Honeybee

by Craig Silvey;

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.

  I was still wet from the shower. I went back to the bedroom. In a pile next to the chest of drawers, I found the jeans and the hoodie I was wearing when I first met Vic. I put them on. My phone was still in the pocket. I sat down and crossed my legs and faced the wall and put my head against it and closed my eyes. I was lost and alone and I hated myself. I knew the police were coming. I was scared, but I was also relieved.

  I sat like that for a long time.

  Then there was a knock on the front door.

  I got to my feet and walked slowly down the hall. I paused outside Vic’s room. I didn’t want to wake him up to say goodbye. There was more knocking, fast and loud. I put my head down and went to the front door.

  It was Aggie.

  ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

  She was really angry.

  ‘Was it you? It’s all over the news. They’re saying a woman attempted a fucking bank robbery today, four fucking kilometres away. Apparently she handed over a note saying she had a bomb and her family was being held hostage. Was it you? Because that would be quite a fucking coincidence if it wasn’t!’

  I looked at my feet.

  ‘Answer me! Was it you?’

  I lifted my head and tried to speak, but Aggie already knew.

  ‘Holy fucking shit! What the fuck were you thinking? Why would you do something so … I mean … I can’t fucking believe it! I can’t fucking believe you would actually do this. You used me! I thought you were posing a hypothetical question, not looking for a co-conspirator in an actual fucking scheme to actually defraud an actual bank out of actual fucking money! I mean, are you fucking serious? How could you do that to me?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’

  ‘Fuck, Sam! I really liked you. Like, really liked you. My parents fucking love you. My mother’s practically subsumed you into our family, to the extent that she literally wants you to come to Aberdeen with us for a family holiday to meet everyone.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Like, I thought I had actually found a real friend. I felt like I could tell you anything. But now I don’t even know who the fuck I’m looking at. I don’t know you at all!’

  ‘You don’t know me.’

  ‘No shit! The Sam I thought I knew wouldn’t betray my confidence and put my whole future at risk to do something so fucking stupid. What’s going to happen if they catch you? I could be an accessory, do you understand that? My fucking internet search history alone is totally inculpatory.’

  ‘I would never tell them anything about you. I promise.’

  ‘Oh, you promise, do you? And how much fucking value does that have? Am I supposed to just trust you? Like you’re this stand-up guy who would look out for me?’

  Aggie shook her head and I could see she was fighting back tears.

  ‘What I don’t understand is why. Why would some rich kid risk throwing his life away to rob a fucking bank? You’re not some gentle, sweet-natured boy, are you? You’re a fucking arrogant, entitled jerk who has never had the burden of experiencing consequences. You know that one of your parents will make a call and bail you the fuck out of whatever mess you’re in. This is probably all some childish, attention-seeking, bullshit rebellion that they’ve had to indulge a hundred times before. But here’s the thing, Sam. Here’s the fucking thing. You’re not just being careless with your own life, you’re threatening mine. And I don’t have the advantages you do. I’m trying to build something, and you might have just torn it all the fuck down. What if I do get implicated? How am I going to face my parents? How am I going to apply for internships or universities or jobs, or any of the things that normal people have to navigate? But none of that has occurred to you, has it? Because you don’t actually give a shit about me or the trajectory of my life. If you did, you wouldn’t have been so casual about deceiving me. Fuck you, you fucking arsehole. Don’t ever come to my house again!’

  I didn’t have the chance to say anything, because Aggie walked away so fast. I wanted to go after her and tell her that I would never let her get into trouble, but it was too late, and everything she had said was right. I hadn’t thought about her. And I had ruined the only friendship I ever had.

  I closed the door and went back inside. Vic was awake now and sitting at the kitchen table. He was wearing an old blue singlet and shorts. He smoothed down his hair with his hands, but it poked straight back up again. He looked exhausted.

  ‘Who was that?’ he asked.

  ‘It was Aggie. From a few houses down.’

  Vic nodded.

  ‘Sit down, mate. I need to talk to you about some stuff.’

  I didn’t move.

  ‘I can’t take any more, Vic. I can’t do it. I’m sorry about what I did.’

  ‘It’s not about that. Listen. It’s important. I’m going to make some arrangements for you.’

  ‘What kind of arrangements? For me to go somewhere?’

  Before Vic could answer, there was another knock on the door. I thought Aggie must have come back, so I went down the hall and opened it.

  Standing outside were two police officers, a man and a woman.

  ‘Sam Watson?’ the lady asked.

  I wanted to slam the door and hide, but instead I froze.

  ‘I’m Constable Bowden, and this is Constable Russell. Could I ask you to come outside with me?’

  I didn’t move. I looked over my shoulder. I wanted to make sure Vic would be safe.

  ‘He didn’t know anything about it,’ I said. ‘It was all me.’

  ‘Come on outside, Sam. It’s alright.’

  Constable Bowden led me out to a black sedan in the driveway. Next to it was a police wagon. The lights weren’t on.

  ‘Am I under arrest?’ I asked.

  Constable Bowden opened the door of the black car.

