Red Running Shoes - 14. Naked Men with Hats

Ten sharp and I stood in front of Sandro's shop, feeling like I was going to throw up. Why the hell had I agreed to this? Doing a photo shoot wearing only a hat, a tie, and my glasses? No, I couldn’t do this.

Then Sandro stood before me. "Jonah, right on time. Perfect.” He held the door open and I went in. “To be honest, I had expected I'd have to come over to the restaurant and drag you into the studio by your newly cut hair."

"Um, yeah.” Time to confess. “That's what would have happened if Matteo hadn’t more or less thrown me out the door.” I peered around him, trying to catch a look at that famous photo wall. “Can you show me the pictures again? I'm not entirely sure anymore that I really want to be part of it…."

"Sure, come on in. Have a look." He took me by my arm and we walked together to the back of his shop.

The collage covered almost the entire wall. I hadn’t noticed it was so large. Black-and-white photos of various sizes in dark frames. “This sure is a lot of photos.”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing this for a few years now.”

I took a step forward. Each picture was of a different guy wearing a hat. “They aren’t models, but normal men.”

“Of course, it wouldn’t work with models. It’s always the man and the hat. I can’t really explain it. If I think they fit, and they click, I ask them to do a photo shoot with me.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“And they always say ‘yes’?”

Sandro laughed. “Most of them say ‘no’ when they hear they have to be naked.”

“Why do they have to be naked?”

“As I said: It’s the man and his hat. Clothes disguise.”

And he was right. Everyone was special in his own way. It could be a scar, or how someone held his head, or the wrinkles around their eyes that lightened up a smile; the hats brought it out.

But then I detected a bright yellow sock. I blinked. “What is that?” There were more colored objects though, seemingly scattered randomly all over the otherwise monochromatic collage: a blue scarf, a pair of purple gloves. They drew the viewer's attention in, somehow linking individual photos to become a whole.

Sandro stood calmly beside me, only his left hand tapping against his thigh betrayed his nervousness. "And? What do you think?"

"I think that you Mr. Perrotta are a very talented photographic artist and I should maybe start to feel honored that you want me to be a part of this."

He took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly again. "Thank you, Jonah. I really feared you’d turn me down. I’m so glad. Shall we start by me showing you the studio?"

"Okay."

He took me by my hand, and led me to the other side of the shop, where he had a small office. Through the open door, I could see a young woman eating a salad.

Sandro stopped beside her. "Gianna, we'll be in the studio. Only call me if there’s a fire—”

She waved with the fork. “--and I can’t find the extinguisher. Sure thing, boss.”

Even while talking to his shop assistant, Sandro hadn’t let go of me. Did he still think I would bolt as soon as I had a chance? I lifted our clasped hands. “I won’t run away, promise. I’m done with that.”

"You are? Good to know." He winked at me. “Come on, I want to show you something first.”

We headed through a small door at the back of the office, which to my surprise, led to a patio that seemed to come directly from an oriental fairytale book.

"What a beautiful place."

"Yeah, my mother called it her haven. She created it as a hideaway from the hubbub of life, her words."

I turned around my own axis. The ground was paved with natural stones and white marble, forming a compass rose. At its center bubbled a small cascading fountain and two stone benches invited visitors to rest in the shade of orange and palm trees.

I put my hand into the cool water. “It’s like an oasis.”

He looked at me. “Should we sit down and talk about the photo shoot some more?”

He must have noticed how nervous I still was and I suddenly felt embarrassed. “No, it’s okay. Show me the studio?”

“If you’re sure.” Sandro walked across the patio and, with a grand gesture, opened a metal door leading to a room behind. It was large and all I could see was white: the walls; the drapes of the floor-to-ceiling windows; the screens that separated a changing area in the far left corner. Then my eyes fell on an old brown wooden desk with a matching chair, maybe from the fifties. It was surrounded by expensive lighting equipment.

"Wow Sandro, this is so cool! A professional photo studio!" I walked over to a side table to look at the different cameras he had left there.

