Chlorine Halos

Binary Double Dutch

"But, won't the ap—" 

She placed her forefinger against her lips, silencing me. "I know the aperas works wonders. But, as a mother, I reserve the right to feed my child." As her footsteps faded down the hall, Oz began tapping his thumbs on the yellow rubber duck. He pinched the toy which made a squeak.

"Do you remember this?" he asked, holding out the tangible memory. Thinking back, I smiled and nodded. "I remember when you gave it to me," he continued. "We were just little kids. You said you didn't want your Bert to ever forget his Ernie. This would keep me from forgetting you. Truth is, I don't need anything to keep me from forgetting you. Nothing can erase you from my life, but this will always be one of my favorite things." He squeaked the toy once more.

"I'll always be your Ernie."

"And I'll always be your Bert."

The crinkling sound of paper drew our attention toward the rocking chair. Riley, in green and white pajamas, accessorized with my red flannel shirt, looked down at the mess she stepped in while she wiped her feet on the thick carpet.

"You know, it's hard to look like a million bucks if you eat off the dollar menu," she said as disgust pulled her tongue out of her mouth. Before she could hit Oz with another insult, she met my face with a glistening gaze. "Avian! You're awake!" She leapt onto the bed with outstretched arms, but her excitement was cut short when Oz blocked the path with his hand.

"Take it easy," he warned. "We've got to be gentle with our disabled vet." As she knocked his hand down, she blew away the wisps of hair in her face and then brought her focus back to me.

"He's only using that term because he learned it the other day. We were driving behind a car that had 'Disabled Vet' on the license plate. Oz looked at me, completely serious, and asked, 'Do you think he got bit by a dog?'" We shared a laugh at Oz's expense, but my mind soon wandered to a question.

"Wait. How long have I been out?" I asked, rubbing a bump on the back of my head.

"Three days," Riley answered.

"You passed out right after your mom took out the psycho-babbler," Oz explained. "We brought you here to recover. I don't know of any hospital that would buy our story."

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around the large, lavish bedroom.

"Mi casa!" Riley beamed.

"I think you mean 'castle'," Oz poked. "This place is crazy huge."

"So my parents splurged after finding success," Riley defended. "Is that a crime?"

"No," Oz scoffed. "But, neither is charity."

"We offered you a bed, didn't we?"

"Well, I didn't want to miss Avian finally coming back to us," Oz said, relaxing his sarcasm. "I wanted to be here." 

I knew that feeling well. Oz continued to speak, but his voice faded underneath a memory. I envisioned a boy, wrapped in his father's shirt, looking out the window and seeing nothing but an empty parking space. Oz's words began to overlap the recollection. 

"And once I found her, she told me, point blank, she was the only one who could save Avian."

"Hang on a second," I interjected. "You found my mom?"

"Yeah," Oz answered proudly. "When I left the island with my parents, we joined a small crew of the Vigilant. It was one of several crews spread out over the world. All they do is mission work. The crew we were with ran a soup kitchen. It was a pretty amazing experience. A few nights after we got there, a couple of arbiters were talking about an element in Africa who was making a huge difference with the relief efforts. I couldn't believe it when they said her name was Mary Anne Douglas. I rushed to tell my parents the news. They were with this Vigilant bigwig, studying some huge printout of a coded message. It was a bunch of ones and zeroes."

"I know what you're talking about," I said. "There's an entire division in Cartesia dedicated to analyzing that code."

"The Alcove," Riley elaborated.

"Apparently, my mom was once a member," Oz explained. "Her best friend convinced her to resign from her post and work the books for some new restaurant."

"My mom," Riley said, putting the story together.

"The Crescendo," I connected.

"That's where she met my dad," Oz said. "He worked the kitchen with David and Ruth while she managed the logistics. I've seen her crank out budgets and inventories, but that's nothing compared to what she made of that code. She highlighted two strands of numbers, a pair of hidden patterns. Honestly, it looked like a couple of swinging jump ropes, but she said it was important and it was something that could be easily missed."

"That's why they went to Cartesia," Riley said, nodding her head.

"But, I refused to go," Oz stated, turning to me. "Not until I made things right with you. I had a chance to reunite a family. Mister Bigwig helped make that happen."

"Mister Bigwig, huh?" asked a smooth tenor voice, startling all of us. He held up open hands, attempting to convey he meant no harm. As we calmed ourselves, he added, "I suppose it has a subtle ring of endearment." 

Locks of dark, wavy hair brushed his sideburns, flowing from a navy ballcap with a red curved bill, which shaded his eyes. Stitched into the navy fabric of his hat, a "C" wrapped around the base of a capital "T". His caramel-colored skin brought out the flecks of silver in his moustache. A cotton undershirt and denim jeans stretched over his stocky build.

"I'm sorry," Oz said, hiding his embarrassment. "Um, this is Jaime Vega."

"You can spare the introduction," he said, waving his hand. "It's nice to see you again, Avian."

I furrowed my eyebrows and tilted my head to the side. "Forgive me for asking, but have we met?"

"You really don't remember me, do you?" he said, stepping closer. I shook my head nervously, unsure of how to respond. "What about my children? Anthony and Natalie."