Dinosaur Hideout (9 page)

D
aniel walked over and took a look.
Another section had been uncovered. He crouched down near one end and stared at the massive skeletal remains. All at once, he noticed something else half-hidden by the bottom of the rib cage. A nestlike indentation with what looked like fossilized fragments of shells! He stood up abruptly and faced Pederson.

“Is that...?”

Pederson nodded.

“You’ve actually found a nest,” Daniel whispered. “This is a fantastic discovery!”

“Look a little more closely,” whispered Pederson.

Daniel dropped to his knees and crawled closer to the spot where the egg fragments lay embedded in the rock. There seemed to be almost a whole one. Gently he fingered the pieces. Then, moving a piece of cloth slightly, he uncovered the remains of a tiny skeleton. A whole baby Edmontosaurus!

Pederson and Daniel stared at one another, their eyes moistening.

“Do you know what this means?” Daniel finally gasped, in total awe.

Pederson nodded again. Daniel let out a whoop.

“Geez, this will make Saskatchewan famous in the paleontology world! First you found a whole Edmontosaurus – and now the nest! This’ll be bigger than when they discovered the tyrannosaurus rex. Now you can tell everyone!”

“No!” Pederson rasped out, greatly agitated. “No one must know yet.”

Bear barked and eyed Daniel, but stayed put, waiting for a command from his master.

“Take it easy, Mr. Pederson,” Daniel said, going back over to his side to reassure him. “I’m not going to say anything.” He patted his shoulder gently.

“Okay,” Pederson said, still breathing heavily, but looking him intently in the eyes. “Just keep it that way until I say so. You have to promise.”

“Promise,” Daniel said, crossing his heart. “Scout’s honour.”

Pederson struggled to get to his feet, coughing. Bear paced beside him.

“Maybe I should get you to a doctor,” Daniel said, as he grabbed his arm to steady him. “I have my snowmobile here. I could take you.”

“No, I’ll be fine, young man.” He leaned a little against Daniel as they staggered back to the main room. Bear followed right behind protectively.

Daniel thought for another moment. “Wait! My mom’s a nurse. I could take you home. She’d know how to help you,” he offered as Pederson sank heavily onto the bed.

“It’s just a touch of angina. I’ve had it for years,” Pederson rasped out as Daniel covered him up with a couple of woollen blankets. “I just need to rest.”

“Are you sure?” Daniel noticed that the old man’s lips weren’t so blue, but his face was still pale.

Pederson nodded and closed his eyes. Daniel stared down at him for a few minutes not speaking.

“Thanks, Daniel Bringham,” Pederson said after awhile, patting his hand without opening his eyes.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Pederson,” Daniel said, tucking up the covers. “You sure you’re going to be all right?”

“I’m sure. This has happened before. You’d best be going before your parents start looking for you.”

Bear curled up at the bottom of the bed, his solemn dark eyes glued on his sick master.

Daniel stared at Pederson for another few moments, watching to be sure he was breathing easier. He seemed to be. So, reluctantly, Daniel turned and left for home.

Chapter Six

A
fter he got back, Daniel spent most of the afternoon
mulling over his books, studying everything he could about the Edmonto-saurus. He already knew they had lived in the Cretaceous period in Saskatchewan, and were one of the first dinosaurs to be discovered on the prairies. But until now, no one had found a whole one, nor a skull, and certainly not a nest of eggs! And he’d seen it with his own eyes! Unbelievable! He could hardly wait to tell everyone.

~

L
ater that night after Daniel came back
up to his bedroom, he heard his parents’ raised voices. They must be deciding something important. They sounded upset. He crept out of bed and partway down the stairs. The dining room door had been left ajar. He could see Dad sitting at the table going through his bank statements and scribbling notes again. Mom stood against the china cabinet, her hands clenched at her sides.

“Well, it looks like we don’t have much choice anymore, Libby. The bank won’t give us another extension on our loan so we can try to lease more land from old Pederson or someone. In fact, they want us to pay off our line of credit right away.” Dad ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair, greying around the edges.

“But why now all of a sudden?” demanded Mom as she walked over to the table and stared at Dad.

“Some new bank rules from head office. To do with the falling economy and the drought. They’ll let us pay it off in two installments, but we have to make a payment next month and another in the spring.”

“That still doesn’t make sense,” she objected, her face crumpling.

“It made sense the way the manager explained it. The bank is afraid of losing all their money because so many farmers didn’t have good crops with the drought again this year, and most can’t collect crop insurance. I don’t agree with it, but the rules are the rules.”

Mom paced behind Dad. “How can they be so inhuman?” she asked in a trembling voice.

“Guess we shouldn’t have overextended ourselves buying that new tractor back when you were working full-time, before Cheryl.

“Oh, Ed. I can’t believe we have to do anything before Christmas.” Mom stopped, pulled down the bunched sleeves of her sweater, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, it’s either put the place up for sale now. Or lose it next year and end up with nothing,” Dad’s troubled voice echoed across the room.

Daniel couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Sell
it? He jumped to his feet and pounded down the stairs.

“We can’t leave this place! We’ve always lived here,” he argued desperately, clinging to the door frame. “Besides, you’re always saying how important it is to stick at something no matter how tough the going gets.”

Daniel’s quick entry had startled his mother. “Oh, Daniel. We thought you were asleep. But now that you’re up, you might as well hear. We were going to tell you tomorrow anyway.”

