Honeycreepers

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. “The Purple Honeykiller” is what my father called it. I sat on my porch gazing at the violet menace in the sky. It’s always vexed me how something could be deadly yet stunning. Like a bouquet of roses, its aura enchanted me. But get too close, and those beastly thorns can ensnare you.

“Eilis, get inside. You know it aint goddamn safe out there.” My husband Jim hollered from inside.

I rolled my eyes, downed the rest of my whiskey, and trudged back inside. Truth be told, I’d rather die on that porch than spend another second in this house. Unfortunately, he was right; it wasn’t much safe out there. But there are thorns in here too.

“Get me a beer,” my oh-so-tender husband demanded.

I sighed quietly as I opened the fridge, fetching him his 15th beer of the night. As I handed it to him, I noticed him pouring over case files.

“More people gone missing?” I inquired casually.

He paused, looking up at me for a moment. I braced myself until he finally leaned back and replied, “Yeah, I’m not sure what to make of it. 15 women have been missing in the county for the past 4 months. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Serial killer?”

“Pssst, you think everything is a serial killer. Those silly documentaries have gone to your head.”

I rolled my eyes without thinking, immediately hoping he wouldn’t see. But the backhand he swiftly applied to my face told me he did.

_________

I woke up the following day to an empty bed. I rolled over to see a bouquet of 12 red roses lying on Jim’s pillow. This was the only way he knew how to apologize, but how could I expect much more creativity from a half-wit cop?

I placed the roses in the glass vase Jim bought with the first bunch he gave me. As I put them on the coffee table, the phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

I immediately heard my friend, Esther, franticly breathing at the end of the line. “Eilis, you need to get over here right away.” She panted.

I’d never heard her sound so distraught, so I dropped the phone and ran down the street to her house. The driveway was empty, and I could hear their dog Eggnog barking up a storm inside.

I let myself in and noticed the place was a disaster. Bookcases and tables were knocked over, and papers were scattered everywhere. I followed the whimpering and barking I heard to the kitchen. Esther was curled up into a ball, shivering violently. Cuts covered her arms and legs, and blood matted her hair. I stood there in silent shock, unsure of what to do. My brain was wracked around every interaction I had had with her husband, Peter, and I never once would have suspected he could even hurt a fly.

I sank to the floor and slowly crawled over to where she sat. I took her hands into mine, and she finally looked at me. Her face was 80% purple, and with the blush coming through her cheeks, she looked like that midnight sky: beautiful, tinged with evil.

Softly, I asked her, “Peter?”

She slowly nodded her head up and down. We sat there in silence for another 20 minutes until she spoke.

“I feel so lucky to have him. I feel so protected at night from what’s out there. So, the first time he shoved me, I thought, ‘I upset him after a stressful day at the lab. I’ll just be more careful in the future.’ Then, it didn’t much matter what I did or said. I became his personal punching bag.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked away from her. The flushing sting of shame spread through my face. As I looked away, I whispered, “And it’s better to be a punching bag than dead out there, right?”

She began sobbing as she realized the same realization I did months ago. How could anything be worse than this?

“What do we do?” Esther asked frantically. “Peter and Jim have control of all our finances. Even if we had money, where would we go? No one will let us live alone. The midnight sky, it’s too dangerous. We’ll be left out to die if we leave.”

I hesitated as I considered telling her what I knew. I was told this in strict confidence, but she needs help too, and I can’t leave her with Peter.

“I know a place, Esther.”

Her head snapped up.

“There is a group for women like us. A woman at the market told me to meet her at the abandoned building by the water tower at 11:50 tonight. She said she could help.”

“Will it be safe? What about midnight? We won’t make it home in time.”

“The implication, Esther, is that we won’t be coming home. Ever.”

She paused and considered this for about 10 minutes until she asked, “What should I bring?”

“Nothing. Just you.”

____________

After our husbands passed out from the alcohol and sleeping pills we plied them with, Esther and I wasted no time. We pulled up to the shanty that could barely be described as a building anymore at precisely 11:50. A light flickered inside, alerting us to someone else’s presence.

We entered the building and were met with 2 other women standing on the far side of the room. One, Janine, who told me to meet her, was an older woman with grey hair piled neatly into a bun. The other was a woman I had never seen before. She was in her mid-40s with yellowed bruises covering her arms. And a fresh one on her right eye.

“Eilis, how good to see you again. Who is your friend here?”

“Her name is Esther. I hope it’s all right. I brought her with me, but she’s scared. We’re scared.”

She nodded with compassionate eyes as she gently caressed Esther’s beaten face.

Janine turned to us and said, “This is going to sound ridiculous, but I can promise you a life far better than you could have imagined. It will require trust and faith that what I’m about to show you will lead you to a life you never could have dreamed of for yourselves.”

Esther and I exchanged worried looks as Janine checked her watch. It was 11:59. She turned to the stranger and said, “It’s time.”

She nodded and strutted slowly towards the door. She opened it and walked outside. It was only then that I realized the purple clouds began to descend. Beyond the water tower, a purple mist seemed to rain from the sky. My heart rate increased with every step she took toward the purple fog.

When she finally approached it, she turned around, smiled, and walked backward into the mist when she reached it. Then she was gone.

Esther and I became frantic, and I shouted at Janine, “You poisoned her! This is not what I meant when I said I wanted better!”

Janine smiled kindly in response to my tirade and replied calmly, “How do you know it poisoned her?”

“Because the purple is poison.”

“And who told you that?” Janine inquired.

“My father. He said it kills people who get too close.”

“And Esther, who told you the purple sky would kill you?”

“My Uncle, he helped enact the curfews so people wouldn’t be killed by it. My husband works for the government agency studying the midnight sky, and he’s always cautioned me to never go outside at midnight.”

“So,” Janine continued, “Men are the ones who told you this. Because men are the ones who told us all. But I am a scientist, and my team and I have been studying the purple mystery for decades independently of the government. There is something so wonderful beyond this life, and it presents itself as the most majestic site most of us have ever seen. But it scares the people who control us, so they lied and used it to regain control. They know the truth, and so do I.”

I don’t know if it was the look on her face, the conviction of her words, or the defeat in my soul. But I believed her. Because what could be worse than this.

I turned, squeezed Esther’s arm, and said, “See you on the other side, honeybee.”

I walked through the dewy field, and my focus remained on the lavender rain cascading behind the water tower. As I got closer, I could see light sparkling and dancing among the mist.

I approached the odd moisture curtain and laid my palm flat against it. It felt like the ocean and a cool breeze. But mostly, it felt like unbridled love and support. I stepped into the purple abyss watching as my bruises were absorbed by the purple and feeling the light turn back on in my eyes. I felt no shame, only joy.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I know it’s better than here.