Diana, 12, Marietta, GA
I stood on the doorstep of Rose Cottage, my grandmother's summer home, and waved good-bye to my mother, who was driving away down the road.
Mother had known that I was slowly wasting away, living in that tiny apartment in the middle of New York City, so she had taken me here, where I could breathe in air that wasn't tainted with smoke and other nasty things. It had stunned me when my parents told me that we would be moving away from our large, beautiful home in the country to the bustle and noise of New York City, because Father had gotten a job as a lawyer there. I had cried when I found out I had to get rid of a lot of my books and toys, and leave my best friend, Cecily, behind. But what hurt most of all was leaving the trees, the wildflowers, and the animals of the lush forest that surrounded my childhood home behind.
At first it wasn't too bad, sharing a four-room apartment with Mother and Father, but soon I started feeling sick, with all the noise and the people and the strange smells. One day it was too much, and I fainted right in the middle of a busy store where I was shopping with my mother. I woke up in my bed,
in my closet-sized room, with my mother murmuring, “Wake up, Emily, wake up.”
I told my parents exactly how sick I felt each day, and they decided to take me back to the country until they found a solution for me. Unfortunately, the day I was to be taken to Rose Cottage, Father was called away on an emergency case, and I only had time to give him a quick kiss and say good-bye before he rushed out the door. On the three-hour drive to Rose Cottage, I didn't say a word, just stared out the window at the green foliage that quickly replaced the tall buildings of the city. I was excited to see my grandmother, and to be back in the country, but I didn't want to be separated from my parents the whole summer.
Finally, we arrived at Rose Cottage, and after a hurried apology because she had to meet some friends at 2, Mother left Grandmother and me standing on the steps and drove away in my family's little blue car. Small and dainty, with pure white hair piled on her head, Grandmother was still pretty in spite of her age, and I smiled at her, hoping that I wasn't invading her space.
“I'm so glad you're here, Emily,” Grandmother said, leading me into her kitchen, where a pot was bubbling merrily on the stove. “It might be a little lonely here, with just you and me and Luke, the gardener, but I hope you will find it pleasant here, all the same.”
“I'm sure I will,” I said eagerly. “I like being by myself, anyway.”
“Good,” Grandmother said, nodding. “Your room is upstairs, second door on the right, if you want to get settled. Dinner is in half an hour.”
“Thank you,” I said, picking up my two small suitcases and making my way up the stairway. I stopped to look at a small niche in the wall, with a seat built in next to the window and a curtain to conceal the seat from prying eyes. Later I would write and draw pictures of trees and plants in my journal, and this seat would be a good place to do so. Moving on, I passed a door next to the top of the stairs, then came to the door that must lead to my room for the summer. A little cautiously, I pushed open the door, then smiled. The small room reflected Grandmother's personality, with lacy white curtains at the window, roses on the dresser, and a pale blue quilt on the bed. It only took a little while to put my clothes and possessions in the dresser. Then I went downstairs where the smell of bread filled the kitchen.
A man about the age of my father sat at the table drinking out of a pottery mug, and Grandmother was moving about the kitchen, slicing bread and ladling soup into bowls. “Hello, Emily,” she said as I stepped shyly into view. “I'd like you to meet Luke”.
The man stood up and smiled at me. His skin was tanned from working in the sun, and his smile was bright and friendly. “I didn't know Charles and Martha could produce such a beauty,” Luke said, a twinkle in his eye.
I could feel myself coloring to the tips of my ears. “Th-thank you, sir.” I mumbled. No one had ever called me pretty before, not even Cecily. I'd always thought that blond hair was better than dark, as mine certainly was.
“Such interesting eyes,” Luke was saying to himself. “Tilted, and green, too. Almost like—”
“Luke!” Grandmother interrupted him. “Help me get the soup bowls on the table.”
“Who is the last place for?” I inquired, pointing to the table, which was set for four.
“Oh, that's for Henry,” Luke said absently, counting the spoons he was holding. “Who's—” I started to say, when the kitchen door flew open and a boy a couple of years older than me ran in.
“Dad! Guess what? Those hydrangeas you planted last year have started... Who's that?” he said, all in one breath.
“This is my granddaughter, Emily. Henry, you know better than to slam doors,” Grandmother said calmly.
“Oh, sorry,” Henry said sheepishly, looking at me.
“I can't believe I forgot to tell you about Henry,” Grandmother added, chuckling.
“You're just in time for dinner,” Luke said, sitting down at the table.
