Mona Lisas, and the pirate named Ender Talon..

I had just been seated with my family at the theater in La Paz, Bolivia, for Don Quixote. My family and I were there to watch the opera, dance.

The play was going on well. I translated in my head what they were saying in Spanish to my contextual translation in English. When a very lovely lady showed up. She was much more distinguished than the main lady.

Her stance and her voice worked her small parts very well. And she danced between the scenes like some sort of spirit.

The whole play was going well. When? Well, that is where I say it happens. She looked back at the main lady character doing her part. Her look took me back to another realm of time. Meaning? I had seen fairies before. In Caracato, Bolivia. I thought she was a fairy at this point. Meaning her glance was that of desire or something to an extent. You had to look at her more to see what she was thinking.

Which was wild. I watched her, ignoring the main conversation in the play. Then it happened. Her eyes turned gold.

Now you say what? I sat in section 4, meaning 4 seats from the stage. So I saw her eyes go from normal dark eyes to shining gold eyes. I gasped. My wife hit me because you know me. My gasps are a bit more than normal. Then her eyelids closed like a lizard. And?

Well, she opened them again and eyelids from the sides closed too. Two pairs of eyelids.

At this point I said in English rather loudly, did you see that? To which my wife hit me again and shh me and told me to be quiet. Now this was a play, so I went and looked up the lady’s name.

She was from Spain. This was supposedly her decades-long trip to Bolivia. Meaning? She had been there for performances before and I recognized where I had seen her. The Nutcracker, however, was like three decades ago. And? From memory, she had not changed a bit. I was rather shocked, to be honest. 1997 versus 2016.

I spent decades in Bolivia and still have not mastered the language? Look, I am not even sure about the English language these days. For decades I could have sworn I spelt a dilemma with an n. Now spell check says dilemma. Same with werewolf and werewolf - the place of the wolf versus human wolf. But what do I know? I am just watching a play, right? Spanish to me is wonderful. However, people fail to correct my speaking and for decades without correction, I speak poorly.

Anyway, I was shh into quietness. Now the intermission occurred, and I went to the bathroom. Now the theater in Bolivia bathrooms are a toilet without seats. Meaning you squat. Which is fine if you do not have to get rid of a load. Me? I did not, so I went back towards my seat. Only to get lost in the hallways and ending up in some sort of dressing room area.

Did I do it on purpose? Hardly. Four rights, and a left to the bathroom. I do this because at times I get lost in reality. So? Well, one right, and four left should have gotten me to the auditorium and my seat, not some dark dressing room. Why could I get right and left? Simple, I travel time at times and end up in other realities. Anyway,

I bump into the Spanish lady. She looked at me and laughed. A nice laugh? Sort of. Anyway, she starts speaking. Her Spanish was either in my head or whatever she said was more clear than most people. Asking me where I was from and what I was doing?

I had to ask her a question in Dragonese before she realized I did not speak Spanish as well. Dragonese? Yes. It was a gift of sorts.

Anyway, she was startled. Like I was some knight or something going to kill her. I laughed and said to stay calm. I am not my great eighth grandfather. She looked like she was still going to fight me.

Now here is the thing. I look like one of those pirate care bears. Meaning? I have a missing foot and a left eye. I was with my cane at that time and my patch was one of those blue things that look like a fly’s eye.

She asked who I was and what I was doing there? I said I am me. A humble family man just trying to get back to his seat to watch a beautiful lady perform. This took her back a bit. After a few minutes of conversation. She gave me a card with her cell number and we planned on meeting at a cafe to discuss who and what was going on.

Don Quixote finished up. Me and the family went home. The next day I called the lady, and we agreed to meet at Alexanders, which is a local franchise cafe downtown.

I got there, and she was already sipping coffee. She asked if I wanted some. I ordered Mate tea. And? She introduced herself as an Asian dragon. Now why? My last name has several spellings and several meanings. Siegle or Sigurd or Siegfried or Siegel of Seagle tells the tale of the last European dragon. Whom had been slain by my great grandfather to the eighth. Anyway, she then talked about her long career as a dancer and art thief.

Art thief? Yes. I told her one of my tales and she told me one of her robbery tales. She was in France in the 1920s. Specifically for the Mona Lisa at the Louvre Museum. She went through the underground tunnels from a local cemetery right into the Museum. She then exchanged the Mona Lisa with a copy.

She went into some details. Why? My tale to her was something more personal. And if you got to know me. Well, you would understand.

After she finished her tale. I laughed. I asked specifically what date? She asked why? She laughed nervously, saying, why twice to clarify my laughter? I smiled. In 1919, the Russians had stolen the Mona Lisa and brought it to the Kremlin. In the 1770s, the English had also stolen the Mona Lisa. And? Well, I had heard in the 1600s that the Spanish had stolen it too. She seemed a bit upset with my knowledge of her most treasured treasure being a copy or a fake, or maybe the real thing. How did I know? 

