Honeybee

by Craig Silvey;

  Peter cleared his throat.

  ‘Then a couple of weeks ago, we had an old girl leave us on the ward. Val. She was just … sunshine. Just delightful, you know? She had the kindest, youngest blue eyes. She was sassy and brave and funny, and she seemed to have an endless stream of children and cousins and nieces and grandchildren coming in to see her, and she introduced me to every one of them. But when she passed away, none of her family was there. She died on her own. I found her. And that one really hurt, Sam. That one hurt. I finished my shift, and I sat in my car, and I was a blubbering mess. And I thought about Vic, and I had a horrible premonition. It’s hard to explain. But I drove straight here and I knocked but nobody answered. And I was still so upset and heartbroken that I just opened the door and walked straight in. I found Vic in a bad way and I called an ambulance. He wasn’t happy about it.’

  Peter sniffed and opened his bag and pulled a tissue out. He blew his nose and wiped his eyes.

  ‘I know what he wanted, Sam. I read the note that he left. But I knew before that too. When I brought him back home after his overnight stay with us, he talked about his wife, and he talked about his life, and he talked about you. I’m glad you were here when he went. I’m glad he wasn’t alone.’

  Peter reached out and put his hand over mine.

  ‘But before I left him that day, Vic asked me to look after you. He made me promise that I wouldn’t give up, and that I would do whatever it took to see that you were okay. Then he told me something else.’

  He slid Vic’s keys across the table to me.

  ‘These are yours.’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You don’t understand, sweetie. They’re yours, because it’s all yours.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Vic left you everything he owned. This house, everything in it. It’s yours. He had a few thousand left in his savings account too. That will be transferred to you.’

  ‘It can’t be.’

  I didn’t understand. Then Peter pulled a large envelope out of his bag and handed it to me.

  ‘After you went home, Vic went to see a lawyer. He had them draw up his will and serve as the executor. He left it all to you, Sam. And Vic wanted me to make sure that you knew, and that you accepted it. That’s why I’ve been trying to find you. He left you everything he ever worked for. He was a beautiful man. He loved you.’

  I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘It’s all yours, Honeybee. This is your home.’

  I couldn’t open the envelope. I didn’t want it. It was too much. It didn’t feel real. I wished Vic was here. I wished I could speak to him.

  I looked up at Peter.

  ‘Where is he?’ I asked.

  In the backyard I snapped off some bottlebrush and grevillea and picked a few chrysanthemums. I tied them into a bunch with string from the kitchen drawer.

  Peter was waiting for me in his car. There was glitter everywhere. His back seat was stacked with dry-cleaned dresses and shoeboxes and wigs. I held the bouquet in my lap while he drove to Fremantle Cemetery. Peter had looked up the location of Vic’s grave on their database.

  We walked together up the main path, past old headstones and crosses and plinths. We didn’t talk. The sun was coming up higher, and there was a little breeze.

  Peter checked all the signs. I followed him up a long slope. After a while, Peter stopped and crouched in front of a marker, then we turned down a row. We walked until we found a mound of earth between a couple of graves.

  ‘I think this is it,’ Peter said.

  There was no gravestone or plaque or cross. It was just dirt and sand and little rocks. I thought we must be at the wrong place, but then I looked at the name on the grave to the left.

  It was Edie’s.

  I thought about how many times Vic had stood where I was.

  Peter rubbed my back.

  ‘Take your time,’ he said. Then he left me alone.

  I kneeled and put the flowers on the mound.

  ‘I brought these from the backyard,’ I said.

  I didn’t know what to do. It was strange to think that Vic was down there inside a coffin. I didn’t like it.

  I sat down and crossed my legs. I tried to imagine him standing next to me, like a ghost.

  ‘I miss you,’ I said, then I looked at Edie’s grave. I tried to bring her to life in my mind too. ‘I kind of miss both of you, I guess. Peter just told me what you did for me. I don’t get it. I don’t get why. I don’t deserve it. You didn’t have to. You didn’t have to care about me at all.’

  I plucked blades of grass and I teared up.

  ‘It’s too much. I don’t know. It’s like it’s too nice. I don’t know why you were always so nice to me. Even when you were hurting or when you were sick or when I did something wrong. You were always nice to me. I don’t know what to say. It’s like, saying thank you doesn’t really mean enough. It doesn’t do enough. It doesn’t really show you how much it means to me. I wish I could have tried to tell you while you were still here.’

  I cried for a while, then I wiped my nose on my sleeve and took some breaths.

  ‘It’s hard being here still. I did something stupid again, and I made everything even harder. If it wasn’t for you … I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make anything better. Maybe somebody else does. I think … I think I need some help, Vic. Because I can’t do it on my own. I just mess stuff up.’

  I stood up.

  ‘I’ll take really good care of your house. I’ll keep it clean and look after it. I promised you I would try, but this time I mean it. As long as I can stand it, I’m going to try.’

  Chaotic Good

  That night Peter stayed for dinner.

  I cooked Vic’s Last Meal. Lamb roast and vegetables with trifle for dessert. When he took his first bite, Peter slammed his cutlery down and looked at me with wide eyes. I thought he was angry, but he just meant it was really delicious. He ate fast and had a huge appetite. He asked for seconds, which made me feel really good.

