Cafes in small towns were probably a dime a dozen and Wren probably would have been better off setting up shop back home in Humboldt. But the thing was, he was sort of an explorer at heart. Also... there was something about this weird little small town tucked into the forests of Oregon that had drawn Wren into it.
So here he was, setting up shop in a small town with his small shop, aptly named Birdy Bee. He designed the logo himself; a cute fat little bumblebee twirling around a bird--a wren. His namesake. Wren had majored in media and business. Somehow, he ended up using his education to just open up yet another small town cafe. Lucky for him, he came from the kind of family that was only glad to see their children flourish. His mother was proud of him beyond words and his step-dad said that he had a good head on his shoulders.
Well, good. Because he was going to need it.
Wren checked the time on the vintage clock on the wall as he wiped down the last of the tables in preparation for opening. Nobody was here yet. None of the people he had hired. It was literally just himself and he had hired two other people for the opening shift!
The bell on the door dinged as somebody entered the shop and Wren straightened up.
"Welcome to Birdy Bee Coffee," he said cordially, even though in the back of his mind he was steaming over the lateness of his employees.
Bursting through the doors of the cafe in a cyclone of energy and color and noise, Luka's entrance was a definite Entrance. He wiped a hand over his brow dramatically as he swept inside and let the door close behind him. "It. Is. Fuh-reezing outside!" he declared to the single waiter inside who was wiping a table. Flashing the guy a bright white smile, he threw himself into a chair and set down the protest sign that he'd been holding.
It took Luka a while to unwrap himself. He had a thick woolen scarf to unwind first, then his hat, a heavy coat and finally gloves. Fluffing his hair back out energetically, he huffed. This was definitely not a day to be out--but there was no rest for the wicked! He wasn't going to stop protesting those beastly ranchers just because of a little snow and wind!
"Hey, can I get a double shot of espresso?" He pulled out his earphones and shoved them into his coat pockets, then relaxed in his chair. Normally Luka visited the Green Leaf Cafe for his coffee needs but he didn't think he could make it there, so he stopped into this... quaint little coffee shop. It had a cute sign outside, which was what initially attracted his attention.
Plus the waiter was a hottie. Definite bonus points there!
"Do you guys have any vegan options, by the way?" He crossed his legs under the table and perched his chin in the palm of one hand as he studied the menu from afar. Didn't look like it...
Great. Customers were arriving before either of his baristas showed up. Just his luck. He didn't allow himself to frown, however. The customer didn't deserve it, even if he was loud and obnoxious. It wasn't as if he was the one coming in late to his first day's work.
"Coming up."
A double shot of espresso was easy. Wren moved behind the counter, putting the rag away, washing his hands, and beginning the process of making the young man's order.
"Of course," he said in response to the question as he worked. "I'm from Humboldt." And in case the young man wasn't familiar with it, he added, "Veganism is a big movement there."
Making smalltalk was pretty much a staple of tiny cafes like these; Luka had been in enough of them to know that the wait staff and baristas didn't really give half a shit about whatever came out of his mouth. As long as he paid, that was all they cared about, which was fine by him. This guy was pleasant, at least, and what choice did he have? Luka was the only customer here!
Humboldt, though... Humboldt? It sounded familiar as hell. Luka pulled out his phone to do a quick google search on where, exactly, that was. "Oh! Whaat, there's two Humboldts! One in Saskatchewan and one in California!" He laughed as he turned the screen towards the barista so that he could see the results of the search. "You wouldn't happen to be a fellow Canadian, would you? Oh my god, that would be SO weird!"
That would be too much of a coincidence!
He let out an amused sound as he finished with the espresso and set it down gently in front of his only customer.
"Nope. Californian."
Wren lifted up a hand with the hang-ten sign and said, "Surf's up, bruh," in a tone meant to sound ironic. The truth was, yes. He surfed. He was one of those good old boys that took dance classes and played soccer, despite the oddness of his family. They were integrated there. Sometimes he wondered why he was here, what drew him here. But he was here... for now.
"Eureka, to be precise," he said. "By the bay. But anyway, they're really up there with the avocado toast trends. And we have soy alternatives for everything."
Seeing the protest sign that the kid brought with him, he smirked.
