VIII.

His worries slowly diminished in the following days. People had finally noticed the add in the newspapers. A local woman was marrying and the couple came to take pre-wedding photos at Stuart's studio. Regina was happy when they choose Goerz camera instead of Stuart's daguerreotype. The photos turned out great and the bride was delighted that she had more than one copy to hand out to cousins and friends. Another day a married couple came to take portraits with a Calotype. Regina encouraged Stuart to handle equipment she brought so that he could get used to other cameras besides his favourite. Business was growing. Regina refused to take her part of the money they earned. She was more willing to give Stuart some of her own savings, but the thought of taking money from a young woman was absolutely repulsive to him. However, when she noticed how miserable the food he ate was, nothing he said could dissuade her from bringing groceries to his place. She was also a great cook.

Albeit all the work brought Stuart a decent amount of money, he missed the fulfilment he felt when the subjects he was photographing were deceased. He rejoiced when a customer from south came with a request to photograph his deceased cousin. Him and his family were on their way to one of northern villages where his cousin was from. They stopped in Durfenmil because they heard of Stuart's studio and his speciality. As they agreed to, Regina convinced the customer that it would be best to take a photo with each of their cameras. She was ready to do it for free, but the man had no problem with paying for all of it.

The deceased woman was too young. She was pretty, with pale face and nicely tied brown hair. She had a little black hat on her head and was dressed in a beautifully hand made dress with lace. Stuart turned the hourglass while the daguerreotype camera was taking the photo. Regina then took numerous photos with Kodak. She walked around the room photographing from different corners. Stuart kept for himself the opinion that it took the grace of the photographing and the photographer away. She took a photo with a calotype and the two cameras with air balls.

"We'll have a lot of developing to do", she commented, but the customers said they won't come back until the end of the week. "This shall be a practice for you", Regina said when they were left alone. "You do the developing process." She had shown him how to work on image development for each camera, but he hadn't had an opportunity to try out his new skills. As soon as she left the studio, he got to work. Since he had money to buy gas, nothing stopped him from working during the night. Besides, nighttime brought him little sleep lately. He had nightmares about the war. It was as if he never left the camp. He saw the men doctors uselessly tried to cure, the men which died while he was standing beside them and crying because of the loss their families will have to face with. The fear of dying would absorb him and he'd wake up sweaty and nervous. At other times he dreamt those same dead men, but not in the place he saw them when they died, but in the daguerreotypes. They'd sit in his studio, in the exact way any other deceased person brought to his workplace was positioned, and stared at him. But when the photo was taken and the lens covered, the dead man on the sofa would turn his head and speak up. "Stuart", each of them said. "Where are you, Stuart?" Then Stuart would take a look at the developed daguerreotype which appeared in his hand. The man on the photo would look like he's screaming, crying or praying, but he was never in a position he was in while the sand in the hourglass was falling down. He chose the lack of sleep ver struggle with bad memories and fears of the past.

First he took the film out of the Kodak and placed the two small photos taken in less than ten seconds aside without taking as much as a peek. He went on to cover the paper he took out of the calotype camera with chemicals which enabled the picture to show itself and put another paper over it in order to get two copies. He left them near the window so that the morning light might reveal the true nature of papers which seemed blank at the moment. After daguerreotype, while he was dealing with the two photos which needed to be printed using tools Regina left him, his eyelids became heavy. His body resisted his will to spend the night awake and succumbed to its mortal needs. With his hands still on the unfinished photographs, he closed his eyes.

In the blackness of nothingness a picture appeared.

His brother's face stared at him. Bonfire was visible behind him. Oliver was young and thin, worn out by the battlefield. Their unit was just called to the front. Stuart followed his brother. Before they arrived at the gathering place, Oliver turned towards his brother. "Stay behind me", his voice vibrated with fear, but his tone was commanding. It was the first time they've been invited into the real battle. Oliver was scared for his own and the life of his younger brother. "If you are in danger, run. Escape if you can. Even if we're both on target... Save yourself." Stuart didn't answer.

