There's a Dragon in my Dinner! Read online

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s a big book.”

  “All books look big to me,” said Pan.

  “I found it in our attic,” said Min. “It’s been in our family for generations. It’s one of the oldest Chinese books in existence, containing untold secrets—”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Why does it have a barcode on the back? And it’s written in English…”

  “It’s uh … mystical…”

  “It still has a ‘Buy One Get One Free’ sticker on the front,” I said, pointing.

  “Fine, then,” Min said, folding her arms. “We got it a few years ago from the bargain bookshop on the high street. But I’m telling you, it has everything, even a section about Mini-Dragons. That’s how I knew what he was.”

  “His name’s Pan,” I said, flipping through the book.

  “Nice to meet you, Pan,” Min said. “I don’t know why I was so scared of you, you’re actually quite handsome up close.”

  “I like her already,” beamed Pan, puffing out his tiny chest.

  “Here’s the bit about Mini-Dragons,” I said.

  “No, we’re not!” protested Pan.

  “There’s also a bit about what they eat,” said Min as I turned the page.

  “Mini-Dragons: What they eat and what they do not eat,” I said.

  “Title’s a bit of a mouthful,” grinned Pan.

  “What’s a prawn cracker?” asked Pan.

  “I thought you might ask that,” said Min, handing him the brown paper bag. From it Pan took out a white disc, that was almost the length of his entire body. He gave it a few sniffs before nibbling a bit off the edge.

  Pan’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. He dived into the bag.

  “Enjoy?” I asked when the crunching had finally stopped. But there was no reply. I peeked into the bag to find Pan curled up inside, fast asleep. I looked back at the book.

  It’s better than him eating my school clothes, I thought. I lifted Pan out of the bag and gently placed him inside my sock drawer.

  “Thanks for this, Min,” I said, returning to the book.

  “No problem. You might as well hang on to it,” she said. “Is that where he sleeps then, in your sock drawer?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking around the room. “It’s just … do you think your bedroom is a good place for him?”

  “At first I didn’t,” I admitted. “After he had a run-in with our cat and then my sister, but now he keeps the door shut and he’s fine.”

  “So he’s here all day by himself?” asked Min.

  I didn’t like Pan being cooped up all day, either, but what else could I do?

  “Pan’s happy staying here,” I said, “and I love having him around. Which other kid has something as cool as a Mini-Dragon to come home to?”

  “All right, as long as you know what you’re doing,” she said, before pointing at a line in the book. “But I think you ought to keep that in mind.”

  The line read:

  “I didn’t think he’d go through all those crackers so fast,” said Min as I walked her to the door. “I’ll bring some to school tomorrow for you. I’d love to see him again, though.”

  “Yeah, of course,” I said. “Hey, you should come to my birthday party on Saturday. You can keep him amused while I try out my awesome new scooter.”

  “Sure, I don’t mind Mini-Dragon-sitting for a bit,” she laughed.

  Letting other people know about Pan seemed to have some advantages after all. Maybe I should have told… Oh no!

  JAYDEN!

  I opened the front door for Min just as Jayden was about to ring the bell.

  “Where have you been?” he asked. “I was waiting at the park for ages!”

  Before I could open my mouth, Jayden clapped eyes on Min.

  “Oh, I see what’s going on…” he said.

  “You do?” I asked, doubting very much that he did.

  “Yeah. You’ve got yourself a girlfriend,” he said.

  My face went bright red.

  Min just laughed. “He wishes,” she said.

  “No, I don’t!” I said. “And no, she isn’t.”

  “That explains why you’ve been chasing her around the past few days,” said Jayden. “You know, you could have told me. I would have been cool with it. I’m supposed to be your best friend, or did you forget that, too?”

  He was right, I should have told him. Not about Min, but about Pan, from the start. And I would have told him then if he’d hung around. But after a final, furious look, he was gone.

  The next day at school, I finally told Jayden everything.

  Of course he didn’t believe me.

  “Seriously?” he said. “That’s the best you could come up with? A dragon in your dinner? Give me a break, Eric.”

  “It’s true!” I said. “I can prove it. Tomorrow, at my birthday party, I’ll show you. You’re still coming, right?”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’ll be there.”

  After dinner that evening, Pan and I settled down to play some video games. Mini-Dragons really are excellent at them. I lost every game, but I didn’t care. Things were finally starting to go right:

  1. Min wasn’t going to hand Pan over to the government.

  2. I now knew what Mini-Dragons ate and had a reliable supplier of prawn crackers.

  3. Once Jayden saw Pan he’d know I was telling him the truth.

  4. I hadn’t heard a peep from Toby.

  5. Best of all, tomorrow was my birthday and I would finally be getting my Thunderbolt scooter. After all, I was only on Strike Two.

  My mind had been so preoccupied that I had barely had time to look forward to my birthday, but now I couldn’t wait. Party, cake, Thunderbolt! Maybe all at the same time!

  “This is too easy,” said Pan, after winning another game. He put aside his controller. “Oh, hey, I meant to tell you, I’ve discovered I can burp the alphabet.”

  I sat up straight. Pan had my attention.

  “Go on, then,” I said.

