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If a camera captures a photo in the middle of the night, and no one is around to see it, did it really make a flash?
For a lone man by the Ohio River, perhaps. Jack looks at the captured image on his preview screen and frowns, eternally unsatisfied. The moon looks on from a distance, offering no opinion, only a eery glow on the city’s architecture. Raising the viewfinder to his eye, he begins his search again.
He scans the area, looking for something to capture. A bit of light reflecting off the water, an abandoned bottle of beer leaking into the grass, a moment in time worth keeping. Alas, not today. Jack huffs in frustration. There will always be nights like this, banality paving the way to an uneventful day. He finds himself feeling even more restless than when he left his cramped Cincinnati apartment two hours prior. Craving the perfect image, aching for it to jump out and surprise him. His camera automatically shuts off from lack of use, the noise is a scoff of disappointment. Jack has let his instrument down, let his city down.
It’s always so easy, there is always something beautiful, posing, waiting for Jack to come and give it the attention it deserves. That’s why he adventures out at three am, there are no people with things to do and places to be and deadlines to meet racing through the streets and the sidewalks, ready to judge a man with his camera trying to slow it all down. The silence, the darkness, envelopes him and guides his hand to the treasure hidden inside the city. Treasure that can only be found when one truly looks. Jack is looking. Where is it all hiding tonight?
The camera hangs limply on his neck as he sits on the nearest park bench. The illuminated jungle of concrete and wonder stares into Jack. He can only glance back. Overwhelmed, and underwhelmed, he shuts his eyes and takes a breath. Winter approaches and with it, a wind chill. The sky breathes through his bones and the air in his lungs, condensing his breath in front of him. His muscles stiffen at the breeze and urge him up. The wind whispers in his ears, “you, boy, you’re not done yet.” Jack lifts his tired body up and away from the river, back to his apartment, praying that he finds something along the way to keep him from it.
Jack looks down at his feet as he walks, examining the way his feet move through the universe. With little premonition or determination, fleeting steps with little purpose. As he approaches an intersection, he returns his gaze to the world above. It is then, for the first time that night, something grabs his attention.
A man, about Jacks height, stands alone under a streetlamp. He drags his thumb across the bright screen of the phone in his hand as he waits for the walk sign to change. His gray hoodie hides a flash of pink hair and the earbuds which connect him to the device in his palm. The streets, the wind, the moonlight above all seem to have guided Jack here to this intersection, to this man to this moment in time. He flicks his camera to life and the adrenaline seeps through Jack’s fingertips into the body of the machine as it readies itself for the perfect shot. But just as Jack begins to raise the camera to eye level, the lights of the intersection change, and the man’s eyes catch light as he looks up to cross the street. In panic, Jack swerves and retreats to the darkness to his left, ducking into an alleyway between two buildings.
He should just go home, right? He had the perfect shot right in front of him, and he didn’t take it. Give up, get over it. But it was almost like a force beyond his control was pulling him in the opposite direction, like that man was a magnet, and his bones were suddenly iron. He silently jogged out of the alley in search of the man in the hoodie. He found him as the man passed the next intersection. What was he doing out in the chill of the October night? Where was he headed? He pushed those questions aside as the viewfinder tunneled his focus onto nothing but the image of the man. Adjusting his zoom and focus, he snaps a few shots before venturing closer. Quietly closing the distance a bit, he chases his prey like an animals, and shoots him with the only weapon he’s ever known. He takes a little bit of the man for himself, but finds that with each picture, he wants more and more. He follows the man for almost 10 minutes. Jack and his camera are stealthy in nature, the only evidence of their presence an almost inaudible click of the shutter. The man in the hoodie takes them on a journey through downtown Cincinnati, and they consume every bit of it.
All good things come to an end, Jack remembers as the man turns around to face him, pulling his earbuds out, and that end is usually horrible. He stands guilty with the weapon in his palm as the man stares him in the eyes, anger and a hint of fear radiating off of him.
“Why are you following me?” The man seethes. “Are you some kind of pervert?”
It is then Jack feels dirty. He stalked this stranger through the city, stole pieces of his life for his own personal keeping, and never planned on letting him in on the joke. The man stands unflinching, waiting for Jack’s answer. If he had one, it would probably stuck in his throat between his vocal chords.
“I just,” he starts a thought, though he never planned on finishing it, “I was just- ”
“Were you taking pictures of me?”
He hides the camera behind his arms as if he were protecting a crying child.
