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Shutter ReleaseChapter 19: Burning Fires free porn video
Admittedly, I was slightly apprehensive as we pulled into our clearing that evening after our day of skiing. Heather, alone with Tommy all day... The snow was falling heavily again through the headlight beams. Both Frej’s and the Martins’ cars were parked in the same positions they had been that morning, and they remained covered in several inches of snow. Oddly, there were no lights on in the main house. Maybe Muireann was rubbing off on me, because for a few seconds I had a panicked vision of all of us searching for Tommy and Heather in the woods. Lost on a hike, perhaps hurt somewhere...
Stop, they’re probably in the cabin... I quickly squashed my fears as we exited the vehicles. The relief-inducing scent of wood smoke filled the air. As we climbed onto the deck, I noticed that there was an orange glow coming from the front windows after all. I heard Tommy’s muted cheer and upon opening the door, a savory aroma filled my nose.
“Welcome home!” Heather called as we piled inside.
She rose from the couch, where she’d been sitting with Tommy in the near darkness. The lights went on, forcing him to don his shades, and there was the commotion of greetings being passed around. I almost felt a bit bad, intruding on their quiet chat by the fire. I glanced at Muireann, finding a relieved smile on her face as she gave her brother and then Heather happy hugs.
“Did you make dinner?” Melissa asked as she entered, clearly pleased.
“Well, we tried!” Heather chirped. “Nothing fancy, just some pasta with sauce. I just need to cook the noodles and then we can eat. We figured you’d be hungry.”
Aongus and Frej in particular made very agreeable noises at this news.
I joined Heather in the kitchen as she turned up the heat under the pot of water that was awaiting her command.
“You look happy,” I remarked quietly.
“Sure!” she chimed happily.
I eyed her. “Did you finish whatever you were working on?”
She just gave me a mysterious shrug and a quick kiss.
“Heather, what are these?” Melissa called out.
“Don’t ask me,” Heather replied evenly, giving the pasta sauce a stir.
I turned to look at my mom. She was over at the dining table, looking at... Photographs? Muireann, Lara, and Sarah joined her now, studying whatever was there with interest.
“Did you take these, Tommy?” Sarah asked.
“I did, Mam!” he called out from the couch, the pride evident in his voice.
I glanced at Heather, giving her a smile that was equal parts apology and pride. “You’re so sweet,” I whispered.
Heather just shrugged again.
“I kind of wondered,” I added.
“What?”
“If you’d take him out on a shoot. It was either that, the flute, or a new treasure hunt.”
“Well, then you were right,” she said, even as her eyes danced.
Over at the table, everyone was pressing around now, their murmuring growing louder.
“Tommy, what exactly is this?”
His grin even larger, he stood and wandered over toward them. Just then, Muireann turned to us, her hand flying to her mouth. She stared at Heather, her eyes unsteady and wide.
“Those photos,” Tommy announced, even as Muireann started heading for us, “as best as Heather and I could figure, are how I see the world. Although, funny enough, neither of us really knows for sure if that’s true!”
Muireann now had Heather gripped in a desperate hug, eliciting a surprised squeak from my girl. I could see a tear rolling down Muireann’s cheek.
“These are ... stunning,” Sarah said quietly to Melissa and Mairead. “Look right into the middle of this one. Hold it closer, yeah...”
“Whoa ... Incredible,” Melissa agreed after a moment.
More than a little intrigued now, I left the two hugging and whispering girls and looked for myself. There were four photos, studies in blurry confusion and unfocused distortion. And yet they were recognizable scenes of our place. I picked one print up and took a closer look. Heather was in the frame, from the waist up, making an odd gesture with her hands. Her entire face was lost to a fuzzy wilderness of dark and light in the center, while the edges were misshapen and twisted, yet also soft and mysterious. The photo was riveting and compelling, and on the edge of being outright beautiful.
“Holy cow,” I breathed, unwilling to use a stronger word given the density of adults around me, even if it would have been perfectly justified. The other pictures were similarly fascinating, messy views of our familiar world. As I studied them, I was struck by a thought.
This is how he sees ... All the time.
Then I made the mistake of staring right at the center of one photograph, as my mom had suggested. Abruptly the image seemed to pull me in, and I had an eerie moment of strange disorientation and even despair as I found myself inside of Tommy’s head. A slight panic set in, just for an instant, and I had to look away. I tried again with a different photograph, and the same uncanny effect made me shiver.
I snapped out of it and turned to Tommy, who was clearly pleased at the response. “These are seriously awesome, Tommy,” I said. “You have to bring them in for Jane to see!”
“Aye, too bad I couldn’t put them up for the show!” he joked.
“Yeah, well, they should’ve been.”
