Edited by Wicked
This is a copyrighted work of fiction. All rights reserved.
*
I didn't have long to wait for my hopes to be fulfilled. Later that day as I slept in the river, I felt someone looking for me again. It woke me from sleep, and I stirred, letting the feeling guide me. I found Dakota at the same place we had spoken the night before. Once again, she was carrying a cardboard box. Judging from the sun, it was late afternoon.
"I'm behind you," I warned. She still jumped.
"God, I wish you wouldn't do that," she said softly as she walked over to me.
"What's in the box?" I asked as I stuck my head in. I smelled Mexican, and there were also some books. She lightly slapped my snout.
"Jeez, you're nosy. Why ask me if you're going to look for yourself?"
"Three of everything?"
"Of course."
"You're going to go broke feeding me."
"I haven't gone through the money from last night yet. Besides, I won five hundred dollars on an instant ticket from the convenience store."
I considered where we should talk. I was pretty certain I could block her from being seen, same as myself. I didn't want to have a conversation here, though, where people could be a distraction.
"Here," I said as I arched my back to where she could get on it. She eyed it dubiously. "Come on, don't you trust me?"
"Well, I guess I do," she said uncertainly as she placed the box on my back. "Just be careful."
"You're faith in me is touching," I said jokingly.
Carefully, I eased myself into the river. Making sure that no water splashed up on Dakota or the box, I made my way to a small island I knew of in the river. It was barely big enough for me, but I could stay partially in the water. When I reached it, I let Dakota dismount and settle in, then I arranged myself around her. Most of my tail lolled back into the river.
As I watched her, I got a better look at her. She was pretty, with longish blond hair that tended to fall into her blue-green eyes. She pushed it away so often it seemed an almost unconscious gesture. She had an athletic build, and I wondered if she was involved in any sports.
"Why did you come back?" I asked as she unpacked the box.
"I have a soft spot for strays," she said, pushing the hair out of her face. "You know, stay cats, stray dogs, stray people...."
"Stray dragons," I finished. "Doesn't this freak you out at all?"
"Hell yes it does." She finished unpacking the box and sat down. "But I kept thinking about your story last night, and I felt, I don't know, bad for you I guess. I kept thinking about how lonely it must be. Besides, I owe you for saving me at least from rape, probably getting killed. And I believe you were genuinely sorry for killing that guy. So, what did you, um, do with the body?" She tried to make the last part sound nonchalant, but I could detect a note of apprehension.
"I tore it up and sent it down river," I answered. I also tried to sound nonchalant, and I also failed.
"You really feel bad about him, don't you?"
I nodded, uncertain of what to say.
"Why?"
"I shouldn't have had to kill him. There were other options. I didn't think...."
"What kind of options? You had some serious whup-ass going on this guy and he didn't back down. You're a dragon for Christ's sake, and you didn't frighten him. He wasn't exactly a candidate for the scared-straight program."
"No, I couldn't scare him. When that didn't work I should have tried something else, though. If I could make some guy canoeing forget about me, I should have been able to make him forget about you."
"You don't know that...."
"But I didn't even try, that's the point. I didn't even think about it." I flopped back onto the ground, feeling even more miserable than I did when he died.
Dakota sat in silence. When she did speak, it was with careful deliberation. "You did the best you could do. You're going to drive yourself nuts second guessing what you should have or could have done." She grabbed my snout and looked earnestly into my face. "You understand that, don't you?"
I didn't, not really. But given the death grip she had on my snout, I decided to lie. "Yeah, I guess I see what you're saying."
She let go. "Good. Now eat your Toxic Taco before it gets cold."
I began to remove my food. "What all did you bring?" I asked, trying desperately to change the subject.
"Some books on dragons that I got from the library. I also brought my camera phone along."
"Camera?" I asked, beginning to eat my meal. "Selling me out to the tabloids?"
"Yep," she said, looking over the phone. "You'll be right on the cover with 'Elvis Clone Kidnapped By Aliens' or some such. Actually, I thought you might not have seen everything, so you might like some pictures. I'll delete them afterwards, or not take them at all; it's up to you." She placed the phone back in her bag.
I mulled it over. "It's a thought," I said. "Considering I still have no concrete idea what my head looks like. Let me think it over. What did you find out in the books?"
"Oh, I think you'll find this interesting. All sorts of stuff on Oriental dragons." She set down her food and picked up a book, opening it to a marked section. "Check out this story...." I lowered my head to the open book. "Ah, I meant that figuratively," Dakota explained while leaning back out of my way.
"Oh, sorry," I said as I moved my head away from the book.
"Now, according to this story, some guy in the Schezwan Provence of China had the same experience. Almost exactly." She proceeded to read the story, which did closely mirror my own. Guy finds pearl, really likes pearl, thieves try to steal pearl, guy swallows pearl to protect it, guy turns into dragon. However, there were some discrepancies, such as the pearl had magical powers beyond turning the guy into a dragon. Also, in the last lines of the story the dragon ascended into heaven. When Dakota reached that section, I looked around dubiously.
"If this is heaven, I'm feeling a little gypped."
"OK, it's not precisely what happened, but it's pretty damn close. You have to admit that. So apparently, what you have is a dragon's pearl."
"You're right, it is really close. But how did a dragon's pearl get from China to here, in a ring no less, and given how old the pearl would have to be, why was I the first one to get the idea in my head to swallow it? In the story, the guy just finds the pearl in a meadow. Obviously, he was the first to find it after the dragon was done with it."
Dakota shrugged. "I don't know. None of these books answer any of those questions. The problem is, none of these stories really go into how dragons think."
"I don't think any differently than I did before," I pointed out.
"No, but remember, you weren't always a dragon. The pearl could have come here with a dragon. We really have no clue how old it is. The question in how did it get into the ring."
"Wait a minute, the pearl has to come from a dragon, right?" I asked.
"Theoretically, yeah. I mean where else is it going to come from?"
"We're just going to ignore where the dragons get them from...."
"Actually," she said, reaching for another book, "I've got a theory on that...."
"I'll get back to that," I cut in. Though I was curious, I wanted to tackle one mystery at a time. "And for the pearl to be recent, the dragon would have to be recent."
"Well, yes," I could tell she was trying to follow where I was going.
"There aren't any dragons," I explained.
"Except for you," she pointed out.
"Well, obviously, except for me. But I certainly didn't make the pearl."
"No, but how are you so sure there aren't any other dragons?"
When I thought about it, what she said made sense. If I could figure out how to hide, they probably have it mastered. "OK, point to the cute blond with the Toxic takeout. But if it is recent, then why haven't I ascended to heaven, or another dragon shown up?"
Dakota, ignoring the blond remark, shrugged again. "I don't know. Like I said, these books only have so much information, and it's not a lot. I mean, for all we know the pearl is ancient and has been waiting all this time for you. Or maybe you're the first likely candidate to come along. I mean, what's the criteria for becoming a dragon, anyway? Chinese dragons were basically benevolent creatures. Could you imagine what brick shithouse would have done with just the raw strength?"
I had to admit, I didn't like those possibilities.
"You said yourself, the way you think hasn't really changed. I assume it's changed some, or did you always eat people's arms?"
