The Dragon's LairA Story by FlatDaddy A small child discovers that things between brothers don't always run smoothly.
If you squinted a little, Waco, Texas in 1955 looked like one of those quaint, "used to be a country towns" you’d see on the cover of “The Saturday Evening Post.” It was a quiet Baptist town, trying hard to be a city, calm, and safe. In other words, it was boring -- at least for kids… and that’s what I was.
I had never been more bored. The rampaging pack of miscreants I had called friends vanished into summer, taking with them the only excitement Waco had to offer. But if that were true it wouldn’t be worth writing about. Something was about to happen.
“Hey, Keith, what’s shaking?” Crap, just what I needed! It was Larry, my older brother by two years. I looked at him warily: I had learned during eight years of life that Larry offered friendship only with a string attached to pull back some hidden favor. I said nothing and Larry squatted on the curb next to me.
“So, whatcha doing, K?”
“What’s it look like, butt face? I’m sittin.’”
“All your buddies gone on vacation, huh?” Larry nodded and spat into the gutter. “Mine, too. Ain’t s**t to do around here.”
“So whadaya want from me?” “Hey! Who said I wanted anything, a*****e? Geez, can’t a guy even talk to his little brother anymore?” I noted the elfish grin beneath my brother’s blue eyes, freckles, and shock of unruly blonde hair stuffed under a Chicago Cubs baseball cap. He wants something, I thought. But what is it?
“Look, I’m just as bored as you are, and I’m tired of sittin’ arouind on my a*s all day, okay? I just thought that maybe we could do something together, that’s all. It ain’t a crime, is it, to want to play with your little brother?”
I cocked my head and looked at him through slitted eyes, trying to take his measure. Maybe. Just maybe Larry was being truthful for a change. And what the hell, anything - even one of Larry’s dirty tricks was better than another godawful day of nothing! “So, what do you want to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How about going to The Lair? The way I’m growing, it won’t be long before I can go anymore.”
I gave him a sideways glance. He’s right, I thought. Before long, Larry will never fit. Hell, he might not fit now! That could be a real hoot! It would be cool to turn the tables on my big brother for a change! I knew The Lair better than anyone. Larry probably hadn’t been there in two years, and he’s really sprouted since then. I casually looked him up and down. Yeah, I thought. I can just see you getting stuck in there - and you’d never get out again without me! “Okay,” I said. “That could be fun. Let’s do it!”
We rose and headed for the nearest gateway, a half a block away.
It was mid-afternoon. The smell of honeysuckle was everywhere; it came from Jerry Mounces’ house on the corner of Trice and North 11th -- . our street. Jerry’s folks had planted every flower and plant of every kind, and the honeysuckle covered all of it with an ocean of fragrance. We didn’t pay them much attention this day. It was all old hat by now, and we had other concerns. But I did take a deep breath of it as we walked by.
“You sure you can get in there?” I asked Larry. We pulled up at the entry and looked down.
“Sure! No problem,” Larry said confidently. He lay on the dark asphalt of our street next to the wide slit of the drain cut into the curb. It was only about eight inches wide. After some grunts and groans, Larry managed to slide through and dropped to the floor of the cavity below. “See, no problem, mi amigo!” He swatted the dirt from his clothes, raising a brief cloud of dust.
“Yeah, but that’s the easy part. What about the pipe?”
“Piece of cake!” Larry turned, got down on his knees, thrust his head and shoulders into the drainage pipe and crawled inside. He fit with room to spare, but there was not nearly enough room - even for me - to turn around. “Come on, Keeeeith, let’s go!” He began to scuttle forward.
I smiled hugely. There were dozens of pipes connected to The Lair, and it was blacker than tar inside. Surely there would be some opportunity, some golden moment that would offer revenge of one kind or another for all the pranks Larry had pulled on me. I quickly dropped to the ground, slipped inside the drain, and followed. I was a good six inches shorter than Larry and was very skinney; mom said I didn’t stay still long enough for any fat to settle on me. Then she would invariably try to wipe away the spattering of freckles that ran like a swarm across my face, and ruffle my dirty black hair, always pretending to cough afterward from an imagined cloud of dust, usually.