I chose a spot next to Grandmother, and Henry sat on the other side of me. Once we all were settled, Grandmother said grace, then I began eating the delicious sourdough bread and tomato soup that Grandmother had made. I listened quietly as Luke and Henry talked about gardening and the trees of the woods that surrounded it, and Grandmother tutted over the state of Henry's clothes. After the meal was finished, Luke went out to garden, Grandmother washed the dishes, and Henry and I were left staring at each other. Henry was rather skinny, with a thick head of black hair, and soft brown eyes. His skin was rather pale, not at all like his father's skin, and he looked old for his age, or at least mature.
“Grandmother, may I explore the forest?” I asked.
“Of course. Just make sure not to get lost,” Grandmother said, hardly glancing up from her work.
“Can I go with her, as a sort of, um, protection?” Henry asked, quickly glancing at me. I frowned. Protection from what?
“Just be back soon,” Grandmother said.
Soon Henry and I were walking through the forest. Once in a while I would stop to draw a picture o f a particularly interesting plant or flower. After an hour, we were quite deep in the woods. Suddenly, Henry paused and stiffened. What was it, I wondered, looking around? Then, I heard it. It sounded like chip-chip-chip. Even though Henry seemed afraid, I wasn't. I followed the sound to a bush that was shaking a bit. Stepping even closer, I swallowed hard and pushed the leaves of the bush away and looked under them. It was an egg, but much larger than a chicken egg. It looked like it was made of rock, and it was about as big as my head. But what intrigued me most was the cracks appearing all over it. Carefully, I picked it up and carried it to where Henry was standing as if frozen.
“Look at it, Henry,” I murmured, setting the egg down. Glancing up, I gasped. “What's wrong, Henry?” I asked. His face had lost all color and he was opening and closing his mouth.
“You know what that is?” he whispered. “Thant's a DRAGON egg! And they're supposed to be burning hot! You should be burned!”
I looked at my hands, which weren't burned at all. But before I could say anything else, the egg broke apart, revealing a tiny green dragon. Making a purring sound, the dragon walked up to me and rubbed its head against my hand. Henry, making a choking sound, finally go out, “Are you a dragon master?”
“What's that?” I asked, petting the dragon.
“Someone who can handle dragons. They're really rare.”
The dragon blinked at me, then suddenly flew into the air, and was gone.
“Wow,” Henry and I said at the same time. On the walk back home, Henry told me all about dragon masters. As we finally reached Rose Cottage, Henry reminded me to keep all this a secret.
“Don't worry, I will,” I said, smiling.
Since Grandmother was not looking for me, and it was still early in the afternoon, I went with Henry to see the small house he shared with his father. Located at the back of Grandmother's property, the house only had three rooms, but for two people who only had each other, it was nice, Henry told me. Passing through the living room/kitchen, Henry led me to his bedroom where we could talk in private.
“Henry, how many dragons are in Grandmother's woods?” I asked, sitting on his bed.
“Well, first off,” Henry said, “the forest doesn't belong to your Grandmother. It belongs to New York State, so sometimes you can see random people sightseeing in the forest. Usually, they don't come near Mrs. Swift's property, though.” Helena Swift was my Grandmother's name, and my mother's maiden name. “There are probably hundreds of dragons in the forest, all of them different colors, shapes, and sizes.”
“You said that there are sightseers in the forest a lot,” I said slowly. “So, do lots of people see the dragons?”
“That's the confusing part,” Henry said quietly. “Most people don't see the dragons. So far, you're the only person I know who can see them, other than myself. I've checked out hundreds of books from the library, trying to figure it out, but none of them have any information about dragons.”
“Why did you call me a dragon master, then, if you hardly know anything about dragons?” I asked.
Henry looked flustered. “Well, I did find one book in the very back of the library, shoved behind some other books, that's all about dragon masters. The thing is, the library doesn’t know I have this book. I tried to check it out, but it doesn't have a bar code or anything like that. Well, just look at it.” Henry reached under his bed and pulled out a very dusty, very old book.
I carefully turned its crumbling, yellowed pages and read a bit of it. “Wow” I murmured. A dragon master had the ability to handle dragons and their eggs, and to talk to them. Also, they had to live near dragons “or they would die” I whispered. How could a bustling, modern city have dragons in it? Dragons had been in myths long, long ago, and cars, skyscrapers, and technology were new and strange to dragons, so they fled to the few large forests still left in the world. I firmly closed the book, even though I was aching to read more.
“Henry?” I asked. “Have you ever seen a full-grown dragon?”
