“Anyway. Um… West?”
“Yeah?”
“I know we’ve only been friends for like. . . a few days. But…”
Warning, warning! Gobbledy-gook alert! She’s going to say how much our friendship means or… oh, crud, something even worse. I tense and suck my top lip in, closing my eyes against the uncomfortable glob of ickiness.
…I decided what I want from the magic pouch. And… it’s kind of, well…” Her voice trails in a whisper.
I exhale. No gobbledy-gook! She wants me to make her something.
I turn and smile. “What is it? Money? Jewels?”
Lenora looks like she might cry. Softly, barely audible over the drone of the kids filing off the bus, she replies. “My mom.”
THURSDAY, STILL ON THE BUS—SPEECHLESS FOR ONCE
The skin on the back of my neck prickles. I can’t do that. There’s no way. I’m sure if my mom died, I’d wish for the same thing. But she can’t be serious.
Lenora looks at me like a hopeful puppy desperate for a treat.
“Lenora, I can’t.” I stand up and wait for the kids in front to get off the bus.
“Why not?” She slumps.
“Who knows what could happen? That’s got to be against the code,” I whisper as kids file past.
“You just invented that code. And, technically, there’s only one rule, which you immediately broke when it was convenient for you.”
“Yeah. But, this type of thing is exactly why we need a code.”
Snake passes by and hip checks me, but I ignore him.
“What about a friendship code?” Lenora asks, her voice getting louder and higher pitched. “I just want to talk to her one time. One conversation.” She stands, her eyes wide and pleading.
“I don’t know, Lenora…”
“Please, pretty please. I’ll be your loyal and true best friend forever. Always by your side, through thick and thin.” Her hands are clasped in front of her chin, begging. “I would never throw popcorn at the back of your head.”
What she’s saying is tempting. It would be super nice to have a loyal friend I could always count on. And Lenora is mega fun. Truthfully, she’s way nicer to me than Josh and Snake are. Maybe I should do this for her. It certainly couldn’t be worse than a T. rex. Maybe it would feel good to do something nice for someone and make that person happy instead of, say, giving someone a black eye and making that person hate you.
I look at Lenora as she bats her eyelashes, and I imagine what it would be like to see her mom crawl out of my pouch. She’d be six inches high. That would be weird. No one wants a six-inch-high mom. What if she came out a zombie, like the pharaoh? She did die, after all.
Shivers run down my spine. Even act-before-you-think Westin knows this is a bad idea.
“But… remember?” I say, searching for a reason to say no. “I can only conjure things I’ve seen. I’ve never seen your mom.” The bus is now completely empty.
“You could look at photos. I could tell you about her.”
“I can’t…” I look down and kick at the seat leg.
“You mean, you won’t.” Lenora picks up her backpack and slings it over her shoulder, whacking me in the chest with it.
“Lenora.” I tug at a tear in the back of the vinyl seat cover. “I get it. I do. I’d give anything to see Uncle Marty again. And this is your mom. I can’t even imagine what it must be like. But… the thing is, you never even knew her. Right? How could you tell me what she was like?”
Lenora puts a hand to her chest, like I kicked her there. Almost too quietly, she says, “That’s possibly the worst thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Without another word, she pushes past me, stomping down the aisle.
“Lenora! Come on. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
She doesn’t look back. I run after her.
“Lenora, wait!”
“You’re supposed to help friends!” she yells behind her. “Maybe that’s why you don’t have any anymore.”
Ouch.
She keeps moving, marching toward a blue bike locked with a long chain in the school bike barn.
“I just meant… think about it,” I plead. “She’d come out six inches tall, like Thor and the mummy did. What are you going to do with a tiny mom? Lenora, I can’t do that.”
She stops. “I don’t care if she’s tiny!”
“Are you listening to yourself? Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? It never works out the way you want.”
She huffs.
“And I haven’t figured out how to send things back yet. You’d just, what? Hide your six-inch mom in my closet with a T. rex?”