He shuffled into the room and sat on the edge of a cushioned chair.

Dad cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Son, there just doesn’t seem to be any other way. We just don’t own enough land to make the farm viable now that we’ve had two dry years in a row. There’s no pasture for the cattle, and the bank won’t give us any more time, or money for leasing land. We have nothing as collateral, nor any realistic way of making an income.”

“What about selling the new tractor?”

“We don’t own it to begin with, so that wouldn’t help. Besides, our old one won’t run anymore and we need something to use.”

Dad stood up and pushed his chair back before continuing. “They said agreeing to the drilling lease wouldn’t help much. We’d be better off bartering for extra pasture land or selling entirely.” He began to pace the room as Mom had. “I’m sorry Danny. I know how you feel. But we may have no choice. Try to understand.”

He came to a stop a few feet away from Daniel. He continued speaking as though mesmerized, all the while running his hands through his hair. “Even if we did have enough land, the crops have been so poor lately that we still might not be able to make a go of it. There just hasn’t been enough rain for the last few years. As it is, we haven’t even paid the taxes. And it goes without saying that if we lose the land, we can’t keep the cattle or horses. We’d have nowhere to pasture them and nowhere to grow feed.”

“What about Mom’s nursing job? Doesn’t that help?” Daniel asked. He could feel his body tingling as his heart thumped erratically.

“It keeps food on the table, but it’s only part-time now and not enough.” Then Dad added quietly, “The next payment is due at the end of next month. It’ll wipe out just about everything we’ve saved. I’ll see about finding a job off the farm, but we may well have to move.”

Daniel stood there in disbelief, clenching his fists at his sides. His shoulders felt stiff and heavy, and his eyes stung as he looked from Dad to Mom.

“Move where?” he demanded. His stomach tightened and rolled in protest. “Not Swift Current or Moose Jaw!”

“We might have to go as far as Medicine Hat or Regina. Wherever we can make a living. It’ll be a change, but we’ll all get used to it.” The worry lines deepened in Dad’s face.

Daniel felt twinges of concern for Dad, but he couldn’t help himself. “We can’t go,” he insisted. “Our family’s been here for years. It’s all I know.” His voice shook. “What will happen to Dactyl and Gypsy? And Pepper, we’ve had him for years! And what about my friends? I’ll never see them again.”

“I know it’s a shock right now, Danny boy, but if we have to leave, we’ll find a good home for Gypsy and Pepper. Maybe you can keep Dactyl. And you’ll certainly be able to visit your friends. And you’ll make new ones.”

“No, I don’t ever want to leave this place. I won’t go anywhere without Gypsy! There must be a way we can stay.” Daniel grasped Dad’s arm and pleaded. He felt his mouth tremble.

“We can’t think of any, Son, and believe me, we’ve tried,” Dad said softly, reaching to give him a hug.

Daniel’s cheeks felt damp. “There must be something we can do,” he croaked out, releasing himself from Dad’s hold. Then he turned and headed out of the room.

His heart raced and his throat ached as he trudged up the stairs, entered his bedroom and closed the door quietly. This couldn’t be happening! He took a few breaths, trying to calm himself. As he leaned against the door, he noticed the streak of moonlight that cut through the window and across the room, illuminating the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. He caught a sideways glimpse of himself, his face distraught and his dark hair standing on end where he’d swiped his hand through it several times.

Reflected above the door frame where he stood was an old framed print of craggy hills with a broken stream trickling at their base. It seemed askew. How fitting, he thought. His whole life was about to be screwed up. And he was definitely a mess, too.

Compelled by the distinct patterns of shadow and light in his room, he looked around over his unmade bed with its rumpled homemade quilt, and the clothes strewn across the floor. On his desk, his homework and dinosaur books lay scattered, one of the books held open with a banana peel. There was room for a computer, too, with an Internet hookup for his research, but that would never happen now.

Nearby were his shelves, lined with more dinosaur books and replicas. The mobile of planets and stars hung overhead, and next to it, barely visible in the dimness, were photos of nature hung alongside posters of atmospheric layers, the solar system, and a geological time chart.

Then his eyes lit on the scene through his window: the farmyard and the pasture beyond. The moonlight filtered softly over the yard. The tire swing dangled from the tree by the garage where he’d played for years. And the barbecue pit Dad had dug a few years back, filled with snow now, had been the site for the annual neighbourhood picnic.

He’d spent hours walking over the pasture with his grandfather as he pointed out gopher holes, plants, nests, and footprints from foxes and deer. He’d helped his grandmother pick potato bugs off the huge garden near the dugout. He’d gone exploring on Gypsy’s back more times than he could count. And what about his precious hideout? How many hours had he spent alone out there with Dactyl?

If he moved away, he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things ever again. How would he spend his weekends or after-school times? His family would probably end up in some small cramped apartment like his great-aunt Helen’s place in Regina, where he wouldn’t know anyone. He shouldn’t have complained about all the chores; now he’d have nothing to do to fill the hours.

Cheryl’s fretful cries brought him back to the present with a jolt. Enough whining! He’d have to find a way to keep his parents from losing their land, that very land he was staring at. It meant everything to him.

When his breathing slowed again, he opened the door a crack and strained to hear his parents in the dining room below. Their voices were too quiet to distinguish and he didn’t have the heart to hear any more. The faint smell of the roast chicken supper they’d had earlier wafted up and lingered in the hallway, reminding him that his normal, comfortable, predictable world was about to be turned upside down.