“What’s down Pirate Alley now?” Kathy asked.
“Not much. A café, a bar, a mask shop. The other side of the alley is an iron fence surrounding St. Anthony’s Garden,” Dave said.
“Well, we can’t stay here. Those bifold doors in the front have chains with locks keeping us from closing them. They don’t look very sturdy anyway,” Kathy said.
“If we leave out the back, we might make it over to my place. It’s a few streets over and a block or two toward the river,” Dave said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Kathy said. “Are you coming with us?” she asked Stinky.
Frowning, the man said, “Why wouldn’t I? We’re a team.”
“You’re a team of one,” Kathy said, holding back a few other sentiments. Before Stinky had a chance at rebuttal, she said, “Get your ass in gear and let’s go.”
Leading the way, Kathy felt light-headed as she stepped toward the rear. Maybe that one drink she drank had more of a punch than she originally thought.
Stinky pulled himself up, planted his butt on the bar, and then bailed off onto the other side. He reached and grabbed his cup, fueling up with a couple of gulps before tagging behind Dave and Kathy.
The rear doors’ sign read, ALARM WILL SOUND WHEN OPENED. Of course, no alarm had gone off earlier, so there was no reason to worry about that now.
Kathy waited for Stinky’s arrival, but Dave walked past her.
The rear doors resembled two large barn doors. Dave slowly opened the nearest door. He looked out to the right and then turned his head to the left.
A horrible shriek from outside sent Kathy back against the wall.
Dave jerked his head inside and closed the door so fast it bumped his forehead.
“What was that?” Kathy asked, her hand over her heart.
Dave stood partially frozen, his fists hovering above his chest. Taking a deep breath, he said in a shaky voice, “I…think it was a Utahraptor.”
“Utah-rapper?” Stinky said.
“U-tah-rap-tor,” Dave said.
“Utah like the state Utah?” Stinky asked.
“Yes.”
“Why’d they call it Utahraptor? Because it had multiple wives or something like that?” Stinky asked.
Dave closed his eyes and his chest deflated. “No, you simpleton.” His words had seethed from his lips. Gaining his composure, he said, “They named it that because the first fossils were found in Utah—back around nineteen seventy-five, I think.”
This was the first time Kathy had seen the young man show emotion. So far he acted as if he was a wandering observer in life where nothing on the outside affected him. “That thing scared you, didn’t it?”
Dave nodded and cautiously chuckled. “Yeah, it did at that. It was so close. I know I only got a glimpse of it, but…” He rubbed his chin. “It’s big—tall as a man, but its body is over twice as long as it stands. The Utahraptor has bird characteristics, with short arms covered with feathers and a long feathered tail. I didn’t have time to look at its claws. I know fossils they’ve found have claws measuring twenty-four centimeters.”
“How long is that in American?” Stinky asked.
“Over nine inches,” Dave said. “I did get to see its teeth. Each tooth was bigger than my thumb.”
Stinky held his thumb up and looked at it. “That’s some pretty big choppers, right there.”
The Utahraptor cried right outside the doors.
Kathy and Dave both jumped.
Stinky stopped mid-suck on his straw.
The raptor hit the doors, which seemed to momentarily buckle inward.
Kathy saw the fear on Dave’s face and thought she was looking in a mirror.
The doors were pounded upon again, and a black claw poked through splintering wood near midway.
“These doors must be almost a hundred years old. The Utahraptor will punch through them like they’re cardboard,” Dave said.
No one had to tell Kathy twice. “Stinky, move it out of here!”
Fortunately, Stinky pushed his obstination aside and led the way; maintaining a two-hand grip on his drink.
Dave followed on his heels.
Wood cracked then crackled. The Utahraptor was busting through!
Just as Kathy followed Dave outside, she saw a young black woman and an older white man standing near the triceratops. She only had enough extra breath to yell, “Run!”
Chapter 7
T-Bob Buche had been working at the Audubon Zoo for the last fifteen years. Getting a job there wasn’t easy for someone in his circumstance. His mother had to go through the state to petition the Audubon Nature Institute to allow a special needs adult the opportunity.
