Linda Gilmore

         Troy kept a dragon in his basement.

         There were definite advantages to this arrangement—his winter heating bills were lower than anyone else's, and he never ran out of hot water. Mice were not a problem, either.

         But the situation had its drawbacks, too. Cedric (the dragon) preferred a diet of beef and pork, with a little chicken and fish for variety. He also enjoyed the cruciferous vegetables, but these had an unfortunate effect on his digestive system. (A dragon with gas ... well, use your imagination.)

         It had been expensive to feed a growing dragon, and Troy had discovered that he had to buy meat at different places. Once you've bought a side of beef and a whole hog at one locker plant, they looked at you pretty funny when you went back a week later to buy the same thing. Fortunately, Cedric's appetite had slowed along with his growth in recent months. And once Troy had been able to teach him the difference between a cow and a deer, Cedric could hunt, though he had to be careful about where.

         Troy's dating life had come to a standstill. A dragon in your basement is the kind of thing one should get out into the open early in a relationship, but it was also one of those revelations that sent women hurrying out of the restaurant to summon a cab, fast.

         Repeated rejection hadn't completely discouraged him, though. He had noticed that Eleanor, the clerk at the local office supply store, seemed like a very nice girl and he thought about asking her out. But he hesitated because of all the complications related to having Cedric in his life.

         The whole invisibility issue, for example. Troy had been informed when he had acquired the egg that would hatch Cedric that most people couldn't see dragons. So far, this had proved to be true.

         Once a plumber came to do some work in the basement while Cedric was small, but still too big to hide. The plumber had been oblivious to Cedric's presence in the far corner, only commenting that it sure stayed nice and warm in the basement.

         So why even mention a dragon that no one else could see? It would certainly have spared Troy some embarrassment and concerned looks.

         But he had always been truthful and he wasn't about to change that now. He knew it was a slippery slope best avoided all together. Once you started being less than forthcoming about the invisible dragon in your basement, what next?

         Still, when people brought up the subject of pets in casual conversation, Troy usually found a reason to wander away or change the subject. He had told his (now former) best friend about Cedric when he first hatched. Troy might as well have said he had a 6-foot rabbit named Harvey.

         Of course, for the first couple of years, raising Cedric took all of Troy's free time. And he was delighted when he realized Cedric could talk, though he wondered about the British accent. Talk might not best describe it—but despite the fact that Cedric's lips didn't form words, he was an excellent communicator, and an excellent listener, too. Troy found the relationship quite therapeutic.

         Cedric seemed happy living in the basement. He was on the small side for a dragon, and the basement was dry and cozy. Troy enlarged the outside entrance to the basement so Cedric could come in and out. There were no neighbors nearby to be alarmed by the presence of a 15-foot silvery gray dragon, even if they could have seen him. And there was no need to lock the basement entrance since Cedric could deal with any intruders.

         So Troy felt, for the most part, that he had a pleasant life. He kept to himself a lot, living and working (he was a writer) in the house he'd grown up in on the edge of town. When his parents died he inherited it, along with a cabin by a remote lake. He had flown up there on Cedric's back several times during the summer. That was fun—much better than driving or flying in an airplane—and when he rode Cedric no one could see him, either. Cedric had loved the lake, too.  He enjoyed swimming while Troy wrote. In the evenings Troy would read to Cedric—J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and Ursula LeGuin mostly. Cedric didn't care as much for Anne McCaffrey's depictions of dragons, for some reason.

         Cedric had wondered why they couldn't just stay at the lake year-round. His natural assets cancelled out most of the drawbacks such as the cold winters and the remote location. And Troy had to admit it was tempting. Cedric was a fine companion—witty and intelligent—and at the cabin Cedric could hunt freely.

         But ... Well, Cedric was a dragon. When Troy thought about it, that was the sticking point. Troy was lonely—he was almost 30 and he had no siblings or close relatives and he often imagined what it would be like to have another person to share his life with.

