"Oh, yes, about that," Gus began with a chuckle. "Zuzu Bean actually gets their coffee beans from us."
"What?" I staggered back, dumbstruck.
"We roast the beans and create the blends." Gus shrugged. "Used to grow them out here too, but that was back when your grandfather was manning the farm. We've been chipping away at the beans he left for us. They've become rather exclusive, you know."
"No way," I sputtered, shaking my head. "There is no way."
Gus gave me a devilish grin. "Oh, but there is. You cityfolk have no idea. In fact," he leaned in close, "we could use your help growing some more beans. I can give you a bean to get started and once you get the equipment, you can make it yourself even."
I gaped at him. This was all too much. "Me? Make – coffee? Maybe – some other time? Grandpa?" My head was reeling and my heart was as black as the coffee I had in my backpack.
He patted my hand reassuringly. "Of course, take some time to consider it."
I nodded mutely and he left to tend to another patron. The saloon had filled up by the time I left it, some hours later. I had spent much of time there alone, in a daze. I vaguely recalled listening to some of my neighbours' daily grumblings, but none of it stuck in my head. They had mostly seemed to want a willing listener anyway, not a repartee partner.
Sitting in front of my fireplace, I sorted through my thoughts. I felt betrayed, like I'd been taken for a fool. But it wasn't just me, it was everybody in Zuzu City – everyone believed that this was some rare, artisanal coffee. Oh, it was rare alright. It was rare because my grandpa was dead. I tried not to think about all of the money I had spent at Zuzu Bean. I mean, it was good coffee, sure, but after seeing the price of it at the saloon here, it seemed completely unreasonable for Zuzu Bean themselves to charge 475g for a single cup of the stuff.
The sky had cleared up during the evening, so the moon and stars were visible against the navy blue backdrop. Just 4 hours away, the same moon and stars lay above Zuzu City – city of liars and tricksters. It was mind-blowing how bright and clear the moon and stars were here. I had never quite grasped how much light pollution there was in the city. Thinking about the place sickened me to the core right now, a visceral pain that threatened to take me under. I stumbled outside and sat down on the steps of my front porch.
I took a deep breath of the still, night air. The freshness cleaved my thoughts and I wobbled with relief. In and out, I took my time enjoying the pure air filling my lungs. I had a bad feeling that I'd have a nightmare tonight if I slept now, so I pulled myself to my feet and went to work clearing out some more land. A peacefulness settled in me and I had no dreams that night.
The next morning, I was greeted by a knock on my door.
Not quite awake, I dragged myself over to open it. On my doorstep was Marnie.
"Good morning, farmer," she grinned up at me, bits of straw already caught in her rich brown hair.
"Morning, Marnie," I yawned, but covered my mouth with a hand.
"I know it's early, but I wanted to make sure I caught you before you headed out for the day." I noticed that her hands were behind her back.
"What can I help you with?" I tried not to give her a suspicious look, but her expression was sheepish and guilty as hell.
"Well, you see here, I have a dog that has no home. I can't possibly take another one on at my ranch. The last pup we had – it broke Jas's heart when he passed away. I can't do that again to her, and Shane agrees." From behind her back, she brought out a brown dog. It was a mutt of some sort, with soft floppy ears and a black button nose. It was a medium-sized dog, which was a nice change from all of the tiny lapdogs I was used to seeing being carried around in the city.
I hesitated. "I'm not sure, Marnie."
"I mean, you don't got to take him, but if you do, I'm sure he will be happy and well-behaved. His temperament seems kind."
The dog looked up at me with such hope and excitement, a string of drool hanging off the side of his mouth. Then he turned on the puppy eyes, and it hit me like a laser beam directed at the block of ice that was my heart. I knew I was done for. "Okay, I'll take him," I said finally.
"Great!" Marnie grinned and put the dog down. I watched him take off from the front porch and race around, dodging the trees and boulders I still hadn't cleared out yet.
"What will you name him?" Marnie asked kindly.
I chewed my bottom lip. "I shall call him Dog, for now."
"An original name."
Was that a hint of snark? I peered at her. She gave me her usual, bright smile. Marnie seemed too kind for snark. "Thanks," I said, mustering up the energy to smile. "I'll take good care of him."
She beamed as she waved good-bye. I closed the door.
