A Witch's Guide to a Good Brew

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A Witch's Guide to a Good Brew Page 2

by Jose Rodriguez-Copeland


  That comment shook me. How could that possibly be the case? I know Tessa had special circumstances, but not to this extent. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

  “Why is that?”

  “You ask too many questions,” he said. “Just help Tessa and make sure the business stays in the black. Got it?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Good.”

  He hung up, leaving me to stare at Tessa. Her wavy brown locks ruffled in front of her face, tickling her nose.

  “I hope I’m not imposing,” she said with a shy smile.

  “You’re not,” I said. “C’mon, let’s go back. We can heat up sandwiches for lunch.”

  We re-emerged to find Elise struggling under the weight of customer orders.

  “What the hell were you guys doing?!”

  “Sorry,” we both said, putting our aprons back on.

  We closed our doors at 8PM and spent the next half-hour sweeping the floors and accounting for the money on the cash register.

  “Thanks for all the help today,” I said.

  “It’s my pleasure,” said Tessa, wiping sweat off her brow.

  I locked the front doors and made sure the security system was turned on.

  “See you tomorrow then,” I said.

  “Um…”

  “What is—oh right. You don’t have a place. You can stay with me.”

  I had forgotten all about the arrangement. The alternative would be to pay a hotel stay for her or leave her out on the street.

  “I can!? I mean, you wouldn’t mind, right?”

  The girl’s smile could melt even the most rigid of stone hearts. Were all witches this cute?

  “Of course,” I said. “Fair warning, though. It’s not very glamorous.”

  “Anything is fine!”

  My apartment was eight blocks away from Twisted Cauldron. We transitioned from the ritzy merchant streets to the half-dilapidated apartment complexes. A nightclub sat across the street from my apartment, its line extending into the sidewalk.

  “You live in the heart of the city? Must be very exciting,” said Tessa with a starry-eyed expression.

  “Not really,” I said. “I don’t go out much.”

  “Hmm… we will have to change that,” said Tessa.

  “Why is that?” I said, going up the stairs. Each step reverberated in the cramped corridor.

  “Because I wish to learn as much as I can about the city.”

  “I’ll try my best,” I said. “We can do something in the weekend.”

  “I would very much like that.”

  We stopped at the sixth floor.

  “Welcome home,” I said with a bow.

  The smell of the fried omelette I made in the morning lingered inside my apartment. Past the kitchen counter was a sofa, its leather cushions several degrees past well-worn. Next to it was my bed and a heap of dirty laundry.

  Most men would be nervous to welcome a guest without warning, but I didn’t have anything to hide. I also didn’t know what size of house Tessa was accustomed to from her time in the Maryland witch colony.

  Witch colony in Maryland. If you had asked me this morning whether I thought Magic was real, I would have replied with a flat “No.” But the proof was undeniable. Witches who could use magic lived, and they looked just like regular humans.

  Tessa plopped her backpack on the kitchen counter and took out a family-sized chocolate bar.

  “It’s not much, but it’s home,” I said. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  “It’s amazing! So comfy and personal! Just like in those picture books I read about New York,” she said.

  Children dream of witches. It only makes sense for witches to have picture books of exotic places, even New York.

  “You could say that,” I said. “Only my rent is half the price.”

  “May I take the sofa?” said Tessa.

  “You can take the bed. I’ll take the sofa.”

  “I couldn’t impose like that,” said Tessa. She positioned herself so that our faces were inches apart.

  “I’m your guest.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “And my job is to get you acclimated to life here, right? You need a bed for that.”

  “Why would I need a bed for that?”

  She got me there.

  “You, uh… you have to believe me,” I said.

  “Hmph. Very well then. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

  After exchanging a few pleasantries, Tessa retreated to the bathroom to change. She emerged wearing a matching purple pajama button-up and bottoms set, adorned with orange pumpkins.

