The Dragon Seller: A Tale of Love and Dragons

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The Dragon Seller: A Tale of Love and Dragons Page 19

by F. G. Ferrario


  After I made a round to check things out I went back to the van in the parking lot. From there, I could see the grassy area where months before, in a labyrinth of containers, Foley and his men organized the fights. Now, the new owners had moved the containers and in their place was a tall red and white tent.

  One of the restaurants had set out a dozen long wooden tables and benches. It was almost dinner time, and a few people had already sat down at the tables, while the servers took their orders.

  It was almost dinner time, and a few people had already sat down at the tables, while the servers took their orders.

  I stayed to keep an eye on the amusement park until they closed, at midnight, but no terrible flying monster appeared from the sky to eat us. So, a bit relieved and (I admit it) a bit let down, I went to look for a motel room near the interstate.

  I returned the next day, and the day after that. In the morning and for a good part of the afternoon the park was half empty, but at night the restaurants and bars attracted a bunch of people.

  I had already been on all the rides at least twice, I was finishing the money I had brought with me, and there was no sign of the monster, or Whiskey.

  My fourth day in Bountyfull seemed like it would be even calmer. Being a Wednesday, there were few people in the park, and some of the rides were closed.

  "Maybe Jean is wrong", I thought when I got to the parking lot, "maybe they're really coincidences".

  I had decided to give myself a couple more days at the max, just to be sure, then I would go back to Boise.

  The restaurant that managed the tent in the middle of the grass had decorated the ceiling for a party, with colored bows and a banner, but I was too far to read what was on it.

  At five o'clock I called Raleigh, and at seven as well, to reassure her. The park was calm, people were having fun, they were yelling, laughing on the rides. Around eight I went to a cafeteria to have dinner, and when I came back, a few people had gathered under the tent. Some were already sitting on the benches. A couple of servers came from the restaurant near the park entrance. After a few minutes, the people sat down and the dishes started arriving.

  It must be some kind of celebration or anniversary, I thought.

  At the cafeteria I had gotten a slice of cake with blackberries. I gave a small piece to Lutezia, who devoured it clicking her tongue in gluttony.

  I went back to looking at the grass. Under the tent, the attendees were toasting. The sun had set behind the mountains west of the city, and the decorations were turned on around the red tent. Large arches of colored lights surrounded its top and went up toward the pole in the center.

  Sitting in my van, I started thinking about Whiskey.

  Had my dragon really become a monster? And if it was only a coincidence, and the lightning bolt had really destroyed his body? This idea, obviously, didn't explain the mystery of who or what was wandering around burning the places where the illegal fights were. But rather strange things happen every day in the world, don't they?

  When the sun had set completely I walked around the park again and, seeing that everything was okay, I went back to the van.

  Nothing will happen tonight either, I said to myself.

  The more time passed, the more I felt stupid for being there. I lowered the seat a few inches and called LeBon. The dragons were fine. The Outbacks had finished enlarging the burrow to welcome the new inhabitants; the Tangs wandered around the peach tree branches smelling the flowers like teenagers from the '60s, singing "The age of Aquarius" in dragon language.

  After finishing the call, I settled into the seat a bit better and slowly dozed off. It was Lutezia to awaken me. She moved around in the box and roared a few times before I opened my eyes and looked around, half asleep. On the dashboard, the clock said eleven thirty. I pulled the seat up with a moan.

  "Oh, crap, why did I fall asleep?"

  In the box, Lutezia flapped her wings and hissed.

  "Lute, what's going on with you?"

  An even bigger roar answered her from the starry sky. My Ram ProMaster's windows shook. A shadow passed above the parking lot, darkening it. I got out of the van and looked up. An enormous dragon passed above us and made a large circle. Whoom. Whoom. Each time it flapped its wings, the movement of air produced a sinister sound, making your hair stand on end. Its wing span must have been at least twenty five feet, and from its tail to its head it was twenty three feet long.

