Oh, that's so cute, though! Cricket is well-enough known to the kids around town that they'll sometimes approach him to help repair some toy, or identify some kind of bug they have in a matchbox. He's harmless, and their parents agree, even if he's one of the poorest around and on the bottom rung of any kind of social hierarchy. The more he talks to Hugh, the more like any other kid he seems, except for the bees.
The bees, on the other hand, seem like they're listening to him, and that's a little bit eerie, but Cricket accepts it the same way he would a talking animal in a fairy tale. He's not scared when they start to approach him; he's not threatening them, they have no reason to sting him if they understand that, and they'd have more to lose from aggression than he would. He grins a little when one settles on his shoulder.
"Wasps always look mean," he says thoughtfully, "whether they are or not. Bees look sweet, though. Honeybees and bumble bees especially. I think it's the fuzz and the big eyes."
He seems surprised by the offer to make honey. Here he was kind of thinking they made honey in some kind of space inside Hugh, and there was no way for them to share. "...I reckon I could get the materials for a box, if you mean that. Or a skep. Might be good cover in case anyone starts wonderin' where all the bees come from."
"Wouldn't want to ask 'em to work any harder than they wanna, but if they made enough to sell around town a little, that could be good." Or, really, even just enough to eat in-house. Blackberry and apple-blossom honey is delicious. But a little honey to sell would pay for some clothes and school supplies for Hugh.
He smiles weakly at the question, taking a drink of coffee before trying to answer. "Only sometimes. Aches a little after a long day, and sometimes in the winter. They're mostly just weak, though, not sore."
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The bees, on the other hand, seem like they're listening to him, and that's a little bit eerie, but Cricket accepts it the same way he would a talking animal in a fairy tale. He's not scared when they start to approach him; he's not threatening them, they have no reason to sting him if they understand that, and they'd have more to lose from aggression than he would. He grins a little when one settles on his shoulder.
"Wasps always look mean," he says thoughtfully, "whether they are or not. Bees look sweet, though. Honeybees and bumble bees especially. I think it's the fuzz and the big eyes."
He seems surprised by the offer to make honey. Here he was kind of thinking they made honey in some kind of space inside Hugh, and there was no way for them to share. "...I reckon I could get the materials for a box, if you mean that. Or a skep. Might be good cover in case anyone starts wonderin' where all the bees come from."
"Wouldn't want to ask 'em to work any harder than they wanna, but if they made enough to sell around town a little, that could be good." Or, really, even just enough to eat in-house. Blackberry and apple-blossom honey is delicious. But a little honey to sell would pay for some clothes and school supplies for Hugh.
He smiles weakly at the question, taking a drink of coffee before trying to answer. "Only sometimes. Aches a little after a long day, and sometimes in the winter. They're mostly just weak, though, not sore."