THE CAFE
Bosatsu
It is not often that God's story is told. I mean, when the average person sees the story of God, they either think, "This is going to be some sort of religious shit, isn't it?" Or their next assumption is, "I'm not sure I want to read a story about someone who has all the powers, and all the answers." Well, speaking from experience, it's not like that.
You see, God has about five existences, at least. Some of which the average Christian knows of, but doesn't really understand. Why not three? Well, we'll get to that.
Let's start off with the one they typically understand least. The Holy Spirit. Now most people who hear about this think of some big creepy ghost or something. But you'd be better advised to think of it as a sort of hive mind or Shinto concept of there being a sort of spirit in everything. Anyway, yes, God is in all of us to some extent or other. That's why, as much as possible, we can't treat other people like crap.
Next is Jesus. Now, basically everyone "knows" who Jesus was, but probably almost no one actually knows who Jesus is. What do I mean by this? Well, the majority of paintings seem to be of a European man. But in Africa, Jesus looks black. In Korea, Jesus looks Korean. The leftists interpret the gospel as some sort of social justice message, while the gun-toting Republicans point out that Jesus did say to carry a sword at one point. Also, most of the depictions of Jesus seem to think he originated with the virgin birth. This is untrue. We are told that the Word (what Jesus was before "Jesus") was there since the beginning. You know the rest of the story, I suppose.
Then of course, there is the Creator, the so-called "God the Father." Only God hasn't any gender unless He or She chooses one. There's very little that I could explain about such a being. The only thing to add is that even here, we should dispense with notions of "perfect" or "absolute" or the like. These terms paint a picture of an aloof deity, when nothing could be further from the truth.
Then we get to Jesus in the Second Coming. Human beings thought that Jesus would be just like they imagined him last time. Or they heard that Jesus came to reign, and thought of some kind of world leader. They would elect tyrants, hoping they would punish all those wicked people that they hate. When the Second Coming went down, it didn't actually play out this way. For one thing, Jesus wasn't incarnate again. He wasn't able to die, and he didn't have a fixed human form but rather could shapeshift any way he wanted. He settled in one town, and did most of his preaching there. But somehow the rest of the world got the memo, and world leaders stopped being quite so bossy, large businesses stopped being greedy, and scientists stopped trying to blow up humanity or enslave it with unethical research.
And finally, there was Ambrosia. If Jesus was the incarnation of God the Son, Ambrosia was more like the embodiment of God the Father. I know, there are some people who say she shouldn't exist. Herself, most of all. She had no powers at all though, not until she studied under a bunch of Oracles. In fact, for the longest time, Ambrosia didn't remember that she was God. She went on a quest to stop a demon, and then another quest to stop an angel. She met her friends, the love of her life Nevras, and eventually her own child Tamashii. And when her quest was over, things start to get weird. In one version of reality, she lived out a full life with Nevras and her friends. In another, she went too far, and kinda picked up an insane murderous personality.... Let's not talk about that. And in the last, she became God, and made Nevras a Saint. But what happened next?
Let's let her tell the rest of the story. I've talked enough.
God
I have a dual existence as God and as Ambrosia. When God sleeps, I'm awake and vice versa. But now that I have become God, I do have His powers. But being God isn't quite what you'd think. I'm sure alot of people would say "Oh yeah, the first thing I'd do as God is flood a few places. And then I'd smite this person and that one..." Or they'd act like Miss America contestants and say they just want world peace. Great, you've lobotomized the population. Human beings are only peaceful or happy when they are brain-dead.
I don't go around throwing around powers. In fact, aside from immortality, most of my powers I don't use on a daily basis. As God, I have standing orders for a number of subcontracted entities to do most of my work, mainly becoming involved when the job needs a personal touch. Any of my angels can do healing, and the Reapers do a damned good job managing birth, death, physical laws, stuff like that. As Ambrosia, most of my time is spent with Nevras. We still go on dates. But while I can be happy with him, I can't be happy doing nothing. And so, I took the only real job suitable for someone who is God, listening to people's problems.
