“No, it didn’t. Those old myths do tend to reflect good moral principles though, don’t they?”
“Well, depends on what myth and what principle, I suppose. You have any particular ones in mind?”
“I was thinking about the one typically associated with Saint George.”
“I guess I am not familiar with that one,” the old man said, sensing a rusty gate starting to close in behind him.
The reverend laughed and then said, “You know the one: do not meddle in the affairs of dragons.”
“Oh, that one! Yes, I can see the wisdom in that, but my favorite is from an old, old book you might be familiar with, considering your vocation. ‘Michael and his angels fought with the dragon; and the dragon and his angels fought, but they did not prevail, nor was a place found for them in heaven any longer.’ You know that one, don’t you? Seems between the two moral principles we share that the conclusion to the matter would be dragons need to be careful what they consider their affairs because if they don’t, angels will whip their ass. It’s good to see you, Reverend Long. Will you be joining us for story time?”
The old man was unaware that the atmosphere in the library had changed. He probably would not have noticed for several more minutes but was made forcibly aware when a rubber ball flew through the air and hit Reverend Long in the chest. The old man pretended to scowl and looked around for the culprit, even though he knew immediately who had thrown the ball and wasn’t about to expose her. “I am sorry, Reverend. Seems the party has started, and I need to corral these babes.”
“That’s all right, Hank, I was just leaving, but just so you know, Thomas’s time here is almost up as well. He will be moving to another state soon. His mother is not happy about it, but she has known for a long time this day would come. A child’s absence always leaves a vacuum until something else comes along and fills it. Have a good day. And oh, by the way, considering your love of old books and quotes, why don’t you look up Daniel 7:25? It might be of interest to you. It all depends on the season, doesn’t it? Good day, sir.”
The old man was taken aback. He knew of and was never fond of that passage in Daniel 7. It was something about the saints being given over to the beast. He would have to look it up for the context, but even so, it left a dark ring around his heart, and fear threatened to break over him. He had won the first round, but now the aftermath lingered, and the enemy, that old serpent Fear, was an insidious opponent. The old man felt the room start to spin. His adrenalin spike was over and now he was paying for it. He felt light-headed and thought he might faint but caught himself before anyone could notice. Even though his body was weakened by the exchange, his eyes never left the dark reverend as he walked through the crowd of children who unconsciously moved away from him like snow from an iron plow. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. On the surface it was innocent enough, but only so. The Reverend Laden Long might have just told the old man something horrible. As he tried to keep his cringing thoughts from flowing down their blood-soaked path, a small hand reached into his own, and then Sarah cupped her hands to her mouth as the old man bent laboriously down to hear her.
“You will stop him. You always have.” Then nonchalantly, like a mouse asking for a cookie, she continued, “But now it is story time!”
The cloud lifted and chaos, in its glorious life-giving form, resurrected. Children laughed and shouted. Gathered chairs were tossed into a wobbly line. Little rear ends tried to sit in them but only managed glancing touches before spindly legs cast them off again.
Finally, the old man gathered his wits enough to begin the story. “O…kay!” he uncharacteristically shouted into the ears of his little flock, who also uncharacteristically settled down and began to listen. “When we last heard from Harry, he had discovered Speaker, the living sword. He had run from the dragon and was leaning up against the sides of the dark tunnel.”
“Yeah, he was asleep.”
“He was afraid he was going crazy. My dad thinks my mom has done that.”
The old man’s thoughts hid behind wide eyes and raised eyebrows at the last revelation, but he continued, “Yes, Harry was asleep, but he was also dreaming, and in his dreams, while in the cave, he would visit with the princess. As he dreamed, he felt drawn down a new tunnel, swirling with wind he could actually see. It circled him and outlined the dream walls he wandered through as he reached out to the princess. Finally, he arrived and walked into the light her small fire cast on the dark cave walls that surrounded her.
