The Sasquatch Escape Page 3

I’m going to take a nap,” Grandpa Abe announced as he patted his belly. He grabbed his cane and shuffled across the crumb-coated kitchen floor. Ben had eaten a bologna sandwich and a pickle for lunch, but he didn’t remember chewing or tasting them. He’d been thinking about the baby dragon that was lying on his bed. How long could it survive without help?

  The red-haired man with the dragon’s milk recipe had said he worked at the old button factory. A person with a dragon’s milk recipe might be a person who knows a thing or two about dragons. “Grandpa?”

  “Hmmm?” Grandpa Abe settled on the patched couch. He stretched out his long, skinny legs and rested his head on a moth-nibbled pillow.

  “Can I go for a walk?”

  “Can you go for a walk? Of course you can go for a walk.”

  “Thanks.” Back home, Ben wasn’t allowed to go on walks alone. Too much traffic, too many strangers. Plus, everything was so spread out in Los Angeles, it could take an hour just to get to the mall. But if Ben stood on Main Street in Buttonville, he could see from one end of town to the other. There was no way he’d get lost.

  As Ben added his lunch plate to the pile in the sink, he remembered that he’d promised his mother to help with the chores. “I’ll wash these when I get back,” he said.

  “Okay by me.” Grandpa Abe closed his eyes. “I’ll be heading to the senior center later. There’s an extra key to the house under the welcome mat, just in case I’m not here when you get back.” He rolled onto his side.

  “Okay.”

  Ben found a cookie tin on the kitchen counter. He shook out the crumbs, then set folded sheets of paper towels inside. After grabbing a rusty spatula, he hurried into his room.

  The creature lay on the quilt, its eyes still closed. Ben slid the spatula under the creature, gently lifted it, and set it on the bed of paper towels. For a moment, he worried about the flammability of the paper. But no sparks shot out of the creature’s snout. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. He put the lid on the tin, then carried it into the living room.

  Snores streamed out of Grandpa Abe’s half-open mouth. Barnaby perched on Grandpa’s chest, leisurely cleaning his front paws. He seemed to have forgotten about the wounded creature he’d abandoned on Ben’s bed, and he paid no attention as Ben tiptoed past and out the front door. Ben glanced back, just to make sure his bedroom door was closed tight.

  Gripping the cookie tin, Ben set off down the sidewalk. Town Hall loomed in the distance, guiding the way back to Main Street. In just a few minutes, Ben stood in front of the Dollar Store.

  He barely knew Pearl Petal, but he needed her help. Even though Grandpa Abe had called Pearl a troublemaker, Ben felt he could trust her. After all, they’d both seen the giant bird and she’d mouthed the word dragon. She’d told him that the giant bird lived on the roof of the old button factory. And she’d said she was going to investigate. If she took him to the factory, maybe they’d find the red-haired man who’d said he worked there. Ben hoped she hadn’t left already.

  The Dollar Store’s front window was stacked with all sorts of stuff you could buy for a dollar: baskets, beach balls, bags of tortilla chips, and brooms. Voices drifted from the open window above the store. Glasses and silverware clinked.

  “Hello?” Ben called. A head of blond hair poked out the window.

  “Hey, it’s you.” Pearl looked down at him. “What’s that you’re carrying?”

  Ben put the cookie tin behind his back. “Are you still going to the old button factory? To find that…bird?”

  “Yeah, as soon as I finish lunch.” She smiled. “You want to go with me?”

  “Yes, because…” Ben tapped his feet, then looked around. The sidewalk was empty. The nearest pair of ears belonged to a woman who was walking her dog across the street. “I found something,” he told Pearl.

  Pearl disappeared. A few moments later, the OPEN sign rattled as she burst out the front door. “What did you find?” she asked, her eyes wide with expectation. A checkered napkin was tucked into her T-shirt.

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

  “Yeah, okay. I promise,” she said, holding up her hand as if swearing an oath.

