Angus stirred the soup in his bowl while he considered all he’d learned. He was in a world with no electricity. A fire in the middle of a hut was technically central heating, but the family cooked on it also, so it was more like camping. The squirrels were gigantic, the community shared a sloth farm, and his father’s alter ego was hunting mammoth. He thought of his own father at home who hunted the occasional rat in the garden shed with a snap trap and peanut butter.
Bonnie’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Can I have that thing on your head?” She grabbed at his goggles.
“No!”
“What about that?” she asked reaching out little fingers to touch his toolbelt.
“Hands off!” he slapped her hand away.
“Gus! Don’t strike your sister!”
“You’re mean,” frowned Bonnie.
“Gus, eat your soup and leave your sister alone. Once you’ve warmed up you have chores to do.”
Angus slurped his soup and glared at Bonnie. She stuck her tongue out at him. He thought Gus must have all the same problems he did, plus one more. Bonnie was licking her bowl clean.
Angus wrapped his hands around the cup and inhaled the aroma of the soup. The steam tickled his nostrils and condensed on his upper lip. He sipped the brown liquid. It was salty and rich and warm and he could feel it making its way down his esophagus into his stomach, heating him as it went. “Ummmm delicious,” he breathed.
“Thank you,” answered Mother.
“BUUURRP!” said Bonnie.
Angus stared at her and then looked at Gus’s mother. She didn’t seem to have noticed, so Angus said loudly, “Bonnie, that’s really rude. Pretty gross behavior. You should apologize.”
Bonnie gaped at him and Gus’s mother turned from her work at the fire.
“What is that you’re saying, Gus? What should Bonnie apologize for?”
Angus shrugged. “She burped at the table. That’s bad manners. She needs to excuse herself.”
“What?” Bonnie looked to her mother.
“She burped because she liked my soup. That was the nicest compliment she could give me.” Gus’s mother smiled at Bonnie. “Thank you, sweetie.” She fixed Angus with a hard stare. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, Gus, but you don’t talk to Bonnie like that. Now finish your soup and go do your chores.”
Burping was allowed here? That was the most awesome thing he’d heard all day! Angus expelled a loud “BULLLP!” His mother smiled. “Okay, I forgive you, Gus. But the beasts won’t clean themselves. Off you go. And don’t forget to wear your boots!”
“Boots?” asked Angus.
“Yes, where did you leave them?” asked Gus’s mother. Her eyes fell on the purple sneakers resting under the wet clothes. “Where did those come from?” She touched the wet blue jeans and shook her head. “I will never understand where you find half the things you bring home, Gus.”
“Aren’t they pretty, Mommy?” trilled Bonnie as she fondled the sneakers’ rhinestones.
Mother bent down and touched them. “Yes, they are. Very strange. Where did you leave your boots, Gus?”
Angus looked at her blankly. He certainly couldn’t tell her that Gus’s boots were probably still on Gus’s feet wherever in the universe Gus had gone when Angus arrived. He couldn’t possibly explain the concept of interdimensional travel, mostly because he didn’t totally understand it himself. So he did what came naturally, what he would have done if his own mother had asked him an unanswerable question.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Gus’s mother stared at him and sighed. “Well, I guess you’ll have to wear your old boots. And I don’t want to hear that they’re too tight. I don’t have time to make you a new pair right now. Maybe you can ask around the village and see if you can borrow a pair from someone.” She tossed some tall fur moccasins at him.
Angus shoved his wool-encased feet into the boots. They were a bit snug but a welcome change from the cold, wet, purple sneakers. He wrapped the leather straps around them and tied them tightly to his leg. He looked at Gus’s mother. She was rummaging around the clothesline.
“I suppose you forgot where you left your coat, too?”
Angus gave her a sheepish grin.
She shook her head. “You’ll have to wear your good one. I don’t like you mucking out the pens with it, but what else are we going to do?” Angus wrapped himself in the fur coat.
“And wear this hat,” she ordered, handing him a knit cap. “Now, you’d better get out there or they’ll say the Clark family doesn’t do their bit to help.” She nudged him out the door.
