Memoirs Of An Unknown Poet:
Memoirs To Little Rock
by Joseph C. Hinson

        I was lying on an uncomfortable bed in a shitty hotel room flipping through the television.  No cable mind you, just a crappy antennae sitting on the small set.  All I could pick up aside from the three networks was some guy with a bad hair piece screaming fire and brimstone.  It didn’t even pick up Fox, although at this point in the early 90s, I’m not sure Fox was a major network.
        I cut the TV off, then got out of bed and looked out the window.  The pool looked inviting.  But I hadn’t thought of bringing a swimming suit plus the house rules stated that the pool closed at dark.  Which was something that I couldn’t really figure out other than a pool full of people at midnight could possibly disturb guests trying to sleep.
        I felt like I should be sweating, wearing a white t-shirt and smoking a cheap cigarette.  Here I was in some crappy hotel in a strange town with a TV that didn’t pick up a thing.  Then I realized I was sweating and wearing a white t-shirt, though not an under shirt.  I took it off.  The air conditioner was barely working.
         Other than the pool, the view from the room was not that great.  Basically all it consisted off was the hotel parking lot, a vacant field and a strip mall that included golden arches on the nearby highway.  For the umpteenth time, I wished I had driven.  Maybe I could talk Stacie into taking a tour of the city.  At least I wouldn’t get us lost.
        The telephone rang.  I smiled, knowing whom it would be.  Disario had said he was going to make a few calls to Memphis, then turn in early.
         “Yes.”
         “Well, hello Mr. Edwards.  How are you this fine evening?”
         “Hot, tired and bothered here in 214.  How’s things in 237?”
         “Well, the air is not working at all.  And some guy with fake hair and a blue suit is telling me I’m on the highway to hell.  I think I’m already there.”
        “I always thought hell must be a lot like South Carolina.  Maybe I was wrong.  But it could be worse for you.  You could have a view of the pool.”
         “Does it look tempting?”
         “Very.”  I had been staring at the blue water for most of the conversation, thinking how nice it would be if Stacie and I were in it together.
         She changed the subject.  “Was this the most boring day you can remember?”
         “It was bad.”  I sat on the edge of the bed where I could keep my sight on the non-view outside my window.  “I think Disario may have dozed off a time or two.”
         “I wish I could have.  I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.  Somehow the mere thought that you were sitting through the same crap as I was comforted me.”
         “Well, thanks.  I think.”
         We both laughed.
         “It could have been worse,” she added.  “It could have been longer.”
         “Or they could have performed root canals on us during break.”
         “Ouch.”  That was right after she had obviously dropped the phone.
         “Tearing up hotel property, are we?”
         “I dropped the phone on my foot when I was unbuttoning my shirt,” she said.  “There.  That’s better.”
         “What’s better?”
         “I think this is the first time I’ve been in a hotel room alone since I can remember.  At least the first time over night.”  She clarified that statement.  “It’s the first time I’ve stayed in a hotel room by myself.  The last time was my fabulous honeymoon at Niagara Falls where he talked business with the man from across the hall most of the time.”  The sarcasm and bitterness was heavy in her tone.  “Before that, man, I would have still been in school.  My grandmother took me to see Billy Graham in Knoxville.  It was the furthest I was away from home until the honeymoon.  You’ve been around though.”  Trying to change the subject again.
         “Yeah, these past few years or so, I’ve been here and there.”
         “Colorado?”
         “I’ve spent a week or two there twice now.  Both in warm weather.  It’s beautiful out there. All things being equal, I think it may be the most beautiful place I’ve been, particularly Canon City.  I spent more time in that part of the state than the northern part”
         “Why didn’t you move there?  Why Memphis of all places?  You’ve already professed you’re out right loathing of Elvis.”
         “Colorado was beautiful.  I liked northern California too.  There weren’t many places I went to that I didn’t like actually.  Can’t say the east above Virginia really enthralled me that much though.  But Memphis felt like home each time I was here.  I’m not really sure why.  And then finally, it was home.  It is home.”
         “Because this is the last place you and that girl…”  She was trying to come up with a name.  She almost sounded jealous.
         “Loretta.”  I knew where this was going.
         “….yeah, Loretta.  This was the last place you and Loretta were a couple?  I mean, didn’t you say she broke up with you on vacation?”
         “Yes, she did.  Timing was apparently never one of her strong suits.  And the answer is no.  That had nothing to do with why I moved here.”
         “Then why did you move to Memphis?” she asked, her voice trailing off for a moment.
         “I thought I told you.  It felt like home here.  Don’t you like Memphis?”
         “I like it all right, I guess.  I think I’ve just been here too long.”
         “I feel like I’ve been here too long, meaning Little Rock.  Or at least this hotel anyway.”
         She dropped the phone again.
         “Stacie, what are you doing?”
         “Undressing.”
         “Really?  What are you wearing?”  I felt my heart beat noticeably quicker.
         “Well, right this second, just panties.  But…”  Her voice trailed off again.  “Now I’m not wearing those either.  Like I said, my air’s not working.  Now I’m lying on my stomach on the bed.”
         “I’d like to see that.”
         She laughed.  “You already have.”
         I thought back to those pictures, wishing I had brought them with me.  The ones from the shower stuck in my mind.
         “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
         “How could I forget?  They turned out great.  The sun in the outdoor shots turned out great,” I added, hoping to maintain some semblance of a photographer’s integrity.  “So has he found those pictures yet?”  I knew the answer.  Obviously she would have told me.
         “Nope.  Not yet.  I can’t get over it.  I put them, not all of them, but most of them, in the drawer with my journal, and he hasn’t touched them.  I’ve been keeping an eye out.”
         “Do you think maybe he did find them and is keeping quiet on it?”
         “No.  Not Gregg.  He couldn’t do that.”  And then she changed the subject.  “So what are you wearing?” she asked.
         I thought about fibbing and saying I was naked.  “Jeans.”
         “And nothing else?”
         “Just jeans.”
         “Nice,” she said.
         There was a long pause next.  I didn’t know what to say.  Mainly, I thought about what she was wearing.
         “So you’ve been in a lot of hotels?” she said.  “How does this one compare?”
         “Actually, I have been in worse.  Coming through Topeka in the dead of night late one Saturday, or early on a Sunday really, there was nothing open.  I had been driving most of the day but I hadn’t gotten anywhere because I kept getting sidetracked by trains.  I was hoping to make it to Kansas City, but here it was at 3 in the morning and all I wanted to do was sleep.
         “I finally got a room in a run-down but expensive hotel, one of those places that probably stays in business only because the town it’s in doesn’t have enough hotels.  I think the Royals were in K.C that weekend too.”
         “How bad was it?”
         “Well, the air was not only broken, but it blew out nothing but hot air.  The hot water faucet in the sink was broken and the cold water handle in the shower was broken.  And the room had mirrors all on the walls.  We won’t even talk about the noise coming from next door either.”
         She laughed.  “Did you have to pay by the hour or the night?”
         “By the night, actually, but I think it’s a pretty good guess what kind of clientele this place went for.  I think I got two and a half hours of sleep that night and not in a row I might add.  Then I headed out early and got real lucky with some trains at Argentine Yard in Kansas City.  So I guess it was worth it.”
         “How does being in a hotel make you feel?” she asked.
         “I guess it depends.  I liked being on the road this past year.  It made me feel free.  I had no immediate worries.  I had time to think, time to think about my writing and to plan where I was going to go next for my railroad photography.”
         “No, that’s not what I asked.  I asked how being in a hotel made you feel, not how you felt on the road.”
         “Oh.”  I thought about that for a moment.  “I don’t really know what you mean.  If it was a hotel like the one in Topeka, I felt like shit.  But the one in Memphis was pretty cool.  They even had hot tubs in the rooms.”  Loretta liked the hot tub as much as I had.
         “I guess I’m not asking the right question,” Stacie said.  “It’s just that I feel strange right now, somehow disconnected from who I am and how I normally might act.”
         “Oh, OK, I think I know what you mean.  I mean, most hotels are faceless, nameless, right?  You kinda leave who you are behind, your everyday worries and concerns, at the door.”
         “Yeah, I guess,” she said.  “I just feel like I’m not going to be in this place again for a long time, maybe ever.  Not here, not this hotel, I mean I may not be feeling what I’m feeling right now again.  Maybe I should explore it a little.”
         I was definitely intrigued by now.  I was still watching the cars go by on the highway, but my mind was elsewhere at the moment.
         “I have a crazy idea.  And don’t laugh, OK?”
         “OK.”
         “What if we went streaking?”
         “What!?”  I knew I had heard her right, but the words still seemed foreign.
         “You know what streaking is, right?”
         “Of course.  But I wonder if you do.”
         “Why not?  Hasn’t it ever occurred to you before?  Or at least something similar?  Like getting ice in only a towel or something.”
         “Well, now that you mention it…”
         “Oh, this sounds good,” she said.  “Tell me.”
         “In Canon City, the drink machines were right across the hall from my room.  And I was thirsty, you know, and maybe only in my underwear…”
         “So you were in your underwear?  Not nude?”
         “No, I wasn’t nude.  You sound disappointed.”
         “Funny.  Then why don’t you take your jeans off and come on over here?  I have a drink machine just down the hall.”
         “For that matter, so do I.”
         “See.  That takes the fun out of it.  We need to do it together.  Whatever trouble I get into tonight, I want you with me.”
         “Oh, really?  That means so much to me.”
         “I think you’re chicken.”
         “Chicken?  Maybe.  But going to jail for public nudity doesn’t seem nice to me.  And then can you imagine the phone call to Disario?  He’d go back to Memphis without us.”
         “So you are chicken then?”
         I laughed.  “Yeah, I guess I am.”
         “But why not?  What are the chances of us getting caught?  And do you really think they’d put us in jail for this?”
