“We will make a bit of money,” Gram explains. “It will help us build Peanut’s habitat. I don’t know how we’d pay for it otherwise.”
“See?” PopPop says. “Things have a way of working out.”
Sam and I give each other a high five.
“I’m going to be a movie star,” Sam says.
“It’s a documentary,” I say.
“I’m going to be a documentary star!” she yells.
…
The next morning, I stay home with Peanut and Saurus so Sam can go to the dig site. After lunch, we’ll switch and I’ll get to go.
Saurus and Peanut don’t like watching documentaries as much as I do, so we go outside to play.
A tall wooden fence surrounds the backyard. We can’t see out, and no one can see in. That’s a good thing when you’re hiding a dinosaur.
Peanut runs around. He digs. He poops and pees. He eats the bushes. All normal dinosaur behavior.
I pick up a bright green Frisbee and throw it over his head.
“Fetch, Peanut.” Peanut doesn’t fetch because fetching is not normal dinosaur behavior.
“What do you guys want to do?” I ask Peanut and Saurus.
They don’t answer. But another voice does.
“I see your dinosaur.”
The voice is Mary’s.
“It’s a cat!” I yell.
“I see your cat too,” she says. “He’s cute.”
I grab Peanut. “No dinosaur here!” I yell. I open the back door and drop Peanut inside the kitchen.
He gives me an angry look.
“Where’d the dinosaur go?” Mary asks. I can see her eyeball through a small hole in the wooden fence.
I push the gate open.
“Hi,” I say. “Do you want to see my cat?”
“I want to see your dinosaur.” Mary walks into the backyard.
“There is no dinosaur. Just a cat.”
“I saw a blue dinosaur,” Mary says. “Or maybe he was green. He had a button on his nose.”
“It was a toy. Do you want to hold my cat?” I shove Saurus at Mary.
“What’s his name?” she asks.
“Saurus, and she’s a girl cat. She came here with me from North Carolina. She’s fluffy and sneaky and lazy. She’s also my best friend.”
“I like her name,” Mary says.
I walk Mary over to the swings. She never lets go of Saurus. Mary is little, but I’m still worried that she could squeeze Saurus to death.
“She’s a good kitty,” Mary says. She sits down on a swing, with Saurus stuck in her lap.
“The best.”
“Can I see the dinosaur now?” Mary will not give up.
“Sorry, Mary,” I say. “Saurus is just named for a dinosaur. There is no dinosaur here.”
Her face gets all scrunched up. I think she’s going to cry. Then she smiles again.
“Do you want to see my dinosaur?” she asks.
This kid is crazy. That is what I would have said before I found my own dinosaur.
“Is it a stuffed animal dinosaur?” I ask. I have forty-eight stuffed dinosaurs at home. I don’t tell Mary that.
“My dinosaur is real. I’ll show you.” Mary looks down at Saurus. “But you can’t bring your cat. My dinosaur might eat her.”
Saurus jumps off Mary’s lap and runs up a tree. Sometimes I think my cat can understand English.
“Fine,” I say. “Let’s go see your dinosaur.”
“Okay,” Mary says. “You have to promise to keep this a secret. Mommy and Daddy don’t like to tell people.”
“I promise.” We seal the deal with a pinky shake.
I follow Mary to the Starks’ RV, which is sitting in the DECoW parking lot. It’s as long as a bus. That is still not a lot of room for a dinosaur.
Mary doesn’t go into the RV. She goes to the trailer parked next to it. There is a horse painted on the trailer’s side.
“He’s in here.” She pulls open the door.
Something growls.
“That doesn’t sound like a horse,” I say.
“It’s not. It’s a rapper.” Mary waves me inside.
“A rapper?” I ask.
“Yep. Don’t be afraid,” Mary says.
“I’m not.” I am!
It’s dark inside the trailer. My eyes need to get used to no light. Then I see him, and he’s awesome.
Mary’s rapper is actually a Velociraptor. My knees shake because I know a lot about dinosaurs and science. Velociraptors eat meat, and I’m made of meat.
