The Office Curve

The Truth About Nummy Honey

It's very difficult to forget the exact moment in life where you mind went two sides of logical and creative thought processes to blown to bits pile of brain matter that can never be put together again.

I will never forget this moment in my life, when I realized that things are not at all what they seem, and that people are much more shallow in their thinking than they'd care to admit.

I thought I knew everything in the world.  I thought that someone of us are born to be beautiful and some of us are destined to struggle with the way we view ourselves, unable to believe in our own unique beauty and unwilling to believe that someone else.  Always dwarfed by the beauty and power of my sister Karyn, I always chalked up my curviness being saddled with a lousy fate.  It happens - some people get a better draw than others.  And while I've grown to accept it at a slow but steady pace, I still couldn't shake the feeling that I could have been so much better since I seemed to have it worse.

But no one ever really knows the truth, do they?  Worldviews shaped by bitterness and sorrow, we get so wrapped up in comparing our blooper reel to everyone else's highlight real that we fail to see what's behind that perfect facade.  We're so quick to judge ourselves as imperfect that we refuse to see or believe that anyone else could be as flawed as we are.  Except for cynics - they see the bad in everyone and are pretty grumpy doing so. 

Getting off topic, sorry.

The moment I admitted to myself that I don't know a damn thing about this world or just how perfect people are was the moment Cecile ushered that telling photo in my hand, old, frayed, and a little discolored.  He was the first person I caught sight of, not so tall but not so short, a bit on the husky side with a wide, lively smile.  Standing beside his tall, regal father and his short, curvy mother, he looked into my soul, and though he looked happy, those familiar blue eyes were filled with secret sadness, as though he carried a heavy burder on his shoulders.

The tears that welled in my eyes surprised me, and I was taken aback by the tight pain in my throat.

"That was one of the last pictures he took with his father, just before he died."  Cecile's voice was just as quiet and somber as the boy in the photo.  "A few weeks later, his father died of a heart attack.  It caught us both by surprise.  Things were already hard for him, and of course, this made it worse.  But it sparked a change within him.  I don't know if it was for the better, though."

I couldn't speak - I couldn't find my voice.  I just continued to clench photo, mouthing the words I didn't have to air to say, to express my astonishment.

"I was afraid of this," Cecile said with a sigh.  She remained relax, like she expected this.  "Speechless is the norm when this happens.  If Kaim knew I had this in my clutch, he'd have me murdered.  But that's why I keep a glock in the nightstand."

"Th-This..." I looked up to her, the ability to speak regained, even if it was just a whisper.  "Th-this is Kaim?"

"Yes, that's Kaim - my sweet little Nummy Honey."  Her fingers brushed against the picture, a sweet smile on her face.  "Since I'm going to hell anyway, I'll reveal another secret.  I call him 'Nummy Honey' because when he was a kid, he was always numming on something.  Either a piece of candy and sometimes, if he was generous, a piece of fruit.  I said something like, 'are you numming on something honey?' and it just ballooned from there."  She wrinkled her nose, wrapped up in her memories.  "You know, I don't even know if 'numming' is even a word."

"Ah..."  One more scrutinizing look, and my eyes were back on her, open wide.  "I-I can't believe it.  I...really?"

"Yes, really.  Don't you see the resemblance?"  There was no doubt about it - it was Kaim.  I know that chocolate shoulder-length hair and gorgeous blue eyes anywhere.  But he was so different, so young, and so chubby.  Not at all the Kaim I was used to.  "His change wasn't that miraculous."