Twenty Photographs
BY BRIDGET GRIEVE-CARLSON
Olivia
She parks her car on the side of the road and stops at a field of sunflowers she has passed ten times since she’s moved here. She walks through the field and when she finds a soft spot among the flowers, she lies down on the ground and points her camera up towards the blue, clean sky. As she looks through her lens, she feels as though patient sunflower beings are peering down on her, amused. Photo #1.
The next morning Olivia goes to a photo processing machine and gets a copy. She likes the photo. She goes home and finds a wire clothes hanger from the closet. She strings four pieces of wire from it. On each wire she attaches five metal clips. She takes the photo and she hangs it from the first clip on the first wire. Then she hangs the hanger from a hook on the living room ceiling.
She can hear the key in the lock. Her husband walks in from work, to find her staring at her makeshift photo holder.
“Hey, what’s this?” he asks.
“Remember I told you I’m having a hard time feeling at home in this town? I don’t really feel like I belong here?”
“I remember,” he says, as he stands next to her looking from her angle at the photo holder and its one photo.
“I had a dream the other night. You know that hill on the edge of town near the cemetery? I dreamed that I was standing on that hill looking down at this town. I felt at the time that I was really there, but I have never been to the top of that hill. I felt like the dream was telling me to look at this town a different way, from another angle.”
“What does the dream have to do with this?”
“I thought another way to look at this town was through the lens of my camera. I thought I would take photos of all different aspects of this area. I’d hang them on here. I have twenty clips. I’d make myself fill it up.”
“That photo is beautiful. That’s a nice start.”
Julia
She sits in the doctor’s office waiting, always the waiting, she thinks, until finally Dr. Keller comes in, clipboard in hand.
“So let’s see. Just here for a check-up. Any problems with the treatments?”
“Besides being sick for a couple of days after and not having an appetite, I’m fine.”
“You are eating, though?”
“Yes.”
“How is everything else going?” he asks, as he starts to examine her. “How’s the family doing?”
“Most of my family likes to pretend I’m fine. They avoid talking about it.”
“You need support. Have you thought about joining the support group I told you about that meets once a week at the Medical Center?”
“I’m not a ‘join a group and tell everyone my problems’ kind of person.”
“You should think about it. It might help keep your spirits up.”
“There isn’t a whole lot to be uplifted about lately.”
“I know this is easy for me to say, but keep your spirits up. Find a way. Join the group, find an inspirational book to read when you’re down, heck, rent some Three Stooges videos and laugh. Do whatever it is you need to do. I have been doing this a long time. I’ve cared for a lot of patients. The ones who find some support and find a way to keep their spirits up seem to do better than the folks who don’t. I know it doesn’t sound very scientific, but I see it over and over.”
“Thanks, doctor. Are you going to charge me extra for that advice?”
“Good,” he says. “You still have your sense of humor.”
When he is finished he leaves her alone in the room to change back into her street clothes.
Olivia
It is summer. It is hot and raining hard. Her family is stuck inside. After the storm her husband calls her and the kids outside. She can see the steam rising from the street. Her eyes follow where he is pointing. The sky down the street is filled with a double rainbow. Photo #2.
Over the next few months, Olivia discovers a garden of lavender in the back of someone’s yard, walks through a field near town to find an abundance of unusual wild flowers, and on a hiking trail stumbles upon a brook with a miniature waterfall and, a few yards from it, a solitary pink lady slipper. Photos #3-11.
Julia
Julia stands looking into the front window of the local bookstore. Inside the window are copies of the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People. She remembers what her doctor said about finding something inspirational to keep her spirits up. A woman stands next to her. She is also looking at the books in the window. Julia says to her, “They’re coming out with a sequel to this book, you know, When Good Things Happen to Bad People.” The woman turns towards Julia, surprised anyone is even there. She looks right in Julia’s eyes, and when she does, Julia can see the surprise in her face. She has lost most of her eyebrow and eyelash hair to the chemo. The woman is startled. She moves on. Julia has noticed this about herself lately. She says odd things to people, friends and strangers. Her mouth has taken on a life of its own. She decides not to go into the bookstore and walks, instead, to her car.
Olivia
It is fall. She comes home after spending two hours in the center of town. She walked the streets taking photos of the old homes and buildings. The last picture of the day is the picture of an old movie theater someone completely restored over the last few years. She is amazed at this labor of love. She points the camera up to take a moviegoer’s view of the neon marquee lit up against the dark night. Photos #13-16.
The next day she takes her kids out into the backyard to enjoy the beautiful day. Her little daughter lies on the grass staring at something. Olivia goes over and sees she has discovered a large, vibrant green praying mantis in the grass. Her daughter stares at it for a long time. Olivia has never seen one before except in pictures. Her daughter is mesmerized as though it is a creature from another world. Olivia takes her camera and lies in the grass on the other side of the mantis. She focuses in clearly on the praying mantis so her daughter’s inquisitive face softens in the viewfinder. Photo #17.
Julia
Julia walks into the old church. She remembers seeing it from the outside so many times and never going in, but she makes a special trip to go on this night when she knows it is lit only by candle light. She sits in a pew while people come in, light remembrance candles, drop coins into little metal boxes and sit down in the church, some praying, some resting. She is surprised by the amount of people here taking a respite from the outside world in this little stone church. For the first time in a long while she feels at peace in this candle-lit sanctuary.