         So his imaginings took on a more concrete form and he thought more and more about Eleanor. Naturally, as a writer, Troy had many occasions to visit the office supply store and he always found Eleanor especially helpful. So he went back often. (By now he had a year's supply of printer paper, not to mention ink cartridges, paper clips and other various and sundry items.) He thought Eleanor seemed to enjoy seeing him, but maybe she was just being polite.

         Troy took this issue up with Cedric.

         "I really want to ask her out, but I can't tell if she really likes me," he said while sitting on the basement steps. With Troy on the upper steps and Cedric on the basement floor, they could talk face-to-face easier.

         Cedric tipped his head to the side and closed his multi-faceted eyes as he gave this some thought.

         "I'm not sure I'm much help when it comes to women," Cedric said. "For obvious reasons, I just don't understand them."

         "Yeah, tell me about it. They seem like an entirely different species to me, too," Troy said, with a sigh. "About the time I think I've got ‘em figured out, they confuse me again."

         "Well, what's the worst that could happen if you ask her out? She says no?"

         "I suppose so. And I'd survive. But Eleanor just seems so ... different from other women."

         "How?"

         "It's hard to explain. She's pretty, but that's not the most important thing. There's something about her that makes me want to know her better."

         If a dragon could have shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment, Cedric would have done so at that explanation.

         "Oh, go ahead. Don't be such a chicken. Ask her out already."

         "You're right, Cedric. I'll do it. And if she says no, well, it won't be the end of the world. Right?"

         "Right."

         But later that day, when Troy went to the office supply store and saw Eleanor at the cash register, he wasn't so sure. He spent a long time looking at fountain pens and notebooks before finally making his choices. Then he wandered around the store some more while other people were checking out. He didn't want to ask Eleanor in front of anyone else.

         "Excuse me, are you finding everything OK?"

         Troy turned to find Eleanor standing at his shoulder, smiling. Her hazel eyes looked more green under the store's lights and her brown hair was escaping from its band at the nape of her neck. Troy wanted to reach out and smooth it back, but of course he didn't.

         "Oh, yeah." He held up his pen and paper. "I guess I'm ready to check out now."

         "Well I can help you. Come on up front."

         She started down the aisle away from him and Troy screwed up his courage all at once.

         "Eleanor!"

         "Yes, Troy?" she said, turning back to him.

         "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me." Whew, he'd said it.

         She smiled and blushed a little.

         "I'd like that very much."

         The details were quickly arranged and a few days later Troy picked Eleanor up at her house to go to dinner and a movie. They never made it to the movie, but not because of any catastrophe. As they talked at dinner, Troy found himself sharing things with Eleanor he didn't usually tell anyone. Not that he had any big secrets—except for Cedric, who wasn't so much a secret to Troy's acquaintances as an incomprehensible quirk of Troy's personality—but Troy had discovered that most people found him pretty dull. He had enjoyed modest success with his first fantasy novel and he had written and published short stories and magazine articles, but after answering the usual questions that writers get asked, such as "Where do you get your ideas?" there wasn't a lot to say. Writing isn't a terribly exciting occupation, unless maybe you've become very famous and your books top the best-seller lists.

         Eleanor, on the other hand, seemed very interested in everything and it was so easy to talk to her. He realized he had been going on and on about the research for his next novel and stopped short.

         "I'm sorry. This must be boring you to death."

         "Oh no, it's not boring at all. I love to read and it's so interesting to find out more about how writers work."

         "But you've hardly talked about yourself at all."

         Eleanor smiled a little, a bittersweet smile, though.

         "There's not much to tell. I'm not very interesting, I haven't written anything or gone anywhere. I just work in a store."

         "Well, you're very good at your job and I appreciate it. And you're a very good listener."

         She blushed at that, but her hazel eyes twinkled with pleasure.

         They found so much in common that they talked in the restaurant for three hours, only leaving because the wait staff was starting to clean up.

         Troy went home and told Cedric all about it and Cedric wanted to know how she'd reacted to the news that Troy had a dragon living in his basement.

         "Well, it didn't actually come up," Troy said, a bit sheepishly.

         Cedric didn't say anything.

