by Paul Cude
"It's not too bad," she mumbled, knowing how hard all the doctors and nurses around her (all dragons) were working to try and put things right.
"Well, if there's anything you need," added the king thoughtfully, "don't hesitate to drop my name into the conversation. All the staff know I'm on the lookout for you, and have explicit instructions to contact me on your behalf should you ask."
"Thank you," replied Richie, genuinely touched.
"It's great to see you," put in Peter. "How come you're here? Did you have business this way?"
It was then that the king's expression turned sour, and Richie cottoned on to the real reason for his visit. She didn't even have to wait for him to say it. But he did.
Having had decades of experience in the top job (in the world), not knowing how to say something was rather a novel experience, not one he'd recommend though. In the end, all he could think to do was come out with it, and deal with the repercussions as they arose.
Ignoring Peter, and taking Richie's right hand, he stared deeply into her beautiful brown eyes.
"I'm sorry my dear, I truly am. I tried everything in my power, and more, to get them to overturn their decision, but in the end, I could do nothing."
Richie just nodded, her eyes starting to water. Unlike the young lacrosse player, Peter still hadn't realised what was coming next.
"It has been overwhelmingly decided by the council that because of your irreversible condition, you are to undergo a stage three memory wipe that will allow you to recall your time above ground, but nothing else, enabling you to keep the life that's been your cover ever since you left the nursery ring."
"WHAT?" Peter exploded.
"I'm sorry. I truly am."
"You can't be serious, not in a million years!" exclaimed the young hockey playing dragon.
Standing, the king's demeanour turned grim.
"But I am. I understand Peter, I really do. And when I said I tried everything in my power to change things, you couldn't possibly know what that might yet cost me. But it was all for nothing, almost as if things have been taken out of my hands. The council's decision on this matter is final, with it already having been passed over to the priesthood for them to deal with. My understanding is that young Richie here will be discharged towards the end of the week. After that she'll be given three weeks to get all her dragon affairs in order. It will then be a matter of the priests tending to her somewhere above ground, probably her home I would guess. And then it will be done. It can't be changed by anyone I'm afraid."
Tears streaked down Richie's cheeks as she lay propped up by her pillows in bed. Peter still faced the king.
"I'm really sorry to have caused you both so much pain. I did think, however, that you'd both really prefer to hear the news from me, rather than some faceless official."
"Thank you Sire," sniffed Richie through her tears.
"I'm so sorry it's come to this. You do understand that you'll never again remember all this, everything you've come from, once the memory wipe has been carried out?"
Richie nodded.
Peter just stood looking at the king, his face almost set in stone.
"I know that look, CHILD," scolded the monarch.
"Never say never," exclaimed Peter.
"I know you're angry and upset, but there's nothing you can do. If I can't change things, how on earth do you hope to do so?"
Saying nothing, mainly from fear of crying, already his mind whirled through the possibilities, but he could only come up with one. One hope, one chance. Letting his face morph into a cold, calculating smile, right in front of the king, he hadn't meant it to be mean or cutting, but that's what it turned out to be.
Apologising once more before taking his leave, the monarch claimed he had to get back to his huge backlog of work, which was partly true.
After that, the two friends were at a loss. Peter stayed a while, but it was awkward as he had no idea of what to say or do. Richie tried to stay positive, even cracking the odd joke or two, but she couldn't fool him. He could see just how badly hurt she'd been by the news, and vowed to himself there and then that he would stop them from wiping her memory at all costs, no matter what it took. Walking out of the door twenty minutes later, he prayed that his one hope would choose to help him, and would indeed have the answer he was looking for.
