by Sara Bushway
Honey's first week in Anastasia's house crept by. Learning how the lady of the house liked things done and where the different supplies and tools to do so was exhausting. He was grateful that her larger-than-average residential house was still only a fraction of the size of Beaumont's establishment. He was also grateful that he wasn't in charge of Ettie's or any of the other boys' rooms. The twins certainly knew how to make a mess of their room in the blink of an eye but always made sure to clean it all up before bed. Dane's room was neat and tidy. He had very few knickknacks, but he had a place for everything, and everything had its place. The worst part of his room was his medicine cabinet. Honey had yet to gather up the courage to ask him about his ailments, but judging by the small pharmacy in his bathroom, he must have been in far worse shape than he appeared. He hadn't seen Ettie's room, but he wagered that it was quite a mess, considering how much time he spent in there alone. He even took meals to his room some nights with no sign of ever returning the dishes to the kitchen.
One less thing to worry about, Honey thought as he finished polishing the fine, oak banister leading up to the wing of bedrooms. As the surrogate master of the house, it would be Dane's job to chide Ettie about it and force him to clean it all up. He dreaded to think about how that conversation would go. Ettie didn't seem interested in what anyone had to say, excluding their shared lady. If it came to blows, Dane definitely had the upper hand, but Ettie must have known how sick Dane was and how to hurt him. They'd lived together with Anastasia for a long time, it seemed. Honey couldn't imagine seeing Dane becoming that angry with any of them and hoped it would never come to that.
He found himself getting along with the others quite nicely. The twins took him in as their third almost immediately, sharing their favorite recipes and cleaning tips as well as games and pastimes with him as often as they could. Jez even gave him some hand-me-downs to wear until the lady could find time to take him shopping or have Dane do so. Ettie kept to himself unless called on by Anastasia and completed his chores quickly and quietly, even when the others were around. It soothed Honey’s mind to see that it wasn’t just him that the middle child of the bunch despised. According to the twins, Ettie had never really warmed up to any of them, though he had gotten closer to Dane than he ever had to them.
"To be fair, they’re closer in age," Jaq had said. "Dane was the first, and Ettie came shortly after. We’ve only been here for a couple of years."
I suppose it is easier to get along with someone who has more in common with you, Honey thought. He just always seems so...unhappy.
Dane hadn't found time to sit down with Honey and explain who Ashelynn was, but Honey guessed that its role was much like that of a handmaiden to a noblewoman. It only seemed to appear at mealtimes and sat in the corner at its own little table that Dane would bring out and set up just before serving. When Honey finally did get a good look at Ashelynn, he was only able to see its eyes -he couldn't decide if they were a soft blue or purple in color- against a backdrop of pale skin and some of its hair beyond its forehead. Though most of the hair was wrapped in black material and fastened by a silver clip at the bottom, Honey could see blond braids, like thick cornrows against its scalp, started just beneath the black material. It was taller than him, though not by much, and always wore black robes and a facemask like Medics of the People wore when combating a plague. It never spoke or even looked at any of the boys. It moved through the house like a ghost living in its own dimension and disappeared every night before bed. Honey suspected it was living out in the guest house with Gerig or hoped so anyway. If it wasn't, he couldn't imagine where it was sleeping because all of the bedrooms were occupied. He tried to talk to it once, wondering why none of the other boys ever did. By the momentary pause and blink, he knew it heard him, but it simply turned and glided away without response. From then on, he always addressed it with a simple "Hey there" and expected no response but hoped it would enjoy his kindness just the same.
It didn't take long for Honey to notice the importance of Dane's role in Anastasia's house—in the family. He did everything she had ever asked short of being a butler to her, and it seemed that was because Gerig did the housework of the lower class: serving her wine and cheese in her room while she read, tending her outdoor garden while she watched from the bay window in her bedroom, and other lowly tasks. But Dane was in charge of taking care of her. He brushed her hair, buffed and painted her fingernails, even applied her make-up like an artist painting a canvas. Every day, he painted a new masterpiece onto the soft curvatures of her face amid his other duties of cooking, cleaning, and running her errands. It also became quite clear early on that he was her Amadeo, her favorite boy.
