If Not for a Bee

by Carol Ross

  Harmon’s face twisted into a snarl. “You little...”

  “Egghead? I know and thank you. I can’t wait to see your pathetic little project. Oh, wait—let me guess... Your daddy did it for you? You do realize he won’t be up there with you waving his badge around when you do your demonstration, right? No one will care who your dad is when you’re up there, Harmon.”

  Harmon’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “At least my dad wasn’t stupid enough to drive his log loader over a cliff.”

  Gareth balled his fists, tension cramming every inch of his body. Even though he knew Harmon was trying to bait him, it was difficult to let that insult pass.

  Elena looked like she wanted to take out Harmon herself. “Let’s go, you guys. Harmon probably needs to get busy measuring the vinegar and baking soda for the little volcano he made.”

  Harmon’s nostrils flared as he glared at Elena. Gareth wondered if he was going to attack at that moment. Harmon’s eyes flitted from Gareth to Reagan and back again. “Just remember that whatever happens today, I warned you, Everett.”

  Gareth didn’t know whether that parting remark was directed at him or Reagan, but he didn’t figure at this point that it much mattered.

  * * *

  JANIE WAS IMPRESSED by how many kids were participating. Not as many as had shown up at the meeting, but way more than she would have guessed would follow through.

  Reagan had put countless hours into his project, and Janie knew he was ready. Family and friends had shown up to support him—her mom, Aunt Margaret and Uncle Ben, Bering and Emily, her cousins Tag and Hannah. Shay had come with Jonah, and Laurel was covering the event for the newspaper.

  Aidan slipped into the hall and took a seat beside her, and Janie felt a rush of affection so intense she had to squeeze her hands together to keep from reaching out and touching him. She wouldn’t have believed it was possible to feel more respect and admiration for this man than she already did, because in spite of what had transpired between them, Aidan had set that aside and put Reagan first.

  The middle school students went first and one by one they presented their projects on the stage that had been assembled for the event. It was clear that the students had worked hard.

  Finally it was Reagan’s turn and Janie’s pulse picked up speed as he wheeled out the large table displaying his project. A bundle of nerves churned inside of her until Aidan reached out and took her hand. The level of calmness he somehow managed to convey had her thinking she might be able to get through the next few minutes without passing out.

  Silence filled the room as Reagan stood before the audience. He looked out over the crowd until, it appeared to Janie, that he found Aidan. Finally he grinned and began to speak. But Janie felt her heart sink as she realized his voice was not carrying throughout the room. She shifted, ready to alert someone that the microphone wasn’t working. Suddenly the lights went out, too.

  The audience began to murmur and she heard a few inquiries from the front near the stage.

  She whispered, “Oh, no...” and started to stand. Aidan squeezed her hand to keep her from moving. The lights came on, the sound returned, and Reagan’s voice boomed loud and clear. “Electricity,” he announced. “It’s so easy to take it for granted—until it’s gone, right?”

  Appreciative laughter began to resound as the audience realized this had been part of his demonstration. Janie had no idea her son had inherited her acting ability. She snuck a peek at Aidan and wondered if she looked as proud as he did. Her attention quickly returned to Reagan as he continued to speak.

  “Many people believe Benjamin Franklin invented electricity when he proved with a kite, a key and a storm that lightning is essentially electricity. An important discovery, yes, and Franklin went on to experiment with electricity in other impressive ways along with Nikola Tesla, Thomas Edison and other great scientists throughout the world. But human beings have been aware of the existence of electrical charges since at least 600 BC, when the ancient Greeks experimented with what we now know as static electricity. And the Romans...” Reagan went on to condense thousands of years of history, touching on some of the high points and revelations. “In the year 1800, an Italian physicist by the name of Alessandro Volta is credited with creating the first electric battery he called a voltaic pile...” Reagan briefly outlined Volta’s method and the improvements to batteries since that time.

  “Now, in my demonstration I’m going to show the power of electricity using a common twelve-volt battery.” He pointed at a shelf under the table. “This is a battery I borrowed from my uncle’s pickup. I will explain as the demonstration proceeds the use of transformers, reducers, inverters and switches...” He continued his narration.

