Pinhole, First Lessons

Fanlon

Pinhole

by Fanlon

2022

Pinhole

First Lessons

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

Product names, brands, and other trademarks referred to within this book are the property of their respective trademark holders. Unless otherwise specified, no association between the author and any trademark holder is expressed or implied. Nor does it express any endorsement by them, or of them. Use of a term in this book should not be regarded as affecting the validity of any trademark, registered trademark, or service mark

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 1

It was the first day of my freshman year of high school and I was sitting in the passenger seat of my mother’s brand new 1997 teal green Dodge Grand Caravan. The ‘grand’ designation was important, according to my mother, just like the camel, which is just another name for tan, cloth bucket seats in the middle row. Lincoln High was for grades freshman through senior. My first class, Social Studies, was supposed to start at 7:53 and it was already 7:49 according to the clock on the dashboard of Mom’s new van. To make matters worse, there was a line of a half dozen cars in front of us trying to unload their cargo in the designated unloading zone. From how fast the line was moving, I could tell those kids were just as excited as I was for the first day of school, which was to say not at all. I really should have been, but I didn’t know what was going to happen to me my freshman year yet.

I glanced at the clock again, 7:50. Come on, hurry up, I’m going to be late! My hand subconsciously reached for the seat belt buckle, primed and ready to release myself. I had learned last week that the clock on the dash was about as reliable as the TV weatherman, which only furthered my internal anxiety of being late on my first day. You know what they say about first impressions, if you don’t succeed, try, try again…

I was overly anxious to get inside and to my locker. To make matters worse, as I tried to remember where exactly my locker was, I was drawing a blank. High school was a big deal. These were supposed to be the best years of my life, or so my mother told me. My dad told me that it was actually my college years, but he swore me to secrecy under the punishment of mowed lawns and oil changes on Saturday mornings. My mom was practical, but it was obvious she was one of those popular kids back in her day. Dad, not so much. He was a full-fledged, coke bottle glasses wearing nerd, and proudly so. How those two ended up together, I would never understand.

When my mom finally pulled the van up to the unloading zone, she put the van in park and turned to me with a beaming smile on her face.

“Joshua.” My mother was the only person allowed to call me by my full first name. Everyone else, thankfully, called me Josh. “You’re going to have so much fun,” she told me. Her enthusiasm was infectious but I didn’t have time to reminisce. “These are the best—”

I slammed the passenger door closed and raced toward the front door before she could finish her statement about how great high school was and how amazing it would be for me. I nearly tripped over my own feet in my haste but somehow managed to stay upright by some miracle. My heart was racing by the time I was standing in front of the double doors that led into Lincoln High. I was officially a Lincoln High Squire. I took a deep, calming breath and pushed on the doors.

The door didn’t budge. I pushed again, and again. I tried both doors but they were locked! To my horror, a cute girl with a button nose and dark blonde hair wound in perfect loose curls stepped up beside me. She looked to be my age, or possibly a sophomore but that wasn’t likely. She still had a hint of the boyish figure she was slowly growing out of. She was maybe an inch taller than I was—she had broken the five-foot barrier. I was close, but that milestone had eluded me thus far. She’s definitely a freshman. She didn’t say anything, which only increased my worry about the locked doors. I think she is expecting me to open the door for her, and I can’t even open it for myself! I glanced at her after pushing on both doors again, trying to gauge her reaction to us being locked out. She just stood there, her pink backpack straps hanging over her shoulders, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Are you going to open the door already?” The girl asked, her voice impatient and not at all impressed.

“They won’t open!” I complained and to prove it, I pushed on the doors again.

“Pull.”

“What?”

“You have to pull on the door.” She rolled her eyes, stepped forward and grasped the door handle and pulled… it opened.

I could have died right there from embarrassment. I heard a few people laughing behind me and risked a glance only to find five huge guys in letterman jackets laughing. I moved over to the side, allowing them to pass by me. Not one of the guys stopped or even looked at me as they entered the school one by one.

“Come on squirt, you’re going to be late,” remarked the last guy, who’d stopped and was holding the door open. He was by far the largest of the group. He had to have been nearly seven feet tall and 300 pounds. From his immense bulk, he was definitely a lineman for the varsity football team. He stood there patiently, watching me. “Are you coming or not? The bell’s about to ring. Hurry up.”

I gulped down the lump that was forming in my throat, nodded, and put one foot in front of the other as I walked through the doors into the chaos that was high school.

“Umm, thanks,” I turned and said to the giant.

“Don’t worry about it,” was all he replied as he strode past me into the throng of bodies milling about in the locker lined hallways.

I had just begun moving towards the stairs that led up to my locker on the second floor, but the bell rang and people started to scatter in all directions, like bugs when a light was suddenly turned on. I took off at a run, but that was short lived, in favor of trying to hug one of the walls to keep from getting run over by the older, larger students. I leaned against the wall, my loaded backpack digging into my shoulders as I pressed as tightly as I could to the wall.

When the halls started to empty, I raced down the hallway to my first class. When I finally found the right door, it was already closed and I could see Mrs. Peterson standing at the front of the class with a clipboard in her hands. I gently tried to turn the doorknob but it was locked. The jiggling of the door caught Mrs. Peterson’s attention and she looked in my direction. She strode over to the door and opened it just enough to look at me.

“What do you need?” she asked me. The look on her face wasn’t angry, but annoyed.

“Mrs. Peterson, this is my first period classroom.”

“Who would you be then?”

“Josh Davis.”

Mrs. Peterson looked at her clipboard, scanning the names listed on it and sure enough, my name was there halfway down the page and she tapped it with the end of her finger.

“It looks like you are correct,” she told me. “And late. Don’t let that become a habit, understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Fine, go find a desk,” she said, pivoting to the side to allow me to get past her before she shut the door again.

That’s how my first day went. I was late to every class, except lunch, which you technically couldn’t be late for. I was doing a remarkable job on those first impressions. The one bright side was my photography class. It was the fifth period and directly after lunch. The teacher was a goofy old man named Mr. Watts. He had to be in his seventies by the look of him, with the mentality of a thirty-year-old. He had deep wrinkles on his face, but they shallowed to mere lines when he smiled. He was aging quite well besides that, no hunch or shuffle in his step that I could see. He even had a full head of wild, gray hair. I liked him immediately. He was full of jokes and sarcasm and had the entire class laughing. I knew right away that choosing photography as my one freshman elective was a good decision.

The size of the class was by far the smallest in my schedule. Most of my classes had a minimum of thirty students, some over forty. Mr. Watts’ class only had eighteen kids. Ten guys and eight girls. I only knew two of the kids, both went to junior high with me: Jasen and Tommy Deiter. They were identical twins but thankfully they didn’t try to match their clothes like some girls tended to do. The one surprise was the dark blonde girl who I had made a complete ass of myself in front of before school started. I had learned her name when Mr. Watts took roll call, Laura Satorie. She was tomboyish pretty. She dressed like a tomboy, jeans, and a loose t-shirt, but her hair and makeup were done in such a way that if you even thought of calling her a tomboy, you would be instantly mistaken.

I snuck a couple glances at Laura throughout the class, but she never once looked or acknowledged that I existed. Mr. Watts tried to explain everything we would be doing this semester. The first actual pictures we would be taking were going to be done with a pinhole camera, whatever that was. He also said he would be teaching us about the history of photography and some of the famous photographers of the world. Most of us thought those would be the guys from National Geographic, but it turns out that wasn’t true at all. Sure, those people were good, but the truly great ones were what we were going to learn about. First up on his list, was Ansel Adams.

Before we moved on to his list of photography greats, Mr. Watts wanted to show us the dark room. There was a round door that was painted in thick black paint in the back of the room.

“Follow me,” Mr. Watts announced and we all got to our feet and followed him to the strange round door.

“First things first before we all go in,” Mr. Watts said, looking over all of us. “Who here knows what a darkroom is for?”

Of course Jasen and Tommy immediately raised their arms, their hands waving back and forth to get the teachers attention. In a class of eighteen students, Jasen and Tommy being the tallest by a couple inches, Mr. Watts noticed them right away and nodded for them to answer.

“It’s a room where you develop film.” Tommy hurried to say.

“There isn’t any light so it doesn’t overexpose the film and ruin whatever picture was taken.” Jasen finished.

