Dragonfly

By Elizabeth Creith

Sara and Jess climbed the bank of the stream, wet rubber boots sliding on the clay.

“That was a good afternoon,” Jess said. Her multi-pocketed safari vest bulged with pebbles, plant samples, folding carpenter's ruler, magnifying glass, pencils and two notebooks.

Sara wiped clayey hands on her pants.

“I always like sloshing up a stream with you,” she said. It was true. Jess had a keen eye for anything biological or geological.

“I think I'm going to do my school project on debris patterns in streams this year,” Jess said. She was the science whiz of the eighth grade. Teachers loved her. Other students hated her. Sara was her only friend, but Jess didn't seem to feel the need of another.

“I think I'll do a rock collection,” Sara responded. “I've already got a dozen different kinds just this afternoon, thanks to you.”

Jess pulled out the fatter of her two notebooks, the one with “Biology” written on the cover in black marker, and wrote something in it. She replaced it and pulled out the second book. The word “Mythobiology” straggled in shaky calligraphy across the cover.

“I don't think either moly or mandrake are growing anywhere near this stream,” she said, “I'll have to try the creek on the other side of the woods next. Maybe I need a polarizing lens or something. And no more than the usual number of dragonflies for a stream, so no dragons.” She made another note. "I really have to research a dragon repellant. We're still small enough to be prey."

Sara rolled her eyes but said nothing. Jess's meticulous scientific streak was balanced by her odd belief that mythical plants and beings were real, and needed only correct observation to be discovered. It was an amusing quirk, as far as Sara was concerned. Jess was always good for a serious little lecture on the habitats of manticores and the dangers of uprooting mandrake. As if they existed.

They strolled across the sunny field, waist-high in goldenrod in its full September bloom. The woods were dark green and cool-looking. On the other side was a cow pasture, and then the farmhouse where Sara lived. Her mom would have lemonade ready for them. Sara felt thirsty just thinking about it and began to walk faster.

Suddenly Jess stopped, staring at an insect hovering in front of her.

“What?” Sara said. She could almost taste that lemonade. Please, not a biology lecture now.

“It's a dragonfly,” Jess whispered.

“So?”Sara asked.

“Shh, not so loud!” Jess began walking again, “and just move slowly, okay?”

“Aww, Jess, not a myth-whatever now, I'm sooooo thirsty!” Sara tugged on her friend's hand, “Please, let's hurry.”

Jess jerked her hand away.

“Don't!” she said, hardly above a whisper, “Keep quiet, move slowly, we'll be okay. Don't you know what a dragonfly means?”

“No. Should I? We saw lots at the stream and you didn't get all weird.”

“That was at the stream. There's no water here. Look – horseflies hang around horses, right? Deerflies hang around deer. Dragonflies....”she raised her eyebrows.

Sara began to laugh. She spun on her heel, swishing her hands through the goldenrod, scanning the skies.

“I don't see a dragon. Do you see a dragon?” she said, “Hellooooo! Dragon!”

“Shut up! You can't see them. They have camouflage – their underneath scales blend with the sky, like a chameleon. You'd never see it until it swooped down on you – maybe not then.”

“Oh, that's a good one, Jess, the best yet! Invisible dragons!” Sara stopped spinning, “Okay, I'll play. Let's race the dragon to the woods!” Sara bounded off through the field, golden spikes of flowers nodding in her wake. Jess looked anxiously up, even though she knew it was no good.

If Sara could get to the woods, she'd be safe – the dragon was too clumsy to fly among the trees. Maybe she'd be lucky; there was only one dragonfly. Then five or six zipped past Jess and hovered briefly before skimming across the field.

Jess dropped into the weeds, tucking herself into as small a ball as she could. She'd be safe – the dragon wouldn't flame. It would be hunting, not fighting.

Nothing happened. She could hear the swish of Sara's legs in the weeds, fainter and fainter. Maybe, she thought, it would be all right.

Then a shadow glided over her, and she saw the flicker of not-quite-right sky that was the dragon in flight. She clamped her hands over her ears to shut out Sara's brief scream, but her whole body quivered to the thump of the dragon's impact as it struck.

She lay curled tightly, hoping that when it had fed, it would leave without looking for her.

[end]