The Dragon in the Ghetto Caper by E.L. Konigsburg

“dragons” without some black.
    * * * *
    Andy had not finished drawing the dragon by

    Thursday, but they didn’t want to disappoint Sister Henderson, so they drove to her house from Emerson.
    She came skipping and bouncing to the car, the least dignified Andy had ever seen her look.
    â€œYou seem cheerful today,” Edie said.
    â€œAh got good news fo’ me. Fo’ me an’ Brother Banks. We be delighted that you dint box that sixty-three. Thirty-six hit.” She chuckled. “‘Magine hitting that fo’ five dollahs.”
    â€œOh, well,” Edie said, “as long as Brother Banks was pleased.”
    Andy was confused. He didn’t know why Sister Henderson referred to boxing sixty-three. The gift had only been for five dollars. But he didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t cool to show too much curiosity. And sometimes it was not considered polite.
    Edie had finished with Sister as quickly as possible so that Andy could complete the drawing of the dragon. She zigged and zagged, in and out of the detour around St. Vincent’s. The needlework would take a lot of time, and she wanted to get it started. Edie was almost as enthusiastic about the dragon pillow as she was about their garden. Andy leaned back in the car. Besides being a neat driver, Edie was an interesting sidekick/person. In private.

C HAPTER E IGHT
    T he following Thursday they zoomed over to Sister Henderson’s again. In and out of the detour and straight up to her porch. They again wanted her to finish as quickly as possible. There was still much work to do on Mary Jane’s pillow. But Sister was not ready. She was usually on the front stoop waiting for them, but today she was not. They waited in the car for a few minutes and discussed whether or not they ought to honk the horn. They thought that doing so would not set the good example they wanted to set for manners in the ghetto. Andy decided that he would walk to the front door and knock. Or he would ring the bell if they had them in the ghetto.
    The screen door was closed. (No one in Foxmeadow had screen doors. Some homes had windows that couldn’t open. In Foxmeadow everything was air-conditioned except the jock things: the golf course, the tennis courts and the swimming pool.) Andy pressed his face against the screen (it left graph paper on his nose) and saw the whole inside of Sister Henderson’s house. She was sitting in the living room. He guessed that it was the living roomeven though there was a dining room table in it, right across from the sofa. She was watching out of a side window. She was so intent on looking at whatever she was seeing that she answered his hello without taking her eyes from the window. “Hey, Andy, how ‘bout you an’ Miz Yakots comin’ on in for a cup a Coke ‘fore we start?”
    So, thought Andy, they drink Coke from a cup in the ghetto. “But, Sister Henderson,” he said, “we’d like to finish before three if that’s at all possible.”
    â€œC’mere, Andrew,” Sister Henderson said. Andy walked over to the window, and Sister pointed. “See that gray Plymouth restin’ down the road a piece? That ain’t no ornary car. That car means gray evil. That man behine th’ wheel is waitin’ for me. He be waitin’ for me to colleck, then the minute Ah be finished, he’ll grab me, and there’ll go mah donations for the entire week.”
    Robbers! Andy thought. Robbers! Robbers! At last.
    He felt his heart begin to pound. He had to play it cool. Robbers were not as good as murderers to catch, but they were a start. The important thing, the most important thing, was to play it cool. He’d better not tip off Yakots, and he’d better just stay cool. If he hinted anything at all to Yakots, she would panic and ruin everything. He would take it one step at a time. Coolly. The first step was to get Sister Henderson out to the car. It