Chapter 14: I’ll Hit You Back

Band rehearsals were getting crowded. As usual, Randi and Mina showed up with Bruno and Carl that Saturday. After an hour, Shannon arrived with a huge pile of equipment. A few lights? We took a break so I could help her carry the stuff up to the cabin. Introductions went around.

“So you’re here to take pictures of Matt?” Carl asked her.

“Yeah, class project, you know,” she replied, as she started putting together light stands and tripods. I pretended not to be too interested in her setup, but secretly, the things she’d brought fascinated me.

“Are you going to take any band shots?” he continued.

She looked him over with one brow raised. “I wasn’t, but I guess I’m going to have to now, since you wore your best shirt.”

Laughter went around the room, as Carl examined his ripped t-shirt.

“Hey, it’s rock and roll, right?” he said with a grin. He bashed out a tom fill and finished with a crash of cymbals. Then he tried to twirl his drumstick in one hand. It ended up sailing into the corner.

“Whoops,” he muttered.

The rest of us sniggered as he sheepishly gathered the stick. We launched into a song at Shannon’s request. She asked us to pretend that she wasn’t there as she played with the light settings and tried different things. It was hard to ignore her, since I wanted to watch what she did. She seemed to be quite comfortable with adjusting the lighting. After some time, she had an interesting glow spread over our band. She moved us closer together. The curtains had been closed and furniture had been adjusted. She enlisted Randi and Mina to hold reflective screens here and there, and now she was framing shots with the camera, though it didn’t seem like she ever pushed the shutter.

“Okay, can I interfere?” Shannon asked, when we were between songs.

“Sure,” I said. “Whatever you have to do.”

“Matt, can you play and keep kind of still? Like, freeze everything except your hands and arms. And the rest of you guys, lots of action. Go crazy. Crank up the volume!”

Pete and Bruno looked at each other with questioning looks. Then they shrugged and reached for their amps.

“From the top!” Carl called out, clicking his sticks over the increased ground hum emanating from the speakers.

He started bashing his drums like an animal, producing a grin on everyone’s faces. Pete and Bruno were a little slower getting into Shannon’s directive, but shortly they were gyrating to the music. I fought to keep as still as possible. Shannon’s camera clicks were impossible to hear over the din, but it seemed like she was taking lots of photos now. Sure enough, she soon had to change to a new roll of film.

It was interesting to watch her work. In particular, her eyes appeared to take in every detail. She carefully arranged things I probably would’ve ignored, like the orange extension cord lying on the floor by my amp. She said it was going to be distracting if it was in the frame. She had Carl move his cymbal stand a few inches for ‘better symmetry’. With meticulous attention, her gaze swept over every facet of the scene.

“Okay, go!” she called out.

We played again and Shannon flew through another two-dozen exposures. I was glad to see I wasn’t the only one exceeding my allotment of film. The guys then took a break as Shannon shot a set of just me with my guitar. After that finished, she thanked us and said she had enough to work with. I quickly put my instrument down and went over to where she was, finally able to survey the scene from her perspective. It was very cool, the various lights making our setup look like we were on a performance stage.

“Did you get some good ones?”

Shannon smiled. “We’ll see. But I think so.”

“There’s a darkroom right in there,” I said, gesturing at the bedroom door.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Get out of here.”

“Serious. I just finished putting it together. Check it out.”

Shannon followed me, a dubious look on her face. The faint smell of photographic chemicals reminded me that I should start leaving the window open more often, or my parents were going to retract the agreement.

She huffed sharply as she discovered that I wasn’t kidding. “Wow, this is ... so cool!” she breathed, looking at the layout that Heather and I had set up. “I’d kill to do this at my house!”

“It’s not too hard.”

She gave me a grin as she rubbed her fingers together. “No, not hard, but expensive. I’m already in debt to my folks for the lights. Where did you get this awesome enlarger?” she asked, gracing it with a caress.

“It was my dad’s.”

“Wow. That’s a serious piece.” Shannon took some time to inspect the unit. “Oh, wow! It looks like it will do medium format!”

I blinked at her. “What’s that?”

When she started talking about the subtleties of film grain and focus fall-off, I realized she knew a great deal more about photography than I did. It was impressive, and it gave me a new appreciation for her work. I had a feeling Ms. Rawlings had paired us up so Shannon could teach me a few things.

