I’ve always thought dragons and lawyers have been badly treated.
When I see a dragon, it’s usually being attacked by St George and skewered
with a lance. Lawyers are criticised for defending people the public have
condemned already in their own minds.
I decided to write a fairy tale about a dragon who becomes a lawyer to help
the sentient beings who’ve not been treated well in the fairy tales of yore.
Of course, this can only take place in a parallel universe to our own where
those fairy tale characters try to make the best of things for themselves.
When they need or want legal help, Wendy Draig is now there for them.
Wendy is the Dragon Lawyer who tilts the Scales of Justice in favour of the
underdog, undercat, and every other member of the underclass.
I’ve always thought dragons and lawyers have been badly treated.
When I see a dragon, it’s usually being attacked by St George and skewered
with a lance. Lawyers are criticised for defending people the public have
condemned already in their own minds.
I decided to write a fairy tale about a dragon who becomes a lawyer to help
the sentient beings who’ve not been treated well in the fairy tales of yore.
Of course, this can only take place in a parallel universe to our own where
those fairy tale characters try to make the best of things for themselves.
When they need or want legal help, Wendy Draig is now there for them.
Wendy is the Dragon Lawyer who tilts the Scales of Justice in favour of the
underdog, undercat, and every other member of the underclass.
The towns called The Town, The Next Town, and The Next Town But One were at the western end of a plain that stretched for hundreds of miles across the Land of Fair E. The towns were surrounded by large forests that covered the lower slopes of the Mountains of the West. The towns were close together as though there was safety in numbers. On the other side of the mountains was a port called The Port where ships from all around the world docked to deliver their cargoes.
Wendy had arrived in The Town two days prior to the start of the trial of LRR Hood vs BB Wolf. She had to organise herself and find out some information. Wendy had read her brief though she didn’t have time to talk for long with her client, the accused wolf. She listened to his story and agreed that he must tell the truth. She learned the wolf’s name was Timothy, and she also met his wife Tina and their children, Harold, Alex, Jasper, and the youngest, a three-month-old baby called Heather.
Tim had long light-grey fur, blue eyes, and protruding teeth, and sounded as though he had the flu. Otherwise, he looked like any other wolf you’d meet in your local high street or woods. Because the prosecution’s case was based on hearsay, innuendo, and rumours with no actual evidence, Wendy felt confident in her ability to defend her client. Wendy believed the prosecution wanted to stoke up prejudice against Tim and influence the jury that way.
In the courtroom, the public galleries were full of people talking and pointing towards the judge’s chair and the separate area where the jury would sit. The clerk of the court called the lawyers to attend the court. The jury filed in, some of them waving to the public gallery as they sat on their wooden benches.
Wendy placed her bag on the rickety desk provided for her use and retrieved three papers outlining her questioning, along with refutations of points she was confident the prosecution would make. She believed that the prosecution’s argument relied solely on one line of reasoning and one biased witness.
‘The court will rise,’ stated the clerk of the court, ‘and be upstanding for Judge Scrivener.’
Everyone stood on their feet, including the saturnine prosecutor Peter Perry, who was at a desk ten feet away from Wendy. She glanced at the dock where Tim had just arrived, accompanied by two warders. Wendy had asked Tim to appear non-threatening and keep low down, so that he appeared diminutive and harmless.
The judge wore a white wig and a long red robe. Glasses were perched on the end of his nose. He raised a grey eyebrow when he observed Wendy, and she smiled back at him.
‘Ladies, gentlemen, and others of the jury, I hope you understand the terrible case we’re hearing today. The Big Bad Wolf…’
Wendy stood up.
‘Objection, Your Honour.’
An astonished intake of breath swept around the room, followed by mutterings of ‘She be dragon …’
Wendy looked towards the humans who’d said this and nodded her head. Two little pigs and three bears looked towards her and grinned their appreciation.
‘What is the nature of your objection, may I ask, Wendy? Sorry, your surname is Draig, yes?’