  The display table had been partitioned into four parts, while a large round metal ball sitting on a pedestal—resembling a large shiny mushroom—stood alone on the far right side. Reagan flipped a switch and the first section came to life; lights flashed on an electric train as it began to roll along the tracks in a figure-eight pattern. The train’s whistle sounded a loud tweet as it ended its journey by smoothly disappearing under the slightly raised platform under the second section.

  A miniature shiny blue pickup, complete with working headlights and taillights, took up the journey from here, winding its way up an elevated, lighted incline. The pickup’s horn sounded as it nosed against the wall of section three, where a connection was made to an intricate machine constructed of chains and gears. A loud rhythmic click began as a long arm descended and lifted a metal ball out of the back of the pickup. It rose, swiveled and carried the ball up to the top of the fourth section.

  Here an elaborate set of elevated tracks had been constructed to resemble a roller-coaster thrill ride. The arm gently dropped the ball into a roller-coaster car, which began a zigzag ride down the tracks, setting off a series of flashing lights along the way.

  When the car reached the bottom, it triggered a switch for the grand finale. An audible hum from an electric motor began to whir. As Reagan explained static electricity he picked up a Barbie and placed the doll on top of the ball. Slowly the doll’s hair floated up to form a golden halo around her head. Reagan reached out and laid his hand on the ball. A collective gasp went through the audience as the static electricity caused Reagan’s hair to stand on end as well.

  The crowd went wild. He received the only standing ovation of the day. Reagan looked elated. Janie was ecstatic, too, but for a different reason. Reagan seemed like a different kid—no, not a different kid, a more mature version of himself. He was still confident yet he showed the funny and downright charming kid he could also be.

  There was a short intermission before the awards ceremony. The generous and always gracious VFW crew served homemade cookies along with coffee, tea and soft drinks. The crowd was abuzz with talk of the children’s hard work and phenomenal efforts. Many people congratulated her, and Reagan beamed as he was bombarded with congratulations, questions and comments.

  A short while later, when they announced Reagan’s name as the middle school champion, she turned and smiled at Aidan. He enfolded her in his arms and she wanted to cry—in a good way. She would have never doubted Reagan’s ability to win the competition, but it was the way he won that filled her soul with joy.

  Aidan had managed to make such a significant difference in both boys’ lives in only a couple of months.

  Later, she watched as Aidan and Gareth joked around about something and she realized that her older son was improving, too. Because really, the incident at school had turned out to be a positive one—not the fact that Gareth had yet to face punishment, but his overall intentions behind the letters.

  He seemed to be tackling his issues and she couldn’t help but think that the fearless way Aidan lived his life had something to do with it.

  * * *

  GARETH HOWEVER DID not quite share his mom�
�s level of enthusiasm. He was extremely proud of his brother, of course. But as he watched Reagan wooing the crowd, the teachers, parents and judges, all the while he knew Reagan was screwed, which meant he was, too.

  Harmon had warned him not to win this competition. And for whatever reason, Harmon seemed even crazier these days than he normally was. Gareth knew Harmon’s dad was really critical of him and put a lot of pressure on him to be the best at football, to be the fastest, the smartest, and for some reason he had hammered him about this science-project thing. In turn Harmon’s solution had been to threaten Reagan.

  To Gareth, Harmon had lost five hundred dollars’ worth of prize money and the prestige of winning the science expo. Gareth felt certain Harmon would interpret this as being humiliated in front of the entire school. He wasn’t sure if he could protect Reagan this time, but he would try.

  In spite of this, he was so freaking proud of his little brother. When the winner had been announced, he’d stood and clapped with the rest of the crowd, and whistled louder than he ever had in his life.

  * * *

  JANIE WAS HAVING another bad mom moment. Should she be leaving town when she wasn’t sure what was going to happen with Gareth? She had explained the situation to Principal Dundee and since Gareth was a good kid and had never had any behavioral issues, he seemed reluctant to pursue the situation. Although, he’d told her that the police were still investigating and he wasn’t sure what the outcome of their inquiry would be.

