Dragons Sky

by Noah Harris

  She transferred the egg and vegetable circle onto the plate with a large mound of refritos and grated cheese over the tops of both before heaping bacon onto the remaining space on the plate. She then carried it over along with the pitcher of coffee. Angeliza slid the platter of food in front of him, topped off his coffee, and slipped a fork into his hand.

  “There, no reason to go pay for anything.”

  “I appreciate it, but you sure you don’t want some. This is an awful lot of food.” While charge knew he could put away the entire platter, he had gotten into the habit of eating frequently throughout the day to hide the sheer volume of food he ate on a regular basis from full humans.

  At the offer, Angeliza turned back with a smile. “Quite generous, but you’re one of Tezcatlipoca’s children – you have no trouble eating that entire platter and coming back for more.”

  Charge’s fork hovered over the frittata, as his gaze slowly raised from the plate to the little full human’s face. She didn’t precisely smile, but met his gold gaze evenly. Charge was left with no doubt that the woman knew precisely what he was. Tezcatlipoca was the Aztec god of the night – represented by the jaguar.

  He had been called one of the god’s “children” before, by an old man on the streets of Las Vegas. The man had caught Charge and Sammy rummaging in the dumpster behind his shop. While Sammy had bolted, Charge had gone at the older man, to give his smaller friend a window to escape.

  “Tezcatlipoca!” the man had easily caught Charge and drug him in the back door of his shop by the front of Charge’s shirt. “Sit. Sit Tez! The Aztecs would admire your willingness to charge into battle, but you need to learn to handle yourself. Even when you finally grow into the size that the rest of those that can change tend to reach. It is important to know how to fight cleanly.”

  Charge drug himself from his memories to the present, he looked at Angeliza another minute before asking, “You know what I am?”

  “My grandmother lived deep in Mexico, there was a family in the village that was odd. I became friends with their daughter. She and I had snuck out together. We had wanted to chase light flies…umm, lightning bugs I think you would call them. We didn’t know there was a pack of Mexican Wolves migrating through. Out of nowhere, we were surrounded by three wolves. She snarled, it was a sound I had only ever heard come from an animal. You could tell, the warning gave the wolves pause, but it didn’t last long. Then out of the night comes this massive animal. It went at the wolves.”

  Angeliza sat at the table as Charge shoveled the frittata and cheese topped beans into his mouth. “I would have run, but my friend grabbed my arm and held me there. The giant animal didn’t kill the wolves, but it did hurt them enough that they ran. Then, it turned to us. I was terrified, but my friend started crying ‘lo siento, papi’ – ‘sorry, daddy.’ Then that big animal changed shape. Suddenly, her father was crouched in front of us. He sighed – you could see that he was frustrated and angry. Looking back, I know he was angry because he was afraid. The wolves could have killed us.”

  “What did he say?” Charge asked around a bite of bacon.

  “Hah. He was faced with two sobbing little girls. He just sighed, picked us up and took us to the house. Her mother fed us hot milk and put us to bed. He had me back at my grandmother’s first thing the next morning. She wasn’t sure what to say or think of the fact that I had made friends with his daughter. We were both clearly warned later that day that if we wanted to chase bugs we would have to do so with permission and supervision.

  “You tell anyone?”

  “Oh no. Not till today. I promised her father was he took me home that I wouldn’t say anything and that would be thanks enough for him saving me. My silence would keep his baby safe, and that was what mattered to him. But I figure telling one like him is a bit different.”

  “Probably,” Charge murmured. He finished the last slice of bacon, checked the time on his phone, and drained the rest of his coffee.

  “Thank you, mama,” Charge added a saucy wink with his smirk. “It was excellent!”

  “Where are you off to? You going to stay out of trouble?”

  “Hah, yeah – I’m off to work.”

  “You working?” she asked intrigued.

  “Yeah. Jon’s friend gave me a job at his shop. I’m a mechanic.”

  “Hah! You having fun in Mr. Forrest’s garage yet.”

  “Oh yeah. Just ignore the piece of crap parked in front of it. That’s mine. Until I get it running again, I get to be spoiled and drive one of his pretty toys.”