  “So witches and pumpkins are a thing?” I said, trying to peel my eyes away from her gettup.

  “They are in some circles,” she said. “Plus they’re good conduits for when we’re doing the sacrificial rituals.”

  “Sacrificial rituals? Just what are you sacrificing?” I said.

  “You should’ve seen the look on your face,” said Tessa, erupting into a fit of laughter.

  “Says the girl who fell down like six times today. Did the air trip you up? Must be a witch thing.”

  “There’s so much for you to learn,” she said as she got under the bed covers. “Some of the things we can do can blow your mind.”

  I wasn’t sure if she meant that literally or not. Best not to ask.

  “Yeah, well wait until you hear about reality television. That would really blow your mind.”

  I waited for a snappy retort, but one never came. I glanced over the sofa and found Tessa asleep. Her face looked at peace. We’ve known each other for less than a day and she has no problems falling asleep a few feet away. I turned off the lights and went to bed.

  There was so much I wanted to learn about Tessa’s world. Did they have their own clothing retailers, or do they have some sort of secret contract with a company? Were broomsticks popular modes of transport? Why was she sent here?

  The last question was the most important to me. I owed my uncle a lot, and even doing him a favor as big as this one wouldn’t be enough. That didn’t change the fact that I still knew nothing. How long would it take Tessa to acclimate to life outside her witch colony? Once that was complete, then what?

  I tried to dispel those thoughts. Knowing my uncle, I wouldn’t be getting any answers soon. My best course of action was to help Tessa. Maybe I’ll find answers along the way.

  Chapter 2

  My alarm woke me up at 5AM. I rushed to shut it off, cautious not to wake up Tessa in the process. I looked over and saw that her eyes were shut, and her brown hair was spread out, as if some invisible force was determined to give her the worst hairstyle possible. All was well.

  After changing, I turned the stove on and whisked some eggs. It occurred to me that I had no idea what kind of food Tessa would eat. She didn’t protest when I handed her the meat sandwiches yesterday, so I at least know that she’s not vegetarian. But still, for a girl who looks so excited with just about everything, she shared little with me. I would try to change that today.

  At 6AM, I tried to wake her.

  “Hello? Tessa? Hellooooooo?” I said.

  “Mhm.”

  “Tessa? Breakfast’s ready. We have to go soon.”

  No response.

  I tried to shake her awake. My feet lifted off the ground.

  “Wh-What’s going on? Tessa?”

  The same white hue that surrounded the coffee beans yesterday now surrounded me. When I levitated a foot off the ground, I was pushed back. The witch then dropped me in the kitchen, ten feet from where I started.

  “I’ll let you sleep a few more minutes, then,” I said. The magic didn’t hurt, but it felt bizarre not to be in control of my actions. Like a witch’s puppet. I just hope there were no long-term side effects.

  The witch, possibly lured by the smell, woke up ten minutes later. The first thing she did was grab the pointy hat at the foot of her bed and put it on. She navigated the room without opening her eyes, then plopped down
on a seat in the kitchen counter.

  “I’m hungry,” she said, stretching her arms as far as they could go. “And tired.”

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “Eggs and bacon good with you?”

  “Yes, please,” said Tessa. I put both plates down and sat next to her.

  “Did you usually wake up early back home?”

  “It depends on who was my mentor. Ever since I was 6, I would go through three months of training with a particular witch. The worst, Minerva, would make me wake up at four-thirty in the morning.”

  “Sounds rough,” I said.

  “Compared to that, working at the Twisted Cauldron is easy!” said Tessa, her mouth half-full with food.

  “Then that just means I have to make you work harder. You haven’t even made coffee yet, after all.”

  “Not funny,” she said. “I’ll do that today.”

  We left the apartment shortly after. The crisp morning air was refreshing. Birds chirped on the trees lining the sidewalk. Life was sweet, but it was somehow sweeter with Tessa next to me.

