Dragon’s Head Village: Crispin and Arsenic part 1

Crispin came to a smooth landing on the bluff that Norman first spoke to Buttercup all those years ago.  He waited patiently for Arsenic to climb down before he spoke.

Arsenic scampered off Crispin like his wings were on fire.  Flying on the back of a dragon, even one as small as Crispin, was much different than flying around under your own power and at an altitude of your choosing.

“Was it absolutely necessary to fly so high or so fast?”  Arsenic whined mostly to himself as his feet finally came into contact with the ground.

Crispin’s head snapped and he glared at Arsenic, “Complaining within ear shot of a dragon is never wise.”

Arsenic just laughed, he laughed so hard he fell flat on his rear end, clutching his stomach as he rolled around on the ground laughing.

Crispin was at first shocked that he was being so openly mocked and then he was furious.  He drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest and stood over Arsenic.  This just made Arsenic laugh even harder, Crispin didn’t think that was possible but sure enough Arsenic was now snorting as he laughed at the big, bad kitty dragon standing over him.

Crispin’s anger fled and feeling deflated he abruptly sat down.  He was stumped, the flower fairy was completely and utterly unafraid of him.  How was that possible?  He was a dragon, he could breathe fire when necessary.  He wasn’t some soft and cuddly kitten curled up next to the fire waiting for the next saucer of milk to be delivered.  So, how was it possible that the wee flower fairy in front of him did not fear him in the slightest?

Crispin had no choice, he had to wait until Arsenic regained control of his senses and stopped laughing at him.  It took a full five minutes, which were the longest five minutes of his life, until Arsenic had stopped laughing.  The air surrounding the two was alive, electric with the anticipated conversation between the fearsome dragon and the failed flower fairy.

“Alright spill it Arsenic, what do you know and why are you laughing at me?” Crispin was genuinely curious and his normal grumble was absent.

“The great and fearsome Crispin,” Arsenic’s tone of mocking.  “I’ve seen you stalking about the village at night when you think everyone is tucked up and sound asleep for the night.  But I know what you really do when you aren’t trying to protect your reputation.”

Crispin looked momentarily startled but he quickly masked his emotions and the grumbled, “What are you going on about?  I am as fearsome as my reputation.  Make no mistake, I am all dragon.”

Arsenic smirked at Crispin, “Is that why you sneak out of Zovah’s front door every night and proceed to do good deeds every night?”

Crispin’s face momentarily dissolved into shock but he quickly gained control over his emotions.  He threatened to swipe his paw in Arsenic’s direction, “Blasted flower fairy of death didn’t so much as flinch” he thought to himself.  Out loud he said, “What exactly is it that you think you’ve seen me do at night?”

Arsenic stared up at the dragon grumbling in front of him, unphased by the grumbling or the threatened paw swipes.  “Where you like me to begin?  The village square, the gardens around the village, or the elderly?”

Crispin stared at him, the shock on his face very apparent.  “How could you possibly know about any of those things?”  HIs voice wasn’t grumbly any more, it was embarrassed.

Arsenic fluttered up, his wings barely disturbing the air around him.  When he was eye level with Crispin he whispered, “Well, I may be the worst flower fairy ever but it doesn’t mean I don’t love my village.”

 

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Jane and the Journals, part 4

Gordie pulled into the driveway and saw his two old friends sitting on their front porch the picture of domestic bliss. He envied them. He had yet to find anyone he loved enough to pull him away from books for any length of time. Fred’s head bent low to hear something Jane was saying. Gordie watched them, as always marveling at the ease that develops between long time partners, knowing that he wanted that same ease and deep friendship when he finally found that one special woman.

Getting out of the late model sports car, Gordie strolled toward his friends, greeting them as he went. “Afternoon lovebirds!”

Jane laughed and waved to him. “Afternoon Gordie, thanks for coming on such short notice. I really appreciate it.”

“That’s what old friends are for aren’t they? Besides, you gave me the perfect opportunity to skip out of afternoon classes and meetings. Sometimes, I regret becoming Dean. It is far more politics and competition than I think I have the patience for.”

