The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum

"God, it's like someone barfed Hollywood in here!"

Becca laughs at her own joke. I don't. We are in a warehouse in Culver City that rents theatrical costumes, surrounded by clothes, hats, boots, scarves, props and accessories. We need to find a costume for me to wear to the party.

Becca flings her arms wide and spins in a tight circle. "Can't you just smell the history in this place?"

I consult my sensory data. "I detect stale perspiration, dry cleaning chemicals and a type of spore-reproducing bacterium, most likely mildew."

"There's not a single romantic bone in your body, is there?"

This is true, mainly because there is not a single bone in my body, period.

"Ooh, look at the Elvises. Or do I mean Elvi?"

I look. A row of headless mannequins wear high-collared, rhinestone-spangled jumpsuits.

"Daddy once took me to see Graceland. It was kinda creepy. Elvis is buried in the yard, like a pet dog or something. Apparently his casket's vacuum-sealed, like a TV dinner. He's as fresh as the day he died!"

We wander further into the room. I spot a cardboard box full of weapons, pistols and rifles mostly. Closer inspection reveals them to be fakes, crudely constructed from plastic and aluminum. Threat : Minimal.

"Pick anything you like but not Xena, Warrior Princess. That's my costume. It's perfect for me. One, I get to wear a dark wig. Two, the bodice highlights my best feature - my boobs. Three, the leather strappy skirt hides my humungous butt."

"Your butt is not humungous."

"Please, it's enormous compared to your buns of steel."

"Buns of coltan," I correct.

"Whatever."

I pick a costume at random. "This."

"Charlie Chaplin? Nuh huh. Dressing as a dead dude with a mustache is not a good look for attracting boys."

"Half the boys in school find me attractive but I don't notice."

"Tell me about it."

"I am."

"You've got to flaunt your assets. Like me and the girls." She indicates her breasts. "What d'you call yours?"

"Left and right."

Becca sighs. "Honestly, Cam , sometimes I think you're from another planet or something."

I spot a red and blue outfit that intrigues me. "This one."

"Why?"

"I like the cape. I've never worn a cape."

"Okay. Supergirl it is."

----------

I don my costume in the privacy of my room, followed by a raincoat that I tie with a sash. I walk through the house. In the den, Sarah Connor is napping on the couch. Her sleeping pattern has improved lately. This is good. If Sarah Connor is happy then John is happy also. A mother/son symbiosis.

John is outside on the porch. "So you're really going?"

"Yes."

"Do I get to see the costume?"

I undo the sash and show him.

"Supergirl. Why did you choose Supergirl?"

"I like the cape."

"That's it? Supergirl is an alien, an outsider, who uses her superpowers to help mankind fight evil. Ringing any bells?"

"I like the cape. I've never worn a cape before."

"It's a tight costume."

"Thank you."

"I meant it's a snug fit."

"Yes. There is no room for underwear."

John's jaw clenches and unclenches. "Okay, get in. I'll drive."

"You didn't want to go."

"Someone's got to keep you out of trouble."

"I won't cause trouble."

"That outfit's trouble," John replies cryptically. "I'm coming with you."

"Where's your costume?"

"I'll rustle something up."

John goes into the house. When he returns he looks the same, apart from a white tee worn under a red canvas windbreaker.

"Who am I?" he asks me.

"You are John Connor."

"I'm James Dean."

"Who is James Dean?"

"He was a famous actor. Dead now."

"How did he die?"

"Car crash."

"Then I'll drive."

--------------------------------------------

"Can't believe I'm actually doing this," John tells me as we head for the turnpike. "The last party I went to - the only party I ever went to - was when I was five years old. Mom didn't believe in parties. Every birthday was just me and her and a Mac Dee's Happy meal. The free toy was my present."

"Future John throws a party in the future. An historic one."

"During the war? What do I serve - field ration vol-vu-vents?"

"You serve champagne and provide entertainment. A singer from this era. Madonna."

"She survives Judgement Day?"

"She is old and her celebrity diminished, but you reassure her she will be fine. And she is. You possess an ability to encourage people, to go the extra mile for you, to persuade them to fight and perhaps die for the cause if necessary."

"Why do I hold a party?"

"You invite the the militia leaders of the East coast, Canada and Mexico. It is known as the Los Angeles Accord. You negotiate a co-ordination of effort in the attacks on Skynet's infrastructure. Human co-operation is as old as civilization and it stretches Skynet's resources to breaking point."

"You're there?"

"I am by your side throughout, apart from the actual negotiations."

"How come?"

"The other leaders are suspicious of me, of my influence over you. The Mexicans accuse you of taking my orders. You tell them, 'I am John Connor. I was born a free man. I fight as a free man. And if God wills it, I will die a free man. I am no puppet of any tin can.' It is one of your most famous quotes."

"I call you a tin can."

"You needed to assert your authority."

John attempts levity to disguise his embarrassment. "I suppose you weren't dressed as Supergirl?"

"I wear battle fatigues. As do you. There is a war on."

