Chapter One
518 Words
Chapter OneAs the wasps planned their invasion of Earth, Jason Anderson, a four-year-old boy from southwestern Canada, was stung by a small honeybee. He didn't feel a thing. He watched as the bee landed on his hand and the stinger went into his skin. Then the bee flew away.
“Jay!” his friend Buddy Ainsworth yelped. “You got stung.”
“Don't feel nuffin'.” Jason looked at his hand. There was no bump. The skin was smooth and fair.
Buddy frowned. “Aw, doesn't it hurt?”
“No.”
Buddy ran to the big white house where Jason's mother stood at the window. “Mrs. Em! Jay got stung by a bee.”
Emily Anderson ran down the wide stone steps. “Let me see. Is it swollen?”
He stuck out his unmarked hand.
“You're sure you were stung?”
“Yeah.”
“He got bit all right, Mrs. Em.” Buddy jumped from one foot to the other. “A bee got him. We were picking flowers.”
“How many times must I tell you boys? Don't pick Greta's flowers next door. She loves her garden.”
“Loves it like I love our cat Kitty-Winks?” her son asked.
His mother smiled. “Not quite that much.”
“So how come I don't feel the bee sting?”
“I don't know, honey. We'll ask your father about this. He's very smart. You must be immune to bee stings.”
At Buddy's confused look, Jason said, “Immune means we don't hurt when something bites us.”
His mother nodded. “Lucky boy. I don't know where you got your immunity from. My arm swells when I get stung. I don't dare go near a bee.”
Buddy slapped at a mosquito. The spot on which the insect had landed was already turning red. “Wish I was immune.”
“If you were,” Jason said, “then that mosquito wouldn't have hurt you, and your hand wouldn't have that red spot where he bit you.”
“He sucked my blood,” Buddy declared. He glanced up at Mrs. Anderson. “Is Jay's dad a doctor?”
“Not a medical doctor, Bud. He's a PhD, a Doctor of Philosophy. He's a biochemist.”
“Oh. A bee-chemistry guy.” Buddy laughed at his own joke.
“He does research on natural chemicals. Jason here is going to be a biochemist too. Aren't you, honey?”
He gave a nod.
“Why do you want to do that?” Buddy asked his friend.
Jason shrugged. “It's cool.”
“He's very interested in bees and other insects,” his mother replied. She put her arms around both the boys and led them up the stone steps. “Apple juice and brownies, anyone?”
The robotess they had bought for a tutor wheeled along behind them, holding flowers in a cup. Jason glanced back at her. He loved his new robot teacher. She taught him about beauty and truth.
“The bee didn't hurt me,” he mumbled. “I'm immune to bee stings.”
Garter snakes wiggled through the tall grass in old Greta's garden. No way Jason would go there again. He hated snakes, but bees were okay.
The brownies and apple juice were delicious. Kitty-Winks, his small grey cat, curled around the robotess's silver feet, and Buddy shared green Gummigators from a bag in his pocket.
By the time his father returned home from work, Jason had forgotten all about the bee sting. In fact, he didn't remember it until eight years later—when alien bees invaded Earth.
- Writer
