Save Steve

by Jenni Hendriks

  Steve raised an eyebrow, excited for whatever it was.

  I gulped.

  Back in Steve’s den, Kaia picked up her laptop and presented it to us. “Look!” On-screen was the Save Steve website. “You set a goal of thirteen hundred and we are already at five thousand!” Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. “That hamster ball stunt was disgusting, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much vomit come out of one person, but it really caught people’s attention.”

  Speaking of vomit, I tried to hide a wave of nausea now churning inside of me. “Oh wow. That’s . . . great.” I could already feel the bees on my face.

  Steve relished this new level of torture. His voice was almost falsetto. “But you’re not still going to do the bee beard, right? I’m worried for you, Cam. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  He had me trapped. If I relented, Steve would win and look concerned and thoughtful at the same time. If I agreed to do it . . . bees. Why couldn’t I find another girl to like? I mean, I had liked other girls. There must be a different one I could fall for. Kimberly Longacre was kind of cute. But Kimberly Longacre hadn’t spent all night with me in the wetlands reading about the end of the world. Kimberly Longacre didn’t volunteer for fourteen different causes. Kimberly Longacre didn’t comfort me after my diaper erection. Kimberly Longacre didn’t smell like coconut.

  Arrgggh!

  Kaia had picked up on Steve’s new maternal instinct. “I know. I know. You’re right, Steve. Cam, it’s crazy. You can’t do it.” She put the laptop down and closed it with a sigh.

  Oh god, I’d disappointed Kaia.

  “Agreed.” Steve grinned and plopped down on the couch, victorious.

  Were bees really that scary?

  “We can just give people their money back,” Kaia said, now completely deflating. “I’m sorry, I got excited because that put us a quarter of the way to our goal.” She could taste the twenty thousand, too. Our twenty thousand. “But it’s not worth it if you get hurt.” She patted my arm gently. The crush of her disillusionment bore down on me like a collapsing glacier.

  They were just tiny little bees. Right?

  “No, I can do it.”

  “Cam!” Kaia sounded scared. “You can’t.”

  “Yeah. Cam. Please. It’s too dangerous,” Steve deadpanned. Damn, he was enjoying this.

  I focused on Kaia. “It will be fine. I’ll be fine. Those people at the bee sanctuary must know what they’re doing, right?”

  “Maybe. Seemed a little low rent when I looked at their site.” Steve crossed his ankles and put his arms behind his head.

  But Kaia’s eyes were on me. “Are you sure?” There was a flicker of hope in her eyes.

  “Totally.” Our eyes held for a moment as she drank in my bravery (or insanity, it was hard to tell).

  Steve sat up. “Welp. Glad that’s sorted. Kaia, Netflix is waiting. . . .” He flicked on the TV.

  “Do you want to stay?” Kaia asked, like she kind of wanted me to.

  Steve leaned back and spread his arms across the back of the sectional. “Yeah, Cam. It’s just going to be me and Kaia cuddling, but you can sit on the couch and make it awkward.”

  “Steve! Don’t be an asshole!” Steve shrank into the pillows. I really needed to record his reaction the next time that happened.

  “Sorry,” he whined. “I was just excited to spend time with you.”

  Kaia turned back to me with an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, I’ve just been pulled in a thousand directions lately. We haven’t had any time together. You know?”

  I nodded, happy for a way out of here. “Sure. Yeah. Of course. I guess I’ll see you at the bees.”

  She hugged me. “You’re amazing, Cam.” Having her arms wrapped around me in front of Steve almost made me forget about the hive of bees waiting for me. Almost.

  Anxious to escape before Steve found another way to torment me, I hurried to the front door. But before I reached it, I heard Steve’s dad. “I’m not taking charity, Cheryl!” I froze, unsure what to do.

  “It’s just his friends. They want to help,” Steve’s mom pleaded. “You saw those co-pays. We need the money.”

  I didn’t want to hear this. I tried to open the front door silently.

  “Oh, did you want me to take those jobs?” Mr. Stevenson’s voice dripped with acid. “I turned down three already. But then who is going to take care of Steve, huh?”

  “I would have stayed home—”

  “But you have the health insurance. I know. We’ve been over this. That doesn’t mean we’re taking charity like lazy fucking moochers.”

