But how are they hanging on these flimsy tent walls?
Being in the tent produced a feeling that nothing existed anywhere but here. How could a piece of tent material totally squash all the noise from a loud faire going on right outside?
There were too many oddities about this place, and yet I was attracted here. I could hardly keep myself from walking inside when I passed it.
Before I could call out again, the principle wonder of Madame Lucinda’s tent walked in front of me and stopped, taking up a challenging stance.
“Nice dragon.”
I know. There was no way the dragon was real. It defied everything I had ever learned. It wasn’t a puppet. It wasn’t a holographic image. It wasn’t a person in a costume, like Fred the Red Dragon. I’d checked out all those possibilities.
The dragon was the size of a large terrier, the head seeming too large for the body. It was shiny green, the scales variegating from green to blue. It had yellow eyes that were fastened on me. Its mouth showed rows of sharp teeth. I’d seen it spit fire before.
Though it seemed impossible—even here at the Ren Faire—I was pretty sure the dragon was real. I didn’t know how, but I had no other answer for it.
When I’d mentioned it to other residents of the Village, they were all fine with the idea that there was a dragon inside the purple and gold tent. No one even seemed to question how a real dragon could be here. Many actually thought dragons had always been real, like dinosaurs, and had convincing arguments why this should be true.
Of course, residents of the Village are not always the most logical, practical people in the world. Let’s face it, we live in a fantasy land where visitors from outside come to be immersed in another time and place. We’re encouraging people to use their imaginations.
My imagination was having a hard time wrapping itself around this very real-looking dragon, confronting me like a guard dog. I feinted one way, and he followed me. I was definitely in his sights.
“Oh. It’s you, Jessie.” Madame Lucinda suddenly appeared in the quiet darkness of the tent. “I’m sorry about Buttercup. She doesn’t like surprises, or unannounced visitors, for that matter.”
“Buttercup? It’s a girl dragon?”
Madame Lucinda laughed daintily as though my ignorance was amusing. She was an older woman, almost hunchbacked, who always wore a long purple robe. She had a difficult time walking. I thought maybe she was crippled, or in some way deformed, since she hid herself in here all the time, even after the Village was closed at night.
She moved her long, gray hair away from her face as she sat down carefully in her chair. Before her was a tiny table with a glowing glass ball resting on it. “Actually, in their fight to survive, dragons have learned to be flexible in their gender. Buttercup is a female right now. She may be a male someday. She’s not old enough to mate as yet. We’ll see when the time comes.”
I moved quickly as Buttercup jumped on a shelf where she usually perched above Madame Lucinda. I took the chair opposite the fortune teller at the table.
“Are you telling me Buttercup is a real dragon?” I said it with all the authority that a master’s degree in medieval history could bring. “Because you know dragons were only mythology. They weren’t like dinosaurs where they existed and went extinct.”
I looked up at the dragon as it made a kind of purring noise on the shelf above us.
I wanted to hear her say it. I don’t know why since I probably wouldn’t believe it.
“What do you think, Jessie? What does your heart tell you?”
“I don’t know about my heart, but my eyes tell me the dragon is real.” I shook my head. “But I know it can’t be.”
“Mythology is hard to define,” she said in a gruff voice. “One person’s mythology is another person’s truth.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
“You aren’t here to ask me about Buttercup anyway, are you, Jessie?”
“No.” I tried to clear my mind and accept that the dragon was a grand illusion that the fortune teller wasn’t giving up. I didn’t blame her. If I had an illusion so lifelike and difficult to ignore, I wouldn’t either.
“I’m here about Wanda again. She’s ruining what’s left to ruin of my wedding. She figured out she can scare animals now, and doesn’t care if she hurts anyone, including children.”
“Regrettable.”
“And I can’t be with Chase knowing she’s looking on and laughing. I have to find a way to get rid of her. Please. You have to help me.” I hadn’t meant to say so much, so quickly. It kind of poured out of me before I could stop.