The Honey Well

by Gloria Mallette

  “Yeah, I ran away this morning.”

  Jeanette leaned closer to Trena, their shoulders touched. “I’m not surprised.”

  “Well, I couldn’t take it anymore. My mother always sides with my sister, and last night, they ganged up on me. I ain’t never goin’ back there.”

  “I’ve been in your shoes,” Jeanette said. “I left home when I was seventeen and I’ve never looked back.”

  “Did you have to live on the street?”

  “Puleeze. Do I look like I ever lived on the street? Girl, I went to live in a place better than the apartment I lived in with my parents. I still live there. It’s a mansion. It’s gorgeous.”

  Trena’s eyes stretched. “For real?”

  “For real. Trena, where are you staying?”

  “I hid out in Alyson’s bedroom today, but I’m not going to be able to stay there for long.”

  Jeanette casually flipped her hand. “Don’t worry. I can hook you up.”

  “For real? You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course I would. I came looking for you tonight because I felt that you might need a friend. If you want, you can come home with me tonight.”

  “Oh, man, that would be great, but I left my things at Alyson’s.”

  “No problem. We can get those things tomorrow.”

  “Jeanette, I really appreciate this. I just need to stay until I can get a job and get myself an apartment, but I’ll pay my—”

  “Trena, please, don’t worry about it. I know what it is to be in need of a place to crash. Look, I’ve had enough of this music. I’m ready to leave if you are.”

  Trena felt like jumping up and down. “Sure. But I need to tell Alyson and Bebe that I’m jettin’.” Trena began to search the faces in the dancing crowd. She didn’t see either Alyson or Bebe. “Damn, where did they go?”

  “You can call them tomorrow. We have to get your things from Alyson anyway.”

  “True,” Trena said, hating that she wasn’t going to be able to tell her girls until tomorrow that she had a place to stay. Things were going to work out after all. When Jeanette slipped her arm through Trena’s, and they threaded their way through the crowd toward the exit, Trena was glad that she had let Jeanette sit at the table with her and Alyson the night before. Tonight, Jeanette was saving her life.

  Fourteen

  Arnell was in a deep, dreamless sleep. She didn’t hear the doorbell chimes the first time they rang, nor the second time. The third time she did hear them, but even then to her ears the chimes sounded far, far away, when in fact the bell was mounted high on the wall only twenty feet from where Arnell lay zonked out on the living room sofa still unable to open her eyes. They felt glued shut. After she got in last night, she had taken a long, hot bath which didn’t relax her enough to put her to sleep. At two in the morning, she found herself sitting on the sofa stuffing her face with tablespoon-size doses of Haagen Däzs vanilla Swiss almond ice cream. She ate the whole pint along with a large bag of cheese twists and half a box of soft, gooey double chocolate chip cookies while watching Police Academy ten or something. The movie, however, wasn’t funny enough or silly enough to keep Arnell from crying about what Woodruff Parker had done to her. The truth of it was, her tears weren’t all about what had happened last night, they were about the many men that had used her body as a sperm receptacle. She felt like she had never had any say about how her body was to be used or about the path in life on which she walked, and it angered her. That’s when her four throw pillows became exactly that—throw pillows. Arnell angrily threw them across the room, but she felt no better. Then she cursed Esther for ever giving birth to her. She was mad as hell about being born to Esther Rayford. Arnell gave herself permission to wallow in her anger like she’d never done before. She allowed herself to cry without shame and it was cathartic—she felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off her chest. Now she had to find a way to remain unburdened. Since coming home Friday night, she had ignored the ringing telephone. She listened only to the recorded voices that spoke to her on her answering machine—Esther begging her to return her calls, and when she didn’t, said finally that she would see her at dinner on Sunday. James’s message was a demand to know where Arnell was. He had called three times.

