Howard the Dragon

Dedicated to my Grandchildren

(I recommend you download this charming Children's Tale.)

Once upon a time there was a wee dragon. He was only 10 feet long and his fiery exhale only shot out for twenty feet. He felt very inferior. All the other dragon kids were fifteen feet long by now and had flame throwing ability of 30 feet, some even more! They all laughed at him and called him Pee Wee. His real name was Harold The Horrible, II. His father pretended he didn't notice how puny junior was, and his mother wept when he wasn't looking. He used to enjoy playing with the other kids, but now he sulked behind their the mountain where their cave was, hoping nobody would find him and start teasing him again. Even the GIRLS! were bigger than he was! It was so humiliating.

On this sunny summer's day, Harold sprawled on the sweet, soft apple-green matt of grass that sloped upwards beyond the clouds and daydreamed. He imagined he was a great warrior and every now and then, he'd puff a flame towards a dead tree that had fallen across a gathering of small boulders. The flame didn't quite reach, so he belly crawled towards itSSkidding himself thinking he was just stretching and not inching closer. Sure enough, he inched within 20 feet of it, and foom! lit it. He watched the flame for a minute, then flew over to it and stomped out the flames. After all, Mom and Dad had scolded him a number of times about starting fires. "You can't go around burning up everything you see! The only time you should flame is when you are in danger!"

Emily Wingbat, a beautiful dragonSS practically twice his size and with a flame almost 33 feet longSSwas the love of his life. But Emily wouldn't even look at him! She was in love with Rambo Dragoon, who was big and muscular and could scorch the moon when he burped! Harold sighed. He began to sing a little poem, imagining that if Emily heard it, she would fall in love with him.

!!"Oh, my beautiful Emily, How I wish you'd play with me, beneath the shading apple tree, sharing laughs and dragon glee."!! His voice was sweet and rivalled the song birds with its bell-tone quality. He could sing notes way up high and then drop down to notes very baritone. It was quite enjoyable. But he would never let anyone know how he could warble like lovesick Mockingbird. He stretched his wings and yawned. Boredom prompted him from his secret hiding place. He decided to take a short flight down to the shore that lapped at the feet of his mountain.

He circled the tiny beach that lay between the lowland cliffs. Two dragons frolicked in the shallows of the surf. As he drew nearer, he recognized Emily of his heart and her best friend, Poofy Peril. He landed on the edge of the North cliff and watched them splashing and giggling below.

Emily spied him sitting there and began calling out, "Pee Wee! Pee Wee! Why don't you come down and play with me?"

He blushed and crossed his feet and ducked his head and wrapped his wings about himselfSSand stumbled awkwardly like a dumbo. Embarrassed, he decided to flee. But once airborne, he changed his mind, circled the beach, and descended, landing gracefully at her feet. Much to his surprise, she seemed glad to see him.

"Why Pee Wee, you've grown a bit, haven't you," she said. "Why, I think you are going to catch up with me some day." Her laugh tinkled on the breeze.

He tried to think of something clever to say but his tongue wrapped around his fangs and he just stood

there like a dork. Her eyelids half closed and she smiled at him. His tongue grew huge nearly choked him to death! Say something, you dumb dragon, he thought to himself, but the only thing that came out was a stupid "huh huh huh." A moronic laugh. Mortified, he spread his wings and took flight!

Harold hid behind his mountain for a very long time. He came home for dinner, but left to go hide as soon as his mother would let him go after chores. Chagrin, he wished he'd simply died on the spot when he'd made such a monumental fool of himself in front of Emily. He sprawled on his soft green field and shot flames at the log. He didn't realize that now he belly crawled backwards to make lighting the log harder. He was so depressed he hadn't bothered to get up to stomp out the flames. Why, he'd just blow them out from where he was.

Now he sang mournful songs into the wind.

!!"My love so fair has flown from me. I saw her last by the sparkling sea. How jeweled her eyes, how sequined her scales. The very sunset beside her pales."!! He howled with the storm in his grief.

"Harold," scolded his mother one day, "I don't want you moping around in your secret hide-a-way anymore. This is ridiculous! You're as big as any dragonSSbigger yet than most! Yet you mope and carry on like a lovesick loon."

He dismissed her comments as so much motherly support for her deficient fledgling. He tended carefully to his chores so she'd have no reason to ground him, eager to flee to his pasture and wallow in self pity. He was basking in misery on his high perched meadow one day when he noticed smoke in the horizon. He sat up, stretching his neck for a better look. The column of smoke, indeed, was more than puffing from playful dragons at contest!

Spreading his wing, he soared high, banking towards the black plumes that sooted the sky. Below he spied a small gathering of dragons surrounded by leaping flames. Lowering cautiously, he managed to alight in the center of the group. Why, it was his old playmates! He'd thought them a younger band, he being larger than the rest.

"Ho," Harold cried, "Why do you stand here dumbfounded? Blow the blooming flames out!"

"Do what?" Rambo Dragoon sneered. "Blow? That's what started the fire!"

