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The Owl

The Night Sky holds Mystery

By Michelle FrancoPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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The Owl.

By M.Olbrecht

Jon Howard grinned with pride as the majestic creature took flight. The owl circled the inside of the vast old barn twice before taking a wobbly landing on the edge of an old dented wooden table next to where Howard stood arms crossed. The owl straightened its stance on the table and shook its still slightly sore left wing. Howard lovingly caressed the wing. “You healed beautifully, still a little shaky, but I think that’s mostly nerves.”

Howard has been caring for the owl since he found her last season wounded in a trap right on the borderline between him and his neighbor’s farm. His dam neighbor Frank Jenkins, that maniac. The entire property line was booby-trapped with tripwires and large steel-jaw traps. And this poor creature found itself tangled up in Jenkin’s madness. Only it was not just Jenkins, the entire town had suddenly gone mad this past year. Crazy talk and paranoia were running wild. Guns shops were completely out of ammo, all guns on backorder, hell, even old man Kent’s little sword shop got cleaned out. Groups of people huddled on street corners daily spinning tales about dragons, the bloodthirsty evil was back. Dragons please, Howard thought, it’s been nearly two hundred years since one has been seen for real, surely, they are extinct, man made certain of that. Now every weirdo in town is seeing them, claiming they are back and this time humans will be wiped out. Howard tried not to think about it, he mostly kept to himself anyways and did his best not to get caught up in these fantasy discussions, he felt he was better off that way.

Howard scratched at the freckled bald spot that sat in the middle of his oily tangerine hair and then reached into the side pocket of his tan vest, pulling out a small gold watch. “Well Crystal, we got time before I hit the hay. You did such a splendid job flying around the barn. Now you want to try outside and fly the night sky?” He nudged the owl gently with an elbow. Crystal gave an uncertain look. “I’m going to say that’s a yes.” Howard flung open the barn’s auburn double doors and coached Crystal outside. The encouragement provided a boost of confidence and she shot up like a rocket into the sky her impressive wingspan almost blocking out the moon. “That’s my girl!” Howard yelled up at her. “Now bring it back in, we don’t want to overdo it.”

Three loud pops, like firecrackers, sounded off. The noise spooked Crystal and she took off out of sight. “Son of a bitch.” Howard grunted through his sealed lips. That asshole Jenkins is firing off his gun again and scared my patient. Howard grabbed a long black trench coat hanging on one of the hooks inside the barn and ran off after the owl. “Crystal, please come back to the barn!”

“I think we are late.” An old pick-up truck bounced around as it made its way down the dirt road toward town.

“No, it’s only seven now, we still have half an hour until the town meeting.” The passenger challenged the driver.

“No, look at the clock on the dashboard we are ten minutes late.” Hugh Evans’ dirt-encrusted finger pointed to the illuminated time in front of the two men.

“Oh boy, we are late, better step on it.”

Evans gunned the engine. His thin dark wrinkled face shot his commuter a thrill ride smile.

John Carter braced himself for full speed. His full-figured body layered in denim coveralls and a heavy green flannel shirt wiggled attempting to anchor into the tattered bench on which it sat. A spring let loose into his backside, its almost comic boink vibrated as the truck hit yet another bump in the road. “Ouch, let us try to make it there unscathed Hugh.”

“Sorry.” Evans turned the wheel sharply to avoid a small ditch.

Carter’s head slammed into the side window knocking off a flat hat. “Watch it, there are no seat belts in here, I’m rolling around like a bear on Jell-O lake.”

“This road by the Jenkins property is bad, but it’s the fastest to town, so just hold on.”

“All right just watch it.” Carter placed the hat on top of his snowy hair. “I should have driven.” He murmured.

Sounds of gunfire, rang out one after another. “Someone shooting!” Evans looked out the side window past Carter and towards the direction of the clatter.

Suddenly, something hit the windshield like a box of bricks. The force pushed the vehicle back at least twenty feet.

Both Carter and Evans looked forward at the windshield with astonishment. The glass was cracked, webbed, and bowed inward. And laying wings spread across was some kind of animal.

“A dragon!” Both shrieked in horror.

Evans quickly reversed his truck and then sped forward, releasing the beast to fall to the roadside.

“Quick get to town, we have to warn people.” Carter’s face was paler than it ever was before.

“Order, I said order.” Hazel Jones the town’s official moderator hit the gavel. “We will have order in this meeting or Sheriff Ken will remove you.” The scattered shouts turned whispers than silence. This was only Jones’ second meeting as a moderator, and it was a doozy. At age twenty-nine she was the youngest in the town’s history to take on the role of moderator following Clint Jackson’s retirement early that year. At her first meeting, she started to think she took on more than she could chew when Lewis Franco went on a rant about stray dogs messing with his livestock. She couldn’t get him to stop shouting, fortunately, Sheriff Ken was there or that man would still be gripping today. Now today’s meeting was going to be far more complicated than the issue of some stray dogs. Jones took a deep breath her chest rose and fell with her purple silk blouse. Her blond curls lay softly on her shoulders. “Thank you. Now we will hear everyone’s concerns tonight but one at a time, please.” She paused. “And hopefully put an end to these dragon rumors which have still proven fruitless.”

