Dinosaur Lake

by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

  ***

  Henry strolled into the cluttered building to the sound of his wife’s voice.

  Ann was busy checking the layout of the new weekly shopper, an advertising circular, she’d finally talked Zeke into doing. It was the only survival tactic the old publisher would accept to keep the paper afloat. The only one. The shopper would bring in desperately needed revenue, Ann told him; it already had four times the subscription of the paper itself. Her idea. Though she still couldn’t get Zeke to take on commercial printing of business cards, fliers, and brochures, she hadn’t given up trying to persuade him because they had to do something to save the paper.

  “Better enjoy the extra revenue while we can,” she was saying, “I hear the Schnucks store is going to close next year.”

  “Uh, huh, I’ve been hearing the same thing for months. Rumors, I say. Merely rumors.” But Zeke’s tone wasn’t hopeful.

  Henry, as Ann, knew the three town grocery stores were the last life supports of the expiring newspaper, and if one of them shut its doors, the paper would lose money it couldn’t afford. Food stores paid good money and advertised year-round.

  “Postal rates are going up again, too, Zeke.”

  “Always something going up…except our circulation,” Zeke lamented.

  “Maybe these stories about the missing boats and the dinosaur bones, plus more feature stories once the scientists begin excavating, will boost the weekly numbers,” Ann offered.

  “We’ll need it, once that story on the annual Spring Fest’s salmonella-infected barbecued chicken runs, if the local businessmen don’t lynch us first. Then we won’t have to worry about the paper at all.” But the editor’s tone held humor. “We’ll really catch hell on the street tomorrow, Ann, when this story comes out.”

  Ann sighed, “Don’t I know it. I’m not going in to Freddy’s for lunch for at least a month, until the hubbub dies down. He’d probably poison me on purpose.”

  “Only a month?” Zeke snickered. “That’s what you think, girl. Freddy will never forget.”

  “Well, then, I guess I’ll just go to the Corner Cafe from now on. Except I’ll miss Freddy’s barbecue chicken.” Ann was smiling mischievously.

  “After the Spring Fest, I and about twenty-five others sure won’t.”

  Ann laughed. Zeke had been one of the unfortunate ones who’d ended up at the hospital. So he’d experienced the story first-hand. Yet revenge had nothing whatsoever to do with Zeke running the story. After all, it was news and he had to print it.

  Ann turned and saw him watching her from the doorway.

  “Husband, what a surprise. What are you doing in town?” Pleasure on her face as she walked over, which quickly faded when she caught the concern in his eyes.

  “Thought maybe you’d like to go out to lunch with me.”

  The ploy wouldn’t fool her. His tired and glum expression would tip her off something was bothering him.

  “Got something to tell me, huh?” she whispered up at him. “Something’s wrong?” Then, nearly in the same breath, “You’ve figured out what happened to those missing boats, haven’t you?”

  He nodded. “I believe so. I’ll tell you about it over lunch.”

  “Hi, Zeke,” Henry hailed over her head at the older man.

  “Hi, Henry. Out of your jurisdiction a little, aren’t you?”

  “My day off.”

  “Some people have all the luck,” the editor grumbled good-naturedly. “I bet you even got a pension plan, too.”

  “A modest one.” Henry’s laugh echoed in the small room.

  He chatted with Zeke as Ann shut off her computer and gathered her purse and sweater. After giving him their goodbyes, they walked into the bright sunlight.

  “Are you okay? You look terrible,” was the first thing out of her mouth as she eyed him. She gave him a quick, hard hug. “Looks like you haven’t slept at all. No great mystery because you never came home last night.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  The Corner Cafe was a few doors down from the newspaper office and they were nearly there. It served sandwiches and soup, great pies and cobblers, but no barbecued chicken.

  Henry took Ann’s hand in his and tucked it close to his side. “I’m fine now that I’m here with you.”

  “You and Justin were on the lake all night again, weren’t you?”

  “Yep. Squatting dead in the water like two scared turkeys the day before Thanksgiving.”

  She stopped and studied his face. “You saw something, didn’t you? There is something in that lake, isn’t there?” She sounded both vindicated and stunned.

  “Yes, we saw something and, yes, there is some sort of creature swimming around in Crater Lake and probably living below the water in the caves. Or so Justin thinks. Killing animals around Wizard Island. We ran into it last night. It attacked our boat. And it was big.”

  He heard his wife’s gasp, saw her body tighten. “Animals and…people…have been killed?”

  Henry nodded. “Possibly people. Right now they’re still classified as missing people.”

  “My god, you and Justin could have been hurt. Killed.”

  “But we weren’t. We’re alive and kicking. Well, I am anyway. Justin’s sleeping at the lodge. So you can stop fretting.”

  A bell rang announcing their entry as he opened the café door and steered her towards a rear booth. They sat down. The waiter, a skinny high school kid with shorn hair and an earring in one ear, dropped off menus and dashed off.

  Over lunch Henry recounted the night’s adventure.

