Of Bees and Mist

  Elias endured the onslaught for twenty-one days without a single night’s rest. On the twenty-second morning, nerves strung to the breaking point, he staggered out of bed and threw on a coat. Eva quickly dressed and followed him. She said nothing during their walk to Willow Lane, but her bees did not let up their torment inside his head. Elias’s pale, harassed face contrasted horridly with his red eyes, enough to send a few schoolchildren fleeing in fright. When they got to the house, Noah was having a tantrum in the kitchen: He wanted his mother, who had gone off to the market. Daniel, doing all he could to calm the boy, was relieved to see his father.

  “Grandpa’s here,” he told Noah, handing him to Elias. “Stop that bawling now.”

  “Go open the shop, son,” said Eva calmly. “We’ll look after him.”

  Too preoccupied to notice the signs, Daniel left the three of them together.

  There was nothing Elias could do to pacify Noah that morning. The boy refused to greet him, howled and flopped about when Elias held him, kicked his feet irritably when placed on the floor. Once or twice he stuck his tongue out at his grandfather. Elias did not remember that Noah had displayed the same tantrum a few weeks ago, and he had responded then by tickling the boy into laughter. Now he burned with anger and humiliation. Seeing her opportunity, Eva jumped in with a cry.

  “Are you convinced now? She’s turned him against you. Look at him!”

  Out of Elias’s sight Eva glared at the boy, keeping him anxious and petulant. Twenty-one days’ worth of bees droned on and on in Elias’s head.

  Noah, seeing how red his grandfather’s face had become, suddenly pointed and laughed. In Elias’s sleep-deprived mind, the laughter exploded like a terrible insult.

  “He’s mocking you!” seized Eva triumphantly. “This is what his mother’s been teaching him behind your back.”

  “Shut up, you monkey!”

  Elias’s roar, followed by a plangent smack to Noah’s head, shocked the boy into silence. Even Eva withdrew a little. Frightened, Noah dropped to the floor and scrambled under the dinner table.

  “Come out this instant!”

  “Mama! Mama!”

  Noah receded deeper. Angered beyond reason, Elias dropped on all fours and stuck his arms under the table. He took hold of Noah’s legs, but the boy, flailing in panic, kicked his knuckles with all his might. “Goddamn you!” Elias roared again, grabbing the boy’s ankles. In full force he began to drag him out, Eva goading from above, Noah screaming, twisting like a trapped animal. And then they heard it: the sound of bone smashing against wood. The dinner table jolted from the impact. Elias released his grip. A second later the boy whimpered, not daring to scream out loud.

  “Noah!”

  Drawn by the noise, Daniel ran in from the shop, pushed the dinner table aside, and gathered Noah in his arms. There was blood on the boy’s face, a gash on his right temple. Before Daniel could press a towel to the wound, a shout erupted from the door.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Rushing in with packages in hand, Meridia dropped everything on the floor. As soon as he saw his mother, Noah burst out crying.

  “Keep him calm.” Daniel handed the boy to her. “I’ll run and get the doctor.”

  He dashed out to the street. Murmuring, Meridia began the impossible task of quieting the boy. It did not escape her that Noah had raised his index finger, to point not at Elias but at Eva, who was standing by the stove with a horrified expression. Meridia had only to glance at her father-in-law to confirm the labor of the bees.

  Elias, who had not risen from the floor until then, started to stammer, more to Noah than anyone else. “It was an accident, you understand…an accident…” The instant the grandfather got to his feet, Noah cried louder.

  “Don’t come closer,” Meridia said sharply, more to Eva than anyone else. Giving her mother-in-law her deathliest look, she carried Noah into the bedroom and laid him down on the bed. Hushing, comforting him, she held a towel firmly to his temple and wiped the blood with another. The interminable wait began. Noah cried and cried and there was no sign of Daniel.

