by Robin Janney
No matter their history, Angela was still intimidated by the slighter woman. Maeve could tell by the rigid way Angela was standing on the other side of her desk.
“Sit Angela, sit!” Maeve smiled, trying to put the younger woman at ease. She even put more Irish in her brogue. She was over thirty years away from Ireland and the accent had softened over the years, but she knew how to turn it on when needed. It had always calmed Angela in the past. “It’s not always bad to be called into the office!”
Angela’s shoulders relaxed, and she took the seat across from her. “I guess old habits die hard. I was just thinking of all the times I was called into the principal’s office in high school.”
“That was a long time ago and you’re not that wild teen anymore.” Maeve opened the folder on her desk, giving Angela movement to focus on. It usually helped the girl distract herself from her anxiety. “I was talking with Kirk earlier this week.”
“Uh-oh, maybe I should be worried!”
“Only if you’re worried about harder work.” She knew better. Angela had never shied away from hard work. If anything, she was driven to seek it out. “He and I think you’re ready to teach a class of your own.”
The other woman almost leapt from her chair. “Really?”
Maeve laughed, pleased to see the other like the idea. “Does that surprise you?”
“A little. Kirk barked at me pretty hard this morning when I dropped my guard.”
“He barks at everyone, you know that.” Oh no. Maeve knew the look on her protégé’s face. Something told her Angela’s mind had already leapt onto the idea and was trying to figure something out. “We’re going to be starting a new women’s defense class. Maybe ten or fifteen students.” She glanced down at her paperwork. “Nine confirmed right now, but I’m sure the others will be onboard by next Saturday.”
“Beginner level correct?”
Nodding, Maeve turned a paper over even though the other wasn’t watching her closely anymore. “Yes. Some of these women are referrals from the crisis center. A few are just women looking for something to do, or at least that’s what their story will be. How do Avery and Roy sound for assistants?”
Angela wrinkled her nose. “Roy and Avery? I don’t know. They’re both predictable in their moves. Avery’s slow, but at least he tries harder than Roy does. Neither of them can hold their own against me.”
“Always looking for a challenge,” mused the older woman. She hid a smile as Angela bit her lip in thought. “Don’t be too confident in your ability to predict your opponents’ moves. The teens might surprise you yet.”
“Maybe. We’ll see. Would it be permissible if I asked someone new to come in and help for this class? I know someone with a black belt. I wouldn’t be able to predict his moves.”
Leaning back in her seat, Maeve considered this. She was well acquainted with whom the black belts in their area were. Depending on who the girl was thinking about, it could be good for her to go up against someone new. “That would be intriguing. Who are you thinking of?”
“Craig Moore.”
“No, I know which dojo he frequents.” Maeve felt no shame in nipping this idea in the bud. “I’m not sure his philosophy agrees with ours.”
The young woman frowned, and Maeve knew she’d have to pay better attention to the rumors she’d heard. “It’s not like he’d be teaching,” argued Angela. “He’d be more of a…visual aide. I could tell him not to talk?”
She couldn’t stop her laugh. “Craig Moore – a visual aide?” The crestfallen look on Angela’s face stilled her laughter. Those rumors were true, weren’t they? There was something brewing between this girl and her boss. At least, Angela had some kind of crush on her boss. Given this girl’s history, this could go either way. Maeve cleared her throat before speaking. “I highly doubt Craig Moore will say yes to you, but I give you permission to ask him.”
Angela’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Yes.” She hoped she didn’t regret this.
“What if he says yes?” teased Angela.
“As long as he agrees not to undermine what we’re teaching, I won’t have a problem with it. I don’t think you’ll need to go so far as to ask him not to speak.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll ask him tonight at work.”
Maeve felt the need to caution her. “Don’t be too disappointed if he says no. I’ve never known him to spar with females, not even in competitions. I’ve seen him forfeit before.”
Angela shrugged. “I’m not asking him out on a date. Just to help me with a class.”
So, she was in denial about her crush. But Maeve didn’t feel any better about it. “Why don’t you hurry on out for the next class before Kirk comes looking for you? We’ll iron out all the little details of your new responsibilities before you leave.”
“Okay, okay. Thanks Maeve!”
She watched her charge bounce happily away. If Craig Moore did anything to hurt this girl, he’d have to answer to Maeve. She had half a mind to tell him so if he agreed to Angela’s request.
T eaching would be a challenge, but Angela was willing to give it a try. The small promotion came with a twenty dollar overall raise. It didn’t compare to what she earned at the store, but like working at the vet clinic – money had never been the motivation. Maeve and karate had saved her life just as much as helping Doc Maynard at the vet clinic had.
Any penny she could put towards saving her family’s farm was welcome. She had started taking the money straight to the bank after the last time her mother had forgotten to pass it to her father. It was like her mother was against saving the farm, and Angela didn’t understand why. It had been passed down through her mother’s family for generations.
