Indelible

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Indelible Page 21

by Mark Carver


  He knew where he had $15,000.

  It was sitting in the garage on two wheels.

  He sighed and hung his head.

  CHAPTER 18

  It rained for the next four days straight. This gave Cameron an excuse to stay in the workshop from morning till night without going over to see Mindy. The second night after she got back, she sent him a text message.

  How ya been? Want to have dinner sometime?

  Cameron was relieved that she had made the first move, and that let him take control of the situation.

  Love to, but can’t. Working on something really big, very busy. We’ll hang out soon.

  Mindy’s reply was short and simple.

  Okay. Take care.

  Cameron didn’t know how he felt after that little exchange. He didn’t want to push her away but he didn’t want her complicating his life either. He wanted to see her on his own terms.

  Yeah, that’s not selfish at all.

  Cameron smirked as he threw the phone on the bed.

  He spent at least fourteen hours a day in the shop, cutting, grinding, welding, and polishing. He was glad that he didn’t have to recreate the Doomsong exactly, because he didn’t think he could make it look as good as that first effort. All the while, his nerves were tingling with excitement. He was going to be in a music video with Hammer Star. The Hammer Star. This was going to be the catapult that launched him to new heights. He could feel it.

  When the rain abated for a few hours, Cameron took his motorcycle to the dealer where he’d purchased it. It was killing him but it was the only way.

  One hour later, he walked out with a check for $12,000. The sales rep seemed to sense his urgency and he knew Cameron wasn’t in a position for a long drawn-out bargaining session. It was all Cameron could do to wring twelve grand out of him. He was afraid he was going to have to settle for ten.

  He had enough savings to cover the remaining $3,000 but it didn’t leave him with much left. He knew he had some royalty checks coming his way and plenty of customers were lined up outside his proverbial door, but the Doomsong was his sole focus right now. He wasn’t worried, though. He had the key to a very profitable door. All he had to do was make sure everyone else knew it too.

  The next day he got a call from Robyn, telling him to be at Cutthroat Studios downtown first thing in the morning. At the crack of dawn, Cameron bundled his swords into his car and languished in LA traffic for a couple hours and got lost three times before finally finding the studio. It wasn’t a sprawling movie studio complex, which is why it was so hard to find. It looked like three small airplane hangars tucked amongst a cluster of Mexican grocery stores and wig shops.

  The people inside were very laid-back and patient, quite different from the crowd at the photo studio for the Inkling shoot. Filming took about four hours, and Cameron had to shake his head in disbelief. Four hours of filming, and only about one minute of footage would actually be used.

  He had secretly hoped that the guys from Hammer Star would be there, though he knew better than to get his hopes up. But he did run into an unlikely person as he was bundling his swords back into his car.

  “Toby!”

  His friend looked up, squinting even though the sky was still overcast. He walked over to Cameron with a slow shuffling walk that seemed reluctant, even sad.

  “Hey Cameron. What brings you here?”

  Cameron frowned. He had never seen Toby look this low, but he didn’t want to mention it. Maybe he just had the flu or something.

  “I’m going to be in a music video,” he answered. “They’re going to use this new sword I made in the video and it’s going to premiere at MasterCon next month.”

  Toby nodded, looking at something in the distance.

  After a few seconds of awkward silence, Cameron dove in. “Hey man, you okay? You look kind of down.”

  Toby looked at him as if he’d just noticed him standing there. “No, I’m all right. Just a lot of stuff…”

  He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Actually things could be better. Alicia found out about my thing with Robyn and threw me out. It’s kind of funny though, since Robyn was screwing pretty much everyone that I knew as well.”

  Cameron held his gaze, not daring to move. But Toby’s expression seemed to indicate that he didn’t include Cameron in that list.

  “She’s a predator, man. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she and Alicia were going at it. Anyway, I think I’m going to take a break from everything for a while. I’m due for some vacation time. I’m heading to Argentina next week.”

  Cameron looked at him skeptically. “Argentina? Well, you’re coming back, right?”

