Dreaming of Dragons

I’ve been having this dream about fishing with McDougal

It's fall and most of the leaves are off the trees as we hike toward the stream. I'm not much of a fisherman, but McDougal is. Ties his own flies and shit. We get to the stream and wade out in the water. I never have any luck. My fly is hung in a branch again.

Then a dragon comes out of the water. He asks us who we are.

McDougal leans in close and whispers, "Pretend you're a bear."

His breath stinks of fried eggs, coffee, and tobacco.

"We're just bears," I say. "Fishing for trout."

"Very well," the dragon says. "Then I shall grant you three wishes."

McDougal leans in close again, "Tell him you wish you were a man. That's the first thing a bear would wish for."

He has a long, matted beard that hides infected red bumps on his face.

"Wait," I say. "Is that three wishes a piece, or do we have to split them?"

The dragon eats McDougal.

"Why did you do that, dragon?" I ask.

"Dragons don't understand math. That is to say, we don't do math. We understand the concept: adding and subtracting and dividing and whatnot."

Of course, I'm nervous now. "This is not a wish, but can we smoke cigarettes?"

"Are you a bear?"

"In the woods, I crap."

"Yes, you may smoke."

"Join me," I say.

And we fire up a couple of butts.

"This is good smoke," the dragon says.

"I wish I had a golden barrel of infinite fish."

"Done," the dragon says. He is finished with his cigarette and I have the barrel.

"I want to be a man," I say. "Only, I want to keep these bear hands."

"Done," the dragon says.

"So I'm finished?"

"Yes," the dragon says. And he eats me.

When I am in his stomach, I see McDougal’s head.

"Did you not tell him you are a bear?"

"I did indeed."

"Then why did he eat you?"

"He is a dragon."

Then the dragon is a whale.

"Can we climb out?"

"Did Jonah?"

"See if you can get three more wishes?"

"I have lost my golden barrel of infinite fish."

"Have you? Wish to be free."

"I wish I were free."

Then I am on the deck of a whaler and McDougal rides the dragon through the sea.

I harpoon him in the eye.

"May we have three wishes?" McDougal asks.

"Yes," I say. "I wish you were a bear, I was a dragon, and I had my golden barrel of fish back."

Then we are back in the woods. The dragon is sitting with the bear with a smug way about him. McDougal whispers something to him.

"Can we have three wishes?"

Then someone throws a harpoon in my eye, and I wish it didn't hurt so badly.

And I'm in my bed. And I fall asleep.

It's fall and most of the leaves are off the trees as we hike toward the stream. I'm not much of a fisherman, but McDougal is. Ties his own flies and shit. We get to the stream and wade out in the water. I never have any luck. My fly is hung in a branch again.