“But most of the credit goes to Heather,” he added.
I glanced over at the stove, where she was still engaged with Muireann.
“I think it really took both of you to take these,” I said. “Or I should say, make these.”
“Perhaps, lad. But I stand by my statement all the same.”
Since it was Mairead’s and Aongus’s last night with us, the instruments were pulled out for a final session once dinner was finished.
“So are you going to join them tonight?” I asked Heather, as together we worked on cleaning dishes from the meal.
“Nope. I’m happier to cuddle up with you on the couch and listen.”
“Aw, okay. But I did want to hear you play!”
“Matt, I suck,” Heather said, eyeing me. Then she leaned in and whispered, “So do my parents, to be honest.”
“Hey now, don’t be so hard on them! Or yourself.”
“I’m not. I grew up listening to this stuff on and off, and Tommy and Muireann are the real deal.”
“I figured that much out already, but—”
“My mom hangs in there, but notice how she gets left in the dust once the energy picks up.”
“Yeah, sure, but it’s not about that, right? They’re all having a good time playing.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “But like I said, I’d much rather sit with you than play bad flute. I wouldn’t add anything to the tunes. And I’d definitely have a good time on the couch with you. Hmm ... Then again, there is one flute I wouldn’t mind—”
“Heather!” I hissed, looking around. “Not the time for those jokes!”
Luckily everyone was already migrating to the couches, but still, voices could carry easily in the great room.
“Well, if you don’t want me to,” she dismissed airily.
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t say that.”
Heather giggled. “So I guess going to your room right now would be too obvious?”
“Stop it.”
“See? You don’t want to.”
I groaned and flicked some water at her with my fingers. She stopped her rinsing and gave me a rather surprised look.
“You’re really starting a water fight with me right now?” she asked, her hand poised to respond to my assault.
“Um, no. My mom probably wouldn’t appreciate that.”
“Thought so.” She came closer after setting the last plate in the dish drain. “I’ll tell you what: you find a way to get us alone, and I’ll take care of you. We’re nowhere near a million years yet.”
Oh god...
After drying her hands, she grabbed me and pulled me over to the couches to squeeze in to our usual spot. My moms were nestled against each other on the other couch, Frej sitting next to them as usual. As we settled in to listen to the tunes, I leaned my head close to hers.
“You’re amazing, you know?”
Heather giggled quietly. “You think way too much of me, Matt.”
“How did you do those pictures?” I pressed.
“They’re Tommy’s. He took them, I swear!”
“Sure ... Except there’s no camera on earth that will make that kind of picture on its own.”
“Okay, fine, that’s true. But you really don’t remember? I’m surprised.”
“Remember what?”
“I told you I was building an MD filter. It’s not like it was a secret!” she said, grinning at me.
Recognition seeped in. “Wait, that’s what you were talking about?”
“Of course!”
“But that was weeks ago!”
Heather shrugged. “And your point is?”
I stared at her for a long moment. “So this filter ... What is it exactly?”
She pursed her lips. “Hmm ... Kind of hard to explain.”
“Does it go on the camera?”
“One part does, yeah.”
“One part? Okay, come on, now you need to show me this thing!”
“It’s in the darkroom.”
“Well, let’s go then!” I urged quietly.
She eyed me and then leaned close to my ear. “Wait a second ... Is this your trick to get me alone?”
“No! I really want to see it!”
“Yeah right. You just—”
“It’s true! No ulterior motive!”
Heather giggled, a sound that so close to my ear, was pure honey. “Prove it,” she whispered.
I turned without hesitation to my moms. “Heather’s going to show me the thing she built to get Tommy’s pictures to look that way. It’s in the darkroom. Do you want to come check it out?”
My moms smiled. “Oh, I think we’re cozy enough right now. But another time?”
“Okay, sure...”
I turned back to Heather expectantly. She had that little smile on her lips as she rose wordlessly. In another moment we were on our way to the cabin. We’d forgone the coats, so we hurried through the night.
“You didn’t really have to prove it,” she said, laughing as she ran. “I still would’ve come up here with you!”
“Well, here we are, one way or another!”
I pushed inside into the warmth and headed for the darkroom.
“Um, hold on,” she warned. “It’s a bit ... crazy, in there. I didn’t get the chance to clean up yet.”
Undeterred, I opened the door and reached for the dimmer.
“I’m sure it’s fine. It’s not like you were—Whoa...”
For once, Heather wasn’t kidding. The hanging wire, work table and bedspread were entirely filled with variations of Tommy’s pictures. There was even a small stack on the floor. Various types of camera gear were lying wherever they could.
“Don’t worry, I brought my own paper,” Heather reassured me, her voice oddly subdued.
