The Terrible Green Dragon

by James C. McNeill
copyright © 1996

Jim looked at Chris across the coffee table. "It's 12:30. No Carl. This isn't like him, he's usually here by 11:30 at the latest. I don't mind saying I'm a little worried."

"I know, man. Maybe he just overslept. If he's not here by 1:00, I'll give him a call."

The graveyard shift is usually quiet. The biggest challenge you face is staying alive until dawn. When a co-worker doesn't show up for work, it usually means his alarm didn't go off. Occasionally it means something else.

The two of them went about the business of making the usual equipment checks, making sure everything is functioning normally. The coffee pot went dry, they made another one.

"If it was anyone but Carl, I wouldn't think much of it. We all have overslept once or twice, but Carl...never. This is spooky."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, man. I'll give him a call. See what's going on."

"I know I'd feel a lot better about it. You hate to wake up Marge, but you gotta know."

Chris looked up Carl's phone number on the computer. He picked up the phone and dialed. A few moments went by.

"Hi Marge, this is Chris out to work. Sorry to wake you up, but Carl hasn't shown up for work. Is he there? Maybe he overslept, or something?"

A long pause. "OK, Marge. Let us know if you find out anything."

Chris hung up the phone and turned to Jim. "She says he isn't there. What do we do now?"

"I don't know. Maybe he ran out of gas or had a flat tire. It's only 12:50 now. Let's give him thirty minutes, what do you think?"

"I guess any plan is better than nothing. OK, he's got 30 minutes, and then I'm calling the Highway Patrol."

They talked idly for several minutes, each eyeing the clock every few seconds. The phone rang. Chris picked it up.

"Oh, hi Carl. Where you at, man? What's happening?"

Jim leaned forward, as if he'd be able to hear Carl's voice by doing so.

"OK, man. We'll see you when you get out here." He hung up the phone.

"He's OK, he'll be out here as soon as he can."

"Well, where's he at? Did he say what happened to him?"

"No, he didn't say, just said that he'd be out as soon as he could."

With the pressure off, Jim and Chris went into staying alive mode, talking, drinking coffee, answering the occassional equipment alarm.

Carl walked in about 1:30. "About time you came to work," Jim chided him. "What happened? You fell asleep in front of the TV, right?"

"Oh, no. Not this kid. It was awful, guys. It was one of the most terrible experiences I've ever had. Just be glad you weren't there."

"What happened? You get in a wreck, or what?"

"It was just too awful to repeat. I really don't want to talk about it. I'll have nightmares for a week as it is."

His words spoke of a terrible experience, but the tone of his voice and the slight smirk on his face told Jim and Chris that they were on a ride to Fairyland.

They waited for Carl to pour himself a cup and drink it before they pressed for details.

Jim started the inquisition. "OK, maybe you've pulled yourself together enough to tell us about this terrible experience. You know we're not going to allow you to get off with telling us just that little bit."

Carl grinned slightly. "Please, guys. Don't make me live that awful moment again. I don't know if I can ever recall it without feeling sick. It was just too, too terrible. I've never been so terrified in my life, not even when I was in the Air Force at Edwards."

Jim and Chris looked at each other. It was Chris's turn.

"OK, Carl, that's enough bull. Now what the sam hill made you late?"

"You're not going to leave me alone until I tell you, is that it?" They both nodded.

"All right, but don't say I didn't warn you. I went to bed after dinner, just like I always do. Marge got me up at 10:00 so I could watch the news. After the news, I watch TV for a while, and Marge went to bed. About 11:15 I picked up my lunch and went out the back door to get in the car."

"Sounds like a normal start to me," Jim said.

"Yeah, but that's where it went all wrong. As I stepped off the porch, this terrible green dragon jumped out into the driveway and blocked my way, he wouldn't let me get to the car."

Jim and Chris burst out laughing. Carl kept protesting, but they couldn't hear him for laughter.

"A terrible green dragon, huh? Well, that's one I haven't heard before," Jim said. "Was this a chinese dragon, or just your plain old garden variety dragon?"

Carl smiled. "I get the impression that you two don't believe me. But it was so ugly, all slimey and scaley. Scared me to death. I tried and tried to get around him, but he blocked every move I made. Finally I just gave up and went back in the house."

"You never left it, you twit! You fell asleep in front of the TV, didn't you? Come on, admit it."

They went through the night, listening to Carl's story as he embroidered it with detail. It was a four pot night.

The next week, it happened again. Midnight came, but no Carl. Jim called at 12:15, talked to Marge, and turned to Chris. "Looks like the green dragon got him again. He'll be here as soon as he can."

Carl showed up about a half hour later and confirmed what they'd surmised. "Yeah, you're right. The dragon came back again. I think he's afraid of Marge, though. As soon as she got out of bed and started calling for me, he took off like a shot."

They laughed and joked about it all night. The legend of the terrible green dragon was born.

The third week Jim and Chris were early. "It'll be interesting to see if the green dragon gets him again," Jim told Chris.

"I wish I had that kind of imagination, man. I told my kids about Carl's terrible green dragon, they loved it."

Carl came around the corner, lunch box in hand.

"It's OK, it's OK, I'm here and ready to go to work."

"What happened to the green dragon this week? Did he go on strike, or did Marge scare him away?"

"I don't know what happened, he just didn't show up. I stood on the back porch and called and called. Finally I just got in the car and came to work."

 

Carl died this spring of lung cancer. We miss him.

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