Chapter 10: Summer in California - Part 1

"You're going where?" Tandra asked me in a state of semi-shock.

I'd shared our uncle's news that we were headed for San Francisco, and the studios of one of the biggest movie producers in the country. From what I'd been told, my uncle was extremely curious about a new special effects technique that had been introduced into the experimental realms of Special Effects. But was it mere co-incidence that the idea they were considering was virtually identical to the physics project that Blair, Greg, Bill, and my self had spent most of our school year working on?

"San Francisco," I repeated to my sister. "Uncle Barry's got someone flying us up first thing in the morning. I'm getting excited at the prospects of actually meeting people that make all those movies we've been watching."

"So how come you get to hob-knob with the big names, and I don't?"

"Hey, it's a tough job, but someone has to do it," I softly teased her before trying to kiss her cheek. She pulled back to prevent me from doing so, obviously irked at my good fortune that might have been at her expense.

"Tandra! Come on, don't be like that. If I could take you along, you know I would. But I can't, and I really am sorry. But we've got all summer, and somewhere along the line, I'll try to make it up to you. Promise."

That seemed to satisfy her somewhat, and she leaned forward to accept my kiss, then planted one on my lips as well.

"I'm sorry, Keith. That wasn't very loving of me, was it?" she apologized.

"Not really, but it''s the first time you've shut me out like that ... and it hurts, Sis. Probably won't be the last time in our lives, but I sure hope you don't start using a trick like that to get your own way."

"I'll try not to. If I did, would you stop loving me?"

"Probably not, but you wouldn't be doing our relationship any good. If I hurt you intentionally, you'd be a little angry too, wouldn't you? And how long do you think you'd put up with that kind of shit? I'm guessing, not long."

"I'm sorry, Keith. I can't say that enough. What can I do to make it up to you?" she addressed me with a real fear in her eyes. There was only one thing that would put her back in my good graces at that moment, though.

"Tandra, just go back to being the bratty little twerp that I fell in love with last September. Okay? That's the person you are, and that's the girl I love. Anything less than that is almost a lie, and we both know it."

My voice was probably a lot more firm than I'd intended, but it also dragged some of the painful anger out of me, to be replaced with an offer to hold my sister in my loving arms if she wanted. From the speed with which she folded into them, I think I'd actually managed to convey to her that she was still the most special woman in the world to me.

"Will you think of me while you're gone, do you think?"

"Tandra, I'm only going to be gone for the day, not the rest of whatever! Besides, there aren't too many times when I don't think of you, and none that I can recall since last September. I do love you, you know."

"I'm still going to miss you," she murmured from the hollow of my neck where she had her mouth buried. "Would you do me a favour and wake me when you get up? I'll put the coffee on, then we can share a little time together, at least. It was bad enough getting up to an apartment full of empty back home. Now I have to contend with a whole State's worth."

We were in bed early that night — and finally got to sleep some time around midnight. I'm not sure if it was my excitement at the prospect of the following day's trip or the fact that my sister was all over my body in a state of heightened passion and lust. All I know was that five o'clock came a lot earlier than I was ready for. And true to her word, my sister was up almost at the same second I was — and just about fell asleep in her coffee cup. But the time together was warm, loving, and extremely memorable for me.

I met Uncle Barry downstairs in the driveway just before six. In my opinion, his cheerfulness at that time of morning was absolutely disgusting, although his constant chattering on the way to the airport did help me stay awake. I had a really hard time handling that much enthusiasm so early in the day.

"What's the matter, Keith? Didn't get much sleep last night?" Uncle Barry finally realized how tired I felt.

"Umm, no, I guess not. Your niece had her own agenda, and snoozing wasn't a part of it. Think maybe I can get some sleep on the flight up to San Francisco?"

Uncle Barry started to laugh, which was grating enough, but then seemed to drift in the lane of the highway as his mirth rolled over everything.

"Rose and I heard you two, and I sort of knew you'd be a little sleepy this morning," he let me know.

