With Feeling Read online

  With Feeling

  Title

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  With Feeling

  Victoria Beasley

  A Story Shares book

  Easy to read. Hard to put down.

  storyshares.org

  Copyright © 2021 by Story Share, Inc.

  Victoria Beasley

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Story Share, Inc.

  The characters and events in this book are ficticious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Story Shares

  dreaming up a new shelf in the global library

  storyshares.org

  PHILADELPHIA, PA

  ISBN # 9781642612233

  Printed in the United States of America

  storyshares.org

  Chapter 1

  The whine of the fire alarm woke me up at three AM. I knew what was happening: the dragon had begun to hatch. I pulled on my flannel bathrobe as I ran to Avery’s room. The wood-paneled hall blurred as I ran. My feet went numb as they pounded the freezing floor. I slowed when I saw the light stretching from under Avery’s door. I paused here. Should I go in? I wondered. I want to, and as her care-taker it is my job.

  I stepped forward. The light coming from her room covered my feet. It was warm. I wiggled my toes until I could feel them again. Wait, I thought. If it’s this warm out here...

  I opened the door without knocking, prepared to save the day. Instead, I took a step back.

  Avery sat on the floor with a long, oval egg. It glowed, covering the usually dark room in dim light. It also gave off lots of heat, and I started to sweat. Avery looked up at me out of the corner of her eye. She’d pulled her short black hair into a tiny ponytail. She wore a grey tank top and black shorts. Normally she’d wear a sweater as well, since it was winter. But the bedroom was too hot now.

  “Do you need help?” I asked. “Should I get hot water or towels or something?”

  Her eyes narrowed and she turned back to the dragon’s egg. Typical Avery.

  “Well, then, you won’t mind me watching?” I asked, knowing she wouldn't reply.

  Suddenly, a loud crack came from the black egg. A cloud of smoke rose from a fist-sized hole at its top. Green slime oozed from the hole onto the floor. The room began to smell like burning rubber.

  “Avery, get back!” I took a step forward to drag her away. She threw a plastic cup at me.

  “No,” she ordered, squinting into the hole. “I’m the expert here, so you will listen to me.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise. Listen to her? This was the most she’d ever talked to me. And we’d been living together for a week! She is the expert, I thought with a shrug. Her parents were dragon scientists. She must have grown up around the beasts.

  “All right, just…be careful,” I said, backing up to the door. “That dragon is government property. They’ll have both our heads if anything happens to him.”

  “Ah yes, ‘finders keepers,’” she sniffed. “I’ll do my best, Agent Peters. But I haven’t actually done this before. No one has.”

  All I knew about dragons was what I read in the report file. Dragons lived in the mountain where we now stayed. Avery’s parents studied them, but dragons were private animals. The dragons and the Chases died when the Colonialists bombed the mountain. The dragons were thought extinct until an egg was found by Homelanders.

  No Colonial army wanted to fight a dragon, so the war ended. However, Homeland took no chances, and they found the best nanny for their boon. The daughter of the only dragon scientists was the only choice. I watched her dig through the egg slime for the baby lizard. She looked like a homeless person on a good day, and she couldn’t be more than 19 years old. Could she really take care of a wild animal?

  She’s been through a lot, though, I thought. I squinted at the long scars and bruises on her exposed arms. Maybe one day we’ll be friends. Then I can ask where she got them. My mouth curled up on one side; I doubted it.

  A high squeak, like an upset piglet, stirred me from my thoughts. Avery pulled a kitten-sized lizard from the wreckage of the egg. The black thing dripped steaming goo on Avery’s lap. She didn't seem to notice. She wrapped the tiny baby in a huge bed sheet. I covered my smile with one hand. The smelly, messy scene charmed me for some reason. Is this like seeing a human baby born? I wondered. The dragon kit rested its tiny nose on Avery’s chest. A picture of my wife flashed in my mind. I clutched at my pained chest through my T-shirt.

  “Boy or girl?” I asked with a forced smile.

  She looked up at me. Her lips pressed into a line, but her brown eyes were wide. The dragon looked at me, too, with eyes like fire. I clasped my hands behind my back and smiled.

  She gazed down again. “Boy,” she said simply. She used a deformed finger to brush her bangs from her face. A scar cut over her left eyebrow. The baby squirmed in her arms, growling like a fussy lion cub. Her arms tightened around him.

  “Do you want me to get him anything? More blankets, a bed?” I reached out a hand to pet the little guy. “Is he hungry?”

  Avery pulled away so I could not touch him. “You don’t understand,” Avery said, her voice quiet but stern.

  “Help me understand.”

  Her chin touched her collarbone, and I realized the blankets were smoking.

  “You’re getting burned!” I was stunned. If the baby hurt her, why hadn’t she put him down? I reached for the bundle of sheets in her arms. “Give him to me, before it gets worse!”

  She rolled onto her back, using her legs to kick me away.

  “You don’t understand,” she repeated with a sigh. “He has to be close to me for an hour after birth. If he isn’t, he won’t know I’m his adoptive mother.”

  “That won’t matter if you’re dead.” I grabbed at the baby again and she stood. The dragon had burned through her shorts to her thighs.

