The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum

MEXICO Day One

I am riding in a stolen Mercedes sedan with Sarah Connor at the wheel, John seated beside her, Snowy and myself in the rear. Snowy is staring intently out the window at the passing landscape. His ears wag occasionally.

"Woof, woof!"

snowy in mexico?

"Yes."

snowy not see salma hayek

"Keep looking," I advise.

"Is that dog going to keep barking?" Sarah Connor demands irritably. "Because I'm getting a little sick of it."

John says, "He's just being friendly, mom. Lighten up. We've come a long way."

"Just let him be friendly more quietly."

It is four hours and ten minutes since we stole the Mercedes from a vacation resort a few miles from the place I beached the powerboat that brought us to Mexico. Sarah Connor is presently breaking the speeding laws by an average of fifteen mph as we head towards the Santa Madre mountains where she hopes to contact Miquel, a friend and ally from her past. The air-conditioning is running at full power. It needs to. Mexico is hot, dry and dusty. Outside the temperature is 109 degrees.

"You're sure this vehicle isn't lo-jacked?"

John replies, "It's clean. I don't think lo-jacking is that common south of the border."

"Good. Last thing we need is the local cops tracking our every move."

We enter a small village, the first sign of habitation in over two hours. Some stray chickens scatter at our approach. Sarah Connor brings the vehicle to a halt beside a payphone. "Stay here," she orders.

We get a blast of furnace heat as the door opens. John stretches his arms and turns to face me. "You two okay back there?"

snowy fine, thank you, john

"You need to do any doggie business?"

snowy go poopsies later

"Okay, but I warn you mom won't be stopping until we get there."

"Get where?" I ask.

"Wherever Miquel is, I guess."

Outside Sarah Connor is talking to someone on the payphone, frowning often and gesticulating with her hands. She keeps feeding pesos into the slot. Her grey tanktop is turning dark with perspiration. Humans do not possess internal thermostats and therefore must shed moisture through their skin pores in order to stay cool. Ineffectual, smelly and totally gross in my opinion.

"Got a lead on Miquel," she announces returning to the Mercedes.

"You spoke to him?"

"No, but he knows we're coming."

"You're putting an awful lot of trust in a guy we last saw twenty years ago."

"Miquel has never let us down."

"A lot can change in twenty years."

-0-

It is now mid-afternoon and we are high in the Santa Madre mountains. The air is thinner at this altitude, less oxygen for human lungs. John and his mother's respitory patterns are more laboured than than at sea level, their heartrates elevated. My systems are nominal. I don't require oxygen. A squirt of WD40 and I'm good to go.

The Mercedes slows to take a tight hairpin turn. As we round the corner a Land Rover is blocking the road with two men leaning against it pointing Uzi machine guns in our direction. A crude but effective ambush.

"Okay, stay calm. I was told there'd be a welcoming committee."

"Some welcome," John grimaces. "What do they do if they don't like you?"

"Sarah Connor, por favore?" One of the men yells.

"Si, est Sarah Connor."

"Out of the vehicle all of you. With your hands where we can see them."

We get out. One of the men searches us for hidden weapons. He finds none. Except me. I am all the weapon he could handle. And more. He nods to his companion. "They're clean, Roberto."

"Good. Miquel tell me to ask you a question. If you answer it correctly you are who you claim to be. If not, you are spies and will be shot."

"What's the question?" a tense Sarah Connor asks.

"What was Miquel's pet name for you?"

Sarah Connor smiles. "He called me Chi-Chi."

The Uzis are lowered. Smiles all round. It seems this is the correct answer. Mine would have been: pain in the ass.

"I'm Roberto. This is Carlos. Welcome to Mexico!"

-0-

"Chi-Chi? That's what Miquel called you?" John demands as we follow the Land Rover higher and higher up narrow winding roads.

"Among other things. That was his favourite though."

"So you two were pretty serious?"

"I never claimed to be a nun, John."

"How come I didn't notice any of this?"

"You were eight years old. All you were interested in was that damn dirtbike you rode everywhere."

John smiles wistfully. "I built it from scratch. It was a lean mean machine and I rode it nonstop."

