Sometime in 1799, when Fernsby town was yet to believe in coffee…
It was midday. The sun stood majestically high up in the sky shining down on the inhabitants of Fernsby town as they went about their activities. It was a quaint town; no one noticed the stranger in their midst except young Osborn who sat on a branch in a big mango tree.
The stranger, dressed in a brown coat, a black, flat-brimmed Stetson hat sat on his head, with a small bag on his shoulder and his boots dusty, trudged to the town's church.
Osborn scratched his head a little, squinting his eyes to catch a glimpse of the stranger's face from his vantage position. His eyes widened in shock. "I remember!" He whispered to himself, climbed down the tree and ran like a speedster to the sheriff's office.
"Hey, boy. Settle down," the sheriff said as Osborn babbled to him. "What are you trying to say?"
Osborn took a deep breath and tried again, pointing to the sketch of a bearded man with a Stetson hat pasted on the wall of the sheriff's office. "I saw him, sir. He's in the church now."
"You sure 'bout that, son? You saw the coffee serial killer?"
"Yes sir."
The sheriff took two constables with him and raced to the church on their horses.
Just like Osborn reported, the man who bore a striking resemblance to the sketch of the coffee serial killer sat in the first pew close to the altar, his hands locked together in prayers. Three parishioners were sitting separately in other pews. They turned to look at the sheriff and his team, except the stranger.
The priest hurried out of the vestry towards them. "Sheriff, this is the house of the Lord, not a place of violence," he huffed.
"I am sorry, father. We come in peace. You know that man over there?" He pointed to the stranger. The priest turned to look at the man whose head was bowed in prayer. Instantly, the man raised his head and glanced at them. The priest blanched. "Can he be the same person?" He asked the sheriff.
Everyone in town knew the story of the coffee serial killer when the young man came and tried introducing them to a new beverage called coffee. The governor denounced the drink and ordered the man to be arrested. The sheriff and his officers were unable to catch the man because he disappeared.
"I intend to find out," the sheriff replied the priest confidently.
The stranger stood and walked towards them. "Do I look familiar to you?" He asked them.
"Yes, you do. Are you new here?" The sheriff asked.
"This is my first time in this town. I came in search of my brother," he said and showed them a black and white picture of his identical twin brother.
"My word! That's your brother?" The priest asked.
"Yes, he's my twin actually and I've not heard from him for more than six months. The last letter he wrote to me indicates he travelled down to Fernsby."
The sheriff and his constables exchanged a look. "How do we know what you are saying is true? Look at this sketch."
The stranger frowned at the sketch and the title 'Fernsby Coffee Serial Killer' written on it. "What is this? My brother is no killer or serial at that. He travels from town to town selling coffee."
"Our investigation shows he tried to poison people with some brown powder he called coffee and our governor declared it dangerous. Ever since the announcement, he disappeared."
"Really?" The stranger said. "I know people fear the unknown but coffee is no poison. Many towns have come to adopt it as a beverage."
"Are they still alive after drinking?" A young lady asked the stranger. The sheriff turned to see some residents had come into the church to watch the scene.
"Yes, they are. I drink it too and I'm alive, ain't I? I have some with me if you are keen on trying it."
The priest, sheriff and some of the town's people glance at each other in confusion. The stranger made coffee and they all enjoyed the aromatic beverage.
The sheriff apologized to the stranger and asked him to pass it on to his twin brother if he finds him. The stranger thanked them and continued on his journey in search of his identical twin brother while spreading the love of coffee.
The End.
I'm happy to participate in this #STB Prompt 13 contest. I chose option one:
"There is a strange serial killer in the city that the papers have dubbed the "coffee bean killer." Tell us a story."