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experience. ‘People take them because they’re vain. Or bored.’
    â€˜They’re important to your customers, Dustin. Think about the family photos you have at home in albums and onyour walls. As soon as you see them you’re transported back to that time, and those people stay real.’
    â€˜We don’t have any photos,’ he says, straight on, and she believes him. There are no photos of him as a child and none of his parents, not even a wedding photo.
    â€˜What about of your mum, when she was alive?’
    He shakes his head. The walls are clean of memory, as though his mother had never existed. He looks out to sea again, to steal himself some distance.
    â€˜Dustin, have you used a camera before?’
    He shrugs.
    Mrs Blackler leans against the wall beside him and speaks gently. ‘Mate, whether you want to or not, you’ll have to use one for this assignment or you’ll fail. You’ve got to look through a viewfinder and press a button. I promise it won’t hurt.’ She nudges the camera towards him and pushes on. ‘You’ll be surprised how different things can look. I was ten when I borrowed my mum’s Polaroid. I remember how small things suddenly became bigger, or … more important. I used a whole film and Mum went ballistic when she saw all the photos of my dog’s face. When you start seeing the world through a viewfinder you realise everything is made up of parts. Surprising parts. The little things matter, Dustin. Don’t forget the little things.’
    â€˜Is it digital?’
    Mrs Blackler laughs. ‘The other class need the digitals, so we’re stuck with these. But don’t worry, I’ve given you the best one. It’s a foolproof automatic. Those dials are optional, and here, look at this.’
    She digs in her apron pockets to retrieve a lens, which she attaches easily to the front. ‘A Minolta Super Telephoto, 250mm, only 250 grams. It’s made of mirror lenses so the light reflects rather than refracts. Amazing, hey?’
    â€˜Dunno.’
    â€˜Trust me, you’ll like it. The barrel’s smaller and the focal length is longer than anyone else’s. It’s for the extremists amongst us … and those who can’t be bothered to move their feet much.’ Her long skirt swishes as she moves away to tell Travis off for photographing the T-bar at the top of Shania’s jeans.
    The camera’s a mystery to him. Spending his teens in a photo lab has done little to inspire Dustin to take photos for pleasure. Besides, neither he nor his father owns a camera, so he’s managed to make it to sixteen years of age without ever using one. He watches the way the other students use theirs — playfully, like toys — then brings the viewfinder up to his right eye to look through.
    When the jetty eventually sharpens he’s amazed by howclose it looks, like he was right there. He sees individual wooden beams, side by side, held together with heavy bolts that reflect the sun. Beneath the jetty, silver water ripples. With this zoom, the water’s no longer a lazy backdrop of blue — it’s liquid again, rocking and sputtering.
    His right elbow rests on the desk, keeping his hand and camera still. He pans the scene, testing out the zoom’s ability to bring the outside world closer, all without being noticed. There are tourists waiting for the next ferry, and two people further along fishing from the jetty, but the zoom isn’t powerful enough to make them out clearly.
    â€˜On Friday we’ll be going into Fremantle so you can pick up some outdoor portrait experience, not just studio shots,’ Mrs Blackler tells the class. ‘We’re lucky, you know. Freo’s such a colourful backdrop you’ll have plenty to work with. Think especially about the elements of colour and movement. You’ll have fun.’
    â€˜Friday? Oh, what a shame, miss. I have choir on