"Laura Resnick - Fluff the Tragic Dragon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Laura)

claws..." She shuddered and released me. After a moment of profound silence,
she added wistfully, "He did have a certain strange, horrific beauty about him
though..."
Poor Mrs. Pearl. She was clearly the victim of too many episodes _of
Beauty and the Beast_. Taking one of her trembling, clammy hands into my own,
I asked, "What did you do then?"
"I went to the grocery store."
"You what?" It seemed rather anti-climactic.
"Well, we were out of a few things," she explained matter-of-factly.
"But... what about this fire breathing dragon you had just seen?"
She placed a hand on her bosom, which heaved alarmingly. I suddenly
wished I knew CPR. "Oh, Esther, what are we going to _do_?"
"I think you'd better tell this whole story to Mr. Pearl. I'm sure
he'll know what to do." If he had any sense, he'd have her evaluated
immediately.
I stepped past her at last and, finally free to go my own way, I
climbed four flights of stairs to my apartment, took off my shoes, and lay
down to die. A knock on my door interrupted my nap a couple of hours later.
"Who is it?" I called groggily.
It was my neighbor, Arnaud. His real name is Arnold, but when he opened
his own hair salon, he felt that _Arnaud! _ in red neon had a certain quality
that _Arnold! _ somehow lacked. Arnaud works out every day and is a damn
good-looking guy. His lover Scott, who's a model who's always off on location
somewhere, is even better looking.
I let Arnaud into my apartment and said, "Are you a weekday widow,
again?" When Scott is away, Arnaud practically lives with me. He apparently
has some kind of phobia about being alone in closed spaces. A therapist is
currently linking the problem to a past life experience.
Arnaud nodded with noticeable agitation before adding rapidly, "Did you
know there's a dragon in the basement?"
"You've been talking to Mrs. Pearl, haven't you?"
"No, I haven't told a soul!"
I stared at him. "You mean you've seen it, too?"
He stared back. "You mean you knew it was there and didn't tell me?
Esther, I might have been killed!"
"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me there really
_is_ a dragon in the basement?" I'd heard there were some pretty weird things
wandering around subterranean Manhattan, but _really_. "Did you lose a
quarter, too?"
"Quarter?" He pushed me roughly into a chair. "What are you babbling




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about?"
"Me, babbling? Arnaud, who came up here shrieking about a dragon in the
basement?"
"There _is_ one, I tell you!" He started pacing. "I took a basket of
laundry down, and I noticed some peculiar sounds coming from under the stairs.