by Tom Nicoll
“An email address, Pan,” I said. “You use it to send messages to people over the internet. The Longs … that’s your family surname.”
Pan looked confused. “But … the dragon codes are ancient.”
“He’s right – no one uses email any more,” said Min with a chuckle.
“But Dad used to go on a two-day trek to the nearest city to find a temple where he could use the dragon code,” said Pan. “He always said that one day, when I was older, he would bring me along.”
“Maybe by ‘temple’ he meant ‘internet café’,” suggested Jayden.
“Look, there’s one way to find out if it’s a real address,” I said. “Let’s email it.”
Pan let out a little gasp. “Use the dragon code? But you’re a … human!”
Shaking my head, I stood up and opened my bedroom door. “Mum!” I shouted. “Is it OK if we use the computer?”
“That’s fine, Eric,” Mum shouted back. “But I’ll need it in half an hour for my class.”
Mum had been teaching yoga for years, but recently she had hit upon the idea of teaching classes online, live-streaming them to the entire world. She was making a fortune. I had even got a little boost in my pocket money for helping her set it up.
We went through to the computer room, which is what I call our spare room. My dad calls it Command Central, because it’s the room he uses to plot his tactics for the Kippers. Mum calls it the yoga room because… Well, you can probably guess why. And if she could talk, Pusskin would probably call it her room, since it was where she spent most of her time. She was curled up in the desk chair, but as soon as she saw Pan she was out of the room in a shot.
“Bye, Pusskin,” said Pan, smiling for the first time in ages.
I raised the lid of the laptop computer, then clicked on the envelope icon. I logged into my email account and began typing:
“What?” I said, noticing that the others were giving me funny looks.
“It reads like a ransom note,” said Min.
“You write it, then,” I said, frowning.
“Fine, I will,” said Min, shoving me out of the way. She deleted what I had written before cracking her knuckles and launching into her own email.
“Min!” I said. “Get to the point!”
“Yeah,” said Jayden. “You’re writing an email, not a book.”
Min folded her arms. “I suppose you think you can do better?” she said.
“As a matter of fact I do,” said Jayden.
“Jayden!” I said.
“What?” protested Jayden. “It’s an icebreaker, isn’t it? It’s a really funny video.”
As the three of us argued about what to put in the email, Pan jumped up on to the keyboard and began dancing across the keys, typing out his own message.
There was an awkward silence as the three of us watched him type.
“Pan,” I said softly. “I don’t know how to put this…”
“Your email’s gibberish,” said Min bluntly.
“No, it isn’t,” said Pan. “Mini-Dragons have our own language.”
“Oh,” I said. Pan hadn’t mentioned this before. He had taught himself how to speak English before we had even met so it had never been an issue. “What does your message say?”
“I just said it was me and that I was safe,” said Pan. “And I asked them to reply.”
He clicked the send button and the message vanished.
“Well … that’s that, then,” I said.
“Now what?” asked Jayden.
“Now we wait,” said Min.
“I still don’t think this is going to work,” said Pan. “I’m telling you – only adult Mini-Dragons know the secrets of dragon codes. We’re just wasting our—”
The four of us looked at the monitor. A little mail icon was flashing in the bottom corner of the screen.
“What’s that?” asked Pan.
“It’s a reply,” I said, clicking on the icon. A message opened up on screen.
“Click me?” I said.
“What does that mean?” asked Jayden.
“If I had to guess,” said Min, “I think it means we should click on the link.”
“Well, obviously,” said Jayden. “What I mean is, you don’t just click on random links in emails, do you? What if you opened a virus? It could wipe all the programs on your computer or steal all your information.”
“Jayden’s right,” I said. “Mum would kill me if I downloaded a virus. I think we should take some time and think about this carefully.”
Pan clicked on the link.
I sighed. “Or we could just do that.”
