by Paul Cude
With the group all seated, a different waiter took their drinks order and promptly disappeared towards the small bar at the front of the restaurant. The banter, and it was banter being mid evening on a Saturday, with lots of beers and the like having already been consumed by everyone with the possible exception of Richie and Janice, turned to the respective sports played by everyone. Hockey and lacrosse players ganged up on the rugby boys (except Richie, who was still considering the day's events in her mind) goading them about how slow their sport was, supposedly. Poppadoms arrived without having to be ordered, along with two glasses of water and a table full of beer. As the friends mulled over their selection of food from the worn, tattered, plastic menus, talk turned to the missing Peter and Tank.
"So Richie, what's up with the big man today? Never known him to miss training, let alone a match."
The whole group quietened significantly (no mean feat considering how many drinks they'd all had) and listened to what the lacrosse captain had to say.
"Not really sure what I can tell you Hook. I'm as surprised as you are. I've tried phoning both Tank and Peter to find out why they didn't show, as I'm sure Janice has with Peter, but with no luck," she ventured, trying not to look in Janice's direction. "It's unusual for sure, and I've no explanation. As well, I confess to being more than a little worried."
"I've phoned and left messages, but heard nothing so far," added Janice.
"In my experience, these things always appear worse than they actually are. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation. We can't see what it is at the moment, but I'm sure in a couple of days when everything becomes clear, we'll all be laughing about this," slurred Angela, one of Richie's lacrosse teammates.
"Maybe," whispered Richie, as the waiter arrived to take their food order.
With the overpowering sound of Indian music in the background, on top of the noise from the throng of overly enthusiastic Saturday night patrons, Richie found it hard to concentrate. She was worried, and not just a little. For a while now things seemed to have been... not so much wrong, just not right! Unable to put her finger on what it was exactly, the one thing that was clear to her was the importance of her relationship with Peter and Tank. In fact, it probably went beyond important. Pivotal, instrumental, significant, key... but key to what? Recalling memories of the three of them together, things were a little hazy, fuzzy around the edges even, but even though she couldn't remember clearly, deep down inside her, her soul stirred. Just the thought of her friends sent a tingle down her back and goose bumps up both arms. Threatening to overpower her, the nagging sensation she'd been feeling all day was starting to get worse. Unfortunately for her, the only people in the world she trusted enough to confide in about it were missing and the cause of her angst. Sitting in this aromatic restaurant with teammates and friends... she felt truly lost and alone. All this and more whistled through her head as she fingered the ring which the necklace traversed. Glancing up and down the table, she felt disconnected from the group she sat with. They all looked so happy and bubbly. For the most part it was a lie, she knew, or at least an exaggeration, the alcohol enhancing the mood of everyone... well, almost. A fleeting look at the far end of the table showed Janice, looking utterly miserable. In fact, she thought, Janice looked how she, Richie, felt. Perhaps the two of them had more in common than they ever dared to admit.
As the evening continued to pass, for what felt like an age to the lacrosse captain, more beer arrived, accompanied by starters and then main courses. Richie barely touched any of hers. It just didn't seem important. By now the nagging sensation had almost turned into a compulsion, but a compulsion to do what? She could almost feel the blood pumping through her veins, her heart beat so wildly. Having spent the last forty minutes or so twiddling with the ring, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take the necklace off and place the ring in the palm of her hand. It was dull, matt grey, with beautiful blue, tiny little triangles running around the outside of it. In fact she had barely registered that she was now holding it. If she had, then maybe her promise to Peter would have swum to the surface of her thoughts.
As the others drank and ate merrily, all apart from Janice who continued to stare glumly into the bottom of her half empty glass of water, Richie held the outside of the ring with the thumb and index finger of her left hand, and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. Instinctively, she depressed the raised grey triangle. THE WORLD EXPLODED! Richie's chair shot back, tossing her to the floor with a resounding THUMP, causing the entire restaurant to look round, as rugby, hockey and lacrosse players all jumped up from their chairs to go to her aid. Curled up in the foetal position on the sticky, patterned carpet, she just about managed to bark out, "STAY BACK!", before being overwhelmed by the images coursing through her mind. The phrase 'life flashing before your eyes' could have been invented for just this moment.
As her friends stood around her not knowing what to do, beautiful blue triangles on the ring shifted and glowed fiercely.
"We need to help her," urged one of the hockey players, taking a step forward.
An arm built like a tree trunk sprang out in front of him.
"Not so fast. You heard what she said," growled Hook. "She said to stay back, and that's what we're all gonna do. Understand?"
Fuelled by more than a little Dutch courage, the hockey player stood face to face with the strapping rugby player. Well... not exactly face to face, more like face to... sternum.
"Clearly she's in pain. We need to help her," he slurred.
"Listen sonny, you've no idea who you're dealing with here. If she says stay back... then you stay back. If she says, 'Dance like Take That,' then you say, 'Which one do you want me to be?' For the time being, we watch over her, take care of her and most importantly, do exactly what she asks. Do you understand?"
As the hockey player averted his gaze from Hook's angry scowl, he just about managed to whisper,
"Sure, whatever you think's best."
