Bee the Change

by James Preller

  Contents

  * * *

  Title Page

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Top Secret!

  Ozzie

  A Meeting with the Queen

  Slug Man

  Inspired

  The Beginning of an Idea

  The Return of Otis Smick

  Bee the Change

  Busy and Buzzing

  Bee Friendly

  Seeds, Please

  Did You Know?

  Miss Zips’s “Wow Me” Tips

  Read More from the Big Idea Gang Series

  About the Author

  Connect with HMH on Social Media

  Text copyright © 2019 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company

  Illustrations copyright © 2019 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company

  All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to trade.permissions@hmhco.com or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.

  hmhbooks.com

  Cover illustration by Stephen Gilprin

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file.

  ISBN: 978-1-328-85770-5 hardcover

  ISBN: 978-1-328-97339-9 paperback

  eISBN 978-0-358-05603-4

  v1.0719

  For Jim Mullen, teacher, friend

  —J. P.

  — CHAPTER 1—

  Top Secret!

  Lizzy O’Malley opened the front door before Kym Park even reached the top step. “Give me a minute. I’m almost ready.”

  It was nine o’clock on a sunny Saturday morning. A good time to catch up on sleep. But not for Lizzy and Kym. They were going to meet a beekeeper.

  Kym held up a finger to her father, who was parked in the driveway. One minute, she signaled. Kym entered the living room.

  Lizzy’s twin brother, Connor, was lounging on the couch. He was awake, but barely. There was still sleep in his eyes and a bowl of dry cereal on his lap.

  “Hey, Connor,” Kym said. “Do you want to come too?”

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “My parents’ friend is a beekeeper,” Kym said. “We’re driving out to his farm for the day. I’m super excited.”

  “Bees? No, thanks,” Connor said. “I don’t like getting stung. Besides, I already have plans for today. I have a thing.”

  “A thing?”

  “Yeah, Deon and I are . . . well, it’s top secret,” Connor said, holding up a hand. “I promised Deon I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

  Kym stepped closer. “Come on, what’s the big secret?”

  “Sorry, but I’ve taken a solemn oath,” Connor explained. “There’s no way you can make me tell. Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of me. Not now, not ever.”

  Kym shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

  Lizzy hurried into the room with a backpack slung over her shoulder. “I brought a package of Oreos,” she said. “I figured we might need them. You know, in case of an emergency.”

  “Not cool!” Connor protested, tossing a pillow in Lizzy’s direction.

  “Tough cookies,” Lizzy said, grinning at her twin.

  Kym reached for the door. “Catch you next time, Connor.”

  “Okay, okay,” Connor said, rising from his seat. “If you’re going to make a big deal out of it, Kym, I’ll tell you.”

  “No, I’m good,” Kym said.

  Connor followed the two girls to the doorway. “Okay, if you absolutely have to know, Deon and I are making our own superhero comic book. It’s going to be a really big deal and we’re probably going to become millionaires, maybe zillionaires. It could even be a movie. I’m just saying. There. I told you. Happy now?”

  “You are awesome at keeping secrets,” Kym teased.

  A car horn tooted. Mr. Park wasn’t the kind of dad who liked to be kept waiting.

  “Let’s go,” Kym said to Lizzy. They climbed into the back seat. Kym’s parents sat up front.

  Connor called after them, “Remember, don’t tell anyone! It’s top secret!” Connor waved goodbye and closed the door. He didn’t understand why anybody would want to go visit a bunch of bees. It struck him as kind of weird. And possibly painful.

  The drive to the farm took the girls into the rural countryside. The suburban houses, packed tightly together like crayons in a box, gradually fell away. They first drove on a highway, then turned onto a narrow road. The land opened up. Kym noticed more trees, more space, and, strangely, more sky. Her father pointed out a hawk soaring in the wind, wings motionless. They saw silos and barns and gray stone walls. The early April day was warm and inviting. It felt to Lizzy as if the whole world was a flower raising its petals to the sun. Kym pointed out a dozen cows standing by a barbed-wire fence. The animals chewed slowly—as if lost in thought—and with round eyes watched the car drive past.

