Honey Pond

“Sweetie? Can you look outside for me?” Sebastian was turned away from his wife as he asked, phone pressed to his ear. “Mrs. Greene says it’s urgent,” he added when Georgia groaned into her pillow. Mrs. Greene’s angry squawking continue in the short silence.

“She really wants you to go look, Georgia.” He shifted to lay on his back, eyes now locked with hers. He was giving her those stupid puppy eyes, a trick that used to work on her all the time.

“Fine,” Georgia said, rolling out of bed. Sebastian mouthed a ‘sorry’ at his wife while she made her way to the bedroom window. Georgia ignored him. It wasn’t his eyes that made her get up. It was the thought of Mrs. Greene hobbling over on her cane to beat Georgia with it if she made Sebastian get up instead. He often called him a “charming young man.” He was also her eye doctor, someone who Mrs. Greene called frequently about her own medical concerns. He could do no wrong in the old woman’s eyes, not like the bitter, antisocial Georgia.

Whatever Mrs. Greene wanted this time, it was probably irrelevant as always. She liked to call everyone in the neighborhood and warn them about squirrels getting into their mail, or that it was really smarter to get up and change the TV channels manually instead of using the remote. No one listened to her, and that only made the pestering worse. Lucky for Georgia, Mrs. Greene was their neighbor. She was closer to Georgia and Sebastian Dunn than any of the other residents of the small pond.

Wondering what woodland creature she might be complaining about this time, Georgia grasped the cream-colored curtains and pushed them aside. It was so obvious she almost missed it. “Oh…I see what she means.”

Sebastian sat up in bed, moving the speaker away from his face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Seb, you should see for yourself.”

Their house was right on Wishner Pond in upstate New York. It was small, maybe two miles long. The property was beautiful and exclusive. There were only about ten or twelve small homes located on the large pond. Whether it was to kayak, fish, or simply float on the water, the pond was a source of activity for all. Georgia and Sebastian enjoyed kayaking on sunny days, which were luckily frequent. For the winter months, they had ice skates. Sebastian in particular appreciated the outdoors, and so it was only natural his grandmother had handed over the deed to the home just before she died.

It was the first day of June. Georgia had taken the kayak out yesterday, and she’d planned to do so again today. Not anymore.

“Do I have to?” Sebastian mumbled.

“I can’t explain.”

Sebastian put the phone on the pillow with a quick word to Mrs. Greene to wait a moment. He sounded irritated. “Georgia, what is it?” he asked, coming to her side. When he looked out, his eyebrows scrunched to match the confused look on Georgia’s face. He whistled. “Well, I’d say it’s pretty simple to explain.” Georgia bit back a snarky reply.

The pond was gold. As Sebastian hurried back to the phone, Georgia continued to stare. Instead of gentle waves lapping at the shore, the gold was a stationary, gelatinous blob. It reminded her of lava.

Sebastian’s voice reached her. “Mrs. Greene says it’s honey.” He was sitting on the bed, phone to his ear again.

“How does she know?” Georgia asked, looking back. As soon as she said it, she heard the old woman’s frenzy from across the room. I know what honey tastes like Georgia Dunn. I’ve been putting it in my tea for years.

Sebastian’s gaze went through his wife and to the pond as Mrs. Greene's voice lowered back to normal volume. The way his fingers tapped at his leg told Georgia he wanted to hang up and investigate himself. “She went out and tasted it,” he said.

“Why would she taste it?” Georgia muttered.

Sebastian sighed as the old woman, overhearing his wife once again, launched into a tirade. Mrs. Greene wasn’t going to let him off anytime soon. Georgia decided to make her escape and head down to the pond.

