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justimagineitblog · 4 years

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“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 10

A/N: Alright this one broke and mended my heart all at once while I was writing it - goddamn these characters hahahahaha.

WARNINGS: Swearing, Violence, Guns, Death, Alcohol -

I know I’ve used swear words in previous chapters but this one is quite heavily riddled with it, I also thought I’d warn that there are mentions of death in this one my loves - it’s nothing too full on and I don’t go into heavy descriptions but I just felt like this one needed a warning just incase x

As always, please enjoy xx

As the alarm goes off, Charlie and I both jolt awake in bed. It only takes a few moments to realise that it’s almost half an hour past when we were supposed to be up.

“Fuck!” He shouts as he jumps out of the bed, ripping the sheets back. He’s going on a work trip this weekend with his brother, and if the time on the clock is correct, then the car should be pulling up any moment.

I tear myself out of the bed after him, frantically running around with him to help him get ready.

“Charlie your suit case is in here!” I call as I hear him fumbling around my apartment for his luggage. He runs back into the room, tearing through the cupboards for his suit.

He strips naked right in front of me, and I can’t help but laugh at how much of a mess this is as I try and help him get his suit on.

“He’s gonna kill me if I’m late” he stresses, his hands desperately trying to do up his buttons but he fails. This is a big weekend for their business. If he’s late or messes his up, I know how horrible he will feel about it for a long time.

“Hey, just breathe okay, let me do this” I coo, swatting his hands away as I do his buttons up for him.

He nods, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath. Once his shirt is buttoned up he takes off again, scurrying around gathering all his paper work, luggage and some how wriggling his shoes on. We both jump in fright as the beeping of a horn below signals that his car is here.

Swearing repeatedly, he runs to the door, but freezes right before he walks out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he breathes, turning back to me with a shaking his head.

“Stop, it’s okay” I promise him, my hands on his chest as I straighten his tie and jacket “You’re gonna be amazing”

With a relieved smile, he presses his lips against mine. I hold his face, trying to soak up as much of him as I can.

“I’ll miss you, don’t get in any trouble while I’m gone eh?”

“Me?” I furrow my brows “I have no idea what you’re talking about”

He laughs, pulling me in for another kiss.

“Okay, okay you have to go” I chuckle as the car horn continues to beep downstairs. He gives me a few last pecks and before I know it he’s gone, running down the hallway, leaving me flustered in his wake.

I run over to the window, watching as he gets in the car and gives me one last wave. I return the gesture, blowing him a kiss that he pretends to catch as the car pulls away and disappears from my sight.

Slinking back through my apartment I collapse lazily back into my bed, arms and legs flailed in every direction as I fall back asleep.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON

“Hello?”

“Hi you”

I smile as Charlie’s voice speaks like honey through the phone line.

“Miss me already?” I tease.

“Most definitely” he replies, when suddenly the sound of excitement and hollering fills the phone.

“The deal went well then?” I chuckle at his excitement.

“The deal went… incredibly,” he begins, trying to speak over the mens in the background “Actually, we made an ever bigger deal than we originally planned on… they want to financially support the entire business, Izzy”

“Oh my god, Charlie, that’s amazing!” I exclaim

“I was gonna wait to tell you when I got home but… Izzy I think we’re going to move up here”

My jaw drops as I press the phone closer to my ear to make sure I heard him right. When I don’t reply, he begins to fill in the blanks eagerly.

“They want us to move up here Izzy, they want to support us and the whole business-“

The weight of what he’s actually saying begins to wash over me as a million questions leap and bound through my mind.

“Charlie-“ I stutter “You’ve been there for 5 hours” I blurt out, glancing at the clock. 5 hours. That’s barely enough time to decide you want to move 3 hours away. Permanently.

“I know, I know, but we just made the biggest deal of our lives… I’ve gotta follow this Izzy”

“Oh my god” I breathe, trying to sound excited but doing an absolutely horrid job of hiding my shock.

“That’s not why I wanted to call you though, I think I have a proposition for you” I hold my breath. So far, I couldn’t have predicted this conversation even if I tried. I have no idea what is about to come out of his mouth.

“Well you see, I told him I wasn’t moving up here unless they set us up with a proper home because…” He takes a deep breath before blurting out his next words “I want you to come with me, Izzy”

The second the words leave his mouth I freeze. Go with him. Did he just ask me to move away with him? Move three hours away? Away from my home. The place I grew up. Away from my job. Away from the Shelby’s.

“Izzy? Izzy are you there? What do you think?” I hear his muffled voice asking through the phone as I snap back into reality. Heat rises up my neck and over my face as I fumble for my words.

