DragonGirl and the Nissan Platina
A note on language~
This fairytale relies on various languages and sounds to share its story. Some words may be in English, others in Spanish, and others in languages unidentifiable. I leave it to the reader to interpret their meanings.
Chapter 1
When Soil Meets Hooves
One month into her stay in the faraway village of Pachuca, Dragongirl found herself itching to fly. Being so distant from the Portal of Northamptondell had drained the strength from her wings. Looking out at the magic mountains she longed to leap from her tower, to feel the heavy fog collect on her cheeks as she dodged tree branches and nodded at passing pájaros. But she knew that despite being Dragongirl herself, it was too dangerous to test her strength in such unknown terrain. She had heard about those who ventured in the woods never to return. Days earlier, a few of her gnome compatriots sat her down at the tavern and spun tales of winter fairies and hunky townsmen alike, all who had attempted to cross the pass to Mineral de Sotodell but returned ill-starred with harrowed eyes. Apparently, shadowy figures hid in the trees and preyed on travelers, be they pedaling by foot, wing, wheel or hoof. Además, Dragongirl was not from these parts. The landscape and its inhabitants were foreign to her. She wanted so deeply to trust, to believe that the sunshine that warmed her purple porous skin as she stood on her terraza was the same radiance that resided in each heart of the Pachucans. But these tales of caution, when combined with the weakness of her wings, forced her to remain stationary in her tower.
On this morning, DG watched from her tower as the stray FiveLeggeds (perritos) gamboled and jousted in the cobblestone lanes with their carefree wildness. She sipped her Tazo and let herself fall into a daydream, recalling her time on the Isle of North Californidell just a few months back. She and SwanSister would weave through the alders and leap over frog streams, returning from the hunt covered in mud and bloody scrapes. (Of course, they would never actually ‘hunt,’ it was just an excuse to escape from their castillar responsibilities). She recalled a poem that Prince Zooks, a dear friend and spellmaker, had sent to her the day before:
Chapter 2
Bladimir
The lute of the taco seller peddling past roused Dg. Shaking herself from yet another stupor, she meandered inside to ditzy in her spellbook. She opened it up and began to browse the newest listings on the Marketplace of Grimoire, her preferred website to vend and acquire tools for her crafts. As she refreshed the page a recent listing caught her eye: a Pachucan named Bladimir wanted to sell his 2006 Nissan Platina carriagetrotter. It was currently listed at 55,000$ pesos, approximately half of her yearly salary teaching wyverns and kelpies at the universidad. Despite the exorbitant price, she hardly paused before sending Bladimir a message inquiring about its availability.
At the turn of two hourglasses, her spellbook whistled: “ding ding, a message from Bladimir, dong dong.” Ugh, I have to change my ringtone, Dragongirl thought to herself, rolling her viddies and whisking to check the message. Yes, it is still available! Would you like to come look at it? I can meet you outside of the Mega Soriana tomorrow at 4 past the meridian. Dragongirl coughed up a hefty glog of firedust in excitement. This could be good… she thought to herself. If I really like it, maybe Bladimir will be flexible with the price. With her own carriagetrotter, DG could have the flexibility of venturing from her tower, but rather than batting her wings exposed and alone, she would have the safety and mobility of this strong machine to protect her. She could venture toward the secure, well-guarded mountainpasses. She could retrieve her faraway companions, and have trusted people with whom to pass time and explore. Who knows, maybe she could even move out of the tower once and for all and relocate to the Citadell de Tenochtitlan, one of the grand megalopolises of the world, full of art, herstory, culcher. A carriagetrotter meant opportunity, a life beyond the village of Pachuca.
Before getting too ahead of herself, DG clicked on Bladimir’s account profile to make sure he wasn’t of the same swindling class of Pachucans as the man, Cristian García, who scammed her when she tried to purchase the DJ mixing set weeks before. Bladimir’s profile seemed safe enough at first glance to qualify for a public meeting - he and his marida both worked at the Dept of Public Education and boasted two sweet plumpkinders. Dragongirl sent a message back to Bladimir: sure, that works for me.
