Gene Wolf's Stories - Picture Perfect
This story, at the time, was a more substantial undertaking. I wanted something with a little more body than "Magic." I wanted to develop the characters a little, give the story a number of different characters, each with a personality that the reader could identify with, and a slight twist. You can decide if I have achieved those goals
Picture Perfect
“I'll soon have enough saved up to buy a camera of my own.”, thought Phil Davis as he put the finishing touches on Mrs. McCarthy’s lawn. “Once I have that I"ll be able to shop in earnest!”
Phil Davis was an avid photography buff. No one at Columbia High School, where Phil attended 10th grade, could remember a student ever becoming photography editor of the school newspaper in their sophomore year. Phil pursued everything he did with persistence and determination and his interest in photography was no exception. His talent for composing a photograph and taking a picture that expressed the essence of the subject earned him his current position.
The irony in this situation was that Phil didn’t even own his own camera. The school had only two aging Nikons and they were often in use by faculty members. Phil believed that if he possessed his own camera he could improve the quality of the school newspaper. He would be able to plan the school events he would be covering instead of playing catch as catch can with the two school cameras. The fact that he was the photography editor pulled no weight when signing up for one of the cameras. Faculty had preference!
Phil returned the lawn tools to his toolbox. He had built a small trailer that attached to the back of his bike in which he carried his toolbox, a gasoline powered lawn mower and all the tools he needed to trim lawns in his neighborhood. He had been maintaining lawns for several years and had worked it into quite a business. It was this business that was going to enable him to purchase his first camera.
He was just packing to leave when Mrs. McCarthy came out onto the porch of her immaculately kept victorian home and shouted,
"Philip! Philip Davis! Don’t you dare leave young man. You haven’t finished the job yet and I won’t pay you a single penny until you do!"
Sighing Phil walked back up the sidewalk to where Mrs. McCarthy was standing on her porch, hands on her hips. He had gone through this many times before.
Ever Since Mr. McCarthy died last year it was always the same. Mrs. McCarthy was probably seventy, or so Phil thought, and was quite lonely after the death of her husband. She used these complaints simply as a method of keeping him there a little longer. Phil knew this and really didn’t mind. Mrs. McCarthy had always paid and he knew that she liked the work he did.
"Mrs. McCarthy,", Phil said patiently, “the lawn is mowed, the hedges trimmed, and I"ve edged your sidewalk and the walk to your porch. I am done here and I have another lawn to finish before dark. I have to be going."
It was 2:04 on a Saturday in July as they stood there facing each other. Phil knew he had plenty of time before dark. The next lawn, Mr. Pell"s, would only take about an hour or so and the rest of the afternoon would be his. He just didn’t want to get into an argument with Mrs. McCarthy which would last 15 or 20 minutes and would end with her telling him "Alright, it does look pretty good I guess."
She may have sensed his reluctance to argue this particular day as she said to him, "Alright, it does... No. Philip the lawn looks just fine. You"ve done a good job. You always do. I don’t believe even Edgar, my late husband, couldn't' have done a better job."
She turned to go back into the house, the sun making her silver hair shine like a halo, when she paused. She turned back to face Phil and said hopefully, "Philip, I"ve just taken a batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. “Would you care to have a few with a big glass of cold milk before you leave to work on your next lawn? It is getting warm outside and the milk will do you good.”
Phil hadn’t expected this. Oh, he had enjoyed Mrs. McCarthy’s cookies many times. She made the best cookies he had ever tasted. Even the peanut butter cookies that he normally couldn’t stand were delicious the way Mrs. McCarthy made them. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have the time either.
“It is getting warm.” Phil said with a smile, “And I haven’t had any of your cookies in a long time. You know chocolate chip is my favorite!”
“It"s settled then!” said Mrs. McCarthy beaming. “You go on into the living room and I’ll bring your cookies and milk right in.”
Phil hurried up the steps of the porch and held the solid oak door open for her as she entered the house and headed for the kitchen. Phil closed the door behind him and headed into the living room.
The walls of the living room were dotted with pictures. Some were photographs of a wedding ceremony that Phil thought was Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy. These photos were black and white and showing their age. If they were of Mrs. McCarthy she was a beautiful woman back then. Other pictures seemed more recent. Some photos showed children throwing sticks into a pond. Others were of children running through a field filled with black eyed Susans.
"My Grandchildren." said Mrs. McCarthy entering the room and noticing the pictures at which Phil was looking. She was carrying a large tray upon which was a plate full of chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of milk. The room was much cooler than outside but droplets of moisture still formed on the outside of the glass. "Edgar took them a couple of years ago when we visited them in Old Town, Maine." she said as she set the tray down on a table in front of the sofa. "Come on over here and have some of these cookies." she said. "Lord knows I can’t eat them all."
