Chapter the 12th
Michael shrank back as Samantha walked towards him, but when Michael realized there was no sign of reproach in her face, he stood still and waited for her. Samantha took one of Michael's claws in her hand and held it for some time.
"I knew you'd come," said Samantha.
Only then did Michael wonder how she could have recognized him in his dragon shape. Did boys turn into dragons all the time in Carelin?
"I didn't know I was coming,” said Michael. Then he waited for Samantha's smart reply.
"Then I knew something you didn't know," said Samantha. "But now we both know it."
Michael looked at the wreckage about him. A tornado touching down in Carelin could not have done more damage than the dragon had. Piles of dimes from the dime store were scattered all up and down the block. A few pigeons were pecking through the rubble for whatever food they could find.
"It's all my fault, isn't it?" said Michael.
Samantha nodded, yet even then she did not push any blame on Michael.
"Guess I'd better see Myra," said Michael.
Samantha nodded again.
“Where are Amarilla and Roger?"
The question broke Samantha's composure and her face crumpled and she looked away. Michael knew better than to pursue the matter. He looked up at the sky, looking for Scott but there was no sign of him.
"So Myra really did it?" Michael asked.
“She did something.”
“Do you mean she may have appeared to eat half the children of Carelin but really did something else?”
“I don’t know what I mean,” Samantha replied.
Then she burst into tears. Michael looked around once more and wished he hadn’t. He saw a fountain that had been destroyed, leaving a muddy pile of jagged rocks.
"Are you coming?" asked Samantha, a tear still drying on her face.
Michael could hardly look at her.
"Can we wait for my friend?"
"Yes," Samantha answered, but she was not convincing.
"You really mean I can't wait for him, don’t you?" said Michael.
"I mean—“ Samantha stammered "that we can wait as long as you like, but Myra might not wait as long as you like."
"I see." Michael endured another long pause while he gave Scott a little more time to find his way to Carelin. Then he knew he had to give up. "Do you know where to lead me?"
Samantha nodded.
"Myra is waiting in the park."
"Good for her."
Samantha took Michael by the claw again and led him down Main Street. With only half the stores standing, he could see all kinds of interesting architectural designs he had overlooked before. He wondered what had been lost in the rubble without his ever having seen it. Samantha nudged Michael and led him between two stores. The narrow alley led to another street. Nowhere did Michael see any people besides himself and Samantha.
"Is anybody left?" asked Michael.
"Yes. They are waiting at the park now that it is time to decide whose turn it is."
"You mean you—just decide who to sacrifice to the dragon next?"
Samantha nodded.
"Couldn't someone just slay this dragon and be done with it?!" Michael cried out.
"Yes," answered Samantha.
But Samantha's tone of voice made it clear that in Carelin one did not slay dragons, no matter what.
"Are you afraid?" asked Samantha.
"What do you think?"
"I think you are afraid. I think you are afraid of death."
"YOU BET THE LAST HAIRS ON YOUR HEAD I'M AFRAID!"
"What for?"
"BECAUSE DEATH ANNIHILATES ALL BEING! IT'S THE GREAT NOTHINGNESS IN THE BLOT OF LIFE!" Michael cried out.
"You mean you are afraid of nothing?"
Even through the wreckage, Michael recognized some of the houses he had delivered papers to the last time he was in town. That recognition made him shudder.
"IF DEATH IS A GREAT BIG NOTHING THAN I'M AFRAID OF NOTHING!"
"Then death is something," Samantha persisted.
"IT IS NOT!"
Yes, it is."
"No it's not!"
"Then there's nothing to be afraid of."
"If there's nothing to be afraid of," said Michael, "Then why don't you want to die?"
"Didn't say I didn't. Didn't say I did."
"How come even a little girl like you knows all this stuff?"
"How come you know all this stuff, Dragonbrain?"
Michael's tongue tied itself up over that retort. Samantha, giving every appearance of skipping off to fun and games rather than a matter of life and death, began to whistle. Michael found himself joining in softly with a melody of his own that went with it. Samantha began to improvise on the strange melody while Michael developed his.
As they sang and whistled, they turned one corner after another that wasn’t not there until they came upon it. Then Samantha ducked down and lead Michael through an opening in a pile of rubble so low there appeared not to be enough room for them to enter the tunnel. But they did. The sudden darkness blinded Michael, but Samantha's hand tugged him on as surely as if Samantha could see perfectly. Michael kept bruising himself against boards and strange objects sticking out at him, but remembering what was in store for him, the little pains seemed unworthy of thought. Somehow, the music was reassuring, although Michael didn't see how singing could make getting chewed up by a dragon more pleasurable.
