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“Did I hear that right?” Marguerite asked. “Did a wasp come through the jet tunnel with us?”
“Relax, Dear,” Todd said. “They’re not going to let any critter like that on board. Honey bees, yes, but not wasps or hornets or yellow jackets.”
“What? Do you think this is funny?”
“Funny, no. Hilarious, yes.”
“You know I’m allergic to bee stings of any kind, Todd. I’ve swollen up like a balloon before. Remember that ER visit that cost us thousands?”
“Oh yeah. Forgot. Say, Ma’am,” Todd said to the Flight Attendant. “Is there a, um, bee on board?”
“Funny you should ask. Yes, there is. We’re working to get rid of it even as we speak. Somebody is at least.”
“See, Marge, nothing to worry about. The airline’s doing what they can to squash that thing right now.”
Marguerite sat back in her seat and closed her eyes but her mind was still swirling a mile a minute.
“I’ve got these goose bumps all over me just imagining it’s nearby.”
Todd said, “I personally think it’s….whoa, what was thaaaat?”
Marguerite sat tall in her chair and opened her eyes.
“What? What?” she said.
“I think I have a bead on it,” Todd said.
“You can’t have a bead on it. That’s gun terminology.”
“Whatever, Ahh, got it. All over now, folks. Bee’s dead. Repeat, the bee – the wasp – is dead.”
Several passengers nearby applauded.
Todd opened the palm of his hand to drop the insect on the floor. It dropped and he rubbed it into the carpet with his shoe.
“Bees. Flies,” Todd thought. “Eh, what’s the diff? So, I’ll never be an entomologist. Big deal.”