Dragon's Song

by Emily Martha Sorensen

  “This is an emergency,” she told him. “The fourth dragon egg has parents!”

  Henry stared at her blankly.

  Virgil was going to play in his bucket! Virgil was running to play in his bucket! Virgil was scrambling into his bucket! Virgil was going to hit a wall with his bucket!

  Roll roll roll WHAM!

  “Oh, and no one knows who they are yet,” Rose went on, realizing she had to elaborate. “It’s a mystery.”

  Henry kept staring at her.

  “We have to figure out who they are!” Rose added, feeling that this explanation ought to be unnecessary.

  Henry stirred at last and frowned. “Rose . . . I really couldn’t care less about that right now. I’m trying to study to pass a test I don’t want to take in the first place, and I’m not even half done. Could you please just . . . take Virgil out for a few more hours?”

  Rose gaped at him. A few more hours? She had given him nine hours already, and had not been able to do anything with her own schoolwork during that period! What had he done with his time? Had he been drawing?

  He had better not have spent the whole day drawing.

  “Henry,” she said, attempting to stay as calm as possible, “I apologize that I came home early. Clearly I was wrong that you’d be interested in the news I found incredibly riveting.”

  It seemed she hadn’t managed to keep the irritation entirely out of her voice. She tried again.

  “I can take Virgil back outside for another hour if you need it,” she went on, trying to return to calm rationality. “Perhaps we can go shopping for the groceries for tomorrow night’s dinner. But after that, I need to come home. I need you to take a turn watching Virgil. I have not been able to do any of my own schoolwork today, and I have a test upcoming, as well.”

  “Yes, but you always get good grades,” Henry said tightly.

  “That would be because I study, not because studying is optional for me!”

  “Fantastic! I’m so glad to know that you getting an A instead of a B is more important than me passing a class instead of failing it!” Henry snarled, slamming his textbook shut.

  “Of course it’s important that you pass your test! That’s why I’ve made a huge sacrifice of time for you today! I’m just saying that I need a turn! I need to study myself, Henry!”

  WHAM! Virgil’s bucket rolled into a wall again.

  “Stop making all that noise!” Henry shouted, flinging his textbook onto the floor. It landed with a thump. Rose realized, to her horror, that Henry’s frantic eyes were starting to look glassy.

  “I’m sorry,” Rose said hastily, running to pick up Virgil. “I’m sorry. I’ll take him and be back in an hour. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come back early. I’m sorry.”

  “Do whatever you want!” Henry cried. His eyes were wild and starting to leak. “It’s not going to do any good, anyway! I’m going to fail it!”

  Rose cast her mind around for some solution that might ameliorate his frantic frenzy. “Can — can I go over things with you? Would it help if we review things together? I’m good at math. If we go over everything you’re confused about one at a time —”

  Henry took a deep breath. His eyes started to look less wild.

  Virgil wriggled and squirmed to get out of Rose’s arms. He was bored! He wanted his bucket! Why wouldn’t his mother let him play in his bucket? It was unfair! He was going to scream! He was going to screaaaaaaaaaaaam!

  Rose tried to shut Virgil’s mouth, but she wasn’t fast enough. A deafening screech burst forth from the tribulation in her arms.

  Someone pounded on the ceiling from above them.

  “That!” Henry shouted. “That’s why I’m going to fail it! I can’t possibly concentrate on anything with him around!”

  Virgil’s father didn’t want him! Virgil’s father was mad at him! Virgil was going to cryyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

  The deafening screams grew even louder.

  In desperation, Rose dropped the tiny dragon on the couch and plugged her hands over her ears. Then a thought occurred to her, and she ran for the phone.

  “What are you doing?” Henry shouted over the screams.

  “Getting help!” Rose yelled back.

  “Help from whom?”

  There was someone on the other end of the party line. “Can you please hang up?” Rose broke into that conversation. “It’s an emergency. I’ll only take a few minutes. Then you can talk again. Please.”

  “Oh, all right, then,” one of the voices on the line said.

  “Talk to you in a minute, Eunice,” the other voice said.

  Thankfully, both women hung up.

  “Help from whom?” Henry demanded.

  But Rose was too busy asking the operator to connect her to her family’s home.

  “Mama?” she said as soon as the phone was answered. “Can I ask a favor? Henry and I both need to study, and we can’t with Virgil around. Can you please take him for a few hours?”

  “We don’t need help from your parents!” Henry shouted, his face turning red.

  “One minute, Mama,” Rose said. She put her hand over the phone. “Yes, we do, and you know it. There’s no shame in that. Grammery lived with us for several years when I was a child, and she minded us all the time.”

  “I don’t want to owe your father anything,” Henry muttered. “He hates me.”

  “He’s not the one I’m asking the favor from. And he doesn’t. He just enjoys pestering people. You need to be a little less thin-skinned about it.”

  Henry didn’t seem mollified.

  Virgil’s screaming stopped, and he helpfully projected a few memories of the last times they had visited Rose’s family. Virgil’s grandfather had called Virgil’s father “the other one.” Virgil’s grandfather always said that. Virgil’s grandfather thought it was very funny, so Virgil thought it was funny, too!

