Bumble Piewright's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Bumble Piewright had one pie tree and a dream too big for it. He wanted a whole grove, enough pies to fill every belly in Fern Gully. But his crooked straw hut already sagged under the pies he couldn't sell. The single tree gave more fruit than he could eat, yet it could never feed a hungry gully alone. To grow a grove, Bumble needed a second tree. To grow a second tree, he needed a seed. And he had none. He searched the ground beneath his tree on his knees. His huge fingers sifted the dirt for anything he could plant. He found beetles, pebbles, and one lost spoon. No seed. The fruit his tree dropped rotted into mush without ever holding a pit he could grow. "A grove from one tree," Bumble muttered. "You can't stack pies into a forest." Then he remembered the old squirrel in the pine. Aldernook Pinecrest lived high in a pine tree, tidy as a locked cupboard. Every creature in Fern Gully knew he hoarded pie tree seeds and traded them for almost nothing. Almost. Bumble had heard the price for years and dreaded it. The squirrel wanted one thing, and only one thing. Bumble baked all night. He picked the ripest fruit and worked the crust with hands too big for the task. By morning he carried a fresh apple pie up to the pine, still warm, cradled like a nervous egg. "Aldernook!" Bumble called. "I've come to trade!" The squirrel poked his head from a round door in the trunk. He wore a green robe and a necklace of acorns. His eyes went straight to the pie, then narrowed. "Trade," Aldernook said. He climbed down and circled the pie three times, sniffing. "Fresh. Apple. Warm." He tapped the crust with one claw. "An ogre who bakes. The world is full of surprises." "One pie for one seed," Bumble said. "That's the deal, yes?" Aldernook lifted a paw. "That was the deal. But I have only my last seed now. The wild pie trees don't drop them like they used to." He patted his tidy cache in the branches. "One seed left. And you want to plant a whole grove." Bumble's heart sank. One seed made one tree. Not a grove. "Take it anyway," Bumble said. He set the pie down gently. "One tree is more than one. I'll start with one." The squirrel considered. Then he took the pie, bit in, and closed his eyes. "Deal." He fetched a single brown seed and pressed it into Bumble's open palm. Bumble closed his fingers around it. He had his seed. But he also had the squirrel's words stuck in his ears. This was the last one. The wild trees weren't dropping seeds anymore. One seed would grow one tree. To feed all of Fern Gully, Bumble needed hundreds. And now he knew there were no more to trade for.