The Man Behind the Camera

The witness-form held its shattered camera level with Tomás’s face.

In the lobby glass, its body wore the outline of Edwin’s coat. The scarred hand around the camera was Edwin’s, down to the chipped ring. The figure did not move when Tomás did. Its reflected lens followed him across the lobby all the same.

“Everybody out of the glass,” Ruth said. She pulled a report folder from under her arm and held it up between Tomás and the reflection. “Iris, take Edwin into the hall.”

Edwin stayed where he was. “It wants him.”

“Yes,” Iris said. She kept her eyes on the reflection, not Tomás. “We noticed.”

Ruth’s folder hid the glass for a moment. When she lowered it, the witness-form was still there. Its camera had tilted to keep Tomás in the center.

Tomás had his own camera in hand. He’d brought it in from his truck when the lobby reflection appeared again, as if having a proper camera might make him more useful. His thumb rested on the shutter. He looked down at it, then at the polished counter where the witness-form had found another angle.

“Don’t take its picture,” Iris said.

“I know.” He lowered the camera. His voice stayed even, but his fingers tightened around the grip. “I know what happens when we give it an image.”

Ruth set the report folder on the counter. “Then tell me what happened. Plainly.”

A dry click came from the glass.

The camera in the reflection had no lens left to close. Still, a square of white began to emerge from the slot beneath it. The paper slid onto the counter, though there was no camera there to eject it.

Tomás stepped toward it. Iris caught his sleeve.

He looked at her hand. She released him at once.

“I’ll read it,” he said.

The picture was still pale when he picked it up by the edges. The image gathered in the center first: Tomás in the lobby, standing where he stood now, his real camera raised to his eye. Behind him, Edwin was seated in one of the waiting chairs. The reflection showed the witness-form in the glass, its broken camera aimed at Tomás’s back.

The block letters beneath the image came in last.

DESIGNATED WITNESS: TOMÁS REYES.

Tomás kept holding the photograph. Ruth moved to his side, trying to see the lower edge. Iris watched his face instead. He had photographed hundreds of dead people, and he knew what a camera did to a person when everyone in the room agreed the picture was the important thing.