A rotating egg timer appeared on screen. Moments later, a light beamed out of the webcam and then the four of us were staring back at ourselves from a little box in the corner of the screen. Then the egg timer vanished and in its place was a bigger box. Inside it were two Mini-Dragons.
“RAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!” they cried.
“MUM! DAD!” cried Pan.
“I’m so happy to see you guys,” said Pan. “Oh … I mean … RARARRARRAAA.”
The two Mini-Dragons looked at Pan with surprise. “You speak English?” said his mum. I could tell she was Pan’s mum because of:
Pan’s dad had a wispy white beard that was almost as big as him. He also wore a pair of tiny metal-framed spectacles that made him look like a Mini-Dragon professor. “He’s always been a clever boy, we should have known he would have picked up a language or two by now,” he said, his face beaming with pride. Pan’s parents both had the same hint of a Chinese accent that he did.
“I didn’t know you spoke English,” said Pan.
“Of course,” said his mum, smiling fondly. “Your father and I learned to speak English when we went backpacking around Europe before you were born. Those were fun times. Oh, Pan, we were worried sick when your aunt and uncle told us you hadn’t turned up in Mexico. We thought we might never—” She broke off mid-sentence as her eyes met mine for the first time. They flashed wild with fright before she let out an earpiercing shriek.
“Pan! Behind you! Humans! RUN!” shouted Pan’s dad.
“You touch my boy, so help me I’ll find you and hunt you down,” roared Pan’s mum, shaking her little fists at the screen.
“I’m warning you, we have a very particular set of skills,” warned her husband. “They involve lots of fire!”
“Mum, Dad, it’s OK,” said Pan. “These are my friends.”
There was a brief moment of silence.
“Sorry, son,” said his father. “There must be a problem with the connection. It sounded like you said these humans were your friends.”
“That’s right,” said Pan. “It’s a long story.”
“It would have to be,” said his mum. “Well, let’s hear it.”
Of course they already knew how the story began – their family cave getting destroyed by builders. Pan’s parents had planned to fly to the top of the mountains and settle there instead. But Pan hadn’t got the hang of flying yet – to put it politely – so his parents had decided to send him to live with his aunt and uncle, bundling him into a container of beansprouts on a ship bound for Mexico.
Now Pan filled them in on what had happened next, starting with the detour the boxes made when the restaurant that had ordered them went out of business. Then his arrival in England at Min’s parents’ Chinese restaurant, Panda Cottage, and finally Min herself delivering Pan to our house in a takeaway on that fateful Friday night.
Pan’s mum let out little gasps at each part of the story. Pan wisely avoided mentioning the two occasions he’d been dragon-napped by Toby.
“Oh dear,” said Pan’s dad, looking a little upset. “It hadn’t crossed my mind that the beansprouts would have ended up somewhere else.”
“It’s not your fault,” said Pan. “You weren’t to know that Panda Cottage Mexico would give food poisoning to a bunch of pro-wrestlers, forcing the owner to flee the country.”
“I suppose that
would be quite difficult to predict,” agreed Mr Long.
“So these humans … they’re your … friends?” asked Mrs Long, smiling nervously.
Pan nodded enthusiastically.
“Wonderful,” she replied, in a voice that suggested she thought this was anything but. “What are their names?”
“This is Min and Jayden,” said Pan.
“Nice to meet you,” my friends chorused.
Pan’s parents nodded and smiled politely.
“And this is Eric,” said Pan, pointing proudly at me. “He’s been letting me sleep in his sock drawer.
“His sock drawer?” said Pan’s mum, looking aghast.
Feeling a bit awkward, I smiled and gave her a little wave.
“Don’t be like that, Mum,” said Pan. “It’s the best bed I’ve ever had. Much comfier than sleeping on rocks like at home.”
Her face softened a little. “Yes, well, I suppose we must thank you, Eric, for looking after our son,” she said. “I hope he hasn’t been any trouble.”
