Honeybee

The Garden of Earth

It stormed wildly that night, flooding the gardens and the road. It was a unexpected rainstorm like no one had seen in the valley before, bringing with it menacing bangs of thunder and clashes of lightning. To the people, it was an omen. An omen that God's wrath was coming.

Perhaps that's why Rory felt a sense of security in storms. Honeybee could see it in her sisters expression as she stared out the front screen door and watched the sky burst with with light that was gone as quickly as a blink. Honeybee knew, as she watched Rory, that when her sister thought of God's wrath, she felt at peace. Peace because she knew she was safe here in the desert, following God's almighty plan.

But Honeybee was afraid when she thought of God's wrath, because she knew if she messed up she'd be banished, just like her father had been when she was just four years old. Rory had been seven. Honeybee wondered if she remembered him, because personally, her only recollections of him were a dark beard and a dark green jacket. She always imagined him with a mean face, too, but maybe that was just because Honeybee had always been told her father was a traitor.

"Timothy was never really cut out for this stuff," Honeybee had overheard Mother whispering to Titus and Belle one evening, years ago. "I don't know if he ever believed in Zephaniah. And now...now he's out there somewhere, living like a pagan."

She'd started to cry and talk about hell then, and it scared Honeybee, so she'd run back into bed. That was the night Honeybee promised herself she'd always be faithful. She'd never distrust what the Prophet said again. Her father had questioned it, and now he was somewhere on the outside, waiting for death like all the billions of others on Earth who didn't believe. Who didn't listen.

Honeybee went with her Mother to the gardens the morning after the storm. All the valley's food was grown on acres and acres of expansive, lush land that wound around the stream. There was even a greenhouse closer to the village. It was an oasis. A blessing. They'd built it all themselves.

The villagers are only vegetables, and sometimes God provided them with blank metal cans of food. Honeybee always loved when they were handed out as rations, because you could never tell what was inside until it was opened. It was like a surprise. But God hadn't left them any cans of food in the cave for awhile.

"I bet the plants loved that rain," mused Mother softly, stroking Honeybee's head as they walked through the mud. She had rough hands, calloused from years of work in the gardens. "Now we won't have to water them today."

Honeybee squinted up at the cloudless blue sky, feeling the sun beat down on her cheeks, and then turned to her mother. "I wish it would rain all the time."

They crossed the small wooden bridge that stretched over the creek and joined the large group of workers already in the field. Mother's patch of land was far out near the mountains, where the onions grew. It was past the fruit trees, which was where Honeybee preferred to hang around. She liked the shade, and Aunt Belle was usually around there too. Sometimes she'd let Honeybee sneak a few apples back for her and Rory.

She and Mother both tied up their long red hair and got to work pulling out stubborn weeds that always seemed to grow back. Most people in the valley worked in the gardens, but a lucky few were doctors, teachers, or personal helpers to Zephaniah. Honeybee hoped she could be his personal helper someday. Or be on the council, like her uncle and mother were. Then she could help lead meetings or worship services, or even lead the village when Zephaniah left for the cave.

There were even people that lived outside of the valley. Zephaniah didn't talk much about them, but Alex had once told Honeybee that they were there to recruit people and earn money. Honeybee had asked why they would need money, but Alex didn't know. All he knew was that his dad had claimed they were the ones who lead people to the cave to be found by Zephaniah. And when God chose to destroy the earth, he'd save the workers outside the valley too. They were even more faithful than the people in the valley, because they were brave enough to face the pagans.

Honeybee didn't believe him. Still...a job like that sounded exciting. There hasn't been any new members to the valley for months now. Honeybee couldn't understand why they wouldn't want to be saved, why they wouldn't want to listen to Zephaniah, who'd been chosen by God himself

"Catriona."

Honeybee blinked, realizing she'd been spacing out. Mother was already sweating, and as she wiped the perspiration from her head she left a smudge of dirt.

"Come on. Keep going. These weeds won't pick themselves."

She resisted a sigh and continued helping her mother, silently praying that God would make it rain again.