Digging For Trouble

by Linda Fairstein

  Kyle smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.

  “That’s fine with me, Steve,” Katie said. “In fact, I guess I sounded kind of selfish, asking to take one of the eggs for myself.”

  “Well, you were just excited, and I understand that.”

  “I’d actually like three of the eggs, not just one. I’ll wait for them, but I’d like Kyle and Dev each to have one also.”

  “Ixnay on an egg for me, Katie,” I said. “I’d rather think of them all on display in the museum where thousands of people could see how cool they are.”

  “I could come visit them, too,” Kyle said. “Dev’s right.”

  Katie got to her feet. “I can see the plaque under the glass case already. ‘KATIE CION: THE DISCOVERER OF WILLIE D. AND THE DITCH.’”

  “Yeah, except no one’s found Willie yet,” I said. “Don’t let your imagination run away with you.”

  “Who’s getting back to work?” Chip called out to all the older kids.

  “Katie, you can stay right here with me for the rest of the day,” Steve said. “Let’s dig around the Ditch and see if we can come up with anything related to your clutch.”

  “Kyle and Dev, too?”

  “Sure thing.”

  We were all on our knees, back to the grunt work with our picks and our whisk brooms. But I was tingling with excitement now as Steve reminded us how rare Katie’s find was.

  “You never know, Katie,” Steve said. “Every paleontologist who goes on a dig hopes to find fossils—something unusual, something rare. And the really big prize is the discovery of a new species.”

  “You mean there are still species of dinosaurs that haven’t been found yet?” Kyle asked.

  “You can count on that,” Steve said. “Fifty years ago, people—even professionals in my field—thought that dinos were cold-blooded animals, slow and stupid.”

  Everywhere I put my little spade, all I came up with was dirt. There wasn’t going to be a Eureka! moment for me.

  “Now many of us believe they were warm-blooded, smarter than we’d thought, and really able to run fast. We never imagined they traveled in herds—which they did—and certainly not that they nested in colonies. But recent digs have confirmed those things.”

  Katie was staring at her clutch with great pride, and I couldn’t blame her.

  “It’s okay, Katie,” Steve said. “You can touch your eggs. You won’t break them if you just rub the top.”

  She leaned in and stroked the rough exterior of two of the eggs.

  “I guess I never thought of reptiles as laying eggs,” Kyle said. “Rattlesnakes don’t.”

  “Rattlers are ovoviviparous,” Steve said. “There are eggs, but they hatch inside the mother’s body.”

  “Ovoviviparous,” Katie said. “What a really cool word that is.”

  “Could we just not talk about rattlesnakes?” I asked. “At least not till Katie and I get on the plane tomorrow.”

  “But plenty of reptiles do lay eggs, Katie,” Steve said. “Turtles and crocodiles. They’re oviparous.”

  “I like the other way better. I like saying ovoviviparous,” Katie said.

  “If you can repeat it quickly, five times in a row, you might be able to be a paleontologist,” Steve said to her.

  “So even though your fossils are millions and millions of years old,” I said, “you’re still learning new things about them?”

  “We are, Dev.”

  “Our science teacher told us that birds are living dinosaurs,” I said. “Like they both came from a common ancestor.”

  “That’s the latest debate in the world of paleontology,” Steve said. “We’re all out in the field, looking for fossils to fill in the gaps in our knowledge of these creatures. Laying eggs is an example of a trait that birds and dinosaurs share, just as caring for their young in a nest is. One of the great things about science is that in most fields, it’s still evolving. We learn new things all the time.”

  “So you might find entire duckbill fossils right here?” I asked.

  “We’re hoping,” Steve said. “Might even get lucky one day and find some fossils with crests.”

  “Crests?” I asked. “What would that tell you?”

  “You know how ducks—and some other birds, like parrots and cockatoos—have crests on top of their heads?”

  “Sure. I’ve seen them at the zoo.”

  “The earliest duckbill fossils found in Montana had no crests—no bony structure poking up a bit above their eyes,” Steve said. “Then, just a few years ago at another dig not far from here, one of my colleagues found some crested skulls.”

  “I get it. That might give you more proof that dinos do have some of the same ancestors as birds.”

  “That’s the notion. But you can’t push these theories if you’re a scientist, Dev. The evidence has to come to you.”

  Katie was stretched out full-length on the dirt, running her fingers over her eggs. “I wish I could stay out here and keep digging,” she said. “Wouldn’t you love to discover an entirely new species, Dev?”

  “That would be epic,” I said.

  “We could call the species the Cion-o-saurus,” she said, grinning. “Cionosaurus katus. Beast of the Badlands.”

  9

  I was sorry to leave the site of the dig that afternoon. We packed up our gear and one of the volunteers drove us back to Big Timber.

  This was my first trip out west. Each time we drove along the highway, since I had arrived, I was pretty amazed by the wide open spaces that spread out on both sides of the road. You could go for miles without seeing any houses, and then there would be farms with large barns and animals like cattle and sheep grazing along the fences that bordered the property.

  There were also wild animals everywhere you could look—and not the scary kind. I especially liked the pronghorn antelopes and the huge elk that sometimes showed themselves when the sun started to go down.

