...Perchance to Dream.
Hey all, just want you all to know, right off, that this is *NOT* my story.
Was a story I ran across many years back that has slowly but surely disappeared from the general internet and figured it'd have a place here.
I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did/still do.
And on a side note, the song mentioned is titled 'Witch of the Westmorland'.
Highly recommended you give it a listen.
Enough ranting, enjoy the story. ;o)
Ðrak
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This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between my characters
and living people is intentional (It's =my= fantasy!) and wouldn't be
noticed by anyone other than those knowing me personally.
A few notes: I don't expect many to be familiar with the
setting.... It's St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada: My home town. Also,
Screech is a type of dark Jamaican Rum popular here. It was apparently
named after the sound made by one of the first Newfoundlanders to drink
it straight.... But I digress....
As this was my first work of fiction, I greatly appreciate any
comments or criticisms you might offer. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy
it....
******************************************************************************
"...Perchance To Dream"
Copyright 1995 by Jonathan Martin ((C))
"You come here often buddy?"
The man across the bar from me was drunk, so I decided that
ignoring him wouldn't be prudent.
"I used to... haven't been here for a while though."
That answer seemed to placate him, and he went back to his
pint of Guinness.
It was a Wednesday night; Talent Night here at the local
Irish pub. Two guys who couldn't have been much more than the
legal drinking age were up on stage with a guitar and a fiddle,
enthusiastically belting out one of my favourite Stan Rogers
tunes. Actually it was by Archie Fisher, but I had a suspicion
they were emulating Stan's version.
"Wet, rose she from the lake/and fast and fleet went she/
One half the form of a maiden fair/with a jet-black mare's body"
I always thought those lyrics were a tad strange. That was a
thought, I told myself. They paled in comparison to my own
experiences.
I laid a tip on the counter for the bartender, waved to the
musicians on stage (They were pretty good, after all) and walked
out into the downtown night.
It was strange how the lights of the dockyard gave an almost
surreal air to the harbour. Almost as if the night was forever
hovering there over the South-Side hills, waiting for its chance
to roll in on the city through the protective bubble of mercury-
vapour lamps.
I turned and walked towards the west end of the city. It was
about five kilometres to Bowering Park, where I met her every
Saturday.
I'd never really gotten over it. I still loved her, yet I
often despised her for what she'd become.
~ It just happened ~ was what she'd said.
That was easy enough to believe. It wasn't as if any other
explanation made sense. She'd just woken up one morning to find
that her world had changed around her.
And I'd woken up beside her to find everything I'd held dear
was gone....
I walked through the gates to the park, stopping for a
moment to watch the ducks and swans fast asleep on the edge of
the pond. I continued up the road, beneath the almost geological
canopy of the trees, past the bronze statue of Peter Pan, erected
by a grieving Englishman in the memory of his drowned niece.
As I walked, her face found its way into my mind. She was
beautiful, though not in the way I had once thought. Damn! Why
did I still meet her like this? Maybe I was a masochist. I'd have
to be, the way the sight of her drove white-hot needles of pain
into my soul. I think seeing her perhaps gave me hope that my
childhood dreams were possible after all, even if not to me. For
some reason, that lessened the pain a little.
Further up the path, the road gradually changed from a well-
kept paved strip to a worn maintenance track. Hopefully the local
teen alcoholics had packed it in for the night and were home
vomiting up their guts by now. I reached a small, overgrown
footpath leading down to the Waterford River.
Looking around furtively, I ducked into the underbrush and
scrambled down to the bottom of the ravine. As I reached the
bottom, I made one last check to make sure there was nobody
around. I was beginning to care less and less about whether
anyone saw us. They probably wouldn't believe their eyes anyhow.
Walking to the waters edge, I sat down on one of the large
rocks that protruded into the river at irregular intervals. This
gorge was really a beautiful place. A carpet of rough grass grew
from near the shoreline and about 30 feet back gave way to a wall
of huge pine and elm trees which extended about 50 feet up
and bent inwards to almost meet the ones growing from the other
bank.
