by N. A. Hydes
He found the census for 1950—the document listed Josephine English as a seven-year-old child of MaryAnn and Robert English, and one of five other kids. But Josephine was five years younger than her next oldest sibling. Sometimes a man remarried after losing his wife. Petr needed to find an earlier census.
He found a census for 1940. Robert and Carolina English were the parents of eight children. This meant that MaryAnn was the second wife. Josephine might have been the daughter of MaryAnn, possibly the only child of MaryAnn. If that was true, then MaryAnn could be the dragon line.
Petr found MaryAnn in a census, listed as the oldest daughter of John and Mildred Collins. So MaryAnn had siblings. He drew a single red line through MaryAnn. It was doubtful this line led back to a dragon ancestor.
Petr looked down at his watch. It was approaching closing time. He walked up to the receptionist and had to clear his throat again to get her attention.
“Excuse me, is there a hotel nearby?” Petr asked.
“Not here or in White Pines. If you need a hotel, I suggest heading towards Interstate 74, towards Charlotte,” she responded without looking up.
“Thank you. I will be back tomorrow.” He grabbed his papers and book bag and left in search of a hotel.
15
Wednesday
Jennifer stared at the ceiling. Her emotions felt like balls of confusion. Sadness filled her; why wasn’t she good enough? Why wasn’t she loved? Her hormones felt out of control, and she reached to her side to see if someone was beside her, someone to love, someone to hold, someone to seduce.
Jennifer felt tears well up in her eyes. None of these emotions belonged to her. She blinked again. She had dreamed of her great-grandmother, MaryAnn Collins. The emotions Jennifer felt couldn’t have belonged to her happy-go-lucky great-grandmother, either. Jennifer had never seen a frown on her GG’s face. The dream had to be a weird interpretation of something she did the day before.
Jennifer blinked several times in wild succession. What had she done yesterday? She couldn’t remember.
And in the dream, her great-grandmother had a different father–a secret father. Could MaryAnn Collins have been born MaryAnn Sowards? That would be a huge family secret, and Jennifer couldn’t see anyone keeping that one. It had to be a lie.
She stretched, trying to force the memories and the feelings out of her mind. At least this dream couldn’t have been real. Jennifer had never heard of the last name Sowards before. Her mom would have told her the story if it was true. And if not her mother, then her grandmother, or MaryAnn herself, since her great-grandmother was still alive and very much sane.
The room was dark, but she recognized the area as her childhood bedroom.
She tried to remember the day before. She knew she was Jennifer Wright.
Jennifer thought she remembered playing a board game for hours and then going to the movies with a boy named Matt. They met her brother, Randy, at the theater. Matt and Randy seemed to get along. Jennifer’s mother drove her and Randy from South Holt University to their house. Randy teased her throughout the drive about having a boyfriend.
It seemed so long ago, yet it was yesterday.
Jennifer threw the covers off her body and moved her legs. As she walked down the hall, the real yesterday finally made its way into her mind and into her reality. MaryAnn, although still there, was fading.
16
Che-non
The cell phone ringing woke Petr, who was in a dreamless sleep. He reached for the phone with eyes still closed and managed, barely, to grab it.
“Hello,” he answered, rubbing his eyes.
“Petr. Have you found the young dragon yet?” Che-non was also researching human-born dragons, in a ruined temple in the Himalayas. They were all hoping that the ancient scrolls would contain information on finding, recovering, and protecting the young ones.
“No, I’ve been searching. Do we have a Nose who can fly over with you?” A Nose was a person or dragon who could smell if a person was a dragon.
“Yes, but it will take a few weeks to get there.”
Petr sat up, his eyes open. “Why so long?”
“The way is treacherous. A mudslide has taken out the road.”
“Why not send someone who can fly?”