No, I'm not a priest. I'd work at a bar, but I personally have no interest in alcohol. So I became a barista at one of those coffee bookshops, deciding to send myself and my dear hubby back to Earth's past. We got here in about the 1940s, and made it through without getting bombed or invaded by the Nazis. The store has been around awhile. We sell all the books too long to read in one sitting, War and Peace, Oracle of Tao, Journey to the West, Venmurasu, A Chronicle of Ancient Sunlight, Dream of the Red Chamber, Water Margin, The Legend of the Condor Heroes, Atlas Shrugged, Lord of the Rings, stuff like that.
As far as the land goes, I own it outright with no property tax involved ever. I said, "I'd like to make a coffee shop with books to read," and it was so. The land grew up into a forest glade, roads joined into a shopping district surrounded by trees and wildlife, and when the government said they'd like to tax the land, I said, "No thanks." I don't go around ruling governments, but if I say no to something, they have to do it that way. I was given a tax break indefinitely, and somehow extra property taxes appeared for them in the form of a shopping mall six miles away. A city grew outward from there, staying mercifully away from developing in these woodlands, yet connecting closely enough to them that we got regular business every day.
I sell pretty much any drink, in addition to a number of scones, and some cute heart shaped pocket pies with everything from meat to baked apples inside. We use wholesome ingredients, they're locally sourced, and they're fresh, but they're not exactly grown in the ground. You see, in actual fact, I'm pretty average cook. Maybe below average considering how often Tamashii griped about meals I made. The cafe section of the shop has no items on display, only pictures of items. I tell customers that it saves cost not having to store everything exposed to air. But the truth is, while I do make coffee, tea, and hot cocoa, I don't actually have a kitchen in the back room. Instead, there's a table, a chair, some plates, and my imagination. I say, "Let there be a scone, with little nuts, and a couple of chopped up rose petals on top for decoration." And it is so. Out comes a hot baked scone exactly to customer specifications.
"I never get tired of watching you do that," says Nevras. As a former prince of the kingdom of Phoenix, he runs the cash register and a remarkable number of business planning decisions are made by him. Not that we need money. Both of us are immortal, and thus don't need anything to eat or drink ever. This cuts down on a huge amount of expenses, as does having the property tax free. But to make things look legitimate, we typically abide to good business models and avoid being in the red. Any money we can spare typically goes to churches and temples. And any time we have is spent with each other, either out on dates or making sweet sweet loving to each other, or in some cases just sitting in and snuggling while watching a movie. This era doesn't have Netflix yet, but being God, making it happen anyway has never been a big deal. We are perfectly fine to just "Netflix and chill" while eating popcorn or the like. Yes, we can eat, we just don't have to. I smile at him, "Shush you. Are you okay to work today, or should I hire the assistant?"
Sylvia is our assistant. She is a part-time worker at the register for when Nevras and I just want to goof off. She has a perky face, strawberry blond hair tied back in a ponytail, and a nice figure that both Nevras and I admire. She is also not, strictly speaking, real. She knows deep down that this is so, but she has a pretty full backstory written for her, and so she's reasonably happy with this arrangement. She tells people that she was raised by a single mother, that she worked hard to get through a nice private school, and that she trained for years in business and economics classes, and decided what she really wanted was a quiet job. She's happy with this story. What she's not happy with is that after work, she basically disappears again. But while creating nourishing food is easy for me, creating false life is a bit like maintaining a lie. It can only go for so long before becoming exhausting. She doesn't get to go to parties or do any hobbies, unless I clear the weekend to sleep. Nevras shakes his head, "Nah, it's okay. Save her for when we're really booked."
We go back outside. There are about three or four customers out there. One of them is a brunette girl in glasses and a miniskirt reading Gravity's Rainbow. I know that she just likes to read, and has been banned from the library for speaking out against their excluding blacks. So I let her read. The book she is reading, doesn't technically exist yet, because in the world outside, it is the 1960s now and there are still Jim Crow laws.
