Apr 29

Apr 29 Point And Shoot For Your Life

Point And Shoot For Your Life - book excerpt

Chapter 1

I focused the lens of my Pentax-K 500 and saw the heaving, creamy breasts bobble over the pink lace un-derwired push-up bra. As I adjusted the angle of view to include the pouty red, plastic-like,high-gloss lips and diamond-pierced nostril, I asked myself,why the hell am I shooting porn?

The taped paper makeshift sign on the door read, Hannah Mills –Freelance Photographer, ‘freelance’ being the operative word. I liked doing freelance, and I convinced myself I liked living in the historic, quaint town of Sharpsburg, Maryland. I suppose it was easier to remember my glory days of playing soccer at Boonsboro High School, where I graduated with honors and then received my B.F.A. in art and photography at the Maryland Institute College of Arts, than to think of my current situation…broke.

Because of my fear of being thrown out into the world and having to geta job, I chose to go after my M.F.A. in photographic and electronic media and then became one of the boomerang kids living with my parents, George and Daphne Mills, at the age of twenty-three, with mounds of academic debt.

Fast-forward eight years and I’m no further along with my dream of being a highly respected photo-grapher for National Geographic or Microsoft Corporation, bringing down a salary of fifty-thousand a year. In fact, I recently lost my second job as a clerk at the local BP station because I was late, for the fifth time, and didn’t open the store for the early morning commuters.

Brittany Carson cleared her throat and said, “Are you taking pictures or just pretending? I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’d like to get these finished for my Harry.”

Brittany was a petite-framed, five-foot-two, bleached blonde bimbo who got knocked up at the age of sixteen to Harry Carson, the local auto mechanic. They live in an apartment above the garage on Antietam Street. Brittany tends bar at the local watering hole called Pete’s, and it was rumored she did porn movies on the side, which would account for the double D’s she had implanted after the birth of her second child.

I did an imaginary eye roll and continued taking pictures for her cheesy pin-up calendar, which would probably only pay me enough to make a car payment on my used 1998 cyclone blue pearl Honda Civic.

I stood up from my squatting position and said, “I think I have enough for you to use in your calendar. So why’d you decide to do this for Harry? I mean, you’ve been married over six years and have two kids together.”

“Because we’re approaching that seven year itch thingy.” She gave me that hollow look and continued, “You know that thing that guys do when they get the itch to look elsewhere after seven years of marriage? I don’t plan on letting that happen. So I thought I’d give this to him to hang in the garage. He’ll be able to brag me up to his customers and only have eyes for me when he comes home.”

I chose not to respond, because I needed the money and didn’t want to give my usual sarcastic reply to piss her off. “What a nice thing to do for your husband.”

Brittany got up off the blanket and stretched for her robe. “How have you been doing since Brett picked up and left?”

I chose not to answer her question at that moment and continued to lookat my camera, pretending to be doing something photography-wise, when I caught her stare out of the corner of my eye. “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”

“I asked how you were since Brett dumped you?”

“I’m doing great. Life is much better without him in it.”

Brett Thomas was a guy I fell madly in love with and lied that I was a virgin when we met at the Corner Pub on Mulberry Street in Hagerstown. After three weeks, we moved in together in his townhouse on East Chapline Street in Sharpsburg, which is where I currently reside. The rent is fair, and the view of the Antietam Battlefield is magnificent.

Unfortunately, Brett decided he was suffocating and left in the middle of the night, leaving me with a recliner, a park bench make-shift sofa, a plastic coffee table, one oddly shaped, green glass lamp and a 1999Sharp television set. He knew better than to touch the dining room set, which was a gift from my Great Aunt Dorothy.

“I thought you were going to be some famous photographer and move to the big city or something. That’s what your mom said.” Brittany finished dressing in her cut-off jean shorts, tube top, and red spike-heeled sandals and casually handed me a check for one hundred and fifty bucks.

I grabbed the check and slipped it into the back pocket of my skinny jeans and said, “Yeah, well my mom says a lot of things. Thanks again and I’ll send these pics to your email address. Once you choose your favorite twelve and decide which pic goes to which month, I’ll design the calendar.”

Brittany blew a pouty kiss into the air and winked. “Thanks again, Hannah, you’re the best. I’ll get back to you soon.”

I watched her sashay out of my studio, which was an empty room of the vacant old theatre on Mechanic Street, owned by Diane Hall. Diane is a real estate agent for Coldwell Banker, and a close friend of my mother’s, who always took pity on the less fortunate. Apparently, I fell into that category. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to have a free space to use for my clients, but it got a little old listening to Diane’s poor Hannah statement every time I saw her.

I had fifteen minutes before the bank closed to make my car payment, so I chose to leave my equipment as is and locked the door behind me. Jefferson Security Bank was located at the square on Main Street and only a half block away from my studio.

I was waitingfor the incessant traffic to break when I spotted my landlord, Connor Barnes, and imme-diately ducked behind a tree, which did absolutely nothing to conceal me. Fortunately, he was busy jamming a piece of PVC pipe into his truck and didn’t notice me. I was a week late on my rent and didn’t feel like making excuses again, or lying that I had the rent check sitting on my kitchen counter.

