The Librarian and the Caretaker stood anxiously in the contestants' area, waiting for their name to be called. It was the first time either of them had been to the Pan-American Magical Animal Games, being held this year in Belmopan, Belize, and the air was electric with excitement. Cassandra could barely contain herself, seeming to bounce non-stop slightly on her toes for the last several days of the obstacle course competition. She tightened her grip on Franklin's harness leash in her right hand as she held the wriggling dragon against her chest with her left arm.
The Pam-American Magical Animal Games was a very prestigious event; winners at the PAMAGs often went on to win gold medals in the Magical Creatures portion of the Magical Olympics held several weeks later. It was Cassandra who had first suggested to Jenkins that he enter Franklin in obstacle course competitions, local ones only, at first. She thought it would be good for the naturally reclusive Caretaker to get out and socialize a bit with the world at large rather than keep himself insulated within their close-knit Library family, not to mention that it would be a good way to bleed off some of the seemingly never-ending energy of the tea dragon himself.
Jenkins was reluctant at first, but he finally gave in to Cassandra's repeated prodding, if only to make her happy. He and Franklin entered their first obstacle course competition several months ago, and, much to Jenkins's surprise and gratification, Franklin actually won his class. Jenkins was also rather pleasantly surprised to find that he himself enjoyed the social aspect of the competitions as well; they were a surprisingly large and diverse group of people. He very much enjoyed showing Franklin off to others, proudly talking about him and sharing stories with other magical animal handlers. It wasn't long before he and the little dragon were regulars on the obstacle course circuit, competing nearly every weekend. Soon, the walls behind Jenkins's desk was proudly covered with ribbons and medals.
After gaining some experience in the local competitions, the immortal began entering larger ones. They started off in Portland, winning awards there before moving on to the state levels, then the Pacific Northwest Regionals, then to the US Nationals, then on to the North American Semi-Finals, until at last the little tea dragon had made it all the way to the PAMAGs. The whole time Jenkins worked intensely with the intelligent animal. Franklin was eager to learn, and the Caretaker enjoyed teaching him to run through obstacle courses of all types of configurations, some of which were positively diabolical in their layout. Franklin quickly mastered them all, screaming with delight all along the course as he conquered every obstacle in his path. Each day, Jenkins spent at least two or three hours working with the tea dragon in preparation for the PAMAG competition, building his strength and stamina, sharpening his reflexes with new and ever-increasingly complicated and difficult obstacles. It was tiring work, but both man and dragon enjoyed every minute of it.
Now the big day had come at last. When Jenkins got his first look at the course for the final heat for their class—Small Dragon/Non-Fire-Breathing/100-500 Years Old—he was positively elated. Compared to some of the courses he had created for Franklin, this one was childishly simple. He had every confidence that Franklin could not only beat the obstacle course, but that he could do so in record time, thus securing them a spot on the American Olympic Team. When he reported his assessments to Cassandra, she squealed with excited delight and clapped her hands.
This course had the usual runs, jumps, tunnels, climbs, balance challenges and even a good-sized pool of water that had to be jumped. But it also had a more insidious obstacle: Placed around various points along the length of the course were small dishes of food, tailored to each individual competitor's likes, and meant to test the competitor's ability to focus and ignore distractions. Jenkins had, of course, taught Franklin how to run such a course, so he wasn't concerned. He'd successfully taught Franklin to ignore all manner of distractions—no mean feat where naturally curious tea dragons were concerned.
At last their name was called. Cassandra, flushed with excitement, walked with Jenkins to the starting line, still carrying Franklin. Before she set him on the ground, Jenkins gave her a quick kiss for luck, then gave Franklin an affectionate scratching behind one ear.
"Wish me luck my dear; and good luck to you, my clever little fellow!" he said, his brown eyes glittering with his own excitement. Cassandra happily gave her husband a peck on the cheek.
"Good luck, sweetheart!" she chirped, then set Franklin the ground and unhooked the leash. She held him in place as Jenkins strode quickly to the finish line. As Franklin's handler, he was allowed to call instructions and encouragement from there, but if he dared step onto the course itself, Franklin would be automatically disqualified. As Jenkins assumed his position at the far end of the course, the crowds in the stands fell silent. In the very front row of the venue where the obstacle course events were being held, three Librarians and their Guardian sat on the edges of their seats, ready to cheer on the Library's first entry to the PAMAGs in over three hundred years.