‘“I have been waiting for you!’ the princess said as she turned to meet him. ‘Where have you been? Why haven’t you tried to rescue me? I am struggling so hard, and you haven’t come. I thought you were dead! I heard the dragon roaring a few hours ago; then he visited me and said he had killed you and burnt your body to ash. I told him I didn’t believe him and asked him to show me your body. When he didn’t answer right away, I hoped it was because he was lying, but then he answered softly, like an old friend. He kept asking me why I didn’t like him and wouldn’t I like to be free. He told me all I had to do was ask him, and he could change me into a dragon; then we would be free to soar the heavens together. I screamed against him, and he left, but Harry, I am weakening, and the dragon knows it. Get me out of here! Please free me! Come get me!’
“As Harry listened, he longed to run to the princess and hold her. He knew her anger was fueled by fear and felt there was nothing he could do about it. Then it occurred to him. Maybe he could run to her, or at least walk closer, and hold her. I mean it was a dream, but she was dreaming too. At the same time, it kinda wasn’t a dream if they were both in it and really talking to each other through it.”
“Hold on! Hold on! Is this going to get mooooshy?! My mama doesn’t want me watching or listening to anything mooshy, like kissing. I think that’s because it causes cold sores!” the little redheaded girl on the second row protested.
“Yeah, that is right!” another young man, a gap-toothed warrior with a face full of scattered freckles, agreed. “Your mama is my aunt, and I still remember what her aunt, which I think was my great-aunt, said at my cousin’s wedding. It was kinda strange. She told my cousin to be very careful on her honeymoon because kissing causes cold sores! My cousin, the one that was getting married, just stared at my great-aunt, who had never been married, and started crying. Her face turned red, and her body shook, and she ran off before she could fall down! So obviously kissing is dangerous!”
The old man was at a loss. The innocence of youth. Glorious naïveté. Imagination without bounds or experience to rein it in, and oh, how funny it could be. He was about to go on with the story when the discussion moved along quicker than he could corral it.
“Kissing does not cause cold sores. It causes baaabies!” an older boy, about seven and fully experienced in life, added, grinning.
“No, it doesn’t. The stork brings babies.”
“No, it doesn’t. There is a baby fairy that is cousin to the tooth fairy. I know for certain because my dad lost a tooth and told me that’s how I got here!”
The old man ducked his head in his hands and began to convulse. He was trying hard to hide his laughter, but the dam was cracking.
“Oh my goodness!” The old man’s daughter laughed as she moved into the discussion and said, “I hate to interrupt story time, but would anybody like some hot chocolate? I need to take orders if you do, and then Dad can get back to his story. Okay, once again. Who wants hot chocolate?”
The happy chorus of me-me-me! stopped the interesting conversation, and after a moment or two of does-it-have-mint-in-it? and I-don’t-want-any-with-whipped-cream, and then a discussion about the merits or lack thereof of the said topping, the old man finally got back to the story.
“So, the princess was crying and Harry wanted to hug her and comfort her. He cautiously moved toward her and reached out to her. She saw him coming and reached back, and for a moment, the two young people simply stood in their dreams and held each other.�
�
Sarah looked up at the old man with an incredibly wise look on her weary face as she leaned forward and said, “I remember that.” Then her face changed, she blinked, and a six-year-old’s eyes stared back.
The old man sighed and thought, I do too, then he wondered, But who are you? Is the princess speaking through you? Or are you the princess?
“Well, is everybody settled back in? Okay now, where was…”
“They were hugging,” the seven-year-old sage on the back row laughed.
“Yep, yeah, that’s where we left off. Harry had never hugged a girl before, and even though it was a dream, it really wasn’t. The thought occurred to him, I am hugging a princess! And then he thought, And I really don’t care. She is dirty, and scared, and I really hope you can’t smell in a dream because I know I have swamp mud all over me. He looked at himself and saw he was clean in the dream and laughed to himself, Thank you, God! Now I know this is a dream for real!
“Princess Sarah looked at Harry and said, ‘Yes, it is, but it’s not either, and it’s okay. Even if you do smell like a skunk that bathed in a sewer, I would still hug you.’