Fred laughed, a deep belly laugh. “Gordon Albert Fellstone that is the biggest load of bull I’ve heard you utter since we were nine and you claimed to have kissed Sally Jefferson at the creek.”

Gordie joined the laughter, “yeah ok so I love it. I have never had so much fun at work. So, I hear all the noise which I can only assume are the workmen you told me about at lunch yesterday Fred but Jane I’ll admit I’m very intrigued about the journals you called me about yesterday.”

“I really do appreciate you dropping everything today. Let me get you a glass of iced tea and I’ll meet you in my office.” Jane said as she got out of her chair.

Fred watched as Jane disappeared into the house, Gordie watched Fred’s appreciative face as Jane disappeared from view. “Gordie I am still in love with her after all these years and bud, someday you will find someone as amazing. Now, go find my wife while I change into more comfortable clothes and I’ll join you in the office.”

Jane made a pitcher of iced tea and grabbing three glasses, headed for her office. Gordie walked in just as Jane finished pouring two glasses, handing one to him she said, “Welcome to contained chaos Perkin style.” There was laughter and a hint of frustration in her voice.

Gordie was just starting at the piles on the floor. The general chaos of Jane’s office he ignored, used to that level of chaos in Jane’s writing area. The piles however were of great interest to him and he quickly looked around for a place to sit down. Finding none, he carefully scooped up a stack from the floor and headed for the dining room completely oblivious to Jane’s cry of dismay.

He set the stack of journals on the table and quickly seated himself. His six foot six frame and broad build dwarfing the chairs on either side of him. Jane followed him into the dining room. “What are you doing? I had those all arranged and sorted. Just march yourself back there and return them to their spot in my office.” Her tone was irritated and frustrated.

“Jane Allison Perkin you called me to help you so sit down, shut up, and let me help you.” He never even glanced up at her as he carefully opened the journal at the top of the pile.

7 April 1824

Today I was lucky enough to attend the first performance with my Mistress of Missa solemnis by a composer named Beethoven. It was beautiful and awe inspiring.

Gordie set the journal aside and opened the next one in the stack. Jane just watched from the doorway, silently sipping her tea.

August 14^th 1900

I woke up this morning on my second day in Peking. I am still worn out from the long journey but I awoke this morning energized and ready to explore my new surroundings. Then I heard the sounds of many, many boots slamming the streets at once quickly followed by the sounds of weapon fire. I grabbed my Bible and books and dove under the bed. I’m flat out scared but I figured if I was going to die in a foreign land there would be some record of my last moments.

“Jane, do you have any idea the treasure trove of information contained in just these first two exemplars?” The awe and reverence in Gordie’s voice was staggering. “A firsthand account from a non-noble of the first performance of Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis and an accounting of the Boxer Rebellion of a tourist civilian.”

Fred walked in and caught the last statement and whistled. “We knew Aunt Liza had left us invaluable journals but that seems too good to be true.”

“So, how do we preserve them? I want to be able to use them for my books but I also know we need to preserve these glimpses of history for future generations.” Jane’s voice was a mixture of frustration and awe.

 

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Dragon’s Head Village: Crispin meets Hermonia part 4

Hermonia was confused and her face screwed up in concentration. Crispin was clearly upset and so was the fairy Arsenic but she didn’t understand why. So, in an attempt to make peace, Hermonia scooped up Crispin in her arms and went running off toward the back door of Rachel and Roland’s back door.

Crispin was so startle by the abrupt change that he was speechless, that is until he heard the riotous, raucous laughter of Arsenic from behind him. The laughter was loud and grating and sent Crispin over the edge. He quickly became a snarling, angry ball of white fur intent on escaping the arms of Hermonia. Hermonia was oblivious to Crispin’s anger or Arsenic’s mocking laughter, for despite Crispin’s intense anger he had yet to scratch or harm Hermonia. His struggle to escape was little more than a non-dragon cat put up when trying to escape the loving grasp of a three-year old captor.

“I have to set you down now Crispin so that you can come inside and meet Grammy and Grandaddy.” Hermonia said as she carefully set Crispin down on the grass. She was attempting to jump up to open the back door and didn’t see the white streak as Crispin launched himself at Arsenic.

