PAPER STARS: An Ordinary Magic Story(3)

The dragon oinked, its curly tail wagging a mile a minute.

“Jean, I’m not kidding. It’s a dragon.”

She tipped her head, considering it. “Are you sure?”

I studied the little monster. It looked like a baby pig, all pink and sweet-faced and adorably sandy from its chubby little legs up to its squishy round belly.

It opened its mouth in what could only be described as a darling little smile. But there was a sort of wobbly haze around it, as if looking straight at it caused a slight warping of reality behind it.

Dragons could appear as anything they wanted, any size they wanted. This one, apparently, wanted to be a tiny pig.

“It’s a dragon,” I said again.

“Aw,” Jean cooed. “Who’s a cute dragon? Is it you, little piggy? Cutey-pootie dragy-wagy?” She knelt. “C’mere, baby. C’mon, piggy-poo, cuddle boo-boo.”

It oinked, absolutely delighted with her. I raised one eyebrow, absolutely suspicious of it.

Then it ran at us. Well, not at Jean who had her arms wide open ready for some pig-on-police mutual admiration.

No, it ran at me.

Not good. Not good at all.

“Hold it right there, dragon,” I said in my cop voice. “You know the rules. No violence within the boundary of Ordinary, Oregon. If you want to remain inside Ordinary, you will follow the rules.”

The pig slowed to a cute little trot, then stopped at my feet, tipping its face up at me.

Okay, so far, so good. I had its attention.

“We’ve had a complaint,” I explained. “A man looking for rocks saw you in what I assume is your more natural form? You frightened him.”

The little tail wagged faster. The dragon liked getting a scare out of the guy. I tried not to smile.

“We’ve talked him out of coming back here to get a picture of you because we do not need news of a dragon spreading on the internet. Citizens of Ordinary expect to live here without their supernatural nature being discovered by the world at large. You’ve endangered that.

“What I need from you today, is a guarantee that you will take the form of a creature belonging to the natural world if anyone else stumbles upon your cave.”

“Oink.”

“D’aw...” Jean cooed again. “Look at its little face. You can’t be mad at that little face, Delaney.”

“I’m not mad. But I am serious,” I said to the pig. “We’re going to tell the man that he probably saw a sea lion or a lost cow. If you’d rather stay in piglet form if he comes by again, that’s fine too.”

The dragon just stood there, wagging its little loopy tail, face tipped up to me like I’d uncovered the sun.

“Do you understand?”

The dragon trotted a little circle, and oinked once.

Jean snorted.

“Good. Okay.”

The dragon didn’t say anything even though I knew dragons were capable of human speech. So I guessed that was pretty much that.

Job done.

“All right then. Hope you have a nice day.”

“And Merry Christmas,” Jean added.

“Yes. Merry Christmas.” Did dragons celebrate Christmas? Who knew? Probably Myra.

I turned back into the rain that was still pelting down at an angle. At least now it was at our backs.

We didn’t try to shout over the racket of the wind, rain, and ocean as we picked our way over stones, soft wet sand, clumps of driftwood, more rocks, a tangle of kelp, and finally trudged toward the land’s edge.

We hiked up the gravel access road, the sound of storm and ocean dampened by the rise of the land on either side of us.

It was several degrees warmer without the wind, and I rubbed at my face to slick off the rain.

Jean hummed Jingle Bells as she walked around to the passenger side of the Jeep. She’d been humming Jingle Bells for three weeks straight.

It was epically annoying but I knew if I told her to stop, she’d only sing it louder.

Sisters.

She studied the phone in her hand, thumb swiping across the screen.

I found my keys, got the doors of the Jeep open, and was debating pulling off my soaking jacket when I heard a sound at my feet.

“Oink. ”

“Jean.”

“Yes?”

“The dragon is following me.”

“Dragon pig, dragon pig, fol-low-ing us home,” she sang to the tune of Jingle Bells. “I told you this is the best Christmas song. You can put any words to it!”

“Not helping.”

Jean just laughed.

“Do you need something?” I asked the dragon. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Lost?”

It trotted in a circle again, jumped up into my Jeep then hopped into the back seat, making itself comfortable with a snuffle and grunt.

“You want a ride?” I continued the apparently useless twenty questions. “Somewhere down the beach? Into town? By the lake?”

The pig snuffled again, then closed its eyes, cute as an internet meme. It started snoring.

Jean chuckled. “Oh, my gods. So cute.” She held up her phone and snapped away, then typed something.

“It can’t stay there,” I said, trying to feel grumpy about the situation and failing. The cute was powerful with this one.

“Looks like it can.” She pressed one last button. I had a feeling that pig was going to show up on all of her social media. “See how happy it is?”