‘It is Draig, Wendy Draig, and as some people here have correctly observed, I be dragon. The nature of my objection relates to the usage of those two three-letter adjectives you used, Your Honour, in relation to my client. They are entirely prejudicial, and their usage is likely to turn the jury against my client from the beginning of this trial. This is discrimination against a minority and that is against the law.’
‘But, Miss Draig, those are his names, are they not?’
‘Indeed, they are not, Your Honour. My client’s name is Tim, Mr Tim Wolf, and his loving parents baptised him with that name when he was a young cub.’
‘Really?’ said Judge Scrivener.
‘Really,’ said Wendy, nodding to emphasise and scanning the jury to verify whether any of this was registering with the six humans, two goblins scratching their heads, one dwarf without a beard, one smiling bear, one pig wearing yellow gloves, and the Fairy Godfather, who was wearing a very sharp pin-striped three-piece suit with a dark-blue tie.
‘Well, I stand, or more accurately, sit corrected,’ continued Scrivener. ‘But regardless of his name, he’s accused of a heinous crime. I ask Mr Perry, the Prosecuting Counsel, to call his first witness.’
‘His only prosecution witness, Your Honour,’ replied Wendy, winking at the jury before sitting down. In the gallery, the little pigs patted their trotters together and oinked their appreciation. Mama Bear whispered into Papa Bear’s ear and he gave a slow, solemn nod.
‘Indeed,’ said Peter Perry, ‘but a witness who is accurate, calm, and collected. I call Miss Little Red Riding Hood to the witness stand.’
A young woman carrying a parasol skipped to the stand and glared at Tim. She was around thirty-five years old and heavily made-up under her bright-red headwear. Miss Hood wore a light-green dress and long white gloves made from lace. She placed a wicker basket she’d been carrying on the floor.
‘You can put down the parasol in here, young lady,’ said Scrivener, ‘there’s no sun inside.’
‘There’s no sun in my life now,’ wailed Little Red Riding Hood. ‘Not since that nasty, horrid, big, bad wolf ate my dearly beloved granny with those horrible, gnashing teeth.’
‘Objection,’ said Wendy, standing up, ‘the witness can’t just release a stream of abuse towards my client like that. No one has asked her a question yet.’
‘Sustained,’ said the judge, nodding at Wendy. ‘Mr Perry, please keep your witness under control and ask her to stick to the salient facts of the case, instead of releasing a stream of invective towards the accused. Her outburst might be prejudicial if she insists on being regarded as a reliable witness.’
‘He ate Granny,’ said Little Red Riding Hood, pointing at the wolf before bursting into tears and dabbing at her eyes with a long, blue handkerchief.
Wendy shook her head and scanned the jury before sitting down. By scratching their armpits, the goblins exhibited their lack of interest. Miss Hood’s emotional display had left the dwarf looking horrified. The humans were smiling and trying not to look at the witness. The Fairy Godfather leaned back in his chair and smirked at Miss Hood.
Peter Perry asked Little Red Riding Hood some questions, and she provided a theatrical performance of some depth, outlining how she’d skipped through the forest on a lovely summer’s day only to find her granny missing from her house and a wolf in her bed instead. A wolf wearing a bonnet belonging to her granny. A wolf with big teeth who’d said ‘All the better to eat you with’ when questioned why his teeth were so big.
Once Perry had indicated he had no further questions, Scrivener asked Wendy whether she had questions.
‘Indeed, I do,’ said Wendy, standing up slowly.
‘You be dragon,’ said Hood.
‘Yes, as I said previously, I be dragon,’ said Wendy. ‘I be dragon who enjoyed your performance very much and I’m sure it will win accolades when the awards season comes around, perhaps the Best Actress award in a drama?’
Hood looked at Wendy with contempt.
‘First,’ asked Wendy, ‘what’s your name? I understand you call yourself Little Red Riding Hood, but is your first name really Little and is Red a nickname?’
