conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about Barney, Cassie, Harriman entitled The Bumblebee Flies Anyway.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Bumblebee Flies Anyway: Barney Snow (Elijah Wood) wakes up in a hospital with no memory of why he is there.\nAll he has is his name and some vague recollections of a car crash.\nHe assumes that he is in the hospital for his amnesia and settles in to try to recover.\nHe quickly realizes that all of the other residents of the youth clinic are all suffering from terminal illnesses.\nAnother patient, Mazzo (Joseph Perrino), asks Barney to play host for his visiting twin sister Cassie (Rachael Leigh Cook).\nBarney immediately falls for Cassie and strives to get better, if only to be able to see her in a setting outside the hospital.\nHe is determined to learn about his past so that he can make her a part of his future.\nIn his explorations, both inside his shattered memories and through the physical rooms of the hospital, Barney starts to realize that there was no car crash.\nDoctor Harriman (Janeane Garofalo) induced amnesia in Barney to make him forget everything in his past.\nBarney demands to know why, and Harriman tells him he has cancer.\nThe experimental procedure that Barney is undergoing is attempting to test the power of the mind in fighting cancer.\nBarney had volunteered for the treatment, hoping for a miracle cure.\nThe theory was that if Barney didn't know he had cancer, the body might stop creating the cancer cells.\nThe explanation Harriman gives comes from an old myth that, based on weight ratios to wing power and wind resistance, the bumblebees should be aerodynamically incapable of flight — yet the bumblebee doesn't know that, so it flies anyway.\nTorn between his hope for a cure and his desire to continue his budding relationship with Cassie, Barney is forced to choose whether to go through the amnesia procedure again or remain with the memories and knowledge he has thus far acquired.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about Bumblebee, Flies, Anyway entitled The Bumblebee Flies Anyway.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Bumblebee Flies Anyway (novel): This story stars teenaged Barney Snow, an American resident also part of "the Complex," an experimental facility where drugs are tested on children and teens with terminal illnesses.\nHe questions why he is there and what is being done to him but also uncovers a terrible secret about himself.\nLater, he starts to devise a plan that will take him and the people around him on one last glorious ride.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.. Start with the sentence 'The Bumblebee Flies Anyway
  Barney was happy that he wasn't involved with the Ice Age'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Bumblebee Flies Anyway
  Barney was happy that he wasn't involved with the Ice Age. The last merchandise had been bad enough, and he was still feeling the effects. It had made him dizzy—more than dizzy: nauseous, his stomach spinning as fast as the whirling room, the walls slanting toward each other, shimmering and willowy, giving the room a strange surrealistic dimension. He had clung desperately to the bed as if it were a raft on stormy seas, riding it out, waiting, clinging to the collapsed sails that were the bed sheets. His temperature, however, remained stable, and so did his blood pressure. Which made the Handyman happy. And when the Handyman was happy, everybody was happy, although happy probably wasn't the right word. Finally, after eighteen hours, the dizziness abandoned him. The nausea also left. He lay weak and wan and listless on the bed, no strength at all in his body but filled with a sweet sense of having survived. Don't forget, the Handyman warned, there will be aftermaths. The Handyman always laid it on the line.
  Barney turned away. He had never watched a procedure before. The light reflected on the glass of the viewing window and he felt a little dizzy, a little woozy: the aftermaths. The Handyman hadn't encouraged Barney to watch the procedure and hadn't discouraged him either. Free choice, the Handyman said, you have free choice here. A laugh, of course.
  He left Isolation, left behind the spectacle of Ronson on the table, looking like some kind of giant insect, with strange antennae sprouting from him. And giggling away like mad. Ronson was tough, tougher than any of them, a fighter who'd won the Golden Gloves in Lowell two years ago, but he always giggled when it was his turn for the merchandise. A reaction, like the others. Allie Roon always wet his pants, which made it necessary for the Handyman to provide rubber underwear. Billy the Kidney whistled a soft tuneless birdlike melody. And Barney chewed the insides of his cheeks, his teeth gnawing at the flesh. Those first few moments of anguish always passed quickly, however. Allie's peeing, Billy's whistling, his own chewing stopped as soon as the merchandise began to work. Then you had other things to think about. Or sometimes, nothing. Depending. Sudden oblivion often waited after the needle plunged into the flesh: There was usually a needle where the merchandise was concerned.