‘“Can you hear my thoughts?’ Harry asked, shocked, thinking them toward the princess.
‘“Of course I can, Harry. We are in a dream world, and we got here through our hearts’ imaginations. But it’s still real.’
‘“Wow!’ Harry said, and then he heard it again, the sound of the dragon huffing along the tunnel that led to the princess’s dungeon.
‘“I will be back, and it will be very soon. Please don’t give up hope. I have a friend now, and he has beaten dragons before. So, don’t give up ho…’ Harry was going to say ‘hope,’ but awoke before he could get the word out. He looked around and he was still in the tunnel. It was still dark, and he was still alone. Then he heard it again, the roar of the dragon, only this time, it was a lot closer.
Chapter Nine
“‘She is pretty,’ a voice in Harry’s head said.
‘“AAH!’ Harry jerked and then calmed. ‘I forgot you were there. It’s going to take a while to get used to this.’
“‘It always does. It’s not easy for me either, you know. I was asleep for… good grief, I don’t know how long I have been dormant.’”
An eager hand shot up, and the old man didn’t skip a beat, “Dormant means asleep. It is usually associated with winter, and it is what plants do when it gets cold outside. They go dormant. Are you good with that?”
The little towheaded boy on the middle row nodded quickly as his wide eyes beckoned the old man to continue. Then he stuck his hand up again. “Uh, Mr. Hank? I wasn’t asking about the word, I was asking to go to the bathroom.”
“Ah, man!” an angry, childlike hornet’s nest replied in unison.
“Now?” the buzz grew stronger. “Can’t you wait a little longer?”
The anxious blond instrument-of-discord quickly shook his head and said, “Nuh-uh! My grandma decided everybody in the family needed a spring cleaning. I thought it was chocolate candy, and noooo! I can’t wait!” the poor boy yelled as he ran straight into the ladies’ bathroom.
The whole audience erupted with, “He went in the wrong bathroom!”
The old man’s daughter, quick on the draw, ran right after the cramping culprit, stopped at the door, cracked it a little, and whispered so low every little ear in the house leaned forward, “Mike, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I made it, but oh just barely…”
The place howled and rocked, and the old man joined in saying, “That’s not right. That’s just not right!” But nobody paid attention.
Finally, after the glowing, red-faced young man returned to his seat, the squirming slackened and the story recommenced.
“‘What year is it?’ Speaker asked.
‘“Excuse me?’
“‘What year is this?’
‘“Well, as of yesterday, it is May the eleventh, the year of our Lord 1206.’
“‘Oh my gosh! It has been over seven hundred years since I went to sleep! But by the looks of you, and the haphazard way you’ve organized your brain, and the fact you barely know how to read, a lot has changed. Has the empire fallen?’
‘“What empire? The Franks ruled for a while, and the Pope hasn’t called for a crusade in several years.’
“‘Mercy!’ the old sword whispered. ‘They did it! The Germans and the Gauls finally drove us back and broke us. I bet it was those wretched Celtic dragons that finally broke our backs. I can see it in your memories. Some old man came by your home. Your father fed him a night or two, and he paid you in stories. He was a scholar, and you don’t even remember this, do you?’
‘“No, I’m sorry, I don’t, but if I don’t remember, how can you?’
“‘Doesn’t matter, boy. Right now, you have a dragon to kill and a princess to save before she turns on you.’
‘“What! Turns on me?’
“‘You heard me, and you’re seeing it, too. Weren’t you listening to her? Didn’t you see it in her eyes, hear it in her speech? The dragon is making progress in turning her. She grows fearful and angry. Both of those feed the dragon’s spells. He thrives on them, and then uses them against her. We have to move soon.’
“Harry sat on the side of the cave tunnel, the torch flickering close to him. He stared wide-eyed into the dark. She is turning, he whispered to himself. She is turning!
“Okay, children, that is enough for this morning.”
