A coffee brewer's day starts early. Dear Celestia, does it start early. When you’re the one stallion in town that knows how to properly brew a cuppa, ponies expect that you’ll be up and percolating before the moon goes down at the end of the night. Unfortunately, those same ponies who force me out of bed before the crack of dawn also tend to enjoy coffee most when eating their after-dinner dessert from Sugarcube Corner. Most times, they’re in and out faster than I can say hello. Still, wouldn't trade it for all the riches of Canterlot. After all, I like to think that if I were to close down, the whole of Ponyville would collapse, since nopony’d be able to wake up and go to work.
A few particularly late nights in a row, and you tend to drink as much coffee as you serve, just to stay moving. I'm not complaining, but those long days are tough. I've been doing it for years, and I still can't say I’m used to the hours. It's just this one thing that keeps me coming back morning after exhausting morning: My regulars. I have a clientele who just can't get enough of my different roasts and blends. There's Brick ‘n Mortar, Windbreaker, Shifter, Waterlog, that scruffy feller whose name I can never remember, Leafy Green... List goes on. Point is, there’s a lot of ‘em.
There is one stallion, though, that's special even among them. His name is Clockwork Gears, and he’s the most punctual pony I ever met. By the way, since you didn't ask me yet, my name is Barista Brew. You can call me Brew if you want, or even Barry, but don't call me BB. It's annoying. See, I once had these mares in my shop, and the green unicorn one of ‘em – who was hyper enough before drinking my coffee – kept laughing at me because her friend had the same initials. I thought the friend was going to kill her for acting so weird in public. Eventually the weird mare sat down and...Sorry, I kind of went off on a tangent then. Heh.
Anyway, Gear was so darn punctual you could set a watch by him. Every evening, two hours before I closed for the night to get some extremely well deserved rest, he would trot in. Always started with the same order: one Mareican, straight black. That's a really bitter brew, if you didn't know, and he’d never have anything sweet to go along with it. Then he’d go and sit himself down in this one empty booth that always seemed free by the time he came, and he’d nurse that coffee till closing time.
This carried on for months, and I was always curious as to why he’d sit in a booth made for two instead of at the bar, where I could give him his coffee directly. One day, I guess I just got too curious. It might have been because it was raining and nopony but the morning weather crew had come in all day, or it might have been the wistful look on his face as he sat alone in my empty cafe. Either way, I went over and introduced myself and asked if I could join him for a chat.
Turns out that Gear was delighted to talk to somepony else for a change. He told me about why he came so often, and boy was I surprised.
See, he turns to me with this sort of sad expression on his face, and... Oh, shoot. I ain’t even told you what he looks like, have I? Well, he’s a sort of bluish unicorn – light blue – kinda got a long, thin face. Thin looking... Like he never really ate. Had this little mark round his nose. I think it was from glasses, but I never really asked him. Wasn’t really the sort of stuff we talked about.
So anyway, he said – best I can remember – something like this:
“Master, I’m afraid I find it somewhat... difficult to explain my being here. I received a letter one day, a letter detailing a time, a place, and a promise. No date.”
“No date? That’s... weird.”
“But he said he’d be here, and he never breaks a promise. I know he’s a busy stallion and he constantly forgets things like this, but I believe that he will come one of these days. The only problem is that if I ever miss a day, that will be the day he decides to show. It's inevitable. Still, I want my friend to know he can count on one thing in this universe. So until we meet up here, I will always come back."
"Isn't there any other way to contact him? I mean you've been at this for ages now. Who is your friend anyway? I asked him.
"No, when we moved our separate ways, I... I lost him. I wouldn't know where to look if not for this cafe. He was always so busy, moving around all the time. Brown earth pony stallion, hourglass cutie mark, very excitable so you'd know him if you saw him.” He grinned – and that’s something I still remember to this day. Whole face seemed to change. “Guess I’m counting on you and your coffee to help me keep up with him, Master.”
