Flies and the Century-Old Stable

Chapter 1: Life Beneath the Old Beams

At the very edge of the tiny village of Hickoryville, where a narrow dirt road disappears into rolling green hills, stood an ancient stable. Its wooden beams, darkened by time and smoothed by years of use, had witnessed an era when the village was just a handful of houses and farmers still plowed their fields with horses instead of machines. The stable had stood in the same spot for over a hundred years, surviving wars, storms, and changing owners, always remaining a sanctuary for animals and insects alike.

Among the hundreds of flies that inhabited this century-old stable, one family held a particularly special status: the Buzzingtons. Not because they were bigger or stronger than the other flies, but because, according to fly legend, it was the very first Buzzington who had founded the fly colony here when the stable was still being built by the hands of the first landowner of Hickoryville.

“Our great-great-grandpa Alfred was the first fly to discover this stable,” Grandpa Theodore Buzzington would tell the young flies every evening as they settled into their favorite spots beneath the roof. “He flew for hours and hours until he saw the humans constructing this magnificent stable. And right then and there, he knew—he had found a home for all future generations of Buzzingtons.”

Little Berta Buzzington always sat closest to Grandpa, her wings neatly folded, her eyes locked onto his face. She was the youngest in the family, with shiny wings that sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the cracks in the stable’s roof. Her eyes, made up of thousands of tiny lenses, saw the world differently than the other flies.

“And he never flew beyond the hills to see what’s out there?” Berta asked one evening, interrupting Grandpa’s tale.

Grandpa Theodore frowned, his antennae twitching with unease. “Why would he? He had everything he needed right here.”

“But what if there’s something better out there?” Berta insisted.

“Better?” snickered her cousin Victor, who was perched nearby. “What could be better than this? We’ve got horses who provide us with food, a solid roof over our heads, and no predators.”

“Victor’s right, Berta,” her mother, Elizabeth, agreed, giving her daughter a gentle pat on the wing. “The Buzzingtons have lived in this stable for generations. It’s our home, our legacy.”

But Berta had an explorer’s spirit. While the other flies were content with their daily routine—visiting horse backs, feasting on bits of hay, and resting on warm beams—Berta dreamed of what lay beyond the stable’s massive wooden doors.

“Be careful with those dreams, Bertie,” Grandpa Theodore warned one evening when he caught her wandering too close to the stable doors. “The outside world is dangerous for little flies. There are birds just waiting to gobble you up. And spiders! Huge, hairy spiders with eight eyes and sticky webs.”

“I’m not little,” Berta argued. “My wing muscles are growing. Soon, I’ll be stronger than Victor.”

Grandpa chuckled and settled onto a rusty nail sticking out of the beam. “Strength isn’t everything, little one. Wisdom is more important. And wisdom tells us that we are safe here.”

The days in the stable passed in a peaceful rhythm. Every morning, the flies buzzed off for their daily patrol, inspecting fresh hay, greeting the horses, and dodging the swipes of stable hand Joe. In the afternoon, most flies rested while the sun blazed outside, and by evening, they resumed their rounds through the stable.

But Berta had her own rituals. She secretly explored the stable’s forgotten corners, where other flies never ventured, eavesdropped on the horses’ stories, and observed the humans coming and going.

“That new horse, the brown one in the second stall, says he came from a farm beyond the hills,” she told her family one evening at dinner. “He says they have an even bigger stable than this one!”

“Just gossip,” her father, Gregory, waved a wing dismissively. “Horses always exaggerate.”

“But what if it’s true?” Berta pressed on. “What if there are other stables? Bigger and newer ones?”

“And what if there are?” her mother replied calmly. “This one is ours. We know every beam, every crack, where to hide from the rain and where to escape the draft.”

Chapter 2: New People in the Stable

One summer day, with the sun high in the sky, an unusual commotion echoed through the stable. The horses neighed nervously, and the flies buzzed over one another in confusion. Berta immediately darted out of her family’s nest and headed toward the doors.

Several humans entered the stable. They weren’t the stable hands or farmers she knew. These ones carried papers, measured the walls, and scribbled notes.

