The Magician smiled at such an unexpected and amusing idea. "Clubbing? But he is such an old…"
He found himself corrected by his son. "He is in his heart such a young man, still has his own hair, just a little grey, and he is full of life. He will have fun."
The invisible dragon was absolutely correct, and his father knew it. "How did you get so wise, my good son?"
The young dragon knew that such a response meant his father's answer was yes, so he did a quick loop-the-loop out of joy. "I learned wisdom from you …and my grandfather helped a lot."
So, later that evening, the three of them were soaring over the south-east of England towards London. Chronos, seated on the dragon's shoulders in front of his son the Magician, was curious about their adventure to come. "Are you going to tell me where you are taking me?"
The Magician explained. "Your grandson goes flying along the Thames in London a lot. Always has. He told me that late at night he sees many people who are in a wonderful, joyous mood. So, he wants you to experience what they are doing. We are going clubbing."
Chronos was very confused. "Clubbing? Isn't that beating up small defenseless creatures?"
The Magician explained through and amused giggle. "No, my excellent and slightly out-of-touch father. It's a modern form of dance."
The Magician saw his father nod, in the way he always had whenever he learned something new.
His invisible son spread his wings and rose into the sky as his father and grandfather walked under the railway arches and headed to an illuminated sign that read Heaven. They arrived at the doorway.
The doorman was surprised that a man who appeared to be in at least his early 70s would want to dance to hardcore trance music. "Hey, old man, are you sure you wanna go inside?"
Chronos answered his question with complete honesty. "I am one of the Ancient Ones. We are masters of the Universe, responsible for ensuring that love continues to flow at all times. My grandson, the invisible dragon, thinks I will have fun going clubbing."
The doorman turned his gaze to the younger man next to him, who seemed less eccentric. Then he noticed the family resemblance, and was curious. "Is he your father?"
The Magician knew the situation must seem very strange, so he tried to give a simple explanation. "My son thinks it's a cool idea if I take his grandfather clubbing, for one night in his life. I think it's cool idea too."
The doorman wondered about letting a guy who was a bit strange into the club. So the kid wants his nutty grandfather to have a good night. And the father digs the idea. That ain't so bad. He looked at Chronos, but directed his voice at the Magician. "If I let him in, you'll look after him, won't you?"
The Magician offered to shake hands, as a gesture of agreement. "Yes, of course."
Gentlemanly manners, such as shaking hands to signify a gentleman's agreement, are rare in nightclub culture. It took a moment for the doorman to react. He looked the Magician in the eye, and then shook hands in return.
From the moment their palms touched, the Magician's supra-conscious being understood the life of the doorman. Within a nano-second, he saw who this young doorman really was. How proud he was of his physique, which through so much physical discipline was strong and powerful. Many women were attracted to his negro musculature, but often they saw through the strong-man shell to the vulnerable child inside.
The Magician saw a fortress of cold iron and stone around his heart, keeping bad memories at bay. He saw the beatings from the doorman's childhood. He saw the hypnotically repeated lie. Real men don't cry.
The Magician felt his emotions bursting. But he could never explain to the doorman the source of sudden tears. In the next nano-second he cast a small spell, and a mask of composure appeared on his face.
The doorman felt something different. In the same nano-second he felt a little light within. Although he didn't know it, for the first time in his life another sentient being had listened to and understood his story. Someone who understood what he needed.
He didn't know why, but he decided to do something nice for the middle-aged man taking his aging eccentric father clubbing. He withdrew his hand and called inside to the attractive young woman collecting the cost of entry. "Estelle, these guys are my friends. Can we let 'em in for free?"
Estelle looked up at the Magician and Chronos, then back at the doorman. "You da boss o' me, sugar. Anything you want, you know that."
The Magician looked at Estelle, then spoke with the doorman in a wordless language. He looked him in the eye, gave an imperceptible nod of his head toward Estelle and raised his eyebrows. The doorman knew this wordless language very well. He knew the Magician was asking him a question. Is that incredibly gorgeous woman your lover?
The doorman was about to play it big, and act like she was. But he sensed the Magician already knew the answer, and lying was worthless. He shook his head. "It's not the right time."
The Magician leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. "Ask her out for a drink, and treat her like a lady. Candles, music, romance. Enjoy it all. Stop wasting time."
The doorman liked that idea. But change is always a challenge. He responded by challenging the Magician's manliness. "You had better get inside and take dear old Dad dancing."
Chronos knocked over the challenge with two words. "Respect, please."
The Magician shepherded his father into the club. As he passed Estelle, he called out loudly in a playful, comic voice. "If the guy on the door ever asks you out for a drink, say yes! You'll have the time of your life!" He and Chronos disappeared into a nightclub called Heaven.
Estelle looked at the doorman, and raised her eyebrows. He looked back, and made his mind up to stop wasting time. "Are you free after work, Estelle?"
:::
Many hours later, Estelle and the doorman saw a very interesting scene. An very old man came out of Heaven, dancing like a wild thing. He was filled with energy, shining like the sun, talking to strangers a quarter of his age about anything and everything. The doorman stopped the Magician to ask him a quick question. "What did you give him?"
The Magician looked at his aging father with an expression of bemused joy. "Rum and coke. Two, actually. We had a great time. Thanks for letting us in."
Chronos' wild dancing in the street had caught the attention of a few nightclubbers leaving the club. One of them turned to the doorman. "That guy looks like Mick Jagger. Mick is about 70 years old now, isn't he?"
The doorman was having one of the most enjoyable moments of his life. "Yes."
In the next moment, Chronos and the Magician found themselves being followed down the street by a small group of screaming, intoxicated Londoners. "It's Mick Jagger!! It's him!! Mick, Mick, we love you!!!"
The Magician sent a supra-conscious message to his son. "Dragon, you better come and get us."
:::
A few days later, the Magician went flying over the jungles of Burma with his son. The dragon was curious about his father's preoccupied mood. "What is on your mind father? You have been a little distant in the days since our little escapade with Chronos in London."
The Magician was unsure how to reply. His wonderful dragon son had only ever known love. The doorman came from a totally different kind of childhood. He didn't want to explain to his son what violence against a child does. Beating up small defenseless creatures. He didn't know what to say, so he made up his mind to ask Chronos for a little advice when he got home.
For the present moment, he changed the subject. "Let's go and visit the Poet Caster. I feel a need for the spirit of the Great Southern Land."
This story is dedicated to the screaming, intoxicated Londoners who, in the wee small hours of the morning, would accost me shouting "Sting!!! It's Sting!!! Sting, I love your music!!!"
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