Chapter Ten
It took Sarah about three seconds to recover from her initial shock. What she saw left no room for doubt that something terrible had just happened.
The collapsed bed, her son on his back with his trousers down and the cyborg straddling him, her tank top torn and hanging off her.
Fists clenched, her head moving back and fourth like a pigeon's, Sarah merely stared, her outrage rendering her momentarily speechless.
"I … you…" she spluttered, her face reddening, as she took a deep breath whilst shaking.
The storm broke loose and Sarah was upon them, shouting so loudly it made Derek wince.
"I never thought it of both of you. I leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens. Did you ever think of the consequences? Do you even care? No, of course you don't."
Cameron had discreetly climbed off John and was kneeling next to him, holding up the ripped strap of her top. John had sat up and was awkwardly trying to pull his trousers up.
"Err … Sarah" Derek nudged her on the arm.
Ignoring him, she continued to rant at them.
"What on earth were you thinking of? Trying to work up an appetite for my turkey, were you? And look at your bed, John. For all I care you can sleep on the floor tonight."
"He can sleep in mine" Cameron offered helpfully.
John screwed up his face and pressed his eyes shut.
Oh no, that was so not a good idea…
"WHAT!" Sarah bellowed, causing both of them to jump.
"So your performance can have an encore? That's what you think, young lady. Not on your life."
"Sarah, listen" Derek tapped her on the shoulder, looking between John and Cameron.
"Not now, Reese" she shrugged him off impatiently, glaring at her son and his cyborg.
"John, you're coming with me while little miss heavyweight here repairs your bed. We need to talk."
"Sarah!" Derek urged, taking hold of her arm.
"What is it?" she asked irritably, while John and Cameron both stared at the ground looking crestfallen.
"Look" he pointed out, indicating the supposedly caught-in-the-act pair. "They're still dressed, aren't they? Well, partly, anyway. I think John's old bed just collapsed of its own accord."
"Of course it collapsed of its own accord when those two were—"
"Mom, please" John interrupted her, his face a beautiful shade of magenta. "Nothing, err, happened here. I was just trying on my trousers when—"
"With Cameron on top of you? Do you think I was born yesterday, John? I may be older than you, but I'm not that old yet."
"Sarah" Cameron put in, getting to her feet and purposely moving away from John.
"That's the truth. John was ruining his trousers and I was about to stop him when the bed gave way."
With a frown, Sarah looked from her son to the cyborg and back again.
"What does she mean with ruining your trousers? You've only had them for half an hour."
Deciding that the truth would this time be a better ally than another white lie, John launched into explanation and told his mother exactly what had happened.
"So you see, Mom?" he concluded apologetically. "Cameron tried to stop me from tearing out the label and I fell over backwards onto the bed and pulled her with me. She had nothing to do with it."
"There you go again making excuses for her."
Sighing, Sarah ran her fingers through her hair and glanced at Derek who merely shrugged and grinned.
"Oh well. You needed a new bed anyway. Which means you can take Cameron along and buy one after the holidays" she decided, looking between a suddenly pleased looking John and a relieved looking Cameron and the heap on the floor.
"A single bed."
Derek chuckled as both boy and cyborg seemed to deflate simultaneously. Sarah turned and headed for the door, still shaking her head and muttering to herself about teenage machines and double beds.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the future saviour of mankind rose from the ruins and walked over to his cyborg protector, doing up his trousers.
"I think I'll get on my laptop while you try on your dress" he told her glumly.
"Oh no, you won't" Sarah called from the landing. "You're on potato peeling duty for breaking your bed. And since Cameron had nothing to do with it she can clear up the mess in your room in the meantime."
Tilting her head at Sarah's logic, Cameron bent down to pick up John's mattress.
John walked round it ready to take hold of the other end.
"D'you need any help?" he asked, feeling guilty that Cameron had been left to do the dirty work again.
Treating him to a grateful smile, Cameron shook her head.
"No thank you, John. I'll manage."
She lifted the mattress with one arm and carried it across the room where she propped it up against the wall next to the window. John watched her return and start dismantling the remains of the frame.
Sighing, he trudged towards the door and beckoned his uncle to follow him.
"Are you coming?"
"Nope. I'm gonna see if I can mend your bed while you take over my kitchen duties."
Not meeting his nephew's eye, Derek stared shiftily at the diminishing pile of metal and wood.
"Okay" John nodded. "And thanks anyway, for calming Mom down."
Derek held up a hand.
"Don't mention it. I was your age once as well, you know" he said with a wink.
"But we didn't … oh, what's the use."
Derek grinned as he watched his nephew slouch out the door and out of sight.