  Toby shrugged. “Eventually. I’ve got a buddy there with a pretty sweet setup. I think I just need to clear my head. This place gets to you after a while.”

  “Yeah, I know. Well, don’t be gone too long. I’ve got some big things in the works and I’ll want someone to celebrate with.”

  Toby’s face brightened, but only a little bit. “I’ve been hearing about you a lot. Some of the studio suits were even throwing around your name. Looks like that thing is your good luck charm.”

  He gestured towards Cameron’s face.

  Cameron smirked. “Luck had nothing to with it. You know as much as anyone that it takes hard work and good ideas.”

  Toby shrugged again. “Well, I’ve learned that luck doesn’t hurt either.” He glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got to split. Good luck with everything, man. I’ll let you know when I’m back in town.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he walked away and disappeared around a corner.

  He could almost feel the General breathing on the back of his neck. See what women can do to a man?

  Cameron shook his head and slammed the car door. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He wouldn’t let anyone get that deep under his skin.

  ****

  It was raining again when he pulled up to his house. A glance at the dashboard clock showed that it was approaching 9:00 pm. He hadn’t gone shopping for several days and he hoped there was at least one more microwave dinner left in the freezer.

  All thoughts of food vanished as he saw Mindy running out of her house. She was dressed in a very attractive blouse and matching slacks. She shielded herself from the rain with her jacket as she rushed down the driveway and jumped into a waiting car. Cameron couldn’t see very clearly through the rain-streaked windshield but there was no mistaking the profile of an admittedly handsome man in the driver’s seat. Before he could get a better look, the car drove away. He thought he saw Mindy throw him a quick glance, but he couldn’t be sure.

  He licked his teeth, then guided the car up the driveway and into the garage. He headed into the kitchen and opened the freezer, staring through the misty vapor and spotting a lonely hamburger with macaroni and cheese dinner box. But he didn’t take it out. He just stared for several moments, then he slammed the door angrily.

  Come on, man, get a grip!

  He closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the refrigerator door. He was furious with himself, but he didn’t know how to turn these feelings off.

  If she means that much to you, go tell her. Otherwise, let her live her life and you live yours. It’s pretty simple.

  Cameron remained still, breathing through his nose.

  Looks like she’s already made her choice.

  ****

  Even though the rain cleared up the next day, Cameron didn’t go out of the house. He spent several hours on the internet tweeting about the convention, building hype for the unveiling of the Doomsong, and hinting at the Hammer Star music video collaboration. Even though the house was dangerously low on food, he didn’t feel like making a quick trip to the supermarket.

  He was pleased to find that he was generating quite a bit of buzz about his upcoming mystery project. Many fans had pledged to seek him out at MasterCon, and his catalog of weapons was selling better than it had in years. His inbox was flo
oded by requests from manufacturers for new designs, but he didn’t answer any of these. He knew that once the Doomsong made its debut, there would be only one thing on everyone’s mind.

  As the day of the convention approached, Cameron was almost giddy with excitement. He lamented the loss of his motorbike but he knew it was worth it. It gave him comfort to think about his sword bundled safely in his closet like a hostage. His ticket to the top...

  Mindy was on his mind less and less as he ran around like a madman, trying to check everything off of his to-do list. Get posters made, visit hobby shops, choose which weapons he wanted to sell. Of course, he still had plenty of time at home alone with his thoughts. He considered giving her a call once or twice, but he would always remember Toby and the sad look on his face, and he would put the phone down. He didn’t want any part of that.

  Every once in a while he would see her jog past, her ponytail bouncing like a happy child. She always jogged alone, and Cameron would peek out the window every now and then when he’d hear a car drive by. But they never stopped at her house.

  He almost wished she would start seeing someone, then it would take the pressure off of him. He didn’t know why he felt guilty for avoiding her. They were just neighbors, for crying out loud. She was free to do what she wanted, to seek her own happiness. What was she waiting for? Why did she just keep jogging past his house, like a fish hoping to get hooked? Why couldn’t she leave him alone?