"Like me," I quip.

"Why didn't you marry him when he asked you?"

"Miquel's a communist, you know that. He would never have agreed to come with me back to America, a country he mostly despised. And the war against Skynet won't be won in Mexico."

"He's gonna wonder why I'm not nearly thirty. I was eight years old twenty years ago."

"Yeah. The timejump."

"What do we tell him?"

"I don't know. Vitamins? Sea air?"

"It's not a joke, mom."

"I know. We'll just have to bluff it out."

The Land Rover slows to a stop before a chainlink gate. Carlos gets out and unlocks it. He motions us to follow him.

It leads to a campsite situated in an abandoned quarry. RV's nestle between huge piles of spoil, shale and gravel fines dug from the ground when some kind of ore was extracted. No one ever bothered to fill in the holes. Again, careless.

We leave the Mercedes. It is hot but not as hot as the lower plateau. John looks around and quips, "I guess we're not in Kansas any more."

Odd. When were we ever in Kansas?

A tall, powerfully built man emerges from one of the RVs. He has dark hair starting to grey at the temples. He is wearing a white vest and blue jeans. He throws his arms wide in greeting.

"Chi-Chi! Welcome, welcome!"

"Hola, Miquel. It's been a long time. You're looking well."

"All the better for seeing you." He stares at John and frowns in puzzlement. "John? No, it's not possible. He would be almost thirty now and you are just a boy, a bambino."

"It's me, Miquel. John Connor. And it's a long and very complicated story."

"For another day?"

"Sure. It's good to see you again."

"And you my friend." They hug. Miquel squints at me. "And who is this vision of loveliness?"

Sarah Connor introduces me. "This is Cameron. Our - uh - cousin. She's travelling with us."

He reaches out and kisses my hand. "Any friend of the Connor family is a friend of mine. Long journey?"

"Oh yeah. You wouldn't believe it if we told you."

"Are you still in the same line of work, Sarah? Plotting to overthrow the Military Industrial Complex?"

"Uh huh. And you, Miquel? Still waiting for a Mexican Fidel Castro to rise up and free your people from capitalist tyranny?"

A thin smile. "It will happen, Sarah. We must have faith. Now, welcome as you all are, why have you come here?"

"Things got a little hot and heavy in the States. We need somewhere to lie low for a few weeks. And some other stuff I'll explain later. If that's too much to ask then we'll leave."

"Nonsense, Sarah! You are my very special guests. We are much depleted these days. The old ways no longer appeal. Just a few true believers remain. And I'd like you to meet my daughter, Mia. She is seven years old."

"You're married?"

"Widowed these past three years. I am raising her myself as best I can. As you did with John. It is hard work, no? Come, I will show you your quarters."

-0-

Sarah Connor gets an RV to herself. John has to share with someone named Antonio, the only other person here apart from those we have already met. Miquel leads me to an RV far away from the others. "We have no other women in the camp," he explains. "So you will be sharing with my daughter Mia. She is shy. Be patient with her."

Miquel knocks on the door then opens it without waiting for an invite. Inside a small girl is perched cross-legged on a narrow cot. She looks up as we step in. She has long dark hair parted in the middle, olive skin, a small nose and surprisingly full lips for one so young. She looks rather miserable.

"Mia, this is Cameron. A friend of a friend. She will be staying here with you for a little while. And look, she has a pet doggie. His name is Snoopy."

"Snowy," I correct.

Snowy bounds in and barks a greeting. He is incorrigible. The girl Mia ignores him.

Miquel smiles. "Like I said, she is shy. I will leave the two of you to get better aquainted."

The door closes. I place my bag on the spare cot. It contains two pistols, ammo, a toolkit, a change of clothing, and of course my secret diary.

Snowy barks another greeting. Mia again ignores him.

why girl not say hello to snowy?

"She's shy."

snowy think girl look sad

"Yes, I think so too."

snowy do tricks to cheer her up? snowy chase tail?

"Another time. It is very cramped in here."

Mia stares at me. "Why are you talking to the dog? You can't understand each other."

"Yes we can."

"Liar!"

Mia turns her back on us. Unfriendly much? Yes, indeed.

