C. Adams: Version 2.0

“No one’s had kids here in over twenty years,” Reesy added.

“Why?”

“Who would want to have their child taken from them and raised somewhere where you don’t get to see them again, until they die?” Emmett asked, as an answer. Birdie thought about that for a long while, allowing her gaze to fall back out the window. Em and Reesy shared a long glance in the rear view mirror.

As they got further into the island, Birdie saw a larger number of people. There were a lot of walkers, and an almost equal amount of people on bicycles. Little shops adorned the area, alongside diners and cafes. She was quick to notice the lack of motor vehicles.

“I take it there aren’t many cars here,” she commented.

“Not many,” Emmett replied. “This is an electric car. There are maybe a couple dozen on our part of the island. Mostly emergency response vehicles.”

“Can you imagine getting a gas tanker in here?” Reesy smirked.

“No outsiders visit the island?”

“Rarely. Not this part of it, anyway,” Emmett told her. “We’re self-sustaining, here. Everything is solar, wind or water powered. We grow our own food.”

“On occasion, we can get a food-run brought back from outside the island,” Reesy told her. “Words of wisdom: ration your chocolate.”

“ Hoard your chocolate,” Emmett added. “Maybe I should’ve also gotten you some chocolate…”

“We’re here,” Reesy said a bit shortly, as she parked. Emmett made a sound similar to a squeal, clapping his fingers together.

“What are you so excited about?” Birdie asked, smiling and giving him an odd look.

“Oh, uh,” he glanced at Reesy’s reflection in the rear-view mirror before meeting Birdie’s eyes again. “Just… really excited to uh… try the new cinnamon-caramel-chocolate latte, is all,” he grinned, nervously. “I hear it’s all the rage.”

“Your gay is showing,” Reesy said, as she exited the car.

“It’s supposed to be,” Emmett retorted, snappily.

“What is with you two, today?” Birdie asked, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen you argue so much.”

“It’s nothing,” Emmett replied.

“Creative differences,” Reesy added, looking only at Emmett, before turning to head into the coffee shop.

Emmett took a calming breath in through his nose, and glanced over at Birdie, giving her a reassuring smile before he, too, headed toward the cafe. Birdie followed, catching up to him so that they entered together.

There was nothing particularly exciting about the shop. It was a lot bigger than anything she’d gone to when she lived in DC, and the only coffee she ever got in Dagsboro was always in a diner. This was almost a cross between the two. The walls were cranberry and chocolate colored, and there were small tables lining the right side.

There was a bookshelf against another wall, and a bar lined with stools separated the workers from the customers. Birdie had only glanced over the entire place before fixing her eyes on the menu board behind the counter. The shop was fairly empty, aside from a few tables with people around her age talking to one another in between sips of their coffee. In the far corner, someone sat facing away from the others, engrossed in something on his computer. And a few younger people sat nearest the shelf, their noses planted in books.

Birdie made a face at all the odd choices on the menu.

The young man at his laptop grew slightly annoyed at the small-talk going in the order line. He expected there to be talking. Hell, he’d been coming to this cafe for years, now. Sitting at home to work sometimes grew tiresome. There was no one there to make him coffee. Walking to and from the cafe several times a day tended to waste a lot of time. Noise was the sacrifice for saving time. Though in hindsight, it maybe evened out. In the end, hot and fresh coffee settled the argument in his head.

He was stuck on a line, anyway, and absentmindedly started to listen in on the conversation. He recognized Reesy and Emmett’s voices when they ordered. A small, sad smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he remembered his time with them in debriefing. Emmett had made a fair share of harmless advances. As flattering as it might’ve been at the time, he didn’t quite share the older man’s gender preferences. Reesy, of course, had thought it was quite hilarious. As much time as it had taken him getting used to the woman’s voice, he had grown fond of her as well. They’d shared plenty of conversation with coffee evenings together over the years. Most of them revolving around him needing to find a girlfriend. Something he was seriously not interested in.

The woman with them was next to order. It was likely her first time top-side, if she was with them. If he was lucky, they hadn’t seen him. Reesy would undoubtedly try and introduce her to him, in hopes he’d be interested in getting together. He sunk further down in his chair, which was already uncomfortable as it was, with his height. “Can I just get a plain old coffee?” the woman asked the cashier. “Three sugars and three creams, please.”

Something happened to his body, at the sound of the familiar voice. Like one of those instant ice packs that you have to break apart the piece inside, and suddenly there’s a chemical reaction that freezes it all. Except it wasn’t cold he was feeling. It was prickly and numbing and almost burning with its intensity. He realized his heart was pounding so hard against his chest that he was sure he could hear it, too.

He found himself moving, his pile of books crashing to the floor in his effort to turn around as he stood. He had to see if it was really her. His focus was now on the woman who had ordered the coffee with the three creams and three sugars.

“Birdie?” his voice felt broken; almost too quiet for her to hear.

The three of them had turned to investigate when they heard the books crash to the floor. But when the man said her name, Birdie narrowed her eyes as she met his. Then the realization of whom she was seeing, hit her. Suddenly, her entire body felt frozen and sweltering, all at the same time. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his. It was like they had been frozen there. “Oh god,” she thought. “I really am dead. I really am… dead…”

“Birdie, honey?” Emmett grabbed her shoulder. “Breathe,” he soothed.

She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath. “Brian?” her voice cracked, and she willed away the wetness that was gathering in her eyes as it blurred her vision.

He simply watched her in shock, close to tears, himself. “Birdie,” he said again, searching her eyes.

Something welled up so strongly within her, as if suddenly it was real. Birdie didn’t know what it was. She didn’t know how to process it. For years, she’d swallowed down and jarred up every single emotion that ever stood in her path, and set them on a huge shelf in her mind. Thousands of them, all sitting up there as if they’d never move. And Brian just pushed the shelf over completely. Fear.

She screamed. She screamed and then she ran right out of the cafe and kept going. She wasn’t sure where. But she was going…

Brian was still frozen. Suddenly, the day he’d woken up reborn, came rushing back to him like a punch…

“Where the hell am I!” Brian shouted, pushing up off of the table he’d woken up on.

“Calm down, pretty boy,” Reesy stood, trying to stop him from toppling off of the table.

“Who are you? What am I doing here? I… I don’t remember…”

“I’ll tell you, but you need to calm down.”

“Listen to her, sweet-cheeks,” Emmett said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. “We’re here to help you. You’re okay.”