Dinosaur Lake (3 page)

Henry placed a kiss on Phoebe’s head. “Did you guys feel that earthquake?”

Ann nodded, a biscuit in her hand. “I worked later than usual, so I was at the newspaper when it hit. It shook the town. No real damage, though. Darn.” She snapped her fingers in disappointment. “Widespread destruction would have made terrific pictures for this week’s edition.” With a mischievous grin, she buttered the biscuit and put it to her mouth.

“You ghoul,” Henry teased. But he understood her desire to get a good story for the newspaper she worked for. Good stories boosted circulation.

Sweeping off his hat he placed it on top of the refrigerator. His jacket went across the back of the chair that he settled into.

“It rattled some glass in the gift shop,” his daughter confided, biting into a piece of chicken. She was already on her second helping of everything. “Didn’t break anything, though. Real mild.”

“Wasn’t as bad as I thought, then,” Henry muttered. “It was worse up on the rim. I was worried about all of you.”

“That’s sweet of you, honey,” his wife leaned over to lay a kiss on his cheek, “but we women can take care of ourselves, can’t we, Laura?”

“Well, it scared me,” Laura huffed between bites.

Phoebe grabbed at her grandpa’s arm. “Pa-pa,” she beseeched.

Henry released the baby from her highchair prison. As he settled her into his lap, she flung her chubby arms tight around his neck. He was happy that everyone was okay, happy to be home with his family.

Since Chad had taken off, he’d been trying to persuade Laura to live with him and Ann. But Laura, at twenty, was fiercely independent and hard-headed. She’d been that way all her life and wasn’t about to change.

Everything they ever wanted Laura to do, finish high school and go to college, meet a decent young man, Laura had done exactly the opposite. She dropped out of school at seventeen, ran away from home at eighteen to marry Chad because she was pregnant. Babies having babies.

In some ways, Henry and Ann blamed themselves for Laura’s rebelliousness. They thought they hadn’t left New York soon enough and it’d hurt Laura in the early years because she hadn’t gotten enough attention and supervision. Henry blamed himself because he hadn’t beaten the crap out of Chad the first time he’d laid eyes on him. The litany of guilt concerning his daughter went on and on.

But since Chad had left, Henry and Ann had come to believe they had a second chance with Laura. They accepted what most parents have to accept sooner or later–that it was possible to be the best parent you knew how to be and still have your kids mess up.

Ann had said all along that with time Laura would grow up, do what she had to do and be fine. She’d make it, in the end, because she was a smart, ambitious girl. Like many kids, her youth and her hormones had led her astray. Eventually, she’d wise up, face reality and get back in the game.

Ann was right. Laura was finally growing up. She was changing every day, taking responsibility for her actions and decisions. She wanted to do it on her own while Henry wished she’d let them help more.

Henry’s worries evaporated as the three women he loved most in the world vied for his attention.

He ate his chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw with gusto; fed and played with his granddaughter and listened to the women’s gossip. The three of them discussed their day. It was a ritual they looked forward to, eating supper together a few times a week and talking. Ann wanted to know about the earthquake, and Henry wanted to know about what was going on in town. Even Laura seemed in better spirits than she’d been in weeks, chatting more than usual about her job and people she’d met that day. She had a sense of humor and would tell funny stories about them which made Henry laugh.

Three hours later, when Laura and Phoebe were gone, Ann and Henry sat on the front porch swing, creaking back and forth, bundled in their coats and snuggling. Porch therapy, they called it.

The woods were pitch black, but a soft glow from the windows behind them spilled into the darkness. Ann pointed to a pair of glowing orbs at the fringe of the forest and a blurry shape hiding in the night’s shadows. Then there were two shadowy shapes.

“Look,” Ann whispered, squeezing Henry’s hand and pointing with the other. “Deer.”

The two humans held their breath and watched the night deer until a forest noise scared the animals off. They were always seeing wild animals from their porch. If they were still, quiet, in the mornings especially, raccoons and squirrels would scramble up, unafraid, and stare at them. Sometimes Ann would feed them. Throw out peanuts or raisins. Sometimes the animals would even run up and eat them.

Ann told him she once saw a black bear in the distance, which was where she wanted it to stay. She was terrified of the larger creatures, especially the ones with teeth and claws. A few times she’d seen bobcats and coyotes, but their appearances were unusual. They tended to avoid people. And no one had seen a grizzly in the park in years. They tended to stay in the back woods.