Outside, she could see others in the distance, examining the molten gold that now made up their pond. The first thing Georgia did was stop just short of the pond and poke it with her sandals. It wasn’t warm or cold; the temperature didn’t feel like anything in particular. The syrupy mass seeped between her toes. She jerked her foot from the pond. A shining strand held on to her big toe as if trying to bring her back. She shook it off. Further in, she noticed leaves that had fallen from the trees on the surface, honey enveloping their edges. Who knew what else was in there. The thought of tasting it almost made Georgia gag.

To her left, footsteps approached.

“Hey Georgia! This is a bit strange, wouldn’t you say?”

“More than a bit, Dennis.”

Georgia looked up at her other neighbor. Dennis was in his fifties, about twice Georgia and Sebastian’s age. He had kind eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He’d been the first to welcome Georgia and Sebastian when they’d moved in months ago. “We loved Sophia,” he said of Sebastian’s grandmother. “Anything you need, just ask. We’ll all be around to help.” Sure enough, he’d been right. During that first week, the Dunns had many visitors. Rex and Leah Thorp made them eggplant lasagna, and their three children made cookies. The Terrances helped unpack boxes. Dennis himself plugged all the holes and imperfections throughout the house with his caulk gun. “Now you don’t have to do any of the fixing up yourself, little lady,” Dennis told Georgia when he’d finished. Sebastian liked the man. Georgia wasn’t impressed.

Dennis stuck one foot over the pond. “What is it?” he asked. He lowered his foot until it was resting on the surface. “Gross,” he said.

“Honey. Mrs. Greene called to tell us.”

“Whoa, don’t call me honey.” Dennis let out the belly laugh he was famous for at barbeques. Georgia pushed her bangs out of her face and fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“She’s on the phone with Sebastian now. You’d think it was Armageddon with the way she’s carrying on.”

Dennis laughed again. “I'm not surprised. That’s normal for her.”

Georgia stood and put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, well,” she started, looking at Dennis, “it is weird though. I don’t think it’s life threatening but…weird.” Georgia glanced back into the honey and saw her reflection warped by an air bubble. “It’s unsettling. You agree?”

“You think I could still fish?” Dennis asked.

Georgia laughed at the absurdity of it. She imagined the fish stuck in the thick honey and her laugh died as quickly as it began. “That sounds kind of gross if you ask me,” she muttered.

Dennis didn’t hear her. He bent over and swiped a finger across the surface of the pond, bringing a huge glob up and into his mouth. The wet smacking of his lips made something turn in Georgia’s stomach.

“It’s pretty good. Not too sweet. Nice and gooey. I think I’ll enjoy this while it lasts,” he said. He slipped his foot out of his boat shoe and let it sit on the honey’s surface. “How ‘bout that,” he said with a chuckle. Georgia wrinkled her nose. Dennis grinned. “Georgia, you gotta lighten up a bit this is—oh!” Dennis reached for his boat shoe as the honey started to suck it under the surface.

**********************************************************************

Georgia spent the rest of the morning on her cellphone talking with her neighbors. Yes, Leah, I saw. Yes, it’s honey. No, I don’t think it’s dangerous. As far as she could see, people would stand by the edge for some time before retreating back into their homes. Everyone was just as puzzled as she was, but what was there to do? How did a pond change from water to honey? How could it be turned back?

By the afternoon, Sebastian was off the phone with Mrs. Greene and able to see the honey up close. “I hope she’s alright,” Sebastian finally spoke after he and Georgia had been standing there for a few minutes. Georgia followed Sebastian’s gaze to the small, dark brown cabin a couple hundred feet from their own. Out of all the neighbors, Mrs. Greene was the only one Georgia hadn’t spotted outside.

“I think she’s fine. She sounded lively on the phone,” Georgia pointed out. Smiling to herself, she added, “Maybe we should put some of this in a jar and leave it on her doorstep. Save her some money at the grocery store.”

“Georgia!” Sebastian scolded, but he was laughing. He dropped to one knee and reached for the honey.