“The foundation is still solid,” said one of them, a man with gray hair and glasses. “But the roof needs a full replacement, and the east wall is leaning. I’m afraid this renovation will be a big one.”

“What’s happening?” Berta asked her grandfather, who had flown up beside her.

Grandpa Theodore, whose wings were crinkled with age, watched the humans thoughtfully. His antennae twitched with tension. “I’ve seen this before, back in my father’s time,” he said in a hushed voice. “It’s called renovation. The humans are going to change the stable.”

“They’re going to change our home?” Berta cried out in alarm.

“Yes, my dear,” Grandpa nodded, his voice weary. “Every generation of humans adjusts the stable to their needs. Some parts get torn down, others get rebuilt. It’s how they pass on their legacy.”

“But what about us? What about our legacy?” Berta’s antennae trembled with fear.

Grandpa gave her a sad look. “We’re just flies, Berta. Humans don’t care about our legacy.”

News spread quickly throughout the stable. The Buzzingtons called for a grand gathering of all the flies to discuss what to do. Some flies suggested leaving immediately to find a new home, while others insisted they should stay and adapt to the changes.

“We’re not going anywhere!” Victor declared stubbornly. “This is our home, and we’re staying, no matter what happens.”

“And where will we live when they tear down the roof?” asked an older fly. “What will we do when the rain comes and we have nowhere to hide?”

The discussion went on through the night. Berta listened to all the opinions, arguments, and fears. And the more she listened, the more she felt certain—there had to be a better place than this old stable, which would soon be unrecognizable.

That night, when she returned to the family nest, she couldn’t sleep. She lay awake, listening to the soft breathing of her parents and siblings, deep in thought. What if there really was a better home for their family? What if that horse was right, and beyond the hills, there was a bigger, better stable?

“Tomorrow,” she whispered to herself, “tomorrow I’ll take a closer look at the doors. Maybe I’ll see what’s out there.”

She didn’t know that her adventure was about to begin. That her life was about to change forever. Because beyond the doors of the century-old stable lay a world full of dangers—but also wondrous discoveries. And one little fly named Berta Buzzington was determined to explore it.

Chapter 3: The Secret Journey into the Human World

Berta barely closed her eyes all night. She fluttered beneath the stable’s ceiling, her mind racing with everything she had seen and heard. Renovation. The word echoed in her head like a warning bell. What would happen to their home? Where would all the flies go? And what about the horses? So many questions, so few answers.

The next morning, the entire Buzzington family awoke to an atmosphere thick with tension. Even Victor, who usually shrugged everything off, was unusually quiet.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” her mother, Elizabeth, tried to stay optimistic as she handed out the morning tasks. “Gregory, check the west wall. Theodore, you take the ceiling. Victor, watch over the eastern side. And Berta… Berta, stay close to the nest.”

“But Mom,” Berta protested, “I want to help!”

“Which is exactly why you’ll stay here,” her mother replied firmly. “I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

Berta rustled her wings in frustration but obeyed. Or at least, she pretended to obey.

The moment her family took off for their inspection, she sneaked toward the stable doors.

Today, the doors were wide open, flooding the stable with bright morning light. Berta hid behind a nail and watched as the same humans from yesterday entered. The one with glasses and gray hair held a large, folded paper, which he opened and showed the others.

“Look, we’ll tear down this entire wall and replace it with glass panels,” he explained, pointing to the sketch. “This stable is going to become a modern center for hippotherapy. The children will have a direct view of the horses.”

“And the roof?” asked a younger man in a blue shirt.

“A complete overhaul,” the gray-haired man replied. “We’ll tear off the old one and build a new one with insulated attic space. It’ll be warm in the winter and cool in the summer.”

Berta’s tiny heart pounded. Tear off the roof? But their nest was up there! Generations of Buzzingtons had lived beneath those beams!

“We start next week,” the man continued. “First, we’ll finalize the detailed plans in the office, then we’ll begin the work.”

Berta’s mind spun. The office. That’s where they made the plans. That’s where they decided the fate of her home.

At that moment, Berta made the boldest decision of her life.

She flew straight toward the gray-haired man. He was wearing a dark gray coat with a large outer pocket. Without hesitation, Berta dove right in.