"You mean we kept you awake? I'm sorry, Uncle Barry. It won't happen again," I tried to apologize, and he only laughed harder, although he did stay in one lane now.

"We were already awake, Keith, so don't bother apologizing. Rose heard your sister's screams, which got her all worked up, which had her waking me up, which led to ... well, I think you have a good idea what it led to. And as for it not happening again? I seriously doubt that you two could stop what you're doing for all the tea in China and half the rice! To be quite frank, we loved the sounds of you two so lost in your passions. It reminded us of what it was like when we were ... well, a little younger than you two, but not by much. I may owe you a thank-you, my boy, because Rose hasn't been that amorous for ... since we came home at Christmas, I guess. I don't know what it is about you two that gets her so worked up, but I love it. In fact, I'm looking forward to whatever the summer brings to our love life."

There was a message in there somewhere, but I was too tired to look for it. My mind seemed to shut itself down as we made our way to the airstrip, only coming back to life just long enough for me to make that walk from the car to the waiting executive jet. I think I was asleep before the door was closed.

I woke up some time later to the sensations of being shaken, and my uncle's voice in the background.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Time to go to work," I heard, or I thought I heard. It all sounded muffled and far away as I fought desperately to shake off the sleep that had claimed me earlier.

"Huh?" I grunted. "Where are we?

"San Francisco. Come on. The limo's waiting, and we haven't got all day." Uncle Barry's tone sounds short and irritated, and I wondered just how much trouble I was in. But he began to chuckle once we were in the stretch limousine that would take us to Marin, and the reason for our trip. I imagine the scenery was spectacular, but I slept through most of it.

Once we arrived, and my uncle had managed to wake me yet again, I was somewhat stunned at our surroundings. In my mind, I guess I was expecting something similar to the many sound stages that made up the studios we'd been at the previous day. What I saw looked more like a ranch scene from some Western movie. Uncle Barry steered me inside one of them, and I found myself face to face with one of the great American film icons, George Lucas. To say that I was in awe wouldn't quite cover it. Actually, it wouldn't cover any of it.

"George, I'd like you to meet my nephew, Keith Hayes," I heard my uncle's voice, and thought I detected an element of pride in his tone. A real sharp contrast to the voice he'd roused me with at the airport, I thought.

Mr. Lucas shook my hand, and treated me as though we'd known each other all my life! With each passing moment, I found myself remembering the lesson Carson Sommers had tried to pass on. "Treat others the same way you would like to be treated yourself". That was exactly the way I was being treated here, and that feeling of humility that Carson had described swept over me. It also made me feel like I had some worth, even here in the company of greatness. And true to my word, I immediately remembered my sister. God, at that moment, I'd have given my soul to have her there with us!

"So what's this new idea you have, George?" my uncle's voice broke into my thoughts. The two men spent a considerable amount of time discussing what Mr. Lucas had in mind, and some of it sounded vaguely familiar.

"So, if we could figure out how to bend that light in the first place, we could make a solid object virtually disappear without having to resort to CGI effects," I heard, and my mind immediately snapped back to the physics project that we'd worked on so hard all year. It had been Blair Morrison that had actually made the experiment work, but he was insistent that we all share the glory and rewards equally. Twinkie was that kind of a guy.

"Umm, excuse me, Uncle Barry, but would it be possible to see what's been done on this idea so far?" I blurted out, almost afraid of being discounted as a dumb kid that didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. But instead, Mr. Lucas smiled and invited me into the workshop that housed his equipment.

I spent several long minutes walking around the set-up, immediately seeing the differences between what had been built here in Marin and what we had back in Hendrickson. Ours was a simpler mechanism, to be sure, but that simplicity was a part of why Blair had managed to get the results we'd achieved so far.

"Do you understand any of this, Keith?" I heard Mr. Lucas ask with genuine interest in my opinion.

"Umm, yes, sir. I do. What you seem to be trying to do is use an electro-magnetic field to bend the light beam. Correct?"

My question was met by two pairs of raised eyebrows and a look of respect that I had never anticipated seeing in my whole life.

