Dinosaur Hideout Page 3

  “Mornin’,” Jed said unhappily, staring out the window.

  “What’s up?” Daniel nudged him with sudden concern.

  Jed spoke at last. “Did you hear about that oil company that wants to lease land around here?”

  “Yeah. My dad was on the phone with all kinds of people last night, that’s why I didn’t get a chance to call you.”

  Jed turned to look at him. “Do you know what this could mean? We won’t be able to cross any of the property and no more searching for dinosaur relics. They’ll be digging up all over the place, levelling hills and putting in an access road. There’ll be trucks and people everywhere. All that noise and stink.”

  Daniel shook his head and replied with assurance. “It won’t happen to us. Sounded like my dad thought there were too many reasons not to do it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jed shook his head. “Some guy is coming out to see my parents tomorrow night. I overheard them say your parents were interested too.”

  “What? Get real, man!”

  “This is for real!” Jed nodded.

  “My parents can’t be interested. My dad wouldn’t give up the farm. It means everything to him. And we don’t have enough land to do both. You must have heard wrong.”

  “No, they’re definitely coming over to my place to listen to the spiel.”

  “Geez, that’s awful.”

  Wade whirled around in his seat and confronted them. “What are you so worried about? It means big bucks for us all. My old man says he’s going to be able to retire, if they lease. Then we can go south every winter.” He crossed his arms smugly.

  Jed guffawed. “Is that all you think about, Wade? Money? You’re disgusting.” He pushed Wade’s arm off the back of the seat. “Besides, this is a private conversation, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Fine, you little morons. Starve then, with that kind of attitude!” Wade bent his head over to Brett and they whispered something and laughed. A few moments later, they moved up the aisle to plague the McCaw twins.

  Daniel lowered his voice, “This is terrible news. Especially with what I just found.”

  “What?” Jed asked.

  Furtively, Daniel drew the rock from his pocket and showed him.

  Jed fingered the relic. “What is it?”

  “A receptaculites,” Daniel answered.

  “A what?” Jed asked.

  “I just call it a taculite,” said Daniel. “It’s kind of like a coral or sponge, only really ancient.”

  “Wow,” Jed shook his head in amazement, turning the rock over. “Do you know what this means? You’ve found the proof!”

  “Yep. But I need more time to search.” He took the rock back and slipped it in his pocket when he noticed Craig Nelwin trying to listen.

  Jed kept his voice low. “Yeah, I heard my parents say that it would be more beneficial if they leased the land with your parents – you know the two west quarters beside each other.”

  “That means the quarter where my secret hideout is! I won’t be able to go there anymore!”

  “Yikes. That’s bad for you!” Jed stared at Daniel.

  “I have to do something. They’ll ruin everything!” Daniel exclaimed in horror. “I know there have to be some dinosaurs on our land that no one has found yet. I can feel it! And I think this taculite proves it.”

  Jed responded. “But there may be one bright side. I heard they want Pederson’s place, too. Could mean we’ll be rid of that weird old guy. He gives me the creeps.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to stay clear of him.” Daniel shuddered. Then he told Jed about the confrontation with Pederson the previous morning.

  “Geez, I’d have been totally freaked out!”

  “I was,” Daniel admitted. “But now I’m curious to know what he’s up to out there.”

  “Danny, you wouldn’t go snooping around his place, would you?” Jed searched his face to see if he was serious.

  “Nah, not worth the effort.” He wasn’t going to admit he was too scared to go.

  “Whew. You’d better not. No telling what he could do.”

  Daniel could tell Jed was relieved, but he pretended to be fearless. “Don’t tell me you believed Brett and Wade’s story?”

  “Not really, but there must be something to it.” Jed peered at him.

  “Yeah.” Daniel said thoughtfully. “Sure wish I knew what!”

  Daniel saw Jed jerk, alarmed, so he busied himself digging a dinosaur book out of his backpack. Jed seemed to relax, as they dropped the subject.