"Were you hoping to get into an argument?" he asked as he moved back behind the counter.
Luka let out a loud, amused laugh, head tilting back as he did so. "Hang ten bruuuh!" He didn't know if Californians really talked like that but the cliched portrayals on TV made them out to be like that—partially stoned and relaaaaxed. And, for some reason, always wearing skinsuits part-way undone and having bonfires on the beach. Was the water warmer in California? The lake by Luka's town—Slave Lake, what a name—was always frigid.
"Avocado toast! Oh my god, gimme." He held out his hands like a beggar. Avocado toast was practically what Luka lived off of these days! That and soy-based plant protein smoothies because—hey, he had this gorgeous body to look after. "I might come around more often if you guys have vegan options. All these meat eaters in this town..."
Sort of made sense, though, since ranches dotted the outskirts. Luka glanced at his protest sign which read, in large black block letters, MEAT IS MURDER, and smirked. "Honey, I don't have to go looking for an argument. Arguments find me." He kicked the sign gently. "I'm going back out in a little bit, once this wind dies down. Hitting up the Carter ranch.." He'd probably end up sparring with that troglodyte Wesley Carter. "Did you know that they segregate the animals? I mean—what kind of monster does that?"
Picking up his espresso, he took an appreciative sip. (Pinkie out, of course.) "Ooh... this is good! Oh by the way, I'm Luka. Single, in case you were wondering." He winked.
This guy was like a caricature of the people living in his old hometown. It was somewhat amusing. Wren himself wasn't a vegan but he was lactose intolerant so he benefited from the whole soy movement. And as much as people liked to laugh at the avocado toast trend, it was tasty.
"All right, all right," he said. "Coming right up."
Wren went to work again, only somewhat incensed that his employees still had yet to make an appearance. That's what he got for taking a chance, he supposed. Most of the people who applied were young, fresh and out of school and looking for a new niche to slide into. In a small town like this, most people already had their jobs lined up for them with family or friends of the family. New businesses like his weren't easy to come by and the young folk looking for a place outside that lined up.
And then disappeared, apparently.
"Monsters!" he said, again ironically. Because segregating animals hardly seemed like an awful crime. What if the horses trampled the chickens or something? Admittedly, when it came to farms and ranches, Wren was decidedly uneducated.
"And I'm Wren... also single but I wasn't wondering." How old was this kid again...?
Monsters, indeed. Luka saw those ranchers herding sheep and cows and horses, all in their pens. That didn't seem right! And the slaughterhouse?! Oh god, he didn't want to even think about how those animals suffered there! Milk from cows all penned up in stalls barely big enough to move around in, pigs that were crammed into over-crowded enclosures, chickens cooped up and not even allowed outside...
UGH! It was too cruel!
Although he detected a note of sarcasm from Wren—single, not wondering—he didn't say anything. Because he wanted his avocado toast. Normally, though, Luka would have launched into a well-rehearsed rant about animal cruelty and animal rights, and how people needed to reduce their carbon footprint by eating less meat and more vegetables.
His stomach, though, told him to shut up and he obeyed.
"Ah, well, that's too bad," he smiled gently. All the cute ones were straight. Damnit. The dating scene here was abysmal! Luka sipped his coffee again and jiggled a foot idly. His glance turned to the window; it looked like a thin fog was rolling in. "Wren, huh? Like the bird? That's a cute name. Is that why you called your cafe Birdy Bee? Where does the bee come in?"
Yes, yes. Too bad. Wren dated sporadically but he wasn't good at settling down. Hence being nearly thirty and not married. Luckily, he came from a family that didn't harp on that too much. He knew some people whose parents wouldn't shut up about hooking them up with somebody to marry, just to have somebody to be married to. That or being pressured to have kids. Wren's mother was more concerned with him being safe and happy than whether he could bring children into the family line. If anything, she probably didn't want him to.
"My mom has a thing for nature names," he said, a slight quirk of a smile. This was true; his mother loved all things nature. Maybe it was part of being a witch, because Wren found that he felt the same. Surfing, as cliche a thing as a Californian born boy could do, was just that: being close to nature.