"Yes. It all began as a hobby sort of, but soon it wasn’t enough anymore and I started to replace some of the old equipment with professional stuff. This still wasn’t what I needed, so I renovated the whole place and converted it into a studio. I once even thought about becoming a professional photographer, but I also love making hats. My mother taught me all I know about it, and by making hats, I feel connected to her. Sometimes I even hear her scolding me when a hat gets too weird." He started to laugh self-consciously. "Um … yeah, so let me show you the place?"

"Okay."

The changing area held a make-up table, a small fridge, and even a shower cubicle. A bathrobe was draped over the back of a love seat and on a clothes rack hung a light gray suit, a white dress shirt, a red silk tie and one of my Jonah hats.

"You can change here.” Sandro pointed at a box overflowing with make-up utensils. “Are you used to applying these?"

"Um … no, I only use eyeliner on very few occasions, that's all."

"Oh, it's okay. I can do it, no problem.” He pulled out a drawer, which held different hairbrushes and combs. “I can also do your hair, nothing fancy, but we want everything genuine and natural. Right?"

"So you're also a make-up artist and a hairdresser?"

"Haha, no, of course not. I learned a few basic things, so that I don't have to hire Tony every time I do a photo shoot. He can be a nuisance, as you well know."

"Oh yes, that I know very well indeed."

"Good. Do you remember when we talked about some ideas I had at Rick and Matteo's party?”

I nodded.

“I thought about them some more and decided to try different settings. If at least one of the pictures turns out as I hope, I plan to make it a companion piece for the other life-size photo."

"Oh…ehm."

"Don’t worry, we will work together here, Jonah. You'll have the last word about the photo we choose. Okay?"

"I guess."

"All right. I don't know why, but I picture you around some old-fashioned office equipment—”

“Ah, is this why you have the old desk here?” I ran my hand over its wooden top. “How old is this?”

“It isn’t that old. It’s from the fifties.”

“Really? Where did you get it?”

“We have this room where we keep some furniture, old lamps and other stuff we don't need anymore, but don’t want to throw away either. I knew there was a desk and matching chair somewhere. My mother used it in her office before she bought a new one. I cleaned it up. What do you think? Do you like it?"

"Um, yeah…er…why not. What do you want me to do?"

"Well, maybe we’ll start with you sitting on the chair, with the desk in the background. Later you could stand in front of the desk, or lean against it, sit on it. I don’t know. We should go by instinct, see what we get. What do you think?"

"I trust you with this. You're the one with the experience, after all.” I touched the chair. “So I simply sit on the chair?"

"Exactly. You’re ready to begin?"

"Yeah…as ready as I can be."

"Good. First I need to check the lighting. Could you take off your shirt and just sit down and relax?"

"Okay." I pulled my shirt over my head, folded it neatly, and put it on the desk. Normally I wouldn't do that; I guess I was more nervous than I thought.

Sandro rummaged around in a drawer, and then walked around me with the light meter in his hand. He held it against my face, then told me to sit with my back to him, and look over my right shoulder. He walked around me, constantly murmuring to himself. Then he grinned. "I think I have everything I need. You can take the rest of your clothes off over there and put on the robe. I'll do your hair and make-up. Then the hat, the glasses, and we can start.”

I gulped.

“What?"

"Uhm… nothing…"

We went back to the changing area and I just stood there staring at the suit hanging on the clothes rack instead of pulling off my clothes.

"Jonah?"

"Yeah, yeah." I toed my shoes and socks off, hopping first on one foot then on the other. Could anyone behave anymore awkwardly? I doubted it. Finally, with my back to Sandro, I opened my belt, undid the buttons of my jeans, pulled them down and stepped out of them.

There, that hadn’t been too difficult now, had it?

Standing only in my blue boxer briefs, I again folded the jeans more neatly than I had ever done it in my life.

"You can leave your underwear on while I do your make-up and hair. It's warm enough in here I hope. Or do you want to grab the robe?"

"No, no it's okay." I turned around.

"I didn't know you had a nipple piercing." Sandro stepped closer and lifted his hand, as if he wanted to touch it, but then pulled quickly back.

I looked down at the silver bar. "Uhm, yeah it’s kinda new."

