"In Need of a Dragon"

 

Not two minutes after Ms. Wright had finished speaking with the owner of the appliance store and hung up her phone did her doorbell ring. It was not the delivery person ringing but instead a dragon, ten feet tall and shimmering in its blue scales, its neck bent low under the porch roof and its wings folded like fans. It wore a grey fedora.

"Hello," it said. "Pardon me for intruding, but I got wind of your neighbors' chatter and heard your furnace is on its way out. Might you be in need of a dragon?"

Ms. Wright, of 142 Oak Terrance #3, merely stood there.

"My card," said the dragon. It pinched a thin card between two knife-sharp claws and passed it toward Ms. Wright, who opened her screen door just wide enough for her hand to fit. The dragon, in addition to being a home heating specialist, was also a supply logistics manager. Its name was an illegible scroll.

"I just ordered a new furnace yesterday," Ms. Wright whispered, barely able to meet her visitor's gaze.

The dragon clicked its tongue. A curl of smoke escaped from between its jagged mountainpeak teeth. "I'm always just a little too late on these house calls," it said with a sigh. "I was on my way over much earlier in the week, but I caught the scent of the earth turning over far below the grass, because, as you know, spring starts next week, and the smell was just so...."

The dragon sighed again and shook its head. 

"Forgive me. I'm easily distracted in my old age," it said. "If I may ask, the warranty on your purchase...?"

"Ten years," said Ms. Wright.

"Well, that's good, that's quite standard. I'd like to point out, however, that dragons are rather long-lived, and incredibly efficient to boot, the source of our flames being nothing more than a slight twist in our anatomy."

"Of course, of course." Ms. Wright's eyes had not grown any less saucer-shaped since she answered the door.

"And," the dragon added, removing his fedora, "we've also been known to make excellent companions on rare occasions, particularly for those among your kind who--and please consider this a term of respect, as you'll imagine it must be for my ilk--who are more advanced in years." Here Ms. Wright touched her grey curls and finally looked straight at the dragon, who seemed to understand her in a way no other salesperson ever had. "While I understand you have a commitment with another seller and have no wish to pressure you out of it," the dragon said, "I do hope that, once your warranty's over, you'll keep me in mind. For as I suspect you may know, there are some chills that come with age that won't go away no matter how high you set your heater."

The dragon cleared its throat and blinked, and then smiled before placing its fedora on its head. "Ms. Wright, thank you so much for your time," it said. "I hope you have a wonderful day."

The dragon lifted itself into the air on its mighty wings, stirring the scent of springtime with each beat. Ms. Wright remained at her door, her eyes swimming in tears, her mouth ajar, and her fingers fumbling for her phone as she tried to recall the appliance store's cancellation policy.