The Boy Who Grew Dragons

by Andy Shepherd

  Liam screwed up his nose. ‘Ew, miss, something smells.’ He looked in my direction. ‘And I think it might be coming from over there.’

  Everyone turned to look at me.

  It was one of those times you wish you had a pop-up black hole in your pocket, ready to swallow you up.

  ‘I think Tomas has had an accident, miss,’ he said, pretending to whisper behind his hand but actually saying it loud enough for Class 3 to hear. Class 3 were two doors away. Liam was just loving this.

  I looked to Ted and Kai but even they were backing away. I stuffed the shorts back inside my bag, cringing.

  While the rest of the class bundled out towards the field I was sent to lost property to find some spare kit. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had a different surname, but as it was, it was like handing Liam a free gift. That’s me stuck with ‘Whiffy Liffy’ for the rest of my life.

  On Mondays Grandad picked me up from school. But when he saw me and asked how my day had been I just shrugged. I couldn’t exactly tell him about the dragon-poo incident, and we’d lost so spectacularly in the rounders match I just wanted to forget the whole day.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about the garden,’ Grandad said. ‘We need to work out what’s going where. Got to get the right conditions for each plant or they won’t thrive. What do you say? Fancy coming over and helping me plan it out?’

  ‘Er … can I come tomorrow?’ I said, thinking of how I really just wanted to get home to Flicker.

  As we walked on through the park, Grandad started telling me about how we were going to mark out the garden into areas. But I was too distracted to listen properly. I kept thinking about the burst dragon fruits I’d seen under the tree. Had more dragons really hatched? Could there be six dragons hiding out in our town? It seemed so unlikely. I mean, with the amount of mess my one little dragon was wreaking, if there was a whole pack of them out there, surely the news would be full of explosions and unexplained fires? People noticed stuff like that, didn’t they?

  The nagging feeling I’d had during lessons grew even worse the closer I got to home. I started walking more quickly, my brain going over and over everything I’d done that morning. And then it landed on me like a cosmic cowpat – the thing I hadn’t done. I grabbed the front-door key from Grandad’s hand and ran, my panic rising. Because the one thing I’d forgotten to do was close my bedroom window!

  At home, my fingers fumbled with the lock. I raced up the stairs and flung open the door to my bedroom. When I looked inside it wasn’t the shredded curtain, or the dragon poo on my computer, that I noticed first. It was Flicker, perched on the windowsill – at the open window. For two days I’d had the coolest pet in the world. Two days. And now I was about to lose him. I stood frozen to the spot.

  ‘Tomas,’ Grandad called, coming up the stairs, ‘you OK? Your pants on fire or summat?’

  He paused halfway up and looked through the banisters towards my door. I quickly pulled it shut behind me.

  ‘Nah, just checking Tomtom hadn’t got in my room again,’ I said. But my voice was far too squeaky to sound casual.

  He looked about to quiz me but then said, ‘Righto. I guess every man’s entitled to his secrets – hey, Chipstick?’ He gave me a wink. ‘I’m just downstairs if you need me. I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’

  ‘Yeah. Great. Thanks. Good idea,’ I said, already disappearing back into my room.

  With the bedroom door safely closed, I turned to face the little dragon. He was still on the windowsill, staring up at the sky, his tail flicking from side to side.

  ‘Flicker,’ I whispered desperately.

  He turned. I reached out a hand towards him, but he launched into the air.

  For a heart-stopping moment I watched him soar up, up and away. I’d only ever let him fly inside the house. Now, sensing freedom, he was going to simply fly away and leave me. I raced over to the window, my eyes locked on the little shape flitting about among the leaves of the trees at the end of the garden. After a few agonising minutes he fluttered towards the tree in next door’s garden, the one nearest my window. He perched on a branch, his diamond eyes fixed on me.

  I held my breath to see what he would do next. I waited, my heart ready to crack. Willing him to come back to me. Terrified he wouldn’t.

  Then, stretching his wings and with his eyes still locked on mine, Flicker flew back in through the window and settled on my shoulder.

  And it felt like a firework display was going off inside me.