  ~

  Early the next morning Daniel and Dad were doing chores together in the barn. The smell of dusty hay wafted into Daniel’s nostrils as he swung a pitchfork full of straw into the calves’ stall. He could hear the squirsh, squirsh of milk hitting the metal pail as Dad milked Lily, their prize Holstein.

  “Jeez, why do I always have to help feed these stupid animals every day? There’s never even one day’s break. I never have time to do anything I want to do,” Daniel grumbled as he struggled to lift a large bucket of oats into the feed trough. Dactyl ignored him. He poked in the straw looking for mice. The cattle ignored him, too, shuffling over to the feed trough.

  This was Dad’s life, thought Daniel as he headed to the feed room, not one he wanted for himself. Ed Bringham, the great farmer. Daniel had been sold on it, too, until he’d discovered paleontology, but now he didn’t have any qualms about choosing something different. It wasn’t his idea of fun to spend the rest of his life doing chores morning, noon, and night, seven days a week, like his father. It wouldn’t even matter if they sold most of their cows, he sighed, if they had to lease the land: there’d probably still be one or two around, and the chores would carry on.

  Dad was wrong about one thing, though. Daniel did want to keep the land, but he had other plans for it: do some archaeological exploration and search for dinosaur relics. He loved being able to walk in the pastures, too, and he wanted to know about everything that was part of the prairies: the plants, the birds, and the insects. Maybe even set up a nature refuge someday. There was a little bit of everything on their land. Sloughs, pasture, fields, trees, rocks, hills, and streams – all the ecosystems that Daniel would love to learn more about.

  Harrumph. He hoisted another heavy pail towards the trough, scraping along the metal sides. Just as he was struggling to lift it to the trough, Dad finished milking and walked over.

  “Here, let me help you with that.”

  Dad set down the pails of milk he’d been carrying and grabbed the bucket from Daniel. In one fell swoop, he hoisted it over the rim, and emptied the feed across the length of the trough, then stood back to watch the Holsteins chow down.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Daniel said, surprised by his sudden help.

  Dad gave Daniel a tight grin, and tousled his hair.

  All at once, Daniel felt the urge to blurt out part of his run-in with Pederson yesterday. He of course left out the part about his hideout and the reason he was there, and just zeroed in on the encounter. When he was finished, he wasn’t surprised when Dad told him to avoid the man.

  “He’s not quite right in the head, Son. I’m sure I’ve told you that before,” Dad said. “He’s been living out there on his quarter all by himself for the past few years. He hardly talks to anyone, and you know we never see him in town, except once or twice a year. He’s a loner, living off the land, hunting and fishing.”

  Lily mooed and shuffled against the railings and began chewing her cud.

  “Have you ever been to his place?” Daniel asked, stooping to pet the cats crowding his legs.

  “Once – he’s got a nice quarter, good pasture. But he doesn’t seem to use it for anything. I thought maybe I could make an arrangement with him. We sure could have used the extra pasture land to feed the cattle,” said Dad, as he carried the pails of milk across to the separating room, and closed the door so the cats wouldn’t get at them.

  When he returned, he said, “Listen, Son, I don’t want you going th
ere, you hear?”

  “I hear you, Dad, but what was it like?” Daniel gave the cats one last pet, then reached for a pail of oats to feed the horses.

  “He seemed to know I was coming. Stood in the door and wouldn’t let me in.”

  Daniel fed Gypsy, then Pepper, a large red roan. Then he set the empty pail down with a soft thud. Gypsy whinnied in appreciation of her breakfast. Daniel stroked her mane as she ate. Dad began forking clean straw into Pepper’s stall. The stallion snorted approval.

  “I only caught a glimpse of the inside of his place before he asked me to leave. It was pretty primitive. With old wooden chairs and such to sit on, and not much else.” Dad heaved another forkful of bedding into the stall.

  “How come he lives like that, do you think?” asked Daniel, as he brushed Gypsy’s flanks.

  “Maybe just living by himself too long since his wife died, I guess,” Dad replied, swinging another forkful.

  “When did she die?”

  “Four or five years ago, I think,” Dad said.

