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Ryan Sylander
Looking Through The Lens http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ryansylander/www/ Chapter 6
A week later, Brian and Carmen broke up. Brian had made the mistake of teasing Carmen about passing out and making me carry her through the woods. And the puking came up too, a detail which Brian had unfortunately gleaned from me. After a few days Carmen told him to fuck off, and that was the end of that. Brian thought the whole situation was humorous, and just blew it off. Unfortunately, Carmen saw me as some kind of hero for helping her out. It was a role I neither chose nor felt I had played, but she’d started telling some people about it. Pretty soon word got around that she was interested in me. I tried to ignore it, and hoped that the whole thing would go away. The situation was making me uncomfortable, particularly since Brian was involved. Our relationship was definitely strained since the night of the woods party. A couple of weeks after Brian and Carmen split, our band was practicing in our guesthouse. Brian was hanging out, too. “So Matt, are you gonna go out with Carmen?” asked Brian during a break. “What are you talking about,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. I was wondering when he was going to bring this up. “Word has it that she has the hots for you.” “I don’t know anything about that. Besides, I’m with Julie, so… no.” “You should do it,” Brian continued. I looked at him with a grimace. “Did you not hear what I just said?” I asked. “I heard you, but I still don’t see what you’re waiting for. Carmen isn’t that bad, especially at first. Then her personality starts getting in the way, but whatever. Besides, have you heard from Julie yet?” I took a long breath. Brian bringing up the Julie issue was starting to become both daily and annoying. “No, I haven’t.” There was no use lying about it. “Well, there you go,” he said emphatically. “Besides, I don’t care if you go out with Carmen, I’m finished with her.” “Oh, thanks, that’s good to know,” I said sarcastically. The others just watched silently. “C’mon, let’s try this song again,” I said. Fortunately Brian didn’t bring up Julie or Carmen again that day.
Winter break came, and the Carmen thing calmed down since school was out. Beth and Hans came to visit for a couple of weeks. On the one hand, I loved skiing with Hans; he really skied well and wasn’t afraid of going off the trail or finding fun ledges to jump off of. I always skied better after he visited. He inspired me to try skiing harder. On the other hand, having my aunt there meant the subject of Julie was going to be discussed in more detail than I had been forced to divulge to my parents. Apparently Julie hadn’t visited my aunt in a few months, although she had seen Julie around town a few times. I mentioned that I hadn’t heard much from her in a while, and didn’t know what was going on, except that she was probably really busy. I’m sure Beth read more into my words, and figured out that Julie hadn’t written me for a long time. I wasn’t exactly evasive, since I actually didn’t know what was going on. But I had a feeling my aunt would be calling on Julie when she got back to Montauk. This was double edged: it would be good to know what was going on, but it was probably not going to be something I’d be happy to find out. Hans and Beth brought an unexpected gift with them. The night that they arrived, they carried in couple of large cardboard boxes which they set gently on the living room table. “Look what I found when I was cleaning out my closet,” announced Beth. We gathered around the boxes, wondering what could possibly be in them. The boxes were old and worn, but still sturdy. Hans cut through the tape with his pocket knife, and opened the flaps of one box. “Cameras?” said Lara. “Your father’s,” said Hans with a nod. “I forgot you still had those,” said Sarah quietly. “Yeah, every time I came across them I would make a mental note to bring them, or have you take them back with you, but then I’d always forget,” said Beth with a small chuckle. “The kids might like to see them, though.” Sarah and Melissa looked at each other, reaching for each other’s hands. There was sadness in their eyes. I looked inside the box. There were all kinds of camera boxes, a few camera bags, some plastic wrapped parcels, trays, containers, and some other things which I didn’t even recognize. “I knew he took a lot of pictures, but I didn’t know he collected cameras,” said Lara. “He had some cameras that came through his business contacts,” said Sarah. She let out a wistful laugh. “I don’t know if you could quite call it a collection, since he was always moving them and getting others. But I think these are the ones he was keeping for himself.” I delicately pulled out a plain box. Inside there were three wrapped items: a larger rectangular object and two smaller round objects. I removed a camera body out of the large plastic wrapping. I didn’t know much about cameras, but I could tell this was of a whole different quality than the plastic camera which our family owned now. The black metal body had a white script ‘Leica’ engraved on it, and under it was written ‘Ernst Leitz Canada Ltd., Midland, Canada.’ There was also a somewhat odd description to the right: ‘Camera, Still Picture, KE-7A.’ There were dials with numbers on the top and back, and a film-advance lever that rotated around what must be the shutter button. Another round knob was cocked at an angle on the corner of the camera. Everything was precise and the camera had a certain solidness that felt just right. I handed it to Lara, as I pulled out one of the small round packages. Inside was a black lens. There were a few rows of cryptic numbers written around the barrel. I took off the lens cap, and looked at the smooth glass that fronted the lens. On the front rim was written ‘ELCAN f/2 50MM’, and some other numbers. I removed the back cap, fitted the lens up to the body, and after some gentle experimentation, the lens rotated and clicked into place. I looked through the little round view window, moving the camera across the room. Lara posed with a smile as I aimed at her. When I looked through at my mothers, there were tears in their eyes. I put the camera down, and looked at them soberly. Beth put an arm around Melissa. “I’m sorry,” said Sarah, wiping away a wet streak. “We can put them away,” I said. “No, no, I’m okay. It’s just that these cameras bring back many old memories,” she sniffed. “And you kind of… look like Chris when he looked through the camera,” she added softly. “I suppose these would bring back memories,” said Hans. I watched the adults exchange sad smiles of a time long past. I wondered what pictures these cameras had taken. I picked up the camera body again, looking it over with even more interest. My father had once held this in his hands. I felt a little closer to him, in some small, but significant way. “Do they all work?” I asked. “Sure, your father used them,” said Sarah. “He had a few regular cameras that he used mostly, though. I’m sure they are in there somewhere.” “Regular cameras? You mean like our camera?” asked Lara. “No,” said Sarah, “we used one of your father’s cameras for a while when you were younger, but when the newer cameras came out that were automatic, we put these away. Hans took them into the city to have them looked at, a few years ago.” “More than a few,” he said with a shake of his head. Melissa scooted over next to me, and looked over the camera I was still holding. She turned the camera over, and then pointed to three serial numbers printed on the back of the camera body. “Most of these are interesting cameras collectors were looking for. If I’m not mistaken, this camera was a military camera. I think that’s what these numbers were related to.” “I thought Dad didn’t like the military,” said Lara. Sarah laughed. “He didn’t always agree with their actions, true. But he had a few clients who collected military equipment, including cameras. This was probably one that was on its way to a client and he decided to keep it instead.” “You can try it,” Melissa said to me. “There’s no film, but it will still click.” “The batteries are probably dead, though,” I said with a shrug. Melissa laughed a little. “That camera doesn’t need batteries.” I thought for a second, puzzled. “Then how does everything move?” “It’s all manual.” I was impressed, though still skeptical. “What about the flash?” I said, pointing to the built-in flash window. “That’s not a flash. That helps you frame the picture. On this camera you have to do everything yourself,” continued Melissa. “Focus, set the aperture, shutter time, wind the film yourself, everything. If you didn’t know how to set these things just right, your pictures would turn out too dark, or out of focus.” “Why would he want it, if it was such a pain to use?” asked Lara. “Why does anyone collect anything old?” said Sarah. “But he used them, too, and some of these cameras were pretty new back then,” added Melissa. “Weren’t there better cameras back then, though?” I asked. Even though the camera I held was clearly well made by any standard, its apparent difficulty of use made me wonder why anyone would keep it. My idea of a good camera was something you took out of its case, aimed and pressed the button. Aim and press, aim and press. “Better?” repeated Melissa. “Well, better is a tough word. Easier to use, maybe a little. But don’t forget these are 15 years old, or more. Automatic focus and all that was just starting to come in. You didn’t take pictures as casually back then. That’s why we have the camera we have now. You just aim and shoot.” I laughed a little, hearing her repeat my thoughts aloud. I put the camera down on the table. I wasn’t sure what to make of them. On the one hand, it was neat to see some new part of my father’s life. On the other hand, when I first saw the cameras, I thought there might be something useful. Now it seemed that there was just a bunch of antiquated, hard-to-use cameras in a box. “They’re interesting,” I said, staring at the camera. I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I looked at Melissa. She had a knowing smile on her face, like she was withholding a secret. “What?” I asked. She picked up the camera and handed it to me. She pointed to the film wind lever. “Try it. Turn that to the right.” I turned the lever with my thumb. I was surprised at the precision of the movement. “Now press the shutter release here,” she said, pointing again. I held the view window up to my eye out of habit, and pressed the button. The camera sprang to life for a split second, and then was still again. It was an amazing feeling. I could feel the camera taking the picture through my hands. The camera was like an extension of my fingertip. Much different than the disconnected click one felt from pressing an electronic camera’s shutter release. I wound the lever and shot a few more blank frames. “Wow,” I said. “What?” asked Lara. “Here, try it.” She wound the lever and pressed the button. “That’s cool. It feels… so real.” I knew exactly what she meant.
