Cameron and the Girls

by Edward Averett

  “Nothing,” I say. “You guys did nothing wrong.”

  “Oh, Cam,” my mom says, and she starts to break loose from Dad and rush over to me, but he holds on tight. “I don’t think anybody did anything wrong.”

  She looks like she’s ready to yak about it till morning, so I throw up the stop sign that is my hand. “Mom, Dad. Please. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “But Cam.”

  “No, I mean it. I’m just who I am. What happens to me is just me.”

  “But sweetie, you have to take the meds.”

  “I’ll take the damn meds,” I say. “But all the rest is just a waste of time. I don’t want to waste my time anymore.”

  “Good boy,” Dad says.

  I look at him. I’ll bet semipro football was a lot easier than facing a son like me. “I just don’t want to be the lost kid in the family anymore. I’m tired of it. Can’t I just be Cameron? I’ll do what I have to do, but I want you guys to leave me alone.”

  “But Cam,” my mom says carefully.

  “I know,” I say. “Can I be trusted?”

  “Well?” she says.

  “Probably not,” I say.

  My mom sighs deeply and rests her head against my dad again. “I wish you could be.”

  “Mom,” I complain. “Come on. It was a joke.”

  “Is this funny?”

  I have to think for a moment. “It may not be so funny, but how ridiculous is it that I, Cameron Galloway, a generally nice guy, gets stuck with a disease like this?”

  “That’s a mouthful,” Dad says.

  “I’ll just have to be more vigilant,” Mom says. “I’ll need to check on you more and—”

  I snap and say, “I guess you’ll do what you have to do. But for now, I know what I have to do. In two weeks I’ll be fifteen. You have no idea what I’ve done or what I’ve seen. If you did, well, you’d probably freak out or something. But I have a life. Do you hear that? I have a life and that’s the way it’s got to be.” Out in the hall, I hear Beth snicker.

  I can see that both Mom and Dad are just dying to say something, but they know better. Mom finally comes over and kisses the top of my head. Dad gives me a little nod and they’re gone.

  Just before their feet hit the last stair, Beth cracks open the door. “It’s okay,” I say. “It’s all clear.”

  Beth has her head down as if she felt guilty about something. “I just have to say one thing,” she says.

  “I already know,” I say. “And I forgive you for turning me in.”

  “Not that,” she says. “I just wanted to say that when I saw the look on your face when you walked by me at the hospital, I kind of liked it.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, it was like no Cameron I’d ever seen before. You looked like you knew what you were doing.”

  “I was completely nuts, Beth.”

  “Still, though.”

  I look up at her and smile. “Bethie, be careful. This could be catching.”

  “There. That’s what I’m talking about. You’re different. That’s what I mean.”

  When she’s gone, I get under the covers with my clothes on. Now if my parents came into my room, they’d think I was losing it again. How many guys my age accidentally fall asleep with all their clothes on? Plenty. But people don’t chase those guys around with a needle filled with happy juice. The problem is, once people think a certain way about you, it’s hard to get it out of their heads. It’s hard to ever just be a regular guy. Everybody will always be waiting for something bad to happen. I wish it were different, but it’s not.

  But I think I know now what a real life is about. You can’t almost get run over by a log train and not get a glimpse into something wild and imaginative. My disease may come back once in a while, but now I know I can do things I never thought I could do before, and that makes me happy. So happy, in fact, that I ease myself out of bed, grab something from my bedside table, and go to the door of my room. Opening it, I stick out my ears to see if they can pick up any noises. It sounds like the coast is clear.

  It’s part of my plan. It may not make sense, but I have to do this. I tiptoe down to the bathroom and lock myself in. I snap on the buzzing fluorescent light and shake a pill into my hand. I stare at it, all proud and victorious. I pick it up and flush the toilet. I can imagine the pill getting scared, latching on to my finger, and calling for help. I smile. It needs to know who the boss is. I hold it out over the swirling water and make my decision. It’s one I’m going to make every day. Before the water stops gurgling, I place the pill on my tongue and swallow it. My brain needs it right now to function.

  But sometimes it helps me to make my family wonder just a little.

  Afterword

  The disease that Cameron has is a real disease called schizophreniform disorder. It is one of the subgroups of schizophrenia, a serious affliction of the mind. What sets schizophreniform disorder apart from other schizophrenic diagnoses is that the duration and intensity of the episodes can be less severe. While schizophrenia is seen as a disease with a generally chronic course, those afflicted with schizophreniform disorder can sometimes be disease-free for significant periods of time and in some cases for the rest of their lives.

  Cameron hallucinated by hearing voices, but other sufferers can have both visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as delusions. A few have even reported tactile hallucinations, like the ones Cameron experienced with The Girl. It is possible to have symptoms of this disease as early as age five. And yes, there are documented cases where individuals have carried on conversations, unafraid, with the voices in their heads.

  Of all the schizophrenic diagnoses, schizophreniform disorder has the most hopeful prognosis, especially with a case like Cameron’s where the sufferer functions well when he is not afflicted with symptoms. Normally, a patient like Cameron would be put on a medication regimen for one year, and then he might be slowly weaned from the medicine to see if he can function, symptom-free, without it. And so, one day Cameron might very well be free of the disease forever, which is his fondest hope.

  About the Author

  EDWARD AVERETT was born in the Pacific Northwest and, except for four years in the wilds of Spain, has lived in the state of Washington all his life. He is the author of Homing and The Rhyming Season, and he is the proud grandfather of three beautiful girls. Visit him at www.edwardaverett.com.