Honeyed Memories

When, all the leafage over past,

Time leaves but sweetness at the last,

And gives, if nothing more, forsooth,

Graham nudged the door to his apartment open and stood in the doorway, trying to muster what little strength remained in his drained body to take the final few steps into the room. It had been another soul-crushing Monday - history lecture at seven that ate most of his morning, followed by a sprint across campus for the two hours of interpretative bullshit that passed for an English class, topped off by a fifteen minute break for lunch and a calculus course taught by an Eastern European refugee with a deep accent and an even deeper resentment for spoiled American college students.

He shut the door behind him and allowed his backpack to fall off his shoulder, the overburdened sack and its load of a half-dozen bloated textbooks nearly putting a crack in the linoleum as it hit the ground. Somehow he managed to stumble over to his bed and collapse into it, his determination rewarded by a sharp pain that shot through his gut the instant he hit the mattress.

“Son of a...” Graham muttered. He rolled over and saw that he had fallen on the pointy end of an unsolved Rubik’s Cube, sitting innocently in the middle of a sheet of clutter that covered his bed. In his frustration he whipped the toy across the room, watching as it skipped into a dark corner, never to be seen again. With a sigh he rolled over and looked around the cramped studio apartment, its already-small confines made to look even smaller thanks to the scattered clutter that covered nearly every surface within. Cut from the mold of the thousands of other off-campus hovels scattered around town, Graham had come to resent the one and a half rooms that had been his home over the past school year. During the first semester he had managed to keep his living arrangements somewhat tidy but as the exhaustion mounted his motivation to do so slipped away. It was really getting to be too much.

His first year of college so far hadn’t been what he expected. Though Graham was grateful to his parents for funding his tuition all other expenses had been left up to him. That meant that on top of having to drag himself to a bunch of classes he wasn’t interested in order to meet graduation requirements, he was also forced to relinquish nearly all his free time to a part-time job. It had become a struggle just to get through the day and often Graham found himself thinking, just hang on. Only a few more months until summer. During the last few days he honestly began to doubt that he would make it.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled, and sat up in bed. Like it or not, I’m here until June. Gonna have to tidy up at some point. With that thought in his mind he set about cleaning the tiny apartment, resolving to making things just neat enough so that he wouldn’t feel embarrassed living there. Papers were organized, books and tools put in their proper places, clothes scooped from piles on the floor and shoved in whatever drawer would have them. It wasn’t long until Graham could actually move around without stepping on a t-shirt or kicking aside a crumpled-up syllabus.

The project was just about complete when Graham spotted a small cardboard box in the corner, previously hidden beneath a pile of tangled sweaters. He kneeled down and pulled back the flaps, his eyes widening and his lips curling into a smile as he laid eyes upon the contents within. His mother had packed the box full of relics from his room back home, intending for him to make them part of his new life. Thinking back, Graham remembered that this box was the last thing she handed to him before leaving campus, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for unceremoniously dumping it in the corner as soon as she left.

“Oh wow.” Graham chuckled. With careful hands he reached into the box and lifted out the first item he saw, regarding it with wide eyes and a cheek-splitting smile. What he held in his hands was nothing less than his childhood in toy form, a caramel-colored home-sewn teddy bear with button eyes, big round ears and mouth comprised of two small black lines, pointed downwards in a perpetual little frown.

“Honeycomb.” Graham laughed, speaking the bear’s name for the first time in untold years. He looked it over closely and found that it was in remarkable condition given its age and recent living conditions. Mom must have touched him up before putting him in there. “How did she even find you?”

The bear stared stoically back at him. Graham smiled. Somehow he could remember faint details about when he first saw Honeycomb, how his mother presented the bear to him on his second birthday and how warm and soft he felt when he hugged him tight. From that day on it was years before the two were separated for more than a few moments. He glanced at the rest of the items in the box and bit his lip in thought. Most of this stuff is just nostalgia. I’m the only person who cares about any of it. He returned his attention to Honeycomb and thought for a moment. But maybe this little guy can still make some kid happy.

Graham remembered the small park and playground that was just a short walk away from where he lived. He looked at his watch, held the bear up and smiled. I’ve got time to see him off.

Nearly every time Graham saw the park it stood silent and empty, and today was no different. As far as he knew, there weren’t any kids around to take advantage of the green or the attached playground - from what little he knew about the neighborhood, it used to all be residential but was swallowed up by the demand for housing when the university went through an aggressive expansion some years back. What a shame, Graham thought. It really was a lovely little park, with plenty of well-maintained grass to run around in, a small lake that doubled as a home to a family of ducks, and an old-school wooden playground with all the classic equipment. If I were a kid I would love to play here.

Still, he had seen children around on rare occasions, and with any luck some kid would find Honeycomb before too long. With a sigh and a sad smile Graham held Honeycomb at arm’s length, looking into the bear’s eyes for a long moment and trying to find the right words to leave him with. After few seconds he laughed and shook his head in disbelief. This is ridiculous. I’m actually getting worked up over what to say to a stuffed animal. I should be using this time to get some sleep instead of getting weepy over some dumb teddy bear.

Suddenly feeling very silly for caring about the toy’s fate, Graham plopped the bear on the lowered end of the seesaw and turned to leave, all thoughts of his time spent with the once-cherished keepsake leaving his mind.

“Hey! That’s it?”

Graham spun around, startled by the closeness of the voice. But when he turned he saw that the park was still completely empty, no motion to be seen whatsoever save for a ripple on the water and the rustling of the leaves on the trees.

“Aren’t you even going to say goodbye?” The voice demanded.

“Who’s there?” Graham shouted.

“Hey!” The voice snapped. “Down here!”

