Better Than Picture Perfect

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Better Than Picture Perfect Page 8

by Stephanie Perry Moore


  “I do,” I said, finally owning it.

  “We have a job you can bid for,” Slade said.

  “What’s that mean?” I asked.

  Sloan, Miss-Know-It-All, stepped up and said, “Bidding is when you submit your resume with everybody else’s, but in this case you might be the only one who submits.”

  “Submits for what?” I questioned.

  “Our homecoming week got moved to the game coming up. Since we’re a new school, it can’t be later like normal. The school is having a hard time trying to find somebody to be the photographer. The principal just sent out an e-mail asking that if we knew anyone to have him or her contact the school.”

  “This could be perfect,” I said. “Val and Freddie and some of the others need a job, I can split the profits with them. I would just need to cover the cost for the materials and buy the photo paper. But backgrounds, lights, stands, and everything else I got that here. Thank you guys!”

  My sisters were confused about whom I was talking about, but were still so excited. Actually, I was excited as well.

  Shelby rushed in through the bathroom and immediately pulled out a bunch of clothes from my closet. “You got to have a photo shoot.”

  “I’m the photographer, what are you talking about?”

  Shelby insisted, “You’re going to show me how to hold a camera. I’m going to snap a couple pictures of you, we’re going to send it over to Spencer, and he’s ready to design you some business cards and some price packages so when you go in tomorrow morning and you meet with Mr. Garner, you’ll be ready to go.”

  “But what’s it going to be called?” Slade said.

  “Ansli Photography,” Yuri uttered with excitement, as we all were shocked by the quiet sister’s comment.

  “I can help you with the write up explaining what your company is and why you should have it. And why don’t you call Hugo? Get him to sketch a logo he can send over. Or Spencer can do something on the computer. Your choice,” Shelby said, committed to developing my brand.

  “But quick, we’ve got to get busy.”

  Working with the four of them felt so great. Somehow we came up with aqua and black as my colors. The picture we settled on was me holding my camera and just half of my face. It was such a cool image. Ansli Photography had it going on. And I didn’t want to bug Hugo because he was so busy coming up with mural designs to show, that I just let Spencer choose me something. What he sent over captured everything I was thinking.

  My sisters were so excited to show my mom what we designed when she came home. When she called me into her bedroom, I didn’t know what she was going to think. Our relationship had been a little estranged. We could always talk about everything, but over the last few weeks, we hadn’t talked about anything. Yet there I was, a daughter really seeking her mother’s permission to carry out a dream.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about all this before we dived into it, but I want you to like it,” I honestly uttered, showing her the design.

  She smiled and said, “If you like it, I love it. I’m proud of you, and I know you’re going to do a good job.”

  Three days later, it was actually homecoming. I had gotten the gig. Freddie and Val were working for me, and everyone loved the pictures Ansli Photography took. I was in my element, making sure I was helping everyone else look beautiful. The feeling of seeing my business come to fruition, going from a dream to a reality, felt awesome.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ADORABLE

  Between my sisters, Freddie, Val and other helpers, my first night of business went off without a hitch. Everybody got receipts for the money they paid. In this world of social media—in addition to taking down their information—I also had a box to check if they would allow me to post their picture on my Instagram page for Ansli Photography. Shelby made sure everyone checked it. With a school of over 3,000, I took 1,672 pictures. I was getting tons of likes because everyone wanted to check out everyone else’s photo and, of course, see his or her own. The comments were uplifting.

  “Ansli, you are so good at this. Keep it up!”

  “Where have you been all my life, Ansli Sharp? You make me look good.”

  “Ansli, your prices rock! Everybody else just be rippin’ us off for bad pictures.”

  “Go Ansli! You make the ugly people look good.”

  “I hope Ansli Photography is doing prom.”

  “Could you cover my sweet-sixteen party?”

  “Ansli Sharp, could you give me the number of the guy who’s in picture fifteen?”

  I couldn’t stop looking at the comments. Even the next week in class I went from just being one of the Sharp sisters to having my own identity. People wanted to be my friend. People told me I inspired them to pursue their passions. It was unreal, but it was real at the same time. I wasn’t even paying attention, and I didn’t even see Katera in my classroom talking to my teacher until my name was called.

  My teacher said, “Ansli, someone wants to see you outside.”

  The girl had been missing in action for a week. There were so many people I had on the lookout for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Now she was trying to find me? What the heck was up with her?

  “What do you want, Katera?” I said with big attitude when we were alone in the hall.

  “I just want you to hear me out.”

  Agitated, I huffed, “I let you stay at my house so you can rest, shower, and be safe. You have somebody steal from my family, and you want me to hear you out? Where were you when the cops came? Where have you been the last week? Why do you think I want to hear from you now?”

  “Because I need to apologize.”

  “What? You want me to be sympathetic to you again? Bring you over my house so y’all can steal the new things we had to replace? You’ve got the wrong fool. You already had me once, and shame on you for taking advantage of someone trying to be your friend. I cared.”

