by David Fulk
Dr. Mahler reached her hand out to Mr. Fairfield, but never took her eyes off Rufus. “Pleasure.”
“Brantford Eliot, university president,” said the older man, also shaking Ben’s hand. “Looks to me like you folks have been having a bit of an adventure here.”
“You got that right,” said Sheriff Grimes sharply, as if hoping to remind everyone who was the official authority on the scene.
“Well, I can’t say I blame you,” said Dr. Eliot, beaming. “This is absolutely extraordinary!”
Dr. Mahler was still awed by the sight of Rufus surrounded by all those seventh graders. “Why isn’t somebody getting eaten?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” said the sheriff brusquely.
Martin’s classmates laughed. “He’s not really that dangerous,” said Audrey. Martin threw her a vaguely doubtful look. “I mean usually,” she said. “If you treat him well.”
Dr. Mahler edged her way over and stood among the kids, daring to gently touch Rufus’s coarse skin. Martin was about to tell her that wasn’t such a great idea, but Rufus was quite a bit calmer now, and didn’t seem to mind.
“Sorry it took me so long to get back here, guys,” Mr. Eckhart said to Martin and Audrey. “There was a bit of convincing to do.”
“How did you find us?” Martin said.
“Not too hard. Just followed the crowd. I hope I’m not too late.”
Martin wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. “Well…” Knowing his dad would be chiming in at any time, he looked over at him with a sullen frown.
Mr. Eckhart saw the look and stepped over to Martin’s parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Tinker, I presume?”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Tinker flatly.
“Guess you’re the ones to talk to,” said Mr. Eckhart with an awkward chuckle. “Um…well, here’s the thing. I talked this whole business over…I mean we talked it over, Syd and I—uh, Dr. Mahler—we discussed it with Dr. Eliot and, um…well, the whole board of regents, actually—”
“Oh, let me do it,” said Dr. Eliot, stepping in front of him. “Sir, you’re the current custodian of that magnificent creature, is that right?”
Mr. Tinker nodded.
Ben Fairfield lowered the tranquilizing gun. “Uh, actually—”
“Here’s what we can propose,” Dr. Eliot continued. “Our school has an academic exchange program with the University of Mérida in Mexico. And they have a five-hundred-acre plot of virgin rain forest in the Yucatán Peninsula that they let us use for research. Zoology, botany, what have you. Long story short, we feel it would be a perfect situation to move His Majesty permanently to the preserve.”
“The idea being,” said Dr. Mahler, “to study him in the closest thing to his natural environment.”
Mr. Fairfield jumped in. “Yeah, well, here’s the thing. You’re gonna have to—”
“Hold on just a minute, Ben,” Mr. Tinker said. “Let’s let the man talk, okay?”
Ben Fairfield looked dumbfounded. He wasn’t used to being shushed.
“Yes, yes, I know,” said Dr. Eliot. “No doubt you’re concerned about remuneration. I completely understand. I wish I could say here’s a check for gazillions. Unfortunately, the university charter doesn’t allow outlays for this type of thing.”
Mr. Tinker nodded slowly, giving no hint of what he was thinking. Even Martin couldn’t get a read on it.
“Now, it’s possible we can find a way to work around that,” said Dr. Eliot, “but I can make no guarantees. That’s the long and, I daresay, short of it.”
Mr. Eckhart spoke up. “It would certainly be the most humane situation for…um…”
“Rufus,” Martin and Audrey said at the same time.
Mr. and Mrs. Tinker remained silent. Martin kept staring at them, trying to figure out what they could possibly be thinking.
The silence was broken by Ben Fairfield’s gravelly voice. “Yeah, this is all well and good, folks, but unfortunately you’re talking to the wrong guy. These people have already made a financial arrangement with me for disposition of the beast. So, thanks for the thought, but no thanks. Right, Gordo?”
He tried to give a chummy grin to Martin’s dad, though he had to really work at it. Mr. Tinker squirmed a bit, let out a long breath, and gave a nervous cough. “Uhhh…” Everybody was still looking at him, which certainly wasn’t helping him think about it rationally.