She asked which did I believe was the real one? The first one I asked? She replied yes? I said the real one or oldest one was one in Switzerland. This made her think a bit. And asked me if I would accompany her on a trip to visit said paintings?

I had been planning on a vacation away from family that year and agreed if she provided the tickets to each place. She agreed and the next day I left on a whirlwind three week holiday to Europe.

Our stop in England is where she takes control of the story. You see, I am a reader. And stealing paintings is not really my style. However, I know a few people well. We went to see the English Mona Lisa. For this story, I will use Ms. Dragon as her name. You see, for her real name is still out there and she is still a professional ballerina and play actor after.

She asked me how to get a copy of the painting. Nowadays, in 2022, there are machines that can take and paint a complete painting dot by dot. In 2016? I knew a Doctor Mose Noah, who could do similar work. I introduced Ms. Dragon, and she paid him some money for a copy of the Tory Mona Lisa.

The amount who knows. I do not like money. I like paintings. However, a day after arriving, she had a copy of the painting to which we went and visited. Now I was just expecting to see it. Not steal it. Ms. Dragon did not get me involved in illegal activities. However, while there, she walked in with a rather large briefcase.

We stared at the Mona Lisa for a while and went into the next hall to see some country scenery when the fire alarm went off. The guards rushed in and I walked out without Ms. Dragon. A half an hour later we met up, and she was all smiles. Why? Who knows? But her briefcase was a different size, is all I can say.

We flew to Spain. There Ms. Dragon asked if I knew anyone again that could forge a look alike of the Mona Lisa within that museum? But of course I knew someone. Jose Diaz Rosales, I knew from a prior work experience dealing with a computer simulator for NATO. Nice man. Anyway, I introduced Ms. Dragon to him at a cafe in Madrid. What they talked about, I have no idea. All I can say was the word deal happened and the next day. Ms. Dragon again had another copy of Mona Lisa, similar to the one in the Spanish museum.

We went in. This time, Ms. Dragon wore a large coat. Whatever she has or had inside it, I do not know. We both looked at the painting. The security was interesting with lights and sensors, etc. How do I know? They went off while we were standing in front of it. The guards had me on the ground and pointed a gun at Ms. Dragon, who was exclaiming all the time we were just looking.

Anyway, after viewing the security tape, I was let go. And? Ms. Dragon was happy. It seemed she had gotten what she wanted.

Notice my reactions to each of these events. Sure, I knew she was going to steal the paintings. Yes. That is part of knowing who you are with. However, I was alone and curious to see how she got away with it. Why? If you have not guessed, most of the paintings were owned by lords, ladies, dragons, or fairies. So in reality, they are stealing from each other outside the insurance fraud. I did not care.

Anyway, Madrid, England, from there we went to Switzerland. Now that place was a bit more of an easy walk in the park. The security was lax.

However, instead of leaving a copy there, like Ms. Dragon had been done in the prior two museums. She just walked in and stole the painting while I watched in awe. And walked right out with it like she owned it.

That night, Ms. Dragon invited me into her hotel room. There were three Mona Lisa from the three locations we had visited all lined up.

In every person’s life, one has to reflect on reality, I suppose. Ms. Dragon was testing me to see if I would freak out or confess to knowing what she was doing or flack out.

None of which happened. I smiled. I did not even look them over. You see, I had been here before. Meaning? Every man should have his own Mona Lisa in his bathroom. I have one, don’t you? Meaning I too had at one point in time done similar work. And did not want her to know all she had done was steal my older copies. I had replaced the originals back in the 1970s. How else do you think I knew of each of their locations and people who would forge them?

She asked what I thought of her collection. I smiled and said it seemed like mine once upon a time. She laughed. Either she did not get the joke or she did. I am not sure at that time.

Her final goal was Mona Lisa in Saint Petersburg. Now this one, there were two. A smaller version of Mona Lisa and a similar sized one. Both of which had been stolen from the museums and were now in private hands of some rather well off Russians.

Ms. Dragon asked if I knew who or which billionaire had the real Mona Lisa? I smiled. I knew the Machine or a comic. And he knew the right person to ask in the mob.

A few phone calls later. Some guy named Michael Litvinenko popped up as the latest person to own a Russian Mona Lisa. To even get near him. We had to get invited.

Ms. Dragon is a famous ballerina and is known in Russia for helping. A few weeks before Ms. Litvinenko’s death. He had a rather large birthday party. In which he invited Ms. Dragon to his home along with a couple hundred other people.