"I’m surprised. I hadn’t thought—”

"Me neither, to be honest. I got it for my ex, as a birthday gift. We saw a picture at a photo exhibit and he said it would be hot if I had one. He never got to see it though; we broke up before his birthday."

"When was his birthday?"

"Yesterday."

"Ah. Now I understand. I'm sorry, Jonah—”

"What are you sorry for? You had nothing to do with it, nor could you have changed a thing. We didn't even know each other then."

"Yeah, you're right of course. But that wasn't what I meant. I'm sorry for asking, you know… me being nosy."

"That's ok. You couldn't know. I'm sorry too, for… um being so defensive."

"No problem, quite understandable after…” he waved his hands around “Why do you keep it? Doesn't it remind you of him every time you have to clean it?"

"That's the point. Reminds me of never to be so stupid again."

"Oh, I understand. Well let’s start then…"

I sat down in front of the mirror, closed my eyes and let Sandro do his job.

“Can you untie the necklace until we’re done?”

Ren’s ring.

“I’d rather leave it off.”

“No! This is great! I like it.”

Shit!

I felt a brush on my shoulders, cheeks, forehead, and nose. He explained what he did: Something about basic powder first, and a bit of blush here, and then a drop more powder to set the blush. I have to admit I didn’t know what he was talking about. At one time I had to open my eyes for the mascara and the eyeliner. Next came the hair. After that, he put the hat on my head, adjusted it a few times, pulled some strands out to frame my face, and finally stood back, admiring his work.

"Perfect. Could you put your glasses on please?"

I got my glasses out and was finally able to see what he had done to me.

Oh fuck, that's not half bad.

"Well?"

"I’m a naked man with a hat."

"As soon as you lose your briefs, yes, and then we can start with the photo shoot."

So I did. As fast as I could without thinking further about it. Much. "Okay, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Straddle the chair with your back to me, hands on your thighs, then look at me over your right shoulder, as if you wanted to see who just came in."

“Right.” Tapping my foot nervously against the floor I waited for what would come next.

"You're very handsome, Jonah; there is really nothing to be nervous about.” His hand hovered over one of the cameras. “Try to enjoy yourself. Let loose!” In the end he decided on another one. “Ignore me!"

"That's easier said than done." I rubbed my damp hands over my thighs.

He laughed. "You’re right. We just— Oh shoot! I forgot the tie."

"Huh?"

Sandro ran back to the clothes rack where he grabbed the red tie. Standing beside me again, he draped it over the backrest of my chair.

"I think we can finally start now. Sorry for the delay. You remember - hands on your thighs, look at me over your right shoulder, and don’t frown, for heaven’s sake." He shook his head at me.

I tried to position myself as he said. It felt kind off awkward sitting on a chair buck-naked only wearing a hat.

Why would someone sit on their chair with no clothes on—

"Don’t overthink this, Jonah.” Sandro lifted the camera. “Please look down and when I say 'now' you slowly look up. And remember, try to look curious. Ready?"

Curious, not frightened.

"Yeah."

"Good. Now! - Yes, that's it, Jonah. Perfect. - We'll do that again. - Yeah. Great! That looks good. - One more time. Yes, good, what about a smile? – Okay, no smile. Now look a little over your glasses, - cool, that's it."

At first I felt exposed, well, naked. After a while though, I became more comfortable. The constant talking, the encouragement, and the compliments did this to me. Somehow it had a relaxing and soothing effect. Which, of course, was Sandro’s intention, yes I know. Still, it was almost fun to follow his pointers or do the exact opposite. He was so enthusiastic, it was contagious.

"You're still feeling good over there?"

"Actually I do."

"Yes, I can tell." He grinned.

Even when we talked, he never stopped taking pictures. "So, one last position with you on that chair. Please look along your right shoulder somewhere in the distance. Imagine you’re trying to figure something out. Yess, almost there, now raise your head a little bit more - yeah that's it. Good, good. Lemme adjust the hat." And with that he came over. "Look at me." With his face right in front of me, he moved the hat a little bit more off my forehead. Then he put one of my loose strands behind my left ear, and looked into my eyes. "Everything still all right?"

