In the middle of the forest, Dragon Father was sitting in the cell of the Big Bad Wolf, made of powerful tree branches, handing from a high tree.
Above him, hidden by the trees, having snuck into the camp, was Dragon Little, almost 6 years old and so much more independent and strong than the child she had been when I had met her almost four years ago.
She sat there, waiting for him to say ‘squashbuckler’ before she would rescue him.
He sat there, refusing to say ‘squashbuckler’.
He broke down first, lay on his back so he could look up at her without being noticed, and whispered, “It’s been almost an hour, Joy. Had enough?”
She turned her body round, now lying on the branch, looking down to him. “I’m having fun fun fun! You had enough?”
I smiled and almost laughed. I love those two so much! They had such joy in them!
“Listen, I’m your father, and you had better goddamn rescue me from the Big Bad Wolf!”
“No problem. Just say it. Squashhhhh-buckling… It’s not hard to say. And it’s what we do.”
“It is NOT what we do! We don’t have any squashes!”
“Okay,” she shrugged.
“I. Am. Your. Father. You. Will. Listen. To Me.”
“I can’t hear yoooooooou!”
“Joy!” he stood up. He was angry now. The argument about ‘squashbuckling’ versus ‘swashbuckling’ always got him angry. “I’m warning you!”
“I’m warning you!”
“This is not a game! We are in danger! Stop it and rescue me!”
“I can’t hear yoooooooou!”
“Last warning, Joy…”
She did not respond.
“One…”
No response.
“Two…”
No response.
“Three…”
No response.
“Three, Joy. That’s it. Last chance to do what’s right.”
No response.
“All right. You asked for it.”
He sat back down, his back to her, and waited.
Neither she nor I knew what he had planned. But it was big.
I will tell you what happened next tomorrow.
—Told by The Red Dragon