“What do I think?” I echo his words. I don’t know what I think. Actually, I’m thinking way to much.

“I know it’s a lot. You don’t have to pack your bags right now. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home”

Pack my bags?

My breath quickens as do my racing thoughts and heart rate.

“Okay, I have to go!” he rushes quickly as the shouting and hollering behind him gets louder, urging him to go and join the celebrations.

And just like that, the phone line goes silent. I stand in the lurch for minute after minute trying to digest what just happened. I fumble for a chair, trying to steady myself as I sit down. The whole conversation was such a rush and a whirlwind that I feel physically light headed.

We’ve only been together for a month.

But if I don’t move away with him, is that the end of us? We would hardly be able to visit one another during the week. And even weekends aren’t always free. Between both of our work schedules, how would we ever make time. Three hours away. That’s no short trip. If anything happened back here, I wouldn’t be able to get back in a hurry. What if Tommy got into trouble? And Arthur? What if Polly needed me? And then the most regretful, dreaded thought crosses my mind. What about Michael?

I feel physically ill. I can’t move. I can’t do this. The phone that’s rested in my lap begins to ring obnoxiously, frightening me so badly I almost throw it clean across the room. Maybe I should. Maybe I should break the goddamn thing.

“Shit” I hiss, running a hand through my hair as my heart pounds so hard it feels like it might just jump straight out of my chest.

I yank the phone towards my ear, completely exhausted and flustered.

“Izzy? Darling it’s Polly”

I sigh, trying to calm myself down enough to sound somewhat normal and coherent.

“Hi Poll, what’s up?”

“Look don’t panic, we just need you to come down here okay”

The tight nervousness of her voice snaps me straight out of my cloudy, foggy state.

“Polly what’s going on?” I reply urgently, standing up from my chair in a panic.

“It’s alright. Just come down to the office okay? We’ve got a client here and-” she pauses as voices in the background get louder and I strain desperately to hear who is there “We just need you to go over some things”

“I’m coming now” I hang up the phone immediately.

Something isn’t right.

I race out the door without my coat, my hand bag, anything. I don’t even bother trying to be subtle as I run through the streets, tearing my way through people and around corners until I see the office ahead. As I get closer the fear in the pit of my stomach grows bigger and bigger.

Polly never sounds like that. What the hell is going on. What am I about to find inside.

The sound of sudden shouting from inside sends a crashing wave of fear and adrenaline through me as I burst into the office through the back door. What I find when I walk in sends my stomach into back flips. I freeze, almost tripping over my own feet from stopping to abruptly.

All heads shoot towards me. Tommy, Arthur, Polly and Michael. They look terrified, there eyes wide with panic as they’re stood at the edges of the room, their backs practically up against the walls. And it doesn’t take me long to figure out why. My eye’s immediately fall over a man stood in the middle of the room.

He’s standing amidst the office desks which have been flipped and smashed all over the floor. Paper is thrown everywhere. I would call him a stranger, but he’s not. I know this man. We all know this man. He is a client. Bill Rodgers.

I have seen him a few times. Met with him. Met his wife and children. He pays donations to us once a month, in return, we look after his family if they ever need anything. A simple agreement. We do that for a lot of families around here. He’s never been overly warm. But friendly enough. And I don’t know him incredibly well. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realise there is something wrong. Besides the fact that the office is a mess. With chairs, desks and tables scattered across the room. Paper work everywhere. Bill stands in the middle of it all.

His doing I assume.

And he is completely wasted. I can smell it on him. All the way from the door way, my nose catches the distinct smell of whiskey. It almost fills the room. You have to drink bottles of whiskey, or spend days on end inside of a pub to smell like that. Even the way he stands, head to the floor, grumbling, swaying. Muttering to himself. But that’s not even the most concerning thing. No. The most concerning thing about Mr Rodgers is not his drunken stupor.

But the pistol that he is clutching in his hand.

I swallow hard when I see it. I glance to the floor, where I realise they have placed all of their guns.

He must have demanded them to drop their guns.

What I cannot figure out, about Bill, is what the hell he wants. He has never caused any trouble. Never gotten in trouble with the law. Never betrayed us. What the hell is doing here in a drunken rage with a gun?

“Bill,” Tommy begins, his arms outstretched to him “This is Isabelle”

I glance nervously at Tommy as he signals for me to come over to stand beside him. I rush over to his side, and he steps in front of me ever so slightly. Bill looks up at me gravely, through the disheveled hair falling in his face. I try to hold his eyes, staying calm and gentle. In his state, anything could set him off.