         “Actually, I’d be more worried that Disario would see us.”
         “Disario isn’t exactly innocent.  Do you know he smokes dope in his office?”
         I swallowed hard and coughed as a result.  So much for playing it cool.
         “I guess you did know then.  Oh, well.  No problem.  Hell, sometimes I think drugs would help me out.  But as I was saying…..”
         “You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”
         “Nope,” she said.
         I turned the tables on her.  “Then why don’t you come over here?  Bring your ice bucket and nothing else.”
         “OK,” she said.  Just like that.
         “Huh?”
         “Oh, now you don’t think I’ll do it.  Where is my ice bucket anyway?  Oh.  There it is.  But there is one thing first.”
         “Yes.”
         “You have to be naked too.  Nude, that is.  No underwear.”
         “I’m not wearing underwear.”
         “Really?  Is this an everyday thing?  Or are feeling spunky today?”
         “Spunky?  Like Spunky Brewster.”
         “Who?”
         “Every now and then, I go without underwear.  Today was one of those days.”
         “Interesting thought.  I’ll be there in two minutes.  You are going to take your jeans off, right?”
         “Of course, Stacie.  I’m unbuttoning them as we speak.”  That wasn’t true.
         “I’m on my way.”
         Dial tone.
         Oh, shit.  I hung the phone up, opened my door and stepped outside.  I couldn’t see anyone at the moment, but there were lights on in some of the rooms.  I stepped back inside and looked for a watch.  Right.  The hotel in Topeka had a digital clock; Little Rock can’t even afford a cheap wind-up Wal-Mart special.  It had to still be early though.  Not much after ten.
         I stood at the door for a moment, my hands on my buttons.  Why not? I thought.  Even if Stacie wasn’t in her birthday suit, why not just open the door when she knocked and be nude?
         Because I’d feel really dumb then, I reasoned.  Hell.  Maybe she hadn’t even been taking her clothes off when we spoke.  But then again, she had posed nude for me on three different occasions.  I shuddered.
         I poked my head out the door in the direction she would come from, then went back inside.  If I hesitated long enough, she’d be at my door…..
         She knocked at my door.  Instead of looking out first, I swung the door open.  To find her standing there wearing a smile, a pair of tight jeans and a white tank top.
         “Chicken,” she said as she walked in, handing me her ice bucket.
         “Me?  What about you?”
         She flopped down on the bed.  “I knew you wouldn’t go through with it.”
         I didn’t say anything.  It was obvious neither of us had gone through with it.
         “Actually, I guess maybe I chickened out to,” she said.  “But I have another plan.”
         “OK.  Let’s hear it.”
         “There’s a dinky little convenience store on my side of the hotel.  I was thinking maybe we could get some beer.”
         “You drink beer?”
         “Well, not yet,” she admitted.  “But you have to start somewhere.  You may can imagine that my grandmother was pretty strict in that regard.  And Gregg doesn't drink anything stronger than coffee, but what did I say about acting outside what is generally considered the norm for you?"
         I laughed.  “Not drinking is abnormal for me.”
         “Then let’s go.  Maybe it’ll loosen me up.”
         That was enough to get me going.  I reached for my shirt.
         “Go like you are.  No shirt, no shoes.  What are they going to do?  Refuse you service?  I’m going barefoot.”
         I made sure I had my wallet and my keys, then we walked out of the room, down the hall, then the steps and across the parking lot to the store.  There was the usual weekend mix, mostly people like us searching for beer.  A few people noticed us as we walked in, but they mainly looked at Stacie.  I realized why when I saw her in good light.  The shirt was tight and did not do much to conceal anything.  She wasn’t wearing a bra.  She caught my eye as we headed toward the back of the store and I knew she had worn the shirt on purpose.
         After we picked out the beer and were walking back to the hotel, I couldn’t resist saying something.  “Nice shirt.”
        “Oh, you like?  I normally just wear it to sleep in.  Did you notice that black guy checking me out?”
         “I think everyone in there checked you out, even the girl behind the counter.”
         She stopped walking and looked at me.  “Really?”
         “Yes.  And why not?  You look beautiful.”
         She blushed.  “Thanks.  But look at you.  They had to notice that chest on you.”
         “Oh, I don’t know.  I think they were mostly looking at your chest.”
         She laughed, then threw her hair back and went for the bag that was at my side.  She took it from me, then sat it on the ground so she could open the twelve pack of beer inside.  She handed one to me, then took one for herself, opened it and took a big swallow.
         “Man, that tastes awful.  Do you get used to it?”
         “The more you drink, the better it tastes,” I said.
         She took another swig before I even had mine opened.  We stayed there for a moment drinking before heading to the room.
         Once inside, there wasn’t anywhere to sit except for one uncomfortable chair and the bed.  She sat on the edge of the bed.  I stood.  She put her empty beer on the night stand then took mine and started in on it.
         “Get your own, buddy,” she said, smiling.  I did, then got two more including another one for her since mine had been almost empty before she stole it.
         We weren’t speaking, just looking at one another, alternating between drinking and trying not to laugh.
         “Those are the jeans you wore on the railroad tracks,” I said.
         “Oh, you noticed them.”
         “I’ve thought about those jeans a lot.”
         Then, she put this beer on the table also.  I knew something was about to happen, but didn’t know what.  She was staring me straight in the eyes as she went for her shirt and took it off, throwing it in my direction.  She shook her hair straight.
         “Is this how you remember me?” she asked, recreating the best pose from that day as best she could on the bed.
         “That’s one way,” I replied, as she stood up.
         She moved closer to me for a moment, then went for the door.  Somehow I was not that surprised when she opened it up and walked into the hallway.  The door closed behind her before I was able to join her at the balcony.  She was looking at the pool.  I was scanning in all directions, realizing that no one was around to pay us any attention.  There seemed to be fewer rooms with lights on.
         She turned around to me, then walked back inside.  I followed her in just enough time to see her slip out of her tight jeans, grab the nearest ice bucket (mine, for the record) and walk down the hall nude.  She got to the ice machine and filled the bucket all the way, before turning around toward me and walking down the hall.
         I couldn’t stop looking at her face.  There was something about it, a glow.  She was glowing.  Maybe it was the alcohol buzz, I don’t know.  Or the excitement.
         She got to the door, held it open for me, then we both went inside.  Nothing was said.  She simply put the bucket down on the sink, then we kissed.  It wasn’t that one or the other started the kiss.  It was natural, as if we had been expecting it for some time.  Which I guess was the case.
         She lay back on the bed with her legs slightly spread.  Her eyes told me what I already knew as I went to take my jeans off, then climbed into bed.  Nothing was said about turning the lights out.  We lay side by side, looking into one another’s eyes.
         “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” I said softly.
         “Me too, love,” she said, kissing me again.  My hands caressed her side.
         “I’ve wanted this to happen since we first met,” she whispered.  “It just took me a long time to admit it to myself.”
         I put my finger to her lips.  There was so much we both wanted to say, but at the moment, I didn’t think words were needed.  I kissed her again, then rolled over pulling her on top of me.  Her hair fell over her face as she looked down on me.  I reached for her breasts, then slid my hands down her sides.
         I held onto her waist and guided her over me.  She slid down easy and began moving up and down slowly.
         “You’re so beautiful,” I said, knowing I could never tell her just how magnificent I really thought she was.
         Every inch of me, my entire body, was feeling the sensation.  It was as if my hands were feeling every pore, every goose bump on her body, and sending shock waves through my veins.  I couldn’t close my eyes, unwilling to miss anything about her.  Her face was glowing.  Small beads of sweat began forming over her chest. She bent down just enough to allow me to open my mouth and bite gently on her nipple.  Murmurs of passion were beginning to fill the room as the movements became faster.  The bed was squeaking and hitting the wall.  The thought that someone was being kept awake by the sounds of our lovemaking made me go just a little harder, a little further in her.
         She kissed me hard, my teeth just momentarily biting her lips as her tongue entered my mouth.  My hands roamed her back, once in her long hair, then slowly reaching the small of her back.  I grabbed her ass and held on, then in one quick movement turned her over.  Now I was on top.  She grabbed my shoulders and dug her nails in.
         I buried my knees into the bed, allowing my to thrust harder.  Her head began hitting the headboard, making the bed hit the wall.  I put one hand between her head and the board.  But at that moment, she managed to push herself toward the end of the bed, away from the wall, and further onto me.  There was a slight, but noticeable, change in position.  The sensation changed and I felt myself go deeper her.
         I thought back to when she had posed for me at the river, how much I had wanted her then and how I had resisted the urge to make the first move, even though she seemed to be throwing hints for me to.  Then I remembered the first time I saw her, the way she took my breath away.  We had started off at odds with one another.  But I think I knew then that it was because we were so alike, not the opposite.
         I raised up just enough to let her know I was ready to change positions.  We maneuvered ourselves so that we were both sitting up, her in my lap facing me.  I held onto her ass while she had thrown her arms around and was holding on tight.  She bit into my neck to stop from screaming just as I was ready to explode.
         And then there was no movement, just us holding each other tightly in the middle of the bed.  Slowly, we separated from one another and lay side by side on the end of the bed, staring at the ceiling.
         Stacie broke the silence a few minutes later.
         “Wow.”
         I looked at her, then asked, “Was it that good?”  Thinking to myself what a stupid question to ask.
         “Wow,” she said again.  She hopped up and got another beer, then disappeared into the bathroom.  A few minutes later, I heard the shower cut on.
         “Hey, we’re in luck.  This one works pretty good.”
         She was already in the shower by the time I joined her.

