The Smoking Section

“Oh no Jane, thank you.” Alex smiled up at her.

“I don’t know if I've ever seen a camera like that before. Well, come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a camera at all.”

Alex’s smile widened. “Well this one belonged to my grandpa. It’s really old, probably why no one cares if I have it.”

“I wish I could see the pictures you take.”

“Well, how about if it ever isn’t illegal for me to develop them, you’ll be the first one I show?

It was Jane’s turn to smile and blush. Her golden hair was brought to life by the rays of morning light streaming through the diner window.

“Let me take your picture,” Alex blurted out, and then stammered. “I mean after all, the laws were changed because they were worried about pictures of the army and the protests. Surely they wouldn’t mind pictures of a pretty girl.”

“Oh,” her smile faltered. Her eyebrows knit together and pink lips puckered. But just seconds later her face resolved from a hint of consternation to intrigue. “I mean, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Oh it’s really simple,” Alex stood. “You just stand still right there, and” he took the coffee pot from her hand and set it on the warmer at the bar, “yeah, you can smile just like that.”

Alex picked up his camera tenderly, and began to adjust the two lenses. He flipped open the viewfinder on top of the camera and peered down into it intimately. Occasionally Alex peeked up at Jane, who was trying to hold a smile but sometimes failed and began to giggle. Alex smiled back, glancing between her face and the camera while he turned the knob on the side of the camera. Finally the image in the viewfinder seemed to be as sharp and beautiful as the girl in front of him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.” Her smile settled into a prim and sweet purse of her lips. Alex cocked the shutter and released it with a soft click. He immediately began to wind to the next frame.

“That’s it?” she exclaimed, seemingly bewildered and a little disappointed at the anticlimactic click.

“That’s it. But, we can take another, if you’d like?”

Alex almost had the camera refocused when the rusted bronze bell dangling above the door frame chimed. And, in walked Billy. Alex’s body tensed, his finger flexing, and the click of the shutter seemed to blast across the diner. Billy’s head jerked at the sound, and he saw them.

“What’s going on here?” Billy said as he approached, squaring his shoulders and drawing up to his full height.

“Don’t worry about it Billy,” Jane urged. “Just go back over to your side. If he can’t be on your side of the restaurant, then you don’t need to be over here.” She shoved him lightly back toward the entrance and past the sign hanging from the ceiling. The words Smoking Section had been crossed out with black marker and replaced with the word Others.

Alex began to pack up his equipment, all the time keeping an eye on Jane and Billy. Billy had a hold of her arm, his fingers digging into the soft supple flesh too harshly, thought Alex.

He spoke loudly – brazenly, “Come on now Jane, don’t be a prude. My parents won’t be home this weekend.”

“Well, why can’t I come tonight? I’m on the schedule for tomorrow.”

“I’ve got plans with the boys tonight.” He whined as he wrapped his arms around her. She looked uncomfortable, like she’d bolt if she could just escape him, but eventually, she relaxed and began to giggle.

“Oh alright, I’ll see if I can pull a double tonight and get off tomorrow.”

“Thank you baby,.” Billy kissed her and then whispered, though loudly enough for all to hear, “I can’t wait.” He looked at Alex as he stepped to the door, raised his finger and tapped on the notice posted in the window as he departed. Alex knew what it said:

In accordance with the Segregation Act of 2026, this establishment enforces the segregation of all individuals classified as “OTHERS”

~

Alex stood in the doorway, breathing deeply. He could hear his Grams in the kitchen washing dishes. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. The image of Billy’s grimace was all that waited for him there.

“Alex? That you?” His Grams called out. He took one last deep breath, and turned the corner into the bright homey room.

She stood over the sink, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her face brightened when she looked up at Alex’s entrance.

“I’m glad you’re home. I have something for you.” She motioned with her head to two boxes sitting on the dining table. “I found some more of grandpa’s things out in the shed. Thought there might be some more film in there for you.”

Alex froze when he saw the contents, bottles of chemicals. He gingerly placed the lid back on the box.

His Grams frowned, “Is there nothing useful?”

Alex forced his face to relax. “Oh no Grams. It’s great! Definitely some film in there that I can use.”

“Great!” and put her balled up fists on her hips, a triumphant pose. She stood there for a beat, enjoying her victory, and then turned back to the sink. “Any plans tonight?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah, Jacob and I are going to go to the movies.”

“Good good, tell Jacob I said hello. He’s a sweet boy.”

But Alex’s didn’t hear her. His mind was abuzz with the contents of the boxes.

“Grams?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever think it is okay to, well, break the rules?”

