The Usual

Tracy chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at the "now open" sign. Leaning against the wood counter, Tracy hummed softly along to the singer’s voice as it drenched the building along with the hissing of the percolator. Two months in and not many have come, some acclaimed authors, some new artists, and a few stragglers who wanted cheap, but well-brewed coffee. As Tracy turned to face the coffee pots, she grabbed a rag wiping up the spilled water. Taking her time, not to get burnt, she cast her eyes onto the silver-coated coffee maker as a figure materialized behind her.

"If you’re going to make me angry, the least you could do is buy some coffee." She muttered to the transparent image.

"Am I interrupting?"

Tracy turned to see a young woman who greeted her with a suitcase and a smile. She looked like a lawyer, really well dressed and intellectual.

"No, no you’re my first customer for the morning. Is there anything in particular that you’d like?" Tracy asked as the woman looked over the menu board.

"What’s special for today? I have a case and I will need as much caffeine as my body can take." The woman laughed, grabbing her wallet.

"Well, today’s special is the amaretto latte and your choice of a sweet roll," Tracy replied to the woman with a delightful smile on her face.

"That sounds appetizing. I’ll take that, but make it a triple with the espresso honey."

Tracy nodded and turned to start the drink, smiling, and for the first time...she felt normal. She was having a normal conversation with a normal woman, a woman she could touch, not pass through. Once the drink was made and sealed, she heated the sweet roll and wrapped it with a bow.

"Here you are ma‘am" after Receiving the ten-dollar bill, Tracy exchanges the cash and hands the woman the remaining amount. With thanks, the woman walked out and no one else entered for a while.

Coffee was fresh, rolls were steaming...everything was in order and ready to be tasted. While there were no customers, Tracy took the time to fix the stack of magazines, newspapers, and some old paperback books. As she lowered herself from the small chair, she heard the chiming of her doorbell.

"I’ll be right with you!"

Making her way to the counter, Tracy saw a disheveled man in a white shirt and dark jeans waiting silently.

"I apologize for the delay. Hi, I’m Tracy, welcome to my shop. How may I help you?"

The man stared at her and pointed one finger at the menu. Tracy turned to see what he was pointing at, but it still wasn’t any help.

"If you’re not a big coffee fan, I do serve water, ginger brew, and freshly brewed tea, sweet and unsweet." She smiled brightly. The man lowered his finger and looked at the glass holder that contained sweet rolls. Pointing to it, he looked at her.

"Ok. I have peach, apple, cherry, wild berry, and custard."

The man narrowed his bloodshot eyes and pointed to the peach sweet roll. Paige lifted the cover and gathered the sweet roll placing it in its wrapper. The man’s eyes danced with joy despite his void face.

"Here you go."

"that will be..."

The man looked at her and then to his treat. Tracy watched as he licked his cracked lips and swallowed.

"You know what, it’s on the house. You’re my second customer and...consider this a gift."

The man looked at her, smiled with yellow-tinted teeth as she handed him the sweet roll. He unwrapped and bit into the sugary, warm roll. Not a sound was made, but his expression was enough to make Paige cry. She knew how long it took her to make the treats and master it. Now, before her, a man embraced her hard work-free of charge.

"Here...have another for the road. Please, feel free to come back anytime, but I will charge you...thirty-five cents next time."

She said while handing him another. the man smiled once more. Looking down at her register, Tracy looked up to thank him and when the man turned, she felt as if all the air in her lungs were sucked out. The man turned, the back of his white shirt was stained in blood. And as he turned to thank her with a wave, Paige spotted the hole in his throat. A bullet hole. He waved cheerfully at her and all she could do was smile and wave back. He didn’t know he was dead. He didn’t know anything, but that he wanted something sweet and she gave it to him.

Three hours into working, Paige decided to brew a fresh pitcher of sweet tea for herself. Humming to herself, a song that kept her safe, Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so...

"Excuse me? Tracy jumped in and shook "Sorry to scare you. Are you close to closing?" The man asked. He was medium height with deep waves and skin the color of coffee.

"No sir. I still have a couple more hours to go. Would you like anything from the menu? I have books, magazines, newspapers as well." Tracy offered as she dried her hands.

"I need something with a kick. Do you serve liqueur coffee?"

"I do actually, It’s only three flavors, to be honest. All ingredients are listed here." She smiled sliding over the menu for those drinks.

The man rubbed his jaw and nodded,

"I’ll take this one please and thank you."

"Sure thing! Is this for here or to go?"Tracy asked the man.

