Honey Beaumont

by Sara Bushway

  "Honey," he replied.

  She stared at him in silence, seemingly taking her time studying his features. Though nearly toothless, she smiled and slid her hand up to his face into his messy hair. "Oh, Honey. I bet it's because of this beautiful honey-golden hair," she said. "I bet your momma fell in love with those golden locks and just couldn't help herself."

  Honey didn't have the heart to tell her the truth about his name, so he nodded and rolled his eyes in mock-embarrassment. He felt like he couldn't tell Nana and the others anything about his past, what little he knew, not if he wanted to stay.

  "Now, sit down," Nana said, gently pushing him back to his chair and pulling down on his arm until he sat. "You look wiry. Sit on down and have some good home-cookin'. "

  "Thank you," Honey replied. He smiled over at Chroma, who was beside herself with giggles. She seemed to enjoy Nana's interaction with Honey. Truth be told, so did he. He hadn't met many women of such advanced age in his previous life. Even Anastasia was still young enough that she was expected to entertain and keep up her beauty regimens for the enjoyment of her onlookers. Nana seemed to have passed this age quite some time ago, but it didn't matter. Honey saw her freedom to be herself; wrinkles, ratty dress, and all as an existence that was just as beautiful, possibly more so, than Anastasia's extensive efforts to keep her beauty intact. Dane taking on her daily make-up was a small favor in comparison to how long it took to dress her, do her hair, tend her nails, treat her skin with lotions. The list went on and on. But Nana seemed as though she did none of these things, and nobody expected her to.

  Menna approached the table and placed large platters containing eggs, bacon, biscuits, and chipped potatoes on a turntable in the center. Honey waited for Menna to sit down and serve herself first, as the lady of the house would normally be expected to do. He also noticed that a plate had been put in front of Nana, despite her supposed distaste for solid foods.

  Menna finally sat down and looked at the others. "What are you waiting for? Eat!"

  Chroma let out another little giggle and began to scoop eggs onto her plate. Menna followed suit. Deciding that his growling stomach could wait a little longer, Honey took Nana's plate.

  "What would you like, Miss Nana?"

  Nana laughed. "Miss? I haven't been a 'miss' in a very long time, boy. It was Chromadecaelum, and now it's just Nana."

  Honey blinked at her."Chromade...du-what?"

  "Chroma-de-caelum," she enunciated. "It means 'colors of the heavens.' Little Chroma was fortunate enough that her mother could not spell it."

  Menna gasped in mock frustration. "I can spell it! I just wanted to make it a little simpler! No one ever called you by that anyway!"

  "Oh," Honey said, beaming at Chroma. "You were named after Nana's birth name." Chroma nodded.

  Honey nodded back and asked, "So what does 'Nana' mean?"

  "Old bat that likes to make trouble," Menna said with a smirk.

  Nana had a good laugh at that too, but Chroma kept herself together enough to answer. "It means grandmother."

  Honey's face pinked. "Oh, I-I-I'm sorry. I guess I've never heard of that before now."

  The three chuckled on, turning the turntable and filling their plates. "It's fine, Honey-boy," Nana said, wiping a happy tear from her eye. She snatched up his plate and started to fill it, spinning the merry-go-round of dishes with effortless ease as she piled on too much of everything. Then she placed it in front of Honey and plucked her own empty plate from his hand. "Here you are. Eat up."

  "Wha-what about you, Nana?"

  "I'll just have some coffee," Nana said, placing her empty plate in front of her and picking up her coffee mug with both hands.

  Honey ate his breakfast in silence, embarrassed at the obscene portions Nana had seen fit to dump onto his plate but at the same time grateful that she had. He wasn't as worried about withering away to nothing as Nana seemed to think he should be, but he was very aware that his run-in with Ettie had taken a toll on him. It still didn't strike him as the worst thing he had ever been through. Beaumont had used starvation as a form of punishment once or twice but quickly learned that starved workers sometimes led to unconscious workers, which only appealed to a very small portion of their clientele.

