Detroit, March 1963
Nora was finding it difficult to breathe. The man in the photo wore the same hat, the same suit and tie, the same shoes shined to reflective brilliance. She recognized the nose, the mouth, the eyes, though they were distorted. The high forehead drawn into deep furrows. Lips twisted into a shout. Left hand packed into a fist at his side. Right hand reaching out, clawlike, and wearing a familiar ring. He was lunging at the camera. Or rather, at whoever had held it.
“That’s the last photograph I took with that camera,” came a silky voice behind her.
Nora spun around to find she stood eye to chest with a man in a loose white button-up shirt tucked into black pants. She took a step back. The man smiling down at her was lean and striking, with skin the color of dark mahogany and deep brown eyes. A badge clipped to his breast pocket proclaimed “Exhibitor.”
“You took this picture?”
The man nodded and held out his hand. “I took all the photos on this wall.”
“Where did you take this?” Nora asked, ignoring the proffered hand. She certainly wouldn’t shake it.
“I took that outside the GM building a few months back. That fellow was mad. Right after I took that photo he smashed my camera on the sidewalk. You believe that? I grabbed it up quick and took off. Saved the film, but that thing ain’t never gonna take no more pictures, that’s for sure.”
“What did you do to him?”
The man held up both hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t do nothing to that guy.”
“Well, you must have done something. Why was he so angry? Why would he attack you?”
The man shook his head. “Men like that don’t need a reason.”
“Like what?”
“You know. Big men. They don’t need a reason for anything they do. Do whatever they want, no consequences.”
Nora could tell she was scowling. She relaxed her facial muscles. Scowling at twenty meant wrinkles at thirty, or so her mother reminded her with some regularity.
“I just don’t understand what would cause him to do that. He’s not—” She stopped short and saw something click in the man’s mind.
He opened his mouth, but before he could ask the question, Diane slid up, already speaking.
“Did you see that series with the enormous twins on little motorbikes down the south hall? It was hideously creepy. I mean, twins are disturbing anyway and—” She suddenly seemed to realize that no one was listening to her. “Hey, what’s the deal?” She turned to look at the picture Nora was attempting to block with her petite frame. “Oh my word, is that your dad?” Her voice echoed in the stark hall.
“Keep your voice down.” Nora tipped her head toward the lanky photographer.
“Oh,” Diane said. She pulled the strap of her purse over her head.
“He took the picture,” Nora said under her breath.
The man lifted one hand in greeting, then put both in his pockets.
“Serious?” She let out a little snort, then stifled her laughter at Nora’s disapproving glare. “Well, I guess you two must have something to talk about. I’ll just be over . . . somewhere.”
She scuttled off, leaving Nora to face the awkward situation alone.
“Listen, miss, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know.”
Nora shook her head rapidly. “No, no. No need to apologize. But of course I must ask you to take it down.”
He frowned. “Take it down? It’s the best one of the bunch. Judging doesn’t happen till three o’clock. There’s no way I’m taking it down before then.”
Nora clenched her fists and manufactured a smile. “Please? Lots of people know my father. Someone will recognize him.”
“So?” He shrugged.
“So?”
“Yeah, so what if he’s recognized? I hope he is. Why shouldn’t he be?”
Nora felt herself scowling again. “Because that’s rude. It’s incredibly rude to take a picture of someone when they are upset and then plaster it all over for the world to see.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Rude? Ain’t it rude to attack someone? To destroy someone’s property? You know how much overtime I had to work to afford that camera? I need that prize money. That prize money’s gonna buy me a new camera.”
Nora opened her mouth but couldn’t find anything to say.
“That’s what I thought,” the man said. He turned to walk away.
“Wait! I’ll buy you a new camera.”
He turned back, mouth twisted, eyebrows raised.
“I’ll buy you a new camera,” she said again, “if you give me that photo right now.”
A bemused little smile crept over his face. “You’ll buy me a camera?”
“You gonna buy me a camera?”
“Yes, if you give me that photo.”
The man laughed. “You ain’t gonna buy me no camera.”
She took a step forward to show she was in earnest. “Yes, I will. You give me the name of the camera you want and I will go straight out right now and buy it for you. All I ask in exchange is that you take down that photo immediately and give it to me when I give you the camera.”
Nora felt her insides squirm as the man bit his lip and looked her up and down, considering.
“All right, little lady. You got yourself a deal. But you got till just 2:30 to get me a new camera. If you don’t show, that photo’s going back up before the judges come around.”
“Fine.” She dug in her purse for a pen and piece of paper. “Write down what you want—exactly what you want. If you’re not specific, you’ll just have to take what you get.”
He smirked as he scribbled out Nikon F and then held the paper out to her. She took the slip and looked pointedly at the photo.
“All right, all right,” he said. “It’s coming down.” He lifted the framed print off the wall and looked from it to Nora and back again. “I can see the resemblance now.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment and breathed slowly through her nose. “Very funny. Where will you put it?”
“I got a box, don’t worry.”
She stuck the slip of paper into her jacket pocket and looked at the delicate silver watch on her wrist. “I’ll try to be back in thirty minutes or so.”
He gave her a mock salute. “Hey, you know that’s an expensive camera, right? It’s what professionals use. You sure you can afford it?”
It was Nora’s turn to smirk. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”