17 - Why I'm Afraid of Bees (6 page)

As I followed, the bees formed a single, orderly line and shot out through a
tiny hole in a far, upper corner of the hive.

I buzzed around until I found the end of the line. Then I got ready to
escape.

Would I make it?

The very last bee in line, I shot out of the tiny hole into open space. For a
few seconds, I watched the other bees floating away, busily hunting for nectar
and pollen.

I knew I looked just like them. The difference was that they would willingly
return to Andretti’s hive. But I never, ever would. At least, not if I could help it.

“I’m out!” I cried joyfully in my tiny voice. “I’m out! I’m free!”

Dazzled by the sudden bright light of the outer world, I flew around and
around in the beekeeping area. Then I headed for the hole I’d seen in the screen
when I was still in my own body.

I knew it was on the wall that faced my family’s yard. But when I flew over
to it, I stopped and gasped in disappointment.

The hole had been patched up. Mr. Andretti had fixed it!

“Oh, no!” I wailed. “I can’t be trapped! I
can’t
be!”

My heart started thumping crazily. My whole body was vibrating.

I forced myself to calm down and look around.

None of the other bees were in the screened-in area anymore. They’d already
gone outside to collect pollen. And that meant there had to be another way out.

I wasn’t thinking clearly because I was exhausted, worn out from all my
flying around. I sat down on top of the hive to rest.

At that instant, the door between the beekeeping area and the garage opened.
“Good morning, my little bee friend,” Mr. Andretti’s voice boomed. “What are you
doing, lying around on top of the hive? Why aren’t you busy inside making me some honey? Are you
sick? You know we can’t have any sick bees around here.”

As I gazed up weakly, Mr. Andretti moved closer. His huge, dark shadow fell
over me.

I tried to curl up into a ball and disappear. But it was no use. His large
fingers were stretching right toward me!

I yelled in terror. But of course, he couldn’t hear me. What is he going to
do to me? I asked myself. What does he
do
with sick bees?

What does he do with sick bees? I wondered again, quivering in terror.

He probably throws them in the garbage, I thought. Or even worse—he feeds
them to his pet bird or frog.

Despite my weariness, I knew I couldn’t wait around to find out. I had to get
out of there!

Just as Mr. Andretti’s fingers were about to fold around me, I shot up into
the air and buzzed around his head. At the same instant, I saw some other bees
flying in through a tiny hole in the screen. It was in the corner, near the
ceiling.

I buzzed Mr. Andretti’s face one more time. Then I raced toward the hole. As
I tried to squeeze myself out the exit hole, I crashed right into another bee
who was flying in. He glared at me and gave me an angry buzz.

Frightened, I backed off and clung to the screen. I had to wait for a long
fine of bees to come back inside. It seemed to take them forever.

When I was finally sure the last bee had come in, I leaped forward and shot
out of the hole. I was out in the open sky!

“This time I really
am
free!” I screamed in celebration, forgetting my
weariness. “And Andretti’s never going to catch this bee again!”

I landed on a leaf and let the morning sun warm my back and wings. It was a
beautiful day—a beautiful day for finding somebody who could help me get back
into my human body!

Like a rocket, I shot straight up into the air and gazed around. I recognized
the familiar creak of my father opening the back door of my house.

Panting hard, I raced forward.

My father called, “Good-bye, hon! Tell the kids I’ll see them tonight!” over
his shoulder and let go of the door.

I darted into the house. The door slammed hard. Another near miss.

I hummed with happiness. It felt so good to be back in my own house and out
of that dark, sticky hive! I landed on the counter and gazed around at the old,
familiar walls.

Why hadn’t I ever realized how nice my house was before?

Step, step, step.

Someone was coming into the kitchen! I flew up onto the windowsill for a
better look.

Krissy!

Maybe I could get her to listen to me.

“Krissy! Krissy!” I buzzed. “Over here by the window. It’s me, Gary!”

To my delight, she turned and stared in my direction.

“Yes!” I cried excitedly. “Yes—it’s me! It’s me!”

“Oh, terrific,” Krissy groaned. “One of Andretti’s dumb bees got in here
again.”

