The Book

I'd been traveling around Melbourne for most of the day, looking at shops I hadn't seen before. Later on, I'd be heading out to my parent's place in the suburbs, but as an avid shopper, born and bred, I loved to search out places to conquer. Armed with some birthday money, I was wandering the streets alone, searching for the "hidden treasure" that was a second-hand book store or curiosity shop where I could browse contentedly for a few hours. There were a few interesting finds on the main streets. I found an op shop where I bought half-a-dozen tattered pulp horror novels for a dollar. I knew, however, if I were to find exactly what I was looking for, I'd have to leave the main drag and explore some of the narrow side streets. They were dirty, claustrophobic passages, but had an almost magnetic attraction to them. I knew that I would find the mother lode today.

Now, I'm not a timid girl, you must understand. But I'd had the dangers of walking the city streets alone drummed into me since I was old enough to wander off by myself. Sentences like "Sina, you could catch all sorts of filthy diseases down those alleys!" and "Sina, all sorts of creeps wander the city, all of them looking for a girl walking by herself!" So, you could see why I have a healthy caution about traversing poorly lit side streets by myself, and I usually take a friend, or my lover Julie, when I'm on a true treasure hunt. This day however, I was alone, having been in the city centre to drop off a country friend, and I'd been tempted by the shop fronts and the $200 birthday money burning a hole in the purse in my backpack.

My parents weren't expecting me back 'til late, and my "wanderin' feet" had finally got the better of my reservations about side alleys. Anyway, I don't think I'm cute enough to rape, or interesting enough to be written about in a newspaper's murder article. And in jeans, an old bowling cap, grey duffel coat and fingerless gloves, I definitely didn't look rich enough to rob. Heh. Turns out I was mistaken! But I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was still daylight when my quest was fulfilled. I'd walked down Little Collins Street, left down an alley from there, and into an arcade of sorts. I was peaked, because I didn't remember that alley being there, but after moving 15 times in 21 years, my sense of direction wasn't as good as it had been. None of this mattered anyway, because at the far end of the arcade, I saw a wire display basket. In it were piles of books, most with bright orange "SALE" stickers on the cover. The basket stood beside a door with "THE HIDDEN WORD" painted in simple white block letters.

The door was closed, but I could see a light inside. I didn't want to give up on an opportunity like this, but neither did I want to get caught trespassing. But then I steeled myself,

"Don't be stupid, Sina-babe! How often does a book store like this come along?" I pushed gently on the door, and sure enough it opened with the satisfied creaking sound that an old bookshop door should make. I stepped inside carefully, and called out, asking whether I could come in. After a moment of silence, I heard a shuffling from behind one of the bookshelves, which was soon followed by a small man peeking his aged head around the end of the shelf. His eyes lit up as he saw me, and he gestured frantically with an arthritic hand for me to come in.

"Shut the door! Make yourself at home! I shall be out in a second!" he cried joyously. "I do not get too many visitors these days! Come in! Come in!" I closed the door behind me, and waited in amusement as the old man shuffled out from behind the shelf, stuffing books and papers into various pockets of a long woollen jacket he had draped about his tiny form. He muttered cheerfully to himself as he came towards me, but didn't look up until the papers that had filled his arms were all in his pockets. By this time, he stood no more than a meter away from me, and I saw that his little bald head didn't even make it up to my shoulders. He looked up at me for a second as if lost in thought, and then patted my arm and wandered towards the shop counter, which was piled high with even more papers. As he got there, he looked back at me, still standing where he'd left me. He beckoned me good-naturedly,

"Good. Good!" he cried, looking me over again, "Come along then! I am sure you have questions before you settle down to a good explore through your newly found treasure trove!" I was frankly surprised by his voice. Instead of an old man's voice, his speech, although soft, was clear and pleasant to listen to. I couldn't place the accent. It was as if he didn't have an accent at all.

"You really don't get many visitors here?" I asked, "I mean, you're away from the main drag, but surely once someone has found this place, they would come back!"

"Oh, I am afraid that not too many people are brave enough to take that first step that you did, my dear," the old man said, motioning at the door. "Only those with a true love for books and a cat's curiosity would enter a closed shop... oh really, do not worry yourself about that!" he added quickly as I blushed and started to apologise. He sat down at the desk, and sighed reflectively, "I am afraid I am a little set in my ways at this late stage of life. I do things a certain way which does not always fit in with the way you people see them."

"How long have you been here? If you don't mind me asking." I inquired, curiously, "I'm sure that if you'd been here awhile, I'd have found you by now!"