I had expected for my feelings of being overwhelmed to lessen over time as I lived out here, but that didn't seem to be the case. A fresh hell seemed to present itself every few days, and as I looked at my new pet, I tried not to think about how I had no idea how to care for a dog. I didn't have pets growing up as my mom was allergic to most furry creatures, and here I was adopting an animal I had no strong feelings for. I went outside and watched Dog roll around in the grass. How hard could it be?
After watering my crops, I filled his water bowl and chased him down. Dogs enjoyed being pet, I was sure, so I give him a small pat on the head before I headed into town.
Thoughts of yesterday came flooding into my head as I saw the saloon. I veered away from it and headed north. I took my time, picking daffodils and dandelions along the way to the mountain. I even went into the abandoned community centre. There had been some sort of motion to sell it to Joja Corp, but that had fallen through. Apparently they had needed one more membership in order to seal the deal, but I had decided to withhold that from them. It felt good to stick it to Joja in some way. I almost felt powerful.
Sebastian wouldn't be out his room yet, so I spent some time fishing by the lake. Linus was nearby, but did not disturb me. I could hear his whistling and humming, and as I took the long way to Sebastian's house, I heard the crackle of a fire by his tent. I popped by and we exchanged a few meaningless words. Someone had destroyed his tent – I had no idea who would do that – neither did he.
As I entered the building, I gave Robin a wave, and she beamed at me. Apparently my patronage had won her over despite her initial misgivings. Money talks, I thought dryly. Or maybe she was just thankful that someone deigned to talk to her son. Mothers were funny creatures like that.
I retraced my steps from yesterday, walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Just as I had expected, he was there, and my heart thudded with anticipation. Sometime in the past week, I had set my heart on befriending this strange creature. I still wasn't sure why, but Robin certainly wasn't the reason. It was likely, I thought to myself, because he seemed like a normal person. He was wary, not overly friendly, but not extraordinarily rude. And funnily, I felt as though our conversations – as short as they were – went beyond that level of shallow smalltalk. I had always struggled with that stage when trying to make friends. It had always been so hard getting to the core of a person, past those flowery, filler words. But depth came naturally to our discourses somehow. And, I reminded myself coolly, he was interested in the city.
"Hi… need something?" he asked distractedly. He was boiling something on the stove, eyeing it as it bubbled.
I frowned as I took him in, stepping closer.
"Holy shit, what happened to you? Are you alright?" He was wearing a black t-shirt that revealed a series of red, angry cuts on his arms. They didn't look like clean cuts, but rather like he'd been attacked by something. Without thinking, I reached out a hand, but his eyes widened and I stopped.
"What are you doing?" he sputtered, his cheeks flushing. "I don't really know you."
"Shit, I'm sorry." I backed away and decided not to mention the instinctive pull I had felt to tend to his wounds. He was right, we barely knew each other. What was wrong with me? "I should go," I muttered, and turned to leave, my head hanging with shame. I had made it almost to the doorway when he spoke.
"I snuck into the caves last night and got a nasty cut from a rock crab. Don't tell anyone, okay?" I stopped mid-step and turned. His eyes bore into me intensely, the look of discomfort gone from his face.
I nodded. "Okay. I promise not to, but I'd love to hear about it." I paused. Had I pushed the boundaries with him too much by saying that? I hated this. Words just spilled out of me when I talked to Sebastian, always pushing, reaching, grasping for any shred of him in return. "But you don't have to if you don't want to. It's just that I love exploring those caves. Something about them is… comforting," I finished lamely. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell him about the calm tranquility that mining in those caves gave me. It seemed abnormal, but at the same time, hinting to him that I was abnormal didn't seem altogether like a bad thing.
He nodded slowly. "I feel the same way about the caves." He flicked a dial on the stove and removed the pot from the element.
A wave of relief washed over me. Maybe we were still on track to be friends. Just friends, I emphasized to myself in my head. "Cool," I said. "I felt weird saying it, so I'm glad you understand."
He gave me a hesitant smile and a warmth fluttered in my chest. "I just went in there last night. I don't care to take up mining as a hobby, but I like the coolness of the caves, and some of the stones in there are neat-looking."
"Yeah, I agree, except I do the mining part." I shrugged. "The ores are useful for upgrading my tools, and it's kind of satisfying smashing open rocks."
"Fair enough." He transferred the contents of the pot into a bowl. It looked like instant noodles, and I couldn't help being a little endeared by that. I thought about the raw leek I ate for breakfast. I could relate.
