Chapter Text
Jesse steps through the red door, immediately blasted by wind and sound. Desolate scenery zips past as the train rattles along its path. There’s nothing out there but dirt and barren trees with no end in sight, a very different change of pace from the rolling hills of his previous location.
“What the…” The door clicks shut behind him and his gaze is drawn to another red door past a connecting bridge. He doesn’t know where this place is, or how he ended up here… he’s dreaming? His normal dreams don’t usually switch settings like this, but maybe his brain is trying something new. Time to cross the weird narrow bridge?
He looks down over the railing while walking across, briefly watching the giant wheels of the train below. No signs of slowing down or stopping, but he has no idea where the next stop would be in this weird empty place.
He heads to the next door without incident, spinning the handle until it swings open. Beyond the threshold is… nothing? Or not exactly nothing. White mist curls slowly towards him, obscuring all hope of seeing what’s actually through the door. He breathes in the scent of humidity, pine trees, and–is that coffee? Jesse boldly goes into the great beyond, the dooring closing behind him. He glances back at the subsequent jingle to see a small bell attached to the top of it, like he just entered a shop.
Another couple steps forward nearly gives him a face full of pine needles, a few more beyond it he finds an occupied wooden table and some chairs. Sitting at the far end is a large beaver in a yellow beanie with a laptop and a steaming cup of coffee. They glance at him before nodding their head to the left. “Counter’s that way,” they say gruffly before going back to typing.
Jesse nods and starts walking in the indicated direction, only bumping into a chair once before the counter comes into view. There’s a display case for a variety of pastries on one side and an old-timey looking cash register beside it. On the wall behind the counter is a chalkboard menu with all the options written in large letters.
As he peruses the croissant options, a black bear in a red shirt comes into view behind the register. The name tag reads Albert.
“Welcome to Foggy Forest Coffee Shop! Sorry about all the… fog and such. We just opened but the machine is already on the fritz.” The bear looks at him expectantly for his order, meanwhile Jesse is adjusting his world view to account for a place where a bear can both talk and make a cappuccino.
“Oh! Uh– I think uh… Mocha latte? Please? And a croissant?” Jesse stutters out.
“Coming right up!” Albert replies. “Hey Jack, can you help with the customer?”
A slightly smaller bear walks out of the fog. “Sure! One croissant, right?” Jack waits for Jesse’s nod before he takes one out of the pastry case and pops it in a toaster oven.
“So… you said you just opened this place?” Jesse asks. He hadn’t realized that bears opening a coffee shop was something in the realm of possibility, his subconscious is really running wild with whatever this is.
“Yeah, just last week,” Albert says. “It’s always been the family dream to have a spot of our own. I’m glad my brother’s here to help, he makes the best pastries on this side of the mountain.” He speaks with clear pride in their accomplishments.
“We’ve never been to the other side of the mountain, so their pastries could be a lot better,” Jack points out.
“You’re too humble, these croissants are perfect,” Albert says. He pumps mocha syrup into the coffee cup and gives it a stir. “Did you want any whipped cream?”
“Whipped cream is cool,” Jesse nods. “And I’m digging this whole fog thing, it really adds a sense of mystery and intrigue.”
“Thank you!” Albert smiles. “I don’t usually reveal all the secrets, but we hid a bunch of cool stuff in here. You should wander around a bit, the foggy forest is bigger than it seems.” He places the completed mocha latte on the counter in front of him, followed by Jack handing him a deliciously warm croissant.
“Well, consider my interest piqued.” He takes the coffee and the croissant, then remembers that things tend to cost money. “Uh, how much do I owe you?” Jesse digs around in his pockets for some cash but comes up with some lint and a gum wrapper.
“On the house, consider it a new visitor special,” Albert waves away his worries. “Just make sure to tell your friends about us. It’ll be good for business.”
“In that case–thank you! This whole thing is really nice, I’ll totally get the word out,” he promises.
Jesse turns to go wander through the unknown, alternating between bites of croissant and sips of coffee. The paper cup is warm against the glowing number on his palm. He passes by the beaver with the laptop again, then gets turned around by a few more trees before he finds a wall.
Upon the wall is a fish mounted to a plaque that states “D.B. Cooper”, it’s one of those novelty things with a button on it to make it sing. He presses the button, it’s what everyone has to do when they see something like this.
“You thought I had a little song didn’t ya? Wrong! Who do you think you are, just pressing any button that you see? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day. What if I was taking a nap?” The fish speaks in an aggressive New York accent.
Jesse takes a step back in surprise. “Shit! Ah- sorry!” He almost trips backwards.
“Wait, wait a second. Come closer, I have a question for ya. It’s important. I gotta whisper it in your ear.”
He squints at the fish, then steps forward until his ear is a few inches away from its mouth. He waits curiously.
“Why are you here?”
Jesse frowns. “I don’t know, I just woke up here? What’s with the philosophical question?”
The fish doesn’t speak back. He presses the button again, but there’s no other movement.
“Hello?” Jesse waves his hand in front of the fish. “Well… Thanks for dropping that little bit of existentialism on me.” He pokes at the button one more time before deciding that the fish has completed its job. Back to wandering and sipping coffee.
Why is he here? His brain can’t help but pull at the thread. Being on some kind of interdimensional train isn’t something that happens to people. He still can’t quite decide if this whole thing is real or a dream. If he doesn’t wake up soon, then he can start interrogating reality.
Out of the corner of his eye he spots a red haze. Another of those funky doors maybe? He takes a few steps closer and the familiar silhouette comes into view. That was easy enough. He finishes off the last bite of carby goodness and gives the door handle a test push. The golden handle spins around and opens it up in one motion. Should he say bye to the bears? If he finds the counter again, it could take forever to get back to this spot… It seems like he has to leave them behind.