I was absentmindedly examining a vein of quartz in the rock
beneath me when I heard the heavy backbeats of leathery wings
behind me, followed by a soft thud. I was prepared for the voice
that found its way into my head.
~Hello Robert~
I turned around slowly and faced the creature whom I had
once called my wife.
As with every time we met, I let my eyes survey her new
body, starting with her eyes. They were luminescent, glowing a
soft green in the 2:30 AM darkness. The ridges above them were
patterned with crests that met in the centre of her head in a
design resembling a medieval harp. Behind the eyes small horns
pointed backwards, gently curving towards her back. Her short,
blunt snout ended in two small nostrils, below which fangs
protruded from her upper jaw. Her chin curved gracefully inwards
towards her not-overly-long neck. A horizontal pattern of scales
ran from her upper neck down to between her legs, where it
continued along the length of her long, sinuous tail; a tail
which ended in a cluster of thin, stiletto-like spines. These
scales were mostly a shade of teal, while the scales which
ensconced the rest of her were overall an exotic peacock, fading
to a rich of teal on the outsides. Mounted on her powerful
shoulders were her wings, folded almost flat against her back
where her dorsal ridges made a sort of path down towards her
tail. Her forelegs were powerfully muscled, almost exactly like
arms, and were planted firmly in the ground between her
similarly-muscled legs, shiny grey talons clutching the earth as
she crouched there before me.
"Hello love...." I had long ago stopped using her real name.
It no longer seemed appropriate. My love for her, however, had
never abated.
Tears started to well up in my eyes, and I ran forward to
bury my face against her shoulder. She smelled wonderful, as
always. I must have stayed there for about 15 minutes, tears
falling from my eyes to cascade off her warm scales, my body
racked with fits of sobbing. I was almost oblivious to the
coldness of her talons as they cradled my head and played with my
hair, her warm aromatic breath on my face.
Finally I disengaged myself and wiped off the tears.
~You know I still love you~
"Yes... I do... and I love you too. It's just so difficult,
no, scratch that, it's bloody impossible."
~How do you think I feel? I have a child to raise~
I'd almost forgotten about that. She was pregnant with our
first child when she was changed. Somehow, the pregnancy
continued, albeit in an altered state and about 10 months later,
she'd laid an egg about the size of a large watermelon. I'll
never forget what it looked like. It was coloured the same as her
scales, but as if it were coated with watercolour paints, and
someone had smeared it with a wet cloth. At that point she was
living in a rough-hewn cave outside of town which I had helped
her carve out of a cliff. As neither of us knew how long Dragon
eggs took to hatch, I didn't see her much after that until about
3 weeks later when she managed to catch me with the good news by
the river.
I had so far seen my son 3 times. Always as he slept, as
neither of us thought it would be a good idea show him a human,
even if it was his own father.
"How is the little guy?" I asked
~Pretty good. He spends more time awake now, so I won't be
able to see you as often.~
I recoiled at the thought. I sometimes wondered if the
weekly meetings weren't all that was holding me together.
"I understand. Has he talked yet?" We had assumed that since
she could talk, then our son could as well, eventually.
~No. Not yet. I think he's more Dragon than I am. I'm
beginning to doubt he ever will now.~ She must have interpreted
my disappointed gestures correctly. ~Don't worry. I'm beginning
to get the hang of his body and pheromone signals. They're almost
as effective as spoken language~
"That's good to know," I said sarcastically. "At least one of
us may be able to bring up our child."
~Don't worry. What happened to me could possibly happen to
you as well~
Wistfully I replied, "I'm not holding my breath. One out of 6
billion aren't exactly great odds. You'd better go back to your
cave. Give him a hug for me."
~I will. 'Till next time, Dear Heart~
"Yeah. ' Till next time...."
She turned abruptly, spread her great wings, and crouched
low. In a single powerful motion, she was off the ground, wings
catching the air, and then, gone.
I stared at the marks left by her talons in the grass, and
slowly turned to make my way home alone.
I awoke the next morning in my otherwise empty bed with a
pounding headache. I probably shouldn't have drunk that bottle of
Screech and was most likely still drunk. I stumbled to the
bathroom and looked over my face in the mirror.