“So do you want to develop a roll and have a look?” I asked.

Shannon still seemed to be in awe of the idea of a personal darkroom – understandably – but she nodded eagerly at me. “We can do the negatives, at least. Can I come by later tonight to pick them up?”

“Sure.”

I handed her the developing tank as I set the blackout in place over the window. I popped back into the main room to let the guys know not to come into the darkroom while we worked, stressing the need for complete darkness. I noticed Carl wiggle his eyebrow at Pete as he echoed, “Complete darkness, huh?” Just in case these clowns decided to try something, I locked the door. Shannon was examining the spool.

“How do you feed the film on?” she asked. “This is different than the ones we use at school.”

I found a bit of old film and showed her how to put it on. She practiced once and then said she was ready to try it for real. I killed the lights and waited in the dark, listening to the sounds of her working the cartridge open and loading it.

“I can’t seem to get the film to go on the reel,” she said after a while.

“It won’t thread?”

“No. Maybe I’m doing it wrong.”

“Hmm.”

“Can you do it?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Walk this way. I have my hand out, so you can find me.”

I took small shuffles toward her voice, waving an arm blindly in front of me. Then I came in contact with a woolen material: her sweater. She’d seated herself on the bed. I’d touched her shoulder, a fact I registered just as her fingers encountered my groin. I jumped back instantly and reached down for her hand, but she’d pulled hers away as well.

“Sorry,” I said, my voice sounding a bit anxious. “Can’t see a thing.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

Finally our hands met in midair.

Did she realize what had just happened? This darkness thing was a bit dangerous after all. It was just an accident, I reminded myself. She probably thought she touched my leg, or hip, or whatever. At least I didn’t land on her breast!

“Here,” she said, pulling on my hand. My fingers made contact with the metal spool. She delicately brushed the edge of the negative strip along the side of my thumb. With my free hand, I took the film from her. Since I hadn’t started the process myself, finding the right alignment was an exercise in patience. At last, I figured out the orientation of the spool and had the negative going smoothly onto the reel.

“All right, it’s on,” I said, glad I hadn’t failed.

“Cool. Here are the other parts.”

With care, I loaded the reel into the developing tank and then closed it up. I passed it back to Shannon, our fingers touching as she gripped the round canister. For a moment, I lingered with my grip on the can, focused on our intertwined fingers. Then I realized she had a good hold of it, so I let go.

“Okay, lights coming on. Hope it’s light-tight!” I said quickly. “Close your eyes.”

I shuffled back in the direction of the door and hit the switch. After adjusting her vision to the brightness, Shannon moved to the table.

“Developer? Ah, here we go.” She looked around, sensing the air. “It’s probably about seventy in here, huh?”

“Good guess. I set it to seventy this morning so the chemicals would be ready.”

“Nice!”

“A few days ago, I tried developing something and forgot to have the heat on. Ruined the roll!”

Shannon laughed as she poured in the developer and then agitated the tank. I set the timer for her. I was suddenly anxious to open the door, so I went back out to the rehearsal room. Lara had come up to the cabin. The three couples were hanging out on the couches, having a good time.

“How’s it going in there?” Carl sang out. His tone implied that he wasn’t talking about the film development. Quiet giggles from the others suggested that they were imagining non-photographic activities in the darkroom as well.

“Fine,” I said nonchalantly. “Developing the negatives.”

“Do we get to see them?”

“Probably not. They take a while to dry before you can really get a good look.”

I heard a banging sound from the darkroom. Air bubbles...

“She’s calling for you, Matt,” Bruno said quietly, suggestively, and the others – all except Lara – tittered in response.

“Quit it, mofo,” I said, shaking my head at him. “Grow up.”

I glanced at Lara. She regarded me, her face expressionless. Unwilling to bear the childishness any longer, I returned to the darkroom.

Shannon grinned at me as I sat on the bed. “I’d so love to have a room like this at my house. Even if I owned an enlarger, though, I’d have nowhere to put it.”

Before considering the implications of the following offer, I said, “Feel free to come here and use mine whenever you want.”

Shannon narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, but you’d probably regret that. I might be here a lot! Besides, it would be dangerous.”

I shot her a nervous glance. Was she insinuating something? Part of me wondered if she was right, although not in the way she meant. Was it wise to be forming yet another possibly close friendship with a female?