“Oh, man,” Larry’s voice echoed ahead, “There’s a big t**d in here, man! Geez, watch out!”
I knew better. None of the pipes were connected to the sewer system. Probably just a clump of wet, rotting leaves, I thought -- a natural, oft encountered hazard. Still, I was careful where I put my hands.
I slowed a little to let Larry get ahead while I thought about what I could possibly do to get my revenge on him for all the misery he had dumped upon me as we grew up. I knew he wasn’t really mean. It’s just what brothers do. That’s why I had to get him back! This was a chance I couldn’t miss! I think I giggled a little just thinking about it.
“What’s that noise, back there?” I heard Larry say. He wasn’t stupid. He had to know I was looking for a chance to get back at him. Well, we’ll see about that! “Aw, it’s just that t**d running back toward you, big brother! Better watch out!” Ahead, Larry let out big guffaw.
“Oooo, I’m scared, little squirt a*s! Oooo, don’t let the bad old t**d get me!”
I had to laugh at that. But it was only about eighty feet to the creek and the big tunnel that lay ahead. Once I’m there, maybe I can …
“Hey, dwarf, “ Larry yelled, “C’mon, I can hear the water! We’re almost there! Let’s get mooooovin’!”
“I’m comin,’” I yelled, “don’t get your panties in a twist!” I shuffled forward on my hands and knees now, as fast as I could. Damn, it was dark! But it was cowardly to bring a light into The Lair. The sound of Larry’s scuttling progress drifted back through the pipe to me, then stopped.
“Hey, I made it! Come on, squirt, where are you!”
“S**t, man, I’m coming!” Damn, I didn’t know Larry could move so fast!
Suddenly, a scream shot through the pipe. It blasted past me and pulled up the tiny hairs on my arms and neck in its wake. I jumped and banged my head on the ceiling of the pipe. Another scream followed and crawled over my skin, leaving goosebumps behind. Then I heard a voice, an ugly deep, raspy voice that echoed eerily toward me!
“I’ll teach you kids!” the voice shouted. “I’ll teach ya!”
“Keith!” Larry shouted. “Keith, help! Oh, God, don’t, do …” His voice was cut off and I suddenly saw superimposed upon the blackness, a large, hairy, filthy hand -- a hand with broken, claw-like nails! A hand …
“Larry, you son of a b***h,” I screamed, “if this is one of your stupid tricks, I swear I’ll kill you!” I paused, held my breath and listened -- but heard nothing. “S**t, this isn’t real,” I mumbled. “There’s nobody there! He’s just trying to …”
Larry screamed again, then I heard a deep, ugly laugh. My eyes grew wide and frightened. I saw Larry a hundred different ways, each more gruesome than the last. I saw him hanging by his neck from the ceiling of the tunnel, dead and white. I saw him face down in the creek; pink ribbons of blood snaked away from his head and trickled away through the water. I saw him in a thousand pieces, scattered here and there …
“Larry? I shouted. “LARRY, ARE YOU OKAY?!” No answer came, no sound of any kind. “Oh, God,” I cried, “Don’t let anything happen to my brother! Please!”
Tears streamed freely down my face now as I continued down the pipe as quickly, yet silently as I could manage. Jesus, will it never end? And what will happen when it does? What will I see then? What will I find? I was terrified of going on. In the blackness, my mind screamed at me to go back the way I had come and go for help! If some murderous lunatic is down there, what could I possibly do? Instead, I crawled through the total blackness as silently as possible. That’s my brother I heard screaming!
