Each success made anger easier, but he was surprised the outcome was unpredictable. He’d already learned not to practice in the garage, not after he’d knocked half his dad’s tools off the workbench. Thank goodness Carlos had been the only one to hear, and his brother was far more concerned about getting the tools all back in their proper place than to worry about how he had knocked them all down. Instead, he’d taken to hiding behind buildings like the gym or the QuikMart where no one would see him.
Balor seemed satisfied with his progress, but it was hard to tell with the man. He knew how to please his parents, but the one-eyed man’s face remained as inscrutable as a rattlesnake. They experimented with a couple more emotions; sadness produced nothing but a brief wisp of cool air while he had absolutely no luck with happiness, although being around Balor made that emotion almost impossible.
The following Monday, Javier was waiting for him when he stepped off the bus. His tall, lanky friend slouched against a wall, a gloomy look on his face.
“Wassup?” he asked. “Did you forget to finish your history report or something?”
“Hey,” Javier said apprehensively. “Way worse. My mom’s making me go to Julieta’s birthday party on Friday.”
“Oh. That is bad.”
Julieta, Javier’s cousin, was the same grade. While he certainly enjoyed looking at her when she wasn’t watching, she had not acknowledged his presence since they were in fifth grade together and reading the Harry Potter series at the same time. Now she was all makeup, nails, and boys who scored goals in soccer. He could not imagine a more painful scenario for his friend than having to attend her birthday party.
“I, um, well…” Javier stuttered. “My mom said I could invite somebody. I was hoping you’d come.”
He swallowed a groan, knowing he’d have to say yes. After all, Javier had done the same for him at Carlos’s last three birthdays.
However, the relief and happiness on his friend’s face caused him to grin. At least neither of them would be alone.
♦ ♦ ♦
“Geez, Javier!” Miguel groaned as they edged down the stairs, ducking beneath party streamers and a big banner declaring ‘Happy Birthday!’ “Are we really going to have to listen to Bieber all night?”
His lanky friend glanced down at him. “Bieber? That’s DNCE!”
He rolled his eyes. Bieber or DNCE, he didn’t know the difference. What was he doing here? He was the wrong sort for this type of birthday party. Javier might be his best friend but dragging him to his cousin Julieta’s house…this was a nightmare. None of these kids ever noticed him at school. Why would they? He was just a gawky band nerd with funny orange hair.
For an hour, he shadowed Javier, as if his lanky friend’s shoulder would hide him from the glances that barely took him in. Julieta had obliged him with two sentences’ worth of attention, then returned to her pack. That was how they moved: a bunch of she-wolves giggling, waiting for one of the strutting alpha males to make his move and invite a girl to dance beneath the old disco ball that cast an ever-changing pattern of silver light around the basement.
Getting stuck dancing with the last girl left was probably what he was most afraid of, but even that would be better than having to talk to one of them. He had nothing to offer other than tales of his prowess playing World of Warcraft or Destiny. No impressive soccer battlefield injuries, no dance moves, and definitely no hidden alcohol.
Javier’s aunt, at least, helped limit some of the awkwardness by grabbing ears of couples whose faces were glued to each other and screeching, “What would your mother do if she found out I let this sort of thing go on?” He and Javier shared chuckles whenever it happened, but that was all they seemed to share. His tall friend, at least, knew how to say things to these kids, even if he bemoaned being forced to attend.
Finally, the pack was down to four girls, like a guard over the table of Doritos, M&Ms, and Coke that Julieta’s mom kept replacing. Javier took a deep breath and stepped toward the pack, leaving Miguel alone. Miserable, he looked for a corner to hide before he had to expose the twitchy movements he called dancing.
