***
Twenty-five minutes later Henry delivered the group to the lodge. Then he checked his office for messages and contacted John Day Fossil Beds National Monument to leave word about the bones for one of their paleontologists. They always had one or two on staff at all times.
He jumped into his cherry-colored jeep and maneuvered the vehicle through the darkening park, making his last rounds of the day. It was another old habit from his time as a lowly park ranger that he couldn’t kick now that he was Chief.
There didn’t seem to be any lasting harm from the earthquake. All the buildings and landscape appeared unchanged. Some of the rangers had reported the quake, and reported no measurable damage. As Henry drove past, he could hear the campfire program in progress at the Mazama Campground. Indian Legends of the Park was the story topic for the night and all the park visitors seemed lost in George Redcrow’s vivid tales. Ranger Redcrow was a wonderful storyteller, and Henry’s best friend, even if the man was a superstitious know-it-all.
Henry pulled into Lost Creek Campground to look over the new arrivals and introduce himself. Didn’t take long. He enjoyed meeting the people who sometimes came from around the world to see Crater Lake. Being a ranger had brought him out of the shell he’d forged when he was a New York cop. Early on, he found he liked chatting with the visitors about anything and everything. Not only did he enjoy the social aspect of meeting them, but it helped him keep his finger on the pulse of the park and its needs.
He didn’t tarry long with the campers, though, home was calling.
The souvenir shops in Rim Village were closing for the day, and the restaurants were full for suppertime. Henry drove by the dormitories that housed over two hundred park employees, mostly young people working their summer vacations, though the workers’ ages had increased with local unemployment the last couple of years. Half the people in the surrounding towns seemed to be working in the park lately. They said there were no jobs left in the outside world.
Everything appeared quiet. Apparently the earthquake hadn’t left much of a mark down below in the park. Most visitors he inquired of said they’d hardly felt it.
Satisfied, Henry continued home, a place nestled on the fringe of the woods three miles past Rim Village. It was cozy and simple, fashioned from stone that was plentiful in the area. He pulled alongside the house as true night replaced twilight, releasing much colder temperatures and the nightly forest sounds.
Getting out of the jeep, he stood silently for a few minutes in the gloom under the trees. He treasured this place. Eight years ago he’d been a stressed out cop in New York City, overwhelmed with the gangs, scum-of-the-earth drug dealers and the never-ending rat race of big city life. In the end, the heartlessness of his job had affected Henry’s morale.
He’d gotten sick of the hypocrisy of police work long before that August night, chasing those punks through dilapidated welfare apartments, when the kid with the gun, who couldn’t have been but ten years old, had stepped out from a shadowy nowhere…and coldly shot him.
Henry had nearly died.
He’d told Ann from the hospital bed that he couldn’t live that way anymore.
Months later, after he’d recuperated, he was offered the job at Crater Lake. Then Ann confessed, with a hopeful smile, that she’d always wanted to live in the wild woods of Oregon. And that was that.
Their life was good now.
Through the screen door, Henry saw Ann setting the table for supper. She was a pretty woman, slim, not real tall, with short blond hair and light gray eyes. Henry noticed a touch of gray encroaching into the blond the last year or so. It looked good on her, matching her eyes. She had a soothing way of making everyone believe everything was all right. Nothing riled Ann.
Laura and Phoebe were in the house, too. They were there often since Laura’s husband, Chad, had run off a few months ago. Chad was a kid when they married and never could handle the responsibility. Once the baby came, he’d split. Laura hadn’t heard a word from him since.
Laura was helping her mother set the table while Phoebe, Henry’s granddaughter, sat trapped in her highchair, watching with big innocent brown eyes, a sad baby grin playing over her face. Her blond hair a soft cotton halo.
Ann looked up at Henry and smiled as he walked in the door. “I picked up some fried chicken and all the fixings at KFC on my way home. It’ll be ready in a jiff.”
“Good, I’m hungry as a bear.” Henry kissed his wife and hugged his daughter.
Laura had gained weight since her husband had abandoned her, but Henry could hardly say what he thought, that she looked like the Good Year Blimp. She always ate herself fat when she was depressed. It was a shame, he thought, because his daughter was a lovely woman, otherwise, with long chestnut brown hair and penetrating blue eyes.
Henry placed a kiss on Phoebe’s head. “Did you guys feel that earthquake?”
Ann nodded, a biscuit in her hand. “I worked later than usual, so I was at the newspaper when it hit. It shook the town. No real damage, though. Darn.” She snapped her fingers in disappointment. “Widespread destruction would have made terrific pictures for this week’s edition.” With a mischievous grin, she buttered the biscuit and put it to her mouth.
