Friday's Flash Fiction - The Prettiest Flower in the Field 5.13.22

    You would've thought maybe since it's Friday the 13th today that this would be a spooky tale? Guess again, this one is actually pretty wholesome. This week was a fantastic week with the sun shining and all that good stuff. It really brought me to my happy place and I thought about if I was a father. What would I look forward to? The small moments of innocence and imagination running amok. Normally that title would've been ironic as hell, but this time, nope. Just a wholesome tale of a girl, her dad, and a bee. Enjoy! 

The Prettiest Flower in the Field 

Out in the backyard, the little one explores every shrub, bush, and every flower that could be the prime location for her castle. Or space station. Or underwater hideaway, I don’t recall on that specific day. 

She took three laps around the whole yard when she sat down in front of a patch of dandelions. She made it a point to smell every single one, JUST to know which one was the absolute, ‘bestest’ best one. I retreated to the porch by this time. Shade was needed after spending a good hour or so building castles in the sandpit we had. 

I couldn’t keep up 100% like I used to. 

My spirit was good, but the body was broken. Particularly when I had to couch down and all fifty-thousand bones in my knees crackled like a demolition. I could still be my little one’s number-one fan by cheering on the sidelines. In the shade. Chugging the biggest glass of water. 

I looked on when she got up from crouching down on the flower bed so suddenly. She seemed spooked by something and started swatting the air aimlessly. 

“You okay?” I asked as I put the glass down. This was going to be an event. I just knew. 

“BEES, DADDY. THEY’RE EVERYWHERE. HELP! HELP!” She exclaimed. I started hustling up to the flower bed. 

As I got there, there was just a single bee buzzing around her. Curious, but not blood-thirsty. But from her point of view? Total stinger at the ready to kill. Oh yeah, millions of bees everywhere. WITH guns and a score to settle. They were everywhere, you know. And I had to get her out of there. 

She saw me and raised her hands up. I humored her. That wasn’t the time to reason with a terrified kid. She just wanted inside away from the bee. So I scooped her up and ran for the door. As I ran, one thought came to mind as I passed the flowers, the scrubs, the bushes: 

This bond I’ve planted here blossoms beautifully. All the flowers in the field upon fields cannot measure up to it. 

I picked my own pretty flower once. It's screaming still of the bee chasing in hot pursuit. This little bee really, really wanted to sting this little girl, or just wanted the prettiest flower in the field. I closed the door in the bees face, having no victims stung so viciously. Then we had a laugh. Victory was ours that day. This'll be a great memory, I'm sure. 

I’m in my older years now. She’s not afraid of bees like she used to be. She learnt about the importance of bees have to pollination, improving the crop fields, yadda yadda. Save the bees, y’know. Heard she was investing some honey-sweet time into making her own hives as a beekeeper. “Just a little hobby,” she hammers down. I don’t need convincing. Thought she’d stick with the castle, or space station, or underwater hideaway. But having a little beekeeper around is pretty cool, too. As long as that enthusiasm, nor her sunny disposition, is never plucked from her. 

The summer doesn't last too long, but scenes like that certainly do. Beautifully does this bond I’ve planted blossom.