Martin had never seen him so twitchy. Though he was still pretty angry, it occurred to him that it probably wasn’t so easy being in his dad’s shoes either.
Finally, Mr. Tinker spoke. “ ’Scuse us a sec.”
He took Mrs. Tinker aside, and the two of them whispered back and forth. It went on for a good minute or so, until Mr. Fairfield’s fake smile turned into an impatient glare. “Gordo.”
Martin’s dad looked at Ben sullenly, then turned to Dr. Eliot. “Your idea sounds okay, Professor,” he said quietly. “The thing is, my wife and I aren’t really in a position to give you an answer one way or the other. You’re going to have to talk to the owner of the dinosaur.”
Martin went rigid as his dad looked over at Ben Fairfield. “That’s him right there.”
Martin bit down hard, his fingernails digging into his palms, as the beginnings of a self-satisfied smirk appeared at the corners of Mr. Fairfield’s mouth. But before it made it all the way to a smile, Mr. Tinker’s left index finger went up in the air and snapped straight out—pointing directly at Martin.
In an instant, all the fire within Martin seemed to evaporate. Could this be? He felt the heavy knot in his throat loosen.
Audrey broke out in a huge smile, and so did most of their classmates. Some chuckled or whispered. A few applauded. Even Rufus seemed to perk up.
“Aha,” said Dr. Eliot, turning his attention to Martin. “So that would be you, sir?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone, here,” Ben Fairfield interjected loudly. “Gordon, I believe your memory is failing you. We made a deal. You shook my hand, and you took my deposit. Remember?”
“Uh, yeah, about that,” said Mr. Tinker. “I don’t think so.” He took Fairfield’s check out of his shirt pocket and held it out to him. Ben took a step back as though it were on fire.
“What do you mean, you don’t think so? A deal is a deal! Frank, you were there. Tell him!”
Sheriff Grimes seemed a bit surprised to be brought into it. “Uh, well…actually, Ben, I’m not sure exactly what the law says on that one. I think he has to actually cash it, or there has to be a written thing, or…I dunno. It’s a civil deal. Not my domain, eh?”
Some of the seventh graders laughed at this, but Mr. Fairfield’s face only got redder. “Don’t be a moron, Tinker! I’m offering you a big fat revenue stream for life. You want to throw away millions?”
“Ben, if it wasn’t for Martin, there’d be no dinosaur,” Mr. Tinker said calmly. “I’d say we owe him a fair shake out of this, wouldn’t you?”
“All right, all right! You wanna play hardball? I’ll double the advance, plus the split on revenue.”
Mr. Tinker said nothing.
“Fine!” Mr. Fairfield snapped. “We’ll rejigger the split. Fifty-five you, forty-five me.”
Martin’s dad gave a tiny snicker and shook his head, as though finally getting a joke he had heard some time ago.
“Sixty-forty!” Ben shouted. “Look, friend, this is not a good way to start a business relationship!”
Mr. Tinker looked at him coolly. “Ben, you just finished calling me a moron. You slugged a defenseless animal with a stick, you insulted my wife, and you pointed a weapon at my son. Can you give me one good reason why I would want to be in a business relationship with you?”
With perfect timing, Rufus made a hacking sound that sounded almost like a laugh—and the surrounding kids picked up on it and had a good laugh of their own.
Ben Fairfield was not laughing. Spewing a string of unrepeatables, he flung the dart gun to the ground and sp
un away from the others.
“Ben, really,” said Mrs. Tinker. “There are kids here.”
Mr. Eckhart stepped over to Martin. “So what do you think, Martin? Yucatán?”
Martin felt everybody’s eyes on him, and it made him a little nervous. This was a decision he’d been desperately hoping he could make, but now that he was being asked to actually make it, he was feeling a heavy weight of responsibility.
“You asked me to find a good place for him,” Mr. Eckhart went on. “I’d say this is pretty good.”
“Will he be happy there?”
“Can’t say for sure, but—”
“A lot happier than he’d be around here,” Dr. Mahler interjected, while running her hand lightly over Rufus’s upper back.
“Especially when December rolls around,” Mr. Eckhart added with a smile.