“You ghoul,” Henry teased. But he understood her desire to get a good story for the newspaper she worked for. Good stories boosted circulation.
Sweeping off his hat he placed it on top of the refrigerator. His jacket went across the back of the chair that he settled into.
“It rattled some glass in the gift shop,” his daughter confided, biting into a piece of chicken. She was already on her second helping of everything. “Didn’t break anything, though. Real mild.”
“Wasn’t as bad as I thought, then,” Henry muttered. “It was worse up on the rim. I was worried about all of you.”
“That’s sweet of you, honey,” his wife leaned over to lay a kiss on his cheek, “but we women can take care of ourselves, can’t we, Laura?”
“Well, it scared me,” Laura huffed between bites.
Phoebe grabbed at her grandpa’s arm. “Pa-pa,” she beseeched.
Henry released the baby from her highchair prison. As he settled her into his lap, she flung her chubby arms tight around his neck. He was happy that everyone was okay, happy to be home with his family.
Since Chad had taken off, he’d been trying to persuade Laura to live with him and Ann. But Laura, at twenty, was fiercely independent and hard-headed. She’d been that way all her life and wasn’t about to change.
Everything they ever wanted Laura to do, finish high school and go to college, meet a decent young man, Laura had done exactly the opposite. She dropped out of school at seventeen, ran away from home at eighteen to marry Chad because she was pregnant. Babies having babies.
In some ways, Henry and Ann blamed themselves for Laura’s rebelliousness. They thought they hadn’t left New York soon enough and it’d hurt Laura in the early years because she hadn’t gotten enough attention and supervision. Henry blamed himself because he hadn’t beaten the crap out of Chad the first time he’d laid eyes on him. The litany of guilt concerning his daughter went on and on.
But since Chad had left, Henry and Ann had come to believe they had a second chance with Laura. They accepted what most parents have to accept sooner or later–that it was possible to be the best parent you knew how to be and still have your kids mess up.
Ann had said all along that with time Laura would grow up, do what she had to do and be fine. She’d make it, in the end, because she was a smart, ambitious girl. Like many kids, her youth and her hormones had led her astray. Eventually, she’d wise up, face reality and get back in the game.
Ann was right. Laura was finally growing up. She was changing every day, taking responsibility for her actions and decisions. She wanted to do it on her own while Henry wished she’d let them help more.
Henry’s worries evaporated as the three women he loved most in the world vied for his attention.<
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He ate his chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw with gusto; fed and played with his granddaughter and listened to the women’s gossip. The three of them discussed their day. It was a ritual they looked forward to, eating supper together a few times a week and talking. Ann wanted to know about the earthquake, and Henry wanted to know about what was going on in town. Even Laura seemed in better spirits than she’d been in weeks, chatting more than usual about her job and people she’d met that day. She had a sense of humor and would tell funny stories about them which made Henry laugh.
Three hours later, when Laura and Phoebe were gone, Ann and Henry sat on the front porch swing, creaking back and forth, bundled in their coats and snuggling. Porch therapy, they called it.
The woods were pitch black, but a soft glow from the windows behind them spilled into the darkness. Ann pointed to a pair of glowing orbs at the fringe of the forest and a blurry shape hiding in the night’s shadows. Then there were two shadowy shapes.
“Look,” Ann whispered, squeezing Henry’s hand and pointing with the other. “Deer.”
The two humans held their breath and watched the night deer until a forest noise scared the animals off. They were always seeing wild animals from their porch. If they were still, quiet, in the mornings especially, raccoons and squirrels would scramble up, unafraid, and stare at them. Sometimes Ann would feed them. Throw out peanuts or raisins. Sometimes the animals would even run up and eat them.
Ann told him she once saw a black bear in the distance, which was where she wanted it to stay. She was terrified of the larger creatures, especially the ones with teeth and claws. A few times she’d seen bobcats and coyotes, but their appearances were unusual. They tended to avoid people. And no one had seen a grizzly in the park in years. They tended to stay in the back woods.
After the deer were gone, Ann divulged her secret, “Laura told me before she left she enrolled today in GED classes in town. Two nights a week beginning next week. One of her dorm friends is going to watch Phoebe.”
“About time,” Henry mumbled. “But I’m tickled to hear it.”
“She wants to go to night school afterwards. Wants to be a nurse’s assistant, maybe even a full-fledged nurse someday.”
Henry hugged his wife and placed a kiss on the tip of her cold nose. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year. I was wondering how long it’d take her to go back to school and get some real direction in her life.” Relief was in his voice.
“I agreed that, in a tight pinch, we’d be the back-up to watch the baby,” Ann added.
“Sure, no problem.” Henry didn’t mind watching Phoebe. She was a good child, easy to care for.