Chapter Four: Chores
Angus had no idea what he was in for but he knew it was supposed to happen in the sloth corral. He adjusted his goggles over the top of the cap and trudged in that direction. Women and children his age and older walked along the fence line carrying spears. They looked out toward the forest. Most had grave expressions and a few of the children seemed fearful.
Angus continued on his way to the sloths. The stench of the beasts grew stronger. He wondered if he’d ever get used to it, the way you grow accustomed to the smell of your own house but your friends’ houses all smell different. He wasn’t sure getting used to the smell would be such a good thing.
“There you are!” shouted a fur-wrapped boy standing inside the sloths’ enclosure. Angus would know that grin anywhere.
“Hi Billy!” he yelled back.
In Angus’s world Billy Roberts was the best friend a guy could have. He was goofy and fun and always eager to join in on whatever game or invention occurred to Angus. Angus had last encountered Billy in the pirate world. That alter ego was a true mayhem-causing pirate. But it had been Billy who’d kept the World Jumper safe.
“I thought you were trying to dodge the doody duty!” laughed the rowdy boy.
“You mean we have to scoop poop?” Angus looked uneasily at the gigantic creatures gathered around Billy. They didn’t appear to be aggressive. Angus took a deep breath, grasped the gate with resolve, pushed it open, and entered the corral.
“Here,” said Billy handing Angus what looked like a shovel. Leather strips bound a bone scoop to a long staff. Angus took the shovel, pulled the goggles down over his eyes, and began moving the monstrous dung into a pile. If he ever got home, he would never again complain about cleaning the cat box.
“Where do we put it?” he asked.
“In the barrow, of course. Duh!” teased Billy. Angus saw a primitive wooden cart with handles and a misshapen wooden wheel. He scooped the manure into the cart.
When it was full, Billy trundled the wheelbarrow across the pen to a gate on the opposite side. “Are you coming?” he called.
Angus dodged a sloth lumbering toward him and jogged across the pen. He pushed the gate open for Billy who dumped the dray’s contents on to a massive steaming pile.
“Ugh!” gagged Angus.
“You do the next load!” announced Billy with a grin.
The two boys took turns shoveling and hauling sloth dung from the corral to the compost heap. After nearly an hour of toil the sun was low in the sky. Angus no longer noticed the revolting nature of the job. His back and shoulders screamed as he lugged the heavy cart for the last time that evening. He parked the wheelbarrow and closed the gate behind him. Billy was refreshing the leaf mounds in the pen from another wheelbarrow while the sloths watched eagerly.
“That’s a lot of food to unload,” remarked Angus as he hurried over to help.
“I’ll be happy when we can take them out grazing again,” said Billy. “I hate hauling the food. And there was less dung to shovel when we could let them graze.”
“Less poo would be nice,” agreed Angus.
“Yeah. Maybe when our dads are back from hunting mammoth they’ll kill the monster and we can get the beasts out of this corral. Too bad it showed up right after they left.”
Angus mentally listed what he knew so far. All the men were on a hunting trip. The women an
d children were protecting the village. Everyone was afraid of some dangerous creature that ate gigantic ground sloths.
Angus didn’t even want to contemplate how large a predator that would be. “Have you seen it?” asked Angus.
Billy stared at him. “What are you asking me that for? I was with you the first time it attacked, don’t you remember? We started locking the gates and posting sentries the next day.”
“Yeah. Right,” said Angus. He couldn’t ask what the so-called monster looked like if he’d supposedly already seen it. He threw the last load of leaves to the sloths and wiped his hands on his leather pants.
“Speaking of sentries, would you take my shift tonight? I’m too tired. I’ll take your shift in the corral in the morning. Deal?” said Billy.
“Sure,” Angus said. He didn’t know what he’d have to do on sentry duty, but he was eager to get away from the stinky animals for a day.
“You tell Granny, okay?” said Billy.
“Granny?” asked Angus. “You mean my grandmother?”
