Bleeding Honey  (Victory and Vengeance)

By Jason Colpitts

©Jason Colpitts

     Matthew Oliver - Press Writer - Oaktown Gazette

     What caught my attention was not her warm smile despite the slowly lowering coffin.  It was neither her graceful demeanor, nor the elegant lace worn by this regal older woman.  It was the way she turned her head when she thought no one was looking.  Distracted from her husband's death, her forlorn gaze focused instead onto another grave, one at the edge of the cemetery, unmarked by a name or date.  

     Then, her shaking eyes drowned in a terrible sadness, the depths of which I could never fathom.

-

     My first assignment was to cover a funeral, an obituary actually, as the family hadn't submitted one.  I knew who they were, vaguely, an elderly couple with a daughter, married in town.

     Strange, I thought as I stood there.  She wasn't present.

     Birds were chirping amidst the scent of flowery perfume.  Only five people observed the proceedings.  One gave a short uneasy talk as the others listened patiently.

     Once it ended, a friend of the elderly woman began tucking her into a nearby limousine.  I quickly crossed the green, approached the window of her black sedan, and tapped on the glass.  She nodded her head and smiled.  The driver spotted me and frowned as he sped away.

     "That woman wouldn't swat a stinging bee," said the man strolling behind me.

     His recognizable voice was gravelly and deep.  Everybody liked to hear Tony speak.  He was one of two local barbers for a scant five hundred people, retired.

     "She seems like a nice lady," I responded. "The proceedings went beautifully."

     "It did," he agreed, "There wasn't a whole lot to say anyhow."

     "Oh?" My tone begged for more.

     "We don't want to speak ill of the dead, Jimmy.  I'll just say that Mrs. Victoria's an incredibly patient woman.  I'll see you around."

     "Wait, I need information for the obituary."

     Tony smirked, realizing that I was intentionally probing. "I heard the Paper gave you the job."  He winked.  "Okay, okay, let me tell you a story about Dave and Victoria..."

     A long time ago, Victoria stepped into the barber shop, fresh as a daisy, with the young child skipping behind, gripping her ice cream cone for dear life.  Her tongue lapped the dripping treat with alarming speed.

     Dave grabbed his wife's arm roughly. "How much did you waste, Victoria?!"  

     When Tony noticed, Dave's tension eased a bit, but he never let go.

     Tony glanced at a brown bag by the barber's chair and then at Victoria. The ice cream couldn't have cost more than the liquor.  There she was, smiling, warm and friendly as always - never complaining.  Did she get his point?  Was there just too much goodness in her?

     "Sweetie, you don't need to worry about money.  We're getting by - besides, Miss Dougherty bought the ice cream," she explained.  "My goodness, so many coming out to say hello.  Don't we just love it, Cindy?"  Smiling sweetly, she poured honeycomb kindness over his bitter acrimony.

     "Yes mama!" Little Cindy chimed in.

     Suddenly, Dave screamed, "Fool child!  That sugar's gonna bring da bees!"

     In a flash, he snatched the ice cream.  Tony's buzzer slipped.  Tears bubbled up in his child's eyes as Dave took a huge bite, leaving nothing behind.

     Tossing the empty cone back into his sobbing daughter's hands, Dave faced the mirror.  The buzzers had mowed a fresh jagged line across his head.  It was Dave's fault, but Tony knew what was coming.

     Dave pointed the finger. "You daft fool!  You ruined my hair!"

     Dave wasn't always this way.  Something changed recently.  The gossip in town was that he gave up on life.

     So he decides to make everyone else's life miserable instead?  What happened to you? Tony thought to himself. Your neighbors cherish their time with your family whenever YOU'RE not around!

     The self-centered man vomited more sewerage before leaving.  Dave yanked his wife and child away as he screamed, "You know I ain't gonna pay for this, right?!"

     Tony abruptly stopped talking, obviously still galled by Dave's behavior.

     "Wait!  How's that supposed to help?" I asked.

     "In my opinion, that tells you everything you need to know.  Go see Ellie, Victoria's friend, if you want more.  They spent a lot of time together.  Give it a week.  Ellie will be clucking away at the salon again."

     "Back from where?"

     "She's bringing Victoria back to the hospital now.  The festival this year was in her honor.  She and Dave were attacked by a swarm of bees in the middle of the Flower Fair."

-

     My next visit with Victoria's daughter was a dead end - but haunting.  She said she wouldn't spare an extra second on "such a man".  After that she slammed the door in my face. 

     Why?  Why did Victoria stay with "such a man"? I wondered, over and over.

