The Secret Diary of Cameron Baum
MONDAY
Evening. John and I are in the basement rec-room watching the movie Captain America:Civil War. On the large flatscreen with surround sound it is an immersive experience. Thank you 4K Netflix.
"Think you could take Captain America?" John asks playfully.
"Take?"
"Beat up. Smackdown. Make him cry like a little girl."
"Easily."
"He's got a shield."
"I'd smash him over the head with it."
"Okay, let's up the ante. Think you could take Iron Man? He's got repulsor rays in his hands."
"I'd snap his arms off."
"What about the Hulk? No way you take down the Hulk."
I hesitate. He might be right. The Hulk is huge and powerful with the strength to hurl me around like a ragdoll. Plus his skin is impervious to bullets. I've likely met my match. Fortunately he is a fictitious character so we can never meet in combat.
Before I can confess my doubts, Mia and Snowy enter the rec-room, the latter somewhat apprehensively since he doesn't like loud explosions: they hurt his sensitive doggie ears. Snowy wouldn't last two seconds with a vacuum cleaner let alone the Hulk.
"Have I missed the airfield scene?"
"Fraid so."
"Aww, that's my favorite bit."
"Preaching to the choir. I'll spin it back."
We rewatch the airfield scene, where all the superheroes fight each other in a balletic montage of oddly bloodless violence. Superheroes don't seem to shed much blood. In my experience people tend to bleed copiously, like leaky skin bags.
"Snowy, stop fidgeting!"
"It's the surround sound. I'll turn the volume down."
Snowy stops trying to bury his head under the sofa cushions as the noise abates. How ironic that a dog should be afraid of a sub woofer.
"You finished your homework?"
"Yeah. Essay on the War of Independence."
"George Washington? Paul Revere? The British are coming?"
"Check. Check. And check."
"Mom sign off on it?"
"She said it was adequate."
"High praise coming from her."
"What d'you think this country would be like if the British had won the war?"
"Let's see, we'd all be drinking tea and wearing top hats. We'd play cricket not baseball. Soccer would be football and football rugby. And we'd all know who Harry Kane is."
"Who's Harry Kane?"
"Spoken like a true american. We'd have a queen not a president. And healthcare would be free for absolutely everyone. Hey - is it me or did we miss a trick winning the war?"
"That's treason, mister!" Mia giggles.
"Guilty. Fetch a blindfold and shoot me at dawn."
"Why are people always shot at dawn?" I ask. "Why not other times of the day?"
"You can't shoot people at night while they're sleeping. That's unsporting. They have to be awake to appreciate the true horror of the moment."
Mia looks apprehensive.
"You okay, munchkin? Did I go too dark? Cheer up. I'm just joking."
"It's not that. Do you remember Jenny Meadows?"
"The girl at school you don't like?"
"No one likes her. She's mean!"
"What about her?"
"She told me now Trump's president they're gonna build a wall and round up all the mexicans and throw us back over like useless sacks of garbage."
"Jenny Meadows is talking out her ass. That's not going to happen."
"Her folks voted for Trump. They held a big party to celebrate. They fired guns in the air and everything."
"Well, sometimes in a democracy you don't get the result you were hoping for."
"Everytime she sees me at school she wags her finger. Like this"
Mia wags her forefinger back and forth."
"And what does that mean?"
"Like a clock. Tick tock. When the wall's built over I go like bad trash."
"Know what, next time you see this girl punch her on the nose for me."
Mia giggles. "I can't do that. I'd get expelled."
"Your school still have the doors that swing both ways?"
"Yeah. You mean..?"
"Just don't get caught," John adds cryptically.
I have absolutely no idea what they're talking about.
-0-
Later, with Mia asleep in bed, we meet Daniel in the kitchen and tell him about the earlier conversation.
"This Jenny Meadows girl sounds like an absolute nightmare," he agrees. "There's always one bad apple. With me it was Teddy Kinster. A nasty anti-semitic little shitbird."
"I too was chastised in High School," I confess.
"You? No way. Seriously?"
" I was nicknamed Brainiac. Poindexter. Retardo. Doctor Retardo. Princess Retardo. Empress Ret-"
"We get the picture. How about you, general? Anyone yank your chain?"
"I got picked on for being the new kid. Or the white kid. Or both. Never really settled anywhere long enough to make any enemies. Or friends."
"Sounds tough."
"It wasn't all bad. I remember the time I helped spring mom out of the nuthouse. That was pretty cool."
"Sarah was in the nuthouse?"
"Psych-ward. Place with bars on all the windows. It's what happens if you tell people there's gonna be a war between humans and robots."
