Read Online The Story of Owen by E. K. Johnston - Free Book Online Page B

over-the-top music videos that incurred the wrath of pretty much everyone over the age of forty, until halfway through her second album when the subversively brilliant, pro-dragon slayer nature of her music became apparent. Still, I didn’t exactly want to follow her model either. For starters, I can’t walk in regular platform shoes, and Lady Gaga’s shoes are typically closer to architectural features than they are to footwear.
    The more I thought about it—and I thought about it rather a lot after I kind of impulsively accepted Lottie’s offer—the more I realized that for more than a century, and probably longer, dragon slayers and bards hadn’t been working together, and that was the problem. I still didn’t know exactly how I could help Owen, or if I could write songs with lyrics, but I was starting to understand that
the idea
of teamwork was more important than anything I might write about us. It was the image of it, dragon slayer and bard, that we were going to restore. Sure, it would help if the actual content was good, but the fact that the songwriting was secondary went a long way toward bolstering my confidence.
    Almost none of that helped me explain it to my parents.

PARENTAL CONCERN AND SWORD LESSONS
    Dinner at Owen’s became a weekly event. Well, eventually. The next Thursday night, when I told them I was going out again on Friday, I was surprised when Mum put on her most serious “we need to talk about your prognosis” face.
    â€œSiobhan,” she said. “Your father and I have talked, and we’re not entirely comfortable with this decision.”
    â€œTo go to a friend’s house for dinner?” I said. “You’ve been shoehorning me out of the house for years.”
    â€œWe meant to a dragon slayer’s house for dinner,” Dad said.
    I looked at him with confusion. “I’m pretty sure I’m not on the menu, dad.”
    â€œMaybe not
their
menu,” Mum said. “But you’ve only been there once and you already volunteered to fight dragons with them. I just think we should talk about that.”
    â€œI’m not fighting dragons!” I said. “I’m pretty sure they’re not even going to let me watch until I’m older. They’re just planning ahead.”
    Mum and Dad exchanged a glance, and I knew I’d stepped in it. They were all for me planning ahead, but they preferred it to be more along the lines of picking a university, or something equally unlikely to get me set on fire.
    â€œSiobhan,” Mum said after a long moment. “You know your father and I support you and your music. And I know you think that the Thorskards have the best intentions, but we’re your parents. It’s our job to think about your safety.”
    â€œBelieve me,” I said. “I am thinking about my safety. And it’s just dinner tomorrow.”
    In the end, Hannah had to call them and tell them that she and Lottie would be supervising us. My mother somehow managed to get her to promise to teach me how to use a sword as part of the bargain, which was not something I would ever have anticipated. Mum and Hannah took a more or less instant liking to one another, by virtue of the fact that they were both possessed of a goodly amount of common sense. Once she got over being starstruck, Mum got on well with Lottie too. I don’t think she anticipated spending afternoons having tea with one of the more famous married couples in Canada, but when it became apparent that Hannah and Lottie had adopted her, Mum more than rose to the occasion. For his part, Dad only insisted that Owen come over to our house for dinner a couple of times as well. I think Dad was more worried about teenage hormones than he was about the dragon slaying, which Owen thought was terrifying and I thought was actually kind of funny.
    And that’s how I went from Siobhan McQuaid, unassuming music lover, to Siobhan McQuaid,