"To be totally honest, I am not sure." The old man said in his wonderfully cultured voice. "The days pass by so quickly now, I never know where or even when I am." He paused thoughtfully, "Ha ha. Oh, of course I know *when* I am!" he added. "But I have kept you for long enough. You have a lot of browsing to do today. Find something you like, and we can work out a price." And with that, he walked past me again, and disappeared behind his bookshelf again, where the sound of papers shuffling began again.

Once he'd gone, I had a chance to more fully look around the shop. From outside, the store looked quite small and crowded, but when I stopped to look, I saw that the bookshelves hid more bookshelves, and there was an air of depth to the store that wasn't apparent from the doorway. With the old man busy again with whatever he was doing behind his bookcase, I decided to make the most of my time and wander the shelves. Maybe I would find a limited edition Stephen King book amongst the clutter! I soon realized that I wouldn't be walking straight to the horror section. There didn't seem to be any order to the shelves around me. Clive Barker rested next to Terry Pratchett. A couple of tattered John Saul novels made their home resting on top of Space, by James A. Michener. It was set out like my book collection at home, but I wasn't going to add to that collection unless I spent quite a bit of time wandering. But hey! I was quite willing to make that effort.

As I made my way towards the back of the shop, I kept an eye out for first editions, as well as a short story collection I'd been after for years. I made a couple of good finds. Creepshow, by Stephen King, was a comic I didn't own and snatched up immediately, and a couple of hardcover Discworld novels which would look good on my shelves. I also picked up a book of short stories by Terry Brooks, an author I'd always wanted to explore.

I was sucking on a few strands of my long, dark hair (bad habit I know. It's probably an oral fixation), and sifting through some old Mad magazines in a box, when a glint of metal caught my eye. Looking up, I saw a beautiful old book at my eye level. I'm not normally interested in older books, but the silver-embossed dragon on the spine of this leather bound volume made me take the book from it's shelf and take a closer look. Now, I'm not really up on my leather knowledge, but I'd never seen anything with this texture or strength to it. And although the cover was a dull green, as I looked closer, I noticed a shine coming from specks of a bright, shining jewel throughout the cover of the tome. I tried to find a title, but the regal dragon was the only adornment on the cover. Curious now, I sat cross-legged on the shaggy rug covering the center of the aisle, and opened it to the first page...

...The next time I looked up, I was surprised to see that the shop's overhead lights had come on. They were a charming old-style lantern, but with a glow so bright it must (must it?) have been an electric light. I could see a small skylight above me, but no light. With dismay I realised that it must be dark outside. I would have to walk home in the dark. I stood up in a slight daze. I was so engrossed in the book, I had lost all track of time.

But what had I read? Thinking back now, I have only the vaguest memory. I know it swept me along, the tale of a dragon and his life through the outskirts of reality. I knew the exhilaration of wheeling through the clouds. I felt his grief as others of his species were hunted and slain by "fearless" dragon hunters. I experienced his sorrow as technology and science began to take the place of fantasy and imagination, chivalry was overtaken by feminism, and presidents and movie stars replaced heroes. I know when I stood up, my cheeks were wet with tears. Looking down at the book, I saw that there were only a few pages left. Although I have forgotten the rest of the book, I would never forget the last pages. I decided to finish the rest of the page, before buying the books I wanted (this one now included).

"The dragon alighted on the roof of the building. This was his final chance. He had travelled continents to find this store. Trailing clues and snippets of information, from persons both mortal and immortal. Stories of the Keeper, the one who traversed the globe, who knew all the fantasy creatures, and took solace in their vast experience. And sometimes, gave advice. If the old man couldn't help him, then he was doomed. There simply wasn't enough belief in the world for him now, and nowhere for him to go where he could live unafraid and uncontested. The Keeper was one of the Timeless, like himself. If anyone could help, it would be him. He was the one the dragon had entrusted his Life Book to, and already the old man had selected someone to bestow guardianship of the Book upon."

"The girl Sina had a real love for books, and when she realized the value of the green leather book she was reading, made from a length of his own hide, he was sure that she would care for it. She already was in love with his life..."

I looked up in shock. No way could this be happening! My first reaction was that it was a trick. But, thinking about it, there was absolutely no way that so many different factors could be brought together. I found the shop by chance, went in by chance, picked that particular aisle and found the book, all by chance. You can't plan that sort of thing. But the alternative was absurd! Wasn't it? I dunno. Maybe 10 years ago, I could believe that. And now, of course. But at the time... Well, the book put forward a pretty convincing case. Either way, there was no way I was leaving without that book!