  “I love cows,” Lizzy murmured. “There’s so much emotion in their eyes.”

  “Yeah,” Kym said. She knew exactly what Lizzy meant.

  “I wonder what they think about?” Lizzy said.

  “They do seem thoughtful,” Mr. Park mused. “Philosophy, perhaps. They contemplate the meaning of life.”

  “Or cow pies,” Kym snorted.

  “We’re getting close,” Mrs. Park noted from the front seat. “It’s good to get out into the country, isn’t it?”

  “It’s beautiful,” Lizzy agreed. “Thanks for taking us.”

  “It’s actually not that far from where we live,” Mrs. Park said. “But it feels like a million miles away.”

  The car slowed and Mr. Park pointed to the left. “Look, girls—wild turkeys.”

  “Cool,” Lizzy and Kym murmured, craning their necks to see. The turkeys were dark and surprisingly large. They walked on skinny legs, pecking in the high grass.

  “Benjamin Franklin argued that the turkey should be named the official bird of the United States,” Mr. Park explained. “It lost out to the bald eagle.”

  “Good call,” Kym said.

  The car turned onto a dirt driveway.

  “Here we are, girls. The Bee’s Knees.”

  — CHAPTER 2 —

  Ozzie

  Ozzie Johnson was standing in front of a large red house when the car pulled up. He waved enthusiastically to his guests. “Greetings, Earthlings!” he called out, cackling. Ozzie scooped up a live chicken that wandered into the driveway and gently tucked it in the crook of his arm. A lively dog, black with patches of white, wove in and around Ozzie’s footsteps.

  After a quick hug with Kym’s parents, Ozzie turned to the girls. “Welcome to my little farm. The dog’s name is Yazger, and he pretty much runs the place. This lady here,” he said, referring to the chicken in his right arm, “is Lulubelle. Her eggs are the best this side of the Mississippi.” He cackled again, throwing back his head, wildly entertained.

  Ozzie wore jeans, a red-checked shirt, and a well-worn brown jacket with patches on the elbows. His skin was very dark, like smooth leather, and his hair and beard were tightly coiled and completely white. His eyes gleamed like stars in the night sky. The smile never left his face.

  “Come inside, please,” Ozzie said, flinging open the front door with an elegant bow. He pointed at Kym. “I know you are here for the bees, young lady, but first we break bread. I baked a fresh loaf this very morning. I’m sure there’s homemade raspberry jam somewhere in these cupboards. Yum, delicious.” He laughed again, touching his belly. “It’s so nice to have visitors. I can’t talk to Yazger all day long!”

  The dog, Yazger, looked up at the sound of his name. He led the way into the kitchen.

  After sweet t
ea and warm bread, Ozzie went to fetch protective outfits for the girls. Kym’s parents offered to stay behind to do the dishes. They seemed relaxed and content.

  “Let me get you ladies sorted out,” Ozzie said. He gave Lizzy and Kym hats with veils, bright-yellow jumpsuits, and thick gloves.

  “Fun,” Lizzy said. “You look great, Kym.” Lizzy felt nervous excitement ripple through her body like electricity. “What about you, Mr. Johnson?”

  Ozzie waved a hand. “Oh, those bees don’t usually bother with me. I don’t make any sudden moves.” He winked. “Just the same, I’ll throw on a hood and veil and maybe some gloves when we get close. Come on, let’s ramble.”

  They had walked about fifty yards when Ozzie pointed. “See it now? That’s a hive box. This one’s about medium-size.”

  “It almost looks like a dresser for a bedroom,” Lizzy observed.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ozzie said, nodding. “A dresser filled with bees. Are you ready to take a closer look?”

  “You bet,” Kym said.

  Lizzy, to her surprise, felt a little less sure. Between Lizzy and Kym, it was usually Lizzy who was bolder and more adventurous. But not today.

  “See that blue folding chair over there?” Ozzie pointed. “I come out here to read my mystery novels. I watch the bees come and go—get a sense of the hive’s activity—and commune with Mother Earth.”