His grin faded instantly as he turned to look at the cyborg currently removing the last piece of debris from the floor.
"Um … Cameron?" he asked uneasily.
"Yes?"
"Look, about you and John …"
He trailed off rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Derek was no man for idle chitchat and he was also no one to beat about the bush, even if what he intended to ask her made his insides squirm.
"And no, I don't wanna know if it can work or how it might work, but—"
I'm saying this to a machine. I must be loosin' it…
Cameron tilted her head.
"Only, if it does work, can you … I mean …" Dammit. "Look, John can't get you pregnant, can he?"
I need that beer now…
She regarded him for a while with a faraway look as if she were analyzing new data. Then she put on the usual blank face she always adopted when speaking to Derek.
"No. That's not possible. I'm a machine. I can't have children."
An utterly relieved Derek let out the breath he had been holding and gave the impassive cyborg a curt nod before he turned and left without another word.
He didn't see the sole tear leak out of Cameron's eyes and run down her cheek.
…
"You're supposed to leave at least some of the potato, John. Not peel it away to nothing."
Sarah yanked the peeler out of her son's hand and threw away the now grape-sized spud John had been busily working on for over ten minutes.
Taking another one from the colander resting in the sink, she peeled it in front of him in a matter of seconds and held up the result for him to see.
"This is what a peeled potato looks like" she said irritably. "Honestly, John, sometimes I wonder how you expect to become the man you're supposed to be."
"General Connor doesn't peel potatoes in the future, Sarah."
Derek entered the kitchen and stopped at the fridge, deciding it was time for his beer at last. After his psychologically taxing talk with Cameron, he had checked his car to calm himself down and then gone to the living room to turn on the TV. He reckoned there might be wrestling on and sitting on the sofa watching television with a few beers should take his mind off of any disconcerting ideas concerning toddler terminators.
Retrieving a beer from the bottom shelf, he turned and nodded at his nephew, a peculiar smile on his face.
Sarah thrust the potato peeler into Derek's free hand and smirked at him.
"Correct. I guess that would be one of those less pleasurable tasks he would probably delegate to some wise guy."
Leaving Derek to splutter indignantly and continue reluctantly on the pile of potatoes he had abandoned earlier, Sarah busied herself with tipping the jar of yams into a pot.
"Yams?" John asked, noticing the soggy tubers sliding out of the jar.
"I thought we were having sweet potatoes."
"The larder is out of sweet potatoes" she told him curtly.
"Get out from under my feet, John. Find something else to do. Go and play with your laptop."
"Or with your cyborg" Derek added under his breath.
An onion bouncing off of Derek's head and landing in the sink with a splash was the last thing John saw as he left the kitchen and headed for the stairs.
…
I think I'll check up on that UFO convention again. There's something about that Abraham guy Mom told me about that just doesn't add up…
The airborne onion having reminded John of a flying saucer, he decided to spend the remaining hours before dinner doing something more sensible with his laptop than blowing up virtual monsters on the screen.
As he climbed the stairs he thought of Cameron and the way she had dumped that Desert Canyon Heat and Air guy in the middle of a mine field. He imagined her grinning at the man from behind the enclosure after having gracefully danced to safety and addressing him in his own voice. 'Neat trick. You like?'
How John longed to see her dance.
The sound of classical music coming from Cameron's room made him stop at the top of the stairs.
That's weird. Since when does she listen to music?…
Stealthily, he moved along the corridor until he was right outside her door. John was by all means no great shakes on music, and all he knew about classical music was that its composers were mostly dead.
He paused to listen. This sounded beautiful, he never knew music could be so … different.
As he put his hand on the doorknob he was overcome by a strong feeling of uneasiness. He felt as if he were about to intrude on something, he had never entered Cameron's room just out of the blue before. Without knocking, that was.
Gingerly turning the knob and easing the door open, John poked his head through the gap.
What he saw made him freeze to the spot and just stare.
Derek was right…
Cameron had changed into a grey sort of jumpsuit and was wearing flat, thin, slip-on shoes. She was moving, no, gliding in perfect sync to a dreamlike piano piece accompanied by what John thought to be a string orchestra.
Her steps were fluidic, as if she were as one with the music. As if she were part of it.
Floating on the waves…
Slowly, John stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He merely gaped at her, completely raptured by her dancing; her every step, her every movement in absolute harmony with the longing, passionate and yet melancholy character of the music.
It gradually faded out and Cameron lowered her arms against her sides like a dove, facing the window and remaining quite still.
"That … that was beautiful."
