Finn dashed around the burrow: into the bathroom to fetch his toothbrush, under the couch for the Gnomian Warriors IV comic, through Benn’s desk to borrow a deck of cards and back to his room to throw them into his weekend bag. His whole body vibrated with excitement. This weekend Sproutton was hosting the Dragon Races and his father, Phildur Fobb, had tickets. 

Finn packed his fan t-shirt for Pickle the Punisher, a sleek purple dragon with the habit of tripping her opponents and Masher the Magnificent, a heavy, yet surprisingly fast green-gold dragon. 

He let out a small EEK! of excitement as he stopped in front of his calendar and crossed off the 15th in its bright red circle. It was finally here. He and Mr. Fudge had been counting down the days for two whole months. Dad said they’d get ice cream, and stand in line for autographs, and stay up late. They wouldn’t miss a single race.

Finn huffed and puffed as he wrestled with his suitcase. Finally, he sat on it and quickly pulled the zipper shut. He nodded in satisfaction with Mr. Fudge, whom he stuffed in a pocket, Finn  hauled the suitcase off his bed, almost tripping, and staggered out of his room and down the hall. 

“inny!” Ma Fobb called, “Finny, could you come here please?”

“I’m coming Ma!” Finn replied brightly as he dragged the suitcase to the front door. He looked at the short bald gnome standing beside Ma Fobb and Benn and dropped the suitcase to wave at him. “Hi Dad! Are you ready to watch the Pickle crush Stan-Stan?”

His dad didn’t smile. Finn faltered and looked at Ma. Ma wasn’t smiling either. Finn felt his belly flip-flop with worry and walked cautiously between his parents. His dad was wringing his hands together and fiddling with a ring on his thumb.

Absently, Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out Mr. Fudge. He squeezed him tightly to his chest as he whispered, “Dad?”

“Hey there, Finn lad. I am so happy to see you. I – er,” he coughed, “I have some bad news.”

Moisture glistened around his dad’s eyes. Finn felt like he had eaten a dirty brick. What could it be?

“Did the Masher get disqualified? They did say he looked like he’d been taking some special mushrooms.”

Ma choked. Dad’s face went a little red, but he didn’t say anything. Finn thought his dad’s eyes might be watering.

Finn thought furiously. Surely not. But it must be. He took a step back, “Is Pickle okay?”

His dad’s shoulders slumped and Ma put her hand on Finn’s shoulder. His dad shook his head. Finn started to cry. His dad said, “Pickle is fine, son. Look, I can’t take you.”

“Well the first race doesn’t start for another three hours Dad. It’s okay. Ma can drop me off -”

“No Finn.”

Finn jumped at the hardness in his voice.

His dad sniffed and wouldn’t look him in the eyes, “I’ve been called to work, buddy, I can’t take you.”

Finn squeezed Mr. Fudge so hard he apologized for suffocating him. He shook his head, “But you booked it off, remember? We both did. You circled my calendar and I circled yours. We booked it off.”

“I know, kid.” His dad’s voice shook, “I know and I am sorry.”

It started with the brick in his belly. It felt like the brick broke in two, then three, then burst. His belly was hot lava and broken stones. His hands shook and he knew he held Mr. Fudge too tight. He promised. Finn growled to himself. But he said he was sorry. He thought. But he promised.

“You promised.” Finn growled through grit teeth.

His father’s eyes were definitely watering, “I am disappointed too, Finn.”

Then Finn felt his eyes heat up and he unleashed a torrent of fire from his belly, “You LIAR! You promised!” He threw Mr. Fudge as hard as he could at his father’s face, feeling the slight tweak of satisfaction as Mr. Fudge made contact. “Get out!” Finn snarled, “we don’t need you anyways!”

He shoved away Ma Fobb’s hand, kicked his suitcase, and marched down the hallway and into his bedroom. He slammed the door as hard as he could and flopped on his bed.

It was only then that he’d realized what he’d done. “Mr. Fudge,” Finn whispered to himself. He curled up in a ball around his pillow and squeezed it tight. “I didn’t mean to Mr. Fudge, I’m sorry.”

Finn felt sick. His pillow was wet with tears and he missed his friend. But he couldn’t move. Of course he couldn’t move. 

