Raising Dragons

by Bryan Davis

  Billy turned around and looked out the back window. “Try again! The cop’s still not watching, but the truck driver’s coming this way!” He grabbed his mother’s wrist before she could turn the key. “No. Wait a second!”

  She glanced at the rearview mirror. “Why is the back hatch open?”

  Slam! A loud thud of metal on metal startled the riders. “Try it now,” came a shout from the back. They turned to see the truck driver waving. Apparently he had done something to the engine and slammed the rear access closed.

  She turned the key again, and this time the engine chugged twice and finally rumbled to life. She waved to the trucker as she pulled forward, careful to give the motor enough gas this time.

  “Billy,” his mother said, “do you remember the airport’s main number?”

  “Sure.”

  “Call and alert Security there. Describe the car, and ask them to put a guard on your dad’s airplane.”

  Billy took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He looked back at Bonnie. She had curled to one side, resting her shoulder against the back of the seat with her eyes tightly shut. Seeing her in so much pain drove daggers through his heart.

  After a quick look around, he found the cell phone on the floorboard. He snatched it up and punched in the number. “I’ll have them in a second, Mom. Let’s hope we get through in time.”

  Chapter 9

  HARTANNA’S DAUGHTER

  When they arrived at the county airport, Billy scanned the access road and the parking lot for Whittier’s Cadillac. There was no sign of it. Besides the two police cars at the gate, the field of blacktop held only a few widely spaced vehicles. They parked the car near the terminal, and the trio made its way toward the door. Billy wanted to run—to dash ahead and look for his dad, to check on their airplane, and to make sure the coast was clear. But having to carry the box and book in his arms forced him to step with care. He couldn’t even see his own feet, much less the parking lot curb. And his mother and Bonnie hobbled along slowly. He couldn’t leave them behind; that wouldn’t be a manly thing to do. He contented himself with keeping their pace and watching for the slayer.

  As soon as they entered the terminal building, Billy’s mom headed straight to the security desk. Her limp was less noticeable, more like she had a pebble in her shoe than a sprained ankle. At the desk sat Manny, head of the security department for as long as Billy could remember, a nice old guy, but Billy wondered if the challenges of airport security in this day and age had passed him by.

  Manny rose to his feet as Billy’s mom approached. “Hello, Mrs. Bannister.”

  “Manny, is Jared here?”

  “No, Mrs. Bannister,” Manny replied, pulling his holster up as he walked around the desk to join her. “He logged out a while ago. As soon as your son called I sent a man to the hangar, and no one’s seen the car he talked about.”

  “May we go to our plane now?”

  “Sure. I’ll escort you myself. Let me call my man to see if everything’s clear.”

  Manny picked up a phone and punched a couple of numbers. “Jerry? Any sign of trouble? . . . Good. Did you search the plane? . . . Perfect. I’m bringing Mrs. Bannister down.” He hung up the phone and pulled a cart from behind his desk. “Let’s go.”

  Billy plopped his box and book on the cart and peered at the book’s title. The old leather carried tiny cracks throughout its worn gray skin, and the darker inscription barely stood out against its background. He could still make out the words, “Fama Regis.” Hmmm. I didn’t see the title when Dad showed the book to me. I’ll have to remember to ask him what it means.

  Manny grabbed the cart handle and led the party across the terminal waiting area and through an exit on the opposite side. Billy paused at the water fountain near the door to cool his breath once again before hurrying to catch up.

  Once out in the breeze, the cool air flapped his thin short sleeves, and he crossed his arms, rubbing them briskly with his hands. Through all the excitement, his lack of a sweater hadn’t bothered him, but now he wished he had picked one up at home. It didn’t matter; his sweater was being put to good use.

  Billy looked over at Bonnie. With her head down and her eyelids half-closed, he couldn’t read her expression, but her tense jaw and deep forehead lines revealed her agony. Billy clutched the front of his shirt and shivered again. Why did Bonnie’s pain keep sending those cold daggers through his heart? After all, he barely knew her. Their only connection was a vague, mysterious dragon ancestry, and yet he felt as though he had known her for centuries, like their encounter in the schoolyard had launched an adventure planted in ancient soil along with the roots of time itself.

