One Night at Dagaron's
A kaiju short story
Sometimes an idea hits you and you just have to see where it goes. In this case, it’s “What if someone built a pop-up restaurant on a sleeping kaiju?”
Reminder that I’m also accepting requests for art commissions. Please see this post for details!
We met up for our first date in front of Dagaron's Lounge at 8:30. The location was a mile or so out of town, in a field off the highway, the ground still slushy from this afternoon's rain. I had parked near one of Dagaron's claws, close enough to the monster's head that I could hear it breathing. She was waiting at the front steps, wearing a violet dress, her hair braided and rolled into a bun.
"So you're Angela?" I said.
"And you're Dolph. Pleasure to finally meet you."
I was just glad she looked like her photo. "You didn't have any trouble finding the place?"
"No, it's just a longer drive than I was expecting. Looks like a big crowd." She looked from the mass of cars in the parking lot, down the path lined with tiki torches, up to the LED sign above the stairs. "Have you been here before?"
"My first time."
"And you can actually afford it?"
"Hey now."
She walked beside me up the stairs. "I'm just saying, this is pretty lavish, especially for a first date."
"I wanted to start things off on the right foot," I said. "I figured, why not go all out?"
At the top of the stairs we showed the bouncer our IDs, and after I paid the cover, he unhooked the rope to let us into the pavilion. A DJ spun his turntables in the corner, playing smooth R&B, and a modest crowd was dancing in front of him. The waitress led us to our table across a floor of lizard hide. The floor subtly rose and sank beneath us.
"You can really feel it breathing," she said. "We're not going to wake it up?"
"From what I've heard," I said, "Dagaron's a sound sleeper."
"It's true," the waitress said, bringing us some water. "Dagaron sleeps for a week at a time once a month. We build the lounge the first day and tear it down the seventh. I don't even think he can feel us through these scales." She stomped a few times to demonstrate. "And if God forbid something should go wrong, we're thoroughly trained on safety protocols. What can I get you to drink?"
We both ordered margaritas.
"One question," Angela said. "How long before Dagaron does wake up?"
"We're on day two, so he has five days" the waitress said, then left to get us our drinks.
Angela and I opened up our menus. I already had a good idea of what I wanted, but when I looked across the table, I saw Angela constantly darting her eyes around. "You all right?" I said.
"Sure, I'm fine," Angela said. "It's just… we're right on top of a giant monster."
"Dagaron's no monster. It's just a really, really big animal."
"You know what I mean. I never thought I'd get this close, much less drink a margarita on its back. Sure, Dagaron's tame enough when he wakes up, but I still remember how terrifying it was when he first appeared."
Out in the darkness, you could see the horns on the back of Dagaron's head. I couldn't say she didn't have a point. When Dagaron first attacked, I'd spent most of my free time holed up in the basement, glued to my phone, checking for news about the giant lizard that had trampled across the countryside, pulverized the Interstate, flattened buildings. "But like you said, Dagaron's pretty tame," I said. It hadn't taken the military long to notice that Dagaron only attacked when provoked, and never actually showed much interest in the city. For the most part, if we left him alone, he left us alone, and stuck to empty fields and valleys. "I can't even remember the last time he hurt somebody."
Angela tore at the edges of a napkin. "I know that, in my head. But it's like visiting a volcano, you know? There's always that little voice in the back of your head wondering if it's about to blow."
I wasn't so sure, but then, I'd never been to a volcano.
The waitress brought our margaritas.
I could tell Angela wasn't having a good time. She drank in small, deliberate sips, and kept her eyes on the ground—on Dagaron's scales. Finally, she said, "Do you follow the City Council at all?"
"No, can't say I do. Why?"
"Oh, no reason."
Below us, Dagaron breathed. Sometimes I thought I could feel its heartbeat, but it might have just been mine. I really thought Angela and I had clicked online, but now that we were here in the flesh I could hardly think of anything to say. Maybe I'd gotten a little ahead of myself when I picked this place. Dagaron was too hard to ignore. I should have just taken her to that Caribbean restaurant on Main Street.
I drank some of the water. "We don't have to stay here, you know."
She set down her glass. "It's fine, really. If I didn't want to come, I'd have said so. Why don't we go dance?"
So we got up and danced. All I did was move my head and arms, but Angela didn't seem to mind. It got our spirits up, and we returned to our drinks in a better mood.
"Maybe Mom was wrong about this place," Angela said.
"Your mom?"
"You really don't know who my mother is? Bev DeFoor? The city council member?"
"That's your mother? Wow. I never realized. I've been seeing the campaign signs all over the place."
"Right, she's up for another term. And one of her top planks is actually getting this lounge right here shut down."
"Seriously? Does she think it's, like, disrespecting the dead or something?" Again, I could see her point. Dagaron was a docile monster, but it was still dangerous. A lot of people did die in its rampage. A friend of mine had lost his father.