‘My name is Little Red Riding Hood,’ said Hood, licking her lips. ‘That’s what my parents called me from the day I was born.’
‘Your parents showed tremendous prescience in knowing exactly what you’d prefer to wear later in life,’ remarked Wendy, smiling at the jury. ‘And talking of your parents, are they here today?’
‘They’re not here, no,’ said Hood, dabbing her eyes with her hanky.
‘Where are they?’ asked Wendy.
‘They left many years ago, just left one day, leaving me, poor little me, to look after Granny. That is, until that nasty wolf ate her.’ Hood pointed at Tim and burst into carefully choreographed tears.
The court was silent.
‘You say your parents left. Where did they go?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Did you try to find them?’
‘I didn’t try to find them. They were both adults of mature age and went about their own business.’
‘Which wild animal did you accuse of eating them?’ asked Wendy with a straight face.
In the public gallery, the two pigs burst into oinks and fits of laughter and Baby Bear sniggered out loud. On the jury benches, the goblins looked confused, and the dwarf blushed. The Fairy Godfather nodded his head and grinned.
‘Will the usher please escort the two pigs and small bear from the public gallery and out of this court? We can’t have such outbursts of emotion at such a time,’ said Judge Scrivener.
Little Red Riding Hood gripped the edge of the witness stand as if it were a walking frame she needed to support her weight.
‘I didn’t accuse anyone or anything of killing them.’ She spat the words out as the court officials evicted the protesting pigs. Mother Bear led Baby Bear out of the court before the officials reached him.
‘I understand,’ said Wendy, ‘and you didn’t call the police?’
‘No, I didn’t call the police. I didn’t want them involved.’
‘Interesting because you didn’t call the police in this case either, did you?’ asked Wendy.
‘I didn’t. This is a private prosecution.’
‘Is that because you have something to hide?’ asked Wendy. ‘What was in the basket you used to skip through the woods with to Granny’s house?’
‘I took food for Granny to eat at her house,’ said Hood, looking down at the basket at her feet.
‘Well, you say Granny’s house, but there’s no record from the poll tax records of anyone living there since the days of Hansel and Gretel. That was a long time ago. Was your Granny a squatter?’
‘It was her house,’ said Hood through gritted teeth.
‘Well, I put it to you that Granny never existed; that she’s a figment of your imagination you’re using for nefarious purposes.’
‘She was real, and that’s why he ate her in her house,’ said Hood, looking at the jury.
‘Right, if she’s real, was she your mum’s mother or your dad’s mother? It must be one or the other?’
Little Red Riding Hood looked up at the white ceiling with its gold leaf flowers in circles of blue.
‘She was my mum’s mother.’
‘What was her surname?’
‘It was … Smith,’ replied Hood slowly.
‘Have you got an apple in your basket?’ queried Wendy.
‘Two apples,’ replied Hood.
‘What was your father’s surname as a matter of interest?’
‘It was Hood.’
‘Thank you. Now, can you address the fact that we found absolutely no belongings in the house, nothing to suggest that an older female lived there? No walking frame, no clothes, no false teeth, no toiletries.’
‘He …’ said Hood, pointing at Tim, ‘he was wearing her bonnet. Isn’t that enough for you?’ Hood folded her arms and nodded as she looked around, seeking affirmation from someone in the room.
‘Can you prove it’s hers?’ asked Wendy.
‘Perhaps we should remind ourselves of what this bonnet looks like,’ said Scrivener.
The clerk of the court picked up a red silk cushion upon which was a small white bonnet of thin material. He held it aloft and showed it closely to the jury.
‘That’s Granny’s bonnet,’ squealed Hood, dabbing her eyes once again.
‘Looks like a shower cap to me,’ said Wendy. ‘That might fit anyone.’
‘It’s Granny’s,’ screamed Hood.
