Page 71 of The Burbs and the Bees
“Even if there were something else, I have to be here.” There’s a sadness in his eyes, a regret of sorts as he looks to the horizon, avoiding my gaze.
“Have to?” I ask. Surely he doesn’t have to be here, like I do.
“I promised my dad I’d take care of things, and I plan to do that. I owe him that much.”
I’m about to ask what he means by that when we come across a barn.
“Here we are,” he says. “This is my bee barn.”
We step inside and sunshine slants in through a small window, and the dust we stir up dances in the light with our entrance. I take in the space, my gaze raking over a table with a blue cloth over it and a few tools on top. There is a big steel pot on legs, with a lever on the lid and a bunch of buckets with nozzles on the bottom. A couple of white suits hang on a hook, and Jay takes one down.
“This will be big on you, but that’s what you want. Bees can’t sting if they can’t reach your body.”
I tug it on, and Jay gets into his gear beside me. He checks me over, closes some flap near my neck, and puts a hood on me.
“This is called a veil,” he explains. “And you’ll need these gloves.” Like I’m five years old, he puts the gloves on me and tugs until they are up to my elbow. My stomach does a weird little dance. I’ve had men undress me before but never dress me, and I have to say, it’s kind of nice the way he takes care of me. In fact, the man takes care of everyone. Who, then, is taking care of him? He gives me a once-over, finishes dressing himself, and we head outside to the boxes.
For the next half hour, I listen intently and with fascination as he shows me all the parts to the stacked double boxes. I learn the queen, drones, and workers live in a brood box, where the queen lays her eggs. Brood refers to eggs, pupa, and larvae, and they all develop into fully grown bees. He talks about pollen and nectar stores, how bees
will beard, meaning they all hover together to protect and warm the honey when it’s colder out. He then removes one of the frames from the box. Bees buzz about, and I don’t panic this time.
“Before we process this,” he says, “we need to brush the bees off.” He takes a small brush and gently runs it over the bees, cleaning them from the honeycomb. “Now we take these frames inside and process them in the extractor.” He puts the frames back in the box and carries the entire thing inside.
“What can I do?”
He smiles at my enthusiasm, places a big square container on the table, and removes one of the frames. “You enjoying this so far?”
“Yeah, and I kind of like seeing what fascinates you so much. I like learning about your passions.”
“Beekeeping isn’t for everyone,” he says and frowns, and I’m not sure why, but I get the sneaking suspicion that his sadness has something to do with Juanita.
“Well, I can’t wait to eat the honey.”
“Then are you ready for me to show you how it’s done?” I give a very animated nod. “Okay, some people use a hot knife to remove the honeycomb. I prefer to use this.” He holds up a serrated knife and positions the frame on the edge of the container. “I just cut it away really gently. We only want the honeycomb and don’t want to disturb the honey.”
“What do you do with all that honeycomb?”
“We sell it, or I use it to feed the bees.”
“Amazing,” I say under my breath, and he reaches for me.
“Come here, give it a try.”
I step back. “I don’t want to ruin anything.”
“You won’t,” he says, like he truly believes in me. But I hesitate, and he reaches for me, refusing to take no for an answer. “Come on. You’ve got this.”
“Okay.” I step up to him, and he hands me the knife. I grip it, and he turns the frame he’d been working on so I can clean the other side. His body presses against mine from behind, and he holds the knife with me. I gently move my hand, and he moves with me, guiding me through the honeycomb. I smile as the comb drops into the bucket. I glance at him over my shoulder.
“Isn’t it amazing?” He smiles as I work the comb from the frame and I get it. I get what he sees in this.
“It is,” I say. “Actually, the whole thing is far more complex than I ever knew. So many moving parts.”
“I read books and periodicals and try to keep up on everything so I can properly manage the colonies. But I really enjoy the process.”
I stare up at him with a new kind of appreciation. This guy knows a lot of things about a lot of things. I nod and wish I could find something I loved this much. “I guess my orchard is pretty important for your bees.”
“Very,” he says, and that’s when understanding hits. He can’t let me screw up and run the business into the ground because he needs my trees. That makes me want to succeed all the more.
