Chapter 3 of The Half Life of Dragons

by Sonja Hakala

PREVIOUSLY IN THE HALF LIFE OF DRAGONS: It’s been seven years since Timmen Eldritch, lead singer of the mystical rock band Calliope, disappeared. To this day, most people believe he died. But there are enough conspiracy theories swirling online to keep his ardent cult members hopeful of “Timmens’ return .”

Eldritch and Calliope recorded their last album in an old farmhouse in Carding, Vermont so the town has become a reluctant mecca for Calliope culties, as they call themselves. They’ve already started to gather, and no one in Carding is happy about it. 

You can catch up on previous chapters of this novel in progress here.

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“Hey David, it’s about that time,” Annie Crane called up the library stairs. “I think we both need to be getting on to the next thing in our lives.”

“Yep, yep,” David Tarkianen said, his pen flying over his notebook. “Can you give me a minute?”

Annie made sure to sigh loud enough to be heard all the way up to the Frost Free library’s second floor. “Not tonight, David. I already told you. I have a nephew’s birthday party over in New Hampshire. Please, I’ve got to go now.”

A few choice words floated toward David’s lips but they remained unspoken. Never piss off the librarian, he reminded himself. Never piss off the librarian who has the power to help or hinder your research. He hit rewind on the microfiche machine then started stuffing his notes into a shoulder bag with seams already straining to stay sewn.

“I really need to take some time to get myself organized,” he muttered as he snapped off the second-floor lights. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll stay home to go through my paperwork. It’s gotten so I can’t find anything when I want it.”

Annie was standing by the front door, one hand on its handle, her other hand holding her keys. At least she isn’t tapping her foot, David thought as he wished her a good night.

“Sorry about holding you up, Annie. I just lose track of time when I get into this stuff,” he said. 

“I understand that, David, but it seems as though I end up staying later and later every night,” Annie said as she locked the door behind them. “I think we’re going to have to come to some sort of an understanding about this.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He started running his hands over his jacket, searching for his own keys. In the process, his shoulder bag slid to the ground, and a small drift of papers spilled onto the sidewalk.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you to it,” Annie said as she stalked off toward her little red car.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess so,” David said. A wispy breeze lifted the edges of the papers on the ground forcing him to lunge to cut off their escape. The tires on Annie’s car crunched onto the main road as she headed out of town, leaving him alone in the gloom of a March night. David stayed still, knees and hands pinning his precious research to the ground as he waited for the breeze to wander off.

“You don’t understand, Annie” he muttered as he stuffed his pockets with carelessly folded papers. “What I’m doing here is important work. People will be streaming into town on the hunt for anything and everything about Calliope, and we’ve got to be ready when they get here. This is an opportunity for Carding, an opportunity to set the record straight.” He glanced up at the nearly full moon,. “If I can figure out what the record is supposed to be.”

David checked that his bag was zipped before rising to his feet. As he made his way to his car, the wind picked up again, sweeping all sorts of leftover wintry bits before it.

Just then the lights of the Crow Town Bakery winked out, and the loneliness that lurked in the shadows among the silent buildings around the village green draped itself about David’s shoulders. He shivered as he filled the passenger seat of his car with his research while looking over his shoulder. Twilight was long past, and a thin cloud sliced its way across the moon. 

“Spooky night, innit?” a voice called. David jumped and whirled around only to find himself grinning at Lee Tennyson, everyone’s favorite farmer in Carding. “You’re out kinda late. Did Annie kick you out of the library again?”

“Yeah, she did.” David pressed a hand to his heart. “You gave me quite a start.”

“Sorry about that.” Lee eyeballed his former history teacher’s car. Its windshield was cold enough to sport ice crystals. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you start your Toyota, turn on the heat, and then come sit with me for a couple of minutes while your windshield defrosts.”

