BIA Ch. 34

But surprisingly, the tea didn’t taste bad. Bran’s coffee, on the other hand…

“How is it?”

“Not bad.”

For caffeine intake. His blunt response confirmed it was indeed just for show. Isaiah felt a pang of sympathy for some reason. His mood lifted, he took another sip of Darjeeling.

The warm tea quickly warmed him. Taking off his varsity jacket and draping it over the sofa, Isaiah belatedly said, “Oh, right.”

“Thank you for the clothes. I really hadn’t expected you would buy them.”

“I said I would buy them for you.”

“Yes, still. I was a little surprised they were more expensive than I thought.”

They were surprisingly expensive. He knew clothing was all about brand names but he hadn’t realized such an ordinary, ubiquitous raglan hoodie would cost four hundred and thirty dollars.

“That doesn’t matter.”

Of course, it was probably nothing to Bran, who would buy a dress shirt for twelve hundred dollars, wear it for a season, and then discard it.

“Is that hip-hop singer famous?”

He seemed curious about who would sell clothes at such an exorbitant price.

“Well, I’m not an expert on hip-hop, so I don’t really know… but I think he is? I think he won a Grammy or something.”

Bran took another sip of coffee, his expression saying, “I see.”

“Now, if I get shot to death over the cost of these expensive clothes, I’ll become even more famous.”

The research about caffeine activating adrenaline seemed to be true. Watching Bran, Isaiah was certain of it.

“I’ll pay you back for the clothes.”

“I told you, there’s no need.”

“No, I will pay you back.”

Bran laughed incredulously. Realizing he had been acting like a stubborn child, Isaiah said defensively,

“I didn’t buy it because you offered, I bought it because I wanted it. This is essentially a loan. I would rather not use Chester’s card. When my memory returns, when I know where my money is, I will pay you back first. I promise.”

“Well. By then, you probably won’t even remember I bought you the clothes.”

“Why?”

When asked why he was so sure, Bran said matter-of-factly,

“Most people who experience a fugue state forget what happened during that time once their original memories return.”

“What? Really…?”

This was unexpected.

“Completely forget? As if it never happened?”

“Probably.”

Bran spoke as if it were someone else’s story. Which, technically, it was.

“When they do remember, they seem to remember everything but that’s extremely rare.”

“…”

Unable to find a response, Isaiah stared blankly at Bran for a long moment. Finally, picking up his teacup, he said.

“I see. I should keep the receipt then.”

“Are you okay?”

He wasn’t okay. He was far from okay. He was taken aback because he hadn’t considered this possibility. Perhaps it hadn’t sunk in yet because it was still hypothetical.

But what could he do? The body belonged to Isaiah Cole. More importantly, Bran wanted Isaiah Cole, needed Isaiah Cole. What more was there to say?

Yes… that was fine then.

“Yes, it’s okay.”

Isaiah set down his teacup.

“We’re both me, so what?”

He forced a casual smile just as the door chimed, admitting new customers. A Brazilian man and woman, presumably mother and son, entered, chattering loudly. They settled at a table in the back and began unloading their shopping bags. Watching them, Bran suddenly said,

“Come to think of it, I don’t have any nephews but I did buy a gift for a child around that age once.”

“Who?”

“The kid who lived next door when I was little.”

Bran replied, finally looking away from the mother and son.

“The mother raised her son alone, unlike in our family. So, I would often look after the child at our house until his mother finished work.”

When Isaiah looked at him with surprise, Bran blinked, as if asking, “Why?”

“No, I just thought you had a really normal childhood. Cooking and babysitting the neighbor’s kid.”

“What on earth do you think of me?”

Bran laughed, an incredulous look on his face.

“Why, because I’m in the mafia? Did you think that from a young age, mafia members suck on cocaine ^[1]instead of candy and play with guns instead of Legos? And when they get bored, they shoot and kill random people on the street?”

“No, not exactly like that…”

“Of course, most of them are like that.”

“…”

“Good observation. Most mafiosi show their true colors from a young age. There are no sane ones.”

Bran praised him, saying he was quite insightful. It was the first time Isaiah felt offended after receiving a compliment.

“It’s rare for someone like me to live a normal life and then fall into this path later on. Well, my father was already a member of the organization, so I couldn’t say it was entirely normal.”

Just before he passed away, he suffered from alcoholism. A caffeine addict said this while drinking coffee.

“Still, he was devoted to me until the end.”

Chester’s words suddenly came to mind. The mocking tone he used when talking about Bran and his father, saying, “Where would that blood go?” Meanwhile, Chester himself, having inherited the blood of his grandfather, who acted as a godfather to Irish immigrants, was constantly anxious about losing his own position. He was a crazy person in many ways.

“Anyway, that kid next door didn’t cause much trouble but he had absolutely no interest in studying.”

Isaiah flinched again at Bran’s words, imagining the disastrous state of the homework he was sometimes asked to review.

If I express surprise that he even helped with homework… that conversation from earlier will repeat itself, won’t it?

Swallowing his rising exclamation with a sip of tea, Isaiah deliberately changed the subject.

“So, what on earth did you give a child like that as a gift? A tool set? A lawnmower? A basketball, hoping he would grow up strong? A soccer ball? A baseball bat? A glove?”

“No, at that time, I thought there was no hope for him but later on, whether he came to his senses or what, he surprisingly got into a decent university. So, I was saying I sent him a congratulatory gift for his admission.”

“What did you give him?”

“Food for the soul.”

Isaiah looked at Bran with an expression that said, “No way.”

“Drugs…?”

Bran looked at Isaiah for a moment, his eyes full of unspoken words then lifted his coffee cup and replied shortly,

“A book.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Isaiah quickly lowered his head. He was just about to pick up his teacup out of embarrassment when…

“…”

A powerful sense of déjà vu, so intense it made him dizzy, washed over Isaiah and he unconsciously raised his head again. His eyes met his own reflection in the mirror behind Bran. The moment he saw himself wearing a gray raglan hoodie, the déjà vu intensified.

“That’s right… it was like this before.”

He muttered the words as if in a trance and Bran, with his coffee cup raised to his lips, asked, “What?” Isaiah stared at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes unfocused, and rambled.

“I was wearing this then, too. A gray hoodie… talking to a man…”

The man… was wearing black clothes. Like Bran now. Was it a suit? …No, He doesn’t think so. He was tall and didn’t speak much. So, he remember doing all the talking. The hamburger the man bought me… no, that restaurant doesn’t have good hamburgers. They’re too salty and have those sour pickles. He had an open-faced sandwich with shrimp.

“That was their most famous dish… It’s a restaurant I go to often… there’s a big chalkboard on the wall, and the menu is written in chalk. In the middle of the chalkboard, there’s a blue Hawaiian cocktail drawn in blue chalk, and pictures of shrimp and lobster… so the restaurant’s name is…”

Blue Shrimp.

Isaiah hurriedly pulled his smartphone from his back pocket. He opened Google and searched for “Blue Shrimp, Liberty Harbor.” The restaurant information appeared on Trip Advisor. As soon as he clicked on the restaurant name, the first image that popped up was the menu written in chalk on a large chalkboard. Seeing the cocktail glass and shrimp drawn in blue chalk in the center, Isaiah involuntarily cried out.

“That’s it! This is the place!”

Isaiah showed his smartphone to Bran.

“This is it! We need to go here, Bran! Let’s go!”

Bran glanced at the restaurant information Isaiah showed him and asked,

“Why there?”

“I’ve been there before! So…”

“So? What are we supposed to do there?”

“What…?”

Isaiah looked at Bran, a confused expression on his face.