Chapter 2
1300 Words
2
I materialized in a photo studio, in a maze of umbrella lights.
I landed on a long gray backdrop.
A flash temporarily blinded me.
When the stars in my eyes faded, I saw a man in a blazer and thick blue glasses with a camera smiling at me.
My client.
“That was fantastic, Aisha,” the photographer said. “That bit with the fedora—brilliant!”
“Glad you liked it,” I said.
“That pose really emphasizes that you are the city’s premier dream mage,” the photographer said.
“Whoa, you're being way too kind,” I said.
“After saving the city on your last adventure, everyone wants to know who Aisha, Darius, and Destiny Robinson are,” the photographer said. “Like it or not, you guys are famous.”
Sure, we saved the city from a nightmare train, and it was kind of a big deal, but we weren't letting it go to our heads.
But I sure as hell wasn’t going to turn down the money the magazine photographer was offering for this photo shoot, or the chance to get some exposure in the magazine through the article they were writing about me. That was good for business. Compared to demon money or shady customers, this was the kind of money I could believe in.
A hand appeared in front of me. I grabbed it, and Destiny pulled me up.
“Nice job, cuz,” she said.
In the corner of the studio, a middle-aged woman in a blue dress sat up on a cot, rubbing her eyes. She was hooked up to an EEG machine.
The creative director.
“Wow, that dream was something else,” she said.
“It could have been so much worse,” I said. “But I will say—the beach you dreamed of was lovely. I didn't have to change a thing.”
“Do you think we’re going to cause some controversy with this?” Destiny asked. “I mean, we attracted a Somnient solely for the purpose of killing it during a photo shoot.”
“It was going to die anyway,” I said. “Someone else would have killed it.”
“Agree,” the creative director said. “Let us handle the controversy. It's what we do best.”
Someone cursed.
Darius was sitting at a table in front of a black machine with several rows of glittering lights. The machine reminded me of a sound mixer with a screen, except it was covered in a film of green magic, which oozed around it like plasma.
“This damn thing,” Darius said, kicking it. “Why don't you ever want to work, huh?”
“You a’ight, cousin?” I asked.
“Of all the days you choose not to work, you want to pick today!” Darius shouted at the machine.
“This isn't going to be a problem, is it?” the photographer asked, frowning. “The whole shoot is predicated on being able to obtain photos from the dream.”
“I'll get it fixed,” Darius said. “This thing is just tricky, that's all.”
The creative director took off her EEG pads and joined Darius at the machine.
“What exactly is this thing?” she asked.
“It’s a dream resonance machine,” Darius said. “DRI for short. But I call him Dre. It's a piece of wizard tech. It picks up brain waves, and it can also detect dream ether. It synthesizes both of those together to create an image of the dreamscape.”
“I'll be damned,” the photographer said.
“I picked this thing up at an old sale,” Darius said. “The newer machines give much clearer images, but this one’s pretty good. When it works.”
He smacked the machine.
“You hear that, Dre?” he asked. “There are cardboard boxes out there that work more consistently than you, dog.”
Here we went again. Darius fighting with machines. Every time it happened, he went from an eighteen-year-old to a curmudgeon in ten seconds flat, talking nonsense until the machine worked or he gave up. Reminded me of an old cartoon picture of a duck taking a hammer to a PC. It was hilarious.
“Dre, Dre, Dre,” he said, climbing behind the machine. “I don't even take you out of the house. First time I do, you want to act a fool in front of some important-ass people. Did you take your medicine today?”
He fiddled with some wires, unplugging one and plugging in another.
“Well, it ain't your assembly panel, cuz I done changed that last year. LAST YEAR, a’ight?”
I shook my head.
I didn't mind him going off on Dre, but not in front of clients.
“D, you do what you gotta do,” I said.
I turned to the photographer.
“Why don't we finish the rest of the shoot while we’re waiting?” I asked.