The pocket was dark but surprisingly cozy. She smelled minty candies and something she later recognized as tobacco. The fabric swayed gently as the man walked, and Berta had to grip onto the cloth to avoid falling out.

Then, suddenly—movement.

The man was getting into a car. The engine growled, and the vehicle lurched forward.

Berta was on her way far beyond her home, into a world she had only dreamed of.

The car ride lasted about twenty minutes, but for Berta, it was an entire universe of new experiences. She heard music from the radio, felt the engine’s vibrations, and caught bits of conversation between the gray-haired man and his driver.

Finally, the car stopped. Berta felt the man moving, getting out, and walking. Then—the sound of a door opening, followed by greetings, and finally, the creak of a chair as he sat down.

She peeked out from the pocket.

She was in an enormous room filled with tables, computers, and people. Large architectural blueprints covered the walls, and stacks of plans lay spread across desks.

So this was what an architect’s office looked like!

“Good morning, Mr. Novak!” a woman’s voice called out. “Your usual coffee?”

“Yes, thank you, Marika,” the man—Mr. Novak—replied. “And bring me the blueprints for Hickoryville. We need to finalize the plans for that old stable today.”

Berta took her chance.

As Mr. Novak took off his coat and hung it up, she quietly slipped out and took off into the air.

She flew up to the ceiling and scanned the office.

The room was massive, even bigger than the entire stable. The ceiling was high, with round lights hanging from long cables. Large windows lined one wall, allowing sunlight to flood in.

“Where are the plans?” Berta whispered to herself, zipping over the desks, scanning for any drawings of the stable.

Then—something unexpected happened.

A piercing scream shattered the air.

“A FLY! There’s a giant fly in here!”

Berta whipped around.

A red-haired woman was pointing right at her.

Her name tag read Receptionist Sasha.

And in her hand—a rolled-up newspaper.

“I’ll get it!” Sasha declared determinedly, raising the newspaper high.

Berta’s adventure had just taken a very dangerous turn.

Berta darted to the side, just as the rolled-up newspaper whizzed past her. She sharply changed direction, zipping across the room with Receptionist Sasha in hot pursuit.

“Stop, you disgusting bug!” Sasha shrieked, knocking over a chair in her attempt to swat Berta.

“Sasha, what are you doing?” Mr. Novak called out, but she wasn’t listening.

“This fly is NOT going to buzz around here! It’s unhygienic!”

Berta zig-zagged, soaring over desks, under chairs, skimming low over the floor, and then climbing back up. Her tiny heart pounded—and for a good reason. This wasn’t like dodging the stable caretaker’s broom. This was a full-on battle for survival.

“Help!” she buzzed, even though she knew no other fly would come to her rescue. She was completely alone.

Sasha slammed into a desk so hard that a miniature model of a building toppled over and shattered on the floor. A horrified silence fell over the office.

“SASHA!” Mr. Novak roared. “Stop immediately! That was the model for the mayor!”

Sasha froze, mid-swing, her face turning red.

“But the fly—”

“I don’t care if there’s an entire swarm of flies in here! That model took weeks to make!” Mr. Novak was furious. “Go back to reception and calm down. We’ll talk about this later.”

Sasha slowly lowered her newspaper, her head hanging, and sulked out of the room.

Berta, still panting, landed on top of a cabinet, trying to catch her breath. That was too close!

As her heartbeat slowed, she noticed something.

From a glass enclosure in the corner, a pair of large, brown eyes stared at her. They belonged to a small, cream-colored dog, who watched her with keen interest.

Berta cautiously fluttered closer. The dog didn’t seem hostile. In fact, he wagged his tail and gazed at her almost admiringly.

“That was amazing!” the dog suddenly spoke, his voice warm and playful. “I’ve never seen a fly move like that! Sasha always chases flies, but none of them ever escape like that.”

Berta froze.

“You… you can talk?”

The dog chuckled, which sounded more like a soft whimper.

“All animals can talk,” he said. “It’s just that humans don’t understand us. I’m Jack, by the way. Mr. Novak’s loyal office buddy.”

“I’m Berta. Berta Buzzington,” she introduced herself. “I came from a stable in Hickoryville.”