  After we had the trifle, I poured the last of Vic and Edie’s wedding anniversary brandy into two teacups. We clinked them together to toast Vic, then we drank.

  When he finished the cup, Peter leaned back and scratched his chest and frowned at me.

  ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘You didn’t rob a bank, did you?’

  I froze.

  ‘What?’

  Peter smiled.

  ‘Didn’t you hear about it? It was all over the news. Some girl tried to rob a bank with a bomb a few weeks ago, and when I saw the security footage I thought, Oh my God, she looks just like our Honeybee! It was seriously uncanny. I texted the girls, and they all said the same thing.’

  I put my cup down and I looked at Peter.

  ‘I did it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I did it. It was me.’

  He went quiet and serious. Then he started to laugh.

  ‘Oh, you’re precious. You actually had me for a moment.’

  Peter stayed over. He slept on the couch and I went back to Vic’s bed. I couldn’t go into the main bedroom. I kept that door closed.

  Peter took the next few days off work. He went with me to see Vic’s solicitor. His name was Edward Denley and he must have been ten years older than Vic. He had white hairs growing out of his ears and he always closed his eyes and nodded to himself before he said anything. He didn’t have a computer and he wrote everything down on a yellow pad.

  Edward Denley explained the conditions of Vic’s will. I didn’t understand any of it. I was glad Peter was there. He asked questions about holding trusts and estate administration and age of maturity, and I felt really small and overwhelmed. I wanted to tell them that it must be a mistake, and I didn’t deserve any of this. I wanted to give it all to my mum. Maybe she would forgive me and we could live at Vic’s together.

  ‘What if I don’t take it?’ I asked.

  ‘Excuse me?’ P
eter said.

  ‘What if I gave it to somebody else?’

  Edward Denley closed his eyes and nodded.

  ‘You can disclaim a bequest for many reasons—tax implications, for example, or if an inherited property is financially burdensome. Or a valuable asset might disrupt government benefits. Personal reasons too, of course. It’s not a cumbersome process, you simply sign a statement of renunciation. However, you do not have the right to elect a beneficiary.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means you can’t choose who gets it,’ Peter said.

  ‘Why can’t I give it away to who I want?’

  Edward Denley closed his eyes and nodded.

  ‘You may, but not prior to receipt of the assets. And in your case there are additional restrictions. For example, the deceased requested that the property not be sold until after you turn thirty, which would mean you’re not in a position to pass the title on.’

  Peter touched my knee and spoke quietly.

  ‘Sam, no. What are you doing?’

  ‘I don’t want it. It’s too much. It’s not right.’

  ‘Having drafted the will, I can tell you the deceased was unequivocal in his wishes,’ said Edward Denley.

  ‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

  Peter squeezed my hands.

  ‘It means it’s what Vic wanted. It means it’s yours. It means you deserve it. It means nobody else can take it from you. And it means we’re not leaving here until you accept it.’

  After a few days, Peter had to go back to work. I was relieved when he offered to keep staying at Vic’s.

  ‘Only if you want to,’ I said.

  Peter closed his eyes and nodded and did an impression of Edward Denley.

  ‘I am unequivocal in my wishes.’

  I liked Peter. At first I was suspicious because I didn’t know why he was being so kind to me, but I was getting used to trusting him. He sang a lot, especially in the car, where he mostly listened to senior citizens radio. If a song came on that he liked he turned the volume right up and sang the whole thing, even if the windows were down and we were at a red light. Peter didn’t care if people stared or laughed. He turned and looked right back and made them uncomfortable. Sometimes other cars honked or turned their radios up and joined in.

  I liked his voice. It was loud.

  I don’t know how, but Edward Denley helped to get a copy of my birth certificate. Next to ‘Father’ it was blank. Peter said we could use it to get me a personal bank account.

  On the way home from the lawyer’s office, Peter turned onto Glenfield Road. As we approached the shopping plaza, he saw the sign for the Western Mutual Bank. He pulled into the car park.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

  ‘There’s a bank here. Let’s just go in and set up your account now.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘It’ll take five minutes.’

  Peter started to get out of the car.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘let’s just do it another—’

  Peter gasped. He ducked his head back down.

  ‘Holy shit!’ he whispered. ‘I think this is the same branch! You know, the robbery!’

  I felt like I was going to vomit. Peter straightened and looked around the plaza.

  ‘It is! Oh my God, now we have to go in. Come on!’

  He was smiling and waving at me to hurry up. I didn’t know what to do. If I said no, Peter might actually suspect something. But if I went into the bank, they would recognise me.

  ‘Can’t you just go in?’

  ‘No, sweetie. They need a signature. Come on! It’s easy.’

  Maybe I deserved to get caught.

  I got out of the car. I stayed close behind Peter and looked around nervously. When the automatic doors opened, I thought I might faint, but I pushed my shoulders back and I tried to walk like Dane. I tried to disguise myself as a boy.

  We waited in the queue. I kept my head down. I didn’t recognise any of the staff, but I felt like everybody was looking at me. It was like I was in a bad dream.

