Dragons In the Garden by Everett Frisbey (read me like a book txt) 📕

behind the mountains and the forest would soon become hidden under its shadow. But the dragons would be there, they would wait for mom and me. I burst into the house with a loud slam from the door; it was warm inside and quiet. “Mommy, the dragons are here…….Mommy!” She was not at her writing table, perhaps the bedroom. “Mommy the dragons are here………Mo-” I do not know why this memory is not as transparent as the others, but what I saw here remains only as faint images, like looking through water: My mother, lying in bed with barely her eyes open, A tall man standing over her in a long white coat with a black case in one hand and metal things in his other hand; he looked at me only briefly.
“I’m so proud of you baby.” Her voice is a whisper, “My beautiful baby……so proud of you.” I turned out of the room and outside to the garden where the woods were all but completely gone beneath the darkness. I looked upward towards the stars only just now coming into view, with their bright twinkling, faded in the black sky; And what of this universe? I would ask myself years later. What do the galaxies and planets think of people down here? I feel the squished strawberries still in my pocket and gaze upon the woods once more. “Do I believe? Can I believe?”

The funeral lasted it seemed, forever. A church I have never been to, people I have never met, filling the house with all manner of reminiscence and anecdotes I did not quite understand. I hated my clothes; my dress, shoes, even the socks, all the same color and uncomfortable on my skin. I was feeling choked, I needed to leave.
I took a deep breath as the outside air enveloped me in a liberating coolness. I was free from these people, but what to do now. I hadn’t been in the garden in weeks and all I could think to do with it was destroy it. It was a sad garden; untouched and drifting away in the breeze. The colors from the flowers were stale and dull, the plants parched and hunched over like old men. And the strawberries, the strawberries were still ripe and wonderful. I hated the strawberries. I never want to grow them, eat them, or feel them in my hands again.
I began to uproot them one by one, crushing them under my feet, the red juice soaking away into the soil. “Why didn’t you come?” I demanded as I lay waste to the plants. “Where are you stupid dragons?” I screamed this now with tears spewing from my eyes. I hated them; I hated the world and everything in it. “Why did she have to die? Why did mom have to die when the garden was pretty?” I called now to the universe, but it would not answer. “Where is my mom?” I called now to the dragons, but they would not answer. “I want my mom back!” I called only to myself, but all I could do was slump down into the soil and weep. And this I did, when something very unusual caught my eye.
It was a small black granite stone simply resting on the ground near me with no apparent reason or purpose in the world to do so. Where did it come from? I wondered. It was at this moment, when all of a sudden, a brilliant force of wind pushed me back nearly toppling me over. Off in the distance, the forest began dancing and swaying with the wind. A sound of rustling and movement came from outside the garden wall.
I stood back up, I was not afraid, not this time. The wind continued to whistle in my ear, I steadily moved toward the gate, the sound of large footsteps grew louder. I crept closer and closer still to the outside world when suddenly the gate swung open. “Oh I’m sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the stranger. “Uh…are you Emily?” I did not respond, nor did I stop staring at him. He was of average height and slim. Despite carrying himself awkwardly, he had pleasant eyes that seemed somewhat familiar. “Emily, listen my name is – “
“Where are the dragons?” I interrupted.
“- I’m sorry, I didn’t understand.”
“-Where are the dragons? Mom said the dragons will come because of my garden and they haven’t come.” The tears did not stop; the stranger would know my sorrow.
“Okay Emily now listen, I’m your –“
“- Where are the dragons? Where are the dragons? Where –“
“-Please Emily, listen to me, I knew your mom and –“
“-She said they would come…….she said.” The tears were relentless now. The stranger and the world had been forgotten. “Why didn’t they come to help her? Why?”
“Emily, please I –“
“Why? Why? Why didn’t they come for the garden? Why? Why? W-“
“- Emily the dragons brought me here!” He said this boisterously and it brought me from my tantrum. “Yes……yes they brought me here, for you of course. I-I’m to take you back home with me.” He said this without changing his expression. All I could do was look at him with my red and tear streaked face, as if he himself was a dragon. He straightened his posture and returned the gaze. His expression was gentle when he spoke, “You have no idea how uncomfortable it is to fly on the back of one of those things.” My stern face melted away into a smile; and it was reciprocated.
He extended his hand, I reached out to take it, but not before I took one last look at the garden, this garden that brought dragons to Knox County, Ohio. I would never see the garden again; nor the golden fields, nor the dancing forest, but as I walked away from it all, hand in hand with my dad; I did believe in things that were impossible to believe in.

I am an adult now; I live far away from that small town in Ohio. I have lived such a beautiful life, full of happy things, complicated things. I have children of my own now; a boy and a girl, they are still very young. When I look upon my daughter, I am reminded of that little girl and her garden so many years ago.
Did I really believe dragons came to my farm and bring me my father that hot summer day? I suppose it doesn’t matter what I believe. Perhaps the most important thing was not in what I believed, but rather the redeeming power of the belief itself. It gave me a chance to go on, to grow up and live a life without her by my side. The stars it seems, had talked back to me. It spoke of the ways in which the seasons end and begin; it spoke of mortality pervading a seemingly endless, expansive univers in which we all live.
It is late in the evening and my kids are ready for bed. The apartment is cool with the only light from the moon, pouring through the window. The sounds of the city are faint and distant. I go now to their bedroom and begin to tuck them in. I kiss them each on the cheek with the youngest, my son, clinging on to my neck until he can kiss me back. I leave them with a nightlight, but before I go, I will sit by their bedside and tell them of the dragons in the garden.


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Publication Date: 12-31-2009

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