Chapter 33: Passion

I MANAGED to make my Monday morning seminar with Professor Hyatt, but Dr. Hernandez had already canceled our afternoon class in US Foreign Policy. We were all heading over to take the Civil Service Exam at the Dirksen Federal Building. It was only over at Dearborn and Adams, so Ronda and I walked over together, grabbing a sandwich and cup of coffee on the way.

The test took about two hours and I was surprised to find it wasn’t all that different from taking the SAT when I was in high school. There was a section on spelling, on grammar, on text comprehension, and on basic math. There were a few questions on government organization, but no more on that topic than on any other. When we left, I felt like I did pretty well on the test. Ronda just shrugged. She agreed that after looking forward to the test for three years and studying for it, the test itself was a bit of a letdown.

We got home in plenty of time to have dinner ready when Patricia and Toni got home.

It seemed like the rest of the week was spent on the phone. It’s a funny thing. I like to talk to my girlfriends, but other than that, I kind of hate the telephone. Still, when the mayor of Tenbrook called, I felt like I needed to talk to him.

“Nate, we wanted to let you know that the town is behind you and we’d like you to hold your press conference here on Monday morning. We’ll make the high school gym available so you have plenty of room.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lechleiter. It’s nice that you are still our village mayor.”

“Oh, no one else wants the job. At times like this it’s mostly a headache, but people love that the film company is coming back to town.”

“I’m glad they are doing a sequel to Over Exposure. It left some open issues to be dealt with.”

“Yes. Well, we all hope he gets caught this time. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

That was one call. Of course, I had a couple of conversations with Tor Berg. He’d established contact with the members of the lawsuit against Warren and then with both the newspaper and the television station. They’d all agreed to be at the conference Monday.

“Nate, Adrienne is calling,” Ronda called from the kitchen on Wednesday.

“Ah, my pet,” I said when I picked up the phone. “How are you doing?”

“I miss you so much,” she said. “I’ll be there Friday.”

“There? You mean here? In Chicago?”

“Yes. I’m traveling with the crew.”

“What crew?”

“I ran the situation by Frank and the writers after I talked to our sponsor. They got right on top of it. We’re bringing a small film crew to Tenbrook including Bert and Brent. You remember Brent. He’s the new writer working with Bert.”

“You mean they haven’t killed each other yet?” I laughed. Bert had not been happy to have another writer assigned to his movie.

“Getting along surprisingly well,” Adrienne said. “Anyway, the plan is to film your press conference on Monday, and even to participate in it. It’s funny that television stations as far as Dubuque and Fulton have expressed an interest in the event since a Hollywood film crew will be there.”

“We’d better reserve rooms in the hotel right away. It sounds like it will be full,” I said.

“Your room is already reserved. Um ... So is mine, if you permit me to stay so close,” Adrienne whispered.

“Permit you? Of course. I’m hoping you’ll spend some of your time in my room.”

“As much as we can manage, but I’ll stay in Tenbrook all week. I understand it is Ronda’s spring break and she might need company.”

“Oh, my. I think she is getting turned on already,” I laughed. “I will see you Friday.”

I went into the studio on Thursday after my portraiture class. I finally had an idea for my self-portrait and wanted to test what it would look like to shoot Ektachrome under red light. I thought Kodachrome might be a better choice because of its red saturation, but I also wanted to shoot this on the Linhof and I couldn’t get Kodachrome for it.

“Nate,” Cassie said when I got there, “I know you plan to leave for the weekend, but we got a request for a sitting on Saturday morning. She said it was urgent to have before you leave for Tenbrook and to tell you it was Sandra Gottschalk.”

Oh, shit! I’d been taking photos of Sandra since the day before her fifteenth birthday. Photos of a minor. I never thought about that because I didn’t keep any of the photos or negatives from our shoots. It was her personal project of herself and her growth over the years. Our last session had been in September when she was on her way to college.

Since I neither possessed or distributed the photos, I wondered if that was even applicable to the charge Warren was waving around. I suppose I took the photos—something I was sincerely regretting at this moment.

I just nodded my approval to Cassie and went on to the darkroom to run my experiments.

I had another project I wanted to test out. I wasn’t sure yet if I wanted to include color prints in my musician exhibition. But when I went over the photos from the recent sessions, the best photo of the flautist Robyn was definitely the last color transparency I took of her. The process for converting this to a black and white image seemed relatively straightforward, but I’d never tried it before.

