Dragon Boy

1: Lecture

The home economics classroom was silent as the teacher finished yet another boring lecture. It was a dreary day, and not a single speck of blue sky could be seen under the thick, dark blanket of clouds. That, when paired with the emotionless monotone of the teacher's voice, made sitting through the class - let alone staying awake - very difficult. As the teacher went on about stitching or kitchen safety or whatever it was she was droning on about, Kyle doodled in his notebook. He was drawing dragons, sketching sorcerers, casually creating creatures and characters of other worlds.

"...big responsibility... so... final project... only assignment... eggs... any questions?"

Silence.

"...partners..."

There was a shuffle as students moved to different seats.

"Odd... Kyle... Kyle?"

Kyle looked up from his doodles and say his teacher looking his way. "Kyle there's nobody left. You can either do this project on your own or join another group." He looked around and, sure enough, the twenty-four other students were divided into twelve groups of two. "Well? Which would you prefer?"

He cleared his throat and started slow and softly, "I guess I'll be on my own."

"Can you handle it?"

He nodded. "Sure."

She nodded. "Very well." She turned around and reached into a box behind her, and retrieved two dozen cartons and one half-dozen carton of large eggs.

"Are they going to hatch?" one of the girls asked excitedly.

The teacher shook her head. "No. They're hard-boiled. This will minimize the mess if one of you drops yours."

"Would they have hatched?" another student asked.

Once again, the teacher shook her head. "No. Don't worry. And the birds they came from are raised cage-free, they are organic, and they were pasteurized. Any other questions?"

Again, silence.

"Good. For the rest of class, start planning who gets the egg when and for how long. On your way out, one person from each group grab an egg and rubric."

So for the rest of class, the groups chatted amongst themselves about anything and everything but their projects, while Kyle began to think up places he could keep his egg to keep it out of harm's way; his house was old and it seemed as though everything was rickety and wobbly, built so close to the train tracks the house shook whenever a train passed, the exact opposite of where anyone in their right mind would put something important and delicate. He supposed he could keep it on his bed or in a cup in the refrigerator and make sure his mother, father, and uncle knew it was not for eating. When the bell rang, everyone stood up and went to get their project, the group members standing side-by-side. Kyle got to the back of the line, hoping that maybe there would not be enough eggs and that he would get an alternate assignment.

"The eggs are colorful!" one of the girls exclaimed.

"Yes," said the teacher, "I dyed and decorated them so I'll know if the egg I'm giving you is the egg I'm getting back. I'm sick and tired of kids trying to bring me an egg from home or someone else's egg."

So one by one the eggs and rubrics were taken, until Kyle got to the front of the line and noticed that one remained. It was very large, and the same shade of purple as a chunk of amethyst.

"Hoping I'd run out, weren't you?" his teacher droned in a patronizing tone.

He nodded. "Yeah, not gonna deny it." He gently picked up the egg. It had some heft to it, and was nice and smooth. "This a crocodile egg or something?"