‘Please lower your voice,’ said Scrivener. ‘Those pigs outside don’t have to hear what you’re saying.’
‘The shower cap is the only item, other than the bedding, that gives any sign someone was living there. A very tenuous link, no food, no drinks, no cutlery, no electrical connection, no gas, no post, nothing.’ Wendy listed the items and looked at the jury as she did so. She nodded and raised her eyebrows for emphasis.
She continued: ‘I move the theory that the only person who has ever seen Granny is the witness and that is not enough to convict someone. The prosecution has not provided another witness who can corroborate anything that this witness is saying. We can only speculate about why the witness is telling the story the way she is. Please understand that if the witness had called in the police, those fine detectives would have x-rayed my client straightaway to determine if there was any truth in the vicious rumour she has started, a rumour that is wholly unsubstantiated by any of the facts. I have no further questions.’
With that, Wendy sat down and Little Red Riding Hood left the witness stand at a slow, methodical pace, hugging her parasol and basket as though drawing strength from their presence.
‘Thank you, Miss Draig,’ said Judge Scrivener. ‘Mr Perry, who would you like to call to the stand?’
‘Thank you, Your Honour, I’d like to call the accused, Mr Timothy Wolf, to the stand.’
A murmur went around the court.
‘Silence in court,’ shouted the clerk.
Tim Wolf had been expecting to be called and loped confidently from the dock, down the steps, and across to the witness stand.
The prosecutor tried to get Tim to admit that he’d eaten Granny, but Tim maintained his innocence throughout the questions. Once Peter Perry had finished, Judge Scrivener asked Wendy whether she wanted to ask Tim questions.
‘Thank you, Your Honour,’ said Wendy. ‘I have a few questions I’d like to ask Mr Tim Wolf, the loving, caring father of four cubs who has been happily married for ten years and who is completely innocent of the heinous crime the local rumour mongers have accused him of.’
Tim smiled at Wendy.
‘Mr Wolf, have you ever seen the previous witness, Little Red Riding Hood, in and around the woods where you live?’
Tim cocked his head to one side. ‘Well, I observed her occasionally when I was near the empty house that she refers to as Granny’s house, but more often than not, I heard her shouting and sometimes screaming inside. I used to keep away when that happened, as I didn’t want to get involved.’
‘I understand, and did you hear anyone else’s voice at those times?’
‘Yes, a man’s voice, not always the same voice, but definitely male, saying various things I didn’t understand. I moved away whenever this happened, as I didn’t want to cause any trouble.’
‘You wanted to avoid trouble, I can understand that. Now, did you ever look inside this empty house in the woods?’
‘Occasionally, when I realised there was no one there, no one visiting at least. No one lived there, despite what you’ve heard previously.’
Tim’s calm assurance enthralled the public gallery.
Wendy continued, ‘What did you see inside, Tim?’
Tim smiled to himself.
‘All that was in there was a bed with some sheets on it that humans use. That skullcap, or bonnet as it was called, was always on one bedpost. There was a small table and a dresser, but both were always bare apart from perhaps one or two small plates on the table.’
‘Did you ever see an older female who could reasonably be called Granny inside the house?’
Tim shook his head. ‘Never.’
There was a collective intake of breath from the public gallery. Papa Bear leaned forward and stroked his chin slowly and methodically.
‘Tim, what were you doing in the house when the previous witness saw you?’
‘Well, my wife and I had just had our fourth cub, young Heather,’ said Tim, looking at the jury. ‘One day, the rain soaked me to the skin. I caught a cold. I didn’t want to pass this on to young Heather. It might have been injurious to her health …’
The females in the court nodded their heads at how considerate Tim had been.
