by KB Shaw
• • •
“INCOMING MESSAGE,” said Sam.
Cameron rolled over in bed and squinted through blurry eyes at the clock on his nightstand. It was 6:37! “Who is it, Sam?” he asked through a yawn so deep it penetrated to his toes.
“Rosa Costas, Cameron.”
“Put her on, please… NO! Wait a second! I mean… Uh… Please wait, Sam.”
Cameron swung his legs over the edge of the bed and inserted his feet into the jeans that he had deposited, accordion-style, on the floor the night before. He was still wearing his shirt from the previous day. Hastily, he made up his bed, which amounted to not much more than throwing the bedspread over it. Finally, he sat down at his desk and said, “Put her on, please, Sam.”
He tried to give the impression he had been up for hours and was waiting for her. “About time, cowgirl,” he said, trying to get the upper hand.
“That won’t work, Cheese Boy. Obviously you just crawled out of bed. Your hair looks like you just took your head out of a blender.”
Cameron quickly tried to smooth his mop of brown hair.
“Oh, gross!”
“What?” asked Cameron testily.
“You’ve got a snot-wad hanging halfway out your nose!”
This was the final humiliation. Cameron turned his head away from the screen and dragged the back of his hand under his nose. Nothing!
“Ha!” said Rosa. “Gottcha! Gottcha good, Cheese Boy!”
“Very funny. I owe you big-time!”
“Quick, check your messages.”
“Any messages, Sam?”
“One, Cameron. It’s from a Ms Gwen Johanssen.”
Cameron gave Rosa a questioning look.
“We made it to the next level,” she said in reply to the unspoken question.
“So, what’s the next test?”
“Look at the message and see.”
Cameron asked Sam to display the message from Miss Johanssen.
Dear Rosa and Cameron,
I am happy to inform you that you have been selected to advance to the creativity phase of evaluation.
You have two weeks to submit something creative that you have done together. I’m sorry, but since you have applied as a team, you may not submit two items demonstrating individual creativity. It must be a team project. Something old or something new, but it must be from both of you.
G. Johanssen
Director of Communications
Cameron leaned back in his chair. “Any thoughts?”
“Something old or new, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what it says.”
“What about that project we did for the GundTech contest last year? We could submit that, maybe.” Rosa’s voice displayed no confidence in her suggestion.
“Nah,” said Cameron after only token consideration.
“Nah,” said Rosa in agreement.
“It needs to be something fun.”
“You could dance in a tutu and tights while I play the kazoo,” Rosa joked.
“Wait a minute, I do play trumpet. That’s creative, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I don’t dance.”
“Rosa, do you play an instrument?”
“No… not really. I can strum a few chords on the guitar. Nothing I would do in public. And my voice drives the coyotes away! So singing is out of the question too.”
They puzzled over the problem on and off all day Sunday and well into the night.
“We’d better sleep on it,” they agreed finally.
• • •
ON MONDAY MORNING Billy Parker visited Cameron as he shoveled golf balls into the ball washer.
“Mornin’, Cam.”
Cameron bristled at being called “Cam.” The only other way to shorten his name was “Ron,” but he didn’t like that either.
“Morning, Billy.” Cameron kept dumping shovel loads of balls into the ball soaker as he and Billy had another slow-motion conversation about nothing in particular.
Billy always liked to watch the conveyor transport the balls from the soaker to the scrubber and then watch the scrubber deposit them into the ball bin. Not once had Billy ever asked if he could feed some balls into the machine. At one point in the conversation, Cameron rested on the handle of the shovel and watched Billy concentrate on the process of the machine. Billy turned and smiled broadly at Cameron. His eyes beamed with joy through his thick lenses. There it was again—the trick of light, optics, and just the right tilt to Billy’s head.
An idea struck Cameron like a bolt of lightning. He set the shovel aside, put both hands firmly on Billy’s shoulders, and said, “Billy-boy, I’m going to make you into a star!”
Thirteen seconds later, Billy said, “Cool!”
• • •
THAT NIGHT, Rosa sat in her room making texture maps of Billy’s face from screen captures taken as he rotated slowly in front of Cameron’s com screen—one rotation with his glasses on, one without.
Both Rosa and Cameron were good with computer animation. They had used it extensively in the project they created for last year’s GundTech contest. The difference between them was: Rosa was an artist. She could draw and paint and sculpt. What Cameron could do was write and animate.
A story idea had come to Cameron in that moment of inspiration at the driving range. Cameron would describe the situation, characters, and locations while Billy was posing and Rosa was creating.
The next night, Cameron sent Rosa the completed script and she displayed the wireframe version of the “Billy” character for Cameron’s approval.
“Cool,” said Cameron, mimicking his friend’s voice.
Because of the remote location of Rosa’s house, it was up to Cameron to gather his friends to give voices to the characters, except for the parts of “Mother” and “Miss Hayes,” which were performed by Esmer Costas. Rosa was surprised to discover her mother had taken acting classes in college. They worked feverishly to get their production completed on time.
