Short Stories

Story Challenge: ‘For Love of Bernadette’

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

 

COW & MILKHere’s my own response to the story challenge I posted yesterday. (Write a story of 500 words or less that includes a cow, a barber, and a child.) Hope a lot of you take part as well. Find all the details about participating here.

 

FOR LOVE OF BERNADETTE

 

Herbie was a barber. And he was good at his job. He had customers from all over the county. But Herbie didn’t like his job. He’d inherited the business from his father, but he’d never enjoyed it.

What he really wanted to do was own a dairy farm. Every evening when he finished work, he drove out of town and cruised by Old Man Swagle’s farm, looking at the fields of cows and the neat homestead – and dreaming.

Sometimes he’d stop, walk to the fence, and pet the cows. They knew him by now and came to him, but there was one particular brown and white lady who made sure she got the most of his attention. It made him feel loved.

If only he could manage to buy the farm. Old Man Swagle had put it on the market last year, but so far no one had met his price. Herbie had some money saved, and he’d talked to the bank about a mortgage, but Isabelle, his betrothed, said he’d be a fool to leave a secure business and go into debt for a cow farm. He used to love to talk about his dream, but lately, he’d just stopped mentioning it to Isabelle. He didn’t like the quarrels it led to. Sometimes he wondered …. But … they’d been engaged a whole year. It wouldn’t be right to back out now.

One evening, as Herbie sat on the fence and petted his favorite cow, Swagle’s 11-year-old grandaughter came running across the field. He knew she visited often, and today she hailed him. “Hi,” she said. “Grandpa sent me to fetch Bernadette.”

“Oh, is that her name?”

“Yep. Grandpa let me name her.” She gave him a speculative look. “ My Grandpa said you want to buy this farm.”

“He did, huh? Well he’s right, but I don’t think I can.”

“Oh,” she said, hanging her head in disappointment. “I sure wish you could buy it.” She looked up. “My Grandpa is getting really tired and wants to come into town and live at my house with me and Mommy and Daddy. I stayed all night last night, and I heard Grandpa praying a long time that God would send someone today to buy the farm and take care of the cows the way he does.”

Herbie felt tears rush to his eyes.

“Why can’t you buy it?”

He cleared his throat. “Well … the lady I’m going to marry doesn’t want to live on a farm.”

“But you love cows. I can tell. I’ve watched you petting them and talking to them.”

Herbie nodded.

“And you’d keep them and take care of them just like Grandpa does.”

Herbie nodded again. “If I could buy the farm.”

“You know what I think?” she said.

“What?”

“I think you should tell that dumb lady to marry someone else, and you should come and live here with Bernadette.”

And Herbie did.

 

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Story Challenge: A Cow, A Barber, & a Child

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

 

Okay, blogging buddies, I’m in the mood for another story challenge this week. Write me a story (or a poem if you prefer) that includes the following:

 

 

COW & MILK

A COW

 

BARBER CARTOON - BLUE

A BARBER

`

BOY FOR RESCUE - SHORTER YELLOW
A CHILD OR CHILDREN
(Boys or girls, any age)

 

Word limit: 500 words or less.

Remember that my blog is “G” Rated.

Post your story on your own blog and hop over here and put the link to it in the “Comments” section of this post. Also make any comments you like as well.

Time limit: Challenge will run through next Saturday, May 10, 2014, and will close at 12:00 midnight that night (U.S. Central Daylight Time). But, of course, if you want to post a story any time after the 10th, that’s fine.

Feel free to use any of these pictures with your own story if you’d like to do so.

Happy Writing!

 

 

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Velvet Verbosity # 373 — ‘Light the Lamp’

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

OIL LAMP, CROPPED -- PUB DOMAIN

“Light the lamp, Matthew. Set it clearly in the window.”

“But, Father, it’s burned every night for months.  Tom’s not coming home.”

“Yes, he is.  He promised me.”

“You know we heard that his whole battalion was wiped out.”

“No.  I feel him in my heart.  He lives.  And this snowstorm is so thick; he’ll need the light to guide him through the woods.”

“But there’s only a few hours of oil left.”

“Light the lamp, Matthew.  The oil will last.  The lamp will burn until your brother walks through that door.”

 

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Join the fun writing your own 100-word story based on this week’s prompt: BURN. 
http://www.velvetverbosity.com/blog/2014/4/7/100-words-373-national-poetry-month

 

 

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25-Word Story Challenge: ‘Wedding Plans’

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

 

 

Here’s my story for the 25-word story challenge.

