Bee Happy

by Marcia C Brandt

  Calli was finishing up the accounting for the day when Roger returned. Instead of having flowers in the bucket, he only had water. All along the way back to their space, Roger had given away the last of the flowers. He was pleased to be able to share with his friends and so enjoyed the feeling of gratitude everyone expressed to him for the gift of fresh flowers. “How did you do today?” Roger was curious. “Well, more than last week and not quite as much as I had hoped seems that I get to counting my chickens before they are hatched.” They both laughed at the old saying, one that Roger had said many times to her when she was growing up. “Did you share the last of the flowers with the ladies down the aisle? I know what you’re up to. You are kind of sweet on Margaret aren’t you Grandfather?” Roger chuckled, “Now, Calli, you know that Margaret and I are old friends. In our younger days, your grandmother and I and Margaret and Jack would go to all the dances together. We’d sure ‘cut the rug’.” Calli shook her head and laughed. “I’m just sure people still talk like that! Cut the rug. What in the world does that mean? I think you’re going to have to create an old timers dictionary for me to have to understand all these old sayings.”

  The van was loaded with all the empty buckets and the full cash box. Calli was pleased with herself, another profitable day. She had plenty of money to pay her rent and plenty left over to put into her ‘dream’ account in the bank. “Meet you at the Burger Barn.” Roger nodded his head and climbed into his pickup, the one he’d restored, his pride and joy. The two of them always celebrated after the farmers market by going to the Burger Barn and having the Barn Burner Special, a bacon cheeseburger, large fries and chocolate malt. Calli was ready to get some answers from her Grandfather. Lois had given her the information she was looking for, her Grandfather had been a bee keeper. Calli wanted to know what happened that made him stop and whether or not he’d be willing to teach her what she needed to know to become the next generation of bee keepers. To bee or not to bee, that really was her question.

  Chapter 3 A Long Tale

  The Burger Barn was hopping with people and the music was loud. Calli found a booth towards the back of the main room. She wanted to be able to have a conversation with her Grandfather without too many interruptions, when you’ve lived in a small town your entire life you knew everyone and her Grandfather was a talker. She was so excited to tell him about the bees leading her to the machine shed and her discovery of the old bee hives, wonder how many years ago it was that he kept bees? Calli watched as Roger made his way to the back of the restaurant, stopping every couple of tables to chat with a friend. He was well liked and admired by the people in Evergreen. Roger had even been mayor for awhile when Calli was a kid. Roger slid into the booth opposite from Calli, laughing at a joke he’d heard. “There’s never a dull moment around here! Are we having the usual?” Calli smiled, “I’ve already ordered, unless you’d like something new for a change.”

  “Of course not. We have an image to uphold. Success at the farmers market calls for the Barn Burner Special, I wouldn’t want to jinx our winning streak. You look like you’ve got something on your mind. Spill it.” Calli took a very deep breath and began to tell her Grandfather the story about how she had been picking peas yesterday and how the two little honey bees had played a game with her. As she got to the part of the story where they led her into the machine shed back in the corner where the bee hives were, Roger’s eyes began to dart around the room as though he was looking for a way to escape the rest of this story.

  “So, Grandfather, this morning I had a talk with Lois, you remember her, she lives on the north side of town. And she was telling me that you used to keep honey bees and that you sold her the best honey in the county. Is that true? Are those really bee hives in the old shed? Why don’t you keep bees anymore?” Calli was determined to get the answers to all her questions, but Roger looked almost pale and ready to faint. “Grandfather, what’s wrong? Why do you look like that? You are scaring me.”

  Roger took a very deep breath and the color seemed to return to his face. He paused, hoping that the food would arrive and save him from telling this long tale to his granddaughter. The fry cook must have been backed up with orders for there was no food being delivered to their table. Seeing that Calli wasn’t going to let this go, Roger began to share his adventures with her. He indeed had been a bee keeper and it was time to tell her before she got the notion in her head that she wanted to keep bees.

  “Well, when I was a lad, you know we farmed with horses. That seems such a long time ago now with all the modern equipment today, combines with air conditioning and automatic GPS systems that plant and harvest via satellite. Anyway, my father had the best team of horses in the county. Everyone wished they had a team like them, Bess and Bob we called them. We only had 80 acres back then but it was enough to feed us and pay the mortgage. You know that ravine with the little patch of woods by the pond? That’s where this story starts. I must have been about 8 or 9 years old at that time. I was down there fishing one day, hoping to bring home some bull heads for super. My mother loved to fry them. And as I was sitting on the bank, daydreaming about summer and not having to go to school for 3 months, a couple of honey bees started buzzing around my head. I tried to swat them away, but they were determined little bees. They’d buzz and then sit on the top of a cat tail beside the pond. Then they’d come back and buzz me again, like they were playing a game with me.” Calli nodded her head, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

