A couple of weeks later, we have another official function, again with lots of other adults, lots of children, and this time, lots of meetings and activities and general chaos. I arrive early, I think, because Mr Faraway and I are supposed to be auditing the books first thing, but instead I discover I seem to be late, and instead we’re rushing around, setting things up.
The whole day goes sort of like that, but since my official role that day is photographer, I just run around taking pictures of whatever happens to be going on that looks interesting, and don’t worry about the schedule or the protocol or any of the rest of it.
When the main meeting begins, I stand in a doorway toward the front of the room, taking pictures of the kids giving their presentations. His daughter, a teenager, is leading this part of the proceedings. I notice he is standing behind me in the doorway, and though I don’t see him there, all I have to do is take a slight step back and to the side and his arm will be over my shoulders, around me.
I stand still and focus on the camera and children, and after a moment, I realize he’s moved to another doorway, in the back of the room.
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