The Sasquatch Escape (The Imaginary Veterinary) (6 page)

“Pearl? What are you doing?”

“Hi, Mom. I’m talking to my new friend, Ben.”

Mrs. Petal smiled. She had a big gap between her front teeth, too. “Hello, Ben. You must be Abe’s grandson. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hello,” Ben said.

“I bet it’s exciting to live in Los Angeles. This town must seem very boring to you.”

Ben shrugged. “Well…”

“Mom, can I go for a walk with Ben?”

Mrs. Petal pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “I guess so. But you still have chores, so be back before we close.”

“Okay,” Pearl answered. She yanked the napkin out of her collar and tossed it into the Dollar Store. Then she grabbed Ben’s arm and pulled him down the sidewalk.

“Don’t get into trouble,” Mrs. Petal called. “
Please
don’t get into trouble.”

“I won’t,” Pearl called back. Then she grumbled, “Everyone always thinks I’m going to get into trouble.”

The scent of french fries and grilled burgers
drifted out the door of the Buttonville Diner as the kids passed by. “Maybe the baby dragon fell out of the big dragon’s nest,” Pearl said as they hurried down Main Street. “Then your grandpa’s cat found it.”

“Maybe,” Ben said, though the baby seemed very small to have come from the humongous creature that had flown between the clouds.

Pearl led the way, turning onto Fir Street. Her shiny red basketball shorts swished with her hurried steps. They cut through a church parking lot and darted around the back of an abandoned gas station. Pearl’s stride was longer than Ben’s, her steps faster. He had to jog to keep up.

“If the nest is on the button factory roof, like I think it is, then we’ll have to climb up so we can give the baby dragon back,” Pearl said as they crossed over to Maple Street.

Ben stopped walking. There were many things he dreamed of doing. Getting past level thirty-six in
Galaxy Games
was one of those things. Learning how to ride a skateboard was another one of those things. But facing an enormous mother dragon—
not
one of those things. The wall of flame the mother dragon could shoot from her snout would be a million times bigger than the one that had come out of her baby. “Uh, Pearl, I don’t think we should climb to the roof. I have a better idea.”

“A better idea?” She skidded to a stop. “I’m listening.”

He told her about the red-haired man who worked at the button factory.

“That’s impossible,” she said, pushing blond wisps from her face. “No one works at the button factory. It closed years ago.”

“The man had a recipe in his pocket for artificial dragon’s milk. And he bought the stuff to make it.”

Ben expected Pearl to laugh. He expected her to give him a playful shove and say something like, “No way! That’s crazy.” But she didn’t. She twirled a lock of her hair, her eyes glazing over as she went into a deep thinking place.

“Pearl? Did you hear what I said?”

“Dragon’s milk,” she mumbled. “Then he must know about the big dragon.” She suddenly spun
around. “Woo-hoo!” she cried. A squirrel that had been sitting on a garbage can skittered away.
“Woo-hoo!”
Pearl spun again. “This is amazing. Isn’t this amazing? Don’t you think this is amazing?”

Ben broke into a huge grin. “Yes, it’s amazing.”

But the mood was broken by a sickly sound—something between a squeak and a cough—that came from inside the tin. Ben opened the lid, and he and Pearl peered inside. A little green stain had spread across the paper towels. “Do you think that green stuff is blood?” Pearl asked.

“Maybe,” Ben said. “The stupid cat must have stabbed the dragon with one of his sharp teeth.”

“We’d better hurry.”

T
he factory stood at the very edge of town. A wrought-iron fence surrounded the property. The entry gate was closed with a padlock. A sign hung on the gate.

“We don’t have an appointment,” Ben said with a sigh.

“And we don’t have a worm,” Pearl said. “But somebody in there knows something about dragons or else they wouldn’t be making dragon’s milk.” Without another word, she climbed right over the gate. Even though Ben would normally pay attention to a sign, he knew that without help, the little dragon might not survive. So, standing on tiptoe, he carefully handed the cookie tin through the bars into Pearl’s hands. Then he scrambled over. When his feet touched down on the other side, he expected an alarm to ring or police sirens to sound. Or someone to holler, “You kids are trespassing!” But the afternoon was quiet. No traffic hum, no car alarms, no helicopters.

“How come it’s so quiet?” Ben asked.

“It’s always this quiet.”

