“Did you know there’s a dragon under Fisherman’s Wharf?” 

 

Lance paused mid-chew. He looked at Martha, a confused expression on his face. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I said, did you know there's a dragon under-” 

 

“No, I heard you the first time. What do you mean?” 

 

Martha returned his confused look. “I mean– Dude, you know what dragons are, right?” 

 

“Yes, I know what dragons are!” 

 

“Okay then. One of those lives under Fisherman’s Wharf.” 

 

Lance stared at her. “Dragons aren’t real!” 

 

Martha snickered. “Yeah, they are!” 

 

“Nuh-uh.” 

 

“Yuh-huh!” 

 

“Nuh-uh!” 

 

“Yuh-huh!” 

 

“Nuh-” Lance is cut off by Martha grabbing his half-eaten sandwich and forcefully shoving it in his mouth. 

 

“I'm telling you, Lance, I saw one.” She said. 

 

Lance coughed up the sandwich and rubbed his throat. “Fine, whatever.” 

 

“You still don’t believe me?” 

 

“Not really.” 

 

“I did! I really did!” 

 

“Prove it!” 

 

“Well, I can’t prove it now.” 

 

“Why not?” 
 

“It's high tide.” She pointed toward the ocean. Through the thick fog, they could see that the water had covered most of the beach. “The underside of the boardwalk is flooded.” 

 

“Fair point.” Lance stood up and brushed the sand off his sweats. “But did you really expect me to believe you? You know how I feel about these superstitions of yours.” 

 

“They're not superstitions. What about that ghost we found at the old jailhouse downtown?” 

 

“That wasn’t a ghost. That was a child messing with the door.” 

 

“A ghost child!” 

 

“You kicked him, and he started crying. Not a ghost.” 

 

“Fine.” She stood up and began walking toward the dock. 

 

“Where are you going?” 

 

“Home. I'm going to show you proof. C’mon.” 

 

Lance sighed and followed Martha. They climbed onto the dock, grabbed their bikes, and headed home. 

 

They rode slowly. Their bike lights were practically useless through the thick fog. 

 

“Why did we come out here in this weather?” Lance asked. “I told you it would be a pain getting home.” 

 

“You wanted to do something other than video games,” Martha said. 

 

“Yeah. I meant, like, a movie.” 

 

“That’s boring.” 

 

Half an hour passed. They arrived at Martha’s house. A typical two-story suburban home at the edge of Seaside. The house was filled with various Japanese furniture. Lance stared at a wall filled with crucifixes. 

 

“I always forget your mom has those.” Lance said. 

 

“What’s wrong with them?” 

 

“I don’t know. They’re just kind of unnerving.” 

 

“And you call me superstitious.” She walked down the hall and turned toward the stairs. 

 

“Mama!” She yelled down the hall, “Lance is here! We’re going up to my room.” 

 

Her mom yelled something back in Japanese. 

 

“Yes, Mama.” 

 

Lance followed her up. Martha’s room was filled with a mishmash of pastel colors. One side of her room was covered in 2000s anime and K-pop posters; the other was covered in posters of ghosts, cryptids, and aliens. 

 

She opened her closet. Clothes and shoes flew out as she searched for something. 

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

“Looking for my proof… Here it is!” 

 

Martha stood up and presented a tattered old book titled Cryptids and Creatures of Monterey, California. 

 

“What is that?”  

 

“Proof!” 

 

“Weird books are not proof.” 

 

“At least hear me out!” She opened the book and flipped to a specific page. “Here, read it and weep, Mr. Skeptic!” 

 

Lance took the book. It was opened to a chapter on “The Bobo.” 

 

“Legend tells of an ancient sea serpent that haunts the docks of Monterey.” He read, “The Bobo is a winged, fire-breathing monster. Said to be the child of Old Scratch himself, sailors have witnessed it feasting on the flesh of seals, seagulls, and sometimes, humans. It is recognized by its slender, scaled body, red wings, and monkey-like face. 

 

Lance turned the page and was met with a crude drawing of the creature. He grimaced. 

 

“Dude, really?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“This is nonsense. Where did you get this?” 

 

“The Rose Bookshop. That’s one of the few copies in existence!” Martha beamed with pride. 

 

“I don’t think you know what proof is.” 

 

Her face fell. “C'mon, that book’s from 1904! Why would they lie about that stuff way back then? They wouldn’t have anything to gain like internet fame.” 

 

“They could gain newspaper fame. Besides, the 1900s were boring. Making up stories was one of their few entertainment outlets.” 

 

Martha sighed, “Whatever, man.” 

 

She turned around and began digging in her closet again. 

 

“What are you doing now?” 

 

“Just going to put the book back. Here, hold this.” 

 

She placed a strange-looking rock in Lance’s hands. 

 

“What is this?” 

 

“Something I found on the beach near the Wharf.” 

Lance examined it closer. The outside resembled a purple crystal. It felt strangely fragile. He placed his ear on the rock and heard a small steady thump. 

 

“…Martha.” 

 

“Uhuh?” 

 

“I don’t think this is a rock.” 

​

She turned around. “What?” 

 

“This is an egg.” 