“Of course. She is the captain of the sentry after all.”
His grandmother the “captain of the sentry”? Angus left Billy and went searching for her. He didn’t have far to go. She was at the village entrance. A group of tough-looking boys clutching spears loitered around her. She appeared to be leading a meeting.
As he approached, he heard her say, “It’s been nearly a week since the monster took one of our beasts. Expect an attack tonight. I want three of you in the corral. Two on this gate. Five of you sweep the perimeter. It will be a dark night with the waning moon, but when you see the crescent at its highest point, second shift begins. I hear about anyone sleeping when you’re supposed to be patrolling, you get dung duty for a week. Understood?”
The boys grumbled in assent.
“Good,” she barked. “First shift let’s have Jack, Paul, and Melvin at the corral.” Angus heard a groan. “What Melvin, you want first and second shift?” Granny threatened the tall, gangly boy who had complained.
“No ma’am,” his voice cracked.
“That’s what I thought,” she replied. “First shift I want Ralph and Billy on the entrance.” Her eyes scanned the boys’ faces. “Where is Billy? Gus, what are you doing here? You’re not on sentry tonight.”
“I’m filling in for Billy,” said Angus.
“Why, that lazy—” began Granny. She sighed. “Okay, then. You’re on the entrance with Ralph. First shifters choose your second shift replacements and get to it.”
Angus watched the other boys tap each other on the shoulder. He noticed one of them was watching him keenly. The boy caught his eye and said, “Swap you.”
Angus nodded in agreement and watched the sentries disperse. Only Angus, Granny, and a short, solidly built boy remained by the gate.
“Gus, Ralph.” Granny addressed them gravely. “The monster is sure to strike tonight. It’s been five days since its last attack. I’m expecting it to head directly for the corral, which is why I’ve posted three sentries there. We don’t know much about this creature though so stay alert.” She blinked at Angus. “Gus, where is your weapon?”
“I … I,” Angus stammered.
“You’ll have to get it after you and Ralph have barred the entrance. Now hurry. Night is almost here,” huffed Granny. “I need to speak with the boys in the corral.” She bustled off.
The gates of the entrance were constructed of the large curved posts that encircled the village. They were much larger versions of the gates in the sloth corral. Ralph began untethering the first gate. He looked over his shoulder at Angus. “Are you just going to stand there and watch?”
Angus hurried to the other gate and struggled to unknot the braided leather binding. He loosened and removed the tether and the gate shuddered and swung shut. The other gate slammed into it and Ralph began tying the two gates together with the leather rope. Angus followed Ralph’s example and together they secured the entrance.
“I hope no one needs to enter or leave anytime soon,” said Angus.
Ralph stared at him. “No one would dare be outside the gates after sundown.” He turned toward the gate and peered outward into the dark. “Get your weapon,” he ordered.
Angus tried to imagine what Ralph was watching for. He had a feeling he’d know it when he saw it. And he knew for certain that he didn’t want to see it. An icy shiver crept down his spine and he hurried off to the hut to look for a spear.
Angus could tell from the worried look on her face that Gus’s mother was not pleased to hear he had taken on Billy’s shift. She said nothing but handed him a pair of fur mittens. “It’s bound to get colder tonight,” she said. “Take my spear. It’s longer and sturdier than yours.”
Angus grabbed the larger of the two spears and pecked Gus’s mother on the cheek. She forced a wavering smile and Angus stepped into the darkness.
If he hadn’t been anxious about the “monster” before, the reaction of Gus’s mother would have given him reason to worry. Paleontology was not his area of expertise; he would much rather visit aeronautical and science museums than natural history museums. And honestly, the only prehistoric animals he’d been even remotely interested in were the dinosaurs. And that was when he was Bonnie’s age.
He vaguely recalled that megafauna like ground sloths and mammoths lived in the Pleistocene Era. What predators were alive then? And would those same predators exist in this world?