  Meridia did not leave her son’s side until the doctor Daniel brought home assured her that the wound was not deep. If there was to be a scar from the stitches, it would fade away with time. Only then did she go out to the living room, extract Eva from her seat, and hurl her against the wall. Eva’s bloodcurdling scream brought Daniel running out of the bedroom. Had he not moved quickly, Meridia’s fist would have loosened a molar or two.

  “It was an accident,” said Daniel as he held her back. “Nobody meant to hurt Noah. An accident was all it was.”

  “Don’t bother hiding your dirty hand,” Meridia spat at Eva. “You can try to harm me all you want, but leave my child out of this. If you ever lay a finger on him again, God help me, I’ll tear you apart with my own hands!”

  She trembled with rage and hatred. Daniel, who had never seen her in this state, released his hold silently. Eva, for once, said nothing in return. She stood with her back flat against the wall, lips pursed, palms curled, eyes downcast. Meridia swung on Daniel.

  “I won’t live like this anymore,” she said.

  She narrowed her gaze when she saw him waver. Hardened her jaw when he shook his head. At last, realizing that her will was stronger than his, he took a breath and cleared his throat. She did not seem like a woman then, but a man far more determined than he was.

  “We won’t need your help anymore, Mama,” he said. “From now on, Meridia and I will make our own way.”

  It was done, their dream of independence put into words. Like a bolt of lightning, the news pried Eva off the wall and set her tongue to work.

  “And how do you propose to perform this miracle? ‘Make our own way.’ You have no money, no shop, no house of your own. How will you survive without your father’s name to back you up? Have some sense, son. Noah banged his head against the table. It’s unfortunate but it happens to children every day. Why must you turn this into a crisis? Your wife, on the other hand—”

  A groan interrupted her, prolonged and anguished. It was coming from Elias.

  “Say nothing more, please. Let them do as they wish.”

  Eva turned to her husband and was shocked by the change in him. She was aware that he had been sitting quietly at the dinner table, removed from the scuffle, and had not stirred or spoken in some time. But now he stood with his head bowed, away from the light and contemplating his hands as though something in them were stirring his disgust. Lifting his eyes a fraction, he met his wife’s glance and shuddered in horror.

  “Did you hear what I said, Papa?” asked Daniel.

  Elias nodded but made no reply. Before Eva could rally her bees, Meridia spun on her heel and returned to the bedroom.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Twelve blocks east of Willow Lane lay the burgeoning neighborhood of Magnolia Avenue. Property number 70—two-story, plain, but full of light—stood in the middle of the shop-lined street. Formerly a bakery, the ground floor hosted a retail space with a kitchen, a dining room, and a little garden tacked to the back. Upstairs were three bedrooms, a bath, and a living room. Counted among the surrounding shops were a confectionery, two booksellers, a clockmaker’s studio, clothing stores, eateries, and specialty boutiques. At sundown the white lanterns strung between the two sides of the street came on, and performers rushing from Independence Plaza joggled for space in the sidewalks to compete for coins.

  Meridia bought new furniture for the house. Putting Eva’s haggling skills to good use, she acquired a handsome dining set at a deep discount; a sofa, chairs, coffee table; a four-poster bed for the master bedroom. Noah’s room she decorated with a bright blue rug, an ancient toy chest, stenciled animals along the walls, and a bed built to resemble an ark. The garden she planted with orchids and bougainvilleas—a cramped yet quiet retreat from the hullabaloo of the street.

  The shop was an instant success. The high quality of stock and service, combined with aggress
ive pricing and strategic location, worked not only to retain old customers from Willow Lane but to draw new ones off the street. Unable to handle all the demands, Samuel introduced them to two renowned dealers, both trusted and longtime friends of his. New partnerships were quickly established. Three months after opening, the shop became one of the most frequented businesses on Magnolia Avenue. In this way, the couple began to accumulate wealth, which they no longer stowed in a hole under their bed, but in a venerable bank on Majestic Avenue bearing the flags of seven nations.