  “Because if you tell your mom or your dad, they might take it away.”

  “I said I promise. I always keep my promises.”

  Ben lowered his voice. Then he slowly slid the tin out from behind his back. “Remember how you said that the bird looked like a dragon?”

  Pearl nodded. Her eyes got so big they looked like they might pop right off her face. “Did you find dragon poop?”

  “No. Something better.”

  Very carefully, so as not to startle the creature, Ben pulled off the lid.

  “Is that a toy?” Pearl asked as she leaned closer. Then she inhaled so long and hard that if any bugs had been flying around, they surely would have been sucked into her mouth right between the big gap in her teeth. “Whoa! It’s breathing!” She reached out to touch the creature, but Ben pulled the tin away.

  “Be careful. It shoots fire,” he explained. “Grandpa’s cat caught it. Its wing is torn.”

  “Ben? Do you know what you’ve found?” Pearl’s green eyes sparkled as if they’d been dipped in glitter. “Do you?”

  Ben swallowed hard. When he spoke, his voice was a bit shaky. “I think it’s a baby dragon.”

  “It sure is.” Pearl smiled. “Do you think it belongs to the big dragon?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then we have to get it back to its mother. We have to go to the button factory.”

  Ben didn’t want to return the baby to its mother. He wanted to keep it. But he didn’t know how to take care of it.

  “I’ve lived here all my life, and suddenly we have dragons in Buttonville. This is amazing.” Pearl looked over her shoulder. “Better put the lid back on so no one else sees it.” Ben did, and just in time, because a woman with hair as yellow as Pearl’s stuck her head out the upstairs window.

  “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 w
as 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.”

  8

  The 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.”

  “Keep it?” The man frowned. “That is not possible.” Then his gaze darted to the birdcage. The little pile of ashes began to glow, sparks rising as if it were the remains of a very tiny campfire. “The phoenix arises. Wait here.” He shut the door.

  “Phoenix?” Pearl said. “I know what that is. I know all about birds. I have a bird-nest collection.” Then she went on to explain: “A phoenix is a bird that bursts into flame, then is reborn from its ashes.”

  Before Ben could comment, th
e door opened and the red-haired man, now empty-handed, stood once again in the doorway. “Are you from the Imaginary World?” he asked the kids.

  Ben and Pearl shared a bewildered look. Then they both shook their heads.

  “Then you cannot keep the hatchling. Imaginary World creatures are not allowed to live in the Known World. It is against the rules.”

  Known World? Imaginary World? A shiver slithered down Ben’s spine. What was this man talking about?

  “When you say the ‘Imaginary World,’ do you mean it’s an actual place?” Pearl asked.

  “Of course it is an actual place,” the man replied. “Where else would the hatchling have come from?” Then he cleared his throat. “Oh dear, perhaps I should not have said that.”

  A faint squeak echoed inside the cookie tin. Although Ben’s head was swimming with questions, he knew the baby dragon needed help. “Please, could we see Dr. Woo?”

  “Dr. Woo is not here. She is making a house call. But I am in charge during her absence.” The man stepped aside. “If you will not relinquish the creature, then you had best come in.”

  9

  They stood in a big, cold room. Sparkling cobwebs crisscrossed the high ceiling. Strips of peeling white paint hung from the walls as if something very large had been sharpening its claws in the concrete. A faded sign stood on its side against the far wall next to an elevator. Two doors flanked the room.

  “Please forgive the mess,” the man said. “We have only been here a few days. It is rather difficult to move an entire hospital.” He nodded toward some moving boxes that were stacked in one corner. A pile of buttons lay in another corner, next to a broom. The birdcage was nowhere to be seen.

  “How come you need such a big place?” Ben asked. “Worms are so small.”

  “We have one room for worms. The other rooms are for…other things.” The man held out his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mr. Tabby. I am in charge of identifying and registering each patient.” He shook Pearl’s hand, then shook Ben’s. His sharp fingernails prickled Ben’s skin. “And you are?”