The Photographs of Leo
“Either you bring me pictures, or I fire you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.” My boss told me.
“You got it, boss,” I said sadly.
I left his office, grabbed my camera off my desk, and headed out for on-site photography. I didn’t know what Mr. Sheffield wanted from me. He said he wanted people in their environment, so I did that. Men and their wives argue. Children cry for their mother’s attention. They all signed a waiver. I don’t understand the big deal.
I made my way to my favorite coffee shop. It was quiet, and only a few people came in.
I took a deep breath as I entered; the smell of boiling coffee beans filled my nostrils.
“Ah, Brit! Out on the town today?” The owner asked.
“Yeah, Jim, my boss didn’t like my photos, so now I have to get new ones.”
“I liked ‘em.”
“I know,” I sighed, “Got any more ideas for me?”
He looked over my shoulder and said, “Oi, Leo, come here.”
I turned to see a large man wearing a long white shirt, suspenders strapped tightly to his chest and clipped to long brown pants. He hunched his shoulders as he walked over shyly.
“Brit, this is Leo, maybe he can help you with your project.”
I sucked in a deep breath and said, “Hi, I have to photographer something in its environment.” I rolled my eyes at the thought, “I thought I did that, but apparently my boss didn’t like it. Do you mind helping me out?”
Leo shrugged and then nodded.
“He doesn’t speak,” Jim informed me.
“Doesn’t bother me,” I shrugged. “Follow me,” I urged Leo with my hand.
I walked backward out the door, giving Leo my typical speech about my process. He bent his head like a giraffe to get through the low door frame.
“Wait!” I smiled, “Back up a bit.”
Leo followed my directions, shrinking down into the doorway.
“Now, place your hands on the doorframe, however it feels comfortable to you.”
He did as I asked, and I snapped the shot. I turned the camera so that he could see it. I watched his eyes spasm between the camera screen and the ground. I looked at Jim through the glass, furrowing my brow. Leo didn’t like having his picture taken; that was clear.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” I told Leo.
He looked at me oddly and then extended his arm for us to continue walking. I smiled lightly and led him towards a wall covered in beautiful graffiti—paintings of cultures, symbols, words, and phrases of many different origins besides German. This neighborhood was full of different ethnicities, thanks to the soldiers constantly stationed there.
“Is there a clean spot?” I asked, looking around on the ground.
Leo walked over to a semi-clean spot and squatted down. I smiled coyly, getting an idea. I took off my long grey coat and gave it to him, even though I didn’t know if it would fit him.
“Just drape it over your shoulders,” I instructed. He did as I said, so I continued, “Turn your head towards the street.” He turned his head while keeping his body facing front. I carefully climbed onto a garbage can, balancing myself to get an overhead shot of him.
I smiled as I looked at the shot as I tried to climb off, but my balance failed me and I fully expected myself to hit the ground. I shut my eyes and clutched my camera to save it from the impact, but nothing happened.
I looked up to see Leo towering over me. The heat of his arms and large hands warmed my chilled skin. He helped my feet find the ground. I brushed my hair behind my ear shyly, and he pulled his shoulders forward, a small smile spreading across his face with equal shyness.
“Um… would you want to shoot some more?” I asked.
He nodded but held up his index finger. He pulled out a leather-bound notebook, brushing past pages of beautifully intricate drawings—seahorses, bears, and sketches of furniture.
“Those are beautiful,” I mentioned quietly.
He looked up shyly with that smile. His smile made my hands shake. I watched him write letter by letter: F-O-O-D-?
“I’m always down for a food break!” I laughed.
