| From: | "Andrew W. Ragland" <RAGLAN54@***.BITNET> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Stories |
| Date: | Fri, 18 Jun 1993 05:47:20 -0600 |
1Wyrm Talkby Tom Dowd
"There's a dragon here to see you." I said evenly.
He glanced up casually from either the papers strewn
about the coffee table or the data-screen lying on top of
them; I couldn't tell which. The slice of pizza in his hand
dripped grease onto the pile. "Oh," he asked. "Which
one?"
"How in god's name should I know?" I replied. He could
be such a pain sometimes. "You haven't started teaching me
that yet."
He smiled and put the pizza slice down on the table.
"Of course, my dear" he said, standing. "Soon, soon."
"So?" I asked, dropping my hands onto my hips.
His eyebrow raised. "So?"
"There's a fraggin dragon here to see you!"
He idly licked some of the grease from his hand. "Well,
yes, you just told me that."
He'd made my promise to stop trying to hit him, but
sometimes.... "Do you want to just leave him out there?"
"No. Of course not!" he replied. "How could you think
that. That would be quite rude. Ask him in."
"Don't you think he's a little big for the doorways?" I
figured that was ultimately a stupid question. In the short
time that I'd been with him I'd learned, if nothing else,
that the obvious was rarely that and the impossible the
norm.
He tilted his head and smiled in his damnable "I know
lots of things you don't." look. "Why don't we let him
decide, eh?"
I shrugged. "Fine, why don't we. It's your repair
bill." I turned and was about to leave the room when a
thought occurred to me. I paused, and looked back at him. He
was bending down for the pizza slice.
"Um, I don't know what dragons are into," I said, "but
I figure you might want to put some clothes on before he
comes in."
He looked up at me, and then down at himself. "Yes, I
suppose," he said. "But how do you know it's a he?"
Someday I was going to hit him so hard they'd need a
closed casket.
Out back, I paused, straightened my clothes, and walked
briskly into the garden. It was sitting there, right where
it had landed, curiously watching the poi circling in a
nearby shallow pool. Its sapphire and silver scales
reflected the late afternoon sun, changing the garden into a
Maxfield Parish painting. The dragon seemed oblivious to my
presence, intent instead on the motions of the goldfish. I
didn't want toQ was afraid toQ disturb it. If I did it would
move andQ
"Is he home?" it asked. I should have been ready for
the speech, I'd heard it when it'd first landed, but I
wasn't. I heard it clearly, but it didn't move. Nothing on
it moved.
Startled, I took a step back up the flagstone steps.
"I...I mean, yes, yes he is."
"I didn't mean to frighten you, you know." Its great
head swung slowly toward me. There was a glint of light
somewhere deep behind its eyes. It could have swallowed me
whole, right then and there, and I'd have never noticed.
"I understand..."
"Can I go in? It's very tiring keeping my tail in the
air like this, and this is such a wonderful garden."
I looked up at its tail suspended a number of stories
above me. There were barbs on the end. Giant hooks that
couldQ It was gone....
"I can go in, then? Yes?" came a strange voice.
I looked down. The dragon was gone, vanished. In its
place stood a young man, younger than me, maybe twenty or
so, garbed in a fine Arabian suit of the most beautiful blue
silk I had ever seen. His skin was pale, and his features
those of Michelangelo's David. His eyes stood out as a sharp
silver and blue sparkle. I laughed, stupidly.
He smiled. "Of dear, I've startled you again. I am
sorry."
I tried to smile a little myself. "I didn't know
dragons could do that." I said sheepishly. I'd taken a few
more steps backward without realizing it.
He walked toward me and placed one finger to his lips
as he passed. "Please don't tell anyone, it's supposed to be
a secret."
More secrets, I thought. No problem. It was sure as
hell more interesting than Missouri.
The modern decor of the house seemed to intrigue him.
He questioned me on the creator of every piece of art he
saw, but only paused once to lean in for a better look at
the Warhol, god knows why. I led him upstairs, and deciding
to be grandiose, threw wide the study doors as he entered.
He grinned, and strode past me. "May I present,
Dunklezahn," I said as he entered.
The man the dragon had come to see stood as we entered.
He hadn't cleaned up the room any; it still reeked of
sausage and pepperoni, but he had clothed himself in a
simple outfit of black boots and denim pants, and one of the
white cotton shirts he'd bought the other day. He'd kept his
face unpainted.
"My it's been some time, hasn't it?" he said, touching
the fingers of his left hand to his chest, just below the
heart. I'd seen him do that a few times, but he'd never
explained what it meant. I think, however, it meant he was
viewing the new arrival as an equal; thank god.
"Yes, it has Harlequin," replied the dragon, repeating
the gesture. "I was pleased to here of the outcome of your
chal'han." Dunklezahn didn't turn, but I felt his presence
on me for just a moment. Obviously, there were no secrets
from him.
Harlequin grinned. "I'll bet you were." He gestured at
the black leather mushroom couch across from him. "Won't you
sit down?"
The dragon nodded. "Thank you." He reached the couch,
looked down at it for a moment, and the carefully sat
himself. Only after he was fully down and stable, did he
lean back. He smiled.
"So, what can I do for you?" inquired Harlequin.
"I take it you are aware of my status?"
Harlequin's head cocked. "You mean as host of Wyrm
Talk?"