“Master? Listen, I ain’t never been the master of nopony.”
“Well, there was this rule that my friend told me about once, a long time ago. A coffee shop owner is called Master, same as a head mechanic is called Pops. He always was a weird guy, but he knew the most unusual and impressive things." Gear told all of this to me with a faraway look, almost like he was thinking about another life.
"Huh, I never heard of that before, and I don't think I have ever seen anypony like you described. I'll keep an eye out for him though, don't you worry." And that was my first conversation with Gear.
We had lots more talks with each other over the years. I got in the habit of getting him a snack or something on the house, because I felt like the guy needed some cheering up. He sure seemed to appreciate it.
I think it was a little while longer before the two of us became friends, but it all started then. From that point onwards, every time he walked into the cafe, I made it a point to greet him. No matter how busy I was, I always made sure to spend a few moments asking about his day, and once I got some free time in the evenings, he would tell me some of the funniest stories about his friend and all the good times they had together. I still can’t believe the one he told me about the celery and the screwdriver and the talking salt shakers.
It didn't seem like a long time to me. I guess time just is funny that way. Crawls when you are trapped in the moment, but when looking back, it disappears in the blink of an eye. I guess that brings me to the more current events. You know, there was that accident.
I couldn't believe it. Not when he was so close! I have no clue how many times we joked that death wouldn't stop this meeting. Couldn't begin to tell you how sad that made me when it looked like it had. At this point it was almost a matter of pride for me. There was some part of me that admired his... tenacity, I guess. Not many friends that’d go to that far for each other. It might have been vicarious, but I wanted to see the moment they reunited with my own eyes.
Of course it was only a day before all the weirdness happened in Ponyville. What with the dead coming back, and all those zombie pony accusations. Still, I didn't care. So long as I got to see what could only be described as the magic of friendship play out in my cafe, I was happy.
Neither of us said a word about the flickering. Seemed like it didn't much matter one way or another. It was just business as usual between us. Coffee, a few sweets, and happy talk between friends. Yes, we were friends. I like to think he had two reasons for visiting my cafe.
He was there before his usual time. That’s what clued me in that something was up. I just walked out of the kitchen and there he was, muffin in one hoof and a thin smile on his face.
So I found a spare minute – not too hard when nopony’ll visit on account of the ghost – and sat myself down next to him. Wouldn’t speak to me until I’d at least started on the muffin. Not too sure why.
“I met him.” I nearly spat out my muffin, but he just kept on talking. “Met him on the way here, actually. Little earlier than I expected, but I suppose that, cosmically, it’s fairly close. I suppose that that is that, then. All that time waiting and... well, he was in the wrong place again. As I’ve come to expect from him.”
I was shocked. He seemed so... unconcerned by it all. Like it’d been just any other day, like he hadn’t just met with somepony he’d been waiting two years for. Like none of it really mattered. He carried on:
“Not really sure what I should do now. I suppose an enormous amount of time has been freed from my schedule. I’ve got to find something to do.” His eyes locked onto mine. “How about your job? How difficult is it?”
The only thing I really had to take care of in the living world was my cafe, so I willed it to Gear before I came back.
He sure seemed like he knew his way around the kitchen. I’ve never seen anypony take to it quite so quickly; it was almost like he’d been preparing for it the entire time. Brewed me a coffee before I left: bitterest thing I’ve ever tasted, but you could see the skill that went into it. Guess he must have learned from the best.
That’s all I’ve got to say on the matter, Mister Charon. Guess it wasn’t as lively an adventure as some other ponies, but it was still my life.
Still gonna miss the old place, though at least I know it’s in safe hooves. After all, he's the Master now.
So, whatcha gonna do with that letter you’ve been writing?
O.C.s listed in the story are on loan R.T.Stephens and Timely_Tardis and may be a bit grubby when returned. Aquillo helped write this and is awesome.