The chain clinks against the stem of the bike as Lenora unravels and plops it into her front basket. She’s going to yell at me. Start screaming any minute. I just know it.
But instead, Lenora does something worse. She starts to cry. Not a loud wailing cry. More of a wet sniffle. Sometimes that’s harder to watch.
“I’m super sorry,” I say.
“You don’t understand.” Lenora cries softly. “Your mom is still alive. I don’t remember mine. Not at all.” Her crying starts to get bigger, the tears dripping off her cheeks. “You’re right. I have no idea what she was like. She wasn’t a ballet dancer or a yoga teacher or an artist or a model. I don’t know anything about her because no one ever talks about her.”
That makes sense, but it makes me feel a thousand times worse too.
“Maybe you could ask your dad? Like I asked Gram about Uncle Marty. Your dad’s so nice. And he cares a lot about you. I mean, I wish my dad was like that.”
Lenora wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ve tried. He always changes the subject.”
“Maybe Grannie then? What if you ask her?”
“Grannie? The one who…” Lenora sucks in a sob. …cooked… the only other thing I loved?” Her shoulders start to shake. “I want to meet her. Just once. Even if she’s tiny. I could hold onto that forever.”
I stand in front of her, not knowing what to do with my hands. It seems like I should hug her or something, but that’s too weird. “Um. I’m really sorry you didn’t know your mom.”
Lenora takes in another sobby breath and looks up at me, so hopeful. I start to fiddle with the chain and lock, lifting it out of her bike basket.
“I know how much you want this. But I think it’s a bad idea,” I whisper, still fumbling with the chain. To no one’s surprise, it slips through my fingers and lands on her toes.
“Ow! West, what’s wrong with you?” Her face is red and moist, and she wipes at it with the back of her hand. “Can’t you just stop for once?”
“Sorry. Vacation Brain…”
“Stop blaming your brain,” Lenora snaps. “Your brain is you.”
Her words are a swift kick in the groin. Vacation Brain isn’t me. I thought she understood.
“You have this epic thing, West. You could do so much with that magic. Anything! All you do is destroy half your room with ridiculous creatures.” She throws her hands in the air.
I take a step back. “But not this, Lenora. Can’t you see? That’s why we should have a code—”
“Sure! Great! Make your stupid code. Then you can break it right away for your friends. You know, the ones who clearly hate you. I hope that works out for you.” She swings her leg over the bike and pushes me out of her way with her shoulder.
I stand there, mouth open, holding back tears. It feels like Thor whacked me in the stomach. This has got to be a record. Friend made and lost in forty-eight hours. Triple dang it.
THURSDAY NIGHT
Mom is furious. Rotor blades are whirring so fast, the gale force nearly knocks me over.
“How do you miss carpool?”
I toss my backpack on the floor of the car and slam the door. Five minu
tes late. I only took five minutes to talk to Lenora, and Nicole seized the opportunity to convince her mom to leave without me. Probably made up some story about how I tackled her at the museum and got detention.
Well, I guess that’s sort of true. I did tackle her at the museum. And I did get detention—just not for this.
“I’m so sorry, Mom.”
“You absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, miss carpool tomorrow. I have an extremely important meeting in the city that I can’t leave. Do you understand? I’m giving a presentation at a conference, and I won’t even have my phone on in case you call.”
I nod.
“All you have to do is get to the car line and wait for your ride. What were you doing anyway? You didn’t get detention, did you? Did you get in trouble on the field trip?”
Yes, and yes. Man, I’m like an open book. But neither of those truths are why I was late.
“Um, I made a new friend. And, well… her mom died. And she was super sad about it and needed someone to talk to, so I stayed late to listen.”
This partly true lie is brought to you for two reasons:
Mom is a total softie when it comes to helping people with their problems.
She’ll be ecstatic I made a new friend.
“You have a new friend?”
Bingo.
I nod.
