BUZZZZ
Copyright (c) by Rick Yoat

It is a beautiful, sunny, summer afternoon, somewhere very hot. On a quiet street lined with average houses, three Bees sit on a white, picket fence which separates two backyards. Each side of the fence there are concrete driveways, garages and houses. The scene is full of green grass, trimmed hedges, shade trees and various flowers.
There is a very Old Bee, a younger Adult Bee and a very Young Bee. They are resting from a very busy day of gathering nectar.
The Old Bee speaks, “Whew, what a day. It won’t be long before I’m too old to do this roadwork with you ‘young hummers’! I may leave this fun to you next time.” With its front legs, it unconsciously strokes the gray hair around its eyes and face.
The Adult Bee says trying to voice just the right amount of respect and reverence, “Oh, I don’t know, you were keepin’ up with me pretty well for an ‘Old Buzzer’.” The Old Bee chuckles, “Your showing respect for an Old Bee and I appreciate it. But you addressed twice as many blossoms as I did today.” He ends with a calm smile.
They both look at the Young Bee. The Old one speaks again, “I was so busy I didn’t notice, how’d our young Bee do on its third day out?”
The Young Bee tries its best to ignore the other two. The Adult answers, “It did alright, it’s getting the rhythm of the work.” Feeling the Young Bee should be showing more respect for its elders, the Adult decides to force a response, “Hey there, somebody steal your stinger?
We’re tryin’ to talk to you!” it says sternly.
The Young Bee turns to them slowly with a disgusted look on its face and says, “I don’t see why I have to be out here doin’ this grub-work!” it gives a snarl and turns its back on them.
“Hey now you just hold on you little…” the Adult starts to get upset with the Young one for it’s lack of respect.
The Old Bee intervenes, “Now, now, that’s alright. I remember when I was that age. I would have rather been back in the Hive on these hot days too where it was cooler.” The Old Bee shows the understanding smile of perspective and continues, “It takes time to learn the value of responsibility and love of the hive and Honoring ‘The Queen’.”
The other two heard it coming. The term ‘Honor’ was only used when referring to The Queen. So as is customary when the Old Bee said, “The Queen”, they all said “The Queen” together. Then, as is also the custom, they all, even the Young one, spun around in a single-circle-dance out of respect for “Her Highness”, the “Giver Of Life”.
The Adult replies, still quite annoyed with the Young Bee’s insolence. “Well with all due respect to you, my elder, if this young buzzer was deemed old enough to leave the hive then its high time it grew up and started acting like an adult. It should be showing respect for its ‘hive-mates’, who are trying to teach it the ‘ways of the wing’.”
The Adult gazed hard at the Young Bee, unable to keep from showing its disapproval. The Young one glared back with a rebellious air.
The Old Bee says, “The collective memory of our hive can speak of many young bees who took time before they felt the ‘Hum’. This young one will be fine, given some room.” The Old Bee looked at the Adult and smiled. The Adult smiled back recognizing the Old Bee’s wisdom.
The Young Bee just stood there looking disgusted, feeling the long day of flying in its weary, young wings. It appreciated the Old Bee’s comments of what its like to be young. Yet its remarks made the Young
Bee uneasy. “Is this really what it will be like for me from now on?” the Young Bee thought, “A life of endless work.” He sighed heavily.
The Young Bee’s thoughts are suddenly taken away by something moving in the back yard of one of the houses. “Hey look!” the Young Bee says, turning its whole body to point. “It’s one of those humans! Wow, they’re really ugly aren’t they?”
This was interesting to the Young Bee. Its mood had changed to one of wonder and excitement.
The Adult Bee agreed, ”Yes, they are very ugly and very dangerous. You’d do well to stay away from them.” The Adult glanced at the Old Bee who displayed a small grin of approval at the Adult’s stewarding.
They were all now watching intently as the human stepped out of his back door carrying a sandwich on a plate and a glass of milk. He sat down in a folding chair under his patio cover and began eating his lunch.
The Young one asks with a nauseous tone in its voice, “What is it doing?”
The Old Bee replies, “The human is eating its food.”
“Naw!” the Young one says with exaggerated disbelief as it stares in disgust. “That’s gross!” The Adult Bee affirms, “That’s right, that’s what it’s doing.”
