Fate Of The Dragon

by Richard Lovegood

  He gets to his feet and hurries over to me while the waiter’s back is turned. He stumbles a few times, but makes it over to me.

  “Are you ok?” I ask him in a painful whisper.

  “Yeah. My back is a little sore, but I should be just fine. We need to get out of here, and fast.” Chuck says with a wince.

  “Agreed. Though, we can’t use the doors, they are barred shut. What do you recommend?” I ask.

  “What about the windows?” Chuck says as he holds up a chair.

  “Works just fine for me. Let’s do it!”

  Heading to the front, Chuck and I crouch down behind a booth that is close to one of the front windows. We can both hear the waiter bellow out, “That’s right, maggots! Keep eating! Fill your pathetic bellies with false comfort. By a show of hands, who wants dessert?!”

  We share a glance, and without saying a word, nod in unison a countdown. On three, Chuck stands up and swings the chair vehemently at the window. The shattering glass and wood lattice interrupts the inside chaos for a brief moment, and the leader of the pack now knows where we are. Chuck rakes the chair within the frame of the window to clear out remaining debris and shards of glass, then tosses the chair at our old waiter.

  “Get back here!” he growls. Like something I would see on TV, he points a long finger in our direction, and all kinds of people start to swarm in our direction. That’s when it hits me.

  The food and the gong have got to be some form of mind control.

  “I never thought I would see the day come for an actual zombie apocalypse!” Chuck says.

  “I don’t think now is the best time for jokes.” Grabbing his shirt sleeve, I pull him to our new escape. Chuck leaps out first and then helps me through. We run to his car, get in, strap in, and the next thing I know I feel like Smokey and the Bandit running from Boss Hog…except with zombies. Smoke billows out from Chuck’s tires as we peel out of the parking lot and down the street.

  “I think it’s time to head to Los Ricos now.” Chuck says as he frantically checks all of his mirrors.

  “Yes, please.” I look over the seat and out the back window, and see no sign of cars coming after us. That’s so weird. For the remainder of the car ride to Los Ricos, both of us remain silent. Chuck doesn’t even turn on the radio. This silence is much needed right now. The scenery fades and changes to barren as we leave the town. It’s a very open and very straight two-lane highway. There’s not much to see out any of the windows. There are a couple of bushes starving for water. Every now and then I see a rabbit scatter across the dirt and rocks, desperate to find a water source. How it survived out here from infancy to now is beyond me. Unless this is some cruel trick by a pet shop owner who would raise them and then drop them off to die; I have no idea.

  Chuck breaks the silence. “Did you ever eat any of those cookies?”

  “Sadly, yes I did. It really creeped me out after I read the fortune. The words were written on a silvery-gray type of paper that had a gold border.”

  “Like the paint job in the restaurant!”

  “Exactly. The silver-gray background started to swirl like smoke once I started reading, and then as soon as I was done…poof! The words disappeared.”

  “That’s really strange.” Chuck says. “What did it say?”

  “I don’t remember the exact words, but I lost my stutter for the rest of the day. The effects wore off once I woke up the next day. The horrible thing was that I felt this strange sense of confidence, and definitely not in a good way. When I vented all my frustration to the alteration lady, I felt as crushed as she did. Even more so when she killed herself shortly after. I can only imagine what those people back at the Garden were reading.” A tear falls from my face as I remember Mei Ling.

  Buildings start to appear on the horizon. Some are tall, some are elaborate, and they are all crowded together. From one end to the other, the building scene stretches for miles.

  “Is there any specific place you need me to drop you off?” Chuck asks.

  “Not that I’m aware of. I just figured that I could start asking around if anyone knows Jeffers.” It’s not much to go off of, but it’s the best I have.

  “Just be careful. That could bring you more attention than you may want.”

  “True.” My head drops slightly. Where do I start? Lord, I could use your help here. Where should I start looking?

  “You can always try the local churches here.”

  You mean there’s more than one here?

  “Yes, there is. Do not fear. I’m with you wherever you go.”