  “Before I forget,” I said. “I think it’s really cool that you can use magic, but…”

  “Not in front of the customers, right?” said Tessa. “I understand. The witches’ code is very clear on that: no one outside of the witch colony should know about our existence.”

  “It must be hard,” I said. “To live in secret.”

  “It’s not the greatest,” she said, smoothing the edges of her skirt: “I’ll get an earful whenever the council finds out.”

  Tessa helped me wipe the tables while I set up the machines. Our regulars ordered the same thing every morning, meaning that I made nearly the same thing every weekday during the first hour of business.

  “What’s so great about coffee, anyway?” said Tessa. “If it were me, I would just order the sweets.”

  “Learn how to serve a cup before you diss it,” I said. “Come here.”

  I brought Tessa behind the counter. There, I pointed out the espresso machine. Its stainless steel body reflected our features. The top panel included two sets of buttons corresponding to the two spouts beneath it.

  “Press the button with one cup for a single shot of espresso, and the two cup-button for two shots of espresso. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah,” said Tessa. She traced her finger through the panel, leaving a smudge behind. I tried not to let it phase me.

  “Next is the steam,” I said, pointing out the boiler stem at either end. “You use this knob to heat up the milk.”

  It took me five more minutes to finish explaining how the system works.

  “And here’s a quick guide on how to make all the drinks,” I said, giving her a laminated book. It contained instructions on how to do nearly every possible drink a customer could want. “Try to make the drink on page 2.”

  She flipped to the page and looked at me with a deadpan expression.

  “It just says ‘doppio espresso: press the double espresso button’. Is this really what you want me to do?”

  “If it’s so simple then you’ll have no trouble brewing it, right?”

  I watched Tessa put the new coffee grounds in using the machine adjacent to the espresso maker. She put it in the espresso machine and pressed the required button. Out poured the liquid gold, topped with a light-brown frothy crema.

  I took the cup in my hand and brought it to my mouth.

  “Tastes good,” I said.

  “All I did was press was button,” she said.

  “And you did it perfectly. Now, moving on…”

  I taught Tessa how to make the basic non-espresso drinks, like lattes, and espresso drinks, including a cappuccino, macchiato, and mocha. That last one she made by adding two more spoonfuls of chocolate powder then required by the recipe.

  “What do you think?” she said.

  “It’s… sweet,” I said.

  She yanked the porcelain cup from my hand and took a gulp. Tessa made a disgusted face.

  “This isn’t very good,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll keep trying,” I said. A customer walked in, derailing our plans.

  It was Halley, a fitness nut and one of our regulars.

  “Mornin’ Raul,” said the woman.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Halley, this is Tessa, our newest employee. She’ll be taking your order this morning.”

  “I am?” said Tessa. I put my hand on her shoulder and shot her a thumbs-up, before retreating to the end of the counter. No training as good as the real thing, after all.

  “W-what would you like to order today?” said Tessa.

  Halley’s eyes fixed on Tessa’s hat.

  “It’s a new wardrobe we’re trying out. You like it?” I said from my corner. I need to do whatever I can to make Tessa’s life easier.

  “It’s cute,” she said. “I’d like a soy caramel latte with two pumps of caramel, please. But don’t go too hard on the soy. Not too little, not too much, OK?”

  Tessa’s eyes spun. She tried to input the order details into the cash register, but her finger froze midair. I hadn’t taught her everything she needed to know about the payment processing system yet.

  “I’ll handle the payment,” I said. “You work on preparing the latte.”

  “OK,” said Tessa. My intervention did not reduce her anxiety. I saw her grabbing the soy milk carton with one hand and the caramel one with the other, without much of an idea where to start. Tessa realized that she needed to pour the coffee into it at some point too. She walked in a tight, concentric circles as she decided her next course of action.

  “Tessa,” I said, taking a hold of the milk carton. “You can do this. Just read off the manual. There’s no rush.”

  “R-right.”

