by Leddy Harper
Something about her creased brow caused my insides to twist into knots. Her eyes avoided mine and her bottom lip quivered. I didn’t wait for her response before flying through the studio to the front door.
Outside, on the walkway between my door and the parking lot, stood a kid who couldn’t have been older than twenty. The first thing to catch my eye was how his dark, greasy hair touched his shoulders, which brought my attention to his unkempt beard. His slight frame made him appear as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
It was only yesterday Shari had questioned the possibility of Nolan sending me a homeless man. I thought I’d be prepared for it, but nothing could’ve readied me for the sight of the boy in front of me.
His clothes, which appeared to not have been washed in months, hung from the rack which was his body, and his shoes had holes in the toes. But his skin…his skin appeared to be clean, as if he washed his body and then put back on his soiled clothes.
For a brief moment, I questioned if I’d been set up by Nolan. I wouldn’t have put it past him to pay a kid to appear homeless. But my suspicion quickly vanished the second a car horn blared from the street in front of my studio. He jumped back and shook in fear.
I cautiously walked toward him, being cognizant of my movements so I wouldn’t frighten him. “Hi, my name is Novah. Are you here to have some pictures taken?”
The boy looked at me with timid, dark-green eyes, and nodded. He didn’t bother to give me his name or any other response, so I took a step back and held the door open. I expelled a sigh of relief as he walked inside.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything set up at the moment. If you could take a seat in here, I’ll be right back.” The professional grin I wore on my face in front of clients felt forced as I pointed to the chairs in the waiting room. After he hesitantly took a seat, I headed to my desk in the back room. I may have appeared confident on the outside, but inside, I was filled with uncertainty and doubt.
Shari met me with downturned eyes and a slight frown. It was evident she held the same compassion I did for this kid, and I’m sure her levels of hatred toward Nolan were comparable to mine, as well.
“What am I supposed to do, Share?” I tried to keep my voice low, but the intense emotion that ran through me caused my throat to tighten and forced me to speak louder in order to get the words out. “I can’t come up with a single idea. Did you see him? Like, really see him? Something tells me he’s not homeless, but I can’t imagine why he’d wear those clothes if he wasn’t. And there’s no way he could’ve pulled this off last minute for the shoot. What am I missing?”
Before Shari could respond, the chime to the door sounded again. I peered out into an empty waiting room. Shit. The boy was gone. I only hoped he hadn’t heard me talking to Shari.
I ran out after him, catching up to him as he rounded the front of the building. “Wait!”
“This was a stupid idea.” He didn’t bother turning around to look at me as he spoke. Even as I stood behind him, his voice came out deep and harsh, much different than I had imagined he’d sound. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Please, just wait. I’m glad you came.” I tried to convey how much I honestly wanted him to stay, surprised by the actual disappointment I experienced at the thought of him leaving.
“Why? I read your mission statement in there. I read how you vow to capture the essence of true beauty in everything. There’s nothing but ugliness inside me. I’m repulsive. You’d only be wasting your time.”
“I really wish you’d give me a chance to show you how wrong you are.”
He shook his head and turned his distraught attention toward his feet. “If you ever saw the images in my head, you’d have nightmares for months. They give me nightmares. I can’t escape them. I’ve thought about ending it all several times—make it all go away, finally have an ounce of peace.”
It seemed as though he’d been talking to himself, not realizing I stood in front of him and could hear his blatant cry for help. And when his eyes met mine again, they were filled with such pain and sorrow my heart crumbled inside my chest.
“There is no beauty in or outside of me. My damage can’t be seen with the naked eye. It’s embedded so deeply on the inside, my veins carry the disease through my body. It consumes me.” He fisted his hair to punctuate what he wanted me to believe. “I look like this because I’m tired of people telling me I’m okay. How would they know? They don’t know because they can’t see inside my head. They can’t see the things I do. They can’t experience what I go through on a daily basis. So I show them by making the outside match what I look like on the inside.”
He didn’t sound crazy, or even make me fearful of him. It was obvious this kid struggled with depression, and I understood his desire to make his pain visible—his battle was unseen, locked tightly inside his mind. I desperately wanted to reach out to him, but he seemed skittish, frightened of everything around him. I didn’t want to cause him any more distress.
“Please, I promise I will do you justice. If you’ll just come back inside with me—”
“No.” His deep, abrasive tone took me by surprise and silenced the rest of my sentence. “It’s useless. You won’t be able to take my pictures anyway. I didn’t even think about the flash. I won’t be able to handle it.”
“It’s okay…it’s fine.” I had to quickly think on my feet. “We can do it all outside with natural light. We don’t have to do it in there.” I waved toward my door as I feverously tried to conjure a solution on such short notice. And then a thought came to me. “A boat…can you handle being on a boat?”
His eyebrows drew together and his top lip curled behind his mangy beard as he considered my suggestion. I worried for a moment he would say no, but he surprised me when he said, “Yeah, I can be on a boat.”
“Okay, good. I have an idea, but I need a moment to get everything together. Do you mind waiting inside while I get organized? Ten minutes, tops. I promise.”