  ‘Let’s just get you in here for a moment.’

  I sat inside and she closed the door. I watched her walk back to Constable Russell, and they both went into the house.

  ‘He didn’t do anything!’ I yelled out.

  I tried to open the door, but it was locked. The neighbours from across the road came out onto their lawn. I banged on the window to get their attention.

  ‘Can you let me out, please? Hello? Can you open the door?’

  They stared at me and didn’t move. I broke the plastic door handle trying to get out.

  After a few minutes, Vic came out. His hands were cuffed behind his back. He had his head down and he was being led by Constable Russell. I felt sick. I beat at the windows and screamed.

  ‘It was me! It was me! He didn’t know about any of it! He didn’t know!’

  Constable Bowden opened the back of the wagon and her partner pushed Vic inside then closed the door behind him.

  ‘Please don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt him! He didn’t know! He didn’t know!’

  They ignored me. Constable Russell got in the driver’s seat of the wagon and Constable Bowden stood beside the car I was in. I put my head in my arms and I rocked back and forth. When I looked up again, the police wagon with Vic inside was reversing out. Then it drove away.

  More neighbours had come out to watch. I saw Mrs Boyd speaking with a middle-aged couple outside her house. She was pointing towards me and nodding. Behind her I saw Mr and Mrs Meemeduma and Dylan standing on the kerb.

  The only person I didn’t see was Aggie.

  Jail

  They put me in a room that was bare apart from a table with two chairs on either side. There was a clock on the wall and a small camera attached to the ceiling in one corner. I knew I was in a lot of trouble, but all I cared about was Vic.

  I sat there for a long time before the door opened and a man walked in. He wore a black polo shirt tucked into grey chinos. He carried a folder and a bottle of water. He had short hair and he smelled like cologne. He sat down and put the water in front of me.

  ‘Sam, my name is Detective Buchanan.’

  �
��Vic didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all me. I planned the whole thing all on my own. Nobody else knew about it. Please let him go. Please.’

  Detective Buchanan held his palms up.

  ‘Okay, slow down. Listen, let’s wind back, okay? Just help me catch up.’

  ‘I didn’t even get anything. Nobody got hurt. I didn’t mean to scare anybody. It was a stupid thing to do. I shouldn’t have done it. But Vic honestly didn’t know. Please don’t arrest him.’

  ‘Sam, calm down. Sam.’

  I was shaking. Detective Buchanan bit the cap off a pen and opened his folder.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Tell me about Vic.’

  ‘I already told you, he didn’t know anything about it.’

  Detective Buchanan frowned and shook his head and wrote something down.

  ‘Can you describe to me how you two met?’

  ‘I don’t want to say.’

  ‘Was it online? Did he contact you on social media or anything like that?’

  ‘No. Vic doesn’t have a computer.’

  ‘So he approached you on the street somewhere?’

  ‘I don’t want to say.’

  ‘Okay.’ Detective Buchanan nodded and wrote on his pad again. ‘That’s fine. So let’s just say that after meeting and speaking with you, Vic invited you back to his house and encouraged you to stay with him—is that correct?’

  ‘No. No, I asked if I could stay with him.’

  ‘And how long ago was this?’

  ‘I don’t know. A few weeks.’

  ‘A few weeks?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re sure about that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He went quiet and scribbled on his pad again.

  ‘I don’t like it when you write things down,’ I said.

  ‘Sorry. It’s a habit.’

  He put the cap back on the pen. He watched me for a moment, and I looked away.

  ‘Did Vic ask for anything in exchange for you living with him?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Like rent money, or … some other kind of trade.’

  ‘No. I cook him dinner though. And I clean the house. I try to look after him.’

  ‘And how else does Vic want you to look after him?’

  I was really confused.

  ‘He doesn’t want anything really. He’s just nice to me, so I want to be nice back.’

  ‘And how is Vic nice to you?’

  ‘I don’t know. He’s just … nice. I can be myself around him.’

  ‘Does he say nice things to you?’

  I thought about it.

  ‘Not really. Well, maybe, I guess. He told me I looked beautiful once. That meant a lot.’

  Detective Buchanan leaned back and folded his arms.

  ‘He said you were beautiful?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay. And where do you sleep at Vic’s place? Do you have your own room?’

  ‘Yes. I sleep in his bedroom.’

  Detective Buchanan nodded, then he leaned forwards.

  ‘Sam, I’m going to ask you something quite personal, okay?’

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘Has Vic ever expressed himself physically?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Has he ever touched you, or encouraged you to touch him?’

  I blushed and shook my head.

  ‘What? No. He never wanted anything like that. He’s a nice man. He’s the nicest man I have ever met. He just wanted to help me, and I ruined everything. I told you, Vic didn’t have anything to do with it. Put me in jail. I don’t care. But let him go home. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s a good person. I don’t get why you’re asking me all these questions.’

  Detective Buchanan sighed and looked through some of the papers in his folder.

  ‘Have you been in contact with your mother since you’ve been staying with Vic?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You didn’t reach out to anybody to tell them where you were? Not even your friends?’

