The Boy Who Grew Dragons

by Andy Shepherd

  It didn’t.

  I searched around the plants and beanstalks, stepping among broken pots and bits of polytunnel. If dragons really had demolished Grim’s garden, then where were they now?

  In the end that question only bothered me for about twenty seconds because of the low-flying cucumber. As I said earlier, cucumbers and dragons are not the same at all. And one thing a cucumber definitely can’t do is fly. Or so I thought. Except this one plummeted from the sky, almost knocking me out.

  I looked up just in time to see two shapes spiralling upwards over Grim’s greenhouse. One of them was clutching what I guessed was a bunch of carrots. Glittering sparks lit up the sky and fizzled out around them. Dragons!

  Flicker spotted them and, leaving the half-chewed plant, he flew up into the air. In his excitement, his whole body pulsed with ever-changing colours and the sparks that shot out crackled around me. He rose higher and higher, and for a heart-stopping moment I thought he would follow the others, but a little way above the treetops he turned, and flickering orange and gold he came back to me. He settled on my shoulder and wrapped his tail around my neck and it felt like a buzz of electricity against my skin. We stayed there watching, until the two dragons were tiny specks and then disappeared altogether.

  I was right! There were more dragons. But it was clear that after some initial damage they weren’t staying long in the garden. Or even nearby. Not given the general absence of fires and chaos in the village.

  But where did they go? Where exactly did dragons live?

  Unfortunately it turned out that was a question that was going to bother me for a lot longer than twenty seconds, and no cucumber was going to drop the answer on my head either.

  I kept looking, wondering if there were any more dragons hiding in Grim’s garden. I tried to remember how many empty dragon-fruit skins I’d seen. I needed to check if there were other dragons who hadn’t yet flown away. Maybe I could coax them into Grandad’s garden and prevent any more damage being done to Grim’s vegetables.

  I made my way over to his shed. Some material covering the window meant I couldn’t see in, but I stared through the glass of the greenhouse at the tidy rows of pots, each one with a tiny shoot peeking out. They certainly interested Flicker, who flew straight into the glass several times, before giving up and landing in a disgruntled and slightly dazed heap on a nearby branch. They were probably Grim’s pride and joy, so it was just as well the dragons hadn’t managed to get in there.

  And then a dreadful voice growled from the shadows: ‘Oi! Get your snotty nose off my glass, you vandal!’

  No prizes for guessing who that was.

  I turned and saw Grim storming down the garden towards me, his black coat billowing out behind him.

  I had to admit this didn’t look good. Not good at all. Me tramping through his wrecked veggie patch to stand with my nose pressed up to his greenhouse. And I knew it, so the guilty look on my face can’t have helped.

  ‘Just look at my plot!’ Grim snarled. ‘I knew you were trouble, soon as I clapped eyes on you.’ He looked around at the devastation. ‘My poor onions and aubergines,’ he moaned.

  Excuses tumbled into my head. Any one of them would have done, but in my panic they all got mixed up so I ended up blurting out, ‘I saw a … fox. A fox … fly into your greenhouse with my football so I chased it away for you.’

  Grim glared at me, his face turning beetroot red.

  Suddenly something flew through the air and landed at Grim’s feet. We both stared at it, too surprised by the aerial attack to move. And no, it wasn’t a dragon. It was worse. Much worse. Seconds later the smell hit us, as the air filled with the toxic reek of rotten egg.

  Stink bomb!

  I ran, as more stink bombs soared around me and an angry Grim spluttered through the foul stink.

  ‘What are you playing at? You stay away, d’ya hear? I’ll be watching you!’

  As I jumped the little fence I remembered the feeling of being watched and the noise of the hedge – it hadn’t been the breeze. Or my imagination. I knew exactly what had caused it and who had thrown those stink bombs. Someone who had got stink bombs for Christmas. And it meant Grim wasn’t the only one watching me.

  ‘Stinker by name, stinker by nature,’ I muttered as I ducked down behind the dragon-fruit tree. I waited till I was sure Grim had stomped off back to his house. There was no sound or sign of Liam either. But the faint smell of rotten eggs still lingered in the air. That and something else too.