"And partly. But Birdy Coffee didn't sound right and it's kind of a play on the birds and bees thing, I guess." Which sounded funny, given what birds and bees meant. "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to draw a fat little bumblebee for my logo."
He set down a plate of toast in front of Luka.
Nature names, huh? HIppie, Luka thought but had the good grace not to say out loud. Californians were like that, though. They gave their kids screwy names like Birch or Seafoam or Apple. Was that playing into stereotypes? Definitely! Grinning wryly, Luka craned his neck out to look at the sign again, now flapping in the wind.
"You drew it? Awww, that's adorable! Also—naughty~ But adorable!"
When he turned back there was a delicious avocado toast in front of him, and Luka wasted no time digging in. "Mmm... heaven. I'm in heaven, Wren, this is amazing. Did you—are these chili pepper flakes? So good!" He gobbled it down, no longer caring to appear pristine since Wren—single, not wondering—was no longer available to date.
"How much would it cost for you to come live with me and make this for me every morning? Like serious real talk here."
"Thanks." The naughty part, too, well, that was just between them for now. Most people didn't really ask about how it was named or why. A lot of the places in town banked on names that came from old townies. Wren didn't have that and he also doubted Chu Coffee was going to strike the same fondness as Birdy Bee Coffee did. Now his only problems were competing with the old hometown heroes and keeping workers.
"Yep." Those were chili pepper flakes. Wren looked back at the door, still no signs of anybody coming in. With a sigh, he moved toward the cupboards and opened it up to take out his help wanted sign again. Still listening to Luka, he let out a soft snort.
"Not enough," he said, because judging by the looks of the kid, he didn't have a lot of money. Or maybe he did. He could be old money; he did pull off that old money look. And if he could afford to spend all day protesting ranches... Okay, so he did look like a rich yuppie.
Wren slid the sign in the window.
"You'll just have to come by here every morning instead."
"Greedy," Luka said—jokingly—as his suggestion was flatly shot down. Well yeah. He wasn't rolling in dough, otherwise he'd already have a hot butler making him avocado toast in the mornings. Sigh. If only he'd been born to rich folks, like those Hazletons living in that giant mansion up on the hill, instead of being the son of a small-town lumberjack.
The only way his life could get more cliche was if his dad was a priest or something. Sheesh.
He watched Wren putting a sign up on the window, curiously tilting his body to get a better look. "Are you saying you'd want to see my face here every morning?" Ooh—sounded suggestive! But probably not. Wren was probably only saying it to get more customers... since Luka was presently the only person there. He smiled as he finished off his toast.
"Hey, you're looking to hire right? How about me? I'm looking for a part-time job right now!"
"I wouldn't mind it, I suppose."
He had nothing against this guy so far and it was true that he could use every customer he could get his hands on. This one might be loyal, too, given the vegan options in town were apparently lacking. Maybe that would be his schtick then. Maybe he should double down on the vegan options.
Wren tapped the sign. Well, yes. He as looking to hire or he wouldn't be placing that sign in the window. Wren gave the kid a once over, wondering if he even knew how to work. Since he made himself out to be a yuppie with the pinky lifted while drinking and all... Was he lazy? Hard to tell. But he seemed to throw himself into his non-work related... hobby of protesting a ranch.
Also, beggars really couldn't be choosers.
"Then you're in luck, because I have an opening. Ever worked in a cafe before?"
"Have I?!" Luka laughed as if the question was insane. "I've worked cafes, bars, Olive Gardens, street corners..." He laughed again at his own joke. "That last one was a joke!" He hadn't sunk THAT low yet, thanks! Although... if the number in his bank account got any lower...
"But yeah I've worked cafes. What do you need? Barista? Waiter? Eye candy? I can do almost anything! But I refuse to touch meat."
That kinda went without saying. Luka couldn't stomach the sight or smell of raw meat, oozing blood. He might faint. He was what his dad used to call a 'nancy-boy,' which was fair enough. Luka was camp through and through, but that didn't mean he was incapable of an honest day's work!
"We don't have waiters here, just baristas."
Waiters were superfluous in a small cafe such as his. What he needed was a person that could make the coffee and serve it to the customers. Waiters, in his estimation, were pointless since all they would do was take orders and bring the food to the table; that was something he himself or the baristas working could do. Besides, the maximum occupancy in this tiny building was 33 people and that was a stretch; he didn't expect there would ever be so many people at once, ever.