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Judging by the number of vehicles in the street we are not the first to arrive. Loud music blasts from the house, which is covered in lights and paper bunting. John says, "I hope she cleared this with the neighbours or this is gonna be one short party."

Becca answers the door. "John! You came! Wonderful. And you're James Dean. That makes three so far - but you're the cutest. You're getting lucky tonight, mister. Hey! Cameron - did you just pinch me?"

"Sorry."

"That'll bruise. Cam, you look amazing. How hot are you, girlfriend?"

"Ninety-eight point seven degrees."

"Isn't she hilarious?" Becca laughs. "Come and try the non-alcoholic punch." Her left eye winks. "Because we're all minors here so we can only drink non-alcoholic punch." She winks again.

"Something wrong with your eye?"

"Nothing the punch can't cure!"

John says, "Xena. Warrior Princess, right?"

"Right. You like Xena?"

"What's not to like."

"God, I just love your brother to bits, Cam. Hey! Did you just tread on my foot?"

"Sorry."

"Man, you're a klutz tonight."

------------------------------------------------

The inside of the house is different from the last time I was here. The furniture has been removed. Long tables laden with food line the walls. A great many people, all in colourful costumes, throng in the center of the room moving in time to the music or simply stand in groups talking. I spot several Elvises. Or Elvi.

"You invited all these people? The whole school's here."

"Not all of them. Some are gatecrashers. I operate a strict apartheid policy. Only the cute boys get to gatecrash. Definitely no girls prettier than me. And check out the waiters."

The waiters, who fetch food and drink, wear dark pants and a bow tie. Nothing else.

"Cost an extra hundred each to get them to strip, but it's totally worth it. Check out the pecs on that guy. Yowza! Hey, Chico - three brewski's over here prontoski!"

The waiter hands us each a cup of plum coloured liquid. John and Becca drink.

"Wow - that's really...something," John gasps.

"My own personal recipe," Becca laughs. "Not for amateurs. Come on, James Dean, dance with Xena."

"No, I don't dance, really---"

"You can't refuse the hostess. Besides, this bodice is really low cut. There's a good chance the girls will be popping out later."

"She named her breasts the girls," I explain.

"Yeah, I got that."

John allows himself to be dragged away. I move around brushing past a cowboy and a roman soldier to keep them in sight.

"Cameron? Cameron Baum? Oh man - it is you!"

One of the many Elvi approaches me. My facial recognition software pings. I have a match.

IDENTITY: Morris

STATUS: Ex-school friend of John's

THREAT: Non-existent

"Cameron. I can't believe it. I thought I'd never see you again. What happened? Where did you vanish to? Is John here?"

I point to where John is. Morris waves. John comes over.

"Morris! How the hell are you?" They embrace.

"I'm good, man. What happened to you? You just vanished into thin air."

"Yeah. Uh - mom got in deep with the IRS."

"The IRS?"

"Several hundred grand in the hole. She was looking at jailtime so we got outta Dodge."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry, man. All happened so fast. What are you doing here?"

"My girlfriend knows the host. I'm her plus one."

"Girlfriend? Good for you."

Morris looks at me sadly. "Sorry."

Why is he apologising to me?

"Morris - there you are. Running off like that."

A tall redhaired girl joins us, punching Morris lightly on the arm. Her costume has a cape like mine, only hers is all black with a bat-shaped emblem on her chest. It is probable this is a comic book character also. Possibly named Rodent Woman. Or Nocturnal Mammal Girl.

"Sorry. Everyone, this is Kate. These are my friends, John and his sister Cameron."

"John and Cameron? You're the two Morris kept talking about for months. He even wanted to hire a private detective to track you down."

"She's exaggerating."

"Am not. I'm Katherine Brewster, by the way. Everyone calls me Kate."

"Did you miss me at all?" Morris asks me.

"No."

"Ouch. Way to let me down easy."

"Of course Cameron missed you," John interjects. "You two were going to the prom together."

"Oh really?" Kate Brewster elbows Morris in the ribs. "You never mentioned that, Casanova."

"Yeah, well, never happened. I'll get everyone some punch."

"Not for me, Morris," Kate yells after him. "Exam tomorrow. Clear head and all that. I'm hoping to go to vet college after I graduate. Do you like animals, John? I have three dogs, a pony and and a cockatoo named Mister Tibbs."

"Sydney Poitier. They call me Mister Tibbs."

"Well done. I've trained him to say movie quotes. You know, Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me?"

"You must be talking to me 'cause there's no one else here. De Niro. Taxi Driver."

John and the girl called Kate Brewster smile at each other, maintaining eye contact longer than normal. My HUD blinks an amber warning but I can find no threat or system failure to justify it. Possibly an internal glitch. I will run a self-diagnostic later.

"I had a dog,"John says. "Max. He died."

"It's sad when they die."

"I had a pet," I announce. "Cuddles."

"What happened to Cuddles?"

"John smashed Cuddles to pieces with a baseball bat."

Kate Brewster stares at me. "Oh. Ah---"

"It's not how it sounds," John explains hurriedly. " Cuddles wasn't real. It was a virtual pet."