He beelined towards the shadows of a far corner, only to realize too late that someone was already there. Why hadn’t he noticed the girl sitting there? He hesitated, but her long, wavy hair caught his gaze. It was Irish orange like his. Her clothes, too, were unlike all the other girls. Rather than a colorful party dress, she wore a black t-shirt emblazoned with a Megadeth logo, black jeans, and black wristbands. She glanced up, and their eyes met. They were green, like his, but almost buried in a thick layer of eyeliner. For several moments, they just stared, but then she smiled.
Something surged through every muscle, like confidence made electric, and he smiled back. She didn’t fit either.
“Hey,” she said. Her voice lacked any silky edge, but it wasn’t aggressive, simply assured.
“Hey,” he said back, not certain what else to say.
“You’re that boy in band, aren’t you? The one who’s got Peña scared spitless.”
“He is?”
She laughed. It was rich like his mom’s but with just a hint of brogue, and he blushed, finally noticing how pretty she was. Then he placed her.
“You’re in my algebra class, aren’t you?”
“Back row in the corner. Best place to sit when no one wants to talk to you.”
“What are you doing here?” he said, then immediately thought, Oh crap, that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.
Her laugh was sharp and short. “I could say the same thing about you.”
His embarrassment burned as hot as his power ever had. “Sorry, that came out all wrong.” He pointed at the empty chair next to her. “Can I sit?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
What am I doing? What do I say to her?
“Um, I meant you don’t look like one of Julieta’s friends. I mean, well, you’re all in black. And what’s Megadeth anyways?”
She looked him over. He was glad she didn’t laugh at him.
“A band that plays way better music then the crap we’re being subjected to right now.”
“Oh.” His mind raced furiously, trying to keep the conversation going, but kept hitting dead ends.
“My name is Aileen, by the way. Aileen with an A. No one ever spells it right.”
“You’re Irish, aren’t you?”
“And your name is…?”
He was certain his face was now redder than his hair. The first time he’d worked up the courage to talk to a girl all year and he was blowing it.
“M…Miguel Martinez,” he managed to stammer. And now she’ll tell me to stay away from her.
“Well, Miguel Martinez, yes I’m Irish. The question is, what are you? I’ve never seen anyone like you.”
“Me? I’m a bit of everything. Irish, Mexican, Chinese. Navajo too, I think. A bit of a mutt, really. I don’t fit anywhere.”
She smiled again, and he thought his insides would collapse. She had to be the prettiest girl in his school when she smiled, and he couldn’t help but grin back. He instantly tried to hide it, certain it made him look even more like a dork. Then his stomach rumbled loudly, and she glanced down.
“Didn’t you get enough for dinner?”
“I…” he stammered. It wasn’t hunger making his stomach growl. After his lessons with Balor, he was certain his embarrassment was igniting his power.
“Do you wanna get some chips?” he asked hurriedly.
She shrugged, then rose to her feet. “You do. I just want some Coke.”
She said yes! he thought happily as he stood. Suddenly, his power surged and all the lights in the basement flickered.
“Woah!” she said, but he remained silent. Was that me? He knew it had to be, and he wondered if his momentary joy had caused the flicker.
No one gave them a second glance as they weaved past the pack of girls dancing beneath the disco ball. A mob of boys now hovered around the table stacked with treats and Cokes as if waiting f
or Julieta’s mother to drag them to the pack. Javier was at the edge of the mob, a nervous look on his face. Their eyes met, and his friend gaped at the sight of him with Aileen, then gave him a thumbs up.
She grabbed two cans while he piled a plate with samples of every candy and chip, then followed her back to their seats. She ignored the other girls completely, giving no indication she cared about them. By the time they sat, he was determined to not make an idiot of himself again in front of her.
He almost stuffed a handful of M&Ms into his mouth but caught himself.
Ask her a question, you moron!
“Um, so Aileen, how come you’re here?” Oh geez, could I have asked anything more stupid? To his surprise, however, it didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.
“My mother told me I’d been invited and said I had to go and meet at least one person, but I’m sure my father’s behind it all. He’s never happy unless he’s manipulating everything and everyone around him. I still can’t figure out what we’re doing in Arizona, but it’s no doubt part of one of his schemes.”
