Another Day at Grassroots

Another day at the Grassroots Cafe.

Another paycheck I get in 9 days.

Another chunk of my life spent interacting with other insects I’d never see outside this place. Still, I know enough to ask Jineane, "So, about your parents' divorce... Is your mother really gonna get the beach house, or is that a myth?"

Workfriends.

I love them, I despise them, I relate to them. It's like having virtual siblings for 5 hours.

I don't mind being here, with the strong scents of earthy compost grounding me, and the occasional waft of fumes from the giants who drive vehicles above us. There's the sweet aroma of brewing nectar—necties, we call them. The seats, repurposed from rotting wood, are soft and cozy with their moss-covered tops. The lights above are really silver food wrappers the giants leave behind on the ground, but for us, they're the perfect source of ambience, especially when the sunlight hits just right.

"Anite," Jineane greeted me when I sped through the door. I went behind the counter to put on my roller skates. She helped me get them. Then she gave me a hug. "Girl, are you using that shampoo I recommended?" she cooed.

"Yup!" I replied, pulling on my skates. "For once, my skin didn't dry out."

"Told you," she smirked. "Now, about Elsie, word on the street is her grandmother is finally going to stand up to her daughter and take back the hive!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I hear she's joining the revolution!"

"Shut up! There's no way Elsie Beea is going to revolt when she herself squealed when a beetle spilled juice on her skirt." I rolled my eyes. Elsie and 'revolt' went together like—you know what? They don't belong in the same sentence.

"That's just her bad side," Jineane said, rubbing my hair and giving me an apron.

That's her bad side? Then...what's her good?

I stood up and took a gander at the cafe. Not too busy. But not quiet either. To my left, Elsie was icing moss cakes while gossiping with Sweather. To my right, a few finished orders were sitting in brown bags. I took them and placed them on a stick shelf outside the counter labelled "Pick Up/Mobile."

Then I went back and helped prepare orders. We were going at a good pace. Jineane took an order, then shouted it to the back, forgetting we were like 3 feet away from her. Elsie and I prepared the order while soothing aching antennae. We pushed it to Sweather, who added some garnish and called out the customer in her equally loud voice.

Again, we soothed our antennae and the cycle continued.

Some folks started coming through the door. A family of water striders, a ladybug couple, a bedbug businessman wearing a fedora and holding a briefcase. He took a table next to his associate. I couldn't get a good look at him because Jineane called me to help her with the cash register.

After unsticking it, I returned to my spot. Making sure Elsie was distracted with Sweather, I snuck a glance at the fancy bedbug and his associate. He looked up. I saw his face.

"No", I thought. He couldn't be here.

He could not be here.

It wasn't a matter of being embarrassed.

This man is wanted not by women but by the government. Time and time again, he's slipped behind the shadows, visiting homes with a knife in hand. Appearing in alleyways with a pistol drawn. Sitting at the table, slowly twirling his glass in his hand, watching the host across the table slowly start to sway, then THUNK!

Their head hits the plate. Screams. Chaos. The man disappears.

His being here means he’ll be ripped from my arms and sat in a chair, facing stern officials under one harsh spotlight...or maybe that's in the movies. However, in real life, I don't want to find out.

I went back behind the beechwood counter, taking in the sounds of my coworkers preparing orders to calm my nerves. I focused on the finished orders before me: Thistle brew coffee, fungi-wrapped croissants, berry mash with a honey drizzle, and a 2-For-Me deal! Bold are we?

I looked ahead, mapping my route from here to that table.

Balancing the plates—two stacked on one arm, one on my left hand—I skated across the lobby, pouring coffee, taking another order, hearing a complaint from one upset butterfly. My last order, the 2-For-Me, lay at the table where he was. I took a deep breath and slowly skated there, making sure not to disturb them.

"Here is your 2-For-Me deal!" I said sweetly, setting down the plates. I took a glance at the man and gave a quick wink. He nodded, reached into his bag, and thrust something into my hand. I smiled and skated back behind the counter.

The item in my hand was a crumpled leaf-note. I opened it. In quickly scrawled out letters, it said, "Don't worry. He's in on it."

What did he mean by "in on it"? Did this fancy bug sign up to get killed? Here?

"Whatcha looking at?" Jineane startled me. I dropped the note. She picked it up, read it, and looked at me weirdly. "Who is this, he?" she asked. I glanced at the man, my man, meeting with the fancy beetle. She looked my direction, then I pulled her down beneath the counter.

