Miguel lifted his baseball cap, scratched his fuzzy scalp where the bandages used to be, and then put the cap back on.
Dorning noticed the boy’s actions. “Does it itch?” he asked.
“A little.”
Dorning laid his head back down on the beach blanket, in the shade of an outcropping of rocks. “That will go away soon.”
Miguel sat on top of the rocks, surveying the ocean. He watched in amusement as a few seagulls wrestled over a small fish washed ashore.
“I really like it out here,” he said.
“Well, since you can’t bicycle anymore, I thought this would be all right as long as you were supervised. I would rather have you watch TV or play video games though, like most boys your age.”
Miguel shook his head. “I never liked video games much. Probably because I didn’t grow up with them. I like being outside better.”
“That’s certainly healthier for you.”
Miguel looked down at Dorning, laughing silently to himself at the doctor’s girth and the baggy plaid swimsuit that couldn’t quite disguise it.
“You should get outside more often yourself.”
Dorning patted his flabby stomach. “Yes. Well. If you’re implying I’m horribly out of shape, I’ve had no time for regular exercise, I’m afraid. I’ve been much too busy.”
Miguel saw the biggest seagull had won the fight for the fish, and was flying away with it.
“Aren’t you worried that the professor hasn’t reappeared in a while?”
“Somewhat. Not too much.”
“I’m not.”
Dorning grunted then looked thoughtful. “I’m not so sure anymore it’s wise to force . . . uh, rush things until I know more about complete memory transfer. Now that I know how to make the procedure work, I’m continuing my animal experiments. I don’t want to risk harming you or the professor by doing anything rash. Like I said, you’re in this together you know.”
The boy lay down on his stomach, his head and arms dangling over the edge of the rock so he could speak straight down to the doctor. “When am I going to get that operation you promised so the professor and I can share my brain?”
Dorning stirred uneasily, tried not to show it. “Well, since the professor hasn’t made a recent reappearance I guess that’s much less of a priority now, isn’t it?”
“Just don’t take forever, that’s all. I don’t want it to end up too late.” “No, of course not.” Dorning sat up and stretched.
“I was thinking of something else, too . . . if you promise you won’t get mad.”
Dorning looked up at the boy. “All right. I promise,” he said. “What is it?”
“Well, are you sure you talked to my mother and told her I’m okay? I mean, she does worry about me if I don’t see her once in a while. And did you really give her some money like you promised you would?” Miguel looked hopeful. “She could sure use some since she doesn’t have a job.”
Dorning’s piercing gaze was unflinching. “Oh, absolutely. She now has enough money for all her immediate needs. And she said to tell you she loves you very much and completely understands why you can’t see her just yet. You should try to accept that too, Miguel. Your mother has.”
The boy’s hopeful expression turned sad. “Well, okay.” His face brightened again. “If I can’t visit my mother, can I at least go see my old friends?”
Dorning was puzzled by the request and frowned in disapproval. “Those hooligans? Why on Earth would you want to go back to that wretched part of town?”
“I don’t know. I guess I kind of miss them. I’d just like to see what they’re up to.”
“They’re undoubtedly up to no good. I can tell you that right now. Don’t forget they refused to go with you to the emergency room when you banged your head on my car. I wouldn’t consider anyone like that a very good friend. They were only concerned about themselves.”
Miguel’s sad expression returned, but he said nothing.
“Why don’t you just enjoy this beautiful day we’re having and stop dwelling on the past?”
The boy scrambled down from the rocks. “Okay. Can I go into the water up to my waist?”
Dorning looked at the rolling waves and saw the ocean wasn’t too active. “You may go in, but just up to your knees, no further. I’ll be watching.”
“Deal.”
Miguel ran the short distance into the retreating surf.
Dorning sighed, still wishing the boy wasn’t so fascinated with the water.
A wave rushed over his legs and the boy laughed. “Come on, Doctor, you should try it. The water’s not too cold.”
Dorning slowly shook his head. “No thank you. I never cared much for aquatics.”
A stronger wave struck the boy from behind, first pushing him forward, then dragging him back a few steps as it withdrew. The water surged around the boy’s waist.
“Be careful now,” Dorning chided him. “You’re getting in a little too deep.”
“I’m all right. I think.”
A towering wave suddenly reared up behind the boy and rushed towards him.
Dorning scrambled to his feet. “Look out!”
The wave swept Miguel’s hat off and knocked his legs out from under him, then crashed ashore and retreated, taking the boy with it. His arms flailed in the air, his head barely visible.
“Help . . . me!” The words were sputtered, and then Miguel was gone.
Dorning charged into the ocean.
“Percival? Professor!”
There was no answer, and no Miguel.
Dorning finally saw the boy’s head reemerge further out and spit a fountain of water like a whale before disappearing again.
The doctor launched himself forward in a belly flop, paddling as best he could until he was able to reach out and grab Miguel by the leg.
“You mean you can’t swim at all?” Dorning asked.
A wave poured over the doctor’s head, leaving him hacking.
“No. Can you?”
“No,” Dorning gasped.
He put his hands under Miguel’s arms and threw him as hard as he could towards the shore. “Try,” he ordered, and slipped under the water.