Jack’s ears perked up. “Wait… the stable my owner is renovating?”

“Yes!” Berta nodded excitedly. “It’s been our home for generations. But now they want to tear it apart. They’re even going to destroy the roof, where we have our nests.”

Jack scratched his ear with his front paw, thinking.

“My human’s a good guy, but sometimes he has to do what his boss says,” Jack admitted.

Berta buzzed closer and landed on the edge of his dog bed.

“I need to see those blueprints,” she said urgently. “Maybe there’s a way to save our home.”

Jack tilted his head. “You really think a tiny fly can stop humans?”

Berta hesitated—but only for a second. Then, she straightened her wings and declared boldly:

“Just because you’re small doesn’t mean you’re weak. I can fly, and humans can’t—and neither can you.” She smirked, just a little.

Jack snorted. “Alright, alright, fair point,” he said, amused. “If you’re serious, I can help you.”

Berta eyed him suspiciously.

“You really want to help save my stable?”

Jack shrugged, which looked hilariously awkward for a dog.

“Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do. I just sit in this box all day, waiting for my human to finish work. This sounds way more fun.”

And just like that, an unlikely friendship was born—between a brave little fly and an architect’s dog, both working together to save a century-old stable.

“I’ve got an idea,” he finally said. “My human goes home every night, and sometimes he leaves me here—unless I jump into the car at the last second. But I know for sure that this office is completely empty at night.”

Berta’s antennae twitched with excitement.

“If we stay hidden, you can try to change the blueprints!”

“Change the blueprints?” Berta’s wings fluttered nervously. “That would be amazing—but how? I don’t know how to draw or write! And what do humans even use to do that?”

Jack shrugged. “Beats me. The closest I’ve ever come to outsmarting a human was sneaking extra kibble when my owner wasn’t looking.” He chuckled.

“But don’t worry! We’ll figure it out. Together, we’ll save your stable!”

Berta sighed. “But how, Jack?”

“First things first—hide in my fur before someone spots you! Quick, Berta!”

Berta zipped toward him and burrowed deep into the softest part behind Jack’s ear.

Oh wow, this is nice, she thought. Way softer than a horse’s back!

And so, for the rest of the day, Berta observed everything happening in the office from the safety of Jack’s ear, hidden from human eyes—especially the watchful gaze of Receptionist Sasha, who still suspiciously scanned the room from time to time.

As evening fell, the office slowly emptied.

Jack stayed perfectly still in his dog bed, making it very clear that he was not going home tonight.

“Alright then, Jack, I’ll see you in the morning,” Mr. Novak told his last remaining coworkers as he grabbed his coat.

“Good night!”

Chapter 4: A Nighttime Adventure in the Office

“Now we wait until everyone’s gone,” Jack whispered as the last employee shut the office door behind them. “Then, we’ll have the whole night to figure something out.”

Berta fluttered nervously from Jack’s ear to his nose and back again.

“I’m so nervous,” she admitted. “I’ve never done anything this daring before.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jack reassured her, trying to sound confident, even though he had no idea how a tiny fly could alter architectural blueprints. After all, everyone knew flies couldn’t draw.
Then again, neither could dogs, he thought.

The last rays of the setting sun streamed through the large office windows, slowly giving way to darkness. One by one, computers powered down, lights flicked off, until only the soft glow of the emergency lights remained.

“Finally!” Jack sighed in relief, jumping out of his dog bed. “Let’s get a better look at those plans.”

Berta buzzed ahead, hovering as Jack cautiously walked between the desks.

“They should be on Mr. Novak’s desk,” she reminded him.

Jack nudged a chair aside and placed his front paws on the desk. But when he looked around, he frowned.

“Where is it?” Jack muttered in frustration.

“Maybe Mr. Novak took it home with him,” Berta suggested, circling above the desk to get a better view.

Then, they both froze.

From a dark corner of the room, they heard something move.

Not only that—two small glowing dots pierced through the darkness!

“What is that?” Berta whispered in fear, quickly flying back to Jack.

“I… I don’t know,” Jack admitted, stepping back cautiously. His nose twitched intensely, trying to pick up the scent of this mysterious visitor.