Franklin was well-trained and understood what was expected of him, and he was anxious to go. To him, it was a wonderful game he played with Bái Shān, at the end of which was lots of belly scratches, praise and treats. He spotted Bái Shān at the far end of the course, and Franklin was excited at the prospect of doing something that he knew pleased the patriarch of his new family. He saw workers setting out dishes of something along the route of the course, and soon his keen nose picked up the scent of several of his favorite treats—cakes made of Japanese matcha, blueberries, lemon-poppyseed muffins, dried pu-er tea leaves.
Cassandra held the whimpering, wound-up dragon steady on the starting line. Franklin's hindquarters wriggled in anticipation, his large black eyes wide and taking in everything around him. Bái Shān stood tall and calm, waiting.
The starting gun fired, and the dragon shot out of Cassandra's hands like an iridescent-green rocket. At the same moment the spectators in the stands were on their feet, screaming and cheering, none more loudly or enthusiastically than the other Librarians and Eve Baird.
As he approached the first obstacle—a hurdle three feet in height—Franklin did the unthinkable. Instead of jumping the hurdle, he raced straight to the small dish placed a few feet from the end of it. The dish contained a small matcha cake, a rare treat that he simply could not resist, and Franklin snatched it off of the plate as he shot by, gobbling it down at a full run.
He raced towards the next obstacle, a long, narrow tube barely wider in diameter than Franklin himself. But he again bypassed the obstacle, rushing instead to the dish next to it containing a small, fat lemon-poppyseed muffin. It was too large and unwieldy to eat on the run, so Franklin stopped dead and seized the muffin, tearing off large ragged chunks and bolting them down as fast as he could before moving on to the next obstacle.
At the starting line, Cassandra now stood frozen to the ground, her mouth hanging open in stunned horror. The spectators in the stand also fell relatively quiet, shocked to see such a massive failure in a competitor at this level. A few spectators went from speechless disbelief to open ridicule, jeering and heckling the speeding dragon. More experienced observers, however, felt dread blanket the arena. Such things had happened before at these high levels of competition, and sometimes they ended very badly.
Franklin continued through the entire course in the same manner, tearing up the ground between the food dishes, completely ignoring the obstacles. The lowest point came when he jumped into the pool of water, rather than over it, and spent several minutes drinking and splashing about playfully, shrieking with joyful abandon all the while. Since the rules stated that no one could enter the obstacle course under any circumstances while a competitor was active on it, there was nothing anyone could do except wait for Franklin to decide when he would cross the finish line. The people in the stands were mortified. Flynn, Eve, Jake and Ezekiel were screaming encouragement at the errant tea dragon, desperately trying to get him back on track and salvage something, anything, of the competition. Cassandra was also frantically calling to Franklin, tearfully begging him to stop eating and go to Jenkins. The immortal, for his part, merely stood at the finish line, still as a pillar of granite, his face completely devoid of expression as he watched the disaster unfold in front of him.
Franklin finally cleaned the last plate at the 17 minutes, thirty-two seconds mark—the longest obstacle course time ever in PAMAG history. His belly full now, he licked his chops contentedly and at last turned toward Jenkins, loping leisurely in his direction. As he drew closer to the tall immortal, however, Franklin sensed something was very wrong. Bái Shān wasn't smiling and clapping as he usually did. And then it struck the animal—he had completely forgotten all about the obstacles! He had failed to play their game properly, and now Bái Shān was disappointed in him—and doubtless very angry, too. The little dragon's mood plummeted, and, his body drooping low to the ground, he slowly slunk the last couple of feet, finally crossing the finish line and stopping directly in front of the man he loved most in all the world.
Everyone in the ring watched now with baited breath to see what the Caretaker would do next. Jenkins was a fearsome-looking man even in the best of circumstances, but right now, with his stony face, tightly compressed lips and dark, narrowed eyes, he looked positively frightening. He already had something of reputation in magical circles for having a sharp temper when angered. Some were afraid that he would take that anger out now on the poor beast that had humiliated him so badly at such a high-stakes competition. It had happened before, after all, to other competitors. Everyone still talked about Sir Ashton Tipping-Smythe, who beat his poor griffin to death right in the middle of a race with a stone he had snatched up from the course, infuriated with the animal's terrible performance at the Zagreb Olympics of 1680.
Jenkins stood stock still, his eyes closed for several seconds. Cassandra, of course, had heard about the Zagreb Olympics, and she ran along the side of the course, coming to a stop a few feet off, her blue eyes worried for both husband and dragon. Jenkins had had such high hopes for Franklin today, he had been so sure that they would be moving on to the Olympics. Jenkins had to be bitterly disappointed right now, but surely he wouldn't actually harm Franklin…?
