A Man on an Island Ch. 01

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Emma sat in the coffee shop looking out the window at the lot. It had taken a day of text negotiations to get this meeting scheduled. She had hoped that the weather would have seen fit to cooperate, but it had started to rain late in the afternoon. She expected to see Cale arrive in a car.

No, she thought, he'd come in a pickup truck, she'd bet. She had no idea why it had come to her, but that was her guess. She sat up as she noticed a pair of headlights on an approaching motorcycle. She remembered that his had two headlights. As the bike turned in, she recognised it as his. She reached into her bag and pulled out her good camera, quickly going through the changes in its settings that would allow her to shoot through the glass windows without the autofocus.

She began shooting as soon as he came to a stop, and watched as he got off. He was soaked in some places, and not in others. She wondered why. He stood and pulled off his helmet, and Emma smiled as he ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair before walking to the shop. The rain didn't seem to make him walk much faster. She looked intently as she tripped the shutter time and again for the look that had appeared in her other shots, and was rewarded that it had appeared again. What the heck was haunting him?

He walked in and the look disappeared as he recognised her. He approached with a rueful smile to set his helmet on one of the vacant seats. For an instant, Emma could see what he must have looked like as a boy when he offered only "Hi, sorry I'm a bit late."

"That's ok, "she smiled, "You're pretty hardcore to ride today. I thought you'd bring your truck."

He looked at her curiously, "They were only calling for overcast today, and I couldn't get away with enough time to get home first. I have raingear in my saddlebags, but I thought I was already going to be late. Besides, by the time I could have pulled over, I'd have been soaked anyway before I could get it on. How did you know I have a truck?"

Emma laughed, "I didn't. I was just thinking that you'd drive in, and then I thought that your other vehicle was probably a truck."

Cale shrugged, "I didn't know I was that transparent. I do have a car, but for any kind of heavy weather, I much prefer my pickup. Have you eaten at all? I think I need a hot bowl of soup right now."

"No, "she said, "and I'm buying yours. I'm the one who's trying to ply you, and if hot soup is what it takes..."

He looked ready to protest, but Emma was insistent, "Look Cale, if it wasn't for my trying to wheedle you into the idea of a shoot, you'd have gone straight home to begin to dry off and get warm. As it is, you're here all wet to see me. I think I owe you for that."

After she'd bought their food, they returned to the table. "I still think I was right about you being a hardcore rider, "she said, "Yours is the only bike in the lot. I'm not a bike person, but even I know that most of the spit-shined bikes never feel a drop of rain if their owners can help it."

He shrugged, "I ride because I love to ride, and the weather gods don't always see it my way. It needed a wash anyway, and now I have an excuse to clean it. I wouldn't have taken it if it was raining this morning, but if I left it home every time that it looked like it might rain, what would be the point?"

He dug into the soup, and closed his eyes. Emma sadly watched a great shot go by.

"I needed this, "Cale said.

She chuckled, "You know, this is getting dumb. I was taking shots of you through the window all the way in. You'll have to sign another release now."

He looked at her cautiously, "That's fine, Emma. But would you please tell me what you see that you want to photograph? I mean -- if you can express it. Nobody's ever wanted to take pictures of me before, and I suppose that I ought to feel flattered but ..." he exhaled, "I'm hardly model material, and even if I was, I'm way too old for it."

Emma held up her hand as she began to recall some of what she'd just gotten on her camera. "Do I look like I just wandered in off my daddy's farm to you?"

She picked one that she really liked, "Here, take a look, and try to imagine that it's not you. I'm not even into bikes, at least I don't think I am, but this says a lot about riding and this particular rider to me."

He looked at it dubiously, "You know, you've got a lot of talent. If I was a really rich businessman, or some kind of personality, I'd insist on you as my photographer. I'm not big on how I look, but as you say, if it wasn't me, this would be magazine grade. What do you want to do in your shoot?"

She sat back, "There's two things I'm after here. I want to do a shoot outside somehow, and I haven't put all my thoughts together yet, but it would just be you being you, pretty much. If I had my druthers, I'd want to do a studio shoot too, but that would take even more planning on my part."