  By five in the morning, while nibbling on a bag of salty potato chips and drinking a second glass of sweet iced tea, she had begun watching another comedy that she again couldn’t focus on, so she didn’t have a clue as to why Ben Stiller was climbing out onto the roof of a house. He wasn’t funny, either, but he did finally help her drop off to sleep.

  The bell chimed a fourth time. Arnell lay still. It was probably a pair of persistent Jehovah’s Witnesses hoping to convert her, or some salesman trying to sell her a bronze-tipped dipstick or something. Whoever it was, Arnell had no intention of answering the door. She turned onto her side and curled up; she was going back to sleep.

  Suddenly, there was a loud banging at the front door. “Arnell!”

  Her eyes popped open. Oh, shit! It was James. She sat right up. The VCR clock illuminated the time in amber—12:17 P.M.

  James banged again. “Arnell!”

  Arnell hurriedly pried herself out of the sunken spot her body had made in the sofa cushion and rushed to the front door. With her hand on the doorknob, she glanced back at the remnants of her disgustingly gluttonous binge on the coffee table—an empty bag of cheese twists, two dirty drinking glasses, a dried-out milky container of Haagen Däzs vanilla Swiss almond ice cream, a half a bag of potato chips, and a box of Entenmann’s double chocolate chip cookies with only two cookies inside. It was going to take her a month to lose the pounds she’d packed onto her hips. Oh well, too late to worry about that now. It was also too late to do anything about the wrinkled fleece shorts and cotton T-shirt she was wearing. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  James all but pushed Arnell out of the way in his agitated haste to bustle into the house. “Isn’t your bell working?”

  Arnell closed the door just in case James decided to test the doorbell.

  “Didn’t you hear me banging and screaming out there?” James looked suspiciously around the dark room. The blinds and curtains in the living room were drawn tight. “Were you still in bed?”

  Arnell’s reply was a wide-mouthed yawn. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and got an unexpected, unpleasant whiff of her own foul morning breath. She headed straight for the bathroom.

  “Where are you going?” James was right on Arnell’s heels.

  “Do you mind if I go to the bathroom?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “James, whatever you have to say can wait five minutes.”

  “Why are you talking to me like this? Are you angry with me for some reason?”

  Arnell stopped walking but she kept her back to James. She didn’t want him to see that she was close to tearing. “James, I may look awake, but believe me, I am the walking dead. At this moment, I can only handle one or two very mundane chores, and those are peeing and brushing my teeth.”

  James still tried to follow Arnell into the bathroom. “Damn. What did you do last night?”

  She ignored James’s question. Just inside the bathroom, Arnell abruptly turned on him. “I can do this alone.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t seen you sit on the toilet before.”

  Arnell snipped, “Like that’s something to boast about.”

  James leveled a perplexed look on Arnell.

  “I’m sorry, but I am not feeling too well right now.”

  “Which is why I asked, what’s wrong?”

  Huffing her impatience and annoyance, Arnell put her hand on the door to close it. “Can we talk when I get out of the bathroom—please?”

  “Fine, fine.” James stepped back so that Arnell could close the door.

  Inside, Arnell fell back against the door. She could slap her own face for answering James’s knock. She should have just pretended that she wasn’t home. She wa
s in no condition to deal with him. It wasn’t fair to him that she was in such a foul mood. He didn’t deserve to be treated so irritably, not to mention deceptively.

  James tapped softly on the door. “What happened to you last night?”

  Arnell dropped her chin to her chest. Please leave me alone.

  “Arnell, did you hear me?” James tapped at the door again. “I came by like we planned. I waited for you for quite a while. Where were you?”

  “James, I left you a message that I stayed with my mother later than I intended and then, I guess, we must have passed each other on the road.”

  “I called your mother. She said you’d left soon after she and I spoke. It wasn’t that late, Arnell.”

  With the bathroom door still between them, Arnell clenched her jaw and her fists. Damn Esther! If Arnell didn’t know better, which she did, she’d swear that Esther was trying to ruin any chance she’d ever have at happiness.