“You’re both right and wrong,” Jasen and Tommy looked confused by that answer. I was too, frankly. How are you supposed to see what you’re doing if there isn’t any light? “Yes, the darkroom is where you develop film and turn it into pictures, but there is indeed light. Just not light like there is in this classroom. We can’t use normal light bulbs, because it would ruin the undeveloped film, so we use red light instead.”

He pointed out a red switch on the wall. There were two labels on it, up was on, down was off. He flipped it up, so it was in the ‘on’ position.

“Now then, the door is only big enough for two. I will head in first, and then everyone will join me inside. No horsing around.”

Mr. Watts spun the black door and an opening formed. He stepped into the darkened tube and spun the door again and when the opening came back to those of us waiting, it was empty. Jasen and Tommy were next, no surprise, giggling as they turned the door and went inside. I went next with a guy I didn’t know and when we stepped into the darkroom, it was different than I imagined.

“Come away from the door so you don’t get run over,” Mr. Watts called out and I quickly moved into the room and took in the new surroundings.

The room was larger than I thought it would be. There were a couple things that looked like giant microscopes and a long table in the middle of the room with a clear top. Around the outside of the room were all countertops with four different deep plastic looking sinks. There also sets of shallower sinks, or they might have been trays that looked empty. I could smell the distinct odor of chemicals that must be used to develop the film. Back by the door, there were two small rooms that had doors on them labeled booth one and booth two.

“Those would be great make out spots,” I heard someone say and then more than a few giggles.

Due to the darkness, I couldn’t tell who had said it, and I was too focused on what was in the room to think about potential make out spots.

“Listen up, now that we are all in here let me make one thing perfectly clear.” Mr. Watts paused to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “This is not a playroom. There are a lot of dangerous chemicals and breakable equipment in here. If you aren’t careful, or respectful you could ruin everyone’s projects and not just yours in this class, but every class shares this room. Do you understand?”

There was a mixture of yes, yeah, okay, and mhmm’s that all blended together in a mass murmur. Mr. Watts walked us through all the different areas, what they were for and how to use them. He told us he would explain it all in more detail once we started using everything. When we had made a full circuit around the room, he told us to go back to our desks and we all headed back out into the classroom and took our places in our desks. The bell rang right after Mr. Watts tried to get his projector to work, which it didn’t.

“We will start off with slides from Ansel Adams tomorrow!” he called out as the class filed out of the room.

I was waiting in the busy hall for a hole to form in the crowd so I could go against the flow of traffic towards my next class when the Deiter twins sandwiched me.

“Josh! I can’t believe we have a class together,” Jasen told me, his voice excited and he smiled brightly.

“Yeah, it’s so cool,” Tommy added, flipping his hair to get the perfectly level bowl cut out of his eyes. A little gel, or even some hair spray would fix the problem, but the brothers didn’t bother.

“Umm, yeah, it’s cool,” I said, not knowing exactly what to say to the twins.

“Ansel Adams is awesome, I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Jasen announced, his grin not fading even slightly.

“He’s our favorite, and our dad’s too.”

“I haven’t heard of him,” I told the twins. “Guess I will find out tomorrow who he is.”

“Sweet!” The twins chorused together perfectly. It was kind of creepy actually.

I saw a gap open up along the near wall and I took it, leaving Jasen and Tommy behind. I was late to my next class, Algebra, as well as my last class, English. By the time school was done for the day, I was ready to go home; I had a video game calling my name. Or maybe the neighbor boys would want to play football or home run derby. Either way, it would be better than being here at Lincoln High.

By no small mercy, Mom wasn’t there to pick me up after school. It had taken several debates around the dinner table to convince her that I could ride the Star Tran city bus home after school. She was offended that I didn’t want her to pick me up. That, coming from the cool girl who walked home from school her whole life didn’t realize how horrible it would be for me, the fringer, to be picked up by my mommy.

She didn’t understand what I meant by fringer, so I had to explain it. We weren’t rich and I wasn’t athletic enough to be in the cool kids group. At the same time, I wasn’t smart or into fantasy games like D&D or Magic the Gathering enough to hang out with nerds. That left me right in the middle, which I was totally fine with.

Long story short, Dad sided with me and the two of us were able to eventually wear down Mom, grudgingly. When she finally agreed, Dad got me a monthly pass the next day with the city buses. It cost sixty bucks but I got unlimited rides for a whole month, which he called highway robbery, but paid it just the same.

With my pass in my wallet, I headed out the front door of Lincoln High and made the short four block trek to the bus stop. Classes got out at 2:45 and the bus wasn’t scheduled to show up until 3:15. So I had a half an hour to make it before I missed the bus. That eventually turned out to be harder than I thought it would be, but that’s a story for a later date.

When I saw Laura at the bus stop, I got a little excited and that put a little pep in my step. That was until I saw the twins, again, but this time they had two other guys with them. Laura was doing everything she could to pretend the guys weren’t next to her. It was obvious from where I was walking anyways. I ended up sitting on the bench at the bus stop. Laura was on one end and I was on the other. The twins and their two new buddies were busy comparing gaming cards of some kind.

I wanted to say something to Laura, but I had no idea what that would be. Like I said, she had to think I was an idiot and I didn’t want to prove that further by opening my mouth. “It’s better to be thought of as an idiot, than opening your mouth and removing all doubt,” or so my dad said. He loved little sayings like that. He was right on this one though, and I agreed fully. The bus showed up right on time, Laura took a seat in the very back where a bench went all the way across. It was designed for five people, but she was the only person back there and stretched her legs across the seat. I sat in the middle of the bus, just in front of the back door and sat my backpack on the seat next to me. The twins, thankfully, and their little posse, took seats in the very front.

It was the end of my first day of high school. I had survived, which was in doubt at the start, but somehow I managed it. Who knew what tomorrow had in store. Hopefully, it starts off a little better than today. I had to admit I did learn a few things. Firstly, pull the handle on the front doors. Secondly, I liked photography. Mr. Watts’ class was the only one I was looking forward to tomorrow.

Chapter 2

Mom and Dad questioned me all through dinner about my first day of high school and didn’t relent until I told them I needed to go do my homework. Dad raised an eyebrow at me, giving me a questioning look but I just went to my room and shut the door. I didn’t really have homework, and I am sure Dad knew that, but it stopped the questions about girls and new friends Mom kept peppering me with. I mentioned wanting to ride the bus in the mornings, so I wasn’t late to school. Mom quickly brushed that aside before Dad and I could even talk about the merits of the idea. He did give me a sympathetic look and I groaned inwardly. I spent the rest of the night like any other fourteen-year-old… on the internet and playing video games.

My bedroom was pretty standard, as far as bedrooms go: light blue walls, with gray carpet and a good-sized closet that I threw all of my stuff in. My room was furnished with a bed, dresser, nightstand, the usual stuff. I had a couple Husker football posters on the walls and even one of Kelly from Saved by the Bell. It was not just any poster, it was the Kelly Kapowski poster, one with the black suspenders. I have a huge crush on her. I may have had more than a few late-night sessions while imagining what it would be like if she were in my room in real life. I had a computer desk and a new Gateway computer with the biggest monitor I could get that I set up under my bedroom window. The last thing in my room was an old TV that I had hooked up to either my Nintendo 64 or my Sony PlayStation.

I spent the whole night on my computer, and checking out the window to see if the neighbor boys ever came out to play in the lot across from the house. Usually at least three of us would meet there in the afternoons, or just after dinner. No one ever showed up today though.

###

I was having a bout of déjà vu. Sitting in the passenger seat, I was waiting for our turn to stop so I could go inside. The clock read 7:49 and I was going to be late… again. Mrs. Peterson was not going to be pleased at all.

I was ready early in the morning. I ate breakfast with Dad around 6:30 and he was quickly out the door when he finished and left me to do the dishes. It was around 6:50 when Dad left every day, and today was no different.

“Mom, I’m going to be late!” I yelled from the kitchen as I closed the dishwasher.

“I’m almost done, one minute!” I heard her respond.

One minute turned into nearly forty-five minutes. I just sat on the living room couch, my backpack resting between my feet waiting. When she finally emerged, I knew we were going to be late. Even with a police escort, we wouldn’t make it in time.

“Let’s go Josh,” she called out, going into the garage where her van was parked. “You’re going to be late!” Yeah, I know. I already told you that!

