The Lost Cafe, Bungendore

Parking the Ambulance nearby, John Marr and Noelani Williams walked into the cafe and sat at a table.

John asked, "What can I get you?"

"I'll have my usual. No, wait. I need something stronger. I'll get a marshmallow in it."

With a laugh, John went up to the counter and order his double espresso, plus a large hot chocolate with marshmallows for Noelani. He got a lamington, with fresh cream and jam for himself, and a couple of coconut macaroons for Noelani. He grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them from the water dispenser and returned to the table.

"So, you're a shifter?"

John drank the glass of water and said, "Yep."

"But I've worked with you over the full moon. You didn't get hairy on me once. I think I would have noticed."

John laughed, then held his hand up while their drinks were delivered. "Thanks, Maurina. You heard?"

Maurina looked at John strangely, then nodded.

"We've just come from my first official shifter callout. A gunshot injury."

"Damn, hunters?"

"No, they were shot in their non-shifter form. During the treatment, they shifted once the bullet was out. This was Noelani's first exposure to the paranormal. With the big reveal coming soon, I'm giving her 'the talk'."

Something seen to go between Maurina and John, then Maurina nodded and turned to Noelani.

"Then welcome to the strange side of town, Noelani. I'm a shifter as well. Unlike my fine feathered friend here, my shifted animal is a rock wallaby. Enjoy the drinks."

"So, is this some shifter den of iniquity? Is that why you like the place?"

Stolen story; please report.

"Not really, but they do make the coffee strong."

"So, is this talk going to be anything like the one my brother gave me before I went on my first date?"

Chocking slightly on the sip of coffee he’d just taken, John recovered and said, "Jeez, I hope not.”

He gathered himself for a moment, then continued, “About one in every couple of hundred people in Australia is a shifter. Wait, that’s misleading. By numbers, it’s true, but the shifter communities are…concentrated., in some communities, virtually everyone is a shifter, while there may be none in other towns. Our animal seems to be set by the country of our birth, so the only wolves in Australia are people who are born in an area where the wolf is, or at least use to be. We can change whenever we want, and as you saw, changing grants us some healing. We also tend to be fairly immune to disease and have a bit longer life expectancy."

"How long?"

"Two to three times."

"OK, where do I sign up."

John laughed. "Not that simple, not that glamorous. Firstly, it would mean leaving behind everyone else. It's hard to watch your family and friends age as you don't."

"Well, that's not a problem."

"Aren't you living with your partner?"

"Was."

"Was?"

"He threw me out two nights ago."

"Where are you staying?"

"In my car."

"Noelani, you should have said something. For the moment you're living with me. I've got spare rooms, so it's fine."

"I couldn't."

"Yes, yes you can. We'll go over next day-off and pick up all the rest of your gear from your old place. Here’s a spare key, I'll expect to see you after our shift."

"Is this a shifter things?"

Maurina said from behind her, "Yes, it is. We nearly all have a very strong sense of community."

Noelani was startled. She hadn't heard Maurina approach.

Noelani looked at Maurina and made an assumption. "So, better hearing is part of the shifter package?"

"Better senses all around. So, working with John will mean that he will feel you are part of his... chatter, isn't it, John?"

"Chatter?"

"Yes, the name of a group of his shifted animal."

"What animal is he?"

"He hasn't said? Well, it's considered uncouth to say, so I'll leave it to him to tell you." She walked away with a grin on her face.

"So, John, what are you?"

"A bird."

Noelani could see the grin splitting Maurina's face from the corner of her eye. She realised there had to be something else happening here.

"Oh, so what kind of bird?"

With obvious hesitation, John finally said, "A budgie."

"A budgerigar? You?"

She tried to hold it in, but the laugh escaped after a moment. It was just so incongruent. John was over two metres tall, very muscular, fit, long black hair, bright blue eyes and a mid-brown skin colour. The image that her mind overlayed him with, a small, brightly coloured and noisy bird, weighing maybe 50 grams (an ounce and a half) if wet, just didn't make sense.

For the rest of their shift, every time she looked at him, at least a smile escaped, if not a laugh.

Tonight, she’d pick up some bird treats to randomly leave on his seat in the Ambulance. Maybe a set of budgie smugglers for him as well. She blushed.