*****
Giggle Book One
Bee Sting
The sun had broken through the giant timbers of the forest. The summer flowers filled the woods with fragrances carried by the summer breeze throughout the forest. It was summer in the little community of Barefoot; it was a wonderful time.
“I love it, I love it,” cried Chester P. Squataberry.
Chester lived off Clubbs Road in a little wooded area down in Stoney Point Hollow. It was early that next morning in Shaggiebark Meadow when Chester leaped out of his bed, slipped out of his pajamas, put on his shirt and slid into his overalls. With a quick gesture here and a flip-flop there, he raided the kitchen cupboard for a quick bite to eat. He looked about the room; it was in shambles. Shoes and clothes were everywhere and dishes were scattered about. It was without a doubt, the worst mess ever. As Chester continued to look about, his eyes bugged out, his mouth dropped to his chest and his shoulders slumped.
Huh, I guess I am not a very good housekeeper, he said as he giggled to himself. Oh, I’ll get to it later. It’s no big deal. At least it looks lived in, he laughed.
About that time, knock, knock, knock echoed throughout the room.
“Hey, Chester, are you in there?” yelled Gifford his best friend.
“Coming, Gifford!” hollered Chester. “I’ll be right there.”
Hurriedly, Chester made his way across the room to the door. He tripped over the mess in the floor and even stumped his toe before he got to the door.
“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” he cried.
Panting for breath, Chester finally reached the door; he turned the doorknob slightly, opened the door and fell to the floor.
“Come in, Gifford,” he mumbled.
“Hey, Chester, what’s going on?” replied Gifford. “I see you haven’t cleaned up yet. I thought you were going to do it last week?”
“Yeah, I was supposed to,” he said with embarrassment.
“You ready for our morning walk?” asked Gifford.
“You bet,” said Chester. “Let me get my flip-flops on and I’ll be ready to go.”
As the two took off through Shaggiebark Meadow, they raced to the tall timbers at the edge of the forest. Quickly, Gifford took the lead, leaving Chester straggling behind. Chester was out of breath, out of shape and gasping for air.
“Hold up, Gifford. Hold up!” yelled Chester.
“Come on, Chester,” Gifford replied. “Don’t be such a slowpoke.
Eventually, Chester reached the foot of the timbers and collapsed. He was completely exhausted from the race. Gifford, however, was rolling around on the ground laughing so hard that he was in tears.
“It’s not funny,” barked Chester.
“But…, the look on your face,” responded Gifford. “It was killing me.”
“Oh, yeah!” screamed Chester as he started laughing.
Both of them laughed and rolled around on the ground. They laughed so hard their tummies ached. All of a sudden, Chester stopped in his tracks. His laughter had faded out and a warm smile stretched across his face.
“What is it?” questioned Gifford.
“Can you smell that?” Chester asked as he hushed Gifford. “Shhh, smell the aroma in the air.”
As Gifford began to sniff the wind, his little eyes filled with tears and a big smile crossed his face.
“It’s…,” stuttered Gifford.
“It is honey,” replied Chester, “fresh honey.”
Their mouths watered as they continued to sniff the wind. They licked their lips as the sweet smell of fresh honey encircled them and their bellies began to growl.
“Do you smell it, Gifford?” asked Chester.
“I do, I do, I do!” shouted Gifford. “Where do you think it’s coming from?”
“I don’t know,” answered Chester. “But, we can follow the smell and find out; come on, let’s go.”
“I’m right behind you,” responded Gifford.
As the smell of the honey lured them deep into the giant timbers, the thickest of the timbers pulled darkness in around them.
“Where are we?” asked Gifford.
“I don’t know for sure,” replied Chester.
“But…, it’s so dark,” stuttered Gifford.
“I know,” replied Chester. “Keep following your nose.”
About that time, Chester stopped suddenly. His piercing eyes scanned the shady forest.
“Listen,” he said. “Shhh, listen.”
“What is it?” Gifford asked. “What do you hear?”
“Shhh, I believe it is bees,” said Chester, “a bunch of bees.”
