The Photographer

Chapter 3
Experimentation

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Chapter Description: Marcus continues to test features of the Reality Mark 2, while more of his past is revealed.

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May 2003

With the sounds of the graduation dance on the opposite side of the school echoing lightly off of the walls, Marcus sat in front of a computer in the Kerry journalism room, trying to keep his mind off of the epic disaster that his speech had been.

Had he really just made a fool of himself in front of a thousand people? Yes.

But worst of all, he felt like he had crossed a line that could never be un-crossed with Annie.

Yes, they were close friends (’were’ being the operative term, he feared), but there had always been another guy in the way of what Marcus wanted: to take their relationship to the next level.

Right now, that guy was Steve.

Ugh. Steve.

Steve was 21, hadn’t gone to college, and was currently working as a repair technician at one of the auto body garages in town. He was one of those guys who lifted weights and grunted and wore white tank tops that showed off his ’guns’.

Marcus wasn’t that big of a snob, but in his opinion, Steve was beneath his Annie.

She had already taken advanced math classes as a senior and dreamed of becoming a high school math teacher, but Marcus feared that Steve might hold her back.

“Marcus, we need to talk,” said a voice behind him. Annie’s voice.

Wow, she was stunning.

Annie, having changed out of her graduation attire for the dance, was wearing a strapless red dress that showed off her toned shoulders and nicely emphasized her C-cup breasts and her curvy figure.

Annie wasn’t one of those skinny girls, but calling her ’fat’ would be wrong, too. She struck that nice balance where her stomach was fairly flat, but lacked that six-pack, and the few extra pounds went to her breasts. Lucky.

“Yes. We do,” said Marcus. Here goes, he thought. “You left me hanging there.”

Annie sighed.

“What did you want me to do, Marcus? I have a boyfriend. You’re a good friend, but you’re just that—a friend. This can never go anywhere.”

Marcus had run through just about every scenario with Annie in his mind, and his darkest ones went...just about like this. In for a penny, in for a pound, he decided.

“Steve’s a loser. You can do a lot better than him,” said Marcus. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Annie shook her head. “That’s not you, Marcus. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. I need to be honest with you. Goodbye.”

Marcus couldn’t stomach staying for the dance, seeing her dancing with HIM. Yearbook be damned: someone else could get those ’cherished’ pictures. This photographer was done for the night.

He went home.

His parents had already settled down for the night, but his uncle Bob, who had come in for Marcus’s ceremony and was staying in the guest bedroom, was still sitting on the front porch, drinking a beer.

“I didn’t expect you back this early,” Uncle Bob said. “You didn’t want to stay for the dance?”

“No,” Marcus said simply.

“You know, I admire you,” said Uncle Bob. “What you did up there...putting your heart out there for everyone to see...that was something.”

Marcus snorted.

“Yeah, ’something’, all right,” he said sadly. “Made a fool of myself: check. Ruined my last night with my classmates: check. Wrecked my relationship with my best friend: checkmate.”

“Marcus, sometimes the world has a way of...evening things out,” Uncle Bob said, getting up from his chair. “I’m turning in. See you in the morning.”

That was the last time Marcus ever saw Uncle Bob.

September 2007

Marcus and Annie crossed paths a few times at college, but the chemistry was gone.

Conversations were generic: how are you, what have you been up to, how are your classes going? What happened on graduation night hung between them, unsaid.

After getting his degree, Marcus returned home to work at the newspaper as a part-time photographer.

Friday nights in the fall, Marcus knew he would get work: high school football was a big, big deal in town.

And, of course, his first assignment was Kerry’s season opener.

It was surreal going back there, walking the same sidelines that he did when he worked for the yearbook four years ago. The faces were different, but in a way, it was the same, like a time warp.

He couldn’t help but notice the young woman in the front row of the stands.

She was tall and slim, with dark blonde hair, with the only downside a hawkish nose. She wore a black ’Kerry Pride’ T-shirt with jeans. Cute (not Annie-cute, he subconsciously noted), but definitely easy on the eyes.

And she was really into the game: after every first down, every touchdown, every big play on defense, she would stand up and yell, shaking one of those plastic hand-clap noisemakers.

As a sports fan himself, Marcus found sporty girls extremely attractive.

After the game, Marcus dropped off his photos at the office, then went to The Wing Thing, the big local hangout, to meet some friends.

The place was packed with Kerry fans, and, sure enough, there was Fan Girl, talking and laughing with a few teachers in the corner.

Marcus pulled Jimmy McPhee, who was a few years older than Marcus and was a history teacher at the school, aside at the bar.