The excited Young Bee remembers something, “I heard they eat things that come from the ground and they even eat things that fly!” The Young Bee turns to the other two with curiosity in its eyes.
“Yes they do.” Answers the Old Bee, working the soreness out of one of its back legs as it speaks.
The Old Bee remembers its encounter with a human long ago. The Old (then Young Adult) Bee was knocked to the ground with a broom and barely escaped being stepped on. It didn’t feel the need to share this story. It knew the Young one would soon be in tune with the “collective memory” and feeling the Old one’s experience for itself. It could then learn from it, as did the others.
The Old Bee said, “I can still touch the memories of hive mates who’ve seen humans kill and eat the larger things that walk on four legs.”
The Young one snaps its head to look at the Old Bee. “Are you serious? That’s sick!” It then looks back at the human and shudders.
Their attention is taken away from the human. They stand still and ready to fend off an attack from an approaching bird. “Steady Bees!” the Adult Bee directs, then realizes the elder Bee should’ve been the one to assume authority and direction over them. It glances back at the elder Bee, who returns its glance with a knowing and accepting nod.
The Bees begin to buzz, as the bird seems to be heading straight for them. The bird slows his approach, turns his wing tips up and perches on the fence a few feet from them.
“Good day Bees! My apologies. I can see I startled you.” Being a medium sized bird (a Blue Jay) he speaks politely and with great confidence, the way most birds of his size do. The smaller birds speak much softer and watch what they say. The larger birds usually only make guttural noises or squawk, just before they pluck you out of the air and eat you. The big black birds are the most feared by Bees.
He takes a moment to survey his surroundings. Not getting a reply from the Bees, he tries again, “I say, have you noticed any of my kind around here? I’ve become separated from my friends.” He has a casual air about him. The Bees see he poses no threat to them so they relax and cease their buzzing.
The Adult Bee answers, “No I can’t say that we have seen any like yourself, but then we’ve only been here for a short time.” The Adult tries to sound respectful and courteous while remaining cautious. It has the responsibility of the other two, whom are of lesser strength and physical abilities.
The bird speaks again, “Well, they’re around here somewhere, probably busy having a go at one of the neighborhood cats or something.” He chuckles “I swear, those buddies of mine, they crack me up!” He erupts into another chuckle that stumbles quickly into a belly laugh and then to an awkward stop and settles into a broad, thoughtful grin.
He notices the human on the patio and says, “I may stay here for just a bit to see if he eats all the bread on his plate. I can’t pass up a chance to eat something that rare and tasty.”
Now the Bees and the bird are watching the human eat his lunch. The bird breaks the silence, “I do so dislike Humans! They’re vicious, yet cowardly! They kill and eat those of ‘feathered wing’ like myself. But those they eat are those they can catch, those who can’t fly. I’d be ashamed.” He adds, taking a moment to glare with disdain.
“You Bees are lucky,” he continues, “they don’t have a taste for your kind.” The Bees knew this to be true, but it was comforting to hear.
“They do however,” he quickly adds “have a taste for your honey! And they’ll destroy your hive to get it!” He glances their way looking for a reaction.
The thought of their hive being destroyed provokes, “The Queen!” which they all three say together, then they perform the circle dance. The bird, tries not to show his amusement.
“But to your credit, they do fear you.” The bird says as he looks back at the human. “Funny how that is. Sometimes the very small, weak and defenseless, fear the very large, strong and powerful. Then sometimes, the very large, strong and powerful, fear the very small, weak and defenseless.” The bird turns back to the Bees, “I wonder why that is?”
The Old Bee finds the Bird’s subject of discussion too inviting to pass up. It rarely has an opportunity to speak of such things, “Yes,” the Old Bee says. The other bees and the bird are surprised at the Old Bee’s willingness to converse with a bird. “I too have observed this strange way of thinking. I’ve noticed it in many of the larger species I’ve encountered, particularly the humans.” With this they all turn once again to study the habits of the human as the Old Bee continues, “I believe you’ll find it has much less to do with physical dimension or strength and more to do with an apparent weakness of the mind that will make the strong fear the weak.” The Old Bee gazes at the human, deep in thought.
The Bird is impressed at the Old Bee’s disregard for tradition. In speaking so freely with the bird, the Old Bee lowers barriers that usually prevent their two species from communicating or exchanging ideas.