“This is Mike,” Mary says proudly. “He is my dinosaur.”
Mike the Veloci-raptor is the size of a fat turkey, only longer. He is covered in feathers and has a pointy snout. His sharp teeth shine. On each of his back feet is a large round claw that is meant to tear open flesh.
Mike doesn’t move. He stares at me. His head is tilted to the side like he is thinking.
A hundred questions run through my brain. They all try to come out at the same time. “Wha…hun…whe…?”
“I knew you’d like him,” Mary says. She opens a cabinet on the wall and pulls out a box of dog treats.
“Where did you get him?” I ask.
“Mommy and Daddy found him before I was born. He is from All-Straw-La.”
“Do you mean Australia?” I ask.
“That is what I said,” Mary replies.
“Is he friendly?” I ask. Mike still hasn’t moved. I don’t think he has even blinked.
“He’s the nicest dinosaur in the whole wide world.” Mary gives him a dog treat and a hug around the neck.
Mike makes a rumbly noise. I think it’s a happy noise. I hope it is, because this dinosaur has razor-sharp teeth and claws that could slice us open.
“What does he eat?” I ask. “Other than dog treats?” I know Velociraptors ate small animals. I’m not small, but my fingers are.
“He likes hamburgers,” Mary says.
Suddenly, Mike lifts his head like he hears something. Saurus does the same thing when we open a can of cat food.
“Mary?” Mr. Stark calls from outside the trailer. “Mary?”
“Uh-oh,” Mary says. “I’m not supposed to visit Mike without Mommy or Daddy. Quick. Hide.”
The trailer doesn’t have a lot of places to hide. There is a doghouse in the corner. I guess it’s a dino house. It’s plastic and shaped like an igloo.
“In there!” I point to the dino house.
Mary and I crawl inside. Mike’s red and blue feathers cover the floor.
The door to the trailer opens. Mike runs in circles like an excited puppy.
“Mary?” Mr. Stark calls.
I hold my breath. Mostly because I don’t want to get caught. Also, because it’s stinky in the dino house.
Mr. Stark doesn’t come inside the trailer. He closes the door and calls Mary’s name again.
Mary and I tumble out of the dino house. Mike rushes over and checks me out. He nudges me with his nose and licks my ear. I hope I don’t taste like food.
“You better go to your dad,” I say to Mary. “He will get worried if he can’t find you.”
“Okay,” Mary says. “Will you come over and play with Mike and me again?”
“Definitely!”
“Don’t tell anyone about Mike. Remember, you promised.” Mary holds up her pinky finger.
“I won’t.” I cross my heart.
“Last time I showed Mike to a friend, Mommy and Daddy made us leave the next day. I don’t want to leave again.”
“I don’t want you to leave either.”
When I walk into the house, Peanut jumps onto me. Gram and PopPop are in the living room. They’re not smiling.
“Where have you been?” PopPop asks.
“You can’t leave Peanut alone,” Gram adds. “He chewed up a kitchen chair. He ate it like it was a stalk of celery.”
I can’t answer PopPop’s question because Peanut is going nuts. He sniffs my clothes, my shoes, and my
hair. He scratches at my shirt. He snorts when he smells my ear.
“It’s okay, Peanut.” I set him down, and he attacks my shoelaces.
“What is wrong with him?” PopPop asks.
“He smells something he doesn’t like. Dinosaurs have a much better sense of smell than us.” Gram puts her hands on her hips. “Would you like to explain?”
Sam runs into the room. She shoves her plastic microphone in my face. “Frank Mudd, are you hiding something from your grandparents?”
I push the microphone away. I told Mary I wouldn’t tell anyone about Mike. She made me pinky promise. I don’t know what to do.
It feels like I stand there for an hour waiting for my brain to come up with an idea.
“Frank?” Gram says.
I crack under the pressure.
“The Starks have a dinosaur!” I yell. “A Velociraptor!”
I expected everyone to scream and get excited. Instead, they just stare at me.
“He’s about this big.” I hold out my arms. “He has red and blue feathers. He eats dog treats. And they call him Mike.” Which isn’t a very good name for a dinosaur. I would have named him Slash or Big V.