  “It’s not,” Henry muttered.

  Virgil thought it was very funny!

  “It’s not!”

  “Mmm, I suppose we can take him for a few hours,” Rose’s mother said from the phone. “Will you be bringing him by, or would you like us to come pick him up?”

  “Pick him up, please,” Rose said in relief, removing her hand from the receiver. “Walking there and back would take up so much time as to defeat the purpose.”

  “All right. I’ll have your father to get the car ready. We’ll be over as soon as we can.”

  Rose hung up the phone and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. One crisis averted. Now to deal with another: Henry’s ability to pass that test.

  Other one! Virgil thought it was very funny! Other one! Other one! He was going to keep shredding the couch.

  “You’re what?” Henry shouted, snatching the child up from the cushion. Sure enough, there were puncture wounds in the cushion under where his wicked back claws had been.

  Virgil’s tummy hurt now. He was going to —

  Henry yelped and spun the baby around. Virgil let out a fiery belch that scorched the wall beside them.

  Now Virgil’s diaper felt uncomfortable. It was wet. It was wet, wet, wet, wet, wet! He wanted it off! He was going to shred it with his back feet!

  Rose barely dove in time to stop him. The last thing they needed was to have to buy more cloth diapers. The child had already destroyed too many of them, and melted or chewed on an appalling number of safety pins.

  “How long until your parents get here?” Henry demanded.

  Chapter 4: Studying

  Quiet reigned without their son present, and it seemed very strange.

  “Have we ever had this time alone together before?” Henry murmured, looking up from his textbook.

  Rose looked up from her notebook, as well. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I don’t think so. Perhaps while Virgil was napping.”

  “Doesn’t count,” Henry said, shaking his head.

  “Well, then, almost certainly no.”

  Henry set down his book. “Do you realize th
at we never actually took time for a proper courtship?”

  “. . . Yes,” Rose said. “We were a little rushed. But don’t you need to study?”

  “This is more important.”

  Oh, for goodness’s sake, no it isn’t!

  Henry brightened, setting his textbook down. “We should do something nice for Valentine’s Day!”

  “Mmm,” Rose said noncommittally. She had no interest in the silly holiday, but she supposed they could do something if he cared about it. “But right now, you need to study.”

  “I’m going to fail anyway.” He sounded downright cheerful about it. “We might as well spend this time together.”

  Rose stared at him in exasperation. “You’re not going to fail. I taught you all those formulae, didn’t I?”

  “Out of my head already.” He waved a finger near his temple and made a whooshing noise.

  “Then you can study harder,” she said acerbically.

  “Or I can accept the inevitable and stop worrying about it.” He grinned. “C’mere and give me a kiss.”

  “I shall do so,” Rose informed him, “when you have earned it by reciting one of the formulae that you claim has whooshed out of your mind.”

  He groaned. “Slave driver.”

  “I want you to pass,” Rose said. “You have married a woman who cares about grades. You have informed me that yours matter, as well. Thus, I shall make sure you do well at yours.”

  “But I hate it!” Henry whined.

  “Just get past these two classes,” Rose assured him. “Then you’ll be back to your true love: biology.”

  “I hate my major,” Henry groaned. “I wanted to go to an art school, but my family insisted I go to college instead.”

  Rose jerked a little to the side. Well, that was . . . surprising and unsettling news.

  “Did you not want to be able to support a family?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  Henry pouted. He seemed to be in a childish mood. “You sound like my father. ‘Nobody makes any money at art!’”

  Rose hesitated. Mindful of not starting another fight when they had just barely escaped the last one, she said cautiously, “I’m sure there are some who do.”

  “But not many. I know, I know, I know,” Henry groaned, shaking his head. “That’s why I let my father talk me into it. But I wish he hadn’t. You’d have still married me if I’d been in art school, right?”

  Um, Rose thought. That was a difficult question to answer, seeing as she hadn’t experienced it. It was possible, but she doubted she would have been thrilled about it. She had grown to love Henry now, but they had been strangers initially.

  “I suspect my father would have been less eager to give his permission if he’d known that you intended to pursue art as a career,” she said diplomatically.

  Henry’s face clouded over. “It’s not fair, is it? The way I’m expected to do something I hate instead of what I’m good at.”

  Rose opened her mouth to remind him that, being a man and a father, he had a duty to provide for his family, and he should know that. But then it occurred to her that there were many people who would raise similar objections to a woman and a mother who wished to go into a complex science field.

  She sighed. “Perhaps it would have been better if we’d never met one another, or Virgil. Both of us would have found it easier to pursue our chosen occupations had we been single.”

  Henry’s head jerked back. “Don’t say that! Never say that! You two are the best things that have ever happened to me!”

  Rose gave him a doubtful stare. “That’s absolutely not true. Our son is such a bother, and I am . . . hardly a typical wife. You must find us difficult to live with.”

  “Not true,” Henry said obstinately.

  “Is it not?” Rose asked, pointing to her textbook. “The fact that I will not give up my goals makes your life more difficult.”

  Henry paused. He hesitated. “All right, there may be some truth to that. But it’s this blasted schoolwork that’s the problem. Not you. Or Virgil. I love you.”

