Lightstorm

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Lightstorm Page 4

by Jeremy Bursey


  ***

  The next morning, the sun had barely peeked over the horizon when Jake and Kate stepped outside of the Igloo Hotel. The air was stale, but still colder than a kitchen freezer. With the exception of a deep whipping sound marching boldly toward their ears, the environment was eerily silent. Thin layers of frost floated just above the surface not far from where they stood.

  Kate had her camera strapped over her shoulder while Jake kept his in his hand. Once again he felt like smirking, but he thought it would be better to educate her on her folly than to mock her. He shook his head to begin his lesson.

  “No wonder you take uninteresting pictures,” he said. He did his best to keep his voice sounding mature. “Keep your camera in your hand so that you’re ready for anything.”

  Kate pointed to a helicopter that was already whirling its rotors nearby.

  “They’re waiting for us,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  Jake took a picture of her, and then he snapped a picture of the Igloo Hotel, which was remarkably small for a hotel. The frosty hamlet resembled a tiny ice lodge made completely out of ice and snow, while the woman resembled a medium-sized brunette made completely out of jackets and still shots.

  “What are you doing?” she asked impatiently.

  “Filling up two more months,” he said. “Greenland’s finest habitat and the region’s prettiest polar bear.”

  Kate smiled, but kept walking.

  “I’ll take the ‘pretty’ as the compliment,” she said. “You can keep the rest.”

  They boarded the waiting helicopter, where they were given annoying green baseball caps to wear. Both caps sported the town’s name of Kangerlussauq, Greenland, across the face, which actually looked like a complicated endeavor for the designer to accomplish. The letters were almost too small to read. From a distance it wouldn’t look like anything more than a straight line from one end to the other. Jake had no idea why he needed it, so he tossed it out the door and watched as the rotors fanned it down the field.

  “Jake,” said Kate, “I think these hats are supposed to show our support for this town. It’s a sign of appreciation for having us here.”

  “Appreciate what? Instead of fine dining, they gave us hats.”

  “They also gave us unlimited use of their bowling alley, didn’t they?”

  She had a point.

  “Well, it’s too late to get it back,” he said.

  Before Jake could finish his sentence, the helicopter lifted off. Within a minute, they flew over the mountain range.

  They flew for several minutes without speaking a word to each other. Jake didn’t think she was angry or anything; she really didn’t have much to say for this time of day. However, a few moments later, as they passed over a broken ridge, Kate interrupted the silence.

  “I’ve given it some thought,” she said, as she was staring out the window. “And I think you’re right. Still life is boring, so I decided to try an action shot.”

  “Really?” said Jake, more surprised than he had been in a long time.

  “Yeah. It’s a really neat shot idea. I think you’ll be impressed.”

  She held him in suspense for several seconds. When she didn’t say anything more, he gestured her to speak.

  “Well, what is it?” he asked.

  She smiled.

  “Jump out of the helicopter, and I’ll take a picture of you waving up at me.”

  Jake associated her attempt at a joke as the equivalent of receiving a wedgie. But, if she was willing to try something different, maybe he could laugh with her.

  “Okay,” he said. “If it’s for art.”

  He unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up, and reached for the door handle. As he began to turn it, he looked back and smiled. She held her camera up to her eye.

  “Do you have a good angle?” he asked.

  He could see her lips curl upward from just underneath the camera box.

  “Perfect. Now all that’s left to do is jump.”

  “Shouldn’t you be a little closer to my side so that you can catch me on the descent?”

  Kate lowered her camera and nodded.

  “That might make a better shot, but we’re flying so fast that I could probably catch you from either window.”

  “But if you slide over to my side, you’ll get a much better shot. The trick to a successful action shot is to get the effect without sacrificing the size. If you catch me just as I slip out the door, you’ll have the best shot possible for this scenario. If you wait a second longer, you won’t catch me in your zoom in time, and the action shot will be lost. All you’ll have left is another still shot of some immobile thing decorating the side of the mountain. And make sure your ISO is set high enough.”

  Kate remained silent for a moment before placing her camera up to her eye again.

  “Maybe I want to go for both shots then,” she said. “Maybe I want to try something new while sticking to my trademark.”

  Jake couldn’t help but to feel that his point was rapidly slipping away. He released the door handle for just a moment, hoping that his next words would actually reach her this time.

  “Do you want to take a good picture or a wasted one?” he asked.

  Kate lowered her camera again. Instead of responding with words, she placed her tool back in her bag. She zipped everything up, then set the bag to her side. Jake wasn’t sure what else to say. Somehow he thought this woman was unreachable.

  Jake stared at his companion with mild regret before sitting back down in his seat. Despite the occasional banter they often shared, he thought that they communicated with each other well. But this time there seemed to be an invisible wall built solidly between them. Maybe it was her stubborn ways that blocked her from understanding his point of view, or maybe he didn’t explain himself properly. Regardless of the problem, he decided that she wasn’t going to change her focus on this trip, so he buckled himself up and let the thought die. He looked out the window to see what lurked below.

  “You weren’t really going to jump were you?” she asked suddenly.

  Jake looked into her eyes and shrugged.

  “You weren’t really going to take a picture of me were you?”

  Kate cracked a smile at him. Perhaps he had made a small cut into that tough exterior of hers after all. She looked out her window and hummed. If she was unreachable, at least she was mildly readable. If only she had slid over.

 

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