"Here. I like music, good tunes." He winked, taking a seat. She walked to the back of the front counter to gather the ingredients. Her heart was pumping faster than it had ever been. Turning to look back at the man, he was resting his eyes, nodding to the background music.

"Please be real." She whispered reaching over to grab the coffee. Mixing and pouring it into the glass, she topped it off with whipped cream and flakes of organic dark chocolate.

"Sir? Your drink is ready."

He walked over with a smile that could melt away all fears and anxiety. Taking the cup, he sipped and licked the whipped cream from his top lip,

"This is so far the best I’ve had. Thank you how much I owe you?"

"3.95."

"Alright... and how much do I owe to bask in your time?"

Tracy gaped, Is he asking me out? I can’t go out, I don’t date. I‘m not supposed to date, she whispered in her mind.

"M-my time?"

"Yes, I’d like to treat you to lunch. I just feel a little spark here." He chuckled. the man asked with a bright smile on her face.

"I would, but I can’t. I’m...so busy. Plus, I..."

"You have a boyfriend. Dammit, I always luck out. Well, thank you...Tracy. Here, you made one hell of a cup, keep the tip." He downed the rest of his drink sliding over a twenty-dollar bill.

"Thank you! Have a great day." she waved at him.

"Same to you." And like that, he walked out of her presence, the door, and the building.

As dawn began to rise, Tracy cleaned up her pots, cups, and arranged everything for the next day. Locking up, she turned off the lights and the music, before she made her way up the stairs to her room. Looking around her church, Tracy walked over to her window and watched as couples held hands, children and their parents crossed the street.

"This is normal. That is something you’re not." She whispered to herself. Closing her curtains then she showered and crawled into her bed, lonely and afraid. But she’d never tell anyone, that she, a grown woman, still slept with a night light, her ladybug mushroom night light that kept her safe and fought away every dark territory. That same night light since she was a child was guarding her. As her eyes began to close, she released a warm sigh that conflicted with the cold air around her.

In the shadows of her room, the same man in the white shirt was waiting for her. Smiling, he lowered his body to the ground-still eating his roll-and watching as she slept. In her dreams, Tracy pretended to be normal. She would take walks, go out dancing, go out to eat in a restaurant...just go out as usual, and live her life. Twenty-three and bound by fear and learned behavior, Tracy knew that her room was her safety. It was her comfort.

She couldn’t leave the building unless it was necessary, and at times, she had to face the challenges, the voices, the shadows, everything that her parents kept her from...and it backfired.

There was no turning back from that. There was no going forward. Her gift, her curse, her diagnosis, her label was a hindrance and she used it to every single advantage. Tracy was alone, mentally, but around her, she was surrounded by spirits...

The Curse

Morning came with a loud, thunderous blast shaking the building. Tracy groaned, pulling her sheets over her head. She didn’t want to move a muscle, but Tracy realized she was her only support. Her parents were still around, but her distance from them made things harder. It was called growing up and facing the music. With an irritable sigh, she pulled the sheets from her head and froze in place. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to jump out the window and run like hell, but she couldn’t. In front of her was the same man from before, a white t-shirt, bloodstain, and a bullet wound. Shrinking into her covers, the man noticed and shook his head.

"What do you want?" She yelled. Tracy knew that, They never talked, well, they’re not supposed to talk even though The man smiled and pointed to her bedroom door.

"You’ve been here the entire night?" Tracy asked with a shaken voice. He stares nodded with a smile.

"Ok, um...that’s creepy but ok. Why are you here? Are you stuck?" She asked as the man cocked his head.

"Well, I have to get my life started...can you go away now?" The man nodded and vanished right before her eyes. Just then, the shrilling of her cell phone almost deafened her.

"Hello?"

"Tracy? Is that you?"

"Yes, mom. Who else would it be at this number?"

"Don’t get smart with me. What are you doing today?"

"I‘m working. I work all week except Sundays." Tracy sats up, throwing her legs over the edge of her bed.

"Well, if you don’t know already, it’s your father and my anniversary and we’d love to spend it with you over dinner."

Tracy looked to her right and the ghost man stuck his head through the door.

"Do you mind?"

"Excuse me?"

"Not you, I’m talking...not you. I’ll give you a call later to let you know. I love you, bye."

As she immediately hung up the phone, the man vanished again, leaving Tracy to get cleaned up for the morning. Twenty minutes later, Tracy could hear the music playing and the smell of coffee brewing.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Not a sound, well not a living sound. The further she moved into the shop, she noticed that the front door was still locked. Unsure, she turned and face to face with him.