Graham’s eyes widened as he looked down and saw Honeycomb standing on the seesaw, his paws on his hips and his little V mouth curled in displeasure.

“Aren’t you even a little ashamed of yourself?” The bear questioned, pointing at Graham as he did so. “Leaving your best friend out here all alone! Your mother would be mortified.”

Graham felt his jaw drop and the color drain from his face as the bear crossed his arms and stared at him intently, waiting for an answer. The teddy bear is talking. Honeycomb...is talking to me. That thought ran through his head over and over as he dumbly tried to form some sort of response but found himself unable to make anything more than small stuttering noises. Honeycomb sighed and looked away.

“Hmph. Can’t even muster up an apology for your best friend.” The teddy bear turned up his nose. “I guess our time together really didn’t mean anything to you.”

“This is impossible.” Graham finally managed to blurt out. “How are you talking?”

“Oh, sure, change the subject.” Honeycomb said. “You know, you’re really hurting my feelings here, G.C.”

Graham’s eyebrow twitched. I haven’t heard that name in over eight years.

“My name is Graham.” He insisted, momentarily able to forget the ridiculousness of carrying on a conversation with a teddy bear.

“Right, Graham Cracker.” The bear stated in a bored tone. “G.C. for short. How do you not know your own name?”

Graham furrowed his brow. Nobody had called him by that nickname since his tenth birthday, when he demanded that all his guests call him Graham from now on. G.C. was a nickname for little kids, he insisted, a group whose ranks he clearly no longer belonged to. What the hell is going on here?

“Listen, uh...Honeycomb.” Graham opened his hands. The bear uncrossed his arms and regarded Graham suspiciously. “I’m, uh, sorry about leaving you out here alone. Can you forgive me?”

The bear eyed him for a moment, as though considering whether or not to accept the apology. Not only did I just apologize to a teddy bear, Graham thought, it doesn’t even seem like he wants to forgive me.

“Well...” Honeycomb drew the word out. “Okay. But only if you promise to play with me for an extra long time tomorrow. No excuses!”

Graham raised an eyebrow. “I...don’t really play with teddy bears anymore. I’m eighteen.”

The bear cocked his head back. “What? Get outta here.”

Graham frowned. “Did you not notice how much bigger I am than the last time I saw you?”

“Well, yeah.” Honeycomb mused, looking Graham over as though seeing him for the first time. “But I thought you just went through a growth spurt or something. Anyway, so what if you’re eighteen? Too old to play with your best friend?”

Graham held his hands up in defense. “Slow down a second. How is it that you’re even talking and walking around right now?”

“How should I know?” Honeycomb leaned back on his palms and kicked his feet. “One second I’m watching you leave, powerless to do anything, the next I’m on my feet giving you the third degree. Maybe it’s only right I be given a chance to tell you what a big mistake you’re making.”

Graham lowered himself to one knee and looked into the bear’s eyes. “Weren’t you lonely sitting in that box all that time? I hadn’t even touched it since the beginning of the school year.”

“Nah.” Honeycomb shrugged. “I don’t even remember any of that. Truth be told, all I can remember are the times I spent with you - before you plucked me out of that box just now the last thing I remember is you putting me away at the bottom of your toy chest. Guess you just forgot about me.”

“Well...the thing is...” Graham measured his words. “The reason I stopped playing with you is because I got too old for a teddy bear. It was wrong of me to just bury you at the bottom of that chest and pretend like you didn’t even exist...but I’m just too big to play with you now.”

The bear stared into Graham’s eyes for a moment looking down and crossing his arms, as though trying to process what he was just told.

“So, what you’re saying is...” Honeycomb began, bringing his eyes to Graham’s, “If you were still little, you’d be able to play with me. Right?”

“Well, sure.” Graham shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Honeycomb grinned.

“Okay.”

Graham titled his head. “Okay...what?”

Without saying another word the bear put his paws together and bowed his head in concentration, looking for all the world like a Buddhist monk deep in prayer. Curious despite himself Graham narrowed his eyes and leaned towards Honeycomb, close enough to hear that he was muttering something under his breath but unable to make out the words.

“Honeycomb...?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Honeycomb finished whatever it was he was doing and gave Graham a smile, offering him no answer to his question. Before Graham could ask again he was stopped by the feeling of a soothing warmth surging through his body, emanating from his chest and spreading quickly to his furthest extremities. Though it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling it was an experience altogether new to Graham, the sensation that rippled through his bones and muscles causing him to stop dead in his tracks. It wasn’t until a moment had passed that Graham became aware of a very odd phenomenon, a feeling that the playground equipment that surrounded him was somehow growing larger. With trembling hands he reached towards the top of a nearby slide, which a moment ago he was eye-level with but now retreated from the grasp of his outstretched fingers.

Just before he could take hold of the cool, smooth metal, the feeling suddenly shifted and intensified, changing from a pleasant warmth to a sudden feeling of overwhelming gravity, as though he were being pulled down by a thousand tiny ropes from within his body. Graham cried out in surprise as the slide and the rest of the surrounding playground equipment shot up in height in a matter of seconds, sprouting into skyscrapers before his very eyes. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the sensation left his body, leaving no indication that it had ever even existed.

For a moment Graham was too scared to so much as breathe, his mind unable to process what it was his body had just gone through. After a moment he became dimly aware of a breeze rippling beneath his shirt and looked down to see that not only did the garment drape his body like a dress but also that his pants and boxers were pooled around his ankles, having completely fallen off of his waist. He wriggled his toes and felt them move feely in a pair of shoes that was now much too large for his feet. Graham raised his hand and saw a soft, small, unfamiliar appendage, one that responded to his commands but couldn’t possibly belong to him.

What in God’s name...[/I]