“And what is she gonna do about it huh?” He growls “They’re dead Tommy”

“Bill-“

“No, Tommy” he shouts “I pay you donations every month, yeah, and you look after my family in return. BUT THEY’RE GONE! THEY’RE GONE TOMMY!” His voice grows louder as he waves his arms in the air, and we all take a few steps back as we watch the pistol in his clutch nervously.

Tommy opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.

“Bill,” I say gently and he shoots his eyes in my direction “Just tell me what happened, and I can help you. Whatever you need. But I have to know how to help you first”

He stares at me, reluctantly, angrily, before something seems to give.

“They’re dead” He breathes “Sarah, and my boys. I was out, and the house was robbed. They stole everything and killed my fucking family”

My heart drops. He lost his family. All of them. This man is hurting. He is in pain. We are supposed to provide protection. His house being robbed is something none of us could have prevented, or helped, but he has just lost his entire family, and he’s looking for someone to blame.

I can’t believe my own actions when I find myself walking slowly towards him. I feel everyone in the room tense, as I do. This man may normally be harmless, but right now he is intoxicated and armed. And I’m walking straight into it.

“Izzy, don’t” I hear Tommy’s voice hiss so silently I almost miss it. But I ignore him.

“Bill, we can help you okay” I take another slow, weary step towards him treading so lightly I barely make a sound “We can find the men who did this, but I just need you to put your gun down for me”

He sways, seeming to lose his stability. The whiskey coursing through him right now must be making him see double.

Suddenly he bursts into sobs, and I almost jump out of my skin. He sinks to the floor, falling among the debris in a pile of sobs and cries.

Keeping my eyes firmly glued on the gun, I lower myself to his level.

“No one can help me” he whimpers in between cries.

“We can help you, I promise” I breathe, the stench of whiskey slapping me in the face and burning my nostrils as I shuffle closer and closer. I’m only inches away from him. Close enough to reach out and take the gun from his lose grip. With one head in his hands, and the other hanging by his side, he’s so distraught I don’t even think he would notice.

I hear feet shuffling around me, as they all begin to reach for their guns just incase.

I hold my breath, praying over and over again silently to myself as I extend my arm. My hand shaking as I close in on the pistol.

But the second my skin touches his, my hand brushing the pistol ever so slightly as I almost grab a hold of it, it sets him off like a match igniting a bomb. His giant stature lurches upwards as he roars with rage. Happening all to fast for me to comprehend, or even try to escape, he shoves me with a brute force that I’ve never felt before. He pummels me, bashing me up against the wall, the back of my head colliding with it so loudly against it that I think I black out momentarily as everything goes white. My ears, are ringing, piercing and loud and I only just begin to comprehend what’s happening when I feel his hands around my throat.

His forehead is pressed roughly against mine, his thick breath hot and drenched in pungent alcohol as his chest rises and falls heavily. I grab at his hands, clawing desperately to try and pry them off as his grip tightens. He shakes me like a rag doll, shoving me so harshly into the wall that I’m just waiting for it to give way. He stares at me with rage, with ferocity that I have never seen before. Frozen, paralysed in fear, all I can do is stare back into them.

The sound of gun chambers cocking all around us catches his attention, and suddenly I’m being pulled away from the wall. He spins me around, and the blow to my head as well as lack of oxygen disorients me completely. It’s not until I feel the burning of cold metal against my temple that I come back to my senses. Bill is stood behind me, one arm around my chest to keep me still, my back pressed against him. The other hand, is pressing the barrel of his pistol against the side of my skull.

I stiffen immediately, not even breathing as he faces me towards the Tommy, Arthur, Polly and Michael, who all have their guns aimed at him.

“PUT THE FUCKING GUNS DOWN OR I’LL BLOW HER BRAINS OUT ALL OVER THESE WALLS” He screams at them, his booming voice almost defeating me in one ear as he presses the pistol harder against my head.

Tommy, Polly and Arthur drops their guns to the floor immediately.

But Michael doesn’t budge.

Our eyes lock, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so terrified. He is completely pale, all the blood drained from his face as he aims the gun at Bill’s head.

“Just put the gun down” I whimper, and he shakes his head frantically, refusing to.

“Let go of her” he growls through clenched teeth, his voice cracking and shaking.

My ears prick as Bill cocks the gun, the chamber clicking.

“An eye for an eye huh,” Bill breathes, beginning to sob again “I fucking kill her and then we’re even for you not protecting my fucking boys”

“Bill let her go” Tommy warms, holding his arms out to him “We are going to find the men that did this and when we do, they are going to get what they deserve. But this…” she shakes his head “This isn’t the answer”

My eyes dart from Tommy back to Michael, who has not moved an inch, gun still aimed.

