One can feel the hot breath. It’s on the wind, blowing in off the sea, rustling the dry leaves, agitating the palm trees, electrifying the squirrel’s tail. Hurricanes and fires, guns and rattling sabers, marching boots, hate and confederate flags, sexual predators, fools and, of course, lest we forget, the ever growing threat of The Big One.
So the Santa Anas usher them all in, swirling around us as a dragon’s breath, whispering a warning, a black flag warning, of chill and danger and a reminder to stock up on flashlight batteries. We will need that light in the dark.
I want to laugh and skip and hold on to childish glee, happy in my Topanga, surrounded by smiling, round pumpkins and the promise of a cornucopia of bounty coming our way, but the cupboard looks a little bare and the fridge is on the fritz.
We are in Target and as I wander through cosmetics, I’m contemplating coming calamity and how one cannot possibly face the end of days without lipstick.
Passing by the home décor section, I must admit I am attracted to the decorative fluffy pillows, golden dishes and a fanciful fabric unicorn head to mount on the wall, but I hear myself mutter from my doldrum depths, “Things, they’re just things. They can’t bring true happiness, cure cancer or feed the hungry. They can’t hold back the tide.” Obviously, I have been watching too much news.
We are shopping for a vacuum cleaner as a present for my sister-in-law. Frankly it’s not a very exciting purchase to make, unlike fuzzy slippers, a lava lamp or mermaid tail, but choosing a unit we hope she will like, we load the large box into the cart and along with a few other items proceed to the check-out line. Suddenly my heart is lightened. A young man is working the register. He appears to me as a youthful, blond elf prince or angel. Who better to fight dragons?
I ask him, “Have you decided what you are going to be for Halloween?”
He replies, “Maybe a guy who works at Target.”
Although I actually consider his answer an amusing concept, I can’t help but suggest he go as a unicorn. I refrain from adding, “Because you are pure of heart,” lest he realize what a mad woman I am. I do, however, share with him that our children are away at college and law school and that we are lonely and I would like to take him home. He smiles a little and I see he has those invisible braces, which makes him all the more endearing. We pay and exit into the hideous valley heat, returned to the flat, real world of poorly designed parking lots and impatient drivers as a cruel wind blows through my graying hair. In the car the Beleaguered Husband and I suddenly realize something. We didn’t pay for the vacuum. The young prince never charged us for it, as it remained in the cart and he only rang up what was on the counter. I was so distracted by him that I never even noticed that the small amount of cash he asked me for was vastly below what the cost should have been.
“Wow, we just got a free vacuum,” I state but it rings flat and empty, a pyrrhic victory, nothing here to celebrate.
“What should we do?” questions my husband, although he already knows the answer.
“Step on the gas!” I long to say but respond with more sober advice, “Let’s get something to eat and then take the thing back in and pay for it.”
Unfortunately, upon our return the lines are long and the unicorn is nowhere to be seen. I rather wanted him to know that we were of his tribe and doing the right thing but someone else stands at his post or maybe he was never there at all. We’re allowed to pay at customer service where there is no line, which is the only concession granted our good citizenry.
So, I now have a clear conscience and lipstick to face the coming of the dragons. But is that enough? The fire breath grows hotter and I wonder about the dragons of myth and story and how they were dealt with. I know many were slain by brave heroes—from the legend of St. George to Bard shooting Smaug with an arrow in the Hobbit—but I can’t help but feel sorry for slain dragons. I would rather befriend them, tame them, ride them through the gloaming, like dear Falcor in, The Neverending Story.
At home, just out of curiosity, I Google, “What should you do if you get an item you weren’t charged for?”
A site called, Babycenter Community, which seems to be a collection of new mothers, reported its findings from a polling of the question. From 96 votes, 32 would return and pay, 49 would consider themselves lucky and keep the item, and 15 voted for other (whatever that is…note of apology, partial anonymous payment, community service?). Of course, harried moms might not be the best candidates for hauling a young child and item back into a store to stand in line again to pay and I, for one, release all mothers from such a laborious task.
Another site, Professor Pigginton’s, out of San Diego, found that out of 70 votes 27 wouldn’t bother returning to pay, 37 would go back and six voted to return to the same negligent cashier hoping to get more free stuff.
Some of the comments pointed out that it is actually stealing to keep something not paid for and many considered the price of the errant item as the deciding factor. An evasive bottle of Mountain Dew becomes a gift. I am of the mindset that a small, inexpensive oversight is not worth the effort of return. Then there was one comment posted that read only, “Karma.”
And that is just why we returned and paid for the vacuum. I know from time to time I’ve been overcharged and sometimes undercharged and hopefully it all evens out, but in this time of dragons one must walk a straight path, even in high heels. The only way to tame a dragon is with a brave spirit, clear eye and open heart.
The wind blows a dry dust through the Canyon air. The wind chimes clang and tree branches sway. Small fires break out and are extinguished, for now. From anywhere at anytime an assault may come, the earth may shake, the missile launch, the rock fall, the child cry, the bobcat hit, the black cloud come.
We can but try to stand in grace with shaking hands outstretched and beseech the dragons not to strike, but to fly over our village, which is the Earth, or to land lightly on our fragile planet with peace and friendship and oh, so gentle breath.