I climbed into the van with my backpack between my feet on the floor. I buckled up and was ready to go. Mom started the van, hit the garage door button on the visor and then took another two minutes checking her hair and makeup in the mirror. I was about to lose my mind. I am not too proud to admit I sighed overly dramatically and threw myself back into my seat.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mom’s voice was laced with anger at my little outburst.

“I am going to be late and you are checking your makeup!” I didn’t realize my mistake until after it was all on the table. Or dashboard, in this situation.

“Joshua Davis!” Oh shit.

“Sorry,” I murmured, already knowing I had messed up. “It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.”

Mom didn’t say another word on the drive to school. Not even as we got backed up waiting in the long line of vehicles dropping off their students so they could broaden their horizons in the classroom.

“Bye Mom,” I said as I jumped out of the van with my backpack in my hand before it even came to a full stop.

“Have a good day, honey!” I waved over my shoulder as I ran to the front doors which were held open and into the main floor central hallway.

I was late to Social Studies, but only by a few seconds and I managed to slip in with a group of students who were just walking in as I skidded to a halt.

“Mr. Davis, cutting it close aren’t we?” I heard Mrs. Peterson say as I took my seat. I smiled shyly and got out my notebook and pencil. She didn’t say any more about it, but I definitely had her attention now, and I had a sneaking suspicion I would have it the whole semester. By the time the bell rang signaling it was time to run to my next class, I had three pages full of notes and none of them seemed important.

As the day wore on, I got more and more excited for photography class after lunch. Mr. Watts’ jokes and overall goofiness was fun. He made learning…fun. I hated Social Studies. Mrs. Peterson was okay, but I just didn’t care about the class. Spanish with Ms. Martinez was okay, I guess. If I had the choice, I wouldn’t take a foreign language, but it was a requirement to graduate.

Then there was gym class with Mr. Larson. He was the varsity football coach and was trying to recruit everybody in class to go out for the team, even some of the girls. I was five feet tall and eighty-five pounds soaking wet. I had no business on the football field. I was a twig that would be broken in half and I was smart enough not to put myself in that position. Not that I didn’t like football. I loved it. Especially Husker football on Saturdays. I had been to countless games in Memorial Stadium and I loved every single one.

Lunch was… well lunch. The school was so big that they had converted the old gymnasium big enough to hold two full basketball courts into a cafeteria overflow. The backboards and rims were still mounted on the walls. No one went to the actual cafeteria, they didn’t have pizza like the overflow did. A local pizza joint sold slices of pizza for cheap, one slice and a pop was $2.00. The pizza was good, really good, but you had to get there early if you wanted anything other than cheese. The hamburger or pepperoni went fast.

When it finally came time for me to go to photography, I was almost running through the halls in anticipation. When I got to the classroom I could see the light was on but no one was inside. I figured it was probably okay that I was there a minute or two early and went inside and took a seat at the desk I had chosen yesterday.

“Hello? Is it already time for class?” I heard Mr. Watts say before a strange round door spun open and he stepped out carrying a large worn-out cardboard box full of cameras. He saw me sitting in my chair and he glanced at the clock. I was actually a couple minutes early. “Oh, you’re early. Sorry, I was in the darkroom and didn’t think anyone would be here for a bit yet. You know the class didn't start for a few minute, right?.” I just nodded, looking at the box in his hands quizzically.

“Is it okay that I’m here early?” I asked, getting up in case I needed to go.

“Oh its fine,” he said as he dropped the big tattered old box that looked like it was more tape than cardboard on his desk at the front of the room.

“What’s in the box?” I asked, not sure what I was supposed to say, if anything at all.

“Oh these?” Mr. Watts said, picking up one of the cameras and then grabbing a second as he checked them over. “These are for class. I decided to skip Ansel Adams… for now. I think you all will appreciate his work and his eye for detail more when you know what he had to do to create it. Besides, this is a photography class, how can you have a photography class and not take any pictures!” He crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and I laughed, which made him grin.

“Yeah, you’re—” right. I was cut off by the bell and in moments the small class started filing into the room and taking their seats.

Jasen and Tommy both gave me a thumbs up and a big smile, with each twin showing off a mouth full of braces. At least they didn’t have the headgear anymore. I couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t wearing braces now that I thought about it. Jasen and Tommy sat down in their seats, which were side by side right in front of me. Laura sat down in her seat two desks over to my left. She was wearing dark jeans and a black Metallica shirt with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked amazing, but I wasn’t about to announce that to the class.

“Okay, okay, get situated and settle down.” Mr. Watts announced, standing behind his desk in the front of the room.

The class went silent as everyone got their notebooks and sat facing forward, prepared, and ready to go.

“So, we were going to go over Ansel Adams today, but…” I heard Tommy and Jasen groan. I watched Mr. Watts pick up an old camera from the box on his desk and hold it up like it was a championship trophy. “This is photography class. How can we not take pictures in photography class?”

Everyone was suddenly on the edge of their seats, looking at the old Polaroid camera in Mr. Watts’ hand. Awesome, I am more than ready to start taking some pictures!

“I want every other person to come up and grab a camera, starting with you,” Mr. Watts said, pointing at a girl in the front row I didn’t recognize.

A line formed leading up to the desk, and Mr. Watts handed everyone a camera before sending us back to our seats. I was last in line to get one, and smiled as he handed it to me.

“Now that you all have cameras, I want you to take a picture of the person next to you.” That caught me off guard and I immediately looked to my right where Adam Klemke was sitting calmly jotting down notes. I then looked at the camera in my hands, it was a basic Polaroid camera with a folding flash. I saw the flash out of the corner of my eye and heard the telltale sound of the camera spitting out the picture.

“I didn’t mean to take them now!” Mr. Watts grumbled and walked over to Jasen, who had just taken a picture of Tommy. Both twins looked mortified and Jasen dropped the camera is if it were on fire and it landed hard enough to bounce on the top of his desk.

“Give me that,” our teacher demanded, indicating the picture that was still hanging out of the front of the camera. Jasen quickly grabbed it, yanked it out of the camera and handed it to Mr. Watts who started shaking it to help it develop. When he stopped, he examined the picture for a second, his face scrunched up, showing his age because it made the wrinkles more pronounced.

“This isn’t bad,” he said eying the small picture.

“Thanks!” Jasen beamed.

“Anyone can take a decent picture with one of these cameras.” Mr. Watts held up another Polaroid camera for the class to see. “The idea is to take a great picture. This isn’t it.” He tossed the picture onto Jasen’s desk and I suddenly felt bad for the guy. I saw Jasen and Tommy’s shoulders slump and Jasen’s head drop down. “You got a little excited. Trust me, I understand. Taking pictures should be fun and exciting. Next time, wait until I tell you what we are doing.”

There were a couple laughs in the class, and I could see Jasen’s blushing cheeks and he looked at his twin.

“Now then, are there any more premature pictures coming or are we ready to continue?” Mr. Watts announced to the class and that brought even more snickers and laughter, including from both Jasen and Tommy.

“What I want you to do is stand up with the person next to you and then take their picture.” Everyone hustled to get out of their seats. “Find a place along the wall or wherever you and your partner think is best and take a picture. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but I want you to capture all of them in the frame.”

“We don’t have room for that!” someone, a guy, called out.

“I don’t mean all of them from their head to their toes, but all of them in that the picture you takes captures who the subject is. You will learn more about that later. Now go, take pictures!”

I was standing there looking at Adam who was looking up at me from his seat. From the look in his eyes, he was panicked. Then he started turning red, really red. Followed quickly by a whole lot of sweating. I thought we might need to call the nurse, but Adam finally moved to get up on shaky feet.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Umm, yeah. I think so,” Adam replied and tried to offer a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, let’s just get this over with,” Adam said as he moved over to the wall behind our seats and stood there, waiting for me to take his picture.

“You gotta relax a bit,” I told Adam, who didn’t move a muscle. From the look on his face I wasn’t so sure if he weren’t doing everything he could to keep from taking a dump in his pants.

“Adam, breath man. It’s not that bad.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” he snapped at me. “You weigh what, ninety pound? I am almost 250 and I am only an inch taller than you!”

I had the decency to blush if that was the right reaction. Seeing the scowl he gave me, I wasn’t so sure.

“You look just fine, trust me,” I tried to tell him, but it was obvious he didn’t believe me. Hell, I didn’t believe myself either. “Just try to relax a bit, okay?”