By now, Richie was constantly moaning and wailing, all the time rolled up into a tight ball on the floor next to the table.
All looking at one another, the friends tried to gauge if they were doing the right thing. Each and every one of them, except perhaps the hockey player, knew all about Richie. Knew that she wasn't one to be messed with, knew to have her approval and friendship was something to be cherished. And knew, above all, that if you were going to trust anyone with your life... it would have to be her. That's just how it was.
Images of massive eggs, dragons hatching and the feeling of warmth pervaded her every thought. She tried to block them out, tried to pull the ring off her finger... but she just couldn't. Dragon and human shapes walked side by side. There appeared to be a school. No... she knew what it was called: nursery ring. That was it... nursery ring. How did she know what it was called? After all, only the images continued to assault her mind, no words... nothing. A feeling of warmth instantly washed over her, as if somehow she'd been transported to a tropical island at the hottest point of the day. She wanted nothing more than to rip her clothes off, that's how hot it was, but she was totally paralysed. Just as she thought it might be wearing off, a kind of weightlessness took over, causing her to feel sick. Really, really sick. Before she could actually be sick, she realised what was happening. She was FLYING! And had wings and... SCALES. As the sun shone down from the bright blue sky, her body basked in its warmth. It was the best feeling she'd ever experienced. Except, now... she had started to remember. The images changed, starting to come thicker and faster. Her breathing increased, sweat poured from every part of her and her heart felt as if it were going to come crashing out through her chest.
For the most part, the other customers in the restaurant had gone back to their meals. This was mainly down to the fact that Hook had told them to in no uncertain terms. He was not somebody you wanted to get on the wrong side of.
One of the waiters, a youngster of
no more than eighteen, approached the group tentatively. They all recognised him as one of the hockey club's outstanding talents, called Taibul, who always attended training and played for the most part in the second XI.
"Would you like us to call an ambulance for your friend?" he managed to stutter, all the time wary of Hook's presence.
"Not at the moment... thanks," replied one of the lacrosse girls politely.
Taibul wandered carefully back towards the kitchen, making sure not to look back. Emma, one of Richie's closest friends on the lacrosse team, leaned across to Hook and whispered,
"How long can we leave her like this? At some point, someone's bound to call either an ambulance or the police. And who's to say it's not the right thing to do? She looks in a massive amount of pain."
Before Hook could respond, Janice interjected.
"I was watching her as it happened. She'd been fiddling with the ring that had been on the necklace. She took it off the necklace and after a little more fiddling, slipped it on her finger. The instant she did so... that was what happened."
"You're saying it's the ring causing all this?" replied Emma, incredulous.
"I'm just telling you what happened."
"Whatever it is," interrupted Hook, "we give her the time she needs. I don't know her as well as Tank and the hockey player... what's his name... Peter. But I know her character. I've seen some of the things she's done and I'd trust her with my life. And I can't say that about too many people."
Others in the group nodded their agreement with what Hook had just said.
Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall back into place. A world with... DRAGONS! Not only that... but she was one of them, at least, that's what it was starting to look like. Hair caked in sweat, distantly, she was aware of her surroundings, the group of people, the restaurant, the diners, but it all seemed so far away that it might as well have been on another planet. More images flashed through her head. Her home, her work at Cropptech, a threat, from not too long ago. A relationship. No a taboo. An explosion, saved by the skin of her teeth. And a loss. A loss of something so familiar. And then the priests. In her house. It all merged into one now. How the priests had removed her memories, her past. Now she remembered it all. Who she was. Who she really was. She was a dragon, and not just any dragon. It all came flooding back to her, along with a torrent of righteous anger. Rage and fury at how unjustly she'd been treated. Anger at not being trusted. And then something else shimmered into existence. Something... familiar. It was like a scene from a film. An open air bazaar, a place she knew well, flittered into view. Dragons lay dead in huge pyres, round and about. Other dragons had been rounded up and sat surrounded by deadly looking guards with murderous intent in their eyes. Smack bang in the middle of the bazaar, a crude form of gallows had been erected. A steel frame, hastily put together, overshadowed everything else. What she saw filled her with dread. Using everything she had, she tried desperately to push the depiction from her mind. Blinking her eyes, desperate for it to be over, desperate to return to the reality of the restaurant, an overwhelming sense of doom flooded through her. Still the vision invaded her. Swinging from the makeshift gallows, two male human forms could just be seen, naked but for their underwear, swinging gently backwards and forwards. Blood dripped off their bare torsos, forming eye catching puddles of bright red below on the cobbles. Huge cuts and scars adorned them from head to toe, front to back. Their faces looked as though an elephant had sat on them. They were barely recognisable. But recognise them she did. They were her friends. At first she was sure that it was Peter and Tank she was looking at. But the images, in their own way, became clearer, sharper and, well, just kind of zoomed in. When they did, it was clear who was hanging from the ugly, dark, steel frame. Tank dangled from the left side of the monstrosity, looking like a gruesome, oversized, human, horror dolly. On the right as she viewed the fearsome scene, Flash, friend and ex-Crimson Guard, swung precariously, barely conscious. Off to one side, a dragon Richie knew cracked a vicious looking magical whip, inflicting yet another deep cut to Tank. CASEY! One time tormentor of Peter, and a former nursery ring class mate of all three of them.
