Raising Rufus

by David Fulk

  His seat was right behind Audrey Blanchard’s, and as he stared into her back, suddenly his eyes opened wide and his forehead crinkled up. Martin caught a glimpse of his face, and knew all too well from experience that that expression meant trouble. After throwing a devilish grin across the aisle to his buddy Nate, Donald slowly leaned forward and ever so carefully pushed the thumbtack through the hem of Audrey’s yellow linen skirt and deep into the wood of her chair.

  Donald and Nate could barely keep from cracking up at what they hoped and expected would come next. And they didn’t have to wait long, because it was only a few seconds later when Ms. Olerud turned back to the class.

  “Okay, who thinks they can diagram it?”

  Audrey’s hand sprang up, as usual.

  “Audrey. Give it a shot.”

  Audrey’s fate was sealed. As she got up and headed for the board, the sound reverberated throughout the classroom: rrrriiiiippppp!!!

  The whole class broke out in a roar of laughter as Audrey looked down at her badly tattered skirt. Grimacing, she quickly grabbed the torn pieces of fabric and pushed them back together, twisting herself into a pretzel to try to preserve some shred of modesty.

  “All right, that’s enough!” Ms. Olerud barked. “Quiet!”

  But it was too late. The laugh fest had taken on a life of its own.

  Ms. Olerud didn’t catch on to Donald’s treachery. “Come on, honey,” she said as she led Audrey, face as red as her hair and lips all twisted, toward the door. “You kids are being very mean!”

  Audrey took one sidelong glance at the roomful of laughing faces, all bug-eyed and stretched out like grotesque circus clowns, as she and Ms. Olerud went out. There was only one person who knew what Audrey must have felt like, and he wasn’t laughing at all. That was Martin Tinker.

  —

  The final bell rang, and kids exploded out of the building in a big, noisy, joyous blob. Summer at last!

  Not one for such mindless displays of emotion, Martin walked out calmly amid the jubilant crowd, his now-empty backpack in his hand, trying his best to dodge all the flying knees and elbows. But he had barely reached the bottom of the steps when he heard a familiar voice right behind him.

  “Get rid of this, Tinkleberry! It’s summer!”

  With one lightning-quick move, Donald Grimes snatched away Martin’s backpack and heaved it up in the air—where the strap caught neatly on a branch of a big elm tree hanging over the fence into the schoolyard. Delighted with his perfect aim, Donald let out a shrill “Wooo-hoooo!” and lumbered on his way.

  Except for the occasional butt pinch or ear flick, Donald hadn’t hassled Martin all that much for the past few weeks. And Martin had figured he wouldn’t bother with it on a happy day like this one, so he had let his guard down. Oh, well.

  With a sigh, he trudged over and looked up at his tree-borne backpack. He tried jumping up to grab it, but it was just out of reach. So he jumped again…still not quite. He made a few more jumps, feeling like an idiot—and drawing laughs from some of the nearby kids—but never quite getting his hand on it.

  Suddenly, a short, heavy stick flew up and thwacked on the backpack. It came loose from the branch and plopped at his feet. He looked to his left, and there stood Audrey Blanchard—her skirt neatly reassembled with safety pins, her freckled face carrying a strange, unreadable expression.

  “Thanks,” Martin muttered self-consciously as he picked up his bag and headed out the gate. He figured that would be the end of that, but he was a bit startled to notice she was walking right next to him—and even more startled when she spoke.

  “How come you didn’t laugh?”

  “Huh?”

  “You were the only one.”

  “Wasn’t that funny.”

  They walked on in silence. Martin could feel the sweat building up in his pores. He and Audrey hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words since the day she arrived—the last time they’d spoken at all was when he ran off after she helped with his fallen books. Why was she talking to him now? Hoping to end it, he quickly cut across the street. But five seconds later, there she was again, walking right behind him. He walked faster. So did she. He tried to ignore her, but when he got a strange sensation and glanced back, there she was, doing a comical imitation of his mopey walk. She gave him an impish smile, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

  With a dramatic sigh, she put it straight to him.

  “Martin, what is the deal with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t get you. You’re the only one who’s ever sort of, like, almost nice to me, but then you won’t even talk to me.”

  “I’m talking to you now.”

  “This is not talking. This is me throwing out words and you slapping them away like bugs. I mean, geez. You act like you don’t even want any friends.”

  “Nobody wants to be friends with me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “They all think I’m weird.”

  “Really? They call me Tippi Tomato. How do you think that feels?”

  “I dunno.”

  “But at least I’m trying. With you it’s like, you just gave up or something. I mean, you do want friends, don’t you?”

  Martin’s brain seized up. She was touching a nerve here.

  “Okay,” she said, “I’ll start. Hi, Martin. Wanna do something?”

  Actually, what he had been hoping to do, since he didn’t have to work today, was go home and spend some time with his nonspeaking friend. But he wasn’t thinking straight in the stress of the moment, and he couldn’t figure out how to say no.

