by Paul Cude
"Evening!" remarked Tank cheerily, pulling his large frame out of the darkness.
"Have you been chasing parked cars again?" mocked Peter.
Tank offered up a sarcastic grin in return as he dodged past the piano and into the living room. Suddenly, another head popped out of the darkness.
"Hi guys," called Flash, bounding out of the hole, hot on Tank's heels, just as the Galileo thermometer shot back into the upright position and the piano began to swing back into place.
"FLASH!" they both exclaimed. "How are you?"
"Fine thanks, and looking forward to playing... what did you call it again... Monogomy?"
"Monopoly!" asserted both friends simultaneously, their faces creased with laughter.
"Oops... oh yeah... Monopoly. Anyhow, thanks once again for the invite and sorry that I can't return the favour at the moment. With everything that's going on, the king is busier than ever and I don't think, even if I begged, that I could bring the two of you back... sorry!"
"It's okay," replied Tank, before Peter even had a chance to open his mouth. "We know the situation and it's not a problem for us to take turns in hosting. Anyhow, you have to travel all this way, and we just have to sit in our houses... easy really. So don't mention it again, it's a pleasure to have you come along. Besides, having you here stops me killing Peter when all he goes on about is being clean and tidy. 'Don't put your drink down there... not without a coaster! Use a serviette if you're going to eat one of those! Take care with the ketchup bottle... you don't want to spill any on the carpet!' If I was here on my own with him... I might just end up giving him a head transplant. I often think of ripping it off and mounting it on top of the hoover that's always on standby over there in the corner."
Flash smiled at Tank's little monologue, glancing across at the vacuum cleaner that was indeed standing ready to go in the corner of the room. By now, Peter was blushing profusely at Tank's full-on rant.
"It lives in the corner all the time. I've got nowhere else to put it."
"Don't give me that dragon dung," replied Tank smiling. "I know it doesn't live there. And if it did, it most certainly wouldn't be plugged in, with the socket switched on. I know you're a stickler for things like that, Peter, and you'd never let it stay plugged in overnight... so there!"
"Alright, alright," conceded Peter, holding his hands up. "Let's just get on with... Monogomy... shall we?"
Now it was Tank and Flash's turn to crease up with laughter.
"You know what I mean," stated Peter, sitting down next to the neatly stacked piles of pretend money on the floor.
"Ahhh... so you're the banker are you?" observed Flash, taking in the game board, the trays of food and drink, as well as all the fake money.
"How appropriate," chuckled Tank, "I've always thought of you as a banker."
Smiling and shaking his head, Flash tried very hard not to laugh as Peter motioned for the two of them to sit, and started giving out the designated piles of money that he'd already counted out. As he did, the doorbell rang. For just a split second the three of them became alert, tense.
"It's alright," declared Peter. "It'll just be someone trying to change my electricity supplier. I'll get rid of them... back in a mo."
Wandering down the hallway, Peter wondered if Tank and Flash were behaving themselves with the bank's money. So caught up in the moment, he'd already turned the lock and started to open the door before realising that he should at least have looked to see who was on the other side of it. If he had, he might not have had quite the surprised expression he was now wearing. After a brief, uncomfortable silence, Peter said,
"Hi Rich. How you doing?"
"Good thanks," replied Richie. "Can I come in?"
The first thing that zipped through his mind was,
'Boy, this has the potential to go badly wrong,' but the word that came out of his mouth was,
"Sure." Before he could mention that Tank and Flash were there, Richie had flitted past him and shot through the door into the living room. Securely shutting the front door, he quickly caught up with Richie, just as she'd discovered Tank and Flash. Richie raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Monopoly set.
"I didn't realise you had visitors! I'll come back some other time," she said, turning on her heels.
Bravely, or stupidly, depending on how you looked at it, Peter grabbed her by the elbow, stopping her progress back down the hallway. Instantly he regretted it and let her go.
"Don't go Rich. Stay... please?"
"Please Richie," echoed Tank's voice from the living room floor. "We'd really like that. Besides, it would give us a chance to kick your ass at Monopoly, or Monogamy as these two muppets like it to be known."
Peter knew exactly what Tank was doing. Under normal circumstances there was no way Richie would let a challenge like that go unheeded, and would undoubtedly make everyone pay by wiping the floor with them at the game.
'But if I know, then so does she,' thought Peter, as the awkward silence ensued.
Richie gave Peter her... 'look.' He'd seen the 'look' a thousand times and although he didn't know whether things would go badly or not, he was certain that the evening wasn't going to be dull, at the very least.
Strolling back into the living room, Richie sat back down next to the pile of money that was the bank. Peter's mouth opened just a fraction to tell her he was sitting there, when his brain caught up with events and immediately shut it. His brain screamed...
'If she wants to sit there... LET HER!' Walking around to the other side of the board, Peter plonked himself down in between Flash and Tank, as far away from the food and drink as possible.
Richie extended her hand in Flash's direction.
"I don't believe we've been introduced?"
Flash reached out with his perfectly formed hands, which encompassed all of Richie's slender little fingers.