“I TOLD YOU TO PUT THAT FUCKING GUN DOWN” Bill shouts at Michael, completely ignoring Tommy’s words.

“Michael” I plead desperately, dread washing over me so heavily that I feel ill. I watch as he shakes his head, refusing. His wide open, panic strike eyes have turned glassy, and I can feel tears stinging and biting at my own eyes.

“It’s okay,” I breathe, giving him the smallest nod I can manage with the pistol against my head “Just put it down”

His eyes flicker between me and Bill, and I have to fight to not release a harsh exhale of relief as he lowers his gun to the ground.

“There you go Bill, all the guns are down, now let us talk to you eh?” Tommy negotiates, trying to sound as calm and gentle as he can. But I can see his palpating jaw. His tense body. The veins in his neck bulging from holding his breath. He is the furthest thing from calm.

For a moment I feel Bill’s grip loosen, and in my peripheral I can see the pistol fall away from my head as his arms falls to his side.

He’s letting his guard down.

I shut my eyes, taking a shaky breath in through my nose.

“You’re going to find them” he growls his orders at Tommy “And when you find them, I’m going to kill them”

“Bill…” Tommy shakes his head, trying to be as polite as possible “Bill I can’t let you do that. If you kill them, they’ll only send you to jail… just let us take care of it-“

“TAKE CARE OF IT!” He screams, and I can’t help a whimper from escaping my mouth “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF MY FAMILY. BUT YOU DIDN’T-“

Tommy opens his mouth, to try and say anything that will calm him, appease him. But once bill has been set off, there is no taming the fire that is his rage. I should have known. There is no reasoning with a drunk man.

With a grieving man.

“No, no, this is your fault” I feel him nodding his head behind me as he points the gun at all of them “This is your fault, and you’re the ones who are going to fucking pay. YOU’RE ALL GOING TO FUCKING PAY”

His cry is the one of a final war cry, and I know what’s coming next.

The next moments of my life feel like they are in slow motion. Suddenly the barrel of the gun is pressed straight up against my head again as he shoves it against my temple. The last thing I see is Tommy, Polly, and Arthur lunging forward, all shouting and begging for Bill to stop before it’s to late.

This is it. This is the last thing I’m going to hear. The last thing I’m going to feel is the end of a pistol pressed again my skull, before I feel nothing at all. Please let it be painless.

A single gun shot fires into the atmosphere.

I expect nothingness. More black. Maybe heaven. Or hell. Though I’m not ever sure if I believed in God.

But I feel myself breathing, my chest still rising and falling. I hadn’t even realised I had squeezed my eyes shut when they shoot open to find myself still in the office.

I’m alive.

The first thing I see is Michael. His gun aimed not at me, but at where Bill had been standing.

It wasn’t Bill’s gun that fired. It was Michael’s.

Bill is dead.

Everything washes over me all at once. Relief. Horror. Fear. Adrenaline. My head is pounding, and entire body feels like I’m floating. Completely weak and empty. Not strong enough to stand, and having lost all feeling in my body, I feel myself collapsing to the floor.

Right before I hit the ground, I find myself falling right into a pair of arms. All noise is muffled, and I feel completely numb as I almost completely pass out for a moment. The only thing I can hear is the throbbing and pounding of my head. It’s not until I come back around moments later that I realise whose arms I’m in.

They’re familiar arms. Strong. Firm. I’ve felt this exact grip before. They way the seem to hold me together. I thought I had forgotten how they felt. But I still know them anywhere.

Michael.

He scoops me up with desperation, and I don’t know who is clinging on to who as he holds onto me like its his life that depends on it. The only thing stopping me from crashing to the floor is him. His arms has envelope me completely, engulfing me in like a safety net. Wrapping me up in a way that I’ve only ever experienced with Michael.

My body and mind still completely disoriented, I find myself only being able to cry. That’s the only thing that comes out. With my face buried in his chest, he holds the back of my head, pressing me so close to him I can barely even breath. But I don’t care. I’m alive.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you” He chants frantically against my ear, and I can’t tell who he is trying to calm down more. Me or himself.

Beneath his chest, I can hear his heart racing. It pounds loudly against my ear. His grip on me never lets up, he doesn’t budge whatsoever. He just holds me. Let’s me sob, staining through his shirt. Everything else fades out. Everything seems to go away. Not just Bill’s attack. It’s like the last few months haven’t even happened. Nothing else matters right now except for the fact that I’m in his arms.

