Bendragon

Music is playing, beautiful soft flowing music, similar in quality
to water. I think it's in my head. The picture of the green dragon over
the fireplace arches it's back, makes a strange noise like molten
liquid, and peels itself off the poster on my wall. It flys about my
living room, growing larger and larger in size; then when it has
settled on a size, it stands before me, green, majestic, powerful. I am
not afraid, it is not a bad dragon. If you saw it you wouldn't be
afraid either. It is holding something in it's hand, which it offers to
me.

I take it?

My hand, hurts suddenly, burns. I look down, the object the dragon has
given me disappears, and leaves a mark on the palm of my hand in the
shape of a yin yang symbol.

"What the?" I say startled. "What does it mean?"

I look up, but the dragon is back in the poster.

I look at my hand and the mark is still there, burning a strange
unnatural heat.

I remember painting that dragon with oil pastels years ago when I was
alone in a council flat. It was a time when I had nothing, felt too
depressed to do anything or go anywhere. In desperation I pinned a big
sheet of plain paper onto the wall and began painting a murial on it.
It was going to be some kind of visual map to help me get my head back
together. I thought if I didn't think about what I was drawing, and
just let go, my unconscious mind would paint the answer to my
problems.

But that was a long time ago, and I never finished the murial, the
desperate energy that gripped me at the time, slowly dissipated into
the television screen of playstation games and the digital world of the
internet, and for a time I escaped into an electronic libido - but the
murial remained unfinished on my wall, with the green dragon in it's
centre.

Now I have moved away from that place, and due to space limitations in
my luggage, I decided not to take the whole murial with me. But the
green dragon I felt a real pang for and couldn't leave it behind. So I
carefully cut out the picture of the dragon with scissors and took it
with me. It has travelled with me ever since, rolled up like a sacred
scroll. And wherever we move, I unravel it and put it on the wall,
alone, without the rest of the murial.

As I looked at it, my hand began to itch and feel restless. I looked at
my hand again and the yin yang mark was slowly disappearing, fading
chameleon-like into the skin on the palm, as if it had never been
there.

I knew at once what I had to do. I raked through the cardboard boxes
and black binbags, one after the other, all still packed from a recent
move, and searched for some oil pastels. I was tired, deeply deeply
tired, moving house can take it out of you. Celendine my partner lay
sleeping in the next room, pregnant with our child. And I felt the
familiar pang of worry as I thought about her. I was going to be a
father. Would I be a good father? Was Celendine going to be OK? Then
the worry was replaced by a warm pang of happiness inside. There was
something miraculous about having a child. I was getting used to the
idea of becoming a father now and instead of fear it was joy I was
feeling. My life had changed so much, was so different to how it had
been, I never thought that something like this would happen. Celendine
was like a gift from God.

This time when I painted the murial I wouldn't be sad like I had been
before, wouldn't be desperate to find something. This time when I
painted it, I would be happy - which made me feel like I didn't need to
finish it. Like these things should only be done when you need to find
some way out of depression, or when your life doesn't feel right and
needs some meaning to it.

My hand itched again and I felt fire stir inside me, a restlessness to
paint, and I knew that even though I felt content with my life, I still
had to do it, I had to finish the map. The dragon was telling me
something, reminding me of unfinished business.

So I shook off the feelings of tiredness and fatigue and picked up an
oil pastel. I didn't bother to find any paper this time, I just painted
straight onto the wall - working frantically, going outwards from the
dragon in the centre. My hand seemed different this time, more
confident, freer than it had felt the first time when I painted the
murial. It was light as air and seemed to dart here there and
everywhere across the wall, flying like an uncaged bird with the
ability to graffiti, singing with it's movement. Images and symbols
appeared before my eyes as if from nowhere, and I got the feeling I was
actually watching someone elses work unfold and not my own.

