Dinosaur Hideout (3 page)

Just as he heaved the last pailful of water into the trough, he thought he heard the rattle of the school bus coming around the long curve before it stopped at his place. He dropped the metal bucket with a clang, and yanked the barn door open. The wind slammed it shut again as he sprinted across the yard.

Luckily, the sound was only a lumberyard delivery truck, probably Herb Milner passing by on his way to work in town. Daniel ran for the house and headed for a quick shower. He dressed quickly and ran downstairs, grabbing his parka and scooping up his backpack.

He’d barely stepped outside when he heard the rumbling of the school bus approaching his lane, then glimpsed bits of yellow through the profusion of trees lining the south side of the yard. As he ran, waving his arms to catch the attention of the bus driver, he realized he’d forgotten his lunch. He groaned and ran on. This was definitely not going to be one of his better days!

He took a deep breath and shifted his backpack as the bus wheezed and squeaked to a halt in front of him. He stepped on board, wondering what the rest of the week would bring.

As usual all the high school students and older kids were already on the bus. He was relieved to see Jed was also there, and slid into the seat beside his buddy. He and Jed Lindstrom had been friends since they were babies. Their birthdays were only a month apart, so they often celebrated together. The Bringhams and Lindstroms had farmed next to each other for several decades and were more like family than neighbours. Jed’s three younger sisters actually treated Daniel like an older brother, teasing him whenever they could.

“Hey, Jedlock,” Daniel poked his best friend, who’d made himself comfortable by taking off his parka and spreading his belongings on the seat, leaving little room for him.

“Mornin’,” Jed answered, lifting his headphones off long enough to give Daniel the high-five, then pulling them back over his curly head. His long legs disappeared under the seat in front of them, evidence that he had sprouted up a few inches more than Daniel had in the last year. His shirt tails were half tucked into his jeans, a sloppy trait that Daniel didn’t share.

Daniel nodded and smiled, then turned to look out the window. He barely heard the noisy chatter of his companions as the bus lumbered and jostled its way to town. He was thinking instead of the neat fossil he’d found earlier, and what that might mean. He’d have to figure out who it was safe to tell his secret to, besides Jed, of course, and who would help him find further evidence. Too bad he couldn’t dig more until spring. The ground was frozen hard right now.

Suddenly, a nudge in his side from Brett Mortin, a grade eight kid sitting across the aisle, brought him back to the present.

“There’s that crazy old coot, Pederson. Look.” Brett pointed to the old man standing at the edge of a field ahead.

“So what?” said Daniel, stiffening and peering past the reflection of his face out the window.

In the distance, he could see a bulky figure standing beside a bend in the road, with a rifle propped upright in his crossed arms and his monstrous hound crouched beside him. Daniel felt a little quiver run up his spine as he remembered their encounter less than a half-hour earlier.

“He’s probably looking for you Danny. He probably wants to see if you’re nice and tender,” Brett tormented him.

Daniel ignored Brett. When would the guy give up trying to persecute him?

Brett drew closer and breathed into his face. “Some night he’ll come and get you out of your bed.” Brett screwed up his face in a menacing gesture and stared at Daniel. “Then he’ll throw you into a well until he’s ready to eat you.”

Daniel stared anxiously at Brett. He was more worried about being filled with buckshot if he set foot on the old guy’s property, but what if the other stories were true? Maybe he’d just been lucky so far. He glanced back out the window, just as the bus rounded the curve where Pederson stood.

The old man’s watery eyes and Daniel’s met as the bus creaked past him. Daniel shivered and sank down into his seat. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was terrified of the old coot, especially after his warning this morning. Now Pederson knew who he was.

“Geez, Brett. You’ve been watching too many horror shows,” Jed shook his head as he came to Daniel’s defence.

Daniel shook off the panic and grinned tensely back at Brett as laughter erupted from the kids around them.

“Yeah, you’re just being a jerk.” Daniel shrugged Brett off.

