Blanca the dragon perched on a
short stone wall. Sunlight glinted off
her white scales casting tiny shimmering rainbows through the air and across
the ground. She stretched her small
wings and sighed.
“What’s the matter?” Naranja
asked.
Blanca shook her head and continued
to stare off into the distance. “Just
waiting for Hazel.”
Naranja sat next to his daughter
and put his arm around her. His orange
scales cast a warm peach glow across her neck and face.
“I haven’t seen her in a long
time,” Blanca said. After a pause she
added, “Why doesn’t she come to play anymore?”
“Well… What do you think?”
“I think maybe she’s busy. Or she found out I was imaginary. Does she know I’m imaginary, Dad?”
“You sure you want to talk about
this?”
“Yes. I want to know.”
Naranja pulled Blanca closer and
said, “When humans are little they don’t separate reality from fantasy. Everything is real to them. Everything is magical. When they grow up though… They lose that. The magic, the unrestrained possibility of
every strange idea, every enchanted landscape, every mystical creature...
becomes unlikely, then improbable, and finally impossible. After that, things are either real or fake to
them.”
Blanca nodded and took a deep
breath. Her snout started to quiver and
the sparkle in her gemlike eyes rippled.
A series of hitching sobs racked her body. “Hazel thinks I’m fake?”
“Oh sweetie,” Naranja said. Blanca clawed her way onto his lap, wrapped
her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his scaly chest. Hot tears streaked down his torso as she
continued to convulse and wail. He held
her tight and rocked her.
When the wail became a whimper he
said, “She will always remember you. You
were a huge part of her life. A special,
magical friend.”
Blanca howled again. “But she won’t come and play with me
anymore.”
The crying continued for a long
time. Naranja did not try to console her
with words. He simply wrapped his wings
around his daughter, rocked her, and stroked his clawed fingers across her
pearl-white scales; from her forehead to the nape of her neck. His own tears ran unhindered down face
“Dragon parents dread this moment,”
he finally said. “Human toddlers wander
into dragon lands, befriend dragon children, and they become nearly inseparable
friends. This continues for years. We know that one day the humans will vanish
from our children’s lives. We understood
the inevitable hurt that follows.”
“Then why do you let it happen at
all?” Blanca asked, her voice wavering
on the verge of tears once again.
Naranja sighed. “That’s a good question. And we ask it of ourselves constantly. Do all those years of fun and adventure
balance out the looming pain? I don’t
know. I hope so. It warmed my heart to watch you two play
together.”
Blanca was silent, except for a
slight sniffle and occasional deep breath.
“Maybe she’ll still come play with
me?
Maybe. From time to time. Most dragon children cling to that hope. And sometimes the human children do return.”
“Will Hazel come back?”
“She might.” He said kissing her forehead. “It will be different though. She might be drawing a picture of you and
find herself here.”
“Or maybe writing a story,” Blanca
added, her face lighting up.
“Right. Or she might be asleep and dream about
you. Or maybe even playing pretend in
her room, or exploring outside, and find her way back here. But that’s what it will be now. Pretend.
The utter belief, that magical confidence, won’t be there.”
Blanca nodded and smiled. “That’s okay.
As long as I still get to see her.”
“I think you will.”
“Good. Because I love her so much, Daddy.”
Naranja hugged her and said, “She
loves you too, sweetie.”