"And the only meat we serve here is cold cuts for sandwiches but I'll take note of your... aversion."
"Perfect! Well if you have gloves or something, I could make sandwiches." As long as it wasn't raw, Luka could overlook the cold cuts made from poor helpless animals led to the slaughterhouse so that their meat could be processed, pumped full of chemicals and flavorings, and sliced into deli cuts. But who was he to judge?
"Sooo... is that it? Do you need like references or something? Or do I just show up tomorrow and get to work?"
Obviously he couldn't start today—he had plans to march around ranches all afternoon! And in the evening he was spending some quality me-time with a large glass of red wine and a book. And Wren probably would have to train him up a bit on how to use the machines, since every cafe had slightly different equipment.
"And most importantly... what's the pay?"
"Of course I have gloves."
That was a given. Also, a crime not to have them. He would fail an inspection without them.
"I don't care about references but you do have to write up a formal application for my files and you'll need to take a food safety course. It's usually covered in the training week. And the pay is $12 an hour, part time. If you impress your customers, you'll get tips on top of that, too."
"Done!" Twelve dollars an hour was twelve dollars more per hour than he was making at the moment during the daytime! Luka divided his time between the gay bar downtown and his protesting activities. Since the bar opened later, he had plenty of time during the day for another part-time job. This seemed like the perfect place! Plus he could get avocado toast anytime he wanted—maybe even for free, if there was enough left over.
"I will see you bright and early tomorrow for training. Oh and I can take the paperwork home right?" He glanced over his shoulder; the fog didn't seem to be thinning but it was just fog. Nothing new to Luka, living by a lake—every morning was foggy around his home town. Now that he had some coffee and food in his system, it was time to get back out there!
"By the way. You wouldn't want to join the cause, would you?" He lifted the sign with a bright grin. "Meat IS murder, Wren. I mean—boss."
Wren produced the paperwork and slid it over to Luka. It didn't matter where it was done. Wren could review it when it came back and make it all official. Other than that... Well, he only hoped that this worker actually worked, unlike the last few hires.
"Just bring it back when you come in tomorrow."
And he looked at the sign as it was lifted up. Meat wasn't murder in Wren's eyes. He didn't eat a lot of it, to be sure, but he wasn't a vegan or even a vegetarian. There were so many things going on that he didn't have the time to look into the meat industry.
"Don't you think it's a waste of time to protest against actual small town farmers?" Wren asked. "It's not them you should have a problem with. It's those big time meat farms."
Luka tucked the paperwork carefully into an inner pocket in his coat, so that he wouldn't lose it. He sighed and shook his head slowly at Wren. True, not everybody knew how big farms worked—that was why he was here. To educate! (In, some might say, was possibly an obnoxious, loud, incessant way.)
"Big farms subsidize the work to smaller farms! All these ranches, they're hand-in-hand with the big companies. That's why they don't care about the animals' welfare! All they care about is their bottom line, Wren. That's the really tragic part."
Most of them didn't even make that much money, since all the costs of equipment, facilities and maintenance was up to the individual ranchers. Meanwhile, big companies were making bank off of them. Luka had done his research—and watched his fair share of documentaries to boot. He patted his sign. "Anyway I'm starting off small. You'd be amazed how uncivilized some of these local ranchers could be, too. One of them turned a hose on me last week! Can you believe that?!"
Wren didn't honestly know much about meat markets beyond buying from them. He had always been taught to buy local back in his hometown and it wasn't much different out here in this small town. Although local didn't necessarily mean Hazleton, it did mean the areas nearby. He decided not to get into that though. He still got the feeling this guy liked to argue when it came to... his passions.
"I can believe it." Wren busied himself cleaning up the area, just to have something to do with his downtime. If somebody came to his place of business and started protesting, Wren just might turn a hose on them, too.
"Have you even tried talking to any of these ranchers? Or are you just assuming they're like all the rest?" And by the rest, he merely meant the ones that Luka was really protesting. Who knew? Maybe he was right but he had to at least entertain the option he might be wrong.