  “I got tired of the interruption; I was trying to catch fish, not honey bees and started to leave when they really got mad and buzzed me even closer. Pretty soon there were two more bees and then two more again, kind of like the ark story, two by two, only each two was two more honey bees. Well, I realized that this was going to turn into a swarm of bees and I didn’t want to get stung that many times. I tried to protect myself but they just kept getting closer and closer. Pretty soon I found myself stumbling over to an old dead tree beside the pond. All of a sudden they all disappeared into the hollow of the tree. At first I was relieved that they had stopped bothering me, but then being a kid and a boy on top of that, my curiosity got the best of me and I just had to climb up the tree and look to see where they had gone.” Calli was glued to her Grandfathers face, and his story. He looked almost like the young boy he was describing, curiosity spread over Calli and she inched closer to him sitting so close to the edge of the cushion she almost slipped off.

  “As I got to the hollow of the tree and looked in, I was checking to see where they had gone. Inside was the most complex mass of bees and honey comb I’d ever seen. The sound inside the dead tree echoed and seemed to be louder than a locomotive. I watched as the bees hovered and landed, filling the comb with the nectar that they’d gathered from the nearby alfalfa field. It actually smelled like sweet clover and honey all at the same time. I wasn’t afraid, although I probably should have been. But it seemed to me that those two little honey bees had invited me to see their home. I climbed down the tree, gathered my fishing pole and ran home as fast as I could, hoping I could find my grandfather and take him down there to see what I’d discovered.”

  “My grandpops, as I called him, was brushing the team, Bess and Bob. He had just finished the first cutting of the alfalfa for the season. “Grandpops, you gotta come with me to see this!” I was out of breath from running all the way from the pond to the barn yard. He just kept brushing the horses. “Slow down a bit and catch your breath. I’ve got to finish up here with the team before I can go anywhere. They deserve a good brushing and some feed for all the hard work they’ve done today.” Being so excited to show him my find, I grabbed another brush and went to brushing Bob with a vengeance. Grandpops chuckled, “Well, this must be all fired important to get you brushing so fast. Don’t hurt Bob! You know he’s getting up there in years for horse.” Finally after what seemed like hours to me, the horses were groomed and fed and the two of us were headed for the pond. I was hoping that the bees were still ther
e, being a kid I didn’t know much about how they lived. When we reached the pond I hurried over to the hollow tree, climbed up and looked in. Yep, they were still there. My grandpops took a look in with me and gave a low whistle.”

  “Glory be. That’s some mess of bees. I haven’t seen a swarm like this since I was a boy. What do you have in mind with this discovery son?” Grandpops had a twinkle in his eye that told me he already knew what I wanted to do. “Well, can we keep them?” I was asking what seemed like a very simple and logical question coming from a small boy who wanted to keep each and every frog, tadpole, baby rabbit, garter snake I’d come across in my life. Grandpops grinned and said we could, but first we’d have to build a hive for them to live in. That seemed to puzzle me but I went along with the idea because he said yes!

  “It took us about a week to build the hives. We had to first find a book at the library that told us what size to build the hive and how many layers we needed plus a lot of other stuff I don’t remember now but my grandpops had it all written down in a black book. He was smart and could build just about anything he set his mind to. Finally the day arrived when we took our hives down to the pond and got them in place. We had to level out some ground so they wouldn’t tip over and be a safe place for the bees to live. I wondered how we were going to get the bees to move into our new hives. Grandpops had the solution to that too. We waited until dusk one night about a week later. He said that we needed to wait a week to get the human ‘stink’ off the hives we’d made. I don’t know now if that was true, but it gave him some time to keep me from pestering him every day.”

  “We had a smoker that was a funny looking can that poured smoke out of a spout. I proudly carried it down the path to the pond. I knew I was in for an adventure that I’d never forget. We got to the tree and peaked in. The bees looked to be asleep, at least that what I thought. Grandpops let the smoke fill the hole in the tree before he carefully cut apart some of the honey comb bringing sleeping bees and all down out of the tree and then placed it carefully in the new hive securing it with some strips of cloth he’d torn from on old sheet Grandma had given him. He took about four different pieces of the honey comb and moved them into the hives. By the time he was done, it was really dark. I was amazed that neither one of us were stung. I know now that working in the evening and using the smoker is one of the secrets to moving bees. Grandpops told me that maybe they’d stay and maybe they’d move completely away. We’d just have to wait and see. Now waiting was not one of my best traits but I took his advice for a couple of days.”