  As much as the change in fortune delighted Meridia, it was nothing compared to the taste of freedom. The absence of Eva’s daily requirements—in fact, of Eva altogether—was a perpetual source of wonder and celebration. For the first time in her marriage, Meridia felt liberated from the bees. The anxiety, the tension, the petty arguments between her and Daniel disappeared. Her house was now her own, a sanctuary where Eva exerted no more influence than a visitor. She could dress and raise Noah as she pleased. She could eat any food she liked out in the open. She could stop glancing over her shoulder when she went to the market or the beauty parlor.

  Meridia hosted her first dinner party the following spring. Leah, Rebecca, their husbands, and four other neighbors from Willow Lane. She spent the entire day cooking and cleaning. When night fell, nothing could stop her from exclaiming in horror—the dessert was not ready, the guests were due in fifteen minutes, she had not had time to sweep the stairs or clean the windows. “Relax,” said Daniel, grabbing a broom from the hook. “They won’t notice a thing once they see that mustache on your face.” Shrieking, Meridia brushed her hand across her lips and saw it smeared with molasses.

  The guests declared the house lovely and welcoming. Rounder now that she was expecting her first child, Leah found much to admire in Meridia’s new furniture. “I want that chair before the baby comes,” she threatened her husband. “And I don’t care what your mother says, that curtain will look divine in our living room.” Rebecca and the other two women focused their assault on Noah. “How handsome you look in that suit! And how grown up! Tell your mother you’re going home with Aunt Rebecca tonight.” The boy acted indignant, not to mention scandalized, but it was evident from his reddening ears that he was pleased.

  At dinner, Meridia earned raves for her dishes, especially the seared golden prawns and the duck roasted in a clay cooker. Daniel took a bite of the duck and told her, “It’s better than Patina’s.” Meridia beamed, pleased that she now could turn flour into delicious pastries, stew meat without spoiling the vegetables, and add just the right amount of salt to any dish. All through dinner good humor abounded. While the women clamored for recipes, the men made sure that not a drop of sauce was left on the plates.

  Later, while the guests were departing, Rebecca pulled her friend to the side and whispered, “You must visit us often. Willow Lane is haunted without you.”

  Meridia laughed. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s true,” Leah joined in. “Numbers 173 and 177 swear there’s a woman living in your old house, though the agency claimed no one has rented it since you left. They say she has the wise look of an old woman, but the unlined face and thick hair of a little girl’s. Evidently she likes to cook. The house smells of food at all hours of the day.”

  “I heard her skin is like water,” said Rebecca sensationally. “So clear you can see right to her bones.”

  Meridia felt hairs standing on the back of her neck. “Have you seen her yet?”

  “We waited for an hour one night, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Smelled the cooking all right, but the house remained dark and there was no one inside.”

  “They’ll never get another tenant for it,” said Leah. “Not with a ghost that looks like she’s settling in for good.”

  “Just as well,” said Rebecca. “Any neighbor after Meridia will be a letdown.”

  AFTER PUTTING NOAH TO bed, Meridia went to her room and saw Daniel waiting for her with a blue velvet box in his hand.

  “I found an old friend of yours,” he said. “Say hello.”

  “What is it?” Meridia took the box and opened it. Her jaw dropped the instant she recognized the contents.

  “How did you find it?”

  “Pilar.” Daniel grinned. “I ran into her the other day and scared her into talking. It’s a shame the pawnshop already sold the bracelet and the earrings.”

  He took the diamond necklace from the box and put it on her.

  Meridia’s voice was breaking, but she blinked back her tears. “I didn’t think I’d see it again,” she said. She took Daniel’s face in her hands, moved forward, and kissed him, so hard he thought he might bleed.

  Later, entwined and exhausted in the dark, Daniel tugged at the necklace and said, “Where do you think Patina went?”

  Meridia considered this a moment before answering. “A place far away where good souls rest. Even if I knew where she was, I would never disturb her.”

  IN THOSE YEARS, NOAH was an easy child in all ways but one: he became extremely sensitive when teased. One time when he was four, he saw a pretty rabbit doll in a shop near Cinema Garden and could not take his eyes off it.