Emma sat forward to look at Cale intently, "And the other thing is much more elusive, I've just figured out. I was only certain of it as you walked in, Cale. You have this look to you, and the damndest thing is that it's not constant. You're interesting enough in my viewfinder, but there's this thing about you that makes you even more so. I really hope you can harness it, because I'd really like to see it again."

"What is it?" he asked, perplexed.

She set her camera on autofocus and took his picture. "Here, "she said, "look at this. Forget about the crappy composition and everything else. Just look at your expression." He saw it and nodded, "So?"

She recalled the shot from outside, "Now again, look only at your expression. Do you see it?"

He studied the shot, "Yeah, it's different."

Emma smiled, "What were you thinking just then? What were you thinking the other day when the tear came?"

Cale grimaced, "I'm not sure that I want to tell you. I'm normally a pretty bright person. All it takes to make me smile in the morning is to realise that I haven't woken up dead, though I have a severe face -- and I can't help that. The other day, I was just feeling alone -- totally alone, and it made me sad for a minute. I don't often let it get to me, but it started to get through that day. When I walked in just now, I was hoping something. I guess my face just shows it the same way." He shrugged. Emma sensed that it wouldn't be a good thing to pry, so she left it for the moment.

"Will you do the shoot? I promise that I won't make you look dumb, Cale. The results speak to my skill as well as your appearance. I'd want to do my best."

He smiled, "I'm assuming that there's no pay for this."

Emma nodded.

"Well, it's not like I'd be doing anything terribly important for the time it would take, though it would probably take most if not all of one of my days off. So there are a couple of things that I'd be interested in, "he said brightly.

Emma sighed with an overly exasperated expression, "Honestly, you models. Conditions, it's always conditions with you." She grinned, "Ok, what is it you want?"

"Two things again, "he smiled hopefully, "One thing that bothers me about this a little is that I find that I like you so far. I'm afraid that once you have the shots of me that you want, I'd probably never see you again. I think I'd like a tiny bit more than that relationship. I'm not asking for anything here other than for you to consider the possibility of spending a day with me just riding around on my bike. Please notice that I'm only asking you to consider it -- not agree to it, so I'd say that this condition comes off as pretty inexpensive for you. You can always say that you've considered it, and that you decline."

Emma looked confused, "Let's leave that one aside for now. What's the other condition?"

He grinned at her, "I love your hair, Emma. May I please rub it?"

She sat stunned, before laughing, "That's it? That's the second condition?"

He nodded, and she said with a laugh, "Ok, but I get to rub yours right after."

Cale agreed, and they laughed as they touched each other's short hair momentarily.

"Why do you like my hair?" she asked.

"I just do, "Cale replied, "It looks so good on you. It's a hard enough look to get right on a man, but it takes more for a woman to be able to pull it off in my book because on a man, you just accept it. I've seen women attempt the look sometimes, but even if they were going for severity, they pretty much blow it. On you? It's just right."

"Maybe they were going for the look as an indicator, "Emma speculated hopefully.

Cale shook his head, "Undoubtedly some do, and all I'm saying is that for those women, there must be other looks that will say what it is that they want to say. For this particular look, Emma, there just aren't that many who can pull it off."

She thought about his other condition, "How do you know I'm not one of the ones that use it as an indicator?" She thought she knew what he might be hoping for with his condition, "I might just be, you know. You don't know me very well."

Cale shrugged, "Emma, I try to be aware of what's going on around me, but I'd be the first to admit that there are subtle signs that I miss. Unless I miss my guess, what those women are trying to signal isn't aimed at me anyway."

He looked at her, "And if you're one of those women well, don't think it gets you out of a day of riding with me."

"Why wouldn't it, Cale?" Emma was intrigued now. Unless Cale was as thick as a post...

He looked down at the almost empty soup bowl for a moment, before looking back at her, "Because Emma, "he struggled for a moment, "I think I get that you're trying to tell me that you're not interested in me, and for the moment, I can't tell if you're trying to warn me that you prefer women or that you're pretending to because you aren't attracted to me. In either case, it doesn't make much difference. What matters is that I like you.

To be blunt about it, I think that I'd very much like to have your friendship if I could. I don't have many friends. You could use the day to scout locations for the shoot. I'm just hoping to make a friend out of this."