  I didn’t really remember exactly what my parents’ arguments were about, but this one sure sounded familiar. I felt terrible for Steve’s mom. Unlike my mom, she still had to deal with Steve’s dad’s toxic male posturing.

  I shut the front door gently just as I heard him laugh, “Though I am kind of excited to see that weird kid wear a face full of bees.”

  Bees.

  Watching every bee-beard video I could find on YouTube was actually helping a little bit. Sure, the people squirmed and winced, but they all survived. It probably wasn’t as scary as I’d imagined it to be. It turned out, bee bearding was something bees did naturally. They even did it outside their own hives, clustering together to get a whiff of their queen. I assumed the queen bee smelled like coconut.

  And who knew, maybe we could get to ten thousand? A few stings were worth it, right?

  On the edge of the screen, YouTube recommended a similar video titled: “Bee Beard Gone Wrong!” What? Why would the algorithm recommend that? Whatever. I didn’t have to click on it. Why would I? I was trying to calm myself, right? I wouldn’t click it. Nope, not gonna click.

  Click.

  Twelve thousand bees swarmed and attacked a chubby guy on-screen. He shrieked and ran into a nearby field while the angry mob of insects followed. Even the camera guy was fleeing, screaming, “We’re all gonna die!”

  I began hyperventilating.

  Buzzzzzzzzzzzz. That sound wasn’t on my laptop. That was in my room. Oh shit! They were in my room! Shit! Shit! Shit!

  But it was just my phone vibrating. It was Kaia.

  Kaia: I got the afternoon off so I could record it.

  I should tell her not to come. I didn’t want her last memory of me to be me spazzing out in an orchard, being stung to death.

  My bedroom door opened. I quickly closed my laptop.

  “Did you see?” My mom held up her phone. “The bee sanctuary has the cutest little café that does a high tea!” She scrolled down the page. “Actually, they call it a ‘High Bee.’ Adorable, right? You should bring me back something.” A cute café? That was her takeaway.

  “You’re not worried about me doing this?”

  She put down her phone and sat down heavily on my bed. “Sweetie, I am terrified, of course. I was going to forbid you because, frankly, it’s insane. But I realized, you’re just doing what I taught you. To make a difference, you have to risk something. So, while I was at work having a small panic attack, I reminded myself that you don’t have a bee allergy. And the place seems very professional. They did twelve bee beards last year.”

  “That makes me number thirteen . . .”

  “Also, when you think about it, you’re bringing attention to two great causes—Steve and endangered bees.” Her expression darkened. “Did you hear that report on NPR about Monsanto? Goddamn agribusiness oligarchs! Their Roundup weed killer is basically causing colony collapse. If they called it ‘bee poison,’ do you think people would still buy it just to get rid of some dandelions? It’s all about profit margins for them.” She pointed a finger at me. “Don’t be like those assholes.” Then she scooped me into a hug. “Dinner’s in ten minutes.” As quick as she’d come, she left.

  Buzz!

  Another text from Kaia.

  Kaia: It’s gonna BEE amazing.

  Steve’s puns irritated the crap out of me, but when Kaia did it, I melted. I couldn’t
tell her to stay away. Then my mom’s words echoed in my head: “cutest little café.” I pulled up the bee sanctuary website on my phone and sure enough, there was a bee-themed café. The most romantic lunch spot in Ojai, the site boasted. Romantic? Lunch?

  I texted her back: Glad you’ll BEE there. That’ll take the sting out of it!

  This might be perfect. If I survived.

  Vaseline was slathered under my eyes and on my lips. Cotton balls bloomed from my ears and nostrils. My sleeves were taped tight. But I was still terrified of the caged hive that buzzed nearby. Kaia wasn’t here yet and I was kind of glad. I wasn’t certain I wanted her to see me this way.

  But we had reservations at the café and it was obvious why it was voted the most romantic lunch in Ojai. The surrounding fields glowed and waved in the always-gentle breeze. The air was so fragrant that I was in a constant state of almost sneezing out my cotton balls. It was a living Monet painting. Or was it Manet? Art history was one of my worst grades.

  The formerly welcoming beekeepers Jesse and Paula were getting impatient. I knew we were running late, but at least they had hats with veils and white bodysuits protecting them. I was basically naked. Regardless, they kept checking the watches they couldn’t even see.

