The Music of Bees Eileen Garvin (best autobiographies to read .TXT) 📖

Then they all heard it—a terrible sobbing bark, an anguished canine shout from the back seat of the Jeep and a scrabbling of nails at the window as the dog tried like mad to get to the boy he hadn’t seen in over a year.

Years later, Jake was certain he would never forget the vivid details of the day Cheney came back. The sweet smell of lilacs hung thick in Alice’s yard. A thrush called out of the forest just past the meadow. He was wearing his favorite Ramone’s T-shirt. And he felt an impossible burst of joy when he heard the beloved, familiar bark that he’d thought was lost forever.

Harry struggled with the Jeep door. It was bad enough that Alice Holtzman sounded ready to castrate them all. Now this stray he’d found was raising holy hell.

Cheney leapt out of the Jeep and threw his lanky body at Jake, threatening to tip the wheelchair backward. He lapped furiously at the boy’s face. Then he ran to Alice and shoved his snout into her hair, before returning to Jake. Then he bounded off across the field like a giant brindled jackrabbit, singing a happy cry as if his joy was too large to be contained in his body and must be shared with the great wide world.

Alice came back to herself then. She took out her bandana, wiped her face, and blew her nose. She pushed herself up off the ground with a small grunt and looked at Jake. The boy watched the dog sprinting in a wild figure eight with tears streaming down his face. He laughed and laughed and couldn’t speak.

Harry was now certain he’d lost this job before he’d even started. “I’m so sorry. I just— I found him in the woods, and I couldn’t leave him up there. Ronnie said he’d take him to the shelter for me,” he said.

Alice watched the dog tear back to the boy and collapse in his lap. Jake put his arms around Cheney’s neck and buried his face in the dog’s big crazy ears.

Alice cleared her throat. “That’s all right, Harry. I think this dog belongs to Jake. Well, okay.” She took a deep breath. “Why don’t we all go sit down for a minute and get ourselves sorted? Come on, Ronnie. You can help me get some drinks.”

And that was how Alice Holtzman, aged forty-four, assistant to the county planning director, beekeeper, orphan, widow, and mother to no one, found herself sitting under the cottonwood tree with three young men, drinking lemonade and listening to their stories. It was an odd little group gathered there, crying and laughing by turns. But it happened like that sometimes. Sorrow released a person from common constraints, and in their grief they could be their true, bald selves. If others chose to witness that, to truly see others, well, it changed everything.

Jake sat with one hand on Cheney’s neck as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching him. He told them that Cheney had disappeared while he was in the hospital. Harry explained how he’d mistaken Cheney for a wild animal. Ronnie surprised them all by breaking down in tears as he told Alice how much he missed his uncle. Of course he did, Alice thought. Ronnie had grown up with Buddy. He’d been like a second father to the boy. Of course they missed him, all of the Ryans, as much or maybe even more than she did. Buddy had belonged to all of them.

Ronnie wiped his sleeve across his eyes and sniffled. “I miss you too, Auntie. We all do,” he said.

Alice reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’ve missed you too, Ronnie. I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you all. I really am.”

Ronnie smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay, Auntie. We understand. Mom said you just needed time.”

She smiled back. “I guess so,” she said.

“Look out now, though. Once they hear, you won’t chase ’em off. The Ryans are going to be crawling all over this place. Salazars too. You know how we do! Always somebody’s birthday or anniversary or quinceañera. Oh, right. Angie’s is next weekend. Connie’s youngest. See, I told you! Now you are officially invited. All of you!” He gestured to include Harry and Jake.

Alice laughed and said that sounded just great. She knew Ronnie’s dad would feel differently, but she didn’t want to hurt her nephew’s feelings, so she didn’t say anything. Ronnie probably didn’t know what had passed between her and Ron Senior on the day that Buddy died, all that had been said and could never be unsaid.

Alice asked Jake to give Harry a tour of the farm. In the barn, he pointed out the tool bench, the chicken supplies, and the beekeeping equipment. Cheney padded alongside them, sniffing and marking fence posts as he went. Jake watched his skinny butt shift from side to side and saw his ribs poking through his dirty fur. The two young men stopped at the entrance to the apiary. Cheney nosed the air and snapped his big teeth at the darting golden bodies.

“I guess Alice will show you the hives later,” Jake said, running his hand along the dog’s body from shoulder to flank, thrilling to touch him again. He hesitated, then said, “She had some bad news about them earlier today, so don’t ask too many questions, you know?”

Harry nodded. He was shocked that he was still employed and wasn’t going to ask anyone anything. His stomach uncoiled loudly.

Jake grinned. “Come on. You can help me with dinner.”

The two young men went in the house, and Cheney ran around to the back porch to the slider door. Jake put the chicken chili on simmer and dug in the fridge for some scraps for the dog—leftover pancakes, which he mixed with four eggs in a pie pan. Balancing it on his lap, he opened the slider, lowered the pan to the porch, and watched the dog gulp it down. Jake retrieved