"Dammit! Make a noise will ya?" The man lowered his head.

"I‘m sorry, ok. I’m not used to spirits just...lingering around me. Is it because I gave you a sweet roll?" She smirked. The man looked up with a mischievous look in his eye.

"I‘m Tracy if you didn’t know that already." The man looked

at her and she could tell he wanted to respond. "I know you all can’t talk and it will be difficult as hell to play charades with a spirit." Tracy walked around the man, jumping as the canister of sugar spilled on the counter. Looking closer, it was as if an imaginary finger began to spell something in the sugar.

"Noah? Well, it’s nice to meet you Noah, and thanks for going all spooky in my shop with the sugar. Alright, Noah how about you clean that too. I gotta open shop."

As Tracy made her way to the door, she looked outside and pressed her forehead to the cool glass. She prayed for customers, even if it was just for a look around the shop and a small treat. Flipping the sign to open, she walked away and instantly the doorbell chimed. The same guy walked in from before, this time he was dressed very casually.

"Good morning."

"Morning, what can I start you with?" She asked walking behind the counter.

"I skipped out on breakfast to enjoy something here. I would like a hot coffee, six sugars, and cream. Also..." He mumbled looking at the menu.

"A toast please."

"Alright, let me ring you up, oh, what size coffee?" She smiled.

"I’m a big man, I’d like a large." He winked at her, while on the sideline Noah shook his head in disgust.

"I‘m Nathan, by the way."

"Nice meeting you Nathan and thank you for being a customer."

"Welcome sweetheart, by the way, how long have you owned this place?" Nathan asked, pulling out a seat to sit at the counter.

"For about two years straight." Tracy smiled looking around her shop

"That’s great, congrats. You run this place all by yourself?" Nathan asked, receiving a nod from Tracy.

"Enough about me, what do you do?"

"A little of this and a little of that. And to clarify for that look on your face, it’s all legal. My dad is a shareholder. He loves investing and all that, I just run my share."

"How do you like it?" Tracy asked, hearing the ’ding’ from his croissant. As she turned to remove it, Noah was standing there looking at the steamy dough.

"You won’t like it, it’s not sweet." She told him.

"What’s not sweet?" Nathan asked with a confused face. Tracy turned quickly.

"Oh, I was talking to myself...thinking of something new to make. Alright, here’s your coffee and your croissant. Enjoy."

"Leaving so soon?" He asked, slowly sipping his coffee.

"No, checking for mail, boxes mainly." Tracy made her way to the front followed by Noah. Outside, the storm wasn’t letting up and that meant the mail would possibly be delayed

"Great. Now I have to wait another day just to receive five books." Reading her expression, Noah reached over and touched her shoulder, causing her to feel a strange vibrating sensation. Tracy turned and smiled at him and this time, he didn’t look as he did before. He was still a spirit, but not how he was left off.

"Thanks for that."

"No, thank you."

She turned to see Nathan watching the rain with her. Nathan was attractive, but she could tell that there was something else under that glamour of his.

"With this weather, all mail will be delayed. That means overtime for me." He laughed leaning against the window.

"What do you want to ask me?" Tracy turned to look at him with a shy smirk.

"Well, before I go any further, are you single?"

"I am."

"Great. Are you looking for anyone?" Nathan asked, looking at his expensive shoes.

"Not really. I hardly have time to go out and dance, let alone a date with someone." Tracy laughed.

"I see, well...would you like to go out with me? Dinner, dancing, movie? Your choice." He asked, feeling a flutter in his chest. Tracy cocked her head and asked, "Are you single, like... not involved with anyone?".

"Like you, I don’t have time. It’s just me and my dog, honestly. I know, it’s sad." He shook his head. Tracy thought on it and said,

"I’ll think about it. Give me two hours and I’ll get in touch with you. I still have some inventory to take." Nathan gave a small fist pump. Exchanged numbers, thanked and tipped her.

After Nathan left, she received ten customers, not back to back, but over time. It made her heart full. She received customers in the natural and had one favorite customer of the spirit. While checking her inventory list, her cell sent off a familiar ring.

Mom/Dad.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Tracy."

"Hi, what can I do for you?" She asked him to check off the new flavors for her coffee.

"Tracy, I‘m your father, not a customer." He chuckled.

"Is something wrong? I’m swamped with work."

"Can’t a man call his favorite daughter and chat?" He sighed.