Buzz

Mrs. Sharma
Village L

Buzz

Brandon the bumblebee fluttered out of his beehive and into the meadow. Accompanied by his friend, Baxter, the two departed the beehive and were beginning their day of work. The queen bee had ordered that all of the bees head out to pollinate together- the beehive’s population was dwindling due to the newly developed houses by the meadow, since the people did not enjoy the bees (to such an extent that the bees were often killed), this rule was enacted for safety. Although no one was really very sure whether it would be effective, the bees decided it was best to be safe anyway. The two flew along in silence for awhile, for all bees feel as though their lives are uneventful, and thus they often found so little to say. Finally, Brandon spoke: “Do you know anyone else who lives in the meadow?”
“Why, but of course,” replied Baxter, a sophisticated air about his voice (that was nothing new, it was simply a trait of his). “I know plenty of bees- Buster, Bea, Bella-”
“No, no, no,” interrupted Brandon. “Do you know any of the other animals? The rabbits, the dragonflies… They are everywhere, and surely are they pleasant as well. They… They might add an element of enjoyment to this work.” Here, they landed on some pansies and began to collect nectar.
“Why would one need someone to talk to when they worked?” buzzed Baxter. “Is this not enough for you?”
“Well...It gets a bit… Boring, don’t you think?” They flew over to more flowers as he said this. “See that hummingbird over there? How different is his existence than ours? We both fly about, pollinating flowers day in and day out. What reason is there for us to not get along?”
“Are you suggesting that you don’t enjoy my company?” Baxter replied harshly. They ascended to the air again.
“No… I- I didn’t mean... “ Brandon stuttered. The bees landed upon another flower, (this time, they were rose) and Baxter paused a moment to marvel at its splendor. He did this often.
“Frankly, your lack of words leads me to think that I guessed correctly. I’m hurt.” He said the final part in a sarcastic tone. “Nonetheless, I believe that a source of interaction alike that you propose could only be beneficial toward us and, quite possibly, our species. But, with whom do you suggest such interaction? And speaking to one who is violent or bloodthirsty would not be wise.”
“Baxter, HUMANS fear us! Who would be crazy enough to attack us?” Brandon announced this forcefully, and rather loudly as well.
“Fine. Let us entertain the idea of interspecies mingling.” They settled on another flower. “That rabbit appears personable enough. Allow us to engage with it.” So, the two bees flew towards the rabbit, who (quite conveniently) was lying by a flower and enjoying a meal of grasses. The bees landed upon the flower and proceeded to greet the rabbit.
“Greetings, creature!” Baxter announced, in greeting. “I am known as Baxter, of the beehive over yonder. My companion, Brandon, also hails from that establishment. Might I offer engagement in a conversational manner?”
The rabbit looked up, puzzled. You see, the rabbits are all mute- they are unable to speak. Rather, the especially clever ones create codes amongst each other (how they do this, I do not know) that can help them to verbally interact. But there are many versions of languages like these, and they often die with the rabbits that use them. Some entertain the idea that these rabbits can communicate telepathically, though many regard this as hogwash. The bees did not know that the rabbits could not verbally communicate, and even if they had, they could not converse anyway, as bees are very unlikely of knowing the codes of these rabbits and are certainly incapable of telepathy. Buzzing suits them perfectly well as far as language goes.
The bees lingered, awaiting a response as they buzzed about, pollinating all the while. They had finished with these flowers, and still had not gotten a response.
“Hello?” Brandon asked, rather bluntly. They waited for a while longer, before they flew off, in search of another animal with whom they could converse.
“How rude!” Baxter said, oblivious to the rabbit’s lack of speaking capability. “We approached the beast, and all it had to do was, at the very least, nod in response!” He was clearly enraged now. “What did we ever do to it? Oh- wait- I know exactly what we did to it. We baffled it with words it did not understand, for its species is inferior! Yes, that must be so.”
Brandon was certainly baffled, regardless of whether or not the rabbit was, and was trying to decipher the sentence. He anticipated more ranting on the part of Baxter, so he simply attempted agreement in resignation. This did not work, though, for Baxter’s pause hardly lasted long enough for Brandon to finish his thought.
