Horrible Harry and the Dragon War (2 page)

T
hat stormy morning Miss Mackle set out toilet paper rolls, balloons, newspaper, cardboard, and masking tape on the supply table. She was at the sink mixing something in a bucket. “I'm excited about this new quick-drying art paste for our papier-mâché. But you need to sketch your animals first.”

“Yippee!” Harry and I shouted. We loved doing messy projects. Everyone got busy drawing.

Harry drew a dragon with a huge sail of skin on its back, huge bat wings, five sharp claws, and a spiked tail with a fat arrow at the end. It looked like the picture in his book. It spit fire and poisonous green smoke. “This baby is one mean dragon!” Harry roared.

“Mine's not mean,” Song Lee said softly. “He's kind, like the one Elmer talked about in
My Father's Dragon.
Did you know I was born in the Year of the Dragon? It only comes once every twelve years. I was lucky. Dragons bring good fortune!”

Harry put his green crayon down and stared at what Song Lee had drawn. “A blue, green, and yellow striped dragon with curly hair? Four claws and one little red horn? No wings? How can he fly?”

“He flies,” Song Lee said proudly. “My dragon has a mane like a lion. It pumps air in and out and helps him fly.”

“What's that white round thing in his mouth?” Harry asked.

“That's his pearl. In Korean, we call it
yom ju.
It helps dragons fly, too, but no one knows how.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “What's he eating?”

Song Lee smiled. “He's eating bamboo and sipping cream.”

“Cream?” Harry laughed. “Don't you know dragons drink elephant's blood? Hercules killed one with a bunch of heads and poisonous breath. Dragons are terrifying! They eat people!”

“Not mine,” Song Lee insisted. “My dragon isn't mean. He's gentle. And he loves cream.”

Harry shook his head as he watched Song Lee draw flowers on the dragon's bowl.

Then he said it.

One little “s” word that hit our room like a torpedo.

“Your dragon is
stupid!”

Song Lee immediately glared at Harry. Her eyes got all watery. “My dragon is not stupid. He's beautiful!”

“Beautiful? Dragons are fierce. If I lived in the Middle Ages, I'd be Sir Harry! I'd slay the dragon with my silver sword and save you.”

Song Lee stood up and made a face that I had never seen before. She was angry and sad at the same time. “I don't need to be saved. I love dragons! They bring good luck!” When she blinked, a tear dropped onto her paper and blurred her dragon picture. She quickly pulled out her pink blossom handkerchief, wiped her eyes, and stopped crying. Then she picked up her things and marched over to Ida and Mary's table.

Harry shrugged as he looked at me. “Hey, Doug, I can't help it if she doesn't know anything about dragons.”

I shrugged back. I didn't feel like taking sides. Harry was my best friend, but Song Lee was my friend, too.

When Harry reached for a green crayon, he noticed it looked brand-new. “This has to be hers,” he grumbled. “Mine are all stubs.” So he brought it over to Song Lee.

“You left this,” he mumbled. “You'll need it to color those green stripes on your dragon.”

Song Lee didn't look up. She didn't say a word. Mary and I shook our heads. We knew we were watching something awful.

The beginning of a dragon war.

T
he next hour was deadly. Nobody laughed. Hardly anybody talked. When we blew up the balloons for our papiermache projects, nobody popped one on purpose. Not even Harry.

Miss Mackle noticed Song Lee had moved to the girls' table, but she didn't notice the war. “Everyone's working so nicely together!” she hummed. “What a wonderful class I have!”

Mary and I exchanged a look. Working nicely together? Song Lee and Harry were working on separate planets.

At 11:05, the rain finally stopped. When the sun peeked out between the clouds, Ida broke the eerie silence.
“Look!”
she screamed.
“There's a rainbow on our table!”

Everyone shot out of their seat, holding their sticky hands in the air.

There it was.

A perfect little rainbow with all the colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. It was magical!

“See,” Song Lee said. “Dragons bring good luck.” She was careful to say that to the girls only.

“Yours
sure does!” Mary replied, clapping her hands. “The rainbow is arched over
your dragon
!”

Harry groaned, “Rainbows, schmainbows. They have nothing to do with luck.”

Mary and Ida shot Harry a look.

Sid followed him back to his table. “If you were a leprechaun, Harry, you wouldn't say that. They hide gold at the end of rainbows.”

Harry plopped down in his chair. “In case you haven't noticed, Sid the Squid, I'm not a leprechaun. I'm a knight! Sir Harry! See the dragon I'm making?”

“Cool,” Sid replied. “So I'll call you Sir Harry the Canary from now on.”

Harry nodded as he taped a toilet paper roll onto his dragon. I don't think Harry minded his nickname as much when Sid put “Sir” in front of it.

A few minutes later, Harry walked over to Song Lee. He had forgotten she was mad at him. “What do you think of my dragon now?” he asked.

Song Lee always said something nice about Harry's work.

But this time, it was different.

Song Lee didn't look at Harry. She didn't say
one
word. She just kept pasting long paper strips on her dragon.

Their fight had turned into a deadly silent war. “How long are you going to keep this up?” Harry demanded.

Song Lee said nothing.

The silence was so strong we could hear the wall clock tick tick ticking.

This time when Harry returned to our table, Mary followed him. As soon as he sat down, she shook a finger in his face. “You need to apologize.”

“To who?” Harry asked.

“Song Lee!”

“For what?” Harry snapped.

“For calling her dragon
stupid.”

“No way,” Harry insisted. “Any dragon that drinks cream and has stripes and curly hair is stupid.”

Mary blew up into her bangs. She was furious. “Harry Spooger, I am joining Song Lee's side in this war.