  I knew if I was going to look after Flicker properly I needed to know more about dragons and more about the dragon-fruit tree. Once Mum and Dad were back and Grandad had left, I sat down at the laptop. Just to warn you here, computers and dragon poo really don’t mix – I’d managed to clean the smelly stuff off before it ignited, but the heat must have fried the keyboard. I grimaced, closed the lid and headed downstairs to use Dad’s work computer.

  But I found him staring at a blank screen, muttering things that it was a good job Lolli wasn’t near enough to hear.

  ‘Tomas,’ Mum called, ‘I’m just taking Charlotte to the library. We won’t be long. Why don’t you help your dad while we’re gone?’

  I looked at Dad’s face, scrunched up in fury, and the screwdriver he was waving threateningly at the back of the laptop. And I backed away.

  ‘Actually, Mum, I’ve got some homework I need to research. The library’s just the place I need to be.’

  When she wasn’t standing in our school playground at lunchtimes, Mrs Olive also worked at the village library.

  She smiled as I walked in. ‘Lovely to see you, Tomas. And your little friend of course.’

  For a second I thought she meant Flicker and my hand shot to my hoodie pocket, but he was still hidden, curled up and fast asleep. Then I realised Mrs Olive was smiling at Lolli, who was struggling her way out of the buggy.

  I smiled back, relieved.

  The village library is tiny really, not like the big town library. But you can fill in these request forms and get books sent from any of the other libraries in the area.

  ‘Little bit of magic,’ Mrs Olive always says. ‘I can summon your book with one click.’ I got the feeling Mrs Olive liked the idea that the world was a little bit magic.

  ‘Me-wan-dagon me-wan-dagon,’ Lolli gabbled as she tottered in behind, her hands reaching for me.

  Mum looked frazzled, which I guess is what walking half a mile with a demanding two-year-old does to you.

  ‘What do you want now, Charlotte?’ Mum said, feebly dangling a series of half-chewed toys, a biscuit and a carton of juice in front of her.

  Lolli started pulling at my pocket and I tried to push her hands away.

  ‘Mewanna dagon,’ she insisted.

  I backed away, aware that both Mum and Mrs Olive were staring at me now.

  ‘Whatever it is, just give it to her,’ Mum pleaded, obviously fearing a Lolli meltdown.

  If I wasn’t careful this was not going to end well. I bent down to my little sister and whispered in her ear, ‘Flicker’s sleeping.’

  It was enough to make her let go of my pocket. But I could feel Flicker stirring at all the tugging, and when Lolli saw my pocket wriggle she announced, ‘Me sing lullyby peas.’

  Trying my best to smile sweetly at the adults, I took Lolli’s hand and led her down to the far end of the library. Mrs Olive’s husband had made this kid-sized train you could sit in, with carriages full of picture books and cuddly toys. I settled Lolli on a cushion and lifted Flicker out of my pocket. He gave a little shudder and his scales rippled. But he still looked half asleep as he lowered his head and tucked in his wings.

  Lolli grinned and clapped her hands. ‘Lolliby lullyby,’ she giggled. ‘Lolly byebye!’

  I put the little dragon on her lap and he curled up quite happily. She started humming and flicking through the pages of a book. A little ripple of turquoise flashed along Flicker’s body from snout to tail. It was like a contented purr in colour. He�
��d be asleep again in no time. I left them to it. I had research to do.

  Sadly there was only one computer and there was a sign on it saying it was out of order.

  Mrs Olive saw me staring at it.

  ‘Sorry, Tomas, there was a bit of an incident with a carton of juice last story-time. I expect you can find what you need in these though.’ She swept her hand towards the shelves of books and smiled.

  I nodded.

  It didn’t take me long. The mythology section had a whole shelf on dragons. I grabbed an armful of books and headed over to one of the comfy chairs opposite the library desk. Mrs Olive had roped Mum into helping her sort some new books and I watched as they disappeared into the stockroom.

  I gave a quick glance down to the train, where Lolli was babbling away, her hand pointing to the pictures in the book as if she was telling herself – and Flicker – the story.

