Bzzzz. A little bee buzzed past the window just as Fofuxo asked, “Pigúiça, have you seen my favorite bone? The long one, with the crooked tip?”
Pigúiça had seen it. In fact, she had borrowed it to play with, buried it somewhere in the garden, and completely forgotten where. But she felt too embarrassed to say so.
So she looked at the little bee and blurted out, “It was a bee! A bee took it!”
Fofuxo raised an eyebrow. A bee? Carrying a bone as big as a stick? But he didn't say a word about that. He only said, “Well, how about that. Let's go look in the clearing, then.”
The two of them walked through the woods. Pigúiça was very quiet. The little fib sat inside her, heavy as a rock in a pocket, if puppies had pockets.
In the clearing, something surprising happened. A bee flew by carrying a bone! A teeny one, the size of a grain of rice, but it was definitely a bone. Fofuxo and Pigúiça stared with their mouths open.
“There's the thief!” said a puppy nearby. “Catch that bee!” shouted another. And the poor bee zipped back and forth, scared and confused.
Pigúiça's tummy squeezed tight. That bee hadn't done anything. It was just carrying its own little bone home. And now everyone thought it was a bone thief, all because of one little fib.
“Stop!” said Pigúiça. Everyone stopped. She took a deep breath and looked at Fofuxo. “It wasn't the bee. It was me. I took your bone, buried it in the garden, and forgot where. I'm sorry, Fofuxo.”
Fofuxo lowered his head until he was right at her level. “Thank you for telling me,” he said. “You know what's easier to find than a lost bone? A lost bone when we look for it together.”
The bee did a little loop above Pigúiça's head, zzz, as if to say thank you, and flew off with its tiny bone.
The two of them went home and dug up the whole garden. The flowers helped. “Cold!” said one. “Warmer!” said another. “Red hot!” shouted the daisy in the corner. And there was the bone, crooked tip and all, covered in dirt.
That night, Pigúiça felt as light as a feather. The invisible rock was gone. She curled up in her bed, her nose still smelling like garden dirt.
Outside, the little bee was asleep in its hive, with its tiny bone right beside it. And Pigúiça slowly closed her eyes, calm and cozy, and slept until morning.