“Can’t do. I’m not at Dernogard or anywhere close. And you know the dragons in Dernogard will not risk running into an Immortal. I had to walk for a few days just to find a phone. It will take a few days to find Kamar. He went on a spiritual retreat or something. I already had plans to meet him in a nearby city. One of the other dragons let me know there was an Awakening near you. He used the code word, ‘earthquake’, like we agreed to use. Or I wouldn’t have even known to call you. The note was sent by a messenger pigeon. I didn’t know those still existed or would work. Anyway, Kamar is the only Nose anywhere available, and he is a water serpent. He can’t fly.” Petr had heard of Kamar and knew he was helping search for information.
“Che-non, I’m sure the Immortals are heading this way as we speak. They have to have heard the Awakening.”
“I know. But it is the best we can do. Do your best to find and protect the little one. It will take the Immortals a while to discover who the dragon is as well.”
Petr sighed. “Sure,” he replied and hung up the phone. He looked at his watch, where he saw it was five a.m.
Petr felt confident Jennifer did not have any dragon on her mother’s side. When the hotel alarm clock went off, he would dress and head back to Cherryville Records Office. Today he should be able to mark her off his list.
Wednesday’s search looked more promising as he researched Jennifer’s father’s lineage. The Wright family had single-child families going back to when they moved from Ohio to Cherryville, North Carolina, in 1836. It looked like the paternal next leg of the trail was in Ohio.
Tonight, Petr would go back to Charlotte and grade the papers, since the public building would be closed for Thanksgiving. He could return to Cherryville on Friday to finish his research. In the meantime, he wished there was a way to watch both Jennifer and Matt.
17
Thursday, Robert Sowards
Jennifer sat straight up in her bed. “What a dream! I could use some giggle water!” She looked around the room. Her body trembled. “I have the heebie-jeebies,” she muttered as she frowned and touched her breast. “This is the bee’s knees; I’m a hotsy-totsy girl.” Even the voice was feminine.
Jennifer could remember looking in the mirror to shave every morning. She touched her face. There was no stubble. The room looked familiar, so she walked over to the dresser and glanced at the mirror. A name appeared for the face looking back at her: Jennifer.
Like a flood, Jennifer’s own memories came rushing into her. She breathed with a deep gasp. It was like she had two timelines. One timeline held her own personal life experience. The other experiences belonged to Robert.
In one timeline, Jennifer remembered being a boy named Robert, growing up in a small building, like Little House on the Prairie, only smaller.
In the other timeline, when she was about the same age, Jennifer remembered being a girl attending church with her mother and watching cartoons with her brother, Randy.
Jennifer remembered fishing with Robert’s buddy, Ruddy Belcher.
She remembered having an eating contest with her brother Randy at Krystal.
And like that, she was Jennifer Wright, not Robert Sowards.
Jennifer walked back over to the bed and sat down to reflect on her last two nights. In yesterday’s dream, when Jennifer lived as her great-grandmother, Jennifer had seen Robert Sowards as a father. In last night’s dream, she was a younger and happier Robert Sowards, very different from the father of MaryAnn.
But in tonight’s dream, Robert was attracted to the flapper babe with sexy gams, and married her. Jennifer couldn’t help it; she felt the attraction and remembered the way Mildred had curves in the right places. Was she attracted to girls now?
An
image of Dr. Smith appeared in her mind. He was handsome, attractive. It filled Jennifer with longing for Dr. Smith and his intense eyes.
Jennifer had to think of something other than pondering what it would be like to touch Dr. Smith.
What had changed Robert Sowards, if he was an actual person, from a loving, fun man to a strict, distant father, she wondered? She moved over to the computer sitting on the desk, hoping to find an answer. Quickly, she found a reference to the stock market crash of October 29, 1929. Black Tuesday had brought about the Great Depression.
She searched the internet for Ruddy Belcher, amazed to find some hits, but nothing from the period of her dream. There was a county in eastern Kentucky named Belcher. She searched for Robert Sowards and found a golfer that didn’t resemble the man in her dream.
