Polyrhythm

There weren’t always Dragons in the valley.

Or so I’ve been told. I can’t imagine a world without dragons in my classroom. Grandpa doesn’t speak of those days often, but the icy stares he gives Hazen say enough.

I slid down along the staircase railing with my earphones in hand until I saw Grandpa at the bottom of the staircase. I immediately dismounted from the railing and walked the remaining steps. Grandpa is silently peering through the window blinds. Every morning he inspects the street, continually adjusting his angle to search for intruders.

“Bye Grandpa, I’m going to school.” I spoke. He either did not hear me without his hearing aids or was too focused to respond. A reactive cheek muscle pulled the left side of my face into a weak smile, which I am sure went unnoticed.

While putting on my shoes I glanced at the mantle, filled with war medals and photos of Grandpa with his friends from the air force. He was only 18, a couple years older than me, when he was drafted into service. Grandpa wears a permanent scowl unless his war buddies are visiting, so I know better than to ask for stories. I turned up the volume and headed out the door.

At the end of the block, Hazen was waiting for me. Hazen always waits around the bend of the street so that she doesn’t feel Grandpa’s scrutinizing gaze. Hazen is my best friend and a dragon. She is about as tall as a German Shepard, but her torso is round enough that her underbelly spills out from underneath her. Her scales are a metallic orange with greenish spots speckled across her body. Like most dragons, Hazen’s neck winds back then forward, approximately a foot above the rest of her body. Although she has wings, they are disproportionately small, and she is unable to fly more than a few feet at a time.

Hazen pulled her mouth back into a smile. Dragons do not naturally smile. Some of the younger dragons like Hazen have tried adopting the gesture to fit in and put humans at ease. However, Hazen still needs much practice. The dozens of razor-sharp teeth and wide eyes in front of me look more threatening than friendly.

“Max’s before first period?” Hazen asked slyly, already knowing my response.

Like Grandpa, Hazen and I had a daily ritual. Every day before class, we would stop by Max’s Music Center to check out the newest bands, instruments, and merch.

I nodded to Hazen then changed the song on my phone. Erratic Consumption (Extended Version) by our favorite band, Hemiola. I turned up my volume to 100. I always blast the volume on my headphones when I am with her. I know it isn’t good for my ears, but dragons aren’t able to wear earphones. They do, however, have exceptional hearing.

As the bass decrescendo ’ed and the rhythm guitarist began to his solo, Hazen stood up on her hind legs and moved her claws to mimic the chords. Although dragons do not have guitars or even thumbs, she has been obsessed with learning to play since we first met.

I could tell we were both thinking the same thing since we have discussed it a million times. Hemiola’s timing and polyrhythms are unmatched.

When we arrived at Max’s, we immediately went to the same display we always visit first. The Superstrat BHTT30 with American basswood body, roasted maple neck, and black finish. The same model the lead guitarist of Hemiola plays.

I began to suggest ways we could acquire the immaculate instrument to my dragon friend, but when I looked over, her gaze was fixed elsewhere today. On a Battle of the Bands poster on the wall. I became curious and took a closer look. I could see it was a valley-wide invitation. The first thing that stood out about the poster was the bold gold words, First Prize Winners Open for Hemiola on Tour!

Hazen was hypnotized by the opportunity. The flyer was out of her reach, so she leaned up against the shelf below to read the details.

Crash! A loud thud was accompanied by the shattering of glass

Then silence.

Hazen had leaned too far against the shelf, causing it to come crashing down. All eyes were on Hazen.

The store manager broke the silence. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?! GET OUT! YOU AREN’T WELCOME HERE ANYMORE!” She seethed.

My friend nervously bolted towards the door as instructed but paused in the doorway to apologize. “I’m so sorry, it was an accident. I can help clean.”

“Out!” The manager reiterated. “Well, what are you waiting for?!”

“I can’t open the door...” Hazen said sheepishly as she raised a claw.

I snapped back to reality and quickly moved to the door. I grabbed the handle, pulled it open, and held it for Hazen.

As the door slowly swung close, I overheard the manager whisper to a customer. “What did she even want with the poster? It’s not like dragons are even capable of playing instruments.”

“Why would it even need to come in the store? It would be funny to watch a dragon try to play the guitar though.” The customer replied, causing a few laughs from the people within the store.

I faintly caught the conversation through my muted earphones. Dragons, however, have exceptional hearing.

Hazen walked hurriedly away from the store with her eyes glued to the ground until I stopped her in place.

“Look at me. Not only are we going to find a way for you to play guitar, but we are also going to open for Hemiola.” I said with certitude that surprised even myself.