Dawn Quixote

Contrary to popular belief, most of the Grimm Brothers’ fairy tales don’t actually begin with the line, “Once upon a time.”  There are a variety of openings, but the most common one is, “In the olden days, when it was still of use to wish for things…”

At least, that’s what Dawn’s dad had told her. 

Dawn then considered that, for a person in the future, right now would be considered “the olden days” and it might still be of use to wish for something. So, she wished for a dragon, as any respectable second grader would. 

Her second-grader (okay, not quite a second-grader until the end of the summer, but still) logic must have been sound because, the very next morning, a dragon showed up. 

Dawn and her friend Pancho had been climbing the hill to the abandoned trash pile, a perfect early morning activity for the lazy days of summer break.  They poked through the offal and pile of discarded items, thoroughly enjoying themselves and completely failing to wonder about the questionable parenting techniques that were allowing them to have this experience.

**SNORT**

Dawn and Pancho’s heads jerked up at the noise.  Standing in front of them was a dragon.  It was a little on the small size but, then again, nobody’s perfect.

“What is it?” Pancho asked, his voice quavering.

“A dragon!” Dawn exclaimed.  “I wished for him yesterday and here he is!”

“You weren’t very specific about that wish, were you?”

“You be quiet! He’s perfect.”

“How do you know he’s a he?” Pancho asked.

“Well, I mean look at him.  Isn’t it obvious?”

“NO! No, it isn’t!”

“Hmph. Your loss, I’m taking him home with me.  Mommy and Daddy said I could have a pet.”

“I don’t think this is probably what they meant,” replied Pancho.

Dawn didn’t dignify that with a response as she huffed off, her new dragon in her arms.  

She left him in the garage when she got home and left him some cheese puffs and lemonade, figuring that it would hold him over until they could go to the pet store and buy some dragon food. She also decided that she needed to name him.  Assessing his finer and more obvious character traits, she decided that his name was Stinky the Smelly. It had to be a two-part name, like the dragons in the storybooks that all had names like Barglefarge the Malignant.  Stinky was much easier to spell and a name made him an official family member. 

Mom and Dad weren’t necessarily convinced by that line of reasoning though, when she took them out to the garage after dinner.  As she explained what had happened and how they had promised that she could have a pet and that his name was Stinky the Smelly and he was her new best friend and how he would make all their lives wonderful and scare away Bentley, the boy who had picked on her in first grade, she saw Mom and Dad’s expressions change from disbelief.  She didn’t know what this new expression was but, the last time she’d seen it on Dad’s face, he’d called it “constipation,” whatever that meant. 

She heard them arguing through the walls after she went to bed that night.

“She can’t keep it!” Dad said.

“But we promised her,” came Mom’s muffled reply.

“Yeah, a pet, not a rat with mange.”

“Oh, come on! It’s clearly not a rat.”

“What is that thing then?”

“Um...well, it’s a ...not a rat?”

“Jesus.”

Dad talked to Jesus a lot, Dawn had noticed, even though Jesus never seemed to be in the room.  She hoped she could meet him some day, as much as Dad mentioned him. 

Dawn was allowed to keep Stinky and she proceeded to have the best summer ever.  They were inseparable.  They went to the garbage pile together, the creek to swim and to explore the woods.  Pancho eventually warmed up to Stinky and the three of them spent their days exploring the countryside.

The best day, though was when the class bully, Bentley, had cornered them in the woods.  He’d snuck up on them and backed them against a large rock.  Dawn hadn’t noticed that Stinky had wandered off. 

Bentley loomed over them, huge yet clueless.  The childhood bully was undoubtedly a complex, three-dimensional individual with many motivations for what he did to other children, possibly stemming from tragedies in his past but, Dawn realized, as he sucked on his fingers in preparation to stick them in her ears, she didn’t care.  Bentley was a jerk. 

As such, the greatest event of her life occurred a few seconds later when Stinky reappeared on top of the rock and jumped onto Bentley, breathing fire. At least Dawn swore later that he was breathing fire.

The bully ran off, in tears. Dawn and Pancho ran back home to explain what had happened to their parents.  She didn’t realize that Stinky hadn’t followed her. 

Her dad listened to the story, while Mom called Pancho’s parents.  Pancho had his eyes closed, so he couldn’t verify the fire-breathing part.  His father arrived soon afterward and took him home after Dawn’s parents explained what had happened. Pancho’s dad led him out the door muttering, “Dios mio.”  Dawn wasn’t sure who Dios mio was either, but Pancho’s Dad seemed to talk to him a lot.  She wondered if Dios mio knew Jesus. 

Later that evening, the local hospital called and asked Dawn’s mom some questions about what had happened to Bentley.  Dawn’s mom had explained as best she could and, pinching the bridge of her nose, sent Dawn to bed.

She heard them talking through the walls again.

“Look, obviously the thing couldn’t have breathed fire on him.”

“I’m just repeating what they said.  They said it looked like a combination of a thermal burn, chemical burn and some kind of animal bite, but not one they could identify.”

“Jesus.  What are they going to do?”

“He’s been treated and he’ll be fine, but if they catch the...critter?...it’ll probably be put down.”

“Is it still in the garage?  I haven’t seen it tonight.”

That couldn’t be good, Dawn realized.  They hadn’t picked him up, so how could he be put down?  It sounded like a code.

But Dawn wasn’t worried. Stinky had left for his next adventure.  She wished he could have stayed, but their story was over and dragons never stayed past the end of the story.   She’d  had a good summer with her friend and would always remember him. Bentley wouldn’t bother her anymore, so the second grade was already looking up. 

She went to bed happy.