Of Honeybees and Tractors...

Well, here it is. It isn't perfect; it's still a little too talky and not actiony enough, but oh well.

Two honeybees are flying around near an orchard in California. They stop at a hive and, noticing there isn't any activity around it, decide to peek in; it’s deserted, except for the queen, who glances up at them weakly.

Queen: Gone. They’re all gone. All… gone.

Bee #1: What… what are you doing here all alone? Not even a single bee around to care for you! Is this how we’re treating our queens nowadays?

Queen: They all left.

Bee #1: Left?

Queen: Left, died. They’re gone, at any rate. And soon I will be too.

Bee #2: What? They left? They left you to die?

Queen: Effectively, yes. They were… sick, I think. And they left. Our colony has… collapsed.

Bee #1: There was a colony near us, back home, that just, one day it just… they were all gone.

Queen: Then it isn’t only us. I fear for the whole bee population, tired and overworked as we are!

Bee #2: Your majesty, is there anything—anything at all—we can do?

Queen: I’m afraid I’m nearing the end. No—it’s no use now, you won’t be able to help me.

Silence.

Queen: Well, if maybe… you know, if you were willing to… wait with me, until… until…

Bee #1: Of course!

Short silence.

Queen: Where are you all from?

Bee #2: Somewhere far away, I think. Every month, it seems, we’re taken to a new land.

Bee #1: New land with new plants. But always just one type of plant. One type of plant as far as the eye can see…

Bee #2: And when that plant stops flowering, we move on. I’m so tired, so weak. This winter, they woke us up out of hibernation so we could be trucked somewhere far, far away. And the food they gave us was terrible!

Queen: Yes, it is rather… jarring, being picked up after just three weeks in one place, then brought to another for maybe a month, then brought to another—

They hear two men walk by, talking.

Bee #1: Shhh!

Man #1: One hundred forty a box? Yeesh! Those are some expensive bees.

Man #2: These aren’t just any bees. These bees are more productive than any of the competition’s bees! It’s true! They’ll make you a huge profit.

Man #1: Well, I dunno..

Man #2: Of course, there are always other places I can take my bees if you don’t want them...

Man #1 (hastily): No, no. If that’s what you all are charging nowadays, then I suppose I got no choice… (they walk out of hearing range)

Queen shudders.

Queen: It makes one feel so… used. It’s so tiring.

silence

Queen gasps audibly.

Bee #2: Your majesty!

Bee #1: Is everything all right?

Queen (visibly weakening): I’m… it’s the end. Go now, and figure out what’s causing this problem we have. For the sake of our species and all the plants we pollinate, you must… figure… this out. I… have faith in you. (Her eyes shut, and she falls gently forward).

Bee #2: No! Your majesty!

Bee #1 (pulling him away): Quickly, we have no time to lose!

They emerge from the hive into an almond orchard, with rows and rows of almond trees running off to the horizon. All around them, bees are buzzing from tree to tree in a mechanized way, all in sync. A farmer walks by, inspecting.

Bee #2: How will we ever figure this out?

Bee #1: I don’t have any clue, but I know we must! There could be hundreds of hives in danger.

Bee #2: Don’t you think you’re exaggerating just a bit?

A bee flies past, clearly not healthy. She isn’t flying straight, and almost runs into them.

Bee: Oh! I’m sorry, I’m just… not feeling so well. Oh, God… She falls over.

Bee #2: Oh no! She’s… is she dead?

A few other bees come wobbling past.

One of the bees: It’s got the whole hive!

Bee #1 (very interested): What’s got the whole hive?

The same bee: This… sickness. We’re all dying. We had to leave our queen.

Another bee: I’ve heard it’s happening all over! More and more bees are falling ill and their whole colonies are collapsing!

They fly off. Bee #1 looks at Bee #2.

Bee #2: Ok, ok. But I still don’t see what WE can do. We’re just two little bees, and this is such a big problem!

They hear many, many bees flying past, chanting. They find themselves in the midst of a giant swarm of bees, wearing t-shirts and holding signs with anti-monoculture, anti-industrial farming slogans.

They approach one of the bees, who’s wearing a shirt that says “Monoculture killed my children”

Bee: Howdy. What are you up to?

Bee #1: We’re… well… we’re…

Bee #2: What’s all the protest about?

Bee in the shirt: I’m tired; I’m overworked; I haven’t been able to stay in one home more than a month for my whole life. I’m fed up, so I’m doing something about it.

Bee #1: Tired, overworked. Yes, we’re tired and overworked and we’re getting sick because of it!

Another bee: Those humans think they can get us to do whatever they want us to!

Bee #2: But what can we do about it? They’re so powerful. The rest of us are… well, we’re just inferior!

The same bee: That’s what they want you to think, my friend. Stand up for yourself! Refuse to work! Refuse to leave when they try to pack you up to travel to yet another new land! Do something, and they won’t know how to handle it. What they want is for you to obey, and not even think about it.

Bee #1: We certainly need to do something before we’re all wiped out.

The bee in the shirt: We need to make them realize how much they need us. We may be small, but we give them food. Unfortunately, it may take us dying off in huge numbers for them to quit taking us for granted.

Bee #2: How will we eat if we don’t work?

Another bee, who’s been listening: We find food on farms that don’t use monoculture.

Bee #1: What’s… monoculture?

The same bee: These rows and rows of the same plant, that’s monoculture. Come, clearly you both have much to learn. There are some extra signs over there, if you want…

They fly off, talking.

The farmer passes by again, this time on his cell phone.

Farmer: Yeah. Yeah, one little bolt fell off and the whole durn machine stopped working. The whole tractor. Yeah, it’s sure a pain in MY neck…

He continues walking out of earshot.

End.