“No, even though I wish I have.” Suddenly, Henry's sad countenance lit up. “Maybe, if you are a real dragon master, you can sort of ... attract large dragons,” Henry smiled at me in a daring way.
“Oh, I d-don't know if I want to get near an enormous dragon,” I said, uneasily.
“Come on, Emily, it will be amazing!” Henry urged.
“I'll think about it. Ask me tomorrow,” I said, standing up to leave.
“All right.” Henry looked disappointed but decided not to push me further. When Henry and I got back to Rose Cottage, Grandmother was waiting for us.
“Emily, Henry, where were you? It is almost supper time, and I was about to send Luke out to look for you. What do you have to say for yourselves?” Grandmother may be small and petite, but she was quite a formidable figure at that moment.
“I'm sorry, Mrs. Swift,” Henry said in his most polite voice. “I was just showing Emily my room.” This was true, in a way.
“Oh, that's fine,” Grandmother said, becoming her usually sunny self again. “Well, wash up for supper, and try not to be late again.”
“Yes, Grandmother,” I said respectfully, then went upstairs to change my dirty clothes and comb my hair.
That night, I thought about what Henry wanted to do. In stories, dragons were fire-breathing, mean, and murderous creatures, but would that be any different if I were a dragon master? I slept a little fitfully that night, but when morning finally came, I had made my decision. After a hasty breakfast, I put a water bottle, notebook, and pens in my backpack, put on hiking shoes, and met Henry in front of his house according to plan.
“I see we're going on a little hike?” he said, smiling, when I arrived. Swallowing a squeak of fear, I smiled shakily. Then we both set off without another word. We had been walking for about an hour, without seeing any sign of a dragon, when we came to the spot where I had found the dragon egg yesterday. We sat on a log to take a rest and watched a brook trickle among some stones Pale green light filtered in from in between waving leaves above us, and a bird nearby sang lustily. I realized that Henry was staring at me, so I got up to cover my confusion.
“Let's keep moving, “I said, and started walking to the right. Suddenly, I had a strange feeling, like someone was pulling me by strings. Before I knew what was happening, I started running in a completely different direction than I had been going before.
“Emily, wait up! Stop!” Henry yelled, but I couldn’t stop moving, even though I wanted to. All of a sudden, my legs stopped moving. Losing my balance, I fell forward, and found myself face-to-face with a dragon egg. This one was much smaller than the one I had found before, and it didn't have a single crack. Slowly, I sat up, then took it in my hands. It was slightly warm, and it hummed gently in my grasp.
“Emily, what on—” Henry, quite out of breath, stopped talking when he saw what I was holding. “Emily, you must be a dragon master,” he said quietly. “I read that dragon eggs attract them.” I smiled and tucked the egg into my backpack, making sure it was cushioned in my jacket. “What are you doing with it?” Henry asked.
“I'm taking it back with me,” I said.
“You can't!” Henry said. “What if Mrs. Swift or my dad found it?”
“I'll hide it,” I said firmly. “And you can't convince me not to take it back with me.”
“Fine, fine,” Henry put his hands up in a gesture of defeat. “I don't want to mess with a mighty dragon master.” He grinned wickedly.
“Don't call me that!” I laughed. We play-fought all the way back to Rose Cottage.
Right after I had safely hidden the egg in the back of my dresser, I realized the folly of what I had done. What if the egg had been in a dragon's nest? What if a full-grown dragon came looking for its egg? And, most importantly, how do you take care of a dragon egg? I assumed that the egg was kept warm, so I wrapped the egg in several layers of blankets. But did it need anything else? In the next week, Henry was very busy helping Luke take care of the garden and the horses in the stable, so one quiet afternoon I went to the window seat to write about the egg and everything else in my journal. It was pleasant, being cushioned in between a thick curtain and the bright window, and I relaxed as my pen recorded the past few days' events in my notebook.
Before I knew it, I was dozing, and I woke up just as I was tumbling out of the window seat onto the stairs. Picking myself up, I found that I was not too badly hurt, only a little bruised on the side that I had fallen on, and a little dazed. Then I noticed something strange. The cushion that I had been sitting on was askew, even though it had appeared to be firmly attached to the wooden base. Curious, I pulled the cushion off the seat and found a dark hollow underneath. It didn't look like there was anything in there, but just as I was replacing the cushion something caught my eye. Reaching down, I pulled out a dirty, indescribable rectangular object. Making sure nobody was watching, I hurried up to my room to examine what I was holding.