I stared at the screen, trying to figure out how to answer that, then looked down at Pan, who was waving his hands and shaking his head furiously.
“Um…”
“Er…”
“Well…”
“No,” I said, eventually. “No trouble at all.”
“Well, I’m Mr Long,” said Pan’s dad. “But you can call me Cheng. And this is my wife Isabel—”
“And you can call me Mrs Long,” she said firmly, before turning her attention back to Pan. “You look healthy enough. That’s something, I suppose. How is the mountain goat in England anyhow? I’ve heard it’s very bland over there.”
Pan and I exchanged glances. “Actually, Mum, I haven’t had that much goat recently. In fact, none at all.”
Mrs Long looked horrified. “But you’re a Mini-Dragon,” she said. “What else could you possibly be eating?”
“They have these things called prawn crackers,” said Pan.
“Prawn crackers?” she repeated, covering her mouth. “Jumping dragons, it’s worse than I thought.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Pan’s dad, “I used to quite enjoy a good prawn cracker. They are one of the three Mini-Dragon food groups, after all.”
His wife shot him a look. “Yes, and so is dirty washing, if you believe everything you read. Would you have our son eating that, too?”
Pan’s dad started to lick his snout. “Actually, I was always partial to a nice tea-stained vest as a boy. Or a good pair of muddy trousers. I was even known to enjoy a tomato-juice-soaked jumper from time to time. Had to be in the mood for those, mind you…”
“A growing Mini-Dragon should be eating mountain goat!” declared Pan’s mum conclusively.
An awkward silence fell over the room. Min, Jayden and I stared at our shoes.
“Er … Mum, you look in great shape by the way,” said Pan.
His mother smiled and waved him away. “Oh stop,” she said.
“No, seriously,” said Pan. “Have you been working out?”
“Well … yes, I have,” she said proudly. “There are these yoga classes I’ve been watching on the internet. It’s the only thing that’s helped with the stress I’ve been under since you went missing. The woman that does it is a bit … different for my tastes, but she’s a very good teacher. In fact, I’ll have to go soon, her class starts in a few minutes.”
The four of us looked at each other with stunned expressions. Nah, I thought, it couldn’t be… Could it?
“What’s wrong?” asked Mrs Long.
“Never mind,” said Pan, squinting at the screen. I wondered what he was looking at, as all I could see in the background was a pile of rocks. “Wait … are you guys in the mountains right now?” asked Pan. “How can you be on the internet?”
“It’s our new neighbours,” replied his father excitedly. “Say what you want about them, and believe me, your mother did, but the humans that knocked down our old cave and put up all those new buildings sure know a thing or two about Wi-Fi. We even get a strong signal all the way up here in our new cave. With the Mini-Generator and laptop computer I picked up it means we don’t have to keep going back and forth to internet cafés in the dead of night.”
“Hang on … you ‘picked up’ a Mini-Generator and a laptop? You just went into a shop and bought them?”
His parents burst out laughing. “Oh, darling,” said his mum. “Don’t be so silly.”
The little Mini-Dragon frowned. “So you stole them, then?”
The smiles on his parents’ faces turned to shocked expressions. “Now, son,” said Pan’s dad, “how could you suggest such a thing? I admit, we didn’t exactly walk up to the till, but we made sure the owners received fair payment.”
Pan let out a groan. “You left them a goat, didn’t you?”
“A delicious goat,” corrected Pan’s dad.
Pan shook his head in disbelief.
“Anyway, we must be going now,” said his mum. “Yoga calls.”
Pan looked a little sad. “Can we speak again soon?” he asked.
“Of course, sweetheart,” she replied. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up before Aunt Maria and Uncle Fernando arrive at Eric’s house.”
“Oh, that’s good,” said Pan.
A pause.
“Wait… What?” said Pan. “Why are they coming here?”