When David hesitated, Lee added: “I heard about you and the Cemetery Walkers finding that fake grave and about your Calliope research. Folks are curious about what you’re up to. I’d like to know, too,” he raised an eyebrow, “unless it’s top secret.”

“Thanks. That sounds like a good idea.”

David was grateful for the enveloping warmth when he slid into Lee’s truck. “Did you put a new seat in this thing?” he asked as he bounced up and down. “Last I remember, it was all cracked, and there was a big hole where the stuffing used to be.”

“Yeah, my wife complained about the springs in the old one poking through her jeans so I figured it was time. Stan had an old Ford out in the back of his garage with a good seat so we swapped them a couple of Saturdays ago.” The two men gave the matter of the old truck’s renovation a few moments thought in the silence of folks who have known each other long enough to be comfortable with quiet.

“You know, I was just a kid when Calliope came to Carding,” Lee finally said. “But even though I was young, I understood that their lead guy, Timmen Eldritch, didn’t give people in town much of a reason to like him. I was shocked when I heard my Dad call him an ‘arrogant little prick’ because he was not in the habit of using language like that.”

“I never knew Eldritch,” David said. “He and the band were long gone before my wife and I moved here. Do you suppose that’s what most people thought about him, that he was an arrogant little prick?”

Lee nodded. “If memory serves me right, yeah.” The farmer sighed. “I gotta tell ya, David, your interest in researching him is causing some uneasiness among the people who lived in Carding back then. I was too young to know or understand exactly why people took against Eldritch but I do remember that it was more than a simple dislike.”

“Oh? In what way?”

Lee paused to watch another cloud cross the moon, considering his words. In high school, David Tarkiainen had been everyone’s favorite teacher. He had a way of making dry subjects like the Industrial Revolution or the fall of Rome or the Reformation feel relevant and lively. Lee didn’t want his former teacher to feel he was being criticized.

“Okay, this is the best way for me to explain it,” Lee said. “There was this kid in school when I was in second grade named Bradley. Just a regular kid, you know, lived down the street from here with his mother and grandmother. I don’t remember much about him except this—every time salt was spilled, he had to throw some over his shoulder. It was a real compulsion,” Lee said. “I mean, he had to do it or he’d get so uneasy that everyone around him would get twitchy. That’s what it was like when Timmen Eldritch lived in Carding, everyone felt kinda twitchy. As far as I’ve ever been able to figure out, there’s no logical explanation for it. But I do know that ever since you started nosing around in the library looking for Calliope stuff, I’ve been feeling that same twitchiness moving through Carding.”

David sighed. “Maybe that explains why Annie Crane has been so reluctant to help me with my research. She’s always been great so I couldn’t understand why she was so reluctant to help me this time. Did she live here back then?”

“The librarian? No, but I think she had an aunt or a sister or cousin who did.” Lee glanced over at David’s car. “Well, looks like you’re all warmed up, and I know my wife has made chicken pot pie for supper.”

“So I need to let you go,” David said, reaching for the truck’s door handle. “Thanks for telling me about the Calliope situation. It’s just that it’s the seventh anniversary of Eldritch’s disappearance this year, and I’ve been seeing chat online about folks planning pilgrimages to Carding. There’s a lot of interest in whether someone’s going to petition the court to declare him officially dead. I just thought it would be a good idea if we were prepared, that’s all.”

Lee snorted. “Some people don’t have enough to do.”

“Yeah, well thanks again,” David said as he stepped out on the pavement. “Enjoy your supper, Lee.” As the two friends drove off in their separate ways, neither of them noticed the pencil-thin beam of a flashlight bobbing among the squat junipers in front of the library.

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Thanks for sharing some of the minutes of your life with me and Carding, Vermont. I hope you’re enjoying The Half Life of Dragons and can visit next week for the latest chapter.

When I reach the end of the tale, the entire book will be available here as an ebook. In the meantime, if you need to catch up or would like to share this adventure with someone else, you can do so by clicking this link.

~ Sonja Hakala