*****
Paige didn't remember much from that time.
The odd, happy day at the beach. The occasional camping trip.
What she remembered most was being trapped in her head. Of being unreasonably upset about things she couldn't change. And of being numb and unmotivated about things she could.
Change, that is.
Mostly she remembered how most of the time it seemed very important to play her assigned part in the life that had unfolded, almost unwittingly, around her.
Yes, there was safe. Safe was good. It was just a shame that the safe made her feel so numb.
So, when she felt the new vibrations, she knew that her safe had had a bit of a jolt. And that her numb safe was neither quite so numb or safe anymore.
She didn't know how.
She didn't know why.
But it put her in mind of the dragon shop.
In country Qld, Australia, there is a section of road between the coastal towns of Boyne Island and Agnes Waters that contains - or used to contain - a property with a sign proclaiming there are dragon eggs on the premises.
The section of road is actually a section of highway difficult to slow down on, let alone stop.
And it's a section of highway that generally means you're at a stage in your trip where you don't want to stop. The lure of the car has taken over. You want to get where you're going or get home.
These two things make it an unlikely place to ever have large numbers of cars pulling off the highway - it does seem like a rather fraught with danger and potential car crash type of place to do it - to check out said dragon eggs.
But the main reason people don't stop - apart from the indeed warranted and quite sensible car collision apprehension - is that they don't believe it.
Oh, they believe it in a sense. They just don't believe that what the sign is proclaiming is that there are actual dragon eggs there.
Even though the sign does come with a cute picture of a dragon on it, so you never know.
But they think, rather, that it will be some quaint little craft shop with hand painted eggs. Or some cute name for a manicured pot plant, or a boiled egg with chili or the like.
And while someone may be willing to risk a potential car collision, or endure the inconvenience of an unplanned detour to see a real dragon and a real dragon egg, they were not going to do it if they believed there were no real dragons, or their eggs, on said property.
Of course, there was many a car passenger, well perhaps only a handful come to think of it, who fervently hoped that there were real dragon eggs on the property. And this hope made them want to stop.
They were prepared to be disappointed in what they found.
But they were also prepared to be ecstatic in what they found. They were prepared to find dragons. And they were prepared to find dragon eggs.
Invariably these people were imprisoned in cars with those who held no such hope, and who's only belief was that there were no dragons, or their eggs, and they must press on! Get home to watch the telly or have a little nap. Fall asleep.
But what if there were dragons there?
What if there were little baby dragons poking their heads out of big purple dragon eggs?
What if there was a big mother dragon nearby? And if you were one of the lucky ones, would they take you to see her?
When Paige was little, her family used to take her to a small country town in South Australia, that had a Bunyip cave by the river. If you put 20 cents in a machine, the bunyip would rise out of the ground in the cave and scare the beejesus out of you. As a child, the Bunyip looked very big and very real.
It was quite possibly the best thing that many children had ever seen. Paige didn’t remember much of what she spent 20 cents on as a child. But that bunyip was one of them.
They were chased off the last time they were there. Told it was offensive to the indigenous people of that area. Paige was genuinely sorry if it was, and felt awful. She’d meant no harm and no offense. She just thought the Bunyip was wonderful.
This same town also had a fish and chip shop that sold $2 worth of chips that would feed a family of five, and were quite simply the best chips in the world. Paige could still taste those chips thirty years on. They were still the yardstick she used to measure all chips, and she was yet to find their equal.
There may have been many towns with chips as good, if not better. But at the end of the day, if you don't stop, get out of the car and have a look around, you won't know.
You won't know that a Bunyip which rises from a cave for 20 cents is awesome but offensive. You won't have met those people who told you that, and chased you away from the Bunyip, and offered you a different interpretation of the world.
You won't carry the taste of the best fish & chip shop chips in the world with you for thirty years or more, and hope to meet their equal for $2 to feed a family of five.
And you won't ever know for sure that there weren't real dragon eggs on that nondescript property on that awkward piece of Qld road.
Of course, even if you do stop and check it out, you still might not know for sure.
Because if you're with one of those non-believery types who didn't want to stop in the first place, and just wants to get home and do something practical like watch the telly, then Paige believed they might hide them.
As a precautionary measure. All part of the vicious circle of only seeing what we believe and then only believing what we see.
If your beliefs are off, or a bit limited or dumb, you're screwed!
But on the bright side, you're likely to plod through life not seeing anything too challenging.
Paige had not thought about these things for a long time.
But now with the new vibrations, Paige felt a powerful calling to uproot, pack a suitcase and leave everything behind. She had a sense that she needed to be across the other side of the world. That something was coming she should be close to. Be a part of.
Which would have been nice for a change. Because often Paige didn't feel a part of things at all.
But this surge of purpose only lasted a few days. And then the longing for the safety and the numbness returned. And long used to winning over all else, they simply took up their victor's mantle with ease again.
Paige settled back into her comfortable old routines.
The first night the Elemental came, she stood at the lounge room window and drew back the curtain. Peering out into the dark night and wondering what was out there.
And then seeing nothing, she began to worry some hobo or freak was outside, watching her looking out. And she pulled the curtains tightly closed, and checked all the locks on the doors.
Unseen, and now curtained off, the Elemental pulled back from the glass. Thoughtfully.
There was bush over the other side of the road across from the house.
It liked bush. It would wait there.
Because that's the thing, and the Elemental knew this. Sometimes life lets you plod along in safe and numb until the end of days.
And sometimes it picks you up kicking and screaming from safe and numb and plops you down, often quite unceremoniously, somewhere different.
Paige was about to get plopped.
And the Elemental could wait.