  Angeliza laughed as she shooed him out the back door and on his way.

  Even if he hadn’t felt it, Charge could hear the buzzing vibration of his phone. Using a clean corner of the shop rag, he pulled it out of the pocket on the leg of the coveralls Marster’s had had waiting for him – and that Benny had taken great enjoyment in throwing at his face. Lifting the phone to his face, Chage swiped the screen with his nose. He knew it looked ridiculous, but it worked and no one could see him where he laid under the Audi.

  From Jon…ok – what does he want, Charge wondered.

  Hey! Hope Day 1 is going well. 1. I saw the Morgan this morning. You’re awesome. 2. Let’s get dinner when you get off – my treat. It’s a little bit of a drive, but I’d love for you to try this BBQ place. I’ll pick you up at the shop. K?

  Mmm, smoked meat. I’m up for that. Charge glanced around to make sure no one was checking under the car before lifting his phone back to his face. He squiggled his phone against his nose, grateful for the ability to swipe text. He pecked his nose, wiped again, pause, swipe peck. He lifted the phone to check the message.

  Sure. Sounds good.

  Satisfied, Charge pecked again, this time on the send button, before tapping the button on the side of his phone through the rag, sending the screen back to black. He tucked the phone back in his pocket, and reached for a wrench.

  “That gives a whole new meaning to texting,” despite the low whisper, Charge could hear the laughter in the man’s voice. He tipped his head back, and found Marsters’ upside-down face by the Audi’s muffler.

  Charge rolled his eyes, looked back up at the engine, and whispered back, “Saves time. I don’t have to get out from under the car and wash my hands to answer a text with three words.”

  “Hey,” Marsters answered, “Whatever works.” He then raised his voice to a normal conversational level so the full-humans in the garage could hear him, “How’s it going, Sorrenson?”

  Charge considered knocking the wrench for form, but decided not to bother. “Fine. Just have an oil-burner.”

  “Well, I figured I’d check in on you. You might be highly recommended, but I like to verify.”

  Charge tipped his head way back again and saw Marsters’ upside-down smirk. The wolf held up a finger, then another, and finally a third. Before a fourth could pop up, Benny’s voice clearly crowed through the garage, “Oy!” Short and Angry, as the guys called him had to raise his voice and holler over the collective groan from everyone else. “Hefe! I’m still not sure of that pretty boy yet!”

  Charge rolled his eyes when he saw Marsters’ shoulders start shaking with his silent laughter. Shit starter! Charge thought as he set the wrench to another bolt.

  Jon snarled at the traffic – he rarely bothered, but he was already pissed. The rest of the management team had gotten their revenge and they had been smart about their timing for once, waiting until he hit an afternoon lull and emerged from the safety of his office. He had gotten into the office early and passed the morning in quiet productivity. He had strode purposefully out of the office suite’s doors to take the lunch hour. When he had come back from lunch he had been expecting some sort of bad-tempered attempted ambush to wait for him – it hadn’t been. But, 3:30 had come and he had finally needed to get up and walk. He had decided to do a brisk lap around the floor the firm housed its offices in. Three-quarters of the way around the office, Jon’s name had been called from the CFO�
�s office.

  With a sigh, Jon had stepped into the office. He hadn’t seen any of the rest of the senior managers, but he had smelled unmistakable haze of Mitchell Cassio’s heavy-handed aftershave, and known he had walked into a trap.

  “I am so glad that you volunteered to represent the firm at SOA’s Investment Symposium in Chicago next week,” The CFO had bubbled excitedly.

  Jon slammed his open palm against the lush leather on the seat next to him. Two days in a row they pull this shit. Two in a row! Jon hissed out a breath. He had been so angry that he hadn’t bothered to send Swalters the investment contract and had walked out of the office more than an hour early. As if he didn’t have enough to do, now he had to figure out what he would say on the panel the firm had agreed to speak at.

  As he had with increasingly regularity over the last year, Jon considered the options of retiring – he was well vested and could afford it, changing careers, or trying to go out on his own. Each had its own temptations.