         I woke up alone.  I tried to get my bearings.  It was still dark outside.  There was no sound coming from the bathroom.  With a sense of doom, I turned on the light.  Her clothes were still on the floor.  I stood up.  The bathroom door was open and there was clearly no one inside.
         A wild thought led me to the window and I looked at the pool below.  Sure enough, there she was, nude, swimming laps quietly.  She looked totally at peace and I wondered if maybe she was still drunk.  After we showered, we had downed a few more beers as we watched traffic across the field.  What else would allow her to skinny dip in a pool where, although it was the dead of night, anyone in thirty or more rooms could see her?
         I went to the bathroom to get a towel and realized one was missing.  Wrapping the remaining one around me, I walked onto the hallway.  It took a moment before she noticed me.  Before that time, I was wishing I had my cameras with me.  She waved at me like it was nothing, then climbed out of the pool, dried herself off, then wrapped the towel around her waist and headed for the stairs.  I scanned the area for the fourth time in as many minutes.  I didn’t see anyone.
         And then she was walking down the hall toward me.  We went back inside and made love again, then fell asleep in each other’s arms and stayed like that for the rest of the short night.

         Disario knocked on the door bright and early in the morning.  I threw my jeans on, then went to the door, only opening it as much as I needed to see out.
         “Rise and shine, Mr. Edwards.  I got to be home before it gets too late this afternoon to work my garden.  And I have to take Mizz Cooper home before I can do that.”
         “What time is it?”
         “Six thirty in the a.m.  Time for us to get out of this place and on the road.  Do you know where she is?  I went to her room first.  She’s either a heavy sleeper or she went out for breakfast.  I just hope she isn’t too late.”
         “I’ll tell her it’s time to go,” I said sleepily.
         He just nodded and I closed the door.  Stacie was lying just out of sight out of the covers still asleep.  On hindsight, the way I told Disario I would tell Stacie it was time to go may not have been the best choice of words.  It could lead to all type of speculation on his part.  But by the time we were all in his car, it seemed to have passed.  He took me to my apartment first, then left to take Stacie across town to the house she shared with her husband and his kids.  I threw my stuff down just inside the door, took my clothes off and fell on the couch.  I wouldn’t wake up until the phone rang a few hours later.
         “Hey, handsome.”  Stacie.
         “Hey,” I said, wiping the sleep out of my eyes.
         “I don’t have long to talk.  I just wanted to tell you I had a great time this weekend.  I remember everything and don’t regret a thing.”  It was like she answered the questions I had before I even had the chance to say them out loud.
         “Good,” I said.  “I was worried.”
         “You don’t have a thing to worry about.  Now I have to go, but I’ll be thinking about you.”
         “And I’ll be thinking about you.”
         Dial tone.
         I went back to sleep.  And was awakened again by the phone less than an hour later.
         “Hello.”
         “Ray, did you use my studio while I was away?”
         I tried to climb out of bed.  “I think I did.  I can’t remember that far back.”
         “OK.  That explains it.  I knew something was different, I just didn’t know what.  Who was the subject?”
         “A friend from school.  She wanted me to shoot some nudes of her.”
         “Cool.  I like the thought of some naked babe being in my house while I’m hundreds of miles away.”
         “How is your brother?”
         “Oh, he’s doing fine.  Thanks for asking.  There were some close moments, but he’s a fighter.  The doctors think he’s going to make a full recovery.”
         “That’s great.  Glad to hear it.”
         “But that’s not why I called.  I was talking to my friend Tricia Harris.  She works at the Pyramid.  You like the band U2?”
         “Like them?  I love them.  I’ve been thinking about going to see them when they hit Memphis.”
         “How’d you like a backstage pass?”
         “Are you kidding me?  You better not being pulling my leg.”
         “Ray, I’m not pulling your leg.  Give her a call tomorrow.  She’ll be expecting you.”
         “This is great.  What do I owe you?”
         “Ray, you don’t owe me a thing.  I’m just trying to throw some work to one of my best students,” he said.    "By the way, you left some shots of your babe in the darkroom.”
         “Oh, fuck.  I forgot them.  I was so tired when I was there last.”
         “It’s no bother.  You can pick them up anytime you’re ready.  But while we’re at it, I’m getting my photo workshop ready again for this year.  You remember last year don’t you?”
         “By the pool?”
         “Yep.  That’s the one.  Well we’re getting another one ready.  There’s just one thing though.  We don’t have enough models.  Most of my regulars have prior commitments.”
         It took me a minute to realize where he was going with this.  “Oh, no, no.  I don’t think she’d go for that.”
         “Why not?  From the few shots that I saw, she’s a natural.  She has the look.  She has the body.  She may have missed her calling.”
         “I tell you what.  I’ll talk to her about it.  But I doubt she’ll do it.  I’ll let you know one way or the other though.”
         “Sure, Ray.  And don’t forget to call Tricia.”
         I hung the phone up.  He was right.  Stacie was a natural.  But she’d never do it.

         The next day, I called Tricia Harris at the Pyramid.  “Ray Edwards, I was expecting a call from you.  I understand from Alexander that you’re a fine photographer.”
         “Well, I do what I can.  I went through his class and found out I already knew a lot of what he was teaching.”
         “Ray, as you may know, the rock band U2 is coming to the Pyramid.  How would you like a backstage pass?”
         I tried not to laugh.  A backstage pass to a U2 concert!?  How would I like that?
         “I’d be very grateful.  I was thinking I’d go to the show anyway.”
         “Here’s the deal,” she said.  “As a favor to Alex, I’ll give you a pass and let you take all the shots you want.  There will be places you can not go of course and I’ll have someone go over that with you when you get here.  But this could be a break for you.  I understand their shows this time around are very unique.  Can you be here at two this afternoon?  I can get you the pass and put you with a security guy to go over some details.”
         I had a class at two -- public speaking -- but I decided I would gladly skip it.

         I bounced into Disario’s office expecting to see Stacie at her desk.  Instead, the professor and a female student were huddled together over the computer.  Both looked at me with only slightly startled expressions.
         “Mr. Edwards, you generally aren’t so enthusiastic to see me.”
         “I was looking for Stacie,” I said.  “Is she around?”
         “No, you missed her by a few minutes.  She had to get home early tonight for some reason.”
         “Oh.”  There was something foreboding in his tone that I couldn’t place.  Just what did he suspect about this past weekend?  And why had Stacie had to go home early?
         “Is there something I can help you with?”
         “Well, maybe.  I just talked to a nice lady at the Pyramid.  I’m going to be backstage during the U2 show.”
         The student perked up from the screen.  “Really?”
         “Yeah.  I’m excited about it.  I’m a big fan.”
         “I’m a huge fan,” she responded.  “Bono is so hot.”
         The professor just looked at her and then said finally, “And what does this have to do with Mizz Cooper?”
         “As editor of the Spotlight and one of my friends, I thought she’d like to know that I’m going to be backstage at one of the hottest shows of the year with my camera.”
         He grinned and nodded.  “It sounds like fun.  Carmen, are you going to the concert?”
         “No, professor.  The show was sold out by the time I could afford tickets.”  Carmen looked at me expectantly.
         But I wasn’t about to play that game.  “Too bad I can’t bring any guests with me,” I said.
         Carmen looked at her watch.  “I really need to go, Professor Disario,” she said, gathering her things.  “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.  Ray, you’ll have to give me full details of the show.”
         We watched her leave, then Disario turned to me.  “What’s wrong with her?  I gave you a way in and you closed the door just as quickly.”
         “Professor, I don’t need you to set me up with anyone.  Thanks, but no thanks.”
         “I just figured here you are far away from home…”
         I threw up my hand.  “As I said, thanks but no thanks.”  I turned around and made my way to the door as fast as I could, knowing the professor would be watching me the whole way.

         I was both mad and perplexed by Disario’s behavior.  He never seemed much the matchmaker to me before this afternoon.  But as I got back to the apartment, I put it out of my mind.  The phone was ringing as I unlocked the door.  I picked up the cordless and walked into the kitchen looking for something to eat.
         “Hello.”
         “Hey, handsome.  Miss me today?”
         “Yes I did.  Where were you?”
         “I had a minor medical emergency.  Billy, Gregg’s youngest, fell down some stairs at school.  So I had to go pick him up from the school nurse.”
         “Is he all right?”
         “He’s fine.  Just got a sprained ankle and bruised pride.  Gregg’s parents couldn’t come get him in time, so he actually entrusted Billy to my care.  Tomorrow his parents will keep Billy and I'll be back at school.  But where were you today?  I was expecting you to be at your regular place during your lunch break.”
         “That’s what I was coming to tell you when I startled Disario and that Carmen girl.  I’ve got a backstage pass to the U2 concert tomorrow night.  I’ve got an area I’m free to roam around in with camera in hand.”
         “Ray, that’s so cool,” Stacie said.   “How did you manage that?”
         “Curtis did this for me.  He’s back in town.  He arranged this for me and called me last night.”
         “So who are you going with?”
         “No one, as far as I know.  Disario was trying to set me up with Carmen though.  But I ducked out of that.”
         “Why?” Stacie asked.  “She’s an attractive girl.  Wears too much make-up in my opinion though.  But why didn’t you go with her?”
         Hmm.  That was a tough question.  One that I didn’t have an easy answer for.  I decided to change the subject.  “Curtis was talking about you.”
         “He doesn’t know me.”
         “No, but it seems I accidentally left some of the shots in his darkroom and he found them.  He said the same thing that I did, that you’re a natural.”
         “Which shots did he find?”
         “They were from the last day when we were at the waterfall.”
         “Oh.”
         “The thing is, he asked me to ask you if you would pose for his class, the same class I had last year.”  I stopped speaking for a moment, but she didn’t say anything.  “I think you may have seen some of those shots.  They were in my portfolio anyway.  Curtis has a friend with a pool and lots of privacy.  So we go there, the whole class, with some models who pose for us.”
         “And he wants me to pose for this?”
         “Yeah, I told him I’d ask, but that I didn’t think you’d go for it.”
         “When is it?”
         “I’d have to ask him.  It’ll be during our school day.”
         “I’ll do it if it’s not going to be on a day that I have a test.”
         I was surprised, but didn’t say anything about it.  “OK.  I’ll call Curtis now, get the date and tell you when tomorrow.”