The glowing dots moved closer, and suddenly, a high-pitched squeaky voice rang out:

“Squeak, squeak, squeak!”

“Aaaaaah!” Berta shrieked, panicking as she shot away—only to smack straight into a computer monitor.

Dazed from the impact, she spun uncontrollably, falling toward the ground.

Jack leaped forward, catching the stunned fly in his soft fur.

“What are you doing?!” Berta gasped, snapping awake. “You’re going to glue my wings together with your slobber!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Jack apologized, carefully placing her on the desk. “I just didn’t want you to hit the floor!”

“Squeak, squeak! You two sure are jumpy!” the high-pitched voice spoke again, now much closer.

A small, gray creature with a long, thin tail scurried out from behind a computer.

“Oh, it’s just Nibbles!” Jack sighed in relief. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you in the dark. I’m usually asleep by now.”

The little mouse groomed her whiskers with her tiny paws before standing on her hind legs for a better look at Berta.

“And who’s this?” she asked, tilting her head. “I’ve never seen such a big fly before.”

“I’m Berta Buzzington,” Berta introduced herself, still a little dizzy from the crash. “I came from the Hickoryville stable.”

“Oh! The stable they’re planning to renovate?” Nibbles nodded in understanding. “I heard the employees talking about it during lunch.”

“You live here?” Jack asked, surprised.

Nibbles puffed up her chest proudly. “Three generations of my family have lived in this office! I have a cozy little home behind the coffee machine—and no one even knows I’m here. Except for the cleaning lady, who sometimes leaves me cheese.”

“That’s amazing!” Berta twirled in excitement. “Maybe you can help us! We need to change the renovation plans so the fly nests aren’t destroyed, but we don’t know how.”

Nibbles rubbed her tiny paws together, thinking.

“Hmm… I’m pretty good with my hands,” she mused. “I can open fridge doors, drawers—even cookie tins.”

“Really?!” Jack wagged his tail excitedly. “That means you might be able to redraw the blueprints!”

“I’m not sure…” Nibbles hesitated. “What exactly do you need changed?”

Berta buzzed higher. “First, let’s find the blueprints! They have to be somewhere in this office.”

The three unlikely teammates got to work.

Jack searched the lower shelves, Nibbles scurried across desks and drawers, and Berta flew over cabinets and high shelves.

After ten minutes of searching, Nibbles let out an excited squeak.

“Found it! It’s in the document cabinet!”

Jack and Berta rushed over to a tall metal filing cabinet, where Nibbles was already skillfully fiddling with the handle on the second drawer.

With a soft click, the drawer slid open—

And inside lay a blue folder, marked in bold letters:

“PROJECT HICKORYVILLE.”

“You’re incredible!” Jack praised.

“Years of practice,” Nibbles winked, skillfully pulling the blueprints from the folder. Once they spread them out on the floor, Berta hovered above, pointing out the biggest problems.

“See this? They want to tear down the entire roof, where our nests are. And here, they’ve drawn that huge body of water in the middle.”

“A pool?” Nibbles squeaked in confusion. “Why would they put a pool inside a stable?”

“Ohh, so that’s why they need glass walls and a new roof,” Nibbles nodded, understanding now. “But… that doesn’t help your flies, Berta.”

If they go through with this, there’ll be no place left for the fly families. Everything will be new, glassy, sterile…”

Nibbles scratched her head thoughtfully. “Hmm… what if we altered the blueprints so they keep at least part of the old roof? The part where your nests are?”

“That would be amazing!” Berta’s antennae quivered with hope. “But how? We can’t draw like humans.”

“Maybe we don’t need to redraw the whole blueprint,” Nibbles mused. “What if we just added notes that would make the architect reconsider?”

“Notes?” Jack tilted his head.

“Yes!” Nibbles excitedly stood on her hind legs. “We could write that this part of the roof should be preserved because… because…” she trailed off, thinking.

“For its historical value!” Berta suggested.

“Or because birds nest there, too!” Nibbles added.

“Brilliant!” Jack wagged his tail. “But who here can write?”

Silence.

Not the mouse, not the dog, and definitely not the fly could write human letters.

Their plan was falling apart—until suddenly, Nibbles snapped her tiny fingers.

