291. A Tiny Ghost Story

A Tiny Ghost Story 

Rosies and Goldie were not as bold as their fairy brothers and sisters. They seldom left their cribs, and rarely came down from the ceiling lured by the toys their father was always gifting them with. And when they did descend, all they would do was stare at the toys wide-eyed and smile timidly. Mamabranna, as all the Richearth children called their mother, had to bring the twins' meals up to the nursery in large trays. And the children would float down and sniff the food, and feed themselves on the essence of  it and take little more. But they were happy, it was clear they were.  Shy, but pleased. So Mamabranna did not force them to eat more or show more spirit. After all, that was what they were, spirits. And spirits have their ways of being and doing.

The ghostly twins’  fay brothers and sisters tried to get them to join in their games, but that was difficult too.The twins would watch them with interest when theye were playing but would never take part in the merriment. They would smile larger smiles though, and Rosendo, well, he could make them laugh. Especially when he turned himself into a flying squirrel and scampered about making funny noises.

The only day they had come out of the nursery was the day of their Name Day Party. In the garden of Richearth’s colonial home, they had spoken out their names in an unmistakeably clear manner: Goldenstar and Crown of Roses, they said they were. And they looked upon their gifts with pleasure and gave sweet thanks for them. So, shy as they were, there was no question of their not wanting to be part of the Goodfellow family. 

And then, one afternoon, things changed. For reasons best known to themselves, or  perhaps not even to themselves, Rosies and Goldie left their cribs and left their nursery. They floated down the  long staircase and out the front door of their home, and then passed like the ghosts they were beyond the locked garden gate. They moved freely around Apple Island, taking in everything they saw but stopping to examine nothing up close until they reached the sea and saw the Southern Port and Barrinthus’ barge. And this barge they boarded. Perhaps because it was what they had done in life, sail away, for many mortals go on being themselves when they become spirits and behave just as they have in life, the little twins hid neath a bench in the boat and thus left the island when Barrinthus began to row away from it, unconscious of the weightless, invisible little stowaways.

They descended from the barge when it reached shore, spotted a bee among the pink and yellow gaillardias that were waiting bravely for the first frost to hit the beach, and followed the bee all the way to Minced Forest.

When it got to the Eucryphia Grove, there where Little Mathilde had once been hidden from the world, the bee paused on a pinkish flower and made ready to go to sleep. Definitely.

“We know why you haven’t returned to your hive,” said Rosies to the bee.

“You are going to die,” said Goldie, “ for you are a mortal like we were, and tonight you will be on your way to the Fields of Asphodels.”

“We know you will do this, because we used to dwell there ourselves. There were bees among the asphodels, and they told us they had done what you are doing now. All they do there is repose on the petals of flowers. They don’t make honey,” said Rosies.

“We know what honey is now. Our Mamabranna feeds us hot toast with butter and honey,” explained Goldie.

Before the mortal bee could make an answer, a third party intervened. This was a little girl too, older than the twins, but still little.

“My name is Melissa,” said this child. “Who are you?”

The twins spoke their names and Melissa smiled.

“I thought that was who you would be. I’m your aunt. Melissa, the bee fairy born in a fallen mulberry tree rife with beehives. I was at your Name Day Party. I gave you and your brothers and sisters honey from my hives, hives which are now in my mother Titania’s garden, mulberry tree and all. It’s true that bees don’t return to their hives when they know they are going to die. They wait under the open night sky and there is where that happens.”

“Do you feel bad?” the twins asked the little bee.

The tiny, mortal bee nodded.

“And sad too,” she said, “I don’t think I can do more for my sisters. Only die outside the hive so as not to upset them.”

“If you die tonight, you needn’t go to Hades. We can take you home with us, and you can be our pet ghost,” said Rosies.

“We can take her home with us, can’t we?” Goldie asked Melissa.

Melissa nodded.

“You needn’t die tonight, little old bee,” said Melissa. “You can come with us. The minute we get to Apple Island, you will feel better. You will heal, and I will take you to my mother’s garden, and if you find a hive you want to live in you can stay there. I will take care of you, like I look after all the bees that dwell in the hives on the tree I was born in.”

The little old bee made an effort and got up.

“If you die on the way, you can be our pet, remember that. Don’t fly off to Hades, You’ll be very bored among the asphodels,” said Rosies.

“Nothing ever happens there,” agreed Goldie, "neither good nor bad."

The bee did become a ghost before it could make it to Melissa´s tree. So it went with Goldie and Rosies to their nursery, and it slept with them up in the ceiling, and the next morning, everyone there was charmed by it. It became a very popular bee among the Richearth children and their cousins. They named it Pamela by unanimous vote and today, most of the time, the bee Pamela decorates Rosies' crown of roses.

As for Goldie and Rosies, they were no longer afraid to leave the nursery. They knew they wouldn’t have to return to Hades if they did, just as the bee hadn’t ended up in the Asphodel Fields. From then on, they went out every night, the twins did. Their mother let them do that, because they were ghosts, and she had been a vampire herself when young. So she understood what it was like to need to go out at night. And what the twins did at nightfall was wander all over Minced Forest searching for mortal bees who were dying, and take them home with them, and soon they had their own hive and their own brand of ghostly honey. Melissa taught them how to care for the bees. And not all the bees the twins found died. Some made it to Apple Island alive, and healed very nicely and  went to work for Melissa, at her  mulberry tree in Titania’s garden.  

This story has been told to you by Little Dolphus.