The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum
SATURDAY
I am in the passenger seat of a high performance Italian sports car. Not the Ferrari; Becca has traded that for a Maserati. It is green. She says it matches her eyes but this is not the case; her eyes are at least two shades lighter and do not come with a metallic finish.
Unlike mine.
We are in the middle of an argument. Or rather a difference of opinion, since arguments I am usually involved in end in the violent death of the other person.
"I don't like it any more than you do, but a bet's a bet."
"A bet is not legally binding," I point out. "We do not have to do this."
"I know. But I bet Louise we'd be their slaves if we lost the cheerleading contest and that's just the way it is."
"Nothing was written down. There was no contract."
"Uh huh. But I'd expect Louise to honour the bet if she'd lost so we'll have to make the best of it. So what if we're slaves? It's only a day."
"Slavery was abolished in the last century."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"The square root of 569 is 23.85372."
"Huh? What are you saying?"
"I'm telling you something you don't know."
Becca laughs. "See, Cam, if you're making jokes it can't be that bad. And you might meet Jake again. You like Jake, don't you?"
"Jake will be there?"
"Sure, silly. It's his home too."
Jake is Louise Vandervelt's younger brother. One day in the future he will perform an act of heroism that will consolidate mankind's resistance to Skynet. It will also result in his death. It will be interesting to see him again. While he is still alive.
"It must be nice to have someone have a crush on you," Becca sighs. "No one's ever had a crush on me."
I expect to hear the usual maudlin self-pity at this point; it is her stock in trade. But she surprises me by snapping out of it almost before it begins. Perhaps it is because of the half-million dollars I gave her several days ago. I find the more money humans have, especially if they didn't have to work hard for it, the happier they are. And she didn't have to lift a finger for it.
"What's the time?"
I glance at my watch. This is the watch Becca bought me as a thank you present for the money I gave her. She does not really wish to know the time, since the dashboard clock is clearly visible, she merely wishes to draw my attention to her generosity. Another human foible I have come to understand and tolerate.
"Ten thirty."
She nods, smiling. "Can't beat a Rolex for telling the time."
Actually you can. My internal atomic clock informs me the Rolex, all five thousand dollars worth, has lost point-two of a second in less than three hours. As an accurate timepiece therefore it is worthless, but it makes a fairly attractive bracelet.
We enter Brentwood, a suburb of Los Angeles. The streets here are broad and lined with trees. The houses are individually designed and sit in large grounds protected by high fences or hedges. Many have security devices attached to the gates. Louise's house, for example.
Becca brings the Maserati to a smooth stop beside a wide metal gate, rolls down the window and activates the intercom set in a stone pillar.
"Who ees it, por favor?" A spanish accent. Probability: the maid.
"Becca and Cameron for Louise Vandervelt."
"One momento, please."
There's a click and the metal gates swing open. Becca parks the Maserati next to three smaller sports cars, one pink the others white and yellow. They belong to Louise and her friends, Alexis and Hayley.
The three girls meet us at the door. "Welcome, slaves!" giggles Alexis, who like the others is blonde and extremely thin.
"Yeah yeah. Let's get this nightmare over with, shall we?" Becca says.
"That's no way to talk to your masters, slave. You deserve to be punished for your insolence."
"And FYI, we're not doing anything disgusting. Or kinky."
"You wish!" Louise sneers. "And don't worry, you're gonna love what we've got planned."
"I'll bet."
Another bet? I hope not. Last time we lost.
VANDERVELT RESIDENCE
"You want us to - what?"
"Pedicures. You and freakshow are gonna give us pedicures. We've got all the stuff you need."
"You realise this is totally gross and demeaning?"
"Or you can clean the toilets. The house has ten the last time I counted. Your choice."
Becca sighs with resignation. "Fine. Get your manky toes out then."
I had not realised the human foot required such high maintenance. Take the toenail. This requires abrasion, the removal of old varnish using solvent, a primer coat for bonding, three layers of artificial pigment, and a final sealant coat of fresh varnish. All must be accurately applied by hand to each individual toe. It is time consuming but oddly engrossing. I wonder if John will let me paint his.
"Hey, she did a pretty good job," Hayley admits, wiggling her painted toes for the others to see. "Look, she even did the little pinky without smudging."
"You're lucky. This one's hopeless," Alexis tells her, pointing at Becca knelt at her feet.
"Hey, I'm doing my best. You've got huge cuticles. I've used half a bottle just on your big toes. It's like painting a barn."
"I've got beautiful dainty feet!"
"For a Hobbit!"
"Shut up, slave!"
