He watched Mister Grinn, open his mouth, with a tearing noise that made him want to vomit.
Not once was Will able to scream as he saw the mouth of Mister Grinn consume him.
A second later, his world went dark.
The Last Photo of Dr. Graham
The front door slammed shut, startling the doctor. He turned around and faced a man in a black suit.
"Good evening, Dr. Graham." He said quietly, "Did I startle you?"
Dr. Graham quickly set down his supplies and stared at the man in the suit, as though he couldn't believe he was really there.
"No, not at all."
The doctor trembled as he checked his pocket watch, and turned nervously back to his guest.
"Can I help you, Mr. Donaldson?"
The man in the black suit looked around Dr. Graham's shop. On an ordinary day, the shop was crowded with customers from all over the city, the state, and now the entire United States. People came for miles to have their photograph taken in his humble store. Photographers were not difficult to find, but Dr. Graham offered something a little different.
"The mayor sent me, Dr. Graham," said Donaldson, trying to sound casual. "He was becoming worried about you, and so was everyone else. You were supposed to appear at city hall at seven o'clock this evening for your party. It's currently 7:45, and yet, here you are. And you seem to be in quite a rush to leave. Are you going somewhere?"
"Yes. I am. A client in? New York, wishes to see me right away." Dr. Graham continued to tremble as he packed his supplies into a suitcase.
"You seem nervous, Dr. Graham. Is everything alright?"
"Yes, yes. Everything is fine."
"Really?" Donaldson took a few more steps inside. "Well, I'm surprised you would turn down a party with the mayor for some client in New York. Does it have something to do with the photograph?"
The doctor turned to him, looking very afraid. Donaldson added softly, "You're not having problems with your wonderful camera, are you, Dr. Graham?
Dr. Graham had, in his possession, a camera that he built himself. This camera took photographs just as well as the finest cameras in existence. However, Dr. Graham's camera had the remarkable talent of taking photographs from twenty-four hours in the future. He simply pointed the camera at his subject, snapped the picture, and after developing the film into a photograph, he had a snapshot of where the subject would be and what they would be doing, exactly one day from the time the picture was taken. Selling these snapshots to eager customers had earned him a remarkable living, and a reputation across the city.
Over Dr. Graham's store was a large sign that read "Doctor Geoffrey Graham's Photo-Fortunes: Est. 1922". While his photography was sufficient, it was the element of fortune that made his business thrive. With his long white hair, his faded brown suit, and his strange mood swings, it was easy for patrons to dismiss him as a charlatan, a mad scientist, or just a crazy old man. In the past few months, however, Dr. Graham's accurate predictions made believers out of even the firmest skeptics.
It was not until tonight, he realized, it had also earned him a few enemies.
"My camera is just fine, Mr. Donaldson." Said the doctor, trying to remain calm. "I'm having a few problems with the development process, however."
"Does this mean the city will not get to see your fortune?" Asked Donaldson.
"I'm afraid not sir. We'll have to try it again some other time. Right now, I desperately need to get to New York. A very wealthy patron is offering me a great sum of money for a prediction. So, if you don't mind, I'd like very much to finish preparing. Good night, Mr. Donaldson."
"Just one moment, doctor." He said. The doctor was obviously both scared and flustered, but he wasn't going to get rid of him that easy.
"Now, you know very well I was one of your most outspoken opponents when you first opened your? business, a couple years ago."
Dr. Graham looked at him, remembering bitterly.
"As I recall, you dismissed my work as 'cheap parlor tricks offered to a gullible crowd by an equally senile old man'."
Mr. Donaldson was one of the mayor's most trusted advisors. When word had gotten out of the doctor's "Photo-Fortunes", the mayor sent Donaldson to investigate. It seemed obvious to him, at the time anyway, that it was just another scam, a mountebank aimed at foolish citizens too eager to believe in fortunetelling.
"That is true," Donaldson admitted with a nod. "However, I began to think there might be more to your methods when your predictions became more public."
Donaldson walked towards Graham as if trying to trap him against the back wall of the shop.
"I remember reading stories about your predictions in the newspaper. I read the story of the young girl who saw herself being saved from a collision with an automobile in one of your photographs. This eventually came true. I read that you were in a bit of trouble when one of your patrons, an elderly man, saw himself at the bottom of the river. That night, he committed suicide by jumping from a bridge. You were under suspicion until you photographed the mayor's youngest son. When you correctly predicted he would not die of his pneumonia, he was so thrilled that he made you a city hero, is that not correct, doctor?"
"It is." Said Dr. Graham, checking his watch again.
"This is why the mayor threw this party at city hall for you. You even had the courtesy of letting the mayor use your camera. He took a picture of you at exactly 8:00 p.m. last night, and you were going to reveal to everyone your photo-fortune. I know it's only 7:50 right now, but I'm eager to find out what has? developed."
Dr. Graham seemed to turn pale for a moment, but he said nothing as he looked straight at Donaldson.
"Tell me, doctor, are there any predictions that have not come to pass?"
Donaldson could tell breathing was becoming more difficult for the doctor, as though the walls were closing in on him.
"No," he said.
"No? All of the predictions in your photos have come to pass? Not one has been wrong yet?"
The doctor inhaled with great effort and shook his head.