Distracted from her thoughts by the smell of food, Jennifer’s stomach rumbled. It was Thanksgiving, and her mom was making lunch.
18
The Promise
Petr’s Memory
“Promise me,” Roz said as she sat the bowl of soup in front of Petr. Steam rose from the top.
“Promise you what?” Petr looked out over the lake, letting the soup cool. The full moon had a red tint as it rested slightly above the water. The sun was setting to the west, and it was aflame.
Roz sat down beside Petr on the table and chairs he had made. She put her head on his shoulder.
Petr did his best not to look at his sister. Since Perun’s death, she had refused to eat, until her skin hung from her bones, and her beautiful features had sunk back into her head. Yet her stomach continued to grow. It was a reminder she would die soon.
“Promise me to watch my child, to raise him,” she whispered.
“Roz, we have been through this. You will raise the baby. This is your child.” Petr took a bite of the soup. It was warm and felt good. Even though it was late spring, the days were still cold.
“No, Petr. I am staying alive just for the child to be born. My heart, my heart is broken.”
“Please don’t.” Petr turned to look at his sister. She was wearing a scarf over her ears to keep them warm, and only a wisp of her hair was visible. “Roz, I can’t stand to lose you.”
“Petr, I will do my best, just promise.”
“Roz, I will take care of you and my nephew,” he said, smiling, “or niece. I won’t leave you.”
“There is more, Petr.” She looked so sick. Petr tried not to show his fear when he looked at her. She urged him to drink up. Petr took the wood bowl to his mouth, finishing the liquid.
“Perun told me it might be hundreds of years, but it would happen. One day the blood will run true, and a baby will be born like Perun.”
“The baby will be a dragon?” Petr stared at her, unbelieving.
“Someday, one of my descendants will be a dragon. It is why I gave you the powder.”
“What are you talking about, Roz, my love?”
“When you weren’t looking, I cut out his heart. I cut out Perun’s heart. I dried it and put it in your food. Please don’t be angry.”
Petr could say nothing.
Perun, Roz’s husband, had died while she was only a few months pregnant. Petr had found Perun, as a dragon, dying. Dead men with broken weapons surrounded him. He had won the battle but had lost his life.
Petr had lived with Perun and Roz for many years before Perun’s truth had come out. Slowly, he accepted that his brother-in-law was not human. Petr loved Perun. And that love had caused the three of them to leave the tribe of Petr’s youth.
“Perun told me, whoever holds a dragon’s heart will live forever. I held his heart for so long. I thought it would be us forever.” Her eyes looked far away before she coughed.
“Roz, go into the hut. Go get warm.”
She struggled to stop coughing. “No, there is one more thing.”
“What?” he asked.
“If you head south, in the mountains, Perun told me there is another family of dragons. They will help you. Promise me you will take my child to the mountains.”
“Roz, go into the hut.”
“Promise me, Petr!” Her cheeks were red from the effort of talking.
“Okay, Roz, I promise. I will take care of you and your child.”
“And all our generations, until the one is born who is like Perun.”
“Okay, Roz. Please go in.”
She started coughing as she went into the hut.
The pot of boiling water brought Petr out of his memories and back to his kitchen. He stood up and made a cup of green tea from the boiling water. Today was Thanksgiving. He would take the day off and enjoy football.
19
The Grands
After grabbing a piece of ham, Jennifer strolled to her room for a nap. Sleep avoided her as she looked out the window. Images of early 20th century New York City filled her mind. Jennifer was puzzled that she felt she could find her way around that city. Maybe, during spring break, she could go to New York.
With a grunt, she threw off her blanket.
Jennifer’s maternal grandmother and great-grandmother had arrived yesterday, as they traditionally left their house in a Florida retirement community to visit for Thanksgiving.
Affectionately, Jennifer and Randy called them the “Grands.” It seemed appropriate. The community they lived in was called Grand Bahamian, and they were old, grandly old.
