by David Fulk
His spirits started to sink as he got down to the last key. He held it up right in front of his nose and gritted his teeth.
“Come on, come on,” he whispered intensely, as though he could make it fit by sheer will. Then he pushed the key against the slot.
No go: it wouldn’t even slide in.
Martin let out a groan and looked all around, scouring his brain for an idea. He spotted a pile of metal scaffolding pieces neatly stacked against the shed wall and immediately knew what he had to do. He picked up a cross brace, jammed the flat end into the doorjamb, and pried with all his might.
Being a scrawny kid had never been a picnic for Martin, but right now his gangly body and pencil arms were his worst enemy. Though he pushed and pried with everything he had, the blasted door wouldn’t budge. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, and his legs started shaking from the strain. But he kept on pulling.
Suddenly, his mind flashed to that horrible sight from his dream—the bright lights, the deafening music, the teeming crowd—and poor Rufus, straining against the heavy chains as his heartless keepers shot thousands of volts through him.
As though all that energy were now surging into his own body, Martin let out a fierce growl and gave one mighty heave worthy of a linebacker. Crack! The jamb splintered and the door popped open.
He rushed inside the shed and flipped on the light—and what he saw in the middle of the hard cement floor made him sick to his stomach. Rufus was lying there on his side, tightly wrapped from head to toe in a heavy tarp. He couldn’t see, and he couldn’t move.
“Rufus!” Martin exclaimed. “Oh, man…” Hearing his friend’s voice, Rufus grunted and squirmed excitedly.
“Shhhh, keep still.”
Martin wasn’t sure how much time he had left, but he wasted none of it in untying the sturdy cords that held the tarp snugly around Rufus. He quickly got the tarp loose enough for his big friend to wriggle out and scramble to his feet. Thrilled to be free again, he bobbed and danced like a sprightly parakeet, slowing down just long enough to slap his long, clammy tongue across Martin’s neck. Martin smiled and gave him a quick hug.
“Okay, okay. C’mon, we’ve gotta go!”
He rushed out the back door, and Rufus followed—but stopped short of the door. The big dino swayed back and forth nervously.
“What’s the matter? Come on!”
Rufus still wouldn’t move forward, so Martin pretended to run off into the night without him. That did the trick: Rufus lowered his head and lunged forward through the doorway. But the reason he had hesitated instantly became clear.
It was a very narrow door, and Rufus wasn’t just a puny little lizard anymore. Whoomp! He got himself lodged firmly in the doorjamb. He kicked and thrashed, but he was really stuck in there tight. Martin tried to pull him through, but there was no way to get a good grip. So he squirmed underneath Rufus back into the shed and started pushing.
Even in the best of conditions, moving a four-hundred-pound dinosaur through a two-foot-wide door is no stroll in the park. And Martin knew two things: (1) they had very little time, and (2) they were making way too much noise. But he also knew that failure was out of the question. So he pushed and pushed, his face turning purple and his eyes bugging out, as Rufus kept pedaling away against the slippery floor. But he would not budge.
Panting hard, Martin looked all around the shed. He noticed a bunch of restaurant supplies in a corner and raced over to have a closer look. Right there on a shelf, glowing like gold, were several big plastic jugs of cooking oil.
He grabbed a jug, hauled it over to Rufus, and got right to work. On most days he would have had a very tough time lifting a heavy thing like that, but right now he was running on high adrenaline; he skillfully hoisted it up onto his shoulder and poured the oil right over the stubborn spot where wood met dino skin.
He ran around and did the same on the other side, then skittered back behind Rufus for another push. Again Rufus pedaled his feet, and again Martin shoved with everything he had.
“Come on, come on…”
Still, no forward motion was happening.
Martin jumped up on Rufus’s back and whispered intensely in his ear cavity.
“You have to do this, Rufus. It’s your only chance. They’re gonna chain you up and zap you and make you dance in front of a whole bunch of grubby tourists. I know you can do it, boy. Please, just do it. Push. Push!”
All of a sudden Rufus let out a loud bark and gave a mighty lurch forward—and squotch! He squirted free, stumbling out into the great outdoors. Martin fell off him onto the grass and rolled over onto his knees.
“Yeah! You did it, buddy! Woo-hoo!”
When he heard his voice echo back to him from the woods, he winced. Too loud!
“Let’s go!” he half whispered.
Rufus followed Martin along the fence toward the back of the main building, letting out a braying noise as they ran.
“Shhhhhh!” Martin cautioned.
They quickly made it to the service gate—but there was no sign of Audrey.