The Institute didn’t give T-Bob the position. He had to earn it—had to prove to be capable of taking orders, performing tasks, and care properly for the animals. That was no problem for him. The years of remedial schooling to help him adjust to a world that ticked at a pace just a little too fast had prepared him well. It didn’t hurt that he had a deep passion for caring for animals.
In fact, if anyone were to ask him his honest feelings, he’d say that he preferred animals to people. People could be mean; not like a scared animal who was only trying to protect itself. People had treated him awful—making fun of the way he looked and when he just didn’t understand why they didn’t want to be his friends.
“Excuse me. Can you tell us where the dinosaur exhibit is? I have an old map, and it doesn’t show it,” a man built to play linebacker for the New Orleans Saints asked. He stood next to a pretty woman notably shorter than him. The woman held the hand of a cute girl probably not older than ten. The girl’s long braids cascaded down her back.
“Hello, my name is T-Bob. You sure picked a nice day to come to the zoo.”
“Yeah. I’m glad there’s no chance of rain today. I don’t get many days off with my job,” the man said.
“You don’t have to work as much as you do. You chose to work all of that overtime,” the woman said and then tightened her lips and stared at the man.
The man looked down at the sidewalk and shook his head; obviously holding back a defense. He looked up at T-Bob, and said, “We took a riverboat up here. My daughter’s been dying to see the new dinosaur exhibit. Which is…?”
“Oh, that’s not far from where we are. Just follow that sidewalk and stay left,” T-Bob said and pointed. “You’ll come up to a new sign that’ll tell you right where to go.”
“Thanks,” the man said.
T-Bob lowered his head toward the little girl. “Hello, my name is T-Bob. My dad’s name is Bob, so they called me T-Bob. You know, because I was little Bob when I was born. What’s your name?”
The little girl’s eyes brightened. “My name is Keesha. Keesha means great joy,” she said matter-of-factly.
“You sound like a smart girl. Your dad says you like dinosaurs. What’s your favorite dinosaur?” T-Bob asked.
“I like the brontosaurus because they were nice dinosaurs. They ate leaves and other plants. They weren’t mean like that scary tyrannosaurus. Plus,” Keesha spread her arms and raised them to the sky, “they were as big as a house.”
“I like the brontosaurus too,” T-Bob said.
“Uh, it’s been nice talking to you,” the man said. “I guess we better be getting on. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before the riverboat comes back to pick us up.”
“It’s been nice talking to you,” T-Bob said and watched them walk past. He lifted his hand and waved. “Bye, Keesha.”
As her mother pulled Keesha along, she turned her head and said, “Bye.”
The smile on her face made T-Bob’s heart melt. It must be nice having a wife and kids, he thought. He knew he was special and couldn’t have kids.
His mother told him to pretend animals were his children. At home, he had three inside cats and two outside dogs. They were all strays, and he gave them a home. The pets couldn’t have children either. So, they were all just one big happy family.
<
br /> T-Bob looked at his watch and saw it was nearing time to give snacks to the big cats. As he marched down the sidewalk, a warm wind blasted unexpectedly and rattled the trees. Leaves shook free of the branches and paratrooped around him.
T-Bob looked up to the sky. Something didn’t feel right. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was wrong.
Then, T-Bob heard the territorial, foghorn-like growl coming from the albino alligator exhibit. Something had disturbed it too.
A hippopotamus expressed its anxiety with its laugh-like bellow, prompting a lion to unleash a vicious roar, and an elephant to sound its trumpet-like warning.
T-Bob picked up his pace. Cold chills walked up his spine, just like the time a bear broke free of its cage, and no one knew where it was for half a day.