  Bonnie glanced in Billy’s direction. She gave him a brief, tortured smile, and in her wet, weary eyes he read an uninvited darkness. Was it mourning? Loneliness? He felt she was finally willing to expose her deep, crushing burden, but not just to anyone; it had to be someone she could trust, someone who would understand. Before today she had no one to tell—no mother, no father, and, it seemed, no friends at school.

  Billy wanted to put his arm around her just to say, “I’m with you. Don’t worry,” but he had no idea how she would take it. He knew it would be innocent, like it was when they held hands in the car, but would she know that? She had also hugged him a little while ago to keep her balance, but did her warm embrace signal anything else? What was really in the mind of this dragon girl? Could he trust her? Who was she, anyway?

  Billy’s own dragon revelations gnawed away at his sanity. He couldn’t even trust his own feelings; how could he possibly know hers? But if she felt the same suffocating gloom he was feeling, she probably could use a comforting hug. Then again, with all the cuts on her shoulders, she might not like to be hugged or even touched there. Yes, that’s it, too many cuts. Of course she wouldn’t like it, right? He saw a pebble in his path and kicked it hard across the pavement.

  After walking about a hundred yards on a series of wide concrete pads and grassy medians, they reached a large hangar, a very familiar structure to Billy. Although it was nothing more than a big, elongated garage, the plain, gray metal barn was a welcome sight, his dad’s workplace, a haven of safety and comfort. He had spent many summer hours there, flown with his dad dozens of times, and even helped work on the Cessna. Normally, he and his mother would have just walked right to it, but because of the danger, an escort seemed necessary.

  The airport security team had definitely taken the warnings seriously. The first hangar door was the only one open, and a uniformed guard, Jerry, Manny had called him, stood watch right outside. Although Billy didn’t know Jerry personally, he thought he had seen him at least once or twice.

  Just as they were about to enter the hangar, they heard a loud yell coming from behind them. The whole group spun around to see a tall, athletic man sprinting in their direction.

  “Marilyn! Billy!”

  “Dad!” Billy ran to meet him, relief flooding his mind. For the moment, he forgot all the mysteries; the dragon inside hid itself once again, and the little boy emerged to drink in his daddy’s warm embrace. The chill of autumn fled as his father’s strong arms wrapped him up, generating the holy heat of pure love.

  But when the warmth radiated into Billy’s face, the blood-swelled sting returned to his mouth, and with it the sting of betrayal. This was the same man, with these same arms, who had hugged him good night a thousand times and chased away all the monsters from under the bed. With every bedtime story he had opportunities to explain the truth, to prepare his son for what he would surely learn some day on his own. But he wasted them.

  And was this man really a monster himself? Was he really one of the good dragons? As far-fetched as it might have seemed just a few days ago, every word this dragon spoke, every emotion he portrayed, was now suspect, perhaps a hidden lie. And worse, the dragon specter that lurked within Billy’s own frame came out to haunt him once again.

  Billy pulled away and turned his head, trying to find so
mething else to look at, anything but his father’s eyes. He knew he still loved his father, but he felt detached, like this man just wasn’t quite Dad anymore. He felt awful even thinking this way, but he just couldn’t help it. It seemed that claws of anguish threatened to rip his heart in two. He had enjoyed the manly embrace, but somehow it brought the cruel, stinging fire of a dragon.

  Manny spoke up from the hangar door. “I guess you won’t be needing me.” He turned and walked slowly back to the terminal building, leaving the cart just inside the door. He nodded toward Jerry, and the guard began walking toward another hangar.

  Billy’s mother and father locked both hands into one another’s and kissed tenderly, a hint of passion hovering in their touch. His mother sighed. “You won’t believe what we just went through.”