  I shrugged. Detective Buchanan tapped the pen against his knuckles.

  ‘Sam, what’s your relationship with your mother like? Can you tell me about that?’

  I shrugged again.

  ‘Did you leave your home residence on your own terms? Was there any reason for you to feel unsafe or threatened there?’

  I shrugged and shook my head.

  ‘I’m trying to help you, Sam. Okay? But you’ve got to be honest with me so I can coordinate with the right departments. Tell me what’s been going on, mate.’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Detective Buchanan scratched his jaw.

  ‘Are you familiar with a Beverley Boyd?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Well, she has an interest in you. She’s what you might call a particularly vigilant neighbour. She’s contacted her local station on six separate occasions to report suspicions of an inappropriate relationship between a teenage boy and an older man at the address we found you at today.’

  ‘There’s nothing inappropriate about it.’

  ‘Since she could provide no evidence of her claims, our local officers weren’t inclined to follow up. She did also provide a first name and some photographs of you to the state missing persons centre but no report had been made.’

  ‘She took photos of me?’

  ‘Several. Now, this morning, your mother contacted the centre to report you missing. If it wasn’t for Beverley Boyd, she wouldn’t have been able to identify you from the database, and we wouldn’t have been able to locate you so quickly.’

  I shook my head. I hated Mrs Boyd. Detective Buchanan closed the folder.

  ‘But there’s something here that doesn’t add up for me, Sam, and I need your help. According to your mother, you’d only been missing overnight, which we both know isn’t true. And we both know she wasn’t aware that you were staying at Vic’s over the past few weeks. Do you see any reason why she would wait so long before making a report?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know about any of this. Why am I here? Why did you arrest Vic?’

  ‘He’s just answering some questions.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About your domestic situation and the nature of your relationship. It’s why I need you to be completely honest with me, Sam. And before you reunite with your mother, I want to be sure that home is a safe place for you. Your welfare is the most important thing here, and I need you to understand that you’ve got options.’

  ‘You don’t want to ask me about anything else?’

  ‘You tell me. What should I ask you about?’

  I went quiet for a while, trying to get my head around everything. I figured he must be tricking me into talking about the bank. Maybe Vic had told them the truth already, and the detective wanted to catch me in a lie.

  ‘Sam?’

  ‘Where is my mum?’

  ‘She’s been contacted and was told to come to the station.’

  ‘Is she here now?’

  ‘I presume so.’

  ‘Does she know I’m in trouble?’

  ‘Sam, you’re not in any trouble. You haven’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘What do you mean? Am I under arrest?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  My heart was pounding. Nothing made any sense. I looked up at him.

  ‘Wait, can I go? Like, now?’

  Detective Buchanan looked me in the eyes. Then he reached into his pocket.

  ‘Sam, I’m going to give you my card. If you need to get in touch with me for any reason at all, this has my direct contact details. Here.’

  I took it, but I didn’t want it.

  ‘Are you going to let Vic go too?’ I asked.

  Detective Buchanan stood up. He seemed disappointed in me.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you home.’

  My mum was sitting alone on a plastic chair in the administration area. She stood up when she saw me. She was thin and pale. Her hai
r was stringy and she was wearing one of Steve’s t-shirts and a pair of leggings. She ran towards me and hugged me really tight and she wouldn’t let me go.

  ‘Oh my God! My boy! My little boy. Sam.’

  She smelled different and she felt bony and small. She pulled away and put her hands on my cheeks and kissed my forehead and looked at me. She was crying. Her eyes were red with dark bags under them.

  ‘We looked everywhere,’ she said. ‘We went everywhere. I thought you’d gone. I thought you’d left us. Don’t ever do that again. Don’t ever do that to me again.’

  She held me close again and I held her back. I was feeling too many emotions at once. I was happy to see her because I loved her and she was my whole world, but I was angry with her for taking so long to try to find me. I felt embarrassed for causing all this to happen, and to have so many people looking at me. I was relieved that I was allowed to leave the police station, but I dreaded going back with her. I was still worried that someone would recognise me from the robbery, and I still felt guilty and ashamed and anxious about Vic and Aggie. I just wanted to sit in a small room on my own so I could breathe. Going to jail didn’t seem that bad.

  My mum put her arm around me and led me towards the automatic doors. It was dark outside.

  ‘What happened to you? Where did you go? Who was that man you were with? Where did you live?’

  Just as we were about to step outside, I heard coughing behind me. I knew exactly who it was.

  I ran back through the waiting area and past the administration desk. I followed the sound down a hall and then into another corridor. I saw Vic. He was coughing into a tissue. There was a man standing beside him, but he didn’t have handcuffs on anymore.

  ‘Vic, I’m here,’ I said.

  I rubbed his back and helped him to a chair next to a water fountain. I kneeled down beside him. As Vic wheezed, I talked fast and low, so that only he could hear.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorry they took you. It was all my fault. They don’t know anything about today. I just want you to know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.’

  My mum came charging down the corridor. She grabbed my arm and dragged me away from Vic, then she slapped him hard across the face.