From the Memoirs of Julie Cunningham: Dragon Orthodontist

Everyone always talked about how I should ‘take life by the horns and ride’ or some such nonsense. Given that I’ve never gone bull riding, I was never quite sure how to go about doing that. I know that this may come as a surprise to you, given that I’m a famous dragon orthodontist -- not something for the faint of heart, for certain. However, it’s the truth. I was almost incapable of making decisions -- right up until and including the first time I stared a dragon in the teeth.

Crooked teeth, I might add.

I was a hormonal fifteen year old girl at the time, with neither the presence nor the decision-making skills to find a date to the prom. Dragons had only made their reappearance in the real world five or so years prior, and they were still largely feared. I, for one, couldn’t decide whether they terrified me or filled me with joy.

You see? I was quite abysmal at decision making -- even when it came to something as apparently obvious as whether dragons were friends or foes.

As it happened, my present story begins with all of the elements described above -- prom night, dragons, indecision, and orthodontia.

It was quite a lonely night, prom. I had failed to find a date -- really failed to look for one whatsoever. Furthermore, I had failed to decide whether I should go to prom at all, given that I didn’t have a date. I had put off the decision for so long that it was far too late for me to find a dress, and so my decision was made for me. I would be staying home.

I sat alone in my bedroom, sullenly scrolling through my email and growing more and more anxious as I did.

College invitation. College invitation. College invitation…

Just that day I had received fifteen emails from different colleges. I was about half a year from acquiring my GED, in spite of my age, and dozens of colleges were already begging me to apply. Flattered as I was to have so many colleges falling over themselves to get me to their school, every time I opened my email inbox, I was faced with an impossible choice.

A lump rose in my throat. I sniffed, snapped my laptop shut, and went downstairs.

“Julie, is that you?” called my mother from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mom! I’m going out for a bike ride!”

I threw on my helmet and dashed out the garage door. I was speeding down the street in moments, pumping my legs as hard as I could.

Wouldn’t it be nice if I could out-pedal college invitations and other inevitable decisions?

I swerved onto a local bike trail. I didn’t particularly care where it led -- my photographic memory would guide me flawlessly home when the time came. I rode as hard as I could, until my side began to ache unbearably. I slowed to a stop, panting.

It was then, in the still of the night, that I heard a peculiar sound.

It was the flapping of large wings.

I froze, staring wide-eyed as a large, emerald green dragon landed on the trail before me. I couldn’t decide whether to be terrified or excited, so I just stood there -- staring.

The dragon’s glittering yellow eyes were the size of my head. Dark, sharp talons raked deep gashes in the cement biking trail. The thing that drew my eyes the most, however, were its teeth.

It’s jaw was nearly as long as I was tall, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. Three or four teeth jutted out of its closed mouth. The orthodontist’s daughter in me was horrified at how crooked they were.

It regarded me curiously, then cleared its throat.

“Um… hello, human.”

I blinked.

What should I say? ‘My, what big teeth you have?’ ‘Hello?’ Should I run?

“Listen…” continued the dragon, shifting its massive weight. “My cavemate and I need another person to play Go Fish…”

I blinked again.

I know, very intelligent of me.

Then the dragon moved its massive shoulders in what looked very much like a shrug, snatched me up in its talons, and took to the air.

I hardly had time to realize that I should have been scared before we were already landing. The dragon touched down at the mouth of a cave in the hills near my hometown, placing me gently on the ground beside it. It regarded me with that enormous eye for a moment, then lumbered into the cave.

Should I follow? What if the dragon eats me? I can’t just walk back; that would take all night.

For the billionth time, I stood frozen with indecision. In my opinion, there were far too many options at any given juncture, and each one could change the course of a life. How was I to choose between all the options, knowing that one might lead to a pleasant, cushy life, while another might lead to an untimely end? Perhaps one choice would lead me to a happy marriage and another to a tragic divorce. How I wished I could see the future so that I could know which choices to make ahead of time.

As I stood frozen outside of the dragon’s lair, I heard some conversation within.

“Hey Alvin! Did you find a third player for our game?”

“I’m not sure.” That was the dragon who had brought me here. “I found a strange little human girl. She doesn’t seem to be scared of me, but I don’t think she’s very intelligent.”

The other dragon roared with laughter. “Well at least she’ll be easy to beat! Where is she now?”

“Outside the cave where I left her.”

“Is she ‘intelligent’ enough to come in?”

I blinked, then blushed. Perhaps it was silly for me to stay out here. I swallowed, then made the first of many life changing decisions I would make that night.

I stepped tentatively into the cave.

The great cavern inside was surprisingly well lit, with standing lamps spaced evenly along the walls. I wasn’t quite sure what they were plugged into, but I wasn’t focused on the lamps. Curled at the far end of the cavern was the second dragon. It was purple and glittered like amethyst. It was a bit smaller than the dragon that had brought me here, but it had the same problem with its teeth.

I hadn’t yet begun working with my parents in their orthodontist’s office, but that was merely because I was fifteen and still technically in high school. Once I acquired my GED, they would hire me on. I had, however, studied their practice. Even as the dragon spoke -- something about how I was intelligent enough to walk on my own after all -- I could envision which arrangement of bracket, archwire, and O-ring would fix its teeth.

