Disclaimer: This story was inspired by a drawing of Pendergast and his wife I saw on DeviantArt recently and the fact that my photography teacher was teaching his students how to take pictures of people in the studio. Aloysius Pendergast and Helen Pendergast belong to Douglas Preston and Lincoln child. Emily, her father, and Samantha belong to me. The picture that inspired this belongs to its owner. Hope you enjoy this story and review/criticism is appreciated. : 3
She knew this was going to be a challenge the moment she saw a picture of her upcoming clients. She sat in her father's studio and looked at a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Pendergast. The studio was only two rooms not including the tiny male and female public bathrooms. The front room was the public area where the customer would come in and Samantha, the secretary and teller of McFarlane studio's, would start talking to them in her southern drawl account with her body behind the glass case full of old fashioned 35mm SLR cameras. The walls and floor in that room were made of redwood; if she remembered correctly, and seemed to give the place a cabin feel to the customers. The back, where the studio is in, is made of cement and gray mostly. She admitted that the room seemed dull compared to the front since the only colors where the backdrops and the props within the vicinity of the studio lights. Her desk was made of the same wood most tables at the public schools were made from. She didn't mind that though since it did have two metals drawers attached to it on both far sides of the desk. The leg room was quite nice since she loved space and allowed her to cross her legs comfortably as she looked at the room around her. Everything else, including her laptop, were dull shades of black which made her if black would get any duller. She remembered then that she had business to do and looked back at the pictures of the rich clients.
The woman sat on a stool while the man stood beside her in an undertaker like outfit which made her wonder if he could even crush on a girl. He just seemed so aloof and cold to her with those sliver tinted blue eyes staring at her from within the confines of the photo. She wished she had never taken the job and had just stuck to taking family pictures at those holiday parties every year. But if she was ever going to be a big time photographer, she knew she had to do this. After all, if this FBI agent was as famed as people said he was, maybe he could get her name around those photography studios and she could finally get a chance to become as great as Dorotha Lange or Ansel Adams.
Her father, a small time photographer in the Bourbon area of New Orleans, came towards her from the darkroom in the back. She wished they would go digital like everyone else so colored photos wouldn't be so hard to develop! All those steps involved and always having to worry about the temperature of the water, making sure none of the chemicals were mixed together, and having to make sure the fingers rarely came in contact with the undeveloped film.
"Emily, Mr. Pendergast has phoned us saying that they will be here soon. That means they would be here anytime now! Why have you been procrastinating on making a setting for the lovely couple?" Her father, Jonathan, asked worriedly as he started moving stuff around with his face full of unnecessary nervousness.
She sighed as she kept on sitting there, trying to imagine the setting she would put for this 'lovely' couple. Unlike the man, the woman wore brown clothes and was in a business suit type deal like the man was.
I wonder if they're professional even in their private lives? I would hate to be the lover of a guy like that.
Before she could get the exact image in mind, Samantha knocked on the door and Emily knew what that meant.
"They're here already? Dang it! Emily, go answer the door please while I try to save this shoot!" Her father yelled loudly as he ran around like a person with one too many zaps of lightening.
This made Emily sigh again as she sat up and walked over to the door, opening it slowly and looking around the door to see who was there. She could see Samantha with her long blonde hair and dark green eyes, holding the reflectors for the shoot and saw a black suit in her side vision. Samantha smiled at Emily and walked into the studio to make sure everything was peachy. Then she walked out of the studio, handing Emily the reflectors and went back to her station behind the desk. Emily knew for a long time that Samantha didn't exactly like Emily. After all, Emily did take the position Samantha wanted which was studio photographer. But the rivalry between them never grew horrible or too unbearable since Samantha was not the fiery kind of person who gets upset when they lose. Once she made sure she had a good grip on the reflectors, her head cranked up as far as it would go to see the face of Mr. Pendergast.
I knew I was short, but this man makes me feel as small as an ant! And I though he looked tall in the photo!
"You must be Mr. Pendergast. I'm Emily McFarlane. I'll be your photographer for today sir." Emily told kindly to him as she offered her hand to shake and was able to compose herself better than she thought she could.
Mr. Pendergast smiled slightly and shook the offered hand, his hand cool compared to her warm and slightly sweaty ones. When she realized how dry his hands and the possible sweat she was getting on his, she took her hand away and chuckled nervously as she opened the door completely.
"I'm sorry about that sir. I shouldn't have done that. Anyway, looks like everything is set up back here. I hope it's to your liking. Whenever your wife arrives, we will begin the shoot." Emily told with a hint of nervousness in her voice as Mr. Pendergast seemed to scan the area with a calm and calculating look.
"Is your settings always this elaborate Miss McFarlane?" Mr. Pendergast calmly asked; a hint of mirth in his voice as she turned to where he was looking at.
She noticed that her father must have decided that a rich mansion's sitting room would be the perfect place for a rich couple like the Pendergasts. To Emily though, it was just a disaster waiting to happen and definitely didn't fit the looks of either Mr. Pendergast or his wife. The colors of the rugs and the walls were too bright in contrast to the earthen dark colors that the couple seemed to favor. She wished she had stayed long enough to stop her father from committing such an audacity. Then again, she had to commend him for his quickness and use of detail on his photo settings. After all, that was one of the things that attracted people to his studio other than his old traditional ways.