"To be frank, Mr, Lucas," I went on, "you've got too much power in these coils, and they're not tuned to the specific frequencies you want to bend."

Suddenly, I felt like I'd just slapped the President of the United States on the fingers for using the wrong fork! My reactions cause me to take a step backwards, almost upsetting a cart of equipment that I hadn't made note was there.

"Keith, how do you know so much about something like this?" my uncle almost demanded of me.

"Umm, could we talk outside, privately, for a moment, Uncle Barry? I have my reasons, but I have an idea that I might know of the solution to Mr. Lucas' problem."

"George, would you excuse us for a moment. please?" my uncle almost seemed to apologize. His request was met with a warm and what looked like a genuine grin. We stepped outside the building and into a more private spot.

"Keith, if you're trying to impress George, you'd better have something pretty substantial in mind. George Lucas cares about results, not textbook theory."

"Uncle Barry, what if I told you that I've seen something very similar to what's inside this building, that it works the way Mr. Lucas is trying to get his to do, and is a lot simpler than his set-up? And what if I told you that the guys working on that particular project are trying to get the bent light back in its original alignment once it's passed the object it's supposed to go around?"

My uncle stood there with what appeared to be a blank stare, but I knew he was busy thinking the concept through.

"If we could do that, the object would be virtually invisible, right?" he advanced.

"It would be, but everything around it would remain visible. We only see light after it's reflected off an object. But if it never gets to that object in the first place... " I left the sentence open and unfinished. "By the same token, any object that had already reflected that same light would appear as though the light had never been disturbed. That's the theory, but also the reason for returning the light to its original trajectory and path."

The rest of the afternoon was spent touring the facilities and workshops of the special effects studio, and I was introduced to some of the aspects commonly used to produce CGI graphics. I probably learned as much in that one afternoon as I could have done on my own in a month. But the whole time, I felt my uncle's eyes on me, and they radiated an aura of suspicion on his part. To say that I was uncomfortable around the man by the time we got back to the airplane would be a bit of an understatement. We flew back in complete silence, which extended itself on the ride back to our uncle's house.

"How was it?" Tandra asked as soon as I walked in the apartment. She turned to see my look of concern and worry, and immediately rushed over to wrap her arms around me in an attempt to shoulder some of the discomfort I felt.

"I think I fucked up, Sis. What we went up to see was something very close to what Blair, Greg, Bill, and I have been working on all year. But Blair's works, and the one we saw today doesn't. I don't think it ever will, either. When I pointed out a couple of the bigger deficiencies, Uncle Barry looked like he was pissed at me. Shit, we've been here two days, and our summer might be over. I'm expecting him to come through that door any minute now and tell us to get the hell out of here!"

"Keith, I think you're blowing this all out of proportion," she tried to calm me down. "You're still over-tired from the trip, and the stress of a whole new lifestyle. Cut yourself some slack, would you?"

"Tandra, you don't tell someone like George Lucas that he's shooting blanks out his ass without getting fried yourself! And I don't think I did Uncle Barry's reputation any favours, either."

Before I could go on, or Tandra could resume trying to calm her brother down, there was a knock on the door that could only be one of two people — and I really didn't want to talk to either one of them just then. But it was their house, and being rude wouldn't alleviate the situation any. Tandra answered the door, then let our uncle in.

"Keith, have you really seen something like we saw earlier today? And you say it worked?" our uncle almost pleaded, and his change of attitude caught me off-guard completely.

"Uncle Barry, I've not only seen it, I helped build it. But it's not complete yet." I took a deep breath to prepare myself for what I needed to say next, if we were to retrieve anything from the short reunion with our aunt and uncle.

"I owe you an apology for my behaviour this afternoon, Uncle Barry. I hope I didn't ruin things between you and Mr. Lucas."

"Apologize? For what? Trying to help someone with their project? And don't worry about George and me. We've been friends for too long to let something like this worry you. But you've got me beyond curious. Can you tell me more about this device you've built?"

