CHAPTER 1 - A tastefull Easter

It was the morning of Easter Sunday and it was shaping up to be a beautiful day. A typical spring day, mild temperatures, lots of sunshine and a gentle breeze in the air. The daffodils were in full bloom, turning every meadow into a sea of yellow flowers.

The congregation had gathered in the church and followed the morning service, after which the Easter egg hunt would traditionally begin. Everyone was already looking forward to it and couldn't wait for the pastor to finally dismiss them for Sunday.

With the Pope's oft-repeated words, “Urbi et Orbi”, the preacher finally dismissed his congregation and the assembled citizens streamed out of the church.

The meadow that was traditionally used for the egg hunt was just a few streets away, so it was like a procession as the inhabitants of the small village gathered there.

It was a large, lush meadow that had been cultivated for this purpose for many years. Many of the residents had fond memories of Easter and this meadow. This year would be another wonderful experience. The weather was nice and it was warm, what more could you want?

Everyone had brought their little baskets in which they would collect the colorful eggs and, at the end of the search, choose the winner who had found the most eggs. It was a long-standing tradition that the children got a head start, as they were slower and couldn't even get to some of the eggs.

And so the traditional egg hunt began on Easter Sunday. The children were sent off first and as they dashed onto the field, their parents and the other adults watched them happily and chatted about the weather, politics and the weekend's soccer match.

It went on for quite a while and the children's laughter continued, but as time went on, the meadow quietened down. From their vantage point, the adults could see that the children still had no eggs in their baskets.

This was strange indeed, because even if some of the children were not exactly known for their intelligence, they should at least find a few eggs. Most of the colorful treasures were not that hard to hide.

However, when the first children came to their parents disappointed and handed them the empty baskets, everyone realized that something was wrong. The adults took their baskets and entered the meadow.

As none of the children had found an egg yet, they were careful not to accidentally step on one as they searched the usual hiding places that the children couldn't easily reach. But the adults were also unsuccessful. No matter where they looked, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't find an egg.

Discontent spread among the searchers. It had never happened before that there were no eggs in this meadow on Easter Sunday. Had the Easter bunny forgotten them? The murmuring of the people quickly became louder and the question arose as to whether they had perhaps made a mistake with the date, as Easter was not always on the same day.

However, the pastor immediately dispelled this doubt. Today was Easter Sunday, of that he was absolutely certain. There was no doubt about the date. The Vatican had given them the date. After all, Easter was the highest feast of the Catholic religion.

But where were the eggs then?

The priest had no answer to this question. The mood threatened to change as the first children began to cry.

“Where the hell are those eggs?”

Timmy's father asked, looking around. He had just searched the tree hollow, which was usually a guarantee for at least two or three eggs every year, but this year it was empty. A few meters away, Vivienne's mother was pulling her arm out of one of the brambles, and of course her attempt to find an egg had also been unsuccessful.

“I don't know, but they're definitely not here.”

she replied, pulling some of the thorns out of her hand. They both shook their heads and looked at Geoffrey's father, who was lifting his son up so that he could see into one of the nests in the chestnut tree.

“There aren't any here either, Dad...”

was the sobering statement from little Geoffrey, whose eyes were already reddening.

“I'm sorry, son, apparently the Easter Bunny has forgotten us this year.”

his father tried to reassure him as he sat him back down on the floor. Geoffrey stomped on the floor and crushed one of the daffodils.

“That's not fair! I've been a good boy all year, I didn't even pull that stupid Dörte's hair, even though she was stupid! I want my Easter eggs. I want my Easter bunny. I want...”

he screamed at the top of his voice and started to cry before throwing himself on the floor and kicking his arms and legs. His father bent down to him and tried to calm him down and pick him up, but Geoffrey pushed his hands away each time and only screamed louder the more his father tried to calm him down.

It was a scene that was repeated all over the meadow as parents tried to calm their children down. The adults already knew that there were things in life that could not be influenced, but even they were somewhat surprised that there were no eggs. In fact, this had never happened before.

Some of the parents approached the pastor and asked if he knew why the Easter Bunny had forgotten them.

“I really can't tell you. I am not aware of any sins committed by this congregation that could explain this. Of course, I can only speak of the sins that were confessed to me.”

he replied and looked around. His congregation was quite devout, and almost every Sunday someone sat with him in the confessional and confessed their sins. But in fact, all the sins confessed had been minor, completely harmless offenses. Nothing that couldn't really be cleared up with a sincere apology. He really couldn't explain why they couldn't find any eggs. In the almost forty years he had been pastor in this church, it had never happened before. Not even sixty-seven, when Easter threatened to be covered in snow. This year, most of the eggs had been quite easy to find because the bright colors had stood out so much against the snow.

But not today, the weather was beautiful, it was - as they say - Kaiser weather, and yet there were no eggs to be found.

They were just about to call everyone back and declare the search over when a shrill cry rang out from the far end of the meadow. One of the children seemed to have found something. The sound of the scream did not bode well and so the adults quickly rushed to the child. They feared that the child had found a dead rabbit or something similar. When they finally reached the child, he was crouched on the ground holding something in his hand. It wasn't quite clear at first glance what it was, but it was stuck out from the child's grasp.

