Real Dragons

by Rebecca Shelley

  Stevens claimed that the jewels had been taken out of a safe in his penthouse, but could produce no proof that the penthouse with its state-of-the-art security systems had been broken into. He had filed no claims with the police department until after seeing the brooches up for sale.

  Weldon bit his lip and stared in awe at the picture of the luxurious penthouse decorated all in silver. It had a private elevator, security cameras everywhere, and a thumbprint lock on the door. The penthouse took up three full floors at the top of a skyscraper called the Stevens Tower.

  Mr. Stevens showed the news reporters the safe built into a room at the center of the penthouse. "I kept the jewels right here," he said. "I don't know how the thieves could possibly have taken them. I didn't know they were gone until I saw them on the news."

  Stevens was a thin man, dressed in a smart gray suit. He had gray hair. Even his eyes were gray.

  "Do you have any family who might have removed them without your knowledge or permission?" the reporter asked.

  "No," Stevens said. "My wife passed away last summer and my son is off at a boarding school. I know it sounds like I'm making this up, but I assure you I'm not. I have documents to prove the jewels belong to me and have turned those over to the police. I expect the brooches to be back in my possession soon."

  "What about the diamond wristband?" the reporter asked.

  Mr. Stevens grimaced. "I'm hoping it will surface. It's worth more than both the other two pieces put together."

  The reporter wrapped up the interview and turned things back over to the anchor. Weldon shut off the TV and paced the floor. He wondered if he should call Mr. Stevens and tell him where the stolen bracelet was. It seemed like the right thing to do. But that would get Tom in a whole heap of trouble, and Weldon didn't want that. Besides, how would he get such a rich man's number? And who would believe Weldon enough to even let him talk to Mr. Stevens. Stevens probably had secretaries who had secretaries, none of which were likely to listen to the word of a little boy.

  Then again, Tom was already in trouble. People wanted to kill him to get the bracelet. He'd be safer with the police than on the streets alone.

  Weldon stopped pacing and bit his lip. The chauffeur had told the three thugs that the police had given him the information about where Tom was staying. The police shouldn't be giving out that kind of private information. Especially about someone who had already been assaulted once. Maybe the police were in on the attempted murder. That diamond dragon was worth enough a whole police unit could retire after selling it and live in luxury for the rest of their lives.

  Weldon couldn't go to the police. He wondered if Tom had returned to the hideout. He worried that the muggers had found Tom when he'd come out to go to the bathroom. They might have already killed him and taken the bracelet. Weldon felt awful, but he couldn't leave Phillis again. The soonest he'd be able to get away was in the morning, assuming Phillis didn't get him grounded.

  "Phillis, you can have the TV," he called on his way over to the kitchen to start dinner.

  Tom wandered the library. He kept his eyes open for the muggers, feeling nervous and exposed, but he couldn't stand to spend any more time than necessary in that horrible, dark, dirty room at the side of the building. It looked like it had not been used by the library staff for years.

  He kept to the back edges of the library out of sight as much as possible. The librarian at the front desk had stared hard at him when he walked in. He figured he must look horrible with his swollen cheek and black eyes. He kept himself hidden away and hoped nobody else would notice his face.

  The sky outside the window was growing dark when the librarian who had watched him come in cornered him back by the foreign language books. "The library's closing," she said in the kind of soft voice required for a library.

  "Oh." Tom moved away.

  "You got someplace to go?" The librarian asked. She had frizzy hair and silver-rimmed glasses.

  "Of course," Tom said.

  "You didn't go to school today." The librarian followed him to the front of the building.

  Tom shrugged and took refuge in the boy's bathroom. Knowing he didn't have long before they locked the doors, he washed himself up the best he could. He wished for a shower and clean clothes and wondered if he'd ever get such luxuries again.

  When he left the bathroom, the librarian was busy helping a line of people check out. He went to the glass doors at the front and scanned the street for the muggers before going outside. Not seeing any sign of them, he pushed through the doors and hurried down the steps. He hated to lock himself back in the shed, but he had nowhere else to go.