Five hours later, exhausted, exhilirated, and in a state of happy
euphoria. I stared in wonder at the finished murial. I looked and
looked, but it didn't mean anything to me, it didn't make sense. It was
just patterns and weird symbols; colours all swirled together to make
shapes that could become other shapes. I stared and stared, transfixed,
half crazy from the effort, but unable to see any answers or meaning,
and not really caring.

Celendine had been stood behind me for some time in the doorway,
watching me work in silence. I had been unaware of her presence. So
when she suddenly spoke, breaking my silence, I jumped in shock.

"Gosh." She said. " What have you done to Bendragon?" (Celendine calls
it Bendragon, after my dog, cause she says the expression on it's face
is similar to the one Ben has.)

I turn round. I could feel my eyes were all wild and gleaming from five
hours of solid painting, and that I was living off pure adrenaline.
"It's a map." I say, realizing as I say this how crazy I must
sound.

"A map?"

"Yes."

"A map of what?"

"I don't know. Life I guess, human consciousness, nature, God, another
world? not sure."

She doesn't say anything but looks at it, I am feeling a bit trippy and
there are beams of bright golden yellow coming from her face, I think
she is like an angel. She is so beautiful. I am lucky, I silently hope
and wish she never goes, that we will always be together. It scares me
how much I am in love with her, how much she means to me. I think of
the new life growing inside her, and wonder what it is going to be
like, what sort of kid it will be, if we will be able to cope with the
responsibility, if I can be a good father to the child.

"You're beautiful." I say.

She looks at me, and I see deep inside her, all the colours that make
up her being like a map; I think it is the most beautiful map in all
the world. We hug each other, and holding her feels so right, how it
should feel to hold someone, I love her smell, the warmth of her body
close to mine, the way she holds me with just the right amount of
pressure, not too close, not too far away, everything feels so right,
she slots perfectly into my life. I feel bliss shared, joined into one
warm healing force.

Then suddenly I feel strange, like something wierd is going on. I think
I can hear that strange soft music again. There is something surreal
about the room. I look up at the wall, and the shapes and symbols are
changing, swirling into each other, becoming something else. Me and
Celendine look at each other suprised, but strangely we aren't afraid
of what we are seeing, the force that is causing the strange rift in
reality doesn't feel hostile. The green dragon turns it's head to look
at us and winks. We look at each other again, thinking the same thing,
is this really happening? Are we dreaming?

The dragon then lifts up one of its paws and gestures for us to follow
it. Follow? Where? It winks again and points into the wall, the
swirling mass of colours and symbols have turned inward and have become
a surreal tunnel, and at the end of the tunnel is a distant point of
what looks like daylight. Me and Celendine look at each other again in
disbelief.

I step forward to follow the dragon down the tunnel, but Celendine
grabs my arm in alarm to stop me. "No don't go, is it safe do you
think?"

The dragon turns and smiles at her, the look and the smile it gives is
so warm and friendly, I feel her grip relax on my arm in response. It
doesn't speak but it's eyes and expression tell her not to be afraid
and that she can trust it.

"Let's go." She says, her face all glowing suddenly with excitement. "I
want to see what's on the other side."

Now I am the one who is feeling cautious and reluctant. "I don't know
man, maybe we shouldn't go? perhaps we should stay here."

The dragon turns to look at me and gives me such an I-should-no-better
expression that I find my cheeks flushing with embarrassment for being
such a coward. It then smiles and gestures once again for us to follow
it, a reassuring breeze seems to blow through the room, urging us to go
forward with a gentle whisper in our hair and clothes.

Unable to contain the impulse anymore, we hold each others hand and
step through the wall into the strange tunnel and follow the green
dragon. As if on queue Ben walks gingerly into the room, sensing
something is going on. He looks at me and Celendine with a quizzical
worried look on his face. He stands at the edge of the tunnel unsure,
wagging his tail nervously, he pines a bit and claws the ground to get
our attention. I turn round.

