Dottie stood at the back of the house watching her daughter Teresa play with her best friend Libby, who lived next door. The two girls were discussing something in the waist high weeds of the back field. It was a fairly dry fall day and although Dottie suspected Teresa might have twigs stuck in her clothes, at least she’d not be covered head to foot with mud when she came in for supper.
“That foolish child,” she muttered and crossed her arms. “What the hell am I going to do with her?”
Dottie looked over to the plum tree behind the Taylor house. A few small plums were black and shrivelled in the top branches where no one was able to reach. Dottie remembered the plum jam Mrs. Taylor had given her to thank Dottie for Libby’s costume.
“Once there lived side by side,” Dottie sang low, “Two little girls.”
Teresa and Libby had been paired to sing this song at a school performance just a couple weeks ago. Dottie had made matching blue, gingham aprons and teased the girls that someday she’d make their graduation dresses and then their wedding gowns.
“Shit.” Dottie looked away from the tree. All her plans thwarted again. “I need to get supper started.” Before she turned away Dottie watched for another moment as Teresa broke off a twig.
“Bumblebee babies are inside these plants.” Teresa broke off the dry stem below a hard, bulbous body and wagged it under Libby’s nose. “We gotta bust up as many as we can so next spring there won’t be so many bees.”
“Really?” Libby’s wide eyes stared at her best friend then looked over the entire back field. She shook her head. “I don’t know. Are you sure?”
Teresa took a rock and smashed the plant on a boulder with it. Peeling back the fibrous stalk, she held it up. “Look. You can see it right there.”
Libby peered over Teresa’s shoulders. “Where?”
“Right there.” Teresa jumped up. “I don’t want to touch it with my hands.”
The tone in Teresa’s voice made Libby feel stupid so she pretended to look harder. “Oh. That black thing?”
“Yeah.” Teresa flung it to the ground. “I’m only doing this for you, ya know. Remember how much it hurt when you got stung last summer?”
Libby flinched and rubbed the back of her hand. “Was it this kind of flower that bee was on when I tried to pick it?”
“I don’t remember.” Teresa began whacking at another dried stalk. “But it’s these ones that have the bees.”
Libby stomped on a plant, trying to crush the pod under her sneaker.
“They’re really hard. Here. Use my rock, Libby.”
Together, they crushed most of the plants in a small area behind Libby’s house. The work warmed them in the cool fall air. Teresa took off her jacket and began to whip it through the tall grass, but a sleeve tangled in the stalks and pulled her off balance. She stumbled, then allowed herself to fall and roll partway down the hill. Laughing as she went, she kicked her feet high in the air and pushed herself into another roll.
“The bee queen is dragging me into her lair,” Teresa yelled, but Libby wasn’t fooled. She heard her friend’s laugh peal up the hill.