“Fine, hurry up.” I saw him let out a breath and relax a fraction.

I looked through the viewfinder and centered Adam in what would be the picture, taking care to keep most of his body out of the picture and focusing on his broad shoulders, neck, and head. When I had the image I wanted, I pressed the button and the flash went off, followed by the mechanical sound of the picture being pushed out the front. I grabbed the picture, which was still completely gray and shook it like I saw Mr. Watts doing earlier.

“Give me that,” Adam said, taking the camera from my hands. “Stand over there and let me take mine so we can go sit back down.”

I did as he asked and before I knew it, the flash went off again. Adam took the picture from the camera and went to sit down back in his seat. I followed his lead, taking my seat again and looked at the now fully developed picture that was laying on my desk. I was pretty pleased with how it turned out and tried to show Adam, who just grunted, refusing to look at it.

“Once everyone is done, bring your pictures up to the front and put them on my desk.”

The bell rang and it was a mad dash for everyone to put their pictures on Mr. Watts’ desk and hurry out of the room. I took my time, I knew it would make it to Algebra with plenty of time. I was the last one to put my photo down and Mr. Watts looked at it as I did.

“Good job, now get going.” Mr. Watts shooed me from the room.

The rest of the day went great. Well, Algebra was Algebra, there is nothing great about that class. The same went for English but I was so happy with how photography went it didn’t matter to me. When the final bell went off, I hurried to my locker, stuffed my homework in my backpack.

The trip to the bus stop was fine and I made it with almost twenty minutes to spare. Laura was already sitting on the bench, but was working on her homework and I thought it would be a bad idea to interrupt her. I just sat down and waited. Jasen and Tommy didn’t show up with their little group until the bus had shown up. They smiled and waved at me as they all took their seats up front. I took my usual seat in front of the back door while Laura sprawled out on the very back seat. I made it through another day of high school, and it was a better day than yesterday.

Chapter 3

For the next week, the only class I enjoyed was photography and Mr. Watts’ antics in class was one of the biggest contributing factors. I should say I did enjoy Spanish on one occasion. That is because Ms. Martinez wore a short dress with a plunging neckline. I knew she had curves, but when she wore that dress, those curves were almost on full display. Her legs looked long, lean, and her Latin heritage gave her the sun-kissed look that most girls around here would have killed for. Other than that one day, one class, and one dress, it was all about photography for me.

Mr. Watts surprised everyone and taped all of the pictures we had taken with the Polaroid cameras up on the wall for everyone to see. He gave critiques and praises on each and every one. After Mr. Watts talked about the picture I had taken of Adam, Adam seemed to relax and it turns out, we had a lot in common. First and foremost, we shared a love of the Huskers, who had a record of 2-0 so far with dreams of a National Championship still on the table. There was a huge away game against the number two ranked team in the country, the Washington Huskies, this weekend that looked tough.

Mr. Watts explained the class's main project for this quarter. That was, we were all supposed to create our own portfolios using the pinhole cameras we would be making ourselves. We would also have to develop the photographs ourselves in the darkroom. It wasn’t big enough for the whole class to work in there all at once, so he divided up the class right down the middle. Half of the class would get to use the darkroom on Mondays and Wednesday; the other half would get Tuesdays and Thursdays. That should make it more manageable for him to help us if we had questions, as well as giving us all enough room and access to supplies. Adam and I were on the Tuesday-Thursday rotation. I was hoping Laura would share the same darkroom schedule, but it wasn’t to be.

Mr. Watts taught us all about the three stages of developing a picture on direct positive photopaper. Positive photopaper, what? I was confused right away. I thought all pictures were taken on film, which would have to be kept in those little canisters with the caps that blocked out all light, keeping them from getting ruined. That, it seemed, was not the case at all.

Mr. Watts did go on to explain about traditional developing basics. Almost all pictures were taken using film. So I was right. He also explained why when a camera took a picture, the were negative images first. There were a couple different ways to then change it into a positive picture. Like the ones we get back when we drop off our rolls of film to get developed.

One option was to use an enlarger. That would transfer the negative into a positive on the photopaper mounted below. Another option was a contact style. However, we would be cutting the negative step out completely, for now. The only thing about this style, was it was going to invert the image, which didn’t sound too bad to me and fairly simple.

The first stage was the developer. The chemical we would be using would react with a silver gel that was coated on the photopaper. The hidden image would then seem to magically appear as the reaction persisted. I didn’t understand the whole chemistry of it. I just trusted Mr. Watts that it worked.

The second stage was aptly named a stop bath. The whole purpose was to rinse off the photograph so that the developer chemical wouldn’t contaminate the last step in the development process. This was important for us because the school had a limited budget, and we couldn’t afford to keep replacing chemicals if someone somehow skipped steps and ruined the last phase.

The third step was the fix. It was just like it sounded, it fixed the image on the page and made it so it was no longer susceptible to light. It washed away any chemicals still remaining on the page and left you with the image you would have forever.

The last step was the wash, it would remove any of the last remaining fix chemical and kept the picture from yellowing over time. This was the longest step in the whole process, but also the easiest.

Mr. Watts was asked about filters, by none other than the twins in front of Adam and me.

“Filters are one of the tools available to photographers, but we won’t be using those yet,” Mr. Watts answered. “Maybe by the end of the quarter. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

When it finally came time to build our own personal pinhole cameras, everyone was excited. Adam and I worked together on ours. Our thought was if we worked as a team, there would be fewer mistakes, not that either of us knew what we were doing or how to avoid such calamities.

Mr. Watts put up a diagram on the projector and handed each of us two large pieces of cardboard that we were supposed to cut up and use to make our cameras. Now that we were in high school, we were allowed to use Exacto knives instead of having to use scissors for everything like we did in middle school.

We copied the diagram on the board exactly, and even double checked each other’s work to make sure neither one of us made a mistake. The pinhole camera was incredibly simple, so much so I didn’t truly understand how it actually worked. If it did, why weren’t more people using them? When it was all said and done, Adam and I had our two cameras, and we were both proud of how they turned out.

“Let’s see how you two did, shall we?” Mr. Watts said, picking up first mine and then Adam’s camera. He checked to see if they had any cracks or holes that would let in light. The design had a removable lid, and he took that off to put a small flashlight inside. When he was satisfied they would work, he nodded and smiled. “Good job. These two look, great.” Adam and I high fived a bit too enthusiastically, and we broke out laughing in response to the sudden pain in our palms.

It was Friday when the class was done building all the cameras. Mr. Watts told everyone that when we came back on Monday, we would be heading outside to take our first pictures with our very own, handmade cameras. A cheer rose in the room, everyone was excited and ready to test out their creations.

Saturday, I spent the day sitting with Mom and Dad on the couch watching football. Nebraska faced off with Washington and won going away 27-13. The three of us cheered the whole game until our voices were almost nonexistent. We celebrated the win by ordering pizza, and Mom and Dad had a few beers while I was stuck with Coca-Cola. Dad and I talked all night about how we were going to win every game and then the National Championship.

When I got to photography class on Monday, I could hardly contain my excitement to test my pinhole camera. Adam met me at the door almost ten minutes early. I looked at him, surprise written all over my face.

“What?” Adam asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I wasn’t going to answer the question honestly. Adam was a big guy and I thought he would be enjoying lunch to its full potential—not cutting it short to come to class.

“Just surprised to see you here this early.” I shrugged, hoping he bought it.

“You aren’t the only one who can’t wait to try those cameras out!” I grinned and he started to chuckle which did interesting things to his belly. “Can we go in?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” I grabbed the handle, turned it and we both walked inside.

No sooner had we sat down at our table when the darkroom door spun.

“Hello Mr. --” I started to say Mr. Watts, but that’s not who it was.

Two older students came hurrying out of the room. The guy looked like he was probably a senior and he was tucking in his shirt and then zipping up his fly before he noticed Adam and I sitting in the room. The girl looked like a sophomore, at most, and her blouse wasn’t buttoned all the way up. Our jaws dropped when we both got a clear view of a perfect pair of pale breasts with dusty pink areolas and darker pink nipples.

She yelped when she saw us and hurried to button herself up, turning her back to us to hide her exposed state. I thought we were about to take a beating from the guy, but he just winked and started laughing. Holy shit!