"Jenkins?" she asked. "Are you all right? Please don't be too angry with Franklin—remember, he's still young and immature..." The Librarian prepared herself to snatch Franklin up and run to safety if her husband showed the least sign of wanting to hurt the tea dragon.
The immortal squeezed his eyes tight, pressed his lips together even more firmly and dropped his head. Cassandra began to inch anxiously closer to the cringing Franklin.
Jenkins's shoulders began to shake furiously; Cassandra froze, wide-eyed with fear. The crowds in the stands began to whisper nervously among themselves. PAMAG security personnel positioned themselves within easy striking distance, magical stunning gauntlets at the ready to take the huge Caretaker down should he try to attack the underperforming dragon. They were determined that there would be no repeat of Zagreb, not this year.
Suddenly Jenkins threw his head back as laughter exploded from him—loud, genuine, from the belly laughter. Startled by the unexpected noise, Franklin yelped and shrank back a few steps in fear, his eyes bulging even more than normal. Cassandra—and everyone else in attendance that day—were just as surprised and could do nothing for several seconds except to stare in amazement. Jenkins, still laughing so hard that he was gasping for air, looked down at the frightened reptile, and a huge smile lit up his face.
"Come, Franklin!" he called jovially, slapping his hand on his chest, the signal he used for the animal to jump up onto him. Franklin recognized the big man's sparking eyes and the way he bared his teeth as the signs that Bái Shān was pleased, not angry; in fact, Bái Shān's face now showed the same pride and happiness that it always displayed whenever Franklin had done a good job of playing their game. Bái Shān wasn't angry at all; he wasn't even sad or disappointed with Franklin!
Thrilled at not being in any trouble with his adopted father, the tea dragon instantly perked up. He began to leap up and down excitedly into the air, his long tail slashing back and forth as he squealed with his own happiness. He crouched on his haunches and took careful aim, then launched himself up into the Caretaker's outstretched arms, wriggling wildly and licking the human's face as fast as his tongue could move. Jenkins laughed again, struggling to hold onto the squirming beast with one large hand while he stroked and patted the tiny body with the other.
"There's my clever little fellow!" Cassandra heard Jenkins rumble affectionately as she hurried to his side. All around them people were now cheering and clapping, relieved at the non-violent outcome and at the good nature of the distracted dragon's handler; a few were even dabbing their eyes.
"Oh, Jenkins, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed. "I know how much you wanted to win here—are you okay?" Her husband, his eyes moist with tears from laughing so hard, beamed down at her as Franklin managed to slip from his grasp and wind himself around the Caretaker's neck, trilling and yipping ecstatically. Jenkins absently stroked the creature's head and neck. By now, the others had made their way from the stands and were joining the pair at the finish line.
"I'm perfectly fine, my dear," he assured her. "Why do you ask?" She gave him a look of disbelief.
"Franklin just totally blew any chance for getting into the Olympics next month?" she offered. "In fact, he's not even going to place here now, thanks to that lousy time!" Jenkins snorted in derision.
"They're only games, Cassandra," he commented dismissively. "They're not a matter of life or death, at least not for me." He waved one long arm at their surroundings.
"This is a hobby—a pleasant hobby, I hasten to add—for both Franklin and myself. It would no longer be pleasant if I began expecting perfection from Franklin every single time he took to a course, or made him feel as if he had done something unforgivable if he lost a race. Or, as in this case, given in to his nature rather than what I wanted him to do. While Franklin is a very intelligent animal, he is still an animal, after all, and all animals have a will of their own. There was no harm done today, therefore there is nothing for me to be upset about." Jenkins turned his head to look at Franklin, and was rewarded with a wet, sloppy "dragon kiss" right on his lips.
"Besides," he half-spluttered, half-laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You have to admit that it was absolutely hilarious to watch!" He looked around at the astonished faces surrounding him.
"Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but after the excitement of these last several days, I am in dire need of a very large, very strong cup of tea; would anyone care to join me?"
And with that, the tall man turned to head to the location of the back door to the Annex, still chuckling as he lovingly scratching the squeaking tea dragon underneath his chin and praising him as he dug a few lumps of sugar from his coat pocket and fed them to his fine little fellow.
NB: Thanks for reading! In the interest of full disclosure, this fic was inspired by this video, starting at around the :50 second mark, the one with the golden retriever.
watch?v=5iTTNRE-njM
