Fate Of The Dragon

by Richard Lovegood

  I hate that cat. He always growls at me whenever I walk inside. I’m really hoping for zero growls today. As I pull into the parking lot, and look inside from my car, I can see that Mei Ling is sitting in her chair knitting something. I breathe a deep sigh, because I’m no longer mad at her. After I remembered how she came to be alone, the anger inside of me left. I can no longer bring myself to just walk in there and yell at her. By remembering her past, it leaves me feeling sad and depressed which has now replaced the void that the anger created.

  I get out of my car, head to the back-passenger seat, and retrieve my pants that are in dire need of attention. Ugh, I shake my head because, I can hear the insults already. I really don’t want to go inside, but she is the cheapest alteration shop in town. I take a deep breath, and slowly walk towards the shop. It’s hard not to make eye contact with her. I tried keeping my head down so that way I won’t have to look at her at all, but the anxiety is killing me! I lift my head only slightly and I try to peer through my eyebrows at her. Something seems wrong. Mei Ling is still in her rocking chair, Tum Tum is still in her lap, but her head is back against the headrest of the chair. Her eyes are closed. I can tell by the actual rocking of the chair that she is not dead. Why would she be acting this way?

  The brass bell dings as I walk in. Mei Ling does not budge, but of course, the cat scowls at me. I have half a mind to shoot that stupid animal…if I had a gun. Out of all of the cats in the world, this I think would be the only one to have a grudge against me. Whatever. I just want to drop off my pants and get out of here.

  “Leave pants on counter. You pick up tomorrow. This one on the house.” Mei ling says.

  “Uh, ok. What’s wrong? No insults today?” I tilt my head because I didn’t stutter this time either. Is it possible that the fortune cookie was right? No. That’s just stupid. Those things are only for our amusement.

  “Please just leave. Today not a good day. Leave pants on counter and you go home.” She insists.

  My curiosity needs to be satisfied. I want to see if I can help in some way. After all, I am a priest. “Is there anything I can do?” I ask. She just shakes her head slowly. “Did your cat hurt you? Has your business been slow today? Did you eat something that made you sick?” All of these should have warranted some kind of response, but none of them did. “Have you heard from your son at all?” Mei Ling frowns and turns her head away. Ok, I won’t mention the son again. “Well, I hope he isn’t dead or anything.” A fresh stream of tears runs down her cheek. Oops. Why would I say something like that? I really should stop talking about her son.

  “You no understand.” Mei Ling says. “I want to be in peace, and you interrupt peace. Go! Get out of store!”

  “Why are you so angry?” I ask, wanting to pry.

  “You no understand. Today anniversary day. Husband not here. Please go!” she pleads with me.

  “Oh, I get it now! You are mourning for your dead husband whose brain practically exploded, right?”

  Mei Ling can’t control it anymore, and her face erupts in tears as she wails loudly.

  I really should not have said that.

  “GET OUT! YOU GO HOME! YOU WANT INSULT? GET OUT FAT ONE! Go home and cry yourself to sleep in bowl of Twinkies. How about you wash troubles away with soothing bath of Jell-O? Go home and stuff face so that way you keep bringing me more ripped pants. You alone keep me in business! GET OUT!” Mei Ling is furious. She rises from her chair, and Tum Tum plops to the floor. She walks over to me, snatches the pants from my hand as I stand there frozen, and throws them at her sewing machine on the back table. She turns her back to me, and faces her sewing table. With one shaking finger, she points to the door. “Get out. This will be last pair of pants I fix for you. If you haven’t choked on dinner, you can pick up pants tomorrow. After tomorrow, you no come back. Understand me this time, fat boy?”

  I am stunned. How could I cause so much pain? I nod my head to show that I do understand, but God forbid I say anything else to this poor woman. I turn and slowly walk out of the shop. As the door closes behind me, Mei Ling cries even louder than when I was in there. I look over my shoulder and she has dropped to her knees with her head in her hands…sobbing. I am such a monster. I have to get out of here.