On the Sunday night before the deadline, Cameron’s family and friends gathered in his home. Ed Rush had moved his multiCom into the living room to accommodate the premiere.
The Holsteins found out about the project from Mrs. Costas, and they surprised Rosa with a premiere party next to the pool at the main house. Mr. Holstein positioned their large-screen multiCom so everyone could watch from the pool.
At the prescribed time, Cameron’s living room appeared on the big screen in New Mexico, and the picture of the people in the pool appeared in the Rush’s living room. They all cheered and waved merrily at each other.
“Ready, Rosa?” asked Cameron nervously.
“Roll it, Cheese Boy!” she beamed.
The two parties, taking place more than a thousand miles apart, shared a laugh.
“Ha! Cheese-boy!” said Jenny.
“Cheese Boy!” echoed Billy in record time.
Both locations became quiet as the show began.
Chapter 13:
Billy Four-Eyes
FADE IN on the interior of a car.
It is a bright, sunny morning. A MOTHER is driving her young son to school. The MOTHER is in her thirties and the boy, BILLY, is eight or nine. He is wearing rather oversized, thick-lensed glasses and doesn’t look at all happy. The MOTHER is trying to cheer her son up. Her hair is cut in bangs, which just touch the top of her large designer sunglasses.
MOTHER
It won’t be so bad, Billy. Sure, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to start at a new school in mid-term. But look at it as an adventure — a chance to meet new people!
She looks at BILLY, who hasn’t flinched. She nudges him with her elbow.
MOTHER
(continued)
Come on, Billy! Can’t you give your mother a little smile?
MOTHER
(continued)
(coaxing)
Come on…
BILLY doesn’t respond.
MOTHER
(continued)
BILLY finally nods.
MOTHER
(continued)
I knew it! But you don’t have to worry, Billy; lots of kids your age wear glasses. No one will pay any attention, and the doctor told you that these glasses were the only way to solve your eye problem, didn’t he?
BILLY nods in agreement.
MOTHER
(continued)
Mommy even wears glasses, doesn’t she?
BILLY gives her a “so-what?” sort of expression.
MOTHER
(continued)
Look there, Billy…
She points to a group of young girls walking toward school.
MOTHER
(continued)
See that girl in the pink dress?
BILLY looks back at the girls as they pass. The GIRL IN PINK is wearing glasses.
MOTHER
(continued)
And look over there…
BILLY sees two boys talking to each other. Both are wearing glasses.
MOTHER
(continued)
See? There’s nothing to worry about. Is there?
BILLY turns back to his mother.
BILLY
I… I guess not, Mom.
MOTHER swings the car into the school parking lot.
CUT TO: INT. MAIN SCHOOL OFFICE. DAY.
MOTHER and BILLY are standing at the front counter across from the school SECRETARY. The SECRETARY hands MOTHER some papers.
SECRETARY
Here you are, Mrs. Isensee.
SECRETARY
(continued)
Billy will come home on bus 26 this afternoon.
The SECRETARY lays out a map on the countertop and points to it.
SECRETARY
(continued)
He’ll get off right here.
MOTHER nods.
SECRETARY
(continued)
I’m sure that Billy will enjoy Miss Hayes’s class. She’s an excellent teacher.
(to Billy)
You’re in room 134. That’s just down the hall and to your left.
(smiling)
We’re pleased to have you with us, Billy.
BILLY is relaxing a little bit and smiles back at the secretary.
DISSOLVE TO: INT. SCHOOL HALL. DAY.
We see MOTHER and BILLY from the rear as they walk down the hall. She has her arm around BILLY’S shoulder. There are several groups of students walking up and down the hall on their way to classes. TWO GIRLS are walking toward the camera and as they pass by BILLY, they screw up their faces.
GIRL #1
Did you see that new boy?
GIRL #2
Yeah!
GIRL #1
Those glasses! They’re so thick!
GIRL #2
He looks like a mad scientist, or something!
GIRL #1
Bug eyes!
THE GIRLS cover their mouths to hide a laugh.
DISSOLVE TO: INT. CLASSROOM. DAY.
MISS HAYES walks to the door to greet BILLY. She puts a hand on each of BILLY’S shoulders.
MISS HAYES
So you must be Billy Isensee?
BILLY
Yes, ma’am.
MISS HAYES
Well, it’s so nice to have you with us, Mr. Isensee.
(giving BILLY a soft
pat on the back)
Why don’t you go find yourself a seat and meet some of your classmates?
BILLY smiles at MISS HAYES and crosses into the room.
MISS HAYES
(continued)
He’ll be just fine, Mrs. Isensee, but may I ask if he requires any special seating considerations because of his eyes?
MOTHER
Oh, he sees perfectly fine, Miss Hayes. I know that his glasses seem thick, but actually, he can see very well.
(smiling)
Thank you for asking.
CUT TO: INT. BILLY’S CLASSROOM. DAY.