  Then I curled up in the chair and leafed through the first book. It was all about different types of dragon. I never knew there were so many. Every country seemed to have its own particular type. Some were snake-like with no wings, and others had three heads. In some places they were seen as terrible fire-breathing monsters, while in others they were actually believed to protect people.

  My head was so far away in those distant lands that I didn’t notice what was happening down the far end of the library. At least, not until the screaming started.

  I recognised the supersonic scream immediately. It was unmistakably Lolli-sized. I leaped up and saw her standing on the train, arms grabbing for the book she’d been looking at. Another child had it clutched to her chest with an equally determined scowl on her face. A lady with a flowery skirt stood between them, trying to make peace.

  ‘Now then, my little peaches, why don’t we have a story all together?’

  I looked around for Mum and saw her coming out of the store cupboard with her arms full of books. I could see she was thinking the same as me. A story wasn’t going to work with Lolli at this point. And I couldn’t say I blamed her. After all, the girl had obviously snatched the book away from her in the first place.

  I sprinted down there. The flowery lady was insisting on story time and was just about to take a seat, squashing her flowery bottom into the far-too-small-for-it train. Lolli’s next scream smashed the sound barrier. And I suddenly saw why. In among the cuddly toys I spotted a scaly head with two little horns peeking out. The woman was just about to flatten poor Flicker!

  In a heroic moment – or maybe it was just the reflexes of an angry and alarmed two-year-old – Lolli bent over and rammed the lady off the train like a stampeding baby rhino.

  There was a screech from the lady as she tumbled forward, and then a crash as the shelf she staggered into went flying. Books scattered across the carpet and the air filled with the cries of Mum and Mrs Olive as they descended on the book corner to rescue her.

  While the adults stumbled around trying to help the woman to her feet, I saw Lolli point at the picture book. As I watched, it rose up into the air and started to fly across the library, banging into shelves and ceiling lights as Flicker, whose wings were making the open pages flap noisily, struggled to find the exit.

  The little girl who had grabbed the book stood there watching, her mouth forming a little round ‘O’ as she tried to make sense of the flip-flop-flapping book above her. And when Lolli pointed a grubby finger at her, she backed away as if she feared she might be next to fly across the room.

  Finally Flicker headed straight for the open door. I dashed after the flying book and was just in time to see it smack straight into Liam Sawston’s head.

  He staggered on the steps and dropped his bike, nursing the lump that was already bulging on his forehead. His eyes shot to the book, which had fallen to the floor. I bet poor Flicker was just as stunned.

  ‘You threw that at my head. I’m gonna get you for that!’

  ‘I didn’t,’ I stammered. ‘Honest.’

  I could see Liam’s anger growing. I wouldn’t have been surprised if his T-shirt had split open and shown green muscles rippling underneath. It was definitely an Incredible Hulk moment. And as he hulked up, I seemed to shrink even smaller than usual.

  He reached forward to grab the book, presumably to fling it back at me. I glanced down and noticed it wasn’t moving. What if Flicker was hurt? Either way, I couldn’t let Liam find him. I shut my eyes and imagined myself turning red hot, like an ember, like a spark about to explode.

  And I did what Lolli had done. I became a rhino and charged. The trouble is, with my eyes shut my manoeuvre was less successful than Lolli’s. Liam just sidestepped and I ended up tripping over his bike and crashing head first into a shrub. Luckily for me, he had sidestepped into something squelchy and he landed in an equally undignified heap.

  ‘Whatever’s going on?’ Mrs Olive cried, striding towards us.

  She bent down, her hand reaching for the book. My arm shot out. ‘Wait,’ I cried.

  It was too late. She lifted it up as I sat there with leaves and ladybirds in my hair, powerless to stop her.

  But Flicker was nowhere to be seen! I think the sigh of relief that came out of me was probably worthy of a hurricane rating. Definitely enough to knock someone’s hat off anyway.

  ‘I hope you haven’t been throwing my books around,’ Mrs Olive continued. If there was one thing that would turn sweet Mrs O into your worst nightmare it was mistreating books. This was something Liam had been known to do so her attention was focused directly on him. Unfair I know, but I wasn’t about to start feeling sorry for him.