  “The little fellow wants the rabbit,” Daniel said to Meridia with a wink. “Shall I get it for him?”

  Playing along, Meridia replied, “Only if he kisses his mama on the cheek.”

  Noah instantly turned away. “Who says I want an ugly thing like that?”

  Back at the house, Daniel surprised the boy with the doll, having purchased it without his knowledge. Noah took one look and tossed it to the floor.

  “I told you I didn’t want it! I won’t play with it!”

  Meridia put the rabbit on top of the ancient toy chest. That night, after Noah retreated to bed, she heard strange noises coming from his room. Together with Daniel, she approached the boy’s door and opened it without sound. Sitting on the floor with his back to them, Noah was playing with the rabbit, laughing joyously as he burrowed his nose on its belly. The parents traded a smile and returned to their room.

  To Ravenna, Noah behaved like the perfect gentleman. On those special days when Meridia caught her mother’s scent drifting in from the window, the boy would run to his room to comb his hair and change his shirt. As soon as Ravenna walked in, he greeted her with a formal bow he had learned from a street performer. “Grandma,” he would say brightly. Her wild-eyed expression did not scare him, nor did her gaunt face when it came so near he could see her wrinkles. When she patted his cheek, he grinned wide with pleasure. Her scent of lemon verbena lingered on him long after she was gone.

  Gabriel was a different matter. Every year on the boy’s birthday, despite the number of presents he unwrapped at breakfast, there was no curbing his tears as Meridia dressed him in his new clothes. “Stop that,” she said. “I won’t have your grandfather think I’m as bad a mother as I am a daughter.” Unmoved, she led him downstairs and out to follow the sun. During their walk Noah raised no objection. When they entered Gabriel’s study, he held his shoulders up the way she had trained him. Together they walked past the towering shelves, his hand digging into hers but his eyes looking directly in front. Stopping before the desk, he uttered the greeting he had carefully practiced. “Come here, boy!” bellowed his grandfather. Though his knees quaked, Noah covered the remaining distance by himself—so small, yet so brave and determined. Gabriel lifted him from the floor and placed him on his lap. Being so close to that terrifying face could not have been pleasant, but Noah answered all his grandfather’s questions without a tremor. When they left the study, his shirt was always damp. As soon as they reached the sanctuary of Ravenna’s kitchen, Meridia loosened his collar and hugged him. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered again and again, laughing and crying at the same time.

  WHILE HE FEARED GABRIEL and worshipped Ravenna, Noah remained unimpressed by Elias’s repentance. For a long time after the accident, he howled like a kicked dog when he saw his grandfather, cuppe
d both hands over the scar on his temple, and refused to be pacified until he drove the jeweler out of the house. Elias brought him gifts, sang, read, walked like an ape, bleated like a goat. The only thing he accomplished was annoying his grandson.

  Over time, Noah developed the skill to ignore the jeweler. Meridia had little idea how deeply this affected Elias until one afternoon in the boy’s fifth year. Elias, seated on the sofa, was reading aloud from a book. Noah, occupied with his toys on the floor, paid no notice. Meridia was dusting a shelf behind the sofa when she heard Elias’s voice stopped in midsentence. She turned, surprised, and regarded the back of her father-in-law’s head. It was still and oddly bowed, two birthmarks on the smooth, glossy surface. She inched closer until she stood behind him. Looking over his shoulder to the book he held, she saw tears dropping onto the page. Quietly she retreated from the room.

  That night Meridia sat down with the boy and talked to him.

  “You’re being cruel to your grandfather Elias. That scar was an accident—he will never hurt you again. Why don’t you be kind to him?”

  “He never leaves me alone, Mama! Always asking if he could play with me. Sometimes I don’t want to play with him.”

  “He’s sad because he thinks you’re angry.”

  “Then tell him to stop making those noises. He doesn’t sound like a goat.”

  Meridia sighed deeply. “Be kind. Your grandfather’s a good man.”

  “How can he be good if he gave me this scar?”

  At a loss for an explanation, she placed one hand on his cheek and stroked it.