I step out of the RV to see John stood outside his. Loud music is coming from it. I walk over to him.

"The noise is Antonio," he explains. "He's colombian and he likes to play Shakira very loud. It's an acquired taste. How you settling in?"

"Fine."

"No patrols tonight. And you'll have to pretend to sleep."

"How do I do that?"

"Lie in bed and close your eyes. We won't be here long. Just until we get new fake IDs sorted."

"May I borrow your iPhone?"

"Sure." John hands it to me. "You won't get a signal way up here though."

"Not necessary."

-0-

Mia is still seated on the cot when I return. Snowy is on the floor staring at her. His head is tilted to one side as if he is not sure what to make of strange humans. I know the feeling.

"Here, this is for you," I tell her handing over the iPhone.

"Cell phones don't work here. And Papa says they are the tools of the capitalist oppressers."

"It is not for making calls. It will help you understand what Snowy is barking."

"Impossible."

"Snowy, say something to Mia."

"Woof, woof!"

hello mia! my name is snowy!

Mia stares at the screen as the words appear. She purses her lips. "This is a trick."

"No trick. Ask him a question."

Mia holds up three fingers. "How many?" she asks.

three! snowy can count!

Mia frowns and holds up five fingers. "How many now?"

five! mia tickle snowy behind the ears?

Mia stares at Snowy then at me. "El Diablo!" She crosses herself in a gesture that appears to have some religious significance.

El Diablo. The Devil. Is this my new nickname?

I like it.

-0-

MEXICO DAY TWO

In the morning I find John and his mother seated with Miquel at a table outside his RV, which is the biggest and most modern here. An awning provides welcome shade.

"Hola, Cameron!" Miquel hails me.

"Hola."

"Join us and have something to eat. Today it is paella."

"No, thank you."

"Cameron's on a diet," Sarah Connor smirks. "It's a girl thing."

"But she is too skinny already! She has no curves. Myself I like something with meat on the bone."

"Try a chicken," I suggest.

When Miquel stops laughing at my apparent joke we get down to business.

"We require a new set of IDs, good enough to fool the American authorities," Sarah Connor explains. "Can you help us?"

"Si. There is a man in Guadlajara who provides such a service. At a price."

"How much?"

"Thirty thousand. Each. Dollars not pesos."

"It's a little steep but what choice do we have. How soon?"

"A few days. A week at most. I will make the arrangements."

"Thank you, Miquel."

"Anything for you, Chi-Chi." Miquel smiles. I note he has a gold incisor. Maybe I should get one. Bling suits me.

"John, do you like soccer?"

"Uh - I guess."

"Tonight Mexico play England in a friendly at the Azteca. I understand David Beckham will play. My RV has the only TV reception." He waves his hand at the satellite dish on the roof. "You are welcome to join us. The game starts at eight. There will be beer, naturally."

"Thanks, Miquel. I'll keep it in mind."

Miquel leaves us alone. Sarah Connor says, "Ninety thousand. That's pretty much all we have. You said Cameron has money?"

"Yeah, her poker winnings. We'll be fine."

"Good because I'm a little old to start waitressing again."

"Yes," I agree. "You are too old."

She frowns at me and mutters a curse under her breath. Was it something I said?

-0-

Noon. John and I take a walk together. Once we are clear of the main camp we hold hands. Lovers do this. We do this.

"I think Antonio's gonna watch the match tonight."

I nod. "England are a strong team, Ramona told me this. They have Beckham."

"Meaning?"

"They have Beckham."

"Still not sure what that means, but anyway the RV's gonna be empty. I thought we could have a match of our own." He squeezes my hand.

"You want to play soccer? Shall I bring a ball?"

John squeezes my hand firmer. "No, doofus. I meant a little one on one time."

"Oh."

"Are you up for it?"

"I'm usually lying down for it."

"I'll take that as a yes. Eight-fifteen my place."

"It's a date," I confirm. "Should I bring anything?"

John smirks and whispers in my ear. Well, of course I'm going to bring that! If I was human I'd be blushing now.

We walk past a huge pile of gravel tailings. There hidden behind it is a graveyard of automobiles.