Phil left his study of the photographs and sat down on the sofa. Thanking Mrs. McCarthy he picked up a cookie and began eating. Mrs. McCarthy could make a great cookie and these were still warm! He sipped the milk. Chocolate chip cookies always made him thirsty. Mrs. McCarthy was looking at the wedding pictures herself now. She said to no one in particular, "Those pictures were taken almost 50 years ago. My wedding day. The most wonderful day of my life. Edgar and I were married on July 24. A terribly hot day, but wonderful all the same." She was quiet for a few seconds then turned to face Phil as though waking from a daydream. "Well young man, how are the cookies?" she asked smiling.
“Mrs. McCarthy,” Phil said honestly, “I swear you make the best cookies in the world.” She smiled all the more at that. As Phil finished the last of his milk he said, “I really do have to be going. I’ve got to finish Mr. Pell’s lawn and I want to get it done early. I plan to do some shopping for a camera today. I’ve saved enough from my lawn business, from what’s left over after my mom takes the share for my college fund, to get a good one.”
Phil and his mother had reached an agreement when Phil began his lawn care business. She was concerned that it would take time away from his school work or that he would waste the money that he earned. As long as his grades stayed up, Phil was a “B” student, he could work in the neighborhood maintaining lawns. There was one additional condition. Half of all the money he earned, before expenses, had to be placed into a savings account to be used for college.
Phil had agreed to the conditions then. There were times however that he regretted his decision, especially when there was something he really wanted to buy. All of the expenses of maintaining the business had to come out of the money left after the college portion was placed in the bank by his mother. That left precious little for himself.
He did realize the wisdom in his mother’s conditions. The bank account was slowly growing and by the time he was ready for college it would be a fair sum. It certainly wouldn’t pay his way through college but with scholarships (he hoped!) and student loans he should be able to put himself through college.
Phil got up from the sofa and made his way to the door. Mrs. McCarthy followed. He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. The heat of the day was building and it seemed to cover him like a blanket compared to the coolness of the house. “Thank you again for the cookies.” Phil said looking at Mrs. McCarthy who was holding the door open.
“You’re quite welcome Philip. You come back anytime. And by the way,” she said as he turned to go, “You did do a fine job on the lawn. I do appreciate it.” She smiled one last time and closed the door. Phil stood there for a second then walked to his bike quite pleased. Mrs. McCarthy had never complimented him outright like that before. Today she had done it twice! It was a good feeling.
He peddled his bike over to Mr. Pell’s house, the trailer clattering noisily behind him. The sidewalk over which he rode was not level. Some portions were slanted at angles, pushed up by roots from trees planted in yards years before. As he rode over these his bike would bound up, then down suddenly. He had quickly learned to stand on the peddles of his bike when going over these areas. This avoided uncomfortable bruises and the inability to sit comfortably for days afterward.
He finished with Mr. Pell’s yard in record time. The heat of the day not bothering him at all. His mind was completely on the camera shopping he was going to be doing that afternoon. When he had finished collecting for the work he had done this week he would finally have over $500.00 to spend on a camera. He had saved that amount over many months just for the purpose of buying a camera.
It was just after 4:00 when Phil returned home. Unhooking his trailer from the bike he put it in the garage in the spot his dad had reserved for it.
He went into the house through the door which led from the garage directly into the kitchen. His mother was there preparing supper. The aroma of spaghetti sauce was unmistakable. His mother was standing in front of the stove stirring the contents of a large pot from which steam and the aroma filling the kitchen was coming.
“Are we having spaghetti tonight?”, Phil asked hopefully. They didn’t have spaghetti very often and it was one of his favorite meals.
“Yes we are.”, his mother said smiling. “I thought you might enjoy it, especially tonight.” She had known that Phil was going to reach the goal of $500.00 he had set for himself today and she had planned this meal in order to celebrate. She knew the $500.00 was an arbitrary figure Phil had set for himself but he said he couldn’t shop for a camera unless he had at least that amount. She had kept track of his money for him, not that she needed to, and knew that today’s collections would put him over that figure.
“You get yourself into the bathroom and get cleaned up.”, she gently scolded. “You’re a mess. I won’t have you go through my house in that state!”
He laughed. His 5’7" frame that belied the 6’2" he would eventually become was covered with grass clippings. The knees of his jeans were stained green from where he had knelt to trim the grass from the edge of sidewalks, and his sneakers were also stained green and covered with clippings. He knew he was a mess.
“And go back into the garage and take those sneakers off!”, his mother said in mock seriousness. “I don’t want you tracking half of the neighborhood’s lawns into my bathroom.”
Again Phil laughed as he went back into the garage to remove his grass stained sneakers. He took them outside to knock out the grass that had managed to work its way inside and took off his socks that were also covered with grass. He knew his mother would send him back out if he entered the house with them on so he figured doing it now would save him a trip.
