Page 35 of A Light in the Dark
My neighbor snickered. “Valerie, you snarfed that burger down like you feared it might jump off your plate and require you to hunt it down. I thought you’d start growling for a second there. If a burger is enjoyed, I thought offering a steak might be a safe bet.”
“You are not wrong. When I eat chicken, I try to spice it into oblivion because chicken is just not the one true meat. Beef is the one true meat. My boss’s neighbor paid me in good steaks to help fix her steps, Joel. If building steps paid in steaks, I’d consider giving up my day job.”
He laughed at me. “When we enjoy our steaks today, I will tell you a story of one of the extremes I went to for a good roast. It remains a pride and a shame to this very day.”
While curious, I accepted the wait with good cheer. “Then I suppose we best get this show on the road, else I may perish from the mystery of what scandalous thing you did for a good roast. I just have one question. Was it a prime rib?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. It was.”
“Then chances are, the shame was worth it. If given the opportunity, I might do some seriously shady shit for a good prime rib.”
“It’s good to know we’re on the same page regarding the importance of prime rib.”
The sole employeein the camera shop greeted Joel by name, reached under the counter, and pulled out a bag,which he held up in triumph. “Your new baby arrived early. I was about to give you a call.”
Much like he had in the garden shop, Joel bounced to the counter, hauling his backpack with him, snagged the prize, and dug inside, pulling out a massive box depicting a camera lens. “Oh, you sweet darling. Daddy is going to take good care of you.”
All right. I could only assume Joel didn’t just like taking pictures, but that he had a photography hobby to go along with his gardening. I approached, peering at the lens box with interest. I had no idea what the numbers meant, but I’d seen the brand before, something popular with professionals documenting the lives of wildlife around the world.
Joel took off his pack, set it on the counter, and opened it, revealing camera equipment and an empty slot large enough for the huge lens. He took out a camera, removed a cap from it, and installed the lens.
It reminded me of a rather large gun with a ridiculous barrel, ready to shoot plants, animals, and people alike.
Unlike with a gun, there’d be no victims when he shot them, only photographs.
The store’s employee, Chuck according to his name tag, settled into the important business of discussing the lens and its myriad of features to an attentive Joel. As the men had forgotten about me, not that I blamed them, I wandered the store, peering into cabinets to behold the plethora of cameras available for the brave, the bold, and the wealthy.
According to the price tags, if I wanted a camera that looked even remotely like Joel’s, I’d have to dish out several thousand dollars.
Fortunately for my sanity, I found the section dedicatedto the modest point and shoots, which came in at a couple hundred and fell more into my comfort zone.
Then I made the mistake of peering into a cabinet with colorful camera bodies and lenses.
There was one the same brilliant green of a luna moth’s wings, and it had a set of five matching lenses. I had no idea what the numbers meant, but the color thrilled me, and I resisted the urge to put my nose against the glass for a closer look.
There was even a matching backpack for it, and given a needle, some thread, and a few hours, I could decorate it with luna moths. It’d been a while since I’d done any embroidery, but the set would give me a good excuse to take Madeline to a craft store.
I could even get creative with my stitched moths, designing them in several different colors.
I engaged the camera in a staring contest, debating if I wanted to make use of the credit card I owned and put purchases on several times a month to make sure it stayed active.
The card could handle the purchase, and depending on how my garden store acquisitions went, I wouldn’t carry a balance for long.
At over a thousand dollars, I wouldn’t be allowing Joel to run off with the receipt. I could have dealt with one of the hundred dollar point and shoots, but not the pretty green one with accessories.
I dug out my phone, took a picture of the camera, and texted it to Roger, asking if he knew anything about such devices, if I was crazy for wanting it, and if it might be worth acquiring. A moment later, my phone rang.
Joel and Chuck paid me no mind, and laughing over how the huge lens had charmed them both, I answered, “Hey.”
“That’s actually a really good little camera for its price. It’s in the top of our tech brackets, and it packs a hell of a punch.”
“But why is it so cheap? There are cameras without any lenses that cost three times as much.” I stared at the backpack, which appeared to be a canvas version of Joel’s. “Joel’s backpack is made of leather, and this one is canvas, but they look really similar.”
“Take a picture of his backpack and send it to me.”
After some juggling with the phone, I went to Joel’s backpack, tapped him on the shoulder, and asked, “Can I take a picture of your bag?” To make it clear I was playing around with my inferior phone-based tech, I waved it at him.
With practiced efficiency, he checked his gear, closed the bag, and stood it up so I could take a photo of it.
