Chapter 9. When a tree falls

Where another piece of priceless heritage is lost

Note: Author commentary at the end of the chapter. This commentary is exclusive to the Cacao Muse; you won’t see it on Amazon, my author site, or printed inside the wrappers of my favorite chocolate bars.

Already a good distance into the rainforest, Max followed Juan as they wound their way through the thick, fragrant vegetation. Neither spoke. Juan whipped stray branches aside with his machete, looking for signs of stingless bee hives in tree cavities, roots, and fallen trunks. Max tried not to stare at the snake wound on Juan’s left leg.

Suddenly, Juan turned, looking after an insect that had flown past—it was not a stingless bee. Max averted his eyes, but too late. Juan caught him looking at the scar. To Max’s surprise, Juan just looked at him, turned and continued on his way.

Max opened his mouth to say something, to deflect any awkward feelings, but then thought better of it. Maybe it was better to say nothing. He thought about his best bud Claude back in California and how different it felt to be with him. For some reason, when Claude taunted him it never felt like a threat. And Max would taunt him right back of course. They were like brothers. So far, every time he’d seen Juan, his stomach had knotted up.

Max decided to try and change that. As his father always said, he was almost a man, and men face their challenges head on.

“Hey, um, Juan, so what do you look for to find these bees?”

“They like empty spaces. Like holes in trees,” said Juan, not bothering to stop or turn to Max.

“Like this one here?” Max had stopped at a young tree with a small cavity at its base.

Juan cast a cursory glance at the tree.

“Nah. Too small.”

“Hmm, okay.” But something pulled Max to the little tree. He stepped closer, leaned in, and… “Juan! I see one! Actually three!”

Max was pointing to something buzzing about the cavity. Stepping over a few lianas, Juan took a closer look. And there it was. A miniature swarm of stingless bees.

“They’re building a new nest,” muttered Juan. “That means the mother lode is close.” He waited patiently for the bees to start returning to the original hive. Sure enough, within a few minutes, several of the bees took off.

“Let’s go!” Juan quickly slipped through the foliage after the bees. Used to chasing bees, his vision was ultra-acute; he could isolate the tiny bee against the surrounding foliage in perfect detail.

Max did his best to keep up.

After what seemed like a breathless forever, with plenty of scratches from tree branches to show for it, Juan paused, motioning for Max to slow down. Max wasn’t sure what Juan was looking at. Then he saw: a fallen tree, still young, its trunk intact except for a small fissure in its side. Slowly, the two boys moved in closer—and there it was, the tell-tale papery tube that marked the entrance of a stingless bee hive.

Juan stood up tall. “What did I tell you. This is the queen’s hive.”