It was all John managed to say. His mouth was dry and his throat was strangely constricted. He felt all knotted up inside as if he were about to cry.
She didn't respond. She continued to stand like a statue looking out the window. After a few moments John realized that this was not part of her performance and slowly approached her until he was standing right behind her.
"Cameron?" he asked hesitantly, placing his hand ever so gently on her shoulder.
She turned around abruptly, causing him to flinch and stumble backwards. Her face was blank and her cheeks were damp, as she stared up at him with her huge eyes. John had the fleeting impression that they were slightly redder than usual, but he attributed it to the sunlight shining in through the orange flowery patterns on her curtains. He knew at once though, that she had been crying.
"What's wrong?"
He stepped up to her and tilted his head in a fashion strangely reminiscent of hers.
Cameron studied him impassively, analyzing his concerned frown, and the genuine curiosity and care his voice conveyed.
"The music. It makes me feel sad" she said tonelessly, trying hard to maintain a blank face.
"But … it was beautiful. And yeah, a little sad maybe" he admitted before looking her directly in the eyes and adding breathlessly "You were beautiful…"
Without warning she flung herself at him and wrapped her arms round him, burying her face in his chest.
"Don't leave me, John."
John was so transfixed, he simply stood there without moving a muscle. Berating himself for being so painfully slow, he eventually lifted his arms and embraced her, pressing her body firmly against his. Cameron gasped and tightened her grip on him, causing his breath to catch in his lungs.
Good job Derek's not around…
"I'll never leave you, Cameron. You know that" he whispered, stroking the back of her head and knowing she would remember.
Cameron hugged him even harder, quite forgetting her own strength. She knew he meant it right now. But would he still mean it after she told him? After he knew? Would it be possible, would he still want to be with her? She had never been so confused; she had never felt so pained in her whole existence.
It was easier before…
One look into John's kind, caring eyes told her she was wrong. She would never want things to go back to how they had been before.
They stood holding each other for what seemed like hours. Time was meaningless, a mere human invention, designed to govern people's lives. It was bliss to step out of its prison cell if only for a while, and catch a glimpse of eternity. Time without clocks.
John's surroundings had melted away into nothingness. He relished in only feeling Cameron's body pressed up against him. She was so warm, so soft, and the smell of her fragrant hair made him go weak at the knees.
She shifted her head and looked up at him, scrutinizing him, making him drown in her eyes. He wanted to lose himself in those dark brown pools full of sadness and … longing.
When I look into your eyes I can see a love restrained…
Cameron had to literally force her system to continue to monitor her surroundings, to listen out for any unfamiliar sounds, and to check if the house was still moving, since its absolute centre had shifted slightly in the past year, 0.24 millimetres being quite a lot in the cyborg way of looking at things.
John holding her tight nearly made her forget her mission, nearly made her forget who she was. She pulled herself together.
I will combine protection with care…
They finally broke apart, oblivious to the fact that not even ten minutes had passed. John smiled at her, amazed at how graceful her body looked in that tight jumpsuit and just how sweet the ponytail she had done her hair into accentuated her perfectly round head and high forehead; adorable together with her puppy-dog look.
Didn't that psychologist at school say something about that guy and his baby face 'Kindchenschema' model once? I wonder if that Alison girl was just as beautiful…
Cameron reached up and took the rubber band out of her hair, letting it fall down and flow over her shoulders, partly covering her face. John automatically reached up and tucked the errant strands behind her ears.
"I never knew you could dance like that" he admitted, still amazed at what he had been fortunate enough to behold and pleased that at last he had had the opportunity to witness it for himself.
"It was so … divine."
Cameron always deported herself with such style and grace, he could think of no better word to describe those angelic movements.
"Dancing is the hidden language of the soul" Cameron breathed, her expression back to that one of longing sadness.
"I know" John said huskily. "And you're fluent in so many languages."
Radiantly lovely, but still emanating such melancholy, she leaned in and planted a tiny, yet lingering kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you for believing in me, John" she simply said, before she took him by the hand and led him to the door.
"Where are we going?" John asked goofily, feeling blissfully light-headed, as he glided along behind her.
"We should check on the turkey. I do not want it burnt and it should be ready in twenty—"
She suddenly stopped and John just about managed not to walk into her this time.
I'm learning…
"Oh" Cameron exclaimed, tilting her head. "I thought it was much later than it is. The turkey will need at least another one and a half hours until it is cooked."
"That doesn't matter" he shrugged. "I guess Mom will appreciate some help in the kitchen either way."
He opened the door for her and they headed for the stairs, Cameron idly wondering what may have been the cause of her having misjudged her internal chronometer so drastically.
…