The Dragon in the Driveway by Kate Klimo, John Shroades

into the hole, turned herself neatly around, and began to back down the stairs.
    “Be very, very careful!” Daisy called to Emmy.
    Emmy stopped chanting. “Don’t worry. I am a very careful dragon,” she called back. Then she resumed the chant as she lowered herself down the stairs.
    The cousins watched her disappear, her golden voice echoing out of the darkness. “I think I can. I think I can….”
    Then the chanting faded away.
    Daisy gasped and fell to her knees, shouting through the doorway. “Emmy! Say something! Emmy? Jess, she’s not saying anything. I’m going down there.” Daisy swiveled onto her backside and was just about to slide down into the hole when Emmy’s eager face appeared in the doorway. Her great green eyes shone with wonder and excitement.
    “Jesse, Daisy, come down now!” she said with such urgency that Jesse dropped down beside Daisy and they both scooted into the hole and through the door. Jesse went down the stairs first, but Daisy wasn’t far behind.
    It was at least ten degrees cooler down there. The cousins found their arms immediately coveredwith gooseflesh. Hugging themselves, they stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked around. They appeared to be in a small room.
    “This isn’t so scary,” said Daisy. There was just enough space for all three of them to stand in a small square room where old wooden shelves lined three of the walls. The shelves were crowded with ancient mason jars full of tomatoes and peaches and green beans and other things impossible to recognize in the dim light.
    “It’s the farmer’s old root cellar,” said Daisy as she turned in a slow circle.
    “Yep,” Jesse agreed, feeling a tug of disappointment.
    “I don’t know about you guys, but this doesn’t seem very magical to me,” Daisy said. “It’s just old and musty and cold. Let’s go back up, where it’s warm and sunny.”
    “I guess,” Jesse said with a sigh.
    “NO!” cried Emmy, with such ferocity that the cousins gaped at her. Her pale green belly heaved. Her tail whipped back and forth.
    “Whoa,” said Jesse. He knew the signs: Emmy was about to fly into one of her tantrums.
    “I want to stay!” Emmy said fiercely, her body quaking.
    “Emerald,” Jesse said in a low, stern voice. Hemade calming motions with his hands. “Look. You can’t stay down here. We’ve already seen all there is to see, and besides, it’s probably not safe. And don’t even
think
about eating the stuff in these jars.”
    Emmy backed up. “I have to stay.”
    The shelves behind her rattled as she bumped against them. The next lash of her tail swept all the mason jars off the bottom two shelves. They thudded to the dirt floor and rolled every which way underfoot.
    “Watch out for exploding jars!” Daisy said, grabbing her head. “The stuff inside might have gone bad.”
    But Jesse couldn’t worry about that now. “Emmy, please come back up with us.”
    “I WILL STAY!” she thundered, taking another step backward. Her hind legs began to slip and slide on the jars. She tumbled into the shelves behind her. With a wrenching, wood-splintering crash, they gave way. A shower of dirt sifted down from above.
    “The sky is falling!” shouted Emmy.
    Daisy screamed and covered her head. “We’re all going to be buried alive!”
    When the dirt shower tapered off, the cousins and Emmy looked around. The wall of shelvesbehind Emmy was gone. Beyond the shelves was an open space, extending into a tunnel. The tunnel, framed by ancient timbers, was no wider than a doorway and just high enough to fit Emmy, with very little room to spare.
    “This isn’t just a root cellar,” Daisy said. “It’s the entrance to the old mine.”
    “I know!” said Jesse.
    “Let’s go in the old mine, Clementine!” Emmy sang.
    “Oh, my darlin’, I’m right behind you!” said Jesse.
    “Are you guys
nuts
?!” Daisy exploded.
    Jesse and Emmy stared at Daisy, both looking a little hurt.
    “You guys don’t