Without warning, the images of her friends being tortured started to fade, but not before she caught the briefest glimpse of Tim, being dragged off into the shadows somewhere.
'Tim,' she thought, barely able to contain the tears that threatened to flood out of her. She'd had no memory of her relationship with Tim. And yet he'd meant so much to her. Momentarily, her resolve wavered just a little as she thought about not going through with what she had planned, leaving the dragon domain to deal with their own problems. But wish as she might that she could, she knew deep down that she simply had to go. After all, she was a dragon, despite what they'd done to her. Above all though, her friends were in dire trouble and anyone who knew her well would know that she'd lay down her own life for her friends in the blink of an eye. With a dragon's strength of purpose, Richie called forth information on the nearest access point to the dragon world. Very different images flooded into her mind. A church, two high street shops, a takeaway pizza outlet, a children's park, a disabled toilet and...
'Yes,' she thought, 'that's the one.' Closing her eyes, to her relief, it just went dark. No unwanted pictures, images, or thoughts. In the restaurant around her, she could just make out the clang of cutlery over a chain of whispered voices. Sensing the group of friends watching over her, she knew she had a lot to thank them for... lesser people might well have called the authorities in some way, shape or form. But what must they think? A good question, but one that she really didn't have time for at the moment. If everything she'd seen was true, then time really was of the essence. Uncurling, she slowly sat up, her brown curly hair matted with sweat. Audible sighs of relief resounded around the small group.
"You okay Richie?" whispered Hook, with more tenderness than his hulking great frame would have implied.
"I'm fine guys... really. Thanks to all of you for... looking out for me."
"What happened?" asked Emma.
Richie jumped to her feet, albeit looking more than a little shaky.
"I don't have time to explain now. But I will at some point. I'm sorry."
The group looked heartbroken after all they'd done. Across the restaurant, Richie caught a glimpse of Taibul, a familiar face from the hockey club, and beckoned him over with her right index finger. Obligingly he came straight away. The others made way for him.
"I need a torch Taibul, and a... knife. A really, really big knife. Perhaps the biggest that you have. Do you think you can help me?"
Nodding enthusiastically, the young lad turned and headed off towards the kitchen. Again, it was Hook who spoke up.
"What's going on Richie?"
The lacrosse playing dragon, as that what she now was despite the human form she was stuck in, turned to face the man mountain of a rugby player.
"There's something I have to do. And I need to do it now. I know things seem a little odd, but I'll try and explain later. I promise."
Hook paused, not sure how to respond.
"This has something to do with Peter and Tank doesn't it?" demanded Janice.
Richie turned to face the cute blonde, her expression wavering.
"I really can't say any more... I'm sorry."
Janice shook her head in frustration.
"You can be as sorry as you like, but I'm coming with you."
"I'm really sorry Janice, but this is something I have to do alone."
"Then you'll be needing that knife to stop me," replied the young bar worker, steely eyed.
'I really don't have time for all this,' thought Richie, watching Taibul argue with some of the kitchen staff through the small window in the kitchen door.
"Is this about Tank and Peter?" asked Hook.
"Are they in trouble?" enquired Emma.
"I really don't have time for all this!" exclaimed Richie, frustrated. Trying to walk through the group towards the kitchen doors
, she was surprised when a large hand grabbed her bicep. Stopping, she gazed up at Hook. Her expression could have turned most to stone, but he wasn't perturbed.
"They're our friends as well. There's nothing I wouldn't do for the big man. Whatever's going on... you need our help."
Richie tried to wriggle free of his vice-like grip, but he was simply too strong.
"You of all people should know how a group working together can achieve more than any one individual. If I've heard Peter tell me about hockey and teamwork and how it was you who got him into it all, once, then I've heard it a thousand times. He believes it with a passion. And I believe it because he believes it," muttered Janice, her voice starting to wobble.
Richie stared at the other woman, incredulous.
"She's right Richie," added Hook, easing his grip on her arm. "If they're in trouble, then I'm coming as well."
The others in the group all agreed with Hook, apart from the hockey player who'd wanted to call the ambulance, slurring something about having to get home and look after his sick mum, clearly too drunk to know exactly what was going on. One of the lacrosse girls opted out, with Simon the rugby player declining to help as well.
Taibul returned holding a powerful torch, and the mother of all kitchen knives, bigger and sharper than any of them had ever seen.
"Uhhhh... we're going to need more knives and flashlights if you have them. Please..."
Smiling enthusiastically, the young lad darted back off in the direction of the kitchen. Hook asked what the others were all thinking.
"How much trouble are they in?"
"And we want the truth," demanded Janice.
Over the last few minutes, Richie had gained a new respect for the young girl. Turning to them all, and with her most serious voice, she said,
"The truth is... they're in planet changing trouble."
If anyone else had said this, then it would have been taken with a pinch of salt. But it was Richie, and she was deadly serious. Each and every one of them were more than a little taken aback.