

“Great place to visit. I’ve been there twice myself, and I still can’t

ski,” she said, chuckling. “Your itinerary, please, and I’ll check you in.”

She entered the information into the computer and asked, “Can I

see your identification, please, sir?”

Harry handed over his passport.

“I’m sorry, sir, but this identification isn’t valid.”

“What do you mean not valid?” A very frustrated Harry asked.

“It’s a new passport.”

“I can see it’s new, sir, but your picture is missing.”