“Such a lack of courtesy! I hope to never see behavior of this sort from any bee…” He trailed off. This pause allowed Brandon a chance to speak, as they landed upon another patch of flowers (this time, they were azaleas).
“He didn’t talk to us. That is his loss.” (Brandon included the last part simply to appease Baxter.) “It doesn’t matter to us. We can find someone else with which we can communicate.” At this, Baxter nodded in accord.
“When we finish pollinating these flowers, we can find another. That field mouse offers intrigue.” Baxter said. They flew off after a few silent moments. Their flight was silent, too. As they began to descend, the bees realized there were no flowers around this mouse. In accommodation, the two landed upon blades of grass, for they did not want the mouse to be forced to move, especially not upon introduction. They mutually had a sense like this, sacrificing comfort to accommodate company. Baxter, once again, offered greeting.
“Good day. Allow me to introduce myself and my comrade. I am Baxter, a bee from the beehive that sits over yonder, upon the privet tree. My companion, Brandon, has settled in to the same establishment. Might I ask your name?”
The mouse hesitated. He appeared rather frightened. “Umm… Hi.” The two bees could tell the mouse was struggling to find words. “M-my name is… Timothy,” stuttered the mouse. Timothy seemed quite timid to the bees.
“Do we scare you?” buzzed Brandon. “It’s perfectly understandable to us if you take us to be menaces.”
“Well, umm… I sort of do. You-”
“RAAH!” Baxter yelled, interrupting. At this, Timothy turned away in fright. Baxter turned, revealing his stinger. “Mwahahaha!” he cackled in an evil tone. Timothy began to scamper off at a hurried pace. “Yes… Run! Cower in fear! Mwahaha… Come, Brandon. Let us depart.”
Brandon was frozen in shock. “Wha- What did that mouse do to you?” Baxter rose into the air, hovering there. Finally, Brandon followed him took to the skies as well. “Why did you do that to him?” Brandon finally managed.
“Dumbstruck? Don’t be.” Baxter’s tone was far more warm and kind than it had been towards the mouse. “He sounded so shy. An attempt at friendship with such a person would be ill- fated, for we, as bees, are so bold. We are opposites of mice, for they lurk in shadows, trying to hide, while we glide through plain sight. On the off- chance that we were to delve into conversation, none of us would receive the sensation that is pleasure. I simply accelerated the inevitable.” Baxter said this in such a tone that it was hard to argue against him.
Not being one to enjoy debate, Brandon shrugged off the subject. He did not agree with Baxter. Rather, he did not care to partake in verbal exchanges such as these. “Baxter, there must be someone that we can talk to. It’s not as though this field’s population is so limited that no one will be willing to speak with us.”
So, for the remainder of the day, the two bees flew about, pollinating flowers and starting conversations. They spoke with a hummingbird- that did not end well, as the two parties were competing over the flowers. They spoke with wasps- that also had an ill- fated conclusion, for the two parties quarrel about who was the original wearer of the black- and- yellow coat. Next, they approached a fly. They got along, but the fly appeared frail, and it was clear that the friendship would hardly have begun to bud by the time the fly had reached its eternal demise.
Both Baxter and Brandon were about to abandon hope, as the sun was descending quickly. “I do believe that we have found today that bees are not meant to interact with other species. This is why we do not see bees and other animals or bugs of the meadow together as friends.” Baxter vocalized this in a tone full of conviction, as though he was entirely sure of this and nothing could change his mind. This was, of course, exactly what Brandon intended to do.lf
“This is inconclusive, for there are many others we can meet with. All this means is that we have simply found some that differ with us, some do not share the same interests. We now know who we do not relate to well, and tomorrow there will be fewer options to choose from, and thus a higher likelihood of us finding someone who we can talk to.” buzzed Brandon. They were not far from the beehive, and the sun was very low on the horizon at this time.