He tensed as there was a knock at the door. Finn said nothing. Still, the door creaked open.

Heavy footsteps moved across the room with a familiar weight resting on his bed. He didn’t say anything. 

“We had a plan, you know bud,” Benn started, fidgeting with something in his hands, “I know this sucks, but the weekend doesn’t have to be a bust. And, well, you know that wasn’t cool.”

“He promised,” Finn growled.

“Do you want to know why Dad can’t make it?”

“No,” Finn said flatly, his face still smooshed into the pillow.

“Suit yourself bud,” Benn paused. Finn imagined that he was biting his lip. “Did you mean to hurt Mr. Fudge too?”

Finn felt sick to his stomach. Slowly, he shook his head back and forth. It felt too heavy to lift from the pillow. 

It was then that he heard Mr. Fudge’s distinct rustle and a light pressure as Benn laid Mr. Fudge by his shoulder. “Well, I’ll let you explain yourself to him. I am going to go see Dad off … you should too.”

“I don’t care.”

Benn stood up and his heavy footsteps walked towards Finn’s door, “You should, you know. He cares deeply for you.”

Finn grumbled under his breath, understanding a little of what his brother was trying to say. He could say goodbye to his father, surely, before condemning him to some silent treatment. So he rolled out of bed, taking care to miss Mr. Fudge and slowly trudged down the hallway. Finn decided that he would lecture his father on promise-keeping, and keeping your promises, and not letting your child down. He needed to learn.

As he walked into the foyer, Ma was gently patting Dad on the back as he sniffed and wiped tears from his eyes. Finn felt the pang of anger double in his belly. No one hugged him as he cried, and he didn’t even do anything wrong!

He watched Benn walk up to Dad and give him a big hug and pat on the back, saying that he’d take care of the tickets. Finn’s jaw dropped. Benn was going to take care of his tickets? Finn stopped and snarled, “This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it? You wanted this to happen so you could go with one of your friends!” Finn turned his eyes back to his father, “I hate you. You always liked him better. I hate this family! I never want to see you again.”

Finn was so angry he only saw red in his vision and his body vibrated. His ears pounded so hard that he could just feel the vibrations of the others speaking at him, but not hear their words. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. He kicked the suitcase again, harder this time, before dashing back into his room and slamming the door. He screamed and roared and he imagined that fire rose from his throat. He threw his pillows on the ground and ripped the blankets off his bed. He tore his calendar off the wall and kicked over a chair.

Then he picked up Mr. Fudge and gasped, dropping him back on the bed.

Mr. Fudge frowned at him, crossing his arms as he pushed himself to a sitting position on the bed. He raised his eyebrows and said, “What are you doing, Finn?”

Finn backed up, “I -”

“Because I thought we were friends and friends don’t hurt friends, do they Finn?”

Finn flt tears roll down his cheeks, “It was my dad. I -”

“Funny, Finn Fobb, but your father did not throw me.”

“But he -”

“No buts, Finn. I am hurt. I feel sad because I thought we were close, I thought you loved me, and yet I found myself flying across a room with no wings and smashing into your father’s face. Were you about to do it again?”

Finn shook his head.

“Really? It looked like you were going to.”

“I realized. I didn’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Mr. Fudge wiggled his eyebrows, frowning, “Why did you do it?”

Finn’s vision blurred with tears coming from his eyes. He did what he could to wipe them and sniffed, “He promised.”

“So naturally, I deserve to be thrown at his head.”

Finn shook his head then, raising his chin and taking a step toward Mr. Fudge, “No, Mr Fudge. You didn’t deserve any of it. You are such a good friend, and I am sorry that I hurt you.”

Mr. Fudge narrowed his eyes and kept his arms crossed, “Are you sure? You aren’t going to throw me again?”

“No, I feel terrible. I will never throw you again … unless it saves your life.”

Mr. Fudge hopped off the bed and stretched out an arm, “Promise?”

Finn nodded sniffily, “I promise.”

“Okay,” Mr. Fudge said softly, pulling him into a hug, “I accept your apology. What a day we are having m’lad.”

Finn tucked his face in Mr. Fudge’s shoulder and cried. And then cried some more. Mr. Fudge patted his back without saying a word and waited until Finn pulled away. Finn dried his eyes and took a deep breath before sitting on his bed and putting his head in his hands.