         She was just pulling her big 1907s Lincoln Continental into her spot when I walked over from the picnic bench where I had been studying for a test that day in my History class.  It seemed like I was always studying for a History test.
         “I still can’t really see you in this car,” I said, as she got her student bag from the backseat.  “I mean, I see you in it just about every day, but…”
         “This car was not what I had in mind when we went to pick it up.  Trust me on that.”
         “It definitely has a style of it’s own.”
         “He made so mad that day,” she began, as we strolled back to the bench where my books were.  “There was this awesome 1967 Mustang, a red convertible, and he wouldn’t even let me test drive it.”
         I feigned a pained expression and she playfully hit me in the chest.
         “He could have at least let me test drive it.  But instead I was left with that thing while he gets a brand new Lexus.”  She stopped talking and looked at me.  “Do I ever get on your nerves?  All I ever do is talk about my life.”
         “It just makes me wonder,” I said.
         “Wonder what?” she asked.
         I had deliberately left the thought dangling, wanting her to ask, wanting her to sense that the conversation was about to turn more serious.
         I ran my hand through my hair before saying, “I just wonder sometimes why you stay with him.  The marriage wasn’t born out of love, not true love anyway from what you tell me.  It’s hardly a happy union.  Why stay?”
         She stared at me for the longest time, her face unreadable.  “Sometimes I ask myself that same question.”
         “And?”
         She breathed deeply, then looked away from me, back toward the Lincoln, though I suspect she was just looking off into space.
         “Stacie, I’m sorry if I sprung this onto you without any warning or if I’m prying.  But this is something I have been wondering about for the longest time.”
         She turned back to me, her face pained.  “Ray, this weekend was wonderful.  I was hoping we could have more times like that somehow.  But don’t get too personal with me.  Don’t try to get to know me more than you already do.”  She grabbed her bag and ran off toward the McKenzie Building.  I started to follow, but didn’t.  I knew I’d see her later.

         I saw her in Disario’s office just after my history test.  She was sitting at the computer but was reading a book.
         “Hey,” I said.
         She broke out into a big smile when she saw me.  “Hey, Ray.  How’s your day?”
         “Just like all the rest, I guess.  What about you?”
         She shrugged.  “Just passing time until I go home.  Disario asked me to stay to take messages even though there’s nothing else for me to do.  I hope you weren’t offended by what I said this morning.”
         I was surprised she brought it up.  She had given me the impression that she was just going to act like it had not happened.  “Not at all.  I was obviously asking questions you didn’t want to answer.  No big deal.”
         “Ray, can I tell you a secret?”  She spoke in a whisper, as if she were about to confide in me some horrible crime from her past.
         “You can tell me anything.”
         “This weekend, or Saturday night to be more specific, was the best time of my life.  I was finally living for me instead of living by someone else’s sense if morals.  I was living for the moment and I loved it.”
         “I did too.”
         “No.  Let me speak.  All my life has been dictated.  What to wear, what to eat and when to sleep.  I’ve had to go to church my whole life because if I didn’t, I was obviously going straight to hell.  First my parents told me that.  Then it was my grandmother.  Now it’s my husband.
         “So this weekend may have been the only time I have ever done anything in my life just because I wanted to.”
         “It’s your life, Stacie.  You should feel free to live it how you see fit.”
         “No, not how I was raised.  I come from a family where women are still supposed to be submissive.  My grandmother felt the same way.  Lord knows Gregg does.  I guess what they say is true.  The family you come from will look a lot like the one you’re going to have.”
         “Stacie, that’s not true.  That’s just something people tell themselves when they don’t want to make the changes they need to in their life.”
         “So what was that you asked me this morning?  Why don’t I just leave?”
         “I did ask that.”
         “Well, it’s simple,” she stated.  “I do it for the money.  I mean, not the day to day money that he withholds from me.  Rather, it’s the money that keeps me in school.  It’s also the money that I don’t have for a place to stay.  My grandmother still lives near Nashville.  But I will never go back there.  Actually, if I left Gregg, she wouldn’t let me stay with her anyway.  She’d practically disown me.  So you see, I stay with him for the money.”
         “Stacie, you have one semester of school left after this one.  With your grades, the fact that you’re graduating early and your financial situation, the school would be falling all over themselves to give you a grant.  As far as the money for a place to stay, well, I think I know someone who would be more than willing to help you out.”
         She smiled a little.  “Ray, that’s very sweet.  But how smart would that be?  I’d basically be going from one man who controls my finances to another man who controls my finances.  As for the grant, you’re right there.  I never really thought of it that way.”
         “So what are you going to do?  Stay with him until you can afford to leave?  How long are you willing to stay?  One year?  Two years?  Ten years?”
         “Ray, I don’t want to have this discussion with you.”  She stood up and went to the file cabinet, but lacking anything to put in or take out, just had to stand there.  I started to walk up behind her, to put my hands on her neck and turn her to me.  But I had to remember where we were and how that would look should someone, such as the professor, walk in at that moment.
         I didn’t know what to say.  For a moment, I considered walking out.  It would have been easier.  Instead, I said, “Who do you want to have this discussion with?”
         She turned toward me with a baffled expression on her face.  Then she saw my smile.  “Don’t try to make me laugh,” she said.
         “Come on, Stacie.  If you don’t want to talk to me about this, then who will you talk to?  Your grandmother?”
         “That’s just it, Ray.  I can’t talk to anyone.  And I don’t want to.  Can’t you understand that?”
         “Frankly, I can’t.  What are you going to do?  Stay with him forever?”
         “And what if I do?”
         “Why are you being so antagonistic?  I’m here as a friend.  We got over our rivalry period a long time ago.”
         A slight smile again.  “Maybe we need to have a talk about our relationship then.”  She went back to her seat at the computer.  “I hope we can get together again like this weekend.  I’ve already said that.  But I am a married woman.  Don’t expect too much from me.”
         Before I could say anything, she continued:  “I also think maybe you should take someone to the concert tonight.  If not Carmen, then someone else.”
         “I’d rather go by myself since you won’t go.  I’m going to be consumed with taking pictures anyway.”
         “That’s not what I meant.  I meant you should consider going out on dates.  Believe me, you can find someone to go out with on this campus.  You and I can be secret lovers.”
         I was at a loss for words again.  I guess I had been hoping for something to develop between us without really even thinking about it.  At the same time, I also was not prepared to sit here and talk about our relationship as casually as it seemed we were.
         “Aren’t you going to say something?”
         “I’m not sure what t say.”  I sat there for another moment, then got up and walked out of the room and down the hall.  It seemed easier if I could put as much distance between me and her as fast as possible.  Stacie had other ideas though.  Without me knowing it, she had followed me down the hall.  Just as I reached the elevator, she reached out and grabbed my arm.
         “Ray, I wish we could talk about this,” she said.  No one was around as it was getting late in the day.  There was an old couch nearby. As the elevator doors opened, I stepped over and gestured to her that we should have a seat.
         “OK.  You want to talk, then talk.  But from my perspective, it sounds like you’ve said it all.”
         “Are you mad at me?”
         I shook my head.  I wanted to tell her that it was me I was mad at, not her.  I was the one that allowed myself to care so deeply for her.  Maybe I had begun to care too much.
         “I’m not mad at you.  I’m just understanding better where I stand in your life.”
         “When you say things like that, it makes me believe that you are mad at me.”
         “Stacie, it’s getting late.  I want to get to the Pyramid early and I still need to go home, change clothes and get something to eat.”  I stood up to let her know that I was indeed ready to leave this time.  “I guess all I’m saying is simple.  At some point you have to ask yourself a question.  The answer to that question will be enough for you to know what you need to do.  It’s a yes or no question, but it’s not a simple one. Also, you have to answer this question without any thoughts of the consequences involved.  Answer the question, then deal with the consequences later.  And it’s this: Do you want to stay married to Gregg for the rest of your life?”
        I pushed the button to the elevator.  Luckily, the doors opened right up.  As I was about to get on, Stacie stopped me, put her arms around me and pulled me close.  Then I stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

         I thought about the conversation on my way home.  I wanted her to leave Gregg.  I wanted the two of us to have some kind of lasting relationship.  But she had to make the decisions.  Yes, I did want her to leave her husband.  But I wanted her to want this on her own, not because she knew she had someone waiting in the wings.
         I also did not want to force the issue anymore than I felt I already had.  People, sometimes, will make the opposite decision of what is expected of them just for that reason.  In other words, I didn’t want to push her into staying with the man.
         It was an odd position I found myself in.  But on this night in May of 1992, it was the last thing I wanted to think of.  I went home, fixed myself a drink, took a quick shower, then got ready for a night that unbeknownst to me at the time would greatly alter the rest of my life.

         The night started on a sour note.  First of all, security didn’t want to grant me the access that Tricia Harris assured me I would have.  That got cleared up with a simple phone call, one that the idiot who thought he was in charge put off making for entirely too long.  Meanwhile, the opening act, Public Enemy, was already on stage.
 Next came a minor emergency when I lost my 100-300 mm lenses.  During the argument with Joe Friday I had somehow let it out of my sight and walked away from it. Fortunately, when I caught my lapse in judgment and retraced my steps, it was where I had left it.
         When I’m shooting, there are times when I know I have just taken the best shot of the series.  I call these instances my “kill shots.”  It happens whether I’m photographing trains, nudes or scenes of a city.  The first kill shot of the night came when U2 was taking the stage.  I didn’t know I had set up in the area they would have to pass to get to the stage; it just worked out that way.
         As Bono passed, he saw the camera and blew a kiss my way.  Then, still in his Fly persona he wore during this period, he primped for the camera, looking like a wild mix of Jim Morrison and an 80s heavy metal moron all at once.
         The next kill shot came when Bono jumped into the front row, and pulled a pretty girl on stage during “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”  But the best shot of all was when B.B. King made a surprise visit on stage during an electrified rendition of the song “When Love Comes To Town.”  It was a great moment, one of Memphis’ own being given a moment to shine by a band from Ireland.  That was the shot that caused me to call Curtis at a time of the night when I knew he would already be asleep.
         I called from my Jeep before I even left the parking lot.
         “Get some coffee ready, my man, you and I are staying up all night.”
         “Ray?  Is that you?” he said.  “It better not be you since you would know I have to be at school by 7:45 in the morning.”
         “It is me.  And I’m on my way over.  I’m borrowing you and your dark room for the next few hours.”
         “Can’t this wait?”
         “Nope.  It can’t wait.  And I like mine with a lot of sugar and a lot of cream, the kind from cows, that is.”