I was still human.
Like I expected THAT to change in the near future.
I also looked like Hell.
My eyes were sunken into their sockets, and bloodshot to
boot. My beard needed to be trimmed badly and I was starting to
grow a moustache. A trip to the cupboard for the clippers and my
razor put a stop to that. The hot water made me feel almost
human. Hah! Just what I needed. I convinced myself that being a
raunchbag was NOT the way to solve my problems, then climbed into
the shower.
About 20 minutes later, I stepped out of the shower and set
about straightening up the mess that I called my home. I wondered
if her lair was as messy as this. I doubted it. After all, what
use did she have for clothes, books or newspapers? I made a
decent salary as a professional diver working for a small
contracting firm, and for the large part, my disposable income
went to decorating my house. There were dragons everywhere. On
the wallpaper, the lamps, the end tables, and the walls. On the
wall opposite my bed stood a 3-foot high oil painting of
her. I had it done on commission from my descriptions, having
told the artist they were from a dream. I still don't know why I
surrounded myself with what had brought me so much sadness. I had
always loved dragons before, and so had she. We had often
fantasized about giving up our human bodies, both of us flying
off to start a totally new life.
The irony was disgusting.
Now I loved a dragon, and she was the one I loved.
I ate my dinner alone again that night, and drifted off to
sleep with her image in my mind.
A week later I was on the bank of the river again. This time
in the pouring rain. I doubted the drunks had been out at all.
The lack of wind caused the rain to come straight down, and it
wasn't long before I was chilled to the bone, even though it was
the middle of August. I was almost totally oblivious to the sound
of her alighting on the bank behind me, and so I fairly jumped
when she spoke.
~Not fit for man or beast tonight~
"Then why are we both here?" I replied with a hint of
sarcasm.
~What's wrong? You're not your usual chipper self~
Obviously I wasn't the only one capable of being sarcastic.
"Rough week at work, I guess. I had to spend quite a while
in emergency recompression with nothing to keep me occupied but a
copy of Margaret Laurence's 'The Stone Angel'."
~Ouch~
"I spent most of the time thinking of you, though. It hurt."
Her tone was almost angry this time. ~You've got to get on
with your life. Things can never be like they were before, as
nice as that would be. You of all people should realize that~
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you."
At this point she must have realized how wet I was, what
with no coat of scales to keep me otherwise. She made a soft
crooning sound and spoke again.
~You look like a drowned rat~
"I spend most of my week like this, remember?"
She lay down on the bank and beckoned me with one of her
talons.
~Come sit next to me~
I walked over and sat down beside her. She extended one of
her wings to give me a shelter and swung her head inside to face
me.
"Thanks," I said, with real meaning.
~Anything for you, Love~
It was then that I noticed something different about her.
There were patches of skin peeling from her wings, and her scales
were duller in places. There were pale spots on her flank where
whole layers of the protective plates had disappeared.
"What's wrong?" I asked, somewhat alarmed.
~Oh, that?~ I detected a note of humour in the voice. ~If
you can believe it, I think I'm moulting~
I laughed out loud and gave her eye ridges a loving rub.
~I've already lost about half the spines on my tail. That
should throw some people for a loop if they find them~
"I'll say."
I spent the next few hours there, tucked protectively under
her wing. We talked about old times, shared experiences, gains,
losses, and how we had grown apart over the past two years.
~You really should get rid of that ring~ She tilted her
head towards the simple band of gold which encircled my finger.
~It'll scare away any interested parties~
"So would you."
~You know what I mean~
"I could never see another woman as long as you're still
alive."
~And what if I met someone like myself, of the male
gender?~
"Then you'd have my blessing. You have a child to raise.
Besides, I'm still technically married to you. It's totally my
decision."
~I don't think they had this particular contingency in mind
when they wrote our marital vows~
"Maybe not, but I'll always love you. 'Till death do us
part...."
There was something sadder than normal about her parting
that night. As she crouched to take flight, she turned and winked
at me, threw back her head, and bellowed incandescent flame high
into the night sky. She knew that I found it emotionally
stirring. She exploded into the air and was gone in an instant. I
stood there, the rain once again soaking my clothes with nobody
to shelter me from it. Once more Alone.
