Tudy and the Beast

Tudy and the Beast

Chapter 1

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, I thought to myself as I stood on my tiptoes atop my thin mattress to watch one cavort in the sky outside my high window. Truth be told, if someone had asked me yesterday, I’d have said there weren’t any dragons anywhere to the best of my knowledge. But as I watched this one possessively eye me from outside my barred window, I knew that if I ever got out of here, I’d ensure the world was rid of this solitary specimen if it was the last thing I ever did.

How did I even get here? Where was I? I recognized Crown Hill Valley, of course—with the miniature golf course on the hill, the round, manmade pond and surrounding pavilions at the bottom, the two badminton courts flanking the edges—but my quarters felt like a castle tower, and there were no castles in Crown Hill.

Or were there?

Didn’t castles and crowns go hand in hand? Or hand and head, to be correct?

The dragon made a snarling sound as he darted toward my window, challenging me.

Instinct told me to duck and cover. Logic told me he didn’t exist.

His talons gripped the stone walls of the tower, and the pressure from his wings blasted into my hair, sending it into a frenzy.

“What do you want?” I screamed at him. “Go ahead! Fry me, you stupid beast!”

He spared me the most human expression of annoyance and disappointment I’d ever seen as he shoved off, sending little ripples of victory through me as well as little ripples of dust sprinkling down from the stones.

I stepped off my cot and sat on the edge to spin my wheels. What did I last remember? I rewound the day. I had already gone grocery shopping. Ran all my errands. Took some time to sit on the bench to enjoy first bit of sunshine this week. I recalled seeing two cute guys on the bridge over the swollen creek, eyeing me. I remembered smiling at them. The ice cream cart wheeled past on the pavement. I’d hoped one of them would buy me a cone.

Then... something. An odd smell. Scent. An odd scent. Like old pennies. Then... then....

“Madam?”

I looked up to see a thin man wearing an olive jumpsuit outside my cell door. He had a pinched face but bright eyes, like I was his own fairy godmother or something but in a pair of denim jeans, stuck in a cinder block cell with the most exciting thing around me being the drip from my tired metal sink. His happy expression irritated me, and I stood and snapped, “It’s mademoiselle to you.”

“Oh, yes. Of course, mademoiselle.” He carried a tarnished silver tray with a plastic bottle of water on it. His eyes drifted to the window, where the dragon had returned to roost like some giant, scaly chicken. “He thought you might be thirsty.”

I studied the beast’s face in my window, where he watched me like he waited for me to accept it. Suspicion filled me. “Why? Is it poisoned?”

His face paled. “No, no, it’s sealed. Fresh from the fridge.”

I was thirsty. Thirsty enough to accept the dragon’s offering without asking about the attached strings first. I’d been in here for hours, screaming my head off to no avail, and this guy was the first to come. “Fine.” I reached through the bars and snatched it off the tray before he could withdraw his offering. The cap was indeed sealed, so I twisted it off and took a long pull of the cold bliss.

I turned a suspicious glare on the dragon, who made a hasty escape.

“Coward!” I yelled.

“Whatever you need, mademoiselle, I’ll be happy to provide. Just call for me. My name is Henry.”

“That’s excellent, Henry. You know what would be fab? Unlocking this door.”

He took a step back. “Oh, no, mademoiselle.” His eyes darted to the window. “He’d have my head.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’d be happy with your throat.” I bared my teeth and gripped the cold bars to give them a solid rattling shake, which made him take another step backward.

“Please, mademoiselle, you don’t understand.”

“That a monster captured me and is holding me hostage? I think I get the concept.”

“No, it’s not that. Please, mademoiselle....”

I grumbled at his fawning manner and found myself rolling my eyes. “It’s Tudy. I’m Tudy.”

“Tudy,” he whispered, nodding his head respectfully.

I growled again. “Will you at least tell me what I’m doing here?” I aimed a kick at the cold bars, my sneaker making solid contact, before I spun away and flung my arms out with sheer frustration. “I was sitting on the park bench, minding my own business, and next thing I know, I’m here.” I gasped as another memory smacked me. “What happened to my sub? I know I didn’t finish my meatball sub.” I stormed up to the front of my cage again. “Did you steal my sub, Henry? It was from Papa G’s, and do you know how long that line was? Do you? Tell me square, Henry, did you take it? You know I’ll find out.”

He bowed his head again. “With regret, I must inform you your sub was apparently lost during your collection.”

“Collection? What am I, a fruit?” I grabbed the bars for another shake. “Tell me you didn’t turn my meatball sub into pigeon food, Henry.” I gasped with a more horrible thought. “Or worse, that those yappy terriers playing Frisbee got it.”

He shook his head at me. “I was not informed at your arrival of the ultimate outcome of your sub.”

I held his eyes for an uncomfortable minute. “I want a meatball sub, Henry. From Papa G’s. And since you specifically said that you’re here to serve my needs, I also want that monster who captured me to be the one to deliver it.”