“Umm, where is Mr. Watts?” I managed to ask while Adam was still trying to remember how his jaw worked.

“He’s in the darkroom,” the girl answered and giggled.

“You mean…”

“No!” The guy's face morphed from smile to shock at the question. “We had to hide and we were barely able to sneak out without getting caught.”

The two kids hurried out the door as soon as they were presentable. The bigger surprise was a few minutes later when Mr. Watts came out of the darkroom and froze for a split second when he saw us sitting there. There was nothing out of place with him though. The only reason for us to think differently was that hesitation when he saw us. Other than that, he was calm, collected, and completely normal.

“Adam, Josh,” he said calmly, acknowledging our presence. “How long have you two been here?”

“Uhh, not long, Mr. Watts,” I replied, not sure what was going on.

Adam’s eyes couldn’t have been any wider, and he looked pale. The color in his cheeks that had just been there a moment before vanished and he was now white as a sheet. What he had just seen was more than he could handle, apparently. Was Mr. Watts just in the darkroom with those two students? No, that’s ridiculous. I was having a hard time wrapping my own head around it, too.

When the bell rang, signaling the start of our photography class, everyone was already in their seats and raring to go.

“Okay, okay!” Mr. Watts tried to get everyone's attention. “Are you all excited?”

“Yes!” the entire class chorused together. The choir teacher would have been jealous.

“I like it!” Mr. Watts replied. “Grab your cameras and follow me outside.”

“Don’t we need photopaper?” Tommy asked, not moving from his seat next to Jasen.

“I already put paper in for each of you,” Mr. Watts smiled. “Come on, let’s see what you all can do.”

Mr. Watts led us out the front door and up onto a grassy hill. It was open for the most part, except for two large trees. One was a sprawling oak; the other was a large cottonwood.

“This is your canvas,” he announced to everyone. “Whatever you choose to capture is up to you. I expect it to be thought out and for you all to at least make an effort to capture something worth talking about. I will let you know when it’s time to go back in. Get to work!”

Everyone took off as if we all couldn’t wait to get started on the assignment. Some went closer to the school building itself, others went further away. There was no rhyme or reason, they just did it. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, and to make matters worse, Adam left me high and dry.

I stood there on the top of the hill where Mr. Watts had set us all free. Seeing everyone go in their own directions looked like ants scattering when you destroyed their anthill. I looked around, trying to find something that caught my eye, something that I thought would be worth taking a picture of. The thing about pinhole cameras was that you could only take one picture. I wanted to make mine count. The sun was up in the sky, so lighting would be plentiful.

“Are you going to capture something?” Mr. Watts asked. He was standing next to me as he watched the class in action.

“I will,” I answered and turned to him. “I just don’t know what to take a picture of.”

“I understand.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Inspiration will come to you, don’t force it.”

Mr. Watts moved on to check on everyone and left me there, alone. That’s when I noticed Laura. She was sitting under the sprawling oak tree, but not in the shade. The sun looked like it was glowing where it touched her skin. She was focused on something in her lap, which I assumed was her camera. I watched her for a minute and knew she would be perfect.

I moved down the hill, but not closer to her. If anything, I moved slightly further away. From where I ended up, I would be able to catch her entire form, plus that of the trunk of the tree. When I had the spot right, I moved the small piece of black electrical tape that was covering the small hole into my camera. I held it open until the count of six Mississippi and then quickly closed the tape back over the hole. Done.

“Class!” Mr. Watts called out. “Time to go back inside.”

When we got back into the classroom, Mr. Watts told us to put our pinhole cameras in one of the small work rooms in the darkroom—that way, they would be there tomorrow for class when we all would get a chance to develop whatever images we captured. Adam was all smiles as he and I went into the darkroom, placing our cameras in the small room that was already filling up. When we re-emerged into the classroom, we sat down waiting for any last-minute instruction before the bell rang.

“What did you take a picture of?” Adam asked.

“Just the oak tree,” I answered, not wanting to give away my interest in Laura. “You?”

“I tried to get one of the people taking pictures next to the wall,” Adam answered, still smiling from ear to ear. “I think the lines of the brick and the people all huddled around it will turn out great.”

“That’s amazing,” I replied and offered a high five that Adam gladly accepted.

“Yeah, It’s pretty awesome.”

“Everyone, listen up!” Mr. Watts yelled over the hum of the dozen or so conversations going on simultaneously. “Tomorrow is Tuesday. You all know your darkroom rotation so those of you on this side of the room, tomorrow we will develop your pictures.”

There was a collective groan in complaint from the other side of the room and I just smiled. Before Mr. Watts could address the complaint, the bell rang and everyone got to their feet, including me. We didn’t run out of the classroom like we would from every other class though. It was smooth and in an orderly fashion, which was impressive for a bunch of high school freshmen.

That night at the dinner table, Dad started picking my brain about photography class. I was all too happy to talk about it.

“Did you get to use your new camera today?” Dad asked me between bites of grilled barbeque chicken.

“I did,” I answered, wiping my mouth on my paper napkin. “I don’t know how it turned out yet, but I think it will be pretty good.”

“That’s great, Josh,” Mom jumped in, her smile big and proud. “Maybe someday you can take a picture of me.” Little did she know how that would turn out later.

“Maybe if you get good enough, you can take the family photo for our Christmas cards and stuff,” Dad offered.

“Sure, sounds great,” I answered and took another bite of my baked beans. “But before we get too far ahead of ourselves, let’s see what happens with this picture first.”

“He really does take after you, babe.” Mom blew a kiss at Dad.

“Are you ready for the game against K-State this weekend?” Dad asked, changing the subject. He knew I would ramble on about Nebraska football all day and night if I could.

“I think we should win,” I told him confidently and Mom nodded her agreement. “After what happened last Saturday, there is no way the ‘Cats stand a chance.”

“Good,” Dad said. “Your Mom and I were thinking of going to the game Saturday.”

“Really!”

“Yeah, does that mean you want to go?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Do you hear that honey, he wants to go.”

Mom just about spit out her drink at that. We all had a good laugh at her expense before she regained her composure.

“You better get good seats this time. I don’t want to have to sit behind those idiot Andersons again.”

“I know, I will see what I can do,” Dad tried to placate Mom and me as we teamed up against him.

The Andersons were good people, but every time something happened, they would get mad at us for standing up and yelling over their heads. Hopefully, this time we could sit in north stadium. That was the only place we hadn’t had a chance to see a game from yet. Usually we were around the thirty-yard line. Not that those were bad seats, I just wanted to see a game from every view in Memorial Stadium.

When I finally called it a night, it was almost 9:00 and I still had Algebra to do, not including Spanish and English homework. By the time I got everything done, it was almost 11:00 and way past my bedtime. Mom and Dad had come into my room around 10:00 to say goodnight and I was still sitting at my desk plugging away. Now I was yawning constantly, and sleep sounded like something I really needed. The sooner I went to bed, the sooner I got to go to photography and develop my picture of Laura.

I wondered what she would think about it when she saw it…

Chapter 4

After the Huskers’ win in Washington, they jumped up four spots to the #3 in the country. Saturday, K-State came to Lincoln ranked #17 and it was supposed to be a good game. Mom, Dad, and I all showed up early and tailgated with Dad’s friends like we did for every home game, even when we didn’t get to go in to watch it. Tailgating was fun, and the food was amazing. The game was a blast, and the Huskers trounced the Wildcats 56-26. That was more like it! The entire crowd was on its feet from kickoff until the final whistle and the game clock displayed 00:00.

Monday at lunch I couldn’t wait to talk to Adam about Saturday’s game. Not that the game was more important or interesting than finally developing the pictures we had taken. There was nothing keeping us from doing both though. When I got to Mr. Watts classroom early, as was now normal, I found Adam already there in his seat.

“Hey,” Adam said when he saw me enter the room.

“You ready for today?” I waved and asked, sitting down next to him.

“Yeah,” Adam answered. “I am kind of worried about the camera though. What if I didn’t seal it closed or the tape came off the hole?”

“It should be fine; the cameras were in the darkroom the whole weekend.” I think. Did I reseal mine? Shit!

Mr. Watts didn’t come out of the darkroom, nor did anyone else, sadly. I wouldn’t have minded seeing the girl from last week showing her tits to us again, even if it were by accident. The bell rang and the class started filling up, but still no Mr. Watts. I looked to the door into the darkroom and the red colored light switch that was on the wall next to it. The switch was in the off position, meaning he was most likely not inside.