  Guess I should really start thinking about my options. I don’t think I want to deal with the inner-office bullshit anymore. It’s like being back in high school – and I much preferred college.

  Jon whipped the Challenger onto his street and hit the buttons for both the gat and the garage. Since he had left early, he had actually managed to make it home by five-thirty. Still, that meant he had two hours to kill before going to get Charge and going to the Barbecue place he had in mind. It was an easy hour’s drive, but that was still less than what it would take to get out to the biker bar with the awesome crab – he would save that for the weekend.

  Jon knocked the shifter into neutral, and pulled up the brake lever when the Challenger came to a stop in front of the garage. He leaned back and sighed.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I don’t want to go to Chicago next week. It’s already Wednesday and I hate feeling rushed. Here I was thinking I would be able to relax this weekend and work on the Morgan. Instead, I have to spend it prepping for the symposium.

  Jon’s phone buzzed in his breast pocket. He pulled it out and slid his thumb across the screen as it started buzzing in earnest. Jon considered the number on the screen. It was out of state, but as he didn’t often get junk calls Jon answered.

  “Jon Forrest,” he said clearly.

  “Jon – Walt here!”

  Shit, Jon thought. It was Mr. Swalters.

  “I was checking to see who would be speaking at the SOA event next week – I sometimes like to take my boy who is studying business and investing – and saw they had added your name to the list. You didn’t tell me you’re going to be in Chicago next week!”

  “Well, I honestly didn’t know whether I would be or not. Not until today that is.”

  “Ahh – Well, you’re going to be up in my neck of the woods. You’ll let me take you to dinner. I think I’d like to meet the man I am trusting with my money face to face.”

  “Of course, Mr. Swalters.”

  “Walt – Jon, call me Walt.”

  “If you insist,” Jon couldn’t help the chuckle in his voice.

  “Damn right, I do. Speaking of – I was expecting that contract from you today.” Swalters commented, his voice lifting on the end, a a way of questioning why?

  “You’re right, Walt, I meant to. But today turned into a complete crapshoot and I tore out of the office early.”

  “One of those days, huh? The kind that makes you reconsider your life choices, and plans for the future right?”

  “That is one way to describe it.”

  “You know what – why don’t you wait to send me the contract and just bring it with you. If any of those fussies ask, just tell them I am insisting on meeting the man who will be managing my money.”

  “Hah – I can do that.”

  “Well you kick your feet up and have a couple of stiff drinks and you’ll be able to face tomorrow.”

  “I might manage that later,” Jon smiled. Swalters had a genuinely infectious positivism, behind the money and power he had captured through success.

  “Later? Why? Surely you’re not going to work?”

  “No, no. I have two hours to kill and then I am going to take a friend out to dinner.”

  “Ahh, a lady friend. That might be surer medicine than the stiff drink.”

  “No,” Jon laughed, “He’s a mechanic.”

  “A man – well nothing wrong with that, and nice to have one that’s handy and shares your interests. I sure don’t share my wife’s interests in the spas.” It took Jon a moment to realize the implication, but before, he could protest Swalters continued, “Oh – I got a call from the office coming in Jon. I’ll call you Monday. I look forward to meeting you in person!”

  Jon sat in the car with the phone to his ear long after the call had clicked off and the device was silent. He slowly lowered the phone.

  “But it’s not like that. I mean – I’m not…Ugh! Who am I kidding.” Jon’s forehead clunked against the steering wheel. Finally, he lifted it and stared at the center of the steering wheel. As he often did, Jon considered swapping out the leather wrapped for the original wood one, but as always, the thought of a Texas summer splitting the wood made him cringe.

  Jon pulled the handle and stepped out of the car. He turned to get his briefcase off the seat, but a movement caught his eye. He turned and found a pretty tabby sunning on the hood of Charge’s broken-down Corvette. The cat stared at him through half open eyes, the same shade of gold as the man’s whose car it rested on. Jon approached the silver tabby as it sat up and continued to stare, and stare.