  “I know, but I was forced into doing it. When you saw me the Friday before last, and I had that black eye, I didn’t show you these.” Katera pulled up her sleeve and showed me three little circle marks on her hands.

  Mortified, I asked, “Are those burns?”

  “Yep, from a cigarette. I was forced to do what I did, bullied by these guys. They break you off a little piece of money, I guess to eat. To have the lady you met, Momma Dee, not be tortured, I did what they said. It took a lot of friends to save my tail, but even after I did that, they still roughed me up when we got home.”

  I was really falling for what Katera was telling me. I didn’t want too, but I had no choice. As mad as I was at her, now my heart was pounding in agony hearing all that she was enduring.

  Katera voiced, “And I can’t take it anymore. I can’t watch them hurt anyone anymore. I want to turn them in.”

  I never even imagined a few weeks ago that anything could be worse than domestic violence. Hearing the stories Shelby told me of Spencer’s mom being abused by her husband, of the Sydnee Sheldon designer being abused by her fiancé, and of one of the high school girls taking physical assaults from her boyfriend. But just pure violence was way worse, and it needed to be stopped. I yelled into the classroom that I was going to the office, and the teacher shook his head.

  “We’re here to see Principal Garner,” I said to the secretary.

  “Do you have a pass from your teacher?”

  “My teacher said it was okay,” I said, trying to hold my composure.

  I know she was just doing her job, but we were in the office during a class period. Whether we had a pass or not, if we were in here to see the principal, it was important. We didn’t need to be blocked.

  “Well, my rules are, if you don’t have a pass…”

  Katera hit the desk. “Sometimes you need to use common sense and bend the rules before you get fired.”

  “What’s going on out here?” the principal came out and said.

  “We need to see you, sir, it’s pretty important,” I said.

&n
bsp; “Well, you didn’t say it was pretty important,” the secretary said.

  Katera put her hand up in front of the lady’s face.

  “I need you to call my dad, sir,” I said when we got into his office.

  Without hesitation Mr. Garner did. My father was there in about forty minutes with the police. They took down my statement about the warehouse I said I knew about. Katera gave details about two other warehouses. She named people but told the police that she wanted to be anonymous because she was scared for her life. When I was about to tell what they had done to her, she kicked me in the shin.

  “That’s all they need to know right now. The rest is private,” she said, letting me know without actually telling me that I didn’t need to say anything.

  My father and Mr. Garner thanked her for her strength. Later that night on the news my dad was credited for bringing down a big stolen goods ring as four suspects were being hauled off to jail.

  “If I was the Mayor of the good city of Charlotte, I vow to you that we’re going to help our homeless citizens so that they never have to feel bullied or pressured into turning to crime.”

  My dad didn’t just talk about change. He was about change. His caring spirit warmed my heart.

  “Thank you, Daddy, for coming,” I said as we pulled up at the group home where Freddie and Val lived.

  My dad didn’t come with press and cameras, he came with difference makers. He brought the sheriff and the director of Children and amily Services for the state. They were coming to investigate the claims that I’d alleged.

  “I can’t believe that you’re really here,” Val said as she opened the door and let me in with the important looking entourage.

  “I’m Ansli’s father, Mr. Sharp,” my dad explained.

  “He’s an attorney,” I said.

  “And I understand you guys have been taken advantage of in this group home. I’ve brought some people with me who can correct that. Who else is here with you guys?”

  “A few others who live here and the assistant lady in charge. Mr. Wheeler is gone, but he should be back in any minute,” Freddie said.

  “Well, let’s get busy,” the sheriff said. “Let’s take some statements. If there is anyone else here who wants to let us know what’s been going on, tell them to come down now.”

  All nine students who lived in the house and the assistant counselor came down to tell all. Freddie started, “When we get our checks from social security, or wherever people get checks from, we have to give some to Mr. Wheeler.”

  “What for?” the director asked.

  Another teen who lived there piped in and said, “What’s it not for? Toilet tissue, getting our clothes washed, water for baths … anything we need, he’s making us pay for it.”

  “Why hasn’t anyone reported it?” the assistant counselor said, looking surprised herself. “I didn’t know all that was going on until a couple weeks ago. A lot of teens came up and complained. I just got placed here, and once I started questioning Wheeler, he told me if I asked too many questions I wouldn’t have a job.”

  Freddie said, “That’s basically what he said to us. If we complained about paying, there is a list of kids waiting to get in here that would. I’ve been on the streets. I know how hard it is. The last place I wanted to go back to was being truly homeless. It’s one thing not to have parents, but at least we’re sort of a family. Even though the person who is supposed to be over us is completely taking advantage of us, I’ve got a few brothers and sisters here, and it’s more than what I had when I was on my own. If I have to give a few of the pennies the government gives me to keep it, then that’s just what I’ve been doing.”

  “You shouldn’t have to do that,” my father said.

  “Well, I see here that we’ve been sending him money to fix certain things in this house,” the director told us as he reviewed files in his hands.

  “That’s another problem,” Freddie said. “He’s got a new car, some new clothes, expensive cologne and everything else, but ain’t nothing been repaired around here. We can take a tour, and I can show you right now stuff that’s still broke. If he told you it’s been fixed, he’s lying.”