  Back at the Cion ranch, Katie’s mom greeted us. We told her all about what Katie found and she assured us that her husband would call and ask the ranch owner if Katie could keep the bones when Steve finished his research.

  We showered and changed our clothes and headed back into town to go to the Sweet Grass County Rodeo for our last night in Montana.

  There were a lot of contests, so we settled into our seats in the stands and got ready to cheer on the bull riders and pony racers.

  The best event of the evening was the one featuring bucking broncos. It was best, of course, because we had a friend to root for.

  When his turn was announced, Kyle’s bronco burst out of the pen and into the ring of the small stadium like someone had lit a fire under his tail. The horse was bucking from the moment he hit the ground, kicking up a dust storm and jumping from side to side to throw his rider off his back.

  Katie’s hands were clasped in front of her mouth, which had the benefit of stopping the squealing she’d been doing when the event began.

  Kyle was concentrating on staying on the horse. His right hand gripped the reins while his left arm was swinging in the air, helping to balance him as he got rocked around.

  The announcer counted the time until the horse bucked Kyle onto the ground. A rider had to make the eight second mark for a score to count in our age group. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but nine and a half seconds in the saddle was good enough to win Kyle first prize in the junior division.

  Watching the action at the rodeo and enjoying the barbecue there was a perfect ending to our time in Big Timber. It was dusk, and I was pretty worn out after the excitement of the day.

  Katie and Kyle walked off together to buy ice-cream sandwiches for us, while I sat with Katie’s mom in the grandstand.

  “Are you okay, Dev?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mrs. Cion. It’s been a great vacation. I can’t thank you enough for
including me in it.”

  “Katie wouldn’t have come without you. Now she’s going home, all full of herself with her great big discovery, and Kyle’s got a blue ribbon tonight,” Mrs. Cion said. “Can’t we win a prize for you somehow? Are you feeling disappointed, Dev?”

  “Not at all! I’m good. Katie and I have had so much fun out here.”

  “We’d better be getting back to the ranch,” she said. “We’ve got a long travel day tomorrow.”

  I knew Katie wasn’t going to want to say good-bye to Kyle. Dressed in his chaps and boots and ten-gallon hat, he looked like an authentic rodeo champion.

  “I’ve been thinking about Katie’s birthday next week,” I said, “and I may have figured out exactly what she wants.”

  Mrs. Cion smiled at me. “So you’ve been getting hints, too? Something about a locket she can wear every day?”

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that,” I said, shaking my head. “Nothing like jewelry.”

  “That would be a healthy change, Dev. What has Katie told you?”

  It wasn’t exactly anything that Katie had said, but it suddenly occurred to me that a night at the museum would be the perfect birthday celebration. I’d been there myself for another party, and I was pretty sure Katie would like the idea.

  “Well, she’s so pumped up by our two days on the dig and the fact that her nest and baby bones are being shipped to the museum to be examined, that she really wants to have a sleepover party—you know, a small one—at the museum.”

  “Devlin Quick,” Mrs. Cion said, turning to me and raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Absolutely certain.”

  I never lied. I knew better than to do that. But a fiblet was an entirely different thing. Fiblets always contained a large kernel of truth, to which I added a bit of wishful thinking. Nothing dishonest at all.

  “Does the museum let you do that?”

  “Yes, ma’am. One of the girls on the swim team had her party there this spring,” I said. “I think there were eight of us and a chaperone—her mom, of course. Everybody in sleeping bags, which really makes it fun. And you have to pay the museum something, but that’s like making a contribution to a great cause, isn’t it? So educational and all that.”

  “What a great idea. I’ll make a call before we leave for the airport tomorrow and see if I’m not too late to book a slumber party there next weekend,” Mrs. Cion said. “We can always get Katie a locket for Christmas.”

  By Christmas, Katie would be so over Kyle that she’d be thanking me for arranging such a good caper.

  With a little luck, Steve will have shipped the fossils back to New York by then, and Ling will be in residence to give us a private tour of the lab where the bones will be examined.

  We could even use the opportunity to try to check to see if anyone had switched Katie’s little bones on her that first night at the dig, for sure. Maybe it would be our chance to talk with Ling about that, if she was there.

  Katie and Kyle were laughing as they walked back toward us.

  “You’ll help me with the guest list, won’t you, Dev?”

  “Absolutely. She’ll want some of the girls from school, and if it’s okay with you to have a guy, we’d want to invite Booker Dibble for sure. He loves dinosaurs, too.”

  “That would be terrific, Dev. We adore Booker, but—”

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Cion. They make you have a chaperone for your group.”

  “Then it’s all good,” she said. “I’m so glad Katie confided in you.”

  “Well, sometimes you just know someone so well you can figure out what they’re thinking,” I said. “Even if they don’t exactly say the words out loud.”

  Katie would definitely want that party if she knew how much it meant to me to get us inside the most dino-smart place in the world.

  “I’ll even make cupcakes for Katie,” I said.

  “It’s beginning to sound like a plan. Shall we keep it a secret?” Mrs. Cion said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Top secret.”