I shook my head slightly, realizing that the dragons were staring at me expectantly. If you’ve ever been stared down by two dragons that could swallow you whole and then move on to the main course, you understand why I suddenly felt the need to launch into a lengthy and rather breathy apology. If you haven’t, imagine walking into your living room after curfew to find your parents staring at you expectantly. It’s nearly the same sensation.

“M-my apologies,” I stammered. “I should have said something, or introduced myself, or something. You see, I was so startled, and then instead of eating me you asked me to play cards, and I didn’t know how to respond, and-”

The green dragon cut me off with a low chuckle that made my bones vibrate.

“So she does talk,” it mused. “Alright, why don’t you have a seat so we can get started?”

I gulped, but did as instructed in spite of my nerves.

You might be wondering how exactly a pair of extremely large dragons were to play cards -- particularly if you haven’t yet played cards with a dragon. The answer was quite simple and was, coincidentally, the same reason that twenty or so standing electric lamps could work in a cave in the hills.

It was magic.

Although, if you haven’t wrapped your mind around the existence of magic yet after fifteen years of dragons being known to the world, perhaps this isn’t quite the right memoir for you to read. I recommend that you begin with the memoirs of John Johnson, the most bland man to ever discover the existence of dragons.

I shall skip through the excruciatingly slow details of floating playing cards and dragon conversation (which can be quite dry) and skip to the part that this memoir is meant to explain: the part where I took my first steps toward dragon orthodontia. Suffice it to say that over the course of fifteen or so games of Go Fish, I had grown to be quite at ease in the company of my two new enormous friends.

I didn’t realize how late it was getting until Alvin -- the green dragon -- gave a great yawn. His colossal, toothy jaw opened wide, perhaps five feet away from me. My eyes were drawn to his vast maw, drinking in the crooked teeth and the underbite. I couldn’t help but wonder if it hurt him.

No sooner had my mind formed that idle thought than his jaw gave a resounding pop, which echoed around the cave and made my eyes water in sympathy. He groaned, easing his jaw closed again with another, quieter pop.

I sat quietly for a moment, dozens of conflicting thoughts tumbling around in my head, none of them quite fully formed. Finally, two thoughts landed and seemed to stick:

1. I can help him.
2. What if I went to school for orthodontia?

Admittedly, that last thought wasn’t particularly relevant, but I had been experiencing anxiety over what college I would attend for so long that it was nearly always hovering somewhere in the back of my mind.

It felt so right all of a sudden. So perfect. All at once, I knew which choice to make for what felt like the first time in my life.

I was so excited that I leapt to my feet, startling my dragon friends into dropping their hovering cards. I turned to Alvin, grinning like a lunatic.

“I can help you!” I declared.

He stared at me, clearly not understanding.

I shook my head, beginning to pace. “It would be a lot of work, but you clearly have an underbite, which is putting quite a bit of strain on your jaw. If I could fashion braces large enough…”

“Excuse me,” Alvin cut in, “what do you mean ‘I have an underbite?’”

I looked back at him, surprised. I had almost forgotten he was there, I had been so wrapped up in my own plans. “Well, your bottom jaw sticks out farther than your upper jaw. That’s what causes the popping.”

If dragons could look surprised, Alvin pulled it off quite nicely. “And… you can help with that?”

I nodded, matter-of-factly. “I believe I can. I’ve been studying orthodontia for quite some time, and with a bit of guidance from my parents, I should be able to craft some braces for you.”

The dragons exchanged looks, then Alvin turned back to me, giving his odd dragon-shrug.

“Sounds good to me.”

I grinned at him again, and then surprised myself with quite a large yawn of my own.

I blinked, realizing for the first time how sore my eyes were.

“I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a quick flight back to where you found me?”

The rest of the night was a blur really. Alvin flew me back to my bicycle, which I walked back home. My parents were up waiting for me (apparently it was one in the morning) however, I was far too exhausted to feel particularly nervous. I somehow made it up the stairs to my bedroom.

There on my bed was my laptop. I turned it on and was confronted once again with the plethora of emails I had received from colleges all around the world. I smiled, looking up as my mother entered the room.

“Mom?” I asked, noting sleepily how slurred my words sounded. “Where did you go to school to be an orthodontist?”

So my story begins. As I stated in the beginning of this memoir: I would go on to become the person I am today -- the first and most famous dragon orthodontist. It seems surprising to me that the beginning of such a long and fulfilling career could have been so fraught with indecision and anxiety. Although, in retrospect, anxiety is somewhat of a given when working inside the mouths of dragons is up for consideration.

In any case, I do hope you’ve learned something of value from this narrative. Perhaps about how life is filled with choices, and it’s best not to stress over outcomes that are impossible to predict; or perhaps about how dragons are really not all that scary. After all, if I can stand inside the mouth of a dragon and inflict pain on it without any especially dire consequences, certainly anyone else can carry on a conversation.

And so I bid you adieu, until I should decide to publish another portion of my story.