Hardly able to contain her delgoozies, she climbed down from her tower to visit her only Pachucan friend, Lucy, at the gimnasio down the way. A digression on Lucy:
Lucy, chomping on her gum, always greeted Dg with a rapidfire series of questions in EmberSpeak. Lucy had a special way of EmberSpeaking, where gum-chewing combined with mumbling to make it quite difficult to understand anything she uttered. DG would always nod and smile attentively, trying hard to follow but eventually surrendering to complete perdidismo. This evening, she unwittingly promised Lucy that she’d help with her next business venture: making a bulk purchase of No. 16 Victoria’s Secret body lotion so that she could open up her own store. (When DG eventually understood what she’d promised, she felt unsure about this endeavor for a few reasons. Goldmine? Maybe, probably not. But you never know.) She felt especially awkievard because she had agreed enthusiastically when Lucy initially proposed it, and Lucy had smiled so big that her gum almost fell from her mouth but she caught it between her tongue and lower lip in an impressive gymnastic gesture. Also, when DG was given Lucy’s WhatsApp later to coordinate this negotiation, she discovered that Lucy’s name was actually Mary and that she’d misheard her in the initial introduction. DG had been calling Mary by the nomer of Lucy this entire time…. Mary had never corrected her, or had never noticed, and such was the nature of their intimate bond.
When DG was able to get a word in between chomps, she told Mary about the Nissan Platina carriagetrotter. Mary seemed intrigued about the plan but her brows furrowed nonetheless. She began to ask DG a series of questions about Bladimir and where they planned to meet. DG explained they were to meet outside of the mega soriana. Mary approved, but made it clear to DG that this sort of exchange must be approached with the utmost caution. Dg nodded, recalling a piece of advice that Emilio, her buddy at the local tech shop, gave her over choco-quinoa one afternoon: “In Mexico, you can trust everyone. But it’s better to trust no one.”
Chapter 3
Mega Soriana, four past the meridian
DG met Bladimir. He was a middle-aged squarefaced palompet, much-cologned with sadgentle eyes. His headfur was rigid with gelzie, his plaid shirt worn yet tucked in. He greeted Dg respectfully. She still approached with caution, but felt hopeful about the interchange. Bladimir stood beside the Nissan Platina, gesturing toward it. It seemed well-trodden but sturdy (though certainly not a color Dg would have chosen for her propio carriagetrotter). She first wandered around the outside, scanning for signs of past manglage. She had spent most of the week planning for this review, scribbling a checklist in her nornjal:
Inspection documents paid
Spare tire
Owner ID legal and valid
Clean record on VIN
Etc, etc
One by one, she ticked the boxes. She checked for a spare tire in the trunk, she cross-referenced Bladimir’s license with the license plate on the Mexican Gov official screener for stolen vehicles. She took a long hard look under the hood. Everything seemed to be enough in order, in her limited opine, to take the lass for an ol’ tester. Bladimir helped her into the CT and showed her how to unlock the steering wheel and adjust the mirrors. She tried the ignition, it sputterd (not roared) with enough anima to get-er-going. They embarked on a circuit around Pachuca village. She tested the brakes, tested the speed, tested the steering and the horn. All in remarkable order. DG had her eyes on the prize. She could almost see past the southern hills at one point on the circuit; the sun beamed brightly there, while clouds nested here overhead. Her mind dashed quickly to next steps. All seemed in order.
Next steps:
Bring the lass to the most trusted mechanic in the citadell, Yelp’s highest rank and highest charging. Ask them to do a complete review of the vehicle, and (without Bladimir in the room) make a recommendation of a fair pricepoint
Confirm at the Ministria de Seguridad Publica that all the papers are in order
Receive her RFC to qualify as a drive-worthy citizen and then receive her license
But even if all this went suavecito… 55,000? Too much. That would have to be negotiated. She explained the mechanic situation to Bladimir and he agreed, saying he thought that sounded fair.