  They decided to go hang out at Martin’s house for a while, since it had been a short school day and his mom wouldn’t be home for at least a few hours. It was a fifteen-minute walk to get there, and to his surprise and relief, talking to her was easier than he expected. Actually, Audrey did most of the talking, and by the time they got there he knew more about her than he figured he would ever need. Her dad was a lineman for the power company; her mom died when she was three; her middle name was Alicia; she was allergic to cows; her favorite color was purple; she could sing “Yellow Submarine” in three languages.

  When they got to Martin’s house, they headed straight for the kitchen, sat down at the table, and started fixing themselves a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

  “Jade never lets me eat stuff like this,” Audrey declared. Jade, she had told him on the way over, was her seventeen-year-old sister, an eleventh grader at Menominee Springs High.

  “Why?”

  “She says it’s junky. I think it’s okay, though. I mean, nuts, fruit…healthy, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  There was a brief silence as they both spread the strawberry jam across the bread.

  “So what’s the deal with the pencil?” he asked.

  “What about it?”

  “It’s always there.”

  She shrugged. “You never know when you might need to jot something down.” Her eyebrows went up. “Speaking of which…”

  She pulled a little notepad out of her skirt pocket, touched the pencil tip to her tongue, and started scribbling.

  He leaned over to try to get a peek, but she pulled it back. He tried leaning in farther, and she pulled back even more. She smiled, and they both giggled.

  “Quick, what’s this?” She pocketed the pad, stuck her fingers in the sides of her mouth, and twisted her face into a jack-o’-lantern.

  “What.”

  “Donald Grimes on a really good day.”

  They both had a good laugh at that one. Martin realized he wasn’t feeling quite so tense anymore.

  “So what do you wanna do?” she asked.

  “Well…we could watch The Simpsons.”

  “Mm, nah…that’s boring. Anyway, Jade says too much TV rots your brain.”

  “Jade is like your mom, huh?”

  “Yeah…my dad’s always working, so she takes care of me. Stinky job
, but somebody’s gotta do it, right?”

  They both smiled, and then went quiet again. Not one to let a silence stand, Audrey spoke.

  “So what do you do when you’re not at school?”

  “Hmm, well…some days I work at the Trout Palace.”

  “Yeah? I’ve never been there. Is it fun?”

  “It’s okay,” he said with a tiny shrug. “What about you?”

  “Well, let’s see…I like to read, and I like to write. I’m working on my first great novel.”

  Martin nodded. Now the pencil made sense. He was about to ask her what her novel was about, but she spoke up first.

  “Your turn. What else?”

  “What else what?”

  “What else do you do, dummy?”

  “Oh, you know…this and that.”

  “Like?”

  “Just…whatever.”

  “Martin…”

  “I collect stuff.”

  “What kind?”

  “Rocks…bugs…leaves.”

  “Can I see?”

  “Mm…not that much to see, really.”

  “You’re being modest, right?”

  “No.”

  “I want to see. Let me see.”

  Martin wasn’t so sure he wanted anybody else in that barn. It was his private space.

  On the other hand, he was proud of his collections, so why not show them off for a change? And as for Rufus…well, he was safely locked away on the lower level, so there was no reason to worry that the big secret would get out.

  So off they went to the barn.

  —

  As Martin showed her his collections, he found himself doing a lot of talking—well, for him, anyway. He was kind of surprised that Audrey actually seemed interested, even when he called things by their scientific names. She loved the butterflies, especially the tiger swallowtail and the red admiral. And when he opened up the rock collection, she immediately gave a little gasp and picked one of them up, a beautiful, sparkling crystal.

  “What’s this one?”

  “Amethyst.”

  “Wow! I love purple,” she reminded him.

  “You can have it.”

  “Really? No.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve got another one.”

  “Wow. Thanks, Martin!” She scanned over the other stones in their mounting boxes. “This stuff is so cool. Where did you get it?”

  “Out in the woods.”

  “You go in the woods?”

  He nodded.

  “My dad would never let me do that. He thinks the woods are full of, like, mad killers and whatever. What’s this?” She picked up Rufus’s growth chart, which Martin had completely forgotten was sitting on the table in plain sight. He snatched it away and put it facedown on the shelf.

  “Oh, that’s nothing. Just…one of my…projects.”

  He just knew she would start asking questions, but another thought grabbed her.

  “Oh! I should probably call Jade.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t have my own phone. Can I use your—”

  Yerp!

  The sound was kind of like a chirp from a big bird, or maybe a bark from a small dog.

  “What’s that?”

  “Hm?”

  He knew exactly what it was, but he was almost as surprised by it as she was. Rufus had never made a sound like that before. And when he did make noises, it was only when Martin went down there. Rufus must have heard the voices, and was wondering where his supper was.

  Yerp!

  “There!” said Audrey. “That.”

  “I didn’t hear anything. Know what, I left my phone in the house. Let’s just—”

  He tried to hustle her out of there, but Rufus was not cooperating.

  YERP!

  “Martin! There’s an animal in here.”

  “Oh, that? No, that’s just…um…” Martin desperately needed a good lie. But his mind went totally blank. So he said the only words that came into his head. “That’s my, um…lizard.”

  “You have a lizard? Can I see him?”

  “Ohhhh…nah, you don’t wanna—”

  “Yes, I do. I love animals. Come on, Martin. Let me see your lizard.”