Once I was safely in my room, I used a damp cloth to wipe the dust and grime off the object I had found. After it was clean, I realized I had a book, and its dim title was “The Life and Care of Dragons.” Unable to contain myself, I let out a quiet sound of delight. The rest of the afternoon I pored over the book, and by suppertime I knew everything about taking care of a dragon egg, and how to care for a dragon into adulthood. But I was a little puzzled. Why was the book hidden like that? Did Grandmother know about the dragons, too? I also learned something so fascinating that I couldn't wait for Henry to be able to talk to me.
At supper, Henry looked worn out from his long workday with Luke, and I knew he was feeling rather disappointed from not seeing a full-grown dragon a few days ago. Immediately after supper I took Henry upstairs and showed him my find. “And guess what, Henry?” I finished with. “The book says only those who are a descendant of one of the first five dragon masters can see dragons.”
“Whoa.” Henry looked awed. “Does that mean my dad can see the dragons, too?”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “The book says that sometimes 'the sight,' as the book calls it, skips a generation or two. I wonder if Grandmother has it,” I added. “I have good reason to believe so.” I told Henry about where I had found the book.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Henry said doubtfully. “Perhaps the previous owner of this house put it there.”
“Perhaps,” I said, hoping he was wrong. For the next few weeks I took care of the egg according to the instructions in the book, and slowly it grew bigger until I had to hide it under my bed instead of in the dresser. Finally, when the egg was the designated size for hatching, I met Henry in the stable with the dragon egg in my backpack with the book.
“So,” Henry said, looking at the egg where it sat in between us on a bale of hay. “It's almost ready to hatch, then?”
“Yes. The book says to leave it in a cool, quiet place in the forest for the last week until it hatches. Since that is soon—” I fell silent, hearing footsteps.
“Quick! Hide the egg in the hay and follow my lead!” Henry whispered.
I did so, then followed Henry to the door. Going outside, we saw Luke walking towards us. “Hello, children,” he called out cheerfully. “What are you doing?”
Naturally quiet, I felt frozen inside, but Henry immediately replied, “I was showing Emily the horses. She says she wants to learn how to ride.”
I already knew how, but I kept silent as Henry and his father made small talk, then Luke went inside the stable. Henry and I looked at each other, helpless, then went slowly back to Rose Cottage. “Don't worry, we'll get the egg later,” Henry whispered to me as we climbed the front steps.
When we went inside, Grandmother took me aside, into the sunny living room. “Do you remember your friend, Cecily Philips?” I nodded vigorously. How could I forget Cecily? “Well, she's coming to visit you later today,” Grandmother continued. “Your mother thought you would like that.” Cecily only lived a few minutes from my old house, and a half hour walk from Grandmother's house.
As Henry and I went back to the stable, to see if Luke was gone, I told him of Cecily's visit. But when we entered the stable, something took my mind completely off of Cecily. The egg was gone! Henry and I searched the hay bale over and over again, but we couldn't find it. I thought I would cry. Where was the egg? When Cecily came later that day, even thought I was very excited to see my best friend again, I was rather absent-minded, as Cecily called it, and couldn't get the dragon egg off my mind. I wished that I had been more careful, had put the egg in a better spot, but wishing wouldn't help, only looking would. After Cecily left, it was too late to keep looking for the egg, so Henry and I made a plan to look for the dragon egg tomorrow.
After a delicious breakfast of eggs with bacon and hot buttered toast, Henry took one half of Grandmother's property, and I took the other, and both of us searched to the best of our ability, but at dinnertime we met empty-handed. After dinner, we went to search again, and at about 2 o'clock Henry gave the agreed signal, which meant “I found the egg!” I ran as fast as I could to the stable, where Henry was waiting for me in the hayloft.
“The egg is hatching,” Henry whispered, and sure enough, I could hear the chip-chip-chip sound. Quickly I clambered up the ladder and saw the egg sitting in a small pile of hay. “I think that my father doesn't have the sight,” Henry said, a little sadly. “Apparently, he used his pitchfork to move some of the hay up into the hayloft, and just by chance he got a pile of hay with the egg in the center of it. I can't believe we didn't think to look up here!”
I slowly sat down next to the egg and watched as spider-web cracks spread all over the egg. I held my breath as a chunk of the shell fell off the egg and a purple dragon poked its head through the hole. Seeing me, it scampered over to my lap and curled up, purring. I couldn't help smiling as I stroked its warm, scaly head. “Look, Henry,” I said quietly, “It's a very healthy baby dragon.” Henry uncertainly reached out his hand to touch the dragon. The dragon looked wary, but I whispered calming words to it, and it let Henry pet him.