“So you’re not from here?”
She shook her head. “I was born in Ireland, but we moved to the States when I was little. Lived the last few years in a tiny town in New Mexico called Mountainair. I fit in there as poorly as I do here, always an outsider. Every vacation, we go visit the Pueblo ruins. Some life, huh?”
She stopped suddenly and stared at him, her eyes narrowing.
“Why am I telling you all this? I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody.”
He sat back, startled by her vehemence, but something pushed him to not give up.
“I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve never met anyone from Ireland before. Well, except for one weird old guy. My mom’s from there, it’s how I got this.” He reached up and ran his fingers through his unruly hair.
“What, you’re saying you really are Irish? I thought you just dyed your hair that way.”
It was his turn to laugh. “If my dad let me, I’d dye it black just to not look so different for once.”
“Oh,” was all she said and sat back in her chair. He did likewise and for a couple of awkward minutes, they just sat there drinking their pop and watching the others. A couple of braver boys had moved under the disco ball and seemed to dance with all the girls at once. No one gave them a second glance.
“So,” she suddenly, “Did you really throw Peña 20 feet at the All Souls Procession?”
“What? No!” he protested. “It wasn’t like that at all. It was…” He stopped. No one had asked him about that in a long time. “How did you know about it?”
She shrugged. “Everyone does, I guess. I suppose you really didn’t throw all those balls by yourself at Mr. Matthews either.”
“I’m…I’m not really sure how I did that.”
“So it’s true. Interesting.”
“Interesting? Me?”
Her cell beeped and she pulled it out, typed something quickly, then got up. He jumped up as well.
“My mom wanted to know if I’d met anyone yet. I said yes. Means I can go outside and wait for her to pick me up.”
“Can I wait with you?”
This time, it was Aileen who looked surprised. “Why would you wanna do that?”
“Um, well, you’re nice to talk to?” He phrased it as a question, hoping it was the right response.
“I suppose you better. My mom will believe me that way. Come on.”
She made her way to Julieta’s mom and thanked her before heading upstairs. He followed on her heels, hardly believing he’d spent so much time talking to a girl.
They waited mostly in silence, his mind racing to think of something intelligent to say, but everything that came to mind sounded stupid.
A pair of headlights swiveled onto the road. By the way she shifted, he was sure it was her mom.
“Hey Miguel,” she said suddenly. “Thanks.”
“For what?” he asked, grateful for any chance to talk to her some more.
“You didn’t run away. It was nice.”
“Oh. Um. You’re welcome.”
They fell silent again until the car pulled into the brick driveway.
“Hey Miguel?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna be at the mall on Saturday. Maybe I’ll see a movie. Maybe your parents will let you come. If they say yes, you can tell me in Algebra, okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’ya then.”
He watched as she opened the car door and climbed in. He caught a brief glance of her mom, who had long dark hair and large eyes. The two of them looked nothing alike. The door shut and Aileen waved goodbye. He returned the wave as the car backed out of the driveway, then watched until it was out of sight.
He sighed, feeling strangely contented, then burped. The pink gravel on either side of the brick driveway scattered among the rosewood and sage shrubs.
“Oops!” he said, absently turning back into the house and slowly descending the stairs in a happy, dreamy state.
A girl asked me out! A really pretty girl!
Walking across the basement, he was oblivious as to whether the other kids did or didn’t notice him as he returned to the chairs where he and Aileen had been sitting. Half the chips and candy still remained on his plate and he spent the remainder of the evening sitting there, staring at the disco ball, as unaware of the music as he was of anyone speaking to him until Javier finally shook him, telling him it was time to go.
His friend’s forehead was quite damp, and he smiled as broadly as Miguel. Neither spoke except to politely say thanks to Julieta and her mom until they clambered into the back seat of Javier’s car.