  Thank you.

  My beard still feels so foreign as I rub it back and forth. This will take some getting used to. “Chuck, when we get to the city, just drop me off right on the edge of town.”

  “Are you sure, man? Wouldn’t you rather me take you to a hotel or something?” He glances over from his gaze on the road.

  “I’m sure. The Lord knows where I’m going, so I’m not worried. I have a feeling that I will be doing a lot of walking.” I say.

  “Fair enough, man. At what point will you be coming back to Los Pobres?”

  “Chuck, I’m not really sure. What I can say, is that once I’ve accomplished what I’ve been tasked with here, that should be when it’s time to come back.”

  “Sounds good man. Do you need my cell number so I can come get you?”

  “I don’t think so. Well…yeah go ahead and give it to me just in case.” I say. It couldn’t hurt just have it on back up. Besides, I would much rather have someone like Chuck bring me back than pay an outrageous taxi fee.

  The first signs of life are out walking around near the outskirt houses, and small convenience stores. The destitute, the dredges of life, and the exiles from society all congregate here. Chuck pulls into a parking lot for one of the gas stations.

  “I’m going to top off my car before I head back.” He hands me his number on a slip of paper, and I put it away in my pocket. “I’ll admit, I’m worried about you. Are you sure you are going to be ok?”

  “Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet I feed them. Are you not more valuable than they? If you worry, will it add even one cubit to your stature?”

  Nope. I see your point. “I have no reason to worry, Chuck. I know that the Lord will take care of me.”

  “Yeah He will. He always will. Just keep your head up, and don’t quit on me. Alright?” His knuckles tighten on the steering well. Lord, I want to make it back home. This man has done so much for me. Please allow me to return the favor.

  “It’s time to start walking, son.”

  “Well, it’s time to go. Chuck, thank you so much for what you have done for me. I really do hope that I get to return the favor someday.”

  “I believe you will, Elverson. I really believe that.”

  “When you get back home, tell Brie I said hello.”

  “Absolutely!” Chuck says with a tear.

  Time to leave. I pop open the passenger door, and get out. I’m taken aback by the vast scenery before me. All of the motion, the sounds, the music in the distance; it’s pretty overwhelming. I’m just going to pick a street and start walking. Surely there has to be signs or something that will lead me in the right direction for a church. Chuck finishes fueling up, looks at me and waves right before he gets in and pulls away. The wave is returned as I see his car disappear. Big breath in…and out. Here we go.

  I turn and start my brand-new journey into this…wilderness of sorts. I have no idea what I’m doing, and yet I’m not scared in the least.

  24

  A Callous Exodus

  Shock. Amazement. Awe. Wonder. Stunning. All of these don’t even scratch the surface to begin to explain what I’m feeling as I look around this city. It’s absolutely breath taking. Everything is new. New buildings, new sounds, new smells, and new sights. The closer I get to the heart of the city, the busier and louder it becomes. Though I may not be scared, I am very overwhelmed. I
have to start somewhere, so it’s time to keep my eyes peeled of anything that may turn out to be helpful. Out of nowhere, a song pops into my head that makes me chuckle and gives me a little pep in my step at the same time. A smile has no hesitancy to flash across my face as These Boots Were Made for Walking aides me in my journey. Music starts to become more prominent, too. With it being around 3:00 in the afternoon, restaurants are preparing for the dinner crowd as live bands are performing sound checks from multiple locations.

  Living in Los Pobres for my entire life, I’ve only know the outside world thanks to TV. I’ve seen many “live” performances; albeit from the comfort of my own recliner. Under my proverbial rock of lifestyle, I have never ventured out this far. Now I have first-hand opportunities to actually see them in person. The sound of one of the bands catches my attention as the sound check being performed sounds like a song I use to listen to when I was much younger; Charlie Dunn. The advertisement chalkboard outside this particular establishment displays the name of the band, “Coe Walker Blues” right next to the happy hour drink menu. Coe Walker Blues, eh? I wonder if they are a country and blues cover band? Because Charlie Dunn, last I checked, was performed by Jerry Jeff Walker. There’s no time like the present, as the saying goes, so I’m going to go check them out.

