Ghosts In My Coffee

Ghosts In My Coffee

by Rod Jones Artist-Writer

Billy’s rough calloused hand reached for the white porcelain valve handle on the gas stove. In his other hand, he held a match that he pulled from the wall-mounted match stick holder. He took great pride in being able to light the match by striking it, using just his thumb and forefinger, while simultaneously turning on the gas and lighting the stovetop burner. As always, there was the smell of the wafting ignited gas before the burner fully ignited.

It was Billy’s customary morning routine to perk his coffee on the stove. He had been using his old stovetop percolator for a good 10 years. His favorite coffee was Eight O’Clock. Tasted good, great price, and it was very popular with people on a budget. When he could get it, he often opted for Chase and Sanborn coffee. He thought it was richer, at least when he drank it. He felt like he was one of those fancy coffee drinkers downtown having their morning coffee, eating expensive pastries, and talking with their friends. That was an experience that Billy always strived for, but never quite fit in.

The coffee finished perking. Billy pulled his favorite coffee mug off an open shelf. The one that had a six-point sheriff's badge. The cup was given to him by a fellow deputy sheriff.  Before time and age caught up with him, Billy worked as a small-town deputy sheriff in northern Nevada. Now he pretty much stayed home, living off a very modest pension. Billy did not complain too much about it, the depression was slowly coming to an end, and the United States was on the threshold of World War II. His sheriff's pension did not afford him many opportunities to do anything else but have his morning coffee out of the cup that he had always hoped he could paint his name on. Billy just stared out the window. Something was about to change all that for Billy, and it all started with this particular morning cup of coffee.

Billy set his piping hot cup of coffee on the small table by the kitchen window. The sun was shining in and he could see the steam coming off the coffee. Before he sat down to drink his steaming coffee, today was one of those days he thought he’d add a teaspoon of sugar in it as a special treat. He went to pull the spoon out of a drawer and grabbed a small mason jar that he kept his sugar in. Turning around and walking back to the table he sat the sugar and spoon down. Something caught his eye in that cup of coffee. There seemed to be an unusual amount of steam coming off the cup.

Billy sat down and just watched the steam coming off the coffee. It was easy to see because it was lit by the light coming in from the window.

“Something doesn’t seem quite right about this cup of coffee.” Billy was thinking, while he was staring into the cup he just poured. “Maybe I won’t add any sugar. I never saw a cup give off all these vapors. I wonder how this could be?”

The coffee was indeed wafting an usual amount of steam. It almost looked like it was on fire somehow. Billy decided to get a closer look. He couldn’t see any harm in looking down into the cup to see what was going on. Billy was aggressively fanning away the steamy vapors. Billy had to get pretty close to the coffee to see what was going on. His eyes weren’t as good as they used to be.

“Smells OK, the cup feels plenty hot. But something just ain’t right with it. Maybe this batch of coffee was bad. I know I made it the same way I always do. So, I certainly didn’t do anything wrong. Something just ain’t right here. never had a cup weirdly behave like this.”

Billy kept staring at the cup. The more he tried to fan away the steam, it just seemed to hang around the cup. Another thing that was extremely puzzling to him is it just wasn’t cooling down. It was just as hot as when he poured it. He thought maybe it was time to get closer to the coffee cup and try and look down into it. Rapidly pushing away the steamy vapors with his hand, he managed to look down into the cup. What he saw was curiously frightening. Billy saw the image of a small boy that looked to be around nine or ten years old. The boy was staring at Billy and raising his hands in a beckoning fashion. He was somewhat accustomed to seeing unusual things, especially being a Nevada sheriff.

“What are you doing in my cup of coffee, young man? That ain’t no place for a kid.”

Billy was rubbing his eyes and looking into the cup with disbelief. First, he thought to himself, “Why am I talking to some kid in a cup of coffee? There’s either something wrong with this coffee, or there’s something wrong with me, but one thing for sure, this ain’t normal.”

Billy leaned back in his chair for a minute, trying to decide if he was just seeing crazy things, and if it was his imagination. He had to look again. This time, the kid in the cup started talking to Billy, at least Billy could hear him. Billy did not at first recognize the kid or his voice, but it became more clear as the kid in the cup started to talk.

“Billy, it’s me, don’t you recognize me?

Puzzled as could be, Billy had no idea who this kid was, other than it was damn frightening and damn curious at the same time, the kid did not look like anyone he had seen before.