"No, no. Blow like this!" Harold puffed up his chest and cut loose with a howling, flameless torrent of air. But it backfired and spread the flame farther. Thinking for a minute, he instructed the group: "Fly free from this trap. I shall put this fire out."

Although there was much grumbling and skepticism, the dragons flew from the center of the flames seeking high ground and a good advantage point to watch what Pee Wee was about. They hesitated in calling him "dumb Pee Wee," because, much to their surprise, he'd outgrown them, and his beauty was not to be denied.

Harold flew around and around the spreading circle of flame, blowing towards the center. The flames began to bow and retreat, and soon, they died in a sooty sigh and final puff of smoke in the center from which they'd begun.

Even the most envious of the dragons had to bow to his genius, and the females applauded and cheered as he approached. A hero now, suddenly in the midst of glorious attention from everyone, he still had eyes only for Emily.

One by one, the dragons left to return to their caves. Only he and Emily remained on the scorched countryside.

"Emily...Emily..." He couldn't go on and fell silent.

"You were wonderful today, Howard. You know, at first I didn't even recognize you, you've turned into such a magnificent dragon!"

"Emily," he mustered up his courage once more, closed his eyes, and sputtered, "I...want you to be my dragon lady."

"Oh, Howard," she replied sadly, "my heart has been stolen, and I know not even by whom! But someday, I'll find him."

"But how can you love a mystery?"

"I cannot explain...I hear his fluting from the mountains. A voice so clear and beautiful. And he sings to me. Well, he sings to some Emily and I pretend it is me. His songs swell my heart and someday I will find him. He must be the most beautiful dragon on all the earth."

"No, Emily, you are the most beautiful dragon on earth."

She dropped her gaze from his eyes, spread her wings as if to fly.

"Wait, before you go," he said softly. "Have you tried to find this fluting dragon?"

"I have, but I am confused. The wind carries his song this way and that. It seems to come from over there. Why, even where you live. Have you ever heard him singing on the wind?"

"Yes, I think he sings on the other side of the mountain," he whispered hopefully. "Perhaps you will find him soon."

She lifted wings and flew away.

His heart swelled, for he knew she would find him. He would hurry to his secret place and sing as he had never sung before. Perhaps she would be his yet.

Howard hurried home, whistling all the way and puffing smoke rings. He strutted to the cave entrance feeling quite proud of himself.

No more had he cross the threshold to the cave than his mother roared with a fury so great the air almost turned red!

"Howard! Get your waxy wings in here front and center right now!"

"Yes ma'am," he quivered, frightened. He'd never seen his mother so angry.

"Were you at Mountain Valley today where the fire was started!"

"Well, yesSS"

"To your room! You are not to leave this house for a month!"

"ButSSbutSS"

"No buts! One more utterance out of you and you'll be grounded two months!" She pulled back her chin, stuck out her chest and pointed to his tunnel with a wing.

He slinked to his room and cowered in the corner. How was he to explain if she wouldn't let him? A week went by. His food was served to him in his tunnel and she would not suffer a single word from him.

Then one morning she came to his bed.

"Howard, you can come out. Your father and I want to speak to you."

Howard obeyed, dreading what further punishment might be due him.

His mother stood next to his father, and his father bowed his head, looked at his mother, then looked Howard in the eye.

"Son, I fished with the old ones today. I heard it was you who put out the fire and that others had started it. I want to hear your story."

So he told them and they stood silent for a moment. His mother, who'd been studying the floor, looked up. A big tear slipped down her face. "I am sorry I didn't listen to you, son. Will you forgive me? Us?"

He answered by nuzzling them both. Then he asked hopefully, "Did you hear about it from Emily?"

"Why, no. Emily has left the nest and flown away. It is said she has found a mate."

He did not have to say a word, his sudden grief bore itself on his face. Wings sagging, he left the cave. For hours he roamed the hills, stunned with the loss of his heart of hearts. At last he found himself in his old hiding place. He fell upon the apple-green grass and wept.

His keening cry exhausted, he began singing mournfully from the edge of a granite cliff. ÌÌ"My love has flown away, away, away. I cannot bear to live another day. Oh, why my Emily, did you not find the one who sings to you on the wind? Oh, come to me dark night that I might not weep again."ÌÌ

On and on he wailed his sorrow to the skies. Evening fell and he slept on the dewy lawn. The stars watched over his sleep while the moon rose and set again. Dawn found him crumpled in a defeated heap, too sad to lift his head.

Then he heard it. Singing. As sweet as any singing he'd ever heard. ÌÌ"Is that you my love I heard last evening? I am coming to you."ÌÌ His heart leapt, but he wasn't sure who this was singing to him. He'd never heard a dragon sing beforeSSexcept himself, of course.

He sang, "I know not if it is I you seek, come and let me see you." His voice fluting melodiously.

Then a flapping of wing from out of nowhere, and there she was. His beloved Emily!

"But...but...but I heard you'd gone away with a mate," he stammered.

"No, I left seeking a mate. And now I have found him."