Drake the Dragonboy
Rebecca Schultz
Published by JoJo Publishing
First published 2014
‘Yarra’s Edge’
2203/80 Lorimer Street
Docklands VIC 3008
Australia
Email: [email protected] or visit www.jojopublishing.com
© Rebecca Schultz
All rights reserved. No part of this printed or video publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electrical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
JoJo Publishing
Designer / typesetter: Chameleon Print Design
Editor: Ormé Harris
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Author: Schultz, Rebecca.
Title: Drake the Dragonboy / Rebecca Schultz.
ISBN: 9780987607621 (ePub, Mobi)
Target Audience: For children.
Subjects: Kidnapping—Juvenile fiction.
Adventure stories.
Dewey Number: A823.4
Digital edition distributed by
Port Campbell Press
www.portcampbellpress.com.au
Conversion by Winking Billy
Rebecca Schultz has a love of writing. She has worked as an Information Technology journalist and as an on-line writing specialist. Rebecca is secondary-teaching trained; her passion is working with people who have difficulties learning to read and write. She currently teaches English as a Second Language to adults at Wodonga TAFE, Victoria.
Drake the Dragonboy is Rebecca’s first children’s book.
Rebecca lives in East Albury with her four-year-old son, dog and cat.
Drake Dramco was sitting in class concentrating hard and tapping his dragon claws on his forehead. He was finding today’s science class very interesting. Miss Tess, the only teacher he actually liked, was talking about dragon evolution and how dragonfolk had developed from animal dragons. Drake liked Miss Tess because, unlike most teachers, she didn’t mind him asking questions.
Miss Tess explained how dragonfolk had begun on all four legs, covered from head to toe in scales to keep them safe and warm. Over time they had risen onto two legs, so they could use their front legs to do things, like make tools and eventually light fires. She handed out a picture of the process.
The first dragon in the picture was enormous and green with hard scales, flared nostrils, and giant claws on the end of its four legs. Its huge wings sprouted from its armoured back like giant shields. Gradually the dragon changed to become upright. The scales slowly dropped off, leaving soft pink fleshy arms, legs and belly.
The final picture showed dragonfolk as they were today — little pink bodies, heads with fluffy hair, skinny backs with small wings that were cut short and folded neatly, and long pink legs with small feet. They stood on these feet and used their arms and hands to manipulate, leaving behind the four-legged dragons of the past. The only other signs of dragon were the scales left on their backs where their wings joined and their claw-like nails on the end of their fingers, so strong and sharp that it took a lot of trouble to keep them trimmed.
“Miss Tess, it doesn’t look as if we’ve improved. We looked so tough in the beginning, as if we’d win any battle, and now we’re … kind of … small and wimpy looking,” said Drake. The whole class laughed, partly because Drake was particularly small and wimpy, and waited expectantly. Miss Tess smiled, placed her hand on her pointy chin, and thought for a moment.
“Drake, instead of survival of the fittest, it’s become about survival of the smartest. By going up onto two legs, we’ve freed our hands so that we can make tools. These tools have become modern technology. We couldn’t have done that if we were big tough dumb animals.”
Drake nodded and smiled. That made a lot of sense to him. He loved technology and wanted to work in technology when he got older, like his dad. His dad was the head of Thermodynamics, the largest and most successful technology company in all of Dragonland. Thermodynamics specialised in climate control — amongst other things they made clothes that kept you at exactly the right temperature. Drake was wearing one of these climate-controlled suits. His dad was an inventor and created the sort of things a super hero would use. Drake knew it wasn’t fashionable but he was so in awe of his father — in fact, he pretty much thought his father was a superhero — and so happy that his father had thought to send him the suit that he just didn’t care. It was a full body suit that clung to his skinny little body and set him apart from the other boys in their jeans and colourful t-shirts.
Drake was short and still waiting for the growth spurt his mother had promised. He had recently turned thirteen and was nearly at the end of his first year at Dragon High School. He had spiky dark hair that wouldn’t sit in place whatever he did and a sweet baby face that was popular amongst parents but not peers. He had his cheeks pinched by adults all the time and he was far too old for that sort of thing. Drake’s parents were divorced and Drake hardly ever saw his father. Even before the divorce Drake hardly saw his father. He was always working. You had to work hard to get to be the manager of a company like Thermodynamics. Drake understood this but he didn’t think his mother did.
“Drake, if we didn’t have technology we’d still be spending our lives running away from the Quintas,” explained Miss Tess. “We’d be so busy running away from them and foraging for food that we’d have no time for anything else.”
The Quintas were enormous meat-eating creatures, ten metres long, with teeth like blades and wings like sheet metal. They flew through the sky at incredible speeds and as if that wasn’t enough, the Quintas breathed fire — great balls of fire that projected ten metres ahead of them. Their strangely small arms and hands dropped from their chests, limp and evil-looking, occasionally rising to bat an insect away from their small beady eyes. Just the mention of the name Quinta sent cold chills down the spines of any dragonfolk.
