Senior picture

by Cris Kane

The school quarterback asks a photography geek if he’ll take his picture for the yearbook.

Shawn had looks. He had a killer body. He had mad skills on the football field.

What he didn’t have was a lot of money.

So while other members of his class were hiring top-notch photographers to take their senior pictures, Shawn had to search for whoever could do it cheap. Around here, the cheapest shutterbug was “Navajo Joe”.

That’s what all the kids had been calling the short, skinny Native American kid from tenth grade since he and his family moved to town a few years back. Navajo Joe’s real first name was indeed Joseph, although no one knew if he was a Navajo or even bothered to ask what his background was. In general, he was just ignored, although behind his back, many of the jocks referred to him as “Nava-homo”. Not only was he small, thin and frail, sometimes staying out of school for weeks at a time for unspecified illnesses, but raised suspicions by excelling at anything artistic. While he never did anything overtly gay (besides being artistic), he did show up with his still camera at nearly every sporting event held at the high school and he seemed to focus his camera most intensely on the handsomest, hunkiest boys. At every football and basketball game, every swim or track meet, every wrestling match, Joseph could be found, hovering on the periphery, zooming in for the best angles. He used a vintage camera that still took photos on actual film and, after he developed the pictures, he would bring them in to the school newspaper for publication.

Shawn didn’t know much about art—or about much of anything besides football, to be honest—but he did know that, whenever his photo showed up in the school paper credited to Joseph, Shawn looked really cool in it. Not that any photographer could mess up terribly when taking a picture of the well-built senior with his shaggy brown hair, intense eyes, boyish upturned nose, firm lips and strong chin. But Joseph seemed to have a knack for snapping his shutter when Shawn was at peak awesomeness. Shawn’s girlfriend Madison had started keeping a scrapbook of all the photos of Shawn that appeared in the paper, so she could feast her eyes on Shawn during those rare waking moments when she let him out of her sight. Her favorite was probably one of Shawn at quarterback during the homecoming game, his facial features in perfect profile against the stadium lights, his right arm cocked back to throw, revealing just how pumped Shawn’s biceps were. Further down, Shawn’s spandex football pants embraced the bulging curves of his glutes and did nothing to hide the generous endowment lurking behind the laces on the front.

Madison was the one who urged Shawn last week to ask Joseph’s services for his senior portrait. When Joseph returned from one of his frequent absences on Monday, Shawn tracked him down in the hallway between classes. At first, Joseph acted afraid he was going to get beaten up when he saw Shawn walking quickly toward him in the hallway. Shawn grabbed Joseph by the arm so tightly that the skin indented and turned white, not returning to its natural cinnamon brown shade for a full minute after Shawn let him go.

“What do you want?” Joseph mumbled, casting his worried gray eyes up at Shawn.

“Chill, Nava… Joe.” Shawn grinned disarmingly, but Joseph looked suspicious. “I just wanted to say I liked the pictures of me you’ve been taking for the school paper.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks.” Joseph indicated relief that a jock was actually being civil to him, but he still stood with his limbs tense, ready to bolt if necessary.

“My girlfriend loves the pictures too, and she was wondering…well, I was wondering too…if you’d be willing to take my senior picture for the yearbook.”

Joseph’s body relaxed and he smiled with relief. “Why, sure, I’d be happy to.”

“I can’t afford to pay you much. Both of my folks are out of work right now, and I don’t have much saved up, but…”

Joseph waved off his apologies. “I’ll do it for free. It’d be a great opportunity.”

Shawn’s grin widened, revealing a movie-star smile. “For serious? Awesome! When?”

Joseph started to get excited. “How about after school today?”

Shawn shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I got football practice.”

“We can do it after practice is over. We can go out by my house. There’s some great scenery we could use as a backdrop.”

Joseph’s extreme eagerness was starting to give Shawn second-thoughts. He looked down at what he was wearing: a long-sleeved plaid shirt with jeans and work boots. “I’m not sure I’m dressed right for photos today.”

“Are you kidding? You look fabulous!” Inside his head, Joseph was kicking the shit out of himself. Fabulous? He never said that word, but suddenly it fell out of his mouth as soon as he found himself talking to the school’s number-one stud. He knew the jocks’ secret nickname for him, and knew how accurate it was, but he didn’t want to blow this chance by acting like a cliche. He backpedaled. “What I mean is, you don’t want to be in the yearbook looking like some douchebag in a suit and a tie with your hair all fussed over. You want to look normal. You want to look the way you really look. Like you do right now.”