  Peter had his hands on his hips. He was still smiling. He turned and winked at me.

  We were called forward and my stomach dropped. Behind the counter was Suzanne. I hadn’t recognised her at first because she had dyed her hair darker. She smiled.

  ‘Welcome to Western Mutual, how can I help you?’

  ‘Hello!’ Peter was really cheerful. ‘We’re here to open a savings account. It’s for my associate here.’

  Suzanne looked at me, and hesitated for a moment.

  ‘Oh, okay,’ she said. ‘Of course.’

  Peter leaned forwards and spoke softly.

  ‘I have to ask: is this the same bank where there was an attempted robbery a few weeks ago?’

  Suzanne nodded and said yes. She looked at me again.

  Peter puts his hands over his mouth, then he nudged me.

  ‘I told you,’ he said, then he gasped again. ‘Oh, girl, was it you they interviewed on the news?’

  ‘It was, yeah.’

  ‘Did you change your hair?’

  ‘I dyed it.’

  ‘Oh, it looks gorgeous. Brings out those beautiful green eyes too.’

  Suzanne blushed.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘God, you must have been terrified. Are you okay?’

  ‘I was mostly in shock, you know?’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said.

  I didn’t think before I said it. She seemed so nice, and I felt awful about what I had done. She looked at me again. I expected her to realise and ring the alarm, but she just shrugged and turned back to Peter.

  ‘It’s okay. I’m totally fine. It was just really weird. It was like something out of a movie.’

  ‘Did they find her?’ Peter asked.

  ‘We haven’t heard anything.’

  ‘Was it a real bomb? They never said.’

  ‘I don’t think so. They made us all evacuate the building. I think someone said it was just kitchen appliances and some wires.’

  ‘At least you got the day off work,’ Peter said.

  ‘Yeah, but I left my keys in the break room and they wouldn’t let me back in.’

  ‘Oh, bloody hell. Disaster.’

  ‘It’s okay, my sister came to pick me up after I gave my statement and did all the interviews and we went and got drunk.’

  ‘Good for you! God, you’re so brave.’

  ‘I wasn’t really that scared. It happened so fast. We get a lot of randoms through here, but there’s never been a robbery before. Anyway, it’s a good story.’

  I was glad she was okay.

  Suzanne turned to me. She waved her finger in the air to gesture writing.

  ‘So I’ll get you a form and a pen to write down your details, okay?’

  I imagined Vic beside me, laughing.

  The next day, after Peter had left for work, I went to see Aggie.

  When Mrs Meemeduma opened the door she acted like she hadn’t seen me for years. She threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. She was really soft and she smelled like mint and roses. Then she ushered me inside and called out for Aggie.

  Aggie shuffled out of her room in her pyjamas. She looked grumpy because she had just woken up, but she brightened when she saw me.

  ‘Sam! I’ve been texting you incessantly!’

  ‘I’m sorry. My phone has no battery.’

  She threw her head back.

  ‘Ugh!’

  In her room, Aggie gave me the Christmas present. It was wrapped in white tissue paper and it fit in my hand. It was so perfect and neat that I didn’t want to open it. I just liked having a gift, I didn’t care what it was.

  ‘Open it!’

  I carefully peeled the paper. It was a figurine of a woman with long brown hair in a fighting stance. She wore a leather skirt and bodice. She had a long tail and held a small sword.

  ‘It’s you!’ Aggie said.

  ‘Really?’

  She lau
ghed.

  ‘Let me explain. I know it’s technically female, but she’s also a Tiefling, so we’re suspending our disbelief anyway. I painted it myself!’

  My hands were shaking. The figurine looked so fierce and brave.

  ‘I love it. Thank you.’

  Aggie went to her desk and got a sheet of paper from her top drawer. It was rolled up into a scroll.

  ‘Okay, so this is the embarrassing part, because I’m an irredeemable nerd and I couldn’t help myself. I made a character sheet for you. Do you want to see?’

  ‘Yes!’

  We sat on Aggie’s bed. I unrolled the paper and saw lots of numbers and boxes and lists.

  ‘I don’t know what anything means.’

  ‘Of course you don’t. Okay, so your name is here—Sam, obviously—and next is your race. I chose Tiefling because they’re outcast and misunderstood and they’re also kinda secretive. For class I made you a rogue, which means you’re stealthy and you keep to the shadows and you’re a bit cunning. People underestimate you. Rogues are very talented thieves.’

  That made me blush, but Aggie didn’t notice.

  ‘And under background I put urchin. So, like, maybe your character didn’t grow up with many advantages or guidance or stability, which has made you super resourceful and independent and resilient. But you’re also a bit distrustful and aloof. Urchins have certain skill proficiencies too, like stealth and sleight of hand, so you’re known for pickpocketing and street-level scams. Is this, like, the most tedious thing in the world? Or is it too weird? Should I stop?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘No. It’s really amazing.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay. So this section is your equipment list, which is pretty self-explanatory. First is typically your garment. Your character pretty much has negligible armour, which leaves you really vulnerable to attack. However, urchins are given a disguise kit, which helps them to commit crimes or escape dangerous situations. Does that remind you of anyone?’