You Forgot 'What If?' (Solarpunk Protopia Fiction)

Part 2: Good Morning

Inside, I stepped down the hall and towards the kitchen, where Julio was cooking at the kitchen island. He wore a mustard-yellow apron over his hairy chest as he mixed something in a large, cast-iron skillet with a wooden spoon.

"Morning," he greeted as he shuffled the pan.

"Morning. Whatcha cooking?" Grabbing a glass from a sleek, black cabinet, I poured a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the island, not far from Julio's steaming pan. Mint leaves and lemon peels floated in the crystal-clear water with ice cubes. "Did you get ice this morning already?"

"You know it, babe. And it's bean-scramble."

"You're amazing, Julio." I topped off the glass next to him, too.

A wry smile turned his lips, and his deep, brown eyes met mine from underneath this thick, black brow. "Are you just saying that because you want bean-scramble?"

Circling around the island, I wrapped my arms around his big belly and laid my head against his back. "You are amazing. And I want bean-scramble."

A laugh shook his torso. "Well, I made extra. You wanna make some toast?"

"Absolutely." Turning towards the counter, I noticed a thick, crusty brown loaf already on the cutting board. Mona, Julio, me, or anyone in our little family could go to the kitchen on our floor, or other floors, or one of a dozen little cafes around The Sink community, but our family liked quiet breakfasts. Our kitchen was small and simple, but more than enough for a bean-scramble and toast.

Slicing the thick loaf and putting the two hearty slices in the toaster oven overhead, I stepped behind Julio and bumped his bottom with mine as I went to our corner pantry. Throwing a grin over his shoulder, he bumped me back.

"Oh, we still have jam!" A few floors up, Camellia Kim grew dozens of different berries, citrus fruits, and peppers on her balcony and in her apartment. She made juices, candy, pies, tarts, spice mixes, and more, and hardly let a bit go to the compost bin. The jam she'd made with the leftover gooseberries, lemon rinds, and a particular type of pepper was my absolute favorite. I grabbed the jar of golden jam. "You want the good jam, Julio?"

"Nah, you know me. I don't mix sweet and savory," He answered. "Can you grab two plates?"

Taking two wood plates, smelling faintly of pine, out of a small cupboard, the toast popped up. Grabbing the thick, warm slices and juggling the jam with the plates, I set them down next to Julio. He carefully spooned out the green-yellow scramble for each of us, and left a steaming, heaping helping still in the skillet for the others still sleeping. As he set the skillet back down and turned off the stove, he laid a hand on my shoulder and kissed my forehead three times, as he often did; it always felt like something between an inside joke and a special blessing.

Made from our tower's famous beans, as well as a combination of softer ingredients and spices, the smell of Julio's bean-scramble wafted up to my nose in peppery, roasted, buttery waves, just over the smell of toasted bread. There were two more smells through the small, fragrant kitchen; one I knew as Julio's warm, vetiver and cinnamon perfume, and another that was sweet like brown sugar and earthy like a newly planted garden. The smell intensified as Julio turned with two pine mugs and a metal kettle, and poured a dark brown, steaming liquid for each of us.

As he poured the drink and placed the kettle on the stove, I took in the fragrant steam off the top of my mug.

"This smells so good," I said as I helped Julio bring the plates and mugs to the kitchen table by the window. "Is this a new mix?"

"Rehka really nailed it this time." Raising the steaming mug to his bearded lips, Julio took a deep breath, then a small sip, and smiled, bliss on his face. "Oh, it's so good."

I followed his lead, taking in the earthy, slightly sweet, smell, then took a sip. The rich flavors of mushroom and pepper mixed with brown sugar and a bitter, almost charcoal-like bite. A soft moan escaped my throat, and Julio chuckled.

"Right?" he agreed, taking another sip.

"She's a mad scientist." Just before I took another sip, I remembered. "Oh, did you stay over at her place the other night?"

Julio smiled, his face lighting up with the excitement of new romance. "Yeah. It was great. We watched old Bollywood movies and talked about mushrooms and... she's so great."

My heart lifted. "That's awesome!" Julio was a kind, soft-spoken plant nerd with hugs like a giant teddy bear and love so wide and deep, falling in was effortless. Rehka was an energetic, excitable, mushroom nerd with so much love of life, it was impossible to resist catching her enthusiasm. They both seemed to light up around each other, and I'd been hoping for a while that they'd get closer. "Rehka is so cool, so fun--I'm so happy for you. Do you think she'll come over sometime? I can get that good botanical liquor and we can--"

Julio raised a hand. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

I nodded, trying to hold in my excitement. "Right, right, of course. Just sayin'."

Piling bean-scramble on his bread, he glanced up. "Are you meeting that reporter today? What's his name? Sinclair?"

"Yeah, totally. I'm gonna take him all over, show him the gardens, the rooftop, the solar panels, the robots, all of it." I spread jam on my toast and took a bite, closing my eyes as mixes of zesty, creamy, spicy, and sweet hit my tongue.

"Is that a thing?" Julio asked.

Even with my eyes closed, I caught his meaning by his tone, and scoffed. "Oh, god no. He's painfully straight and he thinks The Sink is a cult."

"Oh." Julio's brow furrowed. "And why do you want to meet up with him?"

I shrugged. "It's my job, I guess. But also I just love The Sink and I want to show it to him."

Julio smiled, a bit ruefully. "I know you do. And it's really sweet. But," he winced "he might not like it as much as you do. Is that gonna be okay?"

Julio was so considerate, and he knew me so well. He knew that Sinclair's biting articles about The Sink hurt my feelings. Julio might've known my hurt before I even did; after I read those articles, I could only express frustration. But, the truth was, I loved The Sink; I loved how much brilliance there was in these towers, how much empathy and love and support there was, how much beauty and community and creativity there was. And Sinclair calling our towers a cult hurt. Once I reckoned with that though, the sting healed, and I was ready to meet Sinclair now.

"I think so," I answered, gazing into Julio's gentle brown eyes and thinking of how much I loved him. "Not everyone gets it, and I can accept that. But I'm excited to show him. What we have is pretty amazing, whether he appreciates it or not."

Julio nodded. "Good. You might know these towers better than anyone--he's got a helluva tour guide. I hope you have fun."

I gave a grimacing smile. "We'll see."

"It's such a nice day, do you want to eat on the balcony?" Julio asked, nodding to the tall, glass windows looking out over our vegetable garden and the large expanse of healed forest.

"I'd love that." We both brought our cups and plates outside, and enjoyed breakfast surrounded by blooms, new vegetables, herbs and grasses. Bees and butterflies hopped between the white and yellow leaves and petals before moving up or down Bean Tower to the gardens of our neighbors, friends, family, and lovers.

....