  Ozzie chuckled over that one, eyes gleaming.

  He stepped into a tidy garden shed and emerged holding a toolbox in his left hand. In his right, Ozzie carried a round metal cylinder with a tilted cone on the top. A cloud of gray-white smoke leaked out of it. “This is the beekeeper’s friend,” Ozzie explained. “The smoke calms the bees down. Keeps ’em mellow. I bring a smoker whenever I’m going to take a look inside. We don’t want to agitate the bees.”

  “It looks like something the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz would wear on his head,” Lizzy joked.

  “That’s me, the wizard of Ozzie!” The old man grinned. He paused about twenty feet from the hive box. “Easy now,” Ozzie said in a soft voice. “Take a look from here, ladies. What do you see?”

  Kym and Lizzy noticed a number of bees moving around the hive box, arriving and departing from a narrow opening near the bottom.

  “Bees,” Kym whispered.

  “That’s a good sign,” Ozzie said. “It’s a warm spring day. A healthy hive should be busy this time of year. If you look close, you’ll see some of them are covered with orange pollen they picked up from the flowers.”

  “Oh, I see it!” Kym said.

  “Pretty cool, am I right? I don’t want you to be afraid of my bees,” Ozzie said.

  Kym nodded. “Of course.”

  “Honeybees have work to do. Flowers to visit. Nectar to gather. The queen has eggs to lay. They don’t want to sting anybody. They only do it if they feel threatened. Did you know,” Ozzie said, “that a honeybee dies after it stings? Do you think they want to die? Just leave ’em be, move slowly, and bees won’t bother you. Unfortunately, today we’re going to bother them a little bit—that’s the peril of being a beekeeper.”

  Ozzie pulled the hood over his head. He stepped forward. He directed the smoke into the area of the hive. After a few minutes, Ozzie gestured for the girls to step closer. “Now let’s have a look-see,” he said.

  Kym leaned forward.

  Lizzy stepped back.

  Ozzie lifted off the roof and inner cover. “Ah, the sweet stuff,” he murmured.

  — CHAPTER 3 —

  A Meeting with the Queen

  “It’s okay, my friends,” Ozzie said in a soothing voice. He was talking to the honeybees. “Just checking up on you all.”

  He slid out a wooden frame. With a brush, the beekeeper gently pushed aside a number of bees that were crawling on it. They flew away, unharmed. “See that, ladies? Honey, golden and delicious. Amazing, isn’t it? I’ll add an extra frame later today to make sure the bees have room to produce more.” Satisfied with his inspection, Ozzie slid the frame back into the top drawer, which he called the “honey super.”

  “Is the queen in there?” Kym asked.

  Ozzie shook his head. “We keep the queen away from the honey. We don’t want sticky eggs.” Ozzie lifted the entire top box, the honey super filled with frames, and set it on the ground.

  “Now let’s try to locate Her Majesty the Queen,” Ozzie said, his voice soft and soothing. He returned his attention to the bottom half of the hive box. Ozzie pulled out a metal screen. “See here? This is called a queen excluder. The holes are large enough for worker bees—the ones that make the honey—but too small for the queen bee to squeeze through. Below that, in here, we have the brood supers. That’s where the eggs are laid. Lot of bees in here.”

  Lizzie was relieved to see him once again blow smoke across the top of the box. It took a bit of muscle, prying with his tools, before Ozzie could lift out a frame from the brood super.

  The frame was a crawling mass of bees.

  Gross, Lizzy thought.

  “Beautiful,” Kym said. “So many!”

  Ozzie grinned from behind the veil. “There could be as many as thirty thousand bees in a single hive, sometimes more. Come closer for a look.”

  Kym stepped beside Ozzie.

  Lizzy stood planted on her tippy toes, leaning in. She didn’t want to get too close.

  “That’s larvae,” Ozzy explained.

  “I don’t understand,” Lizzy said.

