Don't Poke the Bear!

Chapter 14

BY THE TIME we get there, and by "there" I mean a hundred feet away-Rudy's covered in honey and bee larvae, and cryin' from bein' stung by the swarm of bees around his face.

"Why doesn't he run away?" Gentry says.

"Once a bear gets started on a hive, he won't quit no matter how bad he gets stung. He'll eat the live bees, the larvae, the honey, the honey comb-he can't help himself."

I look at Gentry and see she's really concerned.

"He'll be okay," I say. "His fur's thick enough to protect him from most of it. His eyes and nose'll swell, and he'll be sore and cranky tonight. But believe me, he's as happy as a kid with a new toy."

"He can't stop?"

"It's sort of like how he has to make them dancin' movements when music is played. Only this time nature's makin' him do it, 'stead a' men."

"But he gets something out of it," Gentry says.

"He does. Accordin' to Rose, honey has all kinds of medicine in it. It'll help Rudy get stronger, and probably help him fight against getting' his nose infected from the operation."

"If the bees don't hurt him worse."

"He'll be okay."

By the time Rudy's done eatin', he's a sticky, nasty mess. We want to lead him to the river, but he's havin' none of it. He lies down to take a nap. No matter how hard we try to coax him, there's nothin' left to do but sit there all afternoon with him, till he's finally ready to get some water. By then it's dusk, and the river's too far in the opposite direction.

"I don't know how you're going to get him clean tonight," Gentry says, "but he can't come in the house like this."

"Me?"

"You're the one who knows all about bears and honey."

I sigh.

An hour later, me and Wing Ding decide the best way to clean Rudy is to rub dirt all over him, then take a wet cloth and try to scrub the honey and dirt out at the same time. Of course, the bee stings have him all swollen up, and he's cranky.

It takes us two hours and requires three separate inspections from Gentry before she'll let him back inside, but Wing is happy for the work, since it's income he weren't expectin'. I find Wing so agreeable and helpful I decide to offer him a full-time job on the spot. As I stumble around with my words, tryin' to explain what I'm offerin', he startles me by saying, "I happy work for you. One dollar day. Start eight. Stop eight. One hour lunch. No windows. Okay?"

I stare at him.

"All this time you could speak English?"

He shrugs.

I frown. "What do you mean, no windows?"

He says, "I kidding about windows. Start tomorrow?"

I nod, still bewildered about his ability to speak.

"One more thing," he says. "Food terrible. I cook lunch and supper for all."

"I agree our whores ain't suited to cookery," I say. "I'll be glad to give you a shot at it."