I spent most days skiing with Hans and my friends. Brian was still giving me shit about Julie and Carmen, but I ignored it as best I could. Luckily, my bandmates didn’t mention Julie or Carmen at all, and I was glad that they at least understood. It was an uneasy winter break; what should have been two weeks of great skiing and relaxation was a tense reminder of the fact that something had gone wrong with Julie. All to soon it was time to go back to school though. The first week back, one of Carmen’s friends told me at my locker that Carmen really wanted to go out with me. I answered back that I couldn’t. I still had a girlfriend in Montauk, I explained. She said that Brian had said it was over. I told her that it wasn’t, and that Brian didn’t know what he was talking about. I didn’t know what Brian was trying to do. He seemed fixated on the Julie issue, and it was making me feel angry most of the time. My mood was rapidly becoming hostile, and it was permeating to my relationship with my parents and other friends. I started avoiding Brian when I could.
“Hey!” I yelled. My heart was pounding as I turned around in the ski lift chair and stared back down at the slopes. “What?” asked Peter. It was her. It had to be, I’d recognize that smile anywhere. She had said she skied the Catskills sometimes. She didn’t turn around though, and she disappeared over the crest of the hill. Was I seeing things? “Who was that?” asked Peter. He and Carl were both looking back, wondering who I had yelled at. I turned forwards again, lost in thought. A warm feeling of longing was surging through my body. “MATT!” they yelled. “What.” “Who did you yell to?” It couldn’t be. But if it was, could I find her among thousands of people? In the next hour? Unlikely. But I knew I had to try. And if I did? Then what? I would deal with that when, and if, I found her. “Fine, don’t tell us.” Carl and Peter were looking at me funny. I ignored them. After an eternity, the lift reached the top, and I pushed off. “I’ll see you guys at 4:30 by the lodge,” I yelled, as I skied away. I looked back and saw them make chase, but didn’t really care. I blazed down the trail, trying to take the fastest line. Once I passed the place where I had seen her, I slowed some and started looking for dark blue pants and a green jacket. It seemed like everyone had chosen to wear green jackets that day. By the time I had reached the bottom of the slopes and entered the broad area where the different lifts left from, there was a mass of people going every which way. I came to a full stop, looking around frantically, but it was useless. She could already be going up any one of the lifts, or be somewhere in the lodge, or even on her way out to the parking lot. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, and wished I could just make everyone disappear, except the one I was searching for. In my mind’s eye, I saw people swept aside by an invisible hand, and there she was, standing right in front of me, smiling. When I opened my eyes, Carl and Peter were standing in front of me, breathing hard, and definitely not smiling. I let out a long breath as they took their goggles off, looking at me strangely. “Why did you try and ditch us?” asked Peter. I felt a hard emptiness replacing the supple adrenaline I had just had searing through me. “Sorry,” was all I said, still looking around hopelessly. They looked somewhat concerned at my mood. “Are you alright?” asked Carl, with arched brows. “Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it right now, alright?” They nodded. “Do you still want to ski a few more runs?” “Yeah, sure.” I followed them as we got on line for the lift. They didn’t say a word the whole way up, and for the first time I could ever remember, my heart wasn’t into the skiing.