  Tessa pulled out the laminated book and followed the instructions to the tee. She was slow, but that was understandable. She handed Halley her drink in one of our to-go containers.

  “Please come again,” said Tessa with a smile.

  As soon as Halley left, Tessa found the nearest seat and slumped into it.

  “That was stressful,” she said.

  “It was your first time,” I said. “No one expects you to be perfect.”

  “Except the customer does! If I could use magic I would’ve finished it in a few seconds.”

  “Did you use magic for everything back in your home?”

  “Cooking, cleaning, getting dressed… Almost everything,” said Tessa. “It might take me some time before I can do this properly.”

  I caught sight of three customers walking past one window. They were regular customers who usually had easy orders.

  “There’s more already?” she said, looking to the door just as the three came in. Tessa shot up.

  “You’ll do fine,” I said. “I believe in you.”

  As Tessa greeted them, I went to the back to make myself busy. I emerged a few seconds later carrying the first clipboard I found in the storage room.

  “Come again,” said the witch, waving goodbye to the customers. Her posture was straighter.

  “Seems like you handled that well,” I said, offering a high-five. She took it, the sound of our hands smacking against each other’s ringing true in the empty restaurant.

  “I noticed that most people take our coffee and leave,” said Tessa. “What’s the point of having such nice decorations if the customers aren’t going to stay and enjoy them?”

  She pointed to the Chinese evergreens that rested on the windowsill. Snake plants dotted the way to the bathroom, their pointy sword-shaped leaves an ode to the café’s ominous name. Decorations were sparser than I would like them to be, but in Tessa’s eyes it was more than enough.

  “Interesting point you’re making,” I said. “Everyone enjoys coffee their own way. College students like to sit and soak in the free wi-fi. Businessmen come to pre-screen future interviewees. And some just take their purple cups and go back to work. Italy is the birthplace of espresso culture and there
they have espresso bars where people stand and enjoy a quick cup. Here we like things Seattle-style with plenty of sitting.”

  “Things evolve and change,” said Tessa, her eyes cast down. “Maybe me and coffee have more in common than I thought.”

  That was out of character. The girl cleaned the smudges off her apron. For a minute I stared as she rubbed her fingers along the fabric, her hands never once moving from the apron. Her eyes didn’t move either.

  The ringing of the door chime yanked me back to my senses.

  “A customer,” said Tessa with little emotion. “I’ll take care of it.”

  The customer wore a fine black suit with a red tie. His blond hair was slicked back.

  “I don’t know, Rooney,” said the man as he held his phone to his ear. “I told Martha to send you a copy. Must’ve missed you somehow. Listen, I’m at this coffeeshop by Baker Street. Want anything? No, man, it’s not Starbucks. My ex-wife started workin’ there and I don’t wanna deal with that, that’s why.”

  “Hello, sir,” said Tessa, but she was cut off.

  “Yeah, get me a straight black coffee. Biggest size you have.”

  “That would be two dollars.”

  The man swiped his black credit card. He waited to the side and watched as Tessa poured the drink, keeping an eye on her figure without once cutting the call. When Tessa handed him his cup, he took a sip.

  “This is crap,” he said, creasing his mouth into a frown. “Make another one.”

  Tessa waited a second before taking the cup back.

  “It’s a new cup. I poured it five minutes ago,” she said.

  “Well then, I guess your coffee goes bad pretty fast.”

  Tessa poured out the old cup and prepared a new one. I watched as the man inched away from the counter until he was out of earshot of the witch.

  “Yeah, I’ll get those files to you by 9AM. Listen, man. This café has a barista with a smokin’ hot bod. Has a weird hat, though. What? Of course, I’d tap that. When have you ever not wanted to do a girl just because of her hat? C’mon, Rooney.”

  As I watched this play out, I balled my fists. I took the to-go cup that Tessa prepared and shoved it in his face.

  “Take it and leave,” I said to him.

  “What the eff, man?”

 

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