The bird replies with sincere respect, “You are a wise Old Bee. I may have misjudged you small wingers in the past. I guess while high in flight, all other life can seem strange and different!” The Old Bee and the bird exchange understanding grins.
They watch the human a few moments longer and then the Young Bee speaks to the Bird, mimicking his courteous and respectful tone, “You’re the first of your kind I’ve been this close to. You seem to be a pleasant bird, nothing like the ‘Flying Monsters’ I’ve heard about.”
The other two Bees are shocked. They look at each other, not believing what they’ve just heard. They stand ready for the bird to feel insulted and react.
The bird looks directly into the Young Bees eyes and says “Oh yeah?” He takes a few steps closer to the Young Bee and leans close. He glances at the other two Bees, gives them a wink and says to the Young Bee, “You should be very careful little one.” He puts on a menacing face and the Young Bee starts to buzz nervously. The bird continues, “Except for that unsavory stinger of yours, you’d make a tasty, fuzzy, little snack right now.” He stares into the Young Bee’s eyes.
The other Bees see the lesson the bird is graciously taking the time to teach their young friend. They smile.
After a long tense moment, the bird squawks making the Young Bee jump. “Good day bees!” the bird says as he takes flight, disappearing over the treetops.
The Old Bee and the Adult Bee look at each other and grin. The Young Bee takes a moment to stop shaking. The Old Bee says, “Hey there little hummer, you alright?” The Young Bee, not wanting to appear too shaken by the bird, steadies itself and replies, “I’m fine elder.”
Suddenly there appears a baby Gecko, running the length of the fence. He passes by the two older Bees but is stopped by the Young Bee blocking his path. Matching the young lizard move for move, the Young Bee stops him from continuing along the fence. The Old Bee and the Adult Bee grin at this little confrontation. They know it is just what the Young Bee needs to take back some feeling of power that the bird had taken away.
It has been a day of discovery and reflection for all three Bees.
Then all their thoughts are silenced.
A sound cuts through the air filling their hearts with a sick, empty feeling. They don’t move; they don’t breathe. They slowly turn to identify the sound as that of the human stepping on a cockroach. There is not a more unmistakable sound than the “crunch” of another ‘winger’.
The Young Bee forgets about the Gecko, who takes the opportunity to make his escape. The Bees are quiet for a long time, while the human scoops up the body with a broom and dustpan. He then tosses the mess in the trashcan and slams the lid shut.
In an attempt to bring them all away from the morbid scene they’ve just witnessed, the Old Bee speaks matter-of-factly, “Roaches!” This startles the other two out of their thoughts and the Old Bee continues, “Roaches are very stubborn and stupid.” As the Old Bee speaks, it begins to groom itself with its front legs. Grooming has a calming effect on a Bee. Just watching the process can settle the nerves.
The Old Bee continues, “The roaches I’ve encountered have been quite striking in their appearance, they are quite lovely things indeed, but they are stupid. And although they are ‘wingers’ like ourselves, they are also, ‘crawlers’.” He stops for a moment to see the other two, listening intently. “’Crawlers’ will eat anything and live anywhere. They have no respect for themselves or anything else. They’re nasty.”
The Old Bee stops grooming itself and looks at the other two. They are already shaking off their depression and looking around as if ready to go. “You Bees ready to get back home?” the Old Bee asks. The other two smile and nod in agreement.
Then, the Adult Bee abruptly stops and begins to buzz, alerting the other two. “What is it?” the Old Bee asks in a quiet voice. After a moment the Adult answers as it scans the sky above them, “Flies!” And then the Adult Bee sees them, “There they are.”
A swarm of large flies swoops down on them. They encircle the three bees like a gang of bullies and thugs looking for trouble.
Even the Young Bee is three times the size of a fly, but there are a dozen of them and a fly is a small, difficult target to sting. In a swarm, flies can be dangerous. Their bites are quite painful. Bitten enough times by a fly, a Bee can become very ill, so ill it can fall to the ground where it is defenseless against predators.
The three Bees turn their backs to each other and face the flies, that now stand all around them feeling empowered by their numbers.
The biggest and ugliest one speaks, “Well l-l-l-look what we have h-h-here! It’s a b-b-bunch of b-b-b-bees, hahahahahaha.” His throaty laugh turns to a hacking, lung-wrenching cough. As he laughs, the others laugh with him. Many of their laughs end in coughs as well.