MISS HAYES and MOTHER are talking just outside the door. BILLY is walking down an aisle trying to find a seat. The children turn and look after him as he passes. Some are smirking at his glasses. BILLY comes to an empty seat toward the back of the room. There is a BOY in the desk behind.
BOY
Jeepers, creepers! Get a load of those peepers.
Many in the class snicker. BILLY tries to pull the desk chair back so he can sit, but the BOY slides down in his seat and kicks the chair back in.
BOY
(continued)
You’re not sitting by me, four-eyes!
BILLY is startled by the boy’s comment. The bell rings and MISS HAYES enters the room. BILLY looks at her.
MISS HAYES
That desk will be fine, Billy. Wait… stay standing for a few seconds, please, Billy. Class—this is Billy Isensee.
MISS HAYES
(continued)
Billy and his parents just moved here from another state, so let’s give Billy a big Wilson Elementary welcome.
The class responds to the opportunity to legally make noise—that is, all except the BOY. BILLY, somewhat embarrassed, sits down. The BOY leans forward and whispers into BILLY’S ear.
BOY
Welcome to Wilson, four-eyes! Catch you on the playground.
BILLY takes a gulp. He looks around the room and sees various faces turned toward him—all apparently hostile, except for the GIRL IN PINK who smiles at him. BILLY is sure that he knows what they’re thinking. He’s very uncomfortable.
DISSOLVE TO: INT. CLASSROOM. DAY.
MISS HAYES is writing on the chalkboard, and the class is fidgeting. The bell rings and the children rush from their seats, except for BILLY, who remains seated, and the BOY, who walks slowly down the aisle, glaring over his shoulder at BILLY. The BOY mouths the words “four-eyes” as he turns forward and leaves.
MISS HAYES sees BILLY in his seat.
MISS HAYES
That was the recess bell, Billy? Don’t you want to go outside and play?
BILLY shakes his head. Miss Hayes walks back and puts a hand on his shoulder.
MISS HAYES
(continued)
Don’t be afraid, Billy. Now you go out there, and you’ll be surprised at all the new friends you’ll make…
(nudging him)
Go on. You’ll have fun.
Reluctantly, BILLY rises and drags his feet out the door.
CUT TO: INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY. DAY.
BILLY is coming out of the classroom door. He looks carefully up and down the hall. No one is there.
MISS HAYES (V.O.)
The playground is down the hall, to your right.
BILLY is in no hurry to leave the safety of the dim halls for the harsh brilliance of the playground, but the hall is only so long! He peeks out the window and sees the normal playground activity, so he gingerly opens the door, walks outside, and takes a few tentative steps onto the playground. The GIRL IN PINK is standing by the swings. She smiles and waves at him. BILLY smiles back. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
He takes another step in her direction when he is struck in the back with a kickball. The force of the blow knocks BILLY down. As he turns face-up, the BOY and a SMALL GROUP OF OTHERS gather around, towering above him.
The BOY starts taunting BILLY.
BOY
Four-eyes! Four eyes! Little Billy Four Eyes!
OTHERS
(joining in a full chorus)
LITTLE BILLY FOUR EYES! LITTLE BILLY FOUR EYES!
BILLY is frightened by all the jeering children—white, black, Hispanic, Asian—all teasing, all taunting. A tear trickles down from behind the thick lenses of BILLY’S glasses.
CUT TO: EXT. A PEACEFUL RESIDENTIAL STREET CORNER. DAY.
A school bus pulls up to the corner, and, as soon as the door opens, BILLY rushes off. A couple of kids lean out the window and call, “Bye-bye, four-eyes!”
CUT TO: INT. KITCHEN. DAY.
Billy’s MOTHER
is seen from the rear, chopping something at the kitchen counter. Her back is to us, as she is facing the rear screen door. BILLY comes rushing through the door, letting it slam behind him.
MOTHER
Billy! What’s wrong?
BILLY
(sobbing)
You said it was all right! You said that the glasses would be okay—that they wouldn’t notice! You lied, you lied, YOU LIED!
MOTHER turns around to console her son. She crouches and hugs him.
MOTHER
I’m sorry, dear. Tell me what happened.
BILLY pulls back slightly.
BILLY
They called me four-eyes! You lied to me… You said the glasses would help… You said they wouldn’t notice! You lied! They called me four-eyes!
MOTHER
But honey, I thought the glasses would help. I wear glasses when I go out, and I’ve never had a problem. Here, let me wipe the tears from your eyes.
MOTHER takes Billy’s handkerchief and starts to wipe the tears from his cheek.
MOTHER
(continued)
There, there, honey! Everything will be all right!
MOTHER removes Billy’s glasses and begins to dab the tears from his eyes—all four of them. BILLY hugs his mother tightly, his chin on her shoulder.
CUT TO: REVERSE ANGLE.
MOTHER caresses BILLY, her four eyes reddening with emotion.
MOTHER
(continued)
(in soothing tones)