  I stood up, searching for the source of this new smell. It was making me dizzy with its heady scent. Then I saw something. The vivid tendrils on one of the long green cactus arms of the dragon-fruit tree had parted. Nestled inside were the white petals of a flower. In the moonlight it seemed to be glowing.

  I remembered Grandad reading aloud from the book. How he had said that before the fruit there came a flower that bloomed for just one night. I looked around. Several more flowers were starting to open. And then I saw one amazing flower already in full bloom. The tendrils had spread into a star shape and the moon-white petals within had unfolded to reveal a golden heart. This flower was as big as my head. And I breathed in the rich scent of it, picturing the fruit to come.

  Suddenly I knew what I had to do. With Liam nosing around and goodness knows how many more dragons soon to be growing on the tree, I needed to get help. I needed my superhero squad with me.

  Once I’d made the decision to tell the others, I could hardly wait to share the secret. Suddenly I couldn’t believe I’d kept it to myself for almost a whole week. They were going to love Flicker!

  But at school the next day it was precisely thirty seconds before I realised I had a huge problem. We weren’t allowed bags in the classroom, and there was no way Miss Logan would let me get away with wearing my hoodie inside. Besides, even though Flicker still fitted in my pocket, it wouldn’t be much good if he started getting fidgety in there.

  In the end I left him in my rucksack in the changing room. I hung it on a hook right at the back and put my PE kit in front as a feeble disguise. I stuffed some lettuce through the zip, whispered some reassuring words to the little dragon and crossed my fingers he’d be OK till break time.

  In class I kept trying to get Ted, Kat and Kai on their own so I could whisper the exciting news. But we’d been assigned our groups and I was stuck with ‘Lions’, while they all sat across the room in ‘Giraffes’. There was also the problem of Liam’s beady little eyes that seemed to follow me everywhere, so I couldn’t check on Flicker at break. He was even loitering in the hall at lunch when usually he’d be first outside with the football.

  ‘Meet me under the trees,’ I hissed to the others as I shovelled in the last of my lunch and cleared my tray.

  ‘But I haven’t even started my third sandwich,’ Ted said.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ asked Kat.

  ‘I’ve got something to show you,’ I whispered. ‘Something important.’

  ‘Well, go on, show us,’ Kai said.

  ‘Not here,’ I said. ‘Nosy eyes are watching.’

  ‘I don’t think eyes can be nosy,’ Ted said through a mouthful of crisps.

  I ignored him and used some impressive eyebrow acrobatics to try to signal to where Liam was sitting, but by the look on Kat’s face I don’t think it was working.

  ‘You’re being weird again,’ Kai told me.

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you about,’ I said.

  They all looked at each other and then stuffed the remains of their lunches back into their boxes. Apart from Ted who just stuffed his into his mouth.

  ‘Come on, then,’ Kat said. ‘It’s about time you told us what’s going on.’

  While the rest of them headed down to the end of the field, I ducked into the changing room. A quick peek inside the rucksack showed me that Flicker was curled up fast asleep, his little head resting on his tail. I scooped my bag up and raced down to the trees.

  ‘Well, then?’ Kai ask
ed. ‘Spill the beans. What’s the great secret that’s had you acting all weird lately?’

  As I got my breath back I noticed Ted staring at my rucksack. It was bulging and part of it seemed to be moving about of its own accord.

  ‘Er, Tomas, what’s in there?’ he asked, backing away slightly.

  And so I told them.

  And of course they didn’t believe me. I mean, would you? I told them the whole story from start to finish and, dramatic storyteller that I am, I didn’t intend showing them Flicker till I’d completely finished.

  ‘Right, good one!’ Kai laughed.

  ‘Your stories get better and better,’ said Kat, smiling. ‘You should write that one down, Miss Logan would love it. But seriously, Tomas, what’s really going on?’

  Here was my big moment. I paused, savouring the deliciousness of knowing that any second I was going to see That Look on their faces. The look that said, ‘I just cannot believe what my eyes are showing me.’ And ‘Wow, Tomas, you are like the coolest human on earth.’