Angela was all set to ask her boss when she came on the clock at three, but he hadn’t been there. She knew he’d show up before too long. He was still in the habit of helping her after closing, even though their conversations stuck to work. She worried a little about the propriety of it. Pastor Mark had just preached about the dangers of being alone with a member of the opposite sex you weren’t related to. Again. And she couldn’t help but feel as though it was directed at her.
Even though she had seen her boss several times as she worked between the deli and one of the front registers, this was one of the nights he stayed in his office after closing.
She finished her last chore of the night in record time. Cleaning the deli refrigerator for the first time, she was disgusted to find a package of past-dated ham shoved back in the corner behind a brick of cheese. Amusingly enough, it was dated the same day she had started, and she would have been willing to bet it was her first attempt at using the meat slicer.
Disposing of it in the trash, she turned off the deli light and headed back to Craig’s office. And almost ran into him on his way out.
He saw her in time to avoid the collision, looking far too relieved.
“I was just coming out to tell you that you can go home. What are you so deep in thought about?”
“Rumors and spoiled meat,” she answered.
Craig smiled easily. “You haven’t been talking to Widow Jamenson, have you?”
“I try not to,” she admitted with a return smile. “She was one of the ones I was thinking of though. She and my mom are good friends, and there’s no end to it sometimes.”
“Yeah well, Flo’s the biggest gossip in town so I’m not surprised.”
Angela knew she had to seize the moment, or she’d never be able to have the courage again. “I was actually on my way back to ask you for a favor.”
He leaned against the wall. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s just…you know how I work Saturday mornings at a karate center?” She waited for his nod. “They’ve given me a class to teach, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to come in as an assistant for me. Larry told me you have a black belt too, and I’d really like to spar with someone new. Roy and Avery are inexperienced still.” She held her
breath, biting one lip, and waited.
His face just barely twitched, and there was no smiling now. “I’d prefer not to.”
“What if I said please?” Smiling at him again, she added, “Pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?”
He sighed. “Which dojo? I forget what your application said.”
For some reason, telling him the name felt like admitting defeat. “O’Malley’s Dojo for Christ. It’s in Sawyersville.”
Craig’s face contorted into a scowl. “Maeve O’Malley.”
“That’s the one.” Angela sighed, trying not to frown. She knew her teacher had a reputation among the other dojo’s for being adamant in her witnessing for Christ and it sounded like Craig had experienced her before.
“Have you talked to her about this idea?” he asked, his voice milder than it had just been. “Somehow I don’t think she’d approve of me setting foot in her place of business.”
“Yes, I talked to her first. She said as long as you didn’t do anything to undermine what we teach, she’d be okay with it. I mean, it’s not like you’d be teaching or being taught…just there to help me demonstrate some more difficult moves.” She struggled not to sigh again. “Well, she warned me you’d say no so I guess I’m not surprised. Thanks anyway.”
“She said that did she?”
Angela nodded. His face was hard to read. It often was if he wasn’t smiling. Her heart began to pound again as they stood there in silence and she began to fidget.
“Alright. I’ll do it. Tell me when to be there.”
Elated, Angela now struggled not to smile too much. “You’re serious?”
He nodded, his face softening and the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. “Yeah.”
“Great! Thank you, Mr. Moore. The class starts at ten, so probably be there about fifteen minutes before. You know where it is?” She was embarrassing herself, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.
“I do.” He pushed off from the wall. “Well, you’d better head on home now.”
“Yeah. I have to get some sleep. I can’t miss church two Sunday’s in a row. I’ll never hear the end of it. Goodnight, Mr. Moore.” She turned and walked away towards the break room. If there was a bounce to her step, she didn’t notice.
But Craig noticed, and his heart tried beating to the bounce.
He stepped into his office and shut the door behind him. He swore softly. The things he was willing to do just to see her smile. What was he going to do? Was he really going to help her with her karate class?
If it meant she would keep on smiling? Hell yes.
T he Dragon Queen was winning. She always had and always would. The knight had no fight left in him, but he tried anyway, sheathing his sword and leveling his lance at the large Dragon.
She grew each time he faced her. Her wings beat with thunder as she landed before him, her brown and green skin sparkling in the harsh sunlight of a cloudless day. Smoke curled around the edges of her maw, sulfuric stench reaching him where he stood.
All she had to do was breathe fire, and he’d be dead. The knight wondered if he was going to die by fire again. It had been a while since he’d died by fire. He’d met worse fates at her hand…talons.
He dropped his lance to the ground and once again, gave up. Let her come, let it end.
Her paw reached out and her talons dug into him. The pain was intense as her grip tightened and she lifted him to her face. He struggled to keep his eyes open, determined to meet the end with open eyes this time.
She laughed in triumph. It was an ugly sound, the knight had nothing to compare it to. Her serpentine tongue flicked out of her mouth, trailing across his armor as if tasting him in a sickening caress and he felt like vomiting. He probably would before she was done with him.
“You’re mine, Little Man,” the Dragon Queen purred. Her jaws opened, and she drew him close.
Movement stopped abruptly with flashes of actinic blue lightning. Energy crackled all around him and his captor.
