Walsh 4

Not that long ago, but long enough ago that only the old People remember, Bumblebees would fly.

“How silly!” young People say, and the old People just shake their heads sadly.

See, when they were young People, People had it in their heads that life would be better spelled out: scientific and all figured out, down to the very last mystery. So scientists and very smart Men and Women got to work figuring everything out, every last mystery.

Except one.

Bumblebees, they discovered, could not fly. It was not aerodynamically possible. They held big conventions and argued days, weeks, months, even years.

But to no avail. They could not figure it out.

So, obviously, there was only one thing to do: inform the poor, misguided Bumblebees. They had a convention to figure out how.

A long time ago, a very famous and intelligent scientist had come up with a way to talk to Bees, hoping to increase honey output. To talk to Bees you must dance. It is a very specific and controlled dance, very scientific.

A group of scientists went to a Bumblebee nest in the forest near the convention center where the argument took place. “Hello,” danced one scientist. All the Bumblebees around stopped their work (as Bees are always very busy) and looked at him curiously. They had never been addressed by a Man before, let alone in their native dance. The scientist danced further.

“Bumblebees-Can’t-Fly,” he danced. “Impossible. Spread-The-Word.” The Bumblebees watched in silence. “Have-A-Nice-Day,” he added.

And then he and his group walked away.

The Bumblebees in attendance thought long and hard on this. What did Man’s message mean? They danced among themselves, searching for an answer. They decided that the only thing to do was to bring the news directly to their Queen herself.

She was most upset. She told her subjects to keep quiet. If this got out, the Bees may panic.

Like many promises about secrecy, this was easier said than done, and soon all of that first meeting had told at least one friend. And those friends, other friends. And so on.

So the news spread quickly. The Bumblebee elders held long meetings with the Queen that lasted days. Not able to fly? Had they been fooling themselves all these generations?

Fear and doubt seized the nest.

The Queen finally ordered that everyone was to relax and assigned a committee of Bee scientists to figure out the facts.

The scientists worked around the clock, day and night, trying to puzzle out the cryptic implications of such a message.

Finally, on Friday, they came to a conclusion.

The Law of Aerodynamics of Man stated that the Flight of a Bumblebee is most impossible. Bumblebees were not properly shaped for flight. They were too heavy. So many problems.

The Bee scientists shook their head.

“Goodness knows how we’ve been able to fool ourselves this long,” concluded the scientists in their report to their Queen.

“I see,” wiggled the Queen sadly, who fondly remembered her youth, soaring through the air towards her life.

They would tell the nest, and after that?

The Queen thought for a long time. “We must tell the others,” she decided. “We must send out an ambassador to spread the news. Call a meeting of the nest.”

The meeting was arranged and everyone stopped their work to listen in.

The scientists gave their report to a captive audience. The Bees were entranced by the logic, the math, the physics of Man. The scientists stepped down and the meeting place burst into distress. Bees danced every which way, trying to have their opinion understood.

The Queen stepped up, and the meeting place stilled, holding its breath. “We must accept this and embrace our new identity,” she swayed, “and inform our brethren. I will assign an ambassador to deliver the news to the nests of the world, and after she leaves…” She quieted, quivering in grief for her nation. “After she leaves we shall no longer fly. We shall embrace our place along the ground. Dismissed.”

The Bees hesitated a moment, then buzzed off to complete the chores they had left behind. No more flying? They’d get by.

Somehow.

The Queen ruminated, pacing among the workers, looking for a suitable candidate. In her heart, she knew that this would be the death of the society in which she grew up.

But.

But, it must be done.

She would lay a new Queen soon.

As she thought, she began to notice how quiet it was among the workers. Serious Bees.