Not that Honey ever cared to listen to the goings-on of the house after bedtime, but because his door was right next to Dane's, he could always hear Gerig's heavy footsteps in the hall as he slipped a folded note of summons under Dane's door, and moments later, Dane's steps as he left his room to service his mistress. He had been called four times during Honey's first week, while Honey had been called once and the twins not at all. He wasn't sure about Ettie, but he hoped that Ettie was more relaxed with her than he was with his fellow boys. He wondered what the notes actually said. Because he couldn't read, Anastasia made sure that Honey's summons were simple to understand. Instead of writing out when to come to her room and what to wear, she had a special system where she would kiss the paper with different colors of lipstick to indicate what she wanted from him. He only had a couple of sexy outfits to pick from, and more often than not, she wanted him there in five minutes. That meant she only needed to use a few colors to communicate her needs. That was fine by Honey. After all, he had to memorize all of that information. It didn't take him long to come up with a way to keep the colors straight. He borrowed artisan waxes designed to make colorful pictures from Jez and took a piece of paper from Anastasia's writing desk. He folded the paper and tore it into squares. Then he colored on the squares with waxes of similar colors to the lipsticks Anastasia used in her code and pinned the squares to the corresponding items in each outfit. It seemed a little over-complicated, but it would have to do until he could figure out something easier or learn how to read and write well enough, like the others.
Even after his first week in the home, Honey still had a lot of questions, but he could only bring himself to ask them sparingly, not wanting to seem ungrateful or unkind. Though, over time, some questions seemed to answer themselves. One of the questions Honey knew he could never bring himself to ask was about the twins. How did Anastasia consider the twins in terms of service? Were they one because they were of the same birth, or were they separate? How did that affect the rotation? Was there a rotation at all? It didn't seem so, considering how much more Dane was in charge of and how often he continued to be called, but the twins were eventually called on– together.
How odd that must be, Honey thought as he heard each of them get out of their beds and inspect one another’s appearance before starting down the hall. They’re brothers. Brothers and sisters shouldn’t be together like that. Then again, not knowing my parents…
He shook the thought from his mind and continued practicing his folding. He had found that Dane’s way of folding the long-sleeve shirts the twins had given him made them fit better in his dresser drawer. He knew he could have hung them up in his closet but hated how empty his dresser was. He had gotten rid of most of his clothing from Beaumont. Between being ill-fitted to his growing body, bad memories infused into the cloth, or stains that simply would not come out despite how hard he had scrubbed, he ended up with little more than his undergarments and a few of the nicer items Honey wore for Beaumont’s high-end clients. The high-end clothes had always been a point of contention for his old house. The rich clients expected their whores to be dressed to the nines in the latest fashion trends, and Beaumont had known that those clothes were the difference between repeat customers willing to pay out the nose for his product and the whores having an all-day penny-pok
er marathon. He replaced them almost yearly. Everything else was "still good" so long as it covered enough to make the client pay to see the good parts.
Honey smiled to himself, remembering one of his last few arguments with the man relating to his underwear. Beaumont insisted that it wasn’t important for Honey or the girls to replace their underwear because it was just "one more layer to take off." It only took one time of Honey wearing his cowboy chaps around with naught but a sock on his nethers to cover himself before Beaumont changed his mind. The girls were beside themselves, howling with laughter so hard that many of them got the hiccups. Beaumont, however, was not amused and saw fit to punish Honey by food rationing. Nothing but a heel of Betty's homemade long-loaves and a pint of water for every meal for a week. It was hard on his stomach but well-worth the silliness it brought out in the girls for quite some time after. They would giggle and mutter jokes about missing their stockings and such when they passed him in the hall, often winking to him to show it was all in good fun. The next week, Honey did find a little basket in his room with fresh, new underwear after his bath, which he suspected came from Betty.