         I wasn’t sure what I would find when I got to his house.  But he was a trooper.  He was already getting the dark room prepared and had a pot of coffee ready.  Halfway through the process, we got to the B.B. King shots.
         “Jesus, Ray, these are good shots.  Did you see anyone from the Memphis paper there?”
         “There was a few guys with cameras around.  Most of them had headed for the doors by the time King came on.  Why?”
         “Hold on for a minute.  We can take a break while I make some calls.”
         I was pretty sure what he was doing.  But instead of saying anything, I just sat on the front porch drinking another cup of coffee.  Ten minutes later, he came out with a manila folder.
         “Ray, if you trust me to finish developing your shots, you need to head over to the Memphis Times building.  Ask to see a man named Derek Thomas.  He wants to see your B.B. King shots.  When you get finished there, come back here.”
         “Thanks, Alex,” I said, taking the folder and heading straight for my Jeep.  Once inside, I realized it was after 2 a.m. and it looked to be a long night coming.

         I decided to stay awake until the Times came out.  There on the front page was my shot of B.B. King and Bono with The Edge in the background.  The photograph was credited to me, of course.  And while I did have some shots of that house fire in several Arkansas papers, somehow this was different.  It would get better, but that was still a little while away.
         I had decided I was too tired to go to school.  But I was too tired to go to sleep too.  Instead, I was writing when there was a knock on my door.  I was very surprised to find Stacie there with a copy of the Times.
         “This is very cool,” she said, hugging me.  “I couldn’t believe it when I saw the paper.  You have to tell me everything.”
         I looked at the clock on the wall.  There wasn’t much time before her first class.  But I figured she knew this.  I also assumed she knew I was planning on cutting since I must have looked like pure hell.  So I told her everything from the ignorant security guard to the trip to the Times.
         “After that, Curtis and I stayed up the rest of the night developing more shots.  Then he left for school.”  I motioned to the stack of shots on the end table.  “Most of them are in there if you think you have time before your first class.”
         “I can miss a class here or there,” she said as she picked up the shots.  “I mean, if you don’t mind the company.”
         I smiled.  “I don’t mind the company if you don’t mind being with someone who was up all night and hasn’t had more than a candy bar to eat in twelve hours.”
         She shot me a concerned look.  “You haven’t eaten since when?”
         “I had something on the way home from school yesterday.”
         She stood up.  “Let’s go.  I’m taking you out to eat.”
         “But you haven’t looked at the shots.”
         “I can look at them at the restaurant.  But right now, you need to eat.”
         “Well, I am very hungry,” I said.
         “Then it’s settled.  Go take a shower to wake yourself up.  And think about where you want to eat.”  I started to protest, but she stopped me.

         I had livened up a little by the time we got to the Griddle House.  I ordered a big breakfast with coffee.  She ordered toast and juice, then went through the pictures slowly and methodically.  I watched her some, looked out the window at the highway a little.
         “You know,” she said.  “Why are you in school anyway?”
         “I’m trying to get an education.”
         “Why?  Because you can?  Because you have the money to do it?”
         I looked at her for a moment, then said, “Yes.”
         “What I’m getting at is that you have the talent to do well in photography.  Forget about being an English professor.”
         “Why?  Don’t you think I’d be just as good as Disario?”  I said it with a big smile.
         “Ray, don’t try to throw me off subject here.  I mean, I understand why you’re going to school, I guess.  Nothing wrong with a good education.  But in your case, you have the talent and the money in the bank to spend a few years trying to get a career in photography going.  Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of that?”
         “I have thought about it,” I said.  “But it’s impossible to make a living as a rail photographer.”
         She rolled her eyes.  “It’s hard having a discussion with a man who keeps bringing up irrelevant facts.”
         “Irrelevant facts?  I can’t think of anyone…”
         She stopped me in mid-sentence.  “Ray, you’re a great photographer of other things than trains.  Look at those shots you took last night.  They made the front page of the Memphis newspaper for God’s sake.  You could probably sell those shots you took of me to someone.”
         “I think I could,” I said, looking back out at the highway.
         She let the subject drop.

         “So where to next?” she asked when we got back in the Cherokee.  She had driven to the restaurant and though I felt better since eating, I didn’t mind letting her drive to our next destination.
         “We still have the rest of the day,” I reminded her, already pretty sure where we would go.  And I was right.  Without saying anything about it, she began the trip north of Memphis to an area of the Illinois Central line where I’m sure no one knew rested a perfect skinny dipping spot.
         We walked down the tracks holding hands, then down the slight embankment and into the clearing.  Once there, she seemingly ripped her clothes off in one action and darted for the water.  This time she could dive right in without testing it’s warmth first.
         “Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked after I had watched her for a few minutes.
         “I don’t know.  What if I don’t want to?”
         She stood up in the water and walked to where it came up to her knees.  “And miss out on this?” she smiled.
         I laughed as I pulled my shirt off.  The water was a little cooler than I had expected as I stepped in.  I waded over to where she was.  We stood facing one another for a long minute then I put my hands around her waist.
         “Are we here to swim or what?” she asked.
         “Whatever comes up,” I replied.
         “Really?”  She backed away from me, the bent down in the water and splashed me.
         “Oh, you are evil,” I said, cupping my hands full of water and set to fire.  All out war ensued with us chasing each other through the shallow water, laughing and having a good time, romping naked under the sun.
Finally, we stopped in knee deep water and began kissing passionately.  I put my hands on her ass and lifted her up.  She wrapped her legs around my waist and guided me into her.

         We were in the bathtub.  I was leaning against the back of the tub and she had her back to my front.  I had dozed off for a few moments and was awakened when she moved suddenly.  She rose to look at me over her shoulder.  From the look in her eyes, I could tell something was weighing on her mind.  She turned around and faced me.
         “I have something to tell you.”
          I sat up and pushed my hair back.  “You can tell me anything.  You know that.”
         “It’s been on my mind a lot lately, but I’ve tried not to think about it.  I’ve wanted to pretend that it wasn’t real.”  She swallowed hard, then went on.  “There’s no other to say this but to blurt it out.  So here it goes.”  Finally she looked directly into my eyes.  “Ray, I love you.”
         I breathed out.  I had not expected this and had thought she was about to say we should not see each other anymore.
         “You do?”  What an idiotic thing for me to say, I realized at the time.  I was buying time, but sounded stupid the way I did it.
         “It would be so much easier if I didn’t.  But I do.  And I don’t expect for you to tell me the same thing.  That’s not why I said it.  In fact, it would make things really difficult…”
         “But I do,” I said.  “I’ve known it for weeks, maybe longer, even when I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t true.  I mean, you are everything I’ve been looking for.  You’re everything I’ve always wanted.  You’re beautiful, smart and funny.  But you’re also married.”
         She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.  “I don’t feel married.  At least not until I go home.”  She almost laughed.  “Home is not the way I’d describe that place really.  It’s just a house.  It’s not my home.  It never has been.”  She rested her head against her knees and looked in the direction of the wall, though I knew she was staring into space.  Suddenly, the bathroom and the water felt very cold.
         I watched her for a few moments.  She was so beautiful.  I felt like I had known her my whole life.  But at this particular moment in time, I had no clue what to say next or what to do.  I either needed to run more water or we needed to get out of the bath, but she was in front of the faucet.  It did not seem appropriate to ask her to move.  Not when she was sitting in front of me a million miles away.
         I reached over and put my first two fingers on her chin, then turned her face toward me.  She blinked her eyes twice.
         “Stacie, we can get through this.”
         “Get through what, Ray?  You make it sound like I have cancer or something.  Like I’m a terminal case.  Come to think of it, maybe I am.”
         “Stacie,” I began, then realized I was about to say something she would not like.
         “What?”
         “Nothing,” I replied, stepping out of the water.  I went for a towel before I dripped on the floor too much.
         “Ray, you have to tell me what you were going to say.”
         “You know what you have to do.  You have to leave him.  Frankly, I’m not sure I could stand to be the guy you fuck on the side.  Not now, not after you told me you love me.”
         She shot up like she was mad.  “You just don’t understand, Ray!  In my family, love doesn’t have much to do with anything.  As my mother would say, I made my bed, now I have to lie in it.  Some day I’ll get used to it.”
         “But why, Stacie?  Why is it that divorcing a man you don’t love, someone who doesn’t love you, so wrong?  Yet sleeping with me while you’re still married to him is apparently all right?  I don’t get that and was hoping that maybe you could shed some light on it.”
         She wrapped a towel around her body and stepped out of the tub.  I thought she was going to head straight for the door.  That’s what I probably would have done.
         “It’s not right.  I wasn’t brought up like this.  But I can’t stay away from you either.”  She put her hand to my cheek and looked me in the eyes.  I began to melt.  At one point I was thinking that maybe I should call it off.  Now I was hoping she wouldn’t.
         “I didn’t want to get into this today,” she said.  “You’re on the brink of something wonderful.  I just wanted us to be alone together and share this day for as long as we could.”
         “Stacie, we’re on the brink of something wonderful.  We could be so good together.  You know it and I know it.  And I just don’t understand why after such a great day we’ve had, you’re going to go back to being his maid.  You love me, Stacie.  Why won’t you stay with me?”
         “If you don’t understand by now, you never will.”
         She walked out of the room and left me wondering what she had meant by that.  When I found her she was putting her clothes on.
         “Leaving?” I asked.
         “Yeah.  You’re tired.  You need to get some sleep.  And I need to get home before the fat man starts wondering where I am.”  She walked over and kissed me.  “You’re a fantastic lover.  That’s what has been getting me through the times when we’re apart.”
         How could I argue with something like that?  We kissed again, then I watched her dress and leave.  Now I was alone in my apartment.  I closed my eyes and slept.