He walked back into the kitchen and passed his mother’s silent inspection as he made his way to the bathroom carrying his socks. He placed them in the clothes hamper then stripped off the rest of his clothes and placed them in the hamper too. He quickly showered and washed his hair. He was amused to see small blades of grass make their way through the soapy river to the drain as he rinsed his head.
Having completed his shower, and feeling much cleaner, he wrapped himself in the oversize towel hanging next to the shower and made his way to his bedroom to get into some clean clothes. He hadn’t bothered to dry himself so drops of water fell to the floor on the entire journey from the bathroom to his bedroom. He knew he would hear about it if his mother happened to notice. However on a hot day like today the water evaporating from his skin felt great and it was worth the risk of a scolding.
His room was tidy, his mother insisted on that, and perhaps more organized than a typical 15 year olds room would be. On his desk was a notebook filled with dates and places of events covered for the school newspaper the year before. This notebook traveled with him every time he covered any event. He kept track of the event, the shots he took, the names of the individuals in the photographs, if they were to be mentioned in an article, and copies of completed release forms. He requested people to sign these forms in order to use their pictures in the paper. Everyone thought it was an unnecessary procedure, but you never knew.
The walls of his room were covered with pictures of the school, pictures of action shots of the football team of which he was a member, pictures of the cheerleaders, and other shots that had nothing to do with school. He liked the pictures of the cheerleaders best. If someone looked closely at them they might notice that one girl appeared in every picture. He liked Cathy Danis but would admit it to no one.
He dressed quickly and returned to the kitchen where his mother still worked preparing supper. “Mom,” he said entering the kitchen, “I’m going down to the ShutterBug to take a look at some of the cameras there. I want to price some of them before making a decision.”
The ShutterBug was one of the local camera stores where Phil bought all of his film. The school provided him with bulk black and white film, Tri-X and Plus-X, for school assignments, and a small amount for his own use. All color film he bought at the ShutterBug. He had his color film processed there as well. While he had access to the school’s darkroom for processing black and white film, the school didn’t purchase the chemicals necessary to process color film.
Phil had done quite a bit of business with the ShutterBug and he felt that Mr. Jenson, the owner, would give him a good deal on a camera purchased there.
“Supper is going to be in just over an hour.” his mother reminded him. “Be back before then.”
“I will.” he assured her. Phil gave her a quick kiss on the cheek on his way out to the garage. He got on his bike and headed to the ShutterBug.
Peddling his bike was much easier without the additional weight of the trailer. Quieter too. He nearly flew over the sidewalks on his way to the camera store.
On the way Phil had to pass by several clothes stores, the local hardware store, the local mom and pop grocery store, and a deserted storefront that used to contain the video arcade. The arcade had moved when the new mall was built outside of town. The arcade had located inside the mall where there was more space and more pedestrian traffic. The storefront had been deserted since then.
Phil was surprised when he reached the old location of the arcade. The big picture window, previously dusty and streaked by rain, was now sparkling clean. On the glass in place of the large garish painted letters which once read simply ARCADE, was neatly painted lettering which read FOLLISS’ CAMERA.
Stopping his bike next to the plate glass window, Phil held his hand up to the glass and looked within the store. He was surprised to see neat displays of cameras and photo supplies. Phil got off of his bike and parked it on its kickstand then went inside.
As he opened the door he heard the small bells attached to the door jingle, announcing his presence to anyone inside. There wasn’t anyone behind the counter, which wasn’t unusual in a small town store, so Phil walked over to a display case to look at the cameras there. He spent a few minutes looking at the cameras in the display cases.
“Can I help you?” asked a friendly voice. Phil turned to see a tall man just coming into the store through a doorway leading to a portion of the shop in the back. “Sorry to make you wait,” said the man apologetically, “but I was in the process of arranging the inventory in the back.” With a motion of his thumb he indicated the doorway through which he had just come.
Phil looked at the man for several seconds before replying. The man was tall and had very angular features. His hair was jet black and cut close to his head. He had an accent to his speech that Phil had never heard before. He knew several foreign exchange students at school but this man’s accent was completely different than any he had previously heard. As he stood there contemplating the storekeeper he was also aware that the room was a little too warm to be comfortable.
As though he had read Phil’s mind the storekeeper broke the silence by saying, “Don’t let the heat bother you too much. I just opened the shop this week and the air conditioning isn’t working yet. Luckily I haven’t stocked any film so it can’t be ruined. Now, how can I help you?”
Phil was a little bit uncomfortable as he replied, “I’m planning to buy a camera and I was on my way to the ShutterBug to price a few when I noticed your shop.” He added, “I was a little surprised to see a camera store here. I decided that since it was on my way I’d stop in to see what you had.”
The storekeeper smiled. Phil felt a chill run through him in response to that smile, even in this heat. He thought it must be the sweat. He could feel it forming on his forehead and running in a little trickle down his back.
