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"How do I know you're telling the truth? You don't exactly look like a dragon."
He rolled his eyes. "And you've met a lot of dragons then, have you?" He sighed. "Look, I get it. Your great-grandfather thought I was a boy from a neighboring farm when he first met me. After he got over his shock, he was a fantastic assistant, right from the start. You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about. But I can't do business on my own, and if I tried to negotiate without an assistant, I'd be laughed at. So come inside, sit down, and tell me about yourself."
I pursed my lips. He could be completely full of it, but on the off chance this really was Bolivar I didn't want to risk pissing him off. So I shuffled in, dragging my three big suitcases behind me. "Where can I, uh…" I looked around his house, really for the first time, and my gaze caught on a black and white photo of my great-grandfather when he'd been about my age, and next to him was the guy on the couch. Up to their knees in water on some beach somewhere, they had their arms around each other. It was definitely my great-grandfather and this guy who I was now sure was Bolivar, and who I'd probably already pissed off. I swallowed quickly, trying to think of how best to apologize for being stupid.
"Second door on the left," he called to me.
I looked over at him and found that his attention wasn't on me at all. He was ignoring me completely, which was possibly the best thing for us both. I'd clearly screwed up.
"Bolivar?" I asked as I came up beside him.
He turned the TV off and looked up at me. "Yeah, kiddo?"
I flinched at the nickname. I hated nicknames in general, but also just being treated like a kid. "Sorry about that, how I thought you weren't yourself."
He smirked and waved me away. "I'm sure it's not theonly obnoxious thing you'll do this week, or maybe not even today. Put your things away then come back and you can tell me about yourself."
I was quick to leave him, and just as quick to put my clothes in the empty closet. The bedroom he'd given me was smaller than I was used to, but I had a bed, a desk, and even my own little TV. It was everything I would need for the next few months of working for him before I went back home to Missouri for a Christmas break. I would also have a break for the summer too, just two weeks off each time, and I was already looking forward to them. I knew that serving Bolivar was a great honor and I'd been excited to come here, but I'd thought that I'd be serving a dragon in a castle. Not some guy that looked like he was my age and lived in a ranch house. He looked human, he acted human, and I was feeling really let down.
I was almost done hanging up the last of my pants when Bolivar came to my open bedroom doorway. "Do you need anything else in your room?"
I shook my head. "No. I'm fine. Thanks." I was much more careful about how I spoke to him now that I knew who he was.
I thought he would have left me after that, but he didn't. He came over and looked at my clothes, and then at my books that I'd left strewn across the bed. When he picked one up I nearly snatched it out of his hands. He hadn't asked if he could see it at all. He'd just done it.
"So…you like to read?" He put my book back, nearly exactly where it had been.
He asked me that like he was asking if I liked to breathe air. I wondered if he had any interest in getting to know me at all, or if he was just trying to make small talk so that we were a little less like strangers.
"I like to read," I told him, if only to keep him from beingupset with me.
He pursed his lips, then looked around the room a bit. "I've got pizza in the freezer if you get hungry. I wasn't sure what humans eat now. Humans your age, I mean. Your great-grandfather liked pasta. Frank could eat an entire box of it in one sitting. Do you like pasta?"
It was good to know that even a dragon was as awkward at small talk as I was. I shrugged. "It's okay. I do like pizza, though."
Bolivar seemed relieved at that. "Good. There's plenty of it."
We were both quiet again. My clothes were hung up and I only had my books to put away, but that would mean getting really close to him. "Bolivar?"
"Yes, Wesley?"
I was glad he hadn't called me kiddo again. "Uh…so…what do you actually want me to do here? Like I know I'm supposed to run errands for you and deliver messages to the other dragons, but I'm sure they have email, so what do I do? What did my great-grandfather do?"
"Do…" Bolivar looked around my room again. "You could… No. That doesn't happen for another week. We could… But that takes too long. Frank mostly watched TV and went for walks down by the water. He would bring me back rocks or small shells. One time he found a shark's egg sac and told me humans called it a mermaid's purse. When you're not dealing with the other dragons, you could do that. Or you could find your own thing to collect and then share with me."
He sounded insane. "You want me to collect things, for you?"
"Oh, yes. Come with me, I'll show you." He took my hand, pulling me along to the end of the hallway. The door was open, and he let me go first. Every wall, every inch of space all aroundme, was filled with glass cases. Each box had a name attached to it but no date, although I could tell that some of the pieces inside were very old. There were empty cases, too. And one held a shelf that had my name on it, right below a shelf filled with seashells and my great-grandfather’s name.
"Anything at all?" I asked.
"Yes. As long as you find it yourself. No buying it off Ebay. And whatever it is, it has to fit on the shelf. And it can't be perishable. Jeremy tried giving me fruit one time when he first started. Fruit is not a good treasure."
I didn't remember a Jeremy in my journals. "When did you have a Jeremy?"
Bolivar brought me to one of the first shelves. "Here, Jeremy was my fourth companion. He only lasted two years before he died. Poor boy. Someone shot him with an arrow."
I briefly glanced at the little animal skulls before I turned back to Bolivar. "So he lived when? In what century?"