The dreams had been of Jennifer’s maternal ancestors. Surely, if anyone would know if the dreams were real, it would be the Grands. Jennifer jumped out of bed, dressed quickly, and ran to the guest bedroom where the Grands stayed. She knocked on their door.
“Who’s beating on our door like it is a piece of dough?” one of the Grands said. “I’m a-comin’.”
Jennifer heard shuffling.
The door opened, and Jennifer was staring at her great-grandmother, MaryAnn, wearing a brown dress with white flowers. Her hair, silver now, was pulled back on her head in a bun. She was fragile and hunched slightly at the shoulders. Her eyes were still bright, and her mind sharp as a tack.
In a strange revelation, Jennifer seemed to notice for the first time how much shorter MaryAnn was than her. MaryAnn was maybe five feet three inches.
“Now, what has got your panties in a wad?” MaryAnn asked.
“May I talk to you and Grandmommy?” Jennifer stood at the door.
MaryAnn stepped out of the way and allowed Jennifer to pass.
The guest bedroom, once the master bedroom, sported a sitting area and bathroom. It was large enough to contain two twin beds beside each other with nightstands on either side, a chest, a vanity with a mirror, a rocking chair, and a chaise lounge.
“What do you want to talk about?” Josephine asked while brushing her white wavy hair. She weighed more than MaryAnn and was slightly taller. She was wearing a blue dress that hung just past her knees and cowboy boots, and she smiled with her entire face at Jennifer.
“Me,” Jennifer started. “I mean, you.” The Grands had quizzical stares. Josephine sat down on the rocking chair in the room, and MaryAnn moved to the bed. Jennifer plopped down on the floor.
“I’m old, dear; you’ll have to be slow, because you’ve already confused me,” Josephine said.
“Is anyone in our family psychic?” Jennifer asked.
“Why do you ask, dear?” MaryAnn responded.
Jennifer watched the clock on the wall to her right. It ticked and tocked twice before she answered. “Because…” Jennifer paused, forcing courage. “I have strange dreams. They seem so real.”
“Oh,” said Josephine. “Well, tell us your dreams. Maybe we can interpret them, like Joseph of the coat of many colors.”
“Well…” Jennifer tried to think about how to describe her dreams. “The first dream seemed real. Like I was there. It was of this man who was in a castle with this girl who looked like a princess. He walked her down some stairs into a vast, warm, slightly sulfuric-smelling room, where she was married.
&nbs
p; “The next day, not in the dream, but with Matt at a restaurant, I met a man who looked just like the man in my dream. Not the one who married the girl, but the one who walked the girl to the groom. He turned out to be one of the college professors.”
“Jennifer, are you sweet on one of your professors?” MaryAnn teased with a smile. “I’m not sure that new beau of yours will like that. I would keep this dream to yourself.”
“No, I just found it odd that I hadn’t met him, dreamed of him, and then met him.” Jennifer continued, “Then, I had a dream about Mom and Dad meeting. In the dream, I was Mom. It was very bizarre,” Jennifer relayed. “Then, I dreamed about you, Grandmommy. I was surrounded by a large family on a farm.”
“You knew I had a lot of brothers and sisters,” Josephine responded.
“Did you meet Granddaddy in a hayloft? He was visiting one of your nephews. You had played a prank on your nephew, and he wanted to throw you into a creek? I dreamed you were sitting in a hayloft hiding. Granddaddy came up and told you what beautiful eyes you had?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes,” Josephine responded. “But Jennifer, that was your Grandfather’s favorite story—his troublemaking wife. He was the handsomest man I ever did see, romantic as any, I reckon. But once again, your mom knows the story. She probably told it to you.”
Jennifer quickly added, “The other night, I dreamed of you, GG. You were in Kentucky. Your dad was a coal miner named Robert Sowards. Your mother, Mildred, left him to be with the pastor, John Collins,” Jennifer addressed MaryAnn.