She was roaring in pain. Lightning traced all around her as her large head snapped around, trying to find the source of her torment. She screamed in rage…and agony. Whatever was happening, was causing her pain. It was enough to make him smile.
But then, the knight felt himself falling. Peace filled him, despite the fact he was going to die anyway. This was also new, but he was glad the Dragon Queen was denied her kill.
There was a rush of wings, and he felt his descent slow. He was being carried away from the dragon and he wanted to protest. But why? Hadn’t he already given up? Still a traitorous part of him wanted to insist that the fight wasn’t over yet. But he could see no one to complain to. Whatever had him was behind him.
He was lowered to the ground, and he rolled away as soon as he was released. Rising again, he tore his battered helmet off and threw it from him in anger. It landed yards away, bouncing harmlessly in the red sand.
The dragon was giving chase and fear filled him anew. And then he saw her.
The angel was as beautiful as the dragon was ugly. Her gown of iridescent blue shimmered in the light, casting rainbows all around. Her wings were covered with white feathers and carried her in front of him to face the dragon. Her only halo was long fiery auburn hair.
She brandished his lance like she knew how to use it. “If you want him, you’ll have to get by me first.”
The knight felt his knees give out, and he slumped to the ground. What was happening?
The dragon hesitated, kneading the sand beneath her with nervous talons. She roared again, breathing fire towards them which split harmlessly around them. The knight didn’t even feel heat from the blast. The dragon’s roar expressed her fury, but she turned tail and flew away.
The angel…no, her name was Angel…turned and flew to him. Her eyes were a brilliant blue in a smiling face.
“She’s gone now,” Angel said softly, offering him a drink from a silver flask she’d removed from her belt. He drank deeply, his eyes never leaving hers. His heart pounded as she removed his armor, but not in fear. Not even when he was clad only in his undergarments. Her hands were gentle as she took stock of his wounds. “When she comes back, we’ll be ready for her.”
“We?” the knight asked, bewildered. Her touch had driven all thoughts of the ugly beast from his mind until she mentioned it. He was ashamed she knew of his association with the vile and evil creature.
Angel smiled, and the shame vanished. “Of course. You don’t expect me to leave now that I’ve found you, do you?”
The knight was silent for a long time, his eyes watching her hands pour golden oil over his wounds and bandage them. Her touch was soft against his bare skin. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to love you.”
“But I’m not worthy,” he protested. “The dragon still lives.”
Cerulean eyes held his. “There will always be a dragon, either this one or another. Whether this one lives or dies, you can still conquer her.”
The knight smiled ruefully. “So now it’s back to just me.”
“I will always be at your side, fighting with you and for you. But in the end, it is your choice whether to conquer her.”
“I’m afraid,” he said, reaching out to touch her for the first time. A simple caress, his fingers on her cheek. “How do you conquer the unconquerable?”
“Love conquers all…”
He held his breath as she leaned in close, her lips landing on his. Joy, pure unadulterated joy, shot through him. She smelled like roses and tasted far sweeter. He had never known anything so pure before, and before he knew it he had wrapped his arms around her and was pulling her closer. Her wings curled around them.
Breathless, he brushed the hair away from her face. “Angel…I…”
Even as he spoke, the angel was ripped from his arms, her screams deafening.
“Angel!” he yelled, rising to his feet. His first thought was the dragon had returned, but the beast which bore his angel away from
him was far darker. Her screams faded away. The beast’s wings had stirred the sand up, a quasi-sandstorm still fell around the knight. Angel was already a faint speck of light in a sea of darkness.
“Tell me this isn’t happening,” the knight pleaded to a god he no longer believed in. His heart bottomed out, newly birthed hope dying a quick death. She had given so much freely, never asking for anything in return.
The knight’s armor was back on without him putting it on; dreams were like that. His sword was already in his hand, and he smelled sulfur. One look showed him the dragon returning.
Indecision paralyzed him. Stay and fight the Dragon Queen who had been his nemesis for years or go after the new dark beast which had carried his Angel away. Either way, death seemed likely.
“To hell with the dragon,” he snarled. He turned away from the approaching dragon and broke into a fast trot after the dwindling speck of flying darkness on the horizon. “I will free my Angel.”
C raig awoke with a violent start, drenched in a cold sweat. Breathless, he cursed into the darkness. He patted the surrounding bed, trying to reassure himself he was awake and out of the dream.
Eighteen years, and the dream hadn’t changed. He, the knight, locked in mortal combat with the dragon. She always won. Until now. It scared him, even as it gave him hope.
He turned a light on, checking the time. As if the time had ever stopped him before. His phone was in his hand and the number dialed before his breathing had even settled down. He had to know if this dream meant what he thought it did.
“Good morning,” Kevin answered cheerfully after the third ring.
Craig couldn’t help himself. His sleep had been cut short, the dream had been bad, and his friend sounded so rested. “You’re too damn happy for this early in the morning.”
“Ah, good morning Craig. Are you alright? You sound…you had the Dragon Dream, didn’t you?”