Another is a homeless man who I typically turn away during business hours. The poor are always with us, as they say, and I don't want people to be mooches. I don't want them starve either though. I'm considering hiring him on as a room and board worker, since he mainly doesn't care about anything other than being fed. So I do, on the spot. I make clear that he can't go around begging, but I want him to eat, so if he comes to work for me he will always be fed. I pay him a bonus occasionally when business is good. I could print money myself, but even I can't overturn the laws of inflation. Even perfectly real money (as much as money is real) will still devalue currency. There are Jim Crow laws, and he is black. Yet here, such things as political sides do not exist. I am neither conservative nor liberal, though I refuse to let the idea of equal rights be corrupted by those who would use it for totalitarianism. One day soon, all blacks are allowed to be hired, but the people will bemoan perceived "microaggressions" while they allow real racists to try to take away their rights. But here, but now, if anyone wants to come and give this guy any trouble, they will find it extremely hard to do. You see, inside our window, facing the customers is a sign that reads, "No troublemakers will be allowed inside this establishment." Anyone who tries to open our doors with malicious intent will find them locked, while other customers can enter freely. And no, the trick of following someone who opened the door doesn't work, for a strong wind will force them outside. Anyone who throws rocks at our glass will find themselves knocked out by the very brick they've thrown. This man is safe here, and I have prepared a guest room for him to stay as long as he wishes.
Still another young woman is struggling with an unwanted pregnancy. I help her deliver a healthy child well before term, and then give her the number of an adoption clinic. No, I am not in favor of abortion. The right to choose never allows the right to choose to end a child's life. It is only the right to choose not to have sex in the first place.
Years pass. The homeless man has retired with a nice pension. The girl who was reading books before still reads books. And the woman who was headed to the adoption clinic decided to keep the child, who is now an adult. She too is a loyal patron. The world outside us has changed. Libraries are now desegregated, as are all establishments. Men and women can work. Still other changes came. I supported the idea of equal rights for all, but opposed all these black studies and women's studies. Generations to come will learn about how they are oppressed, a sure way to create self-fulfilling prophecy, and not how to be happy and work hard for your dreams. Sylvia is once again our worker, though I have made her look older. Soon I will have to change her name and appearance. Nobody asks why Nevras or I never age. Most of them either cam only as adults, or have figured out the truth of who we are.
I have bought the shopping district, inflation be damned. It updates with the era but there were three restaurants, a temple, and an inn. While the rest of the world is only barely getting past burgers and fries or maybe Italian food, the idea my daughter Tamashii had was to have foods from all around the world. But we couldn't exactly import random people from all over the world as their languages and cultures are so much of an adjustment, so I just decided to instantly teach locals entire cultural menus. So, there is a European restaurant, Asian restaurant, and African restaurant. Unlike most such restaurants, they have pretty much every culture's dish on each continent. I occasionally serve churros as well.
More years pass. We have new customers. Some of these have pink or purple hair, others have mohawks or tattoos. This generation seems to be getting more free in terms of their physical expression, but I see its future. While society is becoming more and more equal now, their leaders are control-freaks, and actively trying to become dictators. We see the beginnings of it, these mass shootings used as a pretext for gun confiscation. Not that I care for guns, but I remember that Hitler and Stalin took weapons before they took over. Meanwhile, shopping districts like mine around the country are having increasingly shorter lifespans. The space wasted on urban sprawl is a problem, as is the congestion of cities. My small district has stayed the same only because it is not technically part of this world. When developers look at this area to cut down trees and build high rises, they suddenly forget what they were doing and head to a different area instead. I see the increased isolation of society, until at last things reach their limit. The three restaurants have changed. These are not run by people who know me anymore, only people who pretend to. The Asian restaurant became a fusion restaurant, with muddied and Americanized dishes. The Asian restaurant is now Indonesian. The African restaurant became a soul food place where "persons of color" congregate, and the nearby temple is now a mosque. The staff of each of these is imported from around the world, but it is like the Tower of Babel in each. Food barely gets cooked on time, because cooking directions need to be translated from English to Spanish to other languages, and much of the directions are lost in translation. The places are not allowed to be owned by local workers because of claims of cultural appropriation. But all these cultures don't get along. And so, these businesses are sold. The people who own them wind up broke and on the streets, eventually moving to cities to find work.
More years pass. Even though everyone is welcome, from male to female to intersex or crossdressers or transgender people, from blacks and whites to many other racial groups, increasingly it is becoming difficult for people to enter because of the no troublemakers rule. There is violence everywhere outside the shop. The people are glued to their handhelds, not looking up at one another. The state is exploiting this antisocial distance to further divide and conquer. A number of new laws for businesses are going into place, and people are not going outside much at all anymore. We refused to abide by these laws, but our business might as well be closed. They said these measures would be in place just a few weeks, but it's already been two years. And the fighting between people continues.