Emma was beginning to see a possible clue for that look of his. She spoke quietly, "So let's say that, for the sake of argument, I was a real, honest-to- goodness, card-carrying lesbian. You're telling me that you want to be my straight friend, and that you still want me to go riding with you in exchange for the photo shoot?"

Cale's face took on the expression of a boy again as he tried to sound like a ten year old from the sixties, "Gosh, you mean you guys get to carry cards and everything?"

Emma laughed, "Hey, I'm not admitting a thing here. I was speaking hypothetically. But you really want to be my friend?"

His face showed intense contemplation before suddenly clearing, "Sure, if we can be. It doesn't matter whether you're straight or not. Why does that preclude even the possibility of friendship? That's why I want to go riding with you, to see if we can be friends and if you'd like it. And I'd want copies of the pictures on a CD or something. And I'm frankly not nuts about you taking shots of me if I have to take my clothes off."

Emma smiled wickedly, "We'll see about that later. I might just be trying to fake you out about being queer. For all you know, I might just be one of those low-budget pornographers. I'd take your pictures and sell 'em to all of those horny housewives ... And why wouldn't you want to do nude shots?"

"Because, not matter what you see, or think that you see in my face, my body has nothing to interest anybody, and I sure wouldn't want to see it on those sites that you posted to." He held out his hand, "Do we have a deal?"

She grabbed his hand.

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Emma spent a few days thinking about locations. She already had one in mind, with maybe a second possibility. She called Cale, and they discussed using the ride that he'd wanted with her to scout locations, since he thought he might know of a couple of others, but said that she obviously had to see if they'd do. They agreed on the day, and Emma said that since the morning light was the most important to her, she'd wanted to be on the road before daybreak. She was surprised to see him arrive at the coffee shop in his truck.

"What's with the pickup, Cale?" she asked, "I thought you wanted to do this on your bike."

"I did, Emma. But I don't know if you've ever been on a bike before, and pre-dawn isn't the best for a first impression. Besides, I'm good with the chill temperatures, but you don't have any clothes for it, and there's one place that I couldn't get my bike into. My truck will get us there no sweat."She was impressed that he cared that much. He bought them a bite to eat, and they were off.

Around mid-day, Cale pulled into a small eatery in a tiny town, and Emma said that she had to think on which of the places that they'd seen were the one or ones that she'd want to use. Cale pointed out that there was one more possibility, and she agreed to see it.

She was a little concerned, since she knew that it had to be out of the way, but at the same time, she felt comfortable enough with him to trust him this much. She wasn't getting any alarm bells about him in her head, and she always trusted her instincts - and in spite of herself, she'd been having a great time with him.

Cale pulled into the entrance to a field and stopped. "Where are we?" Emma asked.

He leaned over, and took her map, and then grabbing her pencil, he placed a small dot. "Right about here, see?" He pointed to his GPS, and Emma could see that it matched with the map. "I just have to open and close the gate. There are horses and cattle on this land. I kind of know the owner because I did some work for her a while back, and I called to ask for her permission for this."

"Who is she?" asked Emma.

He smiled, "Her name is Sylvia McDonnell. This is her family's land, and she's building up a horse farm with her husband for when he retires."

He got out to open the gate, and then pulled the truck ahead before getting out and closing it again after them. As he rolled forward, he reached down and pulled on a lever sticking out of the floor. He caught her look and explained, "This old girl predates the spiffy all-wheel-drive nonsense. I'm just glad I don't have to climb out to play with the hubs to lock them like back in the old days. I just pull this, and we're off." They began to grind up a long incline. "Don't slurp your coffee now, Emma. The ground's too rough for that, and you'd only end up wearing it."

They motored slowly along. "So what is this place?" she asked.

"Well, if we knew each other better, I'd tell you to wait and see. But since you're looking as nervous now as a cat near a rocking chair, we're going to the original homestead, or what's left of it. I think there was some thought put to having their own mill; since I saw some indication of that when I stumbled across it. I really have to ask Sylvia. It's just over this rise."

Emma felt a little embarrassed, "Does it show that much? I'm sorry, Cale."

He smiled, "Don't worry about it, I understand."

They ground over the hill, and he stopped on the other slope. "What do you think?"

