Blend 8

“Hachi, have you thought about your death?” Clara asked.

“Why? Is this because of your diagnosis?”

“Maybe. I guess I have been thinking a lot more about it recently.”

“Well, I don’t really think about it. I don’t see the point in dwelling on thoughts about the inevitable. I live in the now. I may as well live for all the pleasure I can get while I can,” Hachi responded.

“Are you talking about coffee?”

“What else would I be talking about?”

“So you aren’t thinking about death because you are pleasuring yourself with coffee.”

… There was an awkward silence.

“Clara.”

“Yes Hachi?”

“Never frame it in that way ever again.”

Before Clara could add some witty retort, the bell rang, and the door swung open. A man dressed in a black priest's frock entered the store. He slowly approached the counter and looked up at the chalk-drawn drinks menu.

“Welcome to 8-Blends. What can we get for you today?” Clara asked.

“Let me see. Would I be able to get a long black one? Thanks,” he replied.

“Certainly. Do you intend to have it here or want it to be a takeaway?”

“Would I be able to have it here? Thank you.”

“You may absolutely; please take a seat wherever you feel comfortable,” Clara instructed.

Ah, the strong taste of a long black. It is beneficial for those who are firmly convinced in their beliefs. Or those trying to hide something behind the strength of the blend. Which would this priest be? Perhaps he would be both. Hachi liked to think he was both; he cared about coffee, but the man also kept plenty of secrets, notably the fact that his death was quickly approaching.

Hachi began preparing the long black while Clara prepared the water for him.

“What’s a day in the life of a priest like?” Hachi asked, trying to make small talk as he put the final touches on the strong, long black.

He looked at Hachi with a dead expression—the kind of expression someone has when they have seen some things in their life.

“Busy. So very busy.” The priest said, his dead expression not changing.

“I guess I never really thought much about the work that goes into preparing for the week,” Clara chimed in as she set the bottle of water down.

“Well, I don’t mean to say we weren’t busy beforehand, but with ADV, we have seen a significant uptick in confessions, wavering fate, conversions and shotgun weddings.”

“Have you considered getting married, Hachi?” Clara interjected to ask.

Hachi set the coffee down on the table.

“To whom?”

“To coffee?”

Hachi paused to think. Would he propose to coffee? But if he got married to one set of beans, that would mean others couldn’t enjoy them. Hachi liked that they could be drunk around. Also, how could he choose between the types? But then again, it was tempting.

Hachi turned to look the priest dead in the eyes.

“Do you offer that service?” Hachi asked seriously.

“Unfortunately, we only wed humans.”

Hachi felt devastated. It was almost as if he had been in a marriage, and they just filed for divorce. It was somewhat painful. Hachi gripped his chest in pain, the pain of heartbreak.

“There, there, Hachi,” Clara patted his back to try and comfort him.

“Well, I guess I had better leave half my assets to coffee beans,” Hachi sighed. He pulled out a notebook from his apron pocket and scribbled this down.

“Hachi don’t,” Clara begged. Although she was guessing he was just adding to the bit, she also had some serious concerns that he might have actually been serious and was going to give away half his assets to coffee.

The priest let out a laugh.

“I apologise. I always like to see people laughing and joking during these times. I see the face of God in the joy of others. Say, do you believe in God?” The priest asked.

Hachi paused to give it a thought.

“How do you define God?”

“A greater power, a supreme existence.”

“I believe in coffee,” Hachi didn’t hesitate.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind.” The priest replied. Although he looked serious, it also appeared to Hachi that he was enjoying the conversation.

“Then no,” Hachi replied honestly.

Hachi didn’t believe in religion. He thought it was great and provided value to so many people. But to Hachi? Nope. He didn’t see a reason to believe in some greater power. Coffee was his everything. There was no need for a God when you have coffee. God may be dead, but coffee was eternal.

“I see. I appreciate the steadfastness of your faith, or lack thereof. As you may have noticed, I’m a clergyman.”

“I did notice that,” Hachi responded. He could detect from the priest’s body language that this was a friendly conversation, not the priest trying to push his faith on Hachi, nor Hachi trying to push his coffee-based faith on the priest.

Clara was being uncharacteristically quiet, Hachi thought. Perhaps she had committed a great sin or something. Well, it wasn’t any of his worries. Then again, he did have to verify one thing.

“You haven’t committed any sin against coffee, have you?”

“What? No! Of course not!”

Hachi sighed in relief; if she was nervous for some reason unrelated to coffee, it was not his problem.

Clara looked like she was about to burst.

“You ok?” Hachi asked.

“Sorry, I have to know… does your priest's gown contain pockets?”

“No, it does not,” The priest replied.

“Why is that?” Clara asked.

“I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“Father, forgive me, for I am about to sin,” Hachi replied, rolling up a newspaper, which he then proceeded to smack Clara on the head lightly.

“Ouch! What was that for?” She sulked.

“Stop pestering the customer about pockets.”

“I’m sorry,” She got down on her hands and knees to apologise.

Hachi wasn’t sure how the priest would react. The priest extended his arm, placing it on Clara’s head, which remained down.

“My child, it is not a sin to question about pockets. The lord is not angry with you.”

She looked up at the priest; her eyes sparkled with a newfound passion. Hachi left the priest to enjoy his coffee and once again thanked the two of them before leaving. After the priest had gone, Clara looked smug and goofy.

“What?” Hachi asked.

“Did you hear what the priest said? It’s not wrong to ask about pockets on clothes.”

“I think pride is a sin, though.”

“Eh?!”

“Yeah, it’s one of the most deadly ones. Sorry to say this, Clara, but you are going to hell now,” Hachi joked with his deadpan expression.

“Father, forgive me, for I have sinned!” Clara screamed as she ran to the door to chase after the priest.

∘•········ʚ ♡ ɞ ········•∘

End of Chapter 8