The brick factory

It was a sunny Sunday, and as every week, it was the day to visit his grandparent’s farm.

His father drove through the well-known road to Zumpango. During the journey he played the usual game with her sister: counting red cars, while his mother was singing alongside the stereo.

They finally arrived to the farm beyond the lake. Grandparent’s house. There was grandma, receiving them with her everlasting smile, she was holding a chicken in her arms, it was a special day and that chicken had been selected among the others to be the special dinner.

When they got down from the car there was the usual quaking in the ground. It was Rambo coming to say hello, he was a Great Dane dog, and behind him was Tatu, his eternal companion, who was a little terrier. Both were very happy to see him as they demonstrated with their slobbery greetings.

Grandpa was away in his art workshop, inside the big building that stood tall in the middle of the red field. The building used to be a brick factory, but now all that remained from those days was the red clay of the bricks.

His uncles and cousins arrived later. His uncles went with his parents to the kitchen, to prepare dinner. His cousins took his sister to pick up the purslane that grew behind the brick factory. But he was only five, and he was left alone, as usual.

Every Sunday there was a new adventure for him. Finding the moles in their holes. Running away from the serpents. Playing with the turkeys and the chickens. But there was something that he could never miss. As every week he went to the carrizal beside the factory and took one of the canes. It was not a luxurious sword for a knight, but it worked.

He suddenly stopped. The door to the factory was open. He has never seen the interior of the building, the grownups were always speaking about the dangers inside. It was forbidden for him to enter. But he had his cane, he was a knight and he was prepared to face whatever was inside. So he entered in the brick factory.

There was red dirt everywhere, he tried to mask the noise of his cough but he couldn’t. He kept walking while watching the sunlight that streamed through the windows, it looked as an abandoned castle. But it was not abandoned, someone or something was staring at him. He prepared his cane, but he was not ready for that encounter. Before him was something enormous. It was tall as anything he had seen in his life. It had a long neck, as a giraffe. His body was covered with a dirty red cloth, the same as his head. He trembled before the dragon. He knew that his cane would be of no use against that enemy, so he threw it away and ran. He failed himself as a knight, but he was not wearing a shiny armor and he had no shield, maybe that was enough of an excuse and he would not be casted away from The Knights Order.

Finally he found a refuge. His grandpa´s workshop. Grandpa was there, painting a rooster in a rooftop. He left his tools aside and hugged him while asking why a young boy was alone in that place. But there was no time to explain, the dragon was behind the door.

Grandpa was surprised about the discovery of the dragon, but it was not dangerous, not from many years ago as he later explained. He had not moved since the factory closed. His name was Crane, and he was left there because he was too old. Just as he was left behind for being too young.