Hermonia got the door open and promptly turned around to gather Crispin in her arms once more. He wasn’t where she left him and it broke her heart. She immediately burst into sobs, so loud that they sounded like thunder to the fairies still transfixed by the Crispin and Arsenic affair, Hermonia sobbed and fairies watched, Crispin and Arsenic circled one another like prized fighters waiting for the bell to be rung.

Crispin’s voice was low and grumbly, “You will keep your alleged knowledge to yourself if you know what is good for you.” The words were spat out with such force that there was no doubt of the implied threat behind the words.

Arsenic laughed, although he did move away ever so slightly from Crispin. “What will the big bad dragon kitty do to me?”

There was a collective gasp from the fairies. Their horror at Arsenic’s taunt to Crispin was palpable. But despite their obvious fear, not one fairy flew away home. Instead their collection of delicate but brightly colored wings pressed closer to the two combatants.

Crispin shook his head, he was trying to clear his ears because he couldn’t believe that this flower fairy had just challenged him publicly. His ears appeared to be working just fine though because Arsenic was still laughing at him. “Listen here you pathetic excuse for a flower fairy,” but before he could finish he was rudely interrupted.

“Pathetic excuse am I?” Arsenic sneered as he interrupted. “I’m not the one living lie. I am who I am, I don’t have two faces unlike a certain kitty dragon I know.”

Again the fairies gasped and pressed forward. Crispin growled, “Alright, time to settle this between us and away from prying eyes and ears.”

Arsenic stepped forward, staring cautiously at Crispin and saw no threat and no deceit in his hazel green eyes. “Agreed, where too?”

Crispin thought for a moment and said, “Climb on and I’ll tell you in midflight, that way we can’t be followed.”

Arsenic thought briefly but agreed to Crispin’s terms. His fire red wings a momentarily blur of motion as he climbed on Crispin’s back. His wings a small red smear against the crisp white fur of Crispin. The gathering of fairies was stunned by this turn of events and watched as the two combatants lifted off and were soon nothing more than a white blur amongst fluffy white clouds.

Crispin spoke as he flew, “We will go to where Buttercup and Norman first met. It is neutral ground and we shouldn’t be disturbed.”

Arsenic thought about this for a moment and then voiced his agreement.

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Jane and the Journals, part 3

Gordie hung up the office phone still shaking his head but Jane was quickly forgotten as he returned to the exams from the freshman class on English literature. He was secretly glad that Jane had interrupted him with a phone call and an urgent request for help. The exams were disheartening and he hated grading paper anymore, he would be glad to shuffle the task off his graduate assistant when he showed up.

Jane forgot all about Gordie as soon as the call was concluded. She had made a decision and was moving on to the next step in her still forming plan of action.

She ran upstairs and quickly through together an overnight bag. That task completed, she plopped down on the bed and reached for her cellphone. Scrolling through the list of numbers, she quickly found the one she was looking for and dialed.

“Morning,” the pleasant voice at the other end of the line said.

“Morning Jo, its Jane Perkin. I need your help. Can I come stay for a couple of days?” Jane was breathless and talking nonstop.

“Morning Jane and slow down. Of course you can come stay but what’s up?” Jo replied, her voice and manner calm and reassuring like all librarians.

“It is a long story that I will share in detail when I get there but I need your research skills and advice.” Jane was beginning to sound distracted.

“I’ll be at the house, get here whenever you like. I’ll keep dinner for you.”

Jane murmured her thanks, and rang off. Swallowing the last of her coffee, she made her way into the kitchen and threw together lunch. The workmen must be eating too because for once the house was still and quiet. Jane couldn’t believe her creative energies were flowing again so soon after the completion of the last book. She usually had a dry spell for several weeks or months after completing a book, but this time was different. The journal of Emma Perkin was so full of information and tidbits that Jane knew she would be writing the next Pippa novel almost immediately.

Placing her dishes in the dishwasher without thinking about her actions, Jane was beginning to write in her head. She poured herself a glass of iced tea and wandered to the front porch and curled up in her favorite chair. So lost in thought was Jane, that she didn’t notice Fred pull into the garage. He bent down and kissed his wife on the check, knowing from the look on her face that she was lost in thought. Jane jumped when Fred kissed her, the shock of the tea spilling down the front of her shirt startling her as was Fred’s unexpected appearance.