BRIDE_02 - PINK

 

 

WEDDING PLANS

 

“Sorry folks,” Carter said. “Seems my bride eloped with someone else.” He laughed. “She took the car I’d arranged for my own last-minute escape.”

 

~~~

 


To join in the fun, hop over to the challenge itself and get the details (link above).    It’s really easy – well – easy to join – not so easy to write a complete story in 25 words – but, hey, if it were easy, why do it, right?

 

 

 

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Writing Challenge: The 25-Word Story

| Sandra Pavloff Conner
WOMAN AT COMPUTER - HAPPY

 

Well, my jolly blogging buddies, I have a new wee challenge for you this morning. Most of us have heard the story that at one point in his career, the writing legend Ernest Hemingway accepted a challenge to write an entire story in just six words. I don’t know that anyone knows the exact details of how that challenge came about, but the 6-word story attributed to him is the following: 

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Now, I’m issuing a challenge that is not quite as onerous as the one he met. And, in fact, it’s the same challenge I gave my college-level creative writing students this week: Write a complete story in only 25 words (or less if you prefer). You may choose the subject matter. 

You have one week to accomplish this task. Final post day, April 10 (although I have no objection to your posting a story at any time after that if you feel so inclined). When your story is complete, simply post it on your own blog, then copy and paste a link to it in the “Comments” section of this post.  Leave a comment too if you’d like.

Please be sure to include a link to this post on your own site as well, so that your readers can learn about the challenge and take part too.  And hop over during the week to check out the links to other writers’ stories.

Also, please remember that this site is open to readers of all ages, so it posts absolutely no “R” or “X” rated material. 

If you’re interested in participating but do not have a personal blog, feel free to post your story on your Facebook page or your LinkedIn page. (It’s short enough to go into the update window.) Then copy and paste the link in the “Comments” here.

When I write my own story, I’ll give it a separate post and paste a link here on this page with the rest of yours. 

Are you ready?  Let’s write!

 

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Friday Fictioneers – 3/14/14 – Bridge To Insanity

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Friday Fictioneers hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields will welcome you into the Friday Fictioneers group if you’d like to take your best shot at creating a 100-word story prompted by this picture. The photo is courtesy of Adam Ickes.

My story is below the photo.

LONG WOODEN BRIDGE - ADAM ICKES

BRIDGE TO INSANITY

“So, Mr. President, you’re having a recurring dream?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.  At least a dozen times this past year. I’m walking down a long, narrow, wooden bridge. Ahead I see the pavilion where a peace treaty signing is scheduled. I know they’re all there, waiting for me.  But I can’t get there!”

“Why not?”

“Because the damn bridge keeps growing longer with every step I take!”

“And you think the dream means something particular?”

“Of course.  And that’s what’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

“It means there’s never going to be an end to war.”

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Friday Fictioneers – 3/7/14 — You Can’t Go Home Again

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Well, another week has rolled around, and that means another Friday Fictioneers 100-word story challenge. This whole week, the number 1 has not worked on my computer keyboard. I have to take special pains to get it to type onto the page. So I got to thinking that perhaps I could use that as an excuse to say I’m going to have to do a 2 hundred word story instead – because my number 2 works just fine. However, I decided that even Rochelle, with her merciful attitude toward our rather liberal use of the term ‘100,’ would not be inclined to agree. So I bit the bullet and forced my keyboard to type the number 1 against its will.

This week’s prompt photo comes from Danny Bowman. However, due to the nature of my story, I needed to use a totally different photo at the story’s beginning. You will find Danny’s picture at the end, and the reasons will be self-explanatory.

To join the fun, visit Rochelle at her site:
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/03/05/7-march-2014/

 

YOU CAN’T GO HOME AGAIN

GREEN MOUNTAIN - greener
“What are you looking at, Kor?”

“Hmm?  Oh, this photograph of Kate’s homeland. She’s kept it over her bed these 12 years that she’s worked at the space station.”

“My, what serene beauty. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Yes, she grew up on that mountain, and her greatest delight is the thought of returning tomorrow.”

“But … what if …?”

“I know.  I reminded her that earth has experienced a decade of atomic warfare. Much of it is beyond repair”

“And …?”

“She insists her mountain will be unchanged … but I … I fear for her a broken heart.”

DANNY BOWMAN VOLCANO CRATER

 

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Joseph’s Decision — a short, short story

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

This story originally appeared on my blog last year, but only for a short time. I decided to enter it in a writing contest, and the rules of the contest required me to remove it from my public blog until the results were in. Now that the contest is over, I am posting the story anew. It did not find enough favor with the contest judges to be declared a winner, but no matter: it’s a winner to me.

RYAN AT COMPUTER - DARKENED

JOSEPH’S DECISION

Joseph sat on the bus, staring out the window, unseeing for the first twenty minutes. His mind just needed rest. So much data – so many words – such volatile emotions – too much to deal with right now. His eyes hurt from the glare of the sun, and he needed to close them for a while. Not yet, though. He couldn’t let himself – not so soon. He couldn’t bear to close himself up in his own private world – his own private hell. Not yet. He had to keep his eyes open so that light and color and motion would bombard his mind for at least a little while longer.

The knot in his chest had loosened some. Maybe that was due in part to the even rhythm of the moving bus and the almost imperceptible sound of the wheels against the hot pavement – things, no doubt, completely unnoticed by the majority of the passengers. But Joseph noticed. He seemed especially attuned to sounds and movement in a new way today. All of it seemed amplified somehow. He let out a deep sigh. I’m probably amplifying them in my own imagination, he thought, to keep my mind off the bitter news I just got.

Finally, thanks to the gentle rocking of the bus, he leaned his head against the back of the seat and let his eyelids drift shut. Another deep sigh. Okay, Joseph, it’s time to deal with it. You can do it, Joe.

He took a deep breath. There, that’s better. Another deep breath. That’s it, Joe. Slow and easy – in – and out – in – and out. See, you’re still alive and breathing. Nothing’s changed all that much.

His thoughts drifted back to Dr. Samuels’ office. He shivered slightly at the memory of how cold he’d felt sitting there on the examination table in just his undershirt and shorts. The sterile smell of the room still clung to his nostrils, and his mind replayed images of the signs on the walls describing various ailments and reminding doctors to wash their hands. He’d read every sign at least a dozen times over the past few years and knew them by heart, but he still read them every time. It was something to do while he waited for Dr. Samuels, and it kept his mind occupied so that he didn’t concentrate on how uncomfortable he always felt in doctors’ offices.

Prior to today’s appointment, he’d imagined numerous possible scenarios and played them over in his mind. Dr. Samuels might say this … and then I would say that … or … maybe he’ll tell me this, and I’ve already made up my mind what my answer will be to that. He closed his eyes a little tighter, stifling a low, mirthless chuckle. Funny – I never – not once – even considered a report like the one I got.

He felt something jostle his arm, so he opened his eyes, looking toward the empty seat on his left. A small, elderly lady had just sat down, and her purse had bumped his arm. “Oh, excuse me,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

He sat up a little straighter and gave his head a slight shake, hoping to clear it. He hadn’t even noticed the bus had stopped. He glanced out the window and realized they had already come half way to his destination. One more stop, and then he’d be at his own jumping off place. Home. It used to always give him a warm feeling to walk up the small concrete sidewalk, step up onto the little porch alcove with the rose trellis on either side, and open his front door to the cozy living room/office where he devoted hours to the work he loved so well.