Something caught my eye on the ground. I walked over to
investigate, and discovered one of her tail spines. About a
finger-width wide, and a little more than a foot long, it was
coloured a beautiful royal purple, and tapered to a fine point.
I bent over to pick it up and turned away from the clearing.
Next Saturday afternoon I was sitting in my armchair,
sipping a nice, warm mug of tea, when I remembered that the spine
was still in my jacket. I pulled the jacket off the hook and
fished the curiosity out of it. Boy, that point was sharp! You
could really do some damage with it if you weren't careful.
Suddenly my words from the week before came rushing into my
head with piercing clarity.
"'Till death do us part."
The words echoed in my head, and I suddenly knew how to end
my anguish.
I sat there for a moment, unable to believe I was actually
contemplating what had come into my mind. A strange mixture of
fear and excitement seemed to stop my heart in my chest, and
a ball of ice slowly materialized in my stomach.
What was I thinking?
I was thinking about unburdening the one I loved.
And myself as well.
I don't know exactly how long the drive was, but by the time
I got to the end of the road, my head was swimming with emotions
and thoughts dredged up by the time in the car. I had wrestled
with my doubts, trying to find reasons not to do what I was about
to.
I could think of none.
At the end of the gravel service trail I parked the car,
pausing for a moment to get my head together. I wore only a pair
of black shorts, and a worn pair of runners. The precious spike
was clutched in my hand. The keys to the car were tossed on the
front seat, and the windows were rolled up. If anybody wanted the
car, they could bloody well have it. With a final, gut-wrenching
glance at the direction which to me represented humanity, I
swallowed hard and set off into the woods.
I walked for hours, until the sun finally set below the
hills at my back, and then kept on walking. It was imperative
that I made it before she set off on her weekly trip to the park.
As I crossed the final half-kilometre of open headland before the
coast, I could hear the rhythmic pounding of the waves on the
ageless rocks below.
I had to be careful here. These cliffs were treacherous
under the best of conditions, and now, covered with salt spray
from the North Atlantic, the simplest falter could be deadly.
For the millionth time in the past couple of years, I wished for
wings, but that was foolish. If I had wings, I wouldn't be doing
this.
Finally I was down on the ledge, facing the opening of her
lair. A faint glow emanated from the inside and I stood there
listening. Silence. They must be asleep. I tiptoed inside, up the
incline to the small cavern that I had helped her sculpt.
Carefully I moved my head around the corner and watched the
sleepers.
The smell of the place was beautiful, slightly different
than her own smell, and I attributed it to the still bundle
asleep in the lovingly-constructed nest in the corner. The
remaining embers of a small fire glowed in the rough hearth, and
threw a warm light over the chamber. The same light reflected
beautifully off the myriad of peacock and teal scales as they
rose and fell in the rhythms of sleep.
Tears again welled up in my eyes, and I had to make a
supreme effort to keep from sobbing aloud. She would be waking
soon, and I hadn't much time. I gave a silent final goodbye to
the wife I could never wholly love, and my son, who would never
know, nor understand who his father was.
My family, estranged by fate.
Goodbye, my Love.
I went outside to the ledge, and raised the beautiful point
of the spine to my eyes. Silently, the wedding ring came off my
finger and slipped over the tapered end of it. The band slid
easily all the way down before stopping at the end. A touch
confirmed my suspicions.
It was stuck fast.
The tears stopped abruptly and I held that piece of her
aloft. The starlight reflected off the gold momentarily, and then
it came down.
I felt the spine penetrating my chest, my now-dying body
recording its passage with a strange sensation of not pain, but
coolness. I felt life leaving me, and slumped over onto my knees.
"So this is what it's like?" I thought. The entrance to the cave
spun crazily in front of my eyes, and then the darkness that
ensued when the last of the embers inside died spread outwards to
envelop me.