I laughed to myself. Dunklezahn had been interviewed by
an international media team shortly after reemerging. He'd
apparently enjoyed the experience, especially his
spontaneous cross-examination of the journalists, so much
that he requested his own show from one of the networks. In
the intervening years he'd only focused on the idea long
enough to have three shows produced. Harlequin and I had
watched the show the last time that it had been on. The
dragon, obviously enthralled with modern culture, spent the
whole program commenting on anything and everything. In a
couple of segments he'd taken the idea of confrontational
journalism to such an extreme that I suggested the show
should have been renamed Wyrm Food.
Dunklezahn grinned. "Exactly so. I find the whole
concept of media fascinating. Free, unrestricted information
exchange. Who would have imagined?"
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it unrestricted," said
Harlequin.
"No," agreed the dragon "nor would I. Which is exactly
why I'm here."
"Oh?"
"I would like you to be the subject of my next
program."
"What!" Harlequin exclaimed, leaping to his feet.
I laughed aloud and then clamped my hand over my mouth.
Harlequin glared at me for a split second, and I'd probably
regret it later, but it was such a joy seeing him surprised.
"Well, yes," continued the dragon, "I think you'd make
a wonderful guest."
Harlequin ran his hand through his hair as he shook his
head. "Of all the things I was expecting to talk about..."
"But, Harlequin, you were always the best storyteller.
Just think of how these humans would be enthralled by the
things you could tell them! There's so much they just don't
understandQ"
"And I'm certainly not going to tell them!" interrupted
Harlequin.
The dragon tilted his head oddly. "But don't you think
they have a right to know? It is their world, after all."
Harlequin breathed out heavily, his brow furrowed. "You
want to just tell them everything? Reveal all the myriad
secrets of the universe? You want me to..." He turned toward
me, arm extended and fingers twitching madly. "You want me
to..."
"Spill my guts on global television?" I suggested.
"Yes!" He said snapping his fingers, and turning back
toward the dragon, who blinked. "Do you want me to spill my
guts on television? Open dear Pandora's box once again?"
"Well yes," said the dragon. "Do you realize how
confused they must all be? Look at how their world has
changed. Don't you think they have a right to know what all
this means?"
Harlequin nodded vigorously and moved toward the center
of the room gesturing wildly. "Oh course they do!" he said.
"But why tell them? Let them figure it out; that's where all
the fun is! The clues are there!"
"The clues...?" the dragon, and I, were baffled.
"In the mystery of life, Dunklezahn! The world is like
a giant tapestry. You start out standing very close to.
There's a lot there to see, and if you like, you can spend
your whole life inspecting that one little section. Some may
find that section isn't enough. If they want, they can step
back and see more of the picture. Eventually, they may find
themselves standing far enough back that it's all there
hanging before them.
"If you start them standing all the way back, they'll
become confused. They won't know where to look first.
They'll miss seeing the whole picture." He finished and
folded his arms across his chest, a satisfied smirk on his
face. I eyed the dragon, who still looked perplexed.
"Don't you think there are some things they should be
warnedQ" he began.
"You mean like the invae?" Harlequin asked.
"As a beginning, yes," the dragon told him.
Harlequin dismissed the thought with a gesture.
"They're of no concern, and in fact they support my point
precisely! The humans knew nothing of their coming, but have
been dealing with them quite nicely, nonetheless. Spilling
our gutsQ" he nodded to me "Qto the humans early would have
denied them the discovery! The joy is in the unfolding. Let
them marvel at their world, horrific as it may be sometimes.
Let's not reveal the end of the tale before the final page
is turned, Dunklezahn. Allow the story to tell itself."
The dragon seemed to be staring at the now cold pizza,
but I could tell he was lost in thought. Finally, with a
sigh, he stood and nodded. "I'll take that as a no."
Harlequin laughed, glanced down at the ground and shook
his head.
"Thank you for your hospitality," said Dunklezahn,
moving slowly toward the door.
Harlequin looked up. "I hope I haven't fouled up your
schedule of guests."
The dragon raised an eyebrow. "No, not at all. I may
ask Lady Bran Dhighe of the Daoine Sidhe to speak in you
place."
Harlequin's face stilled. "I wouldn't."
"Oh?"
"Dunklezahn, we've at least always been cordial."
"Very true."
"But I should warn you, there are some of my kind, and
your kind, who think that you have told too much already."
"Oh?"
"Your comments about great dragons and dracoforms, for
one."
The dragon nodded. "Yes, I received some...grief from
that."
"Should you start to speak of...other things..."
Dunklezahn nodded again. "Thank you for your warning
Harlequin. There are such wonderful stories that could be
told."
Harlequin smiled. "And they will be: in time."
The dragon touched his fingers to his chest again, and
once Harlequin had repeated the gesture, began to walk out
of the room. He stopped as he passed me. "It has been a
pleasure meeting you, my lady," he said. "You do your
heritage proud." I smiled, couldn't think of what to say,
and touched my fingers to my chest. He smiled back and
returned the gesture.
I closed the doors behind him as he left, and then
turned, leaning back against them. "It's too bad; I kind of
like him." I said sadly.
"I do to," Harlequin said, looking back down at the
papers "He's the most reasonable of all of them. It'll be a
shame when we have to destroy
him."
