Page 16 of No Bones About It

“No worries, we’ll wait,” someone from the group of people waiting behind her chimes in.

I nod with a weak smile and head inside. As I brew a cup of coffee, I realize this is actually a great opportunity. I can fulfill what I said about this being a part of my photography business and have a welcome change in subject matter. I was getting a little salty about photographing happy couples and families while my own life was so lonely.

Now, I’ll get to photograph Mr. Bonejangles and people who love Halloween. A slow smile spreads across my face as I realize not only could this really work, but this will be fun. A well-deserved change of pace. Besides, it won’t last long. How many people will really come?

While the coffee brews, I head to the garage and sort through the box of carefully curated outfits I had organized into bags for the month. A small twinge of regret hits me as I let go of my dreams for dressing him up everyday and instead think about what will photograph the best.

A lot of the outfits were just one or two little things. If the line outside is anything to go by, these pictures will generate enough money that I could go all out on props. I see a lot of time searching for inspiration and shopping online in my future.

But for today, I circle back to the beanie, scarf, and the giant PSL latte cup. It’s the most complete outfit I have for him, and I know people will love it.

By the time I’ve wolfed down a bagel and burnt my tongue on my coffee, I’m shocked by the line that has assembled. I drag the ladder back out of my garage and set it up in front of BJ to start dressing him.

“Alright, big guy. I know we had a whole month of outfits planned, but there’s been a slight change of plans. The good news is, I’ll be looking at you all day long,” I tell him as I wind the scarf around his neck.

He gives me an LED wink, and I laugh.

“The bad news is, so will everyone else. I’ll get us some private time as soon as I can though. Promise.” I take one more minute and cock my head as I stare at him in his beanie and scarf, a smile blooming on my face. “You really are a handsome fellow.”

When I’m climbing down, I hear someone calling my name from the gate. I leave the ladder up in case people want to stand on it and head out to see who is here now.

Opening the gate, I smile to see Dawn on the other side.

“Damn Tori, everyone wants a piece of this,” she says.

I keep the smile pinned on my face and push the disappointment over my carefully laid plans aside. This is a good thing, I tell myself. How can I be disappointed over doing the exact thing I said I want to do—spread Halloween happiness.

“Yeah, I just wasn’t ready. I don’t have props or pricing or anything,” I reply.

“What can the Spooky Bitches do to help out?” she asks.

Her question stumps me. I’ve never had help before. I’ve been a one woman show my entire career. Even my ex never helped with set up or tear down or the million other things I could have used a photography assistant for. He had made it clear that he wasn’t going to help me with my business, and I didn’t have the funds to support hiring an assistant. Without one, I couldn’t really scale up either.

It was always a weird limbo to be stuck in—I needed to make more money to make more money. With that in mind, I reply, “I don’t know that I can pay anyone just yet.”

Dawn wrinkles her nose. “Spooky Bitches is a sisterhood. We support each other with the only expectation of whoever we help pays it forward. If we get pizza and beer, well that’s always a bonus for starving college students.”

I lean past her and look at the line that just keeps growing. “I don’t think that will be a problem. I’m thinking we charge twenty bucks for a pic and email the file.”

Looking over at how great BJ looks and how sad the ladder looks next to him I’m struck by inspiration. “Do you think someone can go pick up a couple hay bales and some pumpkins? I’d love to make this setup a little better.”

Dawn whips out her phone and her fingers fly across the screen. “Done.”

“I guess we’re doing this,” I say and wave the first person in line forward.

Chapter

Eight

The days pass by in a blur. Instead of the photography assistant I’ve always wanted, I now have a squad. Complete with matching shirts. Which is a good thing because I never would have survived without them.

Going viral has brought a lot of… stuff with it. And everyday brings something new. The crowds are mostly pleasant and well-behaved. What started as a line and a ladder has grown into a full backyard setup including lighting, a porta potty in my front yard, and a well organized check in and check out process.

There’s a rental company currently setting up outdoor tents in my backyard and so we can move the hay bales and other backdrop items inside overnight in case of storms. We’ve been spoiled with beautiful weather, and the golden hour sunset pictures have been some of my best work.

I’m also incredibly inspired by the subject matter. Although I’m loving the cash flow and meeting the obligation of actually using BJ as a photo prop, I’m starting to resent everything but him.

My legs hurt, my fingers are going numb from overuse, my lawn has been destroyed, and even the lovely Spooky Bitches are starting to grate on my nerves with their constant helpful presence. This is all compounded by the guilt I feel for being annoyed instead of appreciative.