“No, you do it. You’re the one who suggested we come here, Davis.”
“Well now I’m not so sure. People say some pretty weird stuff about the Reptile Man.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before we got to his doorstep?”
“It all seemed like made up stuff, but now I’m wondering if it’s true. People say that he’s got toads in his bathtub, salamanders in his kitchen, and boa constrictors that hang from the chandeliers.”
“Well that’s not too bad, I suppose. It’s just like being behind the glass at the amphibian exhibit at the zoo.”
“No, they say he’s part reptile too, that he’s got slits for eyes and a forked tongue like snakes do.”
“Whoa that is scary. Perhaps we should-“
“Hello,” said an old man as he opened the front door, “What can I do for you boys? Did I not hear the bell? Go on, boy say your piece.”
“We came to see the Reptile Man,” Davis squeaked.
“Why I’m not a Reptile Man,” said the man opening the door wider as one takes a deep breath before giving a lecture, “I’m a herpetologist. That includes amphibians too. Amphibians sadly no longer are appreciated in zoological academia. It has come into practice to let youngsters brutalize them with scalpels. Now of course, dissection is necessary for a proper grasp of anatomy, but these younglings never remember the capacity of the lungs or the shade of the liver. They just remember that they got to cut into something that was once living. Poor amphibians have fallen so far. Anyway, come in, come in. You’ve come to see me and here I am. Come in quickly now so the snakes don’t slither out. What are you names?”
“Ben.”
“I’m Davis.”
“Well Ben and Davis it’s nice to meet you," said the Reptile Man in gruff yet friendly voice, "Nothing to be scared of. Come let’s sit down in the living room.”
He led them into a dark room with a tacky jungle wallpaper that seemed to move when you weren't looking. The boys carefully watched where they tread, for tails slithered across the wood floor and lizard feet scuttled to and fro.
Summer's light trickled in though the slitted windows and several reptiles gathered in its pools.
“Well at least he doesn’t have slits for pupils,” whispered Ben behind the Reptile Man’s back as he stepped over an iguana.
“No, but his goatee is forked like a snake’s tongue,” said Davis quietly.
“Come, come sit down on the couch. Oh wait! Let me move Gertrude she likes to hide in the cushions. Grass snakes like somewhere dark to sleep. Where’s Alfie when I need him? He’s my two hundred-year-old tortoise. He makes a rather comfortable footstool. Sit down, sit down. Now what is it you’ve come to see me about?”
“Well, sir,” said Davis tentatively, “We found something, but we’re not sure what it is. It seems a scale of some sort but it is impossibly large. It fills up the palm of my hand.”
“Have you got it with you?”
Ben nodded and pulled it out of his pocket.
“A scale hmmmm?” murmured the Reptile Man, “Yes that’s exactly what it is. See how hard it is, yet a bit pliable. Yes, I am familiar with this. I have one just like it stored away in my study.”
“Is it common then?” asked Ben sounding disappointed.
“No not at all. Extremely rare. Did you find it at that house down the road? Whitewashed with blue shudders?”
“Yes,” said Ben, “That’s my house. There’s this tree outside my room and I meant to climb down it to escape. See my mom sent me upstairs because I punched my brother, but boy did he deserve it. Well I found the scale lodged deep in one of the branches, took a lot of wiggling to get it out. Gave me plenty of time to notice that there were also lots of gouges and slashes across the tree and parts of it were black as though it had been burned.”
“That’s definitely the place,” said the Reptile Man, “Did you know that a pair of children used to live there? They are probably all grown up now, but no doubt they still remember. They came to me just like you when they found the scale, or rather the thing that it belonged to.”
“What did they find?” the boys chorused together.
“Well let me tell you first what they found odd,” said the Reptile Man, “On a hot summer day, walking back no doubt from the creek or the ice cream shop, they saw smoke rising from their chimney, or rather, what is now your chimney, Ben. Caroline and Avery, for those were the children’s names, thought this very odd. I assume you both have lived here a while and know how stifling the summers are. Avery said to his sister,
‘I wonder if Mrs. Potterfield forgot to turn off the gas again.’
‘You don’t suppose she could burn the house down do you?’ Caroline, the younger, replied, ‘I just bought a whole bag of saltwater taffy with the last of my allowance. It's in the pantry and it would be a shame if it were lost.’
So the children hurried home to examine their fireplace.
‘There’s not even a fire here,’ said Avery poking the logs, ‘They aren’t even warm.’
‘But smoke is still coming out of the chimney. Do you think it is broken?’
‘No, something must be up there.’ Just then a whir like a firecracker went off somewhere in the flue.
‘Perhaps this is where father stores the fireworks for the Fourth of July,’ said Caroline.
