Dinosaur Lake (21 page)

“The way he was, the way our lives were, drove my mother into depression and she took a lot of prescription pills. She wasn’t there for me most of the time, either. She’d given up her life, you see, for him and there was never time for her in his. She lived in this fantasy world. And there wasn’t any room in it for anyone else. I can look back now and understand how lonely she must have been, how lonely I was. It underscored everything I did.”

Classic story. Henry had heard it many times when he’d been a cop. Uncaring, absent father and a pill, or other drug, addicted mother. “You were an only child, weren’t you?”

“I was an only spoiled-brat, stubborn-minded child. I wanted to get through to them in some way, hurt them. Running away was the ultimate punishment. I was immature. Cruel. Foolish. I never understood they had problems of their own and couldn’t see mine. As soon as I could, I got out. Changed my name so they couldn’t track me. Justin’s my real name, but not Maltin. It’s Stockdale. I had it changed legally when I turned eighteen. After months of drifting and acting like a bum, I got tired of my aimless life. I guess I’d already started growing up.

“I got a job, my GED, and later secured grants and put myself through college. I made something out of myself, what I wanted to be, and did it on my own. At first, to get back at them, but later, for myself.

“I’ve never gone home since. Afraid they’d shut the door in my face if I did. Lately, I’ve been thinking about them and about maybe calling them to start with.”

“What’s changed now?”

“I don’t know.” Justin was tapping the swing arm with his fingers. “I’ve grown up. Being here, meeting you and Ann, Laura and Phoebe and seeing what a good family could be like.

“And there is what’s happened the last couple weeks…the creature…the killings…it’s made me see how fragile and short life can be. Death, whether we want to face it or not, is around every corner. We need people to love and be loved by, we need friends, family. Not someday, but now, for we might not have tomorrow.” He released a held-in breath.

“It’s strange,” Justin said, “but I realized, after all these years, I’d become my father. All work and nothing else. I never reached out to anyone. Until now. Now I have Laura and Phoebe. I’m learning the responsibility of love and I suspect, perhaps, it wasn’t entirely my father’s fault. I wasn’t exactly a lovable kid. Heck, as a teenager I was horrid. I wish I could get back those years. Wish I had my family. Wish I had the guts to call them.”

“Well,” Henry proposed, “if you can’t manage that first phone call why don’t you send your father and mother a letter? That’s a start. If you know where they are.”

“Oh, I know where they are. They live in the same town, same house, but my father’s not in politics anymore. He’s got a regular nine to five job. I also learned they’ve been looking for me since I left, and I have a younger sister, Mary, who’s eight years old now.” He rubbed his eyes. “Both revelations shocked me.” He shook his head slowly. “The time I’ve wasted. But I’m scared to death to see them. What will they think of me after all these years? Do they hate me? Will they even want me to be part of the family again?”

Henry didn’t know what to say to him, so he said something he’d wanted to say since they’d escaped the creature the night before. “They’ll be proud of you, Justin, as I was last night. As terrified as you were, you were brave. Didn’t lose your head. They’ve got quite a son. A PHD and a hero, too. What more could parents want?”

Justin mumbled something and swung his head away. Then said, “I was too scared to do anything else but what I did. Did it without thinking. I couldn’t leave you to face that monster alone.”

“You’re just being humble. You were courageous, is what you were. I want to thank you for sticking with me.”

“You’re welcome.” Justin stopped talking as a plane flew overhead and shattered the silence of the evening.

There was a sudden noise behind them somewhere in the woods and Justin jerked around to look. “Did you hear that?”

“No. What did it sound like?”

“I don’t know. Something moving among the trees.”

They were silent for a while, anxiously listening. No further suspicious sounds came. Only the usual night’s chatterings.

“I guess it’s okay,” Henry concluded. “The monster isn’t coming for us. Not yet anyway.”

“You talked to your superintendent yet? Told him we’re not going to take the creature alive?”