  “Did it happen in the hospital?” Daniel asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Dad answered. “You’d have to ask your mother. She’d probably know.”

  “Do you know how she died?” Daniel held his breath.

  “Some mysterious illness. Kept getting worse. It was like her whole system was being slowly poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” Daniel gasped and his heart jumped. “Did they ever find out what it was?”

  “No...no one is really sure what happened. The...”

  Brinng. Brinng. Dad’s cellphone.

  Daniel groaned inwardly. Now he wasn’t going to find out anything more. He poked the pitchfork around in the straw, trying to look like he was busy as he listened to Dad’s side of the conversation.

  “Hi Doug.” Dad listened intently for a few moments. “Sounds interesting. Yes, I planned to bring Libby along. Could be just what we need. Lord knows we have to do something.”

  Daniel slowed his pace even more, trying to understand what they were talking about, but he couldn’t make much sense from Dad’s end.

  “Yeah, thanks. Might as well be prepared. Not looking forward to that either. Bye.” Dad turned off his phone and closed it thoughtfully.

  Daniel eyed him, holding back from asking about the call.

  Dad slipped his cellphone back into his parka pocket, and reached for his fork again. “Maybe we should get extra bales down from the loft right now while we have some time. Doug Lindstrom just heard on the radio that there’s a storm approaching sometime in the next couple of days. And I know the temperature’s really supposed to drop tonight.”

  “Okay.” Daniel sighed, stabbed the fork into the newly cut bale, and gave it a twist before he tossed a load into the next stall. Just what he really wanted to do! Lug heavy bails down from the loft.

  As they hauled straw into the stalls, they worked together in silence. Daniel puffed at the exertion each time he threw a forkful, trying to keep up with Dad’s quick easy swings.

  After a while he asked, “How can Pederson afford to keep living on his place?”

  Dad kept working as he answered. “I don’t know how he pays his taxes Son, but I do know he probably owns that quarter and I doubt he ever borrowed any money to do any farming, so he wouldn’t have outstanding loans to pay off. His father was one of the first homesteaders in the area.”

  “His father. How old is Pederson anyway?” Daniel persisted, as he climbed onto the top railing and surveyed the barn.

  “My guess would be in his seventies, but no one seems to know for sure. He left the area for a long time. I suppose he lives on his pension now.” Dad set the pitchfork against the wall.

  “Okay, enough questions. Time to get back to work.”

  He strode to the back of the barn. “We have to get these chores done so we can have an early supper. Your mother and I have a meeting to go to tonight at the Lindstroms.”

  “About the oil company?” Daniel persisted.

  “Yes. You finish in here and I’ll water the horses outside. We’ll talk later.” Dad left the barn abruptly, snapping the door behind him before Daniel had a chance to ask anything more.

  ~

  At the supper table, Daniel squirmed in his seat, his butt slipping across the vinyl covering. Cheryl cooed in her high chair between him and Mom, playing with her mashed potatoes and gravy in her special bowl. Dad’s head was bent over his plate, while Mom tried to feed Cheryl.

  The kitchen was a large square, with the Formica table placed plunk in the middle and pale yellow cupboards stretching almost all the way around three sides. The only thing that had changed much since Daniel’s grandmother’s days were Mom’s touches of homemade wall hangings, oven mitts, and curtains in a soft orange draping over the windows, giving a warm glow to the room. The oven had been on for a couple of hours, and loaves of fresh bread lay steaming on the countertop next to an apple crumble – his favourite dessert, right after Saskatoon berry pie.

  Stabbing a sparerib from his chipped china plate – another kitchen relic left over from his grandmother’s days – he looked over at Dad and asked, “You’re not going to lease to those oil companies are you? It’ll wreck the land, you know. They’ll dig big holes everywhere, and ruin it. It won’t be good for anything.”

  Dad winced and pushed his empty plate away. “We don’t know yet what’s going to happen, Danny. Not until we hear what the company people have to say. I’m all for keeping our land, but the southwest quarter wouldn’t be too big of a loss. It isn’t much good for anything, anyway. Doesn’t even make great pasture land, unless we had more.”