"Wow," John says. "There must be fifty vehicles here."

This is correct. Fifty-eight to be precise. Some are old and rusty, others newer and seemingly roadworthy. "Miquel stole these?" I ask.

"He's a communist. I think he sees it as redistributing the wealth."

"Then he's a thief."

"We can hardly judge. The powerboat? The Mercedes? It's up to Miquel how he lives his life. Nothng to do with us."

This turns out to be not quite true.

-0-

EVENING

At eight-fifteen precisely I knock on the door of John's RV.

"Come in."

I enter. John is seated on one of the cots. He is alone. From Miquel's RV comes the sound of raised voices, a sudden cheer. Mexico must be playing well despite the presence of Beckham.

"Close the door and lock it."

I do so. I notice the blinds on the windows are drawn.

"Did anyone see you come over?"

"No."

"Where's Snowy?"

"With Mia."

"So we won't be disturbed."

"No."

John smiles. "Unbutton your shirt and take it off. Slowly."

I do so.

"No underwear?"

"I thought it superfluous."

"You thought right. Now undo your pants and take them off. Slowly."

I do so. I like to obey orders, especially if they are John's.

I stand before him, unadorned. "Now what?" I ask. Does my voice sound husky? I think it does. Must be the thin air.

He begins to slowly unbutton his shirt. "Now it's my turn..."

-0-

MEXICO DAY THREE

Mia and Snowy are spending more and more time together. I watch from the RV this morning as they pass by, Mia staring at the screen of John's iPhone while Snowy gambols at her feet telling her stories of our time in LA. She laughs occasionally. I have never seen her laugh before. She is very pretty when she laughs.

"Oh Snowy, you never did!"

woof!

"That sounds awesome! I wish I'd been there! I'm stuck here all the time. I never get to do anything."

They vanish from sight. It occurs to me I seldom see them during the day. Where do they go? I am curious and slightly...possessive? Should I feel this way? Should I feel anything at all? I suppose there's a first time for everything.

I follow at a discreet distance, not wishing to alert either to my presence. They leave the camp proper and head along a stony road I have not noticed before. At the end is a tall wooden fence. There is no sign of Mia or Snowy. They appear to have vanished into thin air.

"Come along, Snowy. We don't want to be late. The boat will leave without us."

Mia's voice from the other side of the fence. But how did they get there? The fence is six feet tall without a entrance. It is unlikely either could've climbed it without difficulty or me seeing. So how..? There. One of the planks is loose, hanging by a single nail which acts as a pivot. Push it to one side and a gap is created large enough for a small girl and an even smaller dog to sqeeze though. But not a terminator.

CRASH!

Now the gap is large enough. Indeed a dozen terminators could pass through. My bad.

The ground rises for a few hundred yards then drops away precipitously. Below me is a crater or huge pit. In the centre is a lake, several hundred yards in diameter. I surmise this must be part of the quarry, now long abandoned but never filled in. The water is most likely from an underground source since Mexico is a dry country and what little rainfall there is would soon evaporate.

"I'm captain this time. You were captain last time. Fair's fair."

Mia and Snowy have descended the steep shale and gravel sides and are stood at the shore of this artificial lake. A tall post has been hammered into the ground right at the waterline. Attached to it by rope is a black inflatable rubber dinghy.

"Oh look, there's Cameron."

Mia has spotted me. I descend the slopes, often sinking up to my knees in the loose shale. "What is this place?" I ask.

"It's the biggest ocean in the world."

This reply is so preposterous that my CPU does not have an answer for it. The closet it supplies is - what the f-? This is not appropriate language for a child of Mia's age.

"This is our cruiseliner," Mia continues, still hardly making sense. "I'm the captain and Snowy is the bosun. You can be a passenger if you like."

"A passenger to where?"

"We're going to Monte Carlo first and then on to Acapulco. It's a world cruise."

This seems unlikely given this is a land-locked lake in the middle of the Mexican continent. And Monte Carlo and Acapulco are in completely different hemispheres. Just thinking about this absurdity makes my CPU overheat. Possibly the sun has got to Mia also causing her to talk nonsense.