Writing was his life – had been ever since his young adulthood. There had never been a marriage. He had hoped there would be a time or two, but it hadn’t worked out. And he wasn’t too sad about it. He had a good life – great friends – great audiences for his books – and a family of his own making. The characters that populated his best-selling novels had been born out of him, hadn’t they? And he loved them – everyone of them – even the villains. And many had been the days when he had rushed home, bursting through the front door with ideas literally pouring from his brain faster than he could get to the keyboard and turn them into words.

Well, Joe, it won’t be the same anymore. Everything’s changed now. He focused on the passing scene outside the window. He read a sign on one of the buildings. Then he read a street sign … and another. The bowling alley sign came next. He was seeing all of them for the zillionth time, but he read every word on every one. He had to keep himself from thinking anymore right now.

Finally the sign for his own stop came into view. As the driver made the announcement and slid the bus to a smooth stop, Joseph began to rise from his seat, but, suddenly, he realized his legs felt like lead. He sat back down momentarily, and the lady beside him looked concerned. “Are you all right, sir?”

He made a quick recovery and tried to smile at her. “Y – yes,” he answered. “I think my leg went to sleep. I’ll try to get up more slowly.”

He knew there was nothing wrong with his ability to walk. It was the result of the shock he’d had. The trauma of the news had been enough to shock a better man than he was. He focused all of his mental reserves on making his legs function normally, and finally managed to get up and move out into the aisle. From there, he moved by rote down the steps and through the door to the sidewalk.

As he started down the walk to the next block and his own house, he was amazed that everything around him looked exactly the same. The street looked the same. The traffic whizzed by as usual. The few people he passed looked normal. They spoke a word of greeting and smiled just as if he hadn’t changed at all. Yet his entire world had been wiped out with one simple sentence less than an hour ago.

The roses smelled the same as he stepped onto his porch and inserted his key in the lock. Stepping into the room, he let his eyes search out all the pieces of furniture and equipment that provided his comfortable, peaceful, productive life. He closed the door behind him and walked farther into the room. You’re home Joe. Really home … and it hasn’t changed a bit. It’s exactly the way you left it.

He started to genuinely relax for the first time since he’d stepped into Dr. Samuels’ office three hours ago. He pulled off his jacket, yanked his tie loose, and tossed it on the chair after the jacket. He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of his favorite juice, downing half of it in one drink. His stomach had been so knotted up when he’d left the doctor’s office that he hadn’t even tried to get lunch. In fact, he’d thought he could never eat or drink again. But he took another drink now. It felt really good going down. And, come to think of it, one of those frozen dinners he’d stocked up on yesterday sounded downright appetizing.

He kicked off his shoes, ambled over to the computer desk, and sat down. Touching the mouse, he focused on the screen. There it was: the new baby – novel number thirty-one – bright and shiny and full of life – staring right back at him from the screen with the familiar challenge that compelled him to create another chapter and another and another. Every word was a part of him – his offspring. Yes, this was life to him. This was all he needed.

Other thoughts tried to intrude, but he kept pushing them aside. Finally, at one point, he got up and walked to the wall on which he kept his main calendar. He stared at it. Dr. Samuels had said, “Six months at the outside. Maybe not that long. I’m indescribably sorry, Joe.”

Joseph reached up and ripped the calendar off the wall. He tore it in half and tossed in into the waste basket as he spoke out loud in response to the words of the medical report: “What is time, anyway, Doc? It’s all relative, isn’t it? Why, I’ve given hundreds of characters entire lifetimes in less than six months.”

He walked back to the computer and placed his hands on the keyboard again. “Sorry, Doc … I’ve got too many lives depending on me right here in this keyboard. I just don’t have time to die.”