“You"ve come to the right place!”, the storekeeper said confidently. “I don’t carry an extensive line, well actually I carry only one type of camera, but you won’t find another like it anywhere! The camera is called the Follis 138,” the storekeeper continued in his unfamiliar accent, “and it takes pictures that are beyond compare.” Motioning to a counter in the front of the store the storekeeper said, “Come on over here and see for yourself.”
Walking behind the counter the storekeeper reached into a drawer and produced a stack of pictures that he spread out over the counter top. “I took these pictures myself.” he said helpfully, “Take a look.”
Phil looked at the pictures and was stunned. The quality of the pictures was beyond anything he had ever seen before. One photo showed a scene from a beach where the waves were lapping the sand. The photo appeared so real Phil felt he could reach into it and take a handful of sand. He thought he could almost imagine the sound of the waves against the beach.
He looked at another of these photographs, unaware now of the heat in the store. This photo showed a scene of winter desolation. The snow was blue white. Cold dunes made their way into the distance. Phil felt as though he could feel the chill air and hear the icy wind tearing at the dunes.
He examined picture after picture with the same stunned awe. Here a primeval forest scene, here what appeared to be a medieval castle. Another showed the storekeeper himself laying on an inflatable raft and floating in water so blue and at the same time so clear as to be unreal.
The storekeeper smiled when Phil got to the picture of himself and said, “Well, I didn’t take all of these. That one was obviously taken by someone else. But all of the rest were taken by me using nothing but the Follis 138.”
“What kind of film were you using?” Phil asked almost absently as he studied the rest of the pictures. “There is no grain in any of these pictures. The edges of the subjects are crisp and clean. The depth of field is astounding.” Phil was looking again at the picture of the storekeeper floating on a raft in the water. Not only was the image of the storekeeper crisp and clean but through the water he could see fish and on the sandy bottom shells who’s images were just as sharp.
The storekeeper again smiled his unnerving smile and said, “Ah, that’s the beauty of this camera.” indicating the cameras in the display case. “It uses any color or black and white 35mm film, not that that’s unusual.” and he laughed a bit. “The real beauty of this camera is that the pictures you take will be of this quality regardless of the film you use!”
“That’s impossible.” Phil objected. “Tri-X is much grainier than is Plus-X and the pictures will show it regardless of the camera used.”
“Not so.” corrected the storekeeper, “I don’t fully understand all of the technical details behind the camera, but it senses the film type you are using and adjusts accordingly. I guarantee that the pictures you take, regardless of film used, will turn out exactly like these.” Again he smiled that disconcerting smile.
“That is really hard to believe.” Phil stated flatly. He knew that he didn’t know everything that there was to know about photography. He was also aware that camera manufacturers were coming out with new, even more sophisticated models all of the time, but he had never heard of a camera that could do what this strange man claimed this one could. He again looked at the photos spread out on the counter. Their quality was hard to ignore.
“Are you telling me that this camera is fully automatic and to get this kind of quality I have to do nothing?” Phil asked.
“Oh, absolutely!” replied the storekeeper. “All you have to do, as the ads say, is point and shoot! No aperture adjustments, not shutter speed settings, no focusing, nothing! Believe it or not every picture you take will turn out just as good as these.”
Phil was still not convinced that this camera could be as good as this man claimed. He thought that there had to be a catch. With that thought in mind Phil asked, “What does this camera cost?”
“Ah,” said the storekeeper smiling. If a cat could smile you might expect the same smile when it had cornered a mouse. “perhaps that is the best part. The Follis 138 costs only $500.00.”
Phil was again stunned. "Five hundred dollars!” It was everything he had worked for, all summer long, almost to the penny. Phil again looked at the photographs on the counter. The beach and water photo looked more real than ever.
The storekeeper just stood there smiling in the heat. After a few seconds he asked, “Do I have a sale?”
Phil thought for a second then reluctantly said, “No, not today. I didn’t bring my money. Besides, I want to talk to a few people before making a purchase.”
The storekeeper nodded then said, “When you decide come on back. I will be here.” Then without another word he walked to the doorway to the back room and disappeared through it. Phil was left as alone as he had been when he had entered the store. Glancing at his watch Phil saw that he had spent over an hour talking to the storekeeper. He was going to be late for supper!
He quickly left the store. Running to his bike the air felt almost cold compared to the heat that was within the camera store. He raced home as fast as he could. He quickly parked his bike and ran into the house. His family was just sitting down to the supper table.
His mother gave him a disapproving look and said “Go to the bathroom and wash up for supper.”
Phil did as he was told. As he was washing his hands he looked in the mirror and was a little shocked. He looked as though he had just gone swimming with his clothes on. Every piece of clothing was soaked with sweat and his hair was matted against his head. No wonder his mother had looked at him so. He took one of the hand towels and dried his hair then combed it. There was little he could do about his clothes before supper.