  I opened my rucksack and reached in. All three of them began to lean towards me.

  But just as they were about to finally see Flicker for themselves a voice said:

  ‘What’ve you got there?’

  We all spun round. It was Liam. And his beady eyes were fixed on my rucksack.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said quickly, gently keeping hold of Flicker and hoping he would sense the danger and keep perfectly still. He didn’t; he actually sneezed and let out a spark that was red hot on my fingers. I winced but forced myself to laugh it off. Kat, Kai and Ted were looking bemused. I’d have to fill them in later. I turned and hurried back across the field. All I knew was that I had to get Flicker away from Liam’s prying eyes.

  But the little dragon had obviously had enough of being cooped up and was now struggling to get free. My rucksack lurched from side to side as he wriggled desperately inside. I clamped my hand over the moving bulge, trying to ignore the strange looks some of my classmates were giving me as I hurried past them. All I could hope was that he hadn’t done a poo in there, and, if he had, that it wasn’t about to explode.

  No one was allowed in the classroom block till the end of break, not even for the loo really. But by pleading and doing some pretty manic jiggling up and down I managed to convince Mrs Olive, who was on playground duty, to let me in. As soon as I was inside I darted into the nearest classroom and fished out the fidgeting dragon. Once in the open, he calmed down and perched happily on my hand. He stretched out his wings, which flickered through varying shades of red before settling into a rusty copperish colour.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘but there are too many nosy parkers out there.’

  Flicker fluttered down into the sink. It was half full of muddy brown water from the paint pots that had been left to soak.

  ‘Don’t drink that,’ I blurted, seeing him lowering his head.

  I cleared everything out and filled the sink with clean water. Then I stood back, watching as the dragon drank and drank, swinging his head back and forth across the surface of the water to scoop up each gulp.

  Nicely refreshed, Flicker took off to explore the classroom.

  ‘Hey, come back,’ I hissed, keeping an eye firmly on the door. ‘Look, I’ll take you out for a fly later, after school.’

  It was not the best time for him to be soaring around. I kept glancing at the windows, half expecting to see Liam’s leering face smooshed up against the glass. But Flicker didn’t seem to care. He was swooping and diving and turning somersaults above my head in a crazy display, like he’d just invented flying or something.

  I tried to coax him back with some of Mr Firth’s yucca plant, but Flicker was having far too much fun to stop whizzing about for a snack. He dive-bombed down towards Mr Firth’s desk, and with a gasp of horror I saw that, as he passed over it, he gave a little shudder. I was pretty sure I knew what that meant – I’d seen enough of them in the last few days.

  And sure enough I was right. Flicker had done a poo in mid-air! The explosive little stink bomb dropped away and I watched it falling as if in slow motion, down, down, down. With an even bigger gasp I saw the slimy mess arc gracefully through the air towards the desk at the front of the classroom. And with a dull ‘plop’ the deadly dragon dropping dropped. Slap bang into Mr Firth’s coffee cup.

  ‘What are you doing?’ hissed a voice behind me.

  I spun round and saw Ted’s head peering round the door.

  ‘Mr Firth’ll kill you if he catches you in here. Come on – it’s nearly time to line up for the bell. Let’s go!’

  I looked from Ted to the cup, but before I could move Flicker took off from the bookshelf where he’d landed. I watched as he started weaving in and out of a display of hot-air balloons that hung in groups from the ceiling. I held my breath, terrified his tail would catch on one of the wires and bring the whole lot crashing down. Following my gaze, Ted looked up. He was just in time to catch the dragon’s next poo squarely on his forehead. The stinky green mess, which was particularly runny, dribbled down his nose, but Ted barely noticed. He stood open-mouthed, staring in bug-eyed wonder at the little ruby shape flitting above him.

  ‘Ted – meet Flicker!’ I said, grinning.

  For once Ted didn’t say anything.

  ‘I’d close your mouth if I were you,’ I laughed. ‘Don’t want one of those little bombs landing in there.’

  Ted turned to look at me, his bewildered face still streaked with poo.