Mia rows steadily across the lake's breadth, all the time issuing instructions to Snowy to keep the engines running. Engines? What engines? More signs of insanity.

"Here we are. Monte Carlo. Anchors away!"

We are moored beside a large rock that sticks out of the shale right at the waterline. There is no sign of the principality of Monaco, otherwise known as Monte Carlo. Why would there be? It is thousands of miles away.

"Are you going ashore, Snowy?"

woof!

Snowy leaps from the dinghy and begins to run in a circle, chasing his tail. "He's in the casinos playing roulette," Mia explains.

"He's on a bare rock chasing his tail," I point out.

"I hope he wins. Don't you?"

"He's on a bare rock chasing his tail," I reiterate.

"Look at the tall buildings."

I look. There are no buildings, tall or otherwise.

Snowy leaps back in the dinghy. "Did you win lots of money?" Mia asks.

woof!

"Then you have to give it away to the poor and needy, otherwise you're a greedy capitalist pig. You don't want that do you?"

woof!

"Good. All aboard? Acapulco here we come."

We head for the otherside of the lake where a similar rock juts out of the water. Mia steers us alongside. "Anyone for Acapulco?"

I carefully rise and step out. I have had enough foolishness for one day.

"Cameron's going to visit Acapulco," Mia informs Snowy. "She'll probably sunbathe on the beach. I hope she doesn't take her top off or people will stare at her boobies." She giggles at this prospect, which is extremely unlikely to say the least. "I said boobies!" she states and giggles some more. Even Snowy sniggers. It is all very odd.

"Right, Snowy, where shall we go now? London? Good idea. We can have tea with the Queen."

Mia rows back across the lake. It occurs to me this might not be madness I am witnessing but a demonstration of the human imagination, a kind of waking hallucination they apply to reality. Why and how they do this I am unsure. Even John struggles to explain this aspect of human behaviour. All I know is I can never hope to emulate it. Some human traits will always be beyond me.

"Hey!"

I turn. John is stood at the crater lip. He makes his way down. Mia waves from the dinghy while Snowy barks a friendly greeting. "Here you are," he says. "I wondered where you'd vanished to." He waves to Mia and Snowy. "Man, that's a big hole in the ground. Is the water safe?"

I bend down and skim the surface with my fingertip. Sensors analyse the sample and the data scrolls down my HUD. "It is mostly pure, just small traces of nitrates not in sufficient quanities to cause harm were you to ingest it."

"That settles it. It's a hot day; I'm going in."

John strips off his shirt and shoes and plunges headlong into the water. He swims effortlessly out to where Mia and Snowy are floating in the centre of the lake. He dives underneath the small craft and gives it a good shake from below. "Shark attack!" he yells surfacing beside it. Mia screams then laughs. "Do it again! Do it again!" John obliges. He fits easily into her imaginary world, becoming in turns a shark, a giant octopus, a tsunami, a giant lobster and a pirate ship. Each time Mia screams and laughs and implores him to do it again, do it again. I stand on the shore. Alone. Unnoticed. An observer. An outsider.

A sentinel...

Finally John swims back to the shore and joins me. The hot sun soon dries the moisture from his skin. He grins. "How deep is it out there?"

"Very deep. If I were to fall in it would be a long climb back. And my hair would be an absolute fright."

He laughs. "Girls! Always thinking of their hair!"

Mia and Snowy row towards the rock that is Monte Carlo in their imagination. Possibly Snowy will play roulette again.

"They make a cute couple, don't they?"

"Snowy likes Mia better than me."

"Oh I'm sure that's not true."

"They spend all their time together. He sleeps on her bed not mine."

"Cam, giving Mia that gadget so she can understand Snowy was probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for her. She's been lonely a long time with no one to play with. It was a very human thing to do."

"It was?"

"Yeah."

"You're so wise."

"Don't forget handsome," he grins.

"And very handsome."

"I like the very."

"I thought you would. And you have an enormous-"

John puts his finger to my lips. "Stop. What have I said about dirty talk?"

"Only in the bedroom."

"Is this the bedroom?"

"No."

"Okay, then."