  “Me, or Virgil?”

  “Both, obviously, although the boy not quite so much when he’s screaming.”

  Rose smiled slightly.

  “But really, you aren’t the problem,” Henry insisted. “I wanted to be married and to have kids. I chose this. I’m glad I have it. What I didn’t choose was the blasted math classes.”

  “That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have been happier with a more normal family,” Rose said in a low voice.

  She should, perhaps, have left the subject alone, but she couldn’t leave the point unsaid. It had been weighing on her for a long time.

  “Pshaw!” Henry waved that aside. “Being the first couple to raise a baby dragon is a pain in the neck, but sometimes it’s so exciting, I want to burst with pride. Virgil’s a blessing more than a curse.”

  Rose blinked back tears, determined not to let Henry see. The times when she felt like a failure as a mother were exceeded only by the times when she felt like a failure as a wife. She simply was not romantic by nature, and her husband was.

  Left to herself, she didn’t think she would have ever married. She hadn’t ever been fully opposed to the idea, but the thought of husband or children had never been a high priority in her mind. She simply didn’t think she would have bothered.

  And yet, here she was, with both husband and child while still not having achieved her dream. She could not give it up, would not, although she knew that would continue to make life more difficult for her husband and child.

  Sometimes she even questioned why she cared so much about paleontology, given that she had a real-life dragon living with her. But a living dragon was not the same as a fossil. A living dragon was a person who had to be loved and cared for. A fossil was a mystery to be solved.

  The mysteries to solve riveted her and took her breath away. The duty of caring for an infant was exhausting, not enlightening. And as long as she held to her promise to herself that she would never treat him as a subject to study from a cold and analytical perspective, it would always be that way.

  While she loved Henry and Virgil, she also knew that her emotion was far more reserved than Henry’s, and certainly more reserved than the wildly uninhibited infant’s.

  Knowing that made her feel inadequate. It made her feel like she was not enough, and never could be. Sometimes she thought, If only . . .

  If only she had not met Henry.

  If only she had not met Virgil.

  If only her life had stayed on the simple, single track that she had planned to stay on for her entire life.

  Why had she veered off into this tangent?

  Why had she ended up in this position where her only option was to fail, and fail, and fail all over again?

  “Is something wrong?” Henry asked.

  Rose shook her head, turning her face away.

  “Well, you know if you don’t tell me, I can just ask Virgil what it is,” Henry joked.

  Rose gave him a livid glare.

  “Or not,” he said quickly. “Or not. But, um . . . can you please tell me? Did I do something wrong?”

  Rose looked down at the carpet for a long moment.

  “I am not a wife who darns your socks,” she said finally. “You want a wife who darns your socks.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Henry asked incredulously. “The socks?”

  “No!” Rose said angrily. “It’s about you not thinking my tests matter as much as yours do! It’s about the fact that I think you should’ve married somebody who’s happy to be your housemaid, because I’m not that, and I’m never going to be, and I don’t want to be! If that’s my role, what am I? I’m a failure!”

  “I’ll do it myself!” Henry said defensively. “I said I would! I can mend my own socks! I just hate doing it!”

  “You keep putting them back on the couch every morning that it’s my turn to watch Virgil, as if you’re hoping that I’ll do them for yo
u if you just leave them there long enough.”

  Henry bit his lip, looking guilty. “Well . . .”

  Rose picked up her textbook. “I need to study.”

  “And apparently I need to mend my socks,” Henry muttered, getting up from the couch. “Beats studying, anyway.”

  He started to walk off towards the bedroom.

  Rose lowered her textbook a fraction of an inch. “Wait. Come here.”

  “Why?” he asked, looking baffled.

  She smiled slightly. “Because that deserves a kiss.”

  Chapter 5: Solved

  Rose felt less than confident about Henry’s chances of passing his test the next day, seeing as he had spent the entire rest of the evening mending his socks instead of studying, but she could hardly complain, seeing as he had been doing it for her sake.

  Despite her trying to dissuade him from spending the entire evening on that activity, he had stubbornly persisted, and then insisted on taking Virgil out of the house for a walk after his grandparents brought him back, so that Rose could have time studying.

  Which she appreciated, but she . . . did want him to pass his tests, too.

  Before he left, Henry jokingly held out one of his textbooks to Virgil. “Want to breathe fire on this?”

  The sleepy dragon opened one eye.

  Virgil wasn’t burpy right now. Virgil didn’t want to chew things, either. Maybe he could claw it instead.

  He sleepily reached out a claw at the book.

  “Henry!” Rose cried. “Don’t give him ideas!”

  Henry snickered and tossed the book overhead, then dropped it on the couch.

  “Your mother’s right, Virgil,” he said with mock solemnity. “Only destroy my textbook after I’ve passed the class and don’t need it anymore.”

  Okay. Virgil would remember. He would wait until his father said to breathe fire on it.

  “Don’t do it at all!” Rose cried.

  Henry left the house whistling, seeming entirely carefree.

  Rose watched him go with mixed feelings.

  While her husband seemed much more cheerful now, and that was certainly a good thing, she hoped he hadn’t given up on passing those tests completely.