  But ultimately they were only letters—how serious could things get?

  Shay was her best friend, she was Shay’s maid of honor and Emily had gone to a lot of trouble to set them up in luxury accommodations at one of the swankiest hotels and spas in Alaska for Shay’s bridal-shower weekend. Plus, she wasn’t going to lie, a weekend away with her best friends sounded like a dream.

  “What do you think, Mom?” she asked Claire.

  “I don’t understand why you’re even hesitating, Janie. We will be fine—the boys love staying with me. We have plans to make popcorn on the stovetop the old-fashioned way and watch movies tomorrow night. I’m going to bake a pie to celebrate Reagan’s victory. Your Aunt Margaret and I are taking Violet and the twins to toddler swim on Saturday while Aidan takes Gareth and Reagan bee hunting, after which they are all playing basketball at Bering’s. See? All kinds of plans—none of which require your participation.”

  Janie said dryly, “Gee thanks, Mom. That makes me feel way better.”

  Claire smiled. “Janie, you haven’t spent a night away from your children for two years—not since you went with Bering to fetch Emily off of the cruise ship. And I wouldn’t exactly call that a vacation. You’re due and I’m excited for you—for all of you girls. You all work so hard.”

  Claire scooped up Finn and twirled with him in her arms. He squealed and giggled and Janie decided that her mom’s speech had made her feel better. And in that moment she felt sure a weekend getaway was exactly what she needed. Tomorrow was the last day of school for Gareth and Reagan. The last day was always easy and Reagan would have a great time enjoying his science expo win. Gareth would be happy simply because it was the start of summer vacation. Her mom could pick the boys up from school and the fun would commence for all of them.

  * * *

  GARETH SHOULD HAVE predicted that Harmon would come for Reagan sooner rather than later. Their mom had left that morning so Grandma would be picking them up from school. Gareth had told Reagan to meet him in the locker room so he could get everything out of his gym locker, including the basketball he kept there.

  Harmon and Riley came through the door as Gareth was stuffing the basketball in his duffel bag. Uncharacteristically, Harmon didn’t say a word. He looked at Riley. Riley turned and shoved a broomstick through the handles on the doors so they couldn’t be opened.

  Gareth knew in that moment that he was going to have to fight them both, and it wouldn’t be pretty. And because of the “investigation” Harmon’s dad had started, his punishment would probably be so much worse.

  Reagan stared straight ahead, not making eye contact. Gareth could see his little brother shutting down and felt a blast of disappointment course through him. Gareth tried to put aside his dismay and mentally prepare himself for battle.

  “So, we’re going to do some eating today, Little Everett. Because I warned you. I told you—you would regret it if you came to the science expo and showed off like you do. But you didn’t listen, did you? That five hundred dollars should be mine and you’re going to give it to me. But first...”

  Harmon took something out of his pocket. He peeled open a foil-wrapped bundle to reveal what appeared to be a wad of gray, red and purplish slimed-over fur. It looked like a chewed-up mouse. It smelled dead and rotten. Gareth nearly gagged.

  “My dog puked this up yesterday. I thought it would be the perfect thing for you to take a bite of, Mr. Brainiac Show-off.”

  Gareth made a face. He knew Harmon was crazy, but this seemed over-the-top even for him. “You’re sick, Vetcher. Come on, Reagan, let’s go.”

  Suddenly Harmon’s hand shot out and grabbed Reagan by the back of the head, holding him tight by his hair. Harmon kicked his legs and Reagan went down on his knees.

  “Let him go, Vetcher, you sick freak.”

  Harmon yanked on Reagan’s hair. “Open your mouth, you wimpy little nerd.”

  Red-hot anger burst into flames inside of Gareth and he suddenly didn’t care if he ended up in jail or wherever, because he was going to stop Harmon once and for all. He knew Riley would be on him as soon as he moved, so he was going to have to be fast.