A thought occurred to me. "How did you run into a rock crab? They usually aren't in the top two levels of the mine."
He shrugged. "The elevator is working now. I took it down to the fifth floor just to see what was there."
"Fifth floor?" A sense of panic filled me. "Shit, I'm the reason why you got hurt."
"How so?"
"I've gotten the elevator to go down as far as I've explored. It makes it easy for me to get back to where I was. I didn't realize that anyone else went in the caves. I didn't even think to leave a sign or note or anything."
Noticing my distress, he said, "Hey, don't worry about it. It's not your fault I got hurt. It's mine. I know that it gets dangerous further down, and I knew not to go down any further than that. I just wasn't very careful. Okay?"
I had to look away. "Okay." I let out a quiet sigh. I was still incredibly disappointed with myself. I felt responsible, and there was no way I could shake that right now, not while his arms were covered in those angry, red marks. My stomach felt like a pit, and I was going to collapse in on myself. I bit the inside of my lip in hopes of controlling my distress.
"So," he began, flustered that I was suddenly the ruler of darkness and bad moods and not he, "the coffee."
"Oh right." I had almost forgotten.
He smiled tentatively.
"You were right. They're the same beans." I let him bask silently in his correctness for a moment before continuing, "Gus said that he provides the beans to Zuzu Bean. They were originally grown by my grandpa, but since that supply's gone, Gus has been very slowly making it through the rest."
Sebastian nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
"Does it?" I couldn't keep the frustration out of my voice. "I feel so betrayed. Zuzu Bean touts their coffee as some artisanal, local, hipster-quality treasure. And what do they use? My grandpa's beans. It's ludicrous. They're liars." I stopped suddenly, hyper aware of myself ranting. "Sorry, I got carried away. It's been bothering me a lot. I did a lot of thinking last night."
Sebastian nodded, indicating for me to continue. He stirred his noodles with a fork.
"I've decided that I'm boycotting Zuzu Bean. They are traitors and liars." My face was heated, the raw anger from my disappointment still not quelled. For a brief moment I was afraid that Sebastian would react to my untenable rage, but he was nonplussed. There was an instant when it looked like he might speak, but opted not to, letting his mouth assume that smirk of his I had grown to—
"Do you want the rest of the coffee my mom sent me?" I asked quickly, pleadingly.
He shrugged, letting his smirk slip as he waved a hand over his bowl.
"I'm taking that as a yes, I don't care how much you hate me. I am giving you the rest of this godforsaken coffee." I paused, the hot power in my veins cooling off abruptly. "And I can only bring them to you one at a time… I'm out of space in my backpack…"
He shrugged again, but a smile flitted around his lips.
"Okay, it's decided then." I pulled off my backpack and handed him a bottle of the traitorous coffee.
"Thanks," he said. "I–"
"No, you have no choice," I cut him off.
He looked amused, but didn't say anything more. I could tell he was getting restless and tired of socialization. I didn't blame him; we had spent the last half hour talking about this godawful coffee and my carelessness in the cave.
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." I hefted my backpack back onto my shoulders. "And if I somehow miss you, I guess I'll see you at the Egg Festival on Friday."
He frowned. "Isn't it on Saturday?"
"It's on Friday." I frowned even deeper than him. "That's what Sam said, anyway."
His mask of calm, cool, collectedness cracked. Sebastian laughed – a genuine, honest to goodness laugh. It was a strangely pure sound, especially coming from him, but behind it was a comfortableness and camaraderie. "Sam can hardly remember how to tie his shoes. The festival is on Saturday."
I resolved in that moment to never trust anything that came out of Sam's mouth ever again. "That ass," I muttered.
Sebastian grinned, the smile even reaching his eyes, and my heart did a weird flip-flop in my chest. I made a note to punch myself later. Friend, I reminded myself, that's all. "I don't think he meant to tell you the wrong thing. You have to cut him some slack this time."
"Fine," I huffed. "This time. Only because you said so." I headed for the hallway, my shoulders squared.
"And I don't hate you," he said quietly. I stopped moving. "In fact, if it's easier, you can visit me in my room. I don't mind."
My breath caught. Holy fuck. An invitation to visit the lord of darkness in his lair of hellfire and midnight? "You're going to regret that," I turned to give him a wave. "I am going to visit the shit out of you. Good-bye."
"Bye." I caught the edge of a tired smile before I sped off. I couldn't wait for tomorrow.