“Fred!” she shrieked, surprised by her husband’s early afternoon appearance. “What on earth are you doing here at this time of day?”

“Well, my love, I warned you that I would be home early today this morning and I have a surprise for you.” His voice was tender and Jane’s head popped up, her face inquiring. “I rang up Jo when I reached the office and asked her if she wouldn’t mind your company for a couple of days. I have arranged for the workmen to speed up the process.”

Jane laughed and smiled as she grabbed and squeezed her husband’s hand. “Fred, you are the sweetest man alive and I am blessed. I must tell you called Jo and Gordie today. Gordie should be here soon and I asked Jo if I could come stay for a couple days.”

Fred laughed and sat down next to his wife, still holding her hand. “Try and relax at Jo’s. I can see that glint in your eye. I know that Pippa is trying her best to get you to write another book already. You need some down time before you and Pippa wander off into the next adventure.”

“I know you are right Fred but you know how it is. When there is a story that wants to be told, I am helpless to stop the words from flowing out. Jo will be able to help me and Gordie will help us figure out how to handle the journals.”

“Alright, but can you make me a promise?” Fred’s voice was filled with love and concern born of years dealing with the creative process that sometimes accompanies the writing of a novel.

Jane looked up at Fred, her violet eyes staring into the azure blue eyes that she had loved her entire life. “You know I will promise you anything, Fred.”

“Promise me, that you will try to relax and have some fun with Jo. Bring your stitching along with your laptop and tablet. Relax with the girls and don’t become so caught up with Pippa that you forget to eat and have fun.”

Jane squeezed his hand, “I promise. Eat, relax, stitch, and write in moderation I promise.” And as the promise was made, Gordie’s car pulled into the driveway.

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Dragon’s Head Village: Crispin meets Hermonia part 3

Crispin lay there feeling the weight of expectation of his reaction and he lay there staring at the wee creature called Hermonia by Flavia. Hermonia was unaware of the tension crackling on the air and walked over the Crispin and sat herself down next to him and reached out her hand to stroke his head.

“No Hermonia,” began Flavia just as the surrounding flower fairies began their mad dash off of and away from Crispin. Several tried to knock Hermonia’s hand away from Crispin’s head but to no avail.

Crispin watched in slow motion the flurry of activity that surrounded him. The outstretched hand, the scrambling fairies, the grass weaving in the breeze, and fluttering of his own fur. Crispin made a split second impulsive decision and decided to do nothing.

Hermonia’s hand reached his head and he felt the soft subtle stroking and he found he liked the experience. The fairies all stared in amazement. Their wings growing still as they came to rest next to Flavia. Crispin saw the fairies all staring at him, safely out of immediate reach should his temper catch fire as expected.

Hermonia sat down next to Crispin and continued to stroke his head. She was singing to Crispin, her voice barely more than a whisper on the wind.

Dragon and fairies playing in the grass

Flowers smiling and bees bumbling

Fairies all humming while the dragon purrs

Crispin realized that she was making it up as events took place rather than a bedtime lullaby song to her at night. And then, her last words shocked Crispin into action. “He was purring? Surely not, what was purring anyway?’

Flavia felt the presence of the other fairies pressing into her as they strained to hear the words of the tune being sung to Crispin. She was as perplexed and fascinated as the other fairies. Her eyes couldn’t look away from the scene playing out in front of her. Crispin was letting Hermonia stroke him and he was actually purring, like other cats in the village did when they were content and happy.

Crispin, never one to do as expected, roused himself from the delightful experience and bounded to his feet. He startled Hermonia, but she never stopped petting. Crispin, being far more powerful than he looked, knocked her to a sitting position. She was laughing now and still petting him. He liked it, in fact he found himself pushing his head into her hand when she momentarily stopped the petting motion.

“My name is Crispin and why are you doing that?” His voice was deep and rumbly but it didn’t seem to startle her.

“My name is Hermonia and I think you are soft.” Came her reply, still stroking his head but now her hand was venturing down his back as well.

“I am a fearsome dragon,” loud purring accompanied this statement and one the fairies laughed out loud.