Luka's artfully plucked eyebrows lifted. "Talk?" He snorted. "To the ranchers?"
See... the thing was... most (if not all) of those rancher types were big manly men types. Luka, the way he presented himself and the way he spoke, was about the furthest thing anybody could imagine from being a manly man. He was super gay—and proud of it!
Therefore, when the two worlds collided, it wasn't a pretty picture. He might have tried talking to one of the ranch hands, who flung a derogatory term at him. After that it seemed a bit pointless; he got on with the protesting and they got on doing nasty things to him like hosing him down.
"I'd get further smacking them in the face with the sign than going up to one and talking to them." Luka flung a dirty look out the window in the general direction of the ranches. Then he paused and let out a low whistle. "Hey, it got really foggy all of a sudden huh? I heard some weird stuff happened last year around Halloween Were you here for it?."
Good thing it wasn't Halloween right now!
"So you haven't tried."
If Luka tried talking, he might get somewhere. But standing around shouting with a sign seemed counter productive. Wren wondered how many people actually stopped to take Luka seriously like that or if he was just shooting his own foot. Then again, what did Wren know? He wasn't one of those protesting types.
Wren abandoned the topic when he looked out the window, too. Then he moved over to the window and peered out, getting a closer look down the street. The fog had rolled in pretty quickly and it was thick. It almost seemed to be getting thicker the longer Wren watched. He frowned.
"No, I moved here earlier this year..." He stared at the fog in distraction, then turned back to Luka. "Why? What happened last year?"
"I heard that some super shady things happened." Luka dropped his voice dramatically even though there was literally nobody else in the cafe except Wren and himself. It wasn't that dramatic telling a spooky story at normal conversational voice though!
"I wasn't there for it but apparently these weirdos who thought they were vampires tried to take hostages in the suburbs. And people said monsters came out of the fog and killed people. The police tried to cover things up."
He stood and walked to the window and tapped on the glass. "They said the fog was so thick you couldn't see in front of your own face. Anybody wandering around outside was... taken."
"Monsters?" Wren said more skeptical than he meant to but... Of course, he knew magic was a thing. Witches were a thing. But monsters...? He let out a soft little scoffing sound at the idea of monsters coming through the fog for people. If that was the case, the bay where he'd grown up would have been full of those--the fog came out in full force some days!
And vampires? All of it sounded so far-fetched, even to a witch like Wren. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Maybe it was witches, though. Witches messing with their perception. There were supposedly some covens here. His scoffing gave way to a thoughtful expression. His mother did say that some witches were summoners, summoning creatures from other realms. Maybe...
He looked back out into the fog but it was impossible to make out anything. He felt for any magic in the air. To his surprise... there actually was some kind of magic crackling in the air.
"Maybe we should stay inside until it passes."
"Yeah, monsters. Reapers, I think they called them." Luka shook his head and turned back to return to his seat. "I don't know if I believe it though. I mean how could anyone possibly cover it up if it was true?" He laughed—how the hell would the government even regulate something like... monsters? Keep it from the news? From the internet? Impossible!
Luka began to put his coat and scarf back on. "Oh no, no I have to get back out there to the ranches! I mean it's just a little bit of fog, no big deal. I'm totally used to it. Back home, every morning was like this. Anyway, how much do I owe you?"
He grabbed his wallet and went over to the counter to pay with his card. "Don't tell me you believe that story about monsters!" Luka grinned at Wren. "The only monsters around here are ranchers, believe me."
Wren wanted to say back home, fog like this was nothing as well but... If there were stories of people vanishing amongst the fog because of monsters, it was possible somebody was summoning them. Luka didn't seem all that worried, though and Wren didn't really know him so he sighed and shrugged before he told Luka how much he owed him.
"Be careful out there," he said. "Ranchers or not, if you make enemies, you might vanish next."
"If one of those caveman ranchers gets rid of me, I'm coming back as a ghost and haunting them forEVER!" Luka declared as he tapped his card on the machine, then pocketed his wallet. "And I know at least one who'd totally deserve it!" He glanced over his shoulder again at the thick, thick fog and sighed. He was more worried about what the humidity and moisture would do to his hair, to be honest...
"All righty, I'm off! See you tomorrow bright and early boss man!"