BUZZZZ
Copyright (c) by Rick Yost
It was a beautiful, sunny, summer afternoon, somewhere very hot. On a quiet
street lined with average houses, three Bees sat on a white picket fence separating
two backyards. The scene was full of green grass, trimmed hedges, shade trees
and various flowers.
There was a very Old Bee, a younger Adult Bee, and a very Young Bee. They
were resting from a very busy day of gathering nectar.
The Old Bee spoke, “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
stroked the gray hair around its eyes and face.
The Adult Bee said, 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 chuckled, “Your
showing respect for an Old Bee and I appreciate it. But you addressed twice
as many blossoms as I did today.” He ended with a calm smile.
They both looked at the Young Bee. The Old one spoke again, “I was so
busy I didn’t notice, how’d our young Bee do on its third day
out?”
The Young Bee tried its best to ignore the other two. The Adult answered, “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 decided
to force a response, “Hey there, somebody steal your stinger?
We’re tryin’ to talk to you!” it said sternly.
The Young Bee turned slowly with a disgusted look and said, “I don’t
see why I have to be out here doin’ this grub-work!” it gave a
snarl and turned its back to them.
“Hey now you just hold on you little…”
The Old Bee intervened, “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 replied, 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 it’s high time it grew up and
started acting like an adult. It should be showing respect for its hive-mates
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 said, “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 were suddenly ended by something moving in
the back yard of one of the houses. “Hey look!” the Young Bee
said, 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 asked with a nauseous tone in its voice, “What is it doing?”
The Old Bee replied, “The human is eating its food.”
“Naw!” the Young one said with exaggerated disbelief as it stared
in disgust. “That’s gross!” The Adult Bee affirms, “That’s
right, that’s what it’s doing.”
The excited Young Bee remembered something, “I heard they eat things
that come from the ground and they even eat things that fly!” The Young
Bee turned to the other two with curiosity in its eyes.
“Yes they do.” Answered the Old Bee, working the soreness out
of one of its back legs as it spoke.
The Old Bee remembered 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 snapped its head to look at the Old Bee. “Are you serious?
That’s sick!” It then looked back at the human and shuddered.
Their attention is taken away from the human. They stood still and ready to
fend off an attack from an approaching bird. “Steady Bees!” the
Adult Bee directed, and then realized the elder Bee should’ve been the
one to assume authority and direction over them. It glanced back at the elder
Bee, who returned its glance with a knowing and accepting nod.
The Bees began to buzz, as the bird seemed to be heading straight for them.
The bird slowed his approach, turns his wing tips up and perched 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 spoke 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 grunting 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 took a moment to survey his surroundings. Not getting a reply from the
Bees, he tried again, “I say, have you noticed any of my kind around
here? I’ve become separated from my friends.” He had a casual
air about him. The Bees saw he posed no threat to them so they relaxed and
stopped their buzzing.
The Adult Bee answered, “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 tried to sound respectful and courteous while remaining cautious.
It had the responsibility of the other two.
The bird spoke again, “Well, they’re around here somewhere. Probably
busy having a go at one of the neighborhood cats or something.” He chuckled
“I swear, those buddies of mine, they crack me up!” He erupted
into another chuckle that stumbled quickly into a belly laugh, and then to
an awkward stop and settled into a broad, thoughtful grin.
He noticed the human on the patio and said, “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 broke
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 added, taking a moment to glare with disdain.
“You Bees are lucky,” he continued, “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 added “have a taste for your
honey! And they’ll destroy your hive to get it!” He glanced their
way looking for a reaction.
The thought of their hive being destroyed provoked, “The Queen!” which they all three say together, then they perform the circle dance. The
bird, tried not to show his amusement.
“But to your credit, they do fear you.” The bird said as he looked
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 turned back to the Bees, “I wonder why that is?”
The Old Bee found the Bird’s subject of discussion too inviting to pass
up. It rarely had an opportunity to speak of such things, “Yes,”
the Old Bee said. The other bees and the bird jumped- 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 turned once again to study the habits of the human as the Old Bee
continued, “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 gazed
at the human, deep in thought.
The Bird was impressed at the Old Bee’s disregard for tradition. In
speaking so freely with the bird, the Old Bee lowered barriers that usually
prevented their two species from communicating or exchanging ideas.
