Hour of the Bees (26 page)
Authors: Lindsay Eagar
“There is no ending,” I explain to Luis, “because stories never end. They just turn into new beginnings, forever and ever. Like the rings of a tree trunk.”
“Tree,” Luis says.
“Say
árbol
,” I say.
“Árbol,”
he repeats, and claps his hands. I nod, a proud teacher. He’s learning Spanish, slowly, a word a day.
Measuring time with words.
Story time is Luis’s favorite part of the day, when I get home from school and grab an apple for us to share, and take him out into the backyard.
We’ll have a new beginning soon: next summer we’ll drive down to the ranch again, but this time, we’ll stay.
Luis wanders across the yard, determined to catch a bee that has landed on a petunia.
T
he girl climbed back in the tree and listened to the bees buzz in the flowers until the stars came out, and all she heard was the great loud silence of the open desert
.
Once upon a time, there was a tree
.
To my dear peach of an agent, Sarah Davies — your patience and wisdom deepen and strengthen my writing and my life. Thank you for all you do.
To my stellar editor, Kaylan Adair, who is everything a writer could want in an editor — you get me. You make me better. Thank you for making my debut experience a positive and beautiful thing. Here’s to many more inbox exchanges.
To everyone at Candlewick Press, for championing this book and working tirelessly to get it into people’s hands — thank you. I am honored to be part of the Candlewick bookshelf.
To coffee. Thank you.
To Clint Mansell, whose hauntingly gorgeous soundtrack to
The Fountain
was my soundtrack and sonic map while writing
Hour of the Bees
— thank you.
To everyone who read
Hour of the Bees
before it was book-shaped — thank you, for the brainstorming sessions, the gripes, the cheerleading, all of it.
To my family — my parents and siblings, for listening to all my stories, and to Kenneth and Finley, for making new ones with me. Thank you.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2016 by Lindsay Eagar
Cover illustration copyright © 2016 by Kristina Closs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2016
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number pending
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