She gasped.
“A fat orange tail dipped down over the logs and then wiggled as if the body it was attached to had slipped and was trying to scurry up the chimney again.
‘What do you think that was?’ whispered Avery.
‘No idea,” said Caroline, ‘do you think if we ask it nicely what it is, it will tell us?’ “Such a silly child, I hope she hasn’t changed. I will remember her as long as I live. She called up the chimney, ‘Halloooooo, excuse me, but what are you?’ When there was no reply she thought that whatever-it-was could not hear. ‘Hello? I’m Caroline and I’m a little girl, though I’m not that little at all. I am the tallest in my class. What are you?’ When there was still no reply Caroline let out a big sigh.
“Now this sigh stirred up the cinders and lifted them into the air and up the flue. These cinders found their way to the nose of the whatever-it-was and tickled it until it sneezed. Flames accompanied this sneeze like the flames that accompany rocket launch, and propelled the whatever-it-was into the logs of the fireplace with a resounding fiery crash, like when a tower of building blocks topples over. Caroline and Avery saw that the whatever-it-was was actually a baby dragon.
“Now boys, I judge by the looks on you faces that you may not believe me, but here I hold its scale in my hand. Not to mention there is my credibility as a herpetologist. Why I was one of the founding members of the Herpetologists’ League. Trust me when I say such things exist. The scales made a believer of me.
“Anyhow, where was I? Oh, Even though it was covered in soot, the baby dragon still seemed to gleam orange and its little wings were tucked closely to its body.
‘Oh, are you alright?’ asked Caroline rushing to the baby dragon’s aide, but when she touched its hide she jerked her hand back, ‘Ah! He’s hot!’ The baby dragon shook himself free of soot then pressed himself as far as he could to the corner of the fireplace.
‘We won’t hurt you,’ Caroline cooed in spite of her blistered hand. Avery stood shocked. He had expected anything but a dragon to fall out of that flue.
‘Tell us,’ said Caroline kindly, ‘What were you doing in our chimney?’
“The baby dragon quaked, though he was much bigger than Caroline, about the size of an English mastiff, he was still very afraid.
‘I fell,’ he said in his little dragon voice, one that I would have been blessed to hear.
‘You couldn’t have fallen down the chimney,’ said Avery finding his brain again, ‘there’s a cap on top to keep the birds out.’
‘No, I crawled up the chimney. It reminded me of my cave with my mother and family.’
‘Well why don’t you tell us how you fell,’ said Caroline.
‘My mama was teaching me how to fly,’ said the baby dragon, ‘She said that I would be fine so she let go. Then I fell.’
‘Dad told me the same thing when he was teaching me to ride my bike,’ said Avery, ‘He had to fish me out of Mr. Thompson’s hedge.’
‘Now I don’t know where my mama is and I’m very hungry,’ said the baby dragon.
“Ben, don’t look so worried,” said the Reptile Man, “Delilah is as docile as anacondas come. She’s just giving you a friendly little squeeze.
“Anyhow, the baby dragon was hungry.
‘I’ve got some salt-water taffy in the pantry,’ offered Caroline, ‘Would you care for some?’
“The dragon nodded his head, though I seriously doubt that he knew what saltwater taffy was. Perhaps he did not wish to be rude or perhaps he was truly very hungry. Caroline went into the pantry and got the taffy, though she had to sneak past Mrs. Potterfield to do it.
‘Here you are,’ she said unwrapping a big wad of the taffy and laying it upon the ground. The baby dragon took the candy up in its mouth and began to chew, but it soon grew stringy and gooey is his mouth because he had melted it without meaning to. He opened his jaws wide, perplexed with the strange sticky substance. When he licked his dragon lips the goo trailed along and he felt very messy.
‘Perhaps something to drink?’ said Caroline seeing the dragon’s discomfort. He nodded and she sneaked past Mrs. Potterfield once more and went into the kitchen. Soon she brought back a glass of lemonade and tilted it into the mouth of the baby dragon. But when the cold lemonade touched the dragon’s tongue it hissed wildly and the baby dragon seemed to panic. He ran into coffee tables and armchairs in his distraction. A vase crashed to the ground and the children heard the steps of Mrs. Potterfield.
‘Quick!’ said Avery, ‘We must hide him!’ So the children threw a blanket over the baby dragon and corralled him to sit back down on the fire’s tiled threshold.
‘What on earth!’ said Mrs. Potterfield bursting into the living room, ‘Were you two roughhousing?’ She began to pick up the pieces of the shattered vase.
‘It was an accident Mrs. Potterfield. Promise,’ said Caroline.
‘Well I’ve cleaned it mostly up now. Do you- do you smell something burning?’ The children-wide eyed, shook their heads.