"Come on Ben." We both say urging him to come with us. "It's alright.
Come on, you can come too." We clap our hands and slap our thighs, and
he steps into the tunnel, testing it first with one paw, then another.
When he has got his two front paws in, he wags his tail manically,
still unsure, looking at us concerned and for confirmation that it's
alright. "It's ok Ben, come on." He steps fully in and walks quickly to
us, nervous. We pet him and reassure him that everything is alright. He
keeps nudging his head under my hand to get me to stroke him, then
settles down and stays close to my heel, and we walk down the strange
multi-coloured tunnel of shapes and symbols towards the daylight
streaking in from the other side. The green dragon has passed through
to the otherside now and the music is getting louder and louder, it is
composed of the most beautiful, mind-bending melodies I have ever
heard.

On the otherside of the tunnel we step into a place full of flowers,
trees, meadows and blue skies with angel clouds. Ben darts off to meet
what looks like a golden fox the same size as him, they seem to be
talking like old friends. The air here is fresh and everywhere there is
music. The greendragon settles down near us.

"What is this place?" I ask.

"This is the place you were trying to find."

"Uh?"

"A place where you can go to escape the pressures of life and find your
youth again."

"So the murial worked. It was a map, a way out?"

The dragon smiles. "Do you remember when you were really little, just
before you went to sleep at night, you would look up at your ceiling
and it would become a portal and transport you to another world, and
there you would have adventures all of your own, that nobody knew
about. There you became someone else with another identity, living a
different life."

"Did that really happen?"

"Yes. You used to spend so much time there, you would often get
confused and wonder which world was the real one. This one, or the one
where your mum and dad slept next door. Then, as you grew up, you were
given more and more reponsibilites, so that you became more firmly
grounded in the world were your parents were, and slowly you lost touch
with all this and forgot. You tried to find your way back here
unconsciously, by doing many different things, painting that murial for
instance when you were sad; but you didn't have the final ingredient
that would get you here."

"The final ingredient?"

Celendine is looking around her amazed. "I know this place, I think
I've been here before."

"Yes, you too used to come here a lot when you were little, only you
also have forgotten." The dragon said. "But only those who become like
children, can see this place. With responsibility and adulthood, comes
doubt and cynicism and the magic and innocence that can take you to
this place is lost."

Ben is darting around the meadows playing with this golden fox, they
seem to have become good friends, Ben is looking real happy.

"Even old Ben used to come here when he was a puppy. Look there he is
reunited once again with an old friend." The dragon smiled.

"What is this place called?" Celendine asked.

"Never never land."

"Never never land?"

"When you were a child you would come and go here as often as you
pleased, then return back to your own world; you can do it again now,
but this time there are rules."

"Rules?"

"Yeah, because it is the love you have for each other that opened the
portal; you can only ever open it with love. If you argue or fall out
with one another, the portal won't open. If you come here with trouble
in your heart, the portal won't open. But if you just hold one another,
like today, in purity and truth, then and only then will the way be
open, and you can come and and go from here as you please." The dragon
suddenly looked very serious. "One very important thing I need to
mention. You must remember to go back to the normal everyday world. I
will come and get you when it is time to return and show you the way
back, and you must always follow me when I do this."

"Why?"

"Because time doesn't exist here, but it does in your world. The longer
you spend here, the longer time goes by in the other world. If you
don't turn up for your work, or pay your bills, then the more people
will worry about you and come looking for you, and then they may find
the portal. That mustn't be allowed to happen. This place is sacred, we
cannot risk it being contaminated by adults, children yes, but not
adults."

We both nod grimly, understanding what the dragon meant.

"Who are you?" I asked. "How come you know all these things?"

The dragon sighed. "We used to be good friends you and I when you were
young, we had many adventures together. You used to ride my back and
feel the wind blow through your hair, together we were a team and kept
peace in this world, rescued those who were in distress, fought against
the bad forces."

"But I painted you, how can this be?"