Shawn couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t want to look like some pretty-boy model posed in a studio. “You promise I’ll look bad-ass?”

“How could you not?” How could you not??? Way to go, Joseph, you’re sounding less and less like a regular guy the more you blather on. Just shut up before it gets any worse. “So, after practice tonight?”

“After practice tonight.”

Not wanting to be taunted by the jocks, Joseph didn’t hang around the football field or the locker room, but waited in the parking lot until Shawn was done with practice. When Shawn finally emerged, his hair was tousled, his shirt untucked, its top two buttons undone. As Shawn unlocked his rusty 4x4, he asked Joseph, “I don’t know the way, so I guess I’ll need to follow you.”

Joseph looked sheepish. “I don’t have a car. I take the bus.”

Shawn had forgotten how young Joseph was. He unlocked the passenger door and said, “Okay, hop in.”

Shawn swung by his house to grab a few cans of Bud from his dad’s mini-fridge in the unfinished basement. He offered one to Joseph, who politely declined. Shawn chugged two beers as the truck bounced along the dusty backroad that led to Joseph’s place. Shawn had hoped the beer would loosen him up, since he was self-conscious about the idea of posing for pictures, particularly for someone who was probably a fag. Not that he had a problem with gay people. At least not as much as some of the other jocks. Hey, maybe fags take the best pictures because they like what they’re seeing, Shawn thought. Although if that was the case, then Madison should be able to take the best pictures in the world, because she couldn’t keep her eyes or her hands off Shawn whenever they were together.

Shawn liked Madison a whole lot. With her wavy blond hair, big green eyes and porn-actress lips, she was definitely the hottest of the cheerleaders, and she worked just as hard to keep in good shape as Shawn did. She wore her cheerleading sweater to school as many days as possible because she knew just how spectacular it made her boobs look, and it never failed to get him hard when she would leap in the air and her skirt would fly up to reveal her panties and her great ass. It was true she could get clingy sometimes. For the past couple of weeks, it was like she wanted to be with him 24 hours a day. Fortunately she had mellowed out in the last day or two. Musta been her period or something. But mostly, he was happy to be her boyfriend and he knew how jealous the rest of his teammates were that he was the guy who Madison pursued.

They finally reached the top of the hill where Joseph said meekly, “This is my place. It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but the outside keeps you from seeing how bad it looks inside.” Poor as his family was, Shawn suddenly felt like a millionaire compared to anyone who had to live in a dump like this. It had a sagging roof, a ramshackle porch, windows repaired with duct tape and a front yard consisting of dirt and rusty car parts.

A haunted scarecrow of a man with long white hair and the skin of a brown elephant opened the squeaky screen door and stepped onto the dilapidated porch. He eyed the strange truck with suspicion until Joseph leapt out of the passenger door and shouted, “It’s okay, this is a friend of mine from school.” Joseph smiled over at Shawn. “That’s my father. He’s scary at first, but when you get to know him… he’s terrifying.” Shawn had no doubt. “I’m gonna run in and get my camera. Be back in a minute.”

Joseph dashed swiftly across the pitiful “lawn” and into the house. Shawn was impressed by Joseph’s speed, especially for someone who’d just been so sick he couldn’t go to school. Maybe he should encourage the kid to join the track team next spring. Clearly he needed something positive in his life, and if Shawn vouched for Joseph, he was sure he could get the other jocks to lay off on the razzing and the mean jokes.

Shawn waved to Joseph’s father and called out, “How you doing today?” The old man merely stared, coolly appraising the young man and his truck. As a wind swept through, creating a cloud of dirt between them, Joseph stepped back outside carrying his camera and a tripod.

He sprinted over to the truck and told Shawn to follow him. “Bring your football.” Shawn jogged back to the truck and grabbed a ball from the cab, then cast a look back at Joseph’s father, who remained stern and unhappy.

Joseph scrambled easily up steep paths, increasing Shawn’s admiration for the wiry kid’s athleticism. He had assumed Joseph was just a wimpy art geek, but get this kid in a weight room and give him a year or two to grow, he might even be football material.

When they reached the top of the hill, Shawn was amazed by the natural beauty of the valley around them. “Shit, it’s awesome up here.”

“Yeah, I like to come up here and stare at the horizon and think about my future. The sunsets up here are spectac… they’re awesome.”