I feel a pair of trembling hands on my face and when I look up I find my eyes opening into Michael’s. His eyes are wide, panic filled and pooling with tears. As we stare at one another, it’s almost like he can’t quite believe I’m in his arms right now. Even though it’s over now, he still has residue terror all over his face. I know he thought that he was about to lose me for good. Forever.

Up until now I’ve barely been able to take a full breath or even begin to stop hyperventilating. But something about the hold his eyes have on me begins to centre me. I feel myself being grounded. Like I’m coming back to my surroundings. Those serene blue eyes give me something to anchor to as the panic slowly but surely leaves my system.

Without even meaning to we find our foreheads pressed to each others, his grip on my face still firm.

“Look at me” his voice is barely a whisper, as it shakes, threatening to break completely “You’re safe”

Pulling me back into a hug, he grips onto me so tightly as if I’m going to disappear if he doesn’t. And I don’t want him to let go, because I feel like I might just break and crumble if I don’t have him holding all my pieces together.

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michaelfallcon · 4 years

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Voices Of The Global Coffee Supply Chain Respond To COVID-19

For the third and final of our latest series of reader polls on how COVID-19 is impacting the specialty coffee world—the first specifically for baristas and the second for the coffee consuming public—we ditched the more statistical approach in favor of in-depth individual answers. The results look a lot more like a survey than a poll—they are truly revealing, equal parts hopeful and gut-wrenching.

This survey was open to anyone whose employment pre-COVID fell within the coffee supply chain, anywhere in the world. To make sure the responses truly represented the global community, the survey was presented in a total of eight different languages: Arabic, Chinese, English, French, Italian, Korean, Portuguese, and Spanish.

The responses we received, nearly 170 in total, reflect both the transcontinental nature of coffee, the chain of hands that take a tiny ripe little cherry from oceans away and turn it into the beverage in your cup. Representing a total of 30 countries across six continents, we received thoughtful answers from producers, exporters, importers, green buyers, roasters, cafe owners, and baristas. Over the course of three rather open prompts, we wanted to find out, generally, how COVID-19 has changed life for those who make their lives in and around coffee.

We are reprinting a selection of those responses in full below. All answers were given anonymously. We have included each respondent’s country of residence and job title for context.

Some answers have been lightly edited and condensed for clarity.

How has the pandemic impacted your workplace?

All of us are doing our best and working from home; only key production personnel are authorized to be at the roastery to prepare wholesale orders or quantities for our coffee shops’ consumption. — Commercial Manager at a cafe/roastery, Bahrain

We had to shut down our shop in high season two weeks ago. No seating, no terrace, and kitchen closed. We opened a kiosk the next day selling coffee beans and take-away coffee. We keep a high safety standard for customers and staff to create a secure environment. Fortunately one of our regulars runs a drug store and provides us with disinfectant and masks. Everything seems to be unreal in our good old shop but our customers really appreciate what we do. All catering and coffee courses are canceled until December. — Cafe/roastery owner, Germany

The impact is still unfolding. Uganda has introduced a number of lock-down measures that are already impacting the poorest of the poor, the people with whom we work. Movements have been stopped, public and private transport cancelled. The motorbike riders are out of work, people in the villages where we work can’t get to health centers for safe delivery of babies, treatment of other illnesses. Although exports of goods are still permitted (and we still have committed customers at the moment in the US/UK/Korea for which we are so thankful), processing factories—mills, warehouses, etc—are heavily restricted. This is already leading to delays to orders. We hope it doesn’t lead to cancellations.

As a project we’ve always committed to pay our farmers cash on delivery, so we’re grateful that all our payments on the mountain are cleared. Our farmers and workers have all been paid for the season. However, as a project we absolutely now rely on our buyers coming through so that we can receive payments for the coffee and clear our business loans… We’re really hoping that we can get our orders out, that we can agree terms with our buyers that help them out, which allow us to support our farmers at a time when they need us most. — Director of a Producer Organization, Uganda

In New Zealand, all cafes, restaurants, retail shops, etc. are completely closed. We are primarily a wholesale coffee supplier direct to cafes, we don’t supply mainstream supermarkets, only a few boutiques. We do have a web store for direct to consumer sales but the lockdown restrictions stopped us from offering coffee online too, as roasters were only able to continue supply to essential supermarkets, not to home drinkers. Thankfully the online sales restriction was lifted after 9 days of shutdown, so we at least have that now. But volume wise, we are doing 90-95% less than we usually do, as almost our entire customer base is closed down. The lockdown is scheduled for 4 weeks, depending on the situation it may get extended. Even when it is lifted we will likely have a period of non-essential closures, takeaway only etc. Our borders will probably remain closed or essentially closed for months to come meaning next to no tourism (a huge industry in our country) so less coffee drinkers around in general. And it is likely that a lot of our wholesale customers may not reopen after this.