Georgia cocked her head to the side. “Wait, Sebastian. That’s gross! What about all the fish and dirt? This can't be sanitary.” By the time she’d finished speaking, Sebastian was back on his feet and had honey on his tongue. He made a satisfied grunt. Before Georgia could protest again, Sebastian was crouched once more and had another small dot of honey on his finger. He held it up to her lips and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Please?” he insisted. Again, he had those puppy eyes going. She blinked at him, staring at the amber glob before her.

“That’s disgusting!” she said, turning away. “It’s been sitting out here in the dirt.”

He smiled wide enough for his dimples to show, not bothered by her refusal. “Suit yourself,” he said, and sucked the honey off his finger.

Georgia held back a sigh. It had been a while since she’d seen those dimples, and seeing him so happy sent warmth into her chest.

“I’ll buy some jars for you,” she said, “then we can scoop some up and keep it, how about that?”

Sebastian grinned and kissed her. She could taste the honey on his tongue.

**********************************************************************

Within the span of a week, the honey was no longer cause for alarm. At any time of the day, Georgia could look out at the pond and see people scooping honey into Tupperware, bottles, jars, anything. Boats were dragged out the first day it appeared to prevent them from sinking.

The germs and bacteria that could've been in the honey didn't seem to be concerning in the slightest. As far as Georgia knew, no one ever complained about getting a bad bit of honey, nor did they come down with some sickness as a result of eating it. It all seemed perfect, convenient. She still didn’t eat any herself, but watching the others remain completely unharmed normalized things for her. Sooner or later though, the honey would have to go. Harmless as it seemed she couldn’t stand to see the others touch it. Once, she caught Dennis sticking his whole hand in to scoop it into some Tupperware. The thick sheen of honey dripping down his arm sent a sick twist of anxiety to her gut. Unsurprisingly, he had a dumb grin on his face.

“You could use a spoon,” she’d said. Georgia had been outside plucking carrots in her vegetable garden.

“You know Georgia,” Dennis told her as he shook his hand off. “The fishing’s never been too great, but there were always, always fish to catch and throw back. I haven’t seen anything in there. Where did all the fish go?” It wasn’t spoken as a complaint, rather a general observation. Georgia didn’t have an answer, but she hated fish. She was allergic to almost every kind of seafood out there. However, she would rather see live, swimming fish than the pristine honey any day.

Her neighbors clearly thought the opposite. It was “all natural” honey, and best of all, free. They could use it in their drinks, for cooking, skincare. Leah had given her some homemade face scrub using the honey. Georgia smiled and took the handwritten instructions, only to shove them in a kitchen drawer, never to be seen again. At one point, Dennis even told Sebastian that this honey was perfect to eat for hangovers. Georgia refused to believe there was any scientific merit to that.

“They just want it to work, so then they feel like it does. The placebo effect, right?” she’d asked Sebastian in bed one night.

“I dunno Georgia, let me sleep.”

Georgia found out quickly that he believed in the honey just as strongly. He drank more tea than ever before. “It really tastes better. I swear.” he told her, to which she didn’t reply. Two weeks after the honey appeared, Sebastian started waking up early to make her tea before she headed out to her secretary job. It was nice to have him do something for her like this, but she never drank it. She put the honeyed tea in a travel mug and dumped it in the parking lot outside her building.

“You should take some honey to your coworkers. I’m sure they’d love it,” Georgia tentatively suggested one morning. The idea wasn’t her favorite, but the honey was brightening his mood. If she threw him a bone once in a while, it kept his spirits up.

Sebastian’s answer was quick. “Nah, I don’t want to explain it. Keep it close to the community. Jars of honey don't exactly qualify as a common gift, you know?”

“Well, I'd say it's kind of simple to explain,” she jabbed at him with a wink. She expected a smile, but the half-hearted one she got showed he wasn’t impressed.

“I’ll see you later tonight,” he said, getting up “The honey is only for us,” he said, forcing a smile. She caught his joking tone at the end, but there was a tightness in his voice that made her uneasy.