  “I’ll give you the chance to tell me all about it in just a minute,” Billy’s father replied. He turned to greet the unfamiliar face. “You must be Bonnie.”

  Bonnie managed a weak smile and looked up at him curiously. “How did you know?” Her hair flew around in disarray, and dried tears painted faint trails on her flushed cheeks, making her look less presentable than she probably would have liked.

  “I saw Walter back at home. He told me.”

  Billy jumped toward his dad, but he kept his voice low. “Then did he tell you about Dr. Whittier, that he’s a dragon slayer?”

  His father answered the question absentmindedly. “I figured that out.” His thoughts were obviously elsewhere. For some reason his gaze lingered on Bonnie’s face. He looked into her eyes, staring at her as if trying to read her mind.

  “What’s wrong?” Bonnie asked. Her face turned a brighter red, and she put a hand through her messy hair, pulling a few stray wisps out of her face.

  “Hartanna!” he whispered. “You must be Hartanna’s daughter!”

  Bonnie’s eyes lit up, and the joy of hearing that name broke through in a wide smile. “You could tell by looking at me?”

  Billy’s father glanced at the hangar security guard, who was standing by another door, and he leaned over to speak to Bonnie, smiling. “Anyone who’s been around dragons as much as I have can tell a dragon child when he sees one. I’ll explain later.” He then looked back at Billy. His smile dissolved, and his eyes darkened.

  Billy had an idea of what his father was thinking. The secrets he had kept for so many years were coming back to haunt him; he had exposed his family to danger. These dragon slayers still hunted, still lurked in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unprepared. And Billy was unprepared, unaware of his peril. Both he and his father knew whose fault it was.

  Billy didn’t know why, but he felt sorry for his dad. Yet, if only his father had shared the burden, they could have borne it together, man to man. He walked closer and forced himself to look imploringly into his father’s eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  His father’s frown melted, and he put his arm around Billy, looking deeply into his eyes. “I have no excuses. I know that now.” He then guided him toward the hangar door while the others followed. “I’ll explain more soon, but first let’s get in the Cessna and get out of here. If the slayer gathers his forces, we don’t want to be around. My guess is he knows about our plane, so he’s sure to try to get to it.” With a loving pull, Billy’s father drew him closer, and his charred sleeve smeared soot on Billy’s shirt.

  Billy’s mom reached over and caressed her husband’s arm. “Your sleeve’s burned! What happened?”

  He pulled his arm back and picked at the torn, dangling shreds that covered his reddened skin. “It’s not too bad, just superficial burns. The slayer’s goons torched our house.”

  She pulled her hand up to her mouth and cried out. “Torched our house!” Billy put his arm around her shoulder, and he stared at his father with his jaw hanging slack.

  His father grabbed the cart on his way through the hangar door and gestured for the others to follow. “Don’t worry. We’ve got insurance, but most importantly, we’re all safe.” He picked up the book from the cart. “You brought Fama Regis and our emergency box, so all our photo albums and papers are here, and we still have our livelihood.” He took his wife’s hand and gently pulled her along. “But we have to get to a safe place.”

  “But what about our other keepsakes? What about our memories?”

  He put the end of his finger on her lips and then removed it to kiss her again tenderly. “Everything else is just stuff. It can all be replaced, even memories. We’ll make new ones. We’ll rebuild.”

  With tears flowing, Billy’s mom sniffed and squeezed her husband’s hand. “That’s not as easy as it sounds.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. “No . . . You’re right. It’s not easy. But we still have our business. We still have Merlin.”

  Bonnie walked slowly into the darker interior of the hangar. “Merlin? Who’s Merlin?”

  He released his wife’s hand and walked the few paces to the first airplane in the cavernous room, reaching up to slap it on the side of the cockpit. “Bonnie, meet Merlin.”

  Bonnie folded her arms across her chest, her pain still apparent in her wrinkled forehead. A sweet smile graced her lips as she strolled around the nose of the plane, but her voice remained weak. “He’s a handsome one, all right.”