All of the heads swung around to stare at the offending fairy, Arsenic. He had an unfortunate nickname but it suited his personality. He hated flowers and every flower he groomed died. He was bitter and difficult to get along with. He had never laughed before that any fairy could remember. Yet here he was laughing at Crispin’s pronouncement.

And then the unimaginable occurred, Arsenic spoke directly to Crispin. “You sir, are most definitely not a fearsome dragon. I know all about you and your secret life. I know all the secrets you hide between the covers of midnight and dawn.”

Crispin’s head swiveled and he glared at Arsenic. “You don’t know what you are talking about.” He growled and tossed Hermonia’s hand from his head. He began to stalk toward Arsenic, who did the completely unexpected and stepped toward the advancing dragon like the knights in bedtime stories do to protect their beloved princess.

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Dragon’s Head Village: Crispin meets Hermonia part 2

Crispin lay there quietly observing the wee creature talking to the Daisy fairy before him.  Crispin knew the fairy, Flavia, but Crispin was puzzled.

Humans in the village had no interaction with the fairies that lived all around them.  Even Zovah failed to recognize the many fairies that lived in the yard and she was more attuned to the world of magic than most.  However, the wee human was quite clearly having a conversation with Flavia.  Crispin could clearly hear both sides of the conversation from where he lay.

“Good Morning Flavia.” Hermonia said.  Crispin noticed that her voice was light and friendly.

“Morning Hermonia, how are you settling in here?” Flavia asked, her voice surprisingly husky for a fairy.

“I love living here.  There is so much to do and see here.  I’ve been learning about Buttercup.  Did you know she was once a great and magnificent dragon?”

“I did.  The fairies are friends with the dragons.  In fact,” Flavia’s voice dropped to a mere whisper.  “Did you knew there is a dragon watching us right now?” 

Flavia winked at Crispin as she said this and Hermonia jumped up and clapped her hands together excitedly.  “Where?  I don’t see any dragons!”  Her tone was excited and then wistful,.

“Don’t you see Crispin?” Flavia inquired.  “He’s pretending to be sleeping ever so peacefully right here in the garden.”

Crispin cracked open an eye and glared at Flavia for giving away his presence but quickly snapped his eye closed when Hermonia swing herself in his direction.

“Are you sure Flavia?  I don’t see any dragons and I saw the dragon walker the other day and those dragons were all big.”  She was clearly pouting now.

Flavia smiled and fluttered up to sit on Hermonia’s left shoulder.  Hermonia didn’t feel Flavia land on her shoulder but briefly felt the flutter of fairy wings brush her cheek as she landed.

“Flavia, all I see is a white cat napping under the rose bush and a the other fairies playing in the grass.”

“That’s all you see Hermonia, or is that all you are letting yourself see?”

Hermonia glanced down at her left shoulder, her three year old face clearly perplexed by the question.  “What’s the difference?”

‘'”Well, you know that most people can’t see the fairies right but you can see us.  Why can you see the fairies?”

Hermonia abruptly plunked down on the grass and Flavia was flapping her lemon yellow wings to stay on Hermonia’s shoulder.  Settling back down, Flavia waited while Hermonia thought. 

Crispin in the mean time was having to deal with the fairies who kept coming up and pestering him with requesting to move or could he please allow them to use him as stepping stone.  Crispin grunted and grumbling softly in response to the constant questions but there was no anger or animosity in his voice. 

Hermonia sighed, “I’m confused Flavia.  I cannot solve the riddle.”

“Let me help, what do dragons look like?”

Hermonia perked up instantly, “Like Buttercup, big and pretty and they fly through the sky breathing fire.”

“You said you saw Zovah the dragon walker this week out walking the dragons, did any of those dragons look or act like that?”

“Oh!” Hermonia squeaked  “Not one of those dragons looked anything like that!  And I certainly don’t remember any of them breathing fire on Zovah.”

Flavia let her consider this for a while longer, waiting patiently for Hermonia to solve the riddle of the dragons.  Her patience was rewarded fairly quickly, “Dragons can be anything or anywhere they want can’t they?”  Hermonia’s voice held awe and wonder at the pronouncement.