"Dendrik Ridge, but you can call me Flash. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Richie's head creased in puzzlement.
"Flash, you say." She looked at Peter and Tank with an odd expression on her face, as her dragon senses stretched out to the max. Tank was the first to catch on.
"It's okay Rich, he is the Flash that we told you about, and yes, he's definitely one of us. It's just since his 'Antarctic adventure', he's very difficult to sense. Whenever I try and check him out, he comes across as more human than dragon... sometimes it's the other way round. It does seem to change."
As Richie cottoned on, Flash arched his head towards Tank.
"Does it really differ that much?"
Tank nodded.
"Seems to. From my limited experience, you seem to appear more human the later the hour. In the daytime you feel... well not fully dragon... but I can tell you're not human. The later in the day it gets, the more difficult I find it to sense that you're not entirely human... SORRY!"
"Don't be sorry," replied Flash. "If nothing else it's an interesting perspective on what's happened to me that I don't know about. Maybe one day it'll come in handy and I can use it to my advantage."
"Well," continued Richie, "it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you. You sound like my kind of dragon."
Flash bowed his head in acknowledgement.
"I've heard all about you, and it has to be said that by the sound of things, you make everything I've ever done seem quite tame... so it's a pleasure to meet you, finally."
At this point, both Peter and Tank were busy trying to stuff two fingers into their mouths in a mock attempt at making themselves sick. Richie looked at them both and said,
"So Flash, tell me... what makes you want to hang around with these two kids?"
Flash laughed. It was something he rarely ever did, or at least used to do. More and more of late he found himself genuinely laughing... and it felt good, despite the fact that he was stuck in this wretched form.
"You of all dragons, Richie, should appreciate there's more to these two, and yourself, than meets the eye. To use your own
words... you're all my kind of dragons, so to speak."
And so the fun began, with the game starting, but not before Peter had taken all the fake money back and made Richie (now the banker) count it all out fairly. After only about ninety minutes, it was evident that only one dragon was going to win... Richie, of course. Peter was the first out; at the point where he had to sell all his property back to the bank he gave in, much to the others' disappointment. It was Tank next, and as usual he conceded defeat with the good grace that had always been part of him. Flash lasted the longest, and for a while (well, only really a few moments) it looked like he might give Richie a run for her money, but simply put, she trounced each and every one of them, something Peter and Tank were used to, and something that Flash was very much starting to get the hang of.
Game over, and with nobody wanting to start again after such a clear cut victory, Flash and Tank kicked back, watching the television. Meanwhile, Richie joined Peter in the kitchen to top up the snack and drink situation. Peter got the distinct impression that there was something on Richie's mind that she wanted to talk to him about. Finishing popping some crisps into a large bowl with a whole load of others of all different flavours, in a kind of crisp Russian roulette, he watched as she walked right up to him.
"Peter," she whispered, "there's something I need to tell you."
"Sure Rich... what's up?" he responded, noticing her gaze fall from his face, down towards his chest. Gently she slipped a finger just inside his open necked shirt and carefully pulled the alea he was wearing, out from its hiding place.
"Ohhh... I'd almost forgotten all about this," she said dreamily. "You can almost feel its power, its history, the souls of the dragons that created it."
"Come off it Rich... you're having a laugh aren't you? The souls of the dragons that created it... really?"
"Are you telling me you can't feel anything from it Pete? Nothing at all? Nothing special? Not... anything?"
Part of him wanted to say yes, wanted to tell her that it was just like any normal modern day jewellery, and that he only wore it because it looked good, but he knew in an instant that it was impossible for him to lie, especially to her.
"No... there's certainly something that I can't explain radiating off it... but the souls of the dragons who created it? I'm pretty sure that's not it. And anyway, what makes you think it is? It's an odd thing to even consider, let alone say out loud," he said, trying to make light of the situation.
With that dreamy look on her face, Richie thought for a moment before saying,
"It's just that when I touch it, and look at it at the same time... that's when it screams out at me. I can see the dragons shaping the jewels, heating the metal, composing the mantras. It's almost as if I were there with them, witnessing it all for real. It sends shivers up my spine, my arms, my tail. I don't know how else to describe it."
Gently Peter uncurled Richie's fingers and tucked the alea and its chain back down behind his shirt, letting the dreamy look on Richie's face fade away, bringing her back to the present from somewhere in the past.
"The reason I wanted to talk to you..." she started. But before she could continue, Peter put his finger up to her lips.
"Shhhhhh," he whispered, grabbing her by the hand, leading her out into the hallway, without either Tank or Flash noticing. Still holding her hand, he guided her up the stairs and opened the door to his bedroom.
"Gosh Peter," she exclaimed. "This is all so unexpected. What's Janice going to think?"
It was only then that it dawned on him exactly how this could be taken to be something that it wasn't.
"Uhhh... well... ummm... well... I... ummm... errr... well... it's... um... not... er..."
Richie gave him a huge slap on the back.
"I know it's nothing like that! Come on Pete... where's your sense of humour?"