Clearly ... I’ve never even owned that much paper... But by that point, I wasn’t worried about the excess materials or expense. I was distracted by two contraptions that I’d suddenly noticed. One was set up on the enlarger platform and the other sat to the side of Heather’s Canon. Each one looked like something come to life out of a Dr. Seuss story. The bigger structure on the enlarger was essentially a rectangular frame that had all manner of attachments and what looked like stacked trays inside it. Tiny alligator clips held shards of glass here and there, some of them colored, others having patterns painted on them.
“Jeez, Heather, did you really make these?”
“No, there was a three-pack on sale at Murph’s this morning!”
I snorted and rolled my eyes, despite my state of awe. The smaller item was no less interesting. It looked like Heather had taken a screw filter and built onto it, creating a strange apparatus that could be attached onto the front of a camera lens. Like a regular filter, sure, but also like something from another planet.
“Damn, these are crazy! What are all these plastic parts that you glued together? They’re funny shapes.”
“From model car kits.”
“Oh, yeah, I see it now ... I don’t think you followed the instructions very well though,” I joked.
She giggled. “Yeah, you could say that. Shannon might be a bit upset.”
“Why?”
“I used a bunch of ‘69 Camaro kits!”
I laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be pissed! Though I seem to remember her saying hers is a ‘68, so maybe you’re off the hook. You know, she needs to see this ... Like, really needs to see this. She’s going to flip out. But I don’t understand how you knew what to build. Is that really how Tommy sees things?”
Heather started stacking the photos on the bed to clean up a bit. “Maybe. Like he said, how can we ever know, though? I can’t see what he sees, and he can’t see the photos clearly enough to know if they’re right or not. So, we just had to trust each other.”
Whoa ... We’ll never be able to know... For a moment, it was a staggering thought, an unsolvable challenge.
“That’s ... crazy, but yeah, you’re right, you can’t know. So, have you been secretly talking to him? I don’t get how you did all this in just a few hours. Tommy seemed like he had no idea what was going on this morning. Was he in on the secret too?”
“Nope, not until today. I did sneak in a lot of questions about his vision during this week, mostly on the ski lift,” she admitted. “That was enough to get most of the way there on my own. Then we worked on the details together today. I don’t have to tell you that he was really into this.”
I laughed. “He definitely looked pretty pleased.”
“I’m glad he agreed to do it.”
“Yeah...” A knowing grin spread across my face. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake up Lara and Muireann, getting up early and sneaking up here every morning this week.”
“I can move quietly enough.”
I chuckled. “And didn’t you get lucky that Frej wasn’t sleeping in the darkroom after all!”
But even as I said this I noticed the impish flash in her eyes.
“I know, right?” she sang. “Amazing luck!”
I groaned and closed my eyes as another puzzle piece washed ashore, and it was so very obvious where it fit into place. “Oh, give me a break! You mean having the twins move in to our rooms and Frej down to the house wasn’t Lara’s idea?”
She smiled sweetly at me. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“You ... are...”
I had no further words, though.
“So there you go,” she breathed, as she set a stack of prints on the table. “The MD filter.” She glanced at the pile with a hint of regret, and then dumped the lot in the trash bin instead. “Those didn’t quite turn out.”
I huffed, feeling overwhelmed. “So does Lara know all about this?”
“No, not at all.”
“But you obviously told her you needed the darkroom!”
“I have no idea what you mean!” she repeated.
I grunted in resignation. “All right, fine ... See, you don’t tell me stuff.”
Heather abruptly turned away and straightened the developing trays. I was surprised she didn’t respond to my teasing comment.
“It was so nice of you to do this for him, Heather. And also completely amazing, as far as building it goes. I’m still trying to figure out how you made this work.”
She glanced back at me as she continued to tidy up. I would’ve said she looked sheepish if I’d known what that expression could look like on her face.
“What?” I asked, stepping over to examine the apparatuses again. They were fascinating.
She slowed and looked down at the floor. “Well, there’s more to this story, Matt. And I’m so, so sorry.”
I glanced at her. There was something else in her expression that gave me pause. “Sorry? Why?”
She came close to me, steadying herself with a deep breath. “I’ll say up front that since this was going to be a surprise for everyone, I didn’t tell you. But I feel really bad about that now.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m used to being in the dark. I didn’t mean that in a bad way, about you not telling me stuff.”
“I know, but...” She was distant for a long moment. “This one got away from me.”
I frowned, confused. “You’re serious ... All right, let’s hear the rest of the story then.”
“Well ... You kind of gave me the idea when you joked about Tommy not being your new photography pal.”
I winced as I glanced at the stack of prints that still peeked out from the trash can. “Yeah, I really feel like a jerk about that now,” I murmured.
