A retelling of "The Reluctant Dragon" by Kenneth Grahame (1898).

**** Second Place, Dreamland Awards, July 2023 ****

I should have known better. You can't keep a dragon around without somebody noticing.

I thought I had a chance. The little town of Rock Ridge should be in the dictionary under the definition of remote. It rested way up in the mountains and at the end of a rough road that no agency wants to maintain.

My mom and I lived in a rundown cabin among tall spruce trees at the base of the ridge for which the town was named. The pink granite cliffs towered over us. A slip of a big boulder from above might completely ruin our day. That was why no one else wanted to live here. But the rent was cheap enough that even we could afford it.

With the pandemic scare, I did remote learning, as they called it. This was a lonely existence, I suppose, but being somewhat of an introvert, I didn't mind. Especially since I had a dragon to keep me company.

The old, abandoned mines up on the cliff face, nearly inaccessible, were perfect places for dragons. Not that I was an expert on dragons or anything, but I did know one.

A shadow flickered across my window, momentarily blocking the late afternoon sun. I heard a faint tap. The dragon sometimes came by this time of day while my mom worked at her Pink Rock Bakery and Diner. She usually brought some food back later in the evening after the supper rush, if you could call four or five people a rush. She said there was going to be an emergency town hall meeting at the diner. Something about a dragon. Not a coincidence.

"Psst."

Two red eyes, blazing like the fires of hell, gazed in at me. The beast slithered through the open window, just barely fitting through with its wings folded back. Overlapping green scales shimmered with its movements and curved black talons clicked on the window frame. In a single fluid movement, it leaped on my bed, keeping its red eyes trained on me the whole time. The beast smiled as only a beast could, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.

"Oh, hey Zum." I continued with the tone of an accusation. "Haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to?"

Zum curled up on my bed, raising a paw to scratch and itch behind a pointed ear. "I've been in hiding." He sighed. "I fear, young Noah, that I was sighted while hunting on top of the ridge. So intent was I on devouring a young buck, one of my favorite foods I might add, that I did not notice the hikers that came upon me. One of them brandished a cell phone before fleeing, and now my image, blurred as it be, is spreading across Facebook."

I nodded. "Yeah, rumors of a vicious dragon are all over town."

Zum jerked his head up. "I am not the vicious sort! But rather a most civilized dragon." He settled back down. "Although, I shall admit to my shame that my table manners were perhaps lacking at the time."

"Oh, well. What was that quote you said? 'People fear what they don't understand'?"

The dragon grinned. "Ah, so you were paying attention! So true that is."

I spun my laptop around so Zum could see it. "Maybe you could help me with my book report? You might like this, it is on 'The Reluctant Dragon'."

"The short story by Kenneth Grahame?" I nodded in response. A smile widened on the dragon's long snout. "A wonderful piece of literature! Given the subject, one of my favorites. But before we delve into that, I have some exciting news! I took your advice and opened a Wattpad account. Already have I published two of my poems. Let me show you!"

In a flash of green, Zum jumped from the bed to my side. Sliding my laptop across the old wooden desk, he clacked on the keys. How he was able to do that with those long sharp talons without destroying the keyboard, I did not know.

He pointed at the screen. "There! See? My profile name is 'ZumtheDragon'. And there, these are my poems. Already have I twenty-seven reads!"

"Awesome!"

"There are many stories about dragons on Wattpad, but, oh, how poorly we are portrayed. A reader might be forgiven for believing we are all dull fire-breathing brutes just waiting for a human to enslave us. Disgusting it is that a website sworn to support marginalized groups allows such slander to occur." Zum shook his head. "Forgive me, my friend, for ranting so. A sternly written letter may be in order."

I put a hand to my chin. "Perhaps a story or two showing the true nature of dragons may be helpful. You once told me that the outlook of humanity can be shaped by well-worded literature."

"Indeed, I did. A splendid idea!"

I tipped my ear as the sounds of tires on gravel came to me. "Oh, no! My mom is home early."

The dragon bowed. "Then I shall take my leave."

I held up my hand as Zum reached the open window. "Wait. Would you like to meet my mom? It is only a matter of time that she would see you anyway."

Zum tilted his head. "Be that wise? Most people do not react well to meeting a so-called fearsome dragon."

"My mom is cool. Stay in my room for now. But when she comes in, try not to be scary."