After the deer were gone, Ann divulged her secret, “Laura told me before she left she enrolled today in GED classes in town. Two nights a week beginning next week. One of her dorm friends is going to watch Phoebe.”

“About time,” Henry mumbled. “But I’m tickled to hear it.”

“She wants to go to night school afterwards. Wants to be a nurse’s assistant, maybe even a full-fledged nurse someday.”

Henry hugged his wife and placed a kiss on the tip of her cold nose. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year. I was wondering how long it’d take her to go back to school and get some real direction in her life.” Relief was in his voice.

“I agreed that, in a tight pinch, we’d be the back-up to watch the baby,” Ann added.

“Sure, no problem.” Henry didn’t mind watching Phoebe. She was a good child, easy to care for.

Out in the woods something big rustled through the foliage, then it was gone.

Ann put her foot down and stopped the swing. “That was something today, wasn’t it, that earthquake? The second one we’ve had in as many years. Though it wasn’t bad in town, it must have done some damage somewhere.”

“I thought as much, too.”

Henry could just make out his wife’s face in the light from the kitchen. A sharp wind ruffled her hair. To him she still looked like the woman he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. She was still beautiful to him, still sexy and vital. His mind wasn’t on what she was saying.

“Zeke read the news wires, checked the Internet. They suspect the most damage was done deep underground.” Zeke was the managing editor, and Ann’s boss, at the Klamath Falls Journal.

“Do they know where the epicenter of the earthquake was?” His attention captured by the serious tone in her voice.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she hesitated, then went on, “but the information we got at the paper said it was here in the park. The quake was a bad one. Under the lake.”

“I was afraid of that.” Henry released a sigh. “Up on the rim when it hit, it knocked a bunch of the visitors right on their butts.”

Ann didn’t laugh.

Henry remembered the wall of bones. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to tell Ann about it sooner. Too much on his mind with his daughter visiting and the earthquake, probably.

“You’ll never guess what the quake uncovered partway up the trail towards the rim.”

“What?”

“It ripped open the ground and now there’s this wall of…bones. I’m not sure, but I think they could be…prehistoric. Maybe even dinosaurs. Most astonishing thing I’ve ever seen. They’re so damn big.”

Now his wife laughed. “Dinosaur bones? Are you sure?”

“No, but they could be. I’m no expert, but as a kid I was really into fossils. Dinosaurs. Live and dead. I know more than the average person about the subject.”

“I don’t believe it. Dinosaur fossils. What a story. Henry, if it’s true, do you know what this could mean to the park? To all of us?”

“Oh, that’s the downside, I’m afraid I do. The discovery could screw up the whole park. We’ll be overrun by park authorities, reporters–no offense to you, honey–sightseers, scientists and bone nuts from all over the place. All of them wanting to dig up the bones and the rest of the park’s land, to boot.”

“I sympathize, but, aside from those problems and overpopulating your precious park, it’s a fantastic discovery. Look at it that way. You’ll have to take me up there so I can get some pictures.”

Henry moaned. “And so it begins.”

“Have you told anyone else yet?”

“Oh, I’ve put a request in to John Day’s for one of their paleontologists to come out. Take a look. Their paleontologists were gone by the time I called, but the secretary promised she’d give the staff the message. Someone will be sent out as soon as possible.”

“Great,” Ann said. “I want to get up there and get pictures before they make the entire area off limits. If it’s really dinosaur bones, they’ll section it off to keep everyone away. You know those paleontologists; they’ll want to keep the discovery and all the fame to themselves.”

Henry moaned again.

“So,” Ann coaxed, leaning in close and snuggling as extra incentive, “will you take me up there tomorrow, first thing?”

“Okay.” He gave in. He knew better than to keep Ann from a story. It was like trying to keep a cat away from catnip.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He chuckled, envisioning all those strange bones in the ground. Ancient remnants of the distant past. Dinosaurs. Remarkable.

“Did you know,” he spoke, becoming the passionate child again, “that the Apatosaurus, which means
deceptive lizard
, once known as the Brontosaurus, might have measured ninety feet in length, and weighed nearly 38 tons?” Grown up or not, he still loved thinking and talking about dinosaurs.

“Ninety feet. That big, huh?”