  If Nana has her way, I might be a little bigger before I move on from here, Honey mused to himself.

  The following day, Honey began his regimen for taking care of household chores and looking after Nana, based on a list of duties Menna wrote down and recited for him. Once his main-house duties were finished, he cleaned and organized his little house out back while Nana napped. He didn't want to spend much time out there other than to shower and sleep. He found that he didn't much care for the solitude of it all. Helping out around the house and taking care of Nana, who had taken quite a liking to him, was very fulfilling. He helped her eat, dress, bathe, and move about the rooms of the house, making sure to keep her dignity intact, and his eyes averted when the situation called for it. She especially seemed to enjoy spending time in the living room with him when Chroma came home from school. Soon after Chroma came home, the postman came and knocked on the door. By the time Honey opened it, the man in uniform was already up the street, passing houses at a swift pace despite being on foot. He looked down and spotted a trunk sealed by magic. He had only ever seen large jewelry boxes and cash boxes sealed in this way, but the trunk was nearly full-sized like that of a costume trunk. He pulled it into the house, noting how heavy it was, and turned it around.

  "Who is it for?" Chroma asked from over his shoulder.

  "Me," Honey replied. "My name is on the delivery tag." He put his hand on the latch of the trunk with his fingers splayed. There was a soft hum as the spell keeping the trunk locked deactivated and click as the spiral latch spun to the open position. Inside the trunk were all of Honey's clothes, neatly folded inside with Loretta's perfume bottle sitting on top.

  "Oh my goodness," Honey said. "It's all of my things. I wonder how..or who--"

  "It doesn't matter," Chroma interrupted. "Why don't you go put your things away, and we'll continue our studies when you get back?" Honey nodded, noting her lack of surprise or even interest in the sudden appearance of the trunk, and took the trunk to the guest house.

  Chroma continued her reading and writing lessons with him, day by day. They had even begun frequenting the library to trade out reading materials that might help him to improve. As luck would have it, the librarian never addressed Honey about the missing book. When Honey looked for the book in the spot he had taken it from, he discovered a new copy sitting in its place. It looked as though it even had the same wear and tear from use, not like a new book. How strange, Honey thought, until Chroma explained, "It could be another used copy from another library, or perhaps someone in the house you lived in knew a conjuration spell. Powerful wizards can create matter from the remains of a destroyed object. Some can even recreate objects from the matter of other things like making a book from sand or wood." Honey looked in awe of the book. None of the boys had displayed such magical abilities, but it seemed all of them had their secrets.

  Or maybe Anastasia had a change of heart, he reasoned. Mostly, he was just glad he hadn't left a blank space on the shelf.

  *****

  A week passed, and the morning came when Honey decided that he was ready to start making more of a life for himself. He got up and went to the main house to help Nana get ready for breakfast, as he usually did. Menna and Chroma appeared shortly after to start cooking and setting the table. After breakfast was served, he waited for a break in the small talk between Menna and Chroma and said, "So, I'm going to go out and look for work today." The ladies all looked at one another and smiled back at him.

  "Well, that's great, Honey," Menna said. "There's no pressure for you to rush out, but I'm sure you don't want to live in a decorated shed any longer than you have to."

  "Oh, no. It's great," Honey beamed, "but I really want to get myself together and have a home someday. May
be a home like this one. Though, I don't think I would need the little extra house out back."

  "That's why we used it for storage," Chroma said.

  Menna nodded, "And we're glad that we have it for you to use. I'm sure you will have a home of your own someday. You're a nice young man, and you seem like you're going places."

  Honey nodded back to her. "I sure hope so."

  They prattled on about this thing and that, but there was one thing that never seemed to come up that kept crossing Honey's mind.

  The conversation petered out, and Chroma rose from the table. She placed her dishes in the sink and came back, looking as though she had forgotten something.

  "Someone has to look after Nana, so I can't go with you. Will you be ok going with Mom?"

  "I'm off to work, dear," Menna said, taking her dishes to the sink as well.

