Your True Tales
September 2007 - Page 8
Friend of the Bees
by Angela
This story took place when I was about 10 years old (June/July 1983), and took place on my grandmother's property. My sisters, my cousins, and I went picking blueberries one day and we came upon an especially large and lush blueberry bush. The berries were like nothing we'd ever seen; they were huge, almost black, and I swear that you could taste them just by looking.
Now this is where things get weird. As lovely and plump as those berries were, I absolutely refused to pick them. I just got this feeling of danger, like something was warning me about that patch. One of my sisters and one of my cousins ignored my warning and walked into the blueberry patch. Then they started screaming and took off running, pursued by a cloud of seriously cheesed off hornets.
Funny thing about that day, though. The hornets didn't go after the rest of us, just the invaders. What's even more bizarre is that bees, wasps, and hornets let me help them, and seem to protect me in return. A guy who was sexually harassing me was attacked by a swarm of wasps on a fishing trip, and later another of the buggers actually hitchhiked on my coat and flew right after him.
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