“Oh, and they believe the Diplodocus,” Henry continued happily, “also a herbivore, a plant-eater, could have been around ninety feet as well, with a whip-like tale forty-five feet long. And Brachiosaurus, from the same time, the Jurassic Period, could have weighed 100 tons.” Henry paused, “Come to think about it, I wonder what dinosaurs were common around here sixty-five million years ago?”

“I don’t have the slightest idea,” Ann responded. “Maybe that paleontologist you’ve sent for will know.”

“He might.” Henry yawned. “I can’t wait to get another look at those bones in the light.”

“I can’t wait to see them, either. I hope it’s sunny tomorrow. I want good clear pictures. Zeke will positively drool when I take them in. They’ll help our circulation for sure.” She leaned her head contentedly against Henry’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, do you know I love you because you never cease to surprise me?”

He laughed softly. “I hope you always love me and I hope I always surprise you.”

“Until we’re both old and gray,” Ann murmured the promise they gave to each other at every opportunity.

Henry embraced his wife, and whispered, “Isn’t it about time we go in?”

“Yeah, it has gotten pretty cold out here, hasn’t it?”

Their laughter mingled and, arm in arm, they went in to bed.

The next morning Ann received an early wake-up call from Zeke at the newspaper, something about the final computer layout of that week’s edition being wrong, and she had to get into the office right away. She had to help Zeke fix it or the newspaper wouldn’t get to the printers on time.

Reluctantly, Ann postponed her trek with Henry to take pictures of the bones. People who work at small town newspapers wear many hats. Ann wasn’t only a reporter; she helped sell the advertising, design the ads, help put the paper together every week and send it off to the printers. It was always a delicate balancing act, especially since the Klamath Falls Journal was, as with many small newspapers these days, in financial trouble. Ann did everything she could to help keep it off its death bed. After all, it was her job on the line.

“I’ll get that layout fixed and to the printer’s quick as a bunny,” Ann quipped, crawling out of their warm bed and into her robe, “and return as fast as I can. If you check here later this afternoon, I should be back. Then you can show me that fossil bed, all right?”

“Sure, honey, I’ll swing by after lunch, and take you up there,” Henry murmured, sticking his head under the covers, wanting nothing more than to recapture sleep. The alarm clock hadn’t even gone off yet. It was barely dawn. Zeke and that crazy newspaper. Didn’t the old guy ever go home anymore?

Then the image of those monstrous white bones up on the rim came back to haunt him. He jumped out of bed and fought his wife for the bathroom. In the end, they shared it, and were both dressed and on the move within the hour, going separate ways after a hug and a kiss. No time for breakfast, just a quick cup of coffee.

Henry drove alone to ranger headquarters in a dawn’s light which reflected off the frost that covered everything. There were dirty mounds of leftover snow in patches that wouldn’t be completely gone until midsummer. It’d taken Henry a long time to get used to the unbelievably long winters in Oregon. Now he didn’t mind them.

He figured he’d get another cup of coffee or two while he was checking on his men and his messages. He played with the thought of going up to the lodge later for a real breakfast, but ended up stopping at a place inside the park and bought a large box of donuts for everyone. He did that once and a while as a treat. As he did, his men loved pastries; even though they were bad for the waistlines.

Munching on a glazed donut, he pulled into park headquarters. He strode through the door, opened his office and hung up his coat. Before he could grab a cup of coffee and his third donut, one of his rangers strolled in and took him by the arm.

“Boss, I need to talk to you,” his friend, George Redcrow said, shutting the door.

“Well, good morning to you, too, George,” Henry announced. His eyes wistfully glanced through the glass window towards the perking coffee pot. “You could have at least let me get my coffee. I was this close.” He waved two fingers an inch apart in the air between them.

George grunted, “Time for coffee after I tell you what I’ve got to tell you.”

Redcrow was half Indian, on his father’s side, and he looked it. He possessed sharp features in a hawkish face, soul-reading unnerving dark eyes and an earthy wit to match. Nearly as tall as Henry, he was heavier set, his gray-streaked hair longer, wilder, like his eyes and his nature. An excellent park ranger, he had an uncanny wisdom about the land Henry could only attribute to the fact he’d spent most of his life in the woods.

But he was the most superstitious human being Henry had ever known. George actually believed in ghosts, monsters, and U.F.O.s. In every other way, though, he was level-headed, intelligent and intuitive. He was a good man to have on your side or at your back in a tough spot. Henry had seen him take down a rampaging drunk with one swift move; had seen him diffuse tense or dangerous situations many a time with a calming word or two. Henry respected the man.