  Holy catfish! That can't be Whiskey. He's too big!.

  The people in the park hadn't noticed anything, and even under the tent they kept on eating.

  "Damn it all!".

  I grabbed Lutezia's box and got out of the van. I ran across the parking lot toward the ticket office, my eyes toward the sky. It seemed the dragon had disappeared. When I got to Laguna's gates I almost started screaming.

  "Hurry, you have to get everyone out!"

  The lady at the counter smiled at me, calm and quiet.

  "I'm sorry son, but I can't let you in. We're closing in half an hour".

  She pointed to a sign that read "No Entry past 11:30 p.m.".

  "No, you don't understand. I don't want to get in. It's you that need to get out, and in a hurry. A giant dragon is flying above the park".

  The woman shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  "Listen, darlin', if you think I believe-"

  Another dragon roar interrupted her. A dark figure in the starry sky darted behind me, reflected in the ticket booth's glass. The woman opened her mouth and widened her eyes.

  "What the..."

  She left her chair and went toward the ticket office door, without taking her eyes off the sky. I followed her around the side that went toward the turnstiles at the entrance.

  "There, in the trees!"

  She raised her arm toward the row of trees that separated the park from the grassy area in front of the tent. A trail of fire brushed the tops, igniting them. A couple of people that were walking under the trees started screaming and ran toward us.

  "The monster! The monster is here!"

  "Sound the alarm", I told her ignoring them. "Make everybody leave".

  The woman went back to the ticket office and a second later the fire alarm sounded from the park's loudspeakers. In the sky, the dragon was still circling. The burnt trees were only a warning. His dark figure was now circling around the grass.

  He's getting ready, I thought.

  I knew where he would attack: the red tent. With Lutezia's box in my hand I jumped over the turnstiles, passing between the people that were fleeing from the park. I went into the restaurant, elbowing my way through the flow of people that were going out, and reached the door that opened onto the grass. The tent was sixty feet away. I opened the box's locks.

  "Lute!"

  The Mustang flew out with a mumble of satisfaction and darted into the air above my head. The guests now noticed something was wrong. They were looking at the night sky and pointing at the enormous dragon. But nobody was running away. A couple of them saw me running toward them and frowned.

  "Hey, man, what's going on? Is there a fire?"

  I wanted to shake them and yell: "Damn it all, Can't you see there's a giant dragon above your head?", but I contained myself.

  "No", I said short of breath. "It's a dragon. The Greenbelt monster".

  Whispers of fear, but still nobody was moving. The banner in the middle of the table rad: "George and Sally - 30th anniversary". Above the large main table there was a cake cut in half and various empty bottles of wine.

  Whoom, Whoom. The dragon passed just thirty feet from the ground, flattened the grass and roared, making the tent shake as he passed. That scary sound made the guests wake up all of a sudden.

  "Go! Go!" I incited them.

  Chaos ensued. Everybody was screaming, jumping on the benches and throwing themselves onto the grass. Lutezia glided above my head, but instead of landing on my shoulder she flew away hissing. A guy pushed me back with his shoulder, making me fa
ll to the ground. Just a few moments later a shower of flames hit the top of the tent, and the dragon landed heavily on the roof, tearing the cloth and taking down the support structure. A paw squashed the cake and broke the center table in half, tossing it aside. Because of the tension, the external poles bent and came out of the ground. Half of the tent collapsed onto itself, and the dragon, trapped in it, started thrashing about.

  As I tried to get up, I heard someone scream.

  "Help me, please!"

  A man had gotten stuck under the pieces of a table. I grabbed him by an arm and pulled him toward me. He didn't budge.

  I pulled again, but the man seemed stuck.

  Shit, I can't do it.

  From underneath the tent a spray of fire ignited the air and left a row of flames on the grass. A five year old girl started crying. She was looking around lost just a few feet from the flames.

  "Lute, protege! Lute!"

