by Mark Carver
Cameron exhaled slowly through his nose.
“If you had come up with something, even a sketch or two,” Toby continued, “maybe you could have held their attention, but I told you about it weeks ago and you haven’t even made a peep. I know you’re busy with other things, but I told you before, these people don’t wait. And now they think that Shane is the Star of Bethlehem and that’s what they’re going to follow. These guys don’t care about quality or legacy or any of that stuff…they just want to make the biggest splash as soon as possible. That’s showbiz, man, and sometimes it comes back to bite you.”
There was silence for several moments.
“Cam? Cameron, you there? Come on buddy, say something.”
“It’s their movie,” Cameron answered quietly. “They can hire whoever they want.”
“Come on man, don’t be like that. And believe me, I fought for you, but these guys…when they make up their mind, that’s it. Anyway, it’ll probably flop, right? I mean, you said it yourself, the book sucks. You didn’t want the job anyway. Who knows, maybe this is a blessing. Maybe Shane will crash and burn along with the movie.”
“Maybe.”
Silence.
“Listen," Toby said, "I don’t mean to bum you out. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll poke around and see what turns up. And hey, you can scribble something on a napkin or whatever and I’ll get you compensation from the studio for your time and services. Maybe just be a couple of Ks but it’s something.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“What, you’re Honest Abe now? Come on, I feel bad. Let me make it up to you this way.”
“Sure, okay, whatever you say.”
“Thanks pal. Listen, you know I got your back, right? We’ve still got that glowing ember from that first movie, and we’re going to fan it into a roaring fire. Shane Calhoun can eat a bowl of – "
“Listen Toby, I’ve got to get to work. Thanks for calling.”
“Work? Now?”
“Yes.”
“Um, okay. You do what you gotta do. I’ll hit you up later for that sketch.”
“Sure. Good night.”
Cameron ended the call and stared through the blinds towards the dark, quiet street.
Toby was right - he had never liked the Ravenblade job, which was why he had put it off for so long. He wasn’t angry about losing the project and the money and recognition that would come with it.
He was angry that they gave the job to Shane Calhoun.
He heard a crack and looked down at the cell phone in his hand. A long white line sliced through the touchscreen. He hadn’t even realized that he was squeezing it so hard.
Conan ambled up to him and nuzzled his leg. Cameron glanced once more out into the darkness, then headed towards the kitchen. He didn’t feel like working right now.
“Come on boy, let’s go do your business.”
Conan followed obediently behind him.
CHAPTER 5
“You know,” Mindy said, her voice surprisingly steady as she ran, “I was beginning to think you were never going to come jogging.”
“Hmm.” Cameron’s eyes stared straight ahead.
“To be honest, it was getting a little boring running here by myself. I mean, people are friendly and all, but not like where I’m from. People here wave hello but they rarely say anything. I guess I’m just used to a bit more conversation.”
“Hmm.”
Mindy looked sidelong at him. “You okay? You seem distracted or something.”
Cameron kept his gaze on the road ahead. He didn’t notice Mindy’s clingy pink jogging outfit, or the way the sun gleamed on her golden hair, or how smooth her skin looked with the slight film of sweat. His eyes were glued to the hot, shimmering asphalt, and his ears heard only the pounding rhythm of his heart.
“I’m fine. Just something going on.”
Mindy smirked. “Okay, Mr. Strong Silent Type. I should warn you - I’m a chatterbox, so don’t be afraid to jump in there and stop me if I start rambling too much.”
“Hmm.”
They jogged in silence for a few minutes, then Mindy spoke up again.
“So I found a job here.”
Cameron might have nodded, or his head could have just been bobbing with his steps.
“I’m working the front desk at Jax’s Gym,” she went on. “It’s only part-time for now, but it’s not too bad…plus I get to work out there for free.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ve also joined a yoga class. A lot of people back home think yoga is all New Age, mushy hippie stuff, but people are a bit more open-minded out here.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s kind of hard to make friends, though. I don’t know if people think I’m just a ditzy Southern gal who doesn’t get California, or if they just take longer to warm up to you out here. People are polite and all, but where I come from, people have house-warming parties and mixers and barbecues. I thought California was going to be one endless pool party but it’s been a little dull, to be honest.”
