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.