The Draftsman

By Laurel Lindström

A brilliant but damaged man – this is the story of his genius, his healing and a forgotten mystery

Monday, 8 July 2019

By way of a thank you to the people who have supported the Draftsman, here is something silly to enjoy.

The first in a multipart series: Three Bees

Burly, Curly & Twirly

“It tastes like crap this wax. And just because they told me I have to eat my way out, doesn’t mean I have to.” An oversized drone honey bee spat out some half chewed wax, smearing it against the wall of his cell as he did so. He paused a moment, peering through the tiny hole in the hatch at the mass of bees crawling back and forth. Within his dim view he could see that there were also loads with half their bodies deep in the honeycomb cells. He harrumphed as well as a bee could managed, and shifted his copious weight against the six tight walls of his cell, contemplating how to get out without having to chew at the wax which clogged up his mouth parts and left what he was certain were unsightly crumbs on his gleaming mandibles. After a few moments he had it.

With a few heavy shoves at the hatch with his big head, the burly drone heaved his way out of his too tight cell and was born. He paused a moment at the edge of the cell, letting his outer skin harden and his body become accustomed to the warmth and the space. All around him a mass of bees, all of them female and all of them muttering instructions and comments, none of which were addressed to him and none of which he could properly hear. His first thought was food, more food, and nicer food than the measly dribs and drabs they’d left him when they sealed him inside his cell to grow from grub into drone. On second thoughts, maybe it was measly in amount but it had actually been quite tasty especially in the beginning, a nummy mix of honey and royal jelly. But that ran out pretty quick and what they gave him later just wasn’t the same and now here he was fully of heft and hunger.

Beside him he heard a slightly gruffer mumbling, distinct from the wider hum all around him. First checking that his chest fluff was straight and his wings fully dry, he turned to see another drone bee forcing his way out of his cell. But this bee was coming out backwards, his abdomen almost folded to his chest as he struggled to exit the tight space. Burly bee sidled over, preening his wings, giving them a little flutter, and looking over his shiny shoulder to see if any of the girls had noticed just how sleek and magnificent he was. They hadn’t. “What’s wrong with forwards?” he said to the slowly uncurling new arrival whose unfolding needed to be sharpish if he was to dry bee shaped and not curly shaped. “There’s nothing wrong, just a bit of a wardrobe malfunction a few days ago. I got squished by some nutter human scraping at the cells. Pushed me around and the girls thought I was a goner so they left me. And I finished growing alright, except that I was crooked. It’s taken longer than it should, and I’m much too small but here I am. Thankfully I didn’t dry too fast. Curly waggled his antennae and set off in the direction of what he thought might be somewhere to go. Burly followed on and soon passed him by with an unintended shove. “Oy watch it would you”, Curly hissed before he noticed the Queen ambling past with her retinue in train. “Is that her? Is that Mother?” he whispered, watching as Burly preened his massive eyes and straightened the slightly mussed fluff on his side. “Don’t even think about it Curl, she’s only interested in one thing, and it certainly won’t involve you.” Curly looked confused and was distracted by the frantic flaking at the hatch of a nearby drone cell. Like Burly and Curly, instead of eating its way out, this drone was taking a completely different approach to being born. He appeared to be kicking his way, but bees aren’t really made for kicking. Curly called to Burly and together they watched the new drone arrive, twisting round and round, round and round, antennae outstretched mouthparts chomping away at the wax but mostly missing. Panting, his antennae drooping and his head low the drone finally pulled himself out of the cell, landing on his back, staring up at his tiny audience. As they looked from one to the other and then all around them they realised that this little group of three were the only drones born in those few minutes and they breathed in each another’s special drone smell knowing that this scent would always bring them home. Together they moved across the comb, Burly pushing his way ahead and the others following, comparing notes on the diet the nursing bees had offered, commenting on the abundance of pretty ladies bustling around them. They moved towards the Queen who was trailing slowly along looking for new empty cells in which to lay some eggs. 

A buffer of worker bees was suddenly blocking their way. “What’s this?” Burly pulled himself up to his full 1.3cm and stared out with what he hoped was might masculinity, antenna flicking, massive eyes gleaming with what he was sure was menace. It wasn’t. The buffer of ladies as one murmured, “stay back, don’t move any further”, and one of them came forward and offered each of the boys a drink of water, mouthparts to mouthparts. They drank with relish and relief and by the time their lips were thoroughly smacked and their little bellies thoroughly filled, the queen, her retinue and the bee buffer had moved on. It was clearly time for a nap but no one knew quite how this worked now that they were out of their cells. “So what happens next?” Twirly asked, yawning and leaning slowly into a small undulation of softly fragrant honeycomb. His huge eyes were slowly loosing focus and he could see only umbrous shadows. “Well”, said Burly, “we’ll have a rest and then start looking for the exit. We need to get out of here, but I can’t quite remember why”. “It’s the princesses, that’s what it is, the princesses” Twirly added helpfully before drifting off to sleep while Burly and Curly made yum yum noises, as they snuggled deep into the softly crushed hexacombs… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

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