Pinhole, Higher Learning
Copyright© 2024 by Fanlon
Chapter 7
“So, how did it go?” I heard Dana ask behind me as I put my backpack in my locker and grabbed my textbook for social studies.
“How did what go?” I knew what she meant, but I felt like teasing her.
“Don’t be an idiot. You know exactly what I am talking about.”
“Oh, the darkroom is great. It’s done for the most part. Do you want to come to help paint the walls? They need one more coat inside the darkroom as well as the back wall for the studio. Then you can be my first model. You know, to test it out.”
“If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I am going to make you regret it.” The look on Dana’s face told me I was pushing my luck, but I didn’t back down.
“Oh, and how are you going to do that?” I gave her body a slow, deliberate, once over and met her eyes again with a stupid smile on my face. “You going to flash me right here in the hallway?”
“You wish.” I rolled my eyes at her, and she glared right back. “Just tell me, please!”
“Tell her already and quit being an ass,” Laura groaned beside me.
When had she gotten here? I didn’t see her come over. She slid in right next to me, her fingers questing as I interlaced them into my own.
“How long have you been standing here, and I am not being an ass.”
“Yes, you are, and long enough.” She squeezed my hand.
“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, you little twerp.”
“Okay, okay. It was ... strange, different.”
“What do you mean, different?” Dana asked.
“It wasn’t what I was expecting, that’s all. I thought it would be like Mr. Watts’ class, you know?”
“It’s a college course!” Dana threw up her hands in a huff. “Of course, it’s not going to be like a high school class. Is that what you really thought it was going to be like?”
“I know that,” I snapped. I didn’t know that, but I wasn’t going to admit that to Dana and Laura. “The class was just different. From what the professor said, we have lectures on Mondays, then another class in the main studio on Wednesdays, and on Friday it’s our lab day.”
“Labs?” Laura asked, I shrugged. I had no idea what that was either. I should have asked Mom and Dad last night, but I didn’t think of it then.
“Go ask Mrs. Peterson.”
“Good idea!” I replied, smiling. I took two steps towards my first class and spun on my heels to face the girls. “Lunch?”
“Sure,” Dana answered, giving me a small smirk. “Meet you at the usual spot?”
Mrs. Peterson was more than willing to answer all my questions. She pointed out that I could have just asked Professor Zarnick after class. I hadn’t thought that was even an option to which she laughed and explained that it happens all the time. That’s why they have certain hours available for students to come in and talk to the professors. That answered another question I hadn’t thought to ask.
She, just like Dana and Laura, asked me how my first class went, beside the questions I had. I explained how the class went. I even told her about the Jeff guy and the girl who had come to my aid. She smiled at that and nodded as she listened. She asked me about Professor Zarnick, what I thought about him. Did I like him? I didn’t know what to say. I explained that he seemed nice. He was kind of tough to understand sometimes, because of his accent and she laughed. She told me to pay attention and that he was not just a great teacher, but a very good photographer as well, who just happened to specialize in black and white.
I was floored by that. Not that he was a good photographer, I assumed you had to be if you were going to teach students how to do it. No, I was shocked that he liked black and white mediums. She went on to tell me that he requested that I be placed in his class specifically after he saw my pictures at the Sheldon Art Gallery. From what her husband had told her, Professor Zarnick was shocked when he heard I was only a freshman in high school and that I had even used a hand-made pinhole camera.
I couldn’t help but stand a little taller, my back straighter hearing that he requested me to join his class. There was more she wanted to tell me, but the bell rang, and we were cut off as the room started to fill with students as they finished off whatever conversations they had started in the halls.
After lunch, Mom was there waiting to pick me up and take me home. It was strange knowing that I didn’t have any more classes in the afternoon. Dana told me she would come by after her last class. I had invited Laura, but she obviously couldn’t come over. Her mom still hated me for the whole portrait of Laura but not only that, hanging it in a public gallery for everyone and anyone to see her naked on the dock.
“What are you going to do this afternoon?” Mom asked as we pulled into the garage.
“Probably get started painting.”
“Be careful. I don’t want paint all over the place.”
“I will,” I assured Mom. She didn’t say anything more but as she was climbing the stairs I said, “Dana is going to come over and help after her last class.”
“Should I plan on her being here for dinner too?”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that should be fine.”
“Thanks!” The only response I got was a feminine laugh.
I didn’t bother putting my stuff in my room. Instead, I dropped it on the floor in the middle of the basement before I spun the door that led into the darkroom and slipped inside. I flipped the light switch on the wall just inside the door and the warm glow of the red lights lit the room. There was a second switch, further down the wall that I flipped next to turn on the normal light bulbs.
It was smart having the switches so far apart. That saved me from accidentally hitting the wrong switch or someone else flipping it while I was in the middle of developing a picture. With the fluorescent lights on, I could see the can of paint we had used before sitting on the countertop as well as the brushes. The one thing missing, however, were the paint rollers.
“Alright, time to get to work,” I said to myself. Not that I needed to motivate myself, not even a little. I was excited to get this done so I could use it, finally.
I was about done with the third wall when I heard the door spin to allow someone in.
“You in here?”
“Yeah, come on and help me finish this.”
“Holy shit. Your mom is going to kill you when she sees you.”
“What? Why?”
“Have you looked at yourself?”
“No.” I used my arm to wipe off the sweat on my forehead. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah, shit is right.”
I was covered in paint and from the look of my arm, the one I had just used to wipe my face, it wasn’t just going to be on my clothes, but my face too.
“Good thing there’s a sink in here.”
“A sink!” I dropped my brush into the paint bucket and turned on the water and started scrubbing.
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