Sibling Reunion

They're getting older, five brothers and sisters, all with degrees, jobs, families, nice homes, good lives, happier than most except when they must fly to the home of their childhood and settle their mother's estate. They gather in the old stucco none of them is willing to sell. They drink bourbon and scotch and tell each other everything again that happened when they were young, what made them take planes anywhere trying to escape and forget. A few more drinks and they see the bees swarming the day Mom knocked the hive out of the willow with her clothesline pole. They were young, not yet in school, happy and laughing, clapping but not understanding why Father was gone, why he would call but never come home. All summer they rode tricycles into each other, yelling and screaming, ringing the bells on the handlebars, trying to figure out what had happened. Another few drinks and they agree it's time to go out in the yard and look up in the tree where the hive used to be. Once again they hear children yelling and screaming, riding into each other, ringing bells, looking everywhere for answers, not knowing the questions. In minutes they realize the reunion's over and there may never be another. It's time to pack, get on planes, escape before someone puts a match to the stucco. The hive's on the ground bouncing and they're all bees, swarming again. Donal Mahoney