I closed my bedroom door behind me and made my way to the kitchen. The old floorboards creaked under my feet, announcing my presence. My mom turned as she placed two loaded plastic bags on the counter. It looked like she had a busy day. Her frazzled ponytail was nearly undone. White streaks of flour lined her face and arms. Regardless, I always did like her smile.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hey, Noah." She wrapped me in a hug. Some of the flour that clung to her now clung to me. "How was your day?"

I shrugged. "Oh, you know, the usual. Umm, what happened at the town meeting?"

"Ohh..." She huffed a breath. "Some nonsense about that dragon. Most of the town is in an uproar. The mayor said he hired some famous hunter to get rid of it. Ridiculous! There is no such thing as a dragon."

Gulping, I stammered, "Yeah. I mean... Even if there was a dragon, it may be a nice one. You know?"

"I suppose so. But Mr. Simmons said a dragon took one of his goats and old man Harvey said one bit him on the arm."

I spoke up, narrowing my eyes in offence. After all, Zum was my friend. "A coyote more likely took the goat. And Harvey is usually drunk - he probably bit himself!"

Mom raised an eyebrow at my outburst. "What has gotten into you, Noah?"

How did you tell your mom you have a dragon in your room? Probably have to just come out and say it. "Mom, umm, there really is a dragon and he is in my room. But don't worry, he is a nice dragon. He helps me with my homework."

Mom smirked and folded her arms. "Oh really? Noah, I would like you to make some more friends, but I don't think they should be imaginary."

"I'll show you. Come on." I waved my arm toward my room.

I opened the door. "Mom, this is Zumlithe Wyrne, a dragon of the highest order."

Zum stood up on his hind legs, nearly hitting the ceiling with his head while trailing his tail behind. He made the most elegant of bows. "Ms. Smith, I am most pleased to make the acquaintance. Your son has told me so much about you."

I've never seen my Mom's face so pale or her eyes so wide. She seemed incapable of normal speech. "Uhhh..." She took a step back.

I put a hand on her shoulder. "Zum is cool. I am sure he would not snatch a goat or bite anyone."

Zum said, "Indeed not, ma'am. I only eat wild game and would never bite a human. Such disgusting flesh. I took a nibble ages ago and it took a fortnight to rid the foul taste from my mouth."

I nudged my frozen parent. "Say something, Mom."

She stammered. "Umm, you don't breath fire do you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Mommm..."

Zum raised a paw, being careful to keep his talons drawn in. "Not in the slightest, ma'am. It is a popular misconception as well as a violation of the laws of thermodynamics."

Mom took a deep breath. "This is quite a surprise... Mr. Wyrne."

"Quite understandable, Ms. Smith. I suppose it is not every day that you meet a dragon. And please, do call me Zum."

"Then, I guess you may call me Lissa. I understand you are helping Noah with his school work?"

"Only as a tutor, I assure you. I give suggestions and provide critical feedback, but Noah must do the work himself."

"Very good. It is important that he does." Mom cocked her head. "Zum, would you like to join us for dinner? I brought beef stew from the diner. I do have extra, although I do not know how much a dragon eats."

Zum lifted both front paws. "Not to worry, Lissa. After finishing a fat deer, I am only slightly peckish."

We sat down at the scratched wooden table, except Zum who stood on his hind legs. Having talons, he was somewhat awkward with a soup spoon.

Mom put a basket of bread rolls on the table. Zum's eyes widened as much as a dragon's eyes would. He took a roll and popped it in his mouth. "I must say, Lissa. Your bread rolls are absolutely delicious. Noah shares them with me on occasion. I understand you are an extraordinary baker?"

A smile widened on Mom's face. One of the surest ways to get on her good side was to compliment her baking. She replied, "I am indeed. I had wondered how Noah could eat so much bread."

Zum flicked his forked tongue across his fangs. "And your croissants, they are simply to die for." He gulped. "Perhaps as a dragon, I should not use that colloquial term."

Mom laughed. "Perhaps not. But thank you for the compliment. Where do you live, Zum?"

"In one of the old mines in the ridge above your house. It is quite comfortable and safe for me, only accessible by flying." Zum flexed the wings on his back.

"Why do you live so close to town?"

The dragon tilted his head and blinked. "Well, I must be honest. I have access to your wi-fi from there. I hope you don't mind."