Cameron imagined ramming one of his intricate custom daggers through Shane Calhoun’s temple.
“You like pie?” Mindy asked.
“What?” Cameron asked, blinking quickly.
“Pie. You have pie out here in California, right?”
“Um, sure.”
“Well, I absolutely mean to brag when I say that my pecan pie won first prize at the Nashville Farm Fair two years in a row. I don’t know how the pecans out here stack up to those back home, but I’m like Michelangelo when it comes to pie.”
Cameron imagined smashing a pie in Shane Calhoun’s face.
Mindy narrowed her eyes at him as a faint smile stole across her lips.
“If you’d like, you can come over sometime and try some. I bet you’ve never had pecan pie made with true Southern hospitality.”
“Um, no, I haven’t.”
“How about tomorrow?” she said.
“Tomorrow what?”
“Have some pie, silly.”
She gave his arm a playful smack.
“Oh, yeah. Sounds great.”
He managed a quick smile.
Mindy smiled back, though her eyes still regarded him with suspicion. “You sure you’re all right?”
Cameron coughed, even though he didn’t need to. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just…work stuff.”
“You know, you’ve never told me what you do.”
“Do what?”
“Your job. What’s your job?”
Cameron’s face flushed red, though it was pretty red already from the exercise.
“You’d probably think it’s silly.”
Mindy pursed her lips. “I doubt that. Here, let me take a guess.”
She stared at him like a detective sizing up a suspect.
“You obviously work at home,” she said, “and you obviously make a decent salary. Computer programmer? Web designer?”
Cameron shook his head. His cheeks felt hot.
“Credit card scammer? Identity thief?”
Cameron jerked his head towards her. “Of course not!”
“I’m kidding,” Mindy said with a laugh. “I give up. Come on, tell me. I won’t think it’s silly. Promise.”
Cameron looked up and saw that they were in front of his house. He breathed out and wiped his brow.
“Here,” he said as he motioned with his hand, “let me show you.”
Mindy put her hands on her hips as she caught her breath, then she followed Cameron up to the front door of his house.
Cameron unlocked the front door, feeling like his legs were on fire. He heard Mindy’s footsteps behind him and he quickly entered the house, hoping that she didn’t notice his quivering knees. She did this every day?
Mindy paused at the open door and looked down at the sad-eyed beagle staring up at her.
“It’s okay,” Cameron said, “he doesn’t bite.”
Mindy smiled weakly. “I’m sorry, I get kind of ne
rvous around dogs. I had a bad experience as a kid.”
“Well Conan’s so old, he couldn’t hurt you even if he wanted to. He’s quite the charmer, actually.”
“He learn that from his owner?”
Cameron didn’t know how to read her expression, and he disguised his confusion with a smile that looked like he was baring his teeth for the dentist.
“Come on, the shop’s out back.”
He was grateful that he had picked up a bit around the house that morning, and he hurried Mindy through the kitchen, hoping she wouldn’t notice the sink full of dishes. If she spotted all of the weapons hanging from the walls, she didn’t say anything.
“Stay on the path,” Cameron said as they stepped out into the backyard. “The rest belongs to Conan.”
Mindy tensed instinctively, glancing down at her brilliantly white running shoes. “Got it.”
She stared curiously at the small building made with aluminum siding. “You work in there?”
“Yep.” Cameron yanked the lock away and flung open the door. Mindy let out a short scream, then clamped her hands over her mouth.
“What?” Cameron asked with concern.
Mindy stared at the assortment of knives, swords, axes, and every manner of sharp metallic thing glinting in the late afternoon sun. Then she saw the tools and the workbenches, and the sketches and diagrams on the wall.
“Nothing,” she said sheepishly. She stepped into the workshop, staring around in amazement.
“Did you make all these?”