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for. But she’d still
noticed me! Maybe, I thought, if I flew right onto her shoulder and spoke into
her ear, she’d be able to understand me!

My heart vibrating my entire body, I lifted myself up off the windowsill and
soared toward my sister. “Krissy!” I buzzed as I approached her shoulder. “You
have to listen to me!”

“Aaaaiii!”

Krissy screeched so loud, I was afraid the glass in the windows would
shatter. “Get away from me, bee!”

She started thrashing her hands in the air, trying to bat me away.

“Ow!” I cried out as she slapped me. Stung with pain, I lost control and
landed with a thud on the tiled countertop.

I raised my eyes in time to see Krissy grab a flyswatter from out of the
broom closet.

“No, Krissy, no!” I screamed. “Not that! You don’t want to do that to your
own brother!”

My sister lifted up the flyswatter and thwacked it down right next to me. I
could feel the rush of air from it. And I felt the entire counter shake.

I screamed and quickly rolled to one side.

Krissy, I knew, was a menace with a flyswatter.

She was the champion in our family. She never missed.

The eyes on top of my head spun in terror. And in the gray blur, I could see
the shape of the flyswatter, rising up to slap me again. And again.

“Stop, Krissy!” I screamed. “Stop! You’re squashing me!”

With a strangled gasp, I toppled off the counter. I hit the floor hard and
struggled dizzily to my feet.

Now I started to get angry. Why did Krissy have to be so bloodthirsty?
Couldn’t she just open a window and shoo me out?

Buzzing weakly, I floated up off the floor. Regaining my strength, I began
darting wildly around the room, crashing into the walls and cupboards to show
Krissy how upset I was. Then I shot out of the kitchen.

In a rage, I headed up the stairs to my room. If my sister wouldn’t help me,
I’d get someone else to help. Namely, the new Gary!

The morning sun was high in the sky. But “Gary” was still sound asleep in
my
bed.

Seeing him lying there so peacefully, so completely at home, made me even
angrier.

“Wake up, you slug!” I buzzed at him. He didn’t move. His mouth hung open as
he slept, making him look like a real jerk.

“Yuck! What a creep!” I was sure my mouth never hung open when
I
slept!

I decided to take action. I landed on “Gary’s” head and started walking
around on his face. I was sure my little insect legs would tickle him and wake
him up.

Nothing. He didn’t move.

Even when I stuck a leg up his nose, “Gary” slept without stirring.

“Why is he so wrecked?” I wondered. “Has he been wearing out my body?”

Furious, I ran across “Gary’s” face and climbed down through his hair. Then I
crawled onto his ear. “BUZZ!” I shouted as loudly as I could. “BUZZ! BUZZ!
BUZZ!”

Incredible as it seems, the new “Gary” didn’t even budge.

Just my luck. Dirk Davis was turning out to be the world’s soundest sleeper!

I sighed and gave up. I crawled off “Gary’s” ear and flew around my old room,
gazing down at my bed, my dresser, and my computer.

“My computer!” I cried excitedly. “Maybe I can put a message on the screen! Maybe I can tell my parents what has happened to
me!”

I swooped down to the computer, buzzing eagerly.

Yes! The computer had been left on.

What luck! I knew I wasn’t heavy enough to push the Power button.

Would I be strong enough to type?

A clear blue screen greeted me on the monitor. My heart pounding, I lowered
myself to the keyboard and started hopping around on the letters.

Yes! I was heavy enough to make the keys go up and down.

I paused, resting on the Enter key.

What should I type? What message should I put on the screen?

What? What? What?

As I frantically thought, I heard “Gary” stir behind me on the bed. He let
out a groan. He was waking up.

Quick! I told myself. Type something! Type
anything!

He’ll see it as soon as he gets out of bed.

I hopped over to the letters and began to jump up and down, spelling out my
desperate message.

It was hard work. My bee eyes weren’t made for reading letters. And I kept
leaping up and falling in the cracks between the keys.

After eight or nine jumps, I was gasping for air.

But I finished my message just as “Gary” sat up in bed and stretched.