Everyone took their seats. Some people were looking around the room and others just talked amongst themselves waiting for the teacher to appear. It was only a few minutes after the bell had rung that Mr. Watts hurried into the classroom with a piece of pizza hanging from his mouth, a soda in his hand while the other pushed a television on a rolling stand.

Mr. Watts put the pizza on his desk, as well as the can of Coke and said, “Sorry I am late.”

We all replied with some version of, “It’s okay.”

“Let me get this movie going and I will take those of you on schedule for the darkroom so you can develop your pictures from last week.”

“We are just going to watch movies when we aren’t in the darkroom?” Laura asked, a bit of surprise and question in her voice, as if she didn't believe him.

“Yeah, unless you have something better to do?” Mr. Watts answered, looking right at Laura with an eyebrow raised.

No one moved or made another sound after that. Laura looked embarrassed and was blushing furiously. Mr. Watts only needed a couple of minutes to get the movie going, then he took those of us not watching it into the darkroom.

“Everyone, listen up!” Mr. Watts said loudly enough to talk over everyone as we chatted excitedly. “Your cameras are where you left them. Go find yours and bring them out here and put them on this table.” Mr. Watts knocked on the clear topped long table in the middle of the room. “What are you waiting for, get going.”

I rushed to be first, but Jasen and Tommy just beat me to the workroom. Adam was right behind me, shifting from foot to foot not so patiently waiting his turn followed by the rest of the group.

“Did everyone get their pinhole camera?” Mr. Watts asked, holding a pinhole camera in his hands. Everyone nodded in agreement that they did. “Good. As you can see, I have my own camera. I want everyone to watch and learn, this is going to be fun.”

Mr. Watts opened his pinhole camera and pulled out a thick, white piece of paper and set it on the table. He then moved three different tubs from under the table and set them on the top. All three were full of clear liquid that was only an inch or so deep. He also grabbed a pair of tongs with what looked like some kind of rubber or plastic coating on the tips.

“Who remembers what these are?” Mr. Watts asked, indicating the three tubs on the table.

“The developer, the wash, and the fixer,” Adam answered.

“Close enough,” Mr. Watts smiled. “The first here on my left is the developer. The one in the middle is the stop bath and the one here on my right is the fix.”

Mr. Watts paused there to make sure he had our undivided attention. He didn’t need to; we were all intently focused on what he was doing and saying.

“The first thing we do is place the photopaper in the developer face up,” he explained and gently slid the paper into the clear liquid. “Why does it need to be face up?”

“So you can see the image appear,” Tommy answered and you could hear the smile in his voice even if it were hard to see it due to the muted red light.

“Exactly,” Mr. Watts nodded.

He picked up his tongs and gently shifted the paper around under the surface of the water. As it soaked, the faint lines and shapes of an image started to appear as if done by magic. Of course, it wasn’t magic, it was just a reaction from the silver gel and the chemicals in the developer, but it was still amazing to watch something come from nothing right before your eyes. I still thought the whole process was magical.

Mr. Watts picked up the picture with his tongs and smoothly moved it over to the next tub to wash off the developer. It was only in the tub long enough for him to agitate the picture and then he immediately moved it to the fix solution where it soaked again.

“Okay, everyone, come take a look if you couldn’t see it before,” Mr. Watts announced. We all shifted around to look directly at the picture. It was a portrait of an older woman who was smiling, and her eyes seemed to sparkle with joy.

“Who is the woman?” a short, plump girl asked. I thought her name was Amy, but I wasn’t sure.

“Obviously, you haven’t been in the school library,” Mr. Watts chuckled. “This is Mrs. Williams. She is the librarian for the high school. She is kind enough to let me take her picture every year just for this purpose. If you see her, which you should, say thank you to her and make her day. She is always so nervous every time.”

“Now, when it’s done in the fix, you need to the rinse the photograph off under running water and then hang it up to dry on the wires above the table. There are clips attached to hold the picture up and then when it's dry, you have your finished product.” Mr. Watts did just that, hanging the picture up in one of the large metal clips on the wire above. “Any questions?”

There were a few questions that Mr. Watts handled easily and when everyone was satisfied, Mr. Watts sent us in pairs to four stations set up on the counters that wrapped the room. Adam and I worked together, tag teaming the process to make it quicker. We also thought that would limit any mistakes we might have made.

We decided to develop Adam’s picture first and his anxiousness to finally see the picture was almost palpable. He opened the lid to his camera and pulled out the photo paper that was stuck to the back. He looked at it for a second before dropping it into the developer.

“Nervous?” I asked.

“Yeah, a little,” Adam replied, not taking his eyes off the paper as he used his pair of tongs to swish it around slightly. “I think it will be okay though.”

“How’s it going over here?” Mr. Watts said, stepping up behind me and Adam, looking over our shoulder to see the image in the developer. “Looking good so far. It looked like it’s a bit underexposed.”

“No, no, no!” Adam complained and yanked the picture out of the tub and plunged it into the stop bath. In his haste, he nearly sloshed the developer all over the counter.

“Careful, Adam!” Mr. Watts snapped but that didn’t deter Adam from continuing his work. “You should have left that in for a bit longer yet.”

Adam was about to try to put it back into the developer, but Mr. Watts put his hand on his shoulder and softly said, ‘too late now. Just remember this for next time.”

“Shit, Josh!” Adam cursed once Mr. Watts moved onto another part of the darkroom. “I screwed it up!”

“It is kind of dark, but not that bad in my opinion,” I replied, as I bent down to get a better look at the image.

The picture looked pretty good, in my own opinion. The shadows and lines were a bit muddled, making it harder to see some of the separation of the objects in the picture. It had an all-over gray cast that made it look like the picture was taken later in the day instead of just after noon. The brick looked sharp and created really neat lines all across the picture. The only thing breaking them up was the four guys caught in the image. Two of them were taking pictures of the other two who were standing against the wall. If mine turned out that good, I would be tickled pink.

When Adam was done with the fix, he rinsed the picture off and shook it off to get any of the drips off the page. He then turned to hang it over the table next to Mr. Watt’s picture of Mrs. Williams. It was obvious Adam wasn’t happy with it, but he didn’t dwell on it long, thankfully.

“Your turn,” Adam stated as he came back to stand next to me but allowing me to stand in front of the tubs this time.

I was suddenly nervous. Seeing what happened to Adam’s picture had me thinking the same thing was going to happen to me. Would it be overexposed? Underexposed? Could I get the developer right? All those variables were running rampant in my head and kept from taking root in place.

“Hello, Josh?” Adam said, shaking me. “It’s your turn.”

“I know, I’m just nervous, you know?” Adam nodded but gave me a big smile and I relaxed some.

I took a deep breath and let it out before finally opening my camera. As I pulled the sheet of photo paper out, just prior to placing it into the developer I looked to Adam and he whispered, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I replied and slipped my white page into the first tub.

Adam and I just stood there, watching, waiting for the image to begin to appear. It seemed like it was taking forever, and I really started to question myself if I had screwed something up. I used the tongs to move the image around a bit, swirling the solution across the face of the page and the first hints of gray shapes started to appear. Agonizingly slowly, the light grays got darker, and the image really started to show.

I took a glance at Adam who was standing there wide eyed as he saw the sprawling oak with the shape of a girl sitting below it come into focus. The wide trunk of the tree with its deep, rough bark was perfectly in focus. That was because it didn’t move as I took the picture. The girl, Laura, I thought sat still as well, but she must have moved her head at some point just enough to make it look like her hair was caught in a breeze. The way the light hit it, it gave off the appearance of her hair glowing, radiating light.

“How did you…” Adam started to ask but trailed off when I pulled the image from the developer and dropped it into the stop bath.

“What do you think?” I asked him.

“It’s… I mean, it’s awesome. Wow.”

“Thanks,” I replied and picked up the image from the stop bath, shook it slightly and dropped it into the final fix tub.

“Let’s see what you got.” Mr. Watts startled us as he looked over my shoulder at the picture sitting in the stop bath. “My, my...what do we have here?”

“I tried to take a picture of umm… Laura. Not just of her though, I wanted to make sure the oak tree was there too,” I stated, shyly.