  The director held up a photo of the stove door attached. “He sent us pictures of stuff being fixed.”

  “I don’t know how,” Freddie said as he motioned for us to check things out for ourselves.

  We all followed Freddie. “See, the stove is broken.” The door fell right off of it. “In the pantry there is hardly any food. The toilet upstairs is broken. It was so hot in here, but now that fall is here, it’s no use to even getting the A/C.”

  When we were finished with the tour, the adults were seething with anger. The timing was perfect because Mr. Wheeler was walking in the door. He had the audacity to say, “The cops are here! Oh, my gosh. Which one of these kids did something? Mr. Director, hello! I have my assistant counselor here because I know I’m not supposed to leave the kids unsupervised, but she should be here. She’s here, right? Freddie, what did you guys do?”

  “They’re hungry. What time is dinner?” the director asked.

  “Well, with all due respect, sir, I need to find out why the cops are here and find out why they got in trouble then I’ll get them fed. These kids are resilient. I’m sure they cleaned out the pantry eating all the snacks.”

  “If you knew the pantry was empty, why didn’t you fill it back up?” the director questioned.

  “I was on my way to, but I got a text message that said the cops were here.”

  “Really, could I see your phone?” the director asked.

  Mr. Wheeler was dark as a tire, but he was turning as red as ketchup. He looked at me. “I know you. You-you don’t live here.”

  I said, “I told you I’d bring my father back.”

  “Yeah, did we have an appointment? Did I miss something?” Mr. Wheeler said.

  Coldly my dad said, “I wouldn’t help you even if I won the lottery.”

  “I don’t understand. What have these kids told you about me?” Mr. Wheeler started to panic.

  “Arrest him, Sherriff,” the director said.

  “Mr. Wheeler, come with us, please,” the sheriff said, stepping forward, cuffs in hand.

  He didn’t want to go calmly, but when the director started reading off the list of violations, he finally surrendered and was hauled away. The assistant counselor whom Freddie and Val liked was appointed to the newly opened position. They got the key to director’s bedroom that he kept locked up, and soon as we went inside, there were tons of food and money, and there was even a new stove purchased, but it had not been installed.

  My dad and the director took time to talk to all the kids, finding out what they needed, what their dreams and goals were, and trying to find ways to help them succeed. I don’t know how the press found out what was going on. Once the news channels got there, and with the director of Children and Family Services singing my father’s praises for cracking another case, my dad was interviewed.

  He didn’t take any of the credit though. He said, “I’ve got a daughter who cares, and I encourage all parents to listen to their children. We might want to protect them and keep them away from things we think will hurt them, but they’re stronger and more resilient than we know.”

  My dad hugged me. I truly felt his love. With cameras flashing all around me, I realized that was a moment I wanted to keep forever.

  I had never been more proud of a person than I was watching Hugo unveil the mural that he had done in the front hallway. Our principal let him do one to see how it went. The school board, local principals, some parents, and student leaders who were invited to the unveiling were all clapping at the magnificent creation that Hugo had done in two days.

  My dad didn’t even tell me where we were going after church. Hugo had asked him to make it a surprise, and I thought since it was my birthday, my parents were trying to do something special for me. After all, I was turning eighteen. Seeing Hugo’s creation was better
than any scrumptious dinner ever could be.

  “And see, I didn’t want this young man to do it. I’m just going to go ahead and admit it,” Mr. Garner said, being completely honest. “That’s why you gotta listen to these young people. He didn’t want to charge me anything just to give him a chance to do something, and he had a great point. We could have painted over it if I hated it, but the board and I have decided that we want you to do the other two murals. I think you’re going to like the amount you’re going to be paid.”

  He whispered something in Hugo’s ear. My boyfriend got ecstatic. Everyone wanted to congratulate him.

  People were mixing and mingling, and Hugo’s mom came over to me and said, “Thank you for helping my son. Not many help us, but you always believed in him. Thank you for caring about my son. I’ve always known he had talent, but seeing him actually doing it is better than anything I could have dreamed. I’m going to go back to school myself. I’m going to make something of me because Hugo shown me the way, and you’ve shown him the way. Bless you young girl.”

  My father talked some to his mom. My sisters talked to Hugo. Spencer was even there and told him how proud of him he was. I couldn’t say the two of them would be best buds, but now Hugo had money to take us out to dinner, and I could see he was proud.

  My mom came over to me and gave me a big hug, but her eyes were teary, and I didn’t understand. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your birthday. We’ve gotten you the gift we think you want,” she said, gripping me tighter.

  After all the cake and punch at the school, we were back to my house. My momma catered the dinner, and, yes, I liked to eat good, but it was more Yuri’s style with seven-course meals and all, but then two people whom I didn’t know came from out of nowhere. They were an elderly white couple. They were smiling my way, but I didn’t know them.

  “We’ve got your grandparents here from England, Ansli,” my mom said.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” my grandmother said with watery eyes.

 

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