*
Broderick Brown stretched his elbows behind his back and yawned. Today was his first day off from work in over three weeks. Pulling twelve-hour shifts at the Shell refinery offered Dionne, his wife, and daughter, Keesha, a comfortable life. Working those long periods without a day off also took a toll on his body. He so wanted to sleep in before spending the day with his family. But, his body had adjusted to waking up at 4 a.m. every morning, and today was no exception. He eventually got out of bed at 6 a.m., becoming tired of staring at the ceiling.
“What time did you go to sleep last night?” Dionne asked while keeping an eye on Keesha as she ran around underneath a sixty-foot replica of a brontosaurus.
Breaking from his reverie, Broderick said, “Huh? Uh, I fell asleep on my couch around eight.”
“Shift work isn’t only destroying our marriage, its also shortening your life,” Dionne said.
“Well, I certainly would sleep better in my own bed and not that sleeper-sofa in the apartment.”
Dionne turned her gaze to him, and said, “Don’t try to guilt your way into coming back home. The only time we got to see you was when you worked days. But then you came in, showered, ate, and then fell asleep on your easy-chair. You hardly spoke a word to us, and when you did, you were just a big grump.”
“I’ve got to work to pay the bills. I don’t have a college education, and no one else will pay as much as the refinery,” Broderick said, realizing his caustic tone would not add any points to his defense.
“But do you have to work nearly every day of your life?”
“You just don’t understand. We’re short-handed right now. There’s a turnaround on another unit, and some of the guys went over there. We’ve got to man our unit. Plus, if I want to get into management, I need to be there whenever they need me.”
“You’ve been telling me they’re short-handed for the last ten years.” Dionne’s ire suddenly melted. She closed her eyes and held back tears. Composing herself, she said, “I don’t want to fight anymore. I…isn’t there some way you can get a straight day job? A job where you can be home every afternoon with Keesha and me? A job where you can spend time with your friends and family on weekends? I’m tired of living my life like a single parent.”
Broderick rubbed his brow. He felt Dionne’s anguish and could only imagine Keesha’s disappointment in him not being a stronger presence in her life. But what was he to do? Many times he was forced to work, just because no one else was available. Though he was honest enough to admit, he hated to pass up on any overtime. It was like leaving money on the table, and his sense of greed wouldn’t allow him to do that. But that way of thinking had gotten him where he was today—living alone in some cheap apartment. Why was he working so hard to be so miserable?
“Dionne, I don’t know if I can do enough to fix things between us. There’s only so much control I have at work over my schedule. But I can tell you this,” now he fought to hold back tears, “when I get back to work on Monday, I’ll see if I can get on a shift that might keep me from working more of my off days.”
“You will? Seriously?” she asked.
The disbelief in her voice hurt Broderick to the core. This might be the last chance he had at saving his marriage. He hoped to goodness he could deliver on his commitment. “I promise.” He meant what he said, but he knew deep down that passing on overtime would challenge him like an alcoholic passing on free booze.
“Daddy,” Keesha called. “Come see this funny looking lizard.” Then, she gasped.
Broderick turned his gaze over to his daughter. She had moved away from the brontosaurus and over to some low hedges.
He felt so weak, he wanted to fall on his knees and beg forgiveness for failing his family.
But Dionne had turned one eye to him. Her gaze let him know she timed how fast he responded to his daughter’s request.
“I’m coming, baby,” Broderick said, straightening his shoulders, and going to the beck and call of his daughter’s needs under the watchful eye of his assessor.
As he approached, something rustled through the hedges. “What was it?”
Keesha bit her lip and bobbed her head as she tried to see past foliage. “Shoot, it ran away.”
“Was it one of those green lizards the cat likes to leave at the doormat?” Broderick asked.
“No, Daddy. Those lizards have four legs and are flat on the ground. At first, I thought it was a lizard that stood on two legs and had short arms. Then, I saw its tail when it ran off. It was a baby dinosaur.”
“You’re pulling my leg, right?” Broderick then laughed.
“No, Daddy. I’m serious. It looked like a baby compsognathus.”
“A what?
“Compsognathus. Comp-sog-na-thus,” Keesha said.