  Daniel dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter. “But there’s lots of great things about it.” He felt a sudden pounding in his head.

  “Relax, Daniel,” Mom soothed, wiping the baby’s face and hands with a cloth. “We’re just going to find out more about it. We’re not going to make any rash decisions.”

  “Besides, Son, a few rocks and hills don’t mean much unless you can turn them into a paying proposition.” Dad pushed back his chair and stood up. “And raising cattle on them hasn’t worked well enough so far either. There’s never enough grazing land.”

  Daniel sat there with his mouth open as Dad headed towards the hall.

  “We’d better go, Libby.”

  “Okay, I’ll be ready in a jiffy,” Mom said, wiping Cheryl’s face and hands. Then she gave her a rattle to play with before she started clearing the food off the table.

  Daniel crumpled his napkin and stared at Mom. “Money isn’t all that important, you know.”

  “Your dad’s just looking out for us in the best way he knows how.” Mom gave him a sympathetic look.

  “But, Mom, he doesn’t understand what’s maybe out there in those hills. It’s way more important than money!” He rose from the table and began stacking the dishes, his usual after-supper chore.

  “He’s just trying to do whatever will help us stay on the farm. So keep that in mind.” Mom looked at him sternly, and then softened. “We’re only going to hear what these people have to say.” Then she hugged him.

  “Would you mind doing the dishes yourself tonight?” she asked, taking his baby sister from the high chair.

  Daniel felt annoyed. “I can’t come with you?”

  “No, you have school tomorrow, and I don’t know how late we’ll be.” Mom waited for his reply.

  “Oh, all right.” What was the point of arguing?

  “Thanks, Sweetie.”

  He stood stiffly as she gave him another hug with her free arm. Cheryl gave him a big smile, and he took her while Mom went to the hall closet for their coats. He could already hear Dad starting the truck in the driveway. As Mom bundled up Cheryl and hurried outside, Daniel turned to the dishes with a heavy sigh.

  After finishing, he helped himself to a large serving of apple crumble, and a Gatorade from the fridge. Then he wandered through the house with his snack. Everything was so still and q
uiet, except for the creaking of the maple floorboards as he headed through the dining room. He walked around the huge antique oak dining table, where Mom had arranged a bouquet of silk flowers in the centre, on a crocheted tablecloth. A matching china cabinet and sideboard sat together on one wall. Next to them hung a row of his school photos. He passed them and went through the double doorway into the adjoining living room. The television set sat on an angle in one corner.

  For the next hour, he sprawled on the orange and yellow flowered couch, sipping Gatorade, while he watched his favourite National Geographic show. When it was over he carried the dishes back to the kitchen, being careful not to leave any evidence that he’d been eating in the forbidden living room. Then he went upstairs to his bedroom and scoured his books for more about receptaculites.

  Every once in awhile, he’d get up and look out his bedroom window to see if he could spot headlights from his parents’ truck. At ten o’clock, he gave up on them and crawled into bed. He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, until he finally fell into a deep sleep with vivid dreams.

  ~

  He was crouched beside a large fern in a forest of cycads, dawn redwoods, sycamore, and cypress. The humid air made it hard to breathe. Odd screeches and sharp calls pierced the quiet. Sticky fronds scratched his face. As he pushed them aside, they felt cool, and smelled of moist grass. Through the dense foliage he saw a pale sun above the treetops.

  Suddenly, a great crashing through the underbrush sent him squeezing further under the ferns. He tucked himself into a tight ball. A series of thundering booms shook the earth. His heart thumped hard in his throat – a massive triceratops rumbled through the bushes towards him. Its immense head with three long horns, framed by a huge shoulder plate, turned in his direction.

  He held his breath and froze. He lay still and watched as the creature’s giant elephantlike feet crashed down a few inches away. At last it pounded past him, shaking the ground. When it was out of sight, he gasped and sucked in deep gulps of air while his chest heaved. Slowly, the forest became quiet again, except for the weird screeching birdcalls.