Georgia headed to the bedroom to get ready herself. She slipped on a charcoal dress shirt and stared out the window. Her gaze settled on Mrs. Greene’s backyard. The old woman was outside, leaning heavily on her cane and poking the honey with her foot as if it were a dead animal.

**********************************************************************

About two months later, Georgia set out with a freshly washed mason jar. Sebastian had bought a set of twelve so that he was never low in supply. She was getting fed up with these frequent trips to gather honey whenever he had a new idea to try out. She didn’t know why she was indulging Sebastian in this lunacy. Currently, he was eager to make homemade cough syrup and honey marshmallows.

At the edge of the pond Georgia crouched. Sebastian was working late, so she figured the short walk to the pond was a little chore to do to keep herself busy. She reached a spoon toward the honey and then froze.

The honey had receded. There was a about a three-inch strip of dark sand now where the honey used to be. It was barely noticeable, the deep orange sunset highlighting the change. Anxiety pooled in her stomach like lead. She reached out further and scooped up the honey.

“This is disgraceful,” a voice spoke to her from above just as she'd filled the jar to the top. Before she even turned to look she knew who the gravelly voice belonged to. Mrs. Greene had taken the trouble to hobble over to the Dunn’s property despite the uneven terrain. Her big eyes were locked onto Georgia as she stood above the younger woman. The hand holding her cane was quivering from the force with which she was holding it.

“Hi Mrs. Greene, want me to get some honey for you?” Georgia offered, hoping such a blasphemous proposition would scare the old woman away.

“Absolutely not,” she snapped. “This won’t last forever.” She now had her cane emphatically pointed at the surface of the honey. “This used to be clear water. Pretty water. I used to fall asleep to the sound of it every night. My grandkids would come up here and swim when they were younger.” She was now looking out at the wider expanse of the pond. The honey was unmoving as the sunset turned the surface blood red. Georgia was shocked to hear that Mrs. Greene had grandchildren.

For a brief moment, Georgia was angry. It wasn’t her fault the water became honey. It wasn’t her fault all the fish were gone. If anything, she was the only one who even vaguely agreed with the old woman.

“I’m not used to it either,” she admitted, standing up. “But there’s nothing I can do.”

“Awful,” Mrs. Greene muttered. She turned away from Georgia. “You watch yourself now,” she added. She hobbled back toward her house, Georgia staring sadly after her. The little caution was one of the nicest things Mrs. Greene had ever said to her.

This won’t last forever, the old woman had said. She couldn’t think of what might happen when the honey ran out. Maybe she and Sebastian had been taking more than others and that was why this part of the shore was retreating. Either way, she had to broach the subject with her husband.

That night, Georgia was marinating chicken when Sebastian asked, “Hey Georgia, get more honey? I think with fall and winter coming we’ll need to stock up just to have it for flu season. Do you think it’ll freeze over like water?”

Georgia bit her lip, eyes on his back. He was sitting at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes. “I’m not sure. But maybe we ought to take it easy with the honey. I feel like it’s getting to be a bit much. We have a few jars already, Seb.”

Sebastian turned to her, the peeler stopped against the skin of one of the potatoes. “Better to have more in the house than out there for the animals.”

**********************************************************************

The winter months came and went. The pond never froze. Snow would fall, melt, and run right off the golden liquid. When the snow around the pond’s edge finally melted, Georgia’s anxieties came back. “Seb?” she said when he joined her at the honey’s edge one morning.

“Yes?”

“The pond is shrinking.” Georgia could now pinpoint a wide gap from where the honey used to be and where it was now from their porch. It was accentuated with a big fat bar of earth so brown it was almost black. It had to be at least a few yards in now. How hadn’t she noticed this even with the snow? She hadn’t been keeping track of how far she walked to retrieve the honey.

“Oh no,” Sebastian whispered, kneeling to touch the dark earth. “We have to make the most of it before it’s all gone. You think it'll come back?”