Cameron nodded, beaming with pride. Mindy walked with slow, measured steps as she studied the fearsome weapons hanging on the walls and lying on the shelves and benches.
She turned around to face him. “So this is your job? You’re a…a blacksmith?”
Cameron chuckled. “Well, sort of. I make weapons by hand, but I use a lot of modern equipment and techniques. It’s not like in the movies about the Middle Ages.”
A cloud passed over his face.
Or in the magazines…
Mindy’s mouth hung open as she gazed at the weapons, each one as beautiful as it was lethal.
“This is so cool!”
“Really?” Cameron asked, hoping he didn’t sound too much like a high school boy who just landed his first prom date.
“Yeah!” Mindy exclaimed. “You get to make swords for a living! Most people sit at a desk or behind a cash register, but you’re in here making things that could totally kill someone!”
Cameron kept his smile steady but his eyes betrayed his confusion.
“Um, yeah, I guess so.”
Mindy walked over to a shelf. “Can I touch it?”
Cameron nodded.
With wide-eyed reverence, Mindy picked up The Sword of Nine Souls, a piece he had made about five years ago. It was based on a series of fantasy novels that had since faded into obscurity, and there wasn’t really any more demand for the sword.
Mindy’s eyes flashed as she grasped the sword with both hands and brandished it in front of her. For a moment, Cameron had a vision of her as a warrior clad in a physically impossible metal bikini, standing over a heap of dismembered corpses…
“Wow, it’s light.”
Cameron snapped back to reality, feeling that irritating heat in his cheeks again. “It’s normalized steel," he replied. "Stronger and more flexible than regular steel.”
“So who do you make these for?” she asked as she admired the blade’s sharpness.
“Lots of people. Collectors, conventions, sometimes just for fun.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Sometimes I make them for the movies too.”
Mindy’s mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
Cameron nodded. He felt as if he had just scored the winning touchdown. “I don't know if you saw it, but there was a movie last summer with – "
“Whoa!” Mindy blurted, rushing towards the corner. “That is gorgeous!”
Cameron’s words crumbled in his mouth, and he looked helplessly towards the new-found object of her excitement.
Mindy gazed up at an extremely delicate dagger hanging over an assortment of axes. She placed the Sword of Nine Souls on a nearby workbench without taking her eyes off the weapon on the wall.
“What is that?” she asked breathlessly.
Cameron squinted at the dagger. It was one of his most feminine designs, which was probably why it had attracted her attention. It was in fact a dagger wielded by a heroine in a popular graphic novel and was still selling well. Cameron didn’t hate it but he didn’t love it either. It had just been a job and he didn’t put too much heart and soul into it. With the way Mindy was looking at it now though, he was wondering if perhaps he had without realizing it.
“That’s called Bel-dorien,” he said, reaching up to take it down from its perch. “It’s technically a dagger, but the character that uses it is pretty small, so it’s like a sword to her.”
He handed it to Mindy, who held it like a bouquet of flowers. Her eyes sparkled as she studied the delicate engravings on the blade. The entire weapon seemed like it came from nature, not from a machine.
“It’s beautiful,” she said quietly.
Cameron didn’t know why, but he was surprised to hear himself say, “If you like it so much, you can have it.”
Mindy gasped. “Really? I mean…no, no I couldn’t. Something like this has got to be real special to you.”
“Well, actually it was just…” Cameron stopped, wondering if dismissing the dagger would hurt her feelings, since she clearly adored it. “Yeah, it’s special, but I’ve got a lot of special things here. I want you to have this.”
“Wow…”
Cameron was starting to feel awkward. It wasn’t really that beautiful, was it? Especially compared to the rest of his repertoire. There was the Vengeance of Lucifer, and Kaldor, and the battleaxe of Throthfeliel the Vanquisher, and…
“I’m going to make you more than just pie,” Mindy said, staring at him with determination. “I’m going to make you the best meal you’ve ever had in your life. And then I’m going to make pie.”