‘Oh! My cinnamon muffins!’ gasped Mrs. Potterfield and dashed back into the kitchen. Though, I’m positive that the cinnamon muffins were not at all burned, though the same could not be said for the blanket.
‘He’s burnt holes through it,’ said Avery poking his finger through one of them.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Caroline.
‘I’m sorry,’ said the baby dragon.
‘No, I’m sorry,’ said Caroline, ‘I almost put you out. What is it that baby dragons eat?’
‘Peppers.’
“Peppers?” said Davis.
“Yes, peppers,” the Reptile Man replied, “The fires that dragons produce are chemical ones. They live mainly on peppers and spices (with supplement meats). That is why there are several deadly dragons in South America, where they grow the hottest pepper in the world. Dragon hide has a relatively low Ph and can neutralized the chemical reaction to the point of containment without extinguishing it entirely. However, a dragon fire, since it is a chemical fire is especially tricky to put out. The baby dragon was not really in danger of being put out by the glass of lemonade, but poor Caroline didn’t know that.
‘Do you think we can find him some peppers, Avery?’ she asked.
‘Would that be a good idea? He could start more fires and dad would get onto us for playing with matches.’ Avery saw the baby dragon, I think, as a dragon while Caroline merely acknowledged that he was a baby who needed mothering.
The baby dragon began to cry hot tears like acid. They fell to the floor with a hiss. He really couldn’t help but cry. He was just a baby and could only handle so many traumatic things in one day, and the idea of another minute without a meal greatly upset him.
“He let out strange gurgling cries and the children tried to hush him kindly, but the baby dragon’s sobs only grew louder. Then a thunder seemed to shake the house.
‘Mama?’ said the baby dragon immediately drying his eyes.
‘Where are you?’ boomed the thunder.
‘Under the roof! Under the roof!’ said the baby.
‘Alright, watch out I’ll rip the roof off.’
‘No, don’t do that!’ cried Avery.
‘Is someone with you, little dragonling?’
‘Yes!’ replied the baby dragon, ‘two humans.”
‘Filthy humans,’ said the mother dragon from above, ‘I’ve told you how I got that nick in my ear from that misunderstanding with that knight. He’d thought I’d stolen his maiden fair, but it was she who walked right into my lair. I had nothing to do with it. What use is a princess anyway?’
‘We aren’t knights we're children,’ shouted Avery hoping this point would be their salvation.
“Aren't knights? Children? I've never heard of children. What use are they?," asked the Mother dragon.
"I don't know," replied Avery, "I suppose to make adults appreciate their parents more."
"I have no use for children then. Give me my little dragonling. Send him out now or I'll burn the house down!"
‘Alright alright! We just need to get him out. Wait a moment and you won’t need to rip the roof off.’
‘I’ll climb up the chimney, mama,’ the baby dragon said, but with many scurries and scratches failed in the attempt.
‘What should we do?’ asked Caroline.
‘Well have to take him out the backdoor. It’s the only one that’s wide enough. I’d be afraid that his heat would melt the locks.’ said Avery.
‘But what about Mrs. Potterfield? She’ll see us and you know how she hates it when we bring creatures home.’
‘What I’m more concerned about,’ said Avery, ‘is the dragon’s feet. They’d burn and scar the floor. Mom would never forgive us for that.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Caroline, ‘Well we’ve just got to find something that’s meant to handle heat. Of course! Oven mitts!’
The children poked their heads in the kitchen door, praying or luck and thick oven mitts. They saw that Mrs. Potterfield was taking in the potted plants as though expecting a rather nasty thunderstorm.
‘She must’ve heard us and the mama dragon. I suppose she thinks we’re just playing,’ said Avery.
“You mean that Mrs. Potterfield didn’t think that something strange was going on?” asked Ben.
“No she did not,” said the Reptile Man.
“Wow, she must have been really thick,” said Davis.
“No I wouldn’t say that. The whole world turns after all, even when we aren’t looking.
“Anyhow, when Mrs. Potterfield went back outside to fetch more plants (Thank goodness the poor dear didn’t look straight up or else she probably would have had a heart attack what with the mother dragon and all) the children scurried into the kitchen and grabbed two pairs of oven mitts. They slipped them carefully onto the baby dragon’s feet and led him as he waddled off the tile threshold.
‘Now mind your tail and be careful not to bump into anything,’ said Avery, ‘And stay as light on your toes as you can.’
‘If only I could fly,’ sighed the baby dragon.
The dragon swished along the floor not unnoisily, and Avery turned to hush him repeatedly.
‘Go quickly and quietly past the kitchen door,’ he said to the baby dragon, ‘Don’t let Mrs. Potterfield see you. Caroline keep watch.’
