Edgar, the dragon slayer – part 2

Flash 29
If you haven’t read part 1, it’s here.

“Aren’t dragons normally really into treasure?” says my dad. “Dubloons and gold stolen from pirates!”
My mother rolls her eyes. “There used to be a pawn shop next to The Cavern,” she says.
“I remember that shop,” says my dad, wildly waving his cigarette and narrowly missing singeing our terrified cat, Marilyn. “I bought your engagement…” he trails off, wide-eyed.
“You told me my engagement ring was an antique!” says my mother. “You told me it was a family heirloom!”
“It was somebody’s family heirloom,” says my dad, sheepishly.
“I am starting to wonder if everything in this marriage is a lie,” snaps my mother, snatching my father’s cigarette out of his mouth. “And isn’t it time you quit smoking, you’re almost fifty.”
“Ruby,” says my dad, plaintively.
She sighs. “Goddamn dragon! Leonard, just tell me you didn’t buy this house on eBay because it’s on top of an old Roman burial ground or switch Edgar at birth in the hospital and we’ll move on.”
“I promise,” says my father.

I have had about as much as I can take of the two of them. I think I’d rather face the dragon.
“Hold on,” says my dad as I make to leave. “The dragon gave me this as part of the deal.”
He undoes a string from around his wrist and hands it to me. There is a large, yellowing tooth hanging from it.
“Weren’t you naked when you met the dragon?” asks my mother. “Where did you keep the… you know what, I think we’ve had enough revelations for one day. I don’t want to know.”

When I get back to The Cavern, it’s deserted. There is obviously no show tonight and the alley behind the club is oddly eerie. It’s rained and steam is rising from the hot tarmac. I feel like an idiot but I take out the tooth and hold it up. It takes on a bluish glow and I hear the sound of giant wings flapping. I look up and I can see the dragon slowly descending on the alley. I suppose I should worry about people seeing it but this is Camden. No one notices anything.

The dragon lands in front of me and gives a little shake before settling and folding its wings. This time I manage to get a closer look at it. It’s about the size of a moving van and rather than being the kind of regal, elegant creature, I had always been lead to believe dragons were, this one looks a bit like a Tyrannosaurus with wings.

“Oo’re you?” it says in a surprisingly East End accent.
“Um, Edgar,” I say.
“Where’s the drunk fella?” he says looking around. “’Im with the ‘air. It was ‘im I gave me tooth to.”
“My dad?” I ask.
“Yer dad? Jiminy Christmas, ‘ow long ‘as it been?”
“Twenty-six years.”
“’E still alive?” asks the dragon. “Rate ‘e were goin, I figure ’e’d a kicked the bucket by now.”
“He’s fine,” I say. “You have my girlfriend and I want her back.”
“Look, mate,” says the dragon. “There’s been a birrova mix-up. Yer dad promised me a first-born, righ’? An’ I been ‘angin’ around this shit’ole waitin’ for you to turn up fer years. Lost track of time completely. Not like I got much choice anyway. There ain’t a lorra caves about London, innit? Figure, like father like son. When you and yer missus come down ‘ere eventuallym I didn’t pick up any of that rock ‘n roll aura from you, so I figured she must be yer dad’s kid. ‘Oos yer mum anyway? Bet ya don’t even know!”
“Don’t you remember what you promised my dad in exchange for me?” I ask. “You told him you’d make my mother fall in love with him.”
The dragon chuckles. “I ain’t got no power ova love. Isn’t no one what got power ova love. What I promised yer dad was that ‘is ‘air wouldn’t ever fall out. See ‘ere it is in ‘is contract.”
And the dragon presents piece of paper in his claw.

I’m not sure what I’m more shocked by, the fact that my dad traded me to keep his ridiculous 80’s hair and forgot about it or that my mum has put up with my father for twenty-six years without any magic.

“Look, where’s Elle?” I ask.
“She’s in the basement of The Cavern, your missus. We been talking these past coupla days. She’s worried about you, she is. Says that you’re afraid to be yourself. She says you’re obsessed with being normal when you ain’t got a normal gene in you.”

And I am in an alley… in Camden… negotiating with a mythological character that sounds like he’s from Hackney and all I want is Elle and for everything to go back the way it was. Suddenly I’m very angry.
“I don’t give a fuck what you and my dad agreed. Just give me back my girlfriend!”
“Bleedin’ ‘eck,” says the dragon. “Calm yerself down. Look, you can ‘ave yer missus back but I’m gonna ‘ave to take you now. I gorra contract, you see.”
“And do what with me?” I ask.
The dragon shrugs. “I ‘and’t really thought about it, mate. Yer dad’s the only geezer crazy enough to ever make a deal with me. Guess I could get ya ta ‘elp clean up round The Cavern, like. Make cups of tea.”
“Cups of tea,” I shout. “You’re a fucking dragon, for fuck sake!”
The dragon laughs again and lets out a wheezy cough, punctuated by a puff of smoke.
“No room for any dragonin’ around ‘ere anymore, lad. The knights are all actors and ‘ippy musos tryin’ ta save the world these days. The castles are tourist attractions and the treasure’s been credit crunched. I’m in me retirement.”
“Well what then?” I say. “I’ll come and live with you in the basement of this pub and make you tea. That’s ridiculous!”
“Actually,” says the dragon. “I might be able ta cut you a deal. ‘Ow do you feel about a quest?”