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There's a Dragon in my Dinner!

Page 3

by Tom Nicoll


  “Why’s that?” I said suspiciously, realizing at last that Toby had only caught the tail end of the fart.

  “I’m going to buy him off you,” said Toby.

  “You’re going to do what?” I said.

  “How does ten pounds sound?” said Toby, taking his wallet out of his pocket.

  “No.”

  “All right, fine – twenty,” said Toby.

  “No,” I repeated as I picked up Pan and my trowel.

  Toby began to thumb through the notes in his wallet. “Playing hardball, eh? I like it. I’ll go up to fifty.”

  “Go away, Toby,” I said, returning to the weeding, with Pan right next to me just to be safe.

  Toby was starting to get annoyed. “One hundred pounds – my final offer!”

  It was a lot of money, and I had no doubt Toby could afford it, but I didn’t hesitate even for a second. “Toby, I wouldn’t sell him to you for all the money in the world.”

  “Fine, then,” said Toby, storming off. “I’ll just go and find one on the internet. There’s probably a better version anyway.”

  “Wow, he’s really not that bright, is he?” said Pan once Toby was out of sight.

  “He’s really not,” I agreed.

  “Oh well. Can we do something fun now?” asked Pan.

  “I still have to finish the weeding,” I said.

  Pan held a claw to his brow and began to survey the garden, like a general looking out over a battlefield. Except the enemy was the weeds, and they were everywhere. “All right, let me try something,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  Pan dived into the soil and began furiously slicing up the weeds with his claws, like a mini-chainsaw. In less than a minute there wasn’t a single weed still in the ground.

  My jaw was hanging open. “Wow.”

  “Turns out Mini-Dragons are excellent at weeding,” said Pan.

  “Thanks, Pan,” I said, trying not to think about the time we could have saved if he’d just tried that a couple of hours ago.

  “Thanks for not selling me,” said Pan when we got back to my room.

  “No problem,” I said. “We’re friends, Pan. Friends don’t sell friends.”

  For such a small dragon, the smile on Pan’s face was pretty big. “Friends like Jayden?” he said. “Not Toby?”

  “Like Jayden,” I said. “Definitely not like Toby.”

  Remembering I still had the sandwich from earlier, I offered it to Pan again. Once more he declined.

  “But you must be starving,” I said. “You haven’t eaten since you got here. What did you eat back in China?”

  “Oh, lots of things,” said Pan, a dreamy look in his eyes. “I had a very varied diet. Let’s see, there was roasted mountain goat, fried mountain goat, barbecued mountain goat, grilled mountain goat and smoked mountain goat.”

  “So, mostly mountain goat, then?” I asked.

  “Mostly, yeah,” said Pan.

  “I’m afraid we’re a bit short on those around here,” I said.

  “No worries,” said Pan. “Besides, I’ve eaten plenty since I arrived. I found tons to eat in your food basket.”

  “Food basket?” I said, scratching my head. “What food basket?”

  “That one over there in the corner.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “You mean my clothes basket,” I said. “Where I put my dirty washing?”

  I opened the basket and took out my school clothes. Or what was left of them. They were ruined – with hundreds of tiny holes.

  Horrified, I turned to Pan.

  “I thought they went in there because you were finished with them,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t eat any of your socks. Well, that and because it’s rude to eat your bed.”

  I sat down on my bed, closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. I hate to admit it but as I sat there, for a split second I did wonder if it was too late to take Toby’s money.

  “Sorry Eric’s late, Miss Biggs,” said Mum the following day as I took my seat in class. “Emergency shopping trip. There was a … situation at home with his school uniform. Moths apparently. Big ones.” Mum looked at me suspiciously as she said this. Moths had been the only excuse I could think of. It was far fetched but, not as far fetched as what had actually happened.

  Needless to say, this was STRIKE TWO.

  I did try to argue that since it was moths, it was unfair to blame me, but then Mum pointed out that I must have left my window open to let them in.

  My teacher’s eyes were fixed on Mum. There was a sharp intake of breath from the whole class. Miss Biggs lived up to her name. Comparisons were often made to abominable snowwomen, owing to her size, general evil demeanour and her massive white perm. Unlike the yeti, though, Miss Biggs definitely existed.

  Jayden, sitting at the table to my right, leaned over and whispered, “Dude, she’s giving your mum the Biggs Death Stare!”

  Miss Biggs’s infamous Death Stare was the stuff of legend. It was so powerful that kids would confess to things they hadn’t done just to get her to stop. It was like she could look right into your soul and then give it a vicious karate chop. And it worked just as well on adults. Beads of sweat were already forming on Mum’s forehead.

  “Er, yes, well… See you at home, Eric!” shouted Mum as she dashed out of the door.

  Miss Biggs redirected her stare towards me. On any other day, I would probably already be confessing to letting off the stink bomb during lunch last Thursday (even though I didn’t).

  But today, I barely paid her any attention. I was too busy worrying about how Pan was getting on. And then, as I saw Mum’s car drive off out of the window, my mind turned to Pan’s parents, who were probably wondering the same thing.