“OK, who are you? What are you doing in my coffee? What kind of trick is this?”

“I’m Billy, I’m you when you were nine years old. Remember back, you and I, well I should say you, went swimming in that little lake by the Zadell’s farm. You were warned not to go in that water, but you did anyway. This time things did not go well. Something grabbed you and pulled us under. Unfortunately, you drowned. Our parents and everyone in town, and the farmers looked for you everywhere there was no trace, not even the clothes you left behind on the beach. I’m sorry to tell you this Billy but you are long dead.“

“What do you mean I’m dead? I’m sitting here minding my own business. Trying to have my morning coffee and you show up. You do kinda look like me as best I can remember. But who are you fooling? I must be losing my mind, but I do remember that pond. I went there often, even though I wasn’t supposed to. I never told anyone that I went in that water. So if I’m dead and gone, what am I doing here in the shack of the house, drinking my coffee out of my sheriff’s mug? I know I was a sheriff, everyone respected me. They looked up to me. I did good work in the community I served.

By now, all of the steam that was coming off the cup of coffee was gone. Billy had a clear view into the cup. He could easily see the young boy, and he could easily hear the young boy talking to him.

“I ain’t buying your story kid, I don’t know who you are, and I sure as hell don’t know why you’re talking to me here and now, seems to serve no purpose, except making sure I’m not getting my morning coffee. If I’m so dead, why are you even here talking to me? Shouldn’t I be with the angels or maybe that other place way down? And while I’m at it, what grabbed me and held me under so I drowned?”

“You were warned time and time again not to go swimming in that pond. There was a creature living there. You’re not the only one who lost their life there. I can’t tell you much about that creature cause I don’t know myself. I just know that was the reason we drowned.”

“Well, if what you’re telling me is even half true, now what? If I ain’t supposed to be here, then where am I supposed to be? Heaven or Hell.”

“There’s going to be a great war, Billy. It’s going to impact much of the world when all is said and done. It’s going to be called World War II.”

“Well, if I’m dead, what does it have to do with me? Even though I’m pretty sure I’m not dead.”

“Billy, go over to your door and open it, look outside, and tell me what you see?”

Billy went over to the door and opened it.

“I don’t see a damn thing. Everything is gone. Everything is white like a white fog. Where the hell is everything?”

Billy went back to his cup of coffee, looked in again, and said,

“If I’m no longer here, and I’m dead and gone, why are there ghosts in my coffee? If you’re me when I was nine years old, then who am I, huh? ”

“I’m going to explain everything to you Billy. I actually grew up. I did not drown, but you did. The family ended up moving to England. That’s where I primarily grew up. You were me, actually you still are in some sense. You have been held in a state of limbo, a parallel universe.”

“What the hell is a limbo state? What do you mean by whatever you said universe?”

“The best way I can explain it as a nine-year-old, is you are in neither world. The world that you’ve come to know really for you did not exist. Think of it as if you were in a stage play. You were living, but not in the human sense.”

“Well, what the hell boy! This is nothing more than a bunch of road-apples! I’m going to pour the cup of coffee you’ve been talking to me from down the toilet and give it a good flush. I don’t need this nonsense. I’m already thinking that I’m crazy and you’re pushing it along.”

“OK but before you do, you should hear me out, it’s rather important. You’re going to find yourself in England. You will have a faint memory of having this conversation. When you thought you lived as a sheriff and you wore a uniform, now you’re going to be wearing a British soldier's uniform. In the not-too-distant future World War II is going to break out. There’s something that you’re going to do for a man called Winston Churchill. Believe it or not the universe has been saving you specifically for this task, using the tricks and tactics you learned as a country sheriff. Those tactics are embedded deep within your subconscious and are going to become critical in helping England survive this horrible war. For that matter, save much of the world.”

“You gotta be kidding me. That all sounds pretty far-fetched and quite frankly stupid. Why can’t I just have my coffee and stare out the window like I usually do? Hell, I may quit drinking coffee altogether, ghosts or no ghosts in it. How can you say I drowned? How can you say, you are me? How can you say, I’m gonna have something to do with some damn war? If this is some kind of joke or magic trick being put on me, it ain’t funny. I’m gonna pour this cup of coffee down the toilet right now.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea Billy. I will reach out to you again in London. When we meet up. People will say we look like brothers. I suppose in a strange sense we are.”