“I bet. So what should I do?”

Joseph pointed Shawn toward a rock outcropping near the edge of a cliff. “Stand over there. I can get all the hills and the trees behind you.”

Shawn set down the football, walked over and stood stiffly, facing directly at Joseph, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. Joseph placed the camera on a tripod and looked through the eyepiece, then frowned. “No, I need you to relax. Be natural.”

Shawn tried but he was still too self-conscious. He fidgeted with his arms, having no idea where to put his hands. Joseph realized the problem and grabbed the football. “Here!” He gave the ball a wobbly toss more or less in Shawn’s direction. Shawn easily snagged it with one hand, although it sent him slightly off balance. A lesser athlete might have toppled over the edge. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Joseph yelled.

“No problem,” Shawn grinned back. Okay, maybe Joseph wasn’t football material.

“I want you to grip your ball and stare at the horizon like you’re looking downfield.” Shawn did as he was told. Giving him a prop to hold had made a world of difference. “Turn a little to your right.” Better still. Joseph risked making another suggestion. “Could you maybe unbutton a couple more buttons of your shirt?”

Shawn hesitated. Was this all part of Joseph’s plan? To get him out here and have him take off his clothes so he could have pictures to jack off to? Wait, he was the one who asked Joseph to take the pictures. Stop bein’ such a dick, Shawn thought. He loosened two more buttons, offering a peek at the pecs he’d spent so much time perfecting in the gym over the summer.

Joseph grinned approvingly. “That looks awesome. You ever thought of being a model, Shawn?” Shawn laughed off the suggestion. “I’m serious. I don’t think you appreciate all you’ve got going for you.”

Shawn was starting to feel uncomfortable again, and the buzz from those beers was really kicking in. He just wanted this over with. “Quit stalling and take the pictures, okay?”

Joseph nodded and looked through the viewfinder. “Did you ever hear that old story about how when the first Native Americans saw cameras, they refused to let anyone take their picture because it would steal their soul?”

“Yeah, I think I heard something about that. I always thought it was just bullshit.”

“Yeah, me too. Funny thing, though. I asked my father about it. And you know what? He told me it was true.”

Joseph snapped the shutter on the camera and the clicking sound reverberated in Shawn’s ears, repeating and repeating like it was caught in a loop. Shawn’s skin tingled all over while his muscles stiffened. Inside, he felt panicked as he realized he couldn’t move any part of his body. It was as if he had become frozen in time at the moment Joseph took the photo. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon and he couldn’t move them in any direction. He suddenly felt an incredible desire to itch his nose, to lick his lips, to scratch his balls, to do anything physical, but he was powerless. As if that sensation weren’t disturbing enough, he suddenly felt as if he were drifting out of his body—almost as if he were seeping out of his pores and becoming a vapor. Eventually, when he felt his entire being had escaped the confines of his body, he seemed to coalesce, his spirit—his soul—shrinking, becoming denser until it seemed to converge into a single particle that zoomed at light speed toward the lens of Joseph’s camera. He was disoriented as his very being was warped through the heavy glass of the camera’s lens until he was finally trapped inside the camera itself as a shapeless entity.

“Can you hear me, Shawn?” The voice was booming and echoey, like Joseph’s voice but heard from a long distance away in a deep canyon.

Shawn’s trapped being, or whatever you wanted to call it, could somehow hear the voice, and he discovered that he could psychically “speak” back to the voice, despite no longer having a tongue or a mouth. “What did you do to me?”

Joseph’s camera remained on the tripod, while Joseph sat beside it on the ground, eyes closed in a meditative state so he could communicate with Shawn’s trapped soul.

“My father taught me how to capture the souls of others in my camera, then teleport my own soul into their bodies.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“You’re stuck in a camera, Shawn. Does that seem like I’m shitting you?”

Although his soul had no eyes, Shawn could somehow look out through the lens and perceive his body, still standing frozen in position on the cliffside. “Why are you doing this?”

“First of all, because I can. I mean, if you had a choice to be either me or you, wouldn’t you choose you? Second of all, so that I can support my family.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing a great job of that so far,” said Shawn’s snide disembodied voice.

“I’m still only learning. But I’ve been on the lookout for a body that I could really do something with.”

“So all those pictures you took at the games, you were stealing people’s souls?”

“No, I have to concentrate to make it happen, so I only steal the souls that I really want. Like Madison’s.”

“What? You did this to Madison?”