“Yes, I can see that,” Mr. Watts replied as he looked at the image. “Go ahead and take that out and hang it up please. I want to get a better look at it.”

I got suddenly self-conscious. Mr. Watts hadn’t given Adam’s picture more than a few seconds of his time before moving on and now he wanted a better, closer look at mine. I did as he asked and pulled the picture out of the fix, rinsed it, and hung it up on the wire next to Adam’s picture. I shouldn’t have done that now that I was thinking about it. The difference in the quality of the two pictures became glaringly obvious.

“Sorry—”

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it,” Adam told me calmly, smiling.

He knew what I was trying to tell him and it didn’t seem to bother him at all. I still felt bad regardless of Adam’s opinion. On the right of Adam’s picture was Mr. Watts’ image, which was obviously high quality, or he wouldn’t have used it as an example for the class. On the other side was mine, which was pretty good, if I had to say so myself. The result was that Adam’s picture looked like a mess.

Mr. Watts stood there, looking at my picture long enough that other students came over to see what he was so enthralled with. Tommy and Jasen came over to check it out as well. Without much subtly, they each hung theirs next to Adam’s and my own. If Mr. Watts cared, he didn’t say anything. Come to think of it, he hadn’t said anything about mine since he was looking over our shoulders. Now that it was developed, it had all of his attention now. He just kept standing there, shifting from one foot to the other, his one arm across his chest while his other hand was holding up his chin.

“How did you get Laura to glow like that?” Tommy asked and Jasen nodded emphatically with him.

“I don’t know, I just took the picture.” I said, shrugging. “The light was pretty good, but when I took it, I didn’t know it was going to do that. I think she moved or something.”

“That would explain it,” Mr. Watts concluded, causing me to jump at his sudden comment.

“Did she move or was it the wind, Mr. Watts?” Tommy asked.

“It could have been either, but if she moved, it was very slight because her face is in total focus.” Mr. Watts reached out a hand and pointed with his finger to Laura’s face. He didn’t touch the picture but was close enough to show what he wanted to. “Look at her eyes, the smoothness of her forehead. The corner of her lips. The whole expression on her face was stunning. Just amazing.”

Adam patted me on the shoulder proudly, “I think it's safe to say you are going to get an A for this assignment.” I grinned and he started chuckling.

“Come on, let’s go see how everyone else did,” Adam announced and our little partnership turned into a group with Jasen and Tommy following right on our heels.

There were only eight students in our darkroom group. The Monday-Wednesday group had ten. I wouldn’t have minded having ten, if one of them was Laura, but if not, I preferred the eight we had. We went to Amy and her partner’s area. They were both done, but neither of them had hung their pictures up to dry yet. The girl next to Amy was just shaking her head at whatever she was looking at.

“Hey Amy, how’d yours turn out?” Tommy asked, not too shy at all to talk to any of the girls. I was right, her name is Amy.

“Mine, not great, but not bad,” she smiled and then looked at her partner. “Alyssa’s is umm…”

“Mine is horrible!” she snapped. “See. I don’t know what happened…” Her picture was completely white.

“You either have a leak in your pinhole camera, or you didn’t close the tape over the hole when you were done,” Mr. Watts said from his spot next to the last group that were apparently having issues with their pictures.

“But you checked the camera!” she said in a pleading, whiny tone.

“Don’t worry, you will get to try again. After everyone learns how to handle this stage of the process, you will get to go take more pictures while the others are in here developing theirs.”

“Thank God!” Alyssa signed.

“Why don’t you six head on out, we will be out in a couple minutes,” Mr. Watts told us, and the six of us who were done headed out into the classroom just as the bell rang.

I wanted to wait and see what Mr. Watts said about my picture, but the bell had rung and I really should get on my way to my next class. I decided I would find out tomorrow, even if I had to ask about it before class started. I smiled at the thought of the picture, it was pretty good. Better than I thought it would be in all honesty. I wondered how Laura was going to react to seeing it. There was no way she wouldn’t see it, knowing that Mr. Watts enjoyed showing off everyone’s work to the whole class.

My chest got a bit tighter at that thought. She is going to hate it. I know it. I should have asked her before I took it… What’s done is done, and now it’s time to pay the piper.

Chapter 5

The next day Adam and I watched a movie in photography class while Laura and her group took their turn in the darkroom. It was cool that we were watching a movie, but by the same token, the class was only fifty-five minutes long so we couldn’t watch the whole thing. Mr. Watts put on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. It is a classic and everyone should watch it at least once, even though it’s just over ten years old.

Ferris was just starting the old Ferrari, that he wasn’t supposed to touch, when the first pair came out of the darkroom.

“You guys get to watch Ferris Bueller’s Day Off!” Jeremy complained. “That’s not fair at all, we had to watch The Labyrinth.”

No one even acknowledged Jeremy’s complaint about the movie selections. I wouldn’t have complained about either of these movies. I was so used to watching Reading Rainbow any time a TV was turned on in school. Having an actual movie to watch, that wasn’t the depiction of a book we were reading on the TV, was amazing.

The next group out of the darkroom was Laura and her apparent partner Steven. Steven was smiling but Laura didn’t look happy at all. In fact, she was eyeing the room as if she were trying to figure out some mystery. I had a good idea what that mystery was, but I wasn’t about to open my mouth and admit any wrongdoing on my part. I tried not to look at her and only focus on the movie. That’s not to say taking a picture of Laura was technically wrong, but it was kind of rude in all fairness and I could understand why she would be mad if she found out by seeing the developed photograph hanging in the darkroom.

The bell rang and I felt an immense relief wash over my entire body. I scrambled to my feet, grabbed my stuff, and rushed from the room before Laura or anyone else could say something to me. I had dodged a bullet, but I knew that same bullet would eventually hit me right between the eyes tomorrow. There was no chance Mr. Watts wouldn’t talk about everyone’s pictures tomorrow. When he did, I was dead.

To make matters slightly more awkward, I suddenly had a bout of confidence when I saw Laura sitting on the bench at the bus stop. I knew it was a mistake, but apparently I was a glutton for punishment.

“Hey,” I said as casually as I could manage as I took a seat on the bench.

Laura actually growled as she looked up and saw me sitting there next to her. She didn’t say anything back. Instead, she stuffed her things in her pink backpack and got up to move further away from me. Well fuck! That’s what you get for trying to talk to her, idiot. How stupid can you be, Josh?

I thought I might make it through the night without having to mention my picture. That wasn’t the case, sadly. Nothing was said until dinner was almost done and Mom had asked if we were ready for dessert.

“So, how did your first picture turn out in photography class?” Dad asked while Mom was clearing the table.

“I think it went okay,” I answered, trying to give just enough information that he would stop there.

“Just okay?” Dad replied, looking at me with a questioning look on his face. “You developed it today, right?”

“Yesterday…”

“Oh, so you already developed it?”

“Yeah, I finished it yesterday in class.”

“Josh, why didn’t you tell us you already developed it?” Mom chimed in from the kitchen as she was slicing and serving up slices of her famous apple pie. “You were so excited about it last week. When do we get to see it?”

“You never did tell us what you took a picture of,” Dad finished, and I immediately felt my cheeks starting to heat.

“I just took a picture of the old oak tree in front of the school.” That Laura was sitting under. They didn’t need to know about Laura sitting under the tree though.

“You took a picture of a tree?” Mom asked, as she sat down and pushed a plate of pie in front of me and Dad.

“Yeah, it’s a cool tree.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other and then at me. Both of them looked like they didn’t believe me, but I managed to pull off the best acting job of my life and just ate a piece of pie. It was delicious but it would have been better with a scoop of vanilla ice cream if I were going to offer any suggestions, but I didn’t. Mom and Dad either bought what I was selling or decided to drop it collectively. Either way, I was thankful. I made myself scarce for the rest of the night just in case.

I kept my head down the following morning and all throughout the day. Lunch was quick. I got there early and grabbed a slice of hamburger pizza and a Sprite and ate it on my way to photography class. I was about four doors down the hall from the classroom when I was joined by Mr. Watts, who was carrying two slices of pizza of his own.

“Excited for class today, Josh?” He asked me as we walked.

“Yeah, but I am a bit nervous to be honest,” I told him and looked around to make sure I wasn’t overheard.