  The day of the convention finally arrived, and Cameron felt like a huge boulder had rolled off his shoulders. The wait had almost driven him insane. He hadn’t been in touch with his poker buddies for weeks, and Chucky had gone to Oregon to stay with his family after his grandmother died. Luckily, he returned the day before the convention, excitedly texting Cameron and asking what’s been happening lately. Cameron sent back a simply reply.

  MasterCon tomorrow. Want to go?

  He could almost hear Chucky shrieking with delight.

  AAAAAAHHH!!!! I luv you bro!

  At 5:30 the next morning, Chucky pounded on his door, creating enough noise to make the porch lights on neighboring houses switch on. Despite the early hour, Cameron was already up and ready to go. He opened the door and nearly dropped his coffee.

  “Chucky…are you serious?”

  Chucky looked down at his tight-fitting Roman gladiator costume, complete with circular shield and rubber short sword.

  “What?” he asked with a shrug. “Everyone dresses up at these conventions.”

  “Yeah,” Cameron said with a smile, “but it’s called ‘MasterCon.’ You know, fantasy and…”

  He cut off his words when he saw the blank look in Chucky’s eyes. “You know what, it’s awesome. You’re going to need that shield to fend off the ladies.”

  “You know it! Come on, let’s get going.”

  After piling the posters, catalogs, and an assortment of weapons (including a long box that Cameron offhandedly said contained “a roll-out banner”) into the car, they headed down the road as the awakening sun lightened the sky. Morning commuters stared in amazement at the humble Toyota carrying a heavy-set gladiator and a man with a fierce-looking facial tattoo.

  The morning sun bathed LA County in warm, crisp light, and traffic into downtown was a little bit lighter than usual. Cameron and Chucky were practically bubbling with excitement, and Chucky gasped like a little girl as they approached the convention center.

  “Dude…” he whispered reverently as they navigated through the parking lot filled with orcs, mages, knights, elves, and witches. “This is geek heaven.”

  “I thought you went to these things all the time,” Cameron said.

  “Yeah, but this is MasterCon. This is like…like…”

  “Like Mecca?”

  Chucky made a face. “That analogy is so cliché. Give me a moment, I’ll think of something more interesting.”

  Cameron laughed. “Forget about it. Help me find a parking space.”

  After parking the car, they headed towards the entrance marked “Convention Participants Only.” Cameron gave his name and showed his driver’s license, and he was provided with two badges dangling from a black lanyard. He hung it over his head, then looked at Chucky. His friend held the lanyard like it was the Holy Grail.

  “Uh, Chucky, you put it around your neck.”

  Chucky’s eyes were wide as he stared at the small card encased in plastic. “I’m going to hang this above my bed like a crucifix.”

  “Come on, save the drama for later. Let’s get inside.”

  They pushed open the doors and gasped with amazement. Chucky was right: it truly was geek heaven.

  Elaborate costumes, movie-quality make-up, swords, spears, life-size collectible figures, miniature figurines, books, posters, celebrities…there was nothing than any self-proclaimed fanboy or fangirl wouldn’t swoon over.

  Cameron felt Chucky seize his arm. “Cameron…am I dreaming?”

  A sultry alien temptress with green skin floated by, winking one of her purple eyes at them.

  “I hope not,” Cameron drooled.

  They were rooted to the spot, soaking up the flurry of activity around them.

  “I feel like a kid in a candy store,” Chucky said breathlessly.

  Cameron had to smirk. “Now who’s using clichés?”

  “Give me a break, man. My mind is overloading.”

  It was too much to take in. Cameron had never seen anything like this, even when he used to visit conventions. As he scanned the room, he noticed several pairs of eyes turn towards him, and mouths leaned close to neighboring ears and whispered with excitement.

  A wave of panic rushed through his nerves and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Chucky glanced at him and frowned with concern.

  “Dude, you all right?”