         "Look, every time I tell people about you, they think I'm nuts. I just want a chance to get to know her better before I tell her."

         "I guess I can understand that."

         The next few weeks passed quickly for Troy. It was a lovely autumn and he and Eleanor spent a lot of time together, hiking and going to bonfires and hayrack rides. The time not spent with Eleanor was spent working on his novel and he devoted less time to Cedric than usual.

         And Troy didn't say anything in all that time to Eleanor about the dragon in his basement.

         This began to be a source of tension between Troy and Cedric.

         "When are you going to tell her about me?" Cedric asked one Saturday afternoon, while Troy was doing his laundry. He was getting ready for another date that evening.

         "I don't know. When the time is right, I will."

         "It's just that you talk about her all the time and I'd like to get to know her, too."

         "I'm not sure there's much point to it. I mean, I tell her and she can't see you and then she thinks I'm crazy and I never see her again. I'm not ready for that to happen."

         "But maybe she will see me. You won't know until you try."

         "But what if she doesn't see you? What do I do then?"

         Troy didn't say what he feared most—that someday he might have to choose between Cedric and someone he loved. And he didn't know what he would do if it came to that.

         Cedric didn't bring it up again, but Troy felt the constraint between them. They had less to say to each other during the next couple of weeks and Troy found himself missing the easy conversation with his friend. But he couldn't seem to find the right words to say and Cedric was decidedly non-communicative.

         One Sunday afternoon during this time Troy and Eleanor went on a picnic. It was a lovely fall afternoon, warm and breezy but with a crispness that suggested cooler weather wasn't far off. The sun slanted through the many-colored leaves and made dancing shadows across their picnic blanket.

         "I love this time of year," Eleanor said. She was sitting cross-legged, with her eyes closed and her face turned toward the sun. "It almost seems magical, as if it belongs to another time."

         "I know what you mean," Troy said.

         "Do you?" she said, looking straight at him. Then she looked away from him, toward the pond nearby. "Days like this make me believe in anything. I almost expect some fantastical, magical creature to step out from the trees over there." And she pointed across the pond. Then she laughed.

         "I'm silly, I know."

         "It's not silly to hold onto wonder."

         And Troy almost told her then about Cedric. Surely a woman like this could see a dragon. But he held back. The longer he knew Eleanor, the more he dreaded the inevitable reaction to the truth of Cedric.

         But finally the evening came when Troy rushed home to tell Cedric the most important news of his life. Troy was in love. He hadn't told Eleanor yet, but he knew she was the woman for him and he wanted to tell his best friend.

         He opened the basement door.

         "Cedric! I have to tell you something."

         Silence.

         Troy turned on the light and saw that Cedric wasn't there, but the outside door was open, so he must be out in the yard.

         Troy hurried down the stairs, across the basement and outside. The back yard was large, with a small orchard at the far end. Cedric often sat outside on moonlit nights and enjoyed the air, but he was nowhere to be seen. The bright moon made unusual shadows in the yard, but none of them were Cedric-shaped.

         "Cedric? Where are you?"

         No answer.

         Maybe he was out hunting—the deer were plentiful this fall—but he usually went out at dawn. Troy began to worry. Something didn't feel right. He called again, but there was still no answer.

         It was unlike Cedric to be nearby and not answer. Troy could hear him even if he was a few miles away, but now there was absolute silence, except for the night breeze in the trees.

         What if something had happened to Cedric? Troy was about to go get in his car so he could search for him, when another thought struck him. What if, for some reason, he could no longer see Cedric? He didn't know if his ability to see dragons was a gift that could vanish or not, but the thought would not go away that he had neglected Cedric for weeks and now he'd lost him forever.

         Troy cried out from the depths of his soul.

         "No! Cedric, where are you? I'm sorry! Please don't be invisible to me!"

         "Of course I'm not invisible to you."

         The familiar voice had an immediate calming effect, but Troy still couldn't see where Cedric was. Then a shadow in the orchard moved and Cedric strolled out from under the trees. Troy rushed to him and wrapped his arms around the dragon's neck, his tears bathing the soft dragon hide.