         The day of the photo shoot came.  I met Stacie at school in the morning to see if she was still going to meet me at 10 o’clock.  Curtis wanted us to be at a little before 11.  That was when his students were to arrive.
         “I think I’m a little more nervous this time than when I first posted for you.”
         “If you don’t want to do this…”
         “Do you not want me to do this?”
         “It’s up to you.  I think it’s kinda cool.  But I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want to do.”
         She gave me that sideways glance that told me there was nothing to worry about, that, in fact, I was being silly.  “I’m a new me.  I only do what I want to do.”
        Which is funny, I thought, started to say it.  That either means you want to stay with Gregg or that you don’t actually do what you want.
         We got the house, a mansion, really, and walked around to the back.  Curtis was standing around the pool with an older gentleman that he introduced as the owner of the house.
         “I was just leaving.  No need for an old man to be around all you young types.  Alexander, I will talk to you soon.”
         “That man is insanely rich,” Curtis said.  “Mr. Fineman.  He owns a warehouse operation near the airport, one of many projects he has going on.  This is his small house.  You should see the one in Malibu.”
         “I’d like to.  When can we leave?”
         Curtis playfully hit me in the ribs.  “Keep up the good work you’re doing and you may be his neighbor someday.”
         A guy and girl walked up with camera bags in hand.
         “Robert, Robin, I’d like you to meet a great photographer from last year, Ray Edwards.”
         Robert extended his hand.  “Mr. Curtis showed us your most recent work, U2 and B.B. King on the front page of the Times.  Very cool.”
         “Thanks, it was nothing.  This is my friend, Stacie Cooper.”
         “Stacie is one of the models for today,” Curtis said.  “She’s helping me out of a jam today since most of my other models are AWOL.”
         Robert smiled at her and was summarily pulled away from all of us by Robin.  Over the course of the next few minutes, the rest of the class showed up as well as Natalie, whom I remembered well from the seminar last year.
         “OK, class,” Curtis said.  “The big day is here.  But we’ve talked about this.  We know what to expect.  You’re professionals now and so are these models.  We actually are missing one who said he would be here.  How many models did we have last year, Ray?”
         “Six, I think, three male, three female.”
         “I think Maria got married and doesn’t model anymore,” Natalie said.
         “Well, that’s nice.  Natalie, why don’t you and Stacie go in the bath house and get ready?  There’s towels in there for you.  I’m going to try to track Jimmy down from my car phone.”
         The girls went into the bath house, Curtis went to his car and the students went for their camera bags.  I stood there trying not to feel out of place.  The students got there cameras and stood there too.  We were all standing around this pool not looking at anyone else.
         Stacie and Natalie walked out of the bath house in their towels at the same time that Curtis returned from his car.  He had his cell phone and put it on the table nearest the bath house.  “These big bags have really got to go.  At some point, I hope they make these phones smaller.  I’ve left a message for Jimmy.  Until then, shall we get started?”  No one said anything as Curtis looked around the group.  “OK, then.  Girls, if you’ll shed the towels and get in the pool, we’ll get started.”
         They both unwrapped their towels, but Stacie had to throw hers over the back of a chair for some reason.  Natalie stepped down the stairs into the cool water while Stacie dove head first into the deep end.
         “OK, gang, now get in there and take some amazing shots.”
         Curtis came and stood behind me as the students stepped closer to the pool and started snapping shots.  The girls just stood there, not knowing what to do since none of the students were giving them any instructions.  I looked at Curtis.
         “They’re not the brightest students I’ve ever had,” he said.  Then to the students, “Tell them what to do.  Give them an idea what you’re looking for in a shot.  They don’t know what to do if you don’t tell them.”
         One of the female students told Stacie to come closer to the side of the pool and act like she was about to get out.  A male student took shots of this too.  Another guy asked Natalie to step down into the shallow section of the pool.
         The telephone rang and Curtis went to answer it.  I kept watching the proceedings.  Stacie looked totally at ease.  Natalie looked a little nervous.
         Curtis walked back up and told us all, “That was my one male model who was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.  He’s not coming.  His dog is sick, so he’s taking him to the vet.”
         Robin, the female student Curtis introduced me and Stacie to asked, “So we’re just going to take pictures of these two girls?”
         “Well, it looks that way,” he replied.
         “Ray can pose,” Stacie suddenly said from the pool.
         I laughed out loud.  “Shut up, Stacie.”
         “Why not?” Robin asked.  I noticed Robert was still looking at Stacie.  Maybe Robin was trying to get back at him.
         “I’m not a model,” I replied diplomatically.
         “I wasn’t a model either,” Stacie said, “until a few weeks ago.”
         “Stacie, you’re not helping.”
         Natalie said, “You were a photographer here last year.  You should be a model this year.”
         Curtis turned to face me.  “You know, Ray, you would help me out of a jam here.  I’ll pay you just like I’m paying Natalie and Stacie.”
         “I don’t know, Mr. Curtis.”
         “Why not?  Stacie is obviously fine with it.”
         I couldn’t tell him that it was him.  I didn’t want him to see me nude.  That would put a weirdness between us.  But I doubted he would understand.  For that matter, I doubted Stacie would understand as she had shown no problem with posing nude in front of anyone.
         From behind Curtis, I heard Stacie’s voice: “Come on, baby, you ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of.”
         “All right.  I’ll do it.”
         Stacie and Natalie were clapping as I went into the bath house.  I was nervous as all hell as I closed the door behind me.  Their clothes were in a pile next to each other.  There were a few more towels hanging up as well as an enclosed shower.  I sat down on a stool and started untying my shoes.
         In a moment, I tentatively opened the door and walked out in my shower.  Both girls were now being posed side by side stepping out of the pool.  Stacie saw me first.
         “There he is.  I was wondering if you were going to escape out the back window.”
         “I looked.  There wasn’t a window back there.”
         Robin was already taking pictures of me as I took the towel of and stepped in the pool.  I swam across to the other side and back again to get my hair wet and also to work out my nerves.
         “Ray,” Robin said, “push your hair back and act like you’re about to push yourself out of the pool over here.”
         I did what she said, noticing that the girls were mainly taking shots of me and the guys were taking shots of Stacie and Natalie.
         “Now do the backstroke across to the other side.”
         A few weeks ago, I could barely swim, I reminded myself.  Now I was doing the backstroke.  I’m not sure what the difference was.
         “Can we get all three of you together?” one of the guys asked.  He had us in the shallow section standing on our knees so only our heads were above water.  I was between Natalie and Stacie.  Next, he had us stand up, then looked to Curtis.  “Can I ask them to put their arms around each other?”
         Curtis looked at us.  “I don’t see why not.  Do you guys mind?”
         No one said anything.  Instead, we put our arms around each others waist and stood in close.  Both girls were touching me.  I tried not to think about it.
         “Maybe the girls could face each other,” the student said.  “Still stand like they are now, but look at each other.”
         After those shots, we were directed – by Robin – to split up again.  Robin wanted some shots of me sitting on the far side of the pool.  Her telephoto lens would have brought me in close.  Curtis, meanwhile, was on his phone.  I wondered how much longer this would be.  It felt like I had been posing for more than an hour.  Chances are it had not been near that long.
         I kept watching Stacie and Natalie out of the corner of my eye.  Robert had them standing together in the shallow water with their arms around each other again, looking toward the camera.
         “Five more minutes, everyone,” Curtis called out.
         The last series of shots were of the three of us sitting on the edge of the pool, Natalie on one side of me and Stacie on the other side.  These would be the best shots of the day, my favorites out of the ones given to me.
         “OK, that’s it,” Curtis said.  “If my students will gather their equipment and meet me back at the school.  Natalie, you, Ray and Stacie are free to go.  Thank you all.  Your money is in the bath house.”
         I slipped back in the water; Stacie and Natalie stayed where they were.
         Stacie looked at me.  “Is that all?”
         “Evidently.  I thought we were longer than this last year.  Natalie?”
         “I can barely remember last week,” she said, “let along last year.”
         The students were ready to go.  Robert and Robin were walking off.  Curtis said, “I guess you can stay if you want to.  The house is closed and the owner is going to be away most of the day.  Just close the gate when you leave?”
         “Sure,” I said.
         Curtis and his students headed toward the gate that led to the driveway area.
         “What are you going to do, Natalie?”
         “I have to be at work at four.”
         I jumped in.  “Maybe you two wouldn’t mind posing for me for another hour or so?  My camera is in my car.”
         “Well,” Natalie said, “Mr. Curtis has already paid me for my time…”
         “I’ll pay you what he did,” I said.
         “OK.”
         “I’ll be right back, then.  I’ll get dressed, then get my stuff.”  I swam to the other side of the pool, stepped out and walked into the bath house.  I dried myself off quickly, then dressed.  When I walked out of the house, Natalie was treading in the deep section while Stacie was sitting on the edge nearby.  They were talking to one another, but I couldn’t hear what was being said.
         I walked briskly to the Jeep.  Everyone else was already gone.  I got the camera bag and external flash as there was no time to worry about setting up al of the equipment now.  When I went back to the pool, they were in the same place as they had been when I left.
         “Anyone want to back out?”
         “Nope,” Stacie said.
         “As long as I’m being paid, I’m fine.”
         “That’s what I wanted to hear,” I said, strapping the camera around my neck.  “I’ll try to be a better director than Curtis' gang of idiots.  Right now, I just need both of you in the water swimming from end to end as if in some sort of contest.”  They did what I said, but the shot wasn’t really what I was looking for.  I was hoping to ease my nervousness since neither of them seemed to have any of their own.
         “Good, good,” I said.  “Now, I think we need a good water fight.  Yeah, that’s what we need.  Get in the shallow section and give it all you’ve got.  I’ll step away as much as I can and use my telephoto, but please don’t get my camera wet.”
         I started snapping before the water fight got underway, but the best shots of the series would turn out to be when the fight was well underway.  One shot in particular had Natalie’s hand shoving the water up and her face being pelted by a wave from Stacie.  The shutter was slow and the effect was dynamic.
         A little while later, there was another shot I wanted.  But I had to be in the pool with them.  “I should have thought of this sooner,” I said to no one in particular.  I took off my shirt, socks and shoes, cleaned out my pockets, then started to step into the pool.  Both Natalie and Stacie looked at me like I was crazy.
         “Wouldn’t it be wiser if you didn’t have anything on?” Natalie asked.
        “Yeah, Ray.  Why get your jeans wet?  Besides, we’ve already had an up close view of you naked.  More than once for one of us.”
         As odd as it may have sounded, I didn’t think I should take my jeans off.  I was trying hard to be totally professional here.  But then again, two beautiful naked girls just asked me to finish undressing.  I didn’t need to be asked twice.  I took my jeans off and slipped into the water making sure I was as still as possible so I would not get the camera wet.  I then lowered myself as close to the water as possible.  I instructed the girls what I wanted, that they should be facing each other from about five feet away while I would be ten feet behind both of them  Stacie was facing me; Natalie had her back turned toward me.
         “Stacie, look at Natalie the way you look at me.”
         She looked at me like she was shocked I had said that.
         “What?  Then look at Natalie the way you look at Tom Cruise.”
         “Who?”
         “Are you trying to make my job hard today, Stacie?  I’m going for a look here.  Look at Stacie, you know, like you’ve looked at me before.”
         She finally gave me the look I was hoping for.  We kept shooting for another thirty minutes.  I had to get out of the pool once to drag my camera case and the film inside closer to the pool.
         “Now I’d like for the two of you to put your arms around each others waist and look toward the camera.  You’ll basically be standing side to side.  Just think of the camera as someone you both know who just stepped into the pool.”
         Natalie seemed a little apprehensive, but Stacie was ready to do what I told her.  I wondered how far she would go.
         “Now turn facing one another still with your arms around each other’s waist.”
         Natalie looked at me and said, “We may be approaching a line I don’t want to cross.”
         “I’m not asking that you do anything more than this.  Just face one another with your arms around each other and your hips touching.  Leave some space up top.”  I had no idea what I was saying, but Natalie seemed to understand.  Stacie, as always, did what I asked.
         “Stacie, put your right hand on her face.  Great.  Just like that.  Now that’s all I’m going to ask.  Natalie, you were great; Stacie, you’re a pro and you don’t even know it.  Thank you both.”
         “Anytime you ever want to use me,” Natalie said.  “Just give me a call.  Curtis has my number.”
         “I will,” I said, putting my camera on the pool deck.  She and Stacie walked to the bath house.  I got out of the pool and put my equipment up.  I needed a towel, but was going to let Natalie leave first.
         Natalie walked out of the bath house dressed in no time and came right up to me.  “You said you were going to pay me.”  She was holding out her hand.
         “Oh, I almost forgot.”  I dug the envelope out of my pocket that Curtis had given me, then handed it to Natalie.  “Thanks again.”
         “No problem,” she replied.  “I won’t forget this.  It’s the first time a photographer was nude at the same time.”  She smiled and walked away.
         Stacie poked her head out of the door and motioned me to join her.  I ran to the bath house, opened the door and was literally attacked by Stacie.  She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my mid-section kissing me deeply.
         “I’m so fucking turned on,” she said, between kisses.  “You made me so hot out there.  Fuck me here and now.”
         I found a small table behind the chair.  One of the legs was noticeable shorter than the other three, but it was up for the job.  I sat her down on the table, spread her legs open just enough and slipped myself into her.  It was fast and furious, five minutes tops.  Then we showered off, dressed and went back to school.
         “I can’t believe you actually posed,” she said.
         “Yeah, I was nervous.  I can’t say I really liked being on that side of the camera.  But I knew you’d give me total hell if I didn’t do it.”
         “She laughed.  “You really do think you know me, don’t you?”
         “Are you saying you wouldn’t have given me hell?”
         “No, I’m not saying that all.  Because I would.  But seeing you out there, it just did something to me.  And there was something about Natalie, too.  It was weird.”
         “How so?”
         “She was turning me on too. I would have done anything you asked there at the end.  I would have kissed her.  I might have done more.  My heart is still racing.”
         “Really?”
         “Ray, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I was out there.  That’s why I jumped your bones, or you bone, like I did.  All I could focus on was her lips.”
         I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.  I was getting hard.  “How far would you have gone?”
         “All the way, I think.  I really wanted to get it on with her.  I was hoping she’d say something or do something to let me know she wanted it to.  And then I was hoping you would have put that camera down and joined us.
         “I’ve never had thoughts like these.  Honestly, I never really looked at men as sex objects until there was you.  I never thought about it one way or the other.  But there was something between us from the first time I saw you.  That’s how I felt with Natalie today.”
         I pulled into the parking lot beside her car.  In my rearview mirror, I noticed a man sitting in an old pick-up.  I felt uneasy, but didn’t let Stacie know it.
         “I want to see those shots as soon as you get them developed.”
         “Surely,” I replied.  She leaned over and I kissed her on the lips.  Then, she got out of the Jeep and into her car and pulled off.  I waited until she was out of sight, then got out of the Jeep and began walking toward the truck.  Just like some scene in a bad Hollywood movie, the man threw the butt of a cigarette out of the window, cranked his car up and drove right past me.
         I got back in the Jeep and headed for home, stopping for a case of beer on the way.

