First, in writing this on mobile, second, I’m not gonna be able to match the story above. But people keep saying thy want more and I’m bored so I figure I’ll try to add some to it. Maybe it will at least slightly satisfy your cravings for more Samantha.
If you were able to see my emotions the day after the deal, you might be able to pick out a few different hues; excitement, anticipation, worry; but overall it just seemed like when you mix together too many colors of paint. It just becomes a meaningless mess of brown. Part of the problem was also that I was helplessly tired that day; who could sleep after getting that kind of news?
That day was the first day in decades that Lawrence didn’t show up at the shop. Throughout the day, I went through cycles of doubting myself, wondering if I did something wrong, to feeling I had been tricked, and cursing Lawrence’s name, to eventually an odd feeling of contentness. Somehow I knew that Lawrence would go through with the deal. I knew that he wasn’t lying when he said he could make it happen.
I stayed late cleaning up that night, in case Lawrence came. Just as I was about to leave, about to give up hope and wonder how I could have been such a fool, a motorcycle pulls up. Or maybe touches down is a better way of phrasing it.
I was used to seeing the motorcycle. It wasn’t a aggressive gang chopper type of motorcycle; that wasn’t Lawrence’s style. It had more of a vintage feel. It was dirty, and beat up, but in a way that just added to the feel of it.
Some movies or tv shows might portray devils zooming down from the sky on motorcycles made of bones with flames trailing behind them, but this wasn’t how Lawrence descended from the barely visible translucent oval of a portal in the sky, lightly glowing baby blue. Lawrence was graceful, slowly floating down to the parking spot that was practically reserved for him at this point.
I was slightly in shock; at the time I hadn’t seen any of this before. I was still ignorant enough to believe magic didn’t exist. But I had begun to open my mind. After all, finding out you had been serving coffee to an immortal being for 20 years wasn’t really an every day occurrence.
Lawrence looked worn out. Most days when he came in to get his afternoon coffee, he looked like he had a long day, but when he got off his motorcycle that day, there was more to it. He looked about ready to collapse right there in the parking lot. I quickly ushered him inside and made him a large Cafezinho, a kind of Brazilian coffee. I would have taken it off the menu long ago if it was not for Lawrence. He was the only one who ordered them.
When I came back with the coffee, he was sitting in his usual booth, in the back corner of the shop. He took a huge sip of the coffee, which was much too strong for most people (but as I had learned, he wasn’t most people), before beginning to speak.
“You know Samantha, I wouldn’t put in this kind of effort for just any old barista who opened some hole in the wall coffee shop with the money her parents wanted her to use for college. Oh no, your coffee is special. Your coffee has something that a of the other lack. Your coffee has soul. I could just snap and I would have myself a big cup of coffee that never ran empty, that had the perfect amount of sugar, made just how I like it, but it wouldn’t be the same as these cups of liquid happiness that you bring out every day. Us immortal beings, gods, higher powers, however you refer to us, we don’t feel emotions like humans. Sure, we understand what they are and how they work, but we don’t feel them the same way as you. But you Samantha, you have found a way to take a bit of what make you human, a bit of your soul, and infuse it into these cups of coffee. Every wonderful sip from these cups is what makes me want to get up every morning; they are what make me want to keep living. Not that I have a choice anyways.” He chuckled slightly, took another big sip of his coffee, and sighed happily before continuing. “This Samantha; this here is why I travelled all across the 6 realms for weeks trying to find someone who would grant our wish. It might’ve only been a day or two for you, but time works differently in different places. I fought, bribed, and sweet talked until I found the right person. I had almost given up when I found the one. I had tried everything; I even sucked off a devil. That is the worst thing I have ever done in my entire 6,000 year long life. Nothing worked. I finally arrived at a certain place in heaven. A certain place that I vowed to myself not to go. In order to find someone willing, and someone powerful enough to grant you immortality, I had to go straight to the most powerful of the all. Straight to gods throne itself. I arrived at his palace almost defeated. It is a giant, and beautiful, yet imposing building made of the most wonderful marble. I would’ve walked straight into the throne room was his secretary not there. She asked me where I am going, and I told her my wish. Maybe it was the determined and yet beaten look in my eye. Maybe it was the purpose in my tentative steps. Maybe she was just a wonderful person. She pulled me into a side hallway with no one in it, and told me ‘I am not supposed to do his, but you seem to need it. You seem like have gone through enough suffering to deserve it.’ She did what I asked in a quick snap of her fingers, and then bid me farewell. And so Samantha, you have finally been repaid for your efforts. You are now one of us.” And with that final note, he fell asleep, right there on the table, even after all of that caffeine.
I sat there for a couple of hours at least, tying to process all he said, trying to see if I feel any different. What really got me was how hauntingly similar the ending of his story was to what he said to me last night, and how different they were at the same time.