Seed by Lisa Heathfield Page A

down hard on the chair leg and it slots into place.
    “Come on,” I say. “Ruby’s coming too.” I put my hand on his elbow and start to pull him with me. “You’ve been here over three weeks and haven’t even seen the bees.” When Ellis stares at me, I wish I could take back my words. Have I been counting the days I’ve known him?
    “I’ll tell Kindred John where you are. He won’t mind,” Kindred Smith says. So Ellis has no more reason to hesitate.
    It’s a strikingly hot day. Everything seems dry and thirsty. Ruby runs ahead of us as we go around the back of the house. We walk through the East field, which is resting this year, and the ground feels knobbly under our feet.
    “Who is Cedar?” Ellis asks. “I heard Bobby talking to Sophie about him.”
    I hesitate. “He used to live here.”
    “Where did he go?” Ellis asks.
    I turn to him. He’s looking at me as he walks. “I don’t know. One morning they were just gone.” I had almost forgotten about Cedar, and the memory licking at me makes me feel uncomfortable.
    “They?”
    “Sarah and Cedar,” I say reluctantly.
    “What made them go?”
    I look down at my feet. Dust is creeping into my sandals. “Papa S. says she was poisoned by the whispers.”
    “What whispers?”
    “They come from Outside. There was a storm that night and the whispers were carried on the clouds, clothed in thunder. They made Sarah and Cedar run away.”
    Ruby has stopped. I walk quickly toward her, thankful that I don’t have to say any more. She’s holding something in her hand. When we reach her, she shows us the smooth, round stone with its swirls of poppy red.
    “Look,” she says to me. “The sun has painted it.”
    “You should borrow it,” I say warmly, and she puts it in her pocket.
    We reach the bee shed in the corner of the field. When I open the door, the smell of old honey rushes out. I love coming in here. As a child, it was always the job I begged to do. Elizabeth taught me everything.
    We walk to the hooks where the hats hang like fish skins. I reach up and pass one to Ellis.
    “Just this?” he asks. “What about the rest of the suit?”
    “This is all we use,” I say.
    “And gloves too?”
    “No.” I laugh at his expression. “The bees won’t hurt you.”
    “They sting.”
    “Hardly ever,” I say as I pick up the basket with the pine needles and matches. I pass Ellis the wooden box and Ruby reaches for his other hand as we walk from the shed across the field, to where the hives sit waiting for us. I can’t wait to show him. The world of the bees is magical and I want to be the one to share it with Ellis for the first time.
    As we get closer, we put our hats on so the veils cover our faces.
    Ellis laughs beneath his veil. “I feel like a spaceman.”
    “What’s a spaceman?” I ask.
    “A man who goes to space.”
    I don’t know what he means, so I just keep walking.
    “You know?” he asks.
    “No,” I say.
    Ellis shakes his head. I can see his eyes looking at me through the net over his face. “Have they never told you about people going to space? Walking on the moon?”
    I stop and look at him. The anger he has placed in me makes my head so hot. He is ruining it. Ruining everything. “I’m not stupid, you know,” I say.
    “I know you’re not,” Ellis says.
    “So why test me? Tell me stupid things to see if I believe them?”
    “I don’t,” he says.
    “Someone walking on the moon?” I raise my eyebrows at him. I hope he can see.
    “Yes. They did. They do. And they have helmets like these.” Ellis reaches up and touches the white surrounding his face. “But harder and with oxygen pumping into them.”
    “Then you’re the stupid one, Ellis,” I say. “Is that what you learned at the school? I wonder what other things you believed.” I laugh, the air warming my lips even more. Ellis just shakes his head and carries on walking.
    I forget about his words as soon as we get to the hive. I light the pine needles