 “I just wanted to see my dad,” he said softly.

Mr. Fudge tripped on the discarded blankets and fell onto the bed beside him. He tut-tutted for a moment as he struggled to right himself before looking at Finn, “Well, it seems that you’ve missed your chance, doesn’t it?”

Finn pounded his fists into the mattress, “It’s all his fault. He never keeps his promises. And Benn … he likes Benn better.”

“What makes you think that?”

Finn growled, “Dad gave the tickets to Benn. Those are my tickets. We were supposed to go together!”

“So what is important, Finn Fobb? Why are you upset? Because those are two different problems.”

Finn stopped as he began to speak and looked at Mr. Fudge. Really looked at him. He took a deep breath and felt the molten brick in his stomach and the lava shoot up his throat. As he thought about his father, he remembered his promise, and the planning, and the feeling of disappointment in his belly when Finn realized that he had lied to him. He felt a roar build up in his chest. He opened his mouth to let it out and …

Paused. He paused.

Mr. Fudge’s left eyebrow was raised as he patiently waited for him to answer. He didn’t deserve the roar, or the fire. So Finn closed his mouth and wrestled with it instead, trying to make sense of the anger building inside of him. 

Finn took a breath. He pulled out his dragon racer action figures and sifted through the pile. Setting aside the Masher, and Pickle, and Stan-Stan, he pulled out his least favourite dragon, Cruz the Crusher. Cruz was a large, red dragon with sharp talons and a fiery temper. Finn didn’t like Cruz because she had charged Pickle after the race had ended and hurt her badly. Pickle had needed six whole months to heal from the injuries. Finn held out Cruz to Mr. Fudge now, and Mr. Fudge took the dragon in his hands.

“My dad has an important job, he makes sure all the gnomes get better in the Sproutton infirmary. He saves a lot of gnomes.”

Mr. Fudge waved Cruz around slowly, “Why did you hand me this?”

“I understand how Cruz felt. She just wanted what Pickle had. Cruz wanted to be loved, and the attention that Pickle got for her hard work.”

As he spoke, he watched his skin grow crimson red, his fingers turning into long talons. The next time he spoke, his voice came out like a growl, “I want to be important to my dad, and I am not.”

Mr. Fudge shimmied to the far side of the bed, and started looking up at him. Finn felt his neck get longer and looking behind he saw that he’d grown a stubby dragon’s tail. Finn huffed, sending sparks out of his nose, “And Benn took the tickets. He’s my brother. They were mine.”

His enormous dragon paws stomped furiously against the ground, making the earth shake. Finn’s neck bent uncomfortably as he no longer fit properly in his room, so Mr. Fudge grimaced and snapped his fingers. 

In a moment, they were transported to a rocky outcrop that Finn had never seen before. He staggered at first, but his four feet caught him well enough. As Finn looked around, he saw dragons of every colour around him, flying and swimming and climbing. Delighted, especially with his new dragon body, he scrambled around, chasing the other dragons and roaring as loud as he could. Many of them jumped, startled, before taking to the sky. Finn didn’t notice. He ran at them, crashing into them like he saw Cruz and the Masher do at the races. It was fun. The way they cringed. He roared again, letting the fire flow freely from his throat. 

Finn spent ages pushing the other dragons, crashing about and scaring them. The brick melted from his belly and he felt better. Up ahead, he spotted a green dragon about his size with yellow spots and charged it. How fun. What he didn’t expect was how the green dragon backed up, how it shook its head back and forth and stamped worriedly. Finn slowed a little there, but felt the fire in his belly return and he picked up speed. 

Then he heard it.

“Please don’t.”

The voice belonged to the green dragon.

“I don’t like that,” it said.

Finn slowed to a stop, his heart beating fast, “The others don’t mind,” he said.

“Really?” the green dragon looked at him with cool eyes, “then where are they?”

Finn let the steam funnel out his nose as he turned his large crimson head this way and that. The green dragon was right, there was no one else here. He could see the large wings of several of the dragons far off in the sky, moving away from him. And then he felt the familiar rustle of Mr. Fudge sliding off his back.

“Ahoy there, friend!” Mr. Fudge hailed, “What’s your name?”

