The Blue Dragon

By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

Story Time Sunday #43

BIBELOT, FRESH FINDS

by K. HARTLESS

The Blue Dragon

By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

The statue sat on my dresser, just beside the large bay window facing East. It liked it there, the statue that is. I tried placing the heavy dragon rendering in several other places, but such a feeling of malevolence overcame me that I was compelled to move it until I felt it, the statue, was at peace.

Had I known what it was, even an inkling of what I knew now, I would never have allowed my older brother and his girlfriend to talk me into playing those childish carnival games. But, they were having so much fun and it was nice to see my brother laughing again, so I grudgingly agreed to play all of them and I won; all of them every time I played! It was very odd, but not as odd as the way the carnies watched me; especially when I started winning every game at every booth. To be honest, it even spooked me a little bit. Were they setting me up so I’d have to fork over a fortune to collect my prize?

By the time the games ended, a crowd made up mostly of carnies and their families, had gathered around. Watching. Waiting. It was just weird. I turned to ask where I should go to collect my prize and that’s when I saw it moving towards me. It was as though it floated about four foot off the ground until it came to a stop right in front of me and I realized one of the Asian women was carrying it reverently in her arms.

“For you. This for you,” she said bowing slightly.

The item appeared heavy. Extremely ornate with gold paint outlining every seam. The eyes were ruby red, I wondered if they were glass or plastic. At first glance I assumed it to be some cheap, plastic kids toy, but the way the woman’s arms trembled as she held it tightly against her breast, let me know it was really made of glass and possibly porcelain.

“I can’t take this from you. Is it a family heirloom? Really, a purple teddy bear will be just right for me,” I stuttered slightly as she dropped the heavy, very fragile blue dragon into my arms. It felt warm and inviting. Not cold and heavy as I had assumed.

“For you. Blue Dragon for you,” she said again before bowing deeply and retreating, the carnie crowd followed her. In the morning they would be gone, leaving only a dusty pasture behind.

This is how I was given care of the porcelain and very fragile great Blue Dragon. I had it appraised at one of our independent art galleries several days later and was told that yes, it was porcelain. Not the porcelain of our time however. The gallery owner estimated the piece was hand-crafted in China c. 340-278 BCE. He situated the statue into a foam padded box, patted my hand and told me not to tell anyone that the Blue Dragon was now placed in my care. His parting words froze me just as I was stepping out into the street; but, when I turned around to ask him what he meant, he was gone.

“May He rise while in your keeping child and avenge his wrongful exile and execution so very long ago.”