“Not yet,” he hesitated, his irritation showing, “Harris and all of them are insane if they believe we can bag it, tag it and take it home like some cuddly overgrown koala bear.”

“What about his powerful politician friends?”

“Too bad. I don’t take orders from the Governor or his friends. I have to do what’s best for my park and my people.”

“Ah, but you don’t know what a plum for Harris’s career it’d be if he could bring the beast in alive. It’d make him famous. Wealthy. Two things he craves above all else. And I’m sure his politician friends think he’d then donate a fair share of that wealth to their reelection funds.”

“It isn’t going to happen,” Henry said. “Too many people have already died. We can’t fool around any longer. It’s either us or that monster.”

“Men like Harris don’t care how many lives are lost. Human beings are nothing compared to a live prehistoric specimen.”

“Not to me. Humans trump monsters every time. Besides, that creature is too damn intelligent. It won’t be easy to kill, much less capture. It has to die. End of debate.”

“I never thought I’d say I’d agree to that before. But I can’t stop thinking of those victims last night. That woman reporter. One moment she’s flirting with me and the next she’s dead. I’ve never seen anyone die like that.” His body shuddered, his eyes appraising the darkness, a grim curve on his lips. “So…just how are you planning on killing the monster?”

“In my life, I’ve done my share of hunting. Spent weekends with my friend, Redcrow, out in the back woods. He’s taught me so much. He’s tracked large animals and brought down mountain lions and grizzly bears or so he says. And there’re other hunters on our team. This beast, after all, is nothing more than an animal. Clever as it is. It can be put down with the right weapons.”

“If it lives beneath the lake how are we going to find it?”

“That’s where Jim Francis and Mark Lassen come in. We’ll have access to their aquatic biologist friends, and their submersible craft tomorrow.”

“Oh, Lord,” Justin blurted out. “Those things are nothing but claw-sized tin cans. Has this plan been thought out?”

“Yes, that could be a draw back. I never thought of it that way. A tin can,” Henry repeated. “But it beats going down in wet suits. We’d have no protection at all in them except, perhaps, spear guns. Though, Lassen and Francis claim their Deep Rover, that’s what they call it, is the swiftest craft around and it can out maneuver or out run anything in the water. Anything.”

“Or so they say.”

“It’s going to be a dangerous hunt, Justin, no matter which way we approach it. But we have to find the beast before we can destroy it, don’t we?”

“If it doesn’t find us first.”

A little bit later, Henry said, “Justin, there’s no sense in you going back to your cabin alone tonight. Not with that monster on the loose. You can bunk here. Got a spare room. And up in the hallway closet, top shelf, I have books on military weaponry; we can take a look at them.”

“Sounds good to me. To tell you the truth, I really didn’t look forward to traipsing back to that cabin through the woods alone anyway. With Laura and Phoebe in town, it’d be too empty. Not to mention, our nemesis could be anywhere. Wouldn’t want to bump into it in the dark.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

The two of them went in to look at the weapon books.

As outside the forest suddenly hushed for the night.

***

Ann inspected the cluttered newspaper room. Jeff had fled hours ago and Zeke was in the storage area putting away supplies. She could hear him singing, off-key, as usual. With no husband to hurry home to she’d stayed late to finish her articles and to keep Zeke company.

She didn’t need to be anywhere until eight. That was when Laura had her GED classes at the high school and she’d babysit Phoebe. So, in that sense, being in town was convenient. She didn’t mind babysitting. She was proud her daughter was following through on her promise to get her high school diploma.

Ann wrapped up what she was working on, her mind far away with Henry and with the park’s newest inhabitant. She’d sell her soul to have that story with pictures. But overriding that desire was the prayer her husband and Justin would emerge from the situation unscathed. Safe.