"Yeah."

He briefly caressed my right cheek with the backside of his index finger. "It's not so bad, is it?"

"Nah, it's okay."

"Go over to the desk and lean against it. Cross your ankles, and lean back a little. Support yourself with your hands on the desk. Haha - Come on Jonah, try to relax.”

I rolled my shoulders and got back into position.

“That's much better. Ah shit, I have to readjust the light." He was almost back when he slapped his forehead with his hand. "The tie."

He got the red tie from the backrest of the chair. "Here, take it and hang it loosely undone around your neck. Hmm… sexy. Ha, could you hold that smile for me?" Sandro ran to get his camera ready. As soon he had it in his hands, he started taking pictures again.

We did this for about another hour; then, at some point, he let me do what I wanted. So I crossed my arms in front of my chest, pulled the hat deep onto my forehead, turned around and let the tie hang over my right shoulder, so that the end touched my butt cheek.

He groaned. “You’re an idiot.”

I stuck out my tongue. Who would have thought this could be fun? And I totally forgot that I was naked.

Finally Sandro put down the camera. "So, what about something to drink? I'm definitely thirsty."

"Oh yes. Cold water?"

"All right, cold water it is." Sandro walked over to the fridge in the changing area.

Meanwhile, I settled myself in the middle of the desktop. My butt hurt, and not in the pleasant way, I might add. Leaning against the edge of the damned desk most of the time might have looked cool, but didn’t feel all that good. What was Sandro doing back there in the changing area so long?

Man, this desk really feels uncomfortable. Shit and I’m naked.

I tried to sit more relaxed.

God, where is he?

I started hugging my left knee, eventually laying my chin on top of it, subconsciously playing with Ren's ring around my neck and my mind was running off again. What if Matteo was right? Maybe I should have talked to Ren, if only to get closure. I never gave him a chance to explain himself. But what could have explained what he did to me? He probably still loved Eric, or being with me had shown him that he actually loved Eric and not me.

What the fuck am I doing here? Clean cut remember, and then move on.

Suddenly I saw some movement and looked up. Sandro was taking pictures again, the two water bottles standing forgotten beside him on the floor.

"Sorry Jonah, I just couldn't resist. I just had to take some close-ups." He put the camera away. "Uhm, yeah, water?"

"Mhm, thank you."

"Maybe I shouldn't ask, but what were you thinking about?"

"Something Matteo mentioned a few days ago."

"Listen Jonah, I don't want to pry or anything, but when I saw that look on your face, this almost excruciating pain – I just wanted to tell you that I'm here. I'm your friend and if you need someone to talk to, we'll do that." Then he suddenly stood in front of me, with his hands on my shoulders. "Jonah, this may be not the right moment to tell you, but I'm sure you know I really like you. I also know it's way too early for you to even consider another relationship. And I don't wanna be the rebound guy. I just wanted to say… I'm waiting for you.” He waggled his eyebrows and then started to laugh. “I mean, you're quite the catch and before someone else sees you…I just wanted to mark my claim."

I punched his shoulder. “Idiot!”

"Maybe we can do something together though - get to know each other better." And with that, he kissed my forehead and I found myself spontaneously wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his chest. And yes, I was naked and had totally forgotten all about it until he suddenly let go of me and stepped back. "All right, I think we're done here; take your time, I'll wait for you in the shop." He walked out of the studio fast without looking back.

***

It was almost a week, and I still hadn’t heard anything from Sandro. Rick had already asked me a thousand times, but all I could say to him was that I didn’t know, and he simply should ask Sandro.

When I was arm-deep in dough, because Matteo wanted to show me how to make his famous Torta di maroni, Sandro finally called. Go figure!

"Hey Jonah, I managed to review the pictures, sort them into three folders and even put them on CDs. Do you have time to come over tonight, let's say around seven? We could have dinner first and then look at them."

"Wait a sec, I have to ask Rick if he needs me tonight." With the phone in my hand I walked over to Rick's office.

"Hey Rick, do you need me tonight? Sandro called; the pictures are ready, and I'd like to see how they came out."