I moved so quickly the rough concrete of the pipe rubbed my hands raw and tore patches of cloth from the knees of my thin summer pants. At last, the pipe came to an end where it fed into the quarter mile long tunnel we called, "The Dragon’s Lair" that ran below our part of town. Both ends brought the submerged creek back into sunlight - but both were far away, and there was little light to see. I cautiously stuck my head out of the pipe and looked around. I saw nothing unusual. No blood. No hulking, crazy killer. And no Larry. Did the bad man carry my brother off to his own lair? Or would I find Larry face down in the water further up the tunnel, horribly brutalized? Which way? I dropped down to the tunnel floor, as quietly as I could. “Larry,” I whispered. The only reply was the soft gurgling of the creek that ran quietly through The Dragon’s Lair. It was almost completely black. Some light filtered in through each end, but little of it made it to where I was.
I turned left toward the shortest route out and home. I tried to walk along the water’s edge to keep my feet dry, then a few yards further on I spotted a good sized piece of tree branch, and I picked it up for use as a weapon if I needed one. But as my hands closed on it, I felt something … sticky. I peered at it closely, and even in the dim light of the tunnel I could see it was red, and I quickly stifled a scream. Blood! This is blood, I whispered. Larry’s blood! Oh, God! I dropped the branch and looked at my hands. Red! I wiped them on my pants and tore down the creek. Fear rose in me volcanically, but the ashes of my caution fell around me. “Larry! I screamed. “Larry, where are you?! I’m coming! I’m coming,” I cried.
I fell several times in my quest to reach sunlight, to reach home. I sloshed through knee-high water, quite cold, there in the blackness of The Lair; I really can’t recall clearly, but I know I finally emerged blinking and crying and shaking -- from fear, from shock and sorrow, and I collapsed on the bank of the creek. My eyes shot around, blinking in the harsh sunlight. Then I noticed something lying in the grass near the other banks' edge. I sloshed through the water to reach for it -- and saw as I picked it up that it was a baseball cap -- a dirty blue baseball cap with, “Chicago” emblazoned on the front in black. Something red and sticky was smeared on the back. No question it was Larry’s. “No!” I screamed. It tore from my chest like the cry of some wounded animal. I stood in knee-high rushing water and cried in gulps and gasps. “Oh, Larry,” I whispered.
It was now a cruel, bleak, late afternoon. The sun still blazed, bright and hot, more blue than it ever is today. Birds chirped and did bird things. A soft breeze caressed the wildflowers that grew along the creek’s edge and bent them gently backward. I stood amidst it all, devastated, screaming in the meager rapids of our little creek. Red stained my dirty T-shirt.
Eventually, I stumbled up the bank toward home. I crushed Larry’s bloody cap to my chest, careened toward home, and finally fell upon our porch, still sobbing. At last, i rose and burst into the house crying, “Mom! Mom! Oh, Mo ..Momma!” I cried, shaking.
My mother rushed from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Keith, what’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?” She cried, stricken. Fear showed in her voice. I was always getting myself in scrapes and was a familiar face at the local hospital. “Is that blood on your clothes?" Her face went white.
“Mo ..Mom, I burbled. “It’s, it’s Larry,” I said softly.
“Me?” Larry said, walking in quietly from his room. “What about me? Hey, I see you found my cap!” He snatched it from my hands. “I wondered where it went. Eww! What’s this sticky stuff all over it? Looks like ketchup,” he grinned.
And I knew I had been suckered again. It was all just a big joke. Another big damn joke on little brother. We stood facing each other for a few silent moments. Mom broke it with, “What’s going on here, boys?”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I said quietly. “I’m fine. It was just a joke.”
“Some joke!” Mom said indignantly. “You scared the daylights out of me! Now go to your room and get cleaned up, pronto!”
I turned toward Larry. My tears had dried. I was suddenly calm, very calm. I walked slowly over to him. He grinned widely, the smile reserved just for me whenever he had got one over on his “little brother.” His eyes glistened with joy, and he chuckled. “What’s wrong, little brother?”
“Nothing,” I replied. Then I brought my knee up as hard as I could into his groin, and Larry collapsed on the gleaming white tile of the kitchen floor. “I hope you die,” I whispered.
END
© 2025 FlatDaddyAuthor's Note
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