he dragon hung in the window of the Lung Fung Trading Company on Jefferson
Street collecting dust, cobwebs, and bug skeletons. He was blind, speechless too, for
his jaws had been wired tightly shut. His only companions were his severed tail, two
empty shipping crates, and a jar of salted duck eggs.
Far away from Jefferson Street, Peter Chang had learned he would spend the summer in Chinatown with Great Aunt.
"Why?" Peter asked.
She's my oldest, wisest aunt," said Peter's mother. "You must get to know her." Peter's father agreed.
But Peter did not. He didn't want to spend his summer in a small apartment above a noodle factory. They sent him anyway.
