by David Fulk
“Or somebody might see.”
Martin shrugged.
“You’ll have to take him out sooner or later, though, right?”
Martin thought about it, and he realized she was absolutely right. “Okay,” he said, heading for the stairs. “Let’s take him out.”
“What, now?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well…I don’t know, I was just kind of like…throwing it out there.”
“We’ll just go for a few minutes.”
“What if he runs away?”
“He won’t.”
“But you don’t know for sure.”
Martin really wasn’t too worried about it, but to put her mind at ease he found a length of old clothesline and knotted it into a leash, then gently dropped the loop over Rufus’s head. Rufus twitched and thrashed at first, not at all happy having a rope tied around his neck; but after a couple of minutes he seemed to forget it was there.
There was a pair of creaky old wooden doors that led from the barn’s lower level straight out into the far end of the yard. But they hadn’t been opened in ages, so Martin had to go outside and pull away a bunch of weeds and brush that were blocking them. He finally managed to get one of the doors partway open, and Audrey poked her head out.
“Know what I forgot?”
“What.”
“I have to call Jade.”
“We’ll just be a few minutes. Can you call her when we get back? It’s only three o’clock.”
She seemed a little unsure. “Okay.”
“Ready?”
She nodded and handed the end of the leash to him, and they both pushed the door the rest of the way open.
At first, Rufus hesitated to step out into this odd, unfamiliar world. Martin thought maybe he remembered that scary day when he was almost left all alone out there. He finally stepped through the door, looking around, taking a few sniffs of the grass at his feet.
“Well,” Audrey said, “I guess he— Whoa!”
She had barely gotten the words out when Rufus, spotting a sparrow as it rocketed through the air from the yard into the woods, made a sudden dash after it.
The leash immediately went taut in Martin’s hands, and he was yanked right along with the charging dinosaur. “Hold on, Rufus!”
“Ai-yai-yai!” Audrey cried, and she quickly grabbed the leash to help Martin hold on.
Between the two of them, they were able to halt Rufus’s mad dash. But he was over eighty pounds of pure muscle now, and he kept tugging and twisting, trying to get free of the rope. Martin and Audrey held on for dear life.
“You said he wouldn’t run!” she hollered.
“I might have been wrong on that.”
“Oh, great.”
Rufus somehow managed to get the rope between his teeth, and in a flash—snap! All they held now was a loose piece of rope, and Rufus was hurtling into the woods after the little brown bird, his powerful hind legs pumping like a Thoroughbred’s.
“Ohhhhh!” Audrey rasped. “Not good. Not good!”
“Rufus! Come back here!”
They raced into the woods after him. By now the sparrow was long gone, but Rufus was so excited by all the other birds flapping around in the brush that he dashed every which way, trying to snap one up in his hungry jaws. The birds were much too fast, though, so his only meal was a big helping of fresh Wisconsin air.
He spotted a chipmunk hopping along a log; again, instinct took over and he lunged after it—until it easily escaped up a tree.
A butterfly flitted past, and he snapped at it twice, three times, four times, trying to turn it into a light snack. But it was just too quick.
Rufus wasn’t having much luck catching anything, but he did succeed in causing a near panic among all the small animals within fifty yards. A rabbit dashed into the underbrush, squirrels shot up into the trees, frogs leaped into a pond, and in the sky overhead a flock of restless crows sounded a shrill alarm.
Martin and Audrey tried their best to keep pace with their charged-up friend, but he was amazingly nimble, springing in and out of the brush like a spry fox, and they fell way behind.
“Rufus!” Martin shouted. “You come back here this instant!” For some reason he decided that the stern-parent approach was the way to go, even though his logical mind understood that this human concept would most likely be lost on a six-week-old prehistoric brain.
Before they knew it, Rufus was completely out of sight.
“Ohhh, man,” Audrey moaned. “Ohhh, man. Now what are we—”
“Shhhh!”
Martin went perfectly still and listened. Audrey did the same. Their eyes slowly scanned the trees and brush on either side of the path.