“No, I’m not. It’s true. He’s probably looking for someone to bump off right now,” insisted Brett, poking him in the side again. Then he lowered his voice, and said, “He murdered his wife, you know.”

“Yeah, right,” Daniel muttered. His heart did little flips as he remembered his fear when Pederson had pointed the gun in the doorway of his hideout earlier.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear the story?” said Wade, another grade eight boy.

At his side, Jed whispered, “Don’t listen to him, Danny. He doesn’t know anything.” Aloud, he said, “Quit being such a dweeb, Brett. No one believes such a hokey story.”

“What do you mean?” Wade persisted. “Everyone knows his wife died mysteriously, right?”

“Well, yeah. I guess I heard that,” Daniel answered hesitantly. He could feel the fear rising again.

“Hey, it’s true.” Wade acted indignant.

“How do you know?”

“One day she was there and the next she was gone,” declared Wade. “And nobody saw her ever again. He never took her to any hospital. He never took her to any doctor. He didn’t have any funeral.”

Brett nodded gravely beside him. “Nope, nothing. Nobody saw a thing.”

“That’s right, my uncle said so,” chimed in Craig Nelwin from the seat behind them. His uncle owned land to the west of Pederson, and Craig and his brother spent a lot of time there. “He buried her right on his property.”

“You’re just saying that,” said Daniel, wavering just a little. He’d ask Mom about it. Because she worked at the hospital and she’d know.

“There’s no way,” declared Jed, shaking his head. “He’d never get away with it.”

“He’s right,” Wade butted in again. “I saw the wooden cross poking out of the ground when I was hunting for rabbits last summer.”

“I saw it too,” added Brett. “And he’s always digging. He’s probably buried other people on his place, too.”

Wade leaned in closer, and whispered mischievously, “I even saw his jars of poison.”

“No way,” said Daniel and Jed in unison.

“Sure, they were all lined up on a shelf in his shack. I saw them through the window,” said Wade.

“You actually saw them?” Daniel asked in amazement. He could feel his hands getting clammy.

“Sure,” replied Wade nonchalantly.

Jed retorted, “Yeah, like you really snuck up to his place and peeked in.”

“Did, too,” Wade said defensively.

“He’s telling the truth, “ Craig said. “One time my brother even saw him hacking up bones on the kitchen table.”

Daniel and Jed stared wide-eyed at one another and shivered. They sat quietly back in their seats.

Daniel had heard other stories about Pederson, too, since the old man had moved into the area a few years ago. He was sure going to stay out of his way and off his property. He’d managed to so far, finding no need to go there. There was plenty to do on their own property, and he hadn’t had much time to explore in other directions. He shuddered. He’d never go
near
the place now. But Pederson knew where his hideout was!

“What’s the matter?” Jed asked in a low voice beside him.

“I’ll tell you later,” Daniel whispered back.

But he didn’t have the chance to talk to Jed all day. Not only had he forgotten his lunch, he’d also forgotten to do his math. He had to stay in at both recesses to catch up on the work. And during lunchtime, Jed and his sisters went to visit their grandmother in town, and Daniel sat alone in the lunchroom, paging through a dinosaur book he’d borrowed from the library. Whenever he glanced out the window, he could see it was snowing again.

By the time they were back on the school bus headed for home, all the other nosy kids sat around them and nothing could be told in private. Besides, Daniel was too hungry and miserable, and too worried about facing Dad with the undone chores from the morning. He still had all the stalls to clean, and that meant forking out the old straw and manure, and laying fresh straw bedding down on the floors in each of them.

“I’ll call you later,” he said as he shrugged into his parka and gathered his backpack and mitts.

“Sure, Danny,” Jed nodded, as Daniel got up.

“Probably after supper,” he called back over his shoulder, remembering all the chores he still had to catch up on.

From the side of the road, he saw Jed give him the thumbs-up signal as the bus continued on.