  With a hiss my Mustang darted toward the girl, landing on her arm and shoving her to the ground. Then, with her wings, formed a dome just a second before another set of flames hit both of them. Lutezia ducked her head to cover the girl's, and closed her eyes. For a moment, dragon and girl disappeared in the flames.

  "Ah, come on, come on!"

  I stepped over the man and picked up the broken table. Just a few feet away, the giant dragon was scraping with his claws at the destroyed chairs and turned over benches, trying to free himself from the canvas.

  He roared with rage, and the man started screaming. With a last, desperate tug, I freed his leg from under the table.

  "Hurry, come help me!" I said going toward Lutezia and the girl.

  But that guy didn't think about it twice. He fled as fast as the wind toward the empty restaurant.

  What a bastard.

  I took my t-shirt off and went over to my Mustang, and in that moment the dragon's head came up out of a tear, surrounded by flames. The being hissed, his lips pulled back showing a row of white and sharp teeth from which acid saliva was dripping.

  For a long, endless moment we stared at each other, without recognizing one another. The dragon took in another breath from his abdomen. His chest swelled and from his throat came the growl of a fiery geyser, ready to erupt and incinerate me.

  I had counted them.

  In the life of a Breeder, counting Fire Breaths becomes automatic with time. There's a physiological limit to their main defense mechanism, according to how much gas they stored in their abdominal sacs. The breaths, therefore, are never many. One, two at the most if the dragon is fit. Three if it's a Mustang. Then, the abdomen deflates, their flight becomes heavier and the dragon has to get back on the ground.

  He had already hurled four of them, and was getting ready to throw the fifth right at me.

  I grabbed Lutezia with the t-shirt and ran across the grass with my heart in my throat. Even with the t-shirt, the Mustang's scales were piping hot, but I didn't have time to feel pain. I heard the gurgle behind me become stronger and stronger.

  I don't want to burn, I don't want to burn!

  After about thirty feet I tripped, and that's what saved me. The Fire Breath passed over my head, grazing my back in a wave of intense heat, and a lock of hair curled on the back of my head, slightly burnt by the fire.

  I rolled in the grass for a few feet and got up right away. Behind me, the monster was finishing to destroy what remained of the party.

  I ran away before discovering if he could let out another Breath.

  Happy anniversary, George and Sally. I hope you liked the surprise.

  In the parking lot, I freed the girl from Lutezia's grasp. The Mustang had saved her by miracle. The girl was wide eyed and her head was smoking a little bit, but she burst into tears as soon as I took the Mustang's tail off her legs.

  "It's okay, honey. You're safe".

  I picked her up and caressed her head, in the awkward attempt to comfort her.

  "Good girl, Lute, good girl", I said to the Mustang then.

  The dragon looked at me with pride and shook her tail. At least, one of my dragons had behaved like a heroine, that night. The problem was: what to do with the other one? Because there were no doubts: the monster I had seen in the flames was Whiskey.

  MY DRAGON FINISHED destroying the tent, which was now a gigantic bonfire in the middle of the grass, and took flight, leaving us with a Waaaa that echoed, ghostly, louder than Laguna's fire alarm. With a couple of wing flaps he was beyond the woods and heading toward the mountains.

  The trees near the restaurant were still burning and the girl wouldn't stop crying. She was looking around for her parents with her cheeks full of tears.

  With the girl in my arms and Lutezia on my other shoulder, I started feeling a bit overwhelmed. The Mustang, in an outburst of unexpected tenderness, stretched her neck and gave the girl a lick on the cheek, making her cry even more.

  "No, Lute. She's scared".

  I moved the Mustang's face and walked around the parked cars.

  Where the fuck is everybody?

  Nobody was left of all the people that were in the amusement park and the party guests. Most of them had run out of the parking lot and climbed the interstate fence nearby. Some were still running, far away in the dark.

  I bet next year, George and Sally will celebrate their anniversary underground. In a bunker.