  I didn’t know what to do, and I hated the feeling. My hands opened and closed at my sides. The bed sheet fell to the floor in black chunks.

  “Fine,” I yelled, helpless. “If you don’t want my help, at least explain it to me. Why do you still hold him even though you’re burning?” I waved with one hand to her bored expression. “Do you even feel pain?”

  Her mouth made a small “O” as she searched for words. Her arms relaxed, and the bed sheets slipped more. A large, angry burn had formed on her chest. She lifted her chin.

  "Do I feel pain?" she repeated. “No, I don’t.”

  Chapter 2

  I took off my bathrobe and handed it to her. I was careful to stay as far away from her as possible. Her news confused me, but I didn’t want her to know that.

  “This should not burn as fast as the sheet,” I said. She wrapped the dragon in the warm, dark blue wool. I privately mourned the loss of my bathrobe. But I couldn't just watch her burn herself alive. I sat on the floor in the doorway, and she rocked the kit. The dragon wheezed now and then to break the tense mood.

  “So,” I began, looking down at my clasped fingers. “How long have you…not felt things?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was born this way, it’s a rare condition. And I do feel things. I just don’t feel pain.”

  “So I guess that explains all the…” I pointed to my face and chest. She narrowed her eyes at me, confused for a moment. Then she glanced down at her own scars and fresh burns. She nodded to me. I rested my head against the door frame. “This explains a lot of things, actually
.”

  When I moved into the mountain cabin, I noticed something was off. For one, the tables had all been covered with bubble wrap. The light bulbs were missing. All of the other furniture had been lined up against one wall.

  In the kitchen, all of the silverware was gone. It had been replaced with plastic forks and spoons. No knives. There was nothing made of glass or metal to be found. I also noticed my house mate did not have a toothbrush.

  The second day, I discovered we had no hot water. When I stepped into the icy cold shower I yelped. Avery found me afterward to give me an annoyed look.

  “Was your shower freezing too?” I asked her. She just shrugged and walked away.

  I decided to take matters into my own hands. Finding a wrench in the shed, I went to the boiler room. I’ve never been good with tools, though. I quit before I turned off the water completely.

  The only normal room in the house was my bedroom. Unlike Avery’s, it had light bulbs and pillows and windows without bars.

  Now I realized she made these changes to keep from getting hurt. For some reason, this made me angry; not with her but with whoever put her in charge of a dragon.

  “I’m going to call the office first thing in the morning.” I stood and she looked up at me. Her eyes were half lidded to show she was unimpressed. I ignored the look. “For now, I’ll get you some ice for those burns.”

  I called the Homeland Law Office the next morning as promised.

  “So the little beast hatched, eh?” my boss said. I could hear him smoke a cigar through the phone. “How is the dragon?”

  I rolled my bottle of pills across the kitchen counter. “Fine, I think. I mean, it’s alive. That’s not what I’m calling about.” I licked my bottom lip. “I didn’t know about Avery’s sickness. This is dangerous for her, sir. Please, give this job to someone else.”

  “Gone soft already, Peters? There is no one else!” he barked. “Her illness makes her even better for the job. Besides, your building has a room with first aid supplies. Ms. Chase knows about it, so use it.” I heard a sharp clunk as he slammed the phone on its holder.

  I ran a hand through my short, brown hair. I looked at the pills on the counter. I wasn’t due for another dose for a few hours. But the stress was too much. I swallowed two more pills and washed them down with orange juice. I reread the pill bottle label as I drank: “Anti-depressant pills: Matt Peters. Two pills every 8 hours.”

  My wife had suggested I see our doctor. I had fits after coming back from the war. He gave me those pills to help with depression and stress. I took the pills, but my wife said I was still different. She said I was less happy, less in love.

  Should I call her? I laid one hand on the phone. I had not talked to her in weeks. A month before, I returned home to an empty house. There was a note on the refrigerator door. It read, “Matt, I am going to visit my mother for a while. I will call you later. Tess.”

  The next day, I asked my co-workers for advice.

  “Dude, that means you’re headed for a divorce!” said one guy. He sat in the desk across from mine. He had to stand to see me over our computers. I set my coffee mug down a bit too hard. “No, we’re not. We are just fine.”

  “Has she called you?”

  I paused with my fingers over the computer keys.

  “She hasn’t, then,” my co-worker guessed.

  He was right. Tess never called me. When I called her later that day, she sounded annoyed. So I stopped calling, hoping she’d come home on her own. She didn’t.

  I didn’t know why I wanted to call her that day. Maybe the birth of a baby reminded me of family? Tess and I never had kids. I was unable to, but she never seemed to mind. She’s a writer, a free spirit. “Without kids, we can travel anywhere, do anything,” she had said. We had just gotten married.

  We never went anywhere, though. I was drafted before we could go on adventures of our own. By the time I got back, she was no longer interested. In traveling, I mean. Instead, she shut herself up in our apartment and wrote. The only time she smiled was when I cooked for her. So I cooked for her often. It occurred to me I hadn’t cooked for her in months. I hadn’t seen her smile in months, either. I picked up the phone.

