Chapter 6: Opinions Matter
I insisted that I did not want the medicine, but my friends, being the kind, listening friends they are, knowingly went against my wishes and manipulated me into taking it.
I know it was them because I was told so by Turtle in the library. It was Tsunami's idea, apparently, which makes sense, but at the same time doesn't make sense. When was the last time Tsunami came up with a good idea?
"Yeah, I know. I agree that it's out of character. But she said that otherwise you were never going to take it and just keep whining about how you didn't need it," Turtle told me.
"Whining? Did she use that word?" I asked.
"Yup," said Turtle.
"That's ironic," I said. "So wait - when are they going to sneak this into my water?"
"I don't know," said Turtle. "I think someone might tell you to take off your bandana or something? I forgot."
"Turtle, can you please stop forgetting things?" I asked him.
"Sorry," he said.
"Well, thanks for the info," I told him.
"No problem," he responded. "Just doing my part."
So I had to wait to welcome my deceitful friends into the library. Just me and the strange bittersweet feeling I had for what they were doing. Did I want to see? Yes. Did I wish they had listened to me? Yes. Can beggars be choosers? No. I decided that I was OK with being lied to if it meant getting my vision back.
The library was busy today. Students came in and out constantly. The room was filled with the buzz of chatter and the flipping of pages. Their sounds comforted me.
Soon after my talk with Turtle, Tsunami came up to me and offered me some water for no reason. I pretended to graciously accept her gift.
"Warm?" I asked her.
"Warm, just as you like it," she told me.
I took a sip. The heat of the liquid scalded my tongue, but in a pleasant way. Silently, in my head, I made two toasts: one toast to myself, for coming up with a brilliant plan; and one toast to my vision, whom I was soon to be reunited with.
"Take off the bandana," Tsunami commanded me.
"Wha-? Take off the - huh?" I asked, feigning surprise and confusion.
"You heard me! Take off the bandana!" she commanded once again.
"Why?" I asked.
"Just take it off!" she shouted.
I took it off, and the light assaulted me.
Once again, it took a long time for my eyes to adjust to the luminosity of light. The fact that I hadn't seen light in the past few days made the quiet yelp I gave out real, and helped sell the fact that I had no idea what was going on. Slowly, but surely, my eyes began to get used to the light. Raw color began to organize itself into shapes and outlines of figures began to emerge. And all of a sudden, everything was clear. No more read-alouds. No more bandanas.
I could see again.
There they all were, the four of them standing side by side, broad smiles stuck on their faces. Yet they had all changed since I had last laid eyes on them.
Clay's high cheekbones had started to sag, dipping down to create a wearied expression. A hint of tiredness adorned his eyes, but I could tell that the youthful, energetic spirit inside him was fighting back. I still saw that spirit in the twitching of his smile, the way he jumped in place out of excitement. He still had the spirit.
He had at least more of the spirit than Glory, who had come all the way here just to see this. She, unlike Clay, looked like she hadn't gotten sleep since I'd gone blind. She looked tired. I didn't blame her. All her life, all she'd wanted to do was prove herself, but what she overlooked is that once you prove yourself, you get responsibilities. And responsibilities are exhausting. Plus, as the Queen, she has basically every responsibility. So of course she's tired and of course her once confident face is drowsy.
Tsunami, on the other hand, still has that same fiery personality that I'd come to love/hate/tolerate. Her face was arranged in an aggressive way, covered with sharp lines that almost seemed to say, "Fight me. I dare you." Tsunami's face was the only one that I knew would be the same. I could tell when she told me to take off the bandana, because I knew that only an aggressive mouth like Tsunami's could have uttered those words..
I knew that Sunny would also be the same. I knew that deep down. But I didn't want to say that because I wasn't certain of it. Yet I treated Tsunami's face as a certainty because, frankly, how Tsunami's face looked didn't matter to me. But Sunny's face mattered. Everything about Sunny matters to me.
So when I saw that Sunny was somehow more beautiful than before, which I thought was impossible, I was both ecstatic over her beauty and relieved over her non-ugliness. She still had those eyes, those scales, that smile. It was all there, and it had all gotten better with time. She was the prettiest dragon I'd ever seen. I knew that I'd be thinking that about her future self too, but I just wanted to think it anyway because I knew it was true.
Clay, Glory, Tsunami, and Sunny. My family.
Not my blood family, but I would never have a real one of those. The only blood relatives that I had were my dad and Fierceteeth. I was never going to have a true familial relationship with either of them. I was never going to savor the highs and lows of my life with them at my side like I had with these four. We have eaten, slept, lived, laughed, cried, played, bled, and worked together all our lives. These are the dragons who appear in all of my memories. These are the dragons who I bring out my smile for. These are the dragons whom my bonds with shall never fade. This is my family.
They may have just manipulated me, but I don't care.
They're still my family.
"OH MY MOONS!" I yell.
I run in for a hug, and we embrace. And surrounded by them, I feel cared for. I feel loved. All my troubles melt away.
We have a school-wide assembly where we explain what's been going on. Seeing everyone's face brings me, for the millionth time that day, to tears.
I try to tell everyone to keep the medicine a secret, even though I know it's useless. Deep down in the back of my mind, I know they shouldn't have unblinded me. They should have just left me blind, because now we have to tell every dragon in the school about the medicine. And though I trust everyone at this school, the information will spread. I am certain of it. Soon all the tribes in Pyrrhia will know about this all-healing medicine. And they will want a dose of it to take back home with them. But I can't give them that.
Because for the dragon who receives the medicine to be healed, Turtle must be there to place his magical rock upon them. That's why we kept everything secret - so we could heal dragons one at a time. But when everyone finds out about the medicine, everyone will want the medicine at once. But Turtle can't be everywhere at once. That's a problem.
As I look upon these faces, I think about how just by looking at them I am endangering myself, this school, and most importantly, their lives. It's a small thought, but as soon as I think it, I know it's a thought that is going to grow in size and in power. For now, however, it remains tiny, pushed aside by all the jubaliac thoughts running through my mind. I took time to celebrate when I first got my sight back from Turtle. I see no reason why I should not be able to celebrate the second time as well.
"It will be our little secret, OK?" I tell them.
I guess I just have to wait and hope that everyone listens more to recently unblinded dragons than blind ones.