He went back to the table where his family was enjoying the spaghetti and sat at his usual place. His mother served him a plateful of spaghetti and covered it with a generous serving of the sauce that she had been cooking all day.
Phil thanked her absently and began eating. He really didn’t taste the food. His mind was on the camera and the pictures he had seen at the shop. How could a camera take such pictures with any type of film? How could a camera adjust the depth of field to cover such a range as was evident in the ocean picture. He remembered the image on the sea shell on the ocean floor and the shopkeeper floating in the water above it. Both images had been crystal clear and sharp!
“Philip!” his father demanded, interrupting his reverie. “Your mother is talking to you!”
“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. I was just thinking Mom, Dad.”
“Well did you see any cameras you liked at the ShutterBug?”, his mother asked.
“Never made it there.” Phil replied. “There’s this new camera store where the old arcade used to be. I stopped in there. By the time I got out I had to come home.” He added a little sheepishly, “I was a little late.”
“You looking at anything in particular?” asked his father.
Phil’s father was an accountant and didn’t share his son’s enthusiasm for photography. He was glad his son was into something creative and he knew his son had a talent for photography. However he didn’t know one type of camera from another. His question was more to show that he was interested in his son’s activities than to discuss specific camera makes and models.
“Well I saw this one camera Dad.” Phil began, and described what had taken place at the new camera shop. He decided not to mention his impressions of the store owner.
“Five hundred dollars is a lot of money to spend on a camera you know nothing about.” his father advised. “I suggest you wait until you’ve learned a little more about it before you buy it. Is there anyone else you could talk to who might know more about it?”
“Hmmmm. I hadn’t thought about that Dad.” said Phil thoughtfully. “I could talk to Mr. Riley on Monday. He’s probably teaching a summer school class. Someone is always failing physics and it’s a graduation requirement.”
When Phil finished his supper and asked to be excused. He went straight to his room and sat cross-legged on his bed staring at the pictures on his wall. How pale these now seemed compared to those he had seen this afternoon. How good Cathy would look if he could take her picture with the Follis 138. The more he thought about it the more he convinced himself that he wanted the Follis. He was determined to talk to Mr. Riley and get his advice before making any final decision. Still....
Sunday crawled by. Phil got up early and worked on three more lawns that day but his heart wasn’t in his work. He kept remembering the pictures he had seen. He’d look at a bed of flowers and wonder how they would look in a picture taken by the new camera. He’d see a bird in flight and wonder the same thing. Sunday finally ended.
On Monday morning Phil awoke early, went over to Mr. Harris’s house to mow his lawn and when he had completed his work there took his bike, trailer and all, to the schoolyard. He went into the all too familiar building and to the physics lab where he hoped Mr. Riley would be found.
Stephen Riley was there trying to get across the coefficient of friction to a group of three students. Phil poked his head into the classroom and made a quick motion with one hand indicating the laboratory. Mr. Riley nodded that he understood and continued with his lecture. This was a signal that they had used many times in the past. The schools darkroom was located just off of the physics laboratory and Phil needed permission to use it. As photography editor he actually didn’t need permission, but it was school policy that someone had to know whenever anyone was using the darkroom. This policy came about after he had lost track of time last year while working in the darkroom and was locked in the laboratory overnight.
The principle wasn’t too upset over the whole episode but his mom had been hysterical! No one had known where he was until the janitor had let him out of the locked physics lab the following morning. By that time the police were looking for him and his mother was certain that he had been kidnapped. He was grounded for two weeks for that! It was Mr. Riley that had suggested this notification scheme and it satisfied all concerned. If Phil was going to be working late in the darkroom Mr. Riley would let the night janitor know. Before he locked up, the janitor would stop by the lab and tell Phil it was time to go. It worked well for everyone.
Phil had been waiting in the laboratory for about half an hour when Mr. Riley came in. “I thought you were going to be working in the darkroom.” Mr. Riley said as he saw Phil sitting at one of the laboratory benches.
“No, actually I wanted to talk to you.” Phil told him. Mr. Riley had taught Phil everything about photography that he now knew. Darkroom technique and safety, developing, printing, cropping, air brushing and everything else he had learned from Mr. Riley.
“Well, I’m done for the day.” Mr. Riley said sighing, “I hope those kids pick this stuff up this time. They won’t graduate without it.” He then added, “I just hate to see a kid not graduate because of what could be my failure to get something across to them. Now, what do you want to talk about?”
Phil again explained the new camera and the pictures to Mr. Riley. He had told him that he had practically made up his mind and that he had the money with him right now. After he left the school he was planning to head to the camera shop. Mr. Riley urged caution.
“I know you`re excited about the camera but I’ve never heard of that make, though the name does sound familiar for some reason. Nor have I ever heard of a camera capable of taking pictures of the type you describe. I’d wait a few days before making the purchase. Something that sounds too good to be true usually is.”