"Not one."
He turned back to his desk to pack his case.
"Excuse me, Mr. Donaldson. I'd hate to be rude, but I really must leave, immediately."
Donaldson walked up behind him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and forced him around. The old doctor held up his arms as if trying to defend himself.
"You're thinking too small!" He said, his temper mounting, "Don't you see what an incredible opportunity you have here? The camera really works. You can predict the future, and yet you practically give your predictions away. You could sell them for millions. Or, even better, you could put it to use elsewhere. The stock market, doctor! Take a photo of a man before he goes to the trading floor and find out which will rise and which will fall, tilt things in your favor."
"That is not what I made it for!" Stammered Dr. Graham. "The camera is meant to help people, not take advantage of them! It should be used to let them know what's in their future so that they may?"
"You old fool!" Donaldson pulled the doctor and shoved him back against the desk, causing several items to fall to the ground. "If you won't put this marvelous device to use, I will. Tell me where it is! Where is the camera?"
To his amazement, the doctor pulled out his watch and checked the time once again. He felt him trembling in his hands as he struggled for air. The doctor seemed to panic even more once he checked the time.
Questions raced through Donaldson's head, as he held the eccentric doctor in place. Why was he checking the time? Why did he seem so nervous? Why was he so eager to leave?
Unless?.
Donaldson looked at Dr. Graham right in the eye. "It worked, didn't it? The photo-fortune, it developed. And you saw something you didn't want to come to pass."
Dr. Graham said nothing; he only looked at him with fearful eyes, his watch held firmly in his trembling hand.
"You saw me, did
n't you? You saw me taking the camera from you. You expected to see yourself showing the photo at city hall. But instead, you're here at your shop, with me taking the camera. It's almost eight o'clock, that has to be it!"
Suddenly, in a burst of energy, the doctor lunged forward, knocking Donaldson backward and pinning him against the wall. Even more mechanical pieces fell to the floor, as Donaldson tried to get his bearings. The doctor ran for the exit.
"Help! Police! Police!"
Donaldson ran after him and caught the doctor just as he reached the door. Pulling on the back of his suit, he yanked the doctor back into the shop until he stumbled onto the floor. Donaldson stood over him as he backed away toward the back of the shop.
"Give me that camera, doctor!"
Graham struggled to his feet and ran toward the back.
"No! I can't!"
The doctor reached behind the curtain and tried pulling something from the back. Donaldson could not see what it was, but the doctor seemed to be struggling with it. He guessed that it must have been a weapon of some sort, a baseball bat, or a rifle. The doctor was trying to defend himself.
Donaldson was ready to fight back. He grabbed a heavy pipe that had fallen from the desk and charged the doctor. He brought the pipe back as he saw the terrified expression on Dr. Graham's face. He heard a cracking sound as the pipe made contact with the doctor's skull. He saw the doctor fall to the ground, holding in his hands not a weapon, but his camera on its tripod.
He'd taken the camera out to try and protect it. Before Donaldson could react, the camera fell to the floor, smashing in half as it made contact. Broken parts littered the floor around the camera. Dr. Graham's body lay next to it, blood spilled across the floor.
Donaldson dropped the pipe and took a step back.
"No! This can't be?"
The marvelous camera, and the man who invented it, both were destroyed. Gone forever.
Donaldson looked down at the remains of the camera. He wondered for a moment if he could repair it. The parts appeared to be the same as those in the doctor's shop.
At that moment, a thought occurred to him.
He looked up and ran to the desk. Maybe the doctor left plans to the camera somewhere. Maybe he could still rebuild it. He searched through his suitcase feverishly. There were parts, mechanical pieces, some clothing, but no plans.
Just then, at the bottom of the case, Donaldson found a photograph, a newly developed photo-fortune. He studied it carefully.
When he saw the image, his blood ran cold.
In the photo, the doctor lay down on the floor, in the ruins of his shop, blood flowing from his skull. Over him, Donaldson saw himself, being dragged out of the shop by two police officers. From the look on his own face, he seemed to be screaming hysterically.
It was the photo of Dr. Graham taken by the mayor at city hall, twenty-four hours earlier. Donaldson took out his watch.
It was exactly 7:59 p.m.
Sirens started blazing from outside on the street. Donaldson turned around just in time to hear someone coming up to the shop. They knocked loudly and demanded that someone open the door.
Donaldson backed up against the wall of the shop. He did not need to answer the door to know what was in his future.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading!
If you enjoyed these three short stories, you're in luck. A book of short fiction is available at your favorite retailer. It contains seventeen short stories, including the three in this collection, and it is called "Occurrences". Also, check out my first novel, "The City of God". If you would like, keep up with all my endeavors at my website; justinmdnelson.com, and subscribe to my mailing list while you're there.
Thanks again.
-Justin M.D. Nelson
April 2016
About the Author
Justin M.D. Nelson is an actor and a writer currently living in Minneapolis, Minnesota. His short story "The Last Photo of Dr. Graham" won first place in the East Grand Forks Campbell Library's Short Story Contest in 2012, and was published in the Exponent. His short story "Last Day at the Beach" was published in the spring of 2014 in Straylight Magazine. That same year, he published his first novel, "The City of God". Please feel free to contact the author at his website and browse his other works.
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