I slipped through the zooming cars and darted into the bank and tried to avoid Otto Lansbury’s disturbing flirtations and made the payment. Then I quickly crossed the street and decided to head over to my brother Justin’s place to check up on any family gossip, and mainly hide out until I knew Connor was nowhere in sight.

I jumped into my car and drove around the block to Church Street and made a right back onto Main Street and headed east toward Boonsboro. It was only a fifteen-minute drive to my brother’s place, and the view of farms and open fields along the way was always pleasant.

I turned into the Sycamore Run development and weaved around the first bend and pulled into the long blacktop driveway, which led to the split-level, brown brick and cream, vinyl-sided house. I spotted Justin trimming a lilac tree, wearing jeans, a Metallica concert t-shirt, and Timberland work boots. He’s six foot three with the same dirty blond hair as me, only his eyes are brown versus my green, and he was born ten years earlier. In fact, our birthdays are three days apart, which isa bone of contention with Justin because he always felt like he got robbed when I was born.

I parked next to his Ford F-250 blazing red-hot truck, waved and gave him one of my cheesy smiles. I got out and walked over to where he was sweating and throwing dead limbs into a bucket. “So, how’s my favorite brother doing?”

He casually gazed up at me and squinted at the sun. “I’m your only brother and I’m fine, but I’ve been waiting for your niece to get home. Between her college graduation, turning twenty-one, and her whining about getting a job, I needed something to do to keep my mind occupied.”

My niece Amanda, Mandy for short, isa wild child, which are the exact words my mother uses to describe her behavior. You see, Justin got divorced when Mandy was six and had to move back in with my parents and me. It was a good thing Mom didn’t work; she was able to stay at home with us.

His ex-wife (her name is never mentioned in our conversations…kind of like Voldemort) kept the house they bought and continued to run around with the neighborhood strays until she got herself pregnant and ran off with a guy from Texas.

Needless to say, she didn’t want anything to do with Mandy and dropped her off on my parents’ doors-tep. My brother’s house went into foreclosure, and the world was turned upside down for Justin and Mandy, but we all pitched in to help raise her. I was only nine when Justin announced the news that he’d got her pregnant. My parents said it wouldn’t last and they were right; however, as time went on Amanda became very angry that her mother had just dumped her and never stayed in touch. For some reason, I became her closest confidant, and to this day we are more like sisters.

After a few years of backbreaking work, Justin started his own landscaping business, which has grown into a thriving company of fifteen employees. He was able to move out and buy the house down the block from my parents, pay for Mandy’s college education, and of course float me a loan or two over the years.

I leaned over and took a sniff of the lavender flower and closed my eyes. “I love this tree. So, tell me, where is Mandy arriving from?”

“She’s still over Tammy’s place after a night of partying. She’s supposed to get home and start helping me in the office.”

“Why don’t you give her the summer off? She just graduated, and you know what it’s like to turn twenty-one?”

Justin got up from all fours and grabbed the bucket of lifeless flowers and shook his head. “Good old Auntie Hannah. You’re always sticking up for Amanda. Look, if I don’t put her to work right away to give her a sense of what it’s like in the real world, she may end up like…”

“Like who…? Like me? Is that what you were going to say?” I slammed my hands on my hips and stuck out my chin.

“Yeah, exactly like you. You know damn well you stayed in school so you wouldn’t have to get a job. You’ve been skating along for the past ten years. Hannah, I love you to death, but you’re thirty-one and you have nothing to show for it.”

I shrugged my shoulders and followed him into the garage. “I know that. I just don’t like hearing some-one else say it. Look, any day now someone will see my work and bam, I’ll be sitting pretty.”

“Mm-hm, well until then, I don’t need you taking sides with Amanda when she starts whining that she doesn’t want to go to work. She has a business degree now, and I plan on teaching her my business. If she chooses to work somewhere else, that’s fine, but until then she needs the work experience. And I could use the help.”

“Hey, I could work for you.”

Justin dumped the yard waste into the back of his pickup truck and shook his head. “Oh no, we tried that, remember? You were never on time, and you screwed up the payroll. Face it. You’re not office material.”

I sheepishly said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. By the way, did Mitch ever forgive me for messing up his social security?”

“Let’s just say you’d be best not to show up at the office for a while.”

I heard a horn and turned to see Mandy pulling into the driveway in her brand new, pewter-gray convertible Mustang. “Is that her graduation present?”

“Yeah, I got a great deal at Massey Ford in Hagerstown.”

“You always get a great deal.” I walked over to the polished vehicle and shook my head. “Hello there, Mandy, aren’t you looking fancy in these new wheels?”

Mandy’s smile revealed well-shaped, even, white teeth, which was the result of braces at age fourteen. She was an inch taller than me, and her hair was the shade of sable, which was tied back into a ponytail with a bright pink scrunchy. The pink paisley sundress fell tight against her slender body. Another reason she gave my brother gray hair.

