Coffee and Casing

Kit wasn’t one to take much time for herself that didn’t include violence or alcohol – it was hard to give herself the time. Her brain never slowed down, never stopped working a mark, worrying about Killian, trying to keep things running smoothly for jobs. Not that Killian didn’t help with the first or last on that list – the work was evenly split and they both did their share. But unlike her brother, Kit didn’t know how to just stop, to relax.
 
Even when she did finally let herself take a moment, she worked. Maybe not officially, but it didn’t stop.
 
Sometimes, when the K&K had an extra day or two in port, Kit would convince herself she was going to rest – that she’d relax, spend some time doing nothing.
 
There was one island in particular they docked in semi-regularly. It was a wealthy island, one that stood out amidst the rest due to the lack of extreme disparity between the wealthy and the non. It wasn’t that there wasn’t any, but the wealthy seemed to hold value for the people who lived there. Those who worked for them were well-paid, families taken care of, and the markets and business districts all thrived. Everyone seemed to have enough to at least get by.
 
Although Kit and Killian rarely had money, Kit had started stashing a few pieces of gold away here and there for whenever they were on the island.
 
At the edge of the market, with a spectacular view of an alcove near the harbour, was a small shop that specialized in serving hot beverages – in particular, fresh brewed coffee. An outdoor patio was set up out the front where patrons could sit and enjoy their drinks and baked goods while simply enjoying the scene before them.
 
Killian had barely made it off the ship before Kit had grabbed her small coin purse, put on some less conspicuous clothing, and made her way towards her respite. It was early enough in the day that the shop was still quiet, and most of the tables were still free.
 
Stepping up to the counter, she ordered a simple coffee from the barista, and waited patiently for the largest cup of coffee on the menu to glide across the wood top towards her. She could smell its strong aroma even before it came her way, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to slide off her shoulders. Wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic, she lifted the cup and made her way over to a table shaded by the canopy, almost blending into the dark reddish bricks.
 
To Kit, this place and its existence was completely surreal to her. Then again, so was this island. A place with minimal crime, where all were taken care of. The first time the twins had arrived, they were certain it was a cover for something even more nefarious. They found nothing – even the marks Kit hoped to land proved themselves to be too much on the straight and narrow for her list of qualifications to consider them.
 
As Kit took a sip of the dark liquid, she watched the community slowly coming to life around her, then pulled out a small notebook, a writing instrument, and returned to her watch. Her eyes darted from person to person, studying them for any signs that they should be considered as more nefarious than one might presume upon first glance.
 
For hours she sat, taking notes, reviewing them, observing. Waiting and hoping to find something, anything that might explain the strangeness of the place. But nothing. Six hours later, she returned to the ship, a book full of notes, a head full of questions, and nothing but the shakes from too many coffees and confusion over the state of the place.
 
Walking the streets, she smiled and nodded at the friendly residents, who returned her smiles with a pleasantness she wasn’t quite used to. Any normal person, she assumed, would take delight in that. Maybe others who were in her shoes, of dealing with being treated poorly for who she was, might find it a great relief. Kit, however, found it almost uncomfortable. As if something were not quite right about it.
 
The sun still hung high in the sky as Kit approached the docks, taking one last look towards the port city that they’d be departing from in the middle of the night. If she hadn’t slowed to focus on one shadowed part of a building at the far end of the harbour that formed a curved sort of alcove, she almost might have missed it. Piles of ruddy clothes, and chains with handcuffs hanging along the walls. She frowned and pulled back out her notebook looking down to write what she saw.
 
When Kit looked back up, the alcove was clear – not shadowed or filled with anything she saw. Instead, there was a white stone wall building with several windows and flowers hanging from them. She blinked in confusion, a chill running down her spine. Surely, that hadn’t been there before.
 
“Never seen you so fascinated with walls and flowers before, sister.”
 
Killian’s voice startled her.
 
“I thought I saw something…” she replied, trailing off.
 
Killian frowned. “Are y’okay Kit? You seem… troubled.”
 
She shook her head. “It was probably nothing. Let’s just get out of here.”
 
Kit slipped the notebook away, and climbed back on the ship, her gaze not moving from that building until long after the ship had begun to pull out of the harbour later that night. During the next several hours, the white walls and flowers remained, unchanging. Kit finally went to bed, frustrated at what she knew she saw, but couldn’t explain.
 
Finally, she relented to the exhaustion that had overtaken her as the effects of the caffeine finally wore off, deciding that the next time they were in town, once Killian had gone to do his thing, she’d pay the building a closer look.