Dragons and Fireworks (309 Words)
I found Grandpa talking to the salesman. They were leaning in the shade of the porch. It was early afternoon and hot for mid-July.
“It’ll be good to get back,” said the salesman. “You haven’t seen anything like it. The city’s always alive.”
“Oh I’ve seen it,” said Grandpa. “My daughter and the kids went to see the fireworks in D.C.. We spent a weekend there.”
The salesman nodded. “A small town’s alright,” he said. “But you don’t get sights like that.”
“We see stranger things.” Grandpa saw me and waved me over. “Tell him, kiddo,” he said. “Tell him about the dragon.”
“The dragon?” I said.
“Well,” said Grandpa. “Maybe you don’t remember. It was a dragon alright, the color of a ripe tangerine out there behind Bob’s antique shop. It was looking for gold.”
The salesman’s face bent in an awkward smile. “A dragon?”
“Sure as I’m breathing,” said Grandpa.
The salesman checked his watch. He held out his hand. “I’d better be going or I’ll miss the bus,” he said. “Thank you for your hospitality. It’s been a pleasure. You have a wonderful family, Mr. Vane.”
“Why, thank you,” said Grandpa. He had a funny way of accepting compliments, as if he were really surprised and touched by them. “I hope you’ll stop by again. Maybe you’ll get tired of those lights and noise, and see a dragon or two yourself.”
I watched the salesman walk down the street. When he was gone, I turned to Grandpa.
“Why did you tell him that stuff about the dragon?” I said.
“You didn’t have to tell him a lie.”
Grandpa leaned back in his chair. “Whether you believe it or not,” he said, “I really did see a dragon. And so did you. But there never was any gold in this town, and that’s why poor Emma Cliff lost her best silver.”