*** # Excerpt from the Wisp ...  Surly Bob threw her an impatient glare and asked if she needed any help. The way he emphasized help made her think he meant mental help. Bara had been coming to the café since she’d been old enough to drink coffee. He still treated her like a stranger. She ignored his obvious disdain and ordered two Black Mountain Blends and a couple of croissants. While waiting for her order, she watched the backroom door for a sign of the new guy. It remained closed and any brooding teenage heart-throb hidden within and out-of-sight. None too swiftly and like he was doing her the greatest of favors, Surly Bob poured the coffees and bagged the pastry. Bara paid and stepped over to the condiment table. She took her time adding cream and cinnamon, maintaining an eye on the backroom door. Chimes rang again. Drusilla came in and sauntered over to the counter. Incidentally, she also watched the backroom door. She hemmed and hawed for what felt like a painfully long time, even to Bara, so to Surly Bob it was truly excruciating. Finally she said, “I’ll have a chai.” “A chai what?” Surly Bob rolled his eyes. Drusilla acted confused. Letting out enough air to inflate a balloon, Surly Bob sighed, “A chai tea? A chai latte? A chai muffin? What do you want? We gotta a lot of chai.” Drusilla pursed her mouth and put one hand on a hip. She’d had this planned. “Then why don’t you chai being nicer, dude?” Apparently no longer thirsty, she turned on her heels and flounced out of the café. Surly Bob’s face … priceless. Bara fought not to laugh. She couldn’t help smiling. He shot her another glare. Time to go. She took one last look at the backroom door. No dark teenage god appeared. She shrugged and went back out into the bright sunshine. The patio was empty. Both the Goths and Ragman were gone. Bara took a left and walked north, heading toward the tall clock tower looming ahead.