  “I’ve had a terrible day,” said Pan when I got home.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Well, first I decided to go exploring … then I ran into Pusskin … then I ran from Pusskin … but I managed to give her the slip by hiding out in Posy’s room… Posy invited me to dinner … but it turned out I was the main course!”

  Pan held up his tail. The bite mark was still there. “Luckily I made it back to your room,” he said. “And I haven’t left since.”

  “Sorry, Pan,” I said. “This probably wasn’t what your parents had in mind when they sent you away.”

  “Probably not,” agreed Pan.

  “I was thinking about that today at school,” I said. “We need to find out how you ended up here and not in Mexico. And, if we can, find another way to get you there.”

  Pan looked confused. “You … don’t want me here?”

  “No, no,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not that at all. I’d love you to stay … it’s just that your parents sent you to be with your aunt and uncle … and now you’re here. They’ll be worried. They sent you to be safe and to be looked after by other dragons and now you’re stuck here with me, sleeping in a sock drawer, eating dirty clothes and being chased by cats and eaten by toddlers.”

  “It was just one cat and one toddler,” said Pan quietly.

  “I just don’t think they’d be very happy,” I said. “I don’t want you to go, at least not so soon, but I think it’s the right thing to do.”

  Pan still didn’t look convinced. “So, how do we find out what happened?” he asked.

  “We need to go back to where you came from,” I said.

  “China?”

  “Er … no, after that.”

  “What do you mean, where do my beansprouts come from?” asked Mr Song, as he laid out chopsticks in preparation for a busy evening at Panda Cottage. He looked at me suspiciously. “You’re not from the Department of Health, are you?”

  “I’m eight years old,” I said.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” said Mr Song.

  I sighed. “No, Mr Song, I’m not from the the Department of Health.”

  “Good,” he said. “Panda Cottage is the most hygienic Chinese restaurant in town!”
/>   I was about to remind him that it was the only Chinese restaurant in town, but decided against it. “Yeah, I know that, it’s uh … for a school project.”

  “Hmm. All right, then,” said Mr Song, looking slightly less suspicious. “They come directly from China. I have good connections there. Best ingredients. Best prices.”

  I had guessed that much, but it didn’t explain why Pan had ended up here and not Mexico.

  “Although…” said Mr Song. “Our latest shipment technically comes from Mexico. Quite annoying, really.”

  “Mexico?” I said, perking up.

  “Yes… My pal Dave had a Panda Cottage franchise out in Mexico City. He thought he could make a fortune selling Chinese food to the Mexican wrestlers. It was a good plan, except for one thing – he’s a lousy cook. He couldn’t follow the recipes and ended up making all the wrestlers sick. He had to flee the city from dozens of angry Luchadores – that’s Spanish for wrestler – and return to England. And, of course, all this happens on the day he was due to get a huge stock delivery. No one’s there to sign for it, so they just stick it on another boat and send it all to me. So now I’m out of pocket and I’ve got beansprouts coming out of my ears. Do you want any? Here, take a box. Take a dozen!”

  “No, thank you,” I said as he tried to force boxes into my arms. “I don’t suppose your friend is planning on going back to Mexico any time soon?”

  Mr Song frowned. “No, but I did just find out today that he’s about to open a new restaurant. In Antarctica.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Please, don’t get me started,” sighed Mr Song.

  “Well, that was a waste of time,” said Pan, who had been hiding in my backpack, as we left Panda Cottage.

  “Yeah, unless you fancy living in Antarctica,” I said.

  “Not really.”

  “Then I think we’re stuck with each other,” I said. I felt an odd sensation and realized after a moment that it was relief.

  “That’s all right,” said Pan. “My aunt and uncle aren’t that nice, to be honest. They came to stay with us once. They were always criticizing me, telling my parents I needed to be toughened up. I’m not sure I would have been very happy living with them.”

  “Hey, Eric, wait up!” Min Song bounded towards me.

  “Oh, hi, Min,” I said, trying to sound like there definitely wasn’t a tiny dragon in my bag.

  Min frowned. “What are you up to?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

  “I don’t know, you’ve been acting well strange today,” she said. “First you show up late to class, then you spend the rest of the day staring into space. Then I overhear you talking to my dad about beansprouts for a school project that I know you don’t have. And now I’ve just seen you talking to yourself. Are you all right, Eric?”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  Min didn’t look convinced, but maybe she would have dropped it if what happened next hadn’t happened.

  “Attishoooo!” sneezed my backpack.

  Min and I stared at each other for what seemed like forever. For a second I considered pretending to have a cold, but the look on Min’s face made it clear I wasn’t going to be able to lie my way out of this one. I thought about running, but Min was the fastest girl in school.

  “Hurry up and open the bag,” said Min, looking at her watch. “I haven’t got all day.”

  Reluctantly, I unzipped my backpack. Pan popped his head out. He gave her a little wave.

  Min let out a massive scream then sprinted back up the road.

  Me and Pan stood there in stunned silence. “Well, that seemed to go well,” said Pan.

