Dinosaur Stakeout (2 page)

Craig shuffled behind his brother, sullenly letting his ­shoulder-­length brown hair fall over his eyes. The stocky ­fifteen-­year-­old nodded at Daniel as he picked up a second fork and began cleaning out a ­stall.

They all worked quietly for a few minutes. The only sounds came from the scraping of pitchforks on the wooden floor, the
squirt
,
squirt
of milk hitting the metal pail, and the soft mews of the kittens as they chased one another through the loose straw. Dust motes floated in the air, caught on the sunbeams flowing from a high, small window. Daniel glanced over at the brothers across the barn in the subdued light of the interior. He could see they’d rolled up their sleeves and were working ­industriously.

When he was done milking Lily, Daniel gave her a pat on the rump and moved over to Daisy. Robotically, he milked the second cow while she stood placidly chewing her cud. A few moments later, Dactyl came through the open sliding door to investigate. He sniffed Todd and Craig all over as they petted him eagerly, then he wandered about the barn examining the ­stalls.

“Dactyl!” Daniel called ­softly.

Wagging his tail happily, Dactyl came over and licked Daniel’s face. Daniel gave Dactyl a nudge with his shoulder and continued milking Daisy. His pet wandered back outside, and gave chase to some crows that had landed on a nearby fencepost. From the pasture just beyond the barn, Gypsy, his grey pinto mare, whinnied anxiously for her ­breakfast.

Daniel’s stomach rumbled too and he quickly finished milking. Releasing Lily and Daisy to wander back into the fenced part of the farmyard, he stepped outside to pour some milk into an old tin saucer for the kittens and Marble, the mother cat. Then he dropped the pails of milk inside the separating room. With a quick backward glance at the Nelwins, he walked outside to feed Gypsy and the older horse, ­Pepper.

When Daniel headed back to the separating room, a shaft of daylight shone across Todd and Craig. Daniel looked more closely at the pair and noticed there were bruises on Craig’s arms. He approached the brothers, who were talking together, but as he drew closer, they went silent again. At least they were keeping up their end of the work bargain so far. What was going on with them wasn’t any of his ­business.

Some minutes later, Daniel finished separating the milk. Dismantling the machine, he left the components to soak in the hot water provided by Dad earlier. Mom would finish washing them later when she fed the chickens and gathered eggs. When she had to be at work at the hospital early, these tasks became Daniel’s, and he was relieved that he didn’t have to do them today. Many families in the community just bought milk products and eggs at the store, but the Bringhams preferred fresh, ­home-­produced foods wherever ­possible.

“I’m going in for breakfast now,” Daniel said, carrying the pails of milk and cream to the door. The boys continued to work, barely acknowledging ­him.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. He turned back to the brothers. “Have you eaten?”

More mumbles came from the brothers with a general nod of their heads that Daniel could only take to mean they had. Thoughtfully, Daniel limped across the yard towards the house. How had Craig got the ­bruises?

In the kitchen, he sat down beside Cheryl in her high chair and helped himself to muffins and chunks of juicy cantaloupe. Shortly afterwards, Dad came in and joined them at the table. Cheryl poked at the muffin, broke a piece off and popped it into her mouth, then offered a chunk to Daniel, her blue eyes sparkling with
mischief. She laughed as he took a big bite and chomped
it ­down.

There was a knock on the door and Ole Pederson appeared. He was ­clean-­shaven and his white wisps of hair were patted down. His grey eyes twinkled with ­anticipation.

“Anything for you, Ole?” Mom ­asked.

“Just coffee,” he answered, sitting next to Daniel. “Had breakfast some time ago.”

As Mom poured the steaming brown liquid, she glanced out the window at the sound of a tractor starting ­up.

“That’ll be the Nelwins hauling the stoneboat to the manure pile,” Dad said, without getting up to look. “They’re done in good time.”

“Guess it makes a difference with three of you doing the work.” Mom smiled at ­Daniel.

He nodded with a wry look on his face. “Sure is a hard way to get some help!” Daniel declared, pointing to his bruises, as they all ­laughed.

“Do you know if they’ve had breakfast?” Mom asked ­Daniel.

“I think so,” he answered, passing the plate of fruit to Mr. Pederson. “At least, that’s what they said.”

Without a word, Mom poured juice into two disposable glasses, grabbed a couple of serviettes, and a paper plate, placed four muffins and a stack of fruit on it, and headed out the door. Dad and Ole Pederson didn’t seem to notice. Daniel stared after her with ­curiosity.

A few minutes later, he peeked out the window and saw Mom heading back to the house ­empty-­handed. So the Nelwins hadn’t eaten breakfast after ­all.

When Daniel’s mom reappeared in the kitchen, he thought she looked ­upset.

“Something wrong, Libby?” Daniel’s dad ­asked.

“It’s the Nelwins. I don’t think they had any breakfast before they left.”

“That’s not good. We’ll have to feed them well when they’re working here.”

“Yes,” she said, “we can certainly do that.”

Pederson addressed Daniel. “So, you all set to go?”

“You bet!”

Dad consulted a sheet of paper at his elbow. “The first guests will be here in an hour or so. They’re doing the quarry tour, and some hikes, and are camping here tonight.”

“How many are there?” asked ­Daniel.

“Looks like two adults and their two young children.”

“Piece of cake!” said Daniel. He thought about his best friend Jed and his sister Lucy, coming to help as ­guides.

“Yes, but there are twenty other groups coming throughout the day!”

“Whoa!” Daniel took the last bite of his muffin. All three of them would be busy keeping track of the visitors, while the adults did their respective ­jobs.

