Whistling Kettles
Jason had made me swear not to tell anyone about the cave at first, but on the way home I badgered him to let me tell my aunts about the dragons. As we approached my door (for some reason he had the noble idea to see me all the way home), we were having a seriously heated discussion. “Jason,” I said. “I have something you want very much.” “What?” he grumbled — he clearly felt that me wanting to tell my aunts was a lack of respect for his wishes for privacy for the dragons. “You want my aunts to help your grandpa. You trust them with his life. You want Hetty’s meal plans (and maybe even the meals we cook), Wilda’s herbs and teas, Agatha’s neuro plasticity mental and physical exercises and Jenna’s company for him. You trust them with his life, really, you do. Especially as traditional doc
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