Underneath the soft glow of the penrose orbs in the sky, undeniable beauty sprinted toward me. Her long, ebony locks floated freely in the sea breeze and shimmered with a shade of scarlet. A single braid slid over the crown of her head, slipping behind the straightened layers. Her almond eyes held a mesmerizing stare with speckles of mint green dancing around each chocolate iris. A silk scarf wrapped around the fair skin of her neck as the tassels disappeared and reappeared inside her waving hair. The draping ends of her black, lace cardigan caught every gust and brushed the high-waisted shorts, which hugged the lower curves of her hourglass. The hilt of a dagger peeked out from a holster, strapped to one of her slender thighs.
"You're here," she said, her angelic voice fluttering. "You came back." Before I could lose myself in her glistening eyes, she leapt with open arms, embracing me. "I know this can't possibly mean anything to you." She tightened her hold, pressing her body into mine. "But, it means everything to me." My hands cautiously rubbed her shoulder blades, half-heartedly reciprocating the affectionate greeting. She pulled away and dried her moistened cheek with the cuff of her cardigan. "Sorry. I'm sorry. That was probably really awkward for you."
"No, no—it's okay," I assured, blushing. "It was nice."
"Nice. Right," she muttered, fidgeting with her sterling necklace. She kissed the clasp next to the dangling gemstone charms before moving it around her neck.
"We should get back to the shelter," Anthony advised as Natalie nodded in agreement.
"Wait," I said, shaking my head out of the daze Maddie drew. "No, I need to get all of you back to the other grid. Right now."
"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Natalie questioned.
"With this," I replied, tapping the center beacon on my Valet. The lights flickered with a gargled hum and slowly faded.
"Oh, Donovan," the twins said in unison.
"Someday, he'll learn that you can't replace drivers with life jackets and Christmas lights," Anthony said, adjusting the strap to the leather knapsack over his shoulder. With sleeves rolled past his elbows, an oxford shirt stretched over his husky build. A pair of wire-framed sunglasses sat just above his dark widow's peak.
"I doubt he accounted for underwater excursions," Natalie giggled, looping her thumbs around the suspenders over a white camisole, halting at her midriff. The yellow fletching of a dart poked out from a twisted bun which kept her hair from flapping in the wind, save for the few strands which grazed her face. An assortment of silver bangles jingled around each of her wrists.
"This can't be happening," I said, still trying to start the sequence with my soft taps growing into panicked slams. "I'm supposed to get you back. I have to get you back! I have to get back!" I stripped off the Valet and threw it down on the sand as the images of Riley, Oz, and my mother suffocated any other thought. "I can't lose them again!" I fell to my knees. The crests of waves crashed harder onto the beach.
Maddie quickly knelt in front of me, placing her palm on my forehead. "Calm down," she whispered, gazing into my eyes. Warm, colored light strobed against my skin, transitioning from green to gray to blue. "We can't lose you again. I can't lose you again." My pulse, pounding against my temples, tapered off into a steady rhythm. As my muscles relaxed, the roaring tides softened and the wondrous light evanesced.
"How did you do that?" I asked in an exhale.
"You're looking at the queen of mind games," Anthony replied as he and his sister brought me to my feet. "She could've easily dropped you into a cackling hysteria."
Natalie rolled her eyes. "I think she made the right call."
"Madison Maestro," she said, extending her hand. "This is probably how I should have started things." I shook her hand, gently chuckling. "It's a pleasure."
"I'll say," I said under my breath, unable to avoid enchantment.
Anthony picked up the Valet and dusted off the sand. "Now that the two of you have reshaped the phrase, ''Til we meet again', I think we should be on our way."
"Oh, be quiet," Natalie said, pushing him to the side. "It's sweet."
"Anthony's right," Maddie stated. "We should go. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention."
The twins led us up the hillside which overlooked the desolate, rocky terrain. Obstructing the view, a wide plateau walled anything further inland.
"Sad, isn't it?" Natalie sighed, reading my expression. "Really makes me miss the other Correo Island."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, glancing back at the barren surroundings. "That can't possibly be this grid's Correo Island."
"You're looking at what's left of it," Anthony said, reaching the top of the hill. "If you want, I'll take you on the depressing tour a little later."
"I don't understand. What hap—" I began, interrupted by the sight of a dark figure standing on the beach at the base of the hill. A fedora casted a masking shadow as the tails of a charcoal trench coat whipped in the wind. "Wh-Who is that?"
"Unwanted attention," Maddie answered, hurrying me over the hilltop. "Come on."
"Temporary home, sweet temporary home," Anthony said, stopping halfway down the other side. He gestured to the solid slope of sand and stone. "After you, Avian."
"I'm not seeing a penrose or a bottomless pit, so I'm at a loss," I replied. "What am I supposed to do?"
Maddie leaned in close and stroked the nape of my neck with her fingertips, tracing a circle over and over. "Sometimes, you need someone to show you what you've missed."
A triangular corridor revealed itself with every blink of my eyes. "Unbelievable," I whispered.
"Long live the queen," Natalie said, smiling at Maddie.
Anthony patted my shoulder. "Come on. There's quite a lot to catch up on."