He figured Ivy would know the answers to those questions. But she wasn’t here. Angus feared he’d never see his friend again. Even though he had a mother, sister, grandmother, and a father in this world, he suddenly felt very, very alone. Ivy was the only person who truly understood Angus. She had also lost her connection to home. She was also traveling through strange worlds. She always knew what he was talking about without him having to explain everything. The loss of his best friend weighed heavily on him.
As he thought about Ivy he ceased to think about his surroundings. For a moment he forgot where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He was brought to his senses by the sight of a shadowy figure approaching him quickly. At first he thought it was Ralph but as the figure drew closer, Angus realized it was walking on four legs, not two. The figure was large, indistinct in the gloom, and the size of a small pony.
Angus clenched the spear with white fists. He jabbed it ineffectually in the space in front of his body. “Get!” he said shakily. He tried to yell but his voice had frozen in fear.
The creature was upon him, huge and looming. It reared back on its hind legs and landed its front paws heavily on his chest. Angus was knocked to the ground and the hot, meaty breath of the largest dog he’d ever seen was in his face. He saw drips of saliva on enormous pointed teeth and a tiny gasp escaped from his closed up throat.
Chapter Five: Gus Stops Traffic
“Hey, kid. It’s a little early for Halloween, isn’t it?”
Gus stared at the group of teens laughing at him. Where did they come from? Were they back from the mammoth hunt already?
They didn’t look like any of the village teens he knew. They wore strange clothing. Colorful undershirts covered with symbols he’d never seen before. Woven blue pants, some with holes in the knees. Colorful shoes. No hats or furs. He looked at his own attire. Thick fur boots, heavy sloth fur coat, squirrel hood. He was feeling a bit warm. He propped his spear against the bench he was sitting on and pulled off his mittens.
One of the older boys shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Weirdo,” he said.
Gus watched the teens walk past and closed his eyes. His head hurt. Granny was forever scolding him, warning him not to go to the plateau, telling him one day he would be all alone in a snowstorm and freeze to death. Maybe today was that day.
Last winter he had gotten so sick. He’d had such a high fever, but then he had felt like he would never be warm again. Mother and Granny had taken turns sitting up with him, wrapping him in cold compresses, feeding him mammoth broth
drop by drop, or at least that was what they’d told him when he was conscious again.
He didn’t remember the being sick. But he did remember the dreams. They had been strange hallucinations of flying sloths and mammoths with his father’s head. They had been funny and sometimes frightening, and they had been so real. Only when he was feeling better and had woken from the thick slumber of the deathly illness did he realize the bizarre occurrences had been fever dreams.
Was he hallucinating again? Were these fever dreams?
He opened his eyes and looked around. There was a giant slab of flat, hard rock under his feet. It stretched from side to side as far as he could see. Straight ahead was a large body of water. He could see several vessels floating on it in the distance, and many more tied to a wooden platform stretching over the water.
He was resting on a bench. It was built far better than anything he’d ever seen in the village. The seat was made of thin strips of identically sized wood. The arm rests were crafted of a hard shiny material he’d never before seen. It made a loud twang when he tapped it with the bone tip of his spear.
If he was unconscious and dying in the snow, at least he was having a fantastic dream.
He took his spear and headed off down the flat stone path. Villagers he didn’t recognize bustled past. He was surrounded by strangers. He had never seen so many people in one place, not even on feast days. The colors of their clothing screamed at him. None of them wore the furs and brown woven sweaters he was used to seeing. Large stone and wood buildings towered above him. Sometimes they blocked the sky.
He walked along the path, head tilted back, searching for the sun. A mastodon scream blared directly in front of him. He covered his ears in shock and strong hands pulled him back. Something very fast, shiny, and colorful sped past him. He gasped for breath.
“That was close! Didn’t you see the red light?”
He looked into the concerned face of a woman about his mother’s age. She was pointing into the sky at a strange rectangular object swinging above a wider hard black path. The object was long and green with three large circles inside. One of them glowed a bright red. As he watched, another of the circles began to glow a bright green. The woman and several other adults ventured across the black path. He joined them.
The Crystal Lair (Inventor-in-Training) Page 3