“I’ve got it! We don’t need to write—we can leave marks!”

“Marks?” Jack looked confused.

“Exactly! I once saw the cleaning lady spill coffee on an important document, and guess what? They had to redo the whole thing! If we create ‘accidental’ stains in the right places…”

“…the architect will be forced to rethink those sections!” Berta finished excitedly. “Nibbles, you’re a genius!”

“Do we have any ink or paint?” Jack asked.

Nibbles pointed her tiny paw toward a white machine in the corner.

“There! The printer! It has ink cartridges. If I can open one…”

“Let’s do this!” Jack said determinedly.

The trio got to work.

With Jack’s help, Nibbles climbed up to the printer and skillfully opened the cover. She pulled out the black ink cartridge—the best choice for maximum mess-making.

“Now, we have to be careful,” she warned, twisting at the cap. “Once this spills, there’s no going back.”

With a soft pop, the cap loosened, and inky black liquid started to drip.

“Quick! To the blueprints!” Berta commanded.

Jack gently grabbed the cartridge in his mouth, making sure it didn’t spill too fast, and carried it to the spread-out plans.

Nibbles pointed to specific areas.

“Here! Where they planned the new roof. And here! Where they’re putting the pool. If we ruin these spots, they’ll have to rethink their layout.”

Berta hovered above, directing the operation.

“Careful, Jack! A little more to the right—yes, there!”

Jack angled the cartridge, letting inky black drops splatter across key areas of the blueprint. The stains bled into the paper, covering up details of the pool, the new roof, and some of the glass walls.

“Perfect!” Nibbles praised as they finished. “Now, we need one more thing to really push the architect in the right direction.”

“But what?” Berta asked.

Nibbles thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up.

“I know! There’s a bookshelf in the office next door filled with books on historic architecture. If we place one of them next to the blueprints—open to a page about preserving old buildings—”

“—it’ll make them think twice before destroying the roof!” Jack finished excitedly.

“This might actually work!” Berta buzzed in delight.

“Alright,” Nibbles said. “We need to get to that bookshelf. Who’s coming with me?”

Jack grinned. “I’ll go. I’ve got the biggest paws—I can pull the book down.”

“And I’ll stand guard,” Berta offered. “If someone comes back, I’ll warn you.”

“Then let’s move!” Nibbles squeaked.

With Nibbles riding on his back, Jack dashed into the adjacent office, where they found a bookshelf packed with heavy volumes.

Nibbles scanned the titles quickly, then grinned.

“This one!” she squeaked, pulling out a book titled “Preserving Historic Elements in Modern Architecture.”

With combined effort, they dragged the heavy book back to the blueprints.

Guided by Berta, they flipped it open to a chapter about maintaining original roof structures, then positioned it perfectly beside the stained blueprints—right where Mr. Novak couldn’t possibly miss it.

“Do you think this will work?” Berta asked hopefully.

“It has to!” Jack nodded. “My human is smart. When he sees ruined plans and this book right next to them, he’ll know it’s a sign.”

“And if not,” Nibbles giggled, “I have a backup plan. I know where Sasha hides her favorite chocolate. A few crumbs in the right places might attract ants—and that would be a real office disaster!”

The three of them burst into laughter, imagining Sasha’s horrified reaction to an ant invasion.

“Thank you,” Berta said, her voice filled with emotion. “I never imagined I’d find such amazing friends so far from home.”

“It’s nothing,” Jack said casually, waving a paw. “Helping others is just the right thing to do.”

“And besides,” Nibbles added with a grin, “this was the greatest adventure I’ve ever had! Just imagine what I’ll tell my grandchildren—how I helped save a century-old stable!”

The three friends spent the rest of the night sharing stories.

Berta told them about life in the stable, the traditions of the Buzzingtons, and her family’s history.

Jack shared funny memories of his life with Mr. Novak.

And Nibbles revealed the secrets of the office, things only she knew.

As the first light of dawn streamed through the windows, they knew their nighttime mission was coming to an end.

“I need to get back in my bed before the humans arrive,” Jack said.

“And I need to hide behind the coffee machine,” Nibbles agreed.

“And I…” Berta hesitated. “I should go home. My family must be so worried about me.”

