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152 pages, Hardcover
First published May 1, 2002
"I like my familiar woods, watching the changes settle on them, season after season. I don't feel like a visitor anymore. I'm a neighbor now. I belong. And pretty as this place is, I don't belong here. I feel it like a buzz just under my skin. It's saying, 'You've got another home.'"
“But don’t you find it hard?” Sarah Jane had asked her once. “Keeping up with it all?”
Aunt Lillian had smiled. “Hard’s being confined to a sickbed, like some my age are,” she’d said. “Hard’s not being able to look after yourself. What I do... it’s just living, girl.”
“But you could buy your food instead of growing it.”
“Sure, I could, except it wouldn’t necessarily be as pleasing to my soul.”
“You find weeding a garden pleasing?”
“You should try it, girl. You might be surprised.”
“What are these ‘sangmen?” Ruth asked. “Are they like the weird little guy who grabbed our sisters just now?”
The bee man nodded “They’re evil, rooty creatures.”
“And you’re just a bundle of sunshine and joy,” Grace said.
“At least we don’t take children of the light and put them in a dark hole.”
“I think you’re making this all up,” Ruth said. “I think the two of you are in cahoots. You and this singsong man.”
“Don’t you start correcting me,” Ruth told him. “You’re not family.”
“You’re in danger,” the bee man tried.
“Oh, right. Like we need to be protected from these singsong men.”
“Whatever they thing they are,” Grace put in.
“When what we really need is to be protected from you and your little buzzy friends.”