“Instead, Thermodynamics has built a huge shield over the city. Instead of hiding behind rocks, watching our backs all the time, we enjoy our lives out in the glorious sunshine. We can even go out and bathe in the light of the moon at night, if we want to. In fact, Drake’s dad here was the one who designed the force field that protects us.”
The entire city of Dragonland was sheltered under a shield. This force field kept everything out, from Quintas to mosquitoes and even the harsh UV rays from the sun. It was a well-planned city with all the community amenities based in the centre and neat small houses with cozy court-yards circling around this. Commuter trains headed into the city from six different directions and circled around connecting the suburbs at three different points. It was a well organised city that comfortably housed the 15,000 or so dragonfolk who lived there. It almost seemed too well planned to be a city that had grown over the last few thousand years.
Beyond the city was a giant wasteland, which surrounded it from all sides. The wasteland was a desert full of sandstorms and scary animals like white lizards with blue forks for tongues and brown snakes with yellow bellies and little bells that grew out of their long scaly bodies. Not to mention the Quintas.
“I’d like to bathe in the moonlight with you, Miss Tess,” yelled out Barry Reed in his slow drawly voice. Miss Tess was young and attractive. She was slim but shapely with long blonde hair worn tied to one side. Her face was soft and gentle, without the harsh jutting jawline of many dragonfolk. She seemed to be unaware of how attractive she was, though, and if you peeked in the staffroom she mostly had her head stuck in a book, more interested in knowledge than finding a husband. That was unu
sual for a young dragonfolk woman.
Barry Reed was the class clown and bully, rolled into one big, puffy package. He was chubby, but definitely not fat, with fine hair cut so short he almost looked bald. He was tall and of solid build. He looked indestructible to Drake. Barry had a round face and very small lips, which was also unusual for a dragonfolk given the number of large teeth they had to fit into their mouths. His face around his mouth was swollen as if he permanently had his mouth full of food. But all in all, Barry wasn’t someone you’d look twice at in the street, which is partly why he made so much noise.
“You make me want to puke, Barry,” said Juniper, and Drake’s heart thumped as he turned to look at her. She really is wonderful, he thought, and nothing at all like all the other girls, even if she sometimes did stupid things like they did just to fit in. Juniper had fluffy brown hair down to her waist, which curled upwards on the ends. She was small for her age and skinny, like Drake. She always looked a little bit different — sometimes her socks didn‘t match, or she’d wear ribbons in her hair when all the other girls were wearing their hair loose. Her latest fashion-item was a pair of purple glasses where each lens was made to look like a dragon wing. She had found them in her grandmother’s bottom drawer.
“Go on then, fire breath … puke. I dare you,” taunted Barry. Juniper had a problem called Tourette Syndrome where, when she got nervous and at random other times she would breathe fire. Only some dragonfolk were left with the ability to breathe fire and it was considered extremely rude and barbaric to breathe fire in public. Anything that reminded dragonfolk that they were descended from animals was considered impolite. People didn’t know a lot about Tourette, and it was pretty rare, so many people just thought she was a very naughty little girl.
Before any more could come of this, the siren rang to announce that class had ended. Chairs, tables and feet screeched as the students picked up their belongings and moved out of the room. Drake sighed. Now he had to go to Geography, his least favourite class with his least favourite teacher, Mr Roche. The only good thing was that Juniper was also in his Geography class and Barry Reed wasn’t.
Drake waited back, casually packing up his books, until everyone had rushed out of the room and stormed into the hallway. Waiting a few minutes now meant that he could walk down the corridor without being squashed. He wandered down the hallway watching kids darting into rooms for their next class. He was going to be a bit late for Geography but he didn’t really care. Mr Roche would spend the first part of class revising what they did last week, anyway. That’s after he talked about himself for a while and what he and his wife had done on the weekend. As if anybody cared.
Drake opened his locker using his six digit code and then a thumbprint. He’d added the thumbprint scanner himself just for fun and not because there was anything at all secret in his locker. His locker couldn’t have been more boring: books, his lunchbox, sports clothes (which he often claimed he’d forgotten) and his computer (which he wasn’t allowed to take to class). On the back of the door, he had a picture of Dragonboy wearing a striking red cape and thigh-high rocket boots. Most other boys had sports heroes or movie stars but he couldn’t think of either that he liked enough to look at every day, so cartoon star Dragonboy it was.
Swapping his science books for his Geography books, Drake slammed the door shut and headed in the direction of the Geography room. He stopped off at the toilets on the way, forgetting that these were the tough kids’ toilets. As he walked in, he cursed himself for not remembering. There was Barry Reed and his gang smoking in the corner. The cigarette hanging out the side of his puffy mouth made him look like a serious thug. Where were teachers when you needed them? He sighed and tried to look indifferent as he sidled into the cubicle.
Just when Drake had relaxed a little thinking Barry hadn’t noticed him there was a loud thump on the door that made him jump at a very unfortunate time, leaving a wet patch on his thermal suit. He zipped up his suit, took a gulp of air and opened the cubicle door, trying to look his tallest.
“Hi doof, nice clothes,” Barry jeered. Drake hoped he wouldn’t look down and see the wet patch.
“Thanks, Barry. They’re very comfortable.” And then Barry looked him up and down, immediately seeing the dark wet circle.
