Page 40 of Reptile Dysfunction
“Now, everyone, please,” Mason says. He kneels down to Mr. Murphy’s level and places a steady hand on the gnome’s back. “I know you must have some troubling memories from that time. This night has brought up a great deal of emotions for many folks.”
Mr. Murphy looks up at Mason with a flash of anger. But there’s also a tremor of feeling behind his eyes, and soon, he shakes his head and sighs.
“So much laughter. And the feathers, they were everywhere. I was allergic, you know!” he cries. “I was sneezing for days!”
Mrs. Murphy pats him on the arm. “It’s all in the past now, dear.”
“All the snot. Was it all really worth it in the end?” Mr. Murphy asks.
“Yeah,” the troll replies. “I think it was.”
“You know, one day I’d like to hear your story. I think a perspective like yours ought to be recorded,” Mason says.
Mr. Murphy looks up at him in astonishment. “Now see, that’s why you’re this town’s leader. You understand how important an old man like myself is to this town. All these young gawkers could learn a thing or two.”
“I agree,” Mason says. He stands, asks Mr. Murphy to call Deborah and set up an appointment, and returns to my side.
“That was impressive,” I say, and I mean it. I’d heard plenty of tales of that old man’s mischief and mayhem. It would’ve been easy to escalate the situation or force a resolution through authority.
But the way he handled it, acknowledging the man’s feelings and talking him down instead, I can see why everyone here has so much love for him. “And you were genuine, too. You’re actually going to interview him?”
Mason nods his head. “It’s actually part of a project I’ve been starting up. Interviewing our more senior citizens, getting their perspective on historical events and such. I think it’s important to pass their stories down.”
My eyes light up. “That’s a great idea! Does Eddie know? I bet he’d love to feature some of the interviews in the paper if you don’t mind.”
Mason nods. “I’ve been meaning to rope him into it. He has more experience with interviewing subjects. So do you, actually, and I happen to know you’re rather good at it, too.”
I smile sheepishly. “Well, I’d be working in an unofficial capacity right now.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t ask you to do so for free. But if the opportunity came up, I’d insist that Eddie send you.”
If Mason is trying to win me over through flattery, it’s working. He gets me another drink, a bit more on the chocolate side this time. As we continue chatting, a little girl with big red curls bounces up to us and pulls on Mason’s pant leg.
“Mr. Mayor, will you dance with me?” she asks. She clasps her hands behind her back and moves from side to side. I notice a small pair of wings almost like a bat’s on her back.
“Oh, of course, Melissa. Do you mind?” Mason asks and hands me his glass.
“Go right ahead,” I reply.
He escorts the giddy child to the dance floor, full of elderly couples slow dancing, and holds her hands as she places her feet on the tops of his shoes. I sigh, remembering when I used to dance like that on my Dad’s feet. Well, except I didn’t have lizard feet or wings, but other than that, it’s almost exactly the same.
Mason’s snakes bob with the movement, mouths open and looking like they’re smiling. The entire scene feels more than just nostalgic. It’s tugging at something deep in my heart. A strong pull of longing fills me. His gentle strength and sweet nature are taking me in, making me fall hard for him.
A man in a suit rushes into the room and interrupts the canvas I’ve found myself painting my dreams on. He whispers something in Mason’s ear. Though the man himself maintains a neutral expression, his snakes pull back in shock.
“Very well, I’ll be right in. That was a lovely dance, Melissa,” Mason says, giving the half-dragon girl a pat on the head. She giggles and runs back to her mother, all rosy smiles. “Charlotte, I apologize, but it seems I have to cut this evening short. Urgent business.”
“Oh, sure, of course. I’ll see you soon,” I reply. Mason pauses in front of me, lingering there as if he wants to say something more. Or do something. I’m fighting my own urge to send him off with a kiss.
He pats me on the shoulder, smiles, and follows the man out of the building. I sigh, leaning against the far wall with a dessert martini in my hand and watching couples from every generation dance together. I can’t help but feel disappointed it wasn’t me who got that one dance with Mason before he had to leave.
I could probably join them. Find a dance partner of my own. There are certainly enough single men here to go around. Heck, some of them are even around my age! But I find myself having no interest in doing that.
In fact, I feel a little empty. I miss his presence at my side. That softness and stability he offered with just his arm made me feel so welcome. So warm.
I genuinely want him to be here with me, right now. I look down at my shoes and bite my lip. What I thought was just my reporter’s instinct for finding a reliable source, a good story or expose, is something else.
It’s something more.