  A small flash of light shot out of Pan’s mouth, along with:

  BUUUUUURRRRR-AAAAAAA-PPPPPPPPPP!

  Then another blast of fire followed by:

  BUUUUUURRRRR-BBBBBBB-PPPPPPPPPP!

  Pan wasn’t just burping the alphabet – he was flame-burping the alphabet.

  And. It. Was. Hilarious.

  BUUUUUURRRRR-CCCCCCC-PPPPPPPPPP!

  Well, you get the picture.

  I was rolling around on the sofa laughing when I noticed Pusskin creeping past, heading for Pan. But she seemed to have a sudden change of heart when the letter U came within a whisker of burning off her whiskers.

  “Somehow I don’t think she’ll be bothering you any more,” I said through snorts of laughter, as a terrified Pusskin backed away.

  “Eric!” shouted Dad from upstairs. “Can you bring up my tactics? I think I left them in the living room.”

  I grabbed a thick pile of paper from the coffee table.

  But just at that moment, Pan burped the letter V…

  …which caused Pusskin to panic and bolt towards the door…

  …but she smacked straight into the back of my legs instead…

  …causing me to fall over…

  …flinging the paper into the air…

  …right into the path of Pan…

  …at the moment he burped the letter W.

  The letter W is a tricky letter at the best of times, so I wasn’t surprised that a flame burp required extra effort.

  You can say this for dragon breath – it doesn’t just set things on fire. It obliterates them. There wasn’t a shred of Dad’s tactics left.

  “Months of hard work, gone,” wept Dad, after I broke the news to him…

  The news that I had taken his tactics to school to show everyone but accidentally lost them on the way there. Yes, it was a ridiculous story, but not quite as ridiculous as telling him that a Mini-Dragon that I fou
nd in a Chinese takeaway box had accidentally incinerated them while flame-burping the alphabet.

  “Well, congratulations, Eric, you’ve done it,” said Dad. “STRIKE THREE! No scooter. And the party’s cancelled, too.”

  “We can’t cancel the party,” said Mum in her calm yoga voice, making circular motions with her hands while doing the splits. “Everyone’s RSVP’d.”

  Dad looked dumbfounded. “SO?”

  “It’s short notice – it’s the night before!”

  “I don’t care!” said Dad.

  “We’ve paid for everything.”

  “Ah,” said Dad. Mum was finally speaking his language. “Well, in that case, fine, the party still goes ahead. But no scooter. Not now, not ever. Thanks to you, Eric, the Kippers will almost certainly lose tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Monty,” sighed Mum. “That’ll be the reason.”

  “Sorry about your scooter,” said Pan.

  I turned over in bed, ignoring him.

  “Did you hear me, Eric?” asked Pan. “I said sorry. About the scooter? Can you hear me? Has something happened to your hearing?

  “Eric?

  “Eric?

  “Eric?

  “Eric?

  “Eric?”

  “I can hear you, Pan!” I snapped. “I’m trying to ignore you.”

  “Oh,” said Pan. “Why?”

  “Why?” I replied. “Because thanks to you the one thing I’ve wanted for months is probably on its way back to the shops as we speak. That’s why I’m ignoring you. Now, leave me alone.”

  “But it was just an accident,” said Pan. “I didn’t mean to do it. And you did ask me to do the flame-burping.”

  I knew Pan was right. It wasn’t his fault. But I was so mad about not getting my scooter that I wasn’t thinking straight. I knew I’d have to apologize, but I didn’t want to do it then. It could wait till the morning.

  After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, I finally fell asleep.

  When I woke up the next morning, Pan wasn’t there. I checked the sock drawer, unfolding every pair of socks in case he had got himself stuck again. I looked under the bed, in my wardrobe, checked every last inch of my room.

  I searched the whole house but couldn’t find him.

  “Happy birthday, Eric,” said Mum at breakfast, balancing on her arms with her legs next to her ears. With a sudden jerk, she flipped up into the air and landed on both feet, giving me a huge hug and kiss.

  “‘Appy bird-day,” said Posy, also demanding a hug.

  Even though I was supposed to be in trouble, Mum had made me my all-time favourite breakfast – waffles, bacon, waffles, sausages and waffles. But I was in no mood to eat.

  “Thanks, Mum. Is Dad still mad at me?”

  “Oh, you know your father, he doesn’t hold grudges. Except against football referees.”

  “Is he at the game now?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he left before you were up,” she said. “But don’t worry, he’ll be back in time for the party. Speaking of which, get that down you, I’ll need you to give me a hand setting things up.”

  After barely touching my breakfast, I went outside and helped Mum. This mainly involved blowing up balloons and carrying out dozens of plates to the buffet table. At first glance, there seemed to be way more food than you would need for the amount of kids invited. But then I remembered Toby was coming. There were sausage rolls, sandwiches, pizza, crisps, cakes, jelly, biscuits and mini-sausages. Or just sausages if you’re Pan. Ha! I’d have to tell him that joke. If I could find him.

  Jayden was one of the last to arrive.

  “Jayden! You came!”