  I chased after Min all the way back to Panda Cottage then lost sight of her. With guests starting to arrive, Min’s dad was a lot less accommodating.

  “Sorry, kid,” he said, “now’s not a good time. And if it’s Min you’re after, you’ll have to wait to see her at school. Now, are you sure you won’t take a couple of dozen boxes of beansprouts?”

  “No, thank you,” I said, before giving up and going home.

  I barely slept at all that night, terrified that Min would alert the authorities. With every squeak of the stairs, I expected a bunch of men in dark suits and sunglasses to burst through my door and take Pan.

  But they never did.

  The following day at school I tried to speak to Min, but she kept avoiding me. In class, she had swapped chairs so that she was at the other end of the room. At break, I waited for her in the corridor. As soon as she saw me, she spun on her heels and marched off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the girls’ toilets.

  At lunch I saw her sitting at a table and was just about to finally get near her, when Jayden, who was sitting at the next table, shouted, “Hey, Eric, I saved a seat for you.”

  A startled-looking Min glanced up at me, before quickly grabbing her tray and rushing off.

  “What was all that about?” asked Jayden as I sat down.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Hey, want to come round mine tonight?” he asked. “It’s been ages since we hung out.”

  “We hung out on Sunday,” I said.

  “I mean hang out and do something fun,” said Jayden.

  “Not tonight, sorry,” I said.

  As much as I wanted to hang out with Jayden, I needed to get hold of Min and convince her not to tell anyone.

  “Tomorrow, then?” he suggested.

  “No, I can’t do then, either,” I said. “Toby comes over on Wednesdays.”

  Jayden sighed. “Thursday?”

  Meeting up with Jayden meant leaving Pan alone, and I already felt bad enough about him having to hide out from Pusskin in my room all day. On the other hand, Jayden was my best friend and I had to make time for him, too. ARRRGHHH! Things would be much simpler if I could just tell Jayden the truth. But given how badly Min had reacted, that didn’t seem like a great idea.

  “Fine, it doesn’t matter,” said Jayden, as I realized I had been too busy thinking all this over to answer his question.

  “Yeah – Thursday,” I blurted out. “Thursday’s fine.”

  When had my life got so complicated?

  Min continued to avoid me for the rest of the afternoon and the whole of the next day, too. On the up side, Pan still hadn’t been dragon-napped.

  We had spent some time trying to find things Pan could eat that weren’t also things I needed to wear. So far he had sampled the following food items and found them disgusting:

  I was especially surprised that he didn’t care for the ketchup sandwiches – that’s my signature dish! It’s taken me years to perfect the recipe (two bits of bread, half a bottle of ketchup). Honestly, there’s no accounting for taste with some Mini-Dragons.

  The next evening I was so busy worrying about Min, and Pan’s diet, that I barely put any effort into losing to Toby. In fact I was so distracted that when Toby left to go to the toilet, I didn’t notice until about five minutes later that he hadn’t come back.

  I rushed up the stairs to find him in my room, going through my things.

  “What are you up to, Toby?” I said.

  “Nothing!” he said, trying to look innocent, which was quite difficult given that he was holding my pants in his hands.

  I glared at him.

  “All right, fine,” he said, tossing my pants away. “I couldn’t find that stupid dragon anywhere online.”

  “So you were planning on stealing mine?”

  “I offered to pay you! Still will, in fact. Come on, Eric, let’s make a deal.”

  I glared at Toby. “The only deal I’m going to make with you, is that if you go home right now, I won’t tell Mum you were raking through my underwear.”

  Toby glared right back at me. “Fine,” he said, “but that dragon will be mine. I always get what I want.”

  “Not this time,” I said.

  “We’ll see, Crispo,” he said, before slamming my bedroom door behind him.


  “Pan?” I said, looking round the room.

  “A little help,” came a muffled voice.

  I opened the drawer immediately below the one Toby had been going through. Inside, a pair of socks rocked back and forth. I reached in and pulled out Pan.

  “Thanks,” he said. “It was the only place I could think to hide. But socks are much easier to get into than out of.”

  Toby had come closer than he would ever know to getting his hands on Pan. Great, I thought. Another thing to worry about.

  I didn’t even bother trying to speak to Min on Thursday. I knew she wouldn’t want to talk to me, but at least she hadn’t blabbed to anyone.

  Then, after school, something unexpected happened. I was just leaving the house to go and meet Jayden at the park and there she was, standing on my doorstep, holding a brown paper bag under one arm and an enormous book under the other.

  “Can we talk?” she asked.

  “Er … sure.”

  We went upstairs to my room.

  “You’re back early,” said Pan, looking up at us from behind a Slug Man comic.

  “You’re supposed to freeze,” I said.

  Pan shook his head. “Nah, she’s not a threat. Are you?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Min. She turned to me. “Sorry about the other day. It was just a bit of a shock, you know, seeing a Mini-Dragon for the first time.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “Wait, how do you know he’s a Mini-Dragon?”

  A smile formed on Min’s face. “I’ve been doing some research.”

  She slammed the huge book on to my bed.

 

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