     That look in her eye at the cemetery spurred my desire to learn more.

     After a week I went to the hair salon.  True to Tom's word, it looked like a chicken coop filled with cackling women, laughing and bobbing their heads up and down at each other's comments.  Ellie was in the far corner, away from eavesdroppers.

     "Hi, Ellie!" My voice had a friendly tone. "I'm sorry for my forwardness at the cemetery.  My editor can be very demanding.  You know how Sam gets."

     "Mmmm...Hmmm!" She totally agreed.

     "He wanted an obituary.  You see..."

     "The family didn't want to submit one." Ellie was ready to gossip. "There was something strange about Dave.  He had a dark heart, bitter, jealous, like something was eating him alive.  He didn't venture out.  Dave was a beater too, not Cindy mind you, but his wife.  Victoria had bruises.  She wouldn't say.  I think she took the brunt of his punishment.  Victoria ruefully protected her daughter.  Cindy hated him for it."

     "Why didn't she leave when Cindy was grown?" I inquired.

     "It had something to do with her first love."

     "Her first love?!" My heart leapt out of my chest.

     "Yes!" She was delighted to divulge more. "One evening almost sixty years ago..."

     Flowers of every variety graced the center of town, breeds and colors of all types imaginable.  Ella Fitzgerald played on vinyl. 

     "I can't believe you put all this together!" Ellie said gleefully. "How much did this cost?"

     "When I locate a unique breed, it's priceless!" Victoria answered, full of joy.  "It's my gift to the town!  I want to hold one every year, more than that, a festival for every season!"

     "Well, everybody's going to love you!" Ellie said matter-of-factly, and then corrected herself and added with a sneaky grin, "Everyone already does, but, something else is making you smile."

     "Okay. Okay.  I met a guy!"

     "Does Dave know?!  You're practically engaged," Ellie blurted out.

     "We're not engaged!" Victoria stated firmly.

     "When did you meet?  Where?"

     "...a couple weeks ago."  Victoria excitedly cut her off.  "He's so handsome.  I was collecting flowers near the tracks.  He works with the railway crew.  We snuck into the woods, he read me poetry, we talked, and we held hands.  When I'm with him, I feel like I'm really me!"

     "You're in love!" Ellie squealed.

     "Shhh!  Not so loud!  I don't want anyone to know - not yet.  Dave's actually afraid of coming out to the fairgrounds.  He's allergic, you know.  But if he found out, he would brave the bees.  The Flower Fair attracts so many of them.  Anyway, I can't believe the Show came together in just a couple days."

     "Well, it's beautiful."

     "Not as beautiful as she is," came a voice behind them.  His accent was slightly Russian.

     "Victoria..." Elite stuttered, "Is-is that him?  He looks like James Dean!"

     "Did you have a chance to talk to him?" Victoria turned toward the boy and asked.

     "Everything's all set.  I talked to the boss.  He thinks I can get some local maintenance work.  It'll mean less money but I can stay.  There's a good chance."

     Victoria was elated!  While jumping and giggling, she grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the crowd.  People stopped and stared, confused.

     "What's going on?" Ellie had to know.

     "I'll tell you later!" Victoria laughed as they disappeared, running away from town.

     "And then what?" I desperately asked.

     Ellie stopped and stared sullenly at the wall.

     "What happened then?" I repeated.

     "Nothing," she answered. "He died later that night in a railway accident.  Victoria sobbed for weeks.  Her parents found out and harangued her.  Tensions against the Russians were high.  They claimed he was a Communist and Victoria couldn't convince them otherwise.  Two months later she agreed to marry Dave.  Eventually she came out of it, but not before her daughter was born."

     I sat back, digesting the information.  We grew silent.  Victoria was forced to forget true love.  The weight she endured was incredible.

     After a time, another thought occurred to me.

     "Ellie, how long after the wedding was Cindy born?"

-

     After that, I traveled around to do more digging.  At the Town Hall, several women extolled Victoria's virtues.  So did the people at the Clerk's Office, the post office, the Pharmacy, everywhere.  They shared one special story after another.  She helped them in times of need, offered money which she needed herself, coerced Dave into sheltering some, and passed out one heartwarming meal after another.

     As soon as I had a few very telling details, my sights zeroed in on the hospital.

     Victoria's room was swamped with flowers.  Everybody from this town and the next five over sent her a gift.  The woman's reputation spread far and wide.  

     "Hello Jimmy!" Her aged voice was raspy and belabored.  Red welts covered much of her neck and arms.  "I've heard you've been asking some folks about me," she added.