“Well… I’m proud of you for being a good friend. But I can’t be coming to work late and leaving early, buddy. Especially tomorrow.”
I nod. Here’s hoping tomorrow won’t involve me bringing a mummy—or anything else—to life.
When we arrive home, I go directly to the fridge and pull out a chunk of salami for T, plus a slice of leftover pizza for myself. I’m starving after a long day of alarms, mummies, and disappointing my new friend. There’s about an inch less of salami today, so I’m betting Thor got some to feed T. At least he didn’t leave a mess this time.
“Hmm, where’s Fiddles?” Mom asks.
“Dunno.” I slam the fridge door and head down the hall to my room, munching the cold pizza.
“How’s your room coming along?” Mom yells after me. “Can we put Cappuccino back in there yet? Do you need any help? I have storage bins if you want them.”
“Nope!” I yell back, opening my bedroom door. As I do, I think about what Mom said about Fiddles. She always comes to the kitchen when we get home. But today she didn’t. She’s nowhere in sight.
My heart jumps to my throat. What if she got in my room when Thor came out to feed Tiny T?
Oh no. Please no.
I’m afraid to open my eyes. When I do, I’m not ready for what I see.
Fiddles is on the carpet by the bookshelf. Her collar is off, and she’s not moving. And holy, holy crud! Tiny T is loose in my room.
Oh no, he killed her. He did it.
My hand flies to my mouth. “Oh, Fiddles.”
Her feline head pops up, and I jump. She’s not dead! She was… sleeping? With a T. rex running around? A T. rex who is currently charging right toward her!
“Fiddles, run!” I yell.
Thor, trying to capture T, has climbed on his back and is swinging his hammer in the air. And Tiny T is not so tiny. He’s as big as a very large raccoon now.
Fiddles has got to be the most dimwitted cat in the entire world. She doesn’t move. She’s completely oblivious, not even remotely concerned that she’s about to get demolished by a reptile with fangs. Instead, she starts preening herself.
I charge toward her. “Fiddles, run!” I wave my arms.
“What’s going on in there, hon?” Mom yells from the kitchen.
I grab Fiddles and swoop her up. Thor is still on T’s back, coming right at my shins, and I have nowhere to go.
“Faster, you beast!” Thor yells.
Faster?
Just before careening into me, T veers left and circles toward the closet, narrowly missing chewing off my legs. That’s when I notice that Thor is holding onto a pink collar around T’s neck—Fiddles’s collar.
“Are you riding him?” I ask in disbelief.
The army men are lined up by the closet, jumping up and down. Cheering Thor on.
“We have reached a truce, your mighty dragon and I. He is actually quite an agreeable fellow!”
Fiddles tries to wiggle out of my arms, but I clasp tight. “You reached a truce?” Thor and the T. rex whip by me again, and I flinch. “He let you put Fiddles’s collar on and ride him?”
Thor pulls not-so-Tiny T to a stop. T bends down, and Thor hops off his back. T is panting as he faces Fiddles and me, saliva dripping from the sharp tips of his teeth, almost like he’s… drooling. For dinner.
The hairs rise on my neck, and I step back toward the door. Any minute now he’s gonna charge us. Suddenly Fiddles wriggles free and leaps at T and Thor.
“No!” I reach for my cat as she rolls onto her back, completely unaware that she’s about to be dino-dinner. “Thor, don’t let him eat her!”
In a flash, Tiny T lowers his angular jaws in her direction. I thrust my hands out, just as T lunges at Fiddles’s belly.
“Fiddles!” I cry.
But I can’t get to her in time. Tiny T is on her and… wait. He’s rubbing his face in her fur?
Fiddles swats playfully at Tiny T’s head, like she does to me when I tickle her. T just rubs some more, getting the fur on her belly wet with his drool. Fiddles bats at him a few more times, then bounds to her feet and leaps onto the bookshelf.
“What the heck?” I let out the giant breath I was holding. “I thought he was going to eat her.”