  But before he could even execute a move, Reagan somehow escaped and was standing in front of Harmon bouncing on the balls of his feet like Aidan had showed them.

  “You little worm, that hurt.” Harmon rubbed one arm before attempting to grab Reagan again.

  Reagan sidestepped to his left. “Let us go, Harmon.”

  Harmon charged but Reagan easily dodged him again and repeated, “Let us go, Harmon.”

  “Not a chance, maggot.” Harmon rushed Reagan, swinging a wild right-handed punch.

  Reagan stepped inside and punched Harmon hard in the jaw. Harmon stumbled back a few steps and muttered, “What the h— I’m going to mess you up now, Everett.”

  Harmon came at Reagan again, and Reagan punched him—three times, fast, a jab to the cheek followed by an uppercut to the jaw, and then a blow to Harmon’s gut. And that was it. Harmon let out a wheeze and fell to his knees. He tried to suck in a breath and Gareth knew Reagan had hit him square in the solar plexus, exactly like Aidan had taught them.

  “Are we done here, Harmon? Are you finished?” Reagan’s voice sounded eerily calm and Gareth would be scared himself if Reagan wasn’t his brother. Riley looked terrified.

  Harmon brought one foot up under his knee like he was going to lunge at Reagan. “You are dead meat—you know that?”

  Reagan shook his head. “Nope. No, I’m not. You’re not going to touch me and from now on you’re going to leave me alone. In fact, you’re never going to touch or speak to me, or Gareth, or Elena ever again. You got that? Now, you better repeat it so I know you understand.”

  “You little psycho. You can’t tell me—”

  As Harmon lunged, Reagan punched him again, the blow landing solidly on his jaw. Harmon slumped sideways on his heels, losing his balance and grazing his forehead on the corner of the cement wall beside him as he went down.

  “I can tell you whatever I want and the difference between you and me is that I can and will back it up. Now, say it.”

  Harmon pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned back against the wall. Blood leaked from a cut above his eye where he’d hit his head.

  “You’ve got three seconds to say it, Harmon.”

  Harmon turned his he
ad and spit. “Say what?”

  “Tell me you understand.”

  “I don’t—”

  Reagan stepped forward, bringing his fists up again in his perfect flyweight stance. Gareth almost laughed, a combination of pride and relief and happiness coursing through him.

  Harmon flinched, tripping over the words as he tried to get them out. “No, no. Fine, fine, I got it. I will leave you alone—and Gareth and Elena.”

  Reagan nodded once before turning to Riley. “Are you next, Shriver, or do you want to open those doors for us?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ON SATURDAY AT approximately seven in the morning, Aidan was getting his equipment together for a day in the field. Aidan had enjoyed his visit with Kyle Wesley, although he was relieved he and his group had departed. Aidan couldn’t imagine being surrounded by that many people all the time. He’d had enough of socializing to last him a while. Blake thought things had gone well and Meredith seemed satisfied with Aidan’s participation.

  This morning, he’d planned breakfast with Bering, Gareth and Reagan at the Cozy Caribou, and afterward they were all going out to look for bees. Bering had taken the weekend off to watch Violet so Emily, Janie, Shay and the rest of the bachelorette party could spend the weekend at the spa. Claire was taking Violet swimming so Bering offered to show Aidan a couple high meadows that had recently come into bloom with wildflowers.

  Aidan picked up some clothing that Blake had left scattered around the place and threw the items on top of his suitcase, which lay open in one corner. He’d only been here a week but had already left his mark. As soon as Wesley had departed, he and Meredith had headed to Glacier City to do an interview via satellite. Aidan had to admit that Meredith seemed to be earning her paycheck.

  Aidan hadn’t been surprised when Blake had called to let him know they had decided to stay the weekend in Glacier City and return to Rankins on Sunday.

  A knock sounded at the door and Aidan assumed it would be Bering. He opened the door and was surprised to find two police officers standing in front of him. Aidan recognized the ruddy-skinned, beefy face of Marv Vetcher and immediately felt defensive.