-0-

MEXICO DAY FOUR

I wake. Or rather I open my eyes, which isn't the same thing at all. It is morning. I am lying on my bunk in the RV. I have been feigning sleep for three hours eight minutes. Across from me Mia stares at me with something like horror on her face. Do I have really bad bedhair? I hate it when that happens.

"I thought you were dead," she confides. "You weren't breathing and your chest wasn't going up and down."

I glance downwards, reactivating my pseudo-respitory functions. My chest rises and falls again in perfect imitation of real breathing. "That happens occasionally," I confess. "I forget sometimes. My bad."

"How can you forget to breathe?"

I decide now is not the time to explain autonomic systems and their usage. Instead I shrug and say, "It's a grown up thing. Maybe when you're older."

"You sound like my Papa."

"Do I sound like him now, munchkin?" I inquire, simulating Miquel's voice.

"Yeah!" A giggle.

She smiles at me. I notice she has a tooth missing in her upper jaw leaving an unsightly gap. "It fell out just before you arrived," Mia explains when I question her. "The tooth fairy left me fifty pesos."

"Tooth fairy?"

Mia proceeds to tell me about the tooth fairy, a creature of indeterminate size or origin, who collects teeth from under pillows in the dead of night in exchange for cash.

"You have seen this tooth fairy?" I ask.

"Oh no. She only comes when I'm alseep."

"It's a she?"

"All fairies are girls, silly."

"What does she do with all the teeth?"

A shrug. "I don't really know. Ooh - maybe she builds fairy houses out of them?"

Houses made of teeth? It seems unlikely yet I do not dismiss the notion entirely. In some countries humans construct domiciles out of such unpromising materials as straw and animal excrement. I would not put teeth houses past them.

"And where do the tooth fairies obtain the money to buy the teeth?"

Another shrug. "I don't know that either. Ooh - maybe Santy Claus loans it to them?"

Ah yes, the mysterious Santa Claus. He is an elderly philanthropist who gifts children presents each and every christmas on the basis they have been nice and not naughty. He has a list. He checks it twice. He is very anal that way. The motives behind the compulsive gift-giving are unclear. I suspect paediphilia. However when I disclosed my suspicions to John he laughed and shook his head without offering a more valid explanation. A thought occurs. Perhaps Santa Claus and the tooth fairies are in cahoots? And where exactly does the Easter bunny fit into all this? So many questions. So few answers.

I am intent on questioning Mia further on the tooth/cash barter system when the sound of gunshots comes from outside. I stand up immediately and make to leave the RV.

"Where are you going?" Mia asks.

"To investigate."

"It's probably just Roberto and Carlos blowing off steam. They do that sometimes. And you can't go out like that!"

"Like what?" Is my bedhair really that bad?

"In your underwear!"

She is right. What was I thinking. I put on boots and step outside.

-0-

Mia is correct in her assumption. The gunshots were Roberto and Carlos blowing off steam. I find them several hundred yards away in an area of flat scrubby ground. Both have pistols in their hands. There is the smell of cordite in the air. They smile when they see me.

"Hola, little one. Did you forget your clothes this morning?"

"Not all of them. What are you doing?"

"A little contest," Roberto explains. "We each throw a beer can in the air and whoever hits it the most times before it hits the ground wins fifty pesos." He indicates Carlos. "This one is a terrible shot. Truly terrible. I have won two hundred pesos already, and I have not even warmed up."

"The day is still young," Carlos replies.

"Then I hope your pockets are very deep."

"Your mother is a whore!"

Roberto grins. "You should know, compadre, you spend enough time with them."

Carlos' jaw muscles flex but he doesn't reply. Instead Roberto notices the Glock pistol I have with me and suggests I join the contest. And a wager on the outcome.

"I have no money on me."

"No matter. Why don't you wager your underwear? To make things interesting." He and Carlos exchange smiles, suddenly friends again.

"Very well. My underwear against your fifty pesos."

Carlos goes first. He throws an empty beer can in the air and fires his pistol as it reaches apogee. He hits it once, the other shots missing. He curses in fluent spanish and kicks at the ground in frustration.

"What did I tell you?" Roberto shakes his head. "Pitiful."