‘So, I remembered the bed in the empty house and said to my wife I’d sleep in the house, in the human bed, that would be an experience, and I’d sleep there until I was better. Anyway, the third time I slept there, I must have slept longer than normal because the previous witness woke me. I’d been in a deep sleep, and she woke me up and I was groggy. I’d worn the skullcap to keep my head warm, because I’m sure you’re all aware that 70 per cent of body heat escapes through your head, and I couldn’t hear so well and I snuffled and she ran off. So, I took off the skullcap and put it on the bedpost, and headed out of there as fast as I could go. I felt a lot better, but I was worried that the lady would do something strange, and I headed into the woods, but some concerned citizens who said I had some questions to answer rounded me up.’
‘And here you are now,’ said Wendy, ‘being accused of a crime you didn’t commit.’
‘Exactly,’ said Tim.
‘Members of the jury,’ said Wendy, turning to look at them, ‘you’ve listened to the truthful story from the individual accused of a crime he did not commit. I submit you should find him not guilty of the charges levelled against him.’ She smiled and nodded.
The Fairy Godfather stood up and applauded what he’d witnessed.
‘Members of the jury,’ said Judge Scrivener, ‘there are no more witnesses to call, so I must ask you to go forth from this place and discuss your findings about this case in private. Please return when you have reached a verdict.’
‘With respect,’ replied the Fairy Godfather, who was the foreman of the jury, ‘I don’t believe we have to go anywhere to decide our verdict. We already know.’
The goblins nodded, as did Bashful, the bear, and the pig. The humans looked less sure.
‘Well,’ said Scrivener, ‘at least go into the corner and talk about it. I need a unanimous decision from you to convict, so please bear that in mind.’
‘OK,’ said the Godfather, ‘let’s huddle everyone and discover what we think.’
The twelve jurors moved into the corner of the court and after a minute of whispers, they came back and sat down.
‘That was quick,’ said Scrivener. ‘What decision have you reached?’
‘It was 9-3 in favour of NOT GUILTY,’ said the Fairy and clapped his hands towards Wendy.
‘NOoooooooooo,’ screamed a voice, and almost everyone knew who this was.
‘The case against Mr Tim Wolf is dismissed,’ said the judge, and banged his gavel.
Wendy clasped her hands together, stood up, and went over to shake Tim by the paw.
‘Thank you, Wendy,’ said Tim, ‘thank you for taking on my case. I really appreciate it.’
They joined the people who were heading out into the spring sunshine. The white walls and roof of the courthouse contrasted with the blue sky. Birds perched on the edge of the roof, looking at the people gathered below, like black notes on a parchment of music.
Wendy suddenly realised she was being watched by several individuals who seemed to want to talk to her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Three Little Pigs who were rather shy and seemed to encourage each other to talk to her.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked.
One of the Three Little Pigs stepped forward and almost did a curtsy to Wendy. He took off his red bowler hat and looked at the ground as he spoke. He held a cane in his left front trotter.
‘We were wondering,’ he began, before looking at the other two pigs who waved their trotters at him to keep going.
‘We were wondering … if you could help us.’ He blushed and looked at his feet.
‘I can try to help you,’ said Wendy, ‘but I’d need to find out what you think you need help with.’
‘It’s your experience with wolves that piqued our interest,’ he continued, ‘because we’re having trouble with a wolf ourselves.’
Wendy turned around and whispered, ‘Is it Tim that’s troubling you?’
‘No, no, no, no … not that charming wolf,’ said the tallest pig, named Lionel.
‘Well, we don’t think we’d have a problem if the only wolf we knew was Tim,’ said the female pig named Samantha. She wore a light-blue dress and a straw boater. She’d been a member of the jury at Tim’s trial.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Henry, waving his bowler hat in the air for emphasis.
‘We don’t know our wolf’s name,’ said Lionel, ‘but it’s not that which is bothering us; he’s trying to remove our properties.’
‘He’s trying to remove your properties? What, with a bulldozer or a wrecking ball?’
‘No, no, no,’ said Lionel, ‘he says he will blow them over.’
‘Blow them over? With what? A massive leaf blower?’