"Is that him, the killer?" Jineane whispered, horrified.

"He's not a killer, he's an assassin", I whispered back, as if that would solve things.

"He can't be here!"

We both looked up. They were still laughing and chatting like it was no big deal. I felt someone grab my shoulder and pull me right. It was Elsie.

"Hey, is that ant over there the killer boyfriend you were chatting about?" she whispered, gleefully.

"Uh—"

"You don't have to answer. I know it is!" She peered at him, then turned quickly to me, "Man, I'd love him to be my killer boyfriend."

"That's not the point," Sweather cut off her swooning. "An assassin here could be dangerous for—"

"Excuse me, miss."

A deep voice echoed from the counter.

Jineane turned around and froze. Two rhino beetles, clad in police uniforms. Their faces were neutral, a little pleasant, but no difference to us. It was like they intentionally heard our conversation and decided to have a listen.

Jineane didn't talk. I gave her a hard nudge.

"Oh, yes—uh," the cockroach strained for words. "W-welcome to Grassroots Cafe! H-How may I help you?"

The officer didn't reply immediately.

"I'm sorry, does she normally speak like this?" he asked Elsie.

"No, sir, she was just caught off guard", Elsie replied coolly, gesturing to us.

"Understood", the officer replied. He then looked up at the menu.

I don't understand how Elsie's so calm. Here I am, sweat building on my head, body somehow shielding warmth I didn't know I could sense.

While Jineane took their order, I kept stealing peeks and glances at my man and his client. I wanted to send out pheromones, twitch my antennae, maybe even bop him with them to alert him to the danger, but there were enough folks here to notice, and if they saw something that looked intimate, that won’t go down well for him or for me.

I looked to Jineane and clicked my mandibles 4 times, a secret code we created in high school. The message was for a distraction.

She rubbed her hands 3 times, which means 'are you sure.'

I nodded, and then picked up on her hesitation. I could see why she wouldn't be thrilled with the idea of distracting police officers from an actual killer. Although it wasn't just the thought of losing him that made me want to do this, it was the event itself. The image of officers violently arresting someone in front of patrons, families and children could shut us down, wipe us off the map. We could be charged, jailed, fined, or I'd be out of a job.

However, my man could leave. Someone could check the fancy beetle and find him dead. Questions would be flown around. I could be taken in for questioning, and held under that one lonely swinging light—

No no.

I shook it off.

Get a hold of yourself, Anite.

What did I learn at Colonary School? Stick with a plan, stay by a plan, don't let up. I shook my head and decided, yes, a plan. If I could do something, anything to keep the officers busy, then the meeting over at that table can finish, no hesitations, no setbacks.

"You overbrewed it", Elsie said, interrupting my thoughts.

I did.

I threw it out and started again.

"You too busy thinking about your man", she dreamed, putting her fists together, "thinking about what you're gonna do tonight?"

"Yep," I lied. "As soon as we finish serving these honorable servicemen."

"Honorable service men", she muttered, crafting another nectie to pass along. I finished the first one and slid it down.

"OH!", Elsie gasped, then she covered her mandibles, "You don't want him arrested", she whispered, a little loudly.

"Yes", I gritted.

"Ah, sugar, he won't be arrested! Who'd arrest an ant in a business suit?"

"A lot of officers", I replied, "Didn't you read that article about that one bug—"

"Two HOT NECTIES FOR—"

"Wait!" I yelled, stopping Sweather. Half the cafe paused to look at me. I blushed and waited for the moment to pass. It didn't. I was still being observed by a dozen eyes.

"We forgot to add the uh, the um...the, eh, lemme look at the order again", Jineane screamed at a tone seriously unneeded.

"What are you doing?" Sweather hissed, annoyed.

"Making sure the order is fixed", I replied innocently.

"It looks fine—"

"The policemen deserve a good drink", I said, slow and deliberate.

Jineane grabbed the drinks, added some stuff, then returned them to their trays. The policemen arrived, picked up their trays, thanked us, and moved on.

I eyed them as they sipped their necties, waiting for the moment. I caught one making a slight grimace, and he returned to the counter. "Excuse me, this nectie is a bit on the sweet side", he explained politely, "the sweetness is quite overpowering."

"I can fix that!", I replied. I took back the bad ones and tossed them. Then, I brewed new ones, this time adding only 2 shakes of pollen instead of the usual 6. "Here you go", I said to the officer, serving the drinks.

Across the cafe, the fancy beetle stood up. He turned and disappeared down the back hallway. Was he going to relieve himself?