They were above a small, flat plain. There was the overgrown homestead, and she agreed that there appeared to be the remains of a mill there. "Cale, it's perfect! Can we drive down there?"

"Sure, "he said, "grab on to that handhold over the door there. It gets a bit rough on the way down."

They wandered around for twenty minutes or so before Cale suggested that they head back out. Back in the truck, Emma was in love with the place, "I think that place is a whole shoot by itself."

"Well, "Cale said noncommittally, "You ought to decide what you want to do, Emma. I only agreed to one shoot."

She looked at him, "Oh, come on, Cale. I'd want to do one whole shoot with you right there. Come on, more than one, please?"

He sighed, "There you go with that word again. That's how I got myself into agreeing to one shoot. Tell you what, let's do one, and then you tell me if you want to do any more, ok?"

"Alright, "she laughed, "But I warn you now, for a shoot with you here, I'm gonna want to see at least a little skin. Do you have an axe or something like that? I want to get some farmboy-at-work shots."

Cale laughed and shook his head, "Emma, I'm not some twenty year-old. I'm an old fart. I can do what you want, but I can't see how it would be attractive in the shots."

Her face held a smug look, "That's my job. The idea that I have in my head requires a good-looking man, not some gym-boy cutie who's never lifted anything heavier than a latte outside of a gym."

"Um, you said 'good-looking'."

"Cale, I'll hit you pretty soon," she smirked, "Believe me, you'll do."

Somewhere during the drive back, Emma decided that Cale was trustworthy, and moved him into that category in her mind. She'd already decided that they could be friends, since she'd found herself liking him a lot. As they pulled into the coffee shop lot, she asked him to follow her to her place.

He snorted with a smile, "I'd follow you anyplace, Emma, but ..."

"Well are you doing anything today? I thought that you'd set the whole day aside for this." She said pointedly.

"No, "he replied, "I' m wide open. What do you have in mind?"

"Three things, "she said airily, "One -- I'd like to get a few test shots of you to check my lighting. It won't take long. And two - I'm going to make us dinner. Three -- I just wanna hang out with my new friend some more."

Cale smiled, "Then lead on, and don't drive too fast. This old thing won't corner like your car."

As he followed her home, Cale wondered a little. Emma must trust him at least a little bit to want to do this, he thought. He was happy for that, he decided. He just worried about what she wanted of him in the shoot. He decided to talk to her about it.

"Don't worry about it, "she said, "I know you have no idea how to be a model, so I'm not expecting you to find poses for yourself and freeze every two seconds so I can get the shot. I'll pose you. You just have to remember not to put anything more into the pose than I ask for." She turned on her lights in front of her background, "Now take off your shirt, please."

He stared at her as though she'd just caught him trying to steal her purse. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on, Cale, "she said, "You look like you're the young, innocent girl who's starving, and is reluctantly doing a porn shoot with the big bad pornographer so that she'll have money to eat. These are just test shots, and I'm not going to make you look stupid."

He looked down and shook his head. Emma thought that she had lost him right there, but he began to unbutton his shirt. She heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

As he dropped his shirt, she stared at him, "Would you please tell me why in heaven's name, you'd feel nervous about this."

He sighed in a little exasperation, "Because I'm not a model, Emma, I don't have the rippling muscles that those guys have. I'm just a man, who, um -- who's feeling pretty foolish right about now."

"Well stop it, "Emma told him, "I'm not looking for that, as I told you. What you have is perfect, believe me."

She got busy behind the camera, "Cale, what I want is a real man for this, somebody that has a few miles on his frame, and got his build from working -- not by playing at a gym. Any woman with a brain knows there's a difference. Turn to your left more." She took shot after shot. "I'll try to explain it better over dinner, ok? Just trust me; you're exactly right for the homestead."

She raised one of her spots high over him and guided him through a few poses, but she was aware that he was agreeing to this because he sought her friendship, so she was always mindful not to ask too much of him. She'd have loved to see his legs and butt, but there was no way that she'd ask it of him, at least not yet. She thought he was a pretty special guy to even do this much, since he wasn't being driven to feed an ego. "You don't have a gut, but could you pull back on that, and then push down into your stomach?"