"No. I usually prefer to set the setting up once the clients get here. My father seemed to have other ideas though." Emily answered with a sigh at the end, noticing now that Pendergast seemed to be scrutinizing the objects and the backdrop of the setting her father created.
The look of his eyes made her feel off and somewhat intimidated, glad that it wasn't her setting he seemed to be so focused on. She felt somewhat bad for feeling such gladness, but she knew that she never liked it when people didn't like her works. She didn't have much confidence in herself and criticism to her was just only proving her point when she believed she wasn't good at anything. For that reason, she didn't tell him to stop and just sat in her 'photo' chair as she dobbed it long ago. Soon, she noticed the man had stopped and chose the antique chair as his choice of sitting for now. She looked at the clock after he did and noticed that his wife was quite late, allowing her to know that this was going to be a long one.
"Miss McFarlane, may I ask a favor of you?" He asked calmly as he looked at her with those strange, but beautiful eyes.
Hmmm, if only that look wasn't so creepy and the fact he's married…I might actually consider him a potential lover, but probably nothing more than that.
"Yes sir? Do you want me to change the background?"Emily asked curiously as she tilted her head and sat Indian style in her favorite chair.
"When I made the appointment for this shoot, it was before my wife and I went to Africa on a hunting trip….and…she's not going to be here today….so…." Mr. Pendergast told her softly, his words almost seeming forced as she wondered what he was getting at.
She knew there were two possibilities as to why the wife wasn't going to show up. One, something happened to them in Africa that caused their marriage to be estranged now and thus are in the process of getting a divorce. The other possibility was that his wife was not among the living anymore. She didn't want to ask him what the reason was since his eyes portrayed his sadness at memories that must be coming through his mind right now.
"So you want to cancel the shoot?" Emily asked calmly as her hopes at proving her abilities as a photographer to high clientele just went down the drain.
"Yes….but I want you to do something for me. I'll pay you for your services of course, but I would greatly appreciate it if you restore this photo for me." Pendergast asked her calmly, with a hint of hope and kindness in his voice as he took a photo out of his jacket pocket and placed it gently in Emily's open hand.
Emily looked at the photo and noticed it was the same one that they had gotten in the email and that she had printed out on regular paper so they could at least identify the couple when they came in. She noticed the picture looked weathered and had a corner turned off, showing it had been handled many of times and possibly has been stuck in tons of places over its possible years of existence.
Emily looked up at the man and smiled warmly at him; understanding the need to have the last proofs of his wife and their happy marriage restored to its former glory even if it was only in a photo. She walked over and placed it on her desk, making sure that it was nearby her laptop so she could remember to do it.
"Do you have any preferences on the restoration sir?" Emily asked kindly as she noticed the man had a small smile on his face which made her feel extremely happy for some reason.
"No. Just makes sure it looks as close to the original as you can make it. If you need a description of...my wife…please let me know. When you are done with the photo and I have confirmation of its restoration, then I'll pay you the money for that plus money for the shoot that I'm sorry to have cancelled so suddenly. "Pendergast answered politely as he turned himself towards the door.
She walked quickly after him and gripped his sleeve tightly, causing him to be stopped in his tracks. She felt her nervousness grow inside of her when Mr. Pendergast didn't' seem to be doing anything at all. For a few seconds, she thought she had either made him extremely mad or that he somehow had died with his body standing up. Then when his head turned towards her, she felt a sigh of relief almost escape her as she let go of his sleeve. The moment she did that though, she started regretting giving into the urge to state her curiosity. She breathed in a couple of times slowly and soon gained enough composure to ask him her question.
"I'm sorry to bother you Mr. Pendergast, but why isn't your wife…going to be here?" Emily asked curiously, nervousness obvious in the emotions coming through her voice. She noticed the sadness in his eyes more than she did earlier.
"Helen, my wife, is….dead…..Good day to you Miss McFarlane. I'll be expected the picture as soon as possible." Mr. Pendergast answered calmly, sadness in his voice, and walked out the door.
As she watched him walk away, Emily wanted to say sorry or say something to him to make that gloomy emotion leave him, but she knew she probably would have only made it worse. She walked over to her desk and sat down, glad her father and Samantha were out trying to find more darkroom chemicals. As she sat in a comfortable position in the chair, she picked up the photo slowly and decided to turn it to where the back faced her so she could see if there was anything written there. When she did notice the elegant handwriting, she felt tears come to her eyes as she read the words inscribed unto the picture's back.
My husband, Aloysius X.L Pendergast, and myself, Sept. 22 1992. Even though our bodies will return to the dust from wince it came, may our love forever burn like the embers of the eternal phoenix.
Helen Pendergast.
She now knew that this picture meant more than a physical proof of both of them being together. It probably was one of the last proofs that man had of the love that lived within them both. When she counted how far back September 24th was, she realized that it was only just six months ago to this date.
Wow….He is truly a strong man to be able to talk about her and not break into tears….I pray that someday his soul will find peace from his pain and possibly find love once again…..But this is no time to linger on such things… I have to do what he requested of me, so its time to get to work.
Emily scanned the picture into the laptop and opened up Photoshop once the picture was done scanning into the computer. She smiled warmly once again, her mind remembering images of her own late loved ones, as her fingers moved the keys and she let the tears fall down for herself and for a man named Aloysius X.L. Pendergast.