“Look, doof wet himself,” Barry said to his two friends, Grollo and Hark, who looked like smaller imitations of Barry, with the same short spiked-up hair and black t-shirts with pictures of bands they had probably never heard of but sounded tough. Drake tried to look brave but his bottom lip quivered. He was upset that he’d have to walk in to Geography really late with a wet circle on his suit.
“Ohhhh, poor wittle Drake. Don’t worry; we can help you with that.” And before Drake had time to react Barry had pulled a knife out of his pocket, grabbed Drake and, pulling the suit material away from Drake’s skin, he sliced out the circle, leaving a big hole right under his crutch. Barry, Grollo and Hark laughed madly, doubling over, while Drake, after a moment’s shock, ran as fast as he could out of the toilets and back to his locker.
With tears in his eyes, Drake took his sports jumper and tied it around his middle, covering up the hole. Hopefully, no-one would notice, so long as Barry didn’t point it out to them. It was turning out to be a really bad day. If only he wasn’t so much of a wimp. So much for survival of the smartest — Miss Tess was wrong about that! The big tough dumb animal had won this round.
Drake felt heavy all over as he trudged to his Geography room. He peeked into the room and saw everyone was in their seats, listening to Roche the Cockroach, except for two people, Ronan and him. And Ronan was always wagging, so he didn’t count. He took a deep breath and slid open the door as quietly as he could. It wasn’t quietly enough because everybody turned around and looked at him. He sidled into his chair.
“Nice of you to join us, Drake,” said Roche. “You’ll be staying after class.” Roche grimaced at the end of his sentence as he realised that he would now have to spend extra time with Drake, whom he really didn’t like. Drake made him uncomfortable.
“Yes, Mr Roche,” said Drake, his head down as he got his books out onto the desk.
“Today we’re talking about the world being flat. There have been some ridiculous theories recently that the world is not flat. That it is in fact, round! How stupid. Can anyone tell me what would make someone think something so ridiculous?”
Everybody sat silently, looking toward the ground so that Mr Roche didn’t catch their eye. Drake was still shuffling with his books.
“Drake, you can tell me … since you’ve only just decided to grace us with your presence.” Drake hesitated for a moment but then not knowing how to get out of answering, told what he thought was the truth.
“Well, sir, there are some pretty notable scientists who believe that the world is round … and that beyond the wasteland, there is more land … and there may even be other types of life out there.”
“Cool,” said a chorus of voices. Mr Roche’s fist slammed down on the desk in front of Drake.
“For that smart response you will be staying in for detention after school and not at lunch time … only it will have to be tomorrow as I am getting my haircut tonight.”
Mr Roche continued talking and writing on the board, barely managing to turn his head to look at the class, let alone involve them in the lesson.
“As I was saying, our world is flat. What you can see is all there is. You look out in each direction and you see the edge of the world … either wasteland or ocean reaching out to the end, depending on which way you look. Beyond that there is nothingness … scary, horrible, terrifying nothingness. The opposite, my friends, to life.” He said the word life slowly while staring at Drake.
Drake started to drift off to sleep. Roche’s voice sounded like a dog with a sore throat and it was warm in the room. He awoke to a loud bang on the desk.
“Drake come up the front and write down the last five words I said on the board.” Drake jumped up, forge
tting about the hole in his suit, and his jumper fell down onto the floor. He walked up to the front, winding between the desks and wrote on the board, “Last five words I said.” He turned around and stood to the side of his handiwork. Everyone was laughing. He thought it was at his funny joke on Mr Roche and grinned proudly. Then he looked down and saw the big hole in his suit and his red undies showing through. He looked at the class all laughing and pointing. Juniper was sitting right at the front in the centre. Drake wanted the ground to eat him for dinner.
Juniper’s face was red and her expression strangely contorted. Then able to contain herself no more she let out a huge roar of fire straight towards Drake’s groin. The fire engulfed his middle and his suit designed not to melt onto skin, peeled away from his skin, stopping the fire from spreading but also leaving Drake naked around the middle. Completely naked.
The class was now in uproar. People were laughing so hard they had fallen off their chairs. Others seemed to be suffocating with laughter, gulping for air. Mr Roche was furious and yelling at the top of his lungs.
“You,” he said pointing to Juniper. “You have a detention tomorrow now too. And don’t give me any of that Tourette rubbish. Good excuse that is to indulge in your barbaric behaviour.” He then took his jacket off and hurled it at Drake. “Put this around you and keep it when you finish. I don’t want anything back that’s been there.” He pointed at Drake’s naked middle. “Class dismissed!” he said dramatically throwing his hands in the air and storming out.
Drake wrapped the jacket around his middle and ran straight home without even stopping to get his homework from his locker. Good thing his dad was visiting tonight. He really needed some support from him. He was relieved to see the two-storey cottage with its white picket fence and row of roses and chillies planted in turn.
Drake discovered when he arrived home that his mother had baked an enormous chocolate cake covered with marshmallows and chillies. It was Drake’s favourite but when he saw it his heart sank.
Drake the Dragonboy Page 1