"Would you give it a rest? You're so stupid sometimes, Lex."
"I'm not stupid!"
"Yeah right. Who was it thought auto-erotica meant sex with cars?"
"No, I didn't!"
"I heard you ask Louise if boys stuck it up the tailpipe."
"Yeah, well...it shouldn't be called auto-something if it doesn't involve automobiles. It just confuses people."
"Stupid people."
Alexis holds up her middle finger in reply.
"That your age or IQ?"
"Both! No - wait. Neither. I meant neither!"
Becca's derisive laughter fills the room.
"Speaking of automobiles - Is that your Maserati parked outside?"
"You know it is, Hayley. You saw us arrive."
"What happened to the Ferrari?"
"Traded it. I fancied a change. Plus the Maserart's green. It matches my eyes."
"Least it's not ginger to match your pubes," Louise sneers. The other girls snigger.
Becca frowns but says nothing. In the past such a remark would've caused her to retaliate heatedly. Perhaps this is a sign of the maturity humans covet and value so much, at least until it causes their hair to grey and skin to wrinkle then maturity is no longer quite as welcome.
"God, how did you persuade your father to buy you a Maserati?" Hayley inquires.
"Oh Daddy didn't buy it. He doesn't even know about it. I used my own money. Paid cash, actually."
"From your allowance? No freaking way!"
Becca smirks, glances at me then proceeds to tell them about our trip to Vegas, the money we - I - won at roulette. It is an abbreviated version and she makes no mention of the security guard it was necessary for me to terminate or the three casino employees who later came after us in an attempt to extort the money. They are now dead. Humans all die eventually, some sooner than others - especially if they encounter me.
"Omigod - a million dollars! For real?"
"Uh huh."
"And Cameron - what? Counted cards or something, like in the movies?"
"Not cards. Roulette. She calculated where the ball would land. And it did. Every time."
"Is that even possible?"
Everyone looks at me. I begin a simple explanation that involves physics, friction analysis, gravity fluctuations, predictive trigonometry and basic mass-inertia calculations, but Hayley holds her hand up interrupting.
"Whoa, don't bore us get to the chorus, brainiac. Can you really tell where the ball will land?"
"Yes."
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go to Vegas and make ourselves rich!"
Becca shakes her head. "We're not doing that again. Things got unpleasant towards the end. I don't remember it all; I was kinda wasted. But our fake IDs got busted and we had to get out ASAP."
"We have great fake IDs," Alexis boasts. "Louise is Darlene Delmar. Hayley's Felicia LaForge. And I'm Pepper LaPugh."
"Pepper LaPugh. So you're Pepi LePew, like the cartoon skunk? Ha! Fits you perfectly."
"Not Pepi LePew. Pepper. Short for Pepperdine."
"Pepperdine! That's not even a word!"
"Is to! It's a classy name for a classy lady. Me. Why, what's on your fake ID? Ginger Spud-u-like?"
"Good one, Lex!" Hayley sniggers.
"Yeah, way to show the love, Lex. Still expect us to take you to Vegas? No chance."
"But we want to be rich like you!" Hayley protests.
"You are rich, Hayles. Your father's a cosmetic surgeon. You're rolling in it."
"No, I'm not. Daddy's rich, not me. All I get's a monthly allowance. And If I'm overdrawn I get this snooty phonecall from my father's accountant lecturing me about fiscal responsibility. I don't wanna be fiscal - I wanna be loaded!"
"Buy a lottery ticket."
"Why - can Cameron predict those too?"
I shake my head. Hayley pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. "This is so unfair," she grumbles. "Beautiful girls like me shouldn't be poor. It's like a parrafin or something."
"You mean paradox."
"Yeah. That too."
"Here. This'll help. It always helps."
Louise takes a white stubby cylindrical object from her purse and hands it to Hayley.
"Is that a doobie?" Becca asks.
"Uh huh. It helps suppress my appetite."
"Really? With me it's the other way round."
"Yeah, we can tell."
"Bitch. Where did someone like you get weed?"
"Rochelle. At school. Her brother deals."
"Didn't he do time for dealing?"
"That's how I know it's good stuff."
Louise lights up and inhales the smoke from the cigarette. She holds it towards Becca. "You want some or you gonna be a tightass?"
Becca takes the cigarette and inhales. "Hmmm...good buzz."
The cigarette goes from Becca to Hayley and Alexis. Then it is my turn. I do as the others and inhale. My sensors indicate traces of a mild hallogenic. It will have no effect on me. But it is important to keep up appearances.
The cigarette - doobie - is passed around several times. We are all now slumped on the floor, except Louise who lolls on her bed, which has a pink frilly bedspread to match the pink wallpaper.