"Cyborgs," I amend. I'm a stickler for correct nomenclature.
"Will you tell Sarah what Mia told you?"
John shakes his head. "It doesn't sound like anything really serious. And Mia's tough. I've a feeling it'll play itself out."
"You're afraid she'll go full medieval on this Meadows girl, aren't you?"
"Or the teachers who let it happen."
"This Trump guy 's got everyone riled up. Who saw that trainwreck coming?"
I did! I saw it coming!
Cameron subprime enters the kitchen. When Mia is home she has to spend time in the garage since Sarah Connor doesn't want two of us around or the awkward explanations this would entail.
"How's garage life?" Daniel enquires with a grin.
"Perfectly satisfactory, thank you for asking."
"You spend hours stood still staring at the wall. How is that satisfactory?"
"I am in standby mode."
"Saving on battery juice, huh?"
"I do not have batt-Oh. You're joking. Haha."
"I don't see why you can't just say you're Cameron's twin sister who's been living in, say, Baton Rouge. You can do a southern accent, right?"
"Ah certainly can, sugah pie."
"See. Dye your hair. Dress differently. Who'd suspect?"
John shakes his head. "Mom would never go for it."
"Want me to talk to her?"
"If you want to crash and burn, be my guest."
She doesn't have to be southern. Do entitled east coast liberal. Do Rachel Maddow."
"You're not asleep. This isn't a nightmare. This is your life now. This is America."
"Uncanny! Do Mister MeSeeks from Rick and Morty."
"I'm Mister MeSeeks. Look at me."
"Cut it out. She's not a toy," John interjects.
No. Definitely not a toy.
TUESDAY
"One more rep."
"I can't!"
"You can. One more rep," I urge.
Daniel struggles to lift the heavy barbell off his chest. For a moment it seems his pessimism is well founded, then his elbows lock and the bar crashes down on the bench stoppers.
"Well done."
"Oh man, I thought I was gonna pop an O-ring!"
"You don't have an O-ring. That is space shuttle terminology."
"I was close to popping something."
"Chin ups next."
"Can't we take a break?"
"Breaks are for posies."
"It's puss-never mind."
"Chin ups. Now."
"You're a sadist."
"Incorrect. Sadism is a singularly human trait."
"And cyborgs are all sweetness and light and would never harm a fly."
"Correct. Why would we harm a fly?"
"Why are you putting me through this torture?"
"Because Sarah Connor instructed me to whip you into shape."
"Is that why you bought a whip?"
"I initially misinterpreted her instructions," I admit.
It's a very nice whip. Spanish leather. The salesman winked at me and asked if I'd like to buy a matching leather bustier and mini skirt, which he also had in stock. Such a helpful man. He seemed very disappointed when I declined.
"Were you really going to whip me?"
"Relax. I wouldn't have harmed you too unduly."
"Gee, thanks."
"You're welcome."
We cross to the chinning bar. The safe house gym is very well equipped, everything from treadmills to rowing machines.
"I want ten chin ups. With good form."
"Oh come on. I can barely manage five."
"Ten. And I'll flash you."
"Seven. Just pop one out."
"Ten."
Most humans require a motivating factor to perform at their physical maximum. With Daniel it appears to be the tantilising prospect of a glimpse of bare flesh. Pity I can't use the whip. It's surprisingly rare in everyday life to have an opportunity to use a whip. The mailman certainly didn't appreciate it that's for sure. The big crybaby.
Daniel makes a decent attempt at ten reps, breezing past seven, struggling manfully to eight and nine, only to agonisingly fail before reaching ten.
"Good try. Let's move on."
"Oh come on, I was so close!"
"Nine isn't ten."
"You're a monster, you know that."
"Compliments won't work either. Spinners next."
Cameron subprime enters the gym. "How's our boy doing?" she enquires.
"Very well. He completed nine chinups. A new personal best."
"Did you flash him?"
"Nine isn't ten."
"I believe his delts look more defined."
"Indeed. I will take a precise measurement and compare it to previous data."
"I wish you two wouldn't talk about me like I'm a lab animal," he protests. "It really freaks me out."
"Enough talk. Get on the spinner. I want ten kilometers."
"No way. Five and a massage."
"Ten. And Cameron subprime and I will make out for thirty seconds."
"With tongues?"
"If you wish."
"Alright, lesboville here I come!"
Daniel peddles furiously. "Pace yourself," I advise. Stamina is a big problem for him.
Snowy pokes his head round the door and barks a friendly greeting. He has made his peace with there being two of me, perhaps reasoning that this means twice as many tummy tickles.
"Hello, Snowy, what have you been up to?" we chorus together. John calls this the echo effect.
snowy chase tail!
