Flamy the Dragonet. Dmitrii Emets
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and Truvor started to tremble. “An-anything? Oh, mama!”
“We brought sandwiches. Would you like a sandwich, Flamy?” Olga asked.
“I would. But what is it?”
Olga laughed. She thought that everybody knew what a sandwich was. She pulled them out of the backpack and handed one to Flamy. The dragonet instantly swallowed it together with the wrapper. His face assumed a puzzled expression. “It seems that we don’t eat this rustling thing!”
“You haven’t tried unwrapping?” Pookar asked.
“Tasteless all the same.”
It was decided they would take the hungry dragon to the fridge in the kitchen. Flamy first squinted from the daylight, but soon grew accustomed and started to look around with interest. “Where are we? Whose burrow is this?”
“This is the hallway. It begins at the front door and ends at the kitchen,” the bunnies explained.
“Good thinking! Won’t get lost. Just go down the hall and sooner or later you get to the kitchen,” Flamy said gladly. He took a running start, flapped his wings, took off with difficulty, and opened the kitchen door with his head.
“See, this is the fridge,” the bunnies said. Usually everything was explained to them. Now they enjoyed feeling clever.
Flamy stretched his neck, grabbed the handle with his teeth, and the door clicked. The night before Masha and Mama went to the store and bought food for the entire week. What was not there! Milk, cheese, sausage, ham, oranges, a pot of diet soup for Mama, and a bottle of liqueur, which Papa drinks “for digestion.”
Flamy studied all this for a while and then asked, “Where’s the food? There are only some boxes and jars here!”
“The food is inside. First, wash your hands!” Olga ordered. She had not known Flamy for very long but was already giving him orders.
“Hands?” the dragon was surprised. “I have no hands! I only have feet, and a whole four of them!”
Olga pondered. “Well, okay! Wash your feet!” she said.
“What nonsense! Where is it seen that people wash their feet before meals? Maybe you’ll even say ears?” Pookar was outraged.
“It would be a good idea for some people to wash their ears, Pookar!” Olga said maliciously. Pookar stuck his tongue out at her.
“I want to eat! I want to eat!” Flamy grumbled.
Olga went to the refrigerator. “Soup?”
Flamy carefully licked the soup and shook his head.
“A chop, then? You should like chops.”
The dragon took a bite and grimaced. “No, I don’t want chops.”
In the next three minutes, it was revealed that Flamy ate neither bread, potatoes, sausage, nor hot dogs. However, Pookar liked most of all that Flamy did not like jam.
“Wait, I’ll see what else I can find!” Olga said and went to the kitchen cupboard.
Pookar took advantage of her absence and decided to play a prank. “I know what dragons like. Try mustard, Flamy! It’s very tasty! You just have to swallow a lot quickly.”
“Don’t, don’t!” the bunnies wanted to shout but did not have time.
The hungry dragonet instantly licked all the mustard out of the jar. However, instead of jumping to the ceiling, as Pookar expected, Flamy licked his lips contentedly and let out a jet of flame from his nose.
“Wow! I couldn’t do it earlier. Yummy! Perhaps, I’d be able to have some more!” he exclaimed.
“Why does it smell burnt in here? Did you light a match? I’ll give it to you!” Olga asked the bunnies severely when she returned.
“Not us! It’s Flamy! Pookar fed him mustard and he breathed fire right away! Flamy also didn’t know that he can.”
“Yeah! It’s me! Isn’t it great?” Flamy boasted.
Olga saw an empty mustard jar and started to advance menacingly toward Pookar. He instantly hid behind Flamy.
“You don’t understand, doll! He liked it. All dragons eat mustard.”
“It’s true, it’s true! And even red pepper in pods. Because we breathe fire,” Flamy confirmed.
“You’re lucky, Pookaroid, or else I’d give you a licking as mustard dessert!” Olga stopped chasing Pookar.
Realizing this, Pookar looked out bravely from behind the dragon. “Well, assuming it’s still unknown who would beat up whom,” he declared.
Flamy and his new friends moved from the kitchen to the room and played indoor Olympic games. The bunnies Sineus and Truvor excelled in jumping. They could easily jump over Flamy. Pookar did not jump so well but somersaulted remarkably. His round body was created ideally for somersaults. Flamy flew around the kitchen like an awkward, heavy bee and almost broke the lamp.
The doll Olga was afraid of staining her new dress and just clapped her hands and laughed, watching the others having fun. She suddenly remembered that Mama and Papa would soon return from work. The adults would scold Masha for scattering the toys, so they had to tidy up the room.
Flamy hesitated a little and asked, “Can I live with you in the room? It’s boring alone in the closet!”
Pookar and Olga looked at each other and agreed. “Of course, you can. Only be careful. Nobody must see you,” said Olga.
“Why?” Flamy asked.
“Because!” Pookar interrupted. “If they see you, they’ll take you away to the zoo, detain you with your head in a test tube and study you. People – they’re like that.”
“Are we telling Masha about Flamy?” the bunnies asked together.
Pookar shook his head. “Not yet. Though big in appearance, she’s but a girl, and you can expect anything from them.”
The doll Olga did not like any attack on girls. “But we can’t tell a lie! It’s not good to lie,” she objected.
“Who’s lying? To lie is to say something that isn’t. But when you don’t talk about what is, it’s a CON-SPI-RA-CY.”
“Then it’s clear. It’s quite another matter. Then we won’t tell anyone,” the bunnies promised. They liked difficult words more than they understood their meaning.
“Hurray!” Flamy shouted. “I’ll live in the room! When someone comes, I’ll hide. Right?”
“Uh-huh,” Pookar assured him.
Chapter Four
About What Every Little Dragonet Can Do
In the evening on the green carpet in front of the dollhouse, Olga gathered all the toys to celebrate the resettlement of the dragonet Flamy to the room. Olga was bustling about in the kitchen. Sineus and Truvor were helpers; they carried spoons, forks, bowls of jam, cookies and pickles, cans of fish for the cat Muffin, and jars of mustard for Flamy.
Meanwhile, Muffin was teaching Flamy good manners. She found him funny but a little uncouth, and immediately got busy with his education.
“How do you walk? You stomp like a rhino! Should walk like this… Feet move softly and carefully!” Muffin strolled gracefully along the rug.
“Ne-uh. If I walk like that, then what about my fearsome dragon huff? All dragons huff. They can’t do it differently,” Flamy grumbled.
“You’re as stubborn as a rhino!” Rhino was the only wild beast known to Muffin. She once saw a picture of it in a children’s book and remembered it very well. Since then, it had become her source of negative examples for life. “Walk like a rhino,” “stupid like a rhino,” “drink milk like a rhino,” the cat repeated incessantly.
“It’s unclear why this Moscow cat is obsessed with the rhino.