“Let’s take a look.” Marsden lifted out a frame from the open box and propped it against the hive. Bees crawled all over the top and sides of a thin wax foundation.
Cassie took a step back. Jesus, so many bees. She didn’t think she’d said it aloud, but Marsden turned the frame over, frowning. “Not that many. Should be more.”
Her dad pried free another frame. This too was thick with bees, at least to Cassie’s eye, but Marsden looked displeased. He scraped at a section with his hive tool. “See this?”
Her dad leaned in.
“You’ve got varroa. And if they’re in here, they’re in the other hive too.”
“Varroa?” Her dad stood blinking, the breeze lifting his thin hair.
“Mites.” Marsden looked surprised her dad didn’t recognize the problem. “They’re parasites.” He pointed with the edge of the hive tool. “See that reddish spot?” Cassie stepped closer. In the section he’d scraped clear, she spotted a tiny reddish fleck in one of the hexagonal cells. “The mites get into the brood and weaken the larvae. They can attack the adults too, but you mainly see it in the brood. When the bees hatch they’re malformed and have all kinds of issues. Sometimes they can’t even fly.” He carefully slid the frame back into the box. “Varroa’s bad. It can destroy your colony.”
Her father said nothing. He seemed stunned.
“What causes it?” Cassie asked.
Marsden hiked a shoulder. “Colonies get stressed, maybe they went into winter without enough food. Pesticides are a big problem. They kill the bees that are out foraging, which weakens the hive. A weak hive is susceptible to pests.”
“I don’t use pesticides,” her dad said.
“What about the gardeners, Dad?”
Her dad opened his mouth then closed it again.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Marsden said as he helped her father lower the top box of the other hive to the ground. “Pesticides are everywhere—the golf course, your neighbors. Bees can forage up to three miles. There’s no telling what they get into.”
“Three miles?” Cassie said. “That’s all the way downtown. How do they find their way back?”
“Mental mapping. They have a kind of internal GPS. They use the sun to navigate so they know exactly where to come back to. In fact, if you move the hive three feet, they’ll fly around confused. When they return, the foragers do a kind of dance to let the others know where the food source is.” He stopped, looking embarrassed he’d said so much. “Anyway, that’s how they find their way back.”
“That’s amazing how they don’t get lost.” Cassie felt a surprising tug of admiration for the bees. So determined to get home. Better than she’d been.
“They have to get back before dark though,” Lilah put in. “They don’t fly at night.”
Cassie’s dad gave the girl an approving look. “There’s a young lady who knows a thing or two about bees.”
Lilah tossed a stick, which sent Charlie scrambling. “Not really, I’ve just hung around my dad a lot.”
“So is there any way to get rid of the mites?” Cassie asked.
“Chemicals,” Marsden said, “but I don’t believe in treating. There are other options, but depending on how bad the infestation is they don’t always work. Sometimes you lose the colony and have to start over. But you can breed for bees that are stronger, then if you get a few mites it won’t wipe out the hive. Would help if they could forage without bringing back toxins.” He glanced toward the Kingsley property. “It’s a shame they’retrying to develop that land next to yours. It’s the last open space we have in Laurelton.”
“They want to develop that property?” Her dad looked shocked. He’d apparently forgotten their conversation from the day before.
“Some developer bought it, but they don’t have zoning approval yet,” Marsden said. “The town could tie it up for a while. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
Her dad scowled. “We like this area the way it is, that’s why we bought this house.”We.The way he said it gave Cassie a pang.He spoke about her mother as though she were still alive and they were navigating life together. Her father had been alone a quarter century, but his marriage was still fresh in his mind.
“So,” she said. “What about those new bees? If my dad puts another hive in here, will they get sick?”
Marsden gently nudged a bee off his arm. “I don’t recommend putting in a new hive when you have varroa. You’ll likely lose that one too.”
Cassie glanced at her dad, who was busy inspecting another frame. She lowered her voice. “Look, I’m sure you can tell we need help.”
Marsden nodded thoughtfully. “I can see that.”
“Can you manage the hives? Do you do that kind of thing?”