“Okay, spill your guts, ranger. But make it quick. I’ve got something very important to attend to and I haven’t had enough coffee yet. I’m about to go into serious caffeine withdrawal.”

George lowered his voice, “Thought you’d like to know I’ve been finding a lot of dead animals lately on Wizard Island.”

Henry shrugged. “What’s so unusual about that, other than the fact the animals swam all the way out to the island and ended up dying there?” Death was a part of nature. Animals grew old and died, or attacked each other and died. Weakened animals froze in the bitter winters and were uncovered, rotting, after the snows melted. Dead. That was nature.

Henry started inching closer to the coffee pot like a man dying of thirst might move towards water. George stuck to him. “The way they died.”

“I have to have a cup of coffee, George,” Henry said, opening the door. It was early enough, right before the morning shift, that the room was pretty nearly empty anyway. He couldn’t understand why George had wanted privacy if he was only talking about dead animals. Henry had assumed it was a personal matter. “What do you mean? How did they die?” He located his cup and reached out for the coffee pot.

“The carcasses, or what was left of them, were mauled and eaten by something that must have the biggest teeth we’ll ever see.”

“A bear?”

“No, the attacker was much larger than a bear. In fact, one of the carcasses was a bear.”

“Oh.” Henry’s eyebrows lifted and he let his lips smile gently. “Interesting. I guess now you’re gonna try to convince me it was one of your aliens…or some monster that’s taken up residence in the lake?” George’s words had reminded Henry of what the red-headed woman had said the day before.

“Monster in the lake? What are you talking about?”

“Ah, up on the rim yesterday, before the earthquake, some crazy woman told me a friend of hers saw something in the lake last summer. A big water creature of some sort. Have you heard any weird stories like that from any of the other rangers or visitors? Has anyone reported any strange animal sightings in or around the lake?”

“No,” George frowned, “but that might explain the tracks.”

“What tracks?” Henry raised his cup of coffee to his lips with a contented sigh. The first few cups every morning were sheer ambrosia.

“The tracks around the carcasses, the ones leading back into the water. They were enormous.” George looked at him, apprehension in his gaze.

Henry laughed. “Come on, George, lighten up. It was probably some overgrown cougar or an exceptionally big-footed bear that dragged its kills out to the island for feeding privacy. Bears around here do get quite large. You should know that. You’ve been here pretty much forever.”

George’s eyes, flint hard, glittered. “Then I should recognize bear or cougar tracks when I see them. And I’m telling you, they weren’t either. They weren’t like anything I’ve ever seen. Ever. Not to mention–why would any predator drag its kill all the way out to that forsaken island to eat it? Swim all that way? Why? Animals don’t care where they feed. Maybe we should start looking for something larger something…different. Could be there is something in the lake.”

Oh, great,
Henry mused, eating another glazed donut and watching his friend,
George has finally gone ’round the bend. Must be all that solitude.

George lived alone deep in the park in a cabin that was practically inaccessible. He liked it that way. He’d never been married, though he’d had a long string of lady friends. He’d worked odd jobs in the park since he’d been sixteen and had become a park ranger at twenty-one. He knew the park well and was familiar with every animal that crawled or scurried in its woods or swam in its lakes.

“George, you know, you need to get out more. Find a new woman. Not mooch so many suppers at my house,” Henry stated flatly.

“Boss, I’m not fooling around.”

Wiping sticky crumbs from his fingers on a napkin, Henry gave in. “Show the tracks to me.”

“I wish I could, Henry, but the most recent carcass and tracks I found, late yesterday, were in snow and mud, and it rained hard last night. I looked, but the tracks are gone now.”

“Well, describe them a little more to me anyway.”

“They were gigantic and they were deep, the toes spread wide apart. Looked as if the feet could have been webbed or even clawed.”

Henry actually chuckled, but George was serious, so he stopped.

“The animals’ remains were left partially in the water and were gnawed over later by some other animals, coyotes or fish or something. So the other larger teeth marks were hard to make out, unless you knew what you were looking for.”

“That’s a shame,” Henry said. “I would have liked to get a look at them and the tracks.” He gave his friend a long, hard look. “Listen, George, tell you what, next time you find those teeth marks on a dead animal or see those tracks, come and get me. No matter what time it is, okay? I’ll come. I want to see these monster footprints of yours.”