‘No, no, no, with … well he says “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down”, so we presume he purses his lips and blows his breath at our houses. But I’ve just had a horrible thought; I hope he’s not pointing his backside at our houses and breaking wind because that would be disgusting.’
‘That would be horrible, not that blowing your houses down with his breath isn’t disgusting and, I might add, completely illegal.’
‘Oh, it is illegal, is it?’ asked Henry, leaning on his cane. ‘We hoped it might be.’
‘Oh yes, it is illegal to knock down someone’s house without their express permission. Why is this wolf trying to remove your properties?’
‘Well,’ began Lionel.
‘We think,’ said Samantha.
‘We reckon he wants to build a resort on our land,’ said Henry.
‘Really? Without paying for the land?’ asked Wendy.
‘Yes, we have quite a lot of land that we use to run around on, but we pigs are not like humans and feel the need to build large houses to live in. We just need a small house where we can shelter and sleep and then spend the rest of the time outside. Our houses are only about 1 per cent of the land we have.’
‘Where does the wolf live?’ asked Wendy, putting on her glasses. She put her bag on the ground and rummaged in it for some paper.
‘We don’t want to blow his house down in a pre-emptive strike,’ said Samantha.
‘I’ll serve him with a cease-and-desist letter. I’ll write it now and put the letter in his letter box. A cease-and-desist letter has no legal standing. It’s a warning and a request to stop the offending behaviour, namely attempting to blow your houses down, before we take legal action. If the wolf continues with his blowing, the letter may help you get a cease-and-desist order, which is granted by the court. I’ll represent you if it comes to that.’
‘Well, thank you,’ said Lionel.
Wendy wrote out the letter in her neat, cursive handwriting, remembering all those times at school when she’d incinerated the paper out of frustration at her inability to write clearly. Even now, she had to tell herself to slow down and not let her mind run ahead of her hand. The three pigs witnessed the letter.
‘Do you know the name of this wolf?’ asked Wendy.
‘No, no, no, no, we don’t know the wolf’s name,’ said Lionel.
‘Wait, I’ll ask Tim if he’s still here.’
Tim and Tina were still talking excitedly and making a fuss over young Heather as their other cubs milled around their feet.
‘Tim, sorry to interrupt,’ said Wendy, ‘but do either of you know the name of the wolf that lives near the three pigs? He’s being a nuisance and trying to blow their houses down. I want to issue him with a cease-and-desist letter.’
‘I know who that is,’ said Tina, handing Heather to Tim. ‘He’s a distant cousin of mine by the name of Virgil. He likes to eat curries, the stronger the better, so he produces plenty of, how do I put this, plenty of burps and other exhalations and so it comes as no surprise he’s been threatening to blow houses down, as he’s a walking emitter of gases.’
‘No, no, no, no, that’s not good… an emitter of gases,’ said Lionel. ‘It sounds as though if you struck a match near him, he might blow up.’
‘We know where he lives, in a non-threatening sense,’ said Tim. ‘We can deliver your letter and talk to him at the same time. I know his wife experiments with the curries, so he might suffer from a buildup of noxious fumes, but he still shouldn’t emit them near someone’s house. That’s not very considerate.’
‘Considerate, considerate,’ repeated Heather.
Wendy laughed. ‘That’s a wonderful word for you to learn, Heather.’
‘Well, where are you going now, Wendy?’ asked Samantha.
‘I’m going to walk through the forest to The Next Town. I’ve been told that in the trees there’s a tall tower with a damsel at the top and I’d like to see her. She wrote me a letter saying she had very long hair, and it was causing her a problem. Please let me know how things go with Virgil Wolf.’
Wendy waved goodbye to the wolves and the pigs and headed down the street towards the forest of tall trees she could see in the far distance. Their greenery really shone against the sky. Wendy was searching for a woman called Barbara Rapunzel, who said in her correspondence that Wendy couldn’t miss her abode as it was taller than all the trees and wasn’t wooden. This really did narrow things down, even in an enchanted forest.
