The jingle brought our border collie/chow chow mix galloping down the stairs and across the living room in a flash.
Right on his heels was our dragon pig. Dragon pig was actually a dragon who liked to run around in the shape of a cute baby pig. A cute baby pig who ate cars for breakfast.
“All right you two,” I said, “let’s get some fresh air.”
Spud dropped into a sit, his fluffy tail wagging and wagging, his mouth open in a happy smile. I latched the leash to his collar and plucked up Ryder’s old gray hoodie, shrugging into it.
Spud and the dragon pig bounded out the door with me. We spilled into the front yard and then down the sidewalk to the little footpath that rambled between weeds toward the shore of the lake.
I took a deep breath of air that smelled of clean water, green moss, and dusty sand, then let it out in one big rush.
Dragon pig grunted and looked up at me, its pointy little ears flopping back.
“I’ve been a little stressed,” I said, as Spud sniffed around for a good pee spot.
Dragon pig grunted in agreement.
“It’s just...the wedding planning. All the details and decisions. People asking me what date to save, and where it will be, and how formal they should dress, and if there’s going to be an open barandfree weed, orjustfree weed. Then the gods keep dropping hints, and I can’t tell if they want to officiate, or just want better seating options. It feels like everyone is more excited about it than I am. That’s not normal, is it? Feeling like the wedding is a performance we have to put on for everyone else? Feeling this kind of fight or flight or freeze over my own wedding?”
Dragon pig squeaked and trotted toward the water, startling a couple crows up into the sky. The crows landed in the trees behind us and called out their displeasure. Dragon pig made a pleased sound. Spud finished his business and galumphed toward his buddy, his leash dragging behind him.
“Five minutes,” I called after them. “I want that espresso hot. I mean it this time. No long walk. Just a shorty stroll.”
Dragon pig grumbled at me and followed the water’s edge, Spud splashing through the shallows beside him. They both stopped to sniff around a rock, and the dragon pig swallowed it whole before moving on.
My shoes sank in the dry sand and little reedy grasses slapped at the hem of my pants. The wind was cooler by the water, but the sun poured down a soft, early summer morning heat.
Bertie, our local Valkyrie, couldn’t have chosen a better week for the annual talent show. With any luck the outdoor stage would be dry this year and no one’s picnic lunches would be ruined.
I knew she had upped her firework budget, and lured a bunch of food vendors to offer treats. It was going to be a hit, because, really, almost everything she touched turned into a tourist magnet.
Tourists meant money, and our little town always needed funds.
I made a mental note to remind everyone on the force I was going to need all hands on deck for the event.
We still hadn’t hired someone to take over Roy’s position at the station since he’d retired. We’d been rotating front desk duty, which worked for a stopgap, but was putting a bit of a strain on our small department.
We only had five full-time officers: Me, my sisters Myra and Jean, and the two cops we’d nabbed from Tillamook just north of us: Hatter and Shoe. Our reserve officers: Kelby, Ryder, and Than helped part time, but they all had full-time jobs on the side.
I needed to hire someone else full time, but had been holding off until things settled down. The only problem with Ordinary was that things never settled down.
Spud was working on a stick, biting each end of it, then the middle, then each end again as he tried to decide how he was going to drag the thing back to the house. Dragon pig had found a pile of rocks someone had stacked, and was currently perched on the top like a king.
Or a like dragon on a mountain. Or a pig on a pile of rocks.
Mostly that last thing.
The crows muttered and clucked in the trees, and a trio of seagulls piped across the sky, cruising for forgotten French fries or bits of bread.
I tipped my face to the sky. Clouds rolled and shuffled like foam churning at the wave-edge of the heavens. My gaze ticked west, following the blue out and out for miles.
Dragon pig growled. Spud dropped his stick andwoofed.
The crows suddenly went silent and took wing eastward, fast.
The waves on the lake, the wind, the buzz of insects all stilled. As if this moment was stalled between thetickandtockof time.
Something magic was happening. Something supernatural.