A sudden blast of light made Michael stagger and Samantha let go of his paw. Michael let his eyes refocus, and soon he could see for himself that he and Samantha were in the park. First, he saw a broken swing set. Then he saw a crowd of people at one end of the park. Michael screwed up enough nerve to look in the direction where he knew Myra was waiting for him. And there she was. The dragon had her body wrapped around the tree where she had laid her eggs. There was no fruit on it now, neither were there any leaves. The familiar red bird flew in front of Michael as if it had come to lead the way for the last steps Michael would ever take in his life.
"Oh, Samantha, I knew you would come!" a man called out.
Michael followed Samantha toward the gathered crowd. He saw Uncle Martin and Aunt Edith looking very anxious. Next to them was the man who had been kind to him when he first delivered papers in Carelin. A worried-looking man in a tuxedo stood apart with a small group of ragged, worried-looking boys. Near the group of boys there stood about half a dozen pirates like the ones he saw before, black eye patches, parrots on the shoulder, and all. Next to the pirates was the young man dressed in green holding a small harp in his hands whom Michael also saw right after the invisible parade during his last visit. But most of all, Michael's attention was caught by a man who was dressed like a king. He wore a long coat lined with ermine fur and he wore a heavy gold crown on his head. With everybody else looking quite ordinary except for the pirates and the man in the tuxedo, the king looked rather ridiculous to Michael.
“It was so kind of you to come, Samantha, for the sake of our dear town of Carlin,” said the king, his voice dripping with sour honey.
"Is it my turn?" Samantha asked the king.
"Well, I wouldn't want to put it that way," said the king. "But the time is coming when somebody else must visit our good friend Myra over there."
"No!" cried Aunt Edith. “She’s my last one!”
She started to run up to Samantha, but Uncle Martin restrained her.
“You won’t be the first to have lost your last one,” said a distraught woman.
“Why don’t you send you last child?” asked an angry man.
The king puffed out his chest with wounded dignity.
“My last one is not available,” the king answered him. Then he turned back to Samantha. “You know how we will all miss you, Samantha," said the king, "but you know how it is. We have to think of the kingdom and of the royal court which sustains it all in being."
Samantha stiffened and nodded.
"Remember that all dragons claim to be beneficent," said the king, "so I think you can count on having a rather good time inside of Myra with the other children."
Samantha nodded.
This was all Michael could stand. He stepped forward.
"Samantha's not going!" Michael cried.
There was a gasp from the crowd.
"I am the one who picked the fruit from the dragon's tree. Myra has devoured enough of your children. Now, she shall devour her heart's desire."
“We don’t want to lose you, either!” Aunt Edith cried out.
The shock that somebody somewhere cared if he lived or died was almost enough to knock Michael flat.
“Don’t worry,” said Michael, “I’m a lost cause anyway.”
“Thank you so much for your offer,” said the king, “we’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“With a nicer tombstone than I would have gotten back in Milton, Pennsylvania?” Michael asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to put it that way,” said the king.
“Neither would we!” yelled Uncle Martin as he corralled Samantha to keep her safe, if possible.
The young harpist stepped forward.
"Uh—I could play for you—if that would help," he offered.
"That's not necessary," said the king.
"IT IS, TOO, NECESSARY!" Michael yelled.
The king snapped his jaw shut, and the harpist began to play a gentle melody that had a soothing effect on Michael as he began to approach the dragon who lay in waiting for him.
“Would you like for what’s left of the Carelin boys’ choir to sing for you?” asked the man in the tuxedo.
“Are you the guys I heard rehearsing in that country store the other day?” Michael asked.
“I lose track of our rehearsal venues faster than the boys do,” said the director, “but we will do our best.”
“Then you might as well,” said Michael with a sharp look to the king to make sure he said nothing.
The boys began to sing something dreary that went along with the music the harpist was playing. Michael doubted that the music would prolong his life, but he thought it was making his last moments less terrible somehow. He looked over to Myra and she looked back at him with beady eyes. It was enough to make Michael rather glad that his life hadn’t amounted to anything so that he wasn’t losing much. Ever since he first accepted what he had to do, Michael imagined that his encounter with Myra would be dramatic. Perhaps he draw an imaginary sword out of the thin air and slay her and free a city that wouldn't free itself. Or he would hang his head and ask for the forgiveness he could not hope for and then bow before the punishment prepared for him? Or would he close his eyes so as not to see her jaws come down on him? He wondered if he would experience the sensation of his body being ground to bits without flinching.
But nothing happened the way Michael imagined it. Through all his worry and dreams of a heroic slaying or a heroic death, Michael had forgotten the dragon struggling for birth inside him. As he stood before Myra, he melted before the burning kindness in her eyes. Suddenly, fire burst from Michael's chest and blazed out of his mouth as he cried: "Mother!" The dragon within pulled Michael towards Myra faster than a bullet. Like a meteor, he crashed into the dragon and flung his dragon arms around her in a loving embrace.