Dalton smiles as he heads back to the royal living quarters. The queen unexpectedly gave him the afternoon off. Since she showed no sign of illness, Dalton hurried out of the chamber before Drucilla changed her mind. The queen has been known to reverse such decisions in the past. But the sooner Dalton or her court bees are out of her sight, the sooner she forgets about them and turns her attention to other things.
Buzzing a tune in a deep bass vibrato, Dalton nearly collides with Drucilla as he enters the corridor leading to the royal living quarters. He tries to recall the last time he found her alone outside of her chamber but is certain this has never happened. Drucilla is busy pasting the jacket of a book on the wall in front of the entryway. Beside it, she is posting a royal order that everyone in the beehive is required to read the book that is lying on the floor beside, stripped of its jacket. This has never happened in the history of the colony.
Drucilla: Oh, Dalton! Have you ever read this book? It’s called The Only Black Girls in Town. I’m sure you must have heard of it. You have read every book we have.
Dalton (looking skeptical): It seems this one has eluded me, your royal Highness. I’m not familiar with it.
Drucilla: Well, you would not believe the intrigue among the girls in the book and the mystery they find in a box of old journals. It is splendid! Just splendid!
For a moment, Dalton is speechless. He is so surprised he forgets to follow his own rules on addressing the queen.
Dalton: You actually read the book?!
Drucilla couldn’t decide if this was a question or a statement.
Drucilla (overlooking his lack of formality): I couldn’t stop reading it. I sent you away just so I could finish it.
Dalton gapes at her open-mouthed. He wonders if he fell asleep during his free time and is now dreaming all of this.
Drucilla: What are you staring at, Dalton? Don’t you think I can be just as interested in a book as you can? How often have I found you with a beeswax candle under one of my royal covers squinting at a shadowy page? It’s a miracle this hive didn’t burn down years ago.
Dalton (shaking his head to convince himself he was not dreaming): I apologize if I disturbed your sleep, my Queen.
Drucilla: No need to apologize. I was already awake. Now I understand why you wanted to keep the light on. This book got to me in exactly the same way.
Dalton reads through the book jacket.
Dalton: Your Majesty, you do know that this book was written for children, don’t you?
Drucilla opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again.
Dalton: That is not a bad thing, your Highness. Many adults read children’s books.
Drucilla: Who?
Dalton (desperately searching his brain for an example): Ah … ah … Frank likes them.
Drucilla waves her feelers in agitation, and Dalton knows he is walking an intellectual tightrope now.
Drucilla: Frank likes to read children’s books? Dalton, those are the only books he CAN read! And he is not a bee, so he doesn’t count. I’m not even sure he’s human.
Dalton: But he’s very grateful to you for letting him stay here.
Drucilla (her expression softening): Frank’s a good … well, a good … being. I am pleased that he is reading at all.
Dalton is relieved the queen is thinking of Frank now. Her irritation evaporates quickly.
Dalton: It IS a wonderful thing.
Drucilla: Yes, it is.
Drucilla and Dalton both sink to the floor and sit under the pasted-up papers on the wall. Drucilla invites him to sit next to her regularly now. Ever since the Queen of Hearts first showed up in the royal living quarters, Drucilla has become rather lax with regard to formalities. Dalton’s still not sure if this is an improvement in his working conditions or not.
Drucilla: Dalton.
Dalton: Yes, your Majesty?
Drucilla wrinkles her brow in thought while her proboscis straightens then rolls itself back up again.
Drucilla: What does it mean to be black?
Dalton (swallowing hard): I suppose it means that one has a dark exterior.
Drucilla looks at him as if he had a third eye.
Drucilla: I know that, Dalton. I mean … what does it mean … to be black?
Dalton (sighing): Please forgive me your Highness. I don’t have the slightest clue.
Drucilla (deep in thought): In the book, they refer to each other as black or white, but I’ve never seen a human that was either black or white.
Dalton looks out of the corridor and tries to think of some excuse to leave the entryway.
Dalton: Well, your Majesty, you know how simple-minded human beings can be. But maybe it’s something similar to how the bees and the mosquitos think of themselves.
Drucilla: Those horrible bloodsuckers?!
Dalton glares at her.
Drucilla: Well, they are!
Dalton continues to glare at her.
Drucilla: Don’t look at me like that!
Dalton sighs.
Drucilla: It’s not the same, Dalton. Mosquitos aren’t bees. But they’re all humans in the book. Why should humans set themselves apart from other humans?
Dalton feels a headache coming on. Drucilla sits deep in thought for several minutes.
Drucilla: Do they know that they are all humans?
Dalton: I think so.
Drucilla recalls that until a few days ago, she didn’t know that she lives in a book just like her guests. How is it possible she didn’t know that?
Drucilla: That must be the answer, Dalton! I’m sure they don’t realize they’re all humans.
Dalton remains silent. At times like this, it is the wisest thing to do.
Drucilla: But why do you say they’re like the bees and the mosquitos? That is a completely different situation.
Dalton stares at the floor, ignoring the question.
Drucilla: I mean the mosquitos really ARE bloodsuckers.
Dalton finally turns to her, risking to voice his own thoughts on the matter.
Dalton: I like the mosquitos.
Drucilla: You do?
Dalton: Yes.
Now it is Drucilla’s turn to be silent. The consternation is plain in the movement of her feelers.
Dalton: I like them very much.
Drucilla studies his face for any sign of irony and finds none.
Drucilla: Why?
Dalton: They are hard-working, intelligent, honest and loyal.
Drucilla looks as though she’s been slapped.
Drucilla: You’ve never said that before.
Dalton: No. I haven’t.
Drucilla: But you’ve always thought it?
Dalton: Yes, I have.
Drucilla: Why didn’t you ever tell me?
Dalton turns toward her but remains silent.
Drucilla (sighing): Alright, I know why you never told me. (Silence) What are you thinking about now?
Dalton: If I tell you the truth, will you promise not to even joke about chopping my head off?
Drucilla (frowning): I promise.
Dalton: Your Majesty, most of the time, you earn that title. You are everything I imagine a queen to be. You are fair and compassionate. You can be strict when the situation calls for it. And you can be gentle and kind, as you were to Frank.
Dalton smiles and Drucilla smiles back at him.
Dalton: Then I’m proud to say you’re my queen. At times like those, you are truly majestic. (Pause) Then someone just mentions mosquitos and hate just seems to pour out of you. I have never found a reason for it. And to tell you the truth, it makes me ashamed. Yes, it makes me ashamed of you.
Drucilla (tears threatened to spill over her cheeks): But I … you just … but that’s not … (She stands up) See to it that no one disturbs for a while, Dalton. I have to think about this.
Dalton nods. As she enters her chamber, she suddenly turns around and points to the papers on the wall.
Drucilla: And see to it that everyone reads this book by the end of next week!
Drucilla disappears inside the royal living quarters and sends her court bees out to find some other place to spend the night.
Dalton closes his eyes and sighs.