Phil thought to himself, “First my father and now Mr. Riley. They both don’t want me to buy the camera. Hell, they haven’t even seen it or those pictures!” Aloud he said, “Thanks Mr. Riley. I"ll think about it.”
Mr. Riley replied, “You do that Phil. I’ll tell you what, I’ll check into the literature I have and see what I can find out. The name is familiar but I don’t know why. Stop back in a couple of days and I’ll let you know what I find out.”
As Phil was leaving the lab he said to Mr. Riley, “Thanks again. I’ll stop back in a couple of days.” He left the school to where he had parked his bike and trailer. On the way out of the school building he had decided that he couldn’t wait to own that camera. He was going to go back to the shop and purchase it today.
He headed downtown to the camera shop, parked his bike so that the trailer wouldn’t interfere with anyone walking by and went inside the shop. The bells attached to the door announced his entry again as he opened then closed the door. The heat inside the shop was as bad as it had been two days previous. Phil was surprised at this since the weather had cooled off Saturday night and it was no nowhere near as warm as it had been on Saturday afternoon.
The storekeeper came though the doorway leading to the back and said cheerfully, “Good Morning young man. Back I see. Have you decided on purchasing the camera?” All the time he was smiling that disconcerting smile.
Phil was again uneasy as he said, “Yes I have.” He then quickly asked, “Can the camera be returned if it isn’t all you claim it is?”
“Oh, by all means.” assured the storekeeper. “If this camera doesn’t give you pictures just as good as these,” he indicated the pictures still lying on the counter top, “you bring it right back. I’ll refund every penny, no questions asked.”
“You’ve got a deal!” said Phil excitedly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the $500.00 he had brought along with an additional amount sufficient to cover the sales tax.
“Oh, this is unnecessary.” said the storekeeper after having counted the money Phil had handed to him. He handed Phil the amount Phil had given him to cover the sales tax and said, “My price was $500.00 even. Put the remainder in your pocket to purchase film.” He was smiling as he counted the money as though enjoying a private joke.
Phil was surprised that he didn’t have to pay sales tax. You paid sales tax on almost everything in New York! He didn’t argue further however. He put the money back in his pocket and waited.
“Ah, your camera.” said the storekeeper apologetically. “I had almost forgotten.” Reaching into the display case he removed a box containing the Follis 138. He opened the box and checked the contents and asked Phil to do the same. The box contained an instruction booklet, the camera, and a black carrying case. “Here you go. Enjoy your pictures.” he said as he slid the box and it’s contents across the counter to Phil.
Phil excitedly closed the box and said, “Oh, I will!”, and quickly left the store. If Phil had turned around he might have been disturbed to see the grin on the storekeepers face.
Carefully maneuvering his bike and trailer another three blocks, Phil made his way to the ShutterBug. He walked inside, carrying his purchase, and made his way to the display counter at the back of the store. The ShutterBug, specializing in photography equipment and supplies, displayed photographs on every wall. On this side, where Phil was walking, was a winter theme. A skier was in mid-air, caught in the instant he hurtled from the top of a large dune. Next to this was a photo of three skiers, taken from above, making snake pattern traces as they skied down a mountainside.
“Wait until they see my photographs.” Phil thought to himself. He patted the box he was carrying. “It will put these to shame.”
He made his way to back and set his purchase on the counter. He looked at the man behind the counter and said, “Mr. Jenson, I’d like a roll of Kodacolor 135-24, ASA 100, and a roll of Tri-X Pan film, ASA 400, please.”
Mr. Jenson, the owner of the ShutterBug, was familiar with Phil having seen him in the store many times before. He looked at the box Phil had set on the counter top and asked, “Buy a camera Phil?”
Phil said proudly, “Yes. My first one. Bought it just today at the new camera store where the old arcade used to be. Need to get some film though. The store hadn’t stocked any yet.”
“New camera store huh?”, said Mr. Jenson. “I’m not aware that another had opened up. Well, the competition might do me good.” he said laughing. “What did you buy Phil?” he asked genuinely interested, “Mind if I take a look?”
“No, go ahead Mr. Jenson.” Phil said, pleased to have an adult take interest in something he himself enjoyed. Phil opened the box the camera was setting in and slid it across the counter top to Mr. Jenson.
“A Follis ay?” asked Mr. Jenson. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it before.” Looking at the camera more closely Mr. Jenson said, “Phil this camera has no controls, no way to set the aperture or shutter speed.”
“I know.” replied Phil. “It doesn’t need them. It’s fully automatic. All I have to do is load the camera and shoot the picture.”
Placing the camera back into the box Mr. Jenson said, “Well good luck with the camera son.” He then added with a wink, “You know I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t buy a camera from me. Would have given you a good deal too.”
Phil blushed a little with embarrassment and said, “Well I would have bought the camera here, you know that, but I got such a good deal and the pictures this camera takes are so incredible I had to buy it.”
