I wanted it to be fatal both ways
 |
| Image: All Rights Reserved |
| New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux |
| 2007 |
Not all bees sting. The family Meliponidae is an order of stingless bees, who have developed other kinds of defenses to protect their hives against intruders. But when a bee does sting a human being, the bee loses its life. The stinger is barbed, and human skin is thick enough that the bee can’t withdraw it once it has been inserted, so the bee struggles until it rips itself free, leaving the stinger and parts of its body behind. This is always fatal to the bee. The person who was stung merely has a sore spot for a day or two unless the person is allergic to bee venom. Then the sting will be fatal both ways.
My father died because a man had some kind of argument with his boss, got incredibly drunk in the middle of the afternoon, and drove his Jeep Arroyo into the back end of my father’s Honda at seventy-four miles an hour; the police said he never even tried to brake, they didn’t know if he was suicidal or what. He didn’t die, though. He got pretty messed up, but he didn’t die. My father died. He never even made it to the emergency room.
My mother asked me if I wanted to go to the funeral with her, but I said no; I stayed at my grandmother’s instead, staring at the TV while I colored my way through an entire coloring book she bought me, Animal of the Alphabet, I remember that. B for Bear. T for Tiger. Q for Quail of course, what would any of those books do without quail? Z for Zoo. I colored hard; the pages were soft and dented from the wax of the crayons, new crayons; I remember that, too. When my mother came to pick me up, my grandmother met her on the front walk and hugged her, and asked how the funeral had been.
Closed casket, my mother said.
Are you all right? my grandmother said.
I’ve been better, my mother said. Her fancy black blouse was all wrinkled. Her eyes were red. How’s Dana?
I had come up behind them on the walk; I put my arms around her from behind and squeezed. I’ve been better, I said, and they laughed a little, kind of startled, and then my mother cried. At that point I hadn’t actually seen my father for, I don’t know, a while. But I still wanted to have him in the world. I was sorry the guy who hit him hadn’t died. I didn’t tell anyone this, but I was. I wanted it to be fatal both ways.
Extract from the book Kissing the Bee
By Kathe Koja
All Rights Reserved
New York : Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007.
Call Number: Y English KOJ
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Have you ever wished death upon someone?
October 12th, 2009 at 8:47 pm
Haha, maybe. sometimes, you can’t get ahold of yourself. and let your emotions run wild. humans with complex minds in this modern era. im sure when you get strongly agitated you’ll surely by hook or by crook wished that the offender was dead. it’s just a thought to make you feel better, im sure soon after you’ll eradicate this silly wish.