"Umm, this may be pushing my luck, but there are more people than just me involved. I need your solemn promise that whatever is said in this room tonight will never go any further. Can you do that, Uncle Barry?"

"Yes, yes, no problem, Keith. I can understand you wanting to protect what you have. Would you and your friends be interested in selling the idea? I know you'd have to talk to them before you answer that, but if you have something like what you're describing, it could be worth a lot of money."

My business administration principles silently seemed to kick in, along with another one of Carson's principles, about remembering who your friends are, and always being loyal to them.

"I can't guarantee they'll want to sell their research, but they might be persuaded to license it. We'd have to have the concept patented, or copywritten, or something first. But if what we have, and what we're still working on, is something that someone like Mr. Lucas is interested in, I think something could be worked out that would keep everyone relatively happy," I put forth as an initial offering. My uncle began to smile before chuckling openly.

"Keith, you are definitely your father's son! Only my little brother would think fast enough to start negotiations before anyone else even knew what the commodities were! But yeah, I think we could work something out. Oh, by the way, is there any chance I could see this device of yours?"

"Probably, if you don't mind going all the way back to Hendrickson. But I need to talk to the other three guys before I can say anything more. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, I understand completely, Keith. Maybe more than you know. I'll leave it to you to set everything up, but please keep me informed and up-to-date?"

"Sure, Uncle Barry. But can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure, fire away."

"Well, after we left Mr. Lucas' place, I thought you were angry with me. Were you? And why?"

"No, Keith, I wasn't angry," he chuckled, relieving a lot of the pressure that I felt like I'd been under. "I wondered if you'd inherited your Dad's negotiating stance. Your father can be pretty hard-headed and obstinate if he thinks he's in a corner. I was afraid you might be the same way, and that would have made negotiating a lot more difficult. If you really have what you say you've got, I'm more than willing to do whatever I can to make your work pay for you. It would be nice if I got a little something for my trouble, of course, but I'll leave that up to the four of you to decide. But, in the meantime, are you ready to tackle the computer labs tomorrow? It's about time I got you into the mainstream of CGI production, isn't it?"

Once our uncle left, I could feel a heavy sigh trying to escape me, and the weight of the whole world lifting off my shoulders.

"See, I told you things would work out," Tandra tried to reassure me. "Uncle Barry's a lot like Dad. He's fair, but still a little prejudiced towards his kids, or in this case, his niece and nephew. I think you and Uncle Barry are going to get along just fine ... as long as you remember not to be an asshole," she teased. And at that moment, I needed that part of her.

Uncle Barry had me working on an animation sequence for the next three days under the tutelage of one of his senior technicians, Jose, whose last name I could never pronounce, nor spell. But while his name may have been difficult for me, working with him was an absolute joy. I probably learned more in that three days than in the previous year. And as a bonus, almost all of what I did ended up in the final scene's cut. That would earn me a place in that long list of credits at the end of the movie — and a residual royalty! I was floating on air when my uncle informed me about that.

That Sunday was the Independence Day holiday, and to celebrate, all four of us headed for the local festivities, staying long enough to meet several of our aunt and uncle's friends, fill our stomachs to overflowing, and being awed by the fireworks display that night. The following day, Uncle Barry kept the studio closed, then spoiled Tandra and me with a full day at the beach. Never having seen the Pacific Ocean before, we were both enthralled. Even the idea of trying to surf was advanced, although we both passed on the offer in favour of just relaxing and enjoying the sunshine.

It was the following Thursday afternoon when my uncle dropped a pen-and-ink drawing on my desk and asked me to give him a rendering. Looking at the black and white picture, all I could see was just the outline of a dragon, and nothing more. I must have stared at that image for a good hour, waiting for some kind of inspiration to pop into my head.

"Keith, you've been looking at that thing for over an hour," my uncle finally burst into my forced daydream. "That thing's not going to render itself. Is there a problem?"

"No, Sir ... well ... maybe. I'm trying to figure out in my head what a creature like that should look like in real life, and it's not coming to me," I made up an excuse.