  “Then let’s start talking about the contest, ’cause here they come.”

  Mrs. Cion waved and reached her hand out to take the ice cream that Kyle and Katie had carried back for us as she and Kyle climbed back up onto the grandstand.

  “What are you two giggling about?” Katie asked.

  The announcer was declaring the winner of the mutton-busting contest. The entrants were five- and six-year-old kids riding on sheep like Kyle had done with the bronco.

  “Have you seen these mutton-busters, Katie?” I asked. “They’re the cutest things I’ve ever watched.”

  “Kyle did that when he was a little kid,” Katie said. “Didn’t you, Kyle?”

  “Yeah. My mom’s got pictures of me hanging on to one of our sheep for dear life, back when I was four years old.”

  “Can I have one of those pictures?” Katie asked.

  There she goes, I thought to myself, with that silly idea for her locket. She’d be much better off with a behind-the-scenes tour of the museum than some goofy shot of Kyle sitting on a load of mutton.

  “Guess so.”

  Katie clasped her hands together and did her happy dance, which always made me laugh.

  “Here’s what I think,” Katie said, leaning in to talk to her mother and me. “That I am the luckiest girl in the world right now.”

  I was licking the vanilla ice cream that was dripping from the edges of the sandwich. “I’ll say.”

  “A week out here with my mom and my best friend, lots of time with Kyle—who helped save Dev’s life today—”

  “What?” Mrs. Cion said, all the color draining out of her face. “What do you mean? What happened?”

  “She’s just kidding, Mrs. Cion,” I said, trying to downplay my accident so as not to upset Katie’s mother—or my own. “I slipped and fell on my tail when I was running down the hill this morning. Kyle gave me a hand to get me back on my feet. Saved me from embarrassing myself.”

  Katie blushed, realizing her mistake. “That’s what I meant, Mom. Dev’s just fine.”

  Mrs. Cion looked me over from head to toe.

  “I was saying all the good things that were going on this week,” Katie continued, playfully puffing her chest to sound like a grown-up as she went on. “I wasn’t finished. I found a clutch of unhatched dino eggs, which may advance scientific knowledge in the field of paleontology for decades—”

  “Get a grip on yourself, Katie Cion,” her mother said. “Stop boasting.”

  “Those were Steve’s words, Mom. I’m just repeating what he told us.”

  “That’s a direct quote, ma’am,” Kyle said.

  “I just mean, Mom, that I’m so happy that Dad encouraged me and Dev and Kyle to go on this dinosaur dig,” Katie said. “I almost didn’t do it.”

  “You are so very lucky,” I said, “and I got to tag along with you, too. I’ll thank your dad when we get back to New York, for sure.”

  I knew Katie was grateful for her good luck. It was her dad who had the idea that Katie would have fun on the dig, and he included me in the trip. I liked her dad a lot, which made me think of my own father, who had been killed before I was born. I knew how lucky Katie was.

  10

  The flight from Bozeman, Montana, back to New York was five hours long. It seemed like forever.

  Mrs. Cion sat across the aisle from us, with Katie squeezed between a stranger and me—I had the window seat.

  “What are you reading?” she asked me. We hadn’t talked much since we left the rodeo. I was sad—my own doing, with my thoughts about my father—and really exhausted.

  “Treasure Island.”

  “Is that on our summer reading list?” Katie said, still buzzing from her time with Kyle. “I haven’t even glanced at that yet. Is that why you’re reading it? I thou
ght it was a boys’ book.”

  “I’m reading it because I love Robert Louis Stevenson,” I said. “My mother used to put me to sleep reciting his poems to me at night when I was a little kid.”

  Stevenson’s verses always soothed me when I was worried about having nightmares. He wrote about garden swings, lamplighters, the pleasant land of counterpane, and my favorite of all about his shadow.

  “Besides, Katie,” I said, “there’s no such thing as boys’ books or girls’ books. They’re either good or bad, the way I look at it. This one is all about buried treasure, just like the fossils we were looking for.”

  I put my nose back in my book.

  “Dev,” Katie said, interrupting me, “can we talk for a few minutes?”

  I put my finger in the page of the book where Katie stopped me. “Sure.”

  “Then don’t look out the window when I’ve got something to say to you.”

  “Don’t be so bossy.”

  “Wow, you’re grouchy today, Dev.”

  “Sorry.”

  I didn’t know one Great Lake from another, but looking down from 35,000 feet in the air, unable to see the shore on the far side of the vast body of water we were flying over, this one looked as wide as the ocean. I stared for a few seconds while I composed myself.

  “I’m the one who wants to apologize to you. I was so full of myself all day yesterday—after finding my dino eggs—that I was really rude, and then I was kind of silly, hanging on to Kyle at the rodeo,” Katie said.

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling at her. “You weren’t rude. You were really happy, and you should have been.”

  “I bet you were thinking about your dad when I started talking about mine,” Katie said. “I sort of know that look you get when you do.”

  “I was.”

  “I know how that hurts.”

  I didn’t allow many people into that private space where I held all my thoughts about my father. But Katie Cion and Booker Dibble—my two best friends—were welcome to enter whenever they chose. My mom had the key, too.