“Why?”

“I’d start doing even more photography, and I already spend all my allowance on it as it is!”

I nodded, relieved that it was that kind of ‘dangerous’.

“Well, you know, I’m just saying. I don’t mind sharing the equipment.”

Shannon pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I might take you up on it sometimes. Anyway, I need to get home and finish my homework. Can I swing by tonight and take a peek at the negatives?”

“Sure. You can even make some prints if you want.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, probably not. But that enlarger does look sweet. It must be a really nice one.”

“It was my dad’s, so it has to be at least twenty years old now.”

“Cool. Well, I better get going.”

“Yeah, come back any time tonight. I’ll be home.”

Back in the main room I helped her pack up the lights. With some help loading out from the guys, we had her on her way fairly quickly.

“So what was that for, again?” Bruno asked.

“Photography class. We need to shoot some hobby shots for our project. She wanted to get some of the whole band to fill out the set.”

“Who are you taking pictures of?” Lara asked.

“Her.”

“Doing what?”

“She dances.”

When Shannon came to gather the negatives that night, we set up a time for the coming week to meet at the place where she studied dance. On the appointed day, I took the late bus into town, getting off near Murph’s and then making the short walk up to her teacher’s house, which apparently had a dance space attached to it. Sure enough, I soon spotted Shannon from the sidewalk, warming up in the windowed studio.

“Hey,” she greeted cheerily, dressed in ballet pointe shoes, tights, and a black leotard. “Find it okay?”

“Yeah, easy. Cool place,” I said, glancing around as I set my camera bag and tripod down. I felt a little underequipped, compared to all the lighting she’d brought to the band shoot. I’d considered a stop into Murph’s, but there was no way I had enough money for even the most basic of strobes. Then again, I wasn’t even sure how I’d use them.

The illumination in the studio was looking like it might be interesting, since the shadows of the evening sun were slipping through the crevices of the skeletal tree branches that lined the west side of the room. Fortunately, daylight savings was still offering me an extra hour of light.

“So what do you want to do?” Shannon asked, as she grabbed the barre with one hand and gracefully swung her leg back and forth.

“Um, well, I don’t really know much about dance. Is there something in particular that you wanted me to shoot?”

She shrugged. “I guess I’ll try a number that I’ve been working on lately. If you see any good chances for pictures, just say so and I’ll stop.”

Shannon started playing a cassette through the stereo system. A pulsing noise began to emanate from the speakers in the corners of the room. It sounded like a CD that was skipping, but she didn’t seem to notice. She took her place in the center of the studio. I soon realized that the music was supposed to sound this way, a series of pulsed chords that faded in and out of each other. It seemed an odd choice for a dance track, but what did I know.

I was just locking the lens onto the body when Shannon went onto the point of her shoes. She began to imperceptibly step in place, in time with the repeated pulses. Her arms rose fluidly above her head, her torso swaying to the side like a wilting flower. That would be a nice picture! Then her abdomen looked like it was pulled backward by an invisible string. Her feet followed with rapid, tiny steps as she was swept toward the windows, hands reaching out in front of her. Another nice shot.

I set my camera down and felt around for a canister of film, unwilling to stop watching her. Shannon was basically making a series of images, her expressive upper body supported on long legs that looked like they were tied together. This was going to be a very easy assignment, I realized. Then again, she never stopped moving, so maybe it was going to be hard to capture the amazing fluidity of her body with still photos. She reminded me of a sea plant, swaying, pulled by the tides and waves.

Soon the music shifted, the pulsed chords giving way to some odd guitar licks that repeated and then started layering over themselves. Shannon’s dancing changed in response. Her feet moved in complicated, mechanical patterns, while her upper body stayed relatively stiff. It seemed like the opposite of her earlier movement. It was fascinating, becoming even more so when the pulsing chords returned, joined now with the dense stack of repeating licks. Shannon’s upper half awoke again, and the dance turned into a merging of the two styles. I watched raptly, amazed at her abilities to make the music look like it was coming from her body. The piece faded out and she dropped her heels to the ground. She winced a little as she turned to me, despite a lighthearted demeanor.

“You didn’t take any shots. Not what you were looking for?”

I was taken aback. “What? I—No, that was incredible, Shannon! I couldn’t stop watching. I forgot I was here to take pictures! How do you even do that?”