PopPop looks at Gram. She shakes her head.
“It’s not possible,” she mumbles. But I can tell she believes me a little.
“Well, Mike wouldn’t be the first.” PopPop shrugs.
“Actually, he would,” I say. “He’s older than Peanut. Mike is at least five.”
“And where do they keep this red-and-blue dinosaur?” Sam asks into her microphone.
“In a trailer,” I say. “It’s got a horse painted on the side. Probably to fool people.”
“You mean that trailer?” Sam points out the front door. “The one driving away?”
I run out onto the porch. The Starks’ Jeep pulls the trailer down the street. A cloud of brown dust follows.
“Oh no! They’re leaving. Mary said this would happen if I told anyone. But I didn’t expect it to be this quick.” I pull on Gram’s sleeve. “Get the truck. We can still catch them.”
“Hold your dinosaurs, Frank.” PopPop grabs my shoulders and spins me around. “That’s the Starks’ RV right there. They didn’t leave.”
PopPop is right. The RV is still in the DECoW parking lot.
“Maybe we should go talk to the Starks,” Gram says. “Clear up all this Velociraptor business.”
“Or,” I say, “maybe you could just believe me and not say anything. That way Mary won’t get in trouble. You don’t want to get Mary in trouble, do you?”
Sam and I follow Gram and PopPop to the RV. I guess they’re not worried about getting Mary in trouble.
PopPop is about to knock on the Starks’ door when it swings open.
“Hi there,” Mrs. Stark says with a big smile. “I’m almost done with lunch and ready to get back to that fossil.”
“Us too,” Gram says.
“And let me thank you again for letting us set up here,” Mrs. Stark says. “I hope it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” PopPop says.
“Where is the horse trailer?” Gram asks.
Mrs. Stark keeps smiling. “Neil and Mary took it into town. It needs some repairs.”
“What do you keep in there?” Gram asks.
“Equipment,” Mrs. Stark says quickly.
“Frank said he saw a Velociraptor in your trailer,” Sam says.
“A Velociraptor?” Mrs. Stark says.
“Yeah,” Sam says. “It’s a kind of dinosaur.”
Mrs. Stark laughs. “I know what a Velociraptor is, Sam. I just don’t know why Frank would think we have one.”
“Because I saw it.” My voice wobbles.
“Okay,” Mrs. Stark says. “We have a little secret. We have a pet we didn’t tell you about because he makes some people a bit nervous. We have an Andean condor.”
“That is a type of bird. A vulture,” Gram says. “You have a pet vulture?”
“His name is Mike,” Mrs. Stark says. “We found him years ago. He was injured and we took him in. Mary thinks he’s a dinosaur. Sorry if she confused you, Frank.”
For a second, I wonder if I was wrong. Is Mike really an Andean condor? No way. I know a dinosaur when I see one. I’m an expert. But I need to see him one more time just to make sure.
I secretly borrow Gram’s laptop to look up the Andean condor. The minute I see a picture, I know that is not the animal I saw in the Starks’ trailer. Mike is bigger than this bird. He is also more colorful and has longer legs and sharp teeth. I have never seen a Velociraptor before. But I’m sure I saw one today.
The next day, all us humans, except PopPop, head to the dig site. Peanut stays in his pen in the garage. He doesn’t like it. He growls and moans when I leave him.
At the site, Mr. Stark has one camera set up on the edge of the pit. He carries another camera on his shoulder. Mrs. Stark runs wires to a computer.
Sam instantly forgets that the fossil is the star of the show, not her.
“This is Sam McCarthy, reporting live from Wyoming.” She holds her plastic microphone.
“It’s not live,” I point out.
“The cameras aren’t even on yet,” Aaron adds. We called him last night and told him all about the Starks and their documentary. I think Aaron is excited—I’ve never seen him with combed hair before.
“Hey, Frank!” Sam yells. “Look, a dinosaur!” She points to a couple of hawks flying around. She laughs so hard, she almost falls into the pit.