"No one here is going to hold your hand, Keith. Either you can do this, or you can't. But just sitting there isn't going to get you where you need to go. Give me something that I can work with, at least," he commanded me, and I felt like I should be looking for another one of those dust motes to hide under.

As Uncle Barry walked away with a look of real disappointment on his face, I took one more look at the drawing, then asked myself what Cassie would have done with it. That's when the collage she'd given my sister for a birthday present came to mind. Suddenly, I knew exactly what my ex-girlfriend would have done, and as the imagined colours began to fall into place, the solution was as clear as the nose on my face! Over the next fifteen minutes, I rendered that picture on the computer in colours ranging from dark blues through various shades of green and gold, adding a few red highlights to accentuate certain features. Once printed, I took the finished rendering to my uncle, more to prove that I could do the job than for his approval. But as I turned to head back out of his office, he called my name, then had me wait until he'd thoroughly studied my attempt.

"You did this, Keith?" his scepticism almost raising the hair on the back of my neck at it implications.

"Yes, Sir."

"How come it took you so long to see what you wanted?"

"I guess I was just looking at it from the wrong angle. But once I looked at it the right way, that's what came into my mind."

"Can I keep this?" he almost seemed to be asking my permission. Considering that it was his drawing, and his studio, I felt a little weird at him even questioning ownership, and told him so.

"Keith, any time you do something like this, sign it. Your signature is your claim of authorship, and it's the only way you'll be able to maintain the rights to use a given series of drawings."

I was presented with the rendering again, along with a special marker pen, and my uncle waited until I signed the drawing.

"There, now this is your rendering. No one else can use it unless you give them written permission. Not even me. That's the way this studio works."

He went back to studying what I'd rendered intently, leaving me waiting for a final judgement.

"How much are you going to charge me for this?" he finally broke the silence.

"Umm, I hadn't thought about it, Uncle Barry. How much should I charge?"

My uncle spent the next fifteen minutes explaining usage fees, and we agreed on a dime per usage. That might not sound like a lot, but if you consider that in animation, it would take sixty frames every second, and the average usable length of film ran somewhere in excess of fifteen seconds, it added up to something like three hundred and sixty bucks a minute! Not bad for an hour and a quarter's worth of work, I thought.

"Keith, if it had been your pen-and-ink, the going rate is two-bits. If I give you some ideas, would you be willing to try your hand at drawing?" At nine hundred dollars a minute, I'd have sold my soul! My over-enthusiastic answer sent my uncle into gales of laughter.

"You're going to do just fine in this industry, Keith," he finally managed to get across to me between laughing fits. "Here's a couple of character descriptions for you to work on," and he handed me several sheets of paper.

I spent the rest of that day and most of the following one trying to create something that would accurately fit in with the descriptions I'd been given. At first, it seemed an impossible task, but with some guidance from Jose, I managed to turn out what I thought was a fairly creditable drawing.

"Is this what you had in mind, Uncle Barry?" I wanted to know when I presented the preliminary outline. He studied it for several minutes before answering my enquiry.

"No, but I think you're close," he finally gave me his opinion. "It needs more emphasis here," as he pointed out several different features, "here, here, and here. Do you have this saved on your flash drive?"

"Umm, no, sir. Not yet."

"Go! Save everything you do," as my uncle handed me a small flash drive, "and guard that with your life. That's your personal portfolio, and the only thing that will let you pay the bills."

I rushed back to the computer, and a crowd of six or seven other technicians gazing at what I'd produced.

"Keith, never, ever leave a screen on when you're not using it. Save whatever you have, and take that drive with you, even if you're just going to the bathroom," Jose gave me a crash-course education. "These guys won't steal your work, because we all have to live together. But in another studio, they won't give you that kind of leniency. Leave a screen up like this, and someone will steal your idea, change it enough to make it look like theirs, and give you fuck-all in return."

I felt embarrassed for my naivety, but the rest of the crew just smiled and made me feel like I was becoming a part of a close, tight-knit family. With their understanding, what could have been a disaster turned into a feeling of satisfying achievement.