The bird replied 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 exchanged an understanding grin.
They watched the human a few moments longer and then the Young Bee spoke 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 were shocked. They looked at each other, not believing
what they’d just heard. They stood ready for the bird to feel insulted
and react.
The bird looked directly into the Young Bees eyes and said “Oh yeah?”
He took a few steps closer to the Young Bee and leaned close. He glanced at
the other two Bees, gave them a wink and said to the Young Bee, “You
should be very careful little one.” He put on a menacing face and the
Young Bee started to buzz nervously. The bird continued, “Except for
that unsavory stinger of yours, you’d make a tasty, fuzzy, little snack
right now.” He stared into the Young Bee’s eyes.
The other Bees saw the lesson the bird was graciously imparting to their young
friend. They smiled.
After a long tense moment, the bird squawked making the Young Bee jump. “Good
day bees!” the bird said as he took flight, disappearing over the treetops.
The Old Bee and the Adult Bee looked at each other and grinned. The Young
Bee took a moment to stop shaking. The Old Bee said, “Hey there little
hummer, you alright?” The Young Bee, not wanting to appear too shaken
by the bird, steadied itself and replied, “I’m fine elder.”
Suddenly there appeared a baby Gecko, running the length of the fence. He
passed by the two older Bees but was 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 needed to regain some
of the feeling of power the bird had taken away.
It had been a day of discovery and reflection for all three Bees. Suddenly,
a sound was heard that erased all the reflecting and thoughts of discovery.
It cut through the air filling their hearts with a sick 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 a winger.
The Young Bee forgot about the Gecko, who took the opportunity to make his
escape. The Bees were quiet for a long time while the human scooped up the
body with a broom and dustpan. He then tossed the mess in the trashcan and
slammed the lid shut.
In an attempt to bring them all away from the morbid scene they had just witnessed,
the Old Bee spoke matter-of-factly, “Roaches!” This startled the
other two out of their thoughts and the Old Bee continued, “Roaches
are very stubborn and stupid.” As the Old Bee spoke, it began to groom
itself with its front legs. Grooming had a calming effect on a Bee. Just watching
the process could settle the nerves.
The Old Bee continued, “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 stopped 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 stopped grooming itself and looked at the other two. They were
already shaking off their depression and looked around as if ready to go. “You Bees ready to get back home?” the Old Bee asked. The other
two smiled and nodded in agreement.
Then, the Adult Bee abruptly stopped and began to buzz alerting the other
two. “What is it?” the Old Bee asked in a quiet voice. After a
moment the Adult answered as it scanned the sky above them, “Flies!”
And then the Adult Bee saw them, “There they are.”
A swarm of large flies swooped down on them. They encircled the three bees
like a gang of bullies and thugs looking for trouble.
Even the Young Bee was three times their size. But there are a dozen of them
and flies are small, difficult targets to sting. In a swarm, flies could be
dangerous. Their bites were quite painful. Bitten enough times by a fly, a
Bee could become so ill it could fall to the ground defenseless against predators.
The three Bees turned their backs to each other and faced the flies. The flies
stood all around the bees feeling empowered by their numbers.
The biggest and ugliest one spoke, “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
turned to a hacking, lung-wrenching cough. As he laughed, the others laughed
with him. Many of their laughs ended in coughs as well.
Flies were an unhealthy group of wingers. Most of them have a chronic cough
and wheeze. They stuttered when they spoke and had a nervous twitch that was
very annoying and uncomfortable to watch.
The Adult Bee spoke, “What is it you want from us?” The Adult
Bee showed no fear and stood still and ready, as do the Old Bee and the Young
Bee.
“What do w-w-we want?” Stuttered the fly in an exaggerated tone.
He looked around to his comrades and asked them, “Do we w-w-want anything?”
The other flies, in a tight circle around the bees, appeared ready to become
violent on cue from their leader. The other flies either replied, “N-N-No!” or just laughed and hacked.
The lead fly turned back to the Adult Bee and with a disgusted tone said, “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 stopped to wheeze and clear his throat then added, “You bees m-m-make
me s-s-sick!”
The fly’s distorted, slobbering, twitching face became even more disturbing
as he continued, “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 motioned dramatically to his group, who all grunt in agreement.