Dad continued reading down the list as they finished their ­breakfast.

“Most are staying over,” he said. “Then there are the ones that may just drop in.”

“We have our work cut out for us today!” Ole Pederson said. “So let’s get to it!” He downed the last of his coffee and shuffled to his ­feet.

Daniel felt the excitement ripple through his body. Sharing their paleontological finds with others was a thrill, although maybe not as exhilarating as seeing the creatures in the flesh. He had learned a great deal about dinosaurs by flipping into prehistoric time and would love to know more, but he could do without the danger. Going
to the ancient past again was out of the question ­anyway – ­
since he’d tossed away the scrap of redwood bark on his last trip. He had no way to get back, and no way to return. Still, a little part of his adventurous spirit wished he could find a way to go back one more time. The rest of him was relieved it could never happen ­again.

Chapter Two

“
A
penny for your thoughts,”
said Ole Pederson when they stepped into the bright sunshine of the farmyard. Dad had stayed behind to have a last minute conversation with Mom, so they were ­alone.

“Just thinking about seeing live dinosaurs,” Daniel said ­quietly.

Pederson cocked his head and waited for Daniel to ­continue.

“Mr. Pederson, do you believe I’ve been going back to prehistoric time?” Daniel asked ­tentatively.

The old man took his time responding, as they sauntered over to his old Studebaker ­truck.

“I don’t know what to think, Daniel. I can’t imagine how you could have. Yet you certainly experienced something. Do
you
think it was real?”

“Sure felt like it,” answered Daniel. “It was just like you and I standing here now. I’ve had dreams, but they weren’t that vivid.” He eyed Mr. Pederson, waiting for his ­reaction.

“I’ve never experienced anything like it, but this old world is a strange place and I’ve always tried to keep an open mind. So I suppose, why not this?” said Pederson, unloading the equipment he’d take with him for the ­day.

“I can’t think of any other likely explanation,” said Daniel, watching the old man. He was pretty sure Pederson believed ­him.

Pederson raised his eyebrows. “Indeed, how would you have acquired some of those cuts and bruises during your episode otherwise? The Nelwins sure aren’t responsible for all of them. I know it’s not your imagination and you surely couldn’t do that to yourself.”

He patted Daniel on the shoulder. “I never would have thought it possible. But I’m glad that’s behind us and it won’t happen again.”

“Me too,” replied Daniel, feeling happy and relieved now that his friend and mentor accepted the truth about his travels. Then he looked at Mr. Pederson and asked, “Would you have liked to go, if you’d had the chance?”

“Who wouldn’t want to explore knowledge like that ­first-­hand?” Mr. Pederson hoisted his pack onto his back. “But this is a great time to experience too, lad.”

Then, drawing his arm across the skyline encompassing the farmyard, the campsite, and the direction of the quarry, he said, “This quarry operation is enough of an accomplishment for me.”

Pederson adjusted his backpack and they stood in companionable silence, each lost in his own ­thoughts.

Moments later, the Lindstrom family pulled into the driveway. They parked their bright red Chevrolet Silverado crew-cab truck in the shade behind the combination outdoor kitchen and snack bar. Jed’s family poured out of the truck, all chattering at once. Dactyl barked excitedly, running from one to another, wagging his ­tail.

Mom came from the house with a huge coffee urn, headed for the outdoor kitchen. Greta Lindstrom, Jed’s mom, followed from the truck with large plastic containers of baking. The two youngest daughters, Leanne and Lindsay, came behind with bags of groceries containing fresh fruit, vegetables, homemade bread, and assorted condiments. Lucy carried a portfolio under her arm, and she and Jed joined Daniel and Mr. ­Pederson.

They could see Jed’s dad, Doug Lindstrom, coming slowly down the road in a ­beat-­up old jeep with a string of trotting quarter horses tied behind. These gentle animals would be used for the tourists, while the guides rode Gypsy or Pepper. When Doug Lindstrom arrived in the yard, Dad jumped into the jeep with him and they drove at a snail’s pace down the winding trail towards the campsite halfway down the valley. Meanwhile, Ole Pederson gathered Daniel, Jed, and Lucy around ­him.

“All right, team, are you ready to go?” Ole Pederson asked, eyeing each of them. “Lucy, tourist maps and info sheets?”

Lucy opened up the satchel and held up a sheaf of papers. “Ready!”

“Check!” said Pederson. “Jed?”

“Ready to go, sir!” He dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it to reveal a map with special markings on it. The plan was to give their guests the best view and include botanical sights along the way, while at the same time preserving the natural ­habitat.

Pederson nodded at Jed. “Good!”

Then he turned to Daniel with a twinkle in his eyes. “I already know you’re revved up!”

“Who’s taking the first group?” Lucy asked, turning ­businesslike.

“That will depend on what the guests ­want – ­if they’re hiking on foot, or want the horseback ­trail – ­and what all of you decide.” Pederson replied. He obviously didn’t want to choose between ­them.

“I’ll go over the information and rules with them,” Lucy volunteered. “Then if either Jed or Daniel wants to take them, that’s okay with me.”

“Why don’t you take them, Jed?” Daniel offered. “I have to get the Nelwins started at cleaning my hideout.”

“You’re sure?” Jed said eagerly, tucking in his shirt and patting down his fair curly ­hair.

Daniel nodded. He could see the Nelwins out of the corner of his eye. Todd jumped off the parked tractor as he approached, and Craig closed the barn door firmly. “You’ll do fine! I’ll be just a whistle away.”

The three guides had devised a sequence of whistling with their fingers to alert each other when they needed help. Pederson also had a code, if he needed ­them.