I gathered my collection of books, with the green leather-bound book balanced carefully on top, and made my way to the front counter. I called for the old man, but there was no answer. Moving over to the shelf behind which the man had disappeared earlier, I peeked behind. There was a table there, with many books, and even some tattered scrolls, strewn around the area in what the old man would surely have called "an ordered mess". But that was all. I looked out the door. Night had well and truly fallen by now, and my parents would be worried. I was still a little phased by the book, and wanted to get home to examine it closer. I looked around the desk, and found an old fountain pen, and a piece of blank paper.

"Dear sir,

I have taken 5 books from your shelves, including an old green leather-bound tome. I've left a 20-dollar bill attached to this. If this isn't enough, please call me at home, and I will happily come back and pay the rest."

To this, I signed my name and added my phone number, as well as the names of the books I had taken, and a description of the green book. I carefully put the other books in my backpack, but decided to carry the leather book. There were lampposts along the footpath, and I wanted to finish those last few pages. I silently said goodbye to the shop, and the old man, wherever he was, and left. The electric light, so harsh after the soft warm light of the store, gave me plenty of light to read by. It was habits like this that meant that I needed to wear glasses. I opened the book at the page I had left off, and started to walk home, reading as I went.

"Sina left the store. She was nervous, but soon calmed down. Reading can take your mind off anything, and the girl was quickly taken in by the words she read, words about her, in a book about the dragon. She re-traced her steps unconsciously, heading back to the buzz of the main streets, and relative safety."

"The dragon perched atop an old library roof, not far away. Sadness penetrated his majestic heart as he surveyed the progress of the girl below him. The old man was gone. There were still other fantastic creatures in the world. The old man wanted to gain insight from them before this rational, technological world stole them away from him. The Keeper had been unable to answer his questions. Some mythical creatures had made their way to the jungles of Africa and South America (too hot), some to the frozen wastelands of Greenland and Canada (too cold). The depths of the ocean held wonders man had only dreamed of, as did the catacombs and tunnels deep beneath the earth. But creatures of the moderate climes - the centaur, the unicorn, and himself, among others - had to share their earth with humans. And there was no place in the human world for him any more. A steaming tear rolled down one of the dragon's scaly cheeks. He watched as the shop front faded away, replaced by a plain brick wall. Gone."

"The dragon shook his great head irritably. There was no time for reflection now. He was needed, maybe for the last time in his long existence. His acute hearing picked up footsteps in the alley behind Sina. She'd be able to hear them herself in a minute."

I looked up, listening. I realized that I had been reading with total belief, just accepting the words flowing from the page, and when I'd read the last passage, I stopped reading because I expected to hear the footsteps the book had talked about. Sure enough, as I listened, I heard soft padding of feet behind me. Sometimes a crunch, as the person following stepped on a Styrofoam cup or piece of paper, but all the time getting closer. Scared now, I picked up my pace, and was alarmed to hear the footsteps behind me increase in speed as well. I started to run, and a voice shouted from behind me:

"Stop her, Drake!" It was a male voice, rough and mean, but the man hadn't pursued me, just yelled. Right in front of me, a huge shape filled the alley. Another man stepped forward and I ran into his arms before I could stop myself. The other came from behind, and cut off any escape I might have had in that direction.

"Pretty young thing isn't she?" leered the big man, pulling my hair back painfully so that my face was to the light.

"I'm more interested in what she's got in that bag of hers." Snapped the other. He stepped closer, and I opened my mouth to cry out. Suddenly, a cold metal blade rested against my throat with a 'click'. The big man had a knife at my neck, and instantly, crying out was the last thing on my mind.

"One word, and I'll open you up from neck to navel, pretty one!" snarled the hulking crook. "It makes no difference to me, either way." I nodded carefully, and the blade relaxed slightly, but still rested against my neck. The smaller man came forward again, and grabbed the bag from my shoulder. He looked inside and grumbled in annoyance, "There's nothing in here! Bloody horror novels, fantasy books, women's crap!" he tossed the books to the ground, and kicked them, prompting a gasp from me, but the knife tensed again, and I didn't say anything. I looked on in dismay as the bastard rummaged through my bag, angry and hurt. He paused in his rummaging, and then grinned, pulling out my purse.

"What do we have here then?" he asked me. He flicked open the wallet. Of course, the rest of my birthday money was still in there. My eyes filled with tears as he pocketed the $180 and started to flick through the rest of the pockets, tossing away anything that he considered valueless, including the picture of my girlfriend and my collection of movie tickets. Once he'd stripped it of worthwhile items - my credit card, video cards, even a condom I kept in there (I doubt I'd ever meet a guy who could do for me what Julie can, but just in case) - he tossed the purse over his shoulder, and turned his attention back to me.