~~~

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Friday Fictioneers — February 28 — Leap of Love

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

HAY BALES - SANDRA CROOK

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LEAP OF LOVE

“You’ve GOT to be kidding!”

“Shhhh, you’ll wake your parents.”

“Good. Then they’ll be awake to plan the funeral.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Annette. You knew we’d have to do something unconventional to sneak you out without their knowing. What’d you expect?”

“Fool that I am, I expected a ladder, of course!”

“Shhh!  All right!  Forget it. I should have eloped with Bernadette when she begged me.”

He climbed back over the balcony rail and jumped onto the hay-filled tractor bed.

He looked at her, his heart aflame in his eyes.

Her own heart leaped over the balcony, and she had no choice but to follow.

~~~

Photo by Sandra Crook

Friday Fictioneers Hostess: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Visit her site to find out how to take part in this 100-word story challenge.

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Velvet Verbosity #367 — Lunch with Xavier

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

I haven’t taken part in the Velvet Verbosity writing challenge previously, but I read Dawn Miller’s entries all the time, and it always sounds interesting, so this week I decided I should jump in as well. The prompt was the word “Lunch.” If you’d like to take part, you’ll find the host of the challenge and the rules at this link:
http://www.velvetverbosity.com/blog/2014/2/24/100-words-367-more-on-trains-and-writing

TABLE SETTING - PUB DOM - MUSEUM - LIGHTENED

LUNCH WITH XAVIER

Victoria had a lunch date – in a city where no one knew her. Sweating hands, butterflies – it was guilt. But why? After all, her husband Arnold had stopped making love to her, even stopped talking to her. She had to look for love and excitement elsewhere – like the Internet — and she’d used a fictitious name.

Excitement replaced fear now as she remembered that Xavier was the complete opposite of Arnold. Every word of his e-mails made her feel like a real woman again. Her heart pounded as she followed the maitre d’ to Xavier’s table for their initial meeting. Xavier stood and faced her:

“Victoria!”

“Arnold!!!”

 

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100-Word Challenge for Grownups – Week 120

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Well, I’m almost late with my story for this week’s challenge, and, to be honest, I’m a tad over the word limit, but I don’t have any more time to edit it further. So here’s my offering for Julia’s picture prompt.

Week#18

THE BUNDLE

At dusk, Marla went to retrieve her shoes from the window where she’d left them to dry after the storm. Glancing out, she saw an old woman exit the side of the building across the street. But that building had been abandoned for a year!

The woman, carrying a small, tight bundle, sneaked through the deserted street to the river’s edge. After looking around furtively, she heaved the bundle into the rushing water.

Barely able to see through the gathering gloom now, Marla glanced back at the building and saw an adolescent girl’s face in the window. The girl’s frightened eyes met Marla’s for a second before the girl ducked from view.

Marla tried not to understand what she had seen.

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Visit the host of the 100-Word Challenge:
http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/02/03/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week120/

 

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Friday Fictioneers — 1/31/14 — A Man of Value

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Friday Fictioneers is always such fun, and I’m so glad when I can manage to take part. This week’s prompt is a photo by Claire Fuller. You’ll find it below, followed by my 100-word story. (Actually my story is definitely over the limit on words, but it relates an example of true events that are taking place on a regular basis with prisoners from a maximum security prison close to my hometown. I learned about these projects a few years ago and the difference they are making in the rehabilitation of prisoners — as well as in the lives of the people served by the end results. This week’s photo brought the projects to mind, and it’s worth sharing the concept even though it takes a few more words than is technically “legal.”)

CARPENTRY SHOP

A MAN OF VALUE

Eddie couldn’t hold back the tears as he stood at the building site, his hand gripped by Tony, an ox of a guy with tears in his own eyes as he thanked Ed for his part in the project. Tony and his family had lost everything and had no place to live. But today they’d received the key to a brand new home.

Eddie, serving the 7th of his 25-year sentence, had worked in the carpentry rehabilitation unit for three years now, making prefab elements for these low-income housing projects. Getting permission to be present at the site for the presentation was a dream come true.

He’d considered himself scum for most of his life, but today – wiping tears away with his shirt sleeve – he began to see himself as a valuable human being with something worth giving to life. Dang, if he wasn’t actually looking forward to the next 18 years of helping create a better life for a lot of people.

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Visit our hostess, Rochelle, and get the scoop on how to participate:
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/01/29/31-january-2014/

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100-Word Challenge for Grownups – Week 119 – Carried on a Song

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

It’s nice to be able to participate again this week in Julia’s 100-word story challenge. It’s been a while since I got a chance to take part, so I’ve enjoyed this time around, and I hope the rest of you are enjoying coming up with your own stories as well. Here’s my offering:

CARRIED ON A SONG


MUSICAL NOTES & SHADOW - SEPIAI heard the song today. As I walked through Hilliard’s department store, a customer opened a jewelry box, and the melody tinkled across the room. My breath caught in my chest. Tears sprang to my eyes. But my heart smiled. Whenever I hear it, I think of you.

Roger loves me, and our boys are treasures I’d never part with, but my heart still aches for you. Fate may have decreed us bitter enemies in this horrible war between our nations, but as long as I live, my love will seek and find you in the strains of that song.

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To get the scoop on how to participate, visit Julia here:
http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/01/27/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week119/#comment-18155

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Friday Fictioneers – 1/10/14 — Free

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Yay! I get to take part this week. Our photo comes from fellow writer Dawn Q. Landau. My story is below.

PINK BUILDING ON THE SEA - FF

FREE

Nick jerked awake in the prison’s isolation cell when the earth began to shake violently. An eerie light suffused the night sky outside the high window, explaining the situation well enough:  Mt. Hideki had erupted.

Suddenly the concrete prison complex began to shift and groan, and before he could think how to protect himself, the entire building began to slide down the ridge toward the sea. Momentum from the slide increased pressure, and as it reached the beach, the building broke apart completely. He felt his own cell block stop suddenly, but heard an ear-splitting roar as the remainder of the prison rushed into the angry sea.

He was free.

