IX

Lee watched from his garden-lawn as Balto flew overhead. It was well into the afternoon Lee realized as he finished watering a particularly dry set of flowers, but the man was happy to have the young dragon as a guest again. He smiled weakly, put on a pot of tea, and waited on the porch for Balto to arrive.

And he did. Balto arrived much, much sooner than Lee was expecting. He had barely gotten comfortable by the time he saw the dragon limping up to the gate, crying to himself…

...with a deep bruise on the side of his head and a choker-collar around his neck and a dragon-star hanging from it.

“What happened?” Lee almost got out, but Balto was already rushing over, stumbling over himself and crying, “Please help me! Take it off! Take it off take it off take it off!”

“Calm down. I’ll grab my cutters,” Lee whispered, heading inside. He scavenged through his gardening closet until he found a small, single-handed pair of bolt cutters. He had only ever needed them for cutting the occasional padlocks around town when someone needed them.

The dragon paced frantically through the lawn until Lee returned.

“Take it off take it off take it off…” the dragon repeated it over and over again until the solid clink! of metal being cut apart rang in his ears and the freedom of breath returned to him once more. He chucked the collar across the yard, tangled in the fence, and began hissing in its direction like it was a snake.

“Calm down, calm down,” Lee said, placing a steady hand on Balto’s head, right on the newly formed bruise. It hadn’t been there when he had left Balto before. The collar hadn’t been there either, but Lee couldn’t decide which was more distressing. “What did those boys in Dursly do to…”

“It was him! It was Father...no…” Balto’s eyes filled with tears and he growled to himself, baring his teeth at nothing but what was in his mind. “Mr. Humphrey…” Balto snarled, voice cracking with hatred and profound anguish. “He...he...he says he owns me! No one owns me! I own me!”

Balto looked at Lee, lower jaw quivering.

“No one...no one owns me, right?” Whatever hatred was behind Balto before was overcome and replaced with pain...a broken heart...confused love and loyalty warring against feelings of betrayal and hate.

“No one owns you, Balto,” Lee answered. “Come inside. I have tea on.”

Balto nodded and followed Lee inside. Inside was a homey living room of framed pictures over a fireplace mantle, furniture for plenty of people. The place smelled like outside but somehow...lonelier, like the air was rarely disturbed and left to settle more times than it should have been.

“You...you have a nice home,” Balto mentioned, finding a spot beside a loveseat to place himself. The carpeted floors were soft and thick and were comfortable to lay on at least, and the coffee table was well within reach.

Lee came back in with a tray of tea and its assorted additives. He placed the tray on the table and said, “You can sit on the couch if you want. I won’t have a guest sit on the floor.”

Balto looked at the loveseat precariously before hopping up and settled down on the cushions. He hadn’t been on something so soft in so long…

“And you can take that off, if you want,” Lee added, pointing at Balto’s harness.

Balto didn’t hesitate to toss it to the floor, a loud thud coming from it.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Would you like to take a nap? I can’t imagine you slept very well last night.”

“I’ll sleep later,” Balto replied. “I...I actually wanted to show you something before I go.”

“What is it?”

The dragon reached down into his satchels and pulled out two items: a map and what looked like a photo album.

“I wanted...I wanted to give these to you,” Balto said, placing his stamp collection on the coffee table. Lee opened it to the first set and began to deny the gift before Balto interrupted him and added, “They’re...they’re not really mine...they’re not mine. They’re mine because I was allowed to keep them, but they’re not mine. I want my...what are they called? I don’t like calling them hoards.”

“Collection?”

“Okay then. I want my collection to be mine. I want you to have them while I figure out a way to replace your book. I...I didn’t get to finish it and Fa...Mr. Humphrey burned it up.”

Lee sighed, shut the album. “I’ll keep them for you.”

“Thank you...and if they end up going missing…” The dragon sighed and finished, “...I won’t really miss them.”

Lee eyed the map that Balto had close to his chest.

“And that?”

“Oh…” Balto held the map out and set it on the table. “Can...you draw me a route to Washington?” Balto saw Lee’s apprehension, forced a smile, and said, “Not for running away. I just...want to know how to get there, ya know? I want to see that I can do it on paper. I want to feel like...I have somewhere to go when I get older.”

Lee nodded. “I know. Here.”

The man took a pen off the nearby stand that had his phone on it, and opened the map up. He drew lines and made notes and drew more lines.

“Thank you…” Balto mumbled. “Thank you so much…” The dragon leapt off the couch and collided with Lee, placing his head in the man’s chest and both front paws around his ribs in a makeshift hug. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to see you again soon. No one’s ever been this nice to me before. Thank you for not treating me like someone’s pet…”

Lee smiled and placed his arms around the dragon’s head, watching out for his horns.

That’s enough crying. It’s time to be a big dragon. Dragons don’t cry.

“You’re not a pet, Balto.” The embrace lasted until Balto finally stopped crying on his own and Lee asked, “Final cup of tea then? And how about I take a look at your leg?”

Balto nodded and let his friend Lee pour him a cup of tea...with milk.

+++

Balto, sitting with his injured hind stretched forward in a sturdy, homemade splint, watched fields of corn transform into a vast open landscape of grass that would come up to his shoulders just as the sun was hitting the horizon, spreading hues of orange and red and warm yellows in infinite directions across the dimming blue sky. Balto watched in amazement, never having appreciated any sunsets until then. He had always been frantically flying home for dinner when they were happening.

But now he was free to watch.

Free to look at the sunset.

His first sunset.

His first free sunset.

The rumble of tracks beneath him and the roaring locomotive ahead of him did little to deter the feeling the sunset had on him…

...the feeling of the harness on him did though.

Balto tore the shredded harness off his back and looked at it, full of anger and fear...but something like happiness too...

You don’t own me…

“No one owns me…” Balto said, letting the harness and its pouches and every parcel of mail he had brought slip lazily out of his grip and fall away from his vagrant’s railcar.

He felt lighter.

He could breathe.

He felt like he could make a real smile again…

...and so he did…

The dragon smiled.