For what it’s worth I am completely supportive of the shutdown and after 12 days it appears to be effective, the curve is flattening. But it undoubtedly has a heavy impact on hospitality that will be hard to recover from.

My workplace as a result of the pandemic has introduced distancing practices in and stepped up general hygiene. Anyone who can work at home, is. As a result of the low sales volumes and general slow down of work, a lot of my colleagues have been placed on discretionary leave, being paid the minimum government subsidy until nationally we return to “alert level 2” (there’s a 4 step alert system, we’re in level 4 now). Nobody has been laid off, yet. — Head Roaster, New Zealand

Minimally. Panama is in total lockdown, agriculture exempted. Most of our coffee is sold to Asia, who continues to buy. Main problem is shipping logistics, especially via air. — Producer/exporter, Panama

In Jakarta, our government has not required us to do a complete lockdown. We are still allowed to operate but we only have one location purely for takeaways. We used to have three stores. Sales have dropped around 80% and it’s tough. We have put some of our recent hires on unpaid leave… hoping this will end soon. — Cafe owner, Indonesia

How has the pandemic impacted your job?

I’ve personally accepted more responsibility, since we’re down to a skeleton crew and the acting manager isn’t setting foot in the cafe because he doesn’t have insurance and he’s scared. Most days are either really busy or dead in the water. The days that we’re busy I make astoundingly good tips. Every day I wonder if it will be the last before the government shuts all of the restaurants down. — Barista/manager, United States

As a founder you wear all the hats in the business anyway so day to day hasn’t changed too much except now absolutely everything is done from my laptop except for packing all the online orders. — Founder of a cold brew coffee company, United Kingdom

For many small exporters, to finance one container requires quite a bit of financial muscle, not to mention the hefty interest rates from banks and/or private lenders. Because of the world-wide stay-at-home effort, roasters aren’t stocking up on green because of the uncertainty and consumers aren’t going out to coffee shops and restaurants to drink their coffee, which is reducing consumption. Once the consumer stops spending, the roaster slows down production, the importer starts sitting on green, and well, the exporter has to scramble to find a quick solution to stay afloat and continue to carry the loans until payment can be made from the importer/roaster. By holding up cash-flow, exporters will not be able to purchase as much coffee as projected, affecting the farmer who will have to sell to the co-op and be subject to the market price. The reduction in demand that is expected for 2nd and 3rd quarters will also have an affect on the quantity of coffee being purchased at specialty prices.

There is also a worry of a shortage of pickers for this harvest season for two reasons; pickers don’t want to leave home and risk getting infected while away from home and two, local governments don’t want pickers from other regions coming in to their regions potentially carrying the virus. This has prompted some local governments to start campaigns to hire locals to pick coffee, offering guaranteed medical coverage against the virus and other subsidies. — Importer/exporter, Colombia

Our management made the right decision to close the coffee house completely, and not work “to-go”, because even the slightest risk is a risk for all of us. — Barista, Russia

Sales have dropped a lot. Also forecasting has stopped as no roaster wants to take a long term guess. This is impacting how we can forecast purchases at origin as well. — Green coffee buyer, Australia

It’s gone for now! I’ve worked in the coffee industry since I was 18, I’m 25 now. It’s been my career aspiration to work in a coffee roastery. Eight months into my dream job and it’s been snatched away from me. I was also training for the Brewers cup, hours of training put in with a coffee that won’t make it to the national stage. — Production assistant/account manager, Ireland

What’s your life like right now?

I’m enjoying myself at home, trying to work on creative projects, suddenly needing to buy way more whole bean than I normally would. I visited my store yesterday to say hello to everyone, and I’m glad I’m not working through this time. The job right now simply isn’t what I was hired for, or what I had hired staff for, and although I know regulars keep showing up and the working staff are nothing but positive, I know I couldn’t suspend my fear and completely alter our operations without having an eventual breakdown. Sometimes I worry that I made the wrong choice, that I turned my back on a great company and wonderful coworkers, but this is far bigger than me, than any of us individually, and I have to remind myself that despite the uncertainty, staying home is the likely the best thing I can do for everyone in my community. — Barista/manager, Canada

Working from home and waiting for funding from the government so that I won’t have to shut down altogether. — Cafe owner, Brazil