“I understand.” said Mr. Jenson as he retrieved a roll of black and white and color film from the honeycomb display behind him. “Here’s the film you wanted, and here,” Mr. Jenson selected another roll of film from the display case and placed it with the other two. “I assume you’re testing the camera with both black and white and color film. This roll is on the house. It’s 1600 ASA color film. If you want to test a camera thoroughly test it through the extremes.”
“Thanks Mr. Jenson, I do appreciate that!”, Phil said honestly surprised. “I’ll be back in a day or two to have this film developed. You still have same day processing don’t you?”
“Oh yes.”, said Mr. Jenson collecting the money for the two rolls of film he had rung up on the register as they talked. “Bring in the film before noon and you’ll have your pictures ready before closing time.”
Taking the bag containing the film and carefully picking up the box containing his camera Phil made his way out of the store. He was now ready to shoot pictures with his new camera. HIS new camera!
Phil made his way carefully back home. The camera was placed in the wire basket in front on the bike. Phil took his time, avoiding most of the bumps and walking his bike around the worst of them.
When he got home he called the customers on his list that he had scheduled for the next two days and told them he would not be coming on the regular day. He would catch them up during the weekend or the following week. He then took his new purchase to his room, closed the door, laid on the bed with the box next to him and began reading the instructions.
The instructions were brief. They were more of a sales pitch than instructions. After showing how to load the camera the instructions touted the camera’s ease of use and the quality of pictures that could be expected.
Phil removed the camera from the box, loaded the black and white film according to the directions, then put the camera in the carrying case provided. He put the other 2 rolls of film in the pouches provided in the camera carrying case. He was ready to shoot his own pictures!
Phil grabbed his notebook from the desk and went downstairs to find his mother. She was in the living room sewing the pockets in a pair of his jeans. He had somehow managed to put a hole in them last week and had told his mother about it.
“Mom, I bought a camera. I’m going out to shoot some pictures. I’ll be home in time for supper.” Phil told her.
Phil’s mother stopped her sewing and looked at Phil with a little concern. She knew better than to say anything about how he spent his money, he worked hard for it and it was his. She simply said, “I hope you got a good deal. Please try to be home on time tonight.”
Phil smiled and said, “I did. And I will, promise.” He walked over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. He then hurried outside.
Phil wasted no time. He selected subjects the he thought would test the capabilities of the camera. He photographed dark subjects in a bright background, colorful storefronts, canopies, and anything else he thought might make an interesting photograph. After he took a photograph he logged each subject in his notebook. He noted the time the picture was taken and the subject. He had no idea of the shutter speed or aperture settings so he left those notations blank. He even made the entries of the pictures he shot of Pam Fletcher!
He had been so intent on taking pictures and making notes that he hadn’t noticed that he had made his way to her house. She was outside dressed in a halter top and shorts and was raking the lawn. He felt a little like a peeping Tom as he photographed her through the hedges surrounding the schoolyard adjacent to her parent’s house. If she had seen him with his camera she would have immediately gone into the house. His heart was pounding as he snapped shot after shot. “I can’t wait to see how good these look!” he thought to himself.
It didn’t take long for him to shoot the three rolls of film. He made his way back home, placed his camera and notebook on his desk and went back downstairs. It was only 3:00 pm and he wanted to get the film to Mr. Jenson before 5:00 pm, closing time.
He couldn’t find his mom so he left her a note and placed it on the kitchen table. He took his bike out of the garage and made his way to the ShutterBug to turn the film in for processing. He arrived well before closing and went to the back of the store with the three rolls of film.
“Back so soon?” said Mr. Jenson surprised. “I would have thought it would have taken you another ten minutes to shoot three rolls of film!” he said jokingly.
Phil laughed too and said, “Well I am a little anxious to see how these turn out. Will they be ready tomorrow?”
Mr. Jenson looked at the clock on the wall and said, “Tell you what Phil. I’ll develop the negatives tonight and print the pictures tomorrow. They’ll be ready about noon. How"s that?”
“Oh, that would be great Mr. Jenson! Thanks!”
Phil went home and for the second time in three days hardly paid attention to supper. He was thinking about how great the pictures were going to be, how clear the images were going to look, and yes, how Pam was going to look raking her lawn.
The hours crept by and Phil hardly slept. The next day was no better. Noon seemed to take an eternity to arrive. Shortly before noon Phil headed out to pick up his pictures. He arrived at the ShutterBug just at noon and went to see Mr. Jenson.
“Are the pictures ready Mr. Jenson?” Phil asked excitedly.
“Yes they are Phil. Came out of the printer just a little while ago.” he said indicating a complicated looking piece of equipment further back in the store. “I put them into their packages a few minutes ago. I purposely didn’t look at them as they were coming out of the machine. Care to share them with me?” he asked.