         Finals were coming up as well as the last issue of the Spotlight.  Things were busy.  I found a little time to practice photography and made a concerted effort to get better at night time shots.
         Stacie and I saw each other only at school.  We were rarely ever alone, but did manage to sneak in a few phone calls late at night when her husband was asleep.  At first I didn’t like not being able to be with her, but then I saw it as an advantage.  Away from the hot and heavy physical relationship, now we could be sure that our feelings were legitimate.  And if they weren’t, that was good too.  At least we would know
         Meanwhile, my photograph of B.B. King on stage with U2 was published in Rolling Stone in the news section.  After that, the news editor at the Memphis Times contacted me and I began working freelance for her.
         It was during this time that I was able to meet Bill Clinton.
         He was in the process of getting the Democratic nomination for President and had come to Memphis to speak.  Also in attendance was Al Gore, senator from Tennessee.  One of the shots I got was of the two shaking hands on stage after Clinton spoke.  The paper ran this one as well as a close up of Clinton seemingly in deep thought sitting in the backseat of his car.
         The Clinton-Gore shot was later picked up by the AP.  Mom called to congratulate me.  It had been a while since I talked to her.
         “Bernice Medlin called me,” she said.  “She just couldn’t believe that one of your shots was in the Charlotte Observer.  She said she was so proud of you.”
         I decided not to tell her I had no idea who Bernice Medlins was.  I knew that Mom loved getting attention.  That was, in fact, why she had called.  Nevermind that she hadn’t actually done anything for the attention in this case.
         “Are they paying you well?” she asked.
         “Yeah, no complaints there,” I said.  “I just got a check from the Memphis Times today.”  I figured at some point she would ask if I was making more money than I was spending yet, but thankfully it didn’t come.
         “Have you got anything in the mail from Amanda?”
         “Huh?” I said, vaguely alarmed.  “I haven’t heard from here in a long time.”  I walked over to the table beside the door with the phone in my hand with the sudden recollection I hadn’t been going through my mail as much lately since all it had been was bills.
         “Is this going to be something I want to see?” I asked, finding the formal looking envelope near the bottom of the stack.  Just one glance at it told me what it had to be. A wedding invitation.
         “I couldn’t tell you that,” my mother said.  “I stopped trying to figure out how things affected you a long time ago.”
         “It’s for two weeks away.  Don’t they normally give you more time than this?”
         “Most people do.  But maybe she and her fiancee and their families aren’t aware of this.  Of course, they may think they need to rush the marriage.  The point is, will you be coming home for it?  Your father and I would love to see you.  You know we turned your old bedroom into a guest room.”
         “You did what?  When was the last time you had a guest?”
         “We haven’t yet.  But one must always be prepared,” she reasoned.  “Can we expect to see you here?”
         I thought of a good reason not to be there.  School would be out by that time.  I had thought of heading west again, but that could be postponed.
         “Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said.  “It might be nice to see familiar faces.”
         We hung up soon after that and I sat down to study.  But I couldn’t concentrate.  I was heading home.  The thought didn’t really bother me.  But I wasn’t actually looking forward to it either.  And the truth was that I had been home since I moved.  I sneaked into the area on two different occasions.  The first time I drove all day to get back, rode around Longview after dark, then up to Charlotte for the night.  I roamed around North Carolina for a few days taking railroad shots, then came back to Memphis.
         The next time I was touring eastern Tennessee and just happened to then point myself toward Longview.  I thought about going to Longview but Mom and Dad had mentioned they were going to be away for a few days.  Instead I went to Atlanta and popped up on Terrie.
         Communication with the guys back home had all by stopped when I started at Memphis University.  Everybody had different lives that didn’t involve the other.  Although I did imagine that Scott and Dana still saw one another all the time.
         Longview.  I was going back home after two years.

