Chapter 1
Lost Property
Sasha opened the coffee stand at 6:00 every morning.
Opening took eleven minutes.
It used to take nine.
Sasha had gotten larger.
The coffee stand had not.
The old delivery van had been converted into a coffee kiosk long before Sasha became responsible for it. At four hundred pounds, he could no longer stand upright inside. The first few years had produced an unacceptable number of damaged shelves, broken cups and one permanently bent overhead storage rack.
Sasha had solved the problem.
He stopped standing.
Every morning he crawled through the side door, dropped to his knees behind the service window and stayed there.
From that position everything important was within reach.
Coffee grinder to the left.
Zine brewer to the right.
Steam unit behind him.
Pastries below.
Customers in front.
Turn left.
Turn right.
Coffee.
It was efficient.
At 6:17, Sasha's first customer arrived.
A woman approached the window with a little girl beside her.
“Coffee,” the woman said.
Sasha turned right.
“Configuration?”
“Whatever has the most caffeine.”
Sasha paused.
“Maximum legal or maximum available?”
The woman looked at him.
“Legal.”
Sasha began preparing the drink.
The girl put both hands on the counter and stared at the cookies behind the glass.
Sasha noticed.
“Cookie?”
She nodded.
Her mother said, “One.”
Sasha retrieved one.
The girl accepted it with one hand.
Something hung beneath her other arm.
Sasha looked at it.
Small.
Gray.
Four appendages.
Two long structures extending from its head, although one leaned considerably farther than the other.
“What is that?”
The girl lifted it onto the counter.
“Hopper.”
Sasha waited.
The girl waited.
“Hopper,” Sasha repeated.
“That's his name.”
Sasha examined Hopper.
“What is Hopper?”
“A bunny.”
Sasha searched his local records.
“I have never seen a bunny.”
The girl smiled.
“Well, now you have.”
Sasha looked at Hopper again.
“I will record my first bunny encounter as Hopper.”
The girl's mother stopped drinking her coffee.
The girl giggled.
Sasha considered the cookie.
“Does Hopper also eat cookies?”
“No, silly. He's just a toy.”
Sasha looked at Hopper.
Then at the girl.
Then at Hopper again.
“A bunny can be a toy?”
“This one is.”
Sasha processed that.
The distinction did not improve.
The woman took her daughter's hand.
“Come on. We're going to be late.”
The girl grabbed Hopper.
“Bye, Sasha.”
“Goodbye.”
She waved Hopper's remaining good ear at him.
Sasha raised one hand.
“Goodbye, Hopper.”
They disappeared into the morning traffic.
Sasha turned left.
Someone wanted coffee.