Josh dreams of dragons.
He thinks it's just a welcome escape from everyday life. Until one morning, he wakes up with scales, wings, and a tail.
Josh faces a harsh new reality: he has become something that shouldn't exist outside the pages of his fan...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Wes didn't bother coming all the way out to the shed to get me when it was time for lunch. Instead, he just shouted from the back door. I stood up and walked back into the house (still wanting to be seen on two legs) where I saw plates of sandwiches on the table. My plate had four, each one piled high with meat and laid out neatly in two halves. My stomach growled as I sat down next to Wes again.
Something on the floor brushed the end of my tail, and I looked back to see a small, white creature batting at it experimentally. I thought it must be Wes's cat, Winter. She crouched low, eyeing the appendage warily. I gave the tip a little flick, and she immediately bolted with a surprised yowl. As the white blur vanished, I gave Wes a mischievous grin.
"Well, I dunno what she thinks about you now," he giggled. "But, I'm sure she'll like you before too long."
Jackie sat down just then and told us to dig in. I thanked her again for all the food, and the words were scarcely out of my mouth before I crammed a half-sandwich in and swallowed it in a single bite. Wes shared a look with his mom, and I felt guilty enough to slow down. When I wasn't nibbling at my sandwiches, I made sure to tell them that I set up a call with my family the next day, and we agreed that I should just take it at the kitchen table. They would give me the room to myself when the time came. After we had eaten, I felt a bit drowsy and sat on the floor of the living room. My head nestled in its usual place next to my tail and I quickly fell asleep on the carpet.
When I woke up, I heard a scratching sound coming from across the room. Jackie sat on the couch, glancing at me intermittently over the top of a notebook while a pencil moved deftly in her hand. A sliver of tongue peeked out of her mouth as she worked on her sketch. I realized she was drawing me.
"I hope you don't mind." She kept on sketching as her darting eyes caught my waking movements. "You looked so peaceful. Not to mention that I never dreamed I would have a dragon in the same room as me. As an artist, I can't pass these things up, you know."
I yawned and put my head back down. "Not at all," I responded. "I hope I'm not messing you up. And I can relate—I like to think I'm a bit of an artist as well. But, I haven't really done much of that since I...you know..."
"Wes is taking a nap too," she said, filling the silence I had left, "so I had some down time. If you like, I could show you my studio. It's nothing fancy, but another artist like yourself might be interested."
"Really? I'd love that." I sat up on the floor, feeling a little lightheaded as I raised myself on my front legs.
"Sure," she said, carefully closing her sketchbook. "Follow me."
I kept close behind her as she led me to the other side of the house I had not yet seen. We walked past a closed door that I figured was Wes's room. There were colorful drawings of his creation taped all over it, containing all manner of superheroes, cartoon animals, and other abstract scribbles. At the end of the hall, Jackie stopped and pushed open another door to reveal her studio. "This is my humble office," she joked.
A large window on the side wall cast the only light into the room. Multiple easels were erected in the confined space, each one with a canvas in some intermediate stage of completion. Bookshelves and small tables were overflowing with supplies. Palettes and brushes were strewn about on almost every flat surface. Finished pieces were leaning against the walls; some stacks had a half-dozen paintings. I had to keep careful watch of my tail and wings as I stepped inside so I didn't knock anything over in the small room.
"I like this one," I said, pointing with a claw at an easel supporting an almost-finished canvas. The painting was of a forest clearing. Standing in the center of it was an unusual animal. It was a large bear, but not one I had seen before. This one had a coat of creamy, white fur. Other than that, it looked perfectly ordinary, but the color made it stand out like some outsider that did not fit with the surroundings. I couldn't stop looking at it.
"Ah, yes," Jackie said knowingly. "This is quite an amazing creature. The native people in this province have many stories about this bear. The 'spirit bear,' they call it. It's a unique species where one in ten of these bears is born white. They are only found in certain forests north of here, really a rare sight. It's said that seeing one is meant to remind you of things from the past."
I rubbed the side of my head with a forepaw, still staring at the bear, whose ivory-white fur was textured with meticulous brush strokes. "You like keeping the past alive in your art? Letting those stories you heard as a child live on?"
"Yes, exactly," she replied. "I...feel like it's my purpose."
"I think you're lucky to have found a purpose. I mean, that's what we're all trying to do, right?"
"Hmm. It sounds cliché, but as much as I give to my work, it gives me back even more. Art has really saved my life. When my ex-husband and I finally got divorced, I should have been happy to finally be free from him, but I wasn't. I was lost. I sank into a very deep depression; I look back now, and I know I was close to the end. All I had was my art and my child. And that was enough to keep me from slipping away.
She pensively regarded one of her paintings, a half-finished rendering of a coal-black raven in flight. One arm hugged the sketchbook close to her chest. Her other hand hovered over the surface of the canvas, lightly brushing the bold ridges of paint with her fingertips, tracing the movement of the bird's feathers. "I still get lost sometimes. The depression comes back to visit me again. I've stayed in bed for days, and Wes—that's the hardest thing about this—he's had to be the adult. But if I can get myself back in here, then I always start feeling alive again, feeling like there's a purpose to my life. That's how I keep going."
The serene, blue eyes met my own once again. "I think you've got a purpose too, even if you haven't found it yet. Maybe your purpose is to help people. Like you did for me and for Wes. Maybe you're like that bear, Josh. Different, a little mysterious, but still very much part of this world. People say that meeting the spirit bear can be life-changing. I think I can say that about meeting you, too."
"I need to ask you something." I didn't know why I felt so comfortable around her. Maybe it was the way she was talking to me just like I was any other person. She may have been telling me I was different, but she really seemed not to care. "After last night—after the violence and the things that I did—do you even think of me as a human? Are you afraid of me at all, like I'm too different or unstable or something? I just need you to tell me the truth."
She looked at me for a long time, her eyes searching mine. Then, she held out both hands and placed them gently on my shoulders. "These things aren't black and white. Human and non-human. What we see are qualities. You showed bravery and loyalty through your actions. Bravery and loyalty can apply to humans, of course, but they can also describe a dog or any other creature. It's your qualities that matter, Josh. I can't tell you that you're a human, but I can say that I want you in my life much more than my very human ex-husband. I know Wes would feel the same way."
If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a vote or comment to tell me your thoughts! I really appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you for reading!