A faint hissing sound, kind of like a leaky steam pipe, seemed to be coming from a small thicket across the way. As they tried to zero in on the spot, the hiss suddenly got much louder, and then it turned into a full-out yowr! Rufus jumped straight up in the air as a snarling snout with bared teeth and a set of cutlass-like claws lashed out at him.
Rufus leaped out of the thicket and hightailed it through the brush and brambles, straight back to his own human “mom.”
“Rufus!” Martin exclaimed, half laughing, as Rufus darted around behind him, cowering like a frightened puppy. “You bad boy! What did you do?”
“What was that?” Audrey said.
“There’s a badger burrow over there. He must have gotten too close to the babies.”
“Wow…learned something, eh, Rufus?”
They both smiled, relieved that he was back with them.
“Maybe we should fix the leash,” she offered.
“Nah. I think he’ll stay close now. C’mon, Rufe.”
Martin’s hunch was right: as they strolled farther along the path, Rufus showed no interest in leaving them this time. And within ten minutes they were like three old friends again, merrily strolling through the woods without a care. Martin talked more than he ever had in his life, providing the full scientific details on many of the rocks, trees, and bugs they came across along the way. Audrey seemed interested for a while, though eventually her attention started to wander a little.
When she stopped for a moment to jot down another note on her little pad, Martin gave her a curious look.
“What’s your novel about?”
“Oh, the usual stuff…. Life. Love. Passion. The condition of man.”
“Sounds fun…. When do you think you’ll finish it?”
“Mm, well…technically I haven’t started it yet. But I’m very close!”
Martin grinned, and they strolled along in comfortable silence.
Rufus, meanwhile, had calmed down quite a bit, and seemed content to tag along with them, sniffing around in the brush as they went. But when a gopher made the bad decision to dart across the path in front of them, Rufus—with a quick narrowing of the eyes, a flash of teeth, and a ferocious grunt—was on it in an instant. No clumsy miss this time; just like that, the furry rodent had become an afternoon snack.
“Wow!” Audrey said. “Did you see that?”
“He’s quick.”
“Doesn’t this guy ever stop eating? He’s like a vacuum cleaner.”
“He needs it. He’s growing so fast.” He noticed Audrey chewing on her lower lip. “What.”
“I feel sorry for the gopher.”
“Yeah…that’s the thing about nature. You’ve got your food chain, and at the bottom it’s your first trophic level, like photosynthesizing plankton—”
“Hey, Martin? Do you think you could, kind of, like, dial it back a little with the science talk? I mean, it’s cool and everything, but I think my head might explode.”
“Oh. Okay.” It hadn’t occurred to him that she might be getting bored.
They stood there quietly; then Martin realized they weren’t far from one of his favorite places in the woods.
“Last one to Munson Creek is an extinct species.”
He suddenly took off down the footpat
h, and Audrey—not one to shrink from a challenge—darted after him. At first Rufus just watched them go with a vacant stare—but then, having no intention of being left alone again, he dashed after them.
They soon got to Munson Creek, and Martin and Audrey giggled as they raced down the slope to the stream bed. Martin vaulted across the creek and dove into a big, soft pile of dry leaves, nicely preserved from the past fall. Two seconds later, Audrey did the same.
“I win!” he hollered as they tossed big handfuls of leaves at each other, laughing and giggling like…well, like eleven-year-olds playing in a pile of leaves. Then Rufus charged into the creek, lost his footing on a slippery stone, and plopped face-first into the leaf pile, right next to them.
“Rufus, you lose!” cried Audrey, and she and Martin threw big gobs of leaves all over him. Excited by all the horseplay, he chomped down on a thick stick and swung it around in the air. Martin grabbed the other end, and the two of them wrestled for it as though Rufus were a frisky Labrador retriever.
“I think you feed him too much Fido-Nummy,” Audrey said.
Martin got the stick loose from Rufus’s jaws and tossed it across the creek. “Fetch, Rufus!” Rufus completely ignored the command.