Phil thought of the pictures of Pam. Not that they were anything to be ashamed of, he just didn’t want anyone to know he liked her. “Uh,” Phil began, “I’d rather not if you don’t mind. Not this time.”
Mr. Jenson smiled and said, “I understand. Your first pictures and you want to look at them yourself first. Don’t blame you. I did the same thing with my first camera too!” He rang up the sale and placed the three envelopes of pictures into a yellow plastic bag with the ShutterBug’s logo on the side. He handed this to Phil and said, “Hope they turned out alright.”
Phil was relieved at not having to explain any further and said, “Thanks again Mr. Jenson. I’ll stop back and show you how they turned out.” Mr Jenson smiled at that, and Phil quickly made his way out the door.
He raced home and went quickly inside. His mother was on the phone and he heard her say, “Oh, wait a minute he just came home. Phil,” she called to him, “it’s Mr. Riley from school. He wants to talk to you.”
Surprised, Phil went into the living room and picked up the telephone receiver from the table where his mother had placed it. “Hello Mr. Riley.” Phil said. “What can I do for you?”
“Phil,” he heard Mr. Riley begin, “I wanted to let you know what I found out about the camera you asked me about.” Mr. Riley continued as Phil took the packages of pictures out of the bag and opened one.
“The name seemed familiar to me but I couldn’t place it.” Mr. Riley continued. “I looked in the literature I have here and couldn’t find any reference to the Follis 138. After looking through everything I had, I gave up and was going to call you to let you know. Then this morning I was in the teachers lounge having a cup of coffee when Mrs. Landry, the biology teacher, came in and sat down next to me. She looked at the piece of paper I had written the name of your camera on and began to laugh.”
Phil was taking one set of pictures out of its package as Mr. Riley explained, “When I asked her what was so funny she pointed at the paper in front of me and said, “That! The Fool's 138!” and she continued chuckling. That’s when it hit me. I remembered why the name sounded familiar to me. Phil, Follis in Latin means fool!”
Phil had stopped hearing. He was looking at the pictures he had taken in disbelief. The images were sharp and clear, the colors were perfect, they looked as though you could reach in and touch the subject so real were they.
He looked at the first picture of a beach with the ocean lapping at the sand. He looked at picture after picture. Here a winter snow scene with dunes disappearing into the distance. Another showed a primeval forest scene. Picture after picture were the same as those he had seen in the camera store where he had purchased his camera.
“Phil are you listening?” it was Mr. Riley.
“Uh, thanks for the information.” Phil said absently. “I have to make a call now.” and he hung up the receiver. He looked at the plastic bag the pictures had come in and called the number printed on the side.
The phone at the other end rang several time before the voice of Mr. Jenson answered with, “ShutterBug, Dan Jenson here.”
“Mr. Jenson,” Phil began, “this is Phil Davis. Was there any problem processing the pictures I dropped off. I mean, could they have gotten mixed up with anyone else’s?”
The was a pause from the other end then Mr. Jenson replied, “No, I don’t believe so Phil. I processed them myself. As a matter of fact yours was the only film we developed yesterday. No, there was no mix up. Why, is there a problem?”
Phil just sat there for a second and said, “No, I guess not. Thanks.” and he hung up.
Phil looked at the pictures again. These were the same pictures that the storekeeper had showed him. Every one! He opened the next package and looked at the pictures it contained. The same thing. Each picture was an exact duplicate of the pictures the strange storekeeper had shown him. The colors were perfect, the images almost too real.
He opened the last package and looked at another duplicate set of pictures. These were in black and white but were otherwise identical. The same pictures on three rolls. Nowhere were the pictures he had actually taken.
He quickly placed the pictures back into their envelopes and placed the envelopes back into the plastic bag. Almost running he went to the garage to get his bike. He passed his mother in the kitchen and didn’t say a word to her.
Phil got on his bike and headed back to the camera store where he had bought his camera. Parking his bike in front he was surprised to find the picture window again streaked with grime and the garish letters announcing ARCADE again on the window. He walked slowly to the door and rubbed a little of the dirt off in a circular motion so he could peer inside. The counters inside were covered with dust, litter was scattered on the floor.
As he leaned on the glass of the door, the door opened a fraction. He looked nervously around then opened the door the rest of the way and went inside. The air smelled musty. He made his way to the counter where he had purchased his camera and noticed pictures scattered across the counter top.
He looked at them one by one. The beach, the dunes, the forest, the storekeeper! He looked at that last one a long time. As he watched, the image of the storekeeper moved and said, “I guaranteed that the pictures you took, regardless of film type used, would turn out as good as these.” Then the storekeeper laughed. That laugh sent chills up Phil"s spine. “Welcome to the world of the Follis.” The storekeeper laughed again. As Phil watched, the raft that the storekeeper was resting on floated beyond the boundary of the picture and could no longer be seen.
Phil continued to hear the storekeepers laughter as he made his way to the door.