If one reads the sequence aloud—“zero four, two-four, fifteen, eight-six-zero”—it has the rhythm of a CB radio handle or a dispatch call. It is the language of truckers hauling freight from Albuquerque to Flagstaff, of the Navajo Police reporting a stray horse on Highway 77, of a nurse at the North Country Health Care center logging a patient’s birth. The numbers are not cold; they are functional, intimate, worn smooth by daily use.