Harry has taken the burdens of the world on his shoulders or so it looks … I'm having fun watching for now.

Hunched over the table, on that put-together thing called laptop, every part of which has been recycled in the last five years, Harry thinks he's gonna solve the puzzle at one go and win the game.

I have already rehearsed in my mind the juiciest nugget, the only one that his focus would fall for, but I'm biding time in sympathy.

I've already tired of staring at the yellow circles all across the montage of those homeless row pics that his MolarTM projects on the wall. He let me help create that montage in the FluidPhoto App so that was fun. Then he plugged in the Molar, a tiny tooth like projector, so we could see a magnified image of the whole montage on the wall.

Having circled with an epen whatever features on every person's image that he found worthy of attention, he is now sitting back at the table, poring over the laptop view, his temples sandwiched between his palms.

At last, I lose my patience.

"Roxie had a similar set of pictures."

He lifts his head as if from a haze. The expression of his eyes is pained, that's how much he's stressed his aching head already.

"What?" he asked befuddled.

"Main Street, Corkscrew Colony, she said. She uploaded them to Homeless Tracker, just like you did."

"That's only forty minutes away from Medusa," Harry mutters and kills the PhotoView.

I can see his activity on the wall as he hasn't detached the Molar. As he navigates The GlobeTrotter - that ancient page-based browser - I instantly feel sick in my tummy.

Even Jaffer has 3D web in his father's laptop. Why can't Harry convert on his? Like, how can you live without 3D Web in this day and age? Well, Harry has pretty old bones beneath his skin if you ask me. Older than his parents probably.

Disgusted, I instantly fall back in step with the grand opening of a new branch of the Weasley Brothers's jokeshop: Fred's Fickle Frivolities.

"There! Look, Brian, look! What does that remind you of?"

It takes me some time to refocus from the new pranks performed by a Fred Weasley puppet to a part of the wall projection my brother was pointing to. I find fresh pictures and more yellow circles. He must have snagged Roxie's uploads from the Tracker and collated them into his montage.

He looks wild with excitement and is pointing at one spot in the middle. The picture is an enlarged crop of the right hand of a person, elbow of that arm probably resting on the person's knee. The hand is held up in front of a sleeping (or fainted) head that has swung low like a flower bulb on the tip of a plant, facing the ground.

Harry has circled the fingers. They are poised in a fanned pattern, each finger slightly curved as if the picture has been taken when the person was in the midst of an argument.

I understand Harry's question now but dismiss the answer. He's told me a hundred times about Jorge's fingers but I liked the point his boss made better. And the image of the fingers on the wall looks too casual.

"So what? It's a coincidence." I love speaking like a wiseguy to irritate him so I do.

"A co-- You must be kidding, boy. Jorge died yesterday, Bri. Yesterday. And now this. These are fourteen people in total, Bri."

"They're not dead, Harry." The image of the person lying with splayed limbs on the reed mat emerges in my mind. I try to scan my memory if he was the one missing when we passed again later. But I can't be sure. There was no one prone on the ground when we passed again, so maybe it was him.

"Hope to God, not." Harry is sincere. "But still. Something's up. Something." He turns toward the projection, arms akimbo. He looks strung - in an eagerness that will not let him sleep for days on end.

I feel sad for Harry then.

Sometimes, his existence seems lonelier than mine, if he has to go to such lengths just to keep busy and … well, I never do see him happy. He smiles, laughs, jokes, yes, all that. But he never looks happy.

Suddenly, another impulse erupts from the active volcano of his heart.

"I need to go find Roxie," he says decisively and leaves.

I wheel to the table, and take out the MolarTM. Next, I spend some time searching the requisites for installing a 3D accommodation to Windows 2X2. Turns out his old Tahini model with a very basic GMM won't support it. A Tahini f6-3B-50 board is the minimum needed to process the full potential of the virtual web. Harry's was f2-2A-04. Ancient.

I feel disgusted all over again and go back to The Weasleys.

***

24 September, 2050

Harry had a hunch where he could find her and he was right.

His heart sank as he saw her form folded against the rock, head tilted back and slightly to the side, eyes cĺosed, arms hugging to keep in some warmth …

She was just a homeless teen like he had been most of his life. Why did he have to be so harsh on her?

He slowed down, softening his tread on the sand. The fall of the worn rubber soles did not rise above the brush of the elements. He sat down a little behind the Fairy Rock and sighed, at a loss for words.

Her breath continued gently pumping up and down for some time, then she stirred. Her form straightened, tense and alert, her eyes opened, then her head moved sharply.

"It's me," he breathed.

She turned away from him, snuggling back on the hard rock but the tension didn't leave her torso. He could only imagine the expression on her face.

He took out a folded paper from the inside of his jacket then and extended it toward her. She noticed it, kept looking at it for a long time.

Like a flash, her hand shot out and struck the paper away from his hand. It rolled away on the sand. Harry had to run after it for some seconds, as the wind had picked up, before he could snatch it back.

He saw it was unspoiled and came back to the rock. This time he stood directly facing her. He was ready for a verbal avalanche from her and counted the seconds.

