Mystery | Supernatural
The Cafégeist — Chapter 1
Starting over
One day, a café owner named Daill discovers that all of her customers mysteriously disappeared without a trace. As Daill starts to investigate, she is confronted by the Cafégeist, a group of deceased beings who have been trapped in the world of the living by a dark supernatural entity named the Grinder.
A month earlier
“Woo-hoo! It’s finally here!” Daill exclaimed when her anticipated delivery finally arrived.
She got her last piece of furniture for her new modest-size coffee shop that afternoon. Daill bought her couch at an antique store on the other side of town. The dark brown leather Chesterfield was perfectly placed by a large sliding window that opened to a lifeless enclosed space.
She planned to convert it into a minimalist’s Zen rock garden to be her meditation space outside shop hours. Yes, it was a cliché. Don’t judge me, she thought with her middle finger gestured toward her imaginary accusers.
Most of the furniture including the round oak tables and matching chairs, lamp stands, and an attractively ornate gramophone were bought at the same antique store. Only the curtains and her premium La Marzocco espresso machine were bought online. Daill had paid for them all from the amount left over from her bank loan.
The two-storey brick building that she inherited from her late uncle was old and neglected after he passed away the year Daill got married. Since Daill’s accountant advised that she expend all the money from the loan, a good portion was used for essential renovations. The remainder went into ordering a new sign for the café.
“Oh, the sign! How could I forget that!” she silently shouted with shocked expression.
Daill nearly forgot about the reminder email from the signboard company. Her order would get postponed by weeks if she failed to respond in time. That was probably a lie, but it’s a classic sales tactic to pressure customers into rushed decisions. She blinked a couple of times before she took out her smartphone and typed her reply.
“Dailly Café — with a double l. That’s the name of the sign board. Thank you.”
It lacked originality, but it had to do. Anyway, she had no time to get creative now. And the more she said the name out loud — Dailly Café — the more she liked the ring of it. The name made some sense, albeit oddly spelled.
She hoped with the opening of her new shop that life would finally turn around for the better — especially after her traumatic divorce a year ago. She didn’t have any kids, but she lost her city flat. Her narcissistic ex even took their pet beagle Max.
“The lying, cheating jerk didn’t even like Max,” she mumbled, knowing her ex probably gave him away just out of spite. For fun, he used to throw his slippers at her poor beagle, who returned the favour by later peeing in his shoes.
“I hope Max pooed on his office shoes, too,” Daill thought vengefully.
Two Weeks Earlier
“Hello! Is anyone here?” asked a stranger standing at the front entrance.
Daill came out from the kitchen. “Yes, just a sec!”
An elderly woman, dressed in a simple, beige dress and white cardigan with a wide-brim summer hat stood by the entrance. The 9 AM sun was behind her, but it was bright enough inside for Daill to guess she was around her mom’s age.
“Good morning. What can I do for you?”
“I was on the way to the library and noticed your new shop, so I thought I might stop for a cup of coffee. But I see you’re still setting up,” replied the lady.
“Yes, sorry, but I open tomorrow.” Daill reached into her shirt pocket. “Here’s a voucher for a complimentary cup of coffee. Please do come again,” Daill offered with a genuine smile.
“Oh, thank you, dear! That is sweet of you,” the elder replied.
“Call me Daill — with two ls.”
“Hi, Daill with two ls,” she chuckled warmly. “I’m Delia.”
“Such a pleasure to meet you, Delia. I hope to see you back soon.”
As Daill watched her walk away, she could not help herself feel a tinge of excitement, one that she will eventually forget she ever had.
Then, suddenly, a pigeon just flew past outside, causing a brief flash of sunlight in the doorway. Some small opaque object lying at the entrance caught Daill’s eye. She walked over and kneeled down to pick up the rectangular shape. The thin and yellowish paper-like material looked well-aged with a smudge of dirt or two.
A bookmark? There were no visible inscriptions or design pattern on it. Delia must have dropped it just now, Daill told herself. I’ll keep it until next time I see her.
Little did Daill know that it would be the last time she ever saw Delia again.
[To be continued]