Roberto picks up a can and throws it high in the air. It turns lanquidly in the sky, sunlight glinting off its silvery edges. Four times bullets strike home before the can hits the ground. He smirks, obviously pleased with his effort. "Your turn, little one."

I pick up a can and toss it high into the Mexican sky, far higher than either Carlos or Roberto managed, higher than any human could achieve. My targeting graphics lock on. Time seems to stand still as it always does when I am in combat mode. Twelve bullets slam into the can before it strikes the ground, what's left of it anyway.

Roberto and Carlos stare at me, all smiles and laughter forgotten. I hold out my hand for the fifty pesos. Carlos crosses himself in the manner of Mia a few days before. "El diablo!" he whispers.

My new nickname is definitely catching on.

MEXICO DAY FIVE

Morning on our fifth day in Mexico. I join John and his mother at the table beneath the awning outside Miquel's RV. He is elsewhere. As are Roberto and Carlos. Antonio is in his RV, the sound of Shakira muffled by the closed door and windows.

Sarah Connor is eating from a bowl that contains whole grains, berries and milk. Very healthy. Very her. She puts down her spoon, frowns and says, "Something's wrong."

"The milk?" John suggests. "I know. The heat makes if go off real quick."

"Not the milk. Here. This place. Miquel used to have more people than this. Remember? There was laughter and singing. Whole families together, watching out for each other. It was a self-contained community."

"Like I said, people change in twenty years."

"And what kind of place is this to raise that little girl?"

"It's her home. Pretty much all she's ever known."

"She must miss playing with other children her age."

"Maybe you don't miss what you've never known," John suggests.

"Or maybe you miss it all the more for not knowing. And what's the deal with Antonio?" Sarah Connor continues. "Carlos and Roberto are the muscle. Henchmen. That's obvious enough. But Antonio? Sometimes it seems like he's in charge here and not Miquel. Has he said anything to you?"

"Antonio's a man of few words," John admits. "I did overhear them arguing one time."

"Arguing about what?"

"Us being here, I think. They shut up the moment they saw me listening. Maybe it's just Antonio doesn't like me sharing his RV. He's got a point. I don't see why I couldn't share with you."

"Oh you're not missing much. The aircon doesn't work and there's hardly room to swing a cat."

"Why do you want to swing a cat?" I inquire. "Is it like Pilates?" She ignores me and turns to John. "Miquel said you didn't turn up for the soccer match. How come?"

"No. I - uh - something came up."

"Twice," I confirm.

John's face reddens. "Uh - what Cameron means is...uh..."

His mother smirks. "I know what she means. I wasn't born yesterday."

"No," I say. "A great many yesterdays have passed since you were born."

This wipes the smirk off her face. Humans hate to be reminded of their yesterdays since it means the tomorrows become fewer and fewer.

Just then Mia and Snowy walk by. Mia has a towel draped over one shoulder. I don't require much processing power to deduce they are heading for the quarry lake. Snowy trots at her heels, tail wagging briskly. A sure sign he is happy and content.

"She's a cute kid," Sarah Connor says once they have passed by.

"Yeah, she is," John agrees.

"Pretty. Another ten years she'll look like a model. Her mother must've been very beautiful."

"Has Miquel spoken to you about Mia's mother?"

"No. I mentioned it once but he clammed up immediately. I guess it's still painful."

"Mia told me some bad men came to the camp and there was a fight. She was killed."

"Bad men? Cops?"

"She didn't know. She was very young then."

"She's very young now. Seems very fond of that dog."

"Yeah," John muses. "Maybe too fond."

"What d'you mean?" I ask.

"We'll be leaving soon. She'll be heartbroken when we take Snowy with us."

"So we leave the dog here."

"No, Snowy is my dog," I assert. "He comes with me."

"Maybe he'd like to stay here."

"No, he won't," I state emphatically.

Will he?

-0-

There will be three Mexico chapters. Apologies for the atrocious spanish. All of the characters would speak it - not me tho!

This had a number of false starts. Originally Mia was a teenager smitten with John. Didn't click. So she became younger and John swapped with Snowy. A girl/dog/cyborg love triangle!