“We’re sending them to get you, of course,” she said. “Pan, we’ve been so worried – we’ve sent messages to all the Mini-Dragon families across the world. We’ve had Mini-Dragons searching the continents for you. Your dad and I must have flown across most of China ourselves. And your aunt and uncle have travelled all the way to Spain looking for you.”
Mr Long made a little coughing noise. “Actually dear, they’re on holiday,” he said.
Mrs Long glared at her husband. “What? But they told me they had a tip— Oh, I should have known. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now, I’ll get them to pick you up on their way back to Mexico. Just let them even try getting out of it after lying to me.”
Pan’s face dropped. He looked even sadder than before. And this time I felt it, too – we all did. “But I don’t want to live with them,” he said. “They’re horrible. I like it here, with Eric.”
“Come on now, Pan,” said Mrs Long in a soft voice. “I’m sure you’ve had an exciting time with your new … friends, and we’re extremely grateful to them for looking after you, but your place is with your family. With other Mini-Dragons.”
“But Mum—” protested Pan.
“Butting’s for goats,” said his father. “Now be a good boy and email us Eric’s home address. Speak to you soon.”
And with that, they were gone.
“Eric,” shouted Mum from downstairs. “Wrap it up.”
“OK,” I shouted, my voice breaking as I spoke.
The four of us returned to my room. We sat down on my bed, and no one spoke for a long time.
We spent ages trying to come up with ways to stop Pan having to leave. Here was what we had:
Number 5 seemed like our best shot, but the more Pan spoke to his parents, the better the Toby-in-a-dragon-costume idea seemed to get.
A few days later, Pan was in the computer room, speaking to his parents again. Min, Jayden and I were watching, hoping that he could talk them into changing their minds.
“I’m sorry, Pan, but the answer is no,” said Pan’s mum. “A Mini-Dragon’s place is with other dragons.”
“But why those Mini-Dragons?” asked Pan. “They’re bullies.”
Mr Long gave a little chuckle. “They’re not bullies, they’re … well, they’re…” He turned to his wife. “Help me out, Isabel.”
“They’re … a bit stricter than we are,” she agreed. “But that’s not such a bad thing.”
“Can’t I at least come back home?” asked Pan.
“We’ve talked about this, son,” said Mr Long. “Our altitude is too dangerous for a Mini-Dragon
that can’t fly.”
“Well, why don’t you guys come and live here?” suggested Pan. “There’s plenty of room.”
“Umm … Pan … hang on a second…” I started, before Pan’s mum interrupted.
“The Longs have lived in these mountains for thousands of years,” she said. “It’s our home.”
“It was my home, too,” whispered Pan, hanging his head.
Pan’s mum nodded. “Yes, and once your aunt and uncle finish your teaching, you can come back to it. I’ve spoken to them and they should be with you soon, so you might want to stop wasting the time you have left with your friends by arguing with us.”
Once the call ended the four of us slunk back to my room, defeated.
“I don’t want to go,” said Pan. “All I wanted was to see my parents again, but now I’m going to lose my friends.”
Min picked him up and gave him a kiss on the snout. “You’ll always be our friend, Pan.”
“Yeah,” said Jayden. “We’ll talk all the time online – now that you know what an email address is I’m sure we can get you into instant messaging, too.”
The thought of being parted from Pan was unbearable, but I didn’t want to think about it any more. “Your mum’s right,” I said, “about making the most of our time together. Let’s do something other than moping about.”
“Like what?” asked Pan, jumping out of Min’s hand.
“We could play some games?” suggested Jayden.
Pan shook his head. “Not in the mood.”
“Why don’t we go out?” said Min.
“Nah,” said Pan.
“We need to do something, Pan,” I said. “Who knows how much time we have left. Do you really want to spend it sitting here waiting for your aunt and uncle to show up?”
Pan looked up at me defiantly. “No,” he said. “You’re right – let’s go out. Bramble Park. I can ride the ducks again. Not the swans though, they didn’t seem to like it last time.”