~~~

Visit our hostess, Rochelle, to find out how you can take part in the fun.
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/01/08/10-january-2013/

 

 

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Taming the Dragon of Calvert Kingdom

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

As part of my Christmas presents to my great niece and three great nephews, I wrote a story about all four of them and their brave adventure of taming a ‘fearful’ dragon. They all love to read and would often rather receive books than any other kind of gift. A story in which they personally were the heroes and heroine was an unexpected treat for them, and on each of their individual copies, I put that child’s picture on the front cover as the featured character.

After giving them their books, I decided I might as well share the story on my blog. There might be other families out there with children who love stories about dragons who breathe out fire, but who cry because they have no friends, and who can be tamed by cookies, a song, and lots and lots of love.
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TAMING THE DRAGON OF CALVERT KINGDOM

DRAGON FOR BLOG STORYIn the year 2013, in a kingdom called Calvert, there lived four cousins. They were all named Calvert, and it was their great-grandparents Rachel and Cecil Calvert who had established this kingdom many years before. The four cousins felt it was their job to help keep the kingdom safe and to care for all of the inhabitants.

The three young men had become knights: Sir Gideon was the eldest; Sir Josiah was next. They were brothers, and they had one sister, Lady Lucy. She was very pretty, with her strawberry blond hair, and all the young knights thought she was the fairest maiden in the whole kingdom of Calvert. Sir Gideon, Sir Josiah, and Lady Lucy all lived together at Carterville Castle.

Their cousin, Sir Jasper, lived very near them, at his home, St. Louis Castle, and he visited them often.

One day they all gathered at Carterville Castle. There they sat around a big fireplace, drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and discussing a very serious problem. A huge, fire-breathing dragon had been roaming through the kingdom, scaring all the inhabitants and stealing many of the children’s pets. It made them very unhappy.

He also pounded his way through the kingdom, shaking the earth beneath him because he was very, very heavy. And he had a long tail so powerful that every time he moved it, it tore down some trees or demolished some buildings.

dragon head & flame - scannedAnd that’s not all. He also went around breathing out huge flames that burned up all the grass and flowers. So he made the inhabitants very afraid.

At first, he came out only a couple times a year, and that wasn’t quite so bad. But the past two years, he had been coming out more often, and now he came stomping through the kingdom every few weeks. It had gotten so bad that Sir Gideon had called the meeting with his brother and sister and cousin to decide what must be done.

They had talked for over an hour, and still hadn’t made any decisions, so Sir Jasper said, “Well, cousin Gideon, I think, since you are the eldest, we should do whatever you believe is best. Do the rest of you agree?”

Sir Josiah and Lady Lucy nodded their heads in agreement, and Sir Josiah asked.

“Well, Brother Gideon, what say you?”

“Hmmm. I believe the most important thing to do first is for all of us to pray together for the Lord’s wisdom. After all, He knows every animal in this world, and He knows why the dragon is so mean and vicious. He also knows if it has any weaknesses that we can take advantage of.”

“Oh, that’s a very good idea!” said Lady Lucy.

“Then let’s all hold hands,” said Sir Gideon, “and pray for the Lord’s wisdom and help.”

So they did. In a few minutes, while they were all quiet and listening for an answer, Sir Josiah spoke.

“I believe we should try to make friends with the dragon.”

“Oh my!” said Lady Lucy. “I don’t know if I’d want to get close enough to him to try to be his friend.”

“It would be nice if it could happen,” Sir Jasper said, “but I have to admit I’m very skeptical.”

“Well, you know,” Sir Gideon said, “God tells us in the Bible to love our enemies and try to be good to them. So Josiah’s suggestion does sound like it agrees with the Bible. Maybe we should try.”

“But how?” asked Sir Jasper. He always wanted things laid out in exact detail before he made a decision. “We need to have a good, solid plan.”

“Yes, I agree,” said Sir Gideon. “How shall we go about this?”

Sir Josiah answered. “I think we should all go together up the mountain to his cave, and I think we should take him some cookies — chocolate chip. We can put them down outside his cave and invite him to come out and eat them while we talk to him.”

“And,” said Lady Lucy, feeling a little braver now, “I think we should sing a song as we go so that he knows we are not coming to do him harm.”

“What song can we sing?”

“Josiah,” said Sir Jasper, “you’re the one in the family who loves music best. Can you write us a song?”

“I’ll try,” said Sir Josiah. “I’ll go to my room and think about it.”