         I told Stacie over a light lunch in Disario’s outer office on the last day of school.
         “This Amanda girl?  Isn’t she the one you had the hots for at one point?” she asked.
         “Well, I may have put it more delicately than that.  There was a time when I thought I wanted us to be together.  Of course, I was much younger then.”
         “But you’re going to her wedding?”
         I shrugged.  “She invited me.  There’s no reason not to go.  We’re friends now.  And both of us are all right with that.”
         “And you’re sure about this?”
         I was getting exasperated with where this conversation was going.  “I’m positive, Stacie.  She asked me not to leave Longview all those many moons ago.  But by then I knew what I had felt for her was over.  I’m glad she invited me.  This means there won’t be any weird feelings going on in case we meet by accident somewhere in a few years.”
         “How long are you going to stay?”
         “I haven’t decided.  I guess it depends on how it goes with my friends and my parents.  I may want to go to the beach too.  It’s been a while.  Why do you ask?  Will you miss me?”  I let a weak smile come out after that.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear her answer.
         “I already do miss you,” she said.  She began flipping through a notebook which was on the desk before her.  I waited for her to continue.  But she just sat there, flipping through the pages as if she was even noticing what was on them.
         “Stacie, we can remedy that.  We can make it so that we don’t miss each other.  And you know it.  All you have to do is leave your husband.  Then you can come with me.”
         She rolled her eyes.  “This again?”
         “You make it sound like we’re having a political debate or something.  Stacie, we’re talking about your life here.”
         She put her head in her hands.  “Aren’t we always talking about my life?”
         “But it’s also my life,” I said, not realizing that I should have ended this conversation.
         “Is that it then?  Little Ray can’t get what he thinks he wants?  You don’t know when to give up, do you?  How many times do I have to tell you that I like what we have?  But I’m married, Ray.  I can’t get out of that.  It’s not going to happen.”
         “You can’t get out of it?  Or you don’t want to?”  Sometimes I don’t know when to shut up or when to fold my hand.
         “Does it matter?”
         I looked at her for a long moment.  “Apparently not.”  I turned and walked out, expecting her to follow me so we could talk this out some more.  She had done that in the past.  By the time I got to the elevator, there was no one behind me.  The doors opened and I walked on.
        I had had enough.  At that point, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to see her again.  She had her chance.  We could have been so good together.  But she was not going to allow that to happen.  Instead she was going to stay in a loveless marriage.

         The phone was ringing as I unlocked the door, trying not to drop my take out pizza.  I got to the phone on the fifth ring.
         “Hello.”
         “And here I thought you may be entertaining company.”  I smiled.  It was Terrie.
         “Apparently I’m not very entertaining lately.”  I sat on the couch and opened the pizza.  I started to take a bite, but suddenly I didn’t feel very hungry.
         “I don’t believe that for a second.  I’ve seen a few of your shots around.  B.B. King, Bono and Bill Clinton, you keep strange company.  Anyway, how are things?”
         “Not too bad,” I replied, not really believing it.  “I’m finishing up with school for the semester and am packing up for an extended trip east.  It might be a few days before I leave though.  I haven’t decided.”
         “Are you hitting Longview?”
         “Yeah, straight there, hopefully in one day, then later I’ll hit some other spots.”
         “Atlanta?”
         I smiled.  “I may be able to manage that.  Or you could meet me in Longview.  Then we could head over to the beach.”
         “Let me get back to you.  Where will you be in Longview?”
         I gave her my parent’s number, then we made small talk for a few minutes until I remembered my pizza.  We said our goodbyes, then hung up.  I thought briefly about Stacie, then flipped on the TV and put everything out of my mind for a while.

         There was a knock on my door early this morning.  I woke up on my couch with the pizza box nearby and half a case of empty beer bottles.  I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and stumbled across the room.  I threw the door open.
         Gregg Cooper.  He was taller than I expected.  He must have had one hundred pounds on me, but he held it well.  He was dressed in a pristine white shirt with black tie and black pants.  He looked like a banker without me knowing he was, in fact, a career.
         “Can I help you?”
         “I think you know who I am,” he said, as he made his way into my apartment without bothering to wait to be invited.  He looked around the place as if trying to figure out who I was.  That’s when I noticed the manila folder in his hand.  “Not bad.  You’re probably paying too much for it, on the river like it is.”  He turned around to face me.
         “Too bad I didn’t come to you before I signed on the dotted line.”
         “I probably would have suggested you keep on heading west.  Like California.”  He was looking around the place, like he expected to see someone walk out of the kitchen.  “Are you alone?”
         I wondered whom he expected to be here with me this early.  “No,” I said.  “You’re here.  But not for long, I hope.”
         “Raymond… or can I call you Ray?”
         I just glared at him.
         “Ray, we can be men about this.  No need for raised voices.  No need for threats of violence.  I think you know why I’m here.  I guess you could say we have a mutual acquaintance.”  He handed me the folder.  “Go ahead.  Open it.  You know what’s in there.”
         On the outside the words “Evans Investigations” was written with a black magic marker.  I opened the folder.  The first thing I saw was one of the nudes I took of Stacie at Curtis' studio.
         “Nice shots,” Gregg said.  “I was impressed.  I was also suspicious.  She looked very at ease in those shots, comfortable even.  It was not like her at all.  So I wondered who could have led her down this path.  She’s always been such a good, obedient wife.”  He motioned me to keep flipping through the 8X10s.  “The next shots are the best ones.  They’re the ones where you join in.  The photographer isn’t as good.  But he wasn’t being paid for the quality of his work.”
         I flipped through a few more of my shots before I came to a shot of me and Stacie at our spot at the river.  We were in the water, nude, playing and laughing.  I knew what the next shots would show, but looked anyway.  I flipped through all of them, not caring what Gregg may be thinking.  What he didn’t know was that I was looking for shots from Little Rock or Fineman’s pool.  They weren’t there.  I felt relieved for Stacie, although I wasn’t sure why.
         “What do you want?” I asked, keeping the folder to my side.
         “What do you think I want?  I want you to stay away from my wife, asshole.  She obviously has not been thinking clearly lately.  Otherwise she would not have gotten involved with the likes of you.  She’s a good Christian lady, a mother of two little boys who can barely remember their birth mother, may she rest in peace.  The last thing they need, the last thing any of us needs, is some long-haired freak come to take her away from us.”
         I laughed.  “Some long-haired freak.  That’s a good one.  But why don’t you take another look at the evidence, fat man?  She was a willing participant the whole way.  Who do you think drove to that spot?  Then again, I’m guessing your private dick already told you that.”
         “I’m not here to trade insults with you.  I’m not even here to threaten you.  But I am here to tell you that this thing you had with my wife is now over.”
         “Who says it’s your call?  Don’t you think she should decide who she wants to be with?  Or is that not in the description of a good, obedient Christian lady?”
         “Don’t you think we’ve already had it out?  Why didn’t she call you to let you know I was on my way over?  I told her where I was heading.  It’s a good thirty minute drive in morning traffic.  So why didn’t she call?  Oh, and if you think you were the first, maybe you need to think again.”
         “That’s a good one.  Say something you know isn’t true just to get me to start doubting her.  That’s pretty pathetic, man.  It probably fits you to a tee, though.”
         “But it’s true.  The last guy had to be paid off to leave her alone.  Poor Stacie.  I gave him ten thousand measly dollars and he left her cold.  How much is it going to take to get you to disappear?”
         “There’s not enough money in the world to me to leave her alone.”
         “At least we know you’re not cheap slime.  You may be slime, but you’re not cheap.  See, I knew I’d have to pay a high price.  Let’s see, Raymond James Edwards.  Everyone calls you Ray, never James and rarely Raymond.  James is your father, a pillar of the community, a family doctor for more years than anyone can remember.  He probably gave birth to half of the kids you graduated with and some of the teachers too.”
         I rolled my eyes.  “So you paid your dick to find out about me?  Big fucking deal.”
         He ignored me.  “Your mother is a hard woman to love.  She’s a real estate agent and a good one at that.  People in the little town of Longview keep wondering why she hasn’t set up her own business.  Some people say she lacks the confidence in herself, but you’d never be able to tell it from seeing her.”
         I tried to stop him, but I could tell he was enjoying hearing his own voice.
         “The offspring of the Edwards leave a lot to be desired.  Poor little Raymond thought he was going to be a big star in the NBA until a nasty little accident sidelined him.  After that, he labored at some grocery store where he couldn’t even get the promotions that he thought he deserved.
         “He apparently fucked a couple of girls here and there but none of them measured up to his first love, a girl by the name of Amanda Jerkins, whom by the way is getting married in a few weeks.  You might want to take a good hard look at that boy.”
         “Are you having fun yet?”
         “And then we get to his sister, Lydia, whom married a cop who should have been on the other side of the bars a long time before he torched the place.”
         “OK, you fat fuck.  Time for you to get the hell out of my face before they have to come pick your ass up piece by piece.”
         “Hit a nerve, did I?  Because it wasn’t too long after the fire that you moved out here to Memphis.  Maybe it’s time you go back.”
         I walked past him to the door.  I opened it and waited for him to leave.  He smirked at me as he was heading out the door.
        “You can keep those 8X10s.  I have more.  Besides, they might look good on your mantle.  And when you decide how much money you want to leave my wife alone, come by the bank.  We’ll work out a deal.”
         I slammed the door behind him.  The envelope was still in my hand.  I threw it as far as I could; it landed at the foot of my couch, the contents scattering everywhere.  Who was to say that he had confronted Stacie with this?  Certainly she would have warned me that he was on his way.
         I went to my phone to check voice mail.  Maybe I had slept through the ringing of the phone.  I had been very tired.  No messages.  I was getting mad, though I wasn’t sure who I should be directing my anger toward.
         I dialed her number.  She had never given it me before and I had not asked.  But a simple call to Information had supplied me with the number.  At least I could be sure he would not be home now.  It rang twice, then gave me the standard message for, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service…”  I dialed again.  Same response.  The number had been changed.  Maybe he had just had the phone disconnected.  I could go by the house.  It was obvious he was about to go to work.
         I changed my mind.  Chances are he was still paying the private eye to keep a watch on her.  Maybe he was paying someone to keep a watch on me too.  With school being over, there would be no need for her to be there.  I felt helpless.  I sat down on the couch, picked the pictures up and put them on the table. There was nothing I could do.  But wait.  And hope that she would get in touch with me before I left for Longview.