Flies are an unhealthy group of “wingers”. Most of them have a chronic cough and wheeze. They stutter when they speak and have a nervous twitch that is very annoying and uncomfortable to watch.
The Adult Bee speaks, “What is it you want from us?” The Adult Bee shows no fear and stands still and ready, as do the Old Bee and the Young Bee.
“What do w-w-we want?” Stutters the fly in an exaggerated tone. He looks around to his comrades and asks them, “Do we w-w-want anything?” The other flies, in a tight circle around the bees, appear ready to become violent on cue from their leader. The other flies either reply, “N-N-No!” or just laugh and hack.
The lead fly turns back to the Adult Bee and with a disgusted tone says, “You ‘high and mighty’ b-b-bees think you have m-m-more than everyone. And of course we as lowly ‘flies’ must have l-l-less than all others. So naturally, y-y-you assume we w-w-want something from you!” He stops to wheeze and clear his throat then adds, “You bees m-m-make me s-s-sick!”
The fly’s distorted, slobbering, twitching face becomes even more disturbing as he continues, “You with your grand H-H-Hive you s-s-stuff yourselves into every n-n-night. You n-n-never have to survive the real w-w-world like us!” He motions dramatically to his group, who all grunt in agreement.
“What’s your point?” the Adult Bee asks, sounding irritated.
The fly ignores the question “You’re taken c-c-care of in your hive. Your f-f-fed and sheltered. You think you’re r-r-royalty up there or something. You even have a Qu-Qu-Queen for ‘dung’s’ sake!”
All three bees refrain from repeating, “The Queen” and dancing.
The Adult Bee understands the situation quite well. The lead fly is old. It may only have another morning or two left to live. As sometimes will happen, it has become bitter. Dissatisfied with what it sees as a worthless and painful life, it feels the need to lash out at the world. The Adult Bee understands and sympathizes, but sees this as no excuse to attack innocent “wingers” and make them pay for the fly’s circumstance.
The Adult Bee makes an attempt to reason with the flies before the situation turns ugly. It says, “I agree!”
The Young Bee turns to the Adult with a look of confusion. The Old Bee understands and approves of the Adult’s tactic.
But the flies are definitely confused. The lead fly stutters, “W-W-What?”
The Adult Bee continues with the air of a diplomat, “You are a much stronger group of ‘wingers’ than we. You have a much more difficult and much shorter life than we do. Most of you start out your lives in the waste, rot and filth of other groups. You have no choice but to be resourceful. We commend you in your hearty will to live and the survival techniques you have developed.”
The flies are all astonished at the Adult Bee’s candor and hang on its every word. The Adult Bee adds one more stroke of their ego, “And you can fly circles around us!” There is not a greater respect a “winger” can attain, than for prowess of flight.
Apart from the old fly, these are all very young flies, maybe only hours old. This is quite possibly their first encounter with a bee. They have no reason, no personal, negative experience to warrant anger or hatred of another species. But they’ve been fed the lies. They have had an image of bees painted for them and thrust in their faces by those of their own species whom they trust and look up to. This image is rarely positive or correct, never the less, it is taught as “The Truth” The traditional, cancerous distrust and prejudiced attitudes are passed on from generation to generation. They are taught to hate before they learn to fly. They are taught that the world they were born into is not only difficult, but against them and their species.
The Adult continues like a statesman who “has the floor”, “You know, it is a hard life for all of us. In the summer it is unbearably hot. In the winter it is so cold we can’t move. Many of us have hardships others do not even see. Bees might not seem to recognize what pain or misfortune you go through, but it is not out of mean-ness. It is simply that we try to keep to ourselves and mind our own business. Strength comes from self-reliance, not from hatred or intimidation.” The Adult Bee pauses to gauge the crowd’s reaction.
The lead fly attempts to regain control of its gang of young militants,
“This is a world of ‘Haves’ and ‘Have-nots,’” it preaches, wrinkling its face at the rest of the group as if to wake them up from their indifference. The fly swiftly turns back to stare into the Adult Bee’s eyes.
“And you know that to be true!” with that, the fly turns to address its troops, “Hear me flies and hear me well. You see before you the chosen ones. These bees will be around long after you and I lay rotting on the ground.” The fly has to stop a moment to cough, then continues, “We will always be looked down upon by others.”
