“Doesn’t look like he’s home.”
Dragon pig had curled up in the seat, happy and full of forks. It ignored me, both eyes closed, a tiny little snore rumbling in its chest.
“Let’s give him a call.” I thumbed through my contacts and dialed.
“Reed Daughter.” Than’s voice was smooth and cool, like I’d just interrupted important reading.
“Hey,” I said. “I need to discuss something with you. Are you home?”
“Why would I be there?”
I glanced at the dash. Three o’clock.
“I just thought business might not be booming at your kite shop.”
The wind punched the Jeep in the side, rocking it. Sheets of rain slashed sideways through the air.
“Oh?”
“It’s a little weather-y for kites today.”
There was a pause. Then, “I am aware. Is this what you wish to discuss? The weather?”
“No. I was…. You know what? Never mind. You’re at your shop? Can I meet you there?”
“I am open until four p.m.” He hung up.
Still hadn’t quite nailed the social norms of the phone call. I tipped my phone down. “Okay, then. I’ll see you there. Coffee would be great.” I put the Jeep in gear and backed out of the dead end next to his house. “Cookies too? You’re too thoughtful.”
The dragon pig snorted. It sounded like a tiny grumbly laugh.
“You’re staying in the car, bucko.”
All I got for that was louder, more dragon-y snorts.
The drive wasn’t far, but the weather was getting worse. Tough shore pines swayed in the gale. Softer firs and hemlock boughs whipped and bent. Rain rattled and hushed with the surging wind, turning the Jeep into an amateur drum-line jam session.
Than’s kite shop,the tailwind,was a little A-frame building lit by a nearby shepherd’s crook streetlamp. There were no cars in the parking lot, but the shop windows were filled with brightly colored kites. The light inside the shop poured through all that ripstop nylon, turning the windows into stained glass.
I parked as close to the door as was legal and shut off the engine.
“You going to be okay out here?”
The dragon pig opened one eye, and it flashed a deep, burning red.
“Oh, that’s right. You’re actually a big ol’ bad dragon. But look at these soft piggy ears and this squishy pink nose and those sweet piggy eyes.”
The dragon pig growled, a very dragon sound.
I chuckled and scratched behind its adorable soft ears. “Okay. If you want to go home, you can pop on outta here. But no eating the car.” I put my fingers on the handle. “Or the house. Or anything in the house.” Before I opened the door, I added, “You know the rules. Stick by them, and I’ll let you slurp down a roll of old chain-link fencing later. Deal?”
The dragon pig flipped on its back, showing its little round belly. Its tiny feet pointing straight up, flopped ears, round nose, and piggy eyes were all very convincing.
I patted its belly. “Good dragon. See you soon.”
I shoved out into the rain and wind and storm.
TheOpensign on the door was hand-lettered in gold and, really, quite lovely. Death had good penmanship.