“Aunt Hannah, I’m so glad to see you. Wait until I tell you what happened at Tammy’s place.” She looked at her father and whispered, “Maybe it’d be better to tell you in private.”

I fell into her opened arms and took in her Cotton Candy fragrance and squeezed her back. “Yes, I be-lieve there are certain conversations your dad would prefer not to hear.”

She reached into the back seat and pulled out a box marked Only To Be Opened by Addressee. “Here, Nana gave me this to give to you. It’s been driving her crazy to know what it is and she said as soon as you open it, you’re supposed to let them know what it is immediately.”

“Who would be sending me a package?” I didn’t recognize the return address, but the state was New Jersey, which is where Great Aunt Dorothy lived, who died two months ago. “It’s from Jersey. I wonder if it’s from Great Aunt Dorothy’s estate.”

Justin shook his head and grabbed hold of Mandy and kissed her forehead as he stared at me. “I don’t know why Aunt Dorothy had such a fascination with you. The whole family thought she was a nut. Maybe she left you some money.”

“She wasn’t a nut, just a bit eccentric, and I highly doubt it’s money. If it were, it’d be a check in a small envelope.” I looked again at the return address and saw the words, Andrew Gerard, Esquire.

“Don’t just stand there, open it!” Mandy grabbed the box and ran over to the picnic table and set it on the bench. “Here, I have a nail file that’ll cut the tape.”

I watched her slice the tape and carefully open the cardboard flaps. I leaned over and pulled away the white tissue paper and revealed a linear-striped, black and cream blanket. I lifted it from the box and held it up as it unfolded in front of me.

Justin asked, “Is it a blanket or a rug?”

“I think it’s a blanket. It looks to be made of wool, but it almost feels like silk.” I draped it over my arm and allowed them to touch the soft fibers.

“Why would Great Aunt Dorothy send you a blanket?” Mandy looked back in the box and pulled out a sealed envelope. “It has your name on the front.”

I set the blanket on top of the box and took the envelope addressed to me. I tore it open and pulled out a handwritten letter from Great Aunt Dorothy. As I began to read the words, I stopped short on a sentence that stated First Phase Indian Chief Navaho blanket. “She says it’s a Chief Navaho blanket. Her grandmother gave it to her. She’s kept it in this tissue in the box ever since. She thinks it may be worth something because she saw a similar one on the Antiques Roadshow, but she never had it appraised.”

Justin picked up the blanket and said, “There’s definitely some age to it.”

“What are you going to do with it? Are you going to have it appraised?” I watched Mandy take the blanket from Justin and snuggle it around her shoulders.

“I have no idea what to do. I wouldn’t know how to get it appraised.” I needed to steady my legs a bit, so I walked over to the picnic bench and sat down and continued reading the letter. I read the salutation and let the paper fall into my lap. “This is crazy. What if it is worth something?”

“If it is, you’re going to be rich, and you can finally pay back the money you owe me.” Justin winked at me and grabbed the end of the blanket and ran it between his forefinger and thumb.

I suddenly remembered why I came here in the first place and knew I had to get the courage to ask Jus-tin, again, for half my rent money. Although, with the way I wear my emotions, I could see him giving me that you’ve got to be kidding look. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“Because you’re about to ask me for money, aren’t you? I can read you like a book.” Justin shook his head and pulled out his wallet. “How much this time?”

I gave him my best guilty ‘poor me’ face and said, “I only need half of my rent.”

“Which is…?”

“Four hundred and fifty should cover it.”

Justin looked straight into Mandy’s eyes and said, “This is exactly why I want you to start working in my office. So you don’t end up like this, begging for rent money.”

“Aw, Dad, Aunt Hannah is living the dream. She’s following her passion.”

I caught my brother’s eye and could instantly read his mind, which was warning me about how careful I needed to be before I spoke. “Mandy, your dad is right. You need to get out in the world and begin to make a living for yourself. You don’t want to rely on others. I think working in the office will help you understand business, how things work from the ground up. It’s not a lot of fun living from day to day not knowing how you’ll pay for your next meal.”

Mandy’s eyes were wide and revealed more sclera than normal. I knew she was utterly shocked at what I just said. “You’re the one who keeps telling me to live my dream. To go after what makes me happy and live and think outside of the box.”

Justin said, “Yeah, well, you need to work and make money, so you’re not living inside of a box on the street. Now, let’s head into the house and discuss your work schedule.”

I watched Mandy’s shoulders slump as she grimaced at the touch of her father’s hand on her back. I knew I’d just thrown her a curveball, but I needed to respect my brother’s wishes, and I couldn’t completely disagree with how scary it was at night not knowing how I would pay my bills. I waved goodbye and grabbed the blanket and decided to head over to my parents. I wasn’t thrilled about that idea, either, but I wanted to pick their brains on how I might find a legitimate appraiser. Maybe the blanket would be worth something, and I could finally set myself up for life. Then again, it could be worthless, and I’d wind up using it as a throw over the back of my fancy, makeshift,park bench couch. It may actually work with the throw cushions I added. Who was I kidding…? My life was a mess.