  Honey looked back and forth between the two of them. "Could...could I go with you?" he asked Menna. "I don't really know the area, and...I don't yet know where to look for work."

  Menna smiled. "Gladly, Honey. I've already asked my boss if we're looking for a dishwasher or something, but he said that we're not. There are a few places nearby that might be looking, though. Just stay north of Maple street. Any further south, and you start finding the bad end of town."

  "Of course," Honey nodded. He gathered the rest of the dirty dishes from the table, took them to the sink, and began to wash them before Menna could protest.

  "Can't argue with that," Menna said with a light chuckle and excused herself to go get ready for her shift.

  After finishing the dishes and putting Nana back to bed, Honey rushed back to the little house to change into one of the outfits he had modeled after Dane's standard dress.

  I wonder how he is, Honey wondered as he put his belt through the loops of his nice slacks. He pushed the thought from his mind, afraid that he might become upset, and joined the others in the house.

  *****

  Menna came to the door, shooed him out ahead of her, and locked the door behind them. She stopped and looked at him for a moment with a hint of embarrassment in her eye.

  "I suppose I forgot to tell you that we don't have an auto," Menna said. "I hope that won't be a problem, you walking around to look for jobs and such, I mean."

  "No, that's fine. I'm used to being on my feet for a long time. I'll be fine. I wouldn't know how to use one anyway." He looked around, taking notice that there weren't many autos parked on their street, and then back at Menna. "Is there a reason why you don't have one?"

  Menna sighed. "It just costs too much. It costs to buy one, costs to have one, and costs to run one. That was always the way of things, even before the take-over, but now it's so much harder with all of the men being drafted and all."

  "Yeah." Honey agreed though he had little knowledge of what she was talking about. He knew the government employed people with magical abilities, but he didn't understand the point of making someone serve their people if they didn't want to or why they didn't employ many women. Then again, the existence of Nobodies and of the pleasure industry was a testament to how far things had gone down the rabbit hole in terms of morality.

  "You look nice," she said, walking past him and starting down the sidewalk.

  "Thank you," Honey said, speeding up a little to catch up with her.

  Menna pointed out a flower shop. "I used to work there. Maybe they need some help." Honey looked and saw an older woman organizing bouquets of flowers on a stand outside of the shop itself.

  "Did you quit there to work at the diner?"

  "No," Menna replied. "I was only working there during the days that I was not working at the diner so that I could pay for Chroma to go to school. I guess you would already know this, but not all kids get to go to school. It's an expensive affair."

  Honey nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I never got to go. I'm glad that Chroma does. She's really smart and seems to like it."

  "Well, it used to be mandatory that all children went to school. When things got worse after the third war, it was only government personnel and their kids that got to go to school because there weren't enough teachers to have schools running everywhere. They also started the business of buying and selling people to richer people to do jobs and such. Those people certainly didn't need schooling in the eyes of the ministers. Gods help us if the lowest of the lower class could read and write enough to better themselves." Honey chuckled at her snark. "It's a shame, really, but the school she attends is the only one in the state, and it costs us dearly," she continued. "I made more money at the diner, but I needed more money to be able to send her there after her father was called to service. Then the diner started offering me more hours, so I quit the flower shop. I was sad to leave it, but I have to do what is best for my little girl."

  "I'm sure she's grateful," Honey said. "I know I would be. Maybe someday I'll be able to go to school."

  "I hope so. Anyone who wants to go to school should be allowed to. You can never be too smart."

  She pointed out a few more little shops here and there where Honey could try to find work. She told him he could go on ahead and get started if he liked, but Honey insisted on escorting her to and from work as a matter of safety and respect.

  "Well, aren't you a fine gentleman?" Menna grinned. "I hope you find yourself a nice girl someday to use all of this charm on."

  Honey shrugged. "Maybe. Well, actually..." He stopped himself there. In order to explain Loretta, he would have to explain his past, and he wasn't quite ready to spring that on Menna. Not just yet. But Menna was very intuitive.