Presently I was aware of a strange sensation. I was
suspended over the mouth of the cave, looking down on my body. I
looked at the crumpled heap that I had once inhabited, and almost
laughed. So people had souls after all. I had often doubted that,
but here I was dead, yet somehow existent. What now? I thought
hard and decided to wait until she emerged, not that I had much
of a choice in this form. I couldn't really seem to move and it
would take me a while to get my bearings anyway. I really didn't
want to see her reaction and I was hardly proud of my deed.
"The act of a coward," I had always said. I just couldn't
take it anymore.
There was a scurrying inside the cave, and I was aware of
her moving in the short passage. She must have spotted the body
from about halfway out, because she was on the ledge almost
instantly, bending over the broken form. She stood there
incredulously for a moment, then fell back on her haunches,
apparently unable to believe what lay before her. She lovingly
arranged the body, then pulled the spine from its resting place,
examining the implement with which I had taken my final exit.
When she noticed the wedding band, she bowed her head and cried.
I'd never seen a dragon cry before, and it was the most
heart-wrenching thing I have ever experienced. For the first
time, I was really ashamed of myself. As she sat there, her
great head jerked up and down erratically with draconic sobs.
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and fell to the rock with
audible plops. Without warning she threw back her head and roared
her anguish at the night sky. The sound was almost indescribable.
The best I can do is that it was like someone had hit about
eighteen keys on a pipe organ, all in a minor key and none the
least bit chordal. It penetrated my airy form and a sent strange
sensation racing up my non-existent spine, radiating throughout
my former extremities. I could stand to see this no longer. I was
past regret for what I had done, and now I hated myself. I had
thrown away my life and hurt the one I loved. I screamed in
anguish of my own, throwing what would have been my head back as
I did so.
When my gaze returned to her, she was staring in my
direction, eyes wide.
Ghosts! Of course! I was a ghost! Maybe If she could see me,
I could apologize to her, and somehow gain some small shred of
peace for my tortured soul. She was still looking at me in
disbelief.
I made one motion toward her and was suddenly aware of a
weird feeling. I didn't expect moving like this would be that
hard.
~Ouch!~ I stubbed my toe on a rock.
Wait.
Back up there.
I was a spirit.
Or was I?
I looked down at my feet, yes, my feet, and saw that they
were covered with the same smooth scales hers were. I looked up
at my body and discovered that the rest of it was similarly
ensconced.
My hands.
They were taloned, just like hers.
She snapped out of her stupor and charged me, eyes glowing
with a fire I had never seen. I tried to take a step away from
her, but my limbs were clumsy, and I fell onto my back. Before I
knew it, she was on top of me, her arms clutching me so tight I
felt as if I would burst.
~I...~ the words tried to escape my muddled mind.
~Shhhhh...~ She silenced me and hugged harder. ~Don't wake
me up. This might be a dream~
I complied, and hugged her back as hard as I could with my
unfamiliar limbs.
~I'm sorry. I feel like such a cop-out~ I did.
~Well, Someone thought you did the right thing~
I hadn't yet thought about the how or why of the matter, as
I was still in shock. To this day I haven't really accepted a
single reason.
Perhaps Someone took pity on my anguished soul.
Perhaps it had something to do with where I got that spine I
drove into my heart that August night.
More likely to me, however, is the possibility that the
Soul has powers far beyond what we are presently aware of, and
that somehow, I tapped into that power.
We lay there, trapped in an embrace for what seemed like
eons and my new body suddenly interpreted her scent for what it
truly was:
Love.
Her love....
For me.
She helped me down onto the ledge and I looked at her for
approval for what I was about to do. She slowly nodded her
beautiful head and I turned to push the body off the ledge and
into the black darkness below.
We stood there for a while, staring out over the ocean,
our bodies touching on the narrow shelf of rock. When we turned
around to retire to the cave, we discovered a tiny dragonet
sitting in the entrance. He looked up at his mother for
assurance, then eyed me suspiciously. Our eyes met, and I knew he
understood.
~D... D... Daddy?~
I nodded my approval, and the three of us walked into the
cave together.
Eternally wishing for wings...
Jonathan C. Martin
[Don't ever stop, either! -ed]