I set up in the darkroom with the color 4x5 transparency and a 4x5 unexposed black and white sheet of film. I made a contact print and sent it straight through my usual photo process. The most difficult part of the process was simply setting it up. The panchromatic black and white film couldn’t be exposed to red light in the darkroom, so I had to work in the dark after I’d assembled my materials.

After a couple of tries, I decided to try one with x-ray film, which was monochromatic. After I’d created three negatives and gotten them processed, I started printing tests of the new negatives on regular RC paper.

I got one of the negatives under the slide upside down and the print was backwards. The other one yielded a very good rendition of the photo in black and white.

The x-ray film was easiest to work with because I could work under red light with it. But with all the red tones coming out solid black, I wasn’t too enthused about it. I decided the correctly exposed black and white negative was the best of the lot and I just needed to work on exposure of the negative to get the best results. I decided I could probably do a test strip on the negative in much the same way I did for printing.

I have to say that I wasted a dozen sheets of film and even more paper, but I finally got a print I liked. I would need to try it again with the photo of the cellist before I finally decided if I would include the color prints as part of my exhibition or convert them to black and white.

“We need Hollywood Nate,” Adrienne said when she arrived on Friday. “Sorry, master, I’m speaking on behalf of our sponsor.”

“I figured I needed a shave and a haircut,” I laughed.

“Not too short. You need to look hip, just not ragged. I think clean shaved would be good, though.”

“Okay. We can start at the barbershop on the way to the apartment. Ronda won’t be off for a couple of hours yet. You can instruct the barber as to what you want.”

“Hair dresser. We’ll never get what we want from a barber.”

“Okay. Um ... I wonder where Ronda gets her hair done.”

“Here,” Adrienne said, handing me an address. I knew the area okay and it was a kind of old shopping area. “I talked to Ronda and made us an appointment.”

“You are so efficient. Are they making you do stuff for the movie?”

“No, master. I am working only for you and our sponsor.”

“Does he have instructions as to what I’m supposed to say?”

“No. He does not want to interfere with your message, but he wanted me to make sure you’ll be listened to. If you want to rehearse this weekend, I’ll be happy to listen, but I am not your speech-writer.”

“I almost wish you were. It’s a real headache.”

“Everyone has confidence in you,” she said. “Have you noticed that no one is directing what you say? Your village council trusts you to message things correctly. They are excited to have the film crew here this weekend. And we may be filmed together before the conference on Monday. It would be good for you to act just as you always do.”

“And do you intend to wear your collar, Fifi?” I asked as we parked in front of the Adair Beauty School. Adrienne had been wearing the collar ever since I picked her up.

“Master, if you wish to parade me naked in front of the cameras with nothing but my collar on, I am yours to command. It might make the wrong kind of statement, though.”

“I don’t intend to make any big statements about my personal life. Anna, Patricia, and Ronda will be with us. Us, Adrienne. I expect you to stand with my family, but there will be no introductions or mentions of any of you.”

“I am honored, master.”

We went into the beauty school and Adrienne announced us to the receptionist. I was immediately surrounded by a flock of cute young things, and a couple of older women and a man I took to be instructors. My hair and beard were immediately washed under the watchful supervision of the instructors who were apparently giving a complete makeover course on me.

Electric clippers made quick work of my beard down to stubble, and then one of the women showed a picture of what she had in mind. It was a just below the ear style and it looked great on the model in the photo. I wasn’t sure what it would do for me. It didn’t take too long and she yielded to the guy. I was in for a treat I’d never experienced before. He wrapped a hot towel around my face and set two girls to clipping and manicuring my hands.

When he judged the beard to be satisfactorily softened, he lathered me up and used a straight razor to shave me. I think I might not have breathed the entire time he was shaving my throat. By the time he was finished, the girls on my hands were finished and I found my feet were soaking in a nice tub of hot water. I didn’t think the guy was going to shave my feet, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise when two more students bent to the task of clipping and filing my toenails.

While they were busy down below, the woman who did my haircut went back to work, moistening and brushing my hair, then using a blow dryer to style it.

“I won’t be able to sleep on this all weekend,” I joked when I saw it.

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll make sure you are styled and ready for Monday morning,” Adrienne said.