Mom nodded. "For helping Noah with his school work, I consider it more than a fair trade."

I brought up the subject that we had thus far avoided. "What do we do about the townspeople?"

Mom put her spoon down. "Yes. They want a dragon to slay. The mayor hired a big-game hunter who would love to have a dragon head to hang on his wall."

Zum snorted. "I am guilty of no crime but existing! And I refuse to leave as an appeasement to the ignorant."

Mom shook her head. "Then, I fear, someone will die. This town has suffered enough with the downturn in the economy."

A thought came to me. Why did someone have to lose? Both Zum and Mom turned to me as I grinned. "I have an idea..."

*****

The weathered wooden door creaked on rusty hinges. Mom looked back as she pushed it open.

The mayor's voice came from outside. "Now Lissa, I am a busy man and Mr. Saint has a job to do. You said you had information about that terrible dragon. Why are we at your house?"

She tilted her head toward the inside and put on a sly grin. "Oh, do come in, Walt. The dragon himself will answer all your questions."

Two men passed the threshold, following my mom. The mayor, a stocky man with thinning dark hair, came through first. Following him came a tall muscular man in khaki clothes who had the aura of a dashing movie star. He removed his brimmed buckskin hat, letting bushy blonde hair fall out as he ducked through the doorway. The hunter, I presumed.

Their eyes went wide and they froze in place at the sight of a dragon curled up across the sofa. I don't think I'll ever tire of seeing that reaction.

Zum raised his head and huffed. "I assure you, Mr. Mayor, that I am in no way terrible."

My mom said to me, "Noah, would you do the introductions?"

I stood and cleared my throat. "This is Zumlithe Wyrne, a dragon. But I think you know that." I pointed to the stunned men. "And this is Mr. Walter Green, Mayor of Rock Ridge, and Mr. Saint - was it?"

The tall man regained his composure. "George Saint, it is. I was hired to hunt a dragon." He tightened his lips. "As such, this meeting is somewhat awkward, I think, Mr. Wyrne."

"It is indeed, Mr. Saint. I hope we may come to some satisfactory resolution on that matter. I have no desire to be slain, nor, I think, do you desire that you become the hunted." Zum flexed his front talons, one by one in a not-so-subtle threatening way. "Have you an ancestor in Saint George, the dragon slayer of lore?"

George shook his head. "Not of my knowledge, sir. I believe my name is purely coincidental."

Mom said, "Please sit down, gentlemen. I will prepare some tea while you begin the discussion of the matter at hand."

An uncomfortable moment of silence followed. No one seemed to want to speak the first words.

Zum relented. "My young friend had an intriguing idea to resolve our dilemma. Noah, if you would?"

I gulped as all eyes turned to me. "With the economic downturn, our little town has come into hard times." The mayor dipped his head, nodding. "Consider if we had a dragon, a nice dragon. People would come to see that. They would stay in your inn, Mr. Green, and eat at my Mom's diner. We might even sell some dragon souvenirs."

Zum lifted a paw. "I must insist on quality merchandise. No cheap tacky items, mind you."

The Mayor raised a bushy eyebrow. "Would we show the dragon?"

Zum bolted up, snarling. "Goodness, no! I shall not be displayed in some sort of zoo."

I held up my hands, hoping to ease the tension. "We only need an appearance in the wild now and then. Just enough to keep up the interest and spread the word, but not so much that the town would be overwhelmed with tourists. Maybe something like the Loch Ness Monster in Scotland?"

Zum perked up, showing some of his fangs with a grin. "Ah, yes. Haven't seen Nessie in ages, though. Quite the jokester, she was."

My Mom brought in a tray with five mismatched mugs. While she distributed them, she said, "Think of it, Walt. Under your leadership, the economic outlook of every registered voter in the town would improve. Not to mention a solution to the dragon issue. When is the next election again?"

The Mayor leaned forward and put a hand to his chin. "Hmm, that might work..."

The hunter tightened his lips in a frown. "And what of me? You do have a contract for my services and I do have a reputation to withhold. It would seem a shame now, though, to kill such a fine upstanding dragon."

"I should very much agree with that." Zum scratched the green scales on the underside of his chin. "Mr. Saint, have you ever dabbled in the theatrical arts?"