  Ann remained quiet, but her expression, at different times, displayed incredulousness, excitement, or apprehension. Then fear.

  When Henry finished, her hand squeezing his, she said, “What a story! What a scoop. Wait until I tell Zeke.”

  “No, you can’t tell him about this yet. You can’t tell anyone.”

  She began to protest but Henry shushed her. “Don’t you see, you can’t tell anyone about this right now. It could unleash a mob of people on the park. Monster seekers, newspaper reporters, camera crews and the curious. They’d camp out everywhere. It’d be a circus. Worse. It could be a disaster. Justin and I feel the creature, whatever it is, is extremely dangerous, especially if it, as we suspect, can leave the water.”

  He told her about the dead animals they’d found around the Island, the missing boat people, and the tracks Justin had discovered going into the water.

  Ann understood. “No, I guess it wouldn’t be wise to advertise this yet.” She smiled softly, holding his hand across the table. She hadn’t let go of him since he’d told her of his close call the night before.

  “I’m going to close the lake area down. You can print that. We’ll just have to invent some other reason for it. Dock or road repairs or something. It’s going to be hard enough emptying the lake area this time of year, especially after that story of yours runs tomorrow. But I promise you, honey, soon as it’s safe and we figure out how to handle the situation, you and the paper can run the full account, exclusively. But first, one way or another, the problem will have to be solved. Park Service won’t like keeping the lake closed for long, it’s a large tourist draw and with that last round of budget-cutting the Forest Service did on us, we need the revenue.”

  Money, it always comes down to money, he thought.

  “Now I’m sorry those stories are coming out tomorrow, Henry. I’d try to stop them, if I could, but the paper’s already printed, bundled and on its way to the readers.”

  “Not your fault, sweetheart. Can’t be helped, so don’t worry about it. My men and I can keep the lake off limits, no problem.” Or so he hoped.

  He ordered more coffee and when the waiter left, he leaned against the booth. The orange plastic was cold against the small of his back. He was suddenly so tired he could have fallen asleep right there. Sensing his frustration, his exhaustion, Ann ran her hand down the side of his face and smiled understandingly.

  “I’ll finish my pie
and we’ll go home. You need some sleep.”

  “That I do.”

  “What did the creature look like?” she wanted to know.

  “Off the record.” Then he did his darnest to quench her curiosity.

  After he was finished, she asked about the progress of one of George’s pet projects, a homeless camp inside the park set up by the Forest Service and funded by the county. A kind of tent city. Campers who’d come, stayed and had never left. She planned to write their story, hoping to gain public support. There were so many homeless these days. They needed somewhere to go. Help.

  “The Forest Service got extra funding for them,” Henry revealed. “They can stay for a while. George told me how grateful those families are, not to be charged fees, or evicted and moved on again. They’re tired, beaten down. The board voted to let them stay until they get on their feet. George starts installing chemical toilets and setting up fire circles tomorrow. Several of the other rangers have agreed to help by reinforcing and rain proofing their homemade tents. And George is going to teach to fish those who don’t know how. Heaven knows how much he’s spent on the groceries he’s already taken out there.”

  “George’s a good man,” Ann said. “Heart of gold.”

  “That he is. I haven’t been out to the camp yet, but George says the conditions are pitiful. A dozen families live out there with their kids.”

  George wasn’t the only one who cared about the homeless. Ann was passionate about helping them, in and out of the park. How could people become homeless in the wealthiest nation on earth, she often asked him, and he knew she experienced guilt every time she bought a new blouse or ate a good meal when so many others wore rags and were hungry.

  “George says those at the camp are mostly people who’ve lost their jobs. Blue collar workers who’d been living from paycheck to paycheck. They lost everything and foreclosures forced them to leave their homes. The poorest of them are living in tents propped up by tree limbs, patched with taped together plastic trash bags, and warmed with propane heaters. They’re not bad people, just desperate. To survive, they’re self-teaching their children and trying to live off the land like mountain folks. Nowhere else to go. I’m glad the park is letting them stay. Getting them aid and the necessary paperwork, so they can.

  “Except,” Henry paused, “I’m worried. That camp’s near the quarry and that’s awful close to the lake.”

  Ann’s eyebrows lifted. “Could that be a problem? I thought you said the creature lives in the lake?”

  “It does. Most of the time, we believe. Maybe, to be absolutely safe, we should relocate the camp farther away from the caldera. After all we have two-hundred and fifty thousand acres of valleys and forest out there to choose from. No sense in taking chances.” He yawned, his eyes suddenly heavy.

  Ann stood up, and put her purse over her shoulder. “Maybe we should pay the bill and get you home to bed? You look like a zombie.”

  “You’re coming home with me?” He perked up, rising, as well, and fished out the wallet from his pocket.

  “I could. I’m done at the paper. I was finishing up when you walked in.”

  “Good. I’ll take care of the bill and you go ahead. I’ll be right behind and will meet you at home, hon. Drive carefully.”

  “I will. See you there.” His wife gave him a quick kiss and walked out the door.

  He wasn’t far behind.