  He turned on the lamp then closed the door behind him and chained it shut. When he lifted the lamp to put it on the shelf, he saw the food and water waiting for him. Weldon had been there. Tom opened a bottled water and took a swallow of the warm liquid. He felt bad that he'd missed Weldon and hoped Weldon wasn't worried.

  He picked up an apple and wiped it off on his shirt, hoping it wasn't covered with any nasty bacteria that would make him sick. It was nice of Weldon to bring him food. He'd been hungry all day, and his ribs were throbbing.

  He bit into the apple. It tasted like the sweetest food he'd ever eaten, not that he could remember eating anything except the bland things Alice had given him. He finished off the apple and grabbed a couple of slices from a smashed loaf of wheat bread.

  "Some dinner," he thought, but it filled the ache in his stomach. He was grateful for that.

  Before lying down on the cot, he shook out the blanket and pillow. Then turned the cot over on its side and beat all the dust out of it, and—he hoped—any crawling critter that had made its home there.

  After lying down he stared up at the crumbling plaster on the ceiling. Again, for the hundredth time that day, he poked around in all the corners of his mind looking for answers.

  He had to have had parents. There was no way he had just sprung into existence the day before yesterday. And no chance in a million that he was a fairy from the Realm Below. But he could see no faces in his mind. Hear no voices. He found no memory of scent or touch. As before, only an endless silver shroud covered his mind.

  Lucky for Weldon, Phillis had forgotten all about the argument over the TV by the time Mama got home. Papa came in late, but he didn't tell Mama anything about the break-in at Alice's apartment. He just ate some food and went to bed, looking old and tired.

  Weldon finished all his homework in record time that evening. He wanted nothing to stand in his way of going out in the morning. He had to find Tom and tell him about Mr. Stevens.

  He got up early, dressed, and asked his father if he could go out and play. His father was in the middle of eating toast and juice for breakfast before going off to work. Mama wandered into the bathroom to take a shower. Fortunately she didn't have to work on the weekends. It was the only time Weldon had to enjoy himself away from the family.

  "I don't know, Weldon," his father said, putting his toast down.

  "Oh please," Weldon said. "It Saturday morning. Look out the window. All the kids are playing outside."

  His father frowned. "Tom be missing. Alice said he runned away before them thugs broke into the house. She thinks they looking for him."

  "Tom gone?" Weldon tried to sound surprised.

  "I'm a worried about him," Weldon's father said. "And I'm a worried about you. What if them men find out you knows him?"

  "Why should that make a difference?" Weldon's palms broke out in a sweat. He had to get out of the house.

  "I don't know. I just wish the police would track them guys down." His father gulped the last of his orange juice and got up to leave. "I think you best stay inside, Weldon. There will be other days to play with your friends."

  Weldon waited until his father was all the way down the stairs before getting the pencil out of the protective custody of his Mama's purse and scribbling a note on the back of a flyer from school.

  Gone to play with Quincy. Be back
for lunch.

  Mama was still in the shower and hadn't heard his father tell him he couldn't go out. Phillis was still in bed. This was the only chance Weldon might get to escape.

  Weldon slipped out the door and eased down the stairs. Making sure his father was nowhere in sight, he headed to the library. He crossed the street and stopped. Two men, a big one with an eagle shaved on the side of his head, and a smaller one with a gold earring, stood on the sidewalk in front of the library. Their eyes locked on Weldon.

  Weldon turned around and took a step back the way he'd come, hoping they hadn't found Tom. Weldon couldn't go to the hiding place with the muggers so close.

  "Good morning." The third mugger stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Weldon. Weldon tried to go around him, but the man grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and dragged him into the alley. "We looking for a kid named Tom. Someone say they seen you with him yesterday morning. Do you know where he at?"

  "No." Weldon's arm felt like fire. "I know all the boys on the block and ain't none of them named Tom."

