Camera Eye: London
The trans-Atlantic flight was long enough but it was when Olivia figured that her fox boyfriend who was also her employer was quite the restless one that she wished the Atlantic was a lot smaller. As smart and wonderful a male fox as he was, confining him a small space was not necessarily the brightest idea. To cure his restlessness, the vixen loaned him the book she was reading Walter Scott's "Ivanhoe"- in her mind Olivia could see traces of Rebecca in herself and her wonderful knight in shining armor (or in this case outlandish salmon-pink jacket and pants) was Jason Knobler. He was engrossed in the novel, reading it nonstop and for once, his restless mind was set at ease as the plane moved over a vast sea of unchanging blue. Finally, the plane moved over Britain just as Jason finished reading the classic tome.
"And what was your opinion of Rebecca and Ivanhoe's love?" she asked her boyfriend inquisitvely.
"Well, you know I just realized..." he said, causing the vixen's eyebrows to rise with anticipation "that if you rearrange all the letters by 'Ivanhoe by Walter Scott' that you get 'Novel by a Scottish writer'".
"So you spent hours looking at this book and THAT is the best you could come up with."
"Well, my major was not English Literature, my major was art. There are many places I'd rather be than confined on a metal tube with a bunch of people who might be carrying some diseases. Not to mention the threat of hijacking. And who's to say this plane isn't gonna blow up into a million tiny pieces and kill us all." A lioness nun studying her Bible shushed him. There was no point in arguing- his aloof, eccentric nature was one of the things that attracted Olivia to Jason but at the same time, it was also the thing which made the two very much an odd couple. Or perhaps if he wasn't so bored with having to be on this airline maybe he would have offered a more satisfying answer.
The landing gear lowered as the plane prepared to land at Heathrow Airport. No one wanted off the plane more than Jason and Olivia so they could begin to take more photos of London and meet the wealthy subscribers of "The Camera Eye" whose large purchases for European museums and private collections supplied with Mr. Knobler the vast amounts of money he now owned. The money they sent (and would hopefully continue to send) funded Jason's lavish lifestyle and these trips to exotic destinations where more photos could be made.
"You do realize that the German couple will be waiting for us, Wolfgang and Henriette," Jason said, an air of anticipation in his voice. "I'm not the kind of person who flies to Europe alot- too expensive, too crowded, almost no open space. But for one of the few trips I'll be taking, these wealthy supporters deserve an audience." Wolfgang and Henriette were two of his most ardent supporters- she was a she-wolf and a former singer with the flair for the dramatic. (She still gave performances even in her 50s.) And he was also a former singer but turned away from that profession in the 1980's to begin theatrical set design and later became curator for a small Munich museum. The photos Jason and Olivia revealed that even in their old age, they remained quite handsome for an elderly wolf couple.
"Remember when we meet them, you have to be modewst when you tell them that YOU were the one who made the photographs. They still think I shot them. So you have to take the credit for those photos... but do so modestly." How exactly one claims credit for something modestly is just an impossible demand but Olivia would have to try as Jason once again adjusted his belt nervously waiting for the passengers ahead of him to leave so he could get the luggage which included clothes and expensive German-designed cameras, a gift from Wolfgang.
Though new anti-terrorism protocols prevented meeting someone at the gate, the elderly wolf couple was waiting for the foxes when they reached baggage claim, which included additional clothing ("Traveler's disease is a bitch" Jason had told Olivia before they left.) They were as plainly-dressed as Jason was flamboyant. He was wearing a drab gray business suit, with white button up shirt and black pants which nicely framed his gray fur and tail. About the only thing which broke up this lack of color was an electric-blue tie which streaked down his shirt. And she was wearing a dress and a Jackie Kennedy-style pillbox hat the exact same shade of pink that Jason's business suit was, causing Olivia to giggle.
'So vhat is your purpose for thees treep?" Wolfgang might have spoken perfect English but his accent clearly needed reduction. Thankfully, whenever the wolf launched into something that could not quite be understood or even into German, his wife was there to translate.
"Well, we are collecting photos of New York and London for a double feature in next month's magazine. My assistant's in charge at the New York offices but for now, we're doing some sightseeing, some photography and also meeting with sponsors such as yourself and your gorgeous wife. I do have one thing to say though- I'm not the photographer- she is." Jason said, turning his eyes to his employee/ love interest.
"I'm Olivia Johnson and I did all those photos. Or most of them anyway. Those shots of the MIdwest..."
Henriette interrupted. "Wow. I would never have guessed that. Were you the one who photographed the temple in Independence. Because that was one of he thorns in our business relationship- Jason's Mormonism, our Catholicism. But once again, art conquers all barriers."
Eventually the conversation turned to areas of the next photo shoot. The Westminster Abbey was definitely a place of interest as were the markets, which were a continual street festival/bazaar which never ended in London. Wolfgang said something in German, which Olivia assumed was "good luck" or some such well-wishing. The rest of the day went by in a blur, in part due to the jet lag and crossing so many time zones. But when they woke up at 7:00 a.m. the next morning, Jason awoke his wife having found the hour when the entirety of the abbey would be lit by the rising sun. Green and gray washed in the early-morning fog, a wispy white veil which wrapped the massive church and gave the photo, taken with a wide-angle lens and camera, a dreamlike and transcendent beauty.
Next, a crowd of unsuspecting passers-by caught in the middle of a disinterested walk down one of London's older streets- these men and women of all different species, looked so oblivious to what was going on around them, so lost in their own worlds, that the picture looked like George Segal's plaster statues. And yet this "stiff upper lip" that the British carry with them was a source of pride, and for their apparent disinterest in the surroundings, Jason with his typical vulpine wit would remark that they were "showing British pride and it prevails alive in the streets of London."
But in truth, the people of London with their charming "Ellos?" and "Mornin' guv'nahs? and their fondness for tea and their love of soccer had much that would make an American raised in the Midwest jealous. On the other hand, even with their calming rains, their phlegmatic character, but unlike Americans, there was some indescribable light that they missed, like you would see in every U.S. city from Anaheim to New Haven.
The pavements of London may teem with intense energy as they did when Jason and Olivia were taking photos of the markets and yet, they were never off-kilter. Amidst a violent sea of emotion and color, the city itself remained calm and collected.
And as she took her photos of Big Ben, Parliament, and the Eye, and those iconic "Mind the Gap" signs on the subways, she felt this sense of possibilities inherent in London and what could happen there. But in an unfortunate meeting with soccer hooligans, she realized that even the most sane Londoners have their problems, just as residents of every major city. But these were all worthwhile photo opportunities for the vixen and her boyfriend because after all, the focus is sharp in the city.