Entry 12: 

I balanced the phone against my shoulder while Pops rambled about home. Meanwhile, I added the new name to the bottom of my monster list.  A stack of papers with a bunch of staples driven into its top-left corner (I always needed new paper) sat in the center of the table. 

Nine names already sat inside the world's ugliest info packet. Each included detailed paragraphs outlining practical advice on how to deal with those names. The back had four pages left. I flipped over and began transferring what I had to my notepad. It was always a tedious job, and Dad chirping in my ear didn’t make it any easier. 

“Papito, Bruno then asked me if he could skip his stone-throwing lesson. I said Your brother can’t skip out on his responsibilities, so neither can-” 

“-Whoa, now, don’t use me to guilt-trip the others. I want no part of that. And Dad, you can’t force Bruno into being the next strongman just cuz he's short like you.” 

“His leverage is incredible, Papito. He needs to know that! Besides, I’m just reminding your siblings that we all share a burden.” 

“Speaking of sharing, can ya tell Laretta to mail me back my copy of ‘Catch-22?’ I’ve had an address for a while now.”

“Wasn’t that Rio’s?” 

“No, Pop. It was mine. I was halfway done with it. It has all my notes.” 

“Oh…well, I made her give it to Rio Papito.”

“Then tell him to send it!” 

“I would…but he said he was gonna give it to that girl Maya, who used to sleep near our trailer. You know how he feels about her…

“So, because Rio has a crush on the girl next door, you're gonna let the kid take my book? I survived a giant centipede attack for that one pop.” 

“You're putting me in a tough spot, Papito.”  

“AH, come on!”  I said. I love my dad, but the guy just didn’t understand. He wasn’t a Runner, not officially. Mom met him during a show on City Island. He applied for a strongman job because he liked lifting. They told him no, that it was a family business. He responded by hitting on the toughest person in the whole damn commune, my mom. Six kids later, he's still around. I was probably the biggest shock of his life, though. His first child is coming into the world- and I’m hissing and roaring right out of the womb. 

 Speaking to dragons, the Runners' innate gift found in their firstborn children, requires mana. Monsters find that fact delicious. If you're a Runner who decides to roar, you’re no longer a person. You're a snack and not in a good way.  Dragons are basically extinct, so that ‘power’ is an even greater curse than just having Runner’s blood. No one messed with us when we hung out with a five-ton god lizard. It was different these days. Now, we're the bottom of the food chain, humans cursed to roam forever or die in the most gruesome way possible. Even our mighty roar had just become a dinner bell. My father adapted well, though. He kept me alive, despite the odds. 

“Oh, Papito, we want to see you. Mom was thinking of convincing the chief to shift our move up near New York by the holidays.” 

“You're not just missing easy access to quenepas?” 

“Oh, come on. It's been nearly five years since we saw you. Look, when I met your mom, no one told me about the Dragon migration or that her entire family did it. Pensé que estaba loca. And it’s hard not seeing family.” 

“You’re nuts for following her. And plus I’m…not sure I wanna see her yet.” 

“Chris, it's not that bad. You will find a dragon soon. I know it!” When he said that, I heard him pumping his chest with his fist. 

“Yeah, papi,” I said. The big lizards were wiped out before I was born, so I’d never seen one. But the Pilgrimage has always been a part of my life. When it became obvious to my ancestors that we wouldn’t last long without the Dragons, the pilgrimage started. All firstborns, the ones who could actually speak to dragons, must find them and bring them home. It's like being the chosen one, only there are a thousand of you from different places around the world, and you're not expected to make it to thirty. I let out a heavy sigh, walking around my pool table.  On the far end was my copy of the Odyssey. It was the story about an old king returning from war, but getting lost on his way home. In that time, he fought monsters and made deals with gods before losing all sense of himself. Even when he returned to his kingdom, nothing was the same. The book was a gift, but unlike the rest of the stories in my house, I still didn't know how it ended. 

Those last few pages always seemed heavier to lift with each passing day. Next to it was a massively stuffed file I'd filled up over time with the words "map of nopes” written on the front. I opened it.