Suddenly, Rufus gave a testy snort and snapped at Dr. Mahler—who jumped away in a flash. “Hoh! Okay, moving on…”
The kids hopped back too, and the policemen reached for their guns.
“No, it’s okay!” Martin shouted. “He’s okay! He’s just a little crowded.” He petted Rufus gently on the curve of his lower back. “We’re okay,” he said quietly. “Right, boy? Everything’s good.”
Rufus calmed down immediately. But Martin couldn’t escape the thought that his big friend, this closest pal he’d ever had, was no longer the playful little lizard he had kept hidden in the barn.
He exchanged a rueful look with Audrey. He knew she was thinking the same thing he was.
She turned to Mr. Eckhart. “Can we visit him?”
Dr. Mahler and Mr. Eckhart both looked to Dr. Eliot, and he gave a grandfatherly grin. “I don’t see why not.”
Martin looked at Rufus, who lowered his head to sniff at a patch of dandelions.
“So?” said Mr. Eckhart. “What’s the verdict?”
Martin felt like there was one more thing he had to do before saying anything else. “Just a sec.” He leaned over, gently put his hand on Rufus’s neck, and whispered something in his reptilian ear cavity. Rufus stood still, as though he was actually listening—although it might have just been a busy anthill down there that was holding his attention. Then, all of a sudden, his head jerked up and he lurched forward with a loud explosion of air shooting from his nostrils—a jumbo Jurassic sneeze that made everybody jump.
“He says yes,” Martin said, and everyone laughed. Mr. Eckhart reached out his hand, and as Martin shook it, he felt that giant weight of responsibility being lifted away, and he broke into his first real smile in what seemed like days.
Now a wave of curious energy swept through the crowd of kids. They pressed in around Martin and Audrey and started peppering them with questions. “Where did you guys get him?” “Where did you keep him?” “What does he eat?” “Can I touch him?” Martin and Audrey did their best to answer, but the questions came so fast that they couldn’t keep up. For now, though, Martin was perfectly content just to bask in the sunlight of his new and strange role of star of the seventh grade.
Ben Fairfield was still steaming. “Last chance, Gordon. You can honor our deal or be a big loser for the rest of your life. Which is it gonna be?”
Mr. Tinker looked unruffled. “Guess it’s gonna be loser.”
“You got it, pal. You are fired!”
“Thank you, Ben,” said Martin’s dad. “Saves me having to tell you to take a long hike off a short pier.” Mrs. Tinker faked a cough to cover up a snicker.
“Yeah, that’s real funny. Hey, I’ve got a good one: that’s not the end of this. Come on,” Ben said to Jasper and Ollie as he marched away. When he noticed they weren’t following him, he turned and gave them a look that could torch an iceberg. That got them going, and they followed him across the field and out the gate.
Martin saw his dad hold up Ben’s check, scrutinizing it with a look of nagging doubt, and maybe even some regret. “Hey, we’ll be okay,” Mrs. Tinker reassured him. “It’ll work out.” She leaned her forehead on his shoulder and reached her arms around him, squeezing hard.
Sheriff Grimes and his officers just stood there, looking like they weren’t quite sure what they were supposed to do at this point. They kept an eye on Rufus, but he didn’t seem like that much of a danger now.
To Martin, it seemed like Rufus was actually enjoying all the attention—which was exactly how he was feeling himself. Though he knew he would soon have to say good-bye to his prehistoric friend, for now he was perfectly happy to answer questions and show off his unusual pet to his classmates and the professors. (And yes—now a lopsided grin had even found its way onto Donald’s unruly face.)
Over at the field entrance, the police officer allowed a small swarm of news reporters with their camera crews through the gate, and they rushed on the scene and started chattering away—though keeping a safe distance from Rufus. Then a man’s voice rose up above the general din.
“Audrey!”
J.B. and Jade Blanchard pushed past the reporters and ran toward the kids and Rufus.
“Daddy!” Audrey shouted, running straight into a giant bear hug with her dad and sister—who couldn’t seem to decide whether to be more thrilled to find that Audrey was okay, or more astonished to see Rufus and his posse of young admirers.