He agreed with a hesitant nod before following me back inside. I grabbed my camera bag, not bothering with the other equipment, and then made a brief phone call to a friend of mine who owned a boat. Shari listened in on the call so I wouldn’t have to repeat myself to her.
I moved with efficient speed, knowing in the back of my mind he could bolt at any moment. Less than ten minutes later, we were in the car, heading for Tarpon Pointe Marina.
Shari offered him the front seat, but he chose to sit alone in the back, not saying a single word the entire drive. Utter sadness filled me when I thought about the level of this young man’s depression. But I fought hard to remain optimistic, hoping I could offer him at least some semblance of peace.
Paul, my friend with the boat, waited for me at the end of the dock. He had the engine cranked and everything ready to go.
The boy, who still hadn’t given me his name, followed quietly behind as we made our way to the end of the dock. Paul eyed him curiously, but I shook my head at him, letting him know he shouldn’t ask any questions.
We headed out to one of the small islands in the Caloosahatchee River. When the boat stopped, the boy didn’t move, only gazed at me with curiosity in his dark-green eyes—eyes I knew would capture the sun and gleam like emeralds.
“This is as close as we can get to the shore, so we’ll have to wade through the water by foot. But don’t worry, it’s really shallow. You’re probably going to want to remove your shoes, though. And if you could, I’d like for you to take off your shirt, as well. You can keep on your jeans if you’d like.”
I expected hesitancy, yet I didn’t get any.
Without a word, he kicked his shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head. His baggy clothes had successfully hidden his muscles, and had made him appear much smaller than he was, yet his frame was still slight…like a boy. I did notice one lone tattoo, high on his bicep—a cartoon depiction of an arched bench weight and the word “Ku-chow” written beneath it.
“Can I get a name so I have
something to use when I call out directions?” I asked, hoping to earn a little bit of his trust. Things would go a lot smoother if we had some rapport between us.
He offered a small grin. “Andrew.”
“Okay, thank you, Andrew.”
After our belated introductions, we made our way to the shore. No more than fifty feet past the break of the surf, trees heavily populated the island. I knew how perfect the spot was before even making it there, and I immediately began shooting.
Andrew didn’t need too much direction. I let him wander and explore while I captured it all on camera. The images reflected a similarity to Cast Away—minus Wilson, the volleyball. I took shot after stunning shot of this slight boy with young muscles hiding behind trees, crouching behind bushes, and meandering through wildlife.
We spent nearly an hour on the island. I didn’t need the entire time to capture what I’d been looking for, but Andrew appeared peaceful and I didn’t want to end one single glimpse of tranquility in this young man’s tortured life.
I hadn’t even been at my desk for twenty minutes before Shari informed me of my next client’s arrival. I turned around, expecting to see my assistant, but my attention was stolen by the god who stood beside her. He was tall, broad, and gave the impression of being light on his feet…well, technically, he didn’t have any feet. He had metal hook-looking things extending past the bottom of his jeans. However, his legs hadn’t been what surprised me. After Nolan had sent over three sad and depressed people, I wasn’t at all expecting to find a man standing there, grinning as if he had just won the lottery.
“I’m Mike. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand to me, but never took his dark-brown eyes away from my face.
His confidence momentarily shocked me as I blinked stupidly at him. The vast difference between this man and the others amazed me. Suddenly, I realized I hadn’t responded. A small laugh released on an exhale as I accepted his offered hand. “Novah, and this is my assistant, Shari.”
He curled his fingers around mine and pulled them to his mouth where he pressed his soft lips against my knuckles. “Novah…such a unique name.” His voice soared to my ears and sounded like a musical instrument. He released my hand and then took Shari’s. “It’s a pleasure.”
“If you’ll just excuse us for a moment, we need to get things set up and organized. I hadn’t expected you so soon.”
Another smile, which revealed perfectly white teeth, spread across his face. “I understand. It’s my fault. I couldn’t wait to get here so I came a little early. I apologize. Oh, and I was told to come without the legs, but there was no way in hell I was about to roll in here in a wheelchair. Figured I’d just remove them when you’re ready.”
“Wait.” I held up my hand, halting his escape. “You were told to come here without your legs? Why?”
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “I was told you were doing a spread on the disabled. I’m sorry, I must’ve misunderstood. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Nolan is such an ass.
“You’re fine. And you can keep the legs if you’d like. I mean, it’s up to you how you’d like to be photographed. However, I must say, those are some pretty fancy feet you have.”
His rumbling laugh ran through me, coating me in warmth. “I find them easier to walk in. And I can run in them, too. Gives me a spring in my step.” He gave us a short demonstration and then turned to leave the room.
“Hold on. I don’t need to set anything up. I know what I want to do. How comfortable are you being mostly naked around a couple women?”
His broad smile made his eyes twinkle in the overhead light of the studio. “Extremely. What do you have in mind?”
I made quick work of setting up the umbrella lights and organizing a space against one wall for him to pose by. While I did that, Shari helped Mike out of his clothes before oiling him up. I didn’t even ask for the oil; she had taken it upon herself to lather him in it.