The clattering of the dishes stopped and he could see in the profile of her face as she considered his question.

“Well now, I think sometimes, you have to. You just make sure you choose which rules to break, and break them with all your heart.” She winked at him and resumed the washing.

Alex smiled, put on his satchel, stacked the two boxes, and headed up stairs.

~

Alex was smiling. He’d walked Jacob home after the movie, their hands sometimes grasping one another, small stolen embraces, when no one was looking their way. Alex had longed to kiss him at the door, but Jacob’s parents weren’t aware of the true nature of their relationship. While they weren’t bigots, the pressure to assimilate to the christian conservative party was crushing these days. If you belonged to them you had access to more resources, more jobs, and, most of all, you attracted less attention from the American Enforcers, a militarized police force that had been created the year before..

Alex looked up into the swaying bows of the ancient oaks that lined the street. Stars winked at him through the canopy. Alex wished he could take pictures of them during the day, in all their glory, but this part of town had become forbidden since the Segregation Act had passed. And so, it was only under the cloak of night that Alex would take this shortcut from Jacob’s house to his own.

The neighborhood was quiet. Sometimes Alex would catch sight of a family in their living room window. Alex remembered when they would have all been on their phones, together perhaps, but not connected. The laws that had reduced access to mobile devices had some positive side effects, as his Grams liked to remind him. Silhouettes of families could be seen through some of the windows, as they sat gathered around their coffee tables, playing board games. But more often than not, behind them was the glowing screen of a television image of the American Broadcasting Network. The headlines were too distant to read, but Alex was sure that they would read something like ‘Gender affirming care poses grave risk to youth’.

A modern two story home was coming up on Alex’s right. It stood out like a sore thumb in the largely victorian era neighborhood, and he hated to think of the home that had been torn down to make way for it. Suddenly a motion censored light illuminated the hard, and Alex ducked behind a laurel and froze. He’d thought he’d been the one to trigger the light, but he heard a car door, and peering around the bush he saw, of all people–Billy, who opening the door of his cherry red Camaro for Jane.

He was holding his breath, waiting for the couple to disappear into the house before moving on, when Alex realized–it wasn’t Jane. Billy had a dark haired girl pressed against his car. She giggled, and it seemed to be an octave higher than any sound Alex had heard Jane make.

Without thinking Alex opened his satchel, and pulled out his camera. Quietly he prepped the lenses, and leaned slowly out from behind the bush so that the image of the couple was just visible.

He hesitated. What good could it do anyway? It isn’t like I can show Jane the pictures. It’s against the rules.

But then Billy leaned his head down to kiss the girl, and Alex’s finger made the decision for him. The shutter clicked, louder than a crack of thunder.

Billy’s head swiveled at the sound, and he saw Alex crouched there. As quick as lightning Alex sprung up from his hiding spot and ran down the center of the street, camera gripped tightly in his hand. The sound of his feet slapping against the pavement could barely be heard over the pounding of his heart, and just before he rounded the corner out of the neighborhood he heard Billy’s shout.

“You better run! I’m calling the cops.”

~

Alex burst through the door of his home, as if the police were already on his doorstep. In the living room on his left his Grams snored softly in her floral upholstered recliner, seemingly undisturbed by Alex’s voice roaring in his head. What were you thinking? You’re done for now! They are going to arrest me.

He looked down at the camera, still caught in the death grip of his hand. The same hand that had held Jacob’s hand.

Carefully he climbed up to his room, avoiding the squeaky stair. He pulled the closet door closed behind him and for a moment the darkness felt like a warm safe blanket. But when he yanked the silver beaded chain that dangled from the ceiling, the harsh fluorescent light that flooded the space seemed to strip him of all hope. He eyed the sagging boxes in the corner, and anchored himself once again in resolve.

From the first he removed a developing tank, a reel, and three bottles labeled Developer, Stop Bath, and Fixer. He stared wide-eyed at the items set before him on his closet shelf, licking his lips, and feeling as if he stood on a precipice that at any moment might give way. It didn’t matter, he reminded himself. He was already screwed. He reached up again and pulled the chain. This time the darkness felt condemning.

Alex moved quickly and methodically, unlatching the back of his camera. Turning the winding knob a few times to make sure the film was completely advanced, he removed it and unrolled the backing paper. His hands deftly found the reel, loaded into it the film, and placed it inside the developing tank.

At some point, whether imaged or real, he heard a car outside. Alex cocked his head and listened intently for several minutes. Though he couldn’t tell how long he waited, at some point he was satisfied, or maybe he had passed the point of caring. Alex reached up and turned the light back on - Moving even more quickly now that he was free of the darkness.