“Nooo! You can’t stop there! You just can’t!” the whole pack howled. “What happens next? Can you give us a hint? Pleeease, pretty, pretty please!” they echoed, like a flock of angry crows. “Just a little… Does she turn?”
The old man looked around the room, a half scowl across his face. Wherever his gaze turned, a silence fell. Finally, when all was still, and you could hear the faint panting of a dozen little breaths, he said, “I forgot.”
The squawking and yelling and even crying was so loud that the elderly lady next door to the library thought her hearing aids were squealing, so she took them out and thumped them on the table.
The old man laughed and laughed, and the children squalled and pouted until finally he said, “Okay, okay… Harry saves her. She doesn’t turn… completely… but it cost Harry, and that is all I am going to say till tomorrow!”
“No, no!”
“Wait!” one brilliant-memoried herald called out. “Tonight is the night for the weekly update with our families. We started it last week, and they all want to attend, remember? So, you can start from where you just left off tonight! Yeah!”
The old man heard the trap slam behind him, knew he was caught, and laughed, “Okay, okay. Tonight it is, but you must go home, help with your chores, and be nice to your siblings.”
“I don’t have any siblans, and if I did, my brother would probably eat them because he sticks everything in his mouth! My mother says he’s a little eatin’ machine. Dad said he’s better than the dog because the dog leaves some things alone. So, I am sure I don’t have a siblan, or whatever you called it.”
“Okay then, go home and take a nap, be nice, play sweet, and bathe before you come tonight. Got it!”
They did. “Especially Mike!” one little girl whispered, loud enough to cause the next-door neighbor lady to check her hearing aids again. “Because he stinks!”
As the old man’s daughter stepped between the would-be combatants and hustled them out the door, the old man sank down into his rocker, sighed, and closed his eyes. He was starting to enjoy the moment when he heard movement in front of him. He opened his eyes and was not surprised to see his favored child.
The old man looked at her and waited. Her grandfather wasn’t usually late. Her face was blank. Then it changed and the eyes looking back at him were pain-filled. “I don’t know what’s going on. I am having dreams during the day. In them, I see the story. I feel like I am in the story. How did I get there, Mr. Hank? I do like the princess, though.”
She blinked and switched. Suddenly someone else was looking back through her eyes. “I’m still here, Harry. I am starting to remember. He followed us. Somehow, he came through the stream. I remember you fought so hard. You beat him, but he came back. He is here now.” She blinked again. Her voice changed, her body language shifted, and a terrified six-year-old girl stood in front of the old man. “He is going after my grandparents, Mr. Hank! Grandpa knows more than he lets on. He may be able to push him back, but he can’t hold out for long.”
The old man didn’t have time to think about what he had just seen. One minute, Princess Sarah was there, then blink, and little Sarah was there. All he could do was stuff his heart back into his chest, push back his fears, and move. “Do you know where your grandpa is, Sarah?” He gasped. “And how has the dragon come for him?”
Sarah began to cry. She wiped her nose on her arm and said, “Thomas let him in. Thomas let him in.” It was all she could manage. Her hands came to her face and she moved into the old man’s arms. “He didn’t want to. He fought, but he had no choice. The dragon knew how to use him…”
The old man held the little girl close and then pulled her back just a bit and looked at her. “Where is Thomas now, Sarah?”
Sarah whimpered and started to weep harder. The old man persisted, “Where is he, Sarah?”
“He went away, Mr. Hank. He had to. The door opened, and they took him, and then the dragon came through.” Sarah blinked again. The old man felt the tension in her body ease; then he felt her sigh. She lifted her head, and Princess Sarah stared back at him. “He died, Harry. The dragon used its host and slew the boy. Now the dragon is in full possession, and he is coming for me.”
A grim mask covered the old man’s face. Warrior eyes, cold, hard, and strong, stared back. “We will kill this beast.” He took a deep breath, and his spine stiffened. The old man straightened up and said, “But this time, he isn’t facing a peasant boy. I’ve learned a few things, acquired a few friends. I will ride him down.”
The Harry Ferguson Chronicles Box Set Page 9