The Bees, The Horse, and The Hedgehog

The hedgehog was finally clean. Tilde put it in her breast pocket and it peeped its eyes to survey the acreage. Tilde took her last sip of tea before starting her morning rounds. “Good morning Stryder,” said Tilde as she mounted the Clydesdale. Stryder whinnied in response before setting off. The faint buzzing, always present on the property, grew louder as she approached her first hive. The hedgehog dove deeper into her pocket at the sound of the bees. Bees!

Tilde nodded with approval. The hedgehog squeaked to concur. The bees buzzed in welcome as the sun beat down.

Tilde wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. "I don't know, Cannibal," she said to the hedgehog, "if Dumb Comfort doesn't come through with the money, we're gonna lose the Sanctuary and all these bees are going into the bank vault. Poor little bees."

By way of answer, Cannibal squeaked.

Tilde dismounted Stryder and began to hum the tune “The Way You Look Tonight” to calm the bees in order to inspect the hive. Just then, the sound of hooves made Cannibal burrow into Tilde's pockets. The white stetson and backwards spurs announced the arrival of Dumb Comfort. He was covered in bees.

"Are you covered in bees because you're so sweet?" asked Tilde.

"Maybe" grinned Dumb Comfort. "Come here and give me a kiss."

"No. You're covered in bees. Did you get the loan?"

There is a peculiar expression that crosses the face of a man who has not done what is expected of him. Tilde recognized it and nodded in resignation.

"Here," said Dumb Comfort. "Let me draw out some water for you." He sauntered over to the well, dust erupting around his boots and bees clinging to his shirt. He tripped over a rock and sprang, head over heels, into the well as bees erupted in indignation.

"Cannibal, go!" said Tilde. The hedgehog scampered down Tilde's legs and across to the crank of the well. Taking the rope in his teeth, Cannibal swung down into the dark.

Tilde shook her head as she once again began to hum, this time to the calming tune of “The Blue Danube.”

The dust rose again. With an eerie silence, a black limousine rolled along the path up to the well. All the bees flew back into their nests. Nothing stirred. In the distance, a raven called. With a most unbeelike buzz, a window rolled down. Tilde peered into the car. She could not see the face within, but she heard a voice, neither male nor female, utter: “Do you have the money? Foreclosure is imminent." Foreboding music could be heard playing in the distance. How apropos, Tilde thought as she listened to the notes.

"Just a minute," said Tilde, "I need to get my boyfriend out of the well." The only sound was her footsteps as she strode over to the well. "Thank God you're safe," she said, as Cannibal emerged. She held out her hand, but Cannibal just rolled up into a spiny ball, raising his quills. Tilde withdrew her hand. "Cannibal, what's the matter with you?" she asked.

Cannibal uncurled to reveal a single piece of yellow paper. Gingerly, she took the paper in her hands. She smiled. "How much do I owe the bank? How much is written in that little black book of yours?"

From the car came a noise somewhere between a growl and hiccup.

"Well, here! Eureka! A cashier's check for $20,000!" With three swift motions, she folded the paper into an airplane and launched it into the limousine window. The whole car recoiled as if it had been stuck in the eye. The bees started buzzing again in jubilation as the window rolled up. The limousine lurched backward down the road.

Relief flooded through Tilde as she watched the car disappear in the distance. "Good work, Cannibal, finding that mysterious $20,000. I really hope we don't have to pay it back. But for now, let's go eat some honey." Cannibal squeaked in delight. She swung her leg over Stryder and rode off to the next beehive.

"But I'm still stuck in the well!" howled Dumb Comfort.

The End