“Also, I’m going to need those beekeeper suits ba— And they’re gone.”
A lone bee landed on Burt’s mesh face mask. “Bzzz?”
“The three mares that were right here not five minutes ago? Oh well, at least they left my two spare beekeeper suits.”
He poked at one of the suits with a hoof and then regretted it immediately.
“And they’re slathered in honey. Great. Excellent. I was wonderin’ how they coaxed the bees all the way to Sweet Apple Acres.”
“Bzzz.”
“No, it’s okay. I love cleanin’ up after trespassers and honey thieves. I love it.”
“Bzzz?”
“I was bein’ sarcastic.”
“... Bzzz.”
Burt ended the conversation with a tap of his hoof, brushing the little fella off of his mask. He sighed and flipped off his hood with a shrug, revealing the true brown of his fur and the chocolate colored curls of his mane. He picked up the two soiled suits with his teeth and started off down the dirt road to his Apiary.
It only took him a few minutes to reach his thirty acres of land down the old country road. There was no fence around his land seeing as bees didn’t care much for fences anyway, what with the whole flying thing. But he knew he was on his Apiary when he passed the small strawberry field on the eastern edge of his plot.
Burt looked around and smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was his.
The as-of-yet unnamed farm only had a few structures. There was his cottage, two whitewashed barns, and a well. The two barns were fairly small, but they were perfect for his needs. The one that he called the shed was where he kept his cart and his tools. The other didn’t have a name other than barn, but that was where the magic happened.
Well, it wasn’t really magic. It was just honey, beeswax, and the like. But it felt like magic to Burt. Being an Apiarist was his joy. It was in his blood. He was born to be a beekeeper, just like his Pa and Grandpa before him. So long as he could do his job, he’d be happy.
He just wished that he could have saved the old farm in Fillydelphia.
Nopony expected the parasprite infestation that obliterated the city’s local agricultural belt. Heck, nopony even knew what a parasprite was until they showed up en masse that fateful day over a year ago. Sadly, the Bees family farm was one of those lost in the carnage.
So after a lengthy stay in paperwork purgatory, Burt finally moved to Ponyville. He bought his new farm outright with the insurance money along with the adjacent plot of land to bring him up to thirty acres. Most of it was for his bees, but the rest was for some much needed home-grown goodies.
A few acres dedicated to growing some of his old hometown favorites; spinach, corn, and of course, some Sunberry Orchard Strawberries. They were the finest, melt-in-your-mouth strawberries anypony ever did eat. It was the little tastes of home that kept him grounded so far from Fillydelphia.
The rest of his thirty acres was allowed to run wild, which was ideal since they were sallow when he bought them. So with just a bit of regular watering, some earthpony know how, and his bees, these once dead fields were full of wild flowers and his hives were full of honey.
He walked into his cottage through the kitchen door and passed through to the bathroom. Burt spit out his two spare suits into the shower and turned on the hot water. Ten minutes in there should get most of the honey out. If not, he’d have to have them professionally cleaned. Just another errand to add to his list today.
Heading back to his kitchen, he was stopped by a sudden knock at the front door.
“Who is it?” he asked as he turned around to face the whitewashed door.
A familiar voice answered back, “It’s Cheerilee.”
Burt opened the door and greeted his nearest non-Apple neighbor. “Hay, Cheerilee, how are—“ he paused and turned to look at the clock above his dusty mantle “Wait, shouldn’t you be teaching school right about now?”
The pretty mare smiled softly back at him. “Hi Burt. I’m not teaching today.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the kids are all out on summer vacation for another month,” she giggled.
“Oh. Right. I knew that,” he replied sheepishly. “So what brings you over to my neck of the woods?”
“Remember that incident last week with all those awful vines from the Everfree Forest?”
Burt suppressed a shiver but nodded and Cheerilee continued.
“This morning I finally finished cleaning up the mess they made of my garden, and I found the hive you gave me. Well, what was left of it anyway.”
Burt winced, “That bad, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” offered Cheerilee, looking down at her hooves.
“How are the bees taking it? You weren’t stung, were you?”
Cheerilee looked off into the corner and rubbed her chin in thought. “You know, now that you mention it, I didn’t see any bees.”
Burt smiled at her. “Well then I’m sure they just flew off when the vines startled them.”
He turned away from the front door and headed back towards his small bedroom. “Give me a minute to change out of my gear and we’ll head over so I can check out the damage firsthoof. If I can fix it for you, the bees’ll come back to pollinate your garden in no time.”
“Aw, thanks Burt!”
He stuck his head out of the bedroom door and smiled at her, “Hay, what are neighbors for?”
“Here we are!” said Cheerilee.
Burt unhitched himself from his cart and followed the chipper mare through the gate of the white picket fence that lined her property. He could tell that she did as well as could be expected getting cleaning up after those blasted Everfree vines.
Her house was pristine, short of the two windows on the far side that had she draped with towels. Little bits of broken glass sat in a nearby garbage bucket. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what happened there.