     "Everybody said that you were the sweetest, most honorable, generous, and kind person they had ever met."

     "That's sweet to say, Jimmy."

     "Miss Victoria, I've been plagued by something.  Can I ask you a question?" I waited for her to nod and then changed directions, "Why did you stay with your husband, after all the abuse?"

     "That's easy, Jimmy.  I was waiting.  Did you know you can measure a man by the number of people at their funeral?"

     Her point was clear.  Dave's funeral was devoid of observers.

     "The Clerk's Office confirmed a detail which I was wondering about," I continued. "Cindy was born seven months after you married Dave.  Victoria, did you ever tell him that Cindy wasn't his daughter?"

     She took a deep breath and answered, "He didn't deserve it."

     "Why not, Miss Victoria?" I asked gently.

     "It's about time somebody knew the truth, Jimmy.  Leonid and I married that evening, after the Flower Festival.  In the early morning, we parted ways.  I snuck home to break the news to my parents, and he went back to the train yard.  His body was found later that day.  The police ruled it an accident as he slipped, banged his head, and fell unconscious onto the tracks.

     "I fell into despair.  No matter what, I couldn't keep anything in my stomach for weeks.  I realized that I was pregnant.  Dave was acting strange and I was scared.  I married him quickly and was going to tell him, but then one night a few months later he went down to the bar...

     "Victoria!  Victoria?"

     Dave was lying in the gutter, drenched in booze.

     "Yes, the bar called.  I'm here."

     He spit out a stream of nonsense, "Victoria, mime think I'm a tittle, drunk."

     "Yes, let's get you home."

     "I've funny feeling in my s-s-stomach."

     "You've had more than ever!"

     "No, not the booze, because of worry, Victoria...  I worry about the guy, from your flowers show."

     "W-what?" Victoria whispered in horror.

     "I-I gut away with it.  Don't you member what happened?  People from the show told me about you - and him.  I went to the tracks.  There were bees everywhere!  Banged his head.  I got away with it, myself, got away with it!"

     "What did you do?  What do you do?!!!" Victoria screamed.

     "Save me.  Save me, Victoria!  The bees are trying to k-kill me.  They smell m-my allergy.  They want me to join him.  I killed him, Victoria.  They want revenge!!!"

     "Are you alright?" The bartender heard the commotion.

     Victoria wiped the tears from off her face and stoically replied, "Yes, Mitch, we're fine.  Thank you."

     For a lifetime she controlled the fury.  Now the floodgates were opened.  By the time Victoria finished, she was bawling.

     "I died that day!  Death was too good for Dave.  His life was mine to claim.  Living with himself was the worst of suffering.

     "While he was hitting me, I was studying him.  I stole his money and turned misery into joy - like obnoxious pollen into sweet honey!  He paid for the Flower Fairs, the Harvest Festivals, and more.  He funded everything.  I accepted a lifetime of abuse to revel in his daily terror, hiding from the bees, from his past.  I squeezed his phobia of the bees until he bled honey!

     "I convinced him to come - after all, they were throwing the Fair in my honor.  It was hard to create the perfect potion of flowers, sugar tea, and honey to attract the BEES!  I stood there with my arms around him - just to see the horror in his eyes.  He knew where his judgment came from.  He died with nothing - penniless, childless!!!"

     Her tears, somehow, seemed different.  Hers were not tears of sadness, but of pure, unadulterated rage.

     I stumbled out of the room, horrified.  The world was spinning.  Several nurses rushed over.  I guess I passed out.

     When I came to, a friendly nurse had a light in my eye.

     "You alright there friend?  You gave us a scare," she asked.

     "I'm alright.  Is Victoria...?"

     "I'm sorry, no.  She died a few minutes ago.  What a wonderful woman!  Her husband passed away a week ago.  He had a terrible phobia, you know.  Did you know the EpiPen was in her pocket the whole time?  It's a shame they had to go like that."

     I nodded in response.

-

     Victoria died content, fulfilled.

     Her obituary was a collection of personal narratives.  Many submitted a story or two.  They jammed the Sunday newspaper from cover to back.

     After we spoke, Cindy arranged for her mother to be buried alongside her one true love.  Since his family name was unknown, Cindy arranged for their gravestones to be etched as Leonid and Victoria Mstislav.  Her name now means "victory" and "vengeance".

     As for Dave, I finished his obituary.  It read: "Dave Carter. No surviving relatives."

     Victoria once said that you can measure a person by the number of people at their funeral.

     Over two thousand came to hers.