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MITCH WAS SEETHING with rage as he paced back and forth in front of Kendra’s house. She wasn’t home when he got there, and her mom said she would be home in about forty minutes. He told her that he would wait outside. Mitch paced the sidewalk for ten minutes, waiting for her to return. He had no idea what he was going to say, but launching into her when he was this angry was probably not a wise choice, or healthy. Giving up on waiting outside, he got into his car and pulled away from the curb, driving a block away to park in front of a school playground. He got out and stared at the still swing set, and then shook his head. Exasperated, Mitch flopped down on the dry grass and laid back, draping his arm over his tired eyes. It had been a while since he had been awake during the day and the sunlight seemed harsh. He rolled over on his stomach and buried his face in his crossed arms, closing his eyes.
Mitch wrestled with his thoughts. He still didn’t know what to say to his girlfriend. Was she responsible for his dad’s death? Was it intentional? On top of everything else, did she have a part in destroying his world, too?
Dad, I miss you, he thought for the millionth time. When did everything start to change? Was it when you died, or was it long before that? When the farmers started selling off their farms? When the city stopped funding the schools? When stores started closing up and people started leaving town? Was it when the government moved in with their own secret plans that didn’t help the city at all?
At least they had finally let everyone know what they were up to on that one. But a top-secret, government-run greenhouse? That was just weird. They said that this was the first of its kind, a way to deal with the drought. Soon all the cities would have their own facility to provide the town with food. Their claim was that they could grow more food in a controlled environment, and would be able to produce enough to supply each town. The problem was that they brought in government workers to finish the facility. None of the jobs went to the people of the city who desperately needed jobs. They said it was because of security concerns. Security? How much security did a greenhouse need? They had allowed people to see the partially constructed facility from a distance, from behind tall chain-linked fencing that was topped with barbed wire. From what they could tell, it was going to be huge, but how much of the structure was going to be administrative buildings, and how much was going to be the greenhouse itself, it was hard to tell.
Whatever. Mitch had more pressing concerns right now. He pulled out his cell phone and glanced at the time. He still had thirty minutes to wait. Crap. Where was she at this time of the morning? He should be at home, asleep right now. He closed his eyes again and fought against the wave of fatigue. If he weren’t careful, he’d end up taking a nap on the dry grass.
A brief hum past his ear made him open his eyes. Two feet from his face was a small, green dandelion, topped with a bright yellow flower. In a playground full of dry grass, there were a few stunted, green weeds, and the stubborn dandelion was the most prevalent of all. A few of them even ventured bravely to put out a flower here and there.
The hum came from a small bee, and Mitch didn’t move, watching the fuzzy insect carefully. When was the last time he had seen a bee? Surely, there were still bees around, but it seemed like they were rare. He remembered, as a small kid, hearing bugs all summer, moving around the grasses, flying amongst flowers, grasshoppers chirping as they launched themselves into the air to avoid being trampled by small boy feet. Mitch tried to remember if he had seen any bees at all this summer, but as far as he could recall, this was the first one.
He studied the busy insect, smiling at how it worked its way over the flower, collecting pollen and parting the flower petals with its efficient feet. The furred abdomen wiggled as it moved back and forth, getting the most out of this rare food source.
A small detail of information clicked into place with a larger puzzle. Bugs. That was what was missing this summer. It wasn’t just the lack of rain; it was the lack of bugs. Why were there very few bugs? This seemed connected to everything somehow. The environment was changing and the bees were disappearing. The vanishing bees were a symptom of a larger problem.
Did the government know about this? Of course they did. They were here building a giant greenhouse weren’t they? They know something they aren’t telling us, he thought. This is so much bigger than a few bees or farms being abandoned.
The bee finished its task and launched itself into the air to find another flower. Mitch rolled over onto his side, propping his head with one hand. The bee didn’t care about government conspiracies, massive greenhouses, or the slow decay of one city. Its only job was to collect pollen to make honey, so that is what it did. In the face of ecological decimation, one bee kept making honey, because that was what it was programmed to do. Despite widespread problems, it did what it could to make a difference where it was, and it did what it could, using the only skill it had.
Mitch quelled the rising unrest in his chest. Make a difference where you are. He thought of Cory, and of Pam, who left town to go to college. He thought of his mom, determined to follow her to greener pastures, as it were. He thought of the bee, as it hummed its way to the next flower and the next.
Where’s your hive, little bee, he thought. Who are you making honey for? Are you really making a difference with your efforts?
The bee didn’t care. It had a job to do.
****
KENDRA WAS HOME BY the time Mitch returned to her house. She seemed uncomfortable to see him, but came out onto the front porch, closing the door behind her.
“You look tired,” said Mitch.
“So do you.”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Mitch glanced out at the quiet neighborhood for a moment and then back at her.
“What’s this job you have, Kendra?”
She shrugged. “I help some friends out with some special-order deliveries.”
“Friends?”
“You can’t tell me who I can be friends with,” she said, holding her head up defiantly.
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to do.” He sighed, clenching his jaw reflexively. “Where were you the night my dad died, Kendra?”
The look on her face was all the answer he needed.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because I want to know.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Look, Kendra, I know you called the cops that night and my dad got shot. I want to know your involvement in it.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and hunched his shoulders defensively.
She crossed her arms and took a step away from him. She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I...I was just trying to stop a fight.”
“Why were you there at all?”
She shrugged and looked at him. “Again, that’s none of your business.”
He took a step towards her, his fists clenched by his sides. “My dad died in that alley that night, Kendra, and I want you to tell me your part in it. Is my dad dead because of you, Kendra? Is he? Dammit, I want to know.” He was shouting as he advanced on her.
She backed away, holding her hands up in front of her. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me Mitch. So help me, you will pay if you hurt me.”
He stopped and exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know. Why did you call the cops that night?”
“I already told you, I was trying to stop a fight. I didn’t know it was your dad who would show up, and I didn’t know he was going to get shot. It’s not my fault.”
“But why were you there? You haven’t told me why you were involved at all.”
She shrugged again, a tiny smile on her lips. “I’ve found a new opportunity. One that is going to allow me to help the people of this town, and make some money.”
He looked at her blankly. “You’re in a black market gang.” It was a statement, not a question.
“You don’t understand. They are helping people.”
“No they are not. They steal goods and sell them to people at jacked up prices. They are using the desperation of people to line their pockets. That’s wrong.”
“Not if it helps people.”
“It doesn’t,” he shouted. “What about our plans, Kendra? We were going to see the world.”
“Your plans, Mitch, not mine. You’re a nice guy and all, but you lack ambition.”
“Ambition?”
“I don’t want to be poor, Mitch. I can’t. I can’t live off the land and not know where my next meal comes from. I don’t want to be without money. You understand don’t you?”
He took a step back, incredulous. “Kendra...”
“I’ve got someone who is going to look after me. I’ll have everything I need. You go on your little trip, and if you make your fortune in the world, you come see me when you get back.” She smiled sweetly.
Mitch’s stomach churned. “You can’t be serious. That’s what this is all about? Money?”
“It’s over Mitch. I’m sorry. I’ve got to look after myself. Please don’t bother me again.” With that, she blew him a kiss, turned and went back into the house, slamming the door behind her.
Mitch didn’t think it was possible for his heart to shatter into pieces that were any smaller. He was wrong.