Now his worst fears started rearing up again. Maybe she had gotten lost in there and couldn’t find her way back. Or maybe—he tried not to entertain the thought, but it kept butting in—maybe she got caught. Aaacch! Martin knew he would have to go in and find out.
He went over to the restaurant kitchen window, took a deep breath, and started to climb in—when Audrey suddenly appeared on the other side, startling him.
“Hoh!”
“Sorry. All right! You got him!” she said brightly as she climbed out. “Hiya, Rufus!”
“Did they see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Great job. How did you…” He peered through the window and could see, through a narrow opening leading from the restaurant into the midway, two men scrambling around in confusion—Ollie and Jasper. It looked like they were trying to grab something small, prickly, and really fast.
“I let the muskrats out.”
Martin looked at her and couldn’t help smiling. They started to laugh, but it ended quickly when Rufus let out a high-pitched squeal.
“Come on,” Martin said as he dug the keys out of his pockets and started trying them in the gate padlock.
This time, luck was on his side: it took only three keys to find the one that opened the lock. He pulled off the chain, and he and Audrey rolled the gate open. He dumped the rest of the keys on the ground, and the three of them clambered up the ridge and into the woods.
Martin felt a huge wave of relief—and maybe just a bit of pride—rushing through him as they pushed ahead into the predawn darkness of the forest. Mr. Eckhart lived way on the other side of town, but getting to his house should be a piece of cake compared to what they’d just pulled off. Yep, the hardest part was definitely over.
Right?
It was quite a sight: two nervous eleven-year-olds and a tall T. rex thrashing their way through the woods. Or it would have been a sight, if it had been light enough for anybody to see them. That possibility was growing by the minute, as they could tell from the hints of dawn peeking up over the eastern horizon.
“Are you sure this is the way?” Audrey asked more than once. She’d never been in this part of the woods before.
“I said I’m sure,” Martin said, although he could tell his unsure tone wasn’t giving her much comfort.
After a good mile and a half of stumbling and groping their way along, they finally came out of the woods near the edge of town. It was a quiet neighborhood with small, ordinary-looking homes, not yet stirring with signs of daily life.
Martin led the way up the embankment to a road, and they made their way along the grassy shoulder for about three blocks. Arriving at an intersection, they stopped and Martin took a moment to think. He tried hard to look like he knew what to do next.
“Which way?” Audrey said.
Martin looked all around. “Over there.”
They started across the street, b
ut when they got halfway across there was a flash of light that stopped them in their tracks. They looked down the road and saw a pair of headlights, closing in fast. Without a moment’s thought, Martin and Audrey doubled back to the side of the road and ducked behind a big juniper bush.
But not Rufus. He stood there in the middle of the street, transfixed by the sight of those two fiery balls of light coming around the curve, getting closer and closer.
“Rufus!” Martin called. “Rufus! Come here!”
But the big dino didn’t move. He was frozen there like…well, like an animal caught in headlights.
Martin and Audrey sprinted out from behind the bush and into the road to grab Rufus. They pulled hard, and Rufus somehow got the message that he needed to move. He went along with them back to their roadside hiding place—just an instant before a big panel truck finished rounding the curve and shot right past.
Rufus had never seen anything quite like that before—and it got him good and spooked. He hissed and twitched, ready to bolt.
“Shhhhh,” said Martin, stroking his back gently. “Easy, boy.”
“Ai-yai-yai,” Audrey rasped. “Do you think they saw?”
Martin watched the truck disappear down the street. “Nah. They probably would have crashed or something.” He took a breath, then looked over at the reddening eastern horizon. “Let’s go.”
Again they headed out into the road, this time making it across without any unwanted adventures. They moved silently into the neighborhood and after about two blocks stopped in front of a small house. Martin scanned it, a blank look on his face.
“This one?” Audrey asked.
Martin nodded.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look sure.”
“I rode right by here last week, and he was mowing his lawn. It’s this one.”
Audrey scratched her neck and fidgeted. “Okay. Let’s go, then.”
“Wait. It might be that one.”
“Martin!”
“No! This one. I’m positive.”
“No you’re not.”
“What do you mean?”
“You just said it might be that one.”
“It’s not. It’s this one.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m positive.”
“If you were positive, you wouldn’t have said it might be that one.”
“I didn’t make that as a positive statement.”
“Which statement?”
“The other one.”
“What?”
Rufus let out a throaty bark. “Shhhhh!” they both hissed at him—even though their own bickering was probably noisier.
A few house lights were on in the neighborhood, and Martin knew that if anybody was looking out their window right now, the sight of two kids with a nervous tyrannosaur was sure to set off a few alarm bells.
Across the street, somebody’s garage door started opening.
“In the back,” said Martin. “Hurry up.” He trotted