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, ____, ( 27/10/01 anada456 ,
/ \ ,_____ (--|_\_,,_, _ _| _ __________ ,-.______ _,---._ __ _/ \
/ \+------ _| ) | |(_|(_|(_|_ .net------/ )----.-' `./-/ \
/ / ( |__, ( ( ,' `/ /|
\ / \ `-" \'\ / |
\ / "The Bees: A Parable" `. , \ \ / |
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/ by Higgins ( ; mEoW!@/| '
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|____________________ Anada is cat-friendly! __) |__\ `.___________|/
`--' `--'
Henry had hated bees ever since he could remember, but it all
actually began the day he had been stung by a dying yellow jacket. By
holding a bottle in one hand and its cover in the other, he had been able to
imprison a solitary yellow jacket. He had previously punched holes in the
cover which were large enough to permit a flaming straw to be pushed down
toward the bee. The burning straw had served two purposes. The first was
merely to singe the wings, and antennae, but the second was to use up most
of the oxygen in the bottle. Thus immediately after being burned, the bee
was threatened with a lack of oxygen. Upon withdrawal of the straw, a flat
piece of wood was placed against the cover of the jar to prevent the reentry
of air. When Henry saw that his prize captive was dying from lack of
oxygen, he removed the piece of wood from the cover, allowing fresh air to
reenter the prison, but a thin spray of iodine would accompany the new
supply of oxygen. After the process was completed, if the bee survived it
was given several days to recuperate before a newer and more intricate
system of torture devices was introduced.
One day Henry made the mistake of dropping the jar containing the bee
on a concrete walk. The glass was shattered into a large finite number of
minute slivers and the yellowjacket was set free. Henry attempted to step
on the unfortunate creature, but with a great final effort the bee rose from
the ground and thrust its needle-like tail projection into Henry's left
eyelid. The bee died in the exchange but the eye, in a surprising short
time, became a large, red lump of pain.
According to Henry, prior to this incident he had borne no especial
dislike for the yellow and black species of bee. But now a great hatred was
ignited, the increasing pain of the sting intensifying the heat of the
flame. Henceforth, Henry dedicated himself to eradicating as many of the
six-legged creatures as he possibly could.
As time passed his hatred grew and his mode of attack became
concerned with large scale operations. He burned bee hives. He clothed
himself in bee-proof attire and ravished entire colonies. One operation he
especially enjoyed was to move a hive, dig a hole where the hive had been,
and fill the hole with water. Bees normally send scouts out to gauge the
distance between a source of honey and the hive. Thus when the worker bees
return with honey, the distance to the hive and the weight of the honey
having been taken into considerstion, their stamina just suffices to get
them back to the hive. In moving the hive back a few feet and replacing it
with a pool of water, Henry had anticipated that the bees would fall short
of the hive and drop into the water, exhausted.
People who knew Henry regarded him as a fanatic. Those who kept bees
would try to keep him from setting foot on their land. But he would
accomplish his missions under the cover of night. When the owners later
found the dead bees they would know for sure that Henry had been
responsible, but nothing could be proven against him.
One afternoon in late summer Henry, exhauted by his nocturnal
activities, took a short dip in his private swimming pool and then stretched
out on a lounge to get some sun. The sun's heat brought sweat to his brow
and he became drowsy and dropped off to sleep. He was awakened by a gentle
breeze and a monotonous humming noise. Feeling chilled by what would seem
to be a cloud blocking off the son's rays, he rolled onto his back and
opened his eyes. The last thing Henry ever saw was a large cloud of black
and yellow bodies descending on him on masse.
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`-.^.-' (c) 2001 Anada e'zine by Higgins `-.^.-'
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