"I can't believe next year we'll all be in college," says Hayley. "Then after that - a job. I haven't a clue what I want to do. All I know is I want to get paid loads of money, wear great clothes and not do any work."
"So basically you want to be Paris Hilton?"
"Yeah! Only without the video stuff. So gross!"
"It's not so bad, if he washes it first." Alexis puts her hand up to her mouth. "Shit! Did I just say that out loud?"
"Sordid much!"
"Welcome to Skankville, population one!"
Everyone laughs. Except me.
"Personal hygiene is important," I acknowledge. "John showers regularly twice a day."
"John? Is that her boyfriend? Gag! Does she wear those fingerless mittens on dates? Major turn off."
"John's her brother," Becca explains. "You've seen him. He goes to our school."
"Oh yeah. He's kinda cute. Is he seeing anyone?"
"Kate Brewster."
"Do we know a Kate Brewster?" Hayley wonders aloud.
Alexis says, "We know a Kate Webster. Bad hair. Huge pores. Mother works for a living."
"No way!"
"Way. It's like living in the Dark Ages."
"Why d'you suppose they're called the Dark Ages?"
"Because in those days people were smaller than they are now. They couldn't reach the light switch."
"That is so true."
It isn't. It is historically inaccurate in every detail, but before I can point this out Becca says, "Kate doesn't go to our school. They met at my party. She's a friend of mine."
"Then we don't need to know her."
"She's a reddie like me."
"Strike two."
"And she loves animals."
"Strike three!"
The doobie gets passed around some more. There is a fug of smoke lingering in the air. Then Louise surprises us all by dreamily asking: "D'you think the dead can see or hear us?"
My social integration software pings; this is outside the normal parameters of teenage communication. I notice also Hayley and Alexis exchange anxious glances. Something is amiss. And it has happened before.
"Huh? What - like people who died?" Becca asks.
"People who knew you. Loved you, even. Relatives. Family."
"I don't anyone who's dead. Shit - I'm sorry, Louise. I forgot. Your mom..."
"Don't any of you wonder where my father is?" Louise asks in a strange monotone voice.
"Um - isn't he at work?"
"It's Saturday. Try again."
"Shopping at the Mall? I hear there's a sale at Barn---"
"Daddy hates shopping. No. He's with his mistress. She lives in the Valley."
"The Valley? Ewww!"
"She's a paralegal. Half his age. I followed them once. He'd rather spend time with her than his own family."
"Louise, I'm sure---"
"Mom lost a lot of weight before she...died. I weigh less than she did. That's why he spends so much time with that slut. I remind him of mom's illness, all the bad memories. He can't stand being around me."
"Did he tell you that?"
"He doesn't have to tell me anything. I drove him away. I know that much."
"Let's change the subject," Hayley suggests with forced jollity. "Hey - what's the deal with Lady GaGa? Does anyone else see a short, chubby jewish girl in a bad wig totally ripping off Goldfrapp?"
No one replies. Louise stares vacantly into space. Her eyes seem to glisten but perhaps it is a trick of the light.
There is a knock at the door. Becca, Alexis and Hayley frantically wave their arms trying to disperse the smoke.
"W...W...Who is it?"
"It's me, Jake."
Jake. Louise's younger brother.
Alexis sighs with relief and opens the door. "What d'you want, munchkin?"
"I wondered if----what's that smell?"
"What smell? There's no smell."
"Yes, there is. It smells really bad in here."
"Okay okay. Becca farted."
" I did not! Don't listen to her!"
"Hey look, Jake combed his hair."
"And he's wearing a new shirt."
"He combed his hair for his girlfriend!"
"He wearing a new shirt for his girlfriend!"
"Shut up!" Jake's face reddens. His tiny hands bunch into fists at his sides. He glares at Hayley and Alexis then glances in my direction. "I don't have a girlfriend!" he insists.
"What d'you want, Jake? We're busy."
"I - uh - wondered if Cameron would like to see my train set."
"Train set?" Alexis giggles. "Is that what boys are calling it these days?"
I climb to my feet and join Jake. As I pass her Alexis whispers, "Word up, Casey Jones. He's underage. So no flashing your junk."
What can she mean?
JAKE'S ROOM
I follow Jake down the corridor and round a corner. His room has a blue door with a message written on it.
JAKE'S ROOM
KEEP OUT!!!!