Well aware that he could probably have lit up half the town if his face looked only half as red as it felt, he gave a smile that appeared more like a grimace.
"Sorry Rich... I know. Just wasn't thinking, that's all."
"No harm done," she replied. "So why exactly am I here in this notorious den of iniquity?"
"Ahhhh... hang on a minute."
Clambering over his double bed, he jumped down onto the floor and opened up one of the doors to the wardrobe beyond, proceeding then to rummage around inside. After a little rustling and a few clothes being thrown on the floor, he began to pull out something altogether heavier. It was his grandfather's chest.
"Give us a hand will you, Rich?"
She came round to join him, and together they heaved the chest up onto the bed.
"I really wanted you to see this."
"I bet you use that line on all the laddiieeeesss you bring up here. Is that what worked on Janice? Do you want to come back to my house and see my... CHEST?!!!"
Even Peter thought that was funny, with the two of them laughing until tears rolled down their faces. Wiping away the moisture, he explained what it was and all about the king giving it to him, also telling her that nobody but the king knew what it contained, not even Tank or Flash.
One by one, Peter pulled all the objects out of the chest, placing them carefully on the bed, unable to hide the pride he felt for his grandfather when showing Richie the Flaming Cross. It wasn't often that Richie was lost for words, but she was and gave her friend a big hug, telling him what a wonderful dragon his grandfather must have been.
Skipping through the robes, the canister of 'Fox's Igniting Scale Enhancer' and the two giant sticks of charcoal, he pulled out the half sheet of newspaper. Reluctantly he explained what the king had told him about his parents. Richie sat and listened intently, well aware of how much pain it was causing her friend to even talk about the subject. If she'd been amazed at the revelation about the Flaming Cross, she was shocked to the core about Peter's parents supposedly colluding with the Nazis. More than a few tears were shed by Peter in telling the story, but it was only when he shared the burden he'd bottled up with one of his best friends that he realised the weight he'd been carrying and just quite how much it had been bothering him. Reaching into the, by now, almost empty chest, he pulled out something tiny, wrapped in a clean, but old piece of tissue paper and handed it to his friend.
"For you. I really want you to have it. I haven't had the opportunity to give it to you before now."
Slowly and carefully, Richie unwrapped the tissue paper, curious to see what it was. Like buses, the surprises were coming all at once today. Letting the tissue paper float to the floor, she held up the alea directly in front of her, allowing it to twirl of its own accord from the end of the silvery chain.
"I'm not sure I understand Pete. Why do you have two?"
He went on to explain how the one he was wearing had belonged to his grandfather and was identical in every way to the one that Mark Hiscock had left him in his will.
"Wow... some deity or other must really be watching over you for two of these to end up in your possession. What are the chances?"
"Tell me about it," replied Peter. "It just seems to be one thing after the other... not in a bad way of course... but I do wonder why it all seems to be happening to me. It's like all that stuff with Manson... why me? I'm scared stiff almost every time I walk down the hallway to open the front door, particularly if I think about it too much."
"I'm sorry Pete. That's really not what I meant to say. You do have a lot of things going on though, don't you?"
"That is something of an understatement, I think you'll find Rich. Anyhow, I feel a whole lot better talking to you about my parents. There are so many unanswered questions... it's all so mysterious. If I knew a little more, I might be able to put it all to the back of my mind... but when even the king can't find out any more than he has, you have to think there's something very dubious about it all."
Richie nodded her agreement.
"Well, perhaps I can help. You've told me enough to get started, with your permission of course, I'll see what I c
an dig up."
"Really, would you?"
"I can't make any promises Pete, you know that... but I'll do my best and see what I can find out for you."
"I can't begin to tell you just how much that means to me Rich. Thank you."
"You're welcome Pete, and thank you very much for the... gift," she said, smiling, while at the same time putting the alea around her neck, slipping the little ring through the chain's clasp.
"But before we join the others... I have something that I wanted to tell you, in fact the reason for coming to see you tonight." There was a long pause, not quite awkward, just intriguing. Folding her hands together in her lap whilst gazing at the pristine carpet, Richie thought long and hard about what she had to say. Eventually, after only a matter of seconds really, she looked up, straight into Peter's eyes.
"I've ditched Tim! There's no other way to say it. I've done what the council demanded. I didn't want to, but... on consideration, it does seem the only way to move forward. So there!"
Of all the things that he'd been expecting to hear, this was right at the bottom of his list, just below... 'I'm setting up a dragon colony on the moon. I think we can fly there under our own steam. I really think we can make it work.'
"I know it must have been difficult Rich, but I really think it's for the best. Consider Tim's point of view. He'll be growing old, while you will only appear to grow old. I'm sure if he knew he'd never go for that... would he?"
Richie nodded her agreement, two delicate tears sliding effortlessly in and out of the freckles on her cheeks.
"I know," she sniffed. "Anyway... it's done now. So let's just move on."
After a huge hug, both friends parted, about to go back downstairs when Richie stopped and pointed at the bottom of the trunk.