  Barney walked down the corridor, heading for fresh air. Bascam had said he could stroll the grounds today and smell the lilacs. Then she had blushed deeply and apologized. She had forgotten that he could not smell the lilacs or food cooking or anything else. His sense of taste had also been banished. Approaching Mazzo's room, he saw a stranger at the doorway, an outsider, dressed in outsider clothes, blue pants, tan jacket. He was carrying a package. Strangers were rare in the Complex. As Barney watched, the stranger opened the package and pulled out a telephone, like a magician on a stage. A sleek streamlined telephone,green, one of the fancy ones. The stranger stepped into Mazzo's room. A telephone for Mazzo? Must be, Barney thought. Mazzo, the bastard.
  Billy the Kidney came into view from the other end of the corridor. He was not in his wheelchair. He stood uncertainly, looking in Barney's direction. Billy the Kidney began to walk toward him, legs wobbly, knees bobbing. Billy had trouble walking. Had trouble doing anything. He had orders to stay in the wheelchair but constantly defied the orders, even though it was painful for him to walk. He placed one foot carefully after another now, like a child taking his first steps. He was grimacing, his tongue sticking out of one corner of his mouth, as if he was trying to remember how to operate his body, this strange mechanism of bones and muscles and tissues.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Barney found himself scaling the fence, going up faster than he'd intended, renewed strength in his bones and muscles. The wind caressed him as he climbed, as if someone stroked him in his ascent. Allie crooned encouragement from below. If Cassie could see him now. At the top he swung his legs around. Clinging precariously but triumphantly there, he looked down to see Allie trying to clap his hands, missing most of the time, slapping at air, but a wide smile cracking his face open.
  The junkyard looked the same to Barney, a forlorn battlefield untouched by spring and the change of seasons. If anything, the ruined vehicles seemed to have shrunk further into the ground. The MG gleamed in the sunlight, a small riot of color in all that drabness and desolation. In his mind's eye he saw the car speeding along the highway, Mazzo at the controls, a white scarf billowing in the wind, and he and Cassie crowded beautifully close together, laughing and singing as the car sped along. But the MG in the lot was only an illusion, not really a car. Like his dream of Cassie's love. Both not real, false and fake.
  He looked at the Complex, which seemed to tower menacingly above him. A place of secrets under that slanting roof. In a corner of Barney's mind the glimmer of a vision winked, like a star's quick glitter from afar. He held his breath waiting for the glimmer to grow. Glancing again at the MG, he let the vision burst full flower. He saw for the first time the flight of the Bumblebee, although Cassie had not yet provided him with the name.
  Mazzo's condition seemed to improve—temporarily, of course, Barney realized, remembering the Handyman's words—and Barney found that the visits to his room were almost pleasant, as pleasant as any trip to a sickroom could be. Although Mazzo still brooded a bit and seldom initiated a conversation, letting Barney carry the ball, he didn't mind answering questions. About his prep-school days, baseball and football and mountain climbing, the mountain in question Katahdin up in Maine. Mazzo's eyes came alive when he told Barney about the game Stanley Prep won in the last half of the sixteenth inning, a night game, at three o'clock in the morning.
  Eventually, all the conversations ended that way, on a bitter note, but before that happened Mazzo seemed to enjoy reminiscing. Barney listened, bored sometimes but disguising the boredom, waiting for an opening in the conversation to ask about Cassie. When the opening came, Barney moved in quickly.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He had a trick he had learned, and the trick was the blinking of his eyes and in the blinking came the memory of the Bumblebee, gliding down the roof as if in slow motion, sleek and gleaming in the moonlight, gathering speed, wheels flashing as they turned.
  He remembered clinging to Mazzo's body, ignoring Billy's voice calling from the skylight, and watching the Bumblebee's course, unstoppable, not to be denied this flight to glory.
  Free of the roof, the Bumblebee hung in the air for a sweet split second, suspended in time and space, the way a dancer pauses in a soaring leap, breathless, denying for a precious moment the laws of gravity, untouchable and unspeakably beautiful.
  Then the Bumblebee disappeared, one moment there and the next moment gone, as if removed from Barney's sight by some marvelous, mysterious act. He listened for the crash of the Bumblebee, the smashing and splintering of wood as it struck the ground below. But heard nothing. He laughed, delighted, knowing that the Bumblebee still flew, soaring out into space, unending in its flight.
  In the bed he now occupied he was surrounded by a grayness, and out of the grayness came faces. The faces were always sad and unsmiling. He wanted to tell them: Hey, laugh, or at least smile a little, because the Bumblebee is still flying and we made it fly. Often, in the grayness, he searched for something, lost, beyond his reach. A face he had known. He tried to summon the face but couldn't. Her face. But there was only a blankness in the grayness and a terrible loneliness and longing. He wanted to cry out for—who?