“Who’s that?” Marcus said, indicating casually with his head in the direction of Fan Girl’s table.

Jimmy smiled. “Oh, that’s Jenny Taylor. New guidance counselor. I’d like to give her some guidance, if you know what I mean,” he said, elbowing Marcus to make sure he got the joke.

Marcus got it.

“Come on over. I’ll introduce you,” Jimmy said.

Marcus grabbed his beer and followed Jimmy to the table.

They shook hands with a smile. Marcus was struck with the intensity and beauty of her green eyes.

“So, Miss Taylor...what brings you to our fine town of Kerry?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I grew up and went to college about an hour from here...at Tech. You know it?” Jenny said.

“Uh...yeah! Conference champs the last two years. Fruit Bowl champs this year,” Marcus said.

“Yeah! You can’t imagine how much fun it was...I went down to the bowl game for the week and everything!” Jenny said.

Marcus laughed.

“Yeah, I couldn’t imagine it. I went to State. 3-9 last year,” he said.

“Including a 45-0 loss at Tech!” she pointed out with a grin.

“Yeah...thanks for reminding me,” he said. Wow, things are going well, he thought. We’re really hitting it off.

“But yeah, I’ve wanted to be a guidance counselor in a small town like this ever since high school,” she said. “I had a great mentor there, and I’d love to give back to the kids here at Kerry.”

“An admirable goal,” Marcus said. “I grew up here, and moved back here after I graduated this spring. I work at the paper. I was actually at the game tonight taking pictures.”

Then Jimmy looked up from his basket of wings.

“You know, Jenny,” he said. “Marcus is a bit of a celebrity around here.”

“Oh?” she said.

“Yeah,” Jimmy continued. “He professed his love to his best friend at graduation. People still talk about it.”

Marcus could have killed him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Marcus chuckled, trying to play it off. “I was young, and stupid, and in love.”

“Well, that’s cute!” Jenny said, not very convincingly.

Jimmy got her number that night.

Two years later, Jimmy and Jenny were engaged.

Their announcement appeared in the paper on the same day as Steve and Annie’s.

Sunday, 12:30 p.m.

Marcus was having trouble focusing on his work, to put it mildly.

Now that his uncle’s camera had shown its stuff, so many things were racing through his mind.

Since the camera had the ability to keep the outside world from noticing anything was amiss, he realized he had ample opportunity to experiment without repercussions, with Samantha as the guinea pig.

It was time to see what that clothing menu could do.

The menu, he noted, had both ’auto’ and ’manual’ options and was currently in the ’off’ position.

He pulled out his instructions; apparently the ’auto’ options would do just that: change the clothes to fit the other transformation. ’Manual’ would allow the photographer to make piece-by-piece changes, ranging from an entire outfit to something as simple as changing the color of socks.

He changed the clothing setting to ’on’, and, with an eye on Samantha, evaluated his options, and decided to work in ’manual’.

First, he selected for her T-shirt to change from white to red, deciding to bypass the advanced options for now. ’Do you want the changes to be instant?’ the screen asked. Marcus scrolled to ’yes’.

Boom. Samantha’s T-shirt was red, and she didn’t react at all. The text had automatically changed color from black to white. Nice touch, Marcus thought.

He went back to the advanced options for ’shirt’, and chuckled as he used the scrolling wheel to manipulate the T-shirt to XXXXXXL large.

“What the hell?” Samantha said as she tripped over the giant shirt.

Marcus quickly hit ’undo’; apparently, some changes were just too obvious, even with the awareness settings.

Time to play with the ’auto’ feature, Marcus decided.

Selecting that, he went back to the main menu, and changed the ’age’ setting to ’12’.

He decided it would be fun to watch the transformation happen gradually, so he set the camera for a one-minute time-lapse, meaning that a year would come off every three seconds.

Click.

Almost immediately, Samantha’s wedding ring re-appeared.

For the first few seconds, though, little else changed: a hairstyle here or there, khaki work pants into shorts, etc. Her demeanor became less and less authoritative: she slipped out of her sensible shoes, and they morphed into sandals.

It seemed like the device was picking an outfit that was ’normal’ for what Samantha had worn in that year, rather then having her go through EVERY outfit in the blink of an eye.

Samantha’s wedding ring disappeared again at 24.

At 22, the changes really started to kick in.

Marcus watched as Samantha’s shorts morphed into a miniskirt, while her newspaper polo shirt turned into a sexy, fire-engine red halter top that showed off tanned shoulders and scooped down to accentuate firm breasts.

