La Photographie Moderne Read online



  Reason Simon

  Neil Crenner

  Copyright 2011 Neil Crenner

  Chapitre 1

  "Photography is a personal thing!"

  Trevor Chace was declaring. Reason Simon sat listening to him silently. He was used to all the nouveau artists that came in ever so often to try to pawn off their work as art. Reason Simon had a good eye with the camera lens, but his 'personal thing' came from a standpoint of function and profit. He did not really believe in photography as art, nor art as a form of self-expression like most people did. He did believe however that one could capture the beauty of something on film, frame it, and sell it, unlike most people who were schooled into believing that it was self-expression, art.

  His work was taking pictures and selling them to publishers who in turn sold them to ad agencies: Stock Photography; it paid well. Taking still lifes was easy and fun. People called him to buy photos. It was also a means to travel once in awhile to capture these still lifes. Besides his knack for photography, he was also aware that he had an intuitive gift for recognizing a savant. Most of the time, their naivety just bored him.

  He usually would let them spill their words while sitting behind his desk table all quiet and composed. He did not let on that he was not listening to them. He was just staring at their hair, their eyes, or their lips moving as they spoke. He was just sitting there and nodding his head in agreement all the while summing them up in his eyes, never listening to their dribble. And this latest dribbler was very naïve indeed, but nonetheless, he was a savant.

  His name was Trevor Chace, a young man with brown hair cut short all over, one length. His eyes were that golden brown rarely seen and he had a few whiskers on his chin. He stood about five feet ten inches and about 160 pounds.

  He was chatting away about something unaware that Reason was looking just past the moment, seeing a few minutes into the future… Seeing Trevor walk to his car, very disappointed from hearing Reason's words, ‘You just don't have the kind of work I display in my gallery.’ Seeing Trevor being struck by a truck moments after pulling away from the curb. Seeing Trevor hit the window fracturing his skull. Seeing…

  The vision ended. He felt numb. He blinked for a moment as he kept staring at Trevor Chace, all the while appearing to still be listening. He wanted to say out loud, "Please, STOP!" Yet he didn't. He wanted to make this vision go away, bury it away from his mind, but he couldn't. The violence of it all bothered him.

  Reason thought the vision was similar to dreaming in a sense, you are watching and aware of something happening, but you can't control it. The part of your brain that controls logic has fallen asleep, yet the visual gray matter is always awake, and continues to function as you sleep. Chronological timing is wrong in your dream and you can't figure out why. The vision was a brief moment.

  "Dreadful!" Reason thought. Trevor Chace would fracture his skull, and then have some brain damage, possibly affecting his motor skills to the point of paralysis. This would surely affect his work, if it did not stop him altogether. He had wished that Trevor Chase had never come into his gallery this afternoon. If this vision were to happen in the next few minutes, he would have to stop it. He had to step in, right now.

  "Did you have a childhood?" he interrupted Trevor.

  "Oh yes a very happy one!" Trevor Chace said enthusiastically. Reason had omitted the word happy on purpose wanting to know if Trevor was listening, but apparently he wasn't as he began to talk about the time when he was ten years old and his family took a month long trip to Oklahoma leaving the California suburbia, the full horror.

  Trevor Chace apparently had a pat answer for this question, naming off several different events that made his childhood happy. When in all truth it was probably not. Two divided by zero is still zero. It is odd how people remember only the good from the past sometimes?

  Reason stopped listening. His question was just to keep Trevor chatting a few moments longer to give him time to think of what to do, to keep him from being in this horrible accident from the vision. Alas, he never tried to change the future before, it might make it worse.

  Trevor Chace finished speaking abruptly. There was silence. 'Maybe he realized I am not listening?' Reason thought. Regardless, he was so glad that Trevor had stopped his chatter. Now it was his turn to talk.

  He began, "Why don't you go take a walk up the street, take your time, window shop, come back in about a half hour or so? While you do that I will call a friend of mine who has a gallery on the other side of town? He is always having exhibits for new artists. Now do you have about 15 to 20 pieces to show?" This time he was stepping in and changing the future and not just a few seconds, but an entire half hour.

  "Well no, not yet, but I am working on it. I could be ready in a couple of weeks. At the most three weeks."

  "Well don't rush yourself. He may be booked up for a couple of months. He gets some interesting work in there, all kinds of art, as well. I think he would like your work."

  Trevor smiled at this. "If only I could get a break and sell a few pieces. That would be fantastic!" he said with great enthusiasm.

  "I will make some fresh coffee while you are out strolling. Do you like coffee?"

  "Oh yes, I would love to have some coffee with you." At this, Trevor grinned widely, "Well that sounds lovely, how can I ever thank you Mr. Reason?"

  "Now now, it hasn't happened yet. So let's just wait and see, and it's just Reason."

  Trevor Chace smiled and said that he would be back in about half-hour. As he left, Reason acted as though he was calling his friend by picking up the phone and beginning to dial the number. As soon as the door closed, he hung up the phone and quickly walked to the back of the gallery to make some fresh coffee. He didn't want to be out in the front of the gallery if it happened.

  The gallery was a large rectangular building, built in the 1930's, with marble facing below the street windows. The front area had granite floors and four faux walls erected in a circular design to display artwork. There were three large antique glass chandeliers that provided a contrast to the contemporary art he displayed, his la photographie modern as he called it.

  In the rear was his studio, fairly large and open, with a nice size office and bathroom, tub included. Reason had purchased the building a few years back from a friend who was retiring and moving to Palm Springs, California. He loved his gallery, and he loved his coffee.

  He was just pouring the distilled water into the coffee maker when he heard a loud crash from the front of the store. He suddenly got chills. His vision had come true.

  Colbert looked up at him with her wrinkled forehead and sleepy eyes. His mother had given her to him for Christmas one year. She was really more company than Reason could ever wish for, and this beige Shari Pei was his companion most of the time. She had a beautiful disposition, wrinkles and all, and truly loved her master and people in general.

  He brought her to work with him every day and she kept him company. At the moment, she had laid her head back down and was off sleeping again, her wrinkled tail slightly wagging back and forth. "Silly dog," Reason said aloud.

  'Now back to the present situation,' he said to himself. He knew that he had changed the future for now, but had fate really just been pushed away for the moment? "Live only in the moment," he said to himself. Only time would tell.

  He heard the front door abruptly opened and then Trevor calling out to him, "Reason, Reason!"

  Hearing the hailing, Reason quickly walked to the front of the gallery. "What's the matter? Why are you shouting? What was that noise?" Reason asked with a tone of fear in his voice. He almost laughed out loud thinking about what he had just asked so dramatically.

 
Reason paused and looked at Trevor who was silent. Reason stood there standing his five foot nine inches tall with broad shoulders and a solid waist. His brown wavy hair, in need of a cut, fell down on his forehead as his green eyes opened wide with anticipation giving him a disheveled look of surprise.

  "A truck ran the red light and crashed into a car which spun around and hit the curb where I was standing, waiting to cross. If I had stepped out, I would have been hit by that car. I can't believe it, two seconds earlier and I would be seeing my maker."

  Reason looked surprise at this statement. "Was this guy a believer? Who would make a statement like that without having some measure of faith?" he pondered.

  Trevor stood there, his arms crossed, rubbing his elbows as he stared at the door. He was