13 Time To Dragon Up
Needing the air, he'd decided to walk, giving him yet more time to consider where he was going and why. It had been over two weeks now, and he'd heard nothing from her. Not a word. No phone call, text, email or letter. She, of course, had no job at the moment, well... as far as he knew, what with the devastation of the clubhouse and all. And although she may have been out of the loop so to speak, she must have known that he and Tank had been cleared of having anything to do with the clubhouse's destruction. Somehow he'd assumed that she would have got in contact by now, not saying sorry, but just to see how he was. But all was quiet on the Janice front. Strolling along below the shivering boughs of tall trees lining the road inundated him with thoughts of future possibilities. With everything that had happened since that fateful day, and everything going on, seeking her out had become all but impossible... well, for a week or so. After that, it just became... awkward, scary. The more he thought about going to see her, the more excuses he made to himself to put it off. He had to go to work to see Garrett about the clubhouse, to go to the hospital to see Richie. More and more excuses he'd made for himself, until there were no more and he could put it off no longer. The mere thought of seeing her brought a lump to his throat, made his legs go weak and set his stomach rumbling in cruel anticipation. One of the reasons he'd come on foot was that it was easier not to be spotted and therefore easier to turn round and head back without anyone knowing that he'd ever been there. In his mind, he knew there was still a very good chance that he would get within sight of her house and be too afraid to go any further. Given all that he'd been through these last couple of years, this excursion should have been quite painless and relatively easy. But it wasn't. Hurting from an almost physical pain inside, that day, when the clubhouse had been destroyed, had been harder than facing Manson on the icy cold Astroturf pitch when the dark dragon had tried to steal the majority of Cropptech's laminium. And not because he and Tank had barely made it out alive or even because, at the time, they'd thought Richie's life had been extinguished. No! It was the look on Janice's face when the police officers arrested them and bundled them into the back of their cars. That look still haunted him every day, and every night in his dreams. A look that said, 'I trusted you. I loved you... and you BETRAYED ME!' Just the very thought of that moment made him choke.
Abruptly he stopped and leant up against one of the mighty trees right outside someone's lovely four bedroomed detached house. Noticing the curtains twitching, the person inside watching his every move, he couldn't have cared less. What mattered was that he was just round the corner from her house, and he knew that he needed to find the extra courage to take him there.
'Come on,' he thought. 'You can do it.' What was that phrase he'd heard so often, the one that annoyed him so much? Oh, that's right. Man up! He didn't so much need to man up, as dragon up!
Breathing threatening to overtake him in short, sharp bursts, he focused on everything he had to say, having spent days preparing it, thinking about the words and how they might sound. But here and now, the words seemed to spill from his head, letters drifting casually off into the wind, floating away, well beyond his reach. Feeling light headed and as though he were about to throw up at the same time, out of the corner of his eye once again he noticed movement behind the curtains. Knowing that if he waited any longer he risked someone coming out to see what was going on, or worse still... calling an ambulance if they thought him unwell, or both. All of which he could do without. Taking a deep breath, his head vacant of all the words he'd prepared, he straightened up, strode purposefully round the corner and headed directly for her front gate, both disappointed and exc
ited in equal measure to see her pink car parked outside. Resolutely he paced up the path to her front door, determined to carry out what he'd spent days planning and thinking about. His body knocked on the door, while ironically, his brain RAN AWAY!
A few shuffling footsteps later, the lock on the door started to turn, giving rise to a general feeling of weakness and nausea. As the door started to move, he wished he'd followed his brain. A beautiful face with gorgeous blonde hair slinked around the gap in the door, its expression of neutrality changing instantly to a frown on noticing who was there.
"Oh... it's you!" uttered Janice.
"Uhhh... h... h... hi," was all he could get out.
"What do you want?" she asked circumspectly.
With his brain laughing at him from far off in the distance, not offering up any help at all in the way of an intelligent response, and the rest of him unable to ascertain the reason for her unhappiness, he barely managed to mumble,
"Can I come in please?"
It was all that he could think of to say.
To say there was an awkward pause was an understatement.
"I don't think that's a good idea," answered the downcast bar worker.
Feeling as though his head would explode, he hadn't gone through all of this only to be turned away... NOT NOW!
"PLEASE!" he begged, "just for a moment."
Against her better judgement, she held open the door and let him pass. Scuttling through, he started to head towards the lounge as she closed the door. It took him a second or so before he realised she hadn't followed and was in fact standing angrily, back against the front door.