"Can I make a couple of suggestions?" one of the other animators asked. I smiled my agreement for whatever she was about to offer.

"Make the eyes bigger, and give them more pronounced eyebrows. That'll add a look of intelligent animation to your figure." She sat me down and looked over my shoulder as I edited the elements involved. Just that one change seemed to make the character jump off the screen!

"Good! Now, make the legs a little shorter. That emphasizes the rest of your character."

Once again, I did as was suggested, and my figure seemed to become even more real. Remembering what my uncle and Jose had drilled into me, I immediately saved the new drawing with a different but similar file name.

"Good move," I was congratulated. "Now, to really emphasize the body, give it a fatter stomach. That'll create a sense of bulk and mass. Call me when you're done?"

I spent another hour adjusting those three elements, finally ending up with something that I was proud to call my own. With a feeling of real enthusiasm and pride, I printed off the final result, and started to head for my uncle's office. At the last minute, I remembered what Jose had drilled into my head, saved the image, then closed the file on the computer. And once I had the printed copy in my hands, I even signed it, just like I'd been told to do.

"Uncle Barry?" I called to get his attention as I walked into his office. "Is this more like what you had in mind?" and passed him the drawing. He took it and began studying the line drawing in detail.

"You do all of this?" Uncle Barry finally asked.

"Umm, no. I had some help with the eyes, legs and stomach modifications."

"Who helped you?"

"I didn't catch her name, but I can find out," I volunteered.

"Dirty blonde? About five-six? Looks like she could stand to lose a few pounds? Soft, gentle voice?"

"Umm, yes, sir. That sounds like the woman."

"Sam," he uttered his declaration of identity. "Samantha Barnes. She's probably one of the best animators in town. If she helps you at all, that means she likes you ... and that doesn't happen too often. Try not to piss her off, or she'll cut your balls off and feed them to you for lunch. Sam's probably responsible for more successful CGI careers than all the other animators combined. But if she doesn't like someone, they're fucked from square one."

"Yes, sir. I'll try and keep on her good side," I promised.

"When you get this finished, have her sign it, too, then make sure she gets cut in for at least a nickel of the royalty fee. Oh, and while we're at it, would you lose the 'Sir' thing? Might want to lose the 'Uncle' title too. We're all equals in this place. Either you fly on your own merits, or you don't. Calling me 'Uncle' almost makes it seem like you're riding on my coattails. Neither one of us need that shit. Okay? Can you do that for me, Keith?"

"Um, yes... " I was so used to calling him by his title that I just about slipped, "umm, okay, Barry. I'll try to remember that. Do you want me to just call you by your name at home, too?"

"Might be an idea. Otherwise, it gets too confusing."

"What about Aunt Rose? Would she prefer it if we didn't call her 'Aunt'?" My uncle broke out in another one of those laughing fits, and I got the impression that there was a private joke in there, somewhere.

"If Rose had her way about it," he managed to regain some control, "she'd have you calling her 'Mommy'! In the time you and Tandra have been out here, she's really regretting the fact that we never had kids. But check with her about still calling her 'Aunt'. I think she'll probably be more comfortable if you don't."

"Thanks ... Barry. But if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go see if I can find Sam, and get her to sign my final drawing once I get it rendered."

"Good idea," Barry agreed with me, "and you might want to double-check your line junctions. If one of them's open, your colours will bleed through the whole drawing. Maybe Sam will help you with that, if you ask her nicely."

The rest of the afternoon was spent finishing off my project, with Samantha looking in every once in a while. She did give me lots of pointers about colours, tones, shading, and other tricks that I'd never thought about before. It also gave me a better understanding of what Cassie had spent two years learning, and a new respect for her talents. And when it was finished, I asked Sam to sign my final with me, so that she'd be entitled to some of the royalty for what we had produced, as a team. She tried to refuse, but I became almost insistent, and she finally signed the damned thing. When Barry saw her signature, he smiled at me, but asked how big of a hammer did I have to use to get that signature.