He inspires one of the group to speak out, “Our leader is right. We ain’t got n-n-nothin’ like you do.” exclaims the young fly as it angrily glares at the Adult Bee, “Everyday we have to fight to survive! We’re not lucky enough to be b-b-born into a hive, where you are a part of a huge g-g-group. We’re individuals out here and its ‘every ‘winger’ f-f-for itself.” The young fly coughs and twitches, and seems quite proud for stringing so many words together without too much stuttering.
The Adult Bee thinks to itself, there’s not much future in trying to argue with ignorance. It considers how this too is a part of life, to be ignorant of one’s own ignorance. But to not try and make oneself understood, is as bad as giving up.
“You are not seeing things the way they truly are my young wingers.” Slowly turning as it speaks, The Adult Bee tries to engage all of the flies personally, “You think of us as fortunate or rich. We do not. When we stir in the morning we are like you, attempting to survive the best way we know how. Our days are full of very hard work and the struggle to survive, just like yours. The fact may be that you see us as fortunate because you see yourselves as un-fortunate. Can you really feel justified in terrorizing us because you are unhappy?”
One of the other young flies exclaims, “Hey, we’ve been standing h-h-here long enough. My w-w-wings are starting to ache, let’s go!!” It then searches the crowd of twitching faces for others who might agree.
Suddenly everything stops. Every “winger” on the fence can feel the change in air pressure, which always precedes doom. And as they all frantically try to escape, BANG the broom that had swept up the lifeless Roach is slammed down upon the fence and all the unsuspecting wingers. “Gotcha’!” says the human, as he pulls away the broom to inspect the damage done. And it is considerable.
Hovering several yards away from the carnage, the Adult Bee inspects the Young Bee for injuries. “I’m fine!” The Young Bee exclaims, “What about the Old One?”
The Adult Bee turns to survey the fence. There, lying still and lifeless is The Old Bee, the leader fly and five young flies. The rest of the young flies have flown away to safety.
The human sweeps the dead ‘wingers’ off of the fence with his ‘trusty’ broom and smiles with satisfaction. He then turns and walks back to the safety and comfort of his house.
“I will miss The Old Bee,” the Young Bee says in a trembling voice. The Adult Bee looks at the Young Bee and says, “Of course we will all miss The Old Bee. But we will not forget.”
“But why did the human do that? Why did he attack us for no reason? We’d done nothing to him!” questioned The Young Bee with sadness in his voice.
The Adult Bee sees the look of confusion in The Young Bee’s eyes and replies, “I wish I could say Young One, I don’t understand it myself!”
They both hover in the air, still several yards from the fence. The Adult Bee looks at the back of the human’s home and knows The Old Bee would expect it to impart some relevant wisdom to The Young Bee after such a sinister act. It knows that knowledge and understanding must prevail over ignorance, bitterness and hatred.
The Adult Bee thinks for a moment and then says, “Remember what the bird said about the very large, strong and powerful, fearing the very small, weak and defenseless. I think that’s what this was all about.” He turns to see The Young Bee staring at the lifeless remains of The Old Bee lying on the ground.
They both land on a tree branch and continue their talk. The Adult Bee says, “I think what we should try to learn from this is that how big you are or how powerful you are has nothing to do with real strength.”
“I don’t understand!” says The Young Bee. The Adult tries to explain, “Our strength doesn’t come from us being large or strong or powerful. It comes from our knowledge, our common sense, our awareness and understanding of the world around us. It comes from not letting our fear distort our truth. It is this same strength inside us that makes us different from the flies, the Roaches and the humans. Not greater or lesser, just different. It may be this strength we have inside us that they all fear. Does any of this make any sense?”
The Young Bee says, “I guess I see what you’re saying, but how do we make them understand so they won’t be afraid of us?”
The Adult replies, “Well, remember how the Old Bee talked with the bird? You could see the bird gaining more respect for us from the Old One’s willingness to converse with it. Maybe the young flies will think differently of us too. I think they could see that we weren’t the oppressive ‘wingers’ they had been told we were.”
The Young Bee is tired and stressed. It sighs and asks, “Can we go back to the hive now?” The Adult says, “Yes Young One, we should go. Tomorrow is another day. The Hive goes on and so must we, to ‘Honor’ The Queen.”
They say “The Queen”, then perform the circle dance and fly away home.