“Sounds good,” the photographer said. “I'll photograph you and Destiny. We can insert Darius in later.”
Destiny cackled. “You hear that, D? He says yo ass is so ugly that he's gonna have to edit you into the photo.”
“I've photographed uglier dudes, if that makes you feel better, Darius,” the photographer said, winking.
Darius’s face went long.
“Ha. Ha,” he said. “If I was ugly—and that's a big IF reserved for judgment only by the good Lord—you twice as ugly as me, Destiny.”
Destiny cupped her hands to her mouth and said, “Weak comeback!”
“Will you just turn into a hippo or whatever take the damn photos?” Darius asked. “If you haven't noticed, I got s**t to do.”
He went back to troubleshooting Dre, cursing and mumbling to himself as he crawled underneath the table.
Destiny snickered.
“I couldn't help myself,” she said as the photographer positioned us next to each other on the backdrop.
“Now I want you both to pretend that you're the most famous people in the city,” photographer said. “I mean, you are. But I want confidence and radiance.”
“You mean this?” I asked, putting a hand on my hip, posing.
Destiny folded her arms.
Flash!
We turned.
Flash!
“Aisha, let me see you tilt your head back and laugh,” the photographer said.
I did it.
Flash!
“Destiny, turn into a falcon and perch on Aisha’s arm,” the photographer.
We did it. I looked at Destiny, trying to channel the wisdom of a falconer. Ha!
Flash!
About a hundred flashes later, I could hardly see. Stars danced across my vision and it took me a minute to focus.
Darius whooped.
“Awww yeah,” he said. “That'll teach you! Boo-yah, baby!”
He waved at us. Then he snapped his fingers. Dre hummed and the instrument panel glowed. The magic surrounding it flowed quicker as images appeared on its screen.
“It's working finally,” I said.
“Dre and I have a love-hate relationship,” Darius said. “But it's all good, ain’t it, Dre?”
The images appeared blurry at first, but Darius grabbed a stool and sat down, manipulating Dre’s many knobs and sliders until the images became clearer.
“Look at him on his little Etch A Sketch,” Destiny said. “Isn't he the cutest thing you ever saw?”
“You got jokes today,” Darius said. “You sure you want to go to Lakeway University? Maybe you oughta try stand-up comedy.”
I tapped Destiny on the shoulder.
“Knock it off,” I whispered.
Meanwhile, Darius adjusted the images. Snapping his fingers, he cast a spell on the screen that made the colors brighter and the darks darker. After a final knob turn, he beheld his work.
On the screen was an image of me, wreathed in dream ether, hands pointed at the Somnient, with the fedora c****d. I looked damn good.
Darius cycled through the images, all of me in fighting poses.
Hmm, maybe I should have been a model.
Naw, maybe not. I was pretty happy with my current career choice as a dream mage. But these images were a boost to my self-esteem, especially when I realized that the photographer was going to use a photo editor to make me look even better.
“Lookin’ beautiful as ever,” Destiny said.
“Can you send those to me so I can manipulate them?” the photographer asked.
“Done,” Darius said, pressing a button.
“Thank you all,” the creative director said. “You've already given the info to the reporter for the article, so I would expect it to be out tomorrow. These photos won't take long for us to approve.”
She handed me a check. Two thousand dollars for an hour’s worth of work.
“Appreciate it,” I said, tucking the check into my jacket.
“Darius, we’ll do your photo shoot now if you don't mind,” the photographer said.
“You two want to stick around?” Darius asked. “I'm gonna have to take Dre to the repair shop when I'm done here.”
“I've got coffee with a girlfriend uptown,” Destiny said, putting on her coat.
“I've got to get back as well,” I said, patting the check in my pocket. “There's a bottle of Prosecco waiting for me that I've stood up way too many times. Will you be all right?”
“I'm cool,” Darius said. “See y’all later.”
I put on my coat and gave him a peace sign as Destiny and I walked out of the studio.
- Writer