I smiled at her and paid the ridiculously low figure of $18 for all this treatment. I left two twenties and instructions that it was to be split up among all those who worked on me. As we were leaving, I heard squeals from the salon as the money was distributed.

We got to the apartment about the time Anna got in from running some errands. Patricia and Toni were packed with their things by the door.

“Aunt Addie!” Toni squealed when she saw Adrienne and immediately jumped to get a big hug.

“Adrienne, where did you pick up this handsome guy?” Patricia asked. “Do we get to keep him?”

“Yes, Miss Patricia, but I must warn you, he is very high maintenance.”

“We can handle that,” Anna said.

I laughed and hugged my girlfriends. As soon as Ronda got home, they got things packed up. Ronda was on her spring break and intended to spend it all in Tenbrook. Anna was also on break, but she wouldn’t join the others until I drove down on Saturday. Ronda, Patricia, Adrienne, and Toni were headed to Tenbrook this afternoon. I kissed each of them sincerely and they got in Patricia’s car and drove off.

Anna and I decided to go out for a nice romantic meal together. Honestly, I think we both considered the apartment to be too quiet to just hang around in with our lovers absent. We just sat in the booth we were shown to and held hands, whispering together about what would come up this weekend and Monday.

“I talked to my father this morning,” Anna said. “He wanted to know if I had any sexual relations with you before I turned seventeen.”

“That’s kind of personal to be probing for. Um ... we broke up a couple of weeks before your seventeenth birthday and hadn’t even kissed.”

“I told him that. He says that one of the things Warren has been touting in his campaign for morality is that the age of consent in Illinois is seventeen.”

“What? When did that happen? My entire first year in Tenbrook I took pictures of sixteen-year-olds and got signed releases from them under the concept that they were old enough to consent to that.”

“I know. I spent the morning in the law library at the University. They were very helpful. Illinois got a new constitution ratified by the voters on December 15, 1970. It went into effect on July 1, 1971.”

“That’s just last year. Does it say the age of consent is 17?”

“No. That was supporting legislation pushed through this past fall with a whole bunch of other things they were trying to update to match the new constitution. They had to reaffirm the right to vote at 18, too.”

“All right. So, what does it mean, really. I haven’t taken pictures of anyone under seventeen since I got to college.”

“Good, but it means anything he says about that in relation to you is irrelevant. When you did take photos of girls under seventeen, the age of consent was sixteen. And you were only seventeen, so it was probably irrelevant anyway. Besides, you never showed or distributed any photos of girls under eighteen, even if they asked you to take them. Dad says that you should bring up the age of consent law in your press conference.”

“Okay. Thanks for doing all that research for me.”

“I am not a legal advisor to you,” she intoned in a flat voice like a disclaimer on TV. “Your mileage may vary.”

“Nate! Thank you for coming in,” Sandra said, rushing to me in the studio. I’d turned down Anna’s offer to help. I had no difficulty having Sandra in the studio now, but I wanted privacy to find out what she wanted. I had visions of her blackmailing me.

She was nineteen years old now and a freshman at Kent State in Ohio. After the horrendous events my sophomore year in college, I questioned why anyone would go to Kent State, but Sandra had visited me last September on her way to school and told me Kent State offered undergraduate, graduate, and doctoral degrees in Human Development. She was definitely pursuing her dream.

I hugged her and looked hard at her. Would she try to extort money from me to keep secret our sessions when she was fourteen?

“What’s happening, Sandra? You know I’ll always make time for you, but this is a little surprising,” I said.

“Let’s sit, Nate. It’s about my parents.”

“Are they okay?”

“Physically, fine. Mentally, they’re off their rockers.”

“Okay. Tell me about it,” I said.

“When Pam left for college, they never once went into her room. Everything was exactly the way Pam left it until the day she arrived last summer to clear out everything she owned and move in with her new husband. Man, I’m glad that’s over and she finally got the guy to marry her,” Sandra said. She made a motion outlining a pregnant stomach in front of her.

“It was a bit of a surprise to get the wedding announcement. I sent her a copper kettle we used in one of her early photo shoots,” I said.

“She thought that was crazy funny. Anyway, I expected they’d treat my room the same way they treated Pam’s and I didn’t worry about having only what I needed with me at college,” Sandra continued. “They didn’t. As soon as word got out that the old constable guy was running for sheriff and arrest warrants were issued for Dr. May and Miss Ludwig, they went into my room and turned it upside down to see if I had gotten birth control from Dr. May. I hadn’t, by the way. Don’t ask me how I’ve done it, but I’m still technically a virgin. So, if you fuck me now, you’ll have to use a condom.”