 

They stared at each other. 

 

Martha sprung up and screamed in joy. “A dragon egg!” 

 

Her mom yelled angrily in Japanese. 

 

“Sorry, Mama!” She closed her door and turned toward Lance. “I told you! Dragon!” 

 

“Now, hold on! We don’t know that for sure.” 

 

“Be so for real. Have you ever seen an egg like that before?” 

 

“…No.” 

 

“Dragon!” 

 

“No! It's probably some endangered species’ egg, and you should put it back where you found it.” 

 

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll grab my coat. Go get your bike.” 

 

They rode down to the Wharf. The boardwalk was crowded with guests despite the thick fog. They locked up their bikes and went to the beach. 

 

Lance grumbled as they waded through ankle-deep water.

 

“What were you even doing down here?” 

 

“Oh, I fell off the boardwalk.” 

 

Lance stared at her. “Were you trying to feed seals again?” 

 

“No!” 

 

Lance raised his eyebrow. 

 

“Maybe… Yeah. Yeah, I was.” 

 

“You're an idiot.”  

 

“Takes one to know one. Anyway, I think I found the egg around here.” She pointed at a pile of rocks sticking out of the ocean. The boardwalk was now directly above them. 

 

Martha took the egg out of her bag and climbed onto the rocks. 

 

“Careful!” Lance yelled. 

 

“I’ve got it!” Two seconds later, she tripped and dropped the egg. 

 

Lance tried to grab it but tripped and fell face-first into the ankle-deep water. 

 

The egg smashed onto the side of the rock, and a huge crack formed across its surface. 

 

Lance tentatively picked it up. 

 

“Is it okay?” Martha asked. 

 

“I think it's fine.” 

 

The egg cracked more. 

 

“Never mind.” 

 

Pieces of the egg began to fall off. A small foot stuck out of the egg. Martha grabbed it out of Lance’s hands. It completely broke apart, and Martha was left holding a small, slimy creature. It had a strange, almost dog-like face, a slender, scaly body, and two thin, bony appendages protruding from its back. 

 

“Aww!” Martha said. “I'm going to name him Dave.” 

 

“Please don’t keep it.” 

 

“Too late. I’m attached.” 

 

Lance sighed. He turned around and headed back to the beach. Then, he felt a drop of water land on his shoulder. He looked up and saw two glowing red eyes staring through the fog. 

 

His voice quivered. “Martha…” 

​

She looked up. “Oh, there's the dragon!” 

 

The dragon swooped down. Its jaws snapped at Lance, but he ducked just in time. 

 

“Run!” He shouted. 

 

The pair ran out from underneath the boardwalk. Once out, Lance looked behind him. He saw the dragon wading through the shallow water. Its body was long and covered in green scales. It had two massive red wings and the face of a monkey. Steam emanated from its nostrils and blended in with the fog. 

 

“Well, do you believe me now?” Martha asked. 

 

“Yes! Yes, I believe you! Idiot!” 

 

Martha grinned. 

 

The pair climbed onto the dock, hopped on their bikes, and rode away. The dragon climbed onto the shore and began to chase after the kids. The boardwalk guests screamed in terror as the dragon crashed through the sides of buildings and flipped over cars. 

 

“Dude! It’s gaining on us!” Lance said. 

 

“Quick, down the alley!” The pair quickly turned on their bikes and squeezed through a tight alley. The dragon was unable to fit through. 

 

Lance and Martha rode their bikes until they reached Cannery Row. 

 

Lance panted. “Okay, I think we lost it.” He got off his bike and collapsed in the street. 

 

Martha wiped the sweat from her brow. “That was awesome!” 

 

“No! It wasn’t! We almost died!” 

 

“That’s why it was awesome.” 

 

Lance grumbled to himself. Martha reached into her bag and pulled out the baby dragon. 

 

“You kept it?” Lance yelled. 

 

“Yeah!” 

 

“You idiot! That’s why it was chasing us!” 

 

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t consider that. But it should be fine. Look how cute and peaceful it is.” Martha began to pet the top of its head with her finger. Suddenly, the baby let out a piercing cry. 

 

Lance covered his ears. “Put it down!” 

 

“Okay, okay!” 

 

Before she could, a shrieking yell exploded from behind them. The Bobo was perched on top of a building. Flames shot from its mouth, setting the roof ablaze. It dashed over to the top of the Bubba Gump’s sign, knocking it loose from its fixture. 

 

Lance snatched the baby from Martha’s hands. He ran down toward the beach and stuck his hands up into the air. 

 

“Hey! Bobo! Come take it!” 

​

The Bobo turned its attention to Lance. It swooped down and perched right in front of him. Steam shot out of its nostrils, thickening the fog around Lance. It stared at him, an intense fire in its eyes. Then, it snatched the baby away, turned, and flew toward the ocean. 

 

Lance fell to his knees. 

 

Martha walked up next to him. “See? Awesome.” 

 

“I just wanted to watch a movie.” 

 

They watched as the Bobo flew through the fog and past the horizon. 

 

Martha and Lance would never encounter a dragon again. But ever since that day, Lance noticed much less fog in Monterey. 

​