  "Oh, I see," she said, slowing a bit to look him in the eye. "There already is a nice girl."

  Honey chuckled nervously. "Yeah--well, no...I mean, she's real, but...we're not 'together' together...but--"

  "It's complicated," Menna nodded. "I get it. Courting is a difficult business."

  Honey nodded back to her, deciding it was best to leave it at that. They stopped in front of the little diner where Menna worked. To Honey's surprise, she took his hands in hers.

  "This is my work. I'm off at seven. I know you don't have a watch, but there's a bell-tower in that Church-and-State building over there. It chimes every hour. If you need to stop and ask for help, try to stop in a shop. I would hate for you to be unsafe." Menna stopped, her smile fading. "I'm sorry if you feel like I'm lecturing you. I used to tell Chroma the same thing every time she went on her own, and from what little Chroma has told me about you, you might not know the ways of the world so well."

  Home smiled up at her in silent agreement.

  "Right here, seven o'clock," she repeated.

  Honey parroted the phrase back to her and watched her go inside. He looked around at the sparsely populated street. There had been many more than this when he and Dane had gone shopping in their district but having fewer people around gave him the strangest feeling of being more exposed than he had been in the crowd. He felt noticed.

  Come on now, Honey, he told himself. You've stood stark naked in front of more people than this...maybe not all at once, but still. Just pretend you belong here.

  He put on a winning smile and started into the closest shop. It was a little bakery that seemed to specialize more so in bread than desserts, something that Honey didn't quite understand. It was sort of like the pre-tailored clothes at the store Dane had taken him to. How did they know they would fit anyone? And how did this shop know what types of bread the people around here needed? What if the bread didn't sell? He dared not address it to the baker in charge, else they might question his loyalty to the bakery if he ever got hired, but questions zoomed through his mind at an alarming rate.

  He walked up to the counter and asked for the baker, which was met with some giggling by a couple of young ladies decorating cookies and placing them in the display cases. One of them went to the back and returned to the counter, an older woman following behind. Honey politely explained that he was looking for work and asked about any openings, which
was met with a polite decline. This was the way things went as he continued on to the tailor, the salon, several different coffee stands, and all of the shops down the way. He wasn't surprised at his lack of success, but he had hoped that avoiding talking about his previous life in the pleasure industry would help. It didn't.

  The big bell over the Church-and-State building bonged five times. He was running out of time if he was going to find something before Menna needed to be escorted home. He looked north up the road, where he hadn't found a single place in this small community that needed an extra pair of hands. Then he turned south. A few blocks off in the distance, he could see big signs with silhouettes of dancing women, claims of good beer, and offers for free buffets with the purchase of whatever it was they were selling. Apparently, one had to go inside to get the rest of the details.

  Menna said to stay in the north end, Honey told himself. But...I need to find work. I could do it again, just until I find something else...but I would be lying to them by not telling them about it.

  Honey sighed. He couldn't go back empty-handed, despite how nice Menna had been about his tenancy. But he couldn't tell Chroma and her family about his work if he worked down in the South end if he did manage to find a reputable place to work that wouldn't ask for anything official regarding his citizenship or lack thereof.

  He looked up the north end again and then to the south, steeled his nerves, and started toward the seedy signs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The air in the South End grew thicker and dirtier. It seemed that the establishments near the road were a smokescreen to keep patrons from seeing factories and processing plants. It didn't work well. Honey recognized the stench of burning steel and knew to cover his face with his sleeve, lest he breathes it in and gets sick.

  Or, perhaps it was their intent to force people inside by making outside so horrible, Honey thought. Noxious. That's the word. They made the air out here noxious.

  He came close enough to the strip to see the decorated entry to a large building before his eyes started burning. He nearly passed it but decided that his watering eyes needed a break from the harsh air. He went back and slipped through the extravagant, golden doors. Immediately, he felt some relief. The air inside was filtered somehow and smelled heavily of expensive rose oil.