Martin smiled wistfully at the sight of the Blanchards huddled together. Then he looked again at his parents, standing hand in hand while calmly watching the strange scene taking place around the tall T. rex, just a few short strides in front of them. He locked gazes with his dad, who threw him a crooked little smile and a wink.
If you didn’t know the Tinkers, you might not think much about that wink. But it was something Martin hadn’t seen from his dad in a long, long time, and he didn’t have to catch a football to earn it.
EPILOGUE
ONE WEEK LATER
The sun beat down like a giant flamethrower, and the air was thick with humidity. That was nothing unusual in this part of the world, but it sure felt alien to Martin as he strode slowly across the grassy clearing. Rufus lumbered along next to him, and Audrey kept pace on the other side. When the three of them got to the edge of the clearing, they stopped, looking into the dense, forbidding thicket of trees just a few steps ahead.
A lot of questions suddenly popped into Martin’s head, but when he turned around to ask, he saw that the people who might answer were not right behind him, as he had thought, but were standing in a group on the other side of the clearing. Mr. and Mrs. Tinker, J.B. and Jade Blanchard, Mr. Eckhart, Dr. Mahler, and a few other professors and scientists were waiting patiently. When Jade raised her phone and started snapping photos, Martin knew this was meant as a moment for himself and Audrey, and no one else.
He looked over at Audrey with an uncertain expression, and she looked back with a strained grin, though her eyes looked sadder than he had ever seen them. It made him aware of the lump in his own throat, and he tried hard to swallow it.
He looked up at Rufus. “Don’t worry, boy,” he said, barely above a whisper. “We won’t forget you.”
Rufus seemed a bit disoriented. Who could blame him? He’d been shipped in a special cage on a special plane, then hauled in a special truck on a bumpy dirt road…and now here he was, in a strange new place. This plainly was not Menominee Springs. Yet there was something about the forest in front of him that seemed to intrigue him.
Martin and Audrey both came at him at once, one on each side, awkwardly delivering heartfelt hugs to his hug-resistant frame.
“This is your home now,” said Martin. “It’s time for you to go. Go on.”
Rufus’s dark eyes scanned the wall of trees, as though trying to decide what to make of it. He twitched and snorted, then looked down at Martin and Audrey.
“Go, Rufus!” Audrey said.
Rufus took one more look at the jungle, then threw his head back and let out a mighty ROAR that echoed through the trees. Bobbing his head once, he took a slow step forward, then another, and then another.
“Bye, Rufus!” Audrey called. “Be good!”
“G’bye, boy!” Martin shouted. “We’ll come visit, we promise!”
The closer Rufus got to the forest, the heavier Martin’s heart became. He couldn’t help thinking of Orville the hamster, and now that same feeling of stinging loss was hitting him again. But it wasn’t exactly the same, because he knew Rufus was still there, and he was probably going to do just fine. It was the end of the best time of Martin’s life…but maybe the beginning of something even better.
Everybody watched as Rufus reached the edge of the forest and took a careful step into the brush. A few jungle birds were sounding the alarm, but all the humans stayed perfectly still and quiet. Martin glanced back at his parents, and he could tell from their faces that even they were feeling a little sad.
Rufus pushed his way slowly in among the trees, moving forward step by hesitant step, and soon all anybody could see in the foliage was a single patch of grayish-brown skin on his back. Audrey couldn’t hold back a fluttery sniff, and Martin tried another swallow against that stubborn lump.
The scaly patch faded and shrank as the big creature ambled farther into the hazy greenery.
Then the patch disappeared, but Martin could still make out the very tip of Rufus’s tail, flicking lightly against a wide, drooping leaf.
And then, in an instant…he was gone.
The two of them stood there staring into the forest, trying to compose themselves before heading back to join the others. They both took a deep breath and, at exactly the same time, exhaled with a quiet, rueful sigh.
“Holy mama…,” she said.
“Ai-yai-yai…,” he said.
They looked at each other and laughed a little, which helped break the sadness of the moment. Then, as they looked back at the forest one more time, Martin felt a strange sensation in the palm of his left hand, something warm and soft and almost jarringly unfamiliar. It took him a couple of seconds to realize it was Audrey’s hand, grasping his.
It was nothing at all like a spear or a football or a bug net. It felt nice.