‘Excuse me,’ said a voice behind her.
Wendy looked and saw that three bears were following her.
‘Can I help you?’ she enquired.
‘Yes, I think you can,’ said the female bear, known as Mother Bear.
Father Bear nodded wisely and Baby Bear, who was actually nine years old, jumped up and down with delight.
‘I love your child’s enthusiasm,’ said Wendy, nodding at Baby Bear’s dancing.
‘Your performance in court impressed us,’ said Father Bear. ‘In particular, in the way you dealt with that woman called Little Red Riding Hood. We have a problem with a woman, too.’
‘Goldilocks,’ said Baby Bear, and stopped being enthusiastic.
‘Is she related to Miss Hood in any way?’ asked Wendy.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Mother Bear, ‘but she comes into our house every day when we’re not looking and tries all our food before we eat it. This is for all meals. It started with porridge for breakfast, but now includes lunch and most dinners.’
‘Our grandma doesn’t live with us,’ said Baby Bear, ‘so Goldilocks can’t be related to Miss Riding Hood.’
Father Bear guffawed and bent over double, almost losing his glasses.
‘Have you told Goldilocks this behaviour is unappreciated and unwelcome?’
‘We have. Each of us has told her. We’ve locked all the doors and windows and yet she still gets in and starts chewing our food,’ said Mother Bear.
‘How does she get in?’ enquired Wendy.
‘Well,’ said Father Bear, ‘she either comes down our chimney or uses a skeleton key to get in through the back door.’
‘Well, that is either Santa Claus syndrome or Breaking and Entering,’ said Wendy. ‘One is a little-known psychological disorder and the other is a criminal act. Have you reported her to the law enforcement authorities?’
‘You mean the sheriff?’ asked Baby Bear.
‘Yes, if that’s the name of the law enforcement officer in these parts,’ replied Wendy.
‘Sheriff Clanton or Sheriff Earp,’ said Baby Bear. ‘Those are their names, depending on the town.’
‘Benny Clanton and Homer Earp,’ said Mother Bear.
‘Have you spoken to them about Goldilocks?’ asked Wendy.
‘There’s a slight problem there,’ said Father Bear. ‘Goldilocks is Homer Earp’s daughter, so there’s a family connection that we’re not too keen on pointing out. Could you help us?’
‘Yes, I can do what I did for the three pigs and provide you with a cease-and-desist letter, which you can hand to Goldilocks when you next see her. I would suggest you also contact an employment agency here to see whether a bakery or food production company or perhaps a communal kitchen has an opening for a food tester, perhaps where Goldilocks can sneak in when no one is looking and eat the food that’s left out for her. They could lock the door, so she has to use her set of skeleton keys, simulating the thrill of illegal entrance.’
‘That sounds like an interesting suggestion,’ said Father Bear. ‘Goldilocks is always saying something has to be “just right” in terms of the temperature and texture of the food product she’s sampling, so perhaps she could start a “Just Right” food testing consultancy? We’re concerned that our child will get a sense of entitlement from someone always sampling the food.’
‘That sounds understandable,’ said Wendy, who then began writing her second cease-and-desist letter of the afternoon.
‘Does Goldilocks have a real first name? She can’t have been baptised with the name Goldilocks,’ she asked.
‘I’m sure she does, but I don’t know what it is,’ replied Mother Bear.
‘It’s not so important if you hand her the envelope,’ said Wendy. ‘That will be sufficient, especially if all three of you are there when this happens. I’ll make some enquiries at a cookery school I saw and see what openings they may have. I will write another cease-and-desist letter and hand it to Homer Earp, just for added emphasis.’
Wendy gave the letter to Mother Bear and closed her bag.
‘Why did you become a lawyer?’ asked Baby Bear, ‘instead of doing traditional dragon things.’
‘Traditional dragon things such as?’
‘Well, flying around and attacking people who don’t like you.’