“Where?” questioned Gifford.
“I don’t know for sure,” said Chester. “But, wait a minute; look over there. It’s a swarm of bees around that giant hollow beechnut tree. Shhh, we have to be quiet.”
“Okay,” whispered Gifford.
Quietly, Chester and Gifford made their way to the beechnut tree. They crawled on their bellies so the bees wouldn’t see them. Slowly, they moved closer and closer, being careful not to turn a leaf or break a twig. They didn’t want to be caught in the act and get stung.
“We’re almost there,” whispered Chester who was a little bit ahead of Gifford.
As Chester motioned with his hand, Gifford moved up beside him. The busy bees created a loud buzzing sound. In just a matter of minutes, Chester and Gifford lay at the foot of the giant beechnut tree with the bees swarming above their heads. Suddenly, Chester started giggling. He tried real hard to hold back his laughter, but Gifford began to giggle too.
“What’s so funny?” asked Gifford.
“Can you believe those bees? We have snuck in here without them even knowing. We are two slick bears.”
“Yeah, two slick and hungry bears,” replied Gifford.
As the two giggled, their mouths watered even more and their bellies growled louder than before.
“What are we going to do?” questioned Gifford.
“I don’t know for sure,” replied Chester. “But, it looks like the hive is very high up in the tree. Let’s move around to the other side and get a better look.”
Carefully, the two shifted to the other side of the tree. They couldn’t believe what they saw.
“Can you believe it?” whispered Chester. “Look, the tree is hollow and their honey is dripping down through the center. Today is our lucky day, Gifford. We have found a goldmine of fresh honey.”
Gifford’s eyes sparkled and a big wet smile crossed his face.
“How are we going to get it?” asked Gifford.
“Well, let me see,” said Chester. “Let me work this matter out.”
As they lay there on their bellies, they took the end of their fingers and wiped them in the pile of honey that had already dripped through.
“Hmm, that’s good,” said Gifford.
“Hmm, that’s some good honey,” replied Chester.
As they licked the pile of honey clean, Chester thought more and more about what they needed to do. The bees flew right above their heads, unaware of what was going on below them.
“That’s it,” cried Chester with so much enthusiasm that his face looked like it was going to explode.
He got close to Gifford and whispered softly in his ear. Awkwardly, Gifford listened.
“We’ll come in at night and place an empty canning jar under the drip. The next night we’ll come back, get the full jar and replace it with another empty one.”
“Oh, yeah,” replied Gifford. “That’s brilliant, Chester; that’s the best idea you have ever had.”
So, that night they snuck back out to the old hollow beechnut tree and placed a couple of jars under the dripping honey. Night after night, the hungry sweet tooth twosome raided the old beechnut tree. Night after night, they packed off their jars of honey. They took them home and emptied them into glasses, tops, pots and pans. Chester’s house was running ov
er with honey; it was everywhere. Each night, they made their way through the dark timbers. They laughed to themselves about pulling this over on the bees. The bees slept on night after night, unaware of their missing honey. It was about a week later when Coots, one of the worker bees, noticed something was wrong.
“Hey, Maynard,” yelled Coots. “Come over here.”
Quickly, Maynard flew over by his side.
“What is it Coots?” asked Maynard.
Carefully, the two worker bees looked the situation over.
“It seems to me we are missing some honey,” stated Coots.
Maynard eyeballed the situation and came up with the same conclusion. There was definitely a lot of honey missing. As Coots sounded the alarm, the hive immediately filled with a huge swarm of bees.
“Find that missing honey,” demanded Coots. “Maynard, search the timbers and we’ll search around here.”
As the swarm dived and mixed into the air, Maynard and some of the bees shot out through the timbers and disappeared into the woods.
“Spread out men and leave no stone unturned.”
At Chester’s house, Chester and Gifford were sound asleep. They were tired from being up all night taking the honey. The room was filled with jars, buckets, bottles, tops, cans and even vases of honey.