Outside the dusty windows the sun hung low in the sky, embedded in fleecy clouds and the breathtaking colors of an Oregon sunset. The town around her was lighting up like twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

Staying with Zeke was hard. Oh, not because Zeke wasn’t a sweetheart, he was. He loved having her and the girls there and spoiled them to death. He’d been lonely a long time and loved the company. Going to a lot of trouble, he’d fixed up two of the upstairs rooms. And he insisted on cooking for them, trying different kinds of exotic dishes he thought they’d enjoy. And he wasn’t all that bad of a cook. It was nice to have someone else doing the cooking, besides her. It was like a holiday.

But she missed Henry and her home. She didn’t like living in town, snuggled in between a row of houses, with all the town noises. She missed the woods and the animals behind their cabin. Henry’s daily telephone calls didn’t make her feel less lonely, only more. Her body ached for his strong arms to be wrapped around her, for his cold feet to tickle her in bed. They hadn’t been separated like this, nights, since his police force days.

She switched off and covered her computer, then turned off the desk lamp.

Zeke was behind her. “Ready to call it a night?” He had his jacket and her sweater hanging on his arm, her purse in his hand.

She stood up, her middle-aged muscles protesting. “More than ready.” She took the purse. Her boss, always the gentleman, helped her put on the sweater.

Zeke knew about the trouble in the park. She’d confessed everything. He’d been astonished, then worried as she’d disclosed the complete story. Worried because so many people were missing or dead. She asked him not to print the story yet and he’d consented saying he understood. Though it was the kind of spectacular feature that could have saved the ailing newspaper, Zeke wouldn’t jeopardize people’s lives. He knew the story would only send curious people running to the park, where they’d be in danger, too.

But he couldn’t wait until he could run it and talked about it constantly. What perspective to write it from, how to lay it and the photos out on the front page to gain the most effect, how long they could ride on the series.

Ann stood on the dusk-darkened sidewalk and watched Zeke lock the door. They strolled through town past the shops on the way to his house, a tall rambling structure that cried for fresh paint and tons of work. Not that it was ever going to see either.

“Ann, been meaning to tell you something, but I’ve been a coward, I guess.”

She paused in front of a book store, slid a sideways glance at him, a sense of sadness settling, a heavy shawl, upon her shoulders. She knew what he was going to say and didn’t want to hear it. He’d been subdued all day.

“After next week I’m shutting down the newspaper. I can’t make payroll anymore. Can’t pay the rent, the electric bill. I’ve gone through most of my personal savings and, well, now I have to admit defeat. Throw in the towel. I’m real sorry. I know how hard you’ve worked to keep it going. You’ve loved it nearly as much as I have,” his voice was choked.

Ann didn’t know what to say. She wanted to cry, but that’d only make it harder for Zeke, who looked as if he felt bad enough. “I’m sorry.” She touched his hand sympathetically. “Really sorry.”

They continued walking in sad, draggy steps.

The paper had been Zeke’s life for so long, it was inconceivable to think of him being anywhere else but in that building down the street working on the following week’s edition.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Well, I imagine I’ll retire. I should have long ago. My son wants me to come live with him in Los Angeles. Says I can work part time on the paper there.”

Ann was surprised. Zeke had lived his whole life in Klamath Falls and sworn he’d never leave, except in a box. But, times, as well as people, do change. “Are you going to?”

The old man seemed to be taking in the last of the sunset, drinking in the misty pastel colors and the distant border of the park’s woods with hungry eyes. “Nope, I could never live anywhere else but here. But I think I’ll go up and spend the remainder of the summer with them. Get to know my son, my grandchild, a little better. It’s the right thing to do. Haven’t seen any of them in a couple of years. Always too busy. Now I’ll have the time, I guess.”

Ann didn’t know what to say. She was experiencing guilt in the pit of her stomach. That dinosaur in the lake story would have saved the paper, could still save the paper. If only it was safe to print it. If only.

“How about you? What will you do,” he could barely get the words out, “once the paper closes down?”

She smiled. “Get another job, I suppose. Unlike you, I’m too young to retire.” Her and Laura both would be looking for new jobs. Even Henry, if he couldn’t get rid of that interloper in the park. “Besides, we can’t afford to live without my paycheck.”