Olivia
“Mommy will be right back. I’m going to get the mail.”
Olivia leaves the door open a crack and slips outside, walking down the driveway. There is no snow on the ground, but the day is so cold, it looks like anything outside will crack and break if you touch it. When she walks back up the driveway she can hear the door slam shut. When she reaches the door she can see her three-year-old son sitting in the living room. She knocks on the door. He knows she is there, but ignores her. It is only four o’clock in the afternoon, but there is no sunlight, just a blue haze from behind the cumbersome clouds that make it look like night is about to fall. She touches the door knob. It is frozen in her hands. He is trying to turn on the television. He does. He gets himself crackers off the kitchen table and sits and watches the show. She knocks again. He ignores her.
She knows what she has to do, but she doesn’t want to. She goes over to her neighbor and asks to borrow her phone. This is not the first time this has happened, and when the neighbor hands it to her it is with a pitying look. She has no children so she has nothing to gauge it to, but clearly Olivia is not good at this parenting thing. She gets ahold of her husband and asks him to rescue her. She checks again on her son and then goes into the back yard. She sits on the picnic table and waits. That’s when she notices it. A single, perfect yellow flower in the middle of her dead flower bed, standing erect and fresh, surrounded by dead, moldy gray growth she should have pulled out and discarded months ago. The car drives up. She stands up and goes to her husband.
“You must be freezing,” he says, and he puts his arms around her. “Let’s get inside. Before I forget,” he says, as they stand in the kitchen and he rubs his hands up and down her arms to warm her up, “the art gallery in town wants to do a show on local talent. I thought you could submit your photos.”
“You think it’s art?”
“I’m sure there will be people submitting photographs.”
“It isn’t finished. I only have 17 photos.”
“Submit it anyway. The empty clips will make people think. Call it modern art. Now you go warm up, and I’ll deal with this guy.”
After checking on her napping daughter, Olivia remembers the flower. She goes back outside before it gets too dark. A fresh, little yellow flower standing alone among the frozen and dead. Photo #18.
Julia
She walks by a local gallery. She has never gone in, but this time she sees the latest show is by local talent. She walks around and looks at each piece: clay pots, photos, paintings, sculptures, even collages. She wonders if she had had a talent for something, would it have helped during this illness? To get her hands in clay, or to have made swirls with a paint brush. Then she sees something unusual, a grouping of photos hanging from wires. They shift with the breeze coming from the door opening and closing. It looks like they are waving to her to come closer. She walks over and stares at a whole collection of beautiful unique photos and a few empty clips.
Olivia + Julia
While Olivia is standing by her picture display on the last night of the art show, a woman comes up and stands near her looking at her pictures. She is wearing a scarf, and Olivia can tell by the way it is positioned on her head, there’s very little hair underneath. She tries not to stare. The woman can tell by Olivia’s nametag, she is the photographer.
“It didn’t win a prize?” she asks.
“No.”
“I think it should have won something.”
“Thank you.”
“I have to apologize.”
“Why?”
“I took something from you.”
“What?”
“I took one of your photos.”
“Oh,” Olivia says and smiles.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“Which photo?”
Julia pulls the photo of the flower in winter out of her purse.
“Really, that one?”
Julia reaches over to give it to her.
“Keep it.”
“Are you sure?”
Olivia smiles and nods. “I’m Olivia.”
“I’m Julia, nice to meet you.”
“Let me show you something,” says Olivia. She picks her backpack up and takes an envelope out. She opens it up. Inside are copies of some of the pictures clipped to the hanger.
“You mean I’m not the only one?”
“No. At first I thought it was strange to see photos missing. Then I kind of felt complimented. This one’s popular,” says Olivia, as she points to her daughter observing a praying mantis in the grass, “and the one you picked. That’s popular, too. Why’d you take it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Julia looks at the photo. “I’ve gone through life learning about God and heaven and what’s the meaning of life and if there is any meaning, and you don’t realize at the time you’re sitting there passive, learning what everyone else believes, what other people tell you. Then you get sick and all that stuff comes crashing down around you. It doesn’t hold up because they were not your ideas. You don’t know what to believe. But there was always something I knew. Something no one taught me. Something I just knew from the time I was a little child. There’s something inside me that can never die, something at my core that is alive and well and always will be no matter what happens. This picture helps me remember this.”
“It does?” she says, incredulous. Olivia looks at it again.
“Does it have any special meaning to you?” asks Julia.
“Yes, but it’s not as profound.”
“Tell me.”
“It reminds me that my children are smarter than me, my neighbor thinks I shouldn’t be left in charge of children, and to unlock the door to my house before I step out, especially in winter.”
This makes Julia laugh.
“Are you going to be alright?” Olivia asks, while glancing over at her scarf.
“I don’t know.” There is silence for a moment, then, “Thanks.”
“What for?” Olivia asks.
“For letting me say that.”
“Can I take your picture?”
“Why would you want to take my picture?”
“Because you have a nice smile.”
Olivia puts the viewfinder up to her eye. Julia adjusts her scarf, tightens it, puts her hands down to her sides, self-consciously, and smiles. Photo #19.
Olivia
Olivia parks her car on the side of the road. She puts the strap of her camera around her neck and gets out of her car. She walks up the hill she has only been to in her dreams, and when she reaches the top takes a long look at her new town, then takes her camera and views it through the viewfinder, and shoots. Photo #20.