It is better but still we hope that we will overcome it soon because still we are making just 50% of our regular numbers. — Cafe owner, Czech Republic

My wife and I run our cafe, where we have around 11 employees. The future is just uncertain. We were one of the first coffee roasters in Kazakhstan, and we have been here for the past eight years watching the culture grow. And now I’m scared we will have to start all over. — Cafe/roastery owner, Kazakhstan

My life is very precarious. I have expenses without any return. I am limited in practicing my profession, if not for video lessons to keep in touch with the community. How it will return to normal is my doubt. Our profession is at risk. — Barista, Italy

Filled with anxiety of no income but relaxing spending time with loved ones at home. — Head of coffee, South Africa

My life is a series of zoom calls, FaceTime, daily anxiety, and planning my alternate idea of a career that doesn’t rely on the global economy. I’ve been knitting a lot and filming crafting videos. — Roasting operations manager, United Kingdom

Boring and stressful. — Cafe owner, Trinidad

I filed for unemployment but with little clarity as to what the stimulus package is actually sending, my partner (also a barista) and I are making about a third of our wages from unemployment leaving our livelihood up in the air with rent and other bills still coming. We are also losing our health insurance through our full-time jobs. — Barista, United States

Additional Reporting

Poll results: Baristas

Poll results: Coffee consumption

Voices of baristas

Voices of cafe owners

Voices of importers

All COVID-19 coverage on Sprudge.

Zac Cadwalader is the managing editor at Sprudge Media Network and a staff writer based in Dallas. Read more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.

Voices Of The Global Coffee Supply Chain Respond To COVID-19 published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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shebreathesslowly · 4 years

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Voices Of The Global Coffee Supply Chain Respond To COVID-19

We are reprinting a selection of those responses in full below. All answers were given anonymously. We have included each respondent’s country of residence and job title for context.

Some answers have been lightly edited and condensed for clarity.

How has the pandemic impacted your workplace?

How has the pandemic impacted your job?

Our management made the right decision to close the coffee house completely, and not work “to-go”, because even the slightest risk is a risk for all of us. — Barista, Russia

What’s your life like right now?

Working from home and waiting for funding from the government so that I won’t have to shut down altogether. — Cafe owner, Brazil

It is better but still we hope that we will overcome it soon because still we are making just 50% of our regular numbers. — Cafe owner, Czech Republic

Filled with anxiety of no income but relaxing spending time with loved ones at home. — Head of coffee, South Africa

Boring and stressful. — Cafe owner, Trinidad

Additional Reporting

Poll results: Baristas

Poll results: Coffee consumption

Voices of baristas

Voices of cafe owners

Voices of importers

All COVID-19 coverage on Sprudge.

Zac Cadwalader is the managing editor at Sprudge Media Network and a staff writer based in Dallas. Read more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.

from Sprudge https://ift.tt/3adI0uh

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gordonwilliamsweb · 3 years

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Indiana School Goes Extra Mile to Help Vulnerable Kids Weather Pandemic

After covid-19 forced Olivia Goulding’s Indiana middle school to switch back to remote learning late last year, the math teacher lost contact with many of her students. So she and some colleagues came up with a plan: visiting them under the guise of dropping off Christmas gifts.

This story also ran on USA Today. It can be republished for free.

One day in December, they set out with cards and candy canes and dropped by the homes of every eighth grader at Sarah Scott Middle School in Terre Haute, a city of more than 60,000 near the Illinois border where both Indiana State University and the federal death row are located. They saw firsthand how these kids, many living in poverty and dysfunctional families, were coping with the pandemic’s disruptions to their academic and social routines.

“You just have a better concept of where they’re coming from and the challenges they really do have,” Goulding said. “When you’re looking at that electronic grade book and Sally Lou hasn’t turned in something, you remember back in your mind: ‘Oh, yeah, Sally Lou was home by herself, taking care of three younger siblings when I stopped by, and I spotted her helping Johnny with his math and she was helping this one with something else.’”

The school’s experience provides a window into the hardships millions of families across the country have endured since last March, and exemplifies why education isn’t the only reason many Americans want schools to fully reopen. Schools like Sarah Scott help hold their communities together by providing households with wide-ranging support, which has become much tougher during the pandemic.

“A lot of our students are struggling emotionally,” said Sarah Scott’s principal, Scotia Brown. “They’re stressed because they’re falling behind in their work. Or they’re stressed because of the conditions they’re living with at home.”