“Well said, Brandon, well said. This has changed my opinion. But, perhaps the following statement will change yours. Have we not combed the meadow thoroughly enough? With whom can we interact that we haven’t already spoken to previously?” As Baxter said this, the bees flew into the beehive. “I cannot think another animal to speak with.”
“Well, we can talk to… We can talk to grasshoppers, butterflies, beetles, dragonflies… And there are plenty of spiders and birds!”
Baxter replied to the last part without hesitation. “Spiders and birds will eat us. Past the animals you had suggested before the last two- the grasshoppers, butterflies, beetles, and dragonflies- there are very few, if any, animals we can talk too. And you can find similarities between those that you mentioned and those we talked to today.” Brandon felt, after this sentence, that he had lost the argument. “A butterfly, for example, would compete with us for the flowers. And a dragonfly would consider himself above us, surely. You’ve seen them and their lofty personalities. They think of themselves greater than all others; this is rightfully so due to their brilliant colors. We could never befriend one of them.”
“But the grasshoppers and beetles… What about them?” Brandon was hopeful that he had changed Baxter’s mind.
“These ideas are certainly enticing, and investigating them is even more so. But the grasshoppers move about all the time, and the beetles are often busy and down beneath the flowers. They could make terrific companions, yes, but not during work, which inconveniently happens to be the only time we are outside, and we are very busy during this time.” Brandon could sense confidence in his voice.
“It doesn’t hurt to try, does it?” Brandon paused after saying this, letting it sink in. “What if a friendship buds?”
“I suppose this is true.” Following this statement, the bees parted ways, commencing their finally nighttime activity before coming to their nightly rest.
----------------------
The next morning, after the sun had long since risen, and Brandon and Baxter had been out for quite a time, Brandon spotted a grasshopper.
“The grasshopper- over there.” They had ascended to the air by this time. “Look- how convenient that it is sitting still and is on a leaf.”
“Pursuit of this creature is well justified, I suppose.” Shortly after this comment, the bees landed upon the flower, just above where the grasshopper sat.
“Hello, grasshopper. I am Brandon, and this is my friend Baxter. How are you?” said Brandon, in a cordial tone.
The grasshopper took a moment to respond. “Hello. ‘Tis a beautiful day, is it not? The sun, streaming through the trees, ruffled by a small breeze. Could it be better?”
It was Baxter who replied. “Perhaps slightly more sun and a lighter breeze would be more suitable to me and my kind, due to our small wings and tendency to fly.” Happiness laced his words. “Might I ask your name?”
“My sincerest apologies,” said the grasshopper. “I am known as Lord Hoppe. I am well regarded amongst grasshoppers for my prowess in the field of jumping. Do the names Brandon or Baxter trigger recognition in the mind of an average bee?”
“Well… no.” Brandon said. “Of course, the only name in the bee community that is recognized by everyone is the name of the queen.”
“Is that so?” asked Hoppe. His tone suggested that he felt that he was above the two bees, and it was not hard to conclude that this was so solely due to the fact that they were not well- known. The two sides conversed for a bit of a while, but they both did not enjoy the conversation- the only reason why they lingered was because they thought that someone else found enjoyment, and thus, out of politeness, they stayed. Finally did the conversation come to a close, and the bees and the grasshopper went their separate ways.
After the bees were sure Lord Hoppe was well out of earshot, they began to comment on the conversation. “I found him rather big- headed. Are all grasshoppers this way?” asked Baxter.
“My best answer is yes,” replied Brandon, “because long before we had met, I happened to run into another grasshopper. His personality was equally as inflated as Hoppe’s.”
“Who is left upon our list of capable friends? Beetles?”
“Yes. They are all that are left.”
“Wonderful.”
The bees did not see a beetle to talk to until the following day. They had a conversation, but it did not last long. They realized that beetles were often rather busy, and thus prolonged friendships with their kind was quite ambitious. Brandon wanted to explore more friendships, but they could not find anyone else that they were willing to begin a friendship with. The two bees realized, though, that they grew together as friends and that these escapades created a splendid story to create more friendships with. They learned that although they were did not make any friends, they had experiences they would forever value, and memories that would linger in their minds eternally.