"Say whatever it is you've come to say and then... go."
At that moment, he would have done ANYTHING to rid her face of that look. Anger, resentment, derision and betrayal were all there in equal measure.
'Perhaps she hasn't heard,' he thought hopefully. 'In which case, as soon as I tell her... BOOM! Back to normal.' And that was what he wanted most, as he'd come to realise long ago that he loved her, more than anyone or anything.
"Tank and I were cleared of having anything to do with the destruction of the clubhouse," he stated emphatically.
But before he got any further, his hopes were all dashed at once.
"I know."
This time it was his body that wanted to run away, as every molecule within it screamed,
"Uh oh!"
"Then I'm not sure I understand?" was all that he could babble.
Fire, anger and rage tore across her face. Before today, he'd never seen a human so angry. Storming up to him, her face having lost its delicate complexion, replaced by a not very becoming shade of scarlet, she poked her index finger firmly into his chest, looked him right in the eye and bawled,
"YOU LIED TO ME!"
Nearly falling backwards, that's how startled he was, he tried to stay upright but it was difficult with his mind spinning this way and that, thinking back on so many things, trying to see where he'd slipped up and just how he could put things right. More information, that's what he needed, at least that's what his very confused mind was telling him.
"About what?" he whispered gently.
She went ballistic. For a moment, his body felt as though he were back on the Astroturf on that cold, fateful night, once again facing the dark dragon Manson.
"Oh, I don't know... how about EVERYTHING?!"
His head spun more than before.
'What does she know? How does she know it?' he just about managed to think, using all his effort.
"What happened at the clubhouse?" she growled.
"Uhhh... you know what happened. The... the... there was a bomb, Tank and I tried to defuse it, but we couldn't and... BOOM!" he replied, waving his hands in the air for effect.
"And that's it?"
The question wasn't yelled, it was asked softly, meaningfully and with intent, the words ringing right through him, shaking him to his very foundation. It felt as though he'd reached a tipping point, balancing precariously, his very soul on the line. Another lie to the one he loved would be enough to send him over the edge into the abyss, into oblivion, losing everything that he believed in, stood for and ultimately... her! Sensibly he kept quiet.
"Cat got your tongue?" she asked sarcastically.
This wasn't how he'd planned things at all.
"You might have been cleared by the police," she commented passionately, "but there was certainly more going on in that clubhouse than you let on. You must think I'm a very stupid little girl."
Shaking his head ever so slightly, he didn't dare to interrupt her well deserved, and ultimately correct, rant.
"I struggled at the time to understand how nobody heard your friend break down the office door, but looking back on it, it seems all but impossible. As well, both of you knew all about the bomb, what it was, and more importantly... what was going on, something you didn't share with me then, and seem more than a little unwilling to share with me now, despite coming over here for what seems like some kind of forgiveness. And then of course," she continued, "the mysterious bright yellow light which flashed around the clubhouse, and this is but a guess... contained the explosion!"
Peter swallowed hard. This was very, very, very... bad!
"Am I wrong? Feel free to tell me if I am."
Unable to bring himself to say anything, tears started to build in the corners of his eyes. It broke his heart that he'd brought her to this.
"I don't understand!" she spat. "You were cleared by the police, and from everything that I know, it does seem that you were both doing your best to save everybody and the clubhouse. Tell me the truth... please!"
More than anything in the world, he wanted to tell her. In fact, he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life. But he knew if he did, it would go very badly indeed. Almost certainly the best that would happen would be a memory wipe for her and a life underground for him. And that was the best scenario he could come up with. Silence seemed the better option.
"I can't..." he uttered.
Tears raced down her beautiful face, leaping off at her chin and with a little gravity added to the mix, ended up splashing delicately onto the hallway floor. Head bowed, he watched the tiny teardrops fall in exquisite detail, anxiously searching for any way to get their relationship back onto an even keel.
"I thought you were different from other men," Janice sniffed, totally oblivious to the irony of her words.
"I am," he whispered.