George cracked a smile. “Deal.” He stood up straighter, tucking in his shirt, anxious to look as neat and professional in his uniform as possible. “I guess I’d better start my rounds. I’ve been here three cups of coffee longer than you. You’ll fire me if I don’t get out there and make the park safe for the visitors.”

“Heaven forbid we should endanger the visitors,” Henry tossed back. It was a private joke between the two of them. George still thought of Henry as one of those visitors.

“See ya later, then. I have a tour group waiting for me,” George finished, slapping him on the back, and strolling out the door into the chilly morning.

***

Water monster sightings and monster tracks. What’s next? UFOs?
Henry threw an impatient look at his cluttered desk. There were reports to finish, people to call and meetings to arrange; but suddenly the walls were closing in on him. He had to get outside under the beautiful summer sky, breathe in the fresh air and walk among the trees.

And he wanted to get a good look at that fossil bed in the daylight, that’s what he wanted.

Getting an insulated go-cup from the office, Henry poured a final cup of coffee. Before leaving, he checked the morning dispatches from the local and park authorities (nothing urgent there), and after answering some procedure questions from a couple of the loitering rangers, he walked out the door and climbed into his jeep. He’d drive as far up the rim as possible and hoof it the rest of the way.

Ah, it was great to be boss. Well, sometimes.

Parking the jeep at the bottom of the trail, Henry hiked up. When he reached the bones, someone was already kneeling before the crumbling lava rock.

Henry walked up and the man turned and flashed a wide, friendly grin, then swiveled around on the balls of his feet and stood up with graceful movements not unlike a panther. The man was young, no more than mid-twenties or so, and was the thinnest person Henry had ever seen for his height. The man was almost as tall as he was.

“Howdy, ranger.” Perceptive brown eyes peered at Henry through golden wire-rimmed glasses and took in his uniform. “Sorry…Chief Ranger,” he amended. The man’s long hair framed a thin, pensive face. As chilly as it was, he wore only a flimsy blue-jean jacket over a sweater, and worn blue jeans. His tennis shoes were dirty from traipsing through the mud.

Henry was usually a good judge of character. It was something he’d perfected as a police officer. He could look at someone, observe their expressions and how well they maintained eye contact, and would know basically what kind of person he was dealing with.

The young man might be dressed shabbily, but something about the way he held himself, the way he moved, the way the brown eyes studied him tipped Henry off. This young man was sure of what he was doing and who he was–and not easily intimidated.

“I see it didn’t take long,” Henry said, his eyes flicking towards the wall of fossils.

The other man’s face registered puzzlement for a fraction of a second and then he said, “No, I got up here as soon as I received your message.” He smiled again. “I’m the staff paleontologist you asked John Day’s to send out, remember? You are Chief Ranger Henry Shore, aren’t you?”

Now Henry smiled. “Yes, I am.” He’d been afraid the man was a hiker or a tourist who’d merely happened upon the site. “No offense, but you look awfully young to be a PhD paleontologist.”

“No offense taken. I’m older than you think. I graduated college early. Don’t worry, I am a full-fledged paleontologist, with a secondary degree in seismology. That’s why they sent me. Been on staff at John Day’s now, oh, for about two years, but I’ve been on paleontological
digs all over the world with the top people in the field.”

“Oh, one of those child prodigies?” He still looked like a kid to Henry.

“No, not exactly.” The scientist seemed embarrassed at the remark and Henry changed the subject.

“Well, it didn’t take you long to get here, did it? What did you do, fly?” John Day Fossil Beds National Monument was over three-hundred miles away.

“In fact, yes. As soon as I got your message I had a friend, who has a pilot’s license, fly me up as soon as it became light. I couldn’t wait to see what you’d discovered. And, from what I can see already, I believe it’s an astounding find.” The brown eyes were shining with an obsessive glow. The eyes of a true zealot.

“How’d you locate the exact place, though?”

“Simple, Chief Ranger. I asked for you at park headquarters earlier. You weren’t in yet, so I moseyed on over to the Crater Lake Lodge to get some coffee and wait for you. I happened to come across this man in the lobby who was going on about these bones he’d seen yesterday up on the volcano’s rim after the earthquake. He gave me detailed directions. So, here I am.”