Heart Condition

Chapter Sixteen: Games

I was on the corner of Castro and States, hiding behind the Randall Museum and waiting for the potential subjects to run down the street with bright smiles and eager minds. I’d skipped out on my shift at the coffee shop, which Zeda covered for me on the basis that I had to ‘break in the new equipment’ I’d received two days before.

            Dad used to walk me to the Randall after school some days when I was small, taking pictures of me finger-painting and copying the animals. He had them posted all over his panels in the dark room, next to the Pride festival photos and stills of unused Chronicle pieces. Now, I had pictures of children with their dads, the same glow in their eyes that I had in mine.

            Suddenly, like seagulls to scraps, children flocked to the doors with their parents. I snapped my photos: a girl smiling up at her mother, a little boy staring in the window of the museum.

            I made it down the street before I called Daniel.

            “I’m actually not far. Are you tired from walking?”

            We decided to meet at Corona Heights, and walk through the park for a little while before we had lunch on Castro.

            Biting into my sandwich, Daniel set his water glass down. “So,” He cleared his throat, “No work today?”

            I nodded, “Joy gave me a new lens, so I was testing it out; Zeda covered my shift for me.”

            “Excellent.” He nodded, pulling out his look book and placing it on the table, “Now, would you like to help me decide what to put up in the gallery in Oakland?”

            “Oooh, yes!” I reached out, lifting the thick portfolio from his hands. Flipping through the pages, I heard Daniel speak eagerly.

            He smiled, “There’s this amazing piece by an artist who…” He flipped the page, showing a room filled with origami butterflies, “Cut into pin-up magazines and filled a room with these little guys.”

            “He tore apart Playboys?” I asked, laughing, “That’s awesome.”

            We looked it over, and I smiled at Daniel’s ecstatic behavior; he was a true artist. He found passion in the work of others, which I admired beyond belief. It’s one thing to find the good in your own work, but to see the potential in others, to me, was just an honorable quality all around.

            I went through more pages, and Daniel slowly began to change the subject from his art to my photographs.

            “Picking it up again?” He asked, watching me, gaging my reaction.

            “Yep.” I nodded, taking a deep breath “I needed to get rid of some of this extra energy I seem to be building up.”

            Daniel nodded slowly “Just be careful, Abbie. Don’t work yourself too hard.”

            “Daniel…”

            “I know, you’re not a child.” He assured, patting my arm “But you’re still…still my daughter, and the only one I’ve got, so I worry about you. Your brothers worry, too.”

            “I know.” I said, biting into my club sandwich “Doctor J said there wasn’t anything specific to worry about as of right now.”

            He looked down, “Just pay attention. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself, and don’t push.”

            Finishing up our early meal, we started back home.