(THIS MEANS YOU, LOUISE)
Jake's bedroom is as large as his sister's but less pink, the bedspread less frilly. There are no stuffed teddy bears. I prefer it. Models of primitive flying machines dangle from the ceiling on thin wires, posed as if in aerial combat. There is a model of the Saturn V rocket that took humans to the moon. Posters on the walls depict acts of mock violence and destruction associated with popular entertainment. Two posters over his bed are photographs of girls. They are not on my database. Perhaps they are friends of his from school?
"I wish!" Jake replies when I ask. "That one's Hannah Montana. Miley Cyrus really; she just pretends to be Hannah."
I nod. Subterfuge. I know it well.
"The other one's Megan Fox. Remember Transformers from the last time you were here? Robots in disguise?"
I nod again. Robots in disguise. I am familiar with the concept.
"Why is she snarling?" I ask, curious.
"Uh - I think she's trying to look sexy."
"Snarling is sexy?" I bare my teeth and arrange my lips into a snarl. "Is this sexy?"
Jake's face reddens again. Is he unwell? It is important to the Resistance that he maintains full health and vigour. I reach out a hand and check the pulse in his neck.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"Checking your circulation. Blood has rushed to your head twice in five minutes. Your health might be at risk."
The extrapolated data from my finger sensors scroll down my HUD. His pulse is elevated for a person of his age and mass. Skin temperature and blood pressure are also slightly raised. I hazard a prognosis.
"Did my snarling scare you? I did not mean to frighten you. I was only trying to be sexy. Like Megan the fox."
He stares at me. "You're weird. You know that?"
"So I am repeatedly informed."
"And it doesn't bother you?
"Should it?"
"I guess not. You're not bad weird, just...odd."
"I could leave if my weirdness upsets you?"
"No! Uh - that is, you haven't seen my train set yet."
Jake picks up a small remote control from a side table and makes some adjustments. A small model locomotive begins to move along a small scale railway track which I notice winds in a haphazard manner all over the bedroom floor, even disappearing under the bed at one point.
"What d'you think?" he asks shyly.
"It's freaking cool."
"Really? Because most girls think train sets are lame. Louise thinks it's babyish."
"But you are not a baby."
"No. I'm not. Here. You want to try?"
I take the controls. They are basic, merely regulating the speed at which the train circulates. Nevertheless it is...enjoyable.
The train does several circuits under my command, speeding up and down at my whim. I notice Jake staring at me with a smile on his face.
"What is funny?"
"Nothing. It's just...you're really pretty. I've never had a pretty girl in my room before."
"Louise is pretty."
"But she's my sister."
"But still a pretty girl."
"I guess. Barf."
"Barf City?"
"Yeah!"
Finally I hand the controls back. "Thank you for letting me see your train set. I am sorry I can't flash you my junk but you are underage. Word up," I add so there is no misunderstanding.
Jake's face reddens again. Was it something I said?
I move to leave.
"Wait! Don't go yet. I like spending time with you."
"You do?"
"Uh huh. Listen - uh - you're sixteen, right? So...when I'm sixteen you'll still only be like in your early twenties. That's not old. I mean, it's pretty old but not that old. Maybe then we could...hang out. Together."
I access the the appropriate memory kernal.
The Resistance tunnels. Mess Hall. I pass Jake sitting at a table eating field rations. He smiles at me and pats the seat next to him, which I recognise as an unspoken invitation to join him. I do so. We talk. He is older. A handsome human male in his prime. He undertakes his mission tomorrow. He has less than 24 hours to live.
"Yes." I inform the young Jake back in the present. "We will hang out. Together. One day."
"You mean it? It's a date?" He smiles up at me.
"Yes. It is a date."
Ocober 18. 2028.
We sit in silence. Jake asks if I would like to listen to music, if I like Smashing Pumpkins.
"I don't know," I inform him. "I have never smashed a pumpkin."
He laughs. "You're funny!"
I am?
I am about to ask why I am funny when a scream comes from the corridor outside.
"What was that?" Jake asks.
"I don't know. But I am going to find out. You stay here."
"No, I'm coming with you."
"Very well. Stay behind me."
Commotion in Louise's bedroom. Everyone is yelling or shouting at once.
I take Becca to one side. Her eyes are wild. She is babbling. I shake her once, twice, three times. Her teeth snap together. She focuses on me.
"What is it? What happened?" I demand to know.
"It's Louise! She went out on to the balcony and climbed up on the roof. I think...I think she's planning to jump!"
"Why does she wish to jump? The fall will kill her."
"She's talking all crazy again," Hayley adds.
"Again?" Becca rounds on her. "You mean she's done this before?"
"Not the roof. That's new. She gets depressed and talks crazy sometimes. We think it's the meds she takes."