“And if you write one, then I will take my guitar and accompany you,” Sir Jasper said.

“Okay,” said Sir Gideon. “Let’s all meet back here in one hour, and if Josiah has a song, we’ll decide what to do next.”

They all agreed and went their separate ways. Sir Josiah sat at the window in his room and thought and thought. He asked himself, “What kind of song would a dragon like to hear?” He had always secretly loved dragons and had wished that he could have one for a pet. He’d like to be friends with a dragon. His next thought was, “Why not write a song about what’s in my own heart?” And suddenly the words came to him.

“Oh I wish I had a friend who was a dragon.
That’s the kind of pet I’d like one of,
And if I had a friend who was a dragon,
I’d play with him and give him lots of love.

He’d never have to breathe out fire or be mean
Because we’d laugh and play and have such fun,
And every night he’d sleep beside my own bed
And have sweet dreams when every day was done.”

So one hour later, when the three brave knights and Lady Lucy met, Josiah sang them his song. They all liked it very much, so they decided that very early the next morning – before anyone else in the kingdom was up and about – they would travel up the mountain to the dragon’s cave.

Just as the first little ray of light peaked over the horizon, Sir Gideon, Sir Josiah, Sir Jasper, and Lady Lucy gathered at the edge of the woods by Carterville Castle. Sir Gideon and Sir Josiah had decided not to wear their armor because they did not want to threaten the dragon.

However, Sir Jasper said that he thought at least one of them should be dressed and ready for battle if it turned out to be necessary. So he wore his full armor, but he kept his sword in its sheath, and he opened his faceplate so that the dragon could see that he had a kind face. And all three knights insisted that Lady Lucy stay behind them the whole time so that she would be in less danger.

They started singing their song at the foot of the mountain, and they sang all the way up. They were very brave indeed. When they got to the place where they could see the entrance to the cave, they heard a terrible sound. It even shook the ground.

“RRROOOOAAAARRR!!!”

And they saw puffs of smoke coming from the cave. They stopped singing. They felt butterflies in their stomach, but they were too strong-hearted to let fear keep them from doing what was right. So after about a minute, they started singing and walking forward again.

“RRROOOOAAAARRR!!!”

They heard the terrible sound again.

But as they drew closer to the cave entrance, they heard another sound between the roars. It sounded like crying.

“BooHooooHoooo! Sniff! Sniff! BooHooooHoooo! Sniff!”

DRAGON - HEAD - MINE with tears EDITEDThey stopped again. “Why, he’s crying!” exclaimed Lady Lucy. “The poor dragon is crying!”

“Well,” said Sir Jasper, “This is very unexpected!”

“Very interesting though,” said Sir Gideon, thinking about what this new evidence indicated about their situation. Sir Gideon had a very methodical way of interpreting things, and he was beginning to put two and two together quickly now.

“Think about it. This dragon goes all around the kingdom breathing fire, scaring the people and other animals, but he sits at home and cries. The two behaviors must be connected.”

“That could explain it,” said Sir Jasper. “He is very unhappy, and that makes him treat others very badly.”

“Exactly,” said Sir Gideon.

“Well, I feel so sorry for him,” said Lady Lucy. “We should go in and tell him we want to be his friends.”

“We can’t just go barging in, sister dear,” said Sir Gideon.

“I think I should go stand by the door and sing to him again,” said Sir Josiah.

“Very well, but be careful,” answered his brother.

So, quietly and gently, Sir Josiah moved up very close to the opening of the cave and began to sing in his clear sweet voice, while Sir Jasper accompanied him on the guitar.

Pretty soon, they heard another big sniff from inside the cave and then they heard the dragon say, “Huh? Who’s there?”

Sir Josiah, whose knees were shaking a little, just kept singing the words of the song, and finally, the dragon eased his head around the edge of the opening to see what was going on. His eyes got great big, and his mouth fell open. When it did, a great puff of smoke came out and blew right onto Sir Josiah.

Sir Jasper put his hand on his sword. He wanted to be ready to defend his cousin if this was an attack. But when there was no more action from the dragon, he relaxed a little.

Sir Josiah had finished his song by now, and he grinned at the dragon.

“Who are you?” the dragon said, and as he spoke another great puff of smoke rolled out onto Josiah. Sir Jasper stepped up beside his cousin. That movement caused the dragon to growl, but Sir Josiah spoke up and said, “Hello, I’m Sir Josiah Calvert, and these other people are my family. We came to bring you some cookies and tell you we want to be your friends.”

