I think I’m stupid. My head buzzes a lot inside, just like a hive.
Yesterday I was waiting for Mom to take me to Dad. I was playing my Star Brawls but really I was waiting for Mom to tell me to get into the car. The bees in my head were circling slowly, the buzz was not too loud, about usual. Mom was coming into the room and going back into the kitchen clutching her phone, she was a little upset, I think. When the streetlight lit up and became just barely pink, she told me that she was sorry but I would not be able to see Dad that day.
That made me upset. I did not want to play anymore. The bees got angry and started buzzing hard. I wondered if Mom did something that made Dad angry. Maybe it was her fault I could not see him that day. I felt it was unfair I was stuck with her. With her and the bees.
Next morning Dad came over with a big bag of takeout, buckets of fried chicken, and fries, and soda. We all ate, and I could see Mom was annoyed but I was happy, Dad was here, and that was all that mattered.
Dad wanted me to come home with him, but Mom quietly told him something, and he started yelling and hitting the doorframe. I wish she would stop being like that. The bees were buzzing so loud that I could barely hear or see them. I stayed home that day.
The summer rolled so fast, I was playing with my friends, both inside and outside, and with my friends, the bees were quiet. When I was at Dad’s, they were quiet, too. When Mom and Dad fought, they were buzzing a lot. Because she kept making Dad upset. I started to think maybe she was selfish. She did not care that she made Dad mad and made the bees mad and made Dad look like a hungry animal. He would forget that I was there, and he would grow a little and darken and loom over her just a bit.
Everything Mom did, the way she dressed, the way she walked, the way she talked, everything was not right, everything set him off. I wished so badly she would stop doing that. Why couldn’t she just be quiet? Why couldn’t she just make everyone happy?
My friend Bobbyn turned nine three months ahead of me, I would turn nine in November.
Dad picked me up from her birthday party. His place was pretty clean, but I could see that the door was recently broken around the handle. We watched a few Pixar movies, and Dad was popping cans of White Claw one after another. The bees were silent and I was just enjoying this quiet and my time with him.
In the morning, he made me waffles with a tiny red waffle maker, and they were heart-shaped, and fluffy, like my love for him. We bought hotdogs, walked the bridge across the river, and watched the geese, and the swans, and Dad told me not to crumble my hotdog in the water because the bread is not good for the birds. That moment, I adored him.
Dad popped a few more cans and drove me home.
Mom met us at the door. I barely saw her and the bees got furious immediately, buzzing so fast and loud. She silently watched Dad walking me over, then she squinted and said that he was drunk. But he wasn’t drunk, I know how he is when he is drunk, it was just two Claws and he was fine. God I wished she would just shut up. I was a little scared he would get mad.
But Dad stayed calm. He said he was fine, and asked for some water. We all stepped inside, and he went to the sink. She stayed at the door, keeping it open. She was telling him he should leave, telling him without words, and that was rude, and it broke my heart a little. The buzz was very loud, a constant hum. I wanted to cry.
Dad was drinking water, looking at her. He wasn’t darkening, he wasn’t looming. But then she said something impatiently. And he pounced.
Just, he did not pounce at her. He pounced at me. He moved so fast I did not even see him. One moment, he was at the sink, next, he’s standing next to me, grabbing my arm, and looking directly at her. His hold on my arm was so tight I could not feel it at all at first but then it just blew up my body like white electric shock. I cried something out and I could not hear myself over the hum of the bees. I sort of slumped down on the floor, with my arm still pinned in the air by his grip. The hum engulfed everything. It was so loud, it got louder and then when I could not fit it in anymore it exploded out of me.
She closed the door and stepped inside. She opened her mouth, like she was about to scream, but she didn’t scream, just her mouth had gotten black, like her eyes, and I realized, it was blackened by the bees. They were pouring out of her head, shrouding her face in a huge cloud, until they all flew towards us, towards me! I screamed, and maybe Dad screamed, too, I could not hear anything, the buzz was so strong, so loud.
He let go of my arm, he started flailing his arms and leaping around, he stumbled upon the table, and fell, and then he could not stand up anymore, wiggling on the floor like he was tickled like crazy. The swarm had covered him entirely, making him black. And as his body was getting smaller, the buzz was getting quieter, until it stopped fully.
The bees all took off of his body and returned into my mother’s head in neat, queued lines.
It all got so quiet. No bees. No buzz. Just quiet.
I tried to stand up, and my legs gave out.
She said, “Oh honey…”
And: “I never meant for you to see this…”
And: “I’m so sorry.”
I said dumbly, “I thought they were my bees.”
“They are wasps” she said absentmindedly. And, “I need to do something with the body.”
Except it was not a body. Just bare bones laying on the floor. Yellow bones, not white. Not at all like the skeletons for Halloween.