The waiting dragon

           Josie was in the process of creating a make-shift bandage in front of the sink when she realized she was no longer alone—and yet, no one had come through the door. This could mean only one thing.  Hoping to see a friendly fuzzy image, Josie raised her eyes to the mirror.

Just behind her own reflection stood the figure of a blurred, elderly clergyman.  As she struggled to maintain her composure Josie considered attempting to casually stroll out of the ladies' room to the relative safety of the bus depot lobby, but her arm was still bleeding all over the counter.  She didn't really have a choice.   She wasn't a good enough actress to pretend no one was there. 

There was nothing for it.  With a deep breath Josie turned around and waved at him.  “Hello,” she said, in what she hoped was a genial sort of way.

            “You can see me?” the Minister exclaimed.   

             “Of course.”

            “So I was right—you were following my friend.”

            “I don’t know what you mean,” Josie replied, rapidly deciding that the best course of action was to act as stupid as possible.  It wasn't as if she wanted to earn the Minister’s respect—she just wanted him to leave her alone, the sooner the better.  And god knew Josie really had no idea what was going on with this whole Interior business, anyway, so acting stupid wouldn't be that much of a stretch.  “Following who?” she asked.

            Ignoring her question, the Minister demanded, “How is it that you have come to be involved in this?”

            “Involved in what?”

            The Minister sighed expressively.  “Where,” he said, “is the file?”

            “What file?”

            “The one you stole from us.”

Josie held up her hands.  “I’d love to help you, but as you can see, I don’t have any file.”

“I saw my friend chasing you.”

“What friend?”

            “You obviously think I am a fool.”

            “I think nothing of the sort.”

            “Why are you helping the King?”

            “Which king?”

            “You are not from the Interior.”

            “The Department of Interior?”

            “Why can you see me?”

            “Can’t everyone?” Josie asked.  “And, hey, what are you doing in the ladies’ room anyway?  You don’t look like a girl.”

            For a moment Josie could have sworn the Minister was going to explode.  But when he smiled instead, Josie almost wished he hadn't.  Nothing about that smile felt like a warm fuzzy.  “You must be a queen in your world,” he said, but Josie shook her head.  “No.  Only a girl.”

“There is nothing ‘only’ about it,” the Minister replied, in such a way that made Josie’s skin crawl.  “Well, my dear, I would love to chat and learn more about you, but it appears that I must take my leave.  Until we meet again.”

And the image vanished as mysteriously as it appeared.