“Did you boys have a good time, then?” Javier’s mom asked.
“Yeah,” answered Javier slowly, then sighed and looked out the window.
“Good time,” Miguel answered just as slowly, and exhaled as well before turning his attention to the other window. It wasn’t until he’d said goodnight to them both that he realized his friend must have had an experience similar to his own. He grinned as he opened the front door.
His parents snuggled on the big sofa watching some crime show. He didn’t bother to try to find out what it was, but simply strolled towards his room.
“Hey bud!” his dad hollered. “How’d it go?”
“Miguel?” his mom asked when he didn’t answer immediately. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, hi mom. Hi dad. Yeah, I’m fine. Actually, I’m really happy.”
“Oh my god,” his dad said. “He’s met a girl!”
Interlude 3
The Lone Dragon Theory
Dragons have long been considered by the wise of the world to be mythological creatures, thus proving how little the wise truly know.
Many have theorized that dragons may have been the last vestiges of dinosaurs that somehow survived the millennia. While it is possible that dragons may have evolved from dinosaurs, the fossil evidence is missing several links; way too many, in fact, to prove this is more than speculation.
Others have conjectured that dragons are no more than embodiments of primitive man’s fears and superstitions, that they have no more basis in fact than Beowulf’s Grendel. Indeed, there is not only plausibility to this theory, but true evidence in both Chinese literature and in the invocation of dragons by emperors of certain dynasties as their symbol. However, this theory presupposes there is no basis of physical evidence. That is where it falls flat.
There is another school of thought, one that is outright rejected by science and laughed at by academics. Theologians of most religions treat it as heresy or even blasphemy while archeologists immediately point to the lack of corroborating evidence. However, those who have examined all the available information are increasingly coming to the same conclusion: dragons—as a race—existed at some time in antiquity and a single dragon has lived among us for at least the past 800 years. Unfortunately, the mere mention of this theory is enough for a proponent to be exiled from t
he scientific or academic communities. Already, five professors in American and British universities have been dismissed outright, their careers ruined.
For example, it was long believed that Zhu Yuan Zhang, the Hongwu Emperor who established China’s Ming Dynasty in 1368, merely invoked the dragon as a symbol of his right to rule. However, in the 1940s, a professor at Cambridge began to wonder why the emperor ordered the portrayal of dragons altered to have five toes instead of four. A search was begun briefly in Peking, but this ended abruptly with the Communist takeover in 1949. Further evidence was not forthcoming until after Chairman Mao’s death in 1976, evidence the Chinese government has since attempted to eradicate.
In the aftermath of Mao’s death, Jiang Zai Liu, a former professor prior to the Cultural Revolution, escaped to Hong Kong and revealed the ancient documents he had saved during the purge of 1966. The most important of these spoke of an actual Mandate of Heaven that was presented to Zhu in front of all his generals by a “pale woman with flowing red hair.” According to Professor Liu, the documents speak of the woman’s transformation into a mighty red dragon after delivering the mandate, but Zhu’s son ordered the records be hidden deep within the Forbidden City following the emperor’s death in 1398, where they lay untouched for nearly 600 years.
A second example is the Heimskringla, the greatest collection of epic Old Norse stories, written in Iceland by Snorri Sturluson about 1230 CE. In the late 1990s, a manuscript was discovered that predates all other known versions by a century and may even be original. In this early version, there is no mention of King Harald Bluetooth's servant meeting the benevolent dragon; it appears the entire scene was added by the time of the first translation in 1633. Translator Peder Friis was known to rely heavily on the Jofraskinna manuscript that Queen Margaret of the Nordic Union (1387-1412) was known to have commissioned. During the years between her marriage at ten years old until her rise to power a dozen years later, she was tutored by a woman described in almost an identical manner to the one who appeared to the Hongwu Emperor, and the queen’s fascination with benevolent dragons was well known to her court. Certainly, one can connect the dots.
Blood of the Dragon Page 24