  The hostess that greets me should be wearing more clothes. A young lady her age should learn to cover herself up, and be modest in appearance! Her skirt or kilt or whatever it is, is entirely too short. Her black blouse is tied in a knot in the front and exposes her cleavage with no shame attached. I’m ashamed for her! It’s embarrassing! This young lady needs a good counseling in appropriate attire, so as to keep herself dignified for the day the Lord gives her a husband.

  “Hey, Gandalf. You gonna sit there and stare at my chest all day? Or are you gonna come in and sit down somewhere?” she asks me with a smack of her gum.

  I swear I was only studying the lack of clothing and nothing more! “Yes, I’m going to have a seat.” I can’t help myself with the next question. “Do your parents know that you dress this way?”

  “You have go to be kidding me. Take a look around, honey!” She motions with her hand in a wide arc across the restaurant. Every single female server is dressed in identical attire. “I’ll say it again, pal. Welcome to Scruffy McDermit’s where happy hour is every hour. If it’s an Irish themed place, don’t you think that the dress code should match?” The angst and sarcasm are thick in her voice.

  “Table for one, please.” I now see the common green, white, and orange theme all over.

  “Yay. Do you want street-side, stage, or bar?” she asks me.

  “Stage please.”

  With a heavy sigh, she leads the way. “Since you’re early you are lucky to get a seat this close. Your server will be with you shortly.” She flops down a menu and leaves. Walking back to her podium near the front, she hollers out, “Cassie! You got a customer!”

  To be honest, I’m glad that first young lady is not my server. I think she would spit in my food or something. After a few minutes, a new young lady comes to my table with a glass and a pitcher of ice water. She pours me my first glass of water, and pulls out a pad and pen. “Can I start you with any appetizers? And is water going to be ok for you, or would you like something else?”

  “Water is perfect.” I say without looking up. “May I have a few minutes to look over the menu?”

  “Sure, honey. I’ll give you a few minutes.” She says with a subtle coo in her voice, and walks away.

  The band on stage is setting down their instruments, and wrapping up their sound check. The singer steps off the stage, and I reach out to get his attention. “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Yeah. What’s up man?” he says.

  “I noticed the name of your band is Coe Walker Blues. May I ask where you got that name from?” I ask.

  He pauses for a minute, and smiles. “Absolutely, man. See, my dad is a huge blues fan. My mom is a huge country and classic rock fan. I remember growing up hearing songs by Jerry Jeff Walker and David Allan Coe. Then when I met these awesome dudes who share the same love for music that I do, we all agreed on the name.”

  “Wow! That’s really neat!” I say. “Will you be playing Charlie Dunn tonight?”

  “We sure are! That’s one of my favorite songs to cover, man! It’s like, every song I do is a tribute to honor the original artist who did. Kind of like, a musical thank you.” He says beaming with happiness. “Enjoy the show, man!”

  The singer walks away, and I turn my attention to the menu. Let’s see, what to eat? There are a few things on here that I’ve never tried before, but I would really like to. However, I’m not the fat man I used to be. That’s still very perplexing to me. At any rate, I need to choose something before my server comes back. The bangers and mash look really good. Then again, the pub-style fish n’ chips sound amazing! Do I want an appetizer? Or do I just go for a main dish and call it good? There’s not much price difference between the two. I’ll have to ask…no…she didn’t give her name. Well, I’ll find out when she gets back. I think I’ll just stick with a main dish, and if after that I still have room I can treat myself to some dessert. What does the bangers and mash say? Two dinner size sausages over mashed potatoes topped with grilled onions and served with rich brown gravy. Yummy! What about the pub-style fish n’ chips? Haddock dipped in beer batter and deep fried, served with tangy seaside tartar sauce, malt-vinegar and hand cut fries. Both of them cost $11, so that’s not too bad. Fish, however, doesn’t sound too good right now. So, I’m going to stick with the bangers and mash. You know what though? I think I’m going to just look at the dessert section to see what they have. To my surprise, and disappointment, there isn’t one! Fine. That’s… just fine. I don’t need dessert anyway.

