There was an incident with a bumble bee this morning on the bus. I saw the bee before anyone else, floating along the air, heavy, like he might’ve been dying; massive and furry. I watched as he landed on the back of a guy’s jacket. He sat on the back of the jacket for a period of at least twenty minutes. The guy sat there, the bee sat there. The guy didn’t notice. I kept an eye on the bee. I watched as he slowly crawled onto the collar of the guy’s jacket, cringing a little. Was it best to tell the guy or see if he would notice himself?
The guy was very bald which made his head look vulnerable, but then again the bee was lazy, moving slow, content to stay where he was. As he crawled along the collar of the jacket the old woman sat behind saw what was happening and shouted “Bee! bee!”
This startled the guy and the bee and so he wafted into the air as the guy, now alarmed, left his seat to go and find another one. Every time someone new came to sit on the now empty seat the old woman shouted out: “There’s a bee there!” She must’ve said it twenty times. The bee simply sat still or crawled slightly, now on the edge of the seat, still in full view of the passengers behind. When he did eventually take to flight everyone’s eyes were on him. Discussions formed between strangers about the potential danger of this bee. The old woman said she wanted to shoot it.
The bee found one seat and stayed there for ages, every time someone came to sit on the seat they were informed of his presence and so they didn’t sit there. The seat stayed empty despite the growing size of the crowd, occupied only by the slow moving bee. Eventually a man got on the bus and was informed of the presence of the bee and yet still decided to sit in the seat. The man flicked off the bee onto the ground and I didn’t hear anymore about his activities for the rest of the journey. I didn’t think about that bee again, until now.