The slanted rock walls widened with each step forward, leading to a bunker fit for the apocalypse. Sealed plastic buckets and steel propane tanks lined one wall. On the opposite side, black-trimmed foot lockers sat beneath several shelves, carved from the stone. An expansive library filled the shelf space with archaic weaponry acting as bookends. From end to end on the far wall, countless post-it notes and photographs wallpapered every inch, some covered with scribbled captions while others carried a bold-faced, red X.
"Why don't you have a seat?" Natalie offered, pulling out one of the many mismatched chairs which surrounded the ping-pong table at the center of the room.
"Okay," I replied, my response trailing off as I sat down.
"Here it is," Maddie said, rummaging through one of the foot lockers. She closed the case and held out a straight lead pipe. "I really hope this works."
"Me, too," the twins agreed.
I grasped the heavy hunk of metal, confused yet curious. "And I'm supposed to do what with this?"
"I thought you said he made it," Anthony said, arching his eyebrow.
"He did," Maddie insisted. "He just doesn't know he did."
"What—I—How—" I stammered, studying the pipe. "Can't you just give me back my memories? It would make this go a lot faster, wouldn't it?"
"Give them back?" Maddie replied. "Avian, I didn't take them. They never left you."
"What?"
"Your memories. I didn't remove them. I—" Her eyes traced the contours of her shaded lids as she searched for her words. "—relabeled them."
I set the pipe on the table and buried my face in my hands, frustrated.
"Maddie, that didn't come off as comforting as you wanted it to," Anthony said.
Sighing, she walked to the side of the room and took a book from the shelf, wiggling it from the wedge of a makeshift bookend—the wooden shaft of a medieval morning star. She stripped the book of its dust jacket, replacing it with another's.
"Here," she said, placing the hardback book on the table. "What is this?"
Reading the words on the cover, I recited, "The Merriam-Webster Dictionary."
"Are you sure?"
I opened the sheathed story. "A Tale of Two Cities." Cracking a small smile, I turned the page. "'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...'" I closed the book and drew a deep breath. "That sounds about right."
"No, Avian. You're missing the point," Maddie explained. "A different cover on the outside doesn't change the story on the inside."
"So, can you re-cover my memories? Relabel them the way they're supposed to be?"
"Believe me, I want to. But, I can't take that risk. I've tried it before and..." She bit down on her bottom lip and folded her arms. "...it was more than he could handle." She sighed. "It's always easier to forget than to remember."
"Then, how do I get them back?" I asked, standing from the chair. "Do I hit myself upside the head with this pipe until my brain unscrambles?"
"Avian, that's not a pipe," she said, pointing. "That's a baton. It'll help you get your memories back."
"What?"
"It twists at the middle." I unscrewed the two pieces. "But, be careful!" A pair of multi-colored marbles rolled out, dropping to the floor. One of the plastic buckets against the wall burst open and small streams of water rushed underneath the ping-pong table. The swishing streams intertwined, forming a crystal-clear bowl which cradled the falling glass spheres.
"Whoa!" the twins exclaimed.
As I scooped the marbles from the raised liquid, the formation collapsed, splashing on the stone floor and sliding into the crevices.
"I see Jaime held up his end of the bargain," Maddie inferred.
"What do you mean?" I asked, still stunned and off-balance.
"The channeled aperas. We all thought you were a little crazy, transferring so much power. Then again, you're not one to make mistakes, especially when it comes to judging character. You'll never not inspire me, Avian Douglas."
Her charm warmed my skin and shook me out of my shocked stupor. "So, what do I do now?"
She grabbed the two pieces of the baton. "You rediscover who you are." I inserted a marble in each piece. "Miniaturized penrose orbs," she explained. "They sit above and below your strata in the baton's housing." I took the chess pawn from my cargo pocket and she twisted the two lead pieces around it. "Now, it's all about retracing your steps. Anything you've experienced is tied to a place. Find the place; Relive the experience." She placed the baton in my hands.
As the penrose orbs and my strata rattled inside, a hazy hue blanketed the room. At the entrance of the shelter I saw myself, donning my father's red flannel shirt and stepping outside.
"Look, it's working," I said, glancing at Maddie and the twins.
"We can't see what you see," Maddie replied. "This is a relay you're running by yourself."
The image of myself began to drift out of sight. "Where am I go—" I said, before a realization interrupted, beckoning me to chase after the projected memory.
"He was here? In our shelter?" Natalie probed.
"He was. Right before he jumped grids," Maddie answered.
Stumbling down the hill, I followed myself to a ridge which dropped off to the shoreline. Green ivy, the only vegetation on this wasteland, covered three gravestones. Two sat side-by-side with the other, directly behind one. I watched myself crumble in front of them.
"I'm so sorry," I cried. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough." Slowly and one at a time, I topped each memorial with a trinket—the fallen's strata. "But, I'm strong enough now. And I'll make this right."
The light fog misted away. Each unbearable epitaph crushed my soul. Beneath a small measuring cup, the chiseled letters formed DAVID MONROE. A sideways teardrop rested on the marker next to his, above the name RILEY MONROE. Covering the sobs with a hand over my mouth, I knelt down. That's when I noticed the strata on the gravestone behind hers—an identical falling teardrop on its side, a mirrored reflection of Riley's.
These weren't teardrops; Each was a half of infinity.
Crawling around to the other side, I read another name I didn't want to read:
NICHOLAS OSWALD