Pictures of You by Caroline Leavitt

Author:Caroline Leavitt [Leavitt, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Fiction, General, Domestic Fiction, Family Life, Psychological Fiction, Psychological, Women, Life Change Events
ISBN: 9781565126312
Google: KClUsdqTPL8C
Amazon: B004Y6MXK6
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2010-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

It was blustery and cold, and Charlie stood outside the school, looking for Sam, thinking he might surprise him. Like April, he thought, then brushed the thought away. The kids spilled out, shouting and jumping around, their winter coats flung open, their heads without hats. They ran to their parents’ waiting cars or headed for the park. He scanned the crowd for Sam, but he knew he had time because Sam always came out last, and he was almost always alone.

“Hey, Dad!” Charlie looked to the sound, and to his surprise, there was Sam, and miracle of miracles, he was grinning. The sturdy little used Canon was slung around his neck, and when he saw Charlie, he lifted the camera and took Charlie’s photo. “F-eight and be there!” Sam said. “That’s photographer talk about the f-stop, Daddy!”

Charlie hugged Sam to him, leading him to the car. “I got sixty chips because my homework was so good,” Sam told him. “I used half for free time while everyone else had to practice their cursive.”

“That calls for extra dessert tonight.”

“Cool.”

Charlie was glad he had bought Sam the camera, which seemed to focus him. Sam seemed happier. His homework was now done on time. So he didn’t have a lot of play dates. Who did, when you thought about it?

“I was wondering,” Charlie said, “if you’d like to take a photography class.”

“Maybe,” Sam said.

As soon as they got home, Sam ran to get his collection of photographs. He sat in the center of the living room, his legs splayed out, his whole body hunched over. Sam was so intent, he didn’t even see Charlie, not until his dad stooped to get a better look, and then he started.

“Did I surprise you?” Charlie asked, and then he moved to the other side of Sam where he could get a better look, and he felt himself reeling. Sam had taken pictures of cars moving away, of empty, winding roads. Just like the ones that April had been killed on. Every shot looked like the newspaper accident scene. All that was missing was a white chalk line for the body. Charlie felt like crying.

“Why do you keep taking pictures like that?” he asked quietly.

Sam stared at him, not moving. Charlie bent down, and that was when he saw the photo Sam was trying to hide under one of his legs. That was when he saw Isabelle’s face. Her coat flying out behind her, her features in shadows.

Charlie pulled the photo free.

“That’s mine!” Sam cried, grabbing for it.

“What’s this?” Charlie said sharply, holding it away from Sam.

“I took it.” Charlie noticed how Sam’s eyes began to fill with light. “It’s mine.”

“When?”

Sam hesitated. “Last week. I saw Isabelle in the park.”

Charlie stared at the photo. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing.

Sam stood up, shifting his weight from one untied sneaker to the other. “Don’t you like them? Don’t you think I’m good at this? I can do this. I can do this really well.

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