“Cyrus the Significant,” the green dragon intoned, “You must be Mr. Fudge.”

“That I am, dear lady.” Mr. Fudge twirled his top hat in greeting.

“And this brute is your companion?”

Mr. Fudge frowned at Finn and shook his head, “This is my friend Finn, he is having a bad day, and I thought he would do well to meet your magnificent self.” 

“He hasn’t made a very good impression.”

Finn felt a lump drop in his stomach. He shuffled his feet back and forth as Cyrus moved from her perch, circling him slowly. This is the way dragons act, so why should he be self-conscious?

“What do you have to say for yourself, Finn the Crimson?”

“I was just enjoying myself.”

“You’ve scared off all of my friends, Crimson-Finn. You hurt them for no reason.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I just, it felt nice, to feel better.”

“You shouldn’t feel better from hurting others, even if you are hurting yourself. In the long run, you won’t feel better.”

“There are fights at the dragon races all the time.”

Cyrus shook her head, “There aren’t, except for Cruz. She isn’t welcome here anymore. Everyone else is careful.”

“I just wanted to feel better.” Finn said miserably, hunching his shoulders. His claws had started turning back into fingers and toes, and he was balancing on his back legs again.

“So why do you feel bad, Finn?” Mr. Fudge asked quietly.

“I didn’t mean to hurt the dragons, I just wanted to feel better.” He tipped back his head and shouted, “I’m sorry!” at the sky, but no one answered.

“They heard you,” Cyrus said after a moment, “but they probably won’t come back for a while.”

“Why do you feel bad, Finn?” Mr. Fudge repeated.

Finn shook his head and shrugged, losing his tail and his big body. His dragon head was so heavy that he fell forward onto the ground as it shrunk.

“Benn was going to take me to the dragon races,” he felt the truth sink into his stomach like a rock, “he said that they had everything figured out, and I didn’t listen to him.” 

“I don’t think he said he was taking you, Finn.”

Finn’s head returned to its normal gnome-y form and he scrambled onto his feet, “Benn is thoughtful. He would not take the weekend away from me, I don’t think.”

“You were very rude to him.”

Finn hung his head with shame, “I don’t deserve to go now, and I know I’ve made him sad. I want to go home, Mr. Fudge,” Finn said abruptly, “I want to apologize to Benn.”

Then Finn turned back to Cyrus and held out his hand, “And I am sorry, for hurting you and your friends. Thank you for not eating me.”

“You are lucky you apologized, Mr. Finn. Otherwise I would’ve eaten you, tiny morsel though you are. I wish you health, and good luck. It’s easier to burn a bridge than to fix one.”

Finn nodded grimly and stood in front of Mr. Fudge, “Take me home, Mr. Fudge. I want to speak with Benn.”

Mr. Fudge smiled, and snapped his fingers, and they were back in Finn’s room.

Finn felt sick as he looked around his room. He saw the destruction he had caused and gulped. He shook Mr. Fudge’s hand and clutched him tightly, running from the room and knocking on Benn’s door. He held his breath.

“Who is it?”

“I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry Benn.” He said to the door.

Finn listened to Benn’s footsteps as he walked across the bedroom and opened his door. His mouth was pursed tight and he folded his arms across his chest, “Go on then.”

Finn squirmed nervously before looking down at Mr. Fudge’s calm eyes. Then he took a deep breath and said, “I am sorry Benn. I said some very rude things and know they are not true. I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Benn raised an eyebrow and blinked at him, “Is that it?”

“I know that you always look out for me, and I made an unfair assumption.”

“And?”

Finn sighed, “I would like to know why dad isn’t free this weekend.”

Benn looked at him hard for a few moments and said, “I am still not happy with you. Finn, you know I was going to take you to the races, right? I had it all planned out.”

Finn bit his lip and looked at his feet. A hot flush crept up his face and he slowly nodded.

“I knew how much the races meant to you, and I thought it would be something cool for us to do together.”

“I’m sorry Benn,” Finn whispered.

Benn crouched down and looked into Finn’s eyes, “I love you, you knucklehead. Dad was more upset than I was.”

Finn fidgeted with Mr. Fudge’s coat, “I shouldn’t have thrown Mr. Fudge at him, that wasn’t nice.”