“Why on earth would you be nervous?” he asked me with a genuinely surprised tone in his voice. I shrugged, not wanting to answer him. “The quality of your image was incredible. I even showed it off to a few colleagues if you can believe that.”

“Really, why would you do that?”

“It’s pretty simple really,” he started. “It’s not every day one of the students here in Lincoln High creates a picture or captures a scene like you managed to do. I don’t know if you did it on purpose or were just lucky. Either way, I was so surprised by it I had to show it off.”

“It’s just a picture,” I told him sullenly. If there had been anything in the hallway at that moment, I would have kicked it like a petulant child.

“There’s no such thing as just a picture,” he bristled, grabbed my arm, and stopped me in my tracks. I could feel the weight of his eyes on me but I was hesitant to meet them. “Listen to me, Josh. This is important. Not all pictures that are taken look the same, but there is always something special in each and every single one. There was something the person behind that camera wanted to catch. You just have to know how to look and see it.”

I was embarrassed and tried to play down my efforts despite what he had just told me. If I was honest, he was right. Of course, he was right, he was the photography teacher for God’s sakes. He knows about these things.

“I think I understand,” I replied and looked up to meet his eyes. Mr. Watts smiled his goofy smile and I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling at him. “You know, you would make a great mall photographer for all those kids who hate getting their pictures taken. You always manage to make me smile, even when I don’t want to.”

“Don’t jinx me like that!” Mr. Watts laughed. “One Holiday season of that and I learned really fast that that was not the right path for me. I guess I didn’t learn my lesson completely, because I’m still dealing with whiny kids day in and day out though.”

I shook my head at his joke and chuckled.

“You know, Josh. It’s going to be interesting to hear what your class thinks of your picture, or should I say… portrait?”

“No! No, no, no, please, I’m begging!”

“Too late!” Mr. Watts laughed like a crazy person and hurried the next dozen feet down the hall and into his classroom.

I thought about racing him to the room, but I thought better of it. If I was going to face the firing squad, I was going to do it standing on my own two feet, with dignity. I walked into the classroom only to find Laura already there, as well as Adam and of course, Mr. Watts. Dignity be damned, I needed to run. I needed to save myself. I tried to back right out the door until a piercing look of pure hatred and evil locked me in place. I struggled to move, but there was no use. I was screwed... caught and royally screwed. I should have used my computer to call in sick for me like they did in the movie!

“He took my picture?” Laura asked Mr. Watts and Adam, and both just nodded.

Adam was pale but the brilliant white smile on the old man’s face might have been the scariest thing I had ever seen. Then I remembered Laura was trying to murder me with her eyes, which was by far scarier. Mr. Watts' smile was a semi-close second.

“Why?” Laura demanded, hands on her hips.

Who was it that taught girls to stand like that! I would kill them if I could.

“Uhh, why what?”

“Don’t answer my question with another question, you dweeb!”

“Hey, no more name calling,” Mr. Watts cut in, but it didn’t seem to faze Laura at all.

Adam looked like he was about to go hide in the darkroom or be sick—neither of which would have shocked me just then.

“Answer me, now!” Laura’s cheeks were a deep read and I could see her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were almost as white as Adam’s face.

“I just took a picture. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“You took a picture of me!” Laura stomped her foot when she said me to emphasize her point. She didn’t need to do that; I wasn’t that slow on the uptake. “Why on earth would you think that was okay?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” I told her in a soft voice. I was genuinely scared of what was going to happen next. The way she was acting, I thought she was about to try to fight me. “I didn’t mean for—”

“You didn’t mean to embarrass me in front of the whole class?”

“I think you’re overreacting a little—”

“Shut up, Adam,” she snapped at him, sneering, and he wilted some more. “Just because we were friends in first grade doesn’t mean we are friends now, and definitely not after…this!” Wait, what? Adam and Laura were friends! He didn’t tell me that!

The straw that broke the camel's back was the muffled laugh coming from Mr. Watts. How he thought this was funny enough to laugh at, I don’t know, but Laura heard it. Her head snapped towards Mr. Watts with inhuman speed, but she bit her tongue on whatever it was she was going to say. Instead, she made a weird, scream-growl thing and then stormed out of the classroom and slammed the door.

“Well, that was not at all expected,” Mr. Watts said.

“M…mm…maybe we should… you know, leave and come back tomorrow,” Adam offered, still pale and an instant away from running for his life.

“And go where, Adam?” I asked, my tone laced with sarcasm.

“Home, Kansas, China… any of those would work...” Adam said, his voice serious but still having a slight waver to it due to his fear.

Mr. Watts busted out laughing, a big, full, belly laugh. I tried my damndest to stop it before it started, but I joined in as well. I knew I shouldn’t have laughed; it was my own situation we were laughing at but I couldn’t help it. Adam looked suddenly startled by our reactions, but after a second relaxed and little color returned to his face as he smiled weakly.

When the three of us calmed down, Mr. Watts sat down at his desk to eat his pieces of pizza. I followed his lead and sat at my own desk while Adam just watched.

“Didn’t you get some lunch, Adam?” Mr. Watts asked.

“No, I was late getting out of my last class.”

“Are you hungry?” Adam looked at me and the pizza in my hand.

“Yeah…”

“Come on then, you can have one of mine.” Mr. Watts offered, and Adam raced forward to get it as if it were the first meal he had seen in a month. “Slow down, kid. Take it back to your seat and eat it so you don’t choke on it. Don’t forget to breathe between bites for goodness sake.”

I almost choked on my pizza at that comment from Mr. Watts. I coughed a couple times before I regained control of my breathing. Mr. Watts just shook his head and chuckled to himself before eating his last remaining slice of pizza as Adam and I ate our own.

Through all of the commotion, I never noticed that Mr. Watts had displayed everyone’s pictures on the wall for all to see. The dread returned like a tidal wave and I broke out in a nervous sweat as the bell to start class rang through the whole school. Laura would be back any moment. Maybe I would get lucky, and she went home or ran away. Anything that would have kept her from facing off with me again was preferable. Well, not anything... anything that wouldn’t cause her harm was okay.

As if the universe answered me, Laura was the first to enter into the classroom and glared at me the whole time as she took her seat. Thankfully, the rest of the class showed up too, and that broke her line of sight on me. That in turn, afforded me the chance to face forward and try to ignore the daggers I was sure she was still trying to bore into me with her beautiful eyes. Those same beautiful eyes that used to be friends with Adam.

“Hurry up and take your seats,” Mr. Watts wiped his face with a paper napkin and announced to the class. “Sit down, let’s go. You will all get a chance to take a closer look at the pictures in a minute.”

I glanced at Adam who happened to be looking at me at the same time. When our eyes met, he tried to give me a sympathetic smile to ease my worry, but it didn’t work all that well. Not only was I still worried about Laura, but I was actually mad at Adam for not telling me about his friendship with her.

“Okay, listen up!” Mr. Watts said loudly, and everyone’s attention rushed to meet him. “As you can see behind me, all of your pictures are up on the wall for all to see. Now, we are going to go one by one and talk about the merits of each. Let’s start with this one.”

He started on the right side of the wall and worked his way left. Mine, just so happened to be second from the end. The last one was Adam’s, but the one just to the right of mine was Alyssa’s and then Amy’s before that. The other big surprise was that Mr. Watts had put every picture, regardless of the quality or subject, in a black glossy metal picture frame. That did two things: one, for the lower quality pictures, it made them look worse; two, it made the good ones look even better, more professional in their frames. There weren’t mats or anything, just basic 8x11 black metal frames, but they did look really nice.

Mr. Watts had good and bad things to say about everyone’s pictures and then it came to Alyssa’s white picture. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed she took the photopaper straight from her pinhole camera and didn’t develop it. I knew different though.

“Next up, Alyssa’s photograph,” Mr. Watts announced and there were a couple giggles that broke out. “As you can see, something didn’t go to plan with this one. Do you know what happened Alyssa?”

“No, Mr. Watts. I tried to take a picture like you said, but that is what it turned out to be,” Alyssa answered and put her head in her hands.

“Don’t be embarrassed, things like this happen to everyone and anyone at some point.” Mr. Watts tried to give Alyssa a kind smile, but she didn’t see it because her face was still buried in her palms. “Alyssa had a problem either with the box of her camera, or the tape that covered the hole. Either way, it got too much light which then made the whole page white.”

Pinhole, First Lessons

Fanlon

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