An excerpt from my novel, ‘Ida’s Children’.
LEN’S CAMERA
One night he came out, full as a boot and holding up a cardboard box as if it was a priceless antique.
‘I won! I won!’ he kept saying as he came over.
He’d won a raffle and had a choice between a camera and a side of beef, so he chose the camera.
‘We could’ve eaten the beef,’ I said, as I pushed his bike along the footpath.
‘Ida!’ he said, pumping out his chest. ‘Don’t say that when I’ve just won us a time machine.’
The next day, he took the camera out of its box and held it up for me to see. It was smaller than I expected, not much different to the ones you see today—black, with the round lens jutting out the front, and Leica written on the side.
When I saw the knobs and lever at the top, I said, ‘Are you sure you know how to work it?’
‘’Course I know.’
He opened up the back and hooked up the reel of film, then took me outside to the fence by the veggie garden and told me to pose and smile. I felt as if I was the Queen of England as he fiddled and clicked, but then I grew bored and tired of smiling into the sun, so I started mucking around, pulling silly faces and pouting with my hands on my hips, not trusting the camera would even work.
‘Sit still,’ he said.
When he’d finished, he handed it to me to take a photo of him but I didn’t dare. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t know which bit’s which and I might break it.’
So he asked Doreen to take a photo of us out in the street under the power pole.
The film took a couple of weeks to develop, and cost most of Len’s pay. He had to decide between going to the pub or collecting the photos, and he chose the photos. He stopped going to the pub after that.
When he came home with the yellow Kodak envelope, I could hardly wait for him to open it.
He pulled out his packet of Drum and started rolling a cigarette.
‘Hurry up. Hurry up,’ I said, standing behind him.
‘Hold your horses.’ He lit his smoke then shook out his hanky and wiped his hands, including between each finger, before he slid the photos from the envelope. There, on the top of the pile, was me in my pastel dress with the white collar, sitting on the fence and smiling wanly, as if I was afraid of the camera.
I laughed out loud and so did Len.
He slipped them out one-by-one and I gazed at us caught in the moment. We nearly split our sides at the photo of me, hand on my hat, tilting my head like a movie star and pouting at the camera.
We marvelled at how it worked, how the light captured the moment somehow and there it was on the glossy card in front of us, never to be forgotten.
‘Don’t bother explaining it,’ I told Len when he started. ‘I’ll never understand.’
I reached for the photo of Len and me by the power pole—Len in his dark trousers and white shirt and me in my checked dress, taller than him but trying to hide it—but Len tapped my hand away.
‘Don’t touch ’em with your dirty fingers.’
I turned back to the sink, humming and smiling as I finished the wiping up, while Len rolled a smoke and looked at the photos all over again.
Really nice piece of writing. Loved the photos too.
Thanks, Iris. As inspiration, photos work really well for me, especially old ones.
Wonderful Louise…I could feel the joy of the first opening of the Kodak packet! My grandfather was an avid photographer in his day, with his Box Brownie and probably a Leica too! Loved seeing the photos.
The photos were probably taken with a Box Brownie, too. I chose Leica because I thought it looked posher and sounded like something they’d never have been able to afford.
It was a great read and Leica worked in well. I was there!
Good! I’m glad it works. By the way, there are more family photos here.
Nice going. I, too, have been thinking about inserting photos in my memoir. I have plenty and I think they add realism. Reads well and am waiting for the next installment.
Do it, Betty. Photos add so much richness to memoir, and you are a memoir champ! I’m waiting for an app so that when I click on an icon in the text, an image or a sound or music or whatever the author wants, can play while you read. Obviously not for books, but with digital media it’s possible. Imagine that while reading your kindle!
Louise, I resolved that I would give a literary critic to your writing. Saying it’s wonderful, though ego boosting, is not helpful in growing as a writer. But I am so drawn to your writing and the wonderful way you have weaved the prose in with the photos, all I can say is… It’s a wonderful piece of writing. It flows: the dialogue reveals the characters and it elicits emotion. I identified with Ida’s frustration and wonder.
It takes a lot of work and love to get a piece to this level. Keep going!
Thanks for all that, Penny. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wasn’t sure whether to post this scene, as there are better scenes I could have posted, but I wanted to show how I found inspiration from photos for the novel. Besides, I love old photos!
I really enjoyed this piece of your story. You drew me in as you developed the characters.
Thanks, Lily, and thanks for stopping by. I look forward to reading more of your story as you tell it, too.