  As I approach my car and place my hand on the door handle, I hear a faint whisper.

  “Don’t forget.”

  I freeze. What did I forget now?

  “Remember how mean she can be. Just last week she called you a Twinkie farm.”

  I nod my head in agreement. I do remember. I reflect back to last week when she did call me that, and then she laughed the rest of the time I was there. Come to think of it, all she ever did was laugh at me. She’s never been nice. She’s never said anything encouraging. She’s always been mean, hurtful, and uncaring.

  “Who does she think she is?”

  That’s right! Who does she think she is? I bet she has a chip on her shoulder towards everybody that walks in to her crusty little shop! She has no right to treat people that way.

  “You don’t deserve to be treated that way. You deserve much better. Doesn’t she know who you are?”

  Exactly! She can’t talk to me that way at all! I do deserve better. This mess has gone on long enough! I am sick and tired of always being a laughing stock every single time I walk in there.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  My hand hurts now from gripping the door handle so hard. I have to go back in there and give Mei Ling a piece of my mind. I can’t take this abuse any longer. It’s about time somebody stands up to her and sets her straight. I notice my reflection in the window of my car door. My face is definitely portraying how angry I am feeling. There is no need to pretend or even muster up some phony feelings. This is genuine.

  I release the car handle, and I turn back to the store. I can feel the little hairs on the back of my neck rising the closer I get. I think about how many different ways I can get my point across. If I were a taller man, with a skinnier build, I would rush in there and leap onto the counter top while screaming at her with a pointed finger. If I were a muscle clad gym enthusiast I would break the door down with my pinkie finger, and then I would smash her counter in half with my hands.

  “You are too fat.”

  Sadly, I can’t do any of those amazing things because of my weight. Besides, reality has caught up to my daydreaming because I am at the front door again to Mei Ling’s shop. I push as hard as I can against the door and it flies open, knocking the cheap bell off of the frame. The bell bounces off of the counter and lands on the ground with a sad clang. Mei Ling pops her head up from her state of crying and looks at me with terror and fear.

  “What you want now?” she asks.

  I point my finger at her and I widen my eyes. “You have always been cruel to me! I don’t like it, and I am not going to stand for it any longer! It’s people like you that are wrong with the world. Always mean and nasty to everyone else, and not caring about the individual feelings of whom they are speaking to! How dare you insult me? You have no right to make fun of my weight! You know what, I’m glad your husband is dead. I’m glad that your son is lost. Based on his last known location, it would seem that he was trying to get back to China. Probably to escape your tyranny of being such a horrible parent and quite possibly a horrible example of a wife! You deserve to be alone with your cat. That way you can’t affect anymore family members with your poisonous lips. Did you poison your husband with that mouth of yours? Did you tell him how worthless he was for only sitting in that chair and not doing anything while you ran the store? I know the doctor’s report said that he had an aneurism due to severe depression. I say it was because of you! Every single day you probably poured out your vile toxins of hatred and disrespect all over him. Didn’t you? Well, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I hope you are happy with what you have accomplished in life. I hope you are happy with yourself. For all that you have done, you deserve the fire. You deserve to burn.”
>
  Silence.

  Not a single word more is spoken either from either of us. I am livid. I feel my chest rising and falling in rapid succession. My hands are trembling. My pulse is racing. I wish I could throw something heavy just so I can accent what I am feeling on the inside. At the same time, I am also stunned. I can’t believe I just said those things! Granted there have been times where I was thinking those things, but I always passed them off as nothing more than a fleeting thought. Then the sudden shock hits me. No more tilting of the head needed. I really don’t have a stutter. I blame the fortune cookie. My pulse races and I can feel my face flush with guilt. Maybe it isn’t just for pure amusement after all.

  “Congratulations. You have ruined her.”