"Now what are we going to do with you?" he grinned, and I realised that maybe I wasn't going to get out of this unscathed after all. The other man said from behind me,

"Can we play Mike?" and placed a hand on my breast, groping. I cried out in fear and disgust, and the grope became a pinch, silencing me. The thin one, Mike, thought a while, then shook his head.

"We better go. We've got the money. Better that we don't get caught." The other wasn't so eager. They argued briefly, and I thought I might get away once the knife relaxed again. Drake lifted his arms in an angry gesture, and I made a break for it. Mike yelled his surprise and reached, but I thought I'd made it. Then the back of my head exploded in pain, and I was jerked off my feet. Drake had grabbed my hair and yanked. My scalp was on fire with agony, and I cried out from the ground. In an instant, Mike was over me. He kicked me in the ribs, and I doubled up, gasping. He leant over me, and his mouth was inches away from my ear.

"You stupid bitch! Try that again, and I'll cut out your heart and feed it to you!" Out of the corner of my eye I saw Drake move over, perhaps eager to inflict pain of his own, but Mike held up a warning hand, "OK. Listen very carefully" he said in a low warning voice, "I'm going to have a little conversation with my friend Drake. If we decide to kill you, you're dead! If we decide to rape you, Drake will play his little games, and you will wish you were dead! We might even let you go! But you're going to roll onto your stomach now, and read your precious little book. If I see you move, or if your eyes lift from those pages, you'll be the cause of a nasty blood stain there on the asphalt!" he stood up, and kicked me onto my front. I winced, and then opened the dragon's book up in front of me. When he was satisfied I wasn't going to move again, he straightened and walked over to the shadowy hulk that was Drake and they started to argue in a low voice about what was to become of me.

I was terrified! Shaking in fear, I didn't dare move, and my eyes were soon drawn to the book lying in front of me. I read slowly while the argument became heated in the background.

"At last, the filth had moved away from Sina. Petrified, she read, and listened. Finally, with no other choice, she trusted fully in the book. Reality had been suspended completely, and now she could hear something over the ugly sound of the brutes' argument. A scattering of pebbles hit the street from above, and she heard a stirring..."

The argument had finished. I heard footsteps coming towards me, and Mike's voice grinned its way into my worst fears:

"Well, deary, it's your lucky day! Drake doesn't get his go at you. Bad news is, we can't exactly leave you to run off telling the pigs about us either! So, I'm going to have to kill you!" He didn't sound all that sorry, and my heart skipped a beat. The stupid thing was, the thought that went through my head at the time was: I want to finish the book! I went back to the pages in front of me, and continued to read, resigning myself to my fate.

"In the darkness of the alley, a huge shape glided down between the tall buildings to the alley below. It slowly descended, wings outstretched and silhouetted against the light of the city reflected off the smog in the sky."

Mike stepped one foot over my still body. I heard the scrape of metal on leather as he withdrew a knife. He chuckled, and I could envision his eyes, coldly calculating where best to strike. There was a pause, presumably for him to raise his arm for the strike, and I think I may have squealed. Then in front of me, I heard a sizzling sound. The smell of melted tar reached my nose. Mike gasped.

"In front of the murderous fiends, the dragon dropped to the street. His skin, heated by the fire of rage, turned the road underneath his claws to liquid. The dragon took a deep breath, his golden-green chest expanding. His neck rippled, and his scaled nostrils flared. The dragon, lord of the mystical creatures, reared back on his powerful hind legs. His wings expanded, pressing against the sides of the alley with a force that cracked the bricks on both sides. The knife dropped from numb fingers as the vermin standing over Sina let his jaw drop. The other was backing away slowly, moaning under his breath. He could see the tail of the dragon whipping catlike from side to side, as the fabulous creature looked from one to the next, his horned brow furrowed, considering which would die first."

I heard the crack of the walls, the deep intake of breath, and then both of the men screamed. It was a mortal scream, high-pitched and totally futile...

It seemed a furnace had been opened just above my head. I heard the flame roar over me, and the thin crook was thrown backward by the force of the flame. He, or his charred corpse I guess, fell with a thud about two meters behind me. I could hear the crackle of his flesh. He had stopped screaming as soon as the fire hit him. The smell of burning flesh hit me, just before a wave of nausea so strong I almost threw up. Behind me, the second man had run, pounding off down the wider of the alleys. That was his mistake...

"...The dragon crouched, and sprung. He cleared the smaller alley

...There was a rush of air, a second beat of wings, and then I heard a final scream that I still hear in my nightmares. There was a ripping sound, and then a wet thud. I couldn't look up. I couldn't even think. I wanted to see the dragon, but... I also didn't want to see him. I went back to the book, as a shallow comfort...