Burt stopped in his tracks as they turned the outside corner of her house and he saw the devastation of her garden. Most of her flowers were flattened, her bird feeder was a pile of rubble, and those bent wind chimes would never chime again.
“Wow,” he said with his ears pinned back sympathetically.
“Yeah,” she answered, wiping a hint of a tear from her eyes.
He turned to look at her. “So, uh...”
She smiled at him weakly, and pointed over towards a pile of whitewashed wood. Burt nodded and walked over to where the beehive he lent her used to stand. From here it resembled an upturned chair. The damage to the both legs and their supports was clearly visible.
He popped two latches on the base, and pulled the beehive off of its damaged stand. He set it on the ground and opened the top. To the casual observer, his beehives looked indistinguishable from any random beehive. But to a fellow apiarist, it was a work of genius.
First of all it was unusual for an earthpony to raise bees. It was one of the few farming jobs that unicorns were uniquely suited to, what with their fancy magic to calm bees and ability to teleport honey out of hives. He didn’t have none of that. All he had was good old fashioned ingenuity.
He pulled out each of the ten frames in the box and inspected them for damage. This was one of his newest hives, so the wax starters barely had any honeycomb built onto them in the upper corners. What few workers there were in the hive seemed to have survived, and were still taking care of the queen. The rest of them must have flown off when the vines struck.
He stood back up and whistled loudly. Cheerilee cocked her head at that and was about to ask him what the whistle was for, but the air was filled with buzzing before she got the chance. Hundreds of happy bees poured out of the closest edge of the Everfree Forest a dozen yards away.
Cheerilee stood there at a loss of words, as the brown stallion mingled and chatted with the jolly bumblers. Before long the bees began to swarm the beehive box sitting on the ground, and they filed in ten or twenty at a time. The hive was back, and there was much work to be done. Burt turned and trotted back over to Cheerilee’s side.
“I’ve never seen anypony call bees before.”
“It’s a trick my grandpa taught me,” he said smiling. “Well... Looks like the beehive itself is undamaged, but the stand needs a few repairs. I’ll have to get some wood from the general store, but I should have it fixed today.”
The school teacher tittered softly as she walked side by side with her stallion neighbor back around the front of the house. “Fantastic! Thanks so much for your help, Burt.”
“Twern’t nothin’,” he said as he hitched himself up to his cart. “I’ll swing on by again after I finish my errands in town.”
She smiled and waved from her gate as Burt set off towards town at his usual trot.
“Okay, let’s see here... Delivery, pick up, pick up, delivery, wood.” Burt nodded to himself and put his checklist back in his cart. Carrying on down the road, he broke out into a whistle. The first stop of the day was his favorite.
It was close to noon, a bit later in the day than he usually started his rounds, but it couldn’t be helped what with those mares who took his bees and his...
“Shoot,” he said to nopony in particular as he realized he left the hot water running back at his cottage. Oh well, no point in turning around now. Those suits had better be clean by the time he gets home.
He refocused his attention on the dirt road into the Ponyville Market, taking care to navigate around the other carts, stalls, and folks from all over town that were out and about for errands of their own. There was Big Mac, the only other stallion that lived within a mile of his Apiary. Looks like today was his day for working the Sweet Apple Acres stall. They waved their silent hellos as Burt carried on his way to Sugarcube Corner.
Coming to a halt outside the bakery, he unhitched himself from the cart and pulled out the basket with this week’s order. The little bell rang when Burt walked in the door, but the place was so crowded from the lunch rush that even he didn’t hear it.
“Hay, Burt!” called Carrot Cake from behind the counter next to his wife, “Meet me around the back, I’ll be right out.”
Burt nodded, walked back out the door and around the corner. He hardly had time to set down the basket before Carrot trotted out of the back of Sugarcube Corner.
“Busy one today, Carrot?” Burt asked as they shook hooves.
The orange stallion shook his head, “Not particularly. We’re just down one Pinkie Pie today, she’s off testing the school bell with Cheerilee.”
“Huh,” Burt said, blinking away his confusion. He’d just seen both mares earlier today, but... nah, it probably wasn’t important.
“So, what do you have for us today, Burt?”
“Some of the usual, two quarts of wildflower honey and a dozen beeswax candles. I also brought along that quart of apple blossom honey that you said you wanted.”
“Great! Here’s the payment, forty bits as usual. You know Cup Cake and I were just talking last night about how nice it is to finally have our own beekeeper here in Ponyville. The imported stuff was just too darn expensive. Not to mention the taste! Your honey has to be the best around, bar none.”
Burt beamed with pride at his friend. “Shoot, Carrot, I’m right proud to hear you say so. But the taste shouldn’t come as no surprise. It’s all about knowing your bees and the plants they pollinate. Plus you gotta get the honey at just the right time. I’m sure it’s no harder than making those tasty muffins of yours.”