  Martin realized that his big secret was about to be a secret no more. But he also knew, in the back of his mind, that maybe he kind of wanted it to happen this way. He really needed somebody he could trust, and even though he wasn’t totally sure that Audrey was the one, she was the only candidate just now.

  He led her to the other end of the barn and unloaded a few bricks from the top of a pile. Underneath was a stack of unopened cans of Fido-Nummy.

  “You can see him,” he said as he lifted out one of the cans, “but you can’t say one word to anybody, okay?”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not supposed to have a pet.”

  “You feed your lizard dog food?”

  “He’s not your usual lizard.”

  They stepped over to the trapdoor and Martin lifted it open.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of him. He’s big and he looks kind of mean, but he’s not dangerous or anything.”

  “Martin, I’m not some delicate petunia. I’m not afraid of an old lizard.”

  He climbed down the creaky wooden steps, and she followed. They reached the floor and stood facing each other, the shafts of afternoon sunlight streaming in through the high, recessed windows. For a few seconds, it was very quiet.

  “So? Where’s the cage?” she said.

  “He’s not in a cage.”

  “Okay, so…let’s see him.”

  “Don’t turn around real fast.”

  “Ha ha, funny. Come on, just show—”

  A puff of moist air washed over the back of her neck, and she froze.

  Rufus was right behind her, sniffing out this odd new creature in his lair. Standing on his sturdy hind legs, he was now a good four feet tall—not much shorter than they were—and with his full array of claws and sharp teeth, there was no mistaking what kind of beast he was.

  So when Audrey slowly turned around and found herself face to face with a wide set of razorlike choppers and a pair of red reptilian eyes, she did what any normal girl would do: she let out a piercing scream that could wake the dead.

  Rufus gave a loud hiss and bolted in the other direction, trying to climb a pile of junk but just stumbling around clumsily. Audrey, meanwhile, darted behind Martin.

  “Get it away get it away get it away!”

  “Shhhh! You have to be quiet!” He went over to try to calm his jumpy dino.

  “Martin, what is that?!”

  “My lizard, I told you.”

  “You call that a lizard?”

  “A dinosaur, actually.”

  “A what?”

  Rufus seemed in a near panic, desperately trying to climb a wall to escape this noisy human. Martin gently put his arms around him.

  “Rufus, relax. She’s not going to hurt you.”

  “A dinosaur?”

  “Come on, boy, you have to meet her. She’s not so bad.”

  “Oh, thanks. Ai-yai-yai…”

  Rufus calmed down a bit, and Martin managed to pull him toward Audrey—who let out an unsteady “Gahhh” and backed away.

  “Stay there,” Martin said. “He needs to know you’re not afraid.”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  “You did.” He kept edging Rufus toward her. “Come on, boy. She won’t bite you. I promise.”

  “I won’t bite him?”

  “See?…She’s just a girl.”

  He got Rufus just close enough to Audrey so he could stretch out and give her another good sniff. She stood there like a toy soldier at attention and emitted the tiniest of squeaks.

  “You can pet him.” He gently ran his hand across the back of Rufus’s head. “Try it.”

  “I’m not touching that thing.”

  “It’s okay. He likes it. And he really likes this.”

  He scratched Ru
fus under the chin, and the big creature tilted his head back and squinted his eyes like a contented basset hound.

  Audrey looked like she was watching somebody eat a worm. “You know what, Martin? You are weird.”

  “Go ahead.”

  She swallowed hard and very slowly reached her hand toward Rufus. But before she could touch him, he gave a sharp hiss and snapped his teeth, backing her off in a hurry.

  Martin gave him a little smack on the snout. “No! Bad T. rex. We don’t bite people. Roger that?”

  “Did you just say T. rex?”

  Rufus seemed a bit calmer now, so Martin gently pushed him toward her again.

  “Okay. Try it.”

  “Pass!”

  “He’ll be okay now. I promise.”

  She exhaled deeply, rolled her eyes, and slowly reached for Rufus’s head one more time. Rufus kept an eye on her, but he didn’t complain this time as she touched the tips of her fingers to the back of his neck and stiffly stroked up and down, a lemon-puckered look on her face.

  “See?” Martin said. “He likes it.”

  “I don’t believe this. I’m petting a vicious prehistoric beast.”

  “He’s not vicious.”

  “Martin, this is majorly crazy. Dinosaurs are extinct.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  She gasped and jerked back as Rufus suddenly broke away and went after the can Martin had put on the ground.

  “Slow down, Rufus,” he said as he pulled the top off the can and got set to whip up a good dino lunch.

  —

  It didn’t take long for Rufus to polish off his meal, or for Audrey to start feeling a bit more comfortable around him. Martin told her all about the quarry and the egg, and how Rufus had imprinted on him as soon as he hatched. Rufus seemed to get more comfortable with Audrey, too, and before long they were like three old friends, just hanging out on an early June afternoon.

  Martin was glad he had let Audrey in on his secret; she seemed like somebody he could talk to, and he felt confident she wouldn’t blab.

  “Do you ever take him outside?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “He’d probably run away, huh.”

  “I don’t think he would. He’s really attached to me.”