Centuries pass. The state took over, and turned the entire world into ten nations. Ostensibly, the world is at peace, and everything looks natural and green. But actually, there are a number of absolutist city states, and the population is capped at around 500 million. There is heavy population control, most religions are banned, and the state has absolute control on the lives of others. We still live in our coffee shop, but now it is hidden from the world. Our role now is to provide sanctuary for those who understand the truth, that violence and evil have taken over.
Millennia pass. The Earth is made anew (which might possibly have something to do with my intervention, but let's not take too much credit), and we have reopened our coffee shop to the public. The world is made up of people who remember how bad things got, and the state is carefully restricted by a Council determined to limiting the power of cities and governments. But never mind that. Today, is a very important day. I have a very important customer. Myself.
Ambrosia
"I still don't see why you brought me here," I say. Nevras pulls me inside anyway. "Relax," he says, "the food is great, and there are African, Asian, and European restaurants nearby. It's a regular slice of the old Earth here." I argue, "How did you find this place anyway? I mean, we had to walk to the middle of nowhere, through some swamps and thickets. Couldn't you have gone to another town?"
He shakes his head, "This lady makes the best coffee ever. It's like your coffee, only if you'd had thousands of years to perfect the art. And her churros are to die for! And it seems like everyone who attends her cafe gets helped out in a major way." I scowl at him, "Didn't you say you'd only been here once and that was when you were a child? A lot can change over the years. This lady is probably old by know and no longer remembers how to cook." I enter the story with Nevras and start screaming. Tamashii follows behind, saying, "What are you two carrying on about, have you even ordered something for me... Aaaaaaaah!!!" For she sees that this cafe has mirror images of her parents working at the counter. The employee and the owner seem unfazed by all this screaming. They ask, "What can I get you?" After we recover our composure, I order a scone with little nuts and a couple of chopped up rose petals on top for decoration. Something about that order seems right. Nevras orders a garden salad and some tea. Tamashii orders a slice of pizza with anchovies and a strawberry milkshake. The barista slices fresh strawberries to put on top. A memory comes to me of when Tamashii asked me to do this, and this cafe becomes surreal. We thank them and leave. "Have a nice day!" the barista calls out.
Rinne
It's funny. We watch these humans every day, sitting down to some coffee. We watch as their days where they try to pretend to be as busy as us (as if such a thing were possible, when we get sent to virtually every time or place), and derive tremendous joy from sitting down to a nice warm beverage. But for us, there is no rest, for we are always on our mission... "Hey there, Rinne!" a voice calls out. It is Ambrosia, known in our circles as God, though she uses her powers in a far less grand way than most religions will let people know. Technically, like us, God can be everywhere or any person, but she is also incredibly laid back and friendly. Like a barista. "Ummm... uhhh, hi there," I stutter a bit. We are very powerful, but He (God likes people to call her a Him) existed first. "You guys look like you need a break today," she says with a knowing glance. While we do our missions forward and backward in time, and sometimes even outside of it, this day we had to exterminate everyone in the Afterlife, as they had corrupted into evil spirits. She isn't kidding. Yomi, Seishi and I all nod. "So?" she asks, "What will you have?" The other customers will not notice this. We are not just invisible, but people who aren't dying or spiritually sensitive don't even notice we've been here.
I order a simple cappuccino. She doesn't even do anything special for me. I don't want any cool tricks, just to have a break. "I'll have a Kopi luwak, fresh," Seishi says while all of us groan. A group of wild civet manifests, probably summoned from back when they were kept in cages, and defecates on a plate. After they run off in freedom, Ambrosia washes the beans, then plops the result in a coffee filter and boils it up. Then Yomi orders, "I'll have a green tea with some milk art. You can make it happen right?" Ambrosia (not the one who left) explains, "I can make it work without doing anything special. Though art isn't my strong suit." She isn't kidding. Normally, the milk must be steamed in order to do art, because the sugars and such need to denature. But she poured cold milk, and it cooperated with her. But yea, she was barely managing a simple leaf pattern. We set and drink while watching the sun rise. We look as children and animals (including those civets) walk through the area, sipping slowly. Then it's back to work. A portal opens up, and we head to Bosatsu to receive our next assignment.