The developer was the first step. He tilted the box from side to side, gently agitating it like his grandfather’s Kodak Master Photoguide had outlined. 12 minutes later he drained the developer and replaced it with the stop bath.

Alex counted; 1 mississippi, 2 mississippi... His voice decreased from a whisper to nothing until Alex mouthed the words 30 Mississippi. He drained the container again and poured in the fixer. The next ten minutes were filled with pacing the four feet of the closet, but once the process was complete Alex held the strip of images in awe.

The first images were of his home, his grams standing at the kitchen counter rolling out pie crust. Many of the first ones were blurry. He’d still been learning, but by the time he came to the picture of Jane her beauty was sharp and beautiful, even in the small frame.

He pinned up the strip of film, forced to risk contamination in the space. With any luck the picture he needed of Billy would still be legible. But he would have to wait for them to dry, and that would take two hours.

Alex closed his closet and laid fully clothed on top of his still made bed. His alarm clock flashed a green 2:42 AM. He set the alarm for 4:30 AM, and before he had finished praying he’d have enough time, he’d fallen asleep.

Though Alex resisted it, when the alarm sounded, it was insistent. Once his eyes were open, he wasted no time and dashed into the closet. He fished out a red bulb from a box and replaced the regular bulb. Upon the pulling of the chain he was bathed in a red glow. Pulling the roll from the clips, he first cut the incriminating image of Billy, and hesitated for a mere moment before also cutting the ones of Jane.

Alex pulled out the enlarger from the biggest box, and inserted the frame of Billy into the negative carrier. He flipped on the light, and the red hue of the space was temporarily whitened. Alex lowered the head and adjusted the lense until the original image was enlarged six times over. Switching off the light, he removed the photo paper from a sealed black bag and placed it onto the easel. Ever so carefully he adjusted the guides, and lined up the paper with the image. He recalled that he should run a test strip, but when Alex looked back at his closed closet door the morning light crawling under the crack urged him to cut corners and move as quickly as possible. He set the time for 8 seconds, and when the light flashed on, watched the image bloom to life.

~

Marietta was startled by a sharp knock at her door, but by the second knock she was awake and moving with urgency.

When she opened the door there were two police men, their gleaming silver badges emblazoned with the words American Enforcers.

“Excuse us, ma’am,” the first said. He looked ex-military with a crew cut faded close to the scalp. “We are looking for Alex Reed?”

“May I ask why?” She asked hesitantly.

“He’s been accused of violating Executive Order 972 restricting the production of unlawful images.”

Marietta was hit with a wave of guilt. She pictured the boxes on the dining table, and the contents her late husband Steve had left behind in them. She’d debated it, giving them to Alex, but in the end the wrongness of the laws had outweighed her desire to abide by them.

Before she could answer she felt Alex’s hand on her shoulder. No, she thought. She’d hoped maybe he’d stayed at Jacob’s house. When she turned to see her grandson he looked tired, but decided.

“It’s alright Grams.” He cooed.

“Alex Reed?” the second officer, a short rotund man, asked as he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “You are hereby detained under Executive Authority. For the protection of national integrity, certain rights have been temporarily suspended and you do not have the right to counsel or judicial review. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Alex croaked.

Marietta watched her grandson be taken away.

~

Jane’s feet hurt from the double shift the night before.

She slipped into her robe and slippers, and made her way to the kitchen. A fresh cup of coffee in hand, she stepped onto her porch, the spring morning was cool and the grass sparkled with dew.

On the sidewalk in front of her house, just past the mailbox, she spied Mrs. Reed out for a walk. But the woman didn’t look to see her.

Jane retrieved the mail. Amongst the stack were the usual suspects–bills and advertisements. But there was also a large brown envelope. Turning it over, she saw familiar handwriting.

I’m sorry - with all my heart.

Her heart skipped.

The rest of the mail fell down to the sidewalk. In Jane’s hand was a photograph–of Billy and their friend Sarah. Sarah leaning back against Billy’s car as he kissed her.

Jane shook her head, as if doing so could shake the image out of her mind. It was then that she noticed more pages, and though she feared what she’d see, she flipped to the next image. It was her side profile looking back at the door in the diner, and even though it was blurry, she could make out the stress lines between her eyebrows as the Jane in the image looked back at Billy entering the diner.

“Alex,” she murmured in realization as she flipped to the final photo.

Again, it was Jane, but this image was sharp and clear. Even though the photo was only made up of blacks and whites, the innumerable shades were rich and complex. Her eyes shone with delight and her smile was genuine, as she watched her friend take her picture.