  "Word is he in the library yesterday. And someone else told me you got a hangout round here. Where?" The mugger tightened his hold on Weldon's arm, making him yelp.

  "I ain't got no hangout, and I don't know no Tom."

  The mugger smashed Weldon up against the brick wall. The other two took up position to the entrance of the alley, blocking anyone's view from the street.

  "You seen what we did to Tom's face. We gonna do the same to you and worse if you don't start talking now."

  Weldon went numb inside. These guys would beat him up and kill him. He knew that. The only chance he might have of getting out of this alive was to show them where Tom was. Only a few yards away, hiding behind the door. Yet the fear and pain drained right out of him, leaving nothing but emptiness.

  "Don't matter none what you do to me. I ain't never heard of this kid, Tom. You after money? I got four bucks and fifty cents in my pocket. That all. I had five a bit ago, but I had to buy bubble gum." He wouldn't mention it was for Phillis. Better that they never knew he had a sister.

  "Liar." The mugger slammed him against the wall again, cracking his forehead against the brick. Sparks shot across his vision.

  A chain rattled down the alley, and the hideout door creaked open. Weldon shook away the spots in front of his eyes and saw Tom step out.

  "Let him go," Tom said, his voice low and calm. "He doesn't have what you want. I do." He lifted his arm so the diamond dragon flashed on his wrist. "I'll give it to you without a fight if you let him go."

  "Not a chance," the big mugger said, moving down the alley toward Tom. "We taking you both somewheres nice and quiet. Then we'll see about getting that pretty bauble off your wrist."

  "You'll have to catch me first." Tom bolted forward. He lowered his head and slammed like a bull into the man holding Weldon. The man took the blow right in the gut and stumbled away from Weldon.

  Suddenly free, Weldon grabbed Tom's arm and headed back down the alley away from the muggers.

  The big one laughed. "It a dead end boys. No way out."

  Weldon ignored them. He knew there was a brick wall ahead. He also knew something else. He and Tom reached the brick wall. "Follow me," Weldon said. He moved to the side of the library and jumped, catching hold of a fire escape that hung down from a window on the library's next floor. He pulled himself up onto the steps. Tom followed.

  The muggers yelled and came barreling down the alley.

  Weldon pulled up the extended fire escape, so the muggers couldn't reach it. Then he started up the stairs to the higher landing. From there another set of stairs led down on the far side of the wall. In a moment the two of them were beyond the barrier and running again.

  Tom couldn't believe Weldon had been willing to let the muggers kill him rather than tell them where Tom was hiding. That was just crazy. Listening behind the door, he'd been shocked and knew he couldn't let Weldon get hurt because of him. He hadn't expected to survive and get away. All he'd planned to do was give Weldon a chance to escape.

  Now they both ran out the other end of the alley into the street. Weldon went straight across, right between the cars that were stopped for a traffic light. Tom followed, gasping for breath. Apparently he wasn't used to running so hard, though no memories came to confirm what his body was telling him.

  Blood trickled from a cut on Weldon's forehead where the mugger had slammed him against the bricks. That makes two of us with a big fat headache, Tom thought.

  He sucked polluted air into his lungs, making them burn, and kept running. He was hard pressed to keep up with Weldon. "Where are we going?" he asked as they turned down another street.

  Without answering Weldon led Tom down a flight of stairs into the subway station. He stuffed some money in a machine and got two tickets and a map. Then led Tom through the turnstile. Tom glanced behind them back up the stairs but didn't see their pursuers in the dozens of people moving up or down.

  Weldon tapped the map against his palm as they waited on the platform. He glanced around at the gathering crowd. "Train gonna be here soon," he said. "Hey, put the bandage back over that dragon."

  Tom had forgotten he'd unwrapped the dragon to get the thugs attention. He tore off a piece of the gauze and handed it to Weldon then wrapped the rest back over the wristband.