  “Just five more minutes,” I pleaded.

  I scanned past the beds of bergamot, primrose, and wild lilac (I had been given the full farm tour earlier) toward the rustic wooden farmhouse. Only hummingbirds and insects arrived and departed. Their buzzing and tweeting sounded impatient, too.

  “We better get started, Cam. We’ve got to do rounds in about half an hour.” It shouldn’t surprise me. Kaia was always late. Maybe she’d still come mid-beard.

  “Oh, okay. But, um, can one of you record it? I need proof.”

  Paula pulled her phone out of her bodysuit and Jesse carried the cage with the queen bee toward me. Did they have to move so fast?

  “I usually offer a Xanax or some CBD beforehand but, being as you’re a minor, I guess you’re gonna have to do some deep breathing and just think of a happy place. Like I said, first thing we’re gonna do is tie this little wooden box with the queen around your neck,” Jesse’s gruff voice explained even though he was already tying it on. I couldn’t see the queen, but I could hear her agitated buzzing.

  Paula held her phone up to record me and I tried to smile. But then I heard Jesse bringing the hive over. “So, what I’m going to do is just start scoopin’ ’em up on you. We’ll start on your chest and then they’ll gradually crawl up.”

  A flying bee strafed me, and I flinched. Just one bee! He was about to dump twelve thousand bees on me. Oh god. Thousands of zuzzing, crawling bees! I was definitely the stupidest person in the history of Ventura County. Goddamn Steve!

  I remembered Jesse’s advice. Deep breathing. A happy place. What was my happy place?

  Jesse took a scoop of bees out of the hive and they clung to his hand. He was gonna put them on me. I wanted to run, but that would cause worse problems with the queen around my neck. He tossed and shook the cluster onto the words “Save Steve” emblazoned on my T-shirt. I felt all my organs recoil. Bees clung to my shirt. Even with cotton in my ears it was getting loud. I didn’t dare look down. I stared ahead, hoping Kaia would still come. Then we could have lunch. A romantic lunch. With Kaia. That was my happy place.

  The café. Late afternoon. The light is soft and Kaia looks radiant. She laughs at something I say. She licks some honey and smiles. She says I have to taste the honey, too, and holds up her spoon so I can lick it. It is soooo good. . . .

  Zazzz!

  A bee riot was pushing and pulsing all over my chest. A few started crawling on my neck. I could feel every tiny little claw as it pulled at my skin. More followed. Bees on top of bees on top of bees! Tiny bee hands grasping at my pores. Each bee was holding on to a bee that was holding on to a bee that was holding on to my neck skin! It was stretching!

  Honey tea slides down my throat as Kaia brushes her hair behind her ear. She tells me honey is an aphrodisiac. (Really, I would have told her that because I just read about it online, but it seemed creepier for me to suggest.) I take a flirty bite of honeycomb. Crunch. Crunch . . .

  The first bee just pulled itself onto my face. The Vaseline was supposed to protect my skin, but I could feel him digging away at it. He was interested in my lips. Now more bees were joining him. They were looking for moisture in my mouth. Their minuscule bee claws were trying to pry open my mouth. They were strong. So damn strong. I clenched my mouth closed.

  “Might want to close your eyes, too, at this point,” Jesse suggested. “They like to drink tears.”

  I slammed my eyes shut. In the darkness, the scratch of bees scaling my face was even more visceral. I could feel the bees scraping my face with their stingers to intimidate me. I didn’t know if I had a bee beard yet, but I might have a heart attack if it wasn’t over soon.

  “Oh, hey, your friend’s here!” I heard Paula say.

  And just like that, everything was okay. The buzzing turned into a soft Tibetan chant. The scratches became a playful, warm tickle. I wanted to say hello to Kaia, but I couldn’t open my mouth. Instead, I hummed, “’Ello.”

  I wanted to see her and bravely squinted one of my eyes open. All I could make out was her bee-suit silhouette, but she waved and I, very cautiously, wiggled my fingers back. She looked good even in that suit. I could taste the café honey now. She was going to love it. I wasn’t going to bring up the aphrodisiac thing, though. Unless she did first.

  “Okay, that’s it!” Jesse announced.