"And yet you continue to lie to me. After everything. Forget what I did on that day! That I lied and colluded with you and your rugby playing friend. Lied to all the staff and everyone inside the clubhouse. Lied to the fire service and the police when they turned up. Forget all that... all of which I did for you. I trusted you!" she yelled. "I fell in love with you. You were all I ever wanted. But all it got me was LIES! LIES, LIES, AND MORE LIES!"
Shaking violently, her tears threatened to flood the building, a mixture of anger and sadness indelibly etched on her face.
"GO," she ordered, pointing at the front door. "GET OUT!"
Feeling numb, almost as if it weren't his body he was in and that he was just watching it all unfold, happening to someone else, he had but one thought.
'It can't end like this. Can it?'
Head spinning like a tumble dryer, he did the only thing he could. He told her the truth.
"I love you," he whispered.
"Then tell me exactly what happened," she spluttered.
"I can't... I'm sorry."
"GET OUT!" she demanded. "I never want to see you again."
Knowing then that it was done, despite his overwhelming desire to, he just couldn't tell her. And all he was doing at the moment was causing her misery and pain. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, harder than fighting Manson, harder than coming here tonight. Dodging past her, he turned the lock and walked out, the door slamming firmly shut behind him. Not needing his enhanced dragon senses to hear her wailing and cryin
g on the other side of the door, on automatic pilot his legs walked down the path and back onto the street, where they headed in the direction of his house, the rest of him failing to notice the mysterious stranger walking behind him in the shadows, in much the same direction. Later, he would have no recollection of the journey home, even though he'd most certainly done it. Sleep eluded him, his thoughts centred on what he'd put the young woman through, wondering whether he'd ever see her again.
'Perhaps,' he mused, 'this is why dragon/human relationships were banned in the first place.'
Alone in the dark, Janice spent the entire night crying herself to sleep.
14 Suits You Sir!
Strolling down the poorly lit path, dipping in and out of the shadows, so many things played on his mind. Normally life was good, but he'd been plagued by dark dreams and dreadful nightmares ever since that fateful day, and they were so bad now that even his wife had commented on it. So here he was, on his way to do something about it, however small that might be in the scale of things.
By now the lighting had dropped away to virtually nothing, but that didn't bother him, as he'd walked this way hundreds, no... thousands of times, and felt securely shrouded in the dark. The thick juicy sound of mud squelching beneath his dark brown leather boots jolted him back to the present. Almost there, he was looking forward to their reaction to the unusual request he was about to present. Extending his dragon senses, he found solace in knowing he was totally alone down here. Pausing between two run down stone houses, he slipped into an impossibly small gap between them, glad for once that in his human form he was incredibly thin and gangly. Even a few more extra pounds would probably have prevented him from taking this route, one that only he, and he alone, knew. Squeezing sideways quietly between the homes, wary of scraping either wall, even a little, eventually he reached the end, facing a solid wall of rock, some forty feet or so tall. Reaching out with his mind, he found the tiny switches embedded in the wall, that had so long ago been installed there. Giving each one a nudge with his mind, he automatically moved his feet and hands, knowing that hand and footholds would now appear as if from nowhere. Scampering up and over the wall, he leapt down into a small, dark, secluded cobbled courtyard with a solitary metal door set into the moss covered rock that tailed off into the distance. It was cold here and his breath froze as he exhaled on landing. This was not a particularly pleasant place for a dragon, given the damp and chilly conditions. On the plus side, he had managed to acquire the property at an absolutely knock down price. And despite its drawbacks, it was perfect for the use that it had been put to. Blowing on his hands to warm them up, he proceeded to run them over the protruding rivets that framed the outside door, his bony fingers depressing some while ignoring others. Six seconds later the door slid sideways, revealing a darkened interior. Glad to have returned, he weaved past a couple of grubby sinks hanging off the wall, making his way towards the faint sound of voices. Thirty seconds later, having crisscrossed the maze of twisted corridors, he walked into what can only be described as an abandoned hangar, littered with desks, strewn with the latest high tech computer equipment from the human world above. By now the voices had stopped, each one replaced with a smile.
