Honey Stone

Empty Shell

Nash!

No!

Not him!

No!

Honey shook from head to toe and the world was tilting under her feet. She hadn't been aware that she had been screaming; screaming for Nash and begging God to help her. Hank had tried to explain to her what had happened but she was too far gone in her grief and horror, he could do nothing as he watched this girl fall to pieces in front of his eyes. Now she was quiet but to be honest, Hank preferred the screaming.

'Honey.' he said softly and her eye's flashed in his direction but she was still far away. 'Honey, I can take you too him, he'll need you more than anything else now but you have to be prepared.'

Her eyes snapped to his and hope appeared all over her face. 'He's not dead?'

'No Honey I've been trying to tell you but listen, listen to me. He's in a bad way. He had to have surgery to remove the bullets. He still might not make it but he's not gone yet.' Hank told her truthfully.

Honey nodded and stood up brushing down her clothes and squaring her shoulders with a determination that she didn't know she could possess. 'Lets go.'

#

Hours later they were sat in a stark corridor outside a windowless room. Nash was inside but so far Honey had not been allowed inside. Tommy stood leaning against the opposite wall to her and looked at the ceiling as he mangled a Styrofoam cup that had once held insipid hospital coffee. Nash was what the doctors described as critical. Honey wanted to ask a million questions but the answers were always non comital and vague so she stopped bothering to try. She watched a space on the smooth green floor and counted from one; a pair of shoes crossed her vision and she started from one again. Then, shoes stopped in front of her; old battered shoes, worn and comfortable looking. Voices were far away, she wished the person would move on so she could start the counting again.

'Honey?'

How strange that word seemed. The shoes remained but this time she could see a pair of pale pink ones beside them. Pretty. They didn't belong here amongst these cold antiseptic smelling corridors and dark rooms.

'Honey!' she recognised that voice. Her eyes trailed upwards and she saw Tommy had moved from his place and was closer now. His mouth was moving but she heard only a ringing sound. She blinked lazily and watched as he bent over so he was at her level. 'Honey pie, are you listening to me?'

'Yes Little Brother.' she slurred.

'She drunk?' asked a voice rudely from somewhere to her left.

'Al, don't be a damned fool, poor girl is exhausted and in shock.' Said a firm but feminine voice. Honey watched the pink shoes disappear but her hand was taken by a pair on neatly manicured hands with equally pink nails. 'Hello Honey, my name is Clara. I'm James's Momma. This is his daddy, Albert. We've heard so much about you.'

'Mrs Nash!' Honey squeaked and looked into a pair of startling green eyes. 'Oh my goodness. James is...he's...he's...' she faded away but her hand had been gesturing to the door opposite.

'Now, now sweet thing, none of this formality, I won't have it. Have you been in to see him?' Clara asked.

'They won't let her in.' Tommy put in 'She ain't family.'

'Ha!' Albert blustered and stomped off to find someone with to yell at.

'Don't mind him.' Clara smiled thinly 'How about we get to know each a little while we wait. It must have been so hard for you. James told me that you have no family, just these bunch of rough and ready men.'