“By the way, how do you know he’s a he?” she asked.
“Mmm…just guessing, really.” He spotted something yellow right next to where the stick had landed, and went over to investigate. There, half buried in the dirt, was an old Frisbee. He pulled it out, brushed it off, and got an idea.
“I bet I can teach him a trick.”
Audrey watched skeptically as Martin went into a half crouch and took aim.
“Rufus…Rufus! Catch!”
He reached back and gave the Frisbee a backhanded fling. His aim was perfect—but Rufus just stood there, barely even noticing as the plastic disk floated over and bounced off his chest.
“That’s good, Martin. I’ll call Eyewitness News.”
“He needs practice.”
He retrieved the Frisbee and took it back over to launching position. Meanwhile, Audrey’s gaze wandered over to a low-hanging cloud. Something was on her mind.
As he took aim again, she asked the Dreaded Question.
“What are you gonna do when he gets really big?”
“Rufus! Catch!”
He flung the disk again, and this time it whizzed right past Rufus’s head. He watched it fly by, but made no move to catch it.
Martin went to get it again.
“Sooner or later he won’t fit in that barn anymore,” Audrey said. “People will find out.”
“It’s not a big deal. There’s still lots of time to think of something.”
“Maybe if you told somebody now, there wouldn’t be—”
“Rufus! See? Here it comes, boy. Ready?…Catch!”
He let the Frisbee fly once more, and this time it floated straight at Rufus’s head—and with perfect timing, he snapped it right out of the air, instantly crushing it in his powerful jaws.
“Yeah!” Martin cried.
Rufus chewed on the yellow disk for a few seconds—until he realized that dirty plastic makes for a foul-tasting meal, and, with a dramatic gag, spat it out.
“This,” Audrey declared, “is going to be a very weird summer.”
Twenty minutes later Audrey remembered that she still hadn’t called Jade, and they headed for home. It had been a fun hour out there, especially for Rufus, and on the way back he was on his best behavior—he stayed close to Martin and Audrey and didn’t make any more mad dashes at small animals. But they had a close call when, with perfectly bad timing, he managed to come down with a case of the hiccups.
As they learned at that moment, when a young T. rex gets the hiccups, it makes a very odd sound—sort of like a parrot imitating a toad’s croak. Martin and Audrey might have thought it was funny at any other time, but when they spotted a pair of fishermen crossing through the woods about fifty yards away, they gasped and quickly ducked behind a rock, pulling Rufus down there with them. But Rufus kept hiccupping, and when the men heard the strange blork! echoing through the trees, they stopped to listen and look.
Martin tried to cover Rufus’s mouth with his hand—not a very practical strategy, or a particularly smart one, considering the sharpness of Rufus’s teeth.
Blork!
Martin and Audrey held their breath. Martin peeked out and saw the fishermen looking right in their direction, listening intently.
Finally, one of the men mumbled something to the other, and they continued on their way. Martin and Audrey breathed again. The secret stayed safe for now, but when she threw him a look, he knew exactly what she was thinking: fun or not, maybe this outing hadn’t been such a great idea.
When they finally arrived back at the yard and headed for the barn, they heard the phone ringing in the house.
“That’s probably my mom,” Martin said, remembering he was supposed to have called her right after school. “Wait here.”
He ran across the yard toward the house, not stopping to think that Rufus would try to follow him.
“Whoa!” Audrey yelped, grabbing the charging beast around the midsection. “Martin!”
Martin turned back to them but didn’t stop. “Rufus, stay with Audrey. Stay.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’ll bring my phone. Just hold him. I’ve gotta get this.”
“Martin, wait! Ai-yai-yai…”
She struggled to hold on as Martin ran inside the house through the back door.
He raced across the kitchen and into the dining room.
“Hello?” he said, grabbing the phone on a small table against the wall. “Oh, um…she’s not here right now…. Okay. Bye.”