  “Fine,” Jon threw up his hands and paced a moment. “Yes, he is attractive. Yes, I get hot thinking about him – and let me tell you I haven’t gotten hot thinking about someone in a number of years. But, and let me say this, I am 13 years older than him, and while he might be gay, I seriously doubt he is interested in a guy like me.” Jon pointed a finger at that grey wedge shaped nose, “A guy who can only admit after all of these years that he is sexually attracted to men to a cat. A strange cat, I might add.”

  The tabby bumped its nose against Jon’s finger. Sighing, Jon took another step closer and scratched behind the cat’s ears. The thick, soft fur was a balm to his temper, and the feline’s contented purr had him relaxing – finally.

  Jon gave the tabby an unsure look, “You probably won’t come back,” he muttered. Still he lifted the cat, found that it was a girl and carried her through the garage. “It’s cooled down, but maybe you’re hungry. I’ve probably got some canned tuna in water in the back of the pantry. Or it could be salmon. Either way, I think you’ll like it.”

  IX

  Jon considered the cat where she sat scarfing down salmon in the corner beside the table. Her coat was a fascinating pattern of thick steel-grey marbling over the much paler silver fur that covered most of her body. Stripes ringed her tail and feet and whimsical poofs of white fur crested the tips of her ears and bushed out around her neck.

  “I wonder what all you’re mixed with?” Jon asked in general.

  At his voice, the tabby arched her back and lifted her face from the bowl. Her head turned nearly a hundred-and-eighty-degree to consider him. She blinked her pale, amber eyes once and went back to the fish. Jon snickered.

  “Well you get to be ‘Kitty’ for a couple of days. If you are still around when I get back from Chicago, I’ll figure out a better name for you.” Deciding to prepare – at least partially for the potential of a pet – Jon went around the long edge of the counter, opened a drawer and pulled out a notepad and a pen.

  Kitty Needs, he scrawled across the top of page.

  “Well, what do cats need? Never had a pet before… hmmm. Well everything needs food and water. Maybe I should get some pet bowls instead of using the ones out of the counter. Angeliza will get annoyed with me if she finds dishes on the floor. Ok, there’s one thing for the list.

  Bowls. Food.

  “Ok – what else. Umm...cats like toys right? I guess I’ll look and see
what they have. I wonder if Charge has ever had a cat and knows what to get?” Jon muttered as he scribbled Toys? on the list.

  He stared at Kitty another minute before another item dawned on him. “Oh – shit. Well, yeah precisely…shit. Ok – where would I even put a litter box. Even if you go outside and stick around, I should have one for nighttime, when it's storming, or any other time you are inside.”

  Jon spun in a circle and suddenly realized the disadvantage of the open floor plan: nowhere to hide such a thing. He wandered through the living space, considered every corner, and rejected them as quickly. Jon stepped into the hall that led to the two bedrooms. He opened the utility closet, and decided there was just no way a litter box would fit. He shut the twin doors and turned. Jon jerked when he found the tabby sitting behind him. She blinked her gold eyes as he stepped around her, carefully avoiding her tail.

  He stepped into the bathroom Charge was using and considered the space. When he didn’t have a guest – a rare occurrence to begin with – the room went greatly unused. Jon opened the large cabinet door that had once been a hamper beneath the upper linen closet.

  “Hmm, I think this is going to be it Kitty. I can mount a cat door in the cabinet door for you that way everything is tucked away. I remember seeing a commercial for a pseudo self-cleaning litter box. I’ll go for that.” Jon looked around for the cat. He found her sprawled across the counter, her tail swishing back and forth as she watched him through slumberous, heavy-lidded eyes.

  Jon noted the tools, supplies, litter, and the litter-box on his list as he stood from the couch. He then pulled his phone out of his pocket. He felt his eyes widen when he found that it was already 7 o’clock.

  “You, little miss are an utter time killer. I will pick up everything on the way home from dinner. You happy there?” Jon asked as the silver tabby rolled over onto her back and batted a paw in the air. Jon reached out and scratched her under her fluffy chin before he walked out of the bathroom and rushed into his room to change out of the suit he had worn to the office.