“Ugh. I can’t wait to get out of here so I can get waaaasted. I saw a totally hot boy at the club last Friday night!” Sammie said, to no one in particular.

Not really a surprise after meeting College Co-Ed Sammie that she used to be a party girl, Marcus mused.

Not only was Sammie changing, but so were her immediate surroundings. The photo editing program on her screen was now a browser open to Twitter. Her professional camera had been replaced by one of those small ones that girls put in their purses when they go to the club.

Three more seconds passed, and Sammie dropped to 21.

Her features were becoming more girlish: the less-sophisticated young adult was now wearing a little bit of extra makeup and eye shadow to make her look ’older’.

Not likely, thought Marcus.

Then Sammie dropped below the drinking age, back to where she had been for her ’internship’ just five minutes ago, and her ’club’ outfit became a bikini top and low-rise shorts, with cheaper-looking sandals.

“Ugh, I am sooo pale,” she said. “I need to lay out!”

At 20, she was wearing a tank top and shorts, her red hair down to the middle of her back; at 19, a ’State’ T-shirt appeared, paired with sweatpants. Apparently, it had taken Sammie a little while to embrace the college scene.

A few seconds later, Sammie left college behind.

She was wearing a high school lacrosse uniform with black shorts, and her ’freshman 15’ had melted away, with her butt taking the biggest hit in the exchange, but she was still quite a catch, straddling the line between girl and woman.

But not for long: Sammie was shedding pounds and a few inches of height along the way, becoming a rail-thin, freckled 16-year old. ’Sexy’ had been replaced by ’cute’, or ’athletic’.

“I hope I get to play for varsity this year!” she said, her voice sounding even more like a valley girl than it had at 20. Her outfit was now a team T-shirt, with a sports bra holding a deflating B-cup chest and jean shorts displaying her sudden lack of curves.

Literally half the age that she had been just 48 seconds ago, Sammie radiated youth. The computer screen now showed Facebook, with several instant message conversations going on at once.

As she rolled back towards middle school, braces appeared on her face. Next to go were the contact lenses, with glasses appearing. Her breasts were reduced to nearly nothing, while her curves were non-existent.

Her muscle tone diminished, as well, with her diligent work in the high school strength and conditioning program becoming a thing of the past (or future).

Her outfits became more and more conservative, as the line was crossed from teen to tween. Her shorts changed material into loose mesh, knee-length sports shorts, while her shirts turned into something you’d find on the discount rack at a department store.

Finally, the camera stopped its countdown.

Sammie turned around.

“Is my mom going to pick me up soon?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Marcus answered truthfully.

“I told her to come get me at lunchtime,” she stated. “She promised me that if I did this tour to get my merit badge, she would buy me a Justin Bieber poster on the way home.”

“Justin Bieber?” Marcus asked his 12-year-old former co-worker.

“Yeah...he’s soooo hot,” Sammie swooned.

Marcus suppressed a laugh. Samantha had complained to him last week about having to wade through all the tween pop fans to pick up the new Fiona Apple CD.

“His music is terrible,” she had said then. “You smile, I smile...more like I barf.”

Now she was one of them. She had completely had adjusted to her new reality, right down to adopting the tastes of a 12-year-old girl in 2012.

Marcus decided to take another gamble; why not? The camera had worked perfectly so far.

Marcus went into the ’undo’ menu, and selected ’undo some’.

There, he saw a list of boxes that were either checked or unchecked, depending on the change.

Marcus selected ’clothing age’, and saw that it said ’12’, since the clothing setting had been set to follow along with the transformation.

Marcus changed it back to ’32’, and hit the shutter.

Click.

Now Tween Sammi was wearing Samantha’s T-shirt, shorts, and sandals.

She looked like a girl playing dress-up.

“Ugh, I must have grabbed Mom’s stuff out of the laundry by mistake,” she said. “These sandals are sooo last year.”

She took the sandals off, with her bare feet dangling a bit above the floor as she played some sort of colorful online game. Again, Marcus had to hold back his laughter at the sight.

He looked at the clock. It was almost time for Samantha to cover the governor’s ribbon-cutting.

After deciding against sending a younger Samantha out into the field (for now, anyway; that party-girl outfit at the governor’s speech would have been fun), Marcus undid the transformation, telling Samantha that she had been sitting at her desk for a half-hour, without having any kind of conversation with Marcus and remembering nothing of her changes.

“Wow, I gotta go,” said a restored Samantha, looking at the clock. “See you tomorrow.”

Marcus didn’t really feel like seeing what a regressed David Smith would be like, so he finished his work and headed for home.

He had a lot of planning to do.

 

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