Floating up in front of the monitor, I struggled to read what I had typed:

I AM NOT BEE. I AM GARY. HELO ME.

Through my blurred vision, I saw that I missed the P in HELP and hit the O
instead. I wanted to go back and fix it. But I was totally wiped out. I could
barely buzz.

Would they understand?

Would they read the message and see me standing on top of the monitor and
understand?

“Gary” would understand. I knew he would. Dirk Davis would figure it out.

I climbed wearily to the top of the monitor and watched him climb out of bed.

Here he comes, I saw eagerly. He brushed his hair out of his eyes. He yawned.
He stretched again.

Over here!
I urged.

Dirk—please—check out the computer monitor!

Dirk—over here!

He picked up a crumpled pair of jeans off the floor and pulled them on. Then
he found a wrinkled T-shirt to go with it.

Come on, Dirk!
I pleaded, hopping up and down on top of the monitor.
Read the screen—please?

Would he read it?

Yes! Rubbing his eyes, “Gary” shuffled over to the computer.

Yes! Yes!

I nearly burst for joy as I watched him squint at the screen. “Go ahead,
Gary! Read it! Read it!” I squeaked.

He squinted at the screen some more, frowning. “Did I leave that thing on
overnight?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Wow. I must be losing it.”

He reached down and clicked off the power. Then he turned and made his way
out of the room.

Stunned, I toppled off the monitor, landing hard on the desk beside the
keyboard. All that work for nothing.

What was “Gary’s” problem, anyway? Doesn’t he know how to read?

I’ve got to talk to him, I told myself, pulling myself together. I’ve got to communicate with him somehow.

I lifted my wings and floated up after him. I followed him through the
kitchen, and then slipped through the back door with him.

As he strode across the grass, I started buzzing around his head. But he
didn’t pay any attention to me.

He crossed the yard and opened our garage door. Then he went inside and
brought out my old skateboard.

I hadn’t used that skateboard in at least two years. My uncle had given it to
me for my tenth birthday, and I almost broke my leg trying to ride it. After
that, I put it away and refused to touch it again.

“Don’t get on that thing!” I yelled at “Gary”. “It’s dangerous. You might
hurt my body. And I want it back in one piece!”

Of course “Gary” didn’t even notice me. Instead, he carried the
skateboard
out in front of the house and put it down on the ground.

A short while later, Kaitlyn and Judy walked up the sidewalk. I waited for
them to start giggling and making fun of the new me.

“Hi, Gary,” Kaitlyn said. She brushed some curly hair off her forehead and
smiled. “Are we late for our skateboarding lesson?”

“Gary” flashed her a big smile. “No way, Kaitlyn,” he answered in my voice. “Want to head over to the playground like we
did yesterday?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Skateboarding lesson? Head over to the playground
like we did yesterday?
What was going on around here?

“I hope you don’t mind, Gary,” Judy said. “We told some of the other kids—like Gail and Louie—how good you are. They all said they can’t wait to take a
lesson from you, too. Is that okay? Because if it isn’t, we can call them, and—”

“No problem, Jude,” “Gary” broke in. “Let’s get going, okay?” The new “me”
hopped onto his skateboard and smoothly rolled his way down the sidewalk. Judy
and Kaitlyn hurried after him.

For a second, I was too shocked to move. But then I decided to follow them.

As I swooped after them, I kept muttering to myself, “I can’t believe it!
Lutz the Klutz is giving skateboard lessons at the playground? Everybody’s
waiting for him to show up? What is going on?”

A few minutes later, the four of us had reached the playground. Sure enough,
a whole gang of kids was waiting there for “Gary”. He put down his skateboard
and started giving everybody pointers on “boarding”, as he called it.

I buzzed over to him and started shouting in his ear again. “Dirk!” I
shouted. “Dirk Davis! It’s me. The real Gary Lutz!”

Very casually, he swatted me away.

I tried to speak to him again. This time he swatted me really hard, sending
me spinning to the ground.

Trying to shake off the pain, I gave up. Dirk isn’t going to help me, I
realized.

Ms. Karmen is my only hope. After all, she was the one with all the
equipment. She was the only person who could reverse what she had done.