Jesse James and the Dragon's Egg

Heartbreak and Red Hair

Jesse held his friend and sobbed.

He can't be gone! He can't go! He can't die!

He took great lungfuls of the old dog's scent. He buried a tear-stained face in the oily black coat. Jesse held on to him, squeezing as tightly as he could, but it's no use. Bear was gone.

His mother eased her embrace on him and he gently laid his friend's head on the ground.

Tears still streamed as he got to his feet, slipping her embrace.

He walked.

She called after him, but he walked on.

Jesse walked out of the yard and onto the street. He walked blindly, following each one step with another. His walk fell into a jog. Calling after him, his mother's voice faded into the day and the jog turned into a run.

He ran hard. Across yards and through streets. Past people and pets, friends and gawking strangers. He ran until his chest was in agony, ragged breath burning his lungs. He ran until great heaving breaths took the place of great heaving sobs. He ran as fast and as hard and as far as he has ever run before. He ran until his eyes cloud and stars creep into his vision; he ran until he reached the lake.

~

Lake Iamonia was a temperamental lake. Depending on its mood, it might be a beautiful lake or it might be a serene, marshy, wetland or it might be some strange combination of the two. Regardless of its condition, it was always a favorite gathering place for the young people in the area. This year, despite the heat and lack of rain, the lake aspect had maintained its footing.

Jesse, lungs burning and legs crying out for rest, jogged up to the landing.

This is not the best idea.

He gazed out across the lake, and there were people everywhere. In search of solitude, he found an old oak. Having nearly succumbed to storms and the lake, it rested on its side, in the shade and behind a thicket of boxwood and wax myrtle. Jesse worked his way into the underbrush and sat down in the shade on the old trunk. Safe and alone.

"Hi." Bright, cheerful and uniquely girlish, the greeting came from behind him and Jesse's heart and stomach both threatened to leave the boy's body at once. In the best of times, he was not good with girls and this was not the best of times.

She was slender, athletic and about his age, with a mane of wild, flaming red hair and pale white skin.

"Hey." He said, trying to steady his voice and ignore his racing heart.

"You okay?" She leaned against the trunk as she spoke, resting her weight on her hands and rocking gently. Her eyes were so brown they were almost black.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." Jesse hoped to end this conversation, acutely aware that his palms were sweating.

"Oh. okay."

Maybe, if he didn't respond to her, she would just go away and then he could regret not talking to her later when he had the courage to do so.

"Well, I'm Kathryn, but everybody calls me Kate."

"I'm Jesse." The answer was automatic, pulled from his lips before he knew he was going to speak.

"I know. I've seen you around. You live around here?"

"Yeah, I live in the Glen." This may be easier than he imagined. The boy was still shivering on the inside, but he found he was calming. He even looked at her when he spoke.

"Really? I live off Cobb." She had a little dusting of freckles that ran across the bridge of her nose and settled on both cheeks. It made him think of cinnamon on toast. "We're practically right next door."

"I guess." Nice one, dork.

"Are you sure you're okay? Cause if I'm like bothering you or something," she trailed off.

"No, It's fine, It's not that. I just..." A fresh reminder of the day's events stabbed him in the stomach. Tears welled and rested on his eyelashes. "My dog just died and I guess I'm a little..." He choked, not even sure what he had just said. The world was spinning again, and he was having to breathe around a lump in his throat.

"Oh, God, Jesse." She climbed over the trunk and sat down next to him. A slender hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I am so sorry."

He took a deep breath. That hand was a small revelation. Through it, his breathing steadied, and the world slowed its spin. "It's okay." He said, offering her a small smile. He wanted to be brave here. He needed to be tough. "I guess he was kind of old anyway. I had him ever since I was little. My dad..." Tough failed. "I don't know. I just..." Brave left. "I just..." and Jesse was empty again, empty and alone. He squinted at the ground. The lump in his throat returned and the burning tears came again.

She put her arm around his shoulders. "Jesse, I am so sorry."

He wasn't crying; he wasn't. But he couldn't stop the tears and they rolled down his cheeks. He mustered his voice long enough to say, "It's okay."

They sat there in silence for a time, she with her arm resting on his shoulders and him grieving and not daring to move. They watched the boaters on the lake and listened to the sounds of people having fun.

"Are you going to have a funeral?" She said brightly and abruptly, pulling her arm away.

"What?"

"Are you going to have a funeral? I mean, you are going to bury him, right?"

"Well, I mean yeah, I guess so."Jesse wiped at his cheeks, unsure how to react.

"Then you should have a funeral. He was your friend, right?"

"Well, yeah, but can you have a funeral for a dog?"

"Sure. I had one for my hamster when he died and I didn't even really like him. I was mostly just glad he was gone."

It surprised Jesse to hear himself laugh.

"Can I come?" She asked.

"What? To the funeral?"

"Yeah."

"Well, yeah. I guess."

~

The suggestion surprised Jesse's mother, but they had the funeral. He spent the evening with Kate, Jake, and his mom. Sarah kept a close eye on Kate. She knew her parents tangentially, but she knew little of the girl. There was, however, something familiar about her.

Jesse dug Bear's grave in a little spot in the trees behind the house. Jesse didn't cry, but Kate did. She placed a small bouquet on the earth and so did Jake. He ran to his big brother at one point and hugged him.

That night, though, Jesse did cry, and he dreamed.

In his dream, he was in King's field again, chasing after Bear, running into the barn. Inside, Jesse followed Bear. Nose to the ground, the old dog lead him through the central corridor and in and out of different rooms and stalls. He finally came to rest at the back of the old barn.

Bear turned and faced his boy. He sat on his haunches, tongue out. He smiled broadly and wagged his tail. Jesse knelt in front of his old friend. He hugged him and buried his face as deeply as he could in Bear's furry hide. The old dog pushed his forehead into his boy's face, rubbing his once again cold, wet nose against Jesse's cheek.

"It's going to be okay, Bear." Jesse was crying so hard it was hard for him to get breath, hard for him to see. He realized it was not his tears making it hard to see, the whole scene was fading. He held Bear even tighter. "Please don't go," he heard himself say, but it was too late. The old dog was already fading.

"Come back here Jesse. Find him. Save him." Bear said to him through the haze. "Goodbye, my friend. I love you, and I will miss you."

Then he was gone.