Late blooms the flower
‘Neath the stone archway’s warm shade
Where we all will be
I read the words thinking, “That’s ominous. It started out so nicely… What happened?”
My old professor’s words rang in my ears: “Life is hard, and then you die.” It was mine and my best friend’s favorite phrase—odd but comforting. That’s what this haiku reminded me of. What it meant, though, was anyone’s guess.
I shifted in the dining room chair, reading it over and over again, trying to understand it. The little dragon on the doorknob had worked so hard to tell it to me; I figured it must be important. I looked at the little guy, nestled sweetly in the metal carnations. He glowed slightly, sending me new thoughts.
“But I have looked at it,” I said.
He glowed, repeating his desire.
I huffed before returning to the poem. Late blooms the flower. I repeated it out loud before deciding to Google “late-blooming flowers.”
“Ugh, there are so many! Okay. What about the second line? Surely it will narrow down my options.”
‘Neath the stone archway’s warm shade.
“What stone archway?”
I wracked my brain so hard to remember if there were any such landmarks nearby.
Where we all will be.
“Where will we all be? And who’s ‘we’? Is it you and me, the neighborhood, the whole world?” The dragon did nothing. “You gave me this poem, and you send me thoughts, but you can’t give me a hint about the answers to this poem? What kind of dragon are you?”
The doorknob glowed bright red, burning my hand. I still couldn’t let it go, and all I could do was shake it.
“Gah! Okay, stop! I’ll figure it out. Geez, you’re mean.”
I walked to the living room and looked out the window, trying to remember everything in my neighborhood. “I’m going to assume that the poem is for anyone. Like, anyone reading this would feel like that’s where we will all end up someday—wait. The cemetery? Are you talking about a cemetery?”
The dragon remained silent.
“Thanks for the help. Good grief. It’s a good thing for you that I know there is a stone archway in the cemetery. So, if we go there, we’ll find the correct flowers.”
The little dragon glowed with delight.
“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?” I said as I rolled my eyes. I didn’t get a response, and I didn’t expect one. I grabbed my keys and took the doorknob to my car. I tried putting on my seatbelt but it was nearly impossible. How was I supposed to drive?
“Hey, uh… Can I please put you down? I can’t hold you forever.”
I felt something. The dragon was attempting more communication.
“Your name? I don’t know your name.”
A few more feelings.
“You want me to guess?” I sighed. “Okay. Fine. Um… Firecracker?”
He glowed a different color. I assumed that wasn’t it.
“Walnut? Steely? You know, because you’re made of metal?” I laughed but quickly stopped when the knob began to heat. “Okay, okay. Um…” I closed my eyes and thought hard, but suddenly I felt like maybe I needed to stop thinking.
I pushed out all my thoughts and simply listened to the silence. Letters began forming in my mind and I said, “Francis?”
I opened my eyes to see delightful glows flourishing over the dragon’s body and the carnations.
“Alright, then, Francis. Can you please let me put you down so I can drive to the archway?” I was able to move my fingers for once, and I put the knob in the passenger seat. “Ah…” I said, stretching my hand. “Thank you. Freedom at last.”
I pulled out of the garage and onto the street. As I drove, I scoffed. “Who would name a dragon Francis anyway?”
I smelled something strange. I peeked at the doorknob and saw smoke coming from the seat. I hit the brakes, which caused the knob to shake. “Stop it!” I yelled, then scanned the car for anything to push the doorknob off the seat with. “Stop! You’re going to set my car on fire! Then you won’t even be around to be helped.”
The doorknob stopped burning, and I moved it to the floorboard, then I splashed water on the passenger seat and got it to stop smoking. “That was rude.”
I picked the doorknob back up and felt the dragon repeat my sentiment. “I just asked a question! You didn’t have to destroy my car!”
The dragon sent indignation, reminding me of my scoff. “Look, I’m sorry I made fun of your name. But that was uncalled for. Why should I even help you now?”
The dragon didn’t glow but flashed. There was an urgency to his communicated feelings. Something worried him, and it scared me. “Okay, I’ll help you. But you can’t burn my things anymore, got it?”
The flashing slowed into a glow once again, and I felt the dragon’s curiosity. “My name?” I asked. The glow disappeared. I began to understand that meant yes. “My name’s Autumn.”
Another delightful glow, and I gave a pleased laugh. “It’s nice to meet you too, Francis.”
This story is a continuation of “The Doorknob“. The Haiku was inspired by a prompt by a member of my flash fiction club, Grace Routon. You can read her stories in each of the Adventuring Together anthologies.
Beth Freemont 