It Must Be Monday

I flipped my Razor open, holding the steering wheel with one hand while I listened to my voicemail. “Hi, Shay, this is Bryce… um, I kind of wanted to talk to you, so if you could call me when you get the chance I’d appreciate it. Uh, I guess I’ll talk to you soon then, bye…”

Sighing, I clicked the phone shut and braked for a red light, staring ahead without really seeing anything. Bryce could wait until later. I really was not in the mood to deal with any kind of drama right now, and anyways, the whole situation with him was starting to get to me. I was still musing on what he might have to say when I walked down the bread isle in Albertson’s ten minutes later and saw the dragon.

Yep, that’s right. A dragon. Four legs, tail, scales—the works. It wasn’t a very big one, maybe about as tall as my dad would be if he had a five-foot long tail, but there in that grocery store it seemed as large as a bus. Even with its wings folded up. A broken chain was trailing from its neck, and as I stood there with my mouth open, it turned and fixed me with a green-eyed stare that even in the midst of my dumbfounded amazement struck me as more apprehensive then aggressive.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that no one else was around to verify whether or not I had suddenly contracted a severe case of schizophrenia. The dragon didn’t seem about to shed any light on the subject either. It just stood there looking at me with its big almond-shaped eyes. It didn’t look like it was about to shoot flames at me, or do anything else dragonish. Maybe it was too young to know how yet.

“Um—hi?” I said intelligently, clutching my plastic hand basket. Could dragons talk? That dragon in the Hobbit did, right? Or maybe it could understand English and just not speak it? But what if this one was Chinese or something?

The dragon did nothing, but continued to look at me expectantly, almost trustfully. Never had I felt less master of a situation.

My awkward moment was interrupted by a shriek from behind me. A woman had dropped her shopping basket, sending cans of Purina cat food rolling across the floor. Lashing its tail in agitation, the dragon let out a rumbling hiss like you hear angry alligators do on “The Crocodile Hunter”. The woman squealed again and ran out of the aisle.

Suddenly I had a mental image of Albertson’s swarming with policemen and animal control officers. I couldn’t let that happen to this poor creature so evidently out of its element. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew we had to do it fast. So, after a split seconds hesitation, I took a step towards the dragon. “If I try and help you, you’re not going to bite me or spit fire at me or do anything else I won’t like, are you?”

It remained silent, but it seemed to me an affirmative sort of silence.
“Then come with me,” I told it, taking hold of its collar. And we ran.

Fortunately the dragon was surprisingly agile for an animal of its size. Nimble as a lizard, it poured along by my side, skittering a little on the polished floor as we rounded a corner. Shoppers screamed and clutched their kids as we dodged past their shopping carts. I spotted one of those mysterious back doors, the ones you see in the back of the store by all the dairy stuff and frozen meats, and made for it. We burst through it into a warehouse sort of place, scattering aproned workers as we went. There was another door on the other side of the room, which ended up dumping us in the back parking lot.

We sprinted the last stretch to my car, me fumbling in my back pocket for the keys. Clicking the power unlock, I flung open the rear door and shoved the lever to flatten the back seat, thanking my lucky stars that I had gone for the SUV instead of the Honda Civic.

“Get in,” I panted at the dragon, hopping back out of the car. It made that hissing sound again, snaking its head weirdly on its long scaly neck, and I jumped back a couple steps.

“Please, people can’t be seeing you!” I pleaded, glancing apprehensively around the parking lot. To demonstrate the safety of my vehicle, I crawled into the back again myself then turned around and beckoned.

To my infinite relief, the dragon got the hint and crawled in, though evidently with great reluctance. The rear end of my car sank a couple of inches under its weight. Hopping out the front, I dashed around and shut the rear door as carefully as I could, then ran back and threw myself into the drivers seat. My fingers were shaking as I started the ignition.

Please, please, please don’t let me get pulled over, I silently begged as I pulled out onto the main road. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the dragon was crouched low, its reptilian head swaying on its long neck. Briefly I wondered if dragons could get carsick. I was glad when the sign for my subdivision came into view around the corner.

I pulled the car into the garage and pushed the button to shut the door before I let the dragon out of the car. It uncoiled itself out onto the concrete floor then sat up on its haunches, stretching its neck out longer and thinner than you would have thought possible and looking about inquisitively. Unlocking the house door, I tried not to think of what might happen when my parents came home tonight. The dragon slinked along after me as I navigated through the kitchen and out onto the pool deck, figuring it might be more at ease in a less enclosed area. Catlike, it sank down on its belly on the sun-warmed brick. It seemed comfortable enough.

I, on the other hand, was definitely not.

There I sat for three solid hours, watching a faint trickle of smoke snake upwards from the dragon’s nostrils as it snoozed in the sunshine. It was five o’ clock, the sunshine was almost all gone, and I was starting to get kind of panicky.

“Rosa!”

The screen door of the pool enclosure banged open; I let out a high-pitched scream, and even in the midst of my startlement felt immediately stupid.
Three young men were standing in front of me. If I had to guess, I’d say they were all around seventeen or eighteen, about my age. As I stood staring, one of them stepped forwards and swept me a melodramatic bow. “Are you the one we have to thank for Rosa’s safety?”

“Um—I dunno—is this your dragon?” I asked, and felt even stupider than before. In my defense, I think I had some right to be flustered.

“Well, kind of,” he said, grinning at me in a way that made my stomach flip over. “We—hang on, let us introduce ourselves. I’m Donny.”

I shook his hand. More stomach acrobatics. This boy was fine.

“Jayce,” the dark haired one said, gripping my hand as well. “And this is Gavin.” I noticed that all their eyes were the exact same shade of bright green. The same color as the dragon’s, in fact.

“I’m Shay,” I told them. It came out a little more shyly then I would have liked. “Um, now I know what your names are and everything, but—who are you?”

“We,” said Donny, putting his hand lightly on Rosa’s neck, “are the Dragonknights of Navarre.”

“Oh,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re not supposed it be, it was an accident. Long story,” the one called Jayce said, smirking. “Let’s just say it wasn’t my fault.”

“That can be disputed at a different time and place,” Gavin interjected swiftly, though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Right now, time is of the essence. Shay, our sincerest thanks.”

They pulled open the screen door and stepped out into the dusty, late-afternoon sunshine. Before he followed, Donny turned back towards me. “Thank you for taking care of Rosa,” he said, looking down at me seriously. “I wish we didn’t have to go so soon, but who knows…” he stooped and kissed my hand, and I gasped as my skin seared where his lips touched it. “Maybe we’ll be seeing each other again someday,” he finished, raising his green eyes to fix with mine. Looking down, I saw a silvery burn mark on the back of my hand.

“Donny, come on!” one of his friends called impatiently. He nodded to me and went to join them. I watched as they walked down the road until they disappeared around the corner of the beach walk.

Was it my imagination, or did a faint tremor run through the air, along with a split-second flash of green? There was no way of telling. The mindless drone of cicadas filled the air same as always. A green lizard bobbed its head up and down on a windowsill. The waterfall between the pool and the jaccuzzi gurgled steadily. Everything was as normal as it was possible to be. I leaned my head against the side of the house, gazing after the spot where they had disappeared.

“Well that was weird,” the lizard commented.