         "But why didn't you answer me when I called?"

         "I was asleep." Cedric hiccupped. "I ate a lot of apples this afternoon and they always make me sleepy."

         "I'm glad you're here. I was so afraid I'd lost you."

         Cedric rubbed his head against Troy's shoulder. "I've always been here, and I'll always be here, as long as you want me. I won't go away."

         Troy had never questioned the gift, until he was afraid he might lose it, but now he wondered about it.

         "Why can so few humans see dragons?"

         "Because so few of you are truly honest."

         "That's it? But lots of people are honest. And even the honest ones make mistakes sometimes."

         "Lots of humans say they're honest and even tell the truth most of the time, but they're not very honest with themselves. You, Troy, have always been very honest with yourself. So you can see dragons."

         Troy pondered this for several days, as he tried to decide how to introduce Eleanor to Cedric. Because he realized he hadn't been very honest with himself when it came to his dilemma. He had to introduce the woman he loved to his best friend, who just happened to be a dragon. He still didn't know what he would do if Eleanor couldn't see Cedric, but he knew he still had to do it.

         He finally settled on a plan and invited Eleanor over to his house for dinner. She had never been to his house before, so he put in extra time cleaning. Before she arrived, he checked every bathroom and made sure the seats were down. He knew the little things mattered.

         He fixed spaghetti and meatballs and salad and set the table with his mother's good china and crystal candlesticks. Eleanor complimented him on the house and the dinner and everything went smoothly. Troy had a lot on his mind, though, what with planning the big introduction, so he didn't notice that Eleanor herself seemed a little pre-occupied.

         "Would you like dessert?" Troy asked. "I have some ice cream and I can make coffee."

         "That sounds nice."

         Troy went out to the kitchen and then called to Eleanor.

         "I'm sorry. It looks like I've left the ice cream in the deep freeze in the basement. Would you mind getting it while I make coffee?"

         He knew it was contrived, but he thought it might be best this way. And if Eleanor opened the basement door and saw only the basement, then he'd know.

         "Is this the door to the basement?" she asked after she came into the kitchen.

         "Yes, and the switch is right there by the door. The freezer is at the bottom of the stairs."

         Troy held his breath as she opened the door and started down the steps. He was at the doorway when she stopped and called to him.

         "Troy ... there's a dragon in your basement."

         She didn't sound frightened, only a little uncertain.

         He stifled the whoop of joy that threatened to erupt as he joined her on the steps.

         "Yes. His name is Cedric."

         "Hello Eleanor. I'm very pleased to meet you," said Cedric.

         Eleanor's surprise showed. "He spoke to me!"

         "Yeah, he does that. If you can see him, you can hear him. Not everyone can, you know."

         Cedric approached and leaned his head toward Eleanor, who reached out to touch him.

         "He's very soft. I mean, your skin is very soft, Cedric."

         "Thank you. Troy is right, you're quite lovely."

         "Oh my goodness," said Eleanor, blushing.

         Then she looked up at Troy.

         "You've never mentioned Cedric before. Why?"

         "I didn't know what you'd say. And I didn't know if you would be able to see him. And I didn't know what I would do if you couldn't, because I love you."

         Eleanor blinked tears away as she looked into Troy's eyes.

         "I understand. I have something to tell you, too. I wasn't sure you'd understand, but I think now maybe you will."

         "What? You have a dragon, too?"

         "No. I have an angel in my attic."

         "Really."

         "Yes. Her name is Gwyneth."

         "That's a nice name. Is she your guardian angel?"

         "Well, sort of, but not just mine. And so far no one else has been able to see her, so it's been a little odd."

         "Do you think I'll be able to see her?"

         "I can see Cedric."

         "Good point. Do you think one house can contain an angel in the attic and a dragon in the basement?"

         "I think it's worth finding out."

         When Troy and Eleanor were married, the people who knew them thought they made a wonderful couple—a little strange, but wonderful. Cedric and Gwyneth agreed.

 

 

Copyright 2006, Linda Gilmore

Linda Gilmore is an editor and writer who lives in Kansas.