Tiny, Scary Things

I walked into my bedroom this morning to find my cat staring up at my armoire. Initially, I thought she was eyeing the diaper hanger bag that is now home to single socks waiting in limbo to see if they’ll ever be paired up with their match.

To my surprise, a giant bumble bee swarmed at me. I screamed in fear.

The bee flew toward the light and continued to bat itself against the ceiling and the light fixture in a desperate attempt to escape. It was terrified. I was terrified. The cat was completely enchanted by it all.

My mind raced with potential ways to help save this tiny, scary thing, but all of them required my getting closer to it which I did not want to do.

I ran to the window and removed the glass storm window that we install each fall, but as fresh air burst into the room, the bee immediately gasped and flew directly at me before I was able to pull the glass out. Rather than fly to the top where there was about two inches of open space through which the bee could make its way to freedom, the stupid thing battered around down by the sill.

The cat came over, and in doing so much have sent a secret alert to her sister because within seconds, both cats were plotting not only how to get the bee but also how they too could make their way out through the window.

I had to close it. With the window closed there was still hope that the bee could eventually find its way to the upper side of the glass and ease out into the world, where it belonged.

The cats and I watched as the bee struggled. I suspected perhaps it had a wounded leg as it wasn’t able to climb, and though its wings were flapping viciously, it wasn’t really flying anywhere.

Then all movement stopped.

Curled up in a ball, it sat on the wooden trim of the storm window completely motionless.

“Are you dead?” I asked.

I tried opening the window slightly to see if it would stir.

Nothing.

I eased it open again.

Nothing.

The third time, though, I could see movement in the tail. It looked like it was breathing. The legs twitched, but everything else begged, “please, just let me rest.”

I wish I could help the bee, but it’s gargantuan. Somewhere between a nickel and a quarter. Frighteningly enormous and potentially lethal. So, I had to walk away.