Snapshot
an excerpt

The sounds of laughter filtered through the cool fall air. It was nearing dusk and Duncan DeWitt, armed with his ever faithful camera and his press badge, maneuvered rather gracelessly through the throng of people, mostly families, and tried his best to avoid stepping on any wayward children.
He smiled at those who smiled at him, and offered a nod here and there. He was still upset at having been sent to cover this simple Halloween fest instead of something else. Back at the office he’d sensed there was something bigger happening, but unfortunately for Duncan, before he could get a whiff of what could perhaps be a prime time story, his boss shipped him off here. Here just happened to be the small community center of Gipsum Falls. The annual Halloween Hullabaloo was hosted by the local businesses, churches, and both the elementary and high schools in the town.
Duncan had not grown up in Gipsum Falls, and it was painfully apparent to anyone who had. If you grew up in Gipsum Falls, you never found yourself bored by a town that had little to offer besides the local DQ and a video rental store. The locals could tell that Duncan was an outsider, but Duncan had never once bothered to try and fit in.
“Glad to see you here tonight, Mr. DeWitt.”
Duncan had finally found the man he was looking for, the man who had just spoken to him. He was a Mr. Thurston Hughes, and he was the towns’ mayor.
“Thank you, sir,” Duncan muttered politely.
“It’s a fine night, isn’t it?” Hughes noted, arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Yes, uh—“ Duncan started, fidgeting as he ran his fingertips over the left corner of his camera, a habit he had never been able to shake since he had first picked up the thing back in ’95. “I just wanted to ask you, is there anything in particular you want to make sure I get?”
Hughes’ brow furrowed in thought, and his eyes seemed to stare just past Duncan. Then he gave a mild mannered shrug and shook his head.“Y’know, it seems to me that every time I see what pictures you get put in the paper, they all look fine to me. I’m sure you’ll get what you need to get.”
“Okay, great,” Duncan said, already glancing at his watch. Times’ a wastin’. “Then I’ll just go ahead and…” He let himself trail off, already backing away from the mayor and removing the lens cap from his camera.
“You do that, Mr. DeWitt. I look forward to seein’ what you get.”
Turning back, preparing to fight his way through the sea of people, Duncan lifted the camera. Even when he had first picked it up, unsure of what exactly to do with it, but curious just the same, Duncan found he had a knack for snapping a good picture. Be it portraits, candids, or nature shots, whatever Duncan DeWitt walked away with was a good picture. Still, he had failed to make it beyond the world of photography for local events, papers, newsletters and such. He had sold a few freelance shots, but he found that it paid him better to have a steadier job. Sure, more well known photographers could make a decent living by selling their work shot by shot, but Duncan was not one of those photographers. Although he had good work, it was still anyone’s guess as to whether or not he’d be able to sell it. And so it was that he found himself working for the Gipsum Gazette.
Working my way up, he thought. What a joke.
He made his way over to the booth marked ‘Bobbing for Apples’ and crouched down a few feet away from the barrel closest to him. The ground was wet from water having been displaced by floundering children, each one trying their darndest to dunk in empty handed (empty mouthed) but to come out the opposite. He only noticed this because the water seeped up over his shoes, and he was vaguely aware that the cuffs of his pants were getting dirty.
He sat there, perched, camera poised and ready in front of his face. He watched, waiting for the perfect shot. Five kids had taken their turn before he saw her. She was dressed as Belle from the ever popular Beauty and the Beast, but not the usual yellow ball gown. No, this girl was dressed as Belle early in the movie, before her arrival at the Beast’s castle, when she still looked like a simple girl. Her hair was tied back with a blue bow, and it fell in thin brunette locks past her shoulders.
She stepped up to the barrel, and onto the brick being used as sort of a step stool. She peered over the edge of the barrel and down at the apples that appropriately bobbed on the waters surface. Then she turned back and looked at her parents, as if waiting for permission.
“Go oh, honey,” they cooed.