  Liam glared at me, scraping what I realised must be dragon poo off his trainer, then grabbed his bike and staggered away down the street. As he passed under one of the trees he yelped and his hand shot to his head. I could just make out a little flitting shape among the leaves. I grinned. It looked like Flicker had dropped a final parting gift on him. The icing on the cake, you might say.

  Mum had already stormed ahead with Lolli, who was strapped into her buggy and happily occupied with a book and a rice cake the size of her head. As I trailed slowly home I tucked my hand in my pocket and scratched Flicker along the ridges of his back. He rumbled under my hand, contented.

  He didn’t seem to have grown at all, despite the fact he was eating around thirty-three square meals a day. He was always nibbling something. After all the extra broccoli I was sneaking off my plate and getting him to dispose of, he still sat comfortably on my hand. Even so, I couldn’t help drifting back into the dream of us flying together. Unfortunately the dream didn’t last long.

  ‘Oi, lame brain.’

  I stopped in my tracks as Liam raced up on his bike and skidded to a halt in front of me. He planted himself on the pavement, blocking my way.

  ‘I’ve been watching you, you and those other meebas.’

  So, I’m guessing by now you’re getting a picture of Liam? Big nose for barging into other people’s business, stirs up trouble like he’s frothing a milkshake, acts like he owns the world.

  Well, he also has his own special brand of mean nicknames. Sadly for him, a lot of them don’t actually make sense and so aren’t as cutting as he’d probably like them to be. Take ‘meeba’ for instance. What I think he’s actually going for is ‘amoeba’. An amoeba is a small single-celled organism without a brain. The fact he thinks it’s ‘a meeba, two meebas’ just shows who’s really lacking a brain round here.

  ‘I’ve seen you,’ he sneered.

  I curled my hand around Flicker, who seemed to have fallen asleep in my pocket. His hot breath sent little shivers of warmth right through me. It felt like even though he was tiny and asleep, he was protecting me.

  ‘Well, that’s terrific,’ I said.

  This is the point where Ted might have elbowed me into shutting up. But without him around, and with a dragon in my pocket, I just couldn’t help myself.

  ‘I see you too. Bit old for peekaboo, aren’t we?’

  You could almost see the steam puffi
ng from Liam’s ears when I said it.

  ‘Watch it, ant-boy, or I’ll squish you like the insect you are. You know what I’m talking about. You’re up to something. First at school, and then at the library. You’re being weird, even for you.’

  ‘Nope, just the usual amount of weird.’ I grinned.

  He narrowed his eyes and stepped towards me, leaning close. I suddenly wished Ted’s elbow had been there after all. I had a feeling Liam was about to turn nasty.

  ‘Well, I say you’re being extra weird. And I’m going to find out what you’re up to.’

  He reached out and shoved me, and I stumbled into a tree.

  ‘And it’ll be easy cos I can smell you coming a mile away, Whiffy. You’re stinkier than those stink bombs my brother got me last Christmas.’

  I rubbed my arm, feeling the bruise. And then my heart did that skippy thing like when Dad drives too fast over a speed bump. What if being slammed into the tree had crushed Flicker? My hand automatically reached for my pocket and Liam’s eyes followed.

  ‘What have you got in there?’ he sneered.

  I felt Flicker moving. He was OK! But the relief didn’t last, as I felt the little dragon pushing against my hand, trying to get out. I curled my fingers around his body, desperately hoping it might settle him down.

  ‘Nothing. Look, I’m not up to anything,’ I said quickly. But I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, and my hands were getting sticky with sweat. And it wasn’t just from panicking about Flicker being seen; I could feel the dragon heating up too. He was as unhappy about getting shoved as I was. I couldn’t risk him being seen, but the more panicky I felt, the hotter he got. I needed a distraction – and quick!

  ‘Well?’ Liam said as he flicked a slug from the top of a wall in my direction. It landed on my top so, carefully, I lifted it off to the safety of a nearby bush. Poor little thing. I’m not saying I love slugs, but it had just been minding its own business.