  “Look, James, I was exhausted. I would not have been good company.”

  “Is that what we are to each other? Company?”

  “I just meant that I would have bored you.”

  “Baby, we wouldn’t be getting married if either one of us bored the other.”

  Arnell felt terrible. What James said was true. There were times when they just sat and read books with no music, no television, no words spoken, yet, it was as if their sheer silence and an occasional glance was all the communication they needed.

  “I worried about you all night,” James said. “Why didn’t you call me when you got home?”

  Arnell went to the sink and turned on the water. She and James were great together, but he was acting like he was already her husband—demanding that she account for every minute she wasn’t in his sight. God, he’d lose his mind if he ever found out what she had done last night and what had been done to her.

  James hit the door hard. “Damn it, Arnell! Will you answer me?”

  Arnell turned the cold water on full force. With her hands cupped, she splashed handfuls of cold water on her face.

  “Fine!” James tramped away from the door into the living room. He flipped on the light switch. He gawked at the mess on the coffee table. “Damn! Did you have a party last night?”

  Even with the water running, Arnell could hear James’s question. No doubt he had seen the mess she’d made. What the hell. Taking her time, Arnell dried her face and brushed her teeth. She thought she had to use the toilet but didn’t. Her hair looked a mess, but she didn’t really care. It was time to face James and looking good was the least of her concerns. Arnell took a deep breath and exhaled a belch. Boy, was she going to pay for eating all of that junk. She felt like she was stuffed up to her nose. After James left, she’d take a laxative, but for now, she patted her full stomach as she left the bathroom.

  James was still staring at the mess on the living room table.

  “No party,” she said, “just me being a pig.”

  “I know it’s not your time of the month, so you couldn’t have eaten all this junk because of hormones.”

  “Oh, you know that, do you?” Usually, it didn’t bother her that James knew her cycle better than she did. At that moment it did. After all this time, it was still strange to be with a man who was not just about screwing her and going on about his business. James stayed with her even when she doubled over from the cramps that came with her period, and he never balked about having to run out to get a bottle of Midol or a bottle of Motrin, whichever she had need of and was out of. Yes, James was a special man—the kind Arnell thought would never cross her path.

  The first time they were together James didn’t get out of the bed to leave minutes after he’d shot his wad. For quite a while he’d lain in bed holding her, kissing her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear until his whisperings became light snoring. Throughout the night she kept waking to see if he was still there. He was, and the next morning he had breakfast with her. She had never had that kind of relationship before, which meant that she’d never had a man make love to her and care whether she’d been satisfied or not. It had been obvious that James had held back until she was ready to climax with him and, oh boy, did she ever. It was an orgasmic awakening for her. She had gripped James with every ounce of her being, not wanting to let him pull out of her. She soon learned that her orgasm was as intensely emotional as it was physical. She was in love with James. That’s all there was to it, and now with Esther holding her past over her head, she could lose him.

  “Arnell, are you going to talk to me or not?”

  She began snatching the garbage from the table.

  “Don’t play this goddamn game with me, Arnell. Something’s wrong. It’s evident by your nasty attitude and it’s, for damn sure, written all over your face. You look terrible.”

  That comment didn’t bother Arnell in the least. “Yeah, well, I’m not posing for pictures today.” She took the garbage to the wastebasket in the kitchen and dumped it before she thought to take the spoon out of the empty ice-cream container. She quickly retrieved the spoon and flung it into the sink. It clanked loudly. She turned to leave the kitchen and bumped right into James.

  He put his arms around her. “Baby, talk to me.”

  She tried to pull away. James held her fast.

  “James, I’m trying to clean up.”

  “It can wait.”