  Fortunately, some people had hidden behind the cars, and among these were the girl's parents. Behind a silver Chevy I found an old man and a couple in formal clothes. They were crouching behind the tires, with their hands latched onto the doors. When she saw me arriving, the woman burst into tears and grabbed her daughter from my arms.

  "Rosie! Oh Rosie!"

  Mother and father hugged their daughter and thanked me as they cried. The old man, instead, was staring at Lutezia with tight lips and a furrowed brow. A dragon had just attacked that place and I had a big one on my shoulder.

  Even the most intelligent people, when they're scared, become stupid. And the ones that are already stupid, transform into beasts. Fire men and police were arriving, you could hear the sirens getting closer. Maybe the sheriffs in that county weren't like Ertz, but was I willing to take a risk? I understood I had to leave right away.

  I went back to the grass to get the box and left the parking lot with a squeal, while the flames devoured the amusement park behind me. I traveled all night, and arrived in Boise at dawn. I didn't talk to anybody. I didn't wake Jean up at Wild Dragons when I brought Lutezia back to the Garden, nor did I call Raleigh at home. Instead I slumped into the armchair in the living room, vaguely conscious of the fact that I had a couple of slightly burnt locks of hair. Sheela came to sit on the armrest right away. I pulled the blanket up to my chest and petted her head.

  What should I do now?, I asked myself. In the dark, I was petting Sheela and thinking. I was thinking and petting. I was in front of a fork in the road, and the decision I had to make was the hardest of my life.

  The next day the media was in a frenzy. You know a herd of hyenas feasting on a caribou carcass? Those were English lords at a gala for the queen, compared to the journalists. Every network was live from Bountyfull, plus there were dozens of specials, talk shows and pieces on the new attack. In a few counties along the border between Utah and Idaho the respective governors ordered a curfew. The sense of guilt was devouring me.

  "I have to do something", I told Raleigh and Jean.

  We were in the Flight Garden, next to the Tangs' peach tree, and I had just finished telling them about what had happened the night before.

  "You're right, Jeq. We have to find him before those crazy people do", said Jean.

  Raleigh stared at me with a worried face.

  "Do you think the guys from the Guard could find Whiskey?"

  "I don't know. This is the point: I don't know anything!"

  That morning Governor Rank had called the National Guard again, setting up a "dragon hunt" side show. Could they find him? Hard to say. If there's a p
lace where someone can lose a dragon and not find it again it's in the area between Bear Lake and Yellowstone park, on the border between Idaho, Wyoming and Utah. An area that, just to give you an idea, is just slightly smaller than Ireland. Large and thick forests, caves, clefts, miles and miles of uninhabited mountains. All that's needed for a dragon to play hide-and-seek with you for decades.

  And then there was another problem: I didn't know where Whiskey had been during the month since I had left Bountyfull. I had found a dead end in Saratoga, remember? From that point on I had lost his tracks. Raminskij and the others had brought him to Arizona to fight, or maybe in Colorado.

  "You do know one thing, Jack". Raleigh put a hand on my arm. "He's your dragon. You can't let them get him".

  "And when I find him, if I can, what will I do?"

  "Bring him home", answered LeBon.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed.

  "Yeah, you make it easy. You didn't see him, last night, as he was trying to barbecue a little girl".

  "He's out there all alone, traumatized", said Raleigh. "He doesn't realize what he's doing. In my opinion he thinks he's attacking those bastards that tortured him".

  I felt like swearing. Apparently, those two had agreed to make me look like the bad guy.

  "Okay. good. I see you've left me the role of the asshole".

  "Jeq, don't say that..."

  "No, no. I understand you. After all, what do you care? You're not the ones that will have to live with the guilt if Whiskey kills someone. Because it'll be only my fault!"

  Raleigh held my arm tighter.

  "That's not true, and you know it". She came closer and looked me in the eye. "It's not your fault. Okay?"

 

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