Dragon's Wake

By Teresa Grabs

Eighteen-year-old Jonathan is tired of Gypsum Creek and tired of his old life. But when Boss and his ragtag team enter his life, he is not prepared for the adventure awaiting him. Worlds away from Gypsum Creek, he discovers some secrets are best left unlearned, the heart always knows its way home, and one should never trust their eyes. Jonathan will have a whopper of a tale to tell once he returns home—if he returns home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Grabs
• Release date: Jul 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201692780

Book preview

1

Eighteen years packed into one surplus Army rucksack. Jonathan glanced around and took a deep breath. Wonder how long Mom will leave my posters up. He chuckled, walked to his desk, and emptied his Harrison High School Debate mug. One by one, he pulled the thumbtacks and push pins out of the wall and laid his poster collection on his bed. His debate and swimming medals were next, ending up tossed in his dresser’s bottom drawer. She’ll keep my clothes for a while, and we’ll argue about whether I need them before she’ll finally throw them out. A large white trash bag sat at the foot of his bed, filled with the last remnants of his high school career. Davey will use my desk, and Sarah would love to get her hands on my music collection. With one last scan, he flung the rucksack on his back and smiled. Few signs remained of the eighteen years he had spent in the room. Part of him burned with excitement, and part mourned his past. Even though he had cleaned out his things himself, he couldn’t shake the feeling he had been thrown out, discarded with last night’s trash. Mom would never do that. Now, Dad... No, he wouldn’t do that either. He closed his eyes and braced himself for what was to come.

On his way downstairs, he tapped on Davey’s door and cracked it open. He was lying on his bed, air drumming, lost to the beat blasting through his headphones. Jonathan grinned and closed the door. He’ll be fine. Sarah’s door was wide open, but the room was empty. Probably watching TV downstairs. He stepped inside and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, laying it on her pillow. The password to his ten-thousand-song music collection was the best thing he could leave his kid sister. It’ll get her through anything. It did me.

Going somewhere? Mom asked as Jonathan passed by the kitchen toward the front door. She walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

Jonathan gulped and took a deep breath, staring at her bright yellow slippers. He nodded and braced for impact.

Mom laughed lightly, then stopped. What? Max! Max, come here quick! Oh, no, you’re not.

Mom. I—

I’m not going to hear of it.

Dad walked in from the living room, holding the evening news. He looked at the rucksack and sighed. After a few silent moments, he walked past Jonathan and wrapped his arm around Mom. The boy is eighteen now, Mary. We can’t stop him, if he wants to go.

Her face turned bright red, and tears flowed down his cheeks. How can you... don’t you... Oh, Max. No. She grabbed Jonathan’s arm and tugged on it. No. Why? Don’t you care—

Mary. Don’t say it. Dad pulled her back and looked at Jonathan. No matter how hard he blinked, there was no stopping his tears. The door is always open, Son. I understand. Do you have money?

Jonathan wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded.

Okay. Dad pulled Mom into a tighter hug and waited for Jonathan to open the door and walk outside before loosening his grip.

Mom slapped Dad’s chest and ran to the door but stopped in the doorway when she saw Jonathan standing at the end of the walk waving.

Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. I... I just....

Mom dried her eyes and sighed. We know. Call us.

Jonathan smiled and nodded, then turned and started walking.

It was only fifteen miles to the line, and he had traveled it his entire life, but it never felt as far away as it did that night. The more he walked, the more he wanted to run—run home, run faster toward the county line, run somewhere, anywhere other than here. He was tired of Gypsum Creek and tired of his old life. Something had to change, and that change had to begin.

The air filled with evening birds and frogs croaking by the creek by the time he reached the main road. A keen sense of adventure replaced his sadness with every croak, and soon his spirit was soaring over the plains and mountains and guiding him toward his new life.

As he stood, looking around, he took a deep breath of warm air and pounded his chest. I think I need a new name to go along with my new life. How about Lynx? Yeah, that sounds like a cool name.

Contemplating his choices, he ran a hand through his short, auburn hair and grinned. Left toward Potter’s Grove and Trapper’s Peak in the Hawk Mountains, right toward North Ferry and the white sandy beaches, or straight toward New Franklin, surrounded by the same plains he had seen his entire life. A gliding hawk drew his attention, and he imagined his body soaring with it, swaying gently in the current. After a few minutes, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about which direction to go. Sounds good. Well, as good as any other direction, I suppose.

2

Lynx turned left and headed toward Potter’s Grove, the gateway to the Hawk Mountains. As he walked, memories of the third-grade field trip to Trapper’s Peak played in his mind. Angela discovered she was terrified of heights and wet her pants straight through. Jeffery found out that making fun of Angela wasn’t the best idea after becoming stuck between two rocks because he insisted on wearing his Mutton Busting Champion belt buckle despite Mr. O telling him to take it off. Three hours, two fire trucks, and more oil than a summer fish fry later, and he was finally free. No one would have guessed that Angela and Jeffery would have become friends, let alone run off during the spring of their junior year to elope. But that’s exactly what happened.

The sound of a revving engine caught his attention, and Lynx stuck out his thumb, turning behind him. Moments later, he was flat on his backside as he leaped out of the way of the speeding sports car. Coughing from the rising dust, he slowly picked himself up off the ground and dusted off his pants. Lousy driver. He adjusted his pack and started walking again.

Cicadas and bullfrogs serenaded the setting sun. Lynx paused to wipe his brow when an old-fashioned horn honked three times and sent more dust flying into the air as the vehicle pulled in front of him.

Jump in the back, young man.

Lynx recognized and voice and smiled. Coughing and shielding his eyes, he turned and jumped into the back of the old, rusty pickup truck. No sooner had his feet hit the truck bed, three hound dogs pounced and began licking his face and arms. Thanks, Mr. Young. Good thing I like dogs.

Mr. Young laughed and started driving down the road. Where you headed? he hollered through the back window.

"Don’t know yet, to