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The Dragon Rock
This story begins with Once Upon A Time, because the best stories
do, of course.
So, Once Upon A Time, and imagine if you
can, a steep sided valley cluttered with giant, spiky green pine trees and
thick, green grass that reaches to the top of your socks so that when you run,
you have to bring your knees up high, like running through water. Wildflowers
spread their sweet heady perfume along the gentle breezes and bees hum
musically to themselves as they cheerily collect flower pollen.
People are very happy here and they work
hard, keeping their houses spick and span and their children's faces clean.
This particular summer had been very hot
and dry, making the lean farm dogs sleepy and still. Farmers whistled lazily to
themselves and would stand and stare into the distance, trying to remember what
it was that they were supposed to be doing. By two o'clock in the afternoon,
the town would be in a haze of slumber, with grandmas nodding off over their
knitting and farmers snoozing in the haystacks. It was very, very hot.
No matter how hot the day, however, the
children would always play in the gentle, rolling meadows. With wide brimmed
hats and skin slippery with sun block, they chittered and chattered like
sparrows, as they frolicked in their favourite spot.
Now, their favourite spot is very
important to this story because in this particular spot is a large, long, scaly
rock that looks amazingly similar to a sleeping dragon.
The children knew it was a dragon.
The grown ups knew it was a dragon.
The dogs and cats and birds knew it was a
dragon.
But nobody was scared because it never,
ever moved.
The boys and girls would clamber all over
it, poking sticks at it and hanging wet gumboots on its ears but it didn't mind
in the least. The men folk would sometimes chop firewood on its zigzagged tail
because it was just the right height and the Ladies Weaving Group often spun
sheep fleece on its spikes.
Often on a cool night, when the stars
were twinkling brightly in a velvet sky and the children peacefully asleep, the
grown ups would settle for the evening with a mug of steaming cocoa in a soft
cushioned armchair. Then the stories about How The Dragon Got There began.
Nobody knew for sure, there were many different versions depending on which
family told the tale, but one thing that everybody agreed on, was this:
In Times of Trouble
The Dragon will Wake
And Free the Village
By making a Lake
This little poem was etched into
everybody's minds and sometimes appeared on tea towels and grandma's
embroidery.
The days went by slowly, quietly and most
importantly, without any rain. There had been no rain in the valley for as long
as the children could remember. The wells were starting to bring up muddy brown
water and clothes had to be washed in yesterday's dishwater. The lawns had
faded to a crisp biscuit colour and the flowers drooped their beautiful heads.
Even the trees seemed to hang their branches like weary arms. The valley turned
browner and drier and thirstier, every hot, baking day.
The townsfolk grew worried and would
murmur to each other when passing with much shaking of heads and tut tuts. They
would look upwards searching for rain clouds in the blue, clear sky, but none
ever came.
"The tale of the Dragon cannot be
true," said old Mrs Greywhistle, the shopkeeper.
"It hasn't moved an inch, I
swear," replied her customer, tapping an angry foot.
It was now too hot for the children to
play out in the direct sun and they would gather under the shade of the trees,
digging holes in the dust and snapping brittle twigs.
"The Dragon will help us soon,"
said one child.
"He must do Something," agreed
another.
"I'm sure he will."
They all nodded in agreement.
A week went by with no change, the people
struggling along as best they could. Some were getting cross at the Dragon and
would cast angry, sideways looks at it when passing. The villagers were becoming
skinny eyed and sullen.
Meanwhile, the children had a plan.
Quickly and quietly, they moved invisibly
around town, picking and plucking at the fading flowers. With outstretched arms
and bouquets up to their chins, they rustled over to where the giant rock lay,
as still as ever.
The boys and girls placed bunches of
flowers around the Dragon in a big circle. They scattered petals around its
head and over its nose, then danced around and around it, skipping and chanting
the rhyme that they all knew so well.
In Times of Trouble
The Dragon Will Wake
And Save the Village
By making a Lake.
The searing heat made them dizzy and
fuzzy and finally they all fell in a sprawling heap at the bottom of the mound.
They looked up at the rock.
Nothing happened.
A dry wind lazily picked up some flower
heads and swirled them around. The air was thick with pollen and perfume. A
stony grey nostril twitched.
"I saw something," cried the
youngest boy.
They stared intently.
An ear swiveled like a periscope.
The ground began to rumble.
"Look out! Run!Run!"
The children scampered in all directions,
shrieking and squealing, arms pumping with excitement.
The rumbling grew and grew.
The Dragon raised its sleepy head. It got
onto its front feet and sat like a dog. It stood up and stretched, arching its
long scaly back like a sleek tabby cat. It blinked and looked around with big
kind, long lashed eyes.
And then its nostrils twitched and
quivered again.
The older folk were alerted by the
screams and shrieks. The ladies held up their long skirts to run and the men
rolled their sleeves up and soon the whole town stood together in a tight
huddle at the foot of the hill, staring up at the large beast with mouths held
open.
"AHHHHH AAHHHHHHHHH!!"
The noise erupted from the Dragon.
"AHHHHH AAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
The families gripped each other tighter
and shut their eyes.
"AHHHHH CHOOOOOOOOO!!"
The sneeze blasted from the Dragon like a
rocket, throwing it back fifty paces, causing a whirlwind of dust and dirt.
"AHHHHH CHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
The second blast split open the dry
earth, sending explosions of soil and tree roots high into the sky like
missiles, and something else too ...
The people heard the sound but couldn't
recognize it at first for it had been such a long time since their ears had
heard such tinkling melody. As their eyes widened in wonder, their smiles
turned into grins and then yahoos and hoorahs.
Water, cold, clear spring water, oozed,
then trickled, then roared out of the hole, down the hillside and along the
valley floor.
The torrent knocked over a farmer's
haystack, but he didn't care.
The river carried away the
schoolteacher's bike shed but she cared not a jot. It even demolished the
Ladies Bowling Club changing rooms but they howled with laughter and slapped
their thighs. When the flood sent pools of water out towards the golf course,
filling up sixteen of the nineteen holes, the men just hooted and whistled and
threw their caps up in the air.
What used to be a dirty, brown dust bowl,
now gleamed and glistened in the sunlight, sending playful waves and ripples
across the lake and inviting all to share.
"HMMMMM," sighed the Dragon
sleepily, and showing his perfect movie star teeth. "Seeing as I'm awake
..."
And he lumbered forward with surprising
grace and style and disappeared into the cool dark water with a small wave of a
claw and flick of his tail.
They never saw him again.
After the families had restored and
rebuilt the village, and set up sailing clubs for the children, and scuba
diving for the grandparents, they erected a bandstand and monument in the spot
where the Dragon used to lay. Every year to mark the occasion, they would bring
garlands of flowers and herbs and arrange them in a big circle. The children
would have the day off school, for it was known as 'Water Dragon Day' and
wearing the dragon masks that they had been working on all week, would skip and
clap and sing.
The Dragon helped Us
As We said He would Do
Hooray for The Dragon
Achoo, Achoo, ACHOOOO!
And that is the end of the story.
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