  “No it can’t. I—”

  “Cut the crap, Arnell. Something happened last night and I—”

  Arnell abruptly pulled herself free of James’s hold. She was too scared to give herself up. “James, you’re trying to make something out of nothing. Nothing happened last night. So I had a vicious sweet tooth, so what? I’m entitled—I am a woman, and that’s not to say that I have a problem. I just felt like eating pure, sugar-laden, heart-clogging junk. That’s my prerogative.” Arnell’s lies were making her just as queasy as the case of indigestion she had. She went back into the living room. She flopped down on the sofa.

  “Okay, fine, so nothing’s wrong? Then why do I feel like you went out of your way to avoid me last night.”

  Arnell lowered her eyes.

  James sat in the armchair across from Arnell. “Baby, our evenings together are too few and far between as it is for—”

  “That’s not my fault, James. You’re the one that’s so damn busy. I’m always here. I work from home, remember?”

  “That may be true, but you know what my schedule is like. The City Council has stepped up its meetings on the Brooklyn Navy Yard referendum. We’re trying to stop the mayor from using the yard as a waste disposal site. We’re hoping to get condominiums built down there. The meetings have been exhausting. Baby, I am wiped out by the time—”

  “So, this is why I figured that you could use this weekend to get some rest. In fact, maybe we should postpone dinner tomorrow.”

  “Nope,” James said, shaking his head. “I’m looking forward to having dinner with your mother. Baby, it’s so rare that I get to see my future mother-in-law. We need to get to know each other. Plus, I get to meet that Italian lover of hers you’ve told me about.”

  Damn! He’s not giving me any kind of break. “Fine, but don’t blame me when you need toothpicks to prop your eyes open at your next council meeting.”

  “Baby, my position on the City Council is an important job—I won’t be falling asleep. This job is an important step for me—for us, Arnell. The time I’m putting in now is insurance—”

  “Yes, I know—toward our future. James, you’ve told me a million times.”

  “Then you should know that our time together—”

  “Look, last night couldn’t be helped, okay?”

  “And why not? Did something happen that—”

  Arnell suddenly rose to her feet. “Will you please stop interrogating me and leave me the hell alone. I—”

  “Hey!” James shouted. “Why are you talking to me like this? What’s going on?”

  Arnell stared blankly at James. She tri
ed to tell herself to calm down. She was messing up big time.

  James glared at her. “I have not raised my voice or disrespected you.”

  No he hadn’t, but Arnell couldn’t take another minute of his inquisition. God, what am I supposed to do? Arnell began to rub the tenseness out of her forehead.

  “Arnell.” James leaned forward in his chair. “I was worried about you last night. If you have a problem with that, sue me, because I will worry about you when I can’t reach you.”

  Arnell stood mute. I can’t keep living this lie.

  “I know you think I’m checking up on you, but you’re wrong. I had reason to worry. I called Sharise—she hadn’t heard from you . . . ”

  Arnell fixed her eyes on James’s mouth. She watched his teeth appear and disappear behind his lips as he spoke.

  “. . . You weren’t at your mother’s like you said. You ignored my calls. Are you seeing someone else? Is that it?”

  “Of course not!” She could not pull her eyes from James’s mouth. “I don’t want anyone else.” Arnell’s own lips quivered. That was the truth. She wasn’t seeing Woodruff Parker—he was business. “You don’t trust me?”

  “Baby, we’re getting married next year. I think by now we’re supposed to be trusting each other.”

  Arnell sank slowly back onto the sofa. She felt lousy. She didn’t deserve James, and if he didn’t stop talking, she feared she would blab everything right then and there, but then a bolt of realization. Telling James the truth without Esther being present wouldn’t carry as much weight if Arnell couldn’t see the look of defeat in Esther’s eyes.

  “Arnell, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “I am not afraid.” I am petrified. “I just have nothing to tell.”

  James threw up his arms. “I’m done. I guess I’m just reading you wrong, or maybe I’m just stupid.”

  “Would you please stop browbeating me?” She was sick to her stomach with this conversation. “You want to know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you. I’m sick and tired of the third degree.”

  “That’s obvious,” James said drily. “The question is why?”