Art by Brooklynn Bourdeau

This is a "Tasting," a short-short story inspired by a tea I made at my tea company. This particular one is for the "Rolling Wave," a single-estate Indonesian black tea from Java. Normally, I suggest ordering a little bag of the tea to drink while reading the story, but this one's discontinued, so just enjoy this very short-short!

He stood atop the cliff-face staring down into oblivion. Nothing mattered, not since Kama died. A freak accident, everyone told him. It couldn’t be helped. But he knew better. He knew the gods were against him, punishing him for a childhood of ill deeds.

Seftia spent his youth torturing the native animals, picking fights, and doing everything possible to piss off the local authority. Everyone that showed him kindness was met with hostility for entertainment’s sake. He took joy in others’ misery.

That is, until Kamaruddin came into his life.

Kama was an infinitely kind man. He made no attempt to outdo anyone else, to seek glory or fame. His lot in life was tea. Kama’s family had owned a plantation for generations on the island nation of Sumatra, and they made the smoothest anywhere. They were known the country over for their tremendous tea. Kama was the first in his family to reject the inheritance of the farm.

His sister, Deasy, has chosen to take over the farm, dropping her dream of sailing to live on the farm. She took no particular umbrage to this, in fact, she’d made it a huge part of her identity in recent years.

Why did Kama reject his inheritance? He loved people too much. He couldn’t bear to sit on a farm and toil away like his ancestors did. So instead, he opened a tea house, sharing his tea, along with other country’s teas, with the people of their little village. He didn’t have much, just what fit on the carts of travelers.

When Kama came into Seftia’s life, it was by sheer happenstance. They ran into the road, and Sef put up his fists, looking to gain glory. Kama apologized, smiled, and walked away. When Sef confronted him, Kama offered him a cup of tea in his shop to pay for the accident.

What followed, Sef could only assume, was raw curiosity on his part. He went to the teahouse and had a cup. It calmed his nerves, brought him to level, and made him think. Suddenly, he was faced with a man who met all hostility with friendliness and understanding, and it made Sef curious. How does a man get to be so trusting of people? What does he get out of this?

Months passed with Sef stopping in to talk to him, gaining more and more insight. It was a year later that he noticed he hadn’t raised his fists in months. He hadn’t even insulted someone in weeks.

This pushed Sef to a mountaintop, kicking his feet against a cliff-face, staring out at the wilds of the island, thinking about who he was, where he wanted to go with his life. It struck him suddenly that Kama might have been the best thing to possibly happen to him. A random thought experiment taken to extreme levels. He felt happier than ever, more fulfilled, more content with life. That’s also when he realized he was hopelessly in love with this man.

He ran back to town and, out of breath, professed his love for the tea master, who promptly returned the feelings, saying he felt like he’d helped Sef turn into the man he wanted to be, but didn’t know how to be. They separated little after.

A little over a year later, disease swept the village. A local vendor had brought infected goods, which quickly infected the town. Everyone soon took ill and were bedridden if lucky, dead if not. Inside of three days, Kama went from brimming with life to bedridden, unable to rise, and soon after that, dead.

Sef stared out at the ocean from his cliff-side seat. The ocean cared not for his petty life, that he somehow escaped illness when this beautiful, perfect, selfless man was taken. It cared not that an innocent soul was taken for no good reason, nor the purified soul weeping over the endless waters. It continued to crash against the cliff, eroding away the ancient stone.

He thought back to those days spent in the shop, drinking Kama’s family teas, and how they healed him, fixed him, brought him humanity. Waves slammed into the rock below, and tears fell down the cliff, only to mix into the endless salty abyss.

Sef considered jumping, but the thought only brought him pain. In these last years, he’d become a better person, helping out his fellow citizens, learning of the teas that Kama brought in, and helping to serve them. He thought of only one fitting tribute to the death of his lover.

The ocean roared below him as he rose to his feet, walked back to town, went to the shop, and made a cup of their signature rolled black tea. He sipped it, breathed, and briefly wondered what he would do with the shop.