by Jason Beil
Bobbing for Dragons
A Love Story
Jason N. Beil, Editor
Written by Derek E. Keeling, J Bryden Loyd, P.L. Blair, Kellie, Recluse, Ella Stradling, Eric C. Zawadzki, Kenneth J. Mayer, Homecooking, Marc Iverson, Martin D. Gibbs, Pipeline, and Jason N. Beil
Copyright 2013 by Jason N. Beil and the individual authors
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Gathering the Pieces
Chapter 2: Let the Games Begin
Other Books by the Authors
Editor’s Note
Chapter 1: Gathering the Pieces
Bob’s clammy hands gripped the handle of the serrated knife with such force it turned his bulging knuckles white. He felt lightheaded. The hunger inside him had been striving to reach out and do the deed that lay before him. It wasn’t his first time.
This will be the last one, I promise, he thought as he licked his lips.
He loved it. There was no point in trying to fool himself.
No one will even notice if I cover it up well enough.
He looked around to see if anyone was coming. Then with one slice, he cut into the last piece of cake. He knew he was supposed to save it for Sara, but he couldn’t help himself.
The front door opened. He spun in his seat, fighting to swallow the mouthful he had taken and conceal the damaged wedge on his small plate. With a flick, his fork arced gracefully into the nearby sink with a dramatic ‘plop’. He just managed to close the fridge as Sara pushed open the kitchen door and peeped inside.
“Hi! I’m back,” she announced with her usual pleasant smile; then her eyes fell to the empty plate on the table and her face dropped into a murderous frown. “You just had to do it, didn’t you?” Her frown held promise of pain to come. “The bloody last piece. Dammit! You promised!”
Sara turned, picked up the fork from the sink, and walked toward him with a murderous look on her face. He stepped backwards, his arms held up in vain defense.
“It’s… it’s in the fridge!” he protested. “I only took one bite. Honestly! Take a look if you don’t believe me!”
Sara pressed on, adjusting her grip on the fork as she chose the spot to stab. Still he withdrew. Frantically seeking an escape, he noticed the laundry chute alongside him and threw himself headlong into the darkness.
As Sara began to stuff her face, she thought she should start taking more Midol before she hurt someone or her palms got hairy again.
He fell… forever, it seemed. The chute… he knew where it was supposed to end. In the basement, where he should spill into the oversized hamper Sara had insisted on buying. But he should’ve landed in the hamper by now. Darkness surrounded him. He could see nothing, but he had a vague impression of spiraling—spiraling? Something wrong with that… the chute fell straight—had fallen straight.
He shot out from the darkness and landed with a bone-jarring collision against something hard. Ground. Earth. A smell of loam filled his nostrils. A breeze stirred the air around him.
What the…? Where the devil am I?
As he lay there stunned, a strange whiffing noise came closer. In the half-light of a waning moon he saw only shadows, but something was nearby, sniffing him out. And it was big.
“Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum! I smell the breath of a cake-eating scum!” boomed a voice far above his head.
He blinked and lifted dazed eyes to behold a huge face scowling down at him. Eyes the size of a Buick met his gaze with furious intent. He was truly scared.
Is he going to eat me? He wondered. Great, I taste like cake.
The giant reached down and picked him up. He wiggled in the massive hand but to no avail.
“What do you want with me, you freak of nature?” he screamed, still trying to free himself. The giant brought him to eye level.
“Somebody stole my birthday cake and all my birthday presents! Your breath smells like cake, so I think it was you. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I… I… I…”
“You’re not aboard a ship, and I’m not your captain!” the giant thundered. “Stop with the aye, aye, aye already!”
“I didn’t… didn’t eat your cake,” he stammered. “It was… it was my girlfriend’s cake, and I only—”
“Cake thief!” the giant roared. A huge eye pinned him with its glassy glower. “Do you know,” the giant’s voice fell to a murmur that somehow sounded more menacing than his roar, “what we DO to cake thieves around here?”
“Um, give them more delicious cake to eat and let them go home?” he asked timidly. He hoped he didn’t sound too hysterical.
“Wrong!” the giant roared again. “We either eat them, although you’re too small, or we put them in our tiny dungeon for life.”
The giant smiled wide, lowered Bob to his side, and started walking toward a very large castle in the distance.
“Please don’t,” Bob pleaded. “I have so much more to live for. I’ll… I’ll do anything!”
The giant stopped and stood silently for a moment. A sudden gleam came across his eyes. After a while the giant lifted Bob back up and said, “Well, I could make an exception this one time, if…”
“If what? I’ll do it, I promise. Mark my words!”
“If you can get me these three items I dearly want,” answered the giant.
“Anything, you just name it,” Bob said with much enthusiasm.
“I want you to find whoever stole my birthday presents bring him to me. Second, I want you to bake me a new birthday cake—the biggest, best cake giant-kind has ever seen! Third, I want you to bring back all my stolen birthday presents, complete with wrapping paper. Do we have a deal, little man?”
“Um,” he said, “that sounds like more than three things.”
“Do you fancy yourself a genie?” The giant shook him until his teeth rattled. “I make the exceptions, so I’m the one who gets to decide what your three tasks will be. Pray I don’t change my mind and make it five!”
“Of… of course, sir,” he squeaked. “The thief, a new cake, and the birthday presents.”
“The birthday presents in wrapping paper,” the giant corrected.
“Still in wrapping paper, right. Just please don’t shake me again. What if someone has already unwrapped them?”
“Then you rewrap them, duh! I want to unwrap my presents. It’s my birthday.”
“Re-wrap them. Right. That makes sense.”
He thought about how he was supposed to carry a gift big enough for a giant, much less wrap one. That roll of Scotch tape would be like a human-sized roll of fly paper.
“But if someone already unwrapped them, how am I supposed to know what items are your birthday presents. Do you have any idea what might have been in the wrapping paper?”
“Peeking!” the giant roared. “Do you have any idea what we do with people who peek at their presents?”
“I imagine you eat them?” he tried.
“Hrrmph!” said the giant. “You ask too many questions, little man. You’d better get moving before the present thief gets any farther ahead of you. Whoever it was, their legs are much longer than yours.”
The giant set him down on the ground and walked away, shaking the ground with every step. The moment the giant was out of sight, Bob decided to make a run for it.
This could be my only chance. If only I knew how to get out of this place!
He peered around, hoping to get some indication as to where he was. He hadn’t had a chance to take it in before. A beautiful mountainous world stretched out in front of him. A few meandering rivers and rocky outcroppings beckoned him from a distance. Beside the river was a thick forest, and through that appeared to be some kind of city. Plumes of smoke rose
from behind the trees.
That’s where I need to go. Maybe someone there will know how I can get home.
He looked around once more and shot into action. Every muscle in his legs were working at their maximum potential to get to what he thought could be his only chance at safety from the giant and his ridiculous demands. After what seemed like hours and thousands of breaths of air, his skinny, pale frame had made it to the river.
“How do I get across?” he said aloud to himself. The water was a rushing torrent that could surely kill a man without the proper knowledge, gear, or both to get to the other side.
As he stared at the tumult, a hard, oval substance rose to the surface and neared the bank. Indents in the plate reminded him of a shell… a turtle shell. Even as he thought the words, a head attached to a long, leathery neck rose above the waves.
“You… look… lost,” the giant animal said. “Can… I… assist… you?”
Bob swallowed. Hard. “Ummm…”
“Ummm,” the turtle lifted its head higher, staring down its nose at him, “is not an answer.”
“I stole a cake. No! Wait!” That was what had got him into this mess in the first place. “I mean… I’m looking for a stolen cake! And… and…” No! Wrong thing to say.
