The saga continues...(OK, that sounds a bit too dramatic). Here's part 2, again to be continued. I'm not sure yet how the story will end but a long walk with Joey, my Jack Russell Terrier, and a bit of pondering may provide some illumination.
Part 2
Danny opened his eyes slowly; rays of sunshine peeking through his window cast shadows on his bedroom wall. OK, he thought, I’m awake and the storm has moved on during the night. It was a Saturday…no school, and endless possibilities for adventure if a boy’s courage prevailed. He dressed quickly, breezed through breakfast, and left his house with the bang of a door slammed carelessly and a fading trail of his mother’s words cautioning him to be careful.
His feet followed a well worn trail from the edge of the fenced yard through a shallow ravine to the bottom of the hill. A rusting barbed wire fence marked the end of his family’s property, yielding quickly to his probing hands as he slipped through without a scratch. The land behind their property was untouched by human hands, awaiting some future development, but for the moment pristine and uncorrupted. The air was freshly washed by last night’s storm, smelling of damp leaves and the scent of flower petals blown by gentle breezes. Danny paused for a moment, feeling his spirit levitating above the damp soil, buoyed by the sheer joy of being alive. It was a wonderful feeling to be young and carefree, purposely seeking aimlessness on a meandering path.
As he continued walking, flickering shadows cast by gently swaying trees played across his face. The path descended quickly to a small stream, swollen by the brief but torrential rains of the powerful storm. He walked gingerly along the bank of the stream, careful not to slip in the mud that soon caked the soles of his shoes. His path straightened a bit, seemingly driven by a more single minded purpose. Danny had a destination now. His pace quickened and he pushed aside the branches that occasionally barred his path with more vigor. He glanced around, his eyes settling on familiar landmarks, an old rotten stump clothed in rotting debris and pale fungi, a large stone weathered by time and a boy’s hands to a smooth texture.
Danny turned away from the stream and began scrambling up the side of a small hill. He had decided to visit the cave, a perfect place to start an adventure. It wasn’t a real cave, of course, but to a boy’s young mind it was a credible substitute. A large sandstone rock extended from the hillside. Streams flowing from countless storms had washed the soil from beneath the rock leaving a substantial overhang that created an open cavity, enlarged by a boy’s hands to make an acceptable hiding place for buried treasure, or a fort to repel determined swarms of enemy soldiers.
Danny crawled inside, the bright sun quickly extinguished by the encircling darkness. The air felt cool on his exposed skin, robbed of the warmth of the sun’s rays. Danny had spent many hours in the cave, enshrouded in fantasies…but somehow it felt different this time. A strange feeling crept over him, crawling slowly up his spine, pricking his skin with each step, leaving tiny goose bumps. He was afraid, but instead of the fear pushing him back into the sunlight, it pulled him into the deeper darkness at the back of the cave. A cold puff of air touched his face, then stopped, then touched him again, then stopped, like a gentle breath, in and out. He brushed his hand along the back of the cave, feeling emptiness where, in the past, soil and rock had blocked any further penetration into the hillside. Danny pushed his body through the opening, sliding down a gentle slope of sticks and small stones into darkness. Suddenly he remembered the image of the dragon in the clouds of the storm. It had seemed so real.
Danny’s mother awoke with a start. She was slumped awkwardly in the chair; the book resting on the floor where it had fallen. She glanced quickly at Danny, still motionless in the hospital bed. Sudden fear gripped her. She scrambled from the chair, almost falling as her weight shifted to legs too long twisted under her body where she had slept. Finally, standing by his bed, she stared intently at her son, watching his chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.
“I’m still here Danny”, she said gently touching his forehead. “I won’t leave you. You’re not alone. I just fell asleep for a few moments. I’m sorry if it frightened you.” She fussed with his blanket, making adjustments here and there, trying to make him more comfortable. Looking down at him she remembered the terrible moments after the accident. Never had she felt such fear. Now the fear had congealed to a cold dullness that ached inside.
Sighing deeply she returned to the chair and picked up the book. She turned the pages to where she had stopped reading when she fell asleep and began again.
“The dragon feared only the sun, craving the cold darkness of the night. During the day it hid in its cave, sleeping with deep, heaving breaths that stirred the air with the stench of death and corruption. Even in sleep, it was constantly aware, on guard for any trespassers in its domain.
The old man stood by the opening of the cave with the young boy, leaning on his staff of twisted oak.”
“So,” the old man asked the boy, “you want to ride the dragon. Do you really think you are brave enough… and strong enough.” All the boy could do was nod hesitantly. “Very well,” said the old man. He leaned over and whispered. “The secret is to leap onto the dragon’s tail and hold on with all your might. Whatever you do, don’t let go.” The boy’s eyes opened wide. “Why the dragon’s tail?” he asked, barely whispering. “Because,” laughed the old man, “his tail is the furthest you can get from his teeth…if you want to ride…”
(to be continued…)
I hope you find peace and joy in your life,
Alan