How she got through his security and into his vault seemed almost like a Netflix movie, to be honest. She did it. And got away with it. While Mr. Litvinenko knew something was wrong with his painting later that month, I heard. He never got a chance to look into it more due to his death.

While Ms. Dragon stole Ms. Litvinenko's painting using her dance tricks and dragon magic. I waited for her back in her room with the other three paintings. She got there around midnight on the eleventh day of my two-week vacation.

Ms. Dragon was extracted to have all four Mona Lisa. Seemingly, a dragon hoard of paintings was what she wanted. And she got it.

We went to dinner. That is when a little magic happened. When we got back, all four paintings were missing. Gone poof. Like they never existed.

That they were just copies of copies of the originals did not matter. This was a mystery. Who else knew what was going on?

Ms. Dragon flew into a rage. Took it out on the furniture. Breaking a few things.

I just sat down and laughed. Saying she now has someone else to hunt down for her treasure. Ms. Dragon resolved to get them back. Stormed out of the hotel in Russia. 

That is where this story gets interesting. So I described her eyes changing when I first met Ms. Dragon? Well, during her rage,her hands became like claws. Everywhere she touched had holes put in it like her fingers were claws. Her hair at this point seemed more like a lizard main. Her nose flared like that of those seen in dragon movies. Then she started to sniff.  

Pixies. Was all I heard. I had met fairies, time travelers, and a few dragons before. But never had I met or even knew what a pixie is. At this point I had to ask what is the difference between pixies and fairies.  Ms. Dragon looked at me, said skin color, flight, and, most importantly, impishness. 

Thus, with that, she left the room to hunt pixies. Now, me? I was in the room. Had a few bottles of wine to celebrate, only to find out that the pixies or someone else had taken the liberty and drank them all.

I then heard a commotion outside in the hall. Ms. Dragon was destroying a hotel door.  The people inside were a bit peeved or scared, their screaming sounding a mixture of leave us alone or we will call the police only in Russian, Spanish, and every so often I heard a few French words thrown in.

Ms. Dragon, after battering the door down with her bare hands, was confronted with three fairies or pixies. I could not tell the difference until I realized two of them had wings out and the third looked like he had just been sunburned to a crisp orange color.

Where are they?  And forgive me, my translations. One said where is what? I think in French. Are they left or gone? In Russian. While the third person was drunk off her ass laughing at the other two saying see see I told you it was a dragon’s hoard. But no. You had to steal it anyway.. The language was like a rhyme or musical only in my mind. If I knew what language it sounded like? I would have to guess something like a mixture of Spanish and something else?

Before any of the three could get out of Ms. Dragon, arms reached out and she had two of them. How? I doubt I can explain it in words. Even seeing the reach. She seemed to grow like a house for a moment, meaning you saw dragons as big as a house? Well, for a moment, I assure you she was as big as the whole room.

Anyway, the girl was now screaming to let me go. The orange guy was all angry at being caught while the other one flew out the window without looking back.

Ms. Dragon warned the girl pixie if she tried to fly anymore, she would rip off her wings. The orange guy just bites Ms. Dragon. Wild. I know. I think he was expecting his bite to do something. It went right through her clothing, but. Then you ever heard a tooth being crushed or biting into something and breaking? That was what happened.

He just screamed. And screamed. Me? I was sort of just in awe of all this. I asked Ms. Dragon how she had found the thieves so quickly? She sniffed and said. Her hoard had her scent, and that they were lying. At least one of the paintings was in the room. So I searched and found Madrid, Switzerland and England’s Mona Lisa hidden in a vault-like room off the main bathroom.

Where is the other one?  The winged pixie had lost all hope. You could tell she thought she was going to lose her wings, so she started speaking. However, my translation skills are bad. And the speed at which they spoke was even worse than. Wait. What is that word? Then I figured out the context.

The short of the story? Evidently, the billionaire Russian had purchased a magical insurance policy against his Mona Lisa. In case it was ever stolen, the insurance company would have to pay him back or get the painting back.

Ms. Dragon laughed. So a magical insurance policy on Mona Lisa?  The orange pixie was crying now. Evidently biting into dragon scales, he had lost a few teeth. Now you would think all the nose the hotel would have sent someone up to investigate. 

But no. Magic was in use or something canceling all the noises out. Ms. Dragon then used a sleep potion, putting both the pixies asleep.

We took the three paintings back and left for the airport.  Ms. Dragon expressed a desire to get the fourth painting back. But only said maybe next time. With that, we left Russia without the Mona Lisa of Russia, but we still had Madrid, England and Switzerland paintings. Or Italy?

My favorite one is the one I got.  I keep it in my bathroom and I live like the King of France.