He opened his eyes. His mouth were opened and lips dry. Did he fall asleep standing? Luckily, he wasn't unconscious long enough to mess up the photos. The kerosene lamp had went out while he was in a disrupted state, so he struggled to find his way upstairs in the complete darkness. He fell on the bed as soon as he entered the bedroom.

The picture reappeared before his eyes were fully closed. Oliver was kneeling before him, dressed in Highlander's military uniform; kaki coloured jacket with many belts and pockets with reserve bullets, helmet and a plaid kilt. Rifle was set on his shoulder. In a frenzy, Stuart realized he was dressed in the same clothes and carried the same weapon.

"Fire, now!", the commander yelled, but the instructions weren t meant for Stuart nor his brother, but for those in the first rows. Soldiers shot, screamed and cursed. Stuart heard horrible sounds of gunfire, but was too far behind to see the action. Oliver turned and nodded, timid smile of his face. He turned every few seconds just to assure himself his little brother was alright and confirm to Stuart that he was well, too, although Stuart's mind was so empty he didn't even take into consideration that Oliver might be hurt. Paused in the eternal waiting, Stuart raised his face towards the clear sky. Stars shone. It was the third day of the new year.

"We'll survive this Hell, Stu", Oliver talked while they retreated. Stuart remained silent. "We'll be home at no time, we only have to be careful..." As if he forgot that Stuart volunteered. It was his fault the two of them were so far from home. Stuart gambled their lives. Nevertheless, he felt no regret. "You'll see, Stuart. Just stay close to me."

But when Stuart looked at his brother, he didn't see a face of a young Highlander, but an old visage full of wrinkles, with blurred eyes filled with sadness. Oliver in his last days.

The photographer woke up with a start and a screech stuck in his throat. Church bells sounded outside, it was six o'clock in the morning. Stuart rubbed his eyes. "Damn nightmares... I thought I forgot everything about that day, our first war experience... Oliver..." He stopped himself. Continuing would only lead to the refreshment of more memories. "It's self-destruction, it is. Should ask a doctor to give me some sedatives..."

He went to the dark room to collect the photos he left there and picked up the calotype left on the window. Regina wasn't coming in another three hours, so he had time to check his doing alone beforehand. First he looked at the daguerreotype. A nice example of an experienced handwork. He managed to capture young woman's beauty. He was sad because he couldn't keep the photo, but maybe she was just as beautiful on one of the Kodak or calotype photos. He laughed at this hopeless thought. He didn't really believe any camera could take as artistic a photo as daguerreotype.

"This isn't right." On the first calotype copy he looked at, woman's head was turned to the left. He remembered Regina moving around the room with different cameras, but corpse was in the same position as when she photographed with a calotype. He took the other copy. "No!" It fell on the floor from his hand. He was too scared to pick it up. On it, woman's head was directed towards the camera. Her lips were parted as if she was about to pronounce a silent word. The calotype copies were supposed to be identical. Leaving the fallen calotype on the floor, he took the prints from Goerz and Flammang's camera. Woman's head was slightly tilted on the one side on both of them, but, unlike in the Goerz copy, in the photo taken by Flammang's camera her arm was lifted from her lap. "I must be insane!" Stuart reached for the calotype. He stared at all photos for a while, blinking and rubbing his eyes. Nothing changed. Every photo was different.

The deceased woman moved while the photos were being taken.

"Impossible", he whispered to himself. "It took us only a few minutes... And we were all there, we would've seen if something had happened..." His first impulse was to quickly get rid of the odd photos, but he could't force himself to throw them into the fire. What if it was an illusion, or if he had made the whole thing up? "Maybe I need more than sedatives..."

One thing was immediately clear to him; he mustn't show them to Regina or anyone else. The daguerreotype turned out alright, therefore he shall give it to the customers, but he'd rather return them the money than give them the rest of the photos. It might have been in his head, but on the other side it might have been...

Stuart put unbecoming photos in an envelope and sealed it the best he could. He stored it in a commode in his room, the only one in his house which had a locker. He then put the small key in a drawer bellow the desk in the dark room where he was sure nobody would find it. Calmed by the conviction that he had removed the problem, Stuart went outside and smoked his last cigar in the cold morning air.