  I couldn’t believe it. I’d made it. I was a bee beard veteran. All I had to do now was get them off me. But with Kaia here, I felt more confident than ever. Bees were friendly, after all. Jesse just had to suck ’em off, back into their hive.

  “So, you’re gonna jump up and land hard,” Jesse explained. “You want them to fall off.” What?! He wanted me to jump around? With bees on me? “Then we’re gonna blast the leaf blower at them. You got it?”

  At least there was a leaf blower.

  “One.” Jesse counted off. “Two.”

  I went to my happy place one last time.

  We feed each other honey-covered ice cream with little chocolate bee candies.

  “Three!”

  I jumped. I could feel the bees fall off. But they didn’t just drop to the ground and take a nap. They began flying around in chaotic patterns. They seemed angry. And the queen was still on my neck! “Get her off. Get her off!” Then the leaf blower chugged to life and I was blasted by a massive gust. My jowls warbled. Wwababababab. I stumbled back in a buzzing wind tunnel. Bees smacked my face like fuzzy bullets. Ouch! One just stung me in the ear! This was not how it was supposed to go. Once one stung you, that was like a signal for the rest to attack. That’s what Google said! Fuck! Fuckity fuck! “We’re all gonna die!” I screamed. “AHHHHHHHHH!”

  “Relax. You’re all clear, buddy,” Jesse said as he unhooked the queen from my neck.

  All clear?

  The buzzing died down. Now I could hear laughter. Familiar laughter. Maniacal laughter. Not Kaia’s laughter.

  I opened my eyes.

  Steve.

  In the beekeeper outfit.

  FML.

  “Buddy!” he sang, relishing my disappointment. “Sorry, Kaia was buzzzzzzy. She got wrapped up in another angry righteous thing. She asked me to come instead. I promised to send her a pic.”

  He held up his phone, said, “Smile!” and snapped a picture of me that I’m sure looked like a cross between Einstein and a three-year-old who’d just dropped his ice cream.

  This was not my happy place.

  I speed-walked toward my car along the flowered path. The sting on my ear was the least of my pain.

  “I think they do a full-body bee blanket if you want to go bigger, buddy.” Steve trotted after me like a smug golden retriever.

  I charged ahead and swatted a bee away. “Glad you think this is hilarious. I
don’t see anyone else doing all this for you.” I had just worn a freakin’ bee beard to raise money for his family and he couldn’t even say thank you.

  “Cam Webber?” A woman in a bright yellow bee-themed dress appeared. “We have the table ready for you and your guest.”

  Steve’s ears pricked up and he skidded to a stop. “Table?”

  “For high tea. We call it High Bee,” the hostess explained.

  “High Bee! Oh, Cam?” Steve squealed, giddy. “For me?”

  “Actually, that’s okay. I think . . .”

  But Steve had a bone and he was not giving it up. “What? No, it sounds romantic. Almost like . . . a date. Is this a date, Cam?” he asked with just the tiniest threat in his voice. “And you didn’t even know I was coming.”

  “It—”

  “Any chance we can get a table by the window? I just looooove the view here.” Steve batted his eyelashes at the hostess.

  “Of course,” she chirped. “Right this way.”

  Steve locked his arm in mine. “Let’s go, honey!” And he pulled me toward the most romantic lunch in Ojai.

  There were bees dressed as cooks and bees dressed as farmers. Bees with fairy wings and mer-bees with long fins instead of stingers. There was a section of famous bees—Buzz Aldrin, the Bee Gees, and Sting. Mobiles of bees chasing flowers dangled from the ceiling. I was sure whatever concerto was playing in the background was in B-flat.

  And there were lace doilies. On the table. On the chairs. On the walls. On the ceiling! So many doilies.

  “Well, this is just delightful.” Steve glowed as he poured himself some tea from the bumblebee-shaped teapot. A plate of teeny tiny sandwiches were stacked high between us (cucumber, watercress, arugula). Next to them was a pyramid of honey jars (blueberry, coffee, alfalfa, orange blossom, and BBQ sauce).

  The only other people in the restaurant were older women in festive hats. They smiled at us. I could have sworn one of them even checked Steve out.

  Steve picked up a sandwich ever so delicately. “I am overcome with cuteness. I think . . . I think this petite sandwich is making me fall in love with you, Cam.” He popped it into his mouth and played footsie with me under the table.