“Give it to me, I’m going to delete them.” The man holds his palm out expectantly.
“No!” He shouts, though he has no defense for it. He holds his camera as far away from the man as possible.
“Well then, answer me!”
“I thought you were interesting!” The words leave his mouth before they can process through his brain. “I’m sorry, I’m not a creep or a perv or anything. I was just walking home from taking pictures at the river and I saw you standing alone under the streetlight and, the way the light traveled across your face, the way the colors glowed from underneath your skin, you captured my attention. You inspired me.”
The man took a step back in response, startled by Jack’s reply. He looked at him through chocolate eyes for a moment, processing it. Then, he dragged his gaze across Jack, analyzing the scared man. He offered no signs of malicious intentions, he seemed to be some ordinary kid.
“What are you doing taking pictures in the middle of the night anyway? There’s a lot more going on in the day.”
Jack sighed in relief, “It’s just, in the daytime, I’m another anonymous face in a crowd of people. But, at night, I’m powerful. I’m an omniscient eye looking over everything without everyone else judging me for it.” He shrugged, gesturing to the city around him. “Besides, I could ask you almost the same thing.”
The man raised his eyebrows at the remark. He was the victim here, right? Only he should get to ask the questions. Still, the photographer opposite him seemed harmless. He looked around his age, and had bright green hair. Surely, he wasn't planning on taking him to his apartment and chopping his limbs off with an axe. He decides to grant him an answer.
“I was taking a walk.”
Jack’s eyes narrow. “No one takes walks in the middle of the night.”
“No one takes pictures in the middle of the night either. Besides, if you knew my job and my life, you’d need a walk to clear your head sometimes, too.”
“What’s your job, then?” Jack knows it’s not his place to press, and after being caught he has no right to, but, the magnet is still pulling. He wants to know more about him. He wants to explore that head more than ever.
The man doesn’t mean to, but he vents. “I’m a biomedical engineer. It’s hours of work, with little reward. I have a boss thats always up my ass, and my project is falling apart under me. I don’t get paid nearly enough for the amount of effort I put in. I have no other opportunities, no solutions, and no peace. It should be worth it, I went into this field to help people and save lives, but I’ve ended up doing jack shit. All I’ve gotten was disappointment and sleepless nights.” By the end of the speech, the man was practically yelling. “Sorry. You probably don’t care about my problems. You can keep the pictures, if you want, I don’t really care.” The man turned his back to Jack and steadfastly took off in the opposite direction.
He wanted to chase after him, to soothe him, to put a band-aid on his mind and make it all better. But, his feet were glued to the floor. He couldn’t let the man go now. Not after he poured a piece of his soul out for Jack. He couldn’t return to his tiny apartment, plug his camera into his computer and look at the images of the man knowing what he knows now.
“Wait!” The man stops in his tracks and turns around. “If you’re just wandering around, you might as well go to the River. It’s quite beautiful at night. I could go along, keep you company, scare away all the creepy perverts following you.”
The man chuckles at this, and that sets Jack’s heart alight. All the lights in the city fall a bit dimmer after that moment, inferior to the man’s smile. The man saunters back, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“Hey, do me a favor. Look over there.” The man points to spot behind him, and Jack turns with confusion. When he looks, he is faced with nothing out of the ordinary. Then, out of the corner of his eye he sees a light flash. Quickly turning back, he sees the man taking a picture of him with his iPhone. Obviously satisfied, he reviews the image as a deep laugh echoes from his lungs. With it, Jack fall a bit further under the stranger’s spell. “We’re even. Now, I have a creepy picture of you, too.”
Jack puts his hands up, “It’s only fair,” and joins the man in laughter.
The man pockets his phone and looks up at Jack nervously. “You know, we’ve got these pictures of each other, but no names.”
“True.” Jack replies, butterflies forming in his stomach. “Name’s Sean, but most people call me Jack.” He sticks out his hand for the man to shake.
“I’m Mark.” The man gives him a firm handshake, and at the touch, the butterflies begin swarming.
“C’mon, Mark. It’s almost dawn. You’ve gotta see the the sun rise over the Ohio River. I could take a million pictures and will never be able to fully capture its beauty.” Jack directs him in the direction he was originally coming from. The man now known as Mark looks at Jack as they walk side by side. The magnet has finally united the two.
Will I ever be able to capture the light in Mark’s eyes? Jack wonders. Probably not, but I can’t wait to start trying.