Mrs. Potterfield was busy closing the windows and curtains against the darkened sky. The mother dragon was so large, it seemed, that she blotted out the sun. The smoke from her mouth made the air thick with a humid gray fog.
‘Alright her back is turned go now!’ said Caroline.
They all darted past the door and Mrs. Potterfield was never the wiser. What they had forgotten, however, was Tank.
“What’s Tank?” asked Davis.
“Tank was their father’s old hunting dog. He was large and droopy, but still in a way noble. Tank was lying on his bed, a worn out sofa cushion, just beside the back door. When he saw the baby dragon he rose wearily from his bed and bared his teeth, a deep growl rumbling around in his chest like a steel ball in a vacuum cleaner. The old dog lunged and bared his yellowed teeth. With a hissing snap he caught the baby dragon's tail in its mouth. Tank let out a yelp of pain. The dragon's tail had burned his tongue as if he had bitten into a too hot pizza.
"Tank?" called Mrs. Potterfield, "What is it boy?"They heard her footsteps from the kitchen.
‘Run!’ hissed Avery as he threw himself at the door and lurched it open. The baby dragon scuttled outside and the old Tank charged at him again swiping with his leathery paws and releasing harrumphing howls. Avery grabbed the dog around the waist and held him back with all his might. He saw Mrs. Potterfield's wispy gray bun bobbing toward them. In a blink she would see the baby dragon!
"Go!" said Avery kicking the air and fighting with Tank as the old dog barked and snapped.
Caroline tripped out after the dragon and shut the door behind them both just in time to evade Mrs. Potterfield, who reprimanded Avery for playing too roughly with the old dog.
‘Mama!’ the baby dragon called to the gray smoky sky ‘I’m coming.’
‘I can’t see you. Where are you?’ rumbled the sky.
‘Here I am! I’ll get up higher so you can see.’
“The little dragon scrambled up a nearby tree, the oven mitts flinging from his claws. He scraped his way up branch by branch (which was much easier than a chimney’s neck) till Caroline could hardly see him through the leaves.
‘I still can’t see you little one,’ said the mother dragon.
‘I’ll jump to you!’
“The baby dragon leapt from the highest bough and stretched his orange wings. Caroline said she had never seen anything so extraordinary in her life. The baby dragon flew.
‘I suppose,’ she said to me, ‘that mothers really are the ones who inspire their children to fly.’
“Little Caroline waved goodbye to the dragon, happy that he was reunited with his mother and would soon have all the peppers he could eat. She looked down at the ground because her neck ached from looking upward for so long and saw that the baby dragon left behind one of its scales, there lying in the grass. It glowed brightly for a minute or two but then grew brown like a coal burned out and is the twin of this one.”
“That is an amazing story. How did they know to come to you?” asked Ben.
“They knew me from the zoo,” said the Reptile Man, “They’d come every other Saturday. They were so happy to have something to share with me for once, I think. I had told them stories of my trips to the Amazon, but those adventures seem pale in comparison to theirs.”
“It’s hard to believe that children would have ever been so nice as to give away a dragon’s scale.”
“Yes, it was very kind… very… very kind.”
“Do you still work there at the zoo?” Davis queried.
“No, no, no I … retired some time ago.”
“Oh, why?” asked Ben, “Why not get paid to do what you love? It seems as if your work is already home with you.”
“That can’t be proven. Those litigations were dropped. The empty cases were a mystery to all of us at the zoo. In my opinion the animals ate each other.”
This outburst puzzled the boys, and they each wondered where exactly all these amphibians and reptiles came from.
“Ah! There’s something in my pocket!” cried Davis just as an uncomfortable silence was settling in.
“Take it out. It should be safe,” said the Reptile Man, “That’s Nellie, she’s my Eastern Indigo. She likes to slither into my pocket and go along for the ride. I think she gets tired of crawling on her belly all the time. She’s one of my favorites, but nothing, nothing would have made me happier than to see that baby dragon. Wonders truly are wasted on the young. Well, it’s feeding time. I don’t suppose you’d like to-”
“No, no thank you,” stammered the boys, “but we’ve got to get some dinner ourselves.”
“Alright,” said the Reptile Man, “Go on out the front door and if anyone tries to tell you that dragons don’t exist just look them square in the eye and say that they do. Myths have to come from somewhere after all.”
“Goodbye,” said the boys as the closed the front door behind them.
“Wow, can you believe it!” said Ben, “a dragon scale! Wait… it seems not to be in my pocket.”
“That’s strange. Do you think it might have slipped out? Did you not put it back in your pocket?”
“No, the Reptile Man was holding it the whole- Did you hear the lock click?"