The dragon’s eyes just got bigger.

Lady Lucy had been carrying the cookies, and she stepped forward now. Sir Gideon started to reach out his hand to stop her, but he decided that maybe she was the best one, after all, to set the cookies before the dragon.

“Here you are. I baked them myself.”

The dragon blinked. Then a huge tear bubbled out of his eye, ran down his long nose, and dropped to the ground. “Sniff! Sniff!” was all the sound he made.

“Were you crying?” asked Sir Gideon, wanting to get to the bottom of this mystery.

The dragon didn’t look up at him, but just nodded his head to say yes.

“But why?” asked Lady Lucy, stepping a little closer to him. She felt sorry for this poor dragon, and that kept her from being afraid.

The dragon sniffed again very loudly and said, “Because I don’t have any friends at all.” Then he sniffed again, as one more tear rolled down his nose.

Lady Lucy took a soft white handkerchief from her pocket and gently patted the end of his nose. “Is that why you took all the children’s pets?” she asked. “So you could have some company?”

Sniff. “Yes … but it’s no fun when I have to make them stay with me.”

Sir Gideon spoke up then. “Well, of course it isn’t, you goofball. You have to be a real friend to others if you want them to be your friend. And stealing those pets and bringing them here when they don’t want to be here is not being friendly.”

“But we’d like to be your friends,” Lady Lucy said.

The dragon looked from one to the other. “You would?” They nodded. “All of you?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” replied Sir Gideon. “All of us.”

“Even him?” the dragon asked, looking a little harder at Sir Jasper, who still had his hand on his sword.

Sir Jasper dropped his hand to his side and said,“Yes, I want to be your friend too, but you have to understand that people can’t be your friend if you keep stomping through the land stealing pets and breathing out fire, and roaring at people to make them afraid.”

“Well … I guess I did that because I was so unhappy.” the dragon said. Then he turned to Sir Josiah. “I really liked your song.”

Sir Josiah beamed. “Thank you, Mr. Dragon. Do you have a name?”

The dragon nodded. “I have one, but you’ll laugh at me if I tell you what it is.”

“No we won’t,” said Lady Lucy. “Please tell us. We’ll tell you our names first. I’m Lady Lucy Calvert. You’ve already met my brother Sir Josiah, and this is my other brother Sir Gideon and our cousin Sir Jasper. Now will you tell us your name?”

“Well … it’s ….” He sighed. “My name is Throgmorton,” he said in a whisper and hung his head.

“Why, I think that’s a very grand name!” Lady Lucy said.

Sir Gideon had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing, but he was willing to do that because he did not want to make this poor dragon more unhappy.

Sir Josiah spoke up then. “That sounds like a very good dragon name to me. How would you like to be my pet, Throgmorton?”

DRAGON - HEAD - MINE - smileThrogmorton’s eyes grew large again, but this time he smiled. “I think I’d like that very much!” he said.

“Then you have to promise never to scare people or steal pets or breath out fire ever again,” said Sir Josiah. “I can’t have a pet that hurts people.”

“Oh, if I can be your pet, and you will be my friends, I would never want to hurt anyone again! So I promise! And I will take all of the children’s pets back to their homes.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” said Lady Lucy.

“Won’t you all have a cookie with me?” the dragon asked. “And then maybe we could sing the song again.”

So they ate cookies until the plate was empty, and then Throgmorton walked with them back down the mountain. He was very careful with his tail so that it didn’t tear down any trees, and he made sure that when he breathed, he didn’t let out any flames. The three brave knights and Lady Lucy went with Throgmorton to take every pet back to its real owner, and the children of the kingdom were happy again.

Then all four cousins took the dragon back to Carterville Castle, and Sir Gideon’s father, who liked to build things, made Throgmorton a big house right by the back door. Of course, Sir Josiah let him in at night so that he could sleep beside the bed – just like in the song.

And all throughout Calvert Kingdom, there was peace again. No one was afraid to go out with their pets anymore, and the inhabitants never heard the terrible roar of the fearful dragon again.

Instead, all they heard were the happy voices of Sir Gideon, Sir Josiah, Sir Jasper, Lady Lucy, and Throgmorton singing their friendship song. And, of course, as in the end of every great story, they all lived happily ever after.  

DRAGON TAIL - THE END

© 2013 Sandra Conner

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