The moderator’s denial of the rumors caused an uproar in the crowd. “I said order.” She slammed the gavel. The noise ceased. “Now Mr. Mack please you were saying.”

A frail older man in jeans and a flannel shirt lifted the microphone from its stand and spoke into it. “Yesterday I found my second cow dead. Just laying with its neck ripped out just like the dragons used to do to people all those years ago.”

“They kill children.” Someone shouted from the back of the room. “That could have been a child.” Another yelled.

“But it wasn’t, it was a cow.” A man pushed passed the crowd up to the middle of the room. “A wolf could have done that.” Towering over Mack, the six-and-a-half-foot man in black corduroys with a perfectly molded athletic physique motioned for the mic. Mack handed it over without an argument.

“Mr. Wilson you are out of line.” Noticeable brow lines formed on Jones’ young face.

“Honey, you can call me Stu.” Wilson provided a wink and his lean cheeks turned rosy.

Ignoring his request. “Mr. Wilson you will wait your turn like everyone else.”

Mic in hand Wilson turns towards the crowd. “First things first, You’re all nuts!” He laughs. “Seeing dam dragons flying around. Cindy, you said you saw one, right?”

“I sure did, flew over my house last week.”

“Were you wearing those taped-up glasses you have on now or no glasses at all?”

“Well, I didn’t have my glasses on but I’m sure I saw it.”

Wilson fell into a chuckling fit.

The crowd broke out in whispers.

“Order!” The gravel hit as the doors to the meeting hall flung wide open.

“We just killed a real dragon!” The crowd turned to see Hugh Evans and John Carter standing in the doorway.

Wilson pressed his thin lips against the mic. “Really? Then where is it?”

“It’s on the side of the road by the Jenkins farm.” Evans managed to say between breaths. “Look at my truck the windshield is all damaged I hit it.” He pointed outside. The crowd rushed outside to inspect the truck. Wilson tossed the mic and followed.

“We were eyeball to eyeball with the thing. It really was a real, tell the truth no lie dragon.” Carter told the crowd.

Wilson viewed the damage. “You said it’s out by the Jenkin’s farm?”

Both Carter and Evan verified, “yes.”

“Then let’s go get it!” Wilson and the crowd dispersed.

“Wait!” Hazel Jones ran out in her skirt and heels. Sheriff Ken by her side. She watched as car after car took off. Feeling lost she looked up at Sheriff Ken for some direction. His dark skin glowed in the moonlight as he smiled down to her, “I better drive.”

“Well, where is it?” Wilson stood on the side of the dirt road next to where the pick-up truck had parked.

“Well, it was about here, wasn’t it Hugh?” Carter inquired.

“Yup about here,” Evans answered.

Others from the meeting began arriving and gathered around. Hazel Jones and Sheriff Ken showed up last and joined the group.

Sheriff Ken took out a flashlight and shined it on the road. The light traced tire tracks. “Well, I can see here where your truck was pushed back.”

Jones step forward for a closer look. “Yes, I see it,” she frowned. “Maybe you guys were right.”

Sheriff Ken shined his light out into the fields. “I don’t see anything out there.”

Wilson, “I got a light too I’m going to take a look around. Anybody else?” Jones walked towards Wilson.

Sheriff Ken stopped her, “Hazel stay behind me, if this is a dragon, we are dealing with these things have a bloodthirst for humans, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

She nodded in agreement and tucked herself behind him.

“Over here.” Shouted Wilson. “I found the dragon.”

Holding onto the Sheriff, Jones made her way to Wilson, fighting with the mud and her heels the whole way.

The shine of more than one flashlight glowed across the field’s mudding floor. “What the hell is it?” Jones asked.

“Is it a dragon?” Someone from the back of the group yelled.

“Crystal!! Crystal!!” Howard emerged from behind some crops. He saw his beloved owl dead in the muck below. He fell to her and sobbed.

“So, is it a dragon?” Carter asked.

“No, it’s not a dragon you fucking idiot, it’s my owl Crystal.”

“Hugh Evans hit it with his car,” Carter continued.

“You hit my owl?” Howard was inconsolable.

“Howard I’m really sorry about what happened?” Jones offered up.

“Hey what are you ya’ll doing out here? Did you see it too?” Frank Jenkins ran up to the town folks.

“See what?” Wilson asked.

“The dragon, I was shooting at it, I think I got it.” Jenkins jumped with excitement.

“There is your dragon.” Wilson pointed at the dead owl and burst into laughter and walked off.

“I thought you said Hugh Evans hit it with the pickup truck?” Howard looked up.

“I did. My truck is all messed up. Sorry, Howard.” He called back as he and the others made their way back to the parked vehicles.

Howard examined the body. Bullet hole, Jenkins shot her. Poor dear. Then what hit the truck? Howard saw something moving not far from him. He looked back at the group all were gone now, even Jenkins. He searched and there it was a baby dragon, broken from the impact. “Oh, you poor dear.” Howard took off his coat and wrapped up the dragon. “I will care for you and teach you to fly again.”

fantasy
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About the Creator

Michelle Franco

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