A wave lifted the boy up, speeding him toward the beach. Miguel kicked until his feet touched bottom, where he found a foothold. He fought to walk, the water dragging heavy against his legs, until the wave pulled back and he made it safely to the shore, breathless but unscathed.
He immediately turned around and scanned the ocean for the doctor. All he could see was the frightening, empty surface rocking up and down.
Then he saw the doctor burst up halfway out of a swell, as if thrown. Dorning splashed down on his back, crying out to him.
“Save yourself, Professor!”
The boy stood wide-eyed in disbelief, arms outstretched as if to command the doctor to come forward. Then his arms drooped to his sides and his head sank to his chest. His eyelids fluttered.
When his head rose moments later, he pinpointed Dorning still flailing helplessly, farther yet from shore.
Marlowe gasped in astonishment at the sight and took a step forward. “What? Dorning? Is that you? What the devil are you trying to do, you idiot? You don’t know how to swim!”
He ran and knifed cleanly into the water, swimming with fast, precise strokes to where Dorning bobbed up and down.
When he arrived, Dorning had rolled on to his stomach. Marlowe turned him over on his back again. The doctor coughed and gulped.
“First of all, Dorning, stay on your back. And second, stop thrashing about, will you? That doesn’t help matters at all.” Dorning opened his eyes.
“Percival?” he wheezed.
“Yes, yes. Who else would save you? Now keep your head above water, and I’ll get us home.”
The professor wrapped his right arm around Dorning to tow him to shore.
“Good thing fat floats, Dorning, or you’d be in big trouble.”
“Yes, Professor.”
Marlowe propelled them to shallow water. “Try to stand up. I don’t want to scrape your back on the jagged bottom.”
Dorning slowly rose to his feet in the knee-high water, standing bent over with his hands on his thighs.
“That’s a good boy, Doctor. Now let’s have a nice walk together up the beach, shall we?’
The professor guided Dorning ashore. The doctor staggered to the empty beach blanket and sat down heavily in the shade, his legs drawn up to his chest, his head on his knees.
He caught his breath before speaking. “It’s good to have you back again, Professor. I sincerely hope you don’t intend to leave anytime soon.”
Marlowe looked surprised. “I was gone somewhere?”
Dorning raised his head and smiled weakly. “Yes. Tell me something, Percival. What time do you think it is?”
The professor looked to the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. “It seems to be about midday. Why do you ask?”
“Do you remember anything at all about this morning?”
Marlowe looked thoughtful. “That’s odd. No, I don’t.”
“What do you remember last?”
His thoughtful expression remained. “I remember coming home from the clinic with you and Natalie, then going to bed in my own room. That was Sunday night if I’m not mistaken.”
“So you think today must be Monday, correct?”
“Yes, I do.”
Dorning slowly shook his head; his weak smile remaining. “You’re wrong, Professor. Today is Friday. You reverted back to the boy five days ago. But I knew you’d return. It was only a matter of time.”
Marlowe squatted down on the sand in front of Dorning.
“Friday! Incredible. I remember absolutely nothing about those missing days.” He glanced behind him at the rolling waves. “Apparently I picked a good time to make my grand reappearance. Lucky for you.”
Dorning stared at the ocean. “Yes, indeed. This certainly isn’t how I planned it, but I would say the shock of nearly seeing me drown was enough to trigger memories of the swimmer in you. That was enough to bring you back to us.”
“Well, I was the best one in school.” He looked down at his lithe frame. “And I guess I’m a good one again, aren’t I? So what were you doing out there, Dorning? I don’t understand.”
“I was trying to save you. I mean, the boy. He was inadvertently pulled in by the surf.”
“You mean he can’t swim either?”
“No. It was foolish of me to let him go in the water at all. It almost cost you your life, precisely what I worked so hard for so many years to save.”
“Not to mention nearly costing you your own life, Doctor.”
Dorning grunted. “Yours is far more important than mine, Professor. Let’s not kid ourselves.”
Marlowe looked dismayed at Dorning’s comment. “Your life is every bit as important as mine, Doctor. Why, without you, I wouldn’t even be here. Your achievement is truly extraordinary, one for the history books.”
Dorning waved a hand. “Yes, at least until the do-gooders discover how I—well, never mind.” He stood, picked the blanket up off the sand and gave it a shake. “Let’s just go home. I think I’ve had enough of the ocean for one day. I need something to drink.”
The professor got up and followed him. “If that would be a glass of sherry, I’ll join you.”
Dorning stopped and looked down at him. “Sorry, Professor. I don’t believe you’re old enough to drink. I could lose my liquor license.” He grinned.
Marlowe’s eyebrows went up. “My God, I hadn’t thought of that. I guess there’s all kinds of age-related issues for me to consider, aren’t there?
“Yes, but they’re all meaningless.”
The professor stroked his chin thoughtfully as they resumed walking. “Hmm. Try telling that to the women I used to know.”
Dorning gasped. “Why, Percival!”
Marlowe laughed. “I’m only joking, Doctor. Don’t be so strait-laced. I’ll tell you one thing, though. When I go through puberty again, this time I’ll get it right. I look forward to the next few years, Dorning. I most certainly do.”
“It’s not just a few years, Professor. You have an entire new lifetime now, thanks to the boy.”
Marlowe’s eyebrows went up again, but this time the eyes beneath them held a hint of misgiving and concern.