A Meadow in Two Thousand Pieces

There is a beehive on the roof of Orchard Court. There is a table too. The hive is white and made of wood. The table holds a jigsaw puzzle under a sheet of plastic. Both of them belong to Anand and Nami now.

Anand climbs the roof stairs every morning in the summer holidays. He puts on his gloves and lifts the lid of the hive. The bees hum like a small, busy city. The last keeper left town in March. She gave him the roof key.

Nami lives on the third floor. She came last winter and knew no one. One day she follows the sound of the bees up the stairs. Now she comes to the roof every evening. She brings two glasses of juice.

The puzzle is her idea. A neighbor left it behind in a cardboard box. It shows a green meadow full of flowers. It has two thousand pieces. The sky is finished. The grass is nearly done. The flowers are the hard part. Every piece looks like every other piece.

"Yellow, yellow, yellow," says Nami. She holds up a piece and frowns at it. "Who needs this much yellow?"

"The bees do," says Anand.

This week, Anand has a problem. It is a good problem, but it is still a problem. He has two invitations, and both of them are for Saturday.

The first is from his cousin Dev. Dev goes to a lake camp for a week. There is swimming and boats. A long wooden raft floats in the lake. Three of Anand's school friends go too. Dev saves him a bed in the cabin. He sends a photo of the raft.

The second invitation comes from the leader of the beekeepers' club. She sends a short message. The honey is ready on Saturday. Anand can run the harvest himself, for the first time. Nami can help him. The work takes the whole week. The honey must rest in buckets before the jars.

Anand reads both messages three times. He reads them again at lunch. He puts his phone face down on the table. Then he picks it up again.

"What do I do?" he asks Nami that evening.

Nami fits a flower piece into the meadow. It snaps into place with a tiny click. "Both are good," she says. "You will have fun at camp. And you will learn something here."

"That is not helpful."

"I know." She grins. "Go or stay, I'm fine. Really. I can find another helper without you."

"You can't lift the frames alone."

"Then I will find a strong person." She keeps her eyes on the puzzle, and her voice stays light.

Anand does not answer. He picks up a piece and turns it over in his fingers. He cannot see where it goes. He puts it down and picks up another one.

On Friday morning, Anand has to decide by noon. He goes up to the roof early. The sun is already warm on the tar. The hive is loud. He puffs gentle smoke at the door. Then he lifts the lid.

He pulls out the first frame. It is heavy and sticky. The honeycomb is gold from edge to edge. He pulls out a second frame. It is the same. Then a third.

A bee walks across his glove. It stops at his thumb and cleans its wings. Anand stays very still. He knows this bee, or one just like her. She does not know what Saturday means. She only knows the work is done. The honey is ready.

He thinks about the lake. He thinks about the raft and the cabin. He thinks about the loud laughter at night. It all sounds wonderful. At camp, he will be one of fifty kids. Nobody will need him. Nobody will ask him anything.

Then he thinks about this hive. He knows the sound of happy bees. He knows the sound of worried ones. He knows which frames to take. He knows which to leave for the winter. A stranger will open this lid. That person will not know these bees.

Anand puts the frame back, gently, and closes the lid. He takes out his phone. His thumbs move fast.

"Sorry, Dev. I can't come. Bee work. Say hello to the raft for me."

He sends it before he can change his mind. His chest feels light and a little sad at the same time.

When he turns around, Nami stands at the top of the stairs. She holds two glasses of juice and a flat black bag.

"You are here early," she says. "The club leader sent this. It has the honey knife."

"I stay," he says. "For the harvest."

Nami puts the glasses on the table. Her smile starts small and gets wide. "You did not have to."

"I know. I want to." He looks at the hive and then at her. "At camp, I swim. Here, I make something. I like to make things."

"Good," says Nami. "Because the knife is very sharp. I'm afraid of it."

"You said you were fine alone."

"I am fine. I just like it better this way."

They sit down at the table. They peel the plastic from the meadow. Nami finds a corner piece. Anand finds three flowers that fit together. They work in the warm sun until the puzzle is almost full. Only one gap remains, near the middle. It sits between a blue flower and tall grass.

Nami checks the box. It is empty. She turns it upside down and shakes it. Nothing falls out. She looks under the table and inside her shoes.

"It was here yesterday," she says.

Anand leans over the gap. It is small, but the whole picture needs it. A bee comes in from the sky. She lands on the empty place. She walks across it in a slow circle. She cleans her wings, in no hurry at all.