text: I stared at him. He was wearing the blue sweater I had gotten him for his birthday. He had a scratch on his jaw from shaving, but other than that he was whole. He was standing in line at his favorite bagel shop. Ordering a regular coffee. I was nudged by my handler. Right. I didn’t have forever. Less than fifteen minutes now. God. I crossed the street to intercept him. Made sure to look both ways. I felt my eyes start to water. I’m surprised I wasn’t already bawling. He was leaving the store as I approached him. “...G-George?” I croaked. There were the tears. I’m sure I looked like a mess. His face showed confusion. Of course he didn’t recognize me. My handler stepped up then and began to explain everything in a whisper to George. An envelope was passed between the pair, I assume it was the proof. Then we started walking at the ushering of my handler. George was staring at me now. I could tell he was confused, and, hell, I would be too in his shoes. “I really don’t have time to explain anything. I wish I did. I wish I had more time, George, I really do,” I grabbed onto his arm as my handler trundled us along down the street. George still clearly didn’t know what was going on, but I continued, “I just had to let you know that I love you. And I will never forget you. And I’m sorry about all the stuff that I said and did that was just dumb and mean. I didn’t even mean half of it and the other half I didn’t mean for it to hurt you. I was an idiot; I’m still an idiot.” I looked into George’s eyes. God I had forgotten how blue his eyes were. And there was the shaving cream in his ear that always ended up there. How did I forget the colour of his eyes, the sound of his voice, his smell, but I didn’t forget that goddamn shaving cream. I looked. And there was that big, black, hair in the middle of his forehead. I remember warning him that he’d get a unibrow. “I’m doing good now. I hope you’d be proud. I’m not a lawyer. I learned more about your family, met up with your brother a few times. I traveled the world too. Saw Africa and went on that trip to Europe we talked about. Five countries in ten days. I did go back and stay for longer on another trip, but I wanted to do the trip that we had planned. I lived in Japan and South Korea before I moved to Washington. Seattle. I heard from your brother that’s where your family lived before you moved down here.” I think he was starting to believe me. I knew a lot. Too much to be a fake. And who would fake this? Still he was always a logical man, and this didn’t make sense. Not in his universe. He still had the coffee in his hands. He had to have those. I looked at where we were. The corner of Glennerson and Travis. Too close. I looked back at my handler, but he had sunglasses covering guarded, grey eyes. I’d find no sympathy there. I felt something land on my head. The mist that had enveloped the city was hardening into a full out rain. Of course it would. But it was happening too soon. Too goddamn soon. I had to keep going. I still had so much I wanted to say. “I-I’m really sorry about what I did. It was my fault. It will always be my fault. You don’t know what I’m talking about, but I’m really sorry.” It was getting hard to see. I hadn’t cried so much in years. “Carrie is doing well. She’s happy. She’s married. She’s going to be a mom soon. She lives on the east coast now; I don’t talk to her much but I try. She’s one of the last links to you that I have.” The rain was starting to get more consistent and heavier. We didn’t have an umbrella; my handler wouldn’t allow it. “I speak to James even less. We found it hard to talk after you. Imagine that. He graduated. I know it was touch and go there for a while but he came through. He’s still living around here.” We were getting onto numbered streets now. There wasn’t enough time. Why couldn’t I have had more time? “We found an ID from when you were in college. You had some long hair. And we found you with a moustache. I heard from one of your friends that you were into rock. I wish you could tell me about that. I wish that I knew about your childhood and the rest of your life.” 7th Street. My handler had us turn onto it. Now it was just a few more blocks. Maybe five more minutes. I just stared at him. He had stubble. Streaks of grey at his temple. Wrinkles around his eyes. His nose. I had forgotten his nose. It wasn’t anything special, but I had forgotten what it looked like. And he was still so much taller than me. I thought that one day he wouldn’t be, but I guess it would never happen. We never stopped walking. My handler wouldn’t let us miss the deadline. K Street. I looked at the time. It was close. I was sobbing now. Hiccups and everything. I hugged him. He was soft and warm. I missed this. So much. I missed him. My handler pulled us apart. George’s phone started ringing. He looked down as he answered it and my handler pushed him into the street. Into where he was destined to be. I felt my knees go weak. That hadn’t happened in over twenty years. I hadn’t finished. I still wanted to talk to him. To hug him. I hadn’t got to hear his voice. A car came as he was falling into the street. Their headlights weren’t on and the rain was battering down on their car. They were going way too fast. I saw them see George in the street, but their car started to hydroplane as they slammed on the brakes. I saw him hit, fly through the air, and land on the road. He was bleeding from a wound on his head. Spilt coffee mixed with his blood. His phone went farther than him. He had never answered it. I remember being angry when he didn’t answer my phone call. I remember not learning about what had happened to him. It had been hours later when someone told me. I remember no one told me what was happening as we drove to the hospital. I remember the first time my knees had gone weak, I was standing in the doorway to the hospital and being told why I was there. But I don’t remember his voice. Why can’t I remember his voice? My handler grabbed my shoulder and pressed a button he was holding in his other hand. The bracelet on my wrist began to vibrate as it did it’s work. It was five minutes before I was back in the all white chamber. I was twenty three years away from that moment. And that’s all I would have. A fifteen minute walk from George’s favorite coffee shop to the corner of 7th and K. The last conversation I would ever have with him. The last hug. The last time I would see him, the last time I would smell him. It would have to last for the rest of my life. It already wasn’t enough.