A few days later I was still haunted by her smile. Band practice was going miserably, as I kept drifting away from the music and screwing up. Finally Carl yelled out and threw down his sticks in frustration. Peter put his guitar down and went to lay on the couch. “Dude,” he said, “you need to snap out of your trance. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I took off my guitar and sat on my amp limply, looking out at the heavy snowstorm in progress. “Nothing.” “Don’t say that. Ever since you wigged out on the ski lift the other day, you’ve been acting all weird and shit.” I thought for a moment of what to say. They wouldn’t understand. Or maybe they would. At least Brian wasn’t there, or he would really get on me. If he couldn’t see why I was still thinking of Julie, what would he think of me dwelling on a girl who’s name I didn’t even know? I decided to tell them the truth. “Well, when I was in Montauk, I met this girl,” I said slowly. “We fished together a lot, and on the lift the other day, I’m pretty sure I saw her skiing.” There was a moment of silence. Peter and Bruno exchanged smirks. Then Carl laughed out loud. Instantly I felt some remorse at having told them. “Okay,” said Carl, “you really think Julie would come up to ski without telling you? I think you’re going a little loony with this shit, man.” “It wasn’t Julie,” I said quietly. “So who then, you never mentioned hooking up with anyone else in Montauk,” said Bruno. “I didn’t hook up with this girl,” I said. Another moment of silence. I winced at what was coming. “So, let me get this straight,” said Carl, “you met some girl and fished with her a couple of times, while you’re with Julie, and six months later you see her on the slopes for a second, maybe, and now you’re all fucked up?” His tone turned ugly. “You’re playing here like you just learned the fucking guitar yesterday. This sucks, how are we supposed to get anything done?” I knew I should have made some other story up. I threw my hands up and went to get a soda from the kitchen. “It’s hard to explain,” I said from the fridge, popping open the can. “I think Brian’s right, you’re going soft on us,” said Carl quietly, but audibly. Carl started playing his drums. Brian said that? I felt the simmering anger and resentment boil over inside of me. “Carl, shut up,” I heard Peter say. Carl stopped playing. I came back out, and stood in the door frame, taking a deep breath. No one looked at me. “Fine, I guess I’m going all ‘soft’ on you. I’m done here.” I slammed my soda down on the table and walked out into the soft howling snow.
That night, I lay in bed a long while after dinner. I felt completely embarrassed. Somehow Brian and Carl, and probably the others, thought I was some kind of wuss. I didn’t know what would happen when I saw them on the bus the next morning. I really wished I could be sick. I considered faking an illness, but doubted that would fly. My parents stopped falling for that a while ago. Were Carl and Brian right? Was I being overly attached to Julie? Did I blow the ski slope incident way out of proportion? Why was I so fixated on this? It may not even have been her, though I was pretty sure. Self-doubt was seeping through every crack it could find, and my mind was being stirred up into an ugly blend of shame, confusion and self-deprecation. Lately I was having trouble keeping my dark thoughts from spiraling out of control. A knock on my door startled me. I bolted up, looking around in the dark, disoriented. I must have fallen asleep, since my clock said ten. I realized I was exhausted from several nights of bad sleep. A strong wind was prickling hard snowflakes against the window panes. “Who is it?” “It’s me,” Lara said. “Come in,” I said, laying down again. A crack of light widened and then closed up, as Lara’s silhouette passed through it. I felt her sit on the edge of my bed. “What’s wrong? I thought you were doing homework, I need help on a math problem.” “Just laying here.” “What’s up?” I lay quiet for a while, wondering what to say. I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to her, but the memory of the last time I blew her off came charging into my thoughts. Maybe Lara would understand. “Have you ever met someone who makes you feel amazing when you are around them?” I winced, as it sounded like an incredibly ‘soft’ thing to say. Lara thought silently. “I don’t know. I never thought about it. What do you mean?” “Do you think… Do you think I’m weird for sticking with Julie, even after I haven’t heard from her for… over two months? More, if you consider her last real letter.” “No,” said Lara. “I think it’s cool that you are sticking to your promise to her,” she said. Her tone was soft and open, and I felt a little less self-conscious. “Why hasn’t she written me, then?” “I don’t know, Matt. She can be, well, flighty.” “Flighty?” “Yeah, she’s not always the most steady person.” “She seemed pretty normal this summer,” I said, wondering what Lara meant. “I don’t mean like mental unsteady, but that she moves around a lot in what she likes.” “How so?” “I don’t know, it’s always been somewhat of a challenge to be her friend, because she changes her mind a lot.” “S-so you’re saying she’s changed her mind about me?” I asked tentatively. Lara sighed. “I don’t know. But that’s the way she can be. She’s very sweet, but sometimes she gets fixated on something and loses sight of everything else.” I felt somewhat disheartened at hearing this. I didn’t really see this side of her when I was with her. “I guess I thought we had a connection,” I said sadly. “I think you did,” she said earnestly. “Or do, sorry.” Her tone wasn’t very convincing though. “I mean, I thought the first person you have sex with is special to you. We shared that together.” I felt Lara tense up slightly. “What?