“What is so funny?” Aaron asks.
“Dino expert Frank Mudd can’t even tell a bird from a dinosaur,” Sam says. She thinks this is super funny. I don’t.
“The Starks have a dinosaur,” I say. “And I’m going to prove it. I just need to find the trailer.” Mr. Stark and Mary drove back to DECoW last night but without the trailer. I don’t believe Mrs. Stark’s story that it needs to be fixed.
“And how are you going to find the trailer?” Sam asks. “This is Wyoming. It’s a big place.”
“Well, there’s someone who knows where the trailer is,” I say.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stark aren’t going to tell you where they’re hiding their bird,” Sam says.
I shake my head. “I’m talking about Mary.”
We can’t see Mary, but we can hear her. She’s singing on the other side of the dig. We find her playing with some old toy trucks.
“Hi,” she says when we walk over. “I’m playing construction site. Do you want to play with me?”
“I love playing construction site.” Aaron plops down next to her. He picks up a cement truck from the pile.
“Mary,” Sam says, “is there really a dinosaur in your trailer?”
Mary smiles at me and holds up her pinky to remind me of the promise.
“You can trust them, Mary,” I say. “They’re bad at following rules. But good at keeping secrets.”
Sam leans over Mary and gives her the evil eye. “Tell us, kid!”
Mary laughs. Sam is trying to be scary. Mary just thinks we’re all very funny.
“Do you know where the trailer is?” I ask.
Mary nods. But then we’re interrupted.
“What is going on here?” Mrs. Stark walks up behind us. “Mary?”
“Hi, Mommy,” Mary says. “I’m playing construction site.”
“Good.” Mrs. Stark looks at me. “Mary needs to play alone today, kids. She is in a time-out.”
“A really, really, really, really long one,” Mary says.
I want to ask why, but I think I already know the answer.
As we start walking away, Mary pulls on my sock. I stop. She hands me a folded note and says, “Shhh.”
I hide the note in my pocket just in time. Mrs. Stark turns around and gives me a long, scary stare.
“Frank,” she says. “I hope you know how important this project is to us and to DECoW.”
I nod.
“Good. Now let’s focus on the fos
sils and not worry about any stories Mary may have told you. Got it?” Mrs. Stark says.
“Got it.” I try to walk away, but she steps in front of me.
“I’m serious.” Mrs. Stark sounds like a mean substitute teacher. “If I hear any more talk about raptors, we are leaving.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Mrs. Stark is scarier than a meat-eating dinosaur.
At lunchtime, Sam and I go back to the house to check on Peanut. I think the Starks were happy to see us go because Sam kept accidentally stepping in front of the camera.
We take Peanut into the backyard so he can do his business. That means go poop and pee. I get the lettuce, grass, and twig mix from the fridge. Gram makes this special for him. We call it Peanut’s salad.
There are no grown-ups around, so I can finally read Mary’s note.
“What is that?” Sam asks.
“It’s from Mary.” The note isn’t really a note. It doesn’t have words, only a picture.
Sam steals the paper from me. “Mary isn’t really an artist.”
“She’s a great artist,” I sort of lie. “I know exactly what this is.”
“What?” she asks.
“Well, that is the dinosaur.” I point to Mike.
“You mean bird.” Sam laughs.
I ignore her. “And that is a tree. There is a cloud. And that is the Great Wall of China.”
“So it’s in China?” Sam shakes her head. “This isn’t very helpful.”
The Great Wall of China? That didn’t make sense. Then the answer pops into my brain.
“I got it!” I shout. “That isn’t the Great Wall. It’s a fence.”
“But which fence?” Sam asks.
There are a lot of fences around here. Most of them are made of wire. I know of only one made of stone.
“This must be the stone fence around the old house,” I say.
“Awesome!” Sam’s eyes get big. I worry they might fall out of her head.
The old house is on the corner of Gram and PopPop’s land. Actually, it was on the corner of their land. PopPop was born in the house, but it burned down a long time ago. The only thing left is the stone chimney, two wells, and the stone fence.
The Dino Files #2 Page 2