"Well, you have to admit, it is maybe a little crass. The main thing is the whole safety issue. But now that I'm here, it's not so frightening. I mean, they've had this pop-up lounge going every month for how long?" Angela started laughing. "Honestly, when you suggested coming to Dagaron's, I thought it was because of her."
A heavy gust blew into the pavilion.
"It really wasn't," I said. "I just never got into local poli—."
The ground started shaking—not just Dagaron, but the ground itself. Our drinks traveled with a rattle across our table, and elsewhere, some glasses dropped off and shattered altogether.
"What was that?" Angela said.
"An earthquake, I thi—" Suddenly the table slammed into my chin, and our margaritas toppled over, and even more glasses all over the lounge broke. The music stopped.
And that was no earthquake. As I rubbed my jaw, and Angela came around and knelt by my chair, I saw a movement outside the tent. The horns rose and turned. Dagaron roared.
"Aw, hell," I said.
The waitress held up a strobe light in the middle of the dance floor. "Okay, people, stay calm! Dagaron's awake! We cannot stay here! Everyone form a line here behind me, and lie down as flat as you can. A chopper is on its way."
As Angela and I took our places in the line and dropped to the floor, a distant, inhuman shriek echoed from the distance. "What was that?" Angela said.
Dagaron growled back. His body moved again, tossing us up. I took a rough landing on my arm. But I stayed put on the ground, thanking God that Dagaron wasn't a biped.
The stairs that had brought us up here broke off and collapsed. Dagaron began walking, and I could feel every footfall rumbling through my body. He swung his tail, and I heard the scraping and banging of metal behind it. The wind alone was tossing cars around.
Meanwhile the waitress, bartender, bouncer, and DJ were crawling around the tent, each stopping at a corner, where there were weights keeping the tent anchored to Dagaron's hide. They pulled out knives, cut the cords, and let the tent fly off.
A red beam lit up the horizon, followed by an explosion. The boom hit us a moment later. For a moment we could see a giant shape in the flames, with glowing red eyes. I think all of us had always wondered if there were other creatures like Dagaron. Now we knew. And this new one was not going to be as friendly.
Dagaron sped up his pace. I still couldn't hear the chopper. It might not reach us before the two creatures met, and even if it did, would it get us away in time?
There were more explosions, and they were getting closer with each of Dagaron's footsteps.
Clinging to the scale I was lying on, I reached over and grabbed Angela's wrist. "Listen, in case anything happens, I just wanna say I'm sorry. It's just, I think you're great, and I wanted this to be memorable, and… well, I guess I should be careful what I wish for."
"It's all right," she said. "I wish we had more time to get to know each other better!"
"Then if we get out of this," I said, "there's a Caribbean place I think you'll love!"
Soon I finally heard the whipping of the chopper through the night air. The helicopter hovered by Dagaron's side and shone its light on us, then swooped in for a landing on a spot behind Dagaron's neck. The door slid open.
Following the waitress's directions, we crawled single file toward the chopper. An explosion caused Dagaron to hesitate, and the chopper to slide out of place. The man who was crawling toward it broke off running and leaped right inside.
It happened again as Angela and I entered. She had already gotten on, and was helping me up. Then the helicopter jerked out from under us, and she and I both toppled out and slammed back onto Dagaron's back.
The waitress and bartender crouched beside us and helped us up. We boarded the helicopter together. There were only a few people behind us. They quickly boarded and buckled in.
The chopper lifted off.
The new monster belted out a growling shriek, and its eyes lit up.
Directly at us.
Suddenly Dagaron stood up on his hind legs. The beam from the new monster's eyes struck Dagaron in the shoulder.
"Oh my God!" Angela cried.
Other people were watching through windows, muttering to themselves and each other. "Was he protecting us?" "Is he going to be okay?" "Get him, Dagaron!" I may have let out a "You can do it, Dagaron!" at one point.
All the while, Angela and I clutched each other's hands tight. Some of us had lost somebody to Dagaron, but he'd never truly meant any harm. He was as much a part of our lives now as the mountains and rivers. If Dagaron was really trying to protect us, then we had no business being ungrateful. If this new monster won, we might as well have stayed on Dagaron's back.
We landed at the airport. Inside the terminal, all the screens showed Dagaron's fight with the new monster. The media had named him Gimax. Occasionally Dagaron would get a few strikes in. Then the beams from Gimax's eyes would leave a new scorched gash on his hide.
One of those beams hit Dagaron square in the back, and a fireball ballooned out from where the lounge had been.
Squeezing Angela's hand, I whispered, "I think your mom may be getting what she wanted."
She squeezed back. "God, I hope not."
And we spent the rest of the date, such as it was, staring at the screen, rooting for our monster.