The Photo

There is life before the photo, and there is life after the photo.

We follow one Tobias Sinclair, an average thirty-something year old man from midtown Toronto. He lived in a condominium with two dying plants and the neglected hamster he only purchased so his six year old niece would have a reason to visit.

Before the photo, he was content. He enjoyed his routine. He woke up before the sun each day, chugged a protein shake and took the train to the school. He was an elementary school teacher, and had been for the past decade. He enjoyed interacting with children; they helped him forget his troubles. He liked teaching them how to read, write and speak. It was more than satisfying to watch them finally understand how to multiply after days of trying and to see how their eyes lit up at their ability to make a paper mâché volcano erupt right before their eyes.  

Some days after school, he went to meetings in the local church basement. Other days, he went straight home the same way he came, and watched TV with his dinner before drifting off and waking up in the middle of the night to move to his bed. He was content. 

He had first heard about the photo while watching the six o’clock news on an unassuming weekday. He hadn’t been a fan of the news lately, as increasing crime reports would tend to ruin the mood. But while flipping through television channels that night, talk of his hometown on international news caught his attention. 

The photo resided in the Royal Ontario Museum, in a paid exhibit. No one knew where it came from or how it got there. It appeared suddenly, like magic, in said museum, hidden in an envelope on the floor in the main stairwell. Stunned by the level of emotion it evoked in the passersby who viewed it, the staff saw no other option than to put it on display. 

Word of the photo got around quickly, and soon, folks from around the world flew in on the daily to see it. Lines into the exhibition poured out the front doors of the museum and wrapped around nearby buildings. Overcrowding caused a large portion of the city surrounding the museum to be shut down, as people lined up for days just to catch a glimpse. 

No one knew what the photo was of until they saw it for themselves. Then, why was it so popular, you might ask. Well, see, there is one crucial detail about this photo, and why it truly was so significant. 

All that was said about the photo could only be described by the reactions of those who had seen it. And every single viewer of this photo was changed for the worse. Some became terribly depressed after viewing; some anxious, some enraged, some a mix of all three, and some felt other unfavourable emotions entirely. 

The only reason no one knew what the photo looked like was because nary a single soul could bring themselves to describe it. It was a truth that everyone knew, and still many were curious to see it for themselves. 

Thoughts of the photo messed with the routine that made Tobias content. Day-by-day, he noticed more of his fellow staff members becoming uneasy. Teachers that would show up daily with the brightest of smiles came to school with misery in their eyes. While most of the children were confused as to why their teachers weren’t as attentive as usual, the older kids were able to put two-and-two together. 

Tobias was told that one of his colleagues brought half of his second graders to tears in a yelling fit before getting fired on the spot. He was also asked to watch a class for a teacher who never returned to the school since viewing the photo the weekend prior.

He wondered how an indescribable photo could have the power to change a person's entire psyche. He couldn’t possibly imagine that happening to him. He bet if he saw it, he’d be unaffected. Maybe everyone else was just too weak to stomach what they’d seen. A similar notion was shared among the other people who joined the line with him. 

He stood at the end of the days-long line contemplating whether this was a worthwhile endeavor, but he needed to know. He just needed to. Curiosity: an innate human quality that had plagued Tobias Sinclair and the rest of the world.

All that time spent waiting gave Tobias some time to think. He wondered if he’d be in line if not for all the attention the photo had garnered. Was he just another sheep in a herd? With the illusion of choice, but no mind of his own? Even so, he continued to move up the line just like everyone else ahead of and behind him with doubting thoughts and wandering minds. 

Contrary to what you might have understood, not everyone wanted to view the photo. Some stood on the other side of the queue barriers holding signs, while marching and chanting.

“Tear it up, it’s corrupt!” echoed repeatedly throughout the streets, layered over other chants from a block away. “Take it down! Take it down!”

“Shut up, NVs!” was heard from somewhere in the line, followed by laughter. 

Non-Viewers. People who protested against viewing the photo. Based on the reactions of those who had viewed it, they made the decision not to and tried to encourage others to abstain as well. 

They also drew connections that many hadn't thought to consider. As the rate of people viewing the photo increased over the last few weeks, so had crime rates. Not to mention, depression and suicide rates, all of which was happening internationally. Some thought it to be a coincidence, considering no studies had been done to prove how it’s correlation, but NVs knew otherwise. 

“The photo’s gotta go! The photo’s gotta go!”

“My eyes, my choice!” yelled another heckler from the line.

Every hour or so, the chants from the protesters encouraged a person or two to leave the line. Even though Tobias had considered doing the same several times, he would have been an idiot to turn back now. He was finally inside the building, right at the entrance of the exhibit. 

During his final moments before laying his eyes on the photo, he thought about what life would be like afterwards. Would he change in the same ways the others had? Could he possibly be the exception? But mostly, he wondered if his kids would see him any different. He hoped he’d be able to teach them and care for them just the same. To disappoint them was to fail. 

At last, it was Tobias’ turn. 

He was led into a small dark room the size of a foyer and was left alone. The room had a single desk with a spotlight hanging overhead emitting red light. From the door, he could see a small white card atop the desk. He stepped towards it to see the 4x6 up close. It was blank. 

He stared at it, puzzled. Surely, all this fuss couldn’t be about a blank photo card. Assuming the image was on the other side, he picked it up to flip it, but the second his fingers touched the surface, the photo began to develop. He dropped it in shock as the colours and shapes began to form. As it developed, he could make out two figures standing along a wall, and one of the figures looked like him. Confused, he picked it back up again and was aghast at the sight of the finished photo. 

Against a brick school wall, stood Tobias in a polo and dress pants with his arm around a young man wearing a cap and gown. They were both smiling, Tobias even more so, and he appeared more than content. Happy, even.  

It only took him a second to recognize the young man. All of the memories and feelings he tried to bury over the course of about a decade came rushing back in an instant. 

Through blurry, bloodshot eyes, he saw his six year old being pried from his grip. He stood before the bench trying prove he was fit to take care of the boy, but his slurred words convinced the judge otherwise. As he was escorted out of the courtroom, he caught a glimpse of his son crying in the lap of his social worker. 

That was the last time he ever saw him. 

His biggest regret; captured in one still. The worst thing about the photo was how real it felt. The fact that he could feel the pride and joy emanating from the image made the knowledge that it was not real all the more heartbreaking. 

He should have fought harder, should have gotten better quicker. Even after he was better, he should have tried to make things right. He longed for this photo to come to pass, but instead it left him hating the life that once made him content. The photo spoke to him in a way that reminded him of what he broke and that it's too late to fix it.

Where to go from here? With the troubles from his past at the forefront of his mind, he took the long way home that night, walking along the route of the liquor store he used to visit. But just as he was approaching the store, one of his first-graders passed him by, holding her parent by the hand. 

“Hi, Mr. Sinclair,” she gleamed.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak, but in this moment, her presence was a beam of sunlight peeking through a dark, cloudy sky. He didn't know it, but this moment alone made him one of the lucky ones among those who had viewed the photo.

“Where are you going, Mr. Sinclair?” she asked.

He gazed through the window of the liquor store, and then back at the child whom he promised to teach right and wrong, and care for in ways that no one else could, just as he had pledged to his other students. 

“Home,” he smiled. The first of many forced smiles, but paired with a genuine statement. Nothing could erase that photo from his mind, nor could the memories be reburied, but to disappoint was to fail. And he would not fail again. 

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Sinclair.”

And she did.