He trotted back into the kitchen, grabbed his backpack from the counter, and dug around for his forgotten cell phone. Once he had it, he stepped over and threw open the back door, but the instant he opened it—splat! Rufus leaped in like an eager puppy and landed on top of him, and they both crashed to the floor.
“What are you doing, you big doof?!”
Audrey ran through the door right behind him, eyes like poached eggs. “I couldn’t hold him! He’s too big!”
“You can’t come in here, Rufus. Let’s go. Out.”
He started to lead Rufus back out the door—but again, Mother Nature had other ideas: a big horsefly with an obviously poor sense of direction buzzed right through the open door and into the kitchen. Rufus went after it.
“Hey!” Audrey and Martin shouted in unison.
The fly shot out into the dining room, and Rufus followed at full gallop.
“Ai-yai-yai-yai-yai,” Audrey spluttered as she and Martin chased after him.
Rufus followed the pesky bug into the living room, trying to snap it out of midair. He ran all around the room, jumping on and off the furniture.
“What are you doing, you crazy dino?!” said Martin as he and Audrey scurried around after him, trying to grab him. When his tail whacked Mrs. Tinker’s favorite lamp, Martin made a heroic lunge and righted it before it could topple to the floor.
“Will you keep still?” Audrey pleaded.
The fly buzzed off into the hall, and Martin decided to lay down the law. When Rufus sprinted for the hallway door, Martin jumped over and pushed his hands and feet up against the sides of the jamb, blocking the way.
“Rufus T. Rex, you stop running this instant!”
Rufus stopped in his tracks. He looked at Martin with curious eyes, panting from the chase but seeming in a calmer state now that the fly was out of sight.
“Now come with me.”
Martin stepped in and motioned for Rufus to follow him to the kitchen. But unfortunately, no one had told the horsefly that the chase was over; it zipped into the room, did a quick circle, and zoomed right back out into the hall.
Rufus slipped past Martin and bolted after it again.
“No!” Martin cried as the wily bug whizzed into the den and Rufus followed.
&n
bsp; As he and Audrey reached the den door, Martin got an idea. “Go in and shut the door. I’ll get something.”
“Get what?”
“Just do it!”
With a dull groan, Audrey went into the den and closed the door behind her. Meanwhile, Martin raced into the kitchen and threw open the fridge. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, but he knew it when he saw it: a package of raw pork chops, neatly wrapped in plastic on a Styrofoam tray.
He snatched up the chops and hustled back toward the den. But on his way there, he glanced out the living room window and froze solid: his mom had just gotten out of her car and was heading up the front walk.
“Ohhhhhhhh,” Martin muttered. “This…is not a positive development.”
Fighting his growing panic, he raced back to the den and threw open the door. Rufus wasn’t focused on the fly anymore, because now he was chewing on a throw pillow. Audrey grabbed the other end and tried to pull it away from him, and they got into a tug-of-war.
“Little help here?!”
“My mom’s home!”
She froze. “What? She just called you!”
“It wasn’t her.”
She gulped loudly.
Martin did some fast thinking. He ran over to the window; Audrey followed, and they tried to pull it open. Nope—stuck like a barnacle on a boat hull.
Rufus caught a glimpse of the package in Martin’s hand, took a couple of sniffs—and lunged straight at it. Martin snatched it away and went into all kinds of contortions to keep it away from Rufus’s eager jaws. He tossed it to Audrey; when Rufus charged her, she tossed it back.
They both flinched at the sound of the front door slamming. “Martin!” His mom did not sound happy.
Martin quickly slipped out of the den and shut the door behind him. Suddenly remembering the pork chops in his hand, he swung the package behind his back and turned to greet his mom just as she came around the corner.
“Hi, Mom!” The smile was phony, but it was the best he could do.
“Martin,” she snapped, “why didn’t you call? Holy geez, I kept calling your cell, I called the house, then I thought maybe you went to work after all, so I called your dad and he hadn’t seen you, and that got me all worried, so I had to leave work early, and now I’m going to have to—”