When he arrived home, Daniel stood listening outside the barn door for a moment, but couldn’t hear anything except the rustling of the cattle. He breathed a sigh of relief and stepped inside. He hoped he had time to do some cleaning before Dad spotted him.

He hurried about, forking out the stalls, and throwing the old straw bedding onto the stone boat in the middle of the barn. He heard the wind howling outside the barn walls while he worked, and as usual the kittens scampered about play-fighting. He was feeding Gypsy when Dad strode in, dressed in his old barn parka over his denim coveralls and thick winter boots. He nodded curtly to Daniel as he grabbed a galvanized pail and the milking stool, then gave a customary slap to a cow to move her over to the side of the stall, so he could sit down next to her to start milking.

Whoa, he’s really angry, thought Daniel, deciding it might be better to work in the stalls away from him as soon as he was finished in this adjacent one. He brushed Gypsy’s side with a grooming brush for a few minutes, then grabbed a pitchfork and quickly cleaned the manure out of a stall down at the end of the barn.

“So where were you this morning, Danny? Suppose you had your head stuck in one of those scientific books again?” Dad asked sarcastically.

“No, I was out for a walk with Dactyl,” he answered, gritting his teeth. He’d never told his parents about his hideout and he didn’t want to mention it now. He moved a couple of kittens out of his way and grabbed a square bale of hay. He broke it open and spread the straw on the floor of the stall, then stole a look at his father.

“Don’t tell me it was those darn rocks again?” Dad didn’t even look up, just kept his head pressed into the side of the cow he was milking. “You know Danny, you’re responsible for doing your share of the chores before you go to school?”

“I know, I just forgot the time,” Daniel replied quietly, setting the fork against the railing and bending down to pet Marble, who circled his legs.

Dad brushed off the excuse, turned, and stared at him. His eyes had become large and a deeper brown, so intense that Daniel took a step back. A strand of dark hair fell across Dad’s forehead as it always did when he was agitated about something.

“You seem to be sidetracked these days. You need to focus your attention back on the work here on the farm. Someday this will be yours.” Then under his breath he added, “If the bank doesn’t get it first.” He waved his arm across the span of the barn. “Books and rocks, they have their place, but you don’t need ’em. This is all you need, right here!”

“Dad, I know I didn’t finish my chores, and I apologize, but this morning I found something really exciting. It proves –”

Suddenly, Dad stood up and waved an arm to cut him off.

“Look, Danny, I know you aren’t all that keen on the farm right now, and maybe I wasn’t either at your age. But what we do and how we live is important, especially now.” Dad grabbed the pail of milk, ready to move on to the next cow.

Daniel ducked away, sighing. Why couldn’t Dad even try to understand the importance of what
he
was doing? He looked back up at him; he was still in lecturing mode and ignoring Daniel’s protests.

“You may find dinosaur stuff appealing for now, but you’ll grow out of it. Besides, they’re long gone, Danny. What’s essential is what’s here and now. Keep that in mind when you decide to go gallivanting again instead of doing your chores. Okay?” He looked at Daniel sternly.

“Okay, okay. I hear you,” he said, then mumbled to himself, “loud and clear.” He grabbed the pitchfork again and stalked off further down the length of the barn and across to the other side, as far away as he could get.

Why couldn’t Dad understand how he felt? He’d been searching for dinosaurs for years and his own father hadn’t even noticed! But then his Dad hardly ever noticed anything he was involved in, nor did he set foot in Daniel’s bedroom. If he did, he’d see all the books, mobiles, and replicas he’d collected. Mom seemed sympathetic, but Dad had the final word on everything. Sometimes it seemed like Velcro joined them at the hip.

Daniel continued with his chores in silence. At last he filled the final pail of water, then struggled over to the trough with it. He was tired, and the water slopped over the edges as he walked. His hands ached with the cold. He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, except an apple Jed had brought back for him from his grandmother’s. It had been a terrible day. First Pederson, and now Dad yelling at him.