"What's that?" She was looking away to a side, toward the mangroves and her voice was stern. At least she had engaged.

"A message from Brian."

Harry knew he had lost his leeway to make amends with this girl after how he had behaved at Caleb's. So he'd used his brother, going back to the house and getting Brian to write the note.

"Read it."

Harry drew in a breath and unfolded the paper. Brian's writing was scribbled all over the page. Harry tried to hide the sheepishness as he quietly, solemnly read the note. It said:

Roxie! You're doing well by ignoring my brother! He's an idiot and thinks too high of himself. Whatever he did, never forgive him. Infact, don't let him even talk! But DO come back for me :)

I can't wait for another super-awesome sleepover!!!

That made Roxie smile for a second. Actually, she wanted to laugh out loud but restrained herself.

"Sorry," she said. "That's not gonna be it."

An awkward silence ensued. Roxie merely stood up, arms folded, lips tight, eyes on the distant mangroves.

At last, Harry had to open his mouth.

"I know, I went way over the line. I shouldn't have let my anger get the better of me. And using the crutch of playacting was even worse. But I'm sorry too. Cuz I'm not asking for anyone's forgiveness tonight."

She unfolded her arms and looked at him at last. It would be difficult to describe her expression. Dripping sarcasm, snarky, exasperated … something like that.

"Come on, girl. I know you were nosing around my stuff last night. Why the hell do you expect me to apologize for that?" Harry was calm but defiant none the least.

"I would apologize if you can look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't have done the same in my position, especially after I noticed your midnight disappearing act."

A lonely person hiding their identity, trusting a stranger who goes away on mysterious errands in the dark night … Harry would have done the same and then reported the whole thing to the Bureau.

He looked her in the eye. "I would have done the same and more," he said flatly.

She took a few seconds replying: "I'm sorry you find me an annoying guest. But you're the one who keep running after me to play 'good host'.

She didn't bother him with another glance as she turned to leave. He was sure she'd know her way from here. He tagged behind, keeping a respectful distance.

After some minutes, Roxie burst out laughing.

Harry knew perfectly well what she was laughing at. He couldn't resist a half smile himself.

***

25 September, 2050

"You can stay here for as long as you want. The fun you and Brian are having together is more than enough payback for me." Harry said after breakfast.

"You didn't mention the yummy cooking," Brian quipped cruelly and winked to Harry. Roxie's eyes had already noticed the large pot drying on the mat by the stove. She only raised an eyebrow now.

They had a simple breakfast with a generous sprinkling of Brian's bubbliness. Harry had been mostly silent during the incessant conversation between the kid and the girl.

"Harry is the soul of generosity," Brian continued playfully. "He would rather share his blessings than horde them for a week." This time Brian wiggled his eyebrows teasingly but he made Harry smile.

"I'll have you know," Roxie fixed Harry with a stony glare as she began, "that I don't need anyone's favors. I would know when and if I was being burden more than I've already been and disappear."

"I understand," Harry conceded. He didn't want the subject of cooking to come up again so he got up from the table.

"Brian, you'd be at Ishomoro's half an hour early today."

"Shoot, it's my big math test." Brian slapped his thigh, his face all scrunched up in displeasure.

"I have already arranged with Jud, he'll take you in time," Harry assured Brian. "And don't worry if I run late in the afternoon. I got the day booked with Nelson. We gotta get out of the motel fast. Kid would be showing me around rent ops. I'm hoping to secure a room before the evening's out. I don't get a Sunday off next week."

"Can I go visit the Eisenbergs today? Cooper said he'd let me play Megatronics X3 today."

"Actually, I was thinking of visiting Uncle Hicks today. I thought maybe you'd wanna come?" Harry had deliberately used a personal nickname for Hackster from the Bureau that Brian had made up.

"Really? You agreed? Umm, if Megatronics doesn't pan out, then sure. I'm in."

"Be ready at five sharp."

Harry turned to Roxie next. "Would you please make sure Mrs. Rehman or her son Jaffer is here with Brian when you leave? Brian would tell you where they live on the north wing."

"Sure," was her curt reply. Then she added: "I've an afternoon shift today. I'll be leaving for the library, but definitely back before Brian returns from Hiro's."

Harry nodded before asking, "And you know where to put the keys?"

"Under the split panel out there on the ledge." Roxie pointed to the only window in the room. It was fixed with thick moving-box cardboard and covered with Ninja Turtles and Sipderman posters.

"Good". There was nothing more to talk about so he left with a pat to Brian's head and a general bye.

Roxie helped Brian with his math until his ride arrived. The library was a twenty minutes walk from the motel and was open for only a few hours today. She put the keys in it's hiding place and left.

Roxie knew now Harry was a monitor. He had practically said as much.

She already had her suspicions. There was no other explanation for the extreme anger display at the theater. As for his amends … those had clearly been for Brian's sake.

She would do a few last things she must do now, and then she'd never come back to the motel again.

The last time she had rubbed shoulders with a monitor had turned out to be extremely unpleasant.