“But how will you get back?” Jack asked, concerned. “It’s far.”

“My human is probably going back to the stable today,” Jack realized. “When he sees the ruined blueprints, he’ll want to check the site. You can hide in my fur, and I’ll take you there.”

“You’d really do that for me?” Berta’s eyes shone with gratitude.

“Of course!” Jack smiled. “We’re friends.”

With one last goodbye, they parted ways.

Nibbles promised to watch Mr. Novak’s reaction and report back when Jack returned to the office.

Berta snuggled into Jack’s soft fur, right behind his ear, just as she had the night before.

As she waited, exhaustion finally caught up with her.

She was tired, but happy.

Maybe—just maybe—their plan would work.

And even if it didn’t, she wasn’t alone anymore.

She had friends.

With that comforting thought, Berta slowly drifted off to sleep, rocked by the gentle rhythm of Jack’s breathing, while outside, the sun rose on a brand-new day—one that might just bring salvation to her family and home.

Chapter 5: The Hero’s Return

The next morning, Mr. Novak arrived at the office precisely at eight, as always. Jack watched him through half-closed eyes, feeling Berta stir gently in the fur behind his ear. Receptionist Sasha had just placed a steaming cup of coffee on his desk when Mr. Novak began sifting through his papers with a satisfied sigh.

“Thank you, Sasha. Today, we’ll finalize the plans for Hickoryville, and—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, staring at the blue folder. “What in the world?!”

Sasha hurried back to his desk. “Is something wrong?”

“Look at this!” Mr. Novak pointed at the blueprints, now covered in black ink stains. “Someone ruined the designs for the stable! And this book… where did this come from?”

Sasha frowned in confusion. “I didn’t put it there. Maybe the cleaning lady?”

Mr. Novak anxiously flipped through the damaged project papers, then opened the book about historical architecture with curiosity. “This is strange… it’s almost as if someone is trying to send me a message.”

While he examined the stained blueprints, Jack subtly inched closer to the desk. He knew that if he wanted to get Berta back to the stable, he had to make sure Mr. Novak took him along.

“Well,” Mr. Novak finally sighed, rubbing his temples, “there’s no use postponing it. I have to go back to Hickoryville and remeasure everything. These documents are useless now.”

Jack wagged his tail enthusiastically and pranced around Mr. Novak, trying to look as eager as possible. His owner chuckled.

“You want to come with me, Jack? I suppose I did promise you a walk yesterday.”

Gathering the remaining papers, Mr. Novak grabbed his coat, and Jack eagerly hopped toward the door. Berta clung tightly to Jack’s fur to keep from falling as he trotted outside.

“Let’s go, we need to get this sorted out immediately,” Mr. Novak said, motioning for Jack to follow as they headed for the car.

The drive to Hickoryville passed quickly. Mr. Novak mumbled to himself the entire way, complaining about the ruined blueprints and debating whether he should reconsider his renovation plans. Jack lounged happily on the passenger seat, while Berta anxiously waited for the right moment.

When the car finally pulled up in front of the old stable, Mr. Novak stepped out, carrying his folder under one arm. Jack leaped down right after him, and in the brief moment when he shook himself off, Berta seized the opportunity—she slipped out of his fur and took off toward the stable.

“Jack, stay here. I just need to check the dimensions again,” Mr. Novak instructed before walking toward the entrance.

Jack grinned as he watched Berta fly toward the open doors. “We did it! Now, let’s hope our plan actually works.”

“Thank you, Jack. You’re an amazing friend,” Berta said, touched by his kindness. “I hope we meet again.”

“We definitely will! Every time my human comes here, I’ll look for you,” Jack promised.

Berta gave him one last grateful wave of her wings before darting inside.

Reunion in the Stable

Inside, tension filled the air. The entire colony of flies had gathered on the central beam, their voices buzzing with worry and speculation about the future of their home.

“Berta!” her mother, Elizabeth, gasped when she saw her. “Where have you been?! The whole family has been searching for you!”

Within seconds, Berta was surrounded—her parents, Grandpa Theodore, Victor, and a swarm of concerned relatives bombarded her with questions. Some were angry, others relieved, but all were clearly overjoyed to see her safe.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady,” her father, Gregory, said sternly. “You disappeared for two whole days! Your mother was beside herself with worry.”