“No,” Benn said slowly, “No it wasn’t. It was downright rude. But that isn’t why he is so upset.”

Finn furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t understand Benn.”

His brother grabbed him by the shoulders and sighed. Pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, Benn unfolded it and handed it to Finn.

Instantly, Finn recognized his father’s handwriting. The paper had the weekend schedule of the Dragon Races with cramped notes on the photo opportunities, locations of dragons doing autographs, the junk food vendors and an unbelievably full schedule including ice cream, a trip to the Sproutton comic book store, and the hours of the largest candy emporium. Finn looked up at Benn.

“He was so upset, Finn, because he was just as excited as you. Maybe more. He made me promise that we would do every single thing on his list.”

Finn felt hot tears run down his cheeks now, “Why couldn’t he take me?”

“His colleague Willet fell ill. Dad is the only Healer left in town this weekend so he must stay at the infirmary. He really wanted to take you.”

Finn felt sick. He clutched Mr. Fudge to his chest for dear life and sat down in the hallway. He shook his head, “I am awful. He should like you better.”

Benn sunk down beside him and ruffled Finn’s hair, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Finn nodded.

“I was totally worse than you are. What is important is that you learn, and do better next time.”

Finn bit his lip, “I want to go see dad.”

Benn squinted at him thoughtfully, “He’s working, Finn. He’ll already be at work by now. Besides,” he pointed at the list, “if we don’t get moving we are going to miss the rest of the races tonight.”

Finn shook his head and stood up, “I don’t care, I don’t want to see the races if I can’t see dad.”

“I’ll drive the wagon, Benn.” Ma said, stepping out of the shadows, “you both have your bags packed, you can stay at your father’s as planned.” she paused, “I’m not happy with you either mister.”

Finn nodded matter-of-factly and tilted in a small bow, “I am very sorry that I smacked your hand, and kicked the suitcase, and kicked it again, and made you feel bad.”

“And that you made your father cry.”

He squirmed uncomfortably and blushed, “Especially that I made him cry. That wasn’t nice.”

She ruffled his hair, “Thank you Finn. Okay,” she shooed them both down the hall, “Let’s get moving. Let’s not leave your dad in misery one more moment.”

Finn’s belly flip-flopped all the way to Sproutton. He bounced his feet off the wagon floor nervously and picked the dirt out from under his nails. Ma drove fast, her jovial laugh carrying over the wind as the wagon bumped this way and that. Benn laughed along with her, and elbowed Finn too. He couldn’t help it. He laughed. 

When they reached Sproutton, the streets were full of wagons and tourists and delicious smelling food. They passed the stadium, which was already packed with people, and Benn pointed out the flashes of scales that he could see as the dragons rushed around. Finn smiled and nodded, but had his eyes set on the small building built into the hill with the little healing flag flying outside. Ma stopped right out front, and shooed Finn and Benn out of the wagon before getting out herself.

“Are you ready Finn?” she asked quietly.

Finn had already rushed forward, pushing open the door and stared wildly around the reception. His father wasn’t there, so Finn waved at the receptionist and went running into the back. The receptionist rolled her eyes and Finn heard Benn and Ma stop to greet her properly. As he ran through the doors with a loud THUMP he bumped straight into his dad.

“Finn?” his father asked, looking very surprised.

Finn sniffed and hugged him, “I’m sorry dad, I’m sorry.”

His dad wrapped him up in a big, warm hug and squeezed him tight. “I’m sorry I can’t go with you, Finn. I really wanted to.”

“I’m also sorry that I hit you, that wasn’t okay. I won’t do it again.”

“I appreciate that, Finn.”

“Benn and I are going to stay with you this weekend, Benn will watch me, and we can talk ALL weekend about what is happening at the races.”

His dad smiled, “I’d like that very much, Finn.”

Finn hugged his dad again as a nurse waved him over, “See you tonight, dad. And thanks again.”

The weekend wasn’t what he expected, but it was great. Finn and Benn got pictures with Masher and Cruz, watched almost all the races, and came home with bucketfuls of candy to share with their dad when he strolled in late at night at the end of his shift.

The very best part was – Pickle did  beat Stan-Stan. It was the best of the races, and their dad found an hour to come watch it with them.

 

The End