  Cameron swallowed nervously. People were tugging at their friends’ arms and gesturing towards him. Their faces were bright and cheerful, but to Cameron, they seemed like hungry predators.

  “Come on,” he said, feeling a little dizzy, “let’s find Peter Kowalski.”

  It took them nearly half an hour to find Peter’s Doom Rift booth, and when they arrived, Peter was nowhere in sight. A young Asian man with green hair peered at them through his narrow glasses as they approached. He seemed a little bit wary of all the weaponry in Cameron’s arms.

  “Welcome to Doom Rift,” he announced, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. He blinked rapidly as he studied Cameron’s tattoo.

  Cameron cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Chucky stepped in front of him.

  “This is Cameron McConnell, master swordsmith. We’re looking for Peter Kowalski.”

  The green-haired young man looked over his shoulder at a shimmering purple curtain stretched tightly beneath a large plasma screen TV. Peter emerged from behind the fabric, his face splitting into an enormous smile.

  “Cameron! I was wondering when you were going to show up. Get in here.”

  Cameron stepped into the booth, and Chucky glared at the young man as he followed his friend.

  “Peter, this is Chucky. He’s my right hand man today.”

  Peter’s eyebrows rose as he scanned Chucky’s outfit, then he slapped his fist against his heart.

  “We who are about to die, salute you.”

  Chucky blinked twice, then brightened with comprehension. “Oh, right. Yeah, I'm not really a gladiator. I just didn’t have any time to get a decent costume put together. This guy here…” He gave Cameron a slightly irritated punch on the shoulder. “…didn’t tell me about this until yesterday.”

  Peter grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s better than half the stuff these freaks wear around here. I swear, some of the outfits I’ve seen look like they were made by their mothers for their elementary school play.”

  Cameron glanced around the booth, impressed with the tantalized display of Doom Rift merchandise.

  “So what’s the plan?” he asked.

  Peter jerked
a thumb towards the massive TV screen. “You bring the video?”

  Chucky looked surprised as Cameron handed a disc to Peter. “Video?” he asked. “What video?”

  Cameron flashed him a quizzical smile. “Patience, my good man, patience.”

  ****

  Chucky was enthralled by the Doom Rift display, but there were many other temptations scattered around the convention floor, and he scampered away like a schoolboy on the first day of summer. Cameron told him to be back at three o’clock sharp, and Chucky promised that he would.

  Using the purple curtain as a screen, Cameron opened the box that contained the Doomsong. Peter’s eyes gleamed with the light reflecting off the blade.

  “Cameron…it’s miraculous.”

  Cameron glowed. “Do you think people are going to like how we unveil it today?”

  “Are you kidding? Heavy metal and a totally awesome sword by the renowned Cameron McConnell? They’re going to go nuts.”

  “So how are we going to get people to come to the booth?”

  “They’re going to make an announcement over the PA at 2:30 and 2:50. Plus I’ve got all my little elves tweeting about it like crazy. I’m glad we got a booth in the corner, otherwise there wouldn’t be room for all the spectators.”

  Cameron stood up and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Thanks for doing this. Really. I wish I could pay you but I had to fork over a lot of cash for the video. I had to sell the bike.”

  Peter’s face fell. “What? That sucks! I saw the pictures you put online. That thing was sweet!”

  “Well, money is sweeter, and that’s what I needed to make this happen. I’ll make it up you to, I promise.”

  Peter gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Just get out there and sell some crap. Your being here is payment enough. You’re a superstar now, you know.”

  Cameron grinned. “We’ll see.”

  He stepped out from behind the curtain and almost ran into a petite young woman with braided pink hair and an anime-inspired costume. She looked like she just came from a cosplay photo shoot.

  She gasped and hugged her very realistic dragon prop. “You’re…you’re Cameron McConnell!”

  Cameron grinned. This day was going to be amazing.

  ****

  A lanky fellow with flowing black hair and a sharp goatee peered through the sea of people, then tapped his companion on the shoulder.

 

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