“You know that’s not going to happen,” I said. “What did they find?” I had a bad feeling about this.

“Someday,” she smiled, then continued. “They found my album of developmental photographs. It’s pretty obvious when I switched from the old Polaroid to having my pictures done in the studio, and they assumed the first set was before I was fifteen. It was, you know, but only by a day. They took the album to former Constable Warren as evidence that I’d been corrupted by you. They were always big supporters of the constable and were among the few who voted against having him removed.”

“Oh, shit! That means they’ve got your record of our photo sessions together.”

“Not exactly. They have the photographs, but I kept my journals with me at college. And even if they got hold of the journals, I never talk about the photography sessions. I was recording my feelings and reporting on my development.”

“But I obviously took the photos. They can convict me of child pornography,” I sighed. “Maybe I won’t be coming back from Canada next week after all.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Sandra said. “Over the past five years, we’ve had sixteen photo sessions. I pretty much know what is involved. Today, you are going to give me the instructions I need to accompany my experience. I want exact instruction on how to take, process, and print self-photos with your high-quality camera.”

“Self?”

“If I was tested, I would want to come into your studio, set up your camera, take my own photos, process them, and print them. All anyone ever needs to know is that I paid you for your studio and camera time, and instruction on how to process the film and make my simple prints.”

“Sandra, why would you do this?” I asked.

“I put you in jeopardy, Nate. I will do my part to get you out of it. Have you ever done anything like this with anyone else who was underage?”

“No.”

“Good. Then it shouldn’t be a wasted effort.” She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Would you like to undress me so we can get started?”

It took us a major part of the morning. Sandra had observed the process, as she said, sixteen times over the past five years, but she’d been focused on her own experiences and what she felt. Fortunately, she was sharp and quick to pick up on all the techniques, which were pretty straight-forward. We had done the same thing every time she’d come to the studio.

For me, the setups were automatic, and I was surprised to find that Sandra was a natural at setting the light and getting the focus correct. The trickiest part was operating the self-timer and getting the prints made. She’d gone through all the steps of processing the film and developing the prints. If I had the chemicals mixed for her, there was no problem in her doing all the rest of the process by herself.

Of course, she didn’t do it all by herself. She did all the steps, but I was with her to be sure she understood and did it correctly. With her naked. Well, that had been an unspoken part of our relationship since the first session. When Sandra took her clothes off, she kept them off until it was time for her to leave. None of the film or prints we’d made ever stayed with me. It had all been taken by Sandra until the print I did of her in front of the seashore backdrop.

And over the years, we had become freer about how close we were and how much we touched. It was pretty much a sure bet that Sandra at least—and usually I—would have an orgasm or several. Her body was svelte. She had not developed as heavily on top as her sister and, in my opinion, that made her even more beautiful.

I was amazed that she was still a virgin.

“I’m still saving it for you,” she giggled. “One day. The thing is, I’m not in that big a hurry. Maybe studying the subject has helped slow the drive to participate. But right now, you can keep doing what you’re doing with your fingers. I love to come with you.”

“Don’t withhold your love when the right guy comes along because you have a fantasy about me,” I said as I continued to manipulate her little button.

“I won’t. But I do like our time together. It’s the only time I ever really feel safe with a boy. I know you’ll never do anything I don’t want you to, and you’ll put on the brakes when I’m being too free. Like you did with my sister.”

“I’m still not sure why you are doing any of this.”

“You are going to Tenbrook to have a press conference on Monday. I found out about it through a friend who said all the seniors at the high school would be in attendance. When you are asked about taking photos of an underaged woman—which you will be—you will say, ‘Sandra Gottschalk came to me and asked me to teach her how to take high quality photos of herself for a project on human female development she was working on. I taught her and loaned her my equipment and darkroom for her project. She has taken her own photos and used my darkroom where she felt safe developing them.’ You will never ever say anything about having taken my photo yourself. If someone asks you more specifically, answer with exactly the same words. There is not a lie in anything you are saying. You taught me to use your equipment and I have taken my own photos. This is as important to me as it is to you, Nate. Memorize the words and say them exactly the same way every time.”

“What do you want for all this?” I asked. I just had a hard time believing that Sandra was trying to protect me.