What's a Dragon? - Chapter 4
Emergency!
Normally, I only go to the hospital for an annual checkup or to get shots or if I get really sick. Al’s been there for injuries from fighting too hard or falling off his bike while doing tricks before, but last week was the first time for me getting that hurt. As a bonus, wolf claws can carry diseases, and they wanted to make sure I was safe from those, too.
I hit my head on the rocks hard enough that I needed a lot of bandages (for the first few days) and even some stitches. I got a concussion, too, and I don’t remember a whole lot from the attack. And basically nothing from my rescue to the hospital. But I did get nightmares from it. Particularly the falling. The crunches from the wolf didn’t help, although I am very, very glad it was just the wolf and not me or Jess. Apparently Mr. Chesbrough decided the best way to get the wolf off of me was to knock it over the cliff, but it dug its claws into my upper arm and pulled me with it, so it’s a good thing he was wearing a flight wand. But now my left arm is in a sling until the muscle heals (which thankfully should be by this Saturday), so I’m really glad it clawed that side and not my writing arm. Dad said I’m lucky it was just my arm and not something a lot more important like my stomach.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Williams has assigned another research project to our class (she seems to love those and said the next will be individual), this time to be completed in pairs. I had to laugh as Shannon ducked a dozen requests by announcing she’d work with me, without actually asking me. I’d planned to work with Jess, but Jess was alright with Shannon’s decision, so that’s why Shannon is now at my house.
“I’m a little surprised that you weren’t the popular partner for this project,” Shannon says while I set up our report using the family computer. The topic we selected from the list was “Static as a condition,” although we have a lot of freedom on what to write about. I’d told Shannon that “life without magic” wasn’t an interesting subject to me, but she insisted that other students should learn about it, and Mrs. Williams approved. Still, we did more research than just looking at my home life.
I suppose I should’ve guessed, but I never knew that about a quarter of people are Static. Alex’s family is actually an outlier on statistics: her entire family is Dynamic, even though she has four siblings.
“Just liking reading doesn’t make you popular,” I answer with a shrug. “Besides, my favorite topics weren’t on the list, and I’m sure everyone just wanted to do it with their own friends. Everyone that didn’t think being a Wizard makes you excellent at everything, anyway.”
Shannon rolls her eyes. “You still made it ea—”
*BREE-BREE*
Shannon jumps as the emergency message board to our right cuts her off, and I try not to do the same so my arm can heal better. I quickly save our outlining work because I know what to expect.
An image of Jess’s mother appears in the middle of the slate-black board, showing her from the shoulders up. “This is an emergency,” she states in a calm and professional manner. “Winged monsters are inbound and expected to arrive within three minutes. The local Defense Force is preparing to engage.” I shut down the computer as my family enters the room. “These monsters are expected to seek out magic energy. Blackout mode is encouraged.”
Blackout. The most common defense: just shut off all power generators. Dad heads to the garage to turn off our own, and a few seconds later our lights shut off. Good thing it’s still pretty light outside, though we keep the blinds drawn just in case the beasts are looking for food. Jess said that Blacksburg apparently gets more use of emergency boards than other places, but our Defense Force is better and it’s basically fine as long as you’re inside for these situations.
Dad comes back as Al pulls a deck of cards out of a side table. “You’re just going to sit here and play cards?” Shannon asks.
Al shrugs. “It’s not like we can help. Just be glad we can see this time.”
Mom puts her hand on his shoulder. “We have flashlights. Don’t just assume that she knows that.”
Al frowns. “Wizards don’t keep flashlights?”
Shannon snorts. “We have flashlight wands.” All the benefits of flashlights except that the user is the batteries, I’ve heard. “But you don’t have a scrying board to watch?”
Dad shakes his head. “None of us could use it. I’ve made sure to find recordings at the library so that my kids know what to expect.” He’d said that it was better to know the reality than to leave it to faceless nightmares. I guess I have wolf nightmares now. My favorites of the records were the Dragon fights—those became dreams.
“What does your family usually do?” Mom asks Shannon.
Shannon groans and looks away. It’s the sort of reaction I’ve learned to expect whenever someone mentions her family or her parents. After a few seconds, Al gets it and changes the subject. “Have you ever played Hearts?”
Shannon and I played together for a round, and Mom sat out the next one. As Dad was dealing the third round, Mrs. Chesbrough appeared on the board beside us again. “The beasts have been removed from the area. Shelter protocols are no longer required at this time.” The board winks off again, and Dad heads out to turn the generator back on. Just as my brother puts the cards away, I hear Shannon mutter, “My father was on the Defense Force.”
I freeze, startled. The lights come back on while Dad walks inside. Al stops putting away the cards. He asks, “What was that?” His voice is only slightly louder than Shannon’s.
Shannon takes a deep breath before repeating herself. “My father was on the Defense Force, in the last place we lived. Mother made me watch every fight of his.” Her voice is a little stronger this time and loud enough for Dad to hear, but she shakes as she clutches her legs to her chest. Her build is thicker than mine, especially since I’m lagging behind on growing up, but she looks tiny right now. “Father wants me to study fire magic, and Mother wants me to study everyone else.” Her face is buried in her knees, and her voice is choked by tears. I can’t say I know how she feels, but I know she needs a hug. I wrap my left arm around her back and my right between her stomach and her legs, gripping her tightly.
It feels like an eternity passes while I hold my friend before she relaxes. “Thank you,” Shannon tells me when I let go.
I smile. “No problem. We still need to write our report, but after that, do you want to kick around our soccer ball?” Al taught me how to use it to let out aggression. Hint: aim at a sturdy wall so that you get the ball back afterwards and don’t damage anything.
Shannon’s expression tells me that was the right choice. “Sure. Now boot up the computer: I think I know how to start the paper.”