“Joy, do you want to be a Martian Space Pirate?” Dragon Father asked.
Dragon Little made a face of disgust. “No!”
“Do you want to be… a unicorn?”
Dragon Little shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Unicorns don’t have adventures.”
“Hmmm… Do you want to be… a dragon?!”
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“It’s, uh… It’s Monday, Joy.”
“So it’s TwoDay!” she raised two fingers.
“It’s the second day of the week,” he explained patiently, “but it’s called Monday.”
“That’s a stupid name,” she waved his remark aside. “I’ll call it TwoDay! Yesterday was OneDay! Tomorrow is ThreeDay! Then FourDay!”
“Joy, Joy, listen to me. You can’t make up names of the week.”
“The names are wrong. It’s FourDay!”
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Dragon Father approached her and put his hand around her shoulder. “You want to tell him you feel bad?”
She nodded.
“Then usually what we say is ‘I’m sorry for your loss’.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, sir!”
The elderly goblin nodded somberly. “You know…” he said in his slow way. “I knew this day would come.”
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Dragon Little ran into the village.
Male and female goblins were coming out of huts, looking at what the goblin monster left in his wake. Bodies of dead goblins were strewn all around. Huts were destroyed.
Children ran to their parents. Goblins looked and cried over the bodies of their loved ones.
I have never seen so much devastation and sadness and slaughter in Dragon Father’s dreams.
“Excuse me,” Dragon Little approached a goblin mother hugging her child. “Do you know where the goblin monster came from?”
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“I want to see his family,” Dragon Little said.
Dragon Father stopped and looked at her, confused. “Whose family?”
“The goblin monster’s,” she said. “He has a father, right? Someone brought him up. I killed his son. I want to see him.”
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The goblin monster growled at Dragon Little.
“You!” Dragon Little yelled at him. “Don’t! Kill! Goblin! Kids!”
The goblin monster growled more, then, began to turn around.
“Hey!” Dragon Little yelled again. “Don’t ignore me!”
The goblin monster turned at hearing her voice.
With two hands, Dragon Little raised the rocket launcher as high as she could, as it pointed downwards, then slammed it on the goblin monster’s toe.
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Bodies of goblins lay strewn in the street. The huge goblin was stomping the rest.
Dragon Father’s dreams do not usually summon such grim images. I have seen such things before, and it was hard to look at. I have seen a slaughter of dragons so horrible, so terrible…
I will not speak of it. I will only tell you of Dragon Little now.
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“I can’t walk,” Dragon Father said. “You go on without me. Save the goblins!”
“I’m not going without you!” she tried to push him forward with her small body. There was deep concern in her voice.
“Joy! There are goblin kids being attacked now in the village over there! You have to save them!”
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Dragon Little was getting older. It was almost her sixth birthday and I knew that sooner or later, in the next year or two, she will find out the truth about where she ist and that there ist a way out of her father’s dream. And then… Anything may happen. And sooner or later, she will die. Or, worse, she will be found by those who look for her.
I do not know how it ist that Dragon Father came to have Dragon Little, for she does come of his dream. I do not know how much Dragon Father knows of what there ist outside his dream. I do not know how much Dragon Father knows of those who search for his daughter, those awful monsters who enslave dragons.
And yet…
Something in me believed that he did know that he would have to prepare Dragon Little for a life far harsher than a simple life of daily adventure.
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As often happened, Dragon Father appeared in the very last minute and saved Dragon Little’s life from the villain. He crashed the glass ceiling and landed on the head of the Smiling Clown just as he was about to strangle four and a half year-old Dragon Little.
The Smiling Crown was crushed and, his body apparently made out of whipped cream, exploded whipped cream through his clothes in all directions.
“Woo hoo!” Dragon Little jumped up and down, excited. She had loved this adventure. “You’re so great, Dad!”
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Suddenly a spark in the circuits on Captain Widget’s face made him jump backwards.
Another spark appeared on his face.
“What’s happening?” he hit his face, trying to put the small fire out. “Oh! My tears! My tears are shorting out my tech! There’s no time! I have only a few seconds before the tech is wasted!”
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“Waaaah!” she mimicked his crying insultingly. “Waaaaah!”
The soldier, Colonel Doug Widget, looked up, shocked.
“Waaaah!” she repeated. She had given the task of lifting his spirits so he can save the world, all as part of Dragon Father’s lesson to teach her that heroes do cry.
So far it was not working.
“Waaaah!” she repeated, louder and in a more insulting tone.
The soldier laughed.
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Dragon Little stood in front of the crying soldier, hugging his legs in the corner of the roof.
She was only three years old and her father left her on the roof of a planet that’s about to be terrorized and destroyed by an evil machine. In front of her was the only man who could save the world, a man implanted with the virus that can save the world.
I thought it was perhaps too much of a task for her to help a crying soldier. But I did not know enough about humans: Not how and when they cry, not how and when they’re brave. I have seen so few brave humans in my centuries of life. I have seen so few brave… any brave creature, in fact, that ist not someone’s dream.
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A man appeared there, a split second before he pointed to him. The man was roughly Dragon Father’s size, but he was wearing a soldier’s uniform half made of circuits. His face was filled with circuits.
But the man was cowering in the corner, hugging his knees.
“Colonel Widget,” Dragon Father said, “was injected with a serum that allows him to put a virus in the system. The virus can destroy the evil machine. You got it?”
She nodded, but it didn’t seem she completely understood.
“So we need him to win. But look at him…” he pointed at Colonel Widget. “He’s crying. He’s afraid.”
—Told by The Red Dragon
Dragon Little was standing beside Dragon Father as he helmed the wheel.
“When I grow up,” she told him casually, “I want to be just like you.”
“Oh, yeah? In what way?”
“I’m never going to cry!” She had cried quite a bit when her Dollies had been taken from her and then she had been devastated when they fell into the volcano.
Dragon Father stopped looking ahead and looked down at her, suddenly serious. “You’re never going to cry?”
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“Have I ever taken you to this place?”
She shook her head.
“Look. This is what I love to do with waves.”
He took a few steps into the ocean so that he was knee-high in the water.
As the next small wave came at him, he bent his knees and clung the fingers of each hand together so they seemed like knives.
The wave came closer. “Eeeee-aaaaaa!” he kicked the wave as it came.
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“Where are we going?”
She asked as he helmed Bonny’s Revenge and took it out of the water.
“I’m not telling. It’s a surprise.”
“Where are we going?” she asked again a few seconds later.
“I’m still not telling. It’s a surprise.”
“I hate surprises! Tell me now!”
“Well, you’ll have to exercise your patience muscles, that’s what my mother always said. It’s good for you.”
“Dad, where are we going?” she asked almost immediately.
Dragon Father consistently refused to say and Dragon Little consistently refused to hear when he asked her to stop asking.
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“What’s going on? Don’t we have normal toys for a little girl? Oh, here’s something,” he pulled out a big fuzzy bear. “A teddy bear!”
Dragon Little was trying to hold all of her new toys in both hands, and things kept falling out. She looked at the teddy bear and said, “Pfah!” in disgust.
“It’s cute!”
“It’s not cute! It’s pfah!”
Dragon Father stood up. “Well, it’s the last of the toys. We’re taking everything and we’re taking the teddy bear, too!”
“I’ll just throw it overboard!”
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