“What’s your point?” the Adult Bee asked, sounding irritated.
The fly ignored 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 refrained from repeating, “The Queen” and dancing.
The Adult Bee understood the situation quite well. The lead fly was old. It
might only have another morning or two left to live. As sometimes will happen,
it had become bitter. Dissatisfied with what it saw as a worthless and painful
life, it felt the need to lash out at the world. The Adult Bee understood
and sympathized, but saw this as no excuse to attack innocent wingers and
make them pay for the fly’s circumstance.
The Adult Bee made an attempt to reason with the flies before the situation
turned ugly. It said, “I agree!”
The Young Bee turned to the Adult with a look of confusion. The Old Bee understood
and approved of the Adult’s tactic.
But the flies are definitely confused. The lead fly stuttered, “W-W-What?”
The Adult Bee continued 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 hung on its
every word. The Adult Bee added 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, they were all very young flies, maybe only hours old.
This was quite possibly their first encounter with a bee. They had no reason
or personal negative experience to warrant anger or hatred toward another
species. But they had been told lies by those of their own species whom they
trusted and looked up to. The traditional cancerous distrust and prejudiced
attitudes were passed down from generation to generation- taught as the truth.
They were taught to hate before they learned to fly. They were taught that
the world they were born into was not only difficult, but against them and
their species.
The Adult continued like a statesman that had 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 meanness. 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 paused to gauge the
crowd’s reaction.
The lead fly attempted to regain control of its gang of young militants. “This
is a world of haves and have-nots.” It preached, wrinkling its face
at the rest of the group as if to wake them up from their indifference. The
fly swiftly turned back and stared into the Adult Bee’s eyes.
“And you know that to be true!” With that, the fly turned 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 had to stop a moment to cough, and then continued.
“We will always be looked down upon by others.”
He inspired one of the group to speak out. “Our leader is right. We
ain’t got n-n-nothin’ like you do.” exclaimed the young
fly as it angrily glared 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 coughed and twitched,
and seemed 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 spoke, The Adult Bee tried 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 exclaimed, “Hey, we’ve been standing
h-h-here long enough. My w-w-wings are starting to ache. Let’s go!!” It then searched the crowd of twitching faces for others who might agree.
Suddenly everything stopped. Every winger on the fence could feel the change
in air pressure. In the split-second it took to take flight- BANG the broom
that had swept up the lifeless Roach was slammed down on all of them.
“Gotcha’!” The human said pulling away the broom to inspect
the damage done. And it was considerable.
Hovering several yards away from the carnage, the Adult Bee inspected the
Young Bee for injuries. “I’m fine!” The Young Bee exclaimed,
“Where’s the Old One?”
The Adult Bee turned back to the fence. There on the fence, lying still and
lifeless was The Old Bee, the leader fly, and five young flies. The rest of
the young flies flew away to safety.
The human swept the dead off the fence and smiled with satisfaction. He then
turned and walked back to the safety and comfort of his house.
“I will miss The Old Bee,” the Young Bee said in a trembling voice.
The Adult Bee looked at the Young Bee and said, “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!”
The Adult Bee saw the look of confusion in The Young Bee’s eyes and
replied, “I wish I could say Young One, I don’t understand it
myself!”
They both hovered in the air, still several yards from the fence. The Adult
Bee looked at the back of the human’s home and knew The Old Bee would
expect it to impart some relevant wisdom to The Young Bee after such a sinister
act. It knew that knowledge and understanding had to prevail over ignorance,
bitterness and hatred.
The Adult Bee thought for a moment and then said, “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 turned to see The Young Bee staring at the lifeless Old Bee on the ground.
They both landed on a tree branch and continued their talk. The Adult Bee
said, “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!” said The Young Bee.
“Our strength doesn’t come from size or strength- it comes from
our knowledge, common sense, and understanding of the world around us. It
comes from not letting our fear distort the 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?”
“I guess I see what you’re saying, but how do we make them not
be afraid of us?”
The Adult replied, “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 was tired and stressed. It sighed and asked, “Can we go
back to the hive now?”
The Adult said, “Yes Young One, we should go. Tomorrow is another day.
The Hive goes on and so must we to ‘Honor’ The Queen.”
They said “The Queen” together, performed the circle dance, and
flew away home.