“What have you got there?”

Janine's father asked, reaching for the child's hand. The girl let him take the badly painted egg from her hand. It was far too small for an ordinary hen's egg and had been dyed a blotchy red. The adult looked at the egg and then looked under the bush where the child had found it.

There, huddled up and pressed against the trunk of the bush, sat a small green creature. It looked strange, almost like a lizard, but it had wings, and it was carrying a tiny basket and one of those ridiculous hair bands with bunny ears, it was pink.

“What the...?”

Janine's father mumbled and reached for the creature. It squawked loudly, but didn't put up any resistance when he pulled it out from under the bush. Only now did he realize that this little creature was surprisingly close to the traditional images depicting a dragon, only much smaller. Downright tiny.

It squirmed back and forth in his grasp and continued to squawk.

“What the... what is that?”

he asked aloud and the others looked down at the small animal with interest and shock.

He carefully turned it around to face him and was sure that what he was holding was a dragon. The little reptile looked at him with wide eyes and croaked again. Its breathing was rapid and it looked around. Faced with so many people, it gulped and its little mouth moved a few times wordlessly.

“Dr... Dra... Dragon...”

the little winged reptile finally stuttered and placed its small, clawed paws on Janine's father's fingers. He looked at it in disbelief.

“You... you can talk?”

It wasn't so much a question as a statement, and the adult looked around at the other parents as if he needed confirmation of what he had just heard and said. The little dragon nodded, his eyes looking up pleadingly at the human holding him.

“It... was an accident... a mistake...”

the dragon began in his small, squeaky voice. The adults looked at him questioningly.

“What was an accident? Why are you hiding the eggs here? Where is the Easter bunny?”

Janine's father asked, a certain uncertainty evident in his voice. The little dragon looked at him and his lips began to tremble. A whimper escaped the little dragon and he looked around uncertainly.

“It... it was an accident... honestly... I didn't know.”

he began again and curled his little paws tighter around Janine's father's fingers. A soft squawk escaped the dragon and his tail twitched nervously back and forth.

“If I'd known... I'm so sorry... it wasn't intentional... I didn't mean to...”

he continued, becoming more and more agitated as he spoke. The adults around Janine's father became restless. One of them asked a little more sharply than he actually wanted to.

“What happened? What are you sorry for?”

The dragon's little head jerked around to look at the accuser, and now the little reptile burst into tears. He whimpered pitifully.

“I... I ate... I ate the rabbit... I didn't... I didn't know... he was so fluffy... and it tasted so good... it wasn't until I saw the eggs... I'm sooo sorry...”

he wailed and shed bitter tears. The adults gasped and Janine's father looked down at the little dragon in disbelief.

“You... you ate the Easter bunny?”

he asked, stupidly loud enough for some of the children to overhear and naturally start screaming at the top of their voices. The little dragon ducked his head, but nodded.

“It wasn't my intention... I'm trying to make it up to you... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to...”

His voice was shaking as much as the whole dragon, whose tail was now whipping back and forth with fear and tension. It arranged its tiny wings uncertainly and its small claws threatened to pierce the skin on Janine's father's fingers.

While some of the adults tried to reassure the children, who were spiraling into a breakdown, the adults who had stayed with Janine's father tried to find a solution.

“But how could this happen?”

Janine's father asked, stunned... Weren't dragons mythical creatures? Like the Easter bunny? Could mythical creatures even die?

The little dragon was completely distraught.

“I was hungry...”

he admitted meekly, tapping his little fingers together. He sniffled and looked up at Janine's father. He shook his head. It was all so surreal.

“What are we going to do now?”

he asked himself more than anyone else. The adults gathered around him looked at the little dragon expectantly and he opened and closed his little mouth.

He had no plan. It had been clear to him from the start that he would never be able to replace the Easter bunny with the few eggs he had stolen from somewhere and crudely stained with paint. He had also realized that the idea born out of necessity with the bunny ears could not have disguised him as one, but what was he supposed to do? Nothing? Just sweep it under the carpet?

Slowly, he put his little paws back on Janine's father's fingers and lowered his head.

“I... don't know...”

He sounded completely dejected and began to shake again. Slowly, he looked up at the adults from downstairs out of the corner of his eye.

“I'm... I'm sorry...”

The little dragon sighed and hung his head again. Janine's father set him down on the ground and stroked his head before turning back to the others. He let his gaze wander over the meadow and all the chaos and the unsettled and disappointed faces. He pressed his lips together. Who should he blame now? A little dragon that had followed its nature and had eaten a rabbit? A society that had never questioned where the eggs came from and whether that would ever change?

They would have to come up with another solution, the little dragon would never manage that. He looked at his father, who was standing next to him, and then again at the little dragon, who was cowering at his feet like a heap of misery.

“We'll call off the search for today... Then we'll color eggs... and hide them here tonight... Tomorrow morning we'll search... The Easter dragon was just a little late...”

He muttered, looking at the man next to him.

“Your wife's good at the sewing machine, isn't she?”

The man nodded.

“We're going to need a costume...”

Janine's father muttered and they both looked down, where the dragon was smiling sheepishly up at them.