Broderick looked over at Dionne’s accusing gaze. Had his relationship with his daughter suffered so badly that she resorted to making up stories to vie for his attention? Turning back to Keesha, he said, “Baby, dinosaurs don’t exist anymore. You know that.”
“But I saw it!” Keesha said.
“You’ve got dinosaurs on the brain. You just made a mistake. Maybe somebody’s pet iguana got loose, and that’s what you saw.”
Keesha’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “Daddy,” her voice shook, “there’s a troodon coming up behind you.”
Okay, now things were going too far. “Keesha, you and I need to have a little talk. Making up stories—”
“Broderick!” Dionne screamed.
He turned and saw the interloper. At first, his mind worked double-speed trying to make sense of it. They were at a dinosaur exhibit at the zoo, and he had seen more than enough stationary recreations, along with a few with animated features. As much as he wanted to make the dinosaur before him a man-made robot, the fluid motion of the creature and the sharp teeth lining its open mouth forced him to accept the impossible.
His heart skipped a few beats as he raised his hands toward the troodon and yelled out a warning.
Dionne darted behind him and hugged tightly onto Keesha.
The troodon moved with uncertainty forward. Its reptilian head slowly snaked from side to side, and its beady yellow eyes fixated on the humans before it. The claws on its three-fingered hands looked deadly but didn’t compare to the claws on its feet.
There weren’t as many people at the zoo today as Broderick had expected, which now proved to be a blessing. Knowing the consequences of his next move, he looked quickly about to make sure there weren’t any innocent bystanders in the background.
The troodon’s bravery increased to the point of attack. It hissed in defiance and sped toward its prey.
Reaching underneath his shirt, Broderick pulled a pistol from the pancake holster in the small of his back. He brought the .45 caliber up, flicking the switch on the laser. The green light raced about the troodon’s chest until he steadied his aim with his left hand.
Near point-blank range, he squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession.
The troodon yelped, Dionne and Keesha screamed, and Broderick took the brunt force of the charging dinosaur.
He hadn’t been plowed like that since being blindsided on a kickoff return in high
school. His head went back, and he saw blue sky before his head bounced on the ground. The gun flew out of his hands, and the breath left his lungs.
Fire blazed through his ribs as claws breached flesh. His hands free, he grabbed hold of the troodon’s neck and dug in his thumbs trying to crush its windpipe.
Dionne, crying for help, raced a few steps over and picked up the pistol. Pointing the gun, she warned, “Get off him! Get off him!”
Despite the pain and panic, Broderick realized the troodon had stopped moving. Its mouth was closed, and the claws weren’t digging into his chest.
Struggling to get on his side, he finally found leverage and pushed the dead dinosaur off with his hands and knees.
“Broderick, are you okay?” Dionne asked as Keesha wailed in the background.
“I don’t know,” he said, jumping up and away from the dead troodon. He snatched the gun from her hand and laid aim again on the prehistoric creature.
“Oh, Broderick, you’re bleeding. Oh my God!” Dionne said and broke into tears.
He stepped over to the troodon and cautiously kicked it in the belly. No sign of any life.
Backing away with the laser painting the troodon’s head, he finally put the gun away when he reached his wife’s side.
“Does it hurt?” Dionne asked.
Keesha ran and wrapped her arms around his waist.
His left hand patted her shoulder, and his right hand gingerly touched the left side of his chest. His cotton shirt was cut and wet with blood. Near as he could tell, the claws didn’t go much beyond skin deep.
The dinosaur had died as soon as it was shot. Lucky for him, he had a large caliber handgun and a laser to aid his aim; even luckier that he maintained his composure enough to hit the target at all.
“I’m okay,” he said. He looked around and suddenly felt exposed. There was no one else in sight. The gunshots were sure to drive everyone away. It would only be a matter of time before the authorities arrived to investigate. He wondered if he should remove the gun from his possession and place it on the walk for all to see. With his family there, he didn’t want to be armed and take the chance that a nervous officer would misjudge the situation and do something horrific.
The Dinosaur Battle Of New Orleans Page 8