  Billy’s father climbed the stairs to board the plane, holding the book under his arm. “Even though we don’t have to worry much about Dr. Whittier, or whatever he’s calling himself, we should get going. He won’t be able to battle me alone, and it’ll take him some time to prepare.”

  The other three followed, with Billy trailing. He stepped carefully up the stairs, once again lugging the family box. With every step, a strange feeling grew, like someone was watching from a hidden corner, or the fear of being alone in the dark. The hairs on his neck stood on end, and his stomach burned. When he reached the top, he looked back at his surroundings. There was still no sign of Dr. Whittier, and the guard was nowhere in sight. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the feeling. Everything seemed in order.

  His father slipped into the pilot’s seat, keeping the book at his side, and after depositing his load in the cargo area, Billy took the copilot’s place. Bonnie sat behind Billy in one of the two-seat benches that lined the right side of the plane. Billy’s mom slid into a single seat across the aisle, a first-aid kit already in her lap. She popped it open and began rummaging through it.

  The plane’s motor chugged and then purred, sounding like a pride of satisfied lions digesting a recent kill. Seconds later they taxied out of the hangar, and Billy’s dad angled his head toward the passengers. “Bonnie, are you afraid of flying?”

  “No, not at all,” she replied softly.

  Billy and his mother laughed out loud, but his father just shrugged his shoulders. “What’s so funny?”

  “You’ll see!” Billy’s mother replied. She turned to Bonnie. “I’ll help you pull the sweater off, honey.” She reached across the aisle and lifted the bottom hem. It wasn’t easy. The combination of dried sweat and blood made the process sticky and painful, and when the sweater finally came off, Billy grimaced at the dark purple splotches showing through her otherwise blue sweatshirt. Bonnie sighed in great relief, and Billy’s mom folded the sweater before turning to the cockpit. “Take a look at Bonnie now!”

  Billy’s father turned. Bonnie’s wings seemed to fill the whole cabin. She had spread them out to flap a couple of times and then folded them back in to let Billy’s mom nurse her wounds.

  “Whew!” Bonnie said, arching her back. “That feels better!”

  Billy glanced over at his father to see his reaction, but he didn’t appear to be surprised. He smirked, chuckled a bit, and turned toward the front. “So that’s why you’re not afraid of flying. I knew Hartanna had a daughter, but I didn’t know about the wings!” He stared out over the dashboard for several seconds. “Marilyn, could she be the one?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” she replied.

&
nbsp; “The one for what?” Bonnie asked.

  Billy’s father looked at Bonnie from under his dark, reddish eyebrows. “I’ll try to explain when we’re airborne, but I’m not sure I can give you a very good answer.” He turned Merlin toward the runway and waited for clearance from the tower while another plane settled in for a landing. “Well, I hope this machine isn’t too much of a letdown for you, Bonnie. It’s a Cessna Caravan. It’s not as agile as a dragon, but it’s a lot better equipped for what I have to do. I carry corporate execs around, maybe an occasional troop of sky divers, or cargo that absolutely, positively has to be there today.”

  “You men keep your faces forward,” Billy’s mother called out. “I’m going to have to pull her sweatshirt up in the back.”

  The men obeyed and listened to the conversation coming from behind them. Billy heard his mother’s voice, tender and loving.

  “The stitching on these holes where your wings come out is very well done. Did you do it yourself?”

  “Yes. My mother taught me.”

  “I’ll push your wings back through. They’re sort of like big buttonholes, aren’t they? And you sewed in hidden zippers at the bottom.”

  “Yes. I had to make them big enough to get my shirts on and off by myself.”

  “That’s amazing! How did you keep your secret from your foster parents?”

  “They don’t pay much attention to me. I think they’re in the foster system to find a younger child they can adopt, so I’m just there until the state can find someone else to take me.”

  “Why are you in Castlewood? We heard Hartanna was living in the Northwest and that she had a daughter, but there hasn’t been any other word for years.”

  “Well . . . that’s a long story.”

  “Okay. I’m going to start wiping the dried blood off.”