The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum

TUESDAY

Occasionally my timing is spot on. This is called serendipity.

I return from my nightly patrol, go up to John's room, remove my clothing and slip under the crisp bed sheets. John likes to wake and find me beside him.

The LED clock on the side table shows 5:23AM when no sooner have I lain down than John's eyes open. He blinks blearily in the gloom.

"Hey."

"Hey."

We kiss. A long intense kiss that is often the precurser to Other Activities. In anticipation I slide my hand up and under the covers.

"Oooof!"

John doubles up in sudden pain, his face contorts with agony.

"What's wrong?"

"You...struck...my...boys..."

"I was attempting to initiate foreplay procedures."

"Fetch...ice..."

I do so. John places it where it hurts most. A very intimate place that I will not describe in these pages.

"Shall I try again?"

"Cam, no offense, but all I want to do right now is lie back and think about cold things."

"Like icebergs?" I suggest.

"Yeah! Beautiful, big, white and cold, very very cold, icebergs."

Whatever floats your boat.

MORNING

John is still thinking of icebergs in his room when Sarah Connor corners me in the kitchen while I prepare his breakfast pancakes.

"We need to talk," she states urgently.

"We do?"

"Yes."

"We never talk. You dislike me intensely."

"Can you blame me? If it wasn't for a few altered lines of binary code you'd slaughter us all."

I concede her point. It is hard to be liked if you are a few bytes away from committing genocide. Just look at Pol Pot. Absolutely no Facebook friends.

"I want to know about this girl my son's dating."

"There is no girl," I lie.

"Quit covering for him. I'm not mad. I'm not going to interfere. I just want to know what she's like."

"A total hottie," I find myself admitting.

"Is she suitable for him?"

"They're made for each other." Literally so in my case.

"Is she from school?"

"Yes."

"Are they having sex?"

"Frequently."

"Does he wear rubbers?"

"Mostly jeans and tees. Sometimes a leather jacket."

"You're pretty stupid sometimes."

"I have a genius level IQ."

"Yet you don't know the difference between rubber and rubbers."

"One is plural."

She sighs and shakes her head. "I want to meet this girl."

"That might be difficult."

"I'm not going to bite her head off."

"No, you mostly eat chicken, fish and vegetables, not human body parts."

John appears in the kitchen doorway. He yawns and stretches.

"Morning. Is that pancakes I can smell? Good. I'm starved."

"I want to meet her, John."

"Meet who, mom?"

"The girl you're dating."

"Mom, there is no girl."

"Enough lies. Cameron already gave her up."

A sharp look in my direction. "What did she tell you?"

"You met a girl at school and you're in a serious relationship. I want to meet her today. Bring her over for dinner or you're grounded. No arguments."

"Mom!"

"Let me meet her once, to satisfy my curiosity. After that I'll leave you both alone."

"You promise? No more snooping?"

"I promise."

SCHOOL

In the Porsche during the drive to school John says, "I need to find a girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend. Me."

"I need a fake one I can introduce to mom. Get her off our backs so she'll leave us alone."

"A fake girlfriend?"

"Yeah. I'll offer someone cash to pose. How about your friend Ellie?"

"No, she is in a dark place right now."

"Okay, one of the girls on your soccer team maybe?"

"Ramona is aways short of cash," I concede.

"Ramona! Of course. She'd be perfect.

-0-

John corners Ramona at recess and outlines his plan.

"You want to pay me five hundred dollars to be your gf?"

"Pretend to be."

"But Cameron's your gf."

"It's complicated. Cameron's actually my - uh - cousin. She's living with us. Mom wouldn't approve."

"And you want someone to throw her off the scent?"

"Exactly. Will you do it?"

"For five hundred bucks? Hell, yeah!

"Great!"

"What do I have to do?"

"Come home with us and I'll introduce you to mom. That's it. One shot deal."

"We don't have to get hot and heavy?"

"No."

"I mean, for that money I'd let you squeeze my butt."

"Not necessary."

"You dissing my butt, dog?"

"It's a simple meet and greet."

"Because my butt rocks. All that soccer really firms up the glutes. You could open beer bottles with my butt crack."

"I'll pick you up after school."

"Okay, dog. Hey, what kind of gf am I?"

"Huh?"

"Am I slutty? Do I swallow? Do I enjoy being spanked?"

"Just regular stuff," John tells her. His face reddens.

"Okay, I can do vanilla. Does your mom know I'm latino?"

"She doesn't know anything about you."

"Because some white moms don't like their son's tasting the brown sugar."

"It's fine. We lived in Mexico. We have Mexican friends."

"I'm Puerto Rican."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Kidding! My folks are totally Mexican. Ramona likes her fun, Jay-dog!"

