from my cell phone. He’d flip if he caught me awake after midnight. I texted,
“Beat game. Blew everything up.”
one of my buddies. It read, “Justin. Do not skip this class: Essential Lessons
for Frost Dragon Egg Maintenance. All Lab. No Lecture.”
homework every day and yet another book report due for language studies. Some
loser must’ve got my number and this was his idea of a hilarious joke.
checked again. The screen name of the person who sent it was “Sphinx.” The game
was probably fantasy. I might buy it. Sounded sweet.
go to sleep. My dad would peel the covers off me before the sun rose in the
morning, even if it was a Saturday. He’d drag me on some hike, or bike ride, or
kayak trip. Just once, I wished he’d let me do what I wanted.
in another message, “Can’t make gaming party.” No, instead of bringing my
laptop to a friend’s house, I’d be discovering a whole new world of blisters.
phone under the pillow. I was so busted. Trying to think of an excuse, I pushed
aside my old plaid camping blanket. But Dad wasn’t there.
wall. The light shaded into pink and then turned burning red.
and then an enormous thump shook the bed. Adrenaline surging through my legs, I
ran to the window, threw it open and leaned outside. My mouth fell open. Frozen
lightning hung in front of my house, stretching from the lawn up to the roof.
Across the narrow street, red haze swirled around a hulking animal the size of
a backhoe. It cast about, as if looking for something.
snapped its head up. It gazed directly at me with golden eyes big as my fist.
The pupils thinned to narrow vertical lines.
away across the room, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Then my head hit the
opposite wall with a thump that made my ears ring. The creature’s gaze pinned
me there like a bug.
“Justin! There’s a fire!”
something, but my voice was no louder than a gasping goldfish.
of my pajamas and hustled me out onto the landing. Mom just stood there, her
hands clasped in front of her heart. Dad took her arm and helped her downstairs
while I clomped after them.
was out there like a monster from a nightmare. My tongue stumbled over itself.
I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “Wait! Don’t go outside.”
hovered on my toes at the end of the hallway.
scream or recoil. I edged out next to Dad, glad I hadn’t just become an orphan.
Beyond, there was no giant beast. The silver thread was gone too.
it wasn’t as big as I’d thought. It was dark out and there were only a few
streetlights in our neighborhood. “Did you see a huge animal run away?”
Scared by the fire.”
the street with a shower of sparks.
to be my best friend, back when we were little kids. She and her mom lived in
that house alone.
Justin, take care of your mother.”
The firefighters will be here soon.”
they didn’t come in time to save Amber and her mom?
hand-in-hand with her mom, Ruth. They must’ve escaped out their back door. I
didn’t realize how hard my heart was pounding until it slowed.
held onto each other. Amber’s bare feet stuck out the bottom of her sweatpants.
the monster. Maybe it really had been just an animal. It was pretty late and
I’d been staring at a computer screen for hours. I’d probably killed a
half-dozen virtual dragons. I jogged down the sidewalk to Amber. Her eyes
looked almost black in the reflected firelight. “Are you okay?”
with a little shake of her head.
have been an earthquake.” She chewed her lip as she watched fire engulf their
home. “Maybe it broke a gas line.”
was hit by….” I trailed off. I couldn’t tell them about a monster. Even a giant
animal sounded crazy.
mother’s but inky black like her dad’s. She leaned into her mom, eyes wide and
shocked. “All my things, my clothes, my….”
animals. They even spilled from a hammock strung across the ceiling like fluffy
guardian angels.
stuff.”
say. You’d think differently if it were your precious computer.”
like when, I needed you.”
fault…”
if I’d just stopped existing.
strobing. I slunk back to my parents.
gushed through the looping coils. The water made clouds of smoke and steam
erupt through the broken windows.
against the heat. Right under my feet, wisps of smoke curled up from our lawn.
A wide blackened trail led across the street and to the burning house. It was
almost like an arrow pointing from my house to Amber’s.
tight around the middle. He stood stiff, arms raised. I hadn’t seen him in
years. My mom told me he’d gone home to Shanghai, but he was back now.







