Thelonious and the Dragon, part II
Thelonious knew Guillaume de Gaulle from the dominoes club he once belonged to (but was ejected from due to a number of upset games). Guillaume de Gaulle was a nasty man, and a cheater at dominoes. His appearance fed into Thelonious’ suspicions, and rightly so, for Guillaume de Gaulle confirmed everything when he came to Thelonious, on an early evening stroll through the park, and announced that Thelonious had an appointment.
“An appointment?” Thelonious squawked. The impish Guillaume hissed in his ear, “Indeed…with a dragon!” Thelonious cried out, “Oh dear, what does a dragon want with me?” There was a crack of wood in the distance. “Why, to eat you up, of course!” Guillaume de Gaulle said with perverse pleasure. Thelonious turned white with fear as a baseball struck him in the back of his head; he rubbed it whining, “Where? When?” Guillaume de Gaulle snapped, “On the commons, midnight!” Thelonious said, “Well I won’t be there!” Guillaume de Gaulle’s eyes went wide, “-and not keep an appointment?” he said, “with a dragon? Why, if you don’t appear he’ll not only devour you, but all you love!” With that Guillaume de Gaulle leapt off into the night.
Thelonious sent an urgent telegram to his friend Albert Ethelbert. Albert was a historian, but unbeknownst to Thelonious, he was a terrible one. Albert’s money came chiefly from constantly winning small prizes in the lottery. He told no one of this, least of all Thelonious, for Thelonious had come to trust Albert’s readings of history and poor Albert did not want to disappoint his friend. They agreed to meet at a favorite café of theirs in the city. “I’m late,” Thelonious apologized when he at last showed, “a landau struck me on the way.” The tea arrived then, scalding Thelonious’ lap, and he apologized again, “I apologize again, but I’m in something of a hurry. My appointment is in less than an hour!”
“Well, I think I can be of some assistance,” Albert offered. “Your Guillaume de Gaulle is, no doubt, so called because he traces his line back to the Gauls of southern Europe, who in ancient times were called the Gauldarnits.” Thelonious gently dabbed his lap with a napkin, “And this relates to the dragon?” “More directly than I first presumed!” Albert read from his notes, “You see, the Gauldarnits were sacked by marauders from Tartarstan, who ate their food, and cursed like sailors, poisoning the ears of children. The desperate Gauldarnits had no recourse but to summon the great serpent, Vespasian I, in hopes of frightening off the menacing Tartars. Propriety dictated that the Gauldarnits appoint a herald for the beast, for which they chose ‘Gilles de Gaul’, no doubt an ancestor of your Guillaume!” Thelonious gathered his things, “Well, I thank you for your help, Alby.” Albert wished his dear friend the best of luck, but as Thelonious left the café a migrating duck suffered a stroke, fell out of the sky, and rapped him on the head.
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