Thor laughs. “Nonsense. He prefers that flat red meat you serve. Salami.”
Tiny T cocks his head, like a dog hearing the word walk. Spying the food in my clenched fist, he ambles over to me and sits, arms hanging, tongue wagging—like he’s begging.
This is unbelievable. My dinosaur and my cat are now friends. My small Norse god likes to ride said dinosaur. And my headless zombie army likes to cheer them on.
My life is insane. (And also, awesome.)
I kneel and slowly extend my hand, offering T the salami. This might possibly be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. In thirty seconds, I could be missing my right hand. I should throw the food on the floor, of course, but I guess Vacation Brain is at a show in Vegas.
T sniffs and takes a step forward, then another, until he is inches from my extended hand. He bends slightly and gently tugs at the meat with his mouth, his eyes on mine the whole time.
I don’t move my hand, and once he’s done eating, he does the most unexpected thing. He rubs the side of his face in my palm, just like Fiddles does when she wants her chin rubbed.
My heart thumps madly. I just hand-fed a T. rex.
I reach forward and slowly stroke Tiny T’s chin. He immediately falls to his back on the ground, and I jump. The green army men rush to him and climb over each other to scratch his chin and belly. The T. rex moans, low and growly.
“He enjoys a good scratching,” says Thor. “The men attend to him when he reclines. Their hard-skinned surface works well on dragonian hide.”
“How did you get him like this?” Kneeling, I scoot close to T and the men. This is crazy. He’s docile. I don’t care how big he gets. I’m totally keeping him.
“We tamed him. We have been sharing the dungeon for days. These things happen.” Thor climbs onto T’s tail and is lifted high into the air. Hanging on with one hand, Thor waves his mallet, as if he’s riding a bull.
After a moment, T curls his tail and deposits Thor onto his belly. “I am pleased I did not have to kill you, wingless dragon,” Thor says, rubbing him hard.
I lean forward and, keeping my eyes on T’s mouth, slowly extend my hand to pat his belly. His skin is cold and dimply like a basketball.
There’s a knock on
my door. “Buddy, dinner in fifteen minutes.”
At the sound of Mom’s voice, T jumps to his feet, throwing Thor off his belly and startling the army men. I leap back and pick up my plastic trash bin to shield myself if he attacks.
Thor raises his hands. “Calm yourself, mighty one. It is only the ogre’s mother.”
T bends toward Thor with his mouth slightly open, and for a second, I think the mini god is toast. But instead, T licks Thor’s face, and the army men jump with excitement.
Thor wipes his face with the back of his hand. “They think it’s amusing because they know it displeases me. My lady should not delight in the smell of dragon spit on my face.”
I’m pretty sure Lenora won’t care what Thor smells like, but I so wish she were here to see this. Maybe then she’d forget she’s mad at me.
I grab my phone and check that it’s fully charged. I’m not taking lame blurry photos this time. This time, Lenora and the guys are going to get their minds blown.
“Let’s give the nonbelievers something good to see!” I announce.
In a few minutes, I have an obstacle course set up on the floor of my room. I use old train tracks, blocks, and books. The course has curves and jumps; it winds around the room, over the bed, and through the closet.
Thor mounts T, and when I say “Go!” he races though the course with Fiddles casually looking on. I clock how fast they go, recording the whole thing on my phone, and with each run, they beat their previous time.
“Two minutes and twelve seconds! A dinosaur world record!” I high-five Thor’s small hand—after teaching him what it means—and he slides down T’s back to the floor.
“There’s no way Josh and Snake won’t believe me now,” I say. “Once Lenora and the guys see this, everything will be normal, and we can be friends again.”
“Ogre. You are proving to be among the more pleasant monsters I have encountered. At the very least, I am not of frequent mind to slay you. However, if this is the recourse to win friends, then these ogres seem but foes in disguise.” Thor rubs his little chin. “This is of great concern.”
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