She took a deep breath, having sized up the situation, and then promptly ducked her head in. Duncan snapped a shot of her, mid dunk. Her eyes were closed, her expression determined, her lips pursed. He smiled. She was under for what seemed like an eternity to him, and he began to feel concerned, but finally she surfaced. No apple.
She shook her head, sending droplets of water out in every direction, and wiped off her face. Then she stepped down from the brick, and walked passed the waiting volunteer, who had been holding out some candy for her to take.
“Honey, don’t forget your candy,” her mother said gently.
But the little Belle shook her head. “No Mommy,” she said matter of factly, straightening her dress. “I didn’t do right. I didn’t get the apple.”
“It’s just for fun, baby. You can get the candy anyway.”
“But I don’t wanna. I didn’t do right.”
Duncan lowered his camera again, intruiged by the interchange. The mother reached out and took the candy from the volunteer, slipping it in her daughter’s candy basket as they two headed towards the next booth.
How odd, Duncan thought. He wasn’t sure exactly why he found it so interesting, but he did. But the show must go on. He had more pictures to take, and here he was, wasting time by musing over the little girl refusing to take her candy because she didn’t get an apple. He shook his head at himself, then stood, dusting off the knees of his pants even though they weren’t dirty.
He found a great many pictures to be taken. There was a little boy dressed as Luke Skywalker playing a sort of pin the tail on the donkey. Only instead of a donkey it was a witch, and instead of missing a tail she was missing her hat. Duncan had liked the way the little boy’s tongue stuck out as he, blindfold covering his eyes, struggled to determine the right place for the hat to go. He had thought wrong, though, and planted the hat firmly on the witch’s behind, and it was the facial expression that happened upon his discovering this (a sort of mild disappointment mostly masked by childish humor) that Duncan felt had needed to be captured.
This was only one of the few people that Duncan photographed as he meandered from activity to activity. He spent a lot of time at the petting zoo, and even fed a few of the goats. He made sure to take photos of anyone who specifically asked, having never been one to turn people down. He’d more than covered his bases when it came to giving the newspaper a hearty selection of photos to pick from for the article they’d publish the following week.
All in all it was a good days work, and even though Duncan would have rather been at a front-page style event, he figured that none of the other photographers working that night would get as much free candy as he had.
As he was savoring another fun-sized Hershey’s bar, Duncan imagined that he could actually feel the calories settling on his belly. It wasn’t that he was a calorie counter, per say…His girlfriend, however, was constantly reminding him that he was not the same man he had been when they had begun dating. And by that she of course meant that he was not the same pant size.
The hell with it, Duncan thought, rebelliously unwrapping another Almond Joy. Tastes good. And besides, I’m the one behind the camera. Doesn’t matter what I look like.
He leaned against one of the many light posts that lined the field that the Hullabaloo was held on and indulged himself in another treat that his girlfriend wasn’t fond of; a cigarette. He crossed one foot over the other, again letting his fingertips play with the left corner of his camera as it hung in its’ usual resting place on his chest. Usually the neck strap made him hot, or at least a little hotter, but the night was pleasant and Duncan was content. Sure, maybe he got sent off to photograph a bunch of kids dressed up cute. Sure, maybe the Gazette could have spared their own payroll by putting an ad in the paper asking parents to send in their own pictures of their little darlings. And sure, maybe the Halloween Hullabaloo wasn’t front-page news. But Duncan was getting paid. And when it came down to it, Duncan figured that probably counted a lot more at the moment.
It’s hard for anyone to do a good job at their workplace when they had been evicted from their apartment. And Duncan was facing that same situation currently. The money he’d get from these pictures should put him safely within range of paying his monthly rent. Maybe he’d even be able to get Cecelia some flowers. She’d like that, probably. And maybe if he got her flowers she’d overlook the smell of smoke that was most certainly going to be on his breath, his hair, and his clothes by the time he got home. Either way, it was worth a shot.