The Dragon of Nottingham

My wife Darcey inspired me to write a dragon story. I came into the kitchen this morning and found the drawing, pictured above, on the blackboard.

The Dragon of Nottingham

Isaac stood very still. He could feel the heat on the back of his neck get hotter and hotter.

“Isaac?”

The boy’s mother stopped in her tracks and turned to face her son.

“Oh, there you are. What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost exactly, Mom.”

“What then? I haven’t seen that look on your face since that spider found its way down the back of your underwear. I never knew anyone could scream so loud.”

“Very funny, Mom. I didn’t scream that loud.”

“I wasn’t talking about you, Isaac. I was talking about the spider. I can’t imagine what the poor thing must have gone through, being stuck back there in all that underwear debris. And I should know. I’m the one who does the washing. Makes me shudder.”

Isaac smiled and ran a few steps to catch up with his mother.

“Do you want to talk about it, Isaac? It’s not the dragon again, is it? Because I’ve told you that your father and I took care of it. It happened one night while you were sleeping. Your father and I came into your room to give you a goodnight kiss and there it was, sitting in your rocker and reading your comic books. The good one’s, too! The one’s that no one’s ever to touch but you.We were besides ourselves, so your dad and I, brave souls that we are, wrestled that dragon to the floor and tied him up with your kite strings. Then we put it in a box and shipped it to NASA space central in the United States with strict instructions that they were to place the box on their next spaceship to Mars. Because, as I’ve told you before, that’s where all the dragons live now. It’s a very hot planet and they’re all quite comfortable with their new surroundings. They’ve got barbecue pits as big as swimming pools and plenty of red dust to roll around in.”

“Right, Mom. I’d forgotten.”

Isaac hadn’t forgotten anything. He knew she was making it up to make him feel better. That dragon hadn’t gone anywhere. And now it was here in the park, lurking behind every tree as he followed Isaac’s trail. Ready to pounce at a moments notice. At least  that’s what Isaac thought were the dragon’s intentions.

His mother was right about the rocker, though. The first time Isaac saw the dragon, it was rocking in his chair, reading his comic books. It had a tiny flicker of fire coming out of his nostrils to help him read in the dark. When Isaac woke in the middle of the night and saw him, he screamed a scream that made the dragon evaporate before his eyes. He’d hoped it was all a bad dream. But no. It was very real. The dragon’s been back every night for the past two weeks. But today was the first time Isaac had seen him outside of the house.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can we move to Antarctica?”

“Antarctica? Why on earth would we, or anyone but crazy people move to Antarctica? Only penguins, polar bears and retired snowmen move to Antarctica.”

“Because I’m thinking a dragon wouldn’t follow us to such a cold place.”

“Oh,” said his mother. “I see. Dragons again.”

“No,” said Isaac. “I see dragon’s again. You think it’s my imagination. But it’s not. It’s real. And it’s standing right behind you.”

“Very funny, Isaac. Try to get a fright out of your mother. Well, it won’t work. I don’t frighten so easily.”

As they continued walking thorough the park, Isaac held tight to his mother’s hand and kept one eye on the dragon.

The dragon had a satisfied smile on its face as he followed behind Isaac’s mother, sniffing at the the smell of her sweet perfume.

This time it was his mother’s turn to stand very still.

“Odd,” said his mother. “I must be coming down with something. I’m getting heat flashes at the back of my neck. I hope it’s not the flu. I hate the flu. And everyone hates me when I have the flu. I‘m one cranky, miserable wreck when I‘m sick and bedridden. I don‘t even like me when I have the flu. I’m nothing but a moany, leaky, sneezy mess.”

“You’re not sick, Mom. I told you. It’s the dragon. I think he likes your perfume. He has a goofy look on his face.”

“Really?”

“Really, Mom.”

“Hmm. Goofy looking, perfume sniffing dragons don’t sound so dangerous. Maybe we should keep him around a bit and see what he’s up to. Maybe he just needs a good home and some tender loving care.”

“You think so?” said Isaac.

“I do,” said his mother. “I think we’ve been going about this all wrong. We’ve been paying to much attention to old books and movies telling us that this sort of thing is bad for us.”

“What sort of things?”

“You know. Ghosts, goblins and dragons. Always popping up out of nowhere. Frightening people and taking them off to caves to carve up and have for their supper. Supposing. Just supposing, mind you, that one dragon out of a million is nothing more than a kind-hearted mush pod who wants nothing more than to read comic books and smell the beautiful things in life. Like me, for instance. And since we have all these things. You, the comic books and me, the beauty. Why not welcome this dragon with open arms. But only if he promises to keep his flames to himself.”

“But what about Dad?”

“What about him?”

“What if the dragon doesn’t like him.”

“Not like your father? Have you lost your senses.? Have you ever smelled your father. The man’s a walking advertisement for Old Spice after shave. You know as well as I that we can smell your father a good twenty minutes before he walks in the door. I think the dragon will find your father downright intoxicating.”

Isaac laughed and gave his mother a hug.

“You’re right about that,” said Isaac. “Maybe he can even help Dad at the barbecue pit. You know how bad Dad is at starting fires.”

“Now you’re talking, Isaac. How about the three of us stop at the comic book store on the way home and pick up something for the dragon? Then he can have his collection and you can have yours.”

Isaac and the dragon looked at each other and smiled. They were soon to be fast friends. Forever.

The End