  Weldon pressed the piece of gauze against his forehead until the bleeding stopped. Tom didn't think the injury looked too bad, but the sight of the blood had churned his stomach. The blowers meant to cool the station did little more than spread the smell of urine and body odor around the crowd that pressed in on him, which only made his nausea worse. He grew nervous in the mass of people.

  "I don't think this is such a good idea," he told Weldon.

  "We need time to figure out what we gonna do," Weldon said. "They can't kill us so easy right here in front of all these people. If we try hiding in some alley again, they gonna get us for sure."

  The buzz of voices swelled around them. Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to take calm even breaths.

  The train rattled up and stopped with a faint squeal. The doors opened and more people poured out onto the platform. Weldon grabbed Tom's arm and maneuvered him through the crowd to the front car and dragged him on. They'd been swift enough to get a pair of seats together. The car filled up around them. A chime sounded and the doors closed.

  "All right," Weldon said. "We done bought us a few minutes. Even if they saw us come down here, they won't have no way of knowing where we get off."

  "They'll wait for you to go back home and me to return to Mrs. Walkers. What else can two boys our age do? We can't stay on the subway forever. Your parents will probably go nuts looking for you." Tom leaned against the back of the seat and tried not to smell the man next to him who reeked of rotting sea food. Across from them a baby on a mother's lap started to cry.

  "You be right. We can't go back. We need to go downtown. I saw someone on the news that we got to find and talk to." Weldon unfolded the map and stared at it, biting his lip. "There a man named Mr. Stevens who claims the brooches and the diamond dragon were stolen from him."

  "No." Tom's splitting headache doubled. "We can't go to him. They'll arrest me."

  "We don't tell him you ever had them brooches. We tell him you found the diamond dragon and thought it just had fake diamonds until you saw him on TV. That wristband worth millions of dollars. He gonna be happy you returned it to him. As long as we with Mr. Stevens, we be safe. Them low-life thugs won't be able to get close to him." Weldon traced his finger along the map, planning a route that would take them into the wealthy part of the city.

  "What makes you think we'll be able to get anywhere near him?" Weldon's plan terrified Tom.

  "You got a better plan?" Weldon said.

  Tom shook his head. He couldn't even remember his own name, how could he come up with a plan. The subway rushed on, carrying them into a whole different part of the city and way of lif
e.

  Weldon stared at the subway map on his lap. The blank edges of the paper taunted him. If only he had a pencil. He looked around the car. The fishy-smelling man slumped in his seat doing a crossword puzzle. The baby on the woman's lap continued to cry. Every seat was full, a trainload of people hurtling through an underground labyrinth.

  Weldon considered asking to borrow the fish guy's pencil, then he noticed the inner core of a broken pen on the floor next to the seat. He reached down and grabbed it, careful not to touch the sticky slick of spilled soda beside it.

  While Tom stared out the window at the subway walls flashing past, Weldon touched the tip of the pen to the paper. The dragoness had come up through the crack into his world and then vanished. How could he draw her here? What good would a microscopic dragon do? Barthelme could not return to his friend, Haley, as long as Tom sat on the seat beside Weldon.

  For the first time in his life Weldon found himself unable to draw. The pictures were lost. The story confused. Tom was right, he should have had an outline, but how could he have predicted being attacked and almost killed? How could he have known old Alice would be hurt? How could he have imagined some rich man named Wallace Stevens?

  Desperately he sketched out Haley sitting alone by the silver lake, his chin in his hands. Haley sighed and looked up at the crack from time to time. His wings fluttered then sagged. Silver dust settled to the ground beneath them. The grass, the lake, the whole Realm Below faded away, leaving Haley a lone figure at the edge of the subway map.

  The subway stopped at the place Weldon knew he had to get off. He almost didn't have the courage to do it. He lurched to his feet at the last second and dragged Tom off with him. They climbed the steps, looking around in hopes that the three muggers hadn't followed them. A swarm of men and women in expensive suits filled the street. Sunlight flashed from the windows of skyscrapers. Heavy traffic flowed past. Fancy cars. Fancy clothes. Fancy people.