He didn't come back for a minute.

Yes! This could buy us some extra time.

"What's going on?" Sweather appeared out of nowhere. She was holding two necties. "Oh, do I need to deliver those?" I asked.

"No, this is the second time the officers complained", Sweather explained, "This time, they're too bitter." She went to the sugar holder to add more sweetener, but Jineane stopped her.

"No, uh...not that!", she stuttered. She turned to look at me, expecting a script or something. I honestly didn't know what to say, so I improvised.

"Erm-yes! These officers expect culture from this place...not the usual!", I chirped, grabbing 3 spice packets and dumping them into the necties.

"What are you doing???" Sweather looked appalled. Jineane snatched the spiced drinks from her and re-served them onto the platter, this time with a mini cinnamon stick.

The officers were waiting at the pickup counter. When they saw the drinks, they didn't seem too enthused. They stared for a moment, expecting something to pop out, but when they noticed the cinnamon stick, they nodded and took the drinks.

The fancy beetle was back, continuing his discussion with my man. When I looked across the way, I saw his antennae twitch erratically. He tried to brush them. It didn't work. He stood up and made his way out the door.

"Excuse me, madam?"

The officers!

I jumped, startled as I turned to face them. "Is there something wrong with the drink?" I asked gently.

"No ma'am", one officer replied, "I came to tell you this recipe is fantastic!"

Fantastic.

Fantastic???

That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Yes", the other continued, "It's really good. I don't know what you added, but this is phenomenal. The cinnamon stick really made it come together! Who should we tip?"

He pulled out some blanch-leaf bank notes. I froze, staring at the tip money like it was cookie crumbs from my mother. I looked towards Jineane, who was icing a roll. "Jineane! TIP CALL!" I shouted.

She raced to the front, eyes wide. She took the tip money, trying and failing to hold herself together.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Jineane and I cheered together.

"Have a great day, ladies", the officers smiled. They soon left the building. I stared at that door for a second, then I let out a huge sigh I didn't know I was holding.

The next second, I was hugging Jineane, shoulders shaking, laughter taking hold.

"Girl, I thought we were done for", I laughed, hugging Jineane tightly.

"I'm still shocked we got away with it", she replied, wiping a tear away.

I looked at the table with the fancy beetle. He was still there, on the phone, probably calling someone. My man wasn't back yet. Maybe the cinnamon was too strong? I looked back at Jineane. She wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, she looked a bit troubled.

"What's the matter?" I asked, releasing her.

She showed me the notes. One of them had a message scrawled inside. It said, "I told you not to worry, remember? He's in on it."

I squinted at the message. How did they know? How could they possibly know when all they've given my man was a glance or two? They seemed more focused on the terrible necties.

I went back to the front because a couple was waiting. I took their order, still mulling the note in my head.

Was he caught? I couldn't leave to find out. I'd have to talk to him. After finishing the order, I delivered it to the couple, then I skated to the table with the beetle under the guise of charging the tab.

He was still on the phone. My heart was pounding in my chest, so much so that I didn't immediately hear when he was calling my name.

"Ms Anite?"—for the third time.

"Ah, sir, I am so sorry. Are you...mmm sorry, are you satisfied with your service?" I was stumbling over my words.

"Yes ma'am, and don't be", he replied warmly, "The service here was fantastic."

"Glad to be of service", I beamed.

He looked at me a moment longer, mouth sharpening into a wicked grin, "I know it can be a scare when you see someone you're not supposed to recognize."

That caught me off guard. "I-I don't follow."

"I heard the officers congratulating your recipe", he continued, "interesting, being that you used cinnamon. Trying to save my life?"

I blinked.

"Don't worry", he laughed, "it was a nice game to play." He slipped a note into my hand as I gave him the tab. Shocked, I skated back behind the counter. I unfurled the note and read it. Stopped.

I read it again, and then a third time, trying to make sense of it. For a moment, I just stared at it, heat building in my cheeks. Then I crumpled the note and threw it into the nectie-maker.

"What did he say?", Elsie asked. She looked concerned. I didn't answer.

Sweather fished the note from the nectie-maker. It was a little damp but still readable. They read it. They gave each other looks. Elsie covered her mandible and stifled a giggle. Then Jineane exploded in all-out laughter. Even Sweather gave a small smirk.

I know I probably shouldn't have tossed the note in there, but you would too if you read it:

"Hope I made work interesting! [smiling face]."

I am going to crush him.

After my shift.