I’d call that a win, he thought to himself, glad that he was finally able to get past how terrifying that man was. How easy it would have been for Beaumont to do away with him.
A gentle knock on the door brought Honey back to reality. He quickly put away the garment in his hand and answered the door.
"Hello, Dane."
"Hello, Honey," he said. "I’m running out to take care of a few errands for Anastasia. Would you like to—"
Honey turned and stuffed the final few items on his bed into his top drawer, knocking over the little green bottle on top. He righted the bottle, opened the second drawer, and pulled a red sweater Jez had given him over his head.
"--go," Dane finished, obviously impressed by Honey’s speed and enthusiasm.
Honey beamed, "Yes, I’m ready! Let’s go!"
Dane cocked an eyebrow at him and instructed Honey to meet him by the door in a few minutes. He had to take one of his medicines before he left the house for the day. Honey agreed and made quick work of closing his door as he stepped out into the hallway and ran down the hall and down the stairs to where his shoes lay neatly in line with the other boys'. He rarely wore them anymore, considering how neat and tidy Miss Anastasia kept her house, and Dane did all of the shopping for the house on his own. It seemed none of the other boys ever left the house unless they needed to see a doctor or something and were happy enough to stay inside, but Honey wanted more. He wanted to see the birds and the trees outside without having a pane of glass in between. He wanted to smell the fresh air and talk to strangers who weren't interested in seeing him naked. Despite everything Anastasia had given him, he craved freedom, and an outing with Dane would certainly give him a little taste of that.
Honey waited by the door, a little concerned about how long Dane had taken to finish up whatever he was doing, and bounced on the balls of his feet. Dane appeared and descended the stairs with a stack of books in his arm.
"So, where are we going?" Honey asked, still bouncing with excitement.
Dane chuckled, placed the stack on the table beside him, and slid his first shoe on. "Well, I need to go buy some postage stamps, pick up a refill of one of my medicines, go by the bank to look over our lady’s finances, and return some books to the library."
"Books?" Honey asked. "Anastasia doesn’t read many books. She owns the few that she reads."
Dane finished tying his other shoe and smirked up at Honey. "These aren’t hers. They’re mine."
Honey stopped bouncing and found himself gawking at the man as he had the first time he’d seen him.
"You...you read?"
"Yes."
"A-and..go to the library? For more?"
Dane nodded. "Yes."
Honey’s shock slowly churned into excitement in his stomach. He had never learned to read but had heard many stories about the wealth of knowledge contained in books. If Dane had access to the many books kept at the library…
"You must be a genius," Honey said aloud, "or a wizard or something."
Dane laughed and smoothed his jacket. "No, not yet," Dane said. "I just read a lot. Lately, I’ve been reading about birds." He picked up the stack and motioned for Honey to get the door.
Honey assumed that most people would have seen the events of the day as mundane, but he reveled in the everyday-ness of it. People milled around the streets in small clumps, carrying shopping bags and chatting up one another about the nip in the air, the sale at their favorite store at the end of the month, and any other nonsense that crossed their minds. They didn't see Honey the Whore. They just saw two guys walking around, minding their own business. It felt great to be accepted into their strange "Outside" culture. It was almost thrilling.
Dane bought several sheets of stamps from the Post Office, just like he had said they would, went by the bank and then the pharmacy. Honey had offered to carry Dane's books while they were at the bank and spent several minutes flipping through the pages, looking for words he might recognize while Dane spoke to the ladies at the desk. He did it again while Dane spoke to the pharmacist behind the counter, recognizing the same pages he had seen earlier but still unable to make sense of it. Some of the pages had pictures on them, though. They were simple, pencil drawings of birds from different angles. Honey assumed the text correlated with the pictures and wondered what the words said that the pictures didn't explain.