Flavia nodded her head in agreement, “Now do you see the dragon Hermonia?”

Hermonia once again glanced around the yard, examining the various creatures and inhabitants of the garden carefully.  It didn’t take long for her to spy all of the fairies around the sleeping cat and climbing up its tail.

Just then Crispin breathed out and his powerful wings unfurled ever so slightly from his body.  “There!  I see him Flavia.  The cat is really a dragon!  I’m going right over there!”  The unabashed joy in her voice was evident to all in the garden.

Before Flavia could issue a warning, Hermonia was on her feet dashing toward Crispin as fast as her little feet would carry her.  Reaching him, she scooped him into her arms and buried her face in his soft, fluffy white fur.

Flavia was fluttering just out of Crispin’s reach, his temper was legendary.  The fairies all held their collective breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion of indignant from Crispin…

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Jane and the Journals, part 2

The next morning dawned warm and the smell of spring was strong in the morning breeze.  Jane was up first and downstairs with a cup of coffee once again buried among the journals.

George wandered in and tried to find a spot to curl up and nap but gave up and stalked from the room.  Fred unfortunately walked in as George was walking out and yelped in pain as George took his frustration out on Fred’s ankle.

“That cat is determined to kill me,” he muttered noticing Jane was oblivious to the whole situation.  “Morning love” he said bending to kiss her and hand her a fresh cup of coffee.

“Huh? Oh, morning.  Hey, thanks” Jane said taking the mug of steaming coffee and was once again promptly lost in the lives of the people spread out in front of her.

“I‘ll be home early today.  Love you.”  With those words Fred disappeared from the office and Jane absentmindedly waved good-bye.

Before her was open the journal of Fred’s and Aunt Liza’s relative, Emma Perkin.  Emma was a cousin via marriage to William Perkin.  Her journals covered the period of her marriage to Allan Perkin and their lives together.  Jane was fascinated by the glimpses of middle class life in Victoria England.

Emma documented every detail of their life together, from the ins and outs of social classes, managing a growing household, and the discovery of William Perkin.  Emma wrote down her secret hopes and dreams in her journal, her disagreements with Allan, and her grief when their eldest child died in a carriage accident.

There was so much potential in just Emma’s journal that Jane found herself overwhelmed.  There was so much first hand source material here that writing novels featuring Pippa would be much smoother.

Aunt Liza had done the incredible and she had blessed Jane with that gift.  Jane set her coffee down on the floor and sprung up.  Grabbing her mug, she greeted the arriving workmen and let them get to work for the day.  Jane placed a call to the local private college and had her call directed to Gordon Fellstone, the dean of the literature department.  Luckily for Jane, he just happened to be an old childhood friend.

“Morning, Gordie it’s Jane Perkin.  I need your help.”

Gordie laughed, “Morning Jane, no time for pleasantries I take it?” 

“What?  Sorry Gordie, how are you?  How’s the family?”

“Good, thanks for asking.  I know Fred’s good, had lunch with him yesterday.  So, how can I help you Jane?”

“Did he tell you about the journals?”

“He mentioned it but then we got onto baseball and well,” he laughed.

Jane laughed, “Yep, I know.  Look, can you come over here and help me?  I need professional help.”

Gordie laughed, “Haven’t I been saying that since you were a wee child?”

Jane snorted, “I’m serious.  I need help making sure these journals are preserved the right way so that they aren’t damaged but can still be used.”

“How’s later this afternoon?  I don’t know how much help I can be but I’ll be there around 2.”

“Two is great, thanks Gordie.  I’ll see you then, the door will be unlocked just come on in.”

Jane hung up without waiting for his reply.  Gordie shook his head and smiled at the dead receiver in his hand.  “She hasn’t changed when she is lost in thought I see.”

Technorati Tags: Jane,Histroical,writing,creative writing,short story,reading

Ugh …

Sorry about the unintended break in storytelling.  It was unplanned and not because I had some perverse need to leave readers hanging.  I blogged about the reason why over on my everyday personal blog.  Let’s just say it involves a thumb, a wall, and some lecherous dust bunnies.

And now back to the cast of characters hanging out in my head …