  Oh my God. What have I done? Mei Ling’s face is frozen in fear. Her whole body resembles that of an oil canvas painting. Her hand is raised, bent at the wrist, in an attempt to cover her mouth. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth gapes open slightly. The only motion is the river flowing from her eyes. I can’t leave her like this. I have to do something.

  I take a few steps forward in an attempt to help her up from the floor. I want to comfort her and tell her I am sorry. I need to ask her for forgiveness. I hope she will forgive me. As I reach over to extend my hand, she scurries backwards across the floor in a panic, crashing into the wall behind her.

  “No! NO! Get away from me! Monster! Leave now and you no come back!” Mei Ling coughs and screams, “YOU HAVE NO HONOR! YOU NO WELCOME HERE! GO BACK TO YOUR PATHETIC LIFE OF MISERY!” She shuts her eyes and wails loudly. She raises her hands to wipe away some tears from her face, and her hands are shaking violently; trembling in fact. She whips her head from left to right, frantically looking for something. Finding a pencil, she throws it in my direction and it sails over my head, only missing by a few inches. She turns her head slowly back towards me. Looking at me through pain-soaked eyes she says in a slow guttural whisper, “Get…out.”

  Confused. Hurt. Ashamed. Annoyed. I begin to walk backwards, and really hoping that I don’t trip over anything. Mei Ling is still staring at me, and it’s really creepy. I really have to get out of here. My rear end bumps up against the wall, letting me know I’m close to the exit. My backwards walking skill is not that great however. I’m at the corner where the window meets the wall. An error easily fixed, as I make my way to the door and exit her shop. I’m not a genius or anything, but I think this may be the last time I come here.

  It seems like an eternity has passed as far as the time it took to get back to my little car. I shake my head in embarrassment because I cannot believe what I just said to her. I would never say those kinds of things to anyone, let alone someone who is experiencing hurt like that. I don’t think I can fix this, but I want to. Maybe Father Jeffers can. He’s a smart man. Granted he’s only been with us at the church for five years, but he’s a very smart man. I should go ask him. I think I’ll make a pit stop by there after I go to the department store to get some sandpaper for my table. I get in my car, close the door and start the engine. My gut feeling tells me that I’m probably not going to see those pants again.

  6

  Communication Breakdown

  I pull out of the parking lot and make my way to my next stop. It is safe to assume that I will not be returning here for quite some time; if ever. I am so disgusted with myself right now. Where did all of that come from? Why was I able to speak without a stutter? The overwhelming smell of left-in-the-car-eggplant infiltrates my nose, and suddenly a memory comes into full view. “Without a stutter…” I remember now. The fortune inside that cookie was real. Not only was it real, but it was accurate. That’s scary. If every word is going to be stutter free but hurtful, then I see only one viable option. I need to stop talking. It’s as simple as that. I should be able to get away with that. Besides, the only real talking I do anyway is when I read the one verse during each mass at church. There’s that and then there’s that one really nice young man at the thrift store. He is such a joy to talk to, and he never once made fun of my stutter.

  The department store is a few more blocks away. I should be there in a couple of minutes. Then after that, the church is practically right around the corner. That way I should have more than enough time to stop in and talk to Jeffers. Hopefully he will have some insight as to what’s going on with me.

  The radio is still on. It has been complaining to me about the lack of clarity. That’s strange because I could have sworn that the last time I was in my car there was a very clear commercial that came on this station. That’s very puzzling. I think I’ll find an AM radio station. Those things have an amazing signal reach regardless of where you are. My radio has been with me for quite some time. I would go so far as to say that I have had this thing since the car radio was first introduced; at least that’s how it feels. It has two knobs; one on the left and one on the right. Then there are five rectangular buttons in the center. Three of them say AM and the other two say FM. I don’t need anything fancier than that. I don’t need a CD player, or MP…something to listen to music. Just give me my AM/FM and I am a happy man. On the plus side, it will never get stolen. I reach over and press one of three buttons that says AM. The radio noisily clicks over, and I begin to tune it to a station that I think I might enjoy. By the time, I find a station, I’ve already found a parking space at the department store.