"...The dragon slowed his flight, gracefully coming to land and folding his wings behind him. He looked back over his shoulder at the prone figure on the road. Sina did not move, but he knew she was all right. He was not. The dragon had made a decision after speaking to the Keeper. He would not continue in this world. It scared him. Worse, it* offended *him. What place did he have in a world where the human felt he was lord and ruler? They killed the whales (sea dragons, as he thought of them) for their fat, and made ointments from that to enhance or disguise their scents! Their machines and buildings spewed poison into the air, and they called that progress! Violence was a way of life, war was rife, and that spilled over into other aspects of their life. No longer did lovers marry for life. Every second relationship was doomed to failure. He had always admired love as a virtue in the human race, and it hurt to see that diminished. No. He would not suffer this world any more!"

"There were other places for him to go, the other world, where he could sleep, and wait. He knew there were still people like Sina around, with a care for the world, and a love of imagination. Maybe in the future, the human race would be like that again, and he would come back. Resolutely, the dragon stretched his wings, and leapt upward, pulling his wings downward to give him the lift he needed to take off. His silhouette shrunk into the distance, and then faded into nothingness."

"Now, there is only the book."

That was the end of the page. My heart thrumming in my chest, and tears streaming down my cheeks, I stood up, pulled the book to my chest, and ran for light and safety.

***********

My parents had gone out for the night! With trembling fingers, I tapped out the phone number for Julie's house on my phone, but she was at a concert somewhere in the sticks. Her mother asked, concerned, what the matter was, but I could only blurt out "Bye!" and hang up. I ran into my room, and threw myself on the bed. I think I must have been in shock, as I shivered constantly for an hour, before I slipped in between the sheets. The warmth of the bed covers soothed me, and in seconds, I was asleep.

The next morning, I was awake with the rising of the sun. I dressed quickly and ran to the train station, heading back into the city. Once there, I made my way quickly to the alley where the shop had been. As the dragon had noticed, the shop was gone. I searched frantically around the wall, looking for another way in, but there was nothing. I wanted to know what had happened, was afraid that I already did. I started to walk away, head hung, when I noticed a coloured piece of paper, weighted with a small, slightly glowing stone. I picked up both, feeling the warmth of the stone, and putting it in my pocket, where it where it nested softly, only a thin piece of fabric separating it from my skin. The stone I had made into a pendant, and wear it always. The piece of paper was a message from the old man:

"Precious Sina," it began, in a gentle flowing script, "you have just survived a frightening ordeal, and you must be very confused about certain things that have happened. Everything you read was real, or reality as you know it, but surely you understand this by now. Beyond that, perhaps there are no explanations. Please do not fear or sorrow for the dragon. He will return. Not in your lifetime, but that is not a long time at all for creatures like us.

"The bodies of the ruffians are gone (there are still mystical beings that exist happily in a human environment) and your personal belongings and books are around the corner. I know you will have a long, fulfilled life, and I believe that you will continue to love your imagination and the books that feed it.

"Take one final look at the book. It still has something to tell you."

His signature was scrawled illegibly underneath, and glowed with a fire that consumed the paper without burning my hand at all. The ashes were whisked out of my hand, and sailed upwards and out of my sight.

I turned my attention to the book. It hadn't left my grip since I got home, and I had carried it here today unknowingly. It fell open at the last page when I lifted it. On it, the words sat patiently, waiting to be read, so I started at the top, and began to read.

"Books have power. Some think that you read the book, but a good book will read you as well. And if you love the book, and if you need help, then the book can help you. There are many kinds of power in the world. Physical power can move mountains. Spiritual power can help others reach God. Charismatic power allows you to lead nations, but the power of your imagination lets you create the mountain, discover God, and gives you the strength to move your nation to bigger and better things."

"Sina reached the last paragraph and prepared for the end, knowing in her heart what she would find when she flicked back through the pages she had read..."

I looked up from the book and turned back a few pages, but the book was right. These words belonged to the Life Book of the dragon, and he was gone. Sure enough the words that had saved me last night were fading away now. If the book hadn't held a final message for me, they would have evaporated last night. I needed to finish the book. I raced the disappearing ink to the last page, determined to beat the fade to the conclusion. The last words melted into whiteness as I wept upon the concluding paragraph.

"The words were almost gone; gone with the dragon. A great thing had happened that night. Sina cried, but they were tears of gratitude. Because in the end, once in awhile, there comes a point where everyone lives happily ever after."

THE END