“Buzz…”
Suddenly, out of the blue, there was a cry heard throughout the giant timbers.
“Here’s our problem,” screamed one of the workers.
“Over here, Coots, over here,” cried another worker.
Without hesitating, Coots turned quickly and rushed to the sound.
“What is it? What is it?” yelled Coots.
“Here, look here!” shouted the excited worker. “There’s a hole in the bottom of the tree and there is honey dripping out.”
As Coots looked the situation over, he noticed some pans and bottles under the dripping honey. As he surveyed the situation, he saw tracks beneath the tree and a trail of honey leading toward the end of the timbers.
Maynard and the other bees swarmed up on the two sleeping night workers. As Maynard and the others sneaked about the room, they quickly figured out where the missing honey was and who was responsible.
“Let’s go,” whispered Maynard. “Let’s get back to Coots and the others.”
The bees left and the two honey thieves slept on, unaware of what lay ahead. Maynard and the others rushed back through the timbers to tell Coots. Maynard explained to Coots what they had found. The bees all gathered their little heads to discuss their next move; their little wings fluttered with excitement. They came up with plan A and plan B; they were ready to put them into action.
It wasn’t long until darkness shaded the forest. Hidden out of sight, in the midst of the darkness, the swarm of bees waited; they didn’t make a sound. When the light of the moon pierced the darkness, it wasn’t long before Chester and Gifford arrived carrying some more bottles, glasses and buckets.
“Shhh,” Coots hushed the others.
High above, perched on the limbs of the beechnut tree, Coots and the swarm of bees waited patiently.
“Okay, Maynard, plan A,” said Coots.
Immediately, Maynard and the others took flight.
“Gifford,” hushed Chester, “stop rattling those bottles, glasses and buckets.
“I’m being as quiet as I can,” Gifford responded.
Maynard and the others made a beeline straight to Chester’s house and started bringing back the honey. With the lights on their little helmets to help them find their way at night, they moved through the darkness with precision.
“Shhh,” hushed Chester. “We are almost there; we don’t want to wake them. This is like taking candy from a baby.”
“Shhh,” hushed Coots. “Be patient,” he told the others as they fluttered about.
Hurriedly, the two honey stealing bears swapped the full containers with the empty ones and headed home. They made several trips to the beechnut tree until they were completely worn out. As they made their last trip through the woods to home, the bees headed back to the beechnut tree.
“Look at the pretty fireflies,” said Chester.
“I’ve never seen so many,” replied Gifford.
“Come on,” instructed Chester. “We have to get finished; I’m so tired and sleepy.”
Finally, the light of the morning sun beamed through the giant timbers as Chester and Gifford collapsed on their backs. They were so tired and worn out that they never looked around to notice that all their honey was gone.
“Zzzzzz,” sounded throughout the house as the two bears slept. They were so tired and sleepy that they never noticed the swarm of bees that filled the house. They were perched everywhere, even on the rafters. Quickly, Coots gathered the bees together.
“Now, men,” he said. “I guess you can call Plan A a bee sting, but Plan B is the real bee sting, the real McCoy.”
He reached for his stinger, flicked it back in a bow and then let it go.
“Men, get into the attack formation!”
Hurriedly, the bees took their positions. Coots held up one finger, then two and then three.
“Attack!” screamed Coots.
As his voice echoed throughout the room, the swarm of bees attacked. Chester and Gifford jumped up out of their beds. Even though they were still sleepy eyed, they fought and fought.
“Ouch! Ouch! Oh me! Ouch! Help me,” they each cried.
“Gifford, follow me. Ouch! Ouch! Oh my!” screamed Chester.
They ran out of the house and jumped into the creek. The bees followed and perched themselves in some nearby paw paw trees and laughed until their little bellies hurt. Chester and Gifford lay in the creek covered from head to toe with bee stings.
“We showed them,” exclaimed Maynard. “They’ll never take our honey again.”
“Their old hides are thick,” said Coots. “We probably didn’t hurt them. I think we scared them more than anything.”
After they all calmed down, the bees and bears all started laughing.