"Before the coming of age and doubt kicked in, and you lost your memory
of this place. You had many friends here who have never forgotten you,
though you have forgotten us " The dragon went silent for a moment, as
if deep in thought. "When that happened I became invisible to you, and
watched as later in your life, you fell into sadness and despair. I
hated to see you suffer, for unlike humans, dragons memories are long,
and we don't forget our friends, or our enemies. So I found a way to
reach you. Though I was invisible to your eyes, you could still feel my
presence; and in your thoughts you could still hear my voice, though
not with your ears, so you didn't realize it was my voice. I encouraged
you to draw and make me real. And when you had done this I waited
patiently for the final ingredient."

There was a sound of hooves and snorting. A unicorn suddenly
appeared.

"An old friend of yours I think Celendine." The dragon said

Celendine amazed reached out to stroke it's mane. "I don't remember
ever having a unicorn as a friend."

The unicorn snorted with insulted displeasure at being forgotten.
Celendine went to stroke it. "I'm sorry, it's alright.. didn't mean to
forget you, I just can't remember much."

"Final ingredient?" I asked.

"Yes, the final ingredient."

"Which was?"

There was the sound of wings flapping and a giant butterfly came and
settled itself beside Celendine.

"Another friend of yours I believe." The dragon said.

Celendine smiling put her hand on it's silky head and it seemed to pur
like a cat. Then a couple of blackbirds came down from the sky and
landed on both her shoulders and chortled something in her ear, which
made Celendine laugh.

"Love." The dragon said matter of factly. "Love conquers all
things."

A cute looking hedgehog nudged Celendines foot, "Hello." It said to her
with trusting brown eyes. "I missed you. Where have you been?"

Celendine looked down and smiled at it.

"Seems you're very popular round here." The dragon laughed.

"I never knew I had so many friends when I was a child." Celendine
said. " The only person I remember talking to when I was little, was
God, because the reverent told me, God was everywhere and like a father
watching over me, so I used to talk to him all the time. But I don't
remember any of you, I'm so sorry." Celendine said guiltily. The little
hedgehog looked a little sad, she didn't remember him and turned its
lazy eyes this way and that, "It doesn't matter." It said finally. "We
understand. Will you be our friend again?"

"Of course." Celendine said. "I would like that very much."

The hedgehog seemed overjoyed to hear this, as did the unicorn, giant
butterfly and blackbirds.

I am beginning to feel a little freaked out. "Am I dreaming all this?"
I say. I'm now beginning to wonder if this is real, and if the alarm
clock is going to go off any moment and wake me up for work. I pinch
myself, blink my eyes, stamp my feet, but I feel wide awake.

"Don't worry," The dragon said. "Here you will find all the stories you
ever wanted to write, all the paintings you wanted to paint. Here you
will become like a child again. All you have to do, is explore, and
have fun. This is your own playground, your own secret garden."

"What?" I say perplexed.

"I have spoken enough now." The dragon said getting a little cross with
my questions. "I am tired and need to rest. I will come looking for you
when it is time to go back. Goodbye for now."

And with that long speech still hanging in the air, to answer my
clamouring thoughts, the dragon took to the air, and with a sound like
a sonic boom sped off towards the horizon. The surreal music stopped,
and I figured it must be something to do with the dragon, musical
scales I should expect.

Ben suddenly came back panting with smiley eyes and I patted his
head.

Me and Celendine shrugged our shoulders, then holding each other's
hands began walking. The unicorn, giant butterfly and blackbirds also
left; but the hedgehog remained, seeming to be real happy to see
Celendine again. As we walked along, it kept by her heels, and seemed
to grunt with pleasure at being reunited with her. The unicorn kept
somewhere far in front, running like the wind, and would emerge every
now and then, aloof and majestic, before speeding off somewhere again.
As if it was scouting ahead, and stopping every now and then, to make
sure we were all ok.

We walked down a path full of wild flowers, dragonflies, butterflies,
buzzing bees and birdsong; wondering where it may lead, and not really
caring, cause if I remember this place right, it doesn't matter which
way you go, there's magic everywhere.