Out in the woods something big rustled through the foliage, then it was gone.
Ann put her foot down and stopped the swing. “That was something today, wasn’t it, that earthquake? The second one we’ve had in as many years. Though it wasn’t bad in town, it must have done some damage somewhere.”
“I thought as much, too.”
Henry could just make out his wife’s face in the light from the kitchen. A sharp wind ruffled her hair. To him she still looked like the woman he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. She was still beautiful to him, still sexy and vital. His mind wasn’t on what she was saying.
“Zeke read the news wires, checked the Internet. They suspect the most damage was done deep underground.” Zeke was the managing editor, and Ann’s boss, at the Klamath Falls Journal.
“Do they know where the epicenter of the earthquake was?” His attention captured by the serious tone in her voice.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she hesitated, then went on, “but the information we got at the paper said it was here in the park. The quake was a bad one. Under the lake.”
“I was afraid of that.” Henry released a sigh. “Up on the rim when it hit, it knocked a bunch of the visitors right on their butts.”
Ann didn’t laugh.
Henry remembered the wall of bones. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to tell Ann about it sooner. Too much on his mind with his daughter visiting and the earthquake, probably.
“You’ll never guess what the quake uncovered partway up the trail towards the rim.”
“What?”
“It ripped open the ground and now there’s this wall of…bones. I’m not sure, but I think they could be…prehistoric. Maybe even dinosaurs. Most astonishing thing I’ve ever seen. They’re so damn big.”
Now his wife laughed. “Dinosaur bones? Are you sure?”
“No, but they could be. I’m no expert, but as a kid I was really into fossils. Dinosaurs. Live and dead. I know more than the average person about the subject.”
“I don’t believe it. Dinosaur fossils. What a story. Henry, if it’s true, do you know what this could mean to the park? To all of us?”
“Oh, that’s the downside, I’m afraid I do. The discovery could screw up the whole park. We’ll be overrun by park authorities, reporters–no offense to you, honey–sightseers, scientists and bone nuts from all over the place. All of them wanting to dig up the bones and the rest of the park’s land, to boot.”
“I sympathize, but, aside from those problems and overpopulating your precious park, it’s a fantastic discovery. Look at it that way. You’ll have to take me up there so I can get some pictures.”
Henry moaned. “And so it begins.”
“Have you told anyone else yet?”
“Oh, I’ve put a request in to John Day’s for one of their paleontologists to come out. Take a look. Their paleontologists were gone by the time I called, but the secretary promised she’d give the staff the message. Someone will be sent out as soon as possible.”
“Great,” Ann said. “I want to get up there and get pictures before they make the entire area off limits. If it’s really dinosaur bones, they’ll section it off to keep everyone away. You know those paleontologists; they’ll want to keep the discovery and all the fame to themselves.”
Henry moaned again.
“So,” Ann coaxed, leaning in close and snuggling as extra incentive, “will you take me up there tomorrow, first thing?”
“Okay.” He gave in. He knew better than to keep Ann from a story. It was like trying to keep a cat away from catnip.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He chuckled, envisioning all those strange bones in the ground. Ancient remnants of the distant past. Dinosaurs. Remarkable.
“Did you know,” he spoke, becoming the passionate child again, “that the Apatosaurus, which means deceptive lizard, once known as the Brontosaurus, might have measured ninety feet in length, and weighed nearly 38 tons?” Grown up or not, he still loved thinking and talking about dinosaurs.
“Ninety feet. That big, huh?”
“Oh, and they believe the Diplodocus,” Henry continued happily, “also a herbivore, a plant-eater, could have been around ninety feet as well, with a whip-like tale forty-five feet long. And Brachiosaurus, from the same time, the Jurassic Period, could have weighed 100 tons.” Henry paused, “Come to think about it, I wonder what dinosaurs were common around here sixty-five million years ago?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea,” Ann responded. “Maybe that paleontologist you’ve sent for will know.”
“He might.” Henry yawned. “I can’t wait to get another look at those bones in the light.”
“I can’t wait to see them, either. I hope it’s sunny tomorrow. I want good clear pictures. Zeke will positively drool when I take them in. They’ll help our circulation for sure.” She leaned her head contentedly against Henry’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, do you know I love you because you never cease to surprise me?”
He laughed softly. “I hope you always love me and I hope I always surprise you.”
“Until we’re both old and gray,” Ann murmured the promise they gave to each other at every opportunity.
Henry embraced his wife, and whispered, “Isn’t it about time we go in?”
“Yeah, it has gotten pretty cold out here, hasn’t it?”
Their laughter mingled and, arm in arm, they went in to bed.
Dinosaur Lake Page 2