*****

"Help, someone! It's the vicious dragon!" My mom yelled from the massive stacked boulders at the edge of town. She tilted her head back with the a hand against her forehead. "Will anyone rescue me?"

The town was small enough, and with the natural amphitheater effect of the rocks, that nearly everyone would have heard her cries.

Rolling my eyes while hidden behind a boulder, I said in a loud whisper, "Mommm, not so melodramatic."

She was reluctant at first to play the 'princess in peril' part, as Zum called it. Because he noted, every dragon-slaying story should have one. But as we practiced the parts, she warmed to the portrayal. I was assigned the role of stage director.

Zum landed on the top of a huge boulder that towered above her, revealing his massive wingspan and casting a wide shadow. He huffed and snarled in a most menacing way. The bellowed howls echoed off the tall pink cliffs that framed our stage.

The townspeople emerged, one-by-one, murmuring among themselves, some carrying shocked expressions.

The Mayor led the way. He pointed. "Look! It's that terrible dragon!"

The audience was now in place.

George Saint, brandishing a hunting rifle and a long knife sheathed at his waist, dashed to my Mom's side and put a protective arm around her. "Fear not, fair maiden, for I am here to rescue you." He cast a threatening glare at the dragon. "Back, vile beast! You shall no longer threaten this fine town!"

I slid down in my hiding spot and slapped my head with a groan. This most certainly was a melodrama.

The dragon dove at the couple, sharp talons extended. In a whoosh of wings and dust, George and my mom leaped to the side, just avoiding the snatch of dark claws. The hunter raised his rifle only to have it knocked from his hands by a swipe of a green scaled tail.

The hunter drew a long knife and waved it, allowing reflected sunlight to dance from the shiny blade across the rocks. The dragon, low to the ground, huffed a breath from his nose, lifting a cloud of fine dust. The opponents circled each other like gladiators in the arena, and the crowd hushed in anticipation. Feints from both failed to draw the other in.

With a mighty roar, the fierce dragon lunged, leading with a snapping jaw and clasping claws. The hunter dove to the side. In a single rolling motion, he leaped up and thrust his blade into the dragon's side. To the crowd, it seemed a mortal blow, but as choreographed, the blade only pierced a fold of Zum's wing. The painless wound was actually little more than a scratch and, to be more convincing, left a smear of green dragon blood on the blade.

The dragon howled and, on hind legs, clutching his wounded side. He stepped back and staggered in an elaborate pirouette. The beast lifted his snout high and let out a mournful wail to the heavens.

I cupped my hand around my mouth to direct my voice. "Zum, don't over-act."

In a final huff of defiance, the dragon extended his wings and lifted from the ground. He flew in a wavering motion as if wounded and disappeared over the ridge.

The hunter held his blade high, shouting at the retreating beast, "Be gone, foul dragon! Darken this town no more!"

My mom rushed to George's side, embracing him. "Oh, thank you, brave sir, for rescuing me." She kissed him fully on the lips, molding her body against his. He reciprocated.

My mouth dropped and I felt a bit of a chill. She wasn't supposed to do that. That kiss wasn't in the script.

The crowd hooped and hollered in boisterous applause. Fortunately, the players resisted the urge for a final bow.

The mayor stepped forward and grasped George's hand in a firm handshake. He announced in a politician's bluster, "Well done, sir. By your bravery, our town is saved."

The audience clapped their hands in approval.

*****

I sat with my elbows on the table and my head in my hands. Zum popped a bread roll into his mouth, chewing contently. My mom purposely bakes extra rolls at her bakery to bring some home for Zum.

The dragon said, between chews. "Don't be so glum, my dear Noah. Your mother is in good hands."

I cringed. I wish he hadn't used the term 'in good hands'. Earlier this evening she was as giddy as a teen preparing for prom. George took her for fancy eating and dancing down in the valley. I should be happy for her, but it was still a bit too hard to think about. She said don't wait up for her, but I probably will.

I put on a half-smile. "I suppose you are right. Everything did work out for the best. After our performance the Inn is fully booked, my Mom's bakery fills with customers, and the Mayor even asked me if I would like to earn money leading hiking excursions above the ridge."

Zum grinned. "We did bring the house down with our production, did we not? He continued after devouring another roll. "I think in a week or two, I shall make another public appearance, just enough to maintain my fan base. I rather enjoy being the famous Rock Ridge Dragon."