Georgia didn’t want to think about these questions. She didn’t want a part of this anymore.

Time seemed to blend when it came to the pond now. Month after month, the journey to the edge of the honey was further and further. And deeper. She found the uphill climb back from the shrinking blob surprising. She never imagined the pond was this deep. Soon, she started to notice a difference almost weekly. There were plenty of times where she’d run into her neighbors walking along the same path as she did to reach the ever-shrinking blob. It was always small talk but it was enough to distract Georgia from how far she was now having to walk. When she turned from the honey one day, she noticed from this depth she could only see the roof and second floor of her house. The cold worry dropped into her stomach once more.

“At least it’s a bit of a workout. Cardio, you know?” Sebastian told her one night. The strain in his voice was just short of frantic.

“It’ll be gone soon,” Georgia said, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring down at her coffee.

Suddenly she felt the energy shift as he whirled to face her. “Don’t say that. Maybe it’ll come back. It should come back.”

When Georgia looked up at him in confusion, she felt her pulse race. Sebastian was a passive aggressive man, but the look in his eyes was dark. He wasn’t just annoyed, he was angry. She could count on one hand the number of times he’d been angry.

“Seb, I just—”

“You just nothing. You’d be happy to have it gone. You don’t appreciate anything, Georgia.”

She blinked, stunned. Sebastian turned away from her and hurried into his study, honeyed tea in hand. Georgia gripped her own tea tighter. She headed up to the bedroom to read, and hopefully fall asleep before Sebastian came to bed.

**********************************************************************

The phone rang. By the time Sebastian answered and listened to another bout of ranting from Mrs. Greene, Georgia was already up and throwing on a t-shirt. It finally happened overnight, after a little more than a year.

For a while Georgia used to be able to stare out at the darkened pond and see the gold in the distance. It would shine blindingly when the sun hit it without fail. This morning, the August sun hit nothing but dark brown. No light, no honey. It was gone.

“I’ll check it out, Seb,” Georgia said. Sebastian rolled out of bed, clumsy in his half-awake state. “I’m coming.”

Georgia slipped into her sandals and went out through the glass doors. It took her longer than she thought to trek to the center of the pond where a cluster of others were gathered. Sebastian trailed behind her, and she sensed his eyes trained on the smooth, compact earth beneath their feet. It felt like walking on pure flat earth with no blemishes or interruptions to trip her up. There was the occasional rock she had to step over. She never noticed how the ground felt different under the pond. Dennis was one of the few who was looking at the ground. In the center of the tight circle, a blob of honey that looked more like a deflated football sat undisturbed. Georgia found the sight pitiful.

“Who took the last of it?” one man asked.

Another woman whispered, “I bet those raccoons and squirrels have been coming overnight for months now.”

“I didn’t think of that,” the man said. “Gross.”

Georgia stood beside Dennis. “Well, this is certainly something,” Dennis said, hands propped on his hips.

“Do you think it’ll come back?” Sebastian asked. His voice was quiet as not to betray the clot he felt in his throat. He crouched and searched the surface for anything that would give him a degree of comfort. His fingernails scratched at the dirt, as if he couldn’t help but dig for more. Georgia felt pity flare up in her chest.

Dennis sighed and patted Sebastian’s shoulder. “We just have to pray for a miracle I guess. I think I’d rather it come back as water, to be honest. I miss fishing.” With that, Dennis turned and walked away. His footsteps were hard on the bare earth and they disappeared fast.

The others gathered around were apparently just as bored as Dennis. There was nothing more to do but go home. Georgia and Sebastian were the last ones left, sitting in the center of the crater that used to be Wishner Pond.

“I’m sorry, Seb,” Georgia whispered. Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears. She stood over him, debating whether to put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go back inside.”

He didn’t answer.

Though the honey was gone and the water was gone, Georgia could still feel the weight of being underneath something heavy as they stayed in this deepest part of the drained pond.