"She's on medication and you let her get baked?"
"Not proper meds; she buys them on the internet."
"Christ, Hayley, she could be taking anything!"
"You know Louise, anything to keep the calories at bay."
"Louise! Please come down!"
Jake yells up from the balcony, leaning right over to try and see upwards. I pull him away. He mustn't come to harm.
"Someone's got to go up there and fetch her down!" he pleads with us.
"Not you," I tell him.
"Someone has to! She'll fall!"
"What about you two?" Becca asks Hayley and Alexis.
"Us? Why us?"
"Aren't you supposed to be her best friends?"
"Sure. But...look, she'll be okay. Let's just wait---"
"No! We're not waiting! We have to do something now!" Jake yells. Again I have to restrain him.
"I'll go up," Becca announces. But no sooner has she climbed on the balcony railings than she is down again. "I can't do it. I'm sorry, Jake. I'm terrified of heights."
"Cameron! You'll go up, won't you? Please? For me?"
I hesitate. Louise's ultimate fate, whether she lives or dies, is irrelevent. I have no stake in it. But Jake...If I refuse to help his sister will it impact on the future, on his willingness to volunteer for the mission that will cost him his life, the mission I will recommend him for to future John?
I make my decision.
ROOF
The roof is constructed of heavy terracotta pantiles easily able to support my weight. There is a view of the road but it is obscured by the canopies of tall trees which cast deep shadows. No one will see me. No one will see what occurs here except the two of us.
Louise is on the southside, stood on the edge looking down on the sun terrace and pool below. I approach cautiously. She spots me.
"You."
Her voice is flat, emotionless.
"Your brother wishes you to come down. He is concerned for your safety."
Nothing.
"If you fall you will perish."
"What d'you care?"
"I care because Jake cares."
"He's better off without me."
"I disagree."
Louise turns and stares down at the ground below. I see my chance and seize it, moving as swiftly as possible across the pantiles.
Whether she meant to jump or my movement startled her I do not know. But Louise falls just as I reach her. I manage to grab her arm before gravity claims her.
My weight and velocity alter her trajectory. Instead of falling straight down we arc outwards, missing the hard surface of the sun terrace and land in the water of the swimming pool.
Terminators do not swim. I do not swim. I sink. My feet touch the bottom of the pool. With her various body cavities offering greater buoyancy Louise sinks more slowly. As soon as she is within range I grab her and walk across the base of the pool and up the steps in the shallow end.
"Louise!"
The others exit the house as I set down Louise's body on the tiled surround. I check her pulse. It is weak and thready. It is likely she ingested water.
"Is she going to be okay?" Jake asks.
"She requires CPR."
I step back. This is not a task for me. CPR requires air from one person's lungs being transferred to another's. I do not possess lungs.
"I'll do it. I took a class once. If I can remember," Becca says. "Come on, Vandervelt! Breathe. We called for an ambulance. Just hang in there."
The ambulance arrives with no discernible change in Louise's condition. The paramedics load her on to a gurney and transfer her to their vehicle. Jake climbs in the back with his sister, worry etched on his small, tear-streaked face.
"Someone should go with them," says Becca. "Hayley? Alexis?"
"Eww! A hospital? They're full of, like, sick people," Alexis states shaking her head emphatically.
"We don't do hospitals," adds Hayley. "Just like we didn't do roofs."
"Okay, I'll go. You know what? Louise is really lucky to have friends like you two. Really really lucky."
Since neither Alexis or Hayley have demonstrated any qualities normally associated with friendship, I concur this must be what humans term sarcasm.
HOME
I drive the Maserati home. John is seated in the kitchen. He looks up as I enter, noticing my damp hair and clothing.
"Interesting day?" he asks, deadpan.
"It had its moments."
Understatement. A human trait I have successfully mastered.
"John, d'you think I've time for a shower before your mom gets ho---Oh. Sorry."
Kate Brewster.
Kate Brewster standing in the doorway in one of John's shirts. And nothing else. Bare legs and feet. Pale flesh. Her face reddens like Jake's. Perhaps it's something in the air.
"Uh - hi. Cameron, isn't it? I'll - uh - go and get dressed."
John is not underage. Therefore it is likely junk flashing has occured here.
Word up.
-000-
Quick warning: Hey, kids, don't do drugs, they'll mess you up and ruin your short term memory and...something else...tip of my tongue...oh yeah... ruin your short term memory.
I've been hinting at some inner darkness in the Louise character for a few chapters and here it finally emerges.
Megan Fox. She has a feral quality Cam picked up on. Grrr...
Last chapter? Maybe. Maybe not...