“Yeah. A couple of weeks ago. I got her alone after cheerleading practice and asked if I could take her picture. And, zap, she was trapped in the camera just like you are now, while I took over her body.”

If Shawn’s soul had a head, it would be swimming. “So, wait, for the last two weeks, Madison…”

“Has been me, that’s right.” Shawn could hear a wicked smile in Joseph’s voice. “Every time you kissed her, every time she jerked you off, every time she blew you, that was me.”

Holy shit, Shawn thought. He had wondered why Madison had been so eager to give him blow jobs lately. “That’s sick.”

“I got the impression you enjoyed it at the time.”

“You did that just so you could have sex with me?”

“Not exactly. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed being so close to you, but being stuck in a straight girl just felt…icky. No, I had to use her to convince you to let Joseph take your picture. You would never have asked ‘Nava-homo’ to take pictures of you if your girlfriend hadn’t said how hot you looked in his photos. Once I—well, Madison—had planted that idea in your mind, Madison’s soul went back into her body, with no memory that anything unusual had happened to her, and I returned to school in as my dumb old self.”

Joseph’s body began to shake violently, as if something were escaping it at a rapid speed. Instantaneously, Shawn’s body began to vibrate. Joseph felt his spirit overtaking Shawn’s frame, his lifeforce oozing its way through Shawn’s bones, his muscles, his brain. The transition from his own scrawny body into Shawn’s was overwhelming to Joseph. While his training period had allowed him to enter other bodies that were larger than his, including his own father’s, none had previously possessed the strength, the poise and the confidence of Shawn. As Joseph acclimated to his new shape, the body began to move, balancing itself quickly before it could topple over the cliff. He clutched the football in his hands and had a comforting sense that Shawn’s body mechanics and agility were still intact even without Shawn’s soul. He glanced down at the gap in his open shirt and admired the well-honed musculature underneath. He lifted a mighty fist and appreciated how the folds of fabric stretched and strained over the pumped biceps. Taking over Madison was a means to an end. Taking over Shawn was Joseph’s wet dream. Shawn’s cock expanded to a rock-hard eight inches just from Joseph’s thoughts about what he would be able to do in this body.

Joseph looked over and saw his body collapsed on the ground beside the camera on its tripod. He walked over, enjoying the swagger that came automatically with this body, and spoke softly into the camera. “Shawn, I can’t hear you anymore, but you should still be able to hear me. I’m not sure how long I’ll be in here, but don’t worry, my father will make sure nothing happens to you until I return. And I promise, I would never let anything bad happen to this body.” Joseph placed one of Shawn’s hands under his shirt and rubbed his smooth tanned skin.

Joseph, as Shawn, easily flung Joseph’s inert body over one shoulder and grabbed the camera and tripod with the other. He walked back to the house and left the camera and his old body with his father, then strode manfully back to the 4x4. He got into the driver’s seat and roared the engine to life. He had driven in enough other bodies by now that he could practically take a driver’s exam if he wanted to. He waved goodbye to his father, who could psychically make out the muffled screams of Shawn’s soul inside the camera.

Shawn did not show up for school the next day, and his parents told the school that he had never come home the night before, although his father did note that some cans of Budweiser had gone missing. No one had seen Shawn when he drove off, and his 4x4 was missing. Shawn’s girlfriend was questioned but she couldn’t think of anything that might have caused him to vanish, although the police found it suspicious that her memories of the past two weeks appeared to be astonishingly vague.

Joseph also did not show up for school the next day, but nobody noticed much. People were so used to him being out sick that this attracted no undue attention. He wasn’t a very memorable kid.

About a week later, Joseph’s father received a letter from California, in which Joseph described his adventures so far. He had ditched the 4x4 fairly quickly, to avoid being spotted, and with the help of family members scattered across the country, had made his way to the coast via various forms of transportation. He had already had meetings for possible representation as a model and hoped to be able to start sending checks back home soon. (There were other things Joseph planned to do with this body to make some extra money—things that Shawn would never have done and which Joseph’s father never needed to hear about.)

Just in case the police ever connected them to Shawn’s disappearance, Joseph’s father burnt the letter as well as a photo that Joseph had enclosed. It showed “Shawn” lying on a California beach in white shorts, hair clipped into a buzz cut and newly bleached to platinum blond, his softball-sized deltoids and biceps practically bursting through his golden skin.

In the photo, he was staring at the horizon, pondering the bright future ahead of him.

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