  ‘But … but …’ he stuttered.

  ‘Oh and I should wash that lot off, before it dries,’ I said, pointing towards the sink. ‘Dragon poo has a nasty habit of exploding.’

  A second later the bell rang and, startled, Flicker zipped down to land on my shoulder. I quickly tucked him back in my pocket.

  ‘We have to get Mr Firth’s cup!’ I urged.

  ‘What?’ spluttered Ted, who was desperately splashing water over his face.

  ‘The coffee cup,’ I said, my voice now all tight and squeaky with panic. ‘He did a poo in it!’

  We didn’t get the coffee cup, because before either of us could get to it, people started piling into the classroom and the bell rang again for the start of lessons.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ I whispered as we raced through the doorway.

  ‘Hope he doesn’t drink cold coffee, I guess,’ said Ted.

  Over the course of the afternoon I watched Ted pass from dazed disbelief to almost uncontrollable excitement. When the last bell finally rang, he dragged me, Kat and Kai to the corner of the park, to the little copse of trees where we made our dens.

  ‘Well, show them then!’

  ‘Show us what?’ asked Kat.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Kai. ‘Dude, you’ve been off-the-scale weird all day. And now you’ve got Ted at it too.’

  Ted was grinning from ear to ear, like the cat who’d got the cream. And before I could say anything, he’d blurted out:

  ‘It’s true. He’s only gone and got an actual real live dragon!’

  Kat and Kai stared from Ted to me and back again, obviously trying to suss out where the wind-up was heading. Then, figuring they should just play along, Kai called our bluff.

  ‘OK, then. Show us.’

  So I did. I opened my pocket and let the twins peer in at the glowing red dragon nestled there. His warm, smoky smell floated up towards us. And this time there was no talk of me telling stories.

  There was a moment’s stunned silence, and then –

  ‘THIS IS THE MOST AWESOME THING IN THE WORLD EVER!’ Kai shrieked.

  ‘The totally awesomest,’ agreed Kat in an awed whisper, her eyes not leaving Flicker for one second.

  And they weren’t wrong. I stood there soaking up the glorious moment, the moment when for once I had the coolest pet in the world.

  But Flicker didn’t seem that happy with all the attention.

  He fluttered up to my shoulder, curled his tail around my ear and lay his head against my neck
. I scratched him behind the horn, trying to turn the huge smug grin across my face into more of a look of cool casualness.

  ‘What else can he do? Does he breathe fire? What’s he eat? Is he going to get bigger? Where does he come from?’ asked Kat, unleashing a tumble of questions.

  ‘It’s more sparks than fire at the moment,’ I said, laughing, ‘and he eats leaves and vegetables.’

  I didn’t want to admit that for the rest I was about as clueless as they were. They were looking at me like I was this expert dragon whisperer or something, and I didn’t want to spoil that.

  It didn’t take Flicker long to get used to the others, and soon he was fluttering from hand to hand.

  ‘He’s so cute,’ said Kat, running her finger down his spiny back.

  ‘Do you think he understands stuff?’ said Ted. ‘I mean, could we train him, do you think?’

  They tried calling him from one to another, and although once or twice Flicker flew onto the hand of the person that had called him, mostly he didn’t.

  ‘He’s still a baby,’ I said, feeling like I wanted to stick up for him.

  ‘Or as daft as Dexter,’ said Kai.

  Dexter was their terrier. They’d had ideas of training him up to do cool circus tricks when he was a pup, but the most they ever got him to do was sit and stay and now he didn’t even often do that.

  ‘Can he come home with us?’ Kai said suddenly.

  ‘Er, no,’ I said.

  ‘Why not? You’ve had a turn. You’ve had him for ages.’

  ‘He’s not a toy!’ I said crossly. I made out that I was sticking up for his rights as a majestically free and independent animal, but actually I was overcome by a very deep feeling that I didn’t want anyone else having the coolest pet any of us had ever owned.

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ said Kai. ‘I just meant we should share him.’

  It was true that we did share most stuff. Toys, books, games, all got swapped from house to house. But Flicker was different.