Chapter 5: The Gold Dragon

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Rebecca closed her eyes, then opened them again, unable to believe what she was seeing. She had seen monsters, two sets of them, and fairies and a tiny boy stuck in a Mason Jar. Now, in a haunted house that she had slept in overnight, she was staring at the same boy, fully grown and standing before her. He was just like any other person, a regular guy, though slightly pale, and his body seemed tired.

Rebecca brought her hand upward, shaking from exhilaration and adrenaline. She wanted to touch his face, and feel his skin; she wanted to make sure it was him. But he pulled back slightly.

"I don't," he said, but wasn't sure how to proceed. "I just, I don't think I should push it."

"How?" Rebecca said, being the only thing she could get out of her mouth.

"I don't know," he replied. He was wrapped in a dirty sheet, and some plastic from the kitchen floor. His eyes looked at her, seeing her at a regular size, and he smiled again.

"Did the ghost leave? Is she still here?"

"I really don't know," he replied. "But uh, I would rather not stand here is some gross sheets."

"Oh, right, of course," she said, stepping out of the room and leading him out.

"Maybe there are some old clothes or something in here somewhere," he said as he went walking about the house. Rebecca followed him around, staring at him. He was a head or two taller than she was and he looked down on her when he walked by. His smile kept filling her with the same dreaded relief that she had when she first saw him. She would smile back and then look away blushing.

He stepped into a room and came out with a pair of ruddy old black pants and a shirt with a sweater vest over it. He presented himself to her and she clapped in admiration. He smiled, bowed and walked passed her in the hallway. Making his way to the small room with the rocking chair, he saw an ancient record player and laughed.

"I always loved these," he said. He turned the crank a few times and placed the needle on the warped and dusty record. It played in an odd tune, but beautiful none the less. The stings of the orchestra sang out in the wooden house, and the rhythm made Ty shake his body back and forth. He weaved about the room, dancing with only himself, as if he was in the concert hall of the recording.

"Ty," Rebecca said, leaning on the corner of the room and watching him dance. "Don't you think we should get going?"

"Why would we go?" he asked undistracted. "I have spent so long on that bottle. I just wanna move and dance!" He came swinging around and grabbed Rebecca's hand. He held her close and hummed along with the tune. She followed his lead, but looked concerned.

"What about your sister?" Rebecca asked.

"My sister?" Ty seemed taken back. "Right, my sister. Of course. But let me just enjoy this song, and then we will go. Don't you like dancing with me?" he asked back.

She did indeed enjoy dancing with him. His strong arms held her close, his right hand held her left in the air and his left hand wrapped around her waist. She nodded and let herself be taken around the room by the suddenly free and high spirited Ty.

They waltzed around the room, and the cool air became warm once more in the house. The floor creaked under their steps. Ty spun Rebecca several time and she laughed as he dipped her. He laughed as she tried to take lead, only to step on his feet. Soon, the song came to a coda and they slowed their spin, and simply held each other.

"Do you know the things that I have done?" he asked, seemingly out of nowhere. Rebecca looked up at him, question in her eyes.

"What? What do you mean?" she asked.

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