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that James is not special, or anything.” I wasn’t even sure if what just I said was relevant, or even made sense, but I didn’t want to offend Lara. But she ignored my remark anyway. “Did Julie tell you that you were her first?” she asked cautiously. I felt a knot form in my stomach as I digested her words. “What? I… I don’t know, I think so. I just assumed, I guess.” Fear started gripping my chest. “Are you saying… she’s been with someone else?” Lara was silent. I already knew the answer. I was pretty sure who it was, too. The gears of memory cranked through all those times there seemed to be some hint of an underlying dark current with Julie, and suddenly some of the events with Becky became amazingly clear. And the sex made more sense now. “John,” I said quietly. Lara put her hand on mine, and nudged me. I slid over towards the wall, and Lara laid down next to me. “I’m sorry Matt, I thought you knew.” Lara’s voice had turned throaty and pensive. “No, she said she had fooled around with him. It came up when the thing with Becky happened.” “I figured, but I thought she had told you everything then.” The wind outside was getting worse. I felt the room slowly turning, and the knot in my middle spread up through my chest. How could she not have told me? “Did Julie tell you anything…else?” asked Lara. I thought I heard a catch in her voice. “About?” “I don’t know, anything.” “No, she just mentioned John. Is there something else I should know about?” More silence. Lara was clearly debating something in her head. I could almost hear her demons myself. I was feeling really anxious and nervous already, but nothing could have prepared me for what Lara said next. “Julie and I also have been together.” The bed felt like a bad carnival ride that was spinning out of control. I wasn’t even sure I had heard her right. I stiffened, trying to keep from feeling ill. ‘Be careful what you wish for!’ a voice cackled in the back of my head. When the world stopped whirling, I heard Lara crying softly. “I’m so sorry, Matt, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” My nerves, which had been tightly wound but intact all week, had been shattered like icicles by a bat. “Go away,” I croaked. “Matt, please,” Lara said. “Just go. Now.” I whispered. Lara lay frozen for a moment, and then slowly got up off my bed and walked out of the room. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get up out of bed again. Crazy thoughts of John and Julie, and of Lara and Julie flowed through my head like the stream water through holes in the ice. What had they done? Why hadn’t Julie told me? And Lara? I thought she would have surely told me, after everything I had told her. I felt completely left out, betrayed, like I was the object of some ridiculous joke. John and Julie I could sort of deal with, I thought, since I didn’t even know John. But Lara and Julie? I mean, were they together while she was with me? And what were they even doing? Everything special I thought I had shared with Julie was suddenly worthless, in shambles. My sister had been there before I had, and I didn’t even know it. All this time I had confided in her, and all along, she had kept this from me!? My brain was about to explode. I felt like insanity was peeking in through the thin veil that barely contained my thoughts, threatening to let them loose. It was uncontrollably frightening. I convulsed in the bed for a while, as my thoughts wrestled my very body around. I had always thought it would be interesting to see some part of insanity, but now I was terrified. I couldn’t suppress the deep emotions of jealousy, embarrassment and betrayal that were ripping through me, like a hurricane across a paper flag, forcing me to have a first hand look at what the landscape of the crazy mind was. Light. I needed light. I turned on the lamp by my bed. That grounded me some, at least physically. After crying quietly in desperate anguish for a while, I shuddered and stood up, paced my room and tried to put the visions of Julie having sex with John and Lara out of my head. That’s when I saw it, sticking out from under my book bag which I had thrown carelessly on my desk earlier. I knew what it was, the edge of a funny sized envelope, a size I knew to be from only one person. My hands trembled as I slid the envelope out from under my sack. There were none of the happy, cute drawings that had adorned Julie’s previous envelopes. I had a feeling the worst day of my life was about to get worse. I opened the letter, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Dear Matt, I crumpled the letter up, and cast it across the room as hard as I could. I was sure it would burn a hole through the wall, but it bounced off the wall and floated harmlessly onto my desk. After sitting on the bed for a few long moments, I stood up, almost robotically, and walked out of my room. The hall was dark, and I slipped out the side door and silently into the night. The snow was almost ten inches deep, and still falling very heavily. I felt oddly calm, and not the least bit cold as I walked up into the woods behind our house. My shirt whipped around me in the hard wind as I walked straight to a small mound of snow up behind the guest house. After brushing aside some snow, I pulled out a mostly full bottle of whiskey from our stash. I took a long guzzle of the icy hot liquid. It went down smoother than water. I decided I was going to drink myself to death, or die trying.
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