  “Yeah, well, I said I would,” said Jayden. He handed me a shiny blue box with an envelope attached to it. I opened the card first. It read: Happy Birthday Eric, From J

  Straight to the point, that’s what I liked about Jayden’s cards. I tore off the wrapping paper next and opened the cardboard box. Inside it was:

  A Slug Man action figure in a box

  (complete with Slime Shooter accessory)

  A big box of toffees

  A Thunderbolt user’s manual

  A Slug Man T-shirt

  “Wow, thanks, Jayden,” I said.

  Jayden nodded. He started making a show of looking around the garden.

  “So, where is he, then, this dragon of yours?” he asked.

  I looked away. “Er, well, the thing is … he’s sort of gone missing.”

  Jayden rolled his eyes. “What a surprise. Oh, look, here’s your girlfriend.”

  Min had arrived. “Happy birthday, Eric. This is for you,” she said, handing over a shiny silver package. She held up a brown paper bag. “And this is for— Oh…” She broke off, realizing Jayden was standing there.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “I’ve told him about Pan. He doesn’t believe me, though.”

  “Oh,” said Min. “Well, why don’t you just show him?”

  “The dragon’s not here,” said Jayden sarcastically.

  Min looked concerned. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “We had an argument last night… I thought he might just be keeping out of my way, but now I’m starting to worry he might have run off.”

  “What did you argue about?” asked Min.

  I explained to them what had happened with my dad and the scooter.

  “That scooter you want,” said Jayden. “It’s blue, right?”

  “Electric blue,” I corrected. “But yeah.”

  “Jet black handles?” asked Jayden.

  “Yeah, but…”

  “And a yellow lightning bolt running up the side?” said Jayden.

  “Yes, but I’m not getting it, so can you please stop going on about it,” I said.

  “OK,” said Jayden, pointing behind me. “It’s just, I wonder what your dad’s planning on doing with that one.”

  “I er… What?” I said, turning around to see Dad with his Kippers strip on, zipping towards us on a Thunderbolt scooter and grinning from ear to ear.

  “Doesn’t look that angry to me,” said Jayden.

  “Eric, we did it!” shouted Dad, throwing his arms around me.

  “Did what?” I asked nervously.

  “We won! The Kippers actually won a game! And it’s all thanks to you.”

  Have you ever had a moment where it seemed like the whole world has gone mad except you? This was one of those moments. Or maybe I was the one who had gone mad, but either way I had no idea what my dad was banging on about.

  “What do you mean, it’s all thanks to me?”

  Dad slapped Jayden on the back. “Ha! Would you look at him, pretending he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “What did he do, Mr Crisp?” asked Jayden.

  “What did he do?” asked Dad. “Why, he only came up with one of the greatest football strategies of all time.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  My dad waved his hand as if moving it over an invisible pitch. “So there we were, fifteen goals down and it was only half-time. I was looking for my half-time orange in my bag when I found a pile of paper I didn’t even know was in there. I took it out and it’s got all these diagrams and instructions on it. I quickly realized that they’re tactics.”

  “And you thought they were from me?” I asked.

  “Well, it was pretty obvious,” he said. “I mean, who else would have felt so bad about destroying the originals to go to all the trouble of writing new ones?”

  “Yeah, who else?” I said, looking at Min.

  “Though I must say your handwriting certainly seems to have improved. Anyway, since I didn’t have any better ideas, I thought, why not give them a try? We finished the game 16–15!”

  “You actually won?” I asked.

  “Thanks to you,” said Dad again. “All this time I thought you weren’t interested in football and it turns out you’re a tactical genius. I can’t believe no one else has ever thought to play with eleven st
rikers. It makes so much sense when you think about it. Anyway, it’s only fair that you be rewarded.” Dad handed me the scooter. “Happy birthday.”

  “Wow! Thanks, Dad!” I cried.

  Thanks Pan, more like.

  “We have to find Pan,” I said. “Right now.”

  “Where could he be?” asked Min.

  “I don’t know. He could be anywhere.”

  “Look…” said Jayden. “I’m not saying I believe you … but look around. Isn’t there something wrong with this scene?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, looking out over the rest of the party.

  Dad was busy bragging about his victory. Mum was using her yoga skills to beat everyone at Twister. Kids were running about playing. Then my eyes drifted over to the buffet table and I saw what Jayden meant.

  Or, rather, didn’t see it.

  “What is it?” said Min.

  “There’s a table over there full of crisps, sweets, cake and fizzy drinks,” I said.

  “Yeah … so?” said Min.

  Jayden checked his watch. “Well, every year, by this time, most of that stuff would already be gone.”

  “So, what’s different this year?” she asked.

  Jayden and I looked at each other, then said, “No Toby!”

  “Pan!” I cried as the three of us burst unannounced into Toby’s bedroom. Toby was nowhere to be seen, but Pan was sitting in the middle of the floor, tied to a tiny wooden chair that I recognized from Toby’s dolls’ house (though Toby hates that name – he insists it’s a Toy Mansion).

  “Eric!” shouted Pan, looking relieved. “Thank goodness you’re here. Mini-Dragons are excellent at staying calm under pressure, but I’m not sure I could take another five minutes of Toby.”

  “What’s he done to you?” I said, clenching my fists.