  My server returns a few minutes later, grabs the chair opposite of mine across the table, flips it around and sits with the backrest against her torso; forcing her chest to excessively drape over the top. Her brown hair cascades down off of her shoulders, with some falling into the center of her chest. Sure enough, her attire matches that of the hostess up front. “Have you decided on what you want, honey?” she asks me with a very smooth and sultry voice. “If you need anything other than water, today’s bar special is $5 Blacksmiths all night long.”

  “Forgive my ignorance, but what is a blacksmith? Isn’t that a profession?”

  She laughs. “No, silly! It’s the very tasty baby of Smithwick’s and Guinness. If you’re a beer man, and like it strong and thick with a smooth finish, then this beer is for you. Can I start you with one?”

  “No thank you. I’m not much of a drinker.”

  “Shame. Are you ready to order then?”

  “Yes I am. I would like the bangers and mash, please.”

  Her brown eyes sparkle, and she drags a slow finger across her lips. “Great choice. I love sausage. I’ll get this put in for you, and it should be ready for you in about 15 minutes. Is there anything else I can get you while you wait?” She turns her head to a doorway in between the bathroom doors and the bar. A thick velvet curtain hangs from the top and gently brushes the ground.

  The little amount of nervous panic makes itself known in my voice. “No thank you.”

  “Aww. You’re shy! I like ‘em that way.” She winks at me as she slowly rises from the chair; pushing herself up with her legs first to where just her hips rise up. Then she raises the rest of her body from the waist up until she is standing straight. Walking away, she exaggerates the sway with her hips. I’m still staring at the chair that she was sitting in. My eyes blink back my attention, and bring my focus back to my table. She took the menu, but left the chair in that strange backwards position.

  I need to be careful. There’s something that I don’t trust about that lady. I’m not sure what she’s trying to do, I’ve never seen women act this way before! Is this some kind of new fad or hip thing? Whatever it is, it’s disgraceful.

  “Don’t forget why you came here
. Don’t get distracted, and don’t be deceived.”

  Right! Sorry about that. I guess I can start by asking my server if she knows Jeffers, or anybody who does. After a while, she returns to my table and takes her, now, usual seat. I make it a point to maintain constant eye contact so as not to appear as staring elsewhere.

  “Well, would you look at that. You’ve got that rugged confidence look about you, all the while respecting me by looking me in the eye. Your Mama must have taught you well, honey.” She winks at me again. “Your food should be ready in the next 2 minutes or so. They’re getting the bangers off the grill shortly.”

  The mention of “mama” makes me cringe internally. It’s not her fault though. She doesn’t know. “Since you’re here, I have a quick question for you.”

  A bell dings from a distance, and she gets up from her chair. “Hold that thought, honey. That’s your order.” She walks close by me, and gently lets her hand slide up and over my shoulder. She leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’ll be right back, you handsome beast.” Her hand drops off my shoulder, and she heads to the kitchen.

  I’m getting very uncomfortable now. I’ve never had a girlfriend before, and I’ve never been married. I don’t know how to do this. What do I say? What do I do?

  “It’s going to be ok. I am with you.”

  Indeed, you are. You always are, and I thank you for that. She is very attractive, but I don’t want to make it seem like I’m some wicked man who only wants the physical attraction investment.

  “Just remember that you carry with you a special power. A power that can be felt all around. To the unbeliever, it’s oddly attractive, yet unexplainable. To the wicked, it’s offensive because they recognize it as their defeat.”

  That’s good to know. My nose turns of its own accord, and I can smell the delicious aroma of my food. My server returns and places the plate in front of me, and sets a napkin in my lap for me; gently squeezing my thigh. “Here you go, honey. Is there anything else I can get you?” Her sultry voice has now taken on a very seductive tone now. My heart is beating out of my chest, and I choke on my words.