“I’m so sorry, Dad, Mom,” Berta apologized. “But I had to do something to save our home.”

“Save our home? What are you talking about?” Victor asked, skeptical.

Berta took a deep breath, ready to tell them everything—but before she could, a deep human voice echoed through the stable, silencing the entire colony.

All the flies turned to watch as Mr. Novak stepped inside, his eyes sweeping across the old beams with newfound appreciation.

“Incredible,” he murmured, running his hand over the ancient wood. “These beams must be at least a hundred years old. And the craftsmanship… they don’t build like this anymore.”

The stable’s owners, Mr. and Mrs. Hickory, followed him inside.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Novak?” Mr. Hickory asked.

Mr. Novak scratched his chin, deep in thought. “You know, I’ve reconsidered the whole project. This stable has priceless historical value. These pillars, the entire structure—it would be a shame to demolish it. And the pool… it doesn’t belong here at all.”

“The pool?” Mr. Hickory raised an eyebrow. “But that was your idea!”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Mr. Novak admitted sheepishly. “But I was so focused on modernization that I failed to see the real value of what was already here.”

Mrs. Hickory looked around the stable thoughtfully. “So, what do you suggest?”

Mr. Novak pulled out a notepad and started sketching rapidly. “What if we preserve the original construction, including the roof, but reinforce it with protective treatments? We could restore the support beams while maintaining their historical charm. And over here,” he pointed to the empty space on the west side, “we could create a modern lounge area for visitors, lined with hay to complement the stable’s rustic feel.”

The Hickorys exchanged surprised glances, then slowly nodded.

“That actually sounds better than the original plan,” Mrs. Hickory admitted. “Visitors would get to experience the charm of an old stable while still enjoying modern comforts.”

“Exactly!” Mr. Novak beamed. “The horses will love it, and we’ll preserve an authentic piece of the village’s history.”

The flies had been listening intently, and when Mr. Novak mentioned keeping the roof intact, the entire colony erupted into joyful buzzing.

“They’re keeping the roof!”
“Our nests are safe!”
“We don’t have to move!”

Berta hovered above her family, her wings shimmering in the golden light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling. She felt a wave of overwhelming pride and joy.

“See, Grandpa,” she said, turning to Theodore, “sometimes it’s worth stepping beyond the known world to discover new possibilities.”

Grandpa Theodore gazed at her with newfound respect. “You’re right, Berta. You saved our home. You’re the true hero of the Buzzingtons!”

A Legacy Preserved

In the following weeks, news of Berta’s heroic adventure spread throughout the stable. Flies from all corners came to hear the tale of how she had sneaked into the architect’s office, befriended a dog named Jack and a clever mouse named Nibbles, and worked together to save the century-old stable.

And when the restoration finally began, the flies watched in amazement as workers carefully reinforced the beams, treated the old wood, and seamlessly blended new additions into the original structure.

“Look, Berta,” Victor pointed to the newly finished visitor’s lounge lined with fragrant hay. “If it weren’t for you, this would be a swimming pool, and we’d be scattered who knows where.”

Berta smiled modestly. “I wasn’t alone. Without Jack and Nibbles, I couldn’t have done it.”

And indeed, every week when Mr. Novak returned to check on the renovations, he brought Jack along. Berta always seized the chance to catch up with him, sharing news from the stable. Sometimes, Jack even brought messages from Nibbles, who still lived behind the office coffee machine and proudly kept tabs on the project.

Time passed, and the stable transformed—not into something unrecognizable, as the Buzzingtons had feared, but into a stronger, safer, and still deeply historic version of itself. Most importantly, the fly nests remained untouched.

One crisp autumn evening, as Grandpa Theodore settled onto his favorite beam to tell stories to the young flies, he didn’t start with the usual tale of the first Buzzington who had discovered the stable.

Instead, he said, “Tonight, I’ll tell you a different story. The story of a little fly named Berta, who dared to leave the safety of her home in order to save it. The story of how she found friends in the most unexpected places and proved that even a tiny fly can accomplish great things.”