  “Hey babe,” I said when she picked up on the last ring. I rolled the pill bottle around in my pocket. “Sorry I haven’t called... No, I’m on a job, so I’ll be gone a while...” I rubbed the short hairs on my chin. “Honey, I’m not going to drop everything to see a shrink... You’re wrong, I do want this to work out.”

  I lowered my voice when Avery came into the kitchen. She had on a huge sweater that covered her hands. The baby dragon was in a heat-proof pouch on her chest. She’d made it out of a holder used for pizza delivery. She walked over to the refrigerator, ignoring me.

  “Look,” I whispered, “we can talk about this when I get home. I’ll pick you up at your mom’s. I’ll make you dinner.”

  Tess didn’t like that. She told me I could not buy her. She said she wouldn’t drop everything for me. “I am my own woman!”

  I winced as she yelled, keeping my back to Avery. “Okay, hon. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

  Avery closed the refrigerator, a bag of bagels in hand. “You have kids?” she asked.

  “No, no kids,” I said.

  “Good.” She passed by me without a glance. She paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. “It’s not good to have kids if the parents are never home.”

  I opened my mouth to comment, but she left before I could say a word.

  Chapter 3

  On Saturday, three days after the dragon hatched, I let myself sleep in. I woke up at ten and wandered into the bathroom we shared. Avery sat on the edge of the sink. She wore only underwear and a sports bra. I turned around, my cheeks red.

  “I didn’t peg you for a vain person,” I said. I heard a thump, like she had fallen off the sink.

  “I-- I’m not,” she said. I heard her scrabble around, and the baby dragon yelped. It had been sitting in the sink.

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Checking for scratches, burns, cuts. You can turn around now.” She wore a bathrobe now, and she held a first aid kit.

  “Oh.” I bounced my fists off my legs. “You have to check often?”

  “At least every hour.” She bent her head toward the mirror, checking her hair for blood. “Since the dragon hatched, I’ve bumped it up to every half hour. Baby dragons use their mothers’ scales to sharpen their claws, you know. And I don’t have scales.”

  She rolled up one sleeve, then the other. She found a long cut on the back of her right arm. “Does this look like it needs stitches?” She chuckled when I gagged. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  She wrapped the cut in cloth from the first aid kit. Then she strapped the dragon carrier to her chest. He squeaked when she picked him up and dropped him inside. With a sniff of her nose, she walked past me. “This is the nicest we’ve ever been to each other.”

  My hand covered my mouth a bit too late. She stopped in the doorway and glared at me. But her eyebrows did not crinkle as much as before. Her jaw didn’t lock like she wanted to crush my skull between her teeth. As she turned her head again, something caught my eye.

  “Wait.” I grabbed her arm, and the mean glare was back. “I see something,” I explained, hoping she’d allow it. Using my thumb, I smoothed the hair away from her neck. Sure enough, a small piece of glass stuck out of the skin. The area around it was crusted with blood.

  “You don’t feel stuff like this?” I said under my breath.

  “What is it?”

  I blinked at the hint of fear in her voice. I studied her large brown eyes. She was afraid. I let go of her arm.

  “You’re going to be fine. It’s scabbed over already.” I turned back to the cut. “Do you want me to pull it out?”

  She nodded. With a short tug, I pulled the shard from her neck. I placed it on her open palm. I went to the sink and got my toothbrush from the cabinet. S
he tilted her hand over the trash can. The glass fell in and she sighed.

  “Can I…ask you a favor?” she said. I almost dropped my toothpaste. I looked down at the girl. She looked even tinier now, uncertain of herself. “Could you help me look, sometimes?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Not a lot, just to make sure.”

  “Sure, if you need me to.” I tried to smile to show her it was no big deal. “That’s what friends do, right?”

  Her eyebrows cast shadows over her eyes. “We’re not friends,” she growled, and she rushed out of the room.

  As I brushed my teeth, I thought about Avery’s reaction to the glass. She was scared, but of what? She could not feel pain, so... Toothpaste foam dripped onto my shirt. That’s it, I thought. Without pain, she doesn’t know when she is hurt or in danger. She could die at any time and never see it coming. I wiped my shirt with a towel. No wonder she was so scared.

  Avery avoided me for a while after that. I think she was embarrassed. When we were together, she’d glare at me when I talked. The dragon, who watched Avery like a hawk, began to copy her. Its thin pupils burned into me. I didn’t glare back.

  After five days of silence, I came across Avery in the kitchen. She sat on the counter next to the smoking oven.

  “What’s in there?” I bent over and squinted into the blackness of the oven.

  “Steak.”

  “Extra extra well done?” Using an oven mitt, I tried to thin out the smoke. It didn’t work. I put the blackened oven mitt down. Avery glared, daring me to leave, so I made myself busy. I brewed coffee and put some pizza in the microwave. I walked over to her when my pizza was done.

  “Does he breathe fire yet?” I asked, making small talk. I reached out a hand to pet the baby.

  “I wouldn’t--” Avery began.

  I jumped back, sucking on my burnt fingers. The dragon’s black scales were as hot as the stove top. She shook her head at me.