Carrot Cake laughed. “Ha, you got me there, Burt. I guess we’re all just good at what we’re good at. Hay, speaking of muffins, want one for the road?”
“I’d be crazy to turn down a free muffin, thanks.” He said grinning broadly. Carrot Cake hoofed over a muffin in a bag and the two stallions walked back around front to Burt’s cart.
“So, you’ve been here for a few months now, what do you think of Ponyville.”
Burt smiled. “It’s no Fillydelphia, but it’s growing on me.” He hitched himself back up and shook the other stallions hoof again.
“Give my love to the family, won’t you, Carrot?”
“You got it Burt, see you next week!” said the baker as he waved once and then walked back into Sugarcube Corner.
The brown stallion smiled back as he turned to head down the street. But while he walked off in silence, a frown settled on his features. Next was a pick up. But not just any pickup, it was Daisy’s. And it was the pickup he’d been dreading all week.
When he got to the mare’s gate he rang the bell and stood there, not daring to take a single step beyond the threshold.
The top half of her door swung open, and Daisy eased up onto the divider, resting the crook of her left foreleg on the door. Her fur was wet and her mane was wrapped up in a towel on the top of her head.
“Hello Burt,” she purred, eyes batting as best they could.
“Afternoon Ms. Daisy,” he said as stoically as possible.
“Are you here to... pollinate?”
Burt squeezed his eyes closed. “No. No ma’am I am not. I’m just here to do my weekly pick up service.”
“Oh,” said Daisy, shifting to lean against the door with both forelegs. She bared her teeth in a predatory smile. “You’re here for my honey, are you?”
“Technically it’s my honey, ma’am.”
“Well then,” she said, opening the rest of her door. “Come and get it.”
He snorted. “Actually, I-I’ll be back later today, if it’s all the same to you.”
Daisy pouted and ran for the front gate, but Burt was already down the road before she could grab him.
“Ooooh. Drat. Mark my words, Beekeeper! This queen needs honey and she’s going to get it, do you hear me?! SHE’S GOING TO GET IT!”
“She didn’t.”
“She did,” said Burt, sipping at his cup of tea.
Rose laughed and shook her head. “That mare’s gone coltcrazy.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that ma’am. I’m just out to check on my hives, gather honey, and make sure my customers are happy.”
Rose smiled back at him and gave his hoof a gentle pat. “Well I know that I’m happy, Burt. Your bees have done wonders for my business. The other day Lily asked what my secret was to such tasty roses, and I just had to tell her all about your bees. And...”
Burt smiled. Maybe Ponyville wasn’t so bad. Sure the mares here couldn’t hold a candle to the ones back home in Fillydelphia, but it had a certain... quaint charm to it.
“... so don’t be surprised when she comes a calling for a hive of her own.”
“That’s right neighborly of you, Rose. I’ll be sure to throw you a refere—“
The back door into the kitchen burst open and Daisy, wearing what appeared to be most of a flower costume, bounded into the room.
“Buzz, buzz! Where’s the bee?! This Daisy needs... Where did he go?”
Rose sat there at her kitchen table and took another sip of her tea while pointing out the door to the hallway. Both mares winced as they heard the screen door in the front of the house slam shut in his frantic run out of Rose’s bungalow.
Daisy wilted. “Did I come on a little too strong?”
Rose reached over and patted her deranged friend on the shoulder. “Maybe just a little.”
Burt was feeling more than a little frazzled as he walked down the dirt road back towards home. That Daisy was going to be the death of him. Luckily his last delivery was at the general store, so he was able to pick up the wood he needed to fix the hive in Cheerilee’s garden. Once that was done, he’d be able to head home for the rest of the evening. Maybe catch up on his reading.
“Hay, Burt!” called out a voice from behind him.
He stopped his cart and turned to look over his shoulder. It was the schoolteacher he was on his way to see. She was looking a little worse for the wear herself though.
“Afternoon, Cheerilee. You look terrible, what happened?”
She laughed at his blunt assessment. “Thanks Burt, you don’t look so hot yourself. Pinkie Pie happened.”
Burt snorted. “Carrot Cake told me she was heading your way. Something about testing a bell.”
Cheerilee shook her frayed mane and laughed a hollow laugh. “Oh she tested it out alright. What happened to you?”
“Daisy.”
“Again?”
He shivered, “This time she was wearing a flower costume.”
Cheerilee stifled her laughter as best she could, but she was failing at it miserably, what with her face all scrunched up.
“Oh. Oh you don’t say?” was all she could manage without cracking up..
“I do say. Anyway, I got everything I needed to fix the legs on your beehive. Shall we?”
Cheerilee got her laughter back under control and nodded, matching the stallions pace as they moved down the road together.
“It’s awfully nice of you to fix this for me.”
“Well I can’t collect honey from a broken hive, can I?”
“No, I suppose you can’t. Still, I feel like I owe you something to make it even. How about I whip us up a late lunch?”
Burt smiled at his pretty neighbor. “Deal.”
