The sparkle caught Christopher's eye, as he waited for the school bus. Crouching down, he gathered the unidentifiable object in his hand. No bigger than a pheasant's egg it wobbled like a bowl of jelly in his palm. Reaching out to touch it, he jerked back as an icy sensation jolted his fingertip and the orb hardened.
Is it an egg? Should I keep it warm? He blew on the tiny orb, which glowed green, red and finally gold before turning back to its translucent state.
The rumble of the approaching school bus startled Christopher. Slipping the orb into his backpack, he boarded the bus, pulling his collar up high around his neck, to avoid questions from the bus driver about the bruises.
************
“Never thought the day would end,” Christopher told the humming orb, placing it gently down in the middle of his bed. “Hope I kept you warm enough."
A crackling sound replaced the humming. I’m right. It is an egg. The egg broke apart and Christopher watched in amazement while the sopping baby dragon slowly unfolded tiny wings and held them out to dry.
“You’re no bigger than a baby mouse,” he whispered.
Its whirring octagonal eyes reminded Christopher of a kaleidoscope he’d won at the county fair years ago. He held his breath, watching them change color.
“Do you like this color?” the dragon asked, rocking slightly, as its eyes changed to a burnished gold.
“Yes, I do."
“I’m glad you like my eyes gold," the dragon said, stretching each wing before folding it again. “I do too.”
“What’s your name?”
“China Rose, but you may call me Rose.”
“That’s a girl’s name.”
A tear fell onto his quilt.
Christopher winced. “I’m sorry. It’s okay if you’re a girl, I guess.”
Her minuscule scales glowed with streaks of orange, pink and purple. Launching into the air, she landed on his shirt and crooned, rubbing against his chin.
“You’re so soft, Rose,” he said, stroking her head. "I thought dragon scales were hard."
A door slammed. Christoper froze.
Rose squeaked and dove behind Christopher’s clock as his bedroom door swung open, hitting the wall. A large man stomped into the room.
“What the hell’s that noise?”
"What noise?" What am I going to tell him?
His father's hand slammed into his face, knocking him to the floor.
“On your feet.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Christopher knew better than to disobey. A flash of color flew past his ear as he scrambled up.
“Augh! Get away from me!”
Christopher stared in horror as his father attempted to beat off the furious dragon flying around his face.
“Rose, don’t!”
The little dragon flew back to her perch by the clock, eyes whirring dark green and yellow, reminding him of an angry swarm of bees in front of a tornado. She hissed loudly when Christopher’s father grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him against the wall.
"You miserable excuse for a son. I wish you'd disappear out of my life."
Christopher gasped for air as his father's hands tightened around his neck.
“I’ll be back with my belt. Stupid electronic toys. What’s this?” He let go and walked over to the bed.
Slumping down, Christopher watched his father pick up the dragon’s tear.
“Where’d you steal this from?” Without waiting for an answer, he pocketed the diamond and walked out.
Rose dove down and nestled against her boy.
“Don’t worry, he won’t be back tonight. He’ll pass out on the couch before he remembers what he went looking for,” Christopher said. “He’s only like this when he drinks too much. He hates me because Mom died." He paused and took a ragged breath. "If Mom hadn’t run back into the house for me, the night it caught on fire, she’d still be alive."
A tear rolled down his cheek as he looked down at the baby dragon. At least I won't be lonely any more.
"Me neither," the dragon replied.
**********
The next morning, Christopher ignored the gnawing in his stomach as he sat on the hard wooden seat at the bus shelter. He often went to school hungry.
Rose snuggled against his neck, humming.
“Are your tears really diamonds?” he asked, remembering what his father had found.
“Yes.”
“You can talk to me without speaking out loud?”
“Yes. Here’s our ride.”
Christopher reached for his bag. He looked up to see a spiraling circle of shooting stars spinning tighter and tighter in front of him. It reminded him of sparklers on the fourth of July, but thousands of them, all at once. As quickly as they'd appeared they fizzled, leaving a glistening white unicorn standing there in front of them. The noble creature snorted and tossed his head.
“Wait a minute, this isn’t the bus. What do you mean our ride? Where are we going?”
Rose hovered in front of him, eyes sparkling.
“To make your father's wish come true. What are you waiting for?”
The unicorn knelt down. Christopher climbed on his wide back and Rose flew up to join him, burying her claws in the unicorn's thick golden mane.
"I didn't know unicorns had wings," he whispered.
"Some don't," Rose replied.
“Hold on tight!” a deep baritone voice instructed.
Christopher wrapped his arms around the unicorn’s silky neck, and felt the creature's muscles bunching for a leap.
A spinning silver hole appeared in the back of the bus shelter and the trio vanished into a world where none but the pure of heart could follow.
*************
Five minutes later, a bus driver stared at the empty shelter, shaking his head.
“Poor Christopher,” he muttered. “His miserable excuse for a father’s been drinking again.”
He drove away without noticing the book-bag lying under the empty seat or the silver letters scattered on the ground beside it.
When Christopher's father stormed down to the bus-stop that afternoon looking for his son, he found a message waiting in those silver letters that haunted him forever.
"Your wish came true."
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