by Ellen Mae
Part Three: The Cause for Gratitude
Bob didn’t sleep at all that night. True, he didn’t try, too afraid that suits from the Department of the Investigation of Illegal Dragon Possession and Trade and the Department of Enforcement (or even the Department of the Arrest of an Attacker of Persons or Dragons) would swoop down on him like AirDragons. Billy and She slept like rocks, curled up together in a purring mass of fur and scales.
When the sun started rising, and Bob was again able to distinguish objects, he woke the two up. They yowled and whined in complaint, but Bob was persistent. They’d be out looking for him, and he wasn’t even out of the district. His face would be plastered all over the morning news, and as most people left for work around... now, Bob needed to make sure he was well away from them all.
They trudged through the streets that slowly but surely came to life with the hustling and bustling of Departmenters in various states of mind. Bob thought he spotted the receptionist girl from his department, the one who greeted him cheerfully every morning, and told him to go away every afternoon, and he was certain that his boss, Mr Connelly, walked past him, deep in conversation with Mr Willon. Bob was lucky they hadn’t spotted him.
“How cruel of you,” Billy told Bob, “waking us up at this hour. Poor She is terribly tired.” He stretched, claws out. She mirrored him. The hatchling had taken to the grouchy cat, and the traitorous grouch had taken to her.
“We need to get off the streets,” Bob said, glancing nervously around. It wasn’t uncommon for dragon hatchlings to wander around the streets – they were free beasts, after all – but if anyone noticed that She was in his care, or recognised him, there’d be trouble.
“Yes, we do.” Billy looked up and down the street. “But first, I’m hungry.”
“We can’t just stroll into a cafe and ask for a full breakfast; they’ll be looking for me!” Bob was hungry as well, but he couldn’t go into any store, in case he was recognised. Billy was too small to drag enough food and water for the three of them, and She couldn’t talk yet. Maybe he could wait a while, and find a small cafe where there was no TV, and hope the cashier was living in the stone ages.
“Exactly,” Billy said. “They’ll be looking for you, Bob, and only you. I’m just a lost kitty, hungry and afraid.” With that, he stalked off to the nearest cafe, for there were many, and went inside.
He was right, of course. The suits would be searching for Bob, not Billy. The cat would be safe, She would be safe, and Bob would be locked up for being in possession of a dragon and for attacking the suits. Departmenters and early birds walked up and down the street, while Bob sat and wondered what on earth had compelled him to take the dragon.
She sniffed at the people as they walked past, to the amusement of some, and annoyance of others. A young girl giggled and patted She on the head, who licked her hand in return, before the girl ran off to her mother.
A filthy boy in torn clothes that looked like rags sat down next to Bob, who stiffened. The boy stank of filth and body odour, with scraggly brown hair that was so knotted it didn’t seem quite as long as Bob imagined it would be. He’d probably do well in the Department of the Care and Supervision of Dragon Hatchlings, working alongside the receptionist there. “Are ye homeless?” the boy asked. He watched Bob curiously. “I’m homeless,” he went on, scratching his arm (Bob wouldn’t be surprised if the boy had fleas), “because me mam got locked up. She was sellin’ WhetStones, ‘cause she couldn’t pay for the house, but she got caught. I never had a pa. Ma won’t be gettin’ out fer a while, ‘cause she said so, but I can look afta meself. Can ye look afta yerself?”
Bob didn’t care to think about being locked up for selling WhetStones, nor did he care what the boy had to say. He wondered how long he’d get for having She. Longer than the boy’s mother, he guessed. When he didn’t answer, though, the boy went on. “Did ye mam get arrested for sellin’ stuff?” He took the silence as a ‘no’. “Well what about ye pa? Did ye have a pa? I never, but I told ye that already.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Bob asked.
The boy scowled. “I told ye, I’m homeless, like you!”
“I’m not homeless, I’m waiting for my cat!”
“Ye cat?” The boy kept scratching his arm, as though there was an itch that just wouldn’t go away. “I never had no cat, or no life-companion. Well, mam reckoned I had one when I were born, but I ain’t ever seen it, cause mam said it drowned when we was swimmin’ in someone’s pool, but we couldn’t swim. Is that dragon yours? Ye know ye not s’posed to have dragons. Ye’ll get arrested for that, ye know. Me mam had a cousin, and ‘e got arrested, cause ‘e had a dragon. If ye get arrested, will ye tell me mam I’m alive?”
“I don’t think they put men in the same prison as women...”
“So it is yer dragon? Can I touch it? Wha’s its name? Ye know they’ll be lookin’ fer ye?”
“I know,” Bob said. The boy was infuriatingly annoying. He’d never had much to do with children, and this kid was only heightening his aversion to them. It was small wonder he was homeless. Bob thought he’d throw the kid out if they lived together.
“Well, well, well, what’s this?” Billy drawled. He was back from the cafe, looking considerably happier. He studied the boy evenly. “Why, I do believe you’ve made yourself a friend, Robert. My name is Billius Trent Wentworth the Third, but you may call me Billy, and this is Robert Karson. Perhaps you’ve seen him on the news (you do own a television, right? Oh, you’re homeless? Well so is Robert.) and that is She. I did not name her, I’m proud to admit. If I did, her name would be much more tasteful.”
“I’m Billy too, but ye can call me Lou, ‘cause some man did, ‘cause he reckoned I smell like a loo. I don’t reckon I smell. Do ye think I smell?”
“It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Lou,” Billy told him, ignoring the question. He turned to Bob. “It is wonderful to see that the criminal life is prompting you to make friends, but is now really the time?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Bob snapped. Lou watched the two, his cobalt eyes lighting up.
“Are we friends now?” Lou asked. “Can I show ye where I sleep? ‘Cause we’re friends. Do ye have any money? I’m a wee bit hungry. If ye homeless, ye must be hungry too, right?” He jumped up, excited, and grabbed Bob by the arm. “C’mon, if I show ye me sleeping place, ye havta give me money, right?”
“I don’t want to...” Bob started, but Lou was already dragging him off, and Billy and She trailed behind him. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.
And so it was, Robert Karson found himself with a friend.
