Jim Hunter jerked upright in his business chair. He turned his head away from his computer to the telephone beside him that suddenly disturbed his concentration. Jim stabbed at the ringing instrument, activating the hands-free speaker. Before he could speak, his wife was talking excitedly.
"Jim, you've got to come home now! The school sent Bobby home because he made a dragon in class."
"That hardly seems like a reason to send a kid home. I made a papier-mache dragon myself when I was his age. It sat on a shelf at my parent's home until . . ."
"No, Jim! He made a real one in genetics class! I've got it trapped in the bathroom right now! I need you home immediately!"
"How Jill? I don't understand. Bobby's only in the third grade. What the hell are they teaching kids now? I never had genetics until I reached high school."
Jill exclaimed, "You're the one who insisted Bobby be placed in a fast-track school! That's how! Now get your butt home and take care of this . . . this . . . dragon! I'm not cleaning up after it, either!"
***
Jim stared at the remnants of his home from behind the fire line cordoned off by slick yellow tape. Smoke still drifted upwards from the remains. His wife and son were some distance from him inside the cordoned off area. They were both being treated for burns and smoke inhalation by paramedics. He suspected what caused the fire. However, he was unsure whether anyone would believe him. At the same time, he wondered if his insurance covered fires caused by dragons. If it didn't, he knew he'd be taking a big loss on the home. He ducked under the tape and was immediately approached by a police officer.
"I lived here, officer. That's my wife and son. I'd like to see how they are," Jim said.
The officer asked, "Got any ID?"
Jim produced his wallet and showed the officer proof that he used to live in the smoldering remains. The officer waved him on past to reach his family. Jim hurried over to them.
Jill exclaimed, "Thank God, you got here! The dragon burned down our home."
"I didn't mean this to happen. Honest, Dad!"
"No need to point fingers right now. Are you both okay?" Jim said.
"We're going to be fine. I grabbed Bobby the moment the first flames broke through the bathroom door and ran out. We only got singed slightly. I'm afraid we didn't get anything out of the house besides ourselves, Jim," Jill answered.
"You're sure you're both okay?" Jim asked.
Jill replied, "Yes, we're both all right. Just shaken a bit by what happened. I think the dragon must have set all the rooms on fire trying to find a way out of the house. Otherwise I think the fire department would have been able to save our home."
"Bobby, whatever in the world caused you to create a dragon?" Jim asked.
"I just wanted a pet, Dad."
"A pet? You wanted to make a pet of a dragon? Don't you realize they grow big? The food bill alone for them is ridiculous, let alone cleaning up after them."
Bobby asked, "Do virgins cost that much? I couldn't find any listed in the grocery database on the computer."
Jill laughed at hearing that.
"Bobby," Jim said, "when you grow a bit older, believe me you'll discover there's a better use for virgins than feeding them to dragons. I hope you've learned a lesson from this. No more dragons. If you want a pet, consult with us first before you make anything more at school. Uh, you didn't burn down the school, too, did you?"
"No, Dad. They made me take it outside immediately after it hatched from the egg I created. They made me wait there until they had a ride for me to get home. Does this mean I can make a Tyrannosaurus Rex? Can I? Please?"
"No way!" Jill exclaimed.
"You heard your mother," Jim said, taking advantage of Jill playing the heavy.
"Awww! I'll never get to have a pet!" Bobby wailed.
}|{ the end }|{
Bobby Made a Dragon
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