  “A larva is an in-between stage in the bee’s metamorphosis,” Ozzy said, turning to look at the girls. “And before you ask, ‘metamorphosis’ is a big word that means change. First there’s the egg, then it becomes a larva. It’s immature, wormlike, no wings yet, not a bee yet.” He pointed out white bits in the honeycomb pattern. “Later they will be covered over by the workers, or capped, and the larvae will transform into bees.”

  “Cool,” Kym gushed.

  “It is pure magic on this earth,” Ozzy said. “I love it.”

  Frame by frame, Ozzie inspected the hive. “Ah, here she is,” he said, giving a little bow. “Good day, Your Majesty.” He turned to Lizzy. “It’s okay, sweetie. Trust me. Here, you can hold it.”

  Ozzie held out the frame, boiling with bees, for Lizzy to take.

  Lizzy shook her head. “No . . . I’m good,” she answered in a halting voice.

  “I’ll hold it,” Kym offered. For some reason, Kym wasn’t afraid of a thing. Perhaps she was too fascinated to feel any fear.

  Ozzie pointed. “There she is, the queen. See that little crown she wears on her head?” Ozzie laughed, winking at his guests. “The queen is bigger than the others.”

  Finished at last, Ozzie reconstructed the hive. He reinserted each frame. He carefully stacked the supers on top of each other. “Let’s go find your folks,” Ozzie said, leading the girls back to the farmhouse.

  Lizzy pondered as they walked. “Mr. Johnson, I have a question.”

  “Fire away,” he replied. “But call me Ozzie, please.”

  “Okay . . . Ozzie.” Lizzy bit her lip, not wishing to offend her host. “I mean, why bees?”

  “I love bees!” Ozzie gushed.

  “Yes, but why? I don’t get it,” Lizzy said.

  “Honeybees are important,” Ozzie said. “They are pollinators. Without honeybees, we’d have no—”

  “Honey?” Kym interjected.

  “Ha, that’s right,” Ozzie replied. “But that’s just the start. Bees have a big impact on the food chain. They are important to many different plants, fruits, and vegetables. Without honeybees, we wouldn’t have lilacs or squash, pumpkins or sunflowers. The list goes on forever. Crops like almonds, cherries, apples, oranges, alfalfa, and soybeans all depend on the work of bees. Without bees, the world would be a much poorer place. Our food and bees are interdependent.”

  “Inter-what?” Lizzy asked.

  “Dependent,” Ozzie replied. “It means they need each other to survive. In nature, eve
rything connects. Without bees acting as pollinators, many plants would die. And the bees would starve without plants!”

  “Is that why you are a beekeeper?” Lizzy wondered.

  “More or less,” Ozzie replied. “About the year 2007, many beekeepers began to notice a terrible thing—their honeybees were disappearing. Millions and millions abandoned their hives. Gone, vanished. They just flew away and never came back. They died, of course. It was a great mystery why this was happening. Scientists studied the problem and called it colony collapse disorder. In order to survive, honeybees needed our help—so I decided it was time to do something. That’s when I got my first hive. I’ve been keeping bees ever since!”

  “How many hives have you got?” Kym asked.

  “Twelve,” Ozzie said with a delighted cackle. “I’m hooked on bees, ladies. It’s like a fever. And the only cure is . . . more bees!”

  His laughter filled the meadow and filtered through the open windows of the farmhouse, where Kym’s parents patiently waited.

  They sipped honey tea.

  — CHAPTER 4 —

  Slug Man

  Meanwhile, in a secret hideout in a galaxy far, far away (well, okay, in Deon Gibson’s basement), two boys sat down with an amazing plan. Connor O’Malley and Deon Gibson decided to create the most terrific, most awesome, most really-really-super-cool superhero comic book of all time.

  They were ready to rock and roll.

  They had plenty of paper. Pens and markers. Drinks and snacks. Everything two artists could possibly need.

  Except . . .

  “We’re missing one thing,” Deon concluded.

  “Yeah, what’s that?” Connor asked. He tossed a pretzel nugget into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth. The nugget bounced off his forehead and onto the rug.