show it.
“Yeah.” He turned to pick up a lens sitting on the table.
I moved toward the last stack of photos. This one was taken outside a window into a dimly lit room. I could see a woman from behind. She was pulling her sweater up, as though she was about to slip it over her head. I could see a couple of inches of white skin. A coat was thrown over a couch, I could just see the end of it.
I jumped back as he tossed the other stack on top of it. “Things get messy in here. Come on.”
I followed him out. I saw relief on Jamie’s face that I’d emerged. Billy led us to a tree in the sandy area near the garage and carefully screwed the lens into the camera while he asked, “Are you afraid of heights?” He pointed to the tree with his chin.
In answer, I grabbed the lowest branch and swung up. Billy followed, then Jamie, who wasn’t about to let me do this alone. Muddie looked up at us, her mouth open. I motioned for her to go out front and keep watch.
I sat on a high branch, legs swinging. Billy climbed on the branch above and motioned to us. We followed. We were at the roofline now, and the branch was wide, forking out so that there was room for the three of us to sit. I was conscious of his arm against mine. He handed me the camera. “Go ahead, look.”
I put the camera to my eye. I couldn’t see anything at first.
“Turn the lens to focus.”
I turned the lens. I saw the rug in Nate’s office. I shifted the camera slightly and saw Da’s feet. I tilted upward and saw Da standing in front of the couch, talking to Nate.
Da’s face was hidden, he was turned slightly away. I could just see his hands moving, like he was trying to explain something hard. I could see Nate’s face, frowning in concern.
“What do you see?” Jamie said.
“They’re just talking,” I said. “Hardly worth a nickel.”
I swung the camera slightly upward to the window over the office. The blinds were open and I could see a shadowy interior. I realized that I was looking at the same couch that I’d seen in the photograph in Billy’s darkroom.
He pulled the camera away. “Let me focus it for you.” He looked through the lens, his mouth slightly open. “You can tell a lot,” he said, “by the way people stand. You can tell a lot by looking when they don’t think you’re looking.”
I felt guilty, sitting in the tree, spying on Da. Jamie was looking at the boy with a fascinated, intent look in his eyes. Billy handed him the camera and showed him how to work the lens. I was jealous. Two boys absorbed by machinery, and the girl always got left out. Their heads were together, bent over the camera.
“Come on, Jamie.” I sidled over on the branch, closer to the trunk. “Come on.”
“Nate has his arm on Da’s shoulder,” Jamie said, the camera raised to his face. “Now they’re shaking hands.”
“That means the meeting is over,” Billy said. “Gimme the camera.”
We shinnied down the trunk, hanging on to branches and swinging, our shoes finally hitting dirt with a satisfying thump.
Muddie came tearing around the side of the house. “He’s leaving! He’s looking for us now!”
We dashed toward her, but for an instant I turned to look back. Billy was leaning against the tree, the camera up to his eye again, and I heard the shutter click.
We’d expected a courtroom, but instead we were just in a room with a judge and a few other people who didn’t introduce themselves. We all sat silently, waiting, but we weren’t sure for what. The judge looked at papers. He didn’t seem friendly.
Da had brought the scrapbook with all our clippings. All the articles that said what a happy family we were and what a wonderful father he was. The pictures of us lined up on the couch, the first picture that was ever in the paper, Da with his arms full of three babies, a smile on his face, and sadness in his eyes. Da and the three of us at Maggie’s grave site. We’ve only gone once or twice, and then because a photographer wanted a picture. Da couldn’t stand the thought of our mother under the ground.
Da and the Corrigan Three at the Pennsylvania state fair. Da and the Corrigan Three at