“No, I knew what you meant, don’t feel bad. We were joking around. But it did get me thinking about how he could do something, at least. At first I was like, I’ll go out and shoot some pictures with him when I come up here and make something of it. But obviously that seemed kind of random, and even wrong somehow. Then I realized that his photos should maybe look like what he sees.”
“So you decided to make a system that does that,” I said, feeling a warm tingle in my spine.
“Basically. But then I needed to know what he could see!”
“So you did talk to him back then?” I asked, bewildered by her statements.
“No. I didn’t think that would work, me not meeting him yet, and not being able to work with him in person. I figured he’d be like, who the hell does this girl think she is, intruding on me like this?”
“Nah, he probably would’ve been fine.”
“Well, yeah, I see that now, but a month ago, I didn’t feel right doing that. They’d just gotten here, you know, and I didn’t know what he was like ... So instead, back then, I drove out to a vision center and convinced them to let me talk to some people who have macular degeneration.”
“Oh, is that what the MD means?” I asked.
“Yeah. So they let me do that, and I realized that with some messing around, I could actually make this happen. I started building lens filters, testing out how the different types of glass and obstructions on the camera would affect the pictures. Eventually I knew I had to make a printing filter too, because it’s too much to ask for a lens mount filter to do all this.”
“You think?” I said, laughing. “But wait, you’re saying you’ve made a bunch of these?”
“Yeah. Some better than others. You should see the shelves in my room. I have all these little contraptions lined up there, sleeping like dead bugs.”
“Are you serious? When the hell did you have time for this?”
Heather shrugged evasively. “I found the time.”
“But how ... and where, actually? At school? You needed a darkroom to test the printing filter!”
Again that apologetic look...
“Not really. I talked to my photography teacher and she had a friend who had an old enlarger I could borrow, to play around on. It’s pretty primitive, but it was good enough for what I was doing.”
I gaped at her, each revelation shoving aside the previous one with increasing force. “So you have a darkroom at your house now too?”
“No, no room for that. I just used the enlarger to project the light onto a sheet of paper while I worked on the parts, figured out angles, distances, shapes, things like that.”
“But if you didn’t make prints, how did you know what you’d get?”
But that was a dumb question, I immediately realized. This girl probably has a complete darkroom setup in her mind. I figured that even the enlarger probably wasn’t necessary, but rather a convenience. Clearly, the depth of my surprise and incredulity was yet to be found tonight.
“When I wanted to check how it would print, then yeah, I would take it in to the school darkroom,” she explained. “But mostly I worked on it at home, just looking at the light on the page.”
“All right ... But damn, this is so fucking cool! So let’s see, you first take the picture with this—”
“Ooh, don’t touch,” Heather warned. “Sharp glass!”
I glanced at the finger she held up, remembering the Band-Aid from earlier in the visit. “Okay, fine, but you need to take me through this!”
She nodded and picked up her camera. “Here, hold this.”
I did as she asked, and she gingerly picked up the lens-mounted filter and carefully screwed it on to the lens’s filter thread. “There ... Have a look.”
I pointed the camera at her and studied the image in the viewfinder. It was blurry and distorted, but relatively complete. It was too dark to take a picture, and besides it would be pointless, if there was even any film in there. I could imagine what would be on the negative for this stage. This filter just set up the basic parameters of the focus and peripheral distortions that she’d worked out. The majority of the action clearly happened during the printing.
“So I had Tommy set up the shot he wanted, using a tripod. Without the filter, of course. Then once he had it, we screwed the filter on and took the picture.”
“Yeah, makes sense. You wouldn’t want him to look through the filter. But okay, let’s print one then. I really want to see how this thing works!”
“You sure this isn’t just a trick to get me to close the darkroom door and kill the lights?” she joked again.
“No! This is seriously one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen,” I gushed, again studying the enlarger filter with its layers of elements that apparently seemed to slide in and out like trays.
Heather turned off the lights and switched on the red safety lamp. “Man, and here I am, hoping it is one of your tricks! A kiss a least?”
“Later!” I dismissed. “Come on, let’s print one!”
She went through the process of exposing the photo paper. Between and during bouts of light from the enlarger’s timer, she exchanged trays in and out of the apparatus, altering and smearing the way the illumination went onto the eight-by-ten area of the halide paper. It was deeply fascinating, but also—
They say, ‘You can do anything if you put your mind to it.‘
Inspiring words...
But whoever said them was a damned thimblerigger, because as I stared at this piece of work that sat on my enlarger, I knew that the statement was completely false. Not in a hundred years would I have been able to build a system to generate a photograph that would reproduce what Tommy described as his view of the world. Never at all, really. It was utterly dumbfounding, and I simply didn’t have the mind to put to it.
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