A clattering of items knocked Honey out of his wonderment and sent him spinning around, looking for what he had knocked over. It wasn't him. Judging by the black streak that vaguely resembled some dark creeper fleeing the scene, it was someone who had been watching him or maybe Dane from behind a shelf of glass bottles containing medicated swabs, some of which were now shattered all over the floor. The dark man slipped on one of the larger pieces of glass and fell into another broken bottle on the floor. Honey could see the deep gash in the man's face as he gazed up at Honey from beneath his bowler hat. Honey started to come toward the man, unsure of whether to help him up or attempt to apprehend him for the authorities, but Dane stopped him. And the man got up and got away.
"Are you alright?" Dane asked, putting a hand on Honey's shoulder as he inspected him.
"Yes, I'm fine--Who was that? Are we just going to let him get away?"
Dane shook his head. "It's not our place to chase him down. The pharmacist can call the police or the local Adventurer's Post if he wants, but that's his duty, not ours."
Honey blinked. "Does this kind of thing happen often?"
Dane shrugged. "A little more often than I'd like, but it's not all the time. Always let the authorities deal with it. It's too dangerous for you to get involved."
Honey looked around at the shattered bottles all over the floor and the smudge of blood where the man had fallen down. "Can we, at least, help him clean it up?" Dane smiled and nodded before carefully making his way back over to the counter and asking the pharmacist for some cleaning supplies. The pharmacist happily complied and thanked them both with a sweet when they finished, a simple bar of chocolate. Honey started to open his but stopped when he saw Dane slide his into his shirt pocket.
Perhaps, he's right, Honey thought, sliding the bar into his pocket. I'll save this for later.
Finally, Dane took Honey to the library to return the books. He commented on the building’s history and architecture as they ascended the steps to the double doors. It was a large, beautiful building that looked like it was made from white marble blocks, swirled with dark gray and black streaks. Atop the building was a short tower with a large bell, which Dane explained was from a long time ago when the building was their town hall and church.
"I assume you read that in a book somewhere," Honey giggled.
Dane nodded, "Yes, I did. There are a great many books on the history of Godfrey, and many of them sit right inside there." He pointed up at the doors. "You can find knowledge on al
most anything at the library."
Dane stepped ahead and opened one of the doors for Honey. He thanked the older boy and stepped just inside and to the left so that Dane could lead the way. An old man at a large, marble-slab desk peered down at the two through his spectacles and greeted them with a warm smile. Dane plucked the books from Honey’s arm and set them in a neat stack on the desk.
"I'm just returning these," Dane said, "and unless you need me for anything else, I'd like to show my friend around a little."
"Oh," the old man cooed down at Honey. "Of course! Of course! Take your time. And remember, he’ll need his own library card if he finds something of interest."
Dane nodded and thanked the man. He placed his hand on the back of Honey's shoulder and guided him past the foyer to the main room. Honey's eyes grew wide, and his mouth fell agape at the sheer number of bookshelves in this enormous room. There were so many that some shelves could only be accessed by means of tall ladders that brought them to a second level, and even those had shelves that went up high enough to need ladders too. He couldn't believe it. A handful of people sat at a bank of tables that had been set up in perfect formation in the middle of the first floor of books, reading and writing in quiet solitude.
"How-How many...?"
"Hundreds of thousands," Dane said, pointing out the upper level. "There are even little rooms with reference books that you aren’t allowed to take home. Not as many as you see here, but still more than I would want to have to carry home."
Honey’s eyes glistened. "This is amazing. This must be everything everyone has ever known in the world."
"Not even," Dane said. "Sometimes they don’t have the book you want, so they ask that it be sent from another library just like this one. It takes some time, though. They come by cart."
Honey’s eyes finally met Dane’s. He was embarrassed at what he was about to say but knew Dane would not be unkind if he told him.