‘Well, I’ve done none of that sort of thing, so I don’t agree it’s traditional. But, to answer your question, when I was growing up, I discovered I had a talent for persuading people to take actions that would benefit themselves and the environment, such as refraining from shooting ducks synchronised swimming on a pond. I came across discrimination and genuine surprise that I didn’t eat meat and preferred to extinguish fires rather than start them. I was determined to help the citizens of this country in a legal sense. When my parents told me that no dragon had ever become a lawyer before, I wanted to be the first.’
‘What did you persuade people to do?’ asked Father Bear.
‘To plant trees rather than chop them down, cycle to the shops instead of going in their honking big car and put their dogs on leads in public places. Just ordinary things like that. I enjoyed helping rats and mice find alternative places to live that wouldn’t bother humans, but I thought there was more I could do, especially if I knew the law, as I feel that animals have rights too.’
‘Oh …I hope you didn’t mind me saying “traditional dragon things”. It was insensitive of me and I’m sorry. I think what you’re doing is wonderful.’
‘Thank you, Baby Bear. I don’t mind you saying that at all. I’m pleased you think I’m doing good, which is my principal aim, really.’
‘You’re going to see Rapunzel next?’ asked Mother Bear.
‘I am going to see Barbara. She said that she had something to discuss with me and so I fully intend to help her.’
‘Yes, she’s in a strange situation,’ said Father Bear, ‘so I’m not surprised she asked for help. You really can’t miss her tower, though you may have to shout to get her attention.’
‘Is there a staircase up the tower or a rope ladder I can climb?’
The three bears looked at each with uncomfortable glances.
‘We should let you find out for yourself. It would be unfair of us to tell you,’ said Mother Bear.
‘I think that’s why she wants you to see her,’ said Father Bear. ‘But we should go. I think we’re delaying you.’
With that, he took Baby Bear’s hand, who then took his mother’s hand, and they walked away.
Wendy smiled as she thought she understood what the bears were referring to. However, she kept an open mind, as her parents had always taught her to do. Never try to judge the future.
Wendy Draig is tired of stereotypes and is determined to do all she can to fight all forms of injustice, whether against a human, animal or any other sentient being. That is why she decides to become the first dragon lawyer of the Land of Fair E, travelling through different towns to offer free legal assistance to anyone in need. Between meetings, court hearings and even some investigations, Wendy comes across a wide range of characters, some already beloved protagonists of well-known fairytales and some perhaps lesser known, but all in need of counsel and joined in the desire to make their land a better place for all.
The starting point for Dragon Lawyer: Scales of Justice - a dragon lawyer providing legal assistance to fairytale characters - is intriguing and original, holding much promise for a fun and engaging read, as does the clever wordplay in the title. Unfortunately, its execution does not allow it to reach its full potential, leaving the feeling that the book would have greatly benefited from some further editing prior to publication.
The writing flits between overly simplistic and verbose, often relying on complex sentences and legal jargon, unnecessarily or on occasion even inaccurately (for example, at one point a character talks about something being hearsay when in fact they are referring to speculation). The dialogues are also stilted and deeply unnatural, and are often relied upon as an exposition technique to allow different characters to convey multiple points points of information to Wendy.
The story itself feels too condensed to allow any character's storyline sufficient space for them to truly develop. There is hardly any conflict that is not almost immediately resolved, Wendy welcomed with open arms and instantly trusted by everyone she meets, resulting in a complete lack of tension and virtually no stakes.
One of the biggest problems with this book seems to be its indecision over who its audience is: at times, it seems as though what we are reading is a fairytale with little depth beyond relaying a series of events; at other times, however, this reads more like a satirical work aimed at an adult public, with frequent references to real-life modern issues (such as immigration, social networks and environmental issues, to name only a few). This confusion in its tone ensures that the story ultimately works for neither public, resulting too complex and lacklustre for a younger audience while far too simplistic and lacking depth for an adult one.