“Your name is Theo isn’t it?” he asked. She nodded to him as they walked towards a towering white building, stretching upwards to a massive domed roof. Two, giant pillars chaperoned the gleaming steps that lead to the massive open doors, built from dark metal which looked like bronze.
“How ‘come I know your name?” asked Cesar as they both passed through the doorway.
“Bob will explain it to you,” replied Theo, “He’ll give you all the answers you want, sweetheart.” As they walked, Cesar continued to observe Theo both trying to understand who she was and why he felt as if he’d known her before. He followed closely behind Theo as she opened the door marked ‘C.S.B. White’.
“My name is Robert White—please call me Bob.” A dapper man in a grey pinstripe suit approached him in a spacious room decorated with beautiful cherry wood, more books than he’d ever seen and strange oriental decorations here and there. Bob had an infectious grin and seem delighted to be introduced to the boy. He had a gravelly yet pleasant voice, similar to the Catholic priest that would tell stories of the old days to the children of his village. “And you, Cesar, are my new assistant.” Theo stood behind Cesar with her hands on his shoulders and winked when he looked up at her.
“Well, let see…” chuckled Bob, tapping his chin in thought. “This place doesn’t look like Mexico as there aren’t any burros around and you’re feeling much better… I’ve got it! You’ve croaked!” said Bob, snapping his fingers in triumph.
Cesar felt Theo’s grip tighten slightly on his shoulders as she flashed a shocked look at the older man.
Bob noticed the look of concern evident in Cesar’s face and changed to a more sympathetic tone, “Forgive me for my levity little chum, but you, like so many other children, had become sick. Much too sick to recover I’m afraid. But today is not a day for sadness! Aha! We are most certainly glad that you have finally arrived.” Bob nodded towards Theo. “Theo, is going to perform a little field work and you shall be assisting me in tying up loose ends in some of our… projects.”
Cesar felt like his mother and former life were a distant memory. For the first time, he realized that he lived his short life in abject poverty in a hovel of a home. They were only rich in love—his mother worked her fingers raw to provide food and his grandmother would sew her arthritic hands to numbness and her tired eyes to darkness to make their poor life slightly bearable.