Even before the coronavirus struck, kids at Sarah Scott faced significant obstacles that compounded the normal social challenges and surging hormones of middle school. They live in Vigo County, which has the state’s highest rate of child poverty and high rates of child neglect. Nearly 90% of students qualified for free or reduced-fee lunches. Some showed up needing to shower and change at the school, which has a food pantry that also offers clothes and hygiene products.

Things got more difficult for students when covid threw Sarah Scott’s normal schedule into disarray. Initially, the school went totally remote, then moved to partially in-person for the start of the 2020-21 school year. When covid spiked in October, Sarah Scott went remote again because not enough substitute teachers could fill in for quarantining staff. Since January, students have been spending part of each week in the school building, with no plans as of early March to open fully.

Kids were given laptops to use at home. But internet access can be problematic.

“Internet has been the worst,” said Samantha Riley, mother of seventh grader Mariah Pointer. “So many people are on it, it shuts down all the time.”

When that happens, she uses the Wi-Fi emitting from the school bus that sits in front of her apartment complex, one of several parked around the community to fill the gaps.

Even when the internet works, though, keeping kids on task at home isn’t easy. Heather Raley said she often cries from the stress of trying to make her eighth grade daughter engage online. “It just seems like we’re always butting heads over this,” Raley said. “It’s just a bigger battle getting the work done.”

As in many other communities, students are falling behind academically. Some don’t do any of their e-learning activities. Sarah Scott’s reports to child protective services for educational neglect — when caregivers aren’t getting their children to either in-person or remote classes — have more than tripled this school year.

Brown said she also worries about physical neglect and abuse, which is harder to detect when interacting with students remotely. “If you’re in an abusive home and you have to be there five days out of the week because you’re doing remote learning, you’re in that environment even more,” she said.

More time at home can also mean doing without necessities, including food.

The school helps by offering free breakfasts and lunches for in-person students and to-go lunches on remote days. Sometimes, the principal delivers boxes of groceries to students’ homes. The school recently secured a microwave for one family and an inflatable mattress for a student who’d been sharing a bed with his grandmother.

For some kids, the stress of the pandemic has worsened emotional problems and mental illness. Recently, a former Sarah Scott student who had moved out of state logged into her former teacher’s virtual class to say she planned to kill herself. The school contacted police, who checked on her. Referrals for suicidal students are up fourfold, Brown said.

School social worker Nichelle Campbell-Miller said it’s been tough counseling kids online or through text messages.

“I am all about building relationships and being in person and being able to dap you up or give you a hug and be like, ‘Hey, what’s up?’” she said, using a term for various greetings like fist bumps or elaborate handshakes. “So being online is extremely difficult for me, because you can’t really tell the tone of your student. When I’m talking to you in person, I can read your body language and I can gauge where you’re at.”

Right now, she said, the psychological well-being of her middle schoolers is even more important than education.

Many students, such as eighth grader Trea Johnson, come up against challenges on both fronts. Trea transferred to Sarah Scott two days before covid ended in-person learning.

“We struggle with school anyway,” said his mom, Kathy Poff. “Then when this pandemic came along, it just knocked our feet out from under us.”

His grades plunged. He began to hate school, Poff said. He didn’t attend his daily video meetings with his teachers. His mother fought with him to complete his online assignments.

“I usually get pretty bored,” said Trea, whose long, straight hair sometimes falls over his eyes.

Poff found him a therapist he meets with once a week. She said his mood and academic productivity have improved. He wants to be a computer programmer and has been coding in his spare time lately. She also moved his computer into her bedroom so she could better monitor him and has started paying him to do his schoolwork.

“I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be a 13-year-old going through this pandemic,” said Poff, 51, a single mother. “They’re going through changes anyway, adjusting to adolescence and figuring out who they are, and they don’t even have a social group to figure that out.”

Goulding, the math teacher, said she’s glad she and her co-workers can help provide stability and continuity during this trying period. One recent night, for example, she got a call from a truant boy’s grandmother, who said she was in poor health and raising him alone. The next day, the principal and social worker picked him up and drove him to school.

Still, Goulding lamented not seeing her most vulnerable students on the days when they are remote.

“How do I check on my kids? How do I make sure they’re eating? How do I make sure,” she paused to compose herself, her voice quavering, “they’re safe?

“You’re no longer thinking about, ‘How are they doing on their polynomials?’ You’re thinking about, you know, the reality of life.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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This story can be republished for free (details).

Indiana School Goes Extra Mile to Help Vulnerable Kids Weather Pandemic published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

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stephenmccull · 3 years

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Indiana School Goes Extra Mile to Help Vulnerable Kids Weather Pandemic