  “Curiosity got the best of me one afternoon and I hiked down to the pond by myself to check on the bees, not telling anyone where I was going and for sure not what I planned to do. I just had to check on my bees, after all I’d discovered them and they were my new pets, although it’s hard to pet a bee.” Roger chuckled at himself remembering the day like it had been just yesterday. “So, here I am walking into one of my worst days of my life, without even knowing it. I got to the hives and saw some of the bees swarming around the tree and the hives seemed to be empty. I was fearless and also pretty stupid now that I look back and remember that day. I wanted Grandpops to be proud of me and I wanted to have my bees in my hives not in that old dead tree. So I started to go after another piece of the honey comb to move it into my hive. I’d taken the lid off and seen that there were no bees there. Why I thought it was a good idea I don’t remember. I think I was just a boy with a mission and not much experience with bees. The first few stings didn’t bother me. I was determined to get the comb with the bees into the open hive. Pretty soon I realized that this probably wasn’t a good idea anymore, the bees were definitely mad at me now and were stinging me at quite a rapid pace. I dropped the comb and started to run back up the path to the barn yard. I got about half way there when I dropped to the ground in pain. I had no idea how many times I’d been stung, but I didn’t think I could walk any further.”

  Calli leaned back against the back of the booth. Her face was pale and she looked visibly shaken. Her grandfather could have died; she might not have even been born. What a thought. Roger continued, “Lucky for me the horses were in the pasture that I had to walk through to get from the barn yard to the pond. Bob came over to me and nuzzled me trying to get me to get up. He must have liked my brushing I thought. I probably was going into shock by then. Through some kind of mental telepathy, Bob figured out that I was in trouble and galloped back to the barn and started stomping and neighing and making all kinds of racket. My grandfather had been in the hay loft and heard his carrying on. Bob led him to me and basically saved my life.”

  The waitress appeared at their table with their order. Calli wanted the rest of the story right now! She wasn’t interested in food at the moment. Roger looked relieved. The rest of the story could wait. “Looks like we’d better eat our food before it gets cold. I love their burgers and fries!” Not wanting to wait, Calli shook her head no. “We can eat and you can tell me what happened, please.” Calli pleaded with the look that her grandfather couldn’t ignore. “Okay, but first let me get some food in my belly. The rest of the story is just as long.”

  Chapter4 The Rest of the Story

  The crowd was going home from the Burger Barn; most of the tables were empty. Roger and Calli were finished with their supper and wondering if they had room for dessert. Mildred was the owner and she was famous for her pies. It didn’t matter which berry was in season, she had the best recipe for that pie bar none. Their waitress appeared, cleared their table and asked the question. “Do you have room for dessert?” They both spoke at once. “Yes, apple pie with ice cream.” Calli noticed the grin on her Grandfathers face. He knew it was her favorite pie too and he’d always loved the apple pie her Grandmother had made when she was alive.

  “So, what happened after your Grandpops found you?” Roger ran his fingers through his hair; he had the most beautiful full head of gray hair she’d ever seen for a man his age. “Well, I spent the next few days in the hospital, wrapped up almost like a mummy. I had salve and gauze all over my body. It wasn’t much fun except for the ice cream. We didn’t have it very much on the farm, so it was the only treat I got for being in the hospital. Once I got home, I vowed never to mess with the bees again. I’d had enough for my entire lifetime!”

  The puzzled look on Calli’s face gave Roger the message to continue on, “I know that Lois told you about me keeping bees and selling honey. So here’s what happened that made that possible. My grandpops was a very wise man. He understood how life worked and how someone was going to make it or not by the way he handled problems. My problem was that I was scared to death of bees after my experience at the pond. He waited until I was all healed up and then one summer afternoon he suggested that we go fishing at the pond and catch some bull heads for Grandma to fry for supper. Now, my mouth was watering for the fresh fish, but my head wanted to stay as far away from the pond as possible. Grandpops wouldn’t take no for an answer so we dug some worms and headed off to the pond. I was shuffling my feet making the short walk to the pond take twice as long as it should have. “What’s up with you Roger? You usually beat me to the pond and catch the first fish before I even get my pole in the water.” I didn’t answer him right away but finally told him the truth. “I’m afraid that the bees might sting me again and I don’t want to go to the hospital, even if I do get lots of ice cream.”

  “Oh, I see. That could be a problem now couldn’t it. I guess those bees are still going to be in the hives we built and they might be flying around a bit by the pond looking for some nectar so that they can make us some honey.” My eyes lit up. They might be making honey for us? That sounded so good. I loved honey on my toast in the mornings. That was my favorite treat, even better than the strawberry jam my Grandmother made. “So, they might be making honey for us? Guess it would be okay to check on that but only if you’re with me and we have the smoker.” Grandpops nodded his head in agreement, “Yep, having the smoker and me along might have
saved you some pain, but I guess that you’ve figured out that bees are to be respected and cared for properly. It takes courage to go back there and work with the bees again. I know it’s not easy to face your fears, but Roger, if you can learn how to do that, you’ll make a good man out of yourself and you’ll always be able to be successful no matter what you have to do.”

  “So, that’s how my grandpops got me to start learning about being a bee keeper. He and I worked together for many years. We built hive after hive and had quite a business going. He was always so patient with me, giving me advice but letting me make my own mistakes along the way. I learned how to keep going even if there were a few bumps in the road and a few bee stings. I never had another episode with the bees that put me in the hospital. I took to heart all that he taught me.”