“Thanks for holding the dragon,” Ben said as he took back the cookie tin. He peeked inside. The creature lay in the same position, its small, scaly
chest moving with shallow breaths. “The green stain’s the same.”

“Good,” Pearl said. “Maybe that means it stopped bleeding.”

A long driveway led from the gate. An overgrown lawn spread out on either side. Sparks of color caught Ben’s eyes. He reached down and picked up a red wooden button. Then a green one.

“You can find buttons all over Buttonville,” Pearl explained. “The pigeons collect them and put them in their nests.”

The driveway ended at a rectangular concrete building that looked like a fortress belonging to a mad scientist. The windows on all ten floors were dark. Many were broken. As the kids neared the old factory, a sudden wind rushed in, rustling Pearl’s hair and howling through the broken panes.

“It sounds like the place is haunted,” Ben said.

“Maybe it is.” Pearl pointed up at the roof. “That corner is where the dragon landed. Can you see anything?”

“No. But if a dragon built a nest on top of this old factory, it’s probably in the center of the roof, where no one can see it.”

“That makes sense,” Pearl said. Then she led Ben around to the side of the building. “Look.” She pointed to a metal ladder that ran up to the roof. “It’s a fire-escape ladder. We can climb to the top.”

“I don’t want to climb to the top,” Ben said. The ladder was rusty, and when Pearl grabbed it, it jiggled. While he was worried about the ladder coming loose, he was more worried about what might be hanging out on the roof. “What if the mother dragon is sleeping and we wake her up?” The wind picked up and a loud howl sounded. Pearl let go of the ladder.

“We have to give the baby back to its mother,” she said.

“No, we don’t,” Ben said. “I’ve been thinking about it. Dragons are reptiles, right?”

Pearl shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Well, reptiles don’t stay with their parents. Right after hatching, a baby snake slithers away.
A baby turtle swims away. They don’t need a mom or a dad. So maybe baby dragons are the same.” Ben clutched the cookie tin. “If the baby dragon doesn’t need its mother, then I want to keep it.”

Something growled.

Pearl glanced around nervously. “Okay. But it still needs to see a doctor. Let’s try knocking on the front door.”

A note was taped to the front door.

Pearl knocked. Then she knocked harder. “Hello?” she called.

A light turned on inside. It trickled through the crack beneath the door. Pearl stepped back
and grabbed Ben’s arm as footsteps sounded. “Someone’s coming,” she whispered.

A dead bolt released with a loud
click
, and the door creaked as it opened. The red-haired man stood in the doorway. “Yes?” he asked, his red eyebrows raised expectantly. He no longer wore the black raincoat. His white shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing arms that could only be described as
furry
. A red vest and a pair of perfectly pressed black trousers made him look a bit like a waiter in a fancy restaurant. He held an empty birdcage.

“Uh, hi,” Ben said. “I saw you in the grocery store when you were ordering all those jelly beans.”

“Kiwi-flavored jelly beans,” the man said, the birdcage dangling from his fingers. That’s when Ben noticed a small pile at the bottom of the cage. It looked like ashes. “Are you the delivery boy?”

“No,” Ben said. “Don’t you remember me? You picked a hamster hair off my shirt. And I found your recipe for dragon’s milk and gave it back to you.”

The man smacked his lips. “Ah, yes, I remember.
A Chinese striped hamster.”
Delicious with pepper.
“If you are not the delivery boy, then why are you here?”

“We need your help,” Pearl said.

“Dr. Woo’s Worm Hospital is closed.”

“It’s a big emergency,” Ben said.

“Yes, an emergency.”

“Do you have a sick worm?” the man asked.

“No,” Ben said, holding out the cookie tin. “But I found something. And it’s hurt.”

The red-haired man’s whiskers twitched. His irises dilated as he sniffed the air. “Do I detect a wyvern?” He pressed his nose against the tin. “Yes, indeed! My dear boy, you have found our missing hatchling.”

“Hatchling?” Ben realized that the man must be talking about the baby dragon. “Do you know how to take care of…hatchlings?”

“Dr. Woo knows how to take care of most everything.” The red-haired man shifted the birdcage to his left hand, then held out his right hand. “I’ll take it. You can leave it with me.”

“I don’t want to leave it with you,” Ben said. “I’d like to keep it. I just need Dr. Woo to fix it.”