The Dragon of Nottingham - Back at the Recorder

Mom and Dad are fast asleep. So is the dragon. Always a strange feeling when you're up in the middle of the night and not a peep from anyone, anywhere. Not a snore. not a fart. Not a sniffle.
Sometimes on nights like these, I close my eyes and imagine I am sitting atop my dragon and that we fly off into outer space.

One moment it's all clear blue skies and puffy white clouds. The next minute it's all stars, darkness and magic.

An incredible feeling of peace washed over me and I smiled. When we'd gone as far as we deemed necessary, we turned around to have a glance at where we came from. It sure was a sight to see. The Earth was a big blue marble, suspended there in space. So innocent. So serene. So spectacular. Hard to believe it's ever seen a day of trouble.

It's then I noticed movement in the distance. I thought nothing of it at first. Space dust I imagined. But as the movement got closer I realized it wasn't space dust at all. It was a bicycle. And not just any bicycle. It was a bicycle built for two.

"Hello, Isaac," said Mom. "We've been looking all over for you."

"All over the world she means," said Dad. "From the river Nile to the falls of Niagra. You weren't easy to find."

"What are you two doing here? I thought you were both sound asleep."

"We have dreams, too, you know, but when we got as far as the Taj Mahal your mom and I decided to come back and get you. We'd been feeling selfish keeping these travels to ourselves."

"We stopped by your room," said Mom, "but you were gone."

"No wonder the house was so quiet when I left."

"So," said Dad, "is that the little dragon we've heard so much about?"

My mom leaned over and caressed the dragon's cheek.

"He's a cutie. He ought to show himself more often."

My dragon blushed and turned all fire-engine red.

"What do you think of our ride?" said Dad. "We found it on a trash heap in Athens."

"It's looks a little beat up, Dad."

"Aren't we all, son. And that's what makes us more determined to get to where we're going. But this sweet little ride's got character. Don't you think?"

"It's got no back tire."

"Just a minor flaw, Isaac. Charles Lindbergh had nothing but a flimsy paper airplane when he flew across the Atlantic! And to maintain his altitude he needed to travel light, so he threw his clothes out the window and flew the plane to Paris in his underwear! And he ate nothing but thin slices of Swiss cheese the whole way!"

"Because the holes made it lighter?"

"Don't be silly," said Dad. "He just liked Swiss cheese."

"Shouldn't we get going, dear?" said Mom. "We have a lot of ground to cover before we wake up."

"No," said Dad. "Let's hang back a while longer. It's always good to stop on occasion and look back at where you came from. There are some things in this life you don't ever want to forget."

So me and the dragon nuzzled up to Mom and Dad and we watched the spectacle that is Earth. Round and round she goes. Will she ever stop? I hope not. I've got too much invested in her all ready. My buddy Paul, my comic book collection and Murray, my pet goldfish. What would become of them all if the whole world just stopped? And what kind of stop would it be? A slow stop that would have us dripping off like raindrops? Or would it come to a sudden stop and hurl us into oblivion? They put a time limit on people. Is there a time limit on dragons? And what about planets? Do they go on forever? And how long is that?

A knock on the door woke me from my dream.

"Breakfast!" said my mom. "Hurry before it gets cold. Butter won't melt on cold waffles, you know!"

"I'll be right down, Mom!"

Mom saves the day, as usual. Every time I start asking myself the big questions about life, Mom comes through with a stack of hot waffles topped with oodles of sweet butter and warm maple syrup. Or dad will come barging into my room to tell me all about how cars operate.

"Magic!" he once told me. "You just put the key in the ignition and, vroom! You're off to see the world! Any time you want! It doesn't get any more magical than that!"

So I guess I'll have to put up with those two lovely people for a few more years. They're both sweet, but really not much help at all. And despite all their misleading information,  I'm sure I'll have it all figured out by the time I’m ready to leave.