"Nah, it's ok. I can call Tomaso in, no problem."

“Cool.” And to Sandro, "Rick doesn't need me, so I'll be over by seven."

"Good. You're a vegetarian, right?"

"Yep. Is that gonna be a problem?"

"No, I just wanted to make sure. See you at seven. Bye."

Fuck! It was almost six-thirty. Matteo and his damned Torta whatever.

While I was standing in the shower washing my hair - everything smelled like cake - I mentally browsed through my wardrobe. Why the heck was it suddenly important to me how I looked?

In the end I decided on my gray jeans with dark pinstripes, a black, button-down shirt, my black framed glasses, and in reminiscence of the photo shoot, a red tie that I borrowed from Rick. As an afterthought, I grabbed my hat too.

When I stormed through the restaurant, I was already five minutes late. Rick of course, had to yell over the whole room "Looking good, Jonah! Hot date with Sandro?" Everybody looked at me and grinned. Sometimes I hate my cousin.

When I finally arrived I was fifteen minutes late. Sandro opened the door almost immediately.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, but I had a minor disagreement with a certain Torta di maroni."

"That's okay, Jonah, no problem. Come in. Nice tie."

“Didn’t you say something about a red-tie event?”

I'd only been in the shop so far, so I curiously looked around his house. We walked through a small, dark hall into a large room that was a kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. The wall opposite the door had only one large floor-to-ceiling window with a view into his mother’s beautiful patio. "Wow, nice. Aww, and it smells good; what is it?"

"Pasta casserole and freshly baked bread."

To my relief, the table wasn’t decorated or anything, just plain white plates, glasses for wine and water and silverware. Nothing impress-your-date-like.

"Have a seat. Water or red wine, or both?"

"Both, please. So how did the pictures turn out? Are they any good?"

"They are extraordinary in my opinion, but you have to see for yourself. But, dinner first, then I'll show you the pictures."

The pasta casserole was garlicky perfection. And it seemed to be just a nice little dinner between friends, nothing more. Slowly I was starting to relax. When I told Sandro about Rick's send-off words, he almost choked on his drink.

After finishing dinner, we cleared the table together, and then walked over to his office. The computer was already on and soon I could see the first pictures.

"I created three folders. One for the close-ups, one for pictures I do not want to delete, but are not outstanding, and one for the pictures I think we could actually use for the wall."

When Sandro showed me the other folders, I could understand what he meant by ‘not outstanding, but I don't want to delete them’. He really had an appreciation for photography. The close-ups were brilliant, but he explained to me that he didn’t want to use those for his wall.

Then he opened the last folder. "So, these are the pictures I think we could use for the actual purpose. Pick one."

If it hadn’t been me in the photos, I have said they were perfect. In the first picture, I sat with my back to the lens. The red tie hung over the backrest of the chair. Looking over my right shoulder, the hat slightly pushed up on my forehead, I grinned in a 'Come hither …' way I would never have thought I could actually pull off. In the second picture, I half sat, half leaned on the desk, supporting myself with my arms against the edge of the desk, my legs crossed at my ankles. The red tie hung loosely around my neck. It looked like I dared the observer to come closer. The lighting on both was brilliant. In the third picture, I stood in front of the desk, again with my back to the camera. The red tie hung over my right shoulder with the tip just touching my butt. With my left hand, I pressed the hat against my head from behind. All three pictures had been imaged in black-and-white, with just the tie glowing like a red beacon.

"Why do I have to choose?"

"Because I promised you."

"But I can't. It’s too difficult."

"You don’t need to decide this right now. I'll give you the CD, with all the pictures. You can look at them at home, and decide later. Maybe we can use a projector some time, see them in their true size."

"That’s a brilliant idea. I can ask Rick and Matteo for their opinion too.”

Sandro shut down the computer. “So, what say you? Did we earn us dessert?"

"Definitely."

"Ok, let's go to Dinah's; she has the best ice cream in the whole town, my treat."

Back home, I finally took off the necklace with Ren's ring, and put it in the drawer of my nightstand.

pasta casserole