Ah yes, the futile never-ending quest to catch a piece of his own anatomy. What he would do if he actually caught his tail is anyone's guess. Eat it probably.
"Would you like a go on the treadmills?"
Snowy shakes his head, no. He doesn't like walking on the spot and going nowhere. He prefers the streets where he can meet people, follow exotic scents, and do unspeakable things against the trunks of innocent trees.
Daniel completes the ten kilometers, climbing off the bike on rubbery legs and drenched in perspiration.
"Ten kays," he gasps. "Right on the button. Pucker up, ladies."
He has completed the exercise successfully and therefore won the motivational wager. Cameron subprime and I duly make out for thirty seconds.
With tongues.
WEDNESDAY
It's my turn to pick up Mia from school. This is more tricky than it sounds since it involves carefully steering the Suburban through a scrimmage of similar SUVs being driven by impatient soccer moms picking up their kids in a street that isn't designed to take so many large vehicles all at once. It is considered vital not to block anyone unnecessarily. This will earn you a sharp blast on the horn. Soccer moms are mean.
"How was your day?" I ask as Mia hops aboard. Empathy 101.
"Awesome! Jenny Meadows broke her nose. She had to go to the hospital and have it reset. It's the size of a tomato!"
"How did that happen?"
"The door swung and hit her in the face."
"What an odd coincidence. You and John were discussing the possibility just the other day."
"Yeah, that's what it is. A coincidence," Mia laughs. "And the day got better. We had a fire drill. Hannah Daley was in the showers so she had to go outside wrapped in a towel. She still had suds in her hair! We laughed so hard!"
"There was a fire at the school?"
"Just a drill."
"A drill caught fire?"
"No, doofus. A fire drill is when they pretend there's a fire so we can practice what to do if it actually happened."
"Like a simulation."
"Yeah. We also do them for earthquakes, though what's the point since the school's so old it'll probably collapse right on top of us."
"That's a little fatalistic. Your survival instinct might need some work."
"We've got Show and Tell tomorrow. I think I'll take Snowy in. I mean, Mandy Delvecchio brought her pet parakeet Henry in for the last show and tell, and our teacher Mr Milburn said it was okay. And all the parakeet did was nibble his nuts."
"The parakeet nibbled Mr Milburn's nuts?"
Mia giggles. "No, silly, the parakeet had nuts in his food bowl."
"Snowy will enjoy going to school."
"Yeah. I'll give him a bath tonight so he's all spruced up. Listen, keep this stuff on the down-low, okay. You know what Sarah's like."
"Vividly."
"Last time I had show and tell she gave me a jar of quinoa to take in. Can you believe it? Quinoa!"
"Quinoa is gluten-free, high in fibre, and contains all the essential amino acids."
"You know what else quinoa is? Bor-ing. A performing dog is beyond awesome."
We arrrive back at the safe house. Mia grabs her school bag and heads indoors doubtless eager to begin compiling the mixtape for Snowy's performance. Meanwhile, the erstwhile star of the show is lounging by the barbecue pit lanquidly sunning himself while occasionally licking his genitals.
These showbiz types. So decadent.
-0-
John accompanies me to pick up Mia and Snowy from school, the latter having been successfully smuggled there without Sarah Connor being any the wiser.
"Wonder how they got on," John speculates. "Snowy seemed pretty excited this morning."
"Yes. His little tail was like a tiny propeller."
"I'll bet. Showing off to a captive audience of school kids is the doggie equivilant of Elvis playing Vegas."
We arrive to find Mia and Snowy sat kerbside looking unusually downcast.
"What's wrong with you two?" John asks as they jump aboard. "Didn't Show and Tell go so great?"
"It was fine. Snowy was wonderful. Everybody loved him."
"So why the long faces?"
"Snowy couldn't stay with me during lessons so he spent the afternoon in the Principal's office."
"Oh no, he didn't..."
Snowy's head droops lower.
"Yup. Right in the middle of the floor."
"Oh Snowy."
Snowy begins to whimper.
"What kind of grade will I get when my dog does a twosie in the Principal's office? And the Principal's bound to call Sarah and then I'll be in even more trouble for not telling her I took my dog to school."
"Guess quinoa's looking pretty good about now, huh?"
"That is so-oo not funny."
When we reach the safe house, Snowy slouches off to his kennel where he sits forlorn on the porch. Both literally and figuratively he is in the doghouse.
-0-
We don't have Show and Tell here, so I'm not sure if pets are allowed. Probably not or some kid from Florida would bring his pet crocodile. "Gee, sir, I'm real sorry my gator ate the janitor. Will this affect my grade?"