Cameron didn’t know what to say, so he just mumbled, “Um, sure.”
Mindy beamed. “Tomorrow at seven?”
Cameron looked over her shoulder at Conan, who had been standing in the doorway the entire time. He reminded Cameron of a sage, and he could hear his voice drifting across the wind.
A great warrior never refuses pecan pie…
“That sounds great,” Cameron said with a nod.
Mindy hugged the dagger to her chest, though she was careful to avoid the sharp edges. “Awesome. Tomorrow, then.”
She walked out of the shop, cradling the dagger like it was a newborn baby. Cameron watched her leave, feeling a flurry of feelings. Conan watched her too.
She had her hand on the back door when she stopped and turned around with an embarrassed smile.
“Is it all right if I go through your house?”
Cameron laughed. “Sure.”
He knew he should have offered to walk with her, but for some reason, it seemed more perfect to watch her leave like this.
Mindy smiled, and with a bounce of her ponytail, she disappeared inside.
Cameron looked down at Conan.
“Pecan pie,” he said thoughtfully. “Hmm.”
****
Cameron didn’t think about Shane Calhoun at all the next day. He spent most of the day in the shop adding a micrometer edge to a two-and-a-half foot sword blade. He was quite pleased with how it turned out, and he was tempted to see if it could indeed split a proverbial hair, but he knew his skills weren’t that incredible.
Yet.
He felt too mentally and physically exhausted to continue working past the late afternoon, so he headed back inside with Conan faithfully at his heels. He knew it was too early to head over to Mindy’s house, but he didn’t know what to do with himself until seven o’clock rolled around. He considering going over and offering to help, but he thought he migh
t come across as too eager, like a clingy teenager who has finally found a member of the opposite sex who tolerates him. Besides, he knew he would be worthless in the kitchen.
So he plopped himself down on the sofa in the living room and aimlessly surfed the channels for a little while. He found himself craving a beer, but he decided against it. He wanted his taste buds to be fresh and alert for whatever delicacies Mindy was whipping up.
The TV program about rednecks-gone-wild disappeared from his vision and was replaced by an image of Mindy swirling and twirling through the kitchen, humming a country ditty as she baked, whipped, stirred, and fried up a down-home feast.
But why was she still wearing her jogging outfit?
Cameron frowned, then smirked in amusement. He realized he had never seen her wearing anything else. Would she wear a dress? Or maybe Daisy Dukes and a flannel shirt tied above her belly button? Or just a t-shirt and sweatpants?
His reverie was interrupted by a sharp, stabbing odor. He made a disgusted face and bolted out of the sofa.
“Conan!” he cried, looking down at the dog in annoyance. Then he felt a flash of embarrassment. He was the one who had been sitting there in the dark fantasizing about his neighbor.
Dude, this is getting pathetic.
He glanced up at the clock and gasped. 6:55.
He scolded himself as he dashed upstairs to change. Why hadn’t he done it earlier?
****
Oh crap, he thought as he rang the doorbell. He was standing on her doorstep completely empty-handed.
Mindy opened the door and he cracked a smile that he hoped was charming.
“Come in,” she said breezily, heading inside with a flutter of her pale pink sundress.
Cameron stood there for a moment, admiring her fetching figure, then hurried after her before she got too far away. A dozen savory smells slithered into his nose, and he felt like he could taste the food already.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to bring anything,” he stammered, immediately regretting bringing it up in case she hadn’t noticed.
“Oh don’t worry,” she said with a dismissive wave as she tied an apron around her waist and hovered over pots and baking dishes cooling on the counter. “I told you, this is my thanks to you.”
She glanced up at him as she suddenly remembered something. Cameron was struck by her prettiness, especially with her hair down.
“Go look in the living room,” she said with an excited smile. “That way.”
Cameron turned and poked his head around the corner to peer into the living room. It was decorated with a quaint antique touch which clearly reflected Mrs. Goldstein’s personality rather than Mindy’s. Yet in the midst of the candlesticks, oil paintings, and porcelain, one item stood out.