The likeness of Beth

The Mary Dunn Park was an oasis not far from the city center. The canopies of the old trees spread their dappled light over the undulating walkways and hidden grottos. It was to one of these grottos I had brought the soon-to-be newlyweds, Lily and Kara. What made this grotto special—especially at this time of year—were the five cherry trees, which right now, were in full, glorious pink and white blossom.

I had the women stand under one of the cherry trees, and while they laughed and preened each other’s wedding gowns, I fibbed a little and told them I needed to take some light readings, and excused myself to stand about fifteen feet away. 

Then I raised my old Canon that had been hanging around my neck and turned it on. Two things happened at once, the screen on the back of the camera came on, and a twenty nine year old woman appeared in front of me.

“Hello, Beth,” I said softly.

Hands on hips, she looked around. When she looked back at me she was smiling. She loved Mary Dunn Park. We had been here maybe ten times over the last couple of years. Then looking at me closer her eyebrows rose slightly, and she reached out a hand to my cheek. Was it only my imagination, or did I actually feel the breath-like touch of her hand? 

“Yes, I’ve let my beard grow out a bit. What do you think?”

Beth never spoke, but she somehow always exactly expressed her feelings. She squinted, twisted her lips, and shook her head. She didn’t like my beard.

“I’ll shave it off then,” I mumbled.

It was then she saw the happy couple. Her eyes went wide and she hurtled in their direction, leaping, twirling and pirouetting around them the way a comet is drawn into an orbit around its parent star. 

Lily and Kara of course had no idea they were being circled by a ghost.

I began taking photos of the women, some discreet personal moments, and others where I had them pose leaning against each other, sitting on a green mat I had supplied, and more where I tried to draw out the love and joy they felt for each other on this day.

Beth of course, was constantly in the way, sometimes even standing in front of the couple, hamming it up just to rile me. In these situations I would take the shot anyway, and hope it turned out later. Luckily, Beth never showed up in any of the photos I took. 

In one of the shots a slight breeze had dislodged a couple of the cherry blossoms from above the women’s heads and they were perfectly captured falling between them. I was smiling down at the image on the screen when I felt Beth next to me. I pointed to the blossoms on the screen and looked up at the tree. Beth nodded but then danced like a happy child back to the women, her arms outstretched as if she expected a hug or something. I stifled a laugh.

After few more shots of Lily and Kara standing next to an old sundial under the trees, I noticed Beth had disappeared. When I spotted her, she was about ten feet away behind some bushes. She had lost all her sparkle, and stare hard and intense at the trees above. I had no idea what was going on with her, but the look in her eyes took me instantly back to that day. Her wedding day.

I had been a wedding photographer for only a year when I was contracted to do a full wedding shoot - following the bride and groom through their big day, their preparations, the dressing, the outside shots, the family interactions, the wedding itself, and then onto the reception. 

Except we never made it to the reception. 

Beth, her new husband Thomas, their parents, and the wedding party were standing on the steps of the gothic style church. I was taking probably the 2000^th photo of the day when someone near Beth said something amusing. She threw back her head in laughter and everyone around her joined in because Beth’s laugh was so infectious, so unrestrained, they couldn’t not laugh with her. I quickly zoomed in on her face, and took a shot or two, but as I was about to press the shutter again something happened to Beth. Her eyes went wide and filled with fear, and in that moment, just as I pressed the shutter, she looked into the camera.

Then like a puppet that suddenly lost her strings she tumbled down the steps, landing in a mess of tangled hair, twisted arms and crumpled white gown.

Peopled yelled in panic as a crowd gathered around the fallen woman. They tried to revive her, an ambulance was called, as the voices became more frantic it was clear that it was too late. People were crying, being consoled, calling for help, but it seemed there was nothing they could do. 

“She’s dead!” someone cried. 

I hadn’t moved. I opened that last photo and just stood there staring into the eyes of someone who had been in the process of dying.

A few days later I discovered Beth had died from a massive cerebral aneurysm, something some people called a ‘mercy’ because she hadn’t suffered. But they hadn’t seen the fear in her eyes as she had realized something was happening to her. I decided to view that photo again, but because I hadn’t touched the camera since the incident, I hadn’t downloaded the images, so I turned the camera on to view the image on the camera’s screen. It was then that the ghost of Beth appeared in my kitchen. 

I screamed of course. I mean who the hell expects to ever meet a ghost. In shock I fell to the floor and skittered across the boards until my back hit the oven.

Beth the ghost laughed soundlessly and danced from room to room. She kept dancing back to me and tilting her head as if to ask “Why are you sitting on the floor, dude?” She seemed so carefree, and didn’t seem to care that she was dead at all. Later, I would come to realize she didn’t remember her past life or even that she had died at her own wedding.

In a daze, I finally stood, and with shaking hands turned off my camera. Beth instantly disappeared. After a minute I turned on the camera again, and once again there was this happy, bubbly ghost sitting on my kitchen table. When I switched off my camera she disappeared again. It kind of made sense now. It seemed that somehow in that moment between life and death, Beth’s spirit had transferred into the camera. It was if the photons that had traveled to the camera in that last second had also snagged her soul, her psyche, her ka, or whatever you wanted to call it, and whisked it into my camera. 

How long I would have a ghost living in my camera I didn’t know. And two and a half years later I still had no idea.

Back at the park, I was disturbed by seeing that look in Beth’s eyes again, and almost ran to her, but in a twinkling of dappled light she was gone.

I turned around looking for her but after hearing Lily and Kara’s laughter I turned back. A shower of cherry blossom petals were falling on the women, they held out their hands and laughed, but of course couldn’t see the ghost in the tree above them shaking the branches. I had no idea she could affect the material world like that!

I smiled up at Beth and began taking a series of photos of the women that would later be among my all time favorites. Lily and Kara had their faces raised as blossoms fell around them and onto them. One petal fell on Lily’s nose and I caught the moment of pure joy between them as Kara plucked the petal away.

The petal shower slowed and ended, and Beth stood before me. It must have taken a lot out of her as she was almost translucent. Hardly there at all. She needed to rest, to recover.

“Thank you, Beth,” I whispered.

We smiled at each other, and I turned off my camera.