Sharon had
already jumped down from her side and was talking to the horses as if they
could understand her. They were just dumb animals, but she had a soft spot for
them. Ben usually thought it was sweet. Today it annoyed him.
No, if he was
honest, he was annoyed because he knew any minute she was going to turn her
attention to the dragons. She would want to drag him over to see them while she
ooh’d and aah’d about how beautiful and magnificent they were. He was already
thinking of an excuse, but she came around the horses and hugged him, catching
him off guard. He hugged her back and gave her quick kisses, then pulled her
away from the dragons toward the café.
As they walked
in, still arm in arm, his heart sank. All the tables and the counter seats were
full. There was only one single guy sitting at a table, and before Ben could
reign her in, Sharon had already walked up to him. “Hi! It’s a full house today
– mind if we join you?”
The guy looked up
from his paper and waved his coffee mug toward the opposite seat. “Help
yourself. There’s coffee in the pot if you wanna grab a couple mugs from the
counter.” Ben groaned. Sharon really had no sense of strangers – they were just
friends she hadn’t met yet. She picked up two mugs off the counter and waved to
the waitress, then slid onto the empty bench. Ben had no choice but to sit next
to her.
The other guy
gave him a funny look. “Name’s Richard. Richard Jansen. You look an awful lot
like someone I used to know. What’s your name, son?”
Ben shifted
uncomfortably on the bench. “Ben. Ben Waltham. This is Sharon Cates.”
Richard nodded. “I
wondered. I can’t believe it. Waltham – you have got to be related to George
Waltham. You’re his spittin’ image.”
Ben jerked
upright. His hand trembled on the table. Sharon put hers over his, squeezing,
calming. She laced their fingers together. Bern focused on them, trying to
breathe calmly. “How did you know my Uncle George?” He already knew the answer.
He’d seen it outside.
“I trained with
him in the Dragon Corps, and we rode together for sixteen years. He was a good
man, your uncle. I still miss him.”
Ben spat out. “He
was…until that monster killed him! Is that her out there? Do you ride his
killer?” Sharon gripped his fingers tight, her face draining of color. He had
never told her why he disliked the dragons that fascinated her so.
Richard’s face
darkened, and he set down his coffee mug with slow precision. “Son, someone’s
done you a disservice. Old Bess didn’t kill George.”
“What do you know
about it?” Ben almost shouted. He drew in a ragged breath and preprared to tell
Sharon they had to get out of there.
Richard said
quietly, “I was there. I saw the whole thing.”
Ben sank back in
the seat, staring, as Richard continued. “Bess didn’t kill your uncle, Ben. He
was working hazmat, trying to contain a crazed dam. The dam knocked him out
with her tail, and Bess stood over him. She tried to save him from being
roasted alive.” He hesitated, his gaze turned in, replaying the memory. “Bess
took the flames herself. She still has the scars. The dam was in a rage,
shooting flame all around. It took the hazmat crew almost twenty minutes to
contain her. By that time, George was dead, and Bess nearly was.”
Richard lifted
his coffee mug. “I don’t know who told you otherwise, son, or why. But your
uncle was a good friend to me and a hero that day. Yes, I took care of Bess
while she healed. We mourned for George together.”
Ben stared at the
table, his fingers still entwined with Sharon, the dingy, well-fingered menu
against the window – anywhere but Richard. “My mother. She told me Bess turned
on him for no reason.”
Sharon asked, “Why
would she lie to you like that?”
Ben looked up,
finally meeting Richard’s gaze. Richard nodded his understanding. Ben said, “She
was afraid. She didn’t want me to become a dragon rider too.”
Richard left a
few bills on the table and collected his paper and cap. He stood and looked
down at them. “Would you like to meet her? I think she would be mighty happy to
meet you.”
Ben looked away
again and shook his head. Sharon leaned against him and smiled sadly up at
Richard. “Thank you. Really. Maybe we’ll see you another time. Take care of
yourself.”
“You too, young
lady. Both of you.” He rested his hand on Ben’s shoulder for a moment, then walked
away. Ben sat staring, sightlessly, listening to the bells on the café door as
it opened and closed. Sharon sat quietly with him.
Suddenly Ben leaped
up without a word and ran out the door.
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Time
writing:
|
45 minutes
|
|
|
|
|
October
word count:
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2,468
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