  Clicking the engine off, I decide to wait in my car for a little bit. I check the sky for potential rain clouds that may or may not happen to suddenly appear. I don’t care how accurate the weather man says his equipment is, I don’t trust any of it. In this town, it seems like the weather makes its own forecast. No sign of clouds of doom, so I get out and go inside. I am not a big fan of rain.

  The store is pretty easy to navigate. They have large signs all over the place telling you the different departments, and a brief description of what is in each aisle. As much stuff as they have, I don’t need more than what’s on my list. Besides, I am a little well along in years for any kind of projects that fall into the “do it yourself” category.

  I get to the aisle with the sandpaper. Let me see, it should be about half way down the aisle on the left-hand side. Here we go…wait. This isn’t the same sandpaper that I am used to seeing. I pick up one of the packets. The label says 33% longer durability than most sandpapers. Where is the other brand? I turn around as I try to remember the description. It was like a blue and yellow label, with 3-10 sheets a packet depending on how many you need. I look down the aisle a bit and I notice the clearance bin. Interesting; I need to take a look. As I approach and peer over into the bin, lo and behold there are the remaining packs of sandpaper. My sandpaper. It just happens to be on clearance markdown for $3.00 a pack. That is a great deal! I grab what I need and I head to the checkout. I don’t trust that new stuff.

  The lady at the checkout rings up the sandpaper, and she says “Your total today sir will be $9.32. Is this going to be on your store credit card?”

  Wait a second. The price was supposed to be only $3.00. “W-w-what hap-p-p-ended?” I ask right before I clasp my hand over my mouth. My stutter! It came back!

  “Is everything alright sir?”

  I nod my head nervously. I am so embarrassed right now! I didn’t think that the stutter would come back so quickly. That makes me worried. “Th-th-the s-s-sign said c-c-clearance.” I manage to get out.

  “Oh, ok. Let me check on that for you.” The lady says politely. She checks a few things in the computer thing and compares it with what was presented before her. She picks up the sandpaper packet, looks closely, and then peels off a price tag that was incorrectly placed. She scans the packet again, and this time the computer shows $3.00 even. Thank goodness. “I am so sorry about that sir. I think somebody from our overnight freight team must have misplaced this price tag. They are known for playing tricks on us that work in the day time.” She says.

  I hand her the money from my wallet, grab my sandpaper, and I head out the door as quick as
I can. I don’t want to face any more embarrassment. I hear the lady at the checkout say, “Thank you for shopping with us! Have a nice day!” I just wave at her without even turning around. I have to go tell Jeffers about this.

  Back outside now and I feel like I’m running a marathon to my car. Sadly, it is a brisk walk. I don’t exercise much, even though the doctor says I should. I’m 51 years old. I’ve gone this long without voluntarily exercising; I think I’ll be just fine without it. I have a feeling that if I were to start any kind of exercise program, albeit vigorous or not, I would fall down and die. Speaking of death, that same doctor says that if I carry on with the same routine that I am currently on, I’ll have only 1-2 more years to live. That’s fine by me. This world is getting darker by the minute, and I can’t wait until I get to heaven just so I can get out of here. And quite frankly, I enjoy my Pizza Rolls and Twinkies way too much to let them go.

  I get into my car and make my way out of the parking lot. Now it’s time to go to the church to speak with Jeffers. The radio is full of static again. This is just not my day. I turn the knob again to the station that I had it on earlier, and I wait. The dial begins to move back to where I changed it from; all the way to the end. Sigh. I move the dial again, and I wait. It moves again almost as if it were wound up on a coil of some kind and the tension releases. That’s it! I have had it! I will not lose to the radio! I turn the knob again, and then again it slowly moves back. I grab the knob tightly and turn it; only this time I hold it in place. Ha! Victory! I search my car from the floor boards to the rear seat/trunk area and I can see half of a roll of duct tape sitting back there. I’ll win this.