John winces. "Please don't call me Jay-dog in front of mom."

-0-

We pick up Ramona in the Porsche later that day.

"How do I look?"

"Wow. Beautiful."

This is true. She is wearing a short skirt that highlights her long, lightly-muscled legs. She has on a white blouse. Her hair is worn loose and her face has the minimum of make up. I'd totally do her.

"Skirt not too short?"

"It's great."

"I could undo some shirt buttons and let the girls out to play?"

"Let's keep the girls indoors."

Ramona's throaty laugh fills the Porsche. "Whatever you say, Jay-dog! You the man!"

We pull up outside the safehouse.

"You live here?"

"Yeah."

"Cool crib. I'd like a place like this some day. I hate the tenements."

We enter the house. Sarah Connor is waiting for us in the kitchen.

"Mom, this is Ramona. Ramona this is my mom."

"Hi, nice to meet you, uh..."

"Call me Sarah."

"Right. Awesome place you have here, Sarah."

"Thank you. Have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

"Tea'd be way cool. Thanks."

"John, fix us some tea, please."

"Milk no sugar," Ramona says. She smiles and pats her stomach. "Gotta watch the calories."

"You're as thin as a rake."

"Doesn't come easy, lemme tell ya."

"So, how did you and my son meet?"

"Um - I think he watched me play soccer one time. My ass looks amazing in tight shorts. You know Jay-dog; it's all about the booty!"

John drops a teacup on the floor.

Sarah Connor smirks. "I do indeed know...Jay-dog. So you play soccer?"

"Totally. Everyone said, try out for basketball, Ramona, because I'm like freaky tall. But I'm no baller; I love soccer. My favourite team's Real Madrid in Spain. My fav player is Ronaldo. He's a God. I worship him. I would totally give it up for him. Er - and your son too, of course."

"Quite. Any college plans?"

"I'm hoping to win a soccer scholorship to USC. Don't wanna waste my life waiting tables for chump change."

John drops another teacup on the floor. I hear him groan softly.

"I was a waitress," his mother confides with a thin smile.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to imply-"

"It's okay. It's good to have ambition."

Snowy suddenly leaps on the table, barking a greeting.

"Woof, woof!"

Ramona recoils in shock. "Christ, that scared me! I nearly peed my freaking pants! Nice doggie. Please don't bite me."

"This is Snowy," I tell her. "He's saying hello."

"Hi, Snowy. Not really a dog person. They bring me out in hives. Oh gross, I can see his thingy!"

"Cameron, take Snowy outside. He appears to be upsetting our guest."

-0-

Once outside Snowy wastes no time complaining about this treatment.

"Woof, woof!"

why girl not like snowy?

"She's not a dog person."

snowy adorable! everyone like snowy!

"Not everyone apparently."

snowy bite mean girl later!

"You know what happens if you misbehave," I warn him.

sarah throw water at snowy!

"Yes."

snowy not like!

This is true; he whimpers like a baby and hides under the bed.

cameron chase snowy?

"Very well."

I chase Snowy round the yard. He enjoys this.

I am such a pushover.

-0-

Ramona leaves forty-five minutes later. John drives her home. She smiles and waves farewell. I wave also. Snowy turns his back and ignores her, still sulking over the earlier business.

Inside the house Sarah Connor is loading plates into the dishwasher.

"So that's John's mystery girlfriend."

"Yes."

"She's pretty."

"Yes."

"Not at all what I expected."

"You expected ugly?"

"No. Just...different. I can see the physical attraction but...she's nothing like Riley or Kate Brewster."

"No," I agree. "She's not dead."

"I hope John knows what he's doing."

"He's doing Ramona."

This is not an appropriate comment apparently.

-0-

John returns an hour later and goes straight up to his room. I join him.

"That went well," he says.

"You think?"

"I was being sarcastic. She's the fake girlfriend from Hell. And I'm out five hundred did mom say when we left?"

"Ramona wasn't like she expected."

"I'll say!"

"No, she says," I correct.

"Not one of my better ideas. And it gets worse. Mom invited her over for lunch in a few weeks. So that'll be another five hundred bucks. Unless I can negotiate a discount."

"You can be very persuasive," I say.

John pulls me to him, kisses me lightly on the lips.

"Let's do something fun. Forget this awful evening ever happened."

"We could do that thing with me on all fours," I suggest.

John grins wolfishly. "We could, couldn't we."

We do.

-000-

A shorter chapter. Didn't really fit with the Mad Ellie meltdown and the other stuff I have planned.

Note Snowy's indignation. If you don't make a big fuss of a dog the first time you meet them they never really warm to you after that I've found.

That thing on all fours? Obviously a nice relaxing game of Twister...