"Like a yamagouchi?"

"Right. Didn't feel a thing."

They smile and stare at each other again. Morris returns with three cups and hands them out. John takes several swallows and gives me a reproachful look. It is possible he is upset because I mentioned Cuddles. Perhaps he cared about Cuddles more than I realised and doesn't like to be reminded of its passing.

Or not.

"So you know Becca?" John asks Kate.

"From way back. We were at Pony Club together as kids. I lost touch after her father ran off with that awful topless dancer."

"Do you ride? Horses, I mean."

"Everyday if I can. Mom says I was born in the saddle. You?"

"Some. I learnt when we lived in Mexico. Not so much lately."

"You could join me if you like. There's like a ranch. It's not far, just out in the valley."

"Thanks, I----"

Sirens sound outside. A voice amplified through a megaphone booms, "This is the police! Stay where you are!"

Kate says, "Oh God! I can't be arrested. I'll miss my exam. Is there another way out of here?"

"I don't know. Is there?" John turns to me.

"Side door. Keep left."

"Thanks. Nice to meet you both."

Kate Brewster leaves dragging a reluctant Morris with her. "Call me. Please. I'm in the book," he yells at us above the music.

John finishes his punch. "Let's check it out."

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A black and white police vehicle is parked outside, lights flashing. Two uniformed policemen get out, their hands resting lightly on their holsters.

"Hold up, people. Who's house is this?"

Becca reels drunkenly across the front lawn. "Hey fellas, great outfits. You look just like real cops."

"We are real cops, Miss. Is this your party? We've had a number of complaints about the noise."

"No-oo, you're too young and cute to be cops. Why I could just eat you up. Yum. Hey, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?"

"It's a Colt."

"You named it?" Becca giggles. "Come up to the house and I'll get you a brewski. Brewski's all round!"

"I'm gonna need to see some ID."

"ID? Can't you tell who I am? I'm Xena, Warrior Princess. I'll kick your sorry ass!"

"All right, that's enough bullshit. Arrest the drunken bitch. The rest of you, put your 'brewski's' down and go home. Now. Don't make us check IDs. And someone turn off that damn rap music. Haven't you people heard of jazz? Charles Mingus? Thelonious Monk? Charlie Parker? Shit, just a bunch of rich white kids trying to act ghetto."

"Hey, what are doing?" Becca yells as she is escorted away. "Let go of me! I'm Xena, Warrior Princess! Help! Gabrielle! Gabrielle!"

One of the policemen heads towards the house. I grab John's wrist. "We need to go."

"Lemme finish my drink."

"Now."

---------------------------------------------------------

"I'll drive."

"No. You're intoxicated. There is significant alcohol in your bloodstream. Becca lied. The punch was not non-alcoholic."

"Fine. Have it your way - Mom!"

John's voice is slurred and he is unsteady on his feet, but he boards the jeep safely.

I steer through crowds of partygoers streaming away down the street. I spot an Elvis hand in hand with a girl in a Roman toga. They are laughing and chatting. No one seems upset that the party has ended prematurely.

Except John.

"I was enjoing myself. For once. You ruined it."

"The police were there."

"Weird running into Morris. Too bad I had to lie. He was a friend. Like I have so many."

"It's for his own good."

John takes a folded piece of paper from his pocket and stares at it.

"What's that?"

"Kate's phone number."

"Why did Kate Brewster give you her number?"

"The horse riding."

"You're going horseriding with Kate Brewster?"

"It's an option, okay. Why - don't approve?"

"It may interfere with your destiny."

"Right. My destiny." John laughs bitterly. "Remember that party I throw in the future?"

"The Los Angeles Accord."

"Yeah. The speech I give, something about being born a free man and fighting as a free man. What a crock! I'm not a free man. I'm John Connor, Destiny's bitch!"

"You're drunk."

"And you're a machine! But I'll be sober in the morning."

"But--"

"No more talk." John holds up his hand. "I'm gonna rest my eyes. Tell me when we're home."

Time passes. His breathing pattern slows.

"John?"

No response. He is asleep.

I retrieve the piece of paper from his pocket, take out my cell and dial the number.

"Hi, you've reached Kate Brewster. I'm not in right now. Leave a message after the beep."

BEEP!

"Leave John alone."

I crumple the paper in my fist and fling it out the window.

As the jeep takes the off-ramp curve John's body shifts sideways against mine. His head lolls on my shoulder. If I turn my head my face is just inches from his. I stop the vehicle at the kerb and turn off the lights. In the darkness I lean over and gently press my lips against his.

He stirs but doesn't open his eyes. "...Riley?.."

"I'm here," I answer in Riley's voice. "Everything's fine."

I press my lips back against his. Softly then with greater urgency I feel him respond.

-000-

Kate Brewster from T3. And T4 apparently. Seems to be a ginge in both so I'll write her that way.

The ending? They snog. That's it. Shame on you for thinking dirty thoughts,lol.

But Cameron pays a high price for her deception in the next two chapters...