I checked the book to see how to tell if the dragon was a boy or a girl. After looking at the baby dragon and reading the book, I determined that the dragon was a girl. When I told Henry, he looked a little disappointed, but was still excited at the thought of his own pet dragon. Suddenly, I had a feeling that someone was watching us. “What is it, Emily?” Henry asked, noticing my worried look. Looking behind me, I thought I was going to faint. There, standing on the floor beneath me, was Grandmother, staring at me with her hands on her hips.
“Emily! What are you doing up there in your nice dress? And Henry? You should know better than to take her up there!” Grandmother's frown was replaced with a look of astonishment. “W-where did you find that dragon?” she whispered. As I explained to her all about my being a dragon master, Grandmother climbed up the wooden ladder to the hay loft and listened attentively, seeming not to notice the hay sticking to her dress. After I finished, Grandmother nodded slowly and said “I hid the dragon book in the window seat. A couple of years ago, the New York governor banned all books about dragons, since people were irritated with the fact that they couldn't see dragons. The reason I hid the book instead of giving it over to the authorities was that I have been studying dragons my whole life, hoping to touch one.” Here Grandmother glanced at me, cuddling the dragon.
“You mean you've never touched a dragon, even though you've been living here for decades?” Henry looked astounded.
Grandmother sighed sadly. “Yes, and nobody I knew had the sight like me. My husband didn't have it, my daughter didn't have it, her husband didn't have it either. Then, you came.” Grandmother smiled at me. “I could tell, by the shape of your eyes, that you could see them. Dragons.” For the first time, I noticed how Henry and Grandmother's pupils looked like mine, slightly slanted. “Now, you must remember that dragon masters are very rare,” Grandmother continued. “Only about one out of every 100 people who have the sight are dragon masters. That's how lucky it is to find one,” Grandmother said, looking at me.
“Why haven't I ever noticed the dragons until now?” I asked, puzzled.
“You were never looking for them,” was Grandmother's simple answer.
Unsure of what to say next, I looked down at my dragon again. The size of a lizard, she had tiny, fragile wings which were folded back, and liquid black eyes which peered up at me.
“What are you going to name her, Emily?” Grandmother asked. I thought about it for a moment, then answered “Light, because she let me see into the world of dragons.”
By the time my parents came back at the end of August, Light was almost as big as a horse. The book had told me that dragons grew very quickly, but I still wasn't prepared for the phenomenal change in Light. She may have been a dragon, but she was very gentle, and only blew out fire if I wanted a toasted marshmallow. I had also found dozens of dragons in the woods, and had befriended most, if not all of them. But none of them were as special to me as Light. Once she outgrew the bed I made for her in my bedroom, she slept in the forest, but I visited her every day with some fresh herbs to feed her. Yes, Light was a vegetarian.
When I came back from a visit to Light and saw my parents' car in the driveway, I immediately felt rather gloomy. I had missed my parents, but I wasn't ready to leave Luke, Grandmother, Light, and Rose Cottage for a long time. I especially didn't want to leave Henry. By now we were very good friends, and I didn't want to be away from him to explore the woods find new dragons. Also, I didn't want to be alone again. Now that I knew about dragons and was a dragon master, being with two people, even my parents, who didn't know about dragons was a scary thought. All this went through my head as I went through the back door and bumped into Henry, who was listening at the living room door. I felt a sense of gratitude towards him, since he really cared about what was going to happen to me.
“What are the saying?” I whispered to Henry.
“I don't know yet,” he admitted. “They just went in there.”
Suddenly, the door flew open and Grandmother stood there, looking surprised to see us. “Emily, your parents have to tell you something.”
Feeling Henry's eyes boring into my back, I shakily walked into the room. Mother and Father sat on the couch, each with a smile on their face. At that moment I could not think of a single thing to smile about, and it showed on my face by the way my parents looked at me.
“Don't look so sad, Emily,” Father said gently. “I've decided to get back my old job, because I've missed it a lot, and, of course, I was thinking of you.”
“Does that mean—?” I whispered excitedly.
“Yes,” Mother said. “We're moving back to our old house.”
“Yay!” I shouted, jumping up and down. I knew I was too old to do it, but this was one of the happiest moments of my life. My old house was only a 10-minute drive from Rose Cottage, and I would be able to visit Henry and Light all the time.
“One more thing,” Mother said, looking at Father. “I'm having a baby.”