After a few shots of him, I came up with another idea. “Do you by chance have any objection to posing with someone?”
Mike nodded with a sly, self-assured grin on his face.
“Please pick me,” Shari whispered in my ear.
I couldn’t help but laugh at her desperate plea. “No shirt, no bra, no pants. Only your underwear. You okay with that?” I asked her as quietly as I could, yet Mike must’ve heard because a growl came from his direction.
We both turned our heads to see what he’d meant by the throaty grumble, but before I could ask anything, I noticed the growing bulge between his legs. It was clear he wasn’t disgusted.
Shari didn’t hesitate before stripping out of her clothes right there in the middle of the studio. She sauntered over to him and leaned against his chest. Her hair hung in luscious waves down her back, and the only thing I could see on her body was the small strap of her thong.
Mike wrapped his heavily muscled and tattooed arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. She tilted her head to the side, allowing him access.
No direction needed.
I immediately began to aim and zoom, capturing their moment with little effort. The last picture had been of Mike whispering something in her ear while she stood with her toned, bare legs between his titanium ones. He hooked his thumbs beneath the thin elastic bands at her hips, his eyes meeting the camera lens. The moment the shutter closed, her gasp rang out into the room.
“That’s a wrap,” I yelled and headed over to my desk in the corner. However, they didn’t appear to be finished with their private conversation. Part of me thought about giving them some space, but then responsibility kicked in. I did not run a whorehouse, nor did I want my reputation as being the best photographer in Southwest Florida to be ruined by their lust. “You two can continue this somewhere else. I’m done for the day.”
Shari and Mike finally separated and dressed while I kept my back to them, busying myself with cleaning my work area. I took care of the entire cleanup since my assistant had been preoccupied by our client. Normally, I would’ve complained, but something about those two left me unable to argue. I had never seen her act so giddy around a guy before, and I decided to let her have her fun.
I went straight home and immersed myself in finishing all four subjects’ prints. I was so used to tweaking things for others, but when it came to these people and the photos I’d taken, I decided to only do the absolute bare minimum. I wanted them to be as natural as possible. And I couldn’t have been happier with how they turned out.
My phone chimed next to me as I put my computer away for the evening.
Asshole: How was Mike?
Me: Amazing
Asshole: Did you have to help him out of his chair?
Me: I sat on his lap and let him fuck me until I couldn’t remember my own name.
I shouldn’t have responded, but he had me so angered, rational thought flew right out the window.
Asshole: Good to know you like the ones with stumps for legs
Me: How did you even get my number?
Asshole: I’m rather resourceful.
I wanted to reply, to demand answers, but I knew he wasn’t worthy of my time or energy. I also knew there was no way I’d email him my proofs. I needed to see this fucker face to face and lay it all out on the table for him. I needed to get this resentment and hatred off my chest, and if seeing him in person was what I had to do, then so be it.
I turned my phone off and fell asleep, rehearsing the words I’d say to him once I had my chance to confront him after all this time.
“Shari,” I called out once I walked to my desk the next morning. “I need you to locate Nolan for me. Find out where he works or where I can ambush that jerk. And I need it before this next shoot is over.”
“And what makes you think I can find him?”
“You’re like the Google whisperer. I swear, there’s nothing you can’t solve on there. In the meantime, I’ll handle this session by myself, and then I’m going to take a very
long lunch.”
Shari didn’t respond, only took the chair and began typing away on the computer at my desk. Thankfully, my next client didn’t take long, and her session ended earlier than planned, giving me additional time for my break.
“What did you find out?” Once the model left the building, I made my way to Shari.
She turned around in the chair with a Cheshire grin on her face. “Well, turns out Mr. Richards runs a local security firm right here in town, and has an office about ten minutes away on Del Prado. Second floor in the Brighton building.”
“Well, that would explain how he got my phone number.”
“Whoa whoa whoa.” She stood up and impatiently waved her hand in my face. “Nolan has called you and you didn’t tell me?”
“No,” I said calmly as I reached around her for my purse. “He didn’t call me. He’s texted me a few times. And why would I tell you anything? I wouldn’t be on my way to face him had you not put me in this position to begin with. I’m still pissed about that, by the way.”
Shari caught up to me at the front door, momentarily halting my escape. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to show him the proofs from the weekend. And then I’m going to tell him what a piece of shit he is right before I tell him to fuck off.”
“I think you need support.”
“I think you need to stay here and man the office. I can handle this without you, thank you very much. You’ve supported me enough when it comes to Nolan.” I wasn’t really mad at Shari. What she did came with good intentions—unlike Nolan. My anger toward him seemed to have transferred over to her, and I was too wrapped up in revenge to correct myself.
Nerves and adrenaline pumped through my veins, causing my hands to shake on the steering wheel during the entire ten-minute drive to his office. I then sat in the parking lot, trying to calm myself before getting out. I even stood in front of the elevators, staring at his name on the directory for a few minutes too long before finally hitting the up button. And once the elevator doors opened on the second floor, I was sure my heart had stopped.