The Dragonsitter's Party
Page 3
The only problem was Dad said the dragons had to stay in the hotel without us.
I said that was very unfair, but Dad said he wanted to spend some quality time with his children, not a pair of fire-breathing lizards. He said we could take them to a park later if they needed to stretch their wings.
He absolutely, definitely, no-question-about-it refused to change his mind.
So I hid Arthur in my backpack.
I knew I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I told him to be quiet in there. He was, on the subway. Very. And he carried on being quiet in the café where we stopped for a morning snack. I dropped some croissant through the top of the backpack, which seemed to keep him happy.
He even stayed quiet in the museum. He didn’t make a squeak while we looked at the birds and the bears and the earthworms and the giraffe and the rhino and the dodo and the dolphin and the blue whale.
But when we got to the T. rex, he wriggled out of my backpack and flew off to have a look. Maybe he thought it was a long-lost cousin.
He flew the entire length of the T. rex from tail to head and landed on its nostrils. People were pointing and shouting and taking pictures.
Dad asked, “Where did that come from?”
I pretended I didn’t know.
Guards came running. One of them said, “You’re not allowed to have flying toys inside the museum.”
I explained, “He’s not a toy, he’s a dragon.”
The guard said he didn’t care what it was, I just had to get it out of here right now, this minute, before he called the police and had us all thrown out for making a public nuisance of ourselves.
I said I would if I could catch him.
The guard got on his walkie-talkie and called for reinforcements.
Unfortunately, catching Arthur was easier said than done. He jumped off the T. rex and whooshed over our heads, waggling his wings.
I ran after him. So did Dad and Emily and lots of guards.
Arthur was faster than any of us. He flew along the corridors, looped the loop around some statues, dive-bombed a crowd of Japanese tourists, and disappeared through the revolving doors. By the time we got outside, he had vanished.
We searched for hours, but we couldn’t find him anywhere.
I wanted to keep on looking all night, but Dad said we’d just be wasting our time. So we came back to the hotel.
Ziggy was fast asleep. She still is. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her when she wakes up.
Dad says if I was so concerned about the dragons, I shouldn’t have hidden Arthur in my backpack in the first place. I suppose he’s right.
I’m really sorry, Uncle Morton.
This whole thing is my fault, and I wish I knew how to make it better.
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Sunday, April 16
Subject: More bad news
Attachments: Into the night
Dear Uncle Morton,
I’m very sorry, but I’ve got some more bad news.
I’ve lost your other dragon, too.
Emily and I were brushing our teeth in the bathroom when we heard a terrible racket coming from the bedroom.
We rushed out of the bathroom and found Ziggy going wild. She was trying to break through the windows and get onto the balcony. She must have realized Arthur had gone missing.
Dad was standing on his bed, holding a pillow. He yelled at me to do something.
I didn’t want to let her out, but there really wasn’t any choice. One more minute and she would have smashed the whole place to pieces.
So I opened the door.
Ziggy charged onto the balcony, flapped her wings, and took off.
A moment later, she’d disappeared into the night.
I feel awful. I can’t believe I’ve lost both your dragons. I wish I knew how to find them.
Do you have any brilliant ideas?
Dad says there’s no point in writing to you because you won’t be checking your e-mails in Tibet, but I hope you get this message.
Please write back if you do.
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Monday, April 17
Subject: 8,000,000
Attachments: Londoners
Dear Uncle Morton,
Your dragons are still missing.
We spent the whole day walking around London, but we didn’t see any sign of them.
This city is so big!
Dad says eight million people live here. I think we met most of them.
I asked everyone if they’d seen a missing dragon. Some of them laughed. Others just walked past as if they couldn’t even hear me.
People who live in London are quite rude. Dad says it’s the same in all big cities. Emily wanted to know if Paris is like this, too, and Dad said it’s even worse.
I hope Mom and Gordon are having more fun than us.
Love,
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Tuesday, April 18
Subject: Still missing
Dear Uncle Morton,
We spent today searching for your dragons again, but we still haven’t found them.
Dad says not to worry—they’ll come back on their own good time.
He says this is our one chance to spend a few days in London and we should be making the most of it, missing dragons or no missing dragons.
But I don’t want to make the most of it. I just want to find Ziggy and Arthur.
Eddie
From: Morton Pickle
To: Edward Smith-Pickle
Date: Tuesday, April 18
Subject: Re: Still missing
Dear Eddie,
I have just seen your messages. The Internet is a rare treat here in Tibet, but I managed to check my e-mails on a sherpa’s phone.
Thank you for letting me know about the dragons.
You need not worry about Ziggy. She will be perfectly safe. Dragons are wise creatures, and she is even more sensible than most. She also has strong wings and powerful claws. I can’t imagine anyone or anything in London will be a threat to her.
However, Arthur is quite different, and I am very concerned for his safety. A small dragon is not safe alone in a big city. He might have been run over or kidnapped or suffered some even more horrible fate.
I suggest you call the police and ask for their help.
I do hope you find them both soon, so you can enjoy your vacation in London. I have fond memories of the years I spent in that vast gray town. Few places could be more different than my current location: a cold, snow-covered mountainside in a remote region of Tibet.
We have had no confirmed sightings of the yeti, but I have arranged a meeting with a local shaman tomorrow, and I am hoping he will bring good news.
With love from your affectionate uncle,
Morton
About the Author and Illustrator
JOSH LACEY is the author of many books for children, including The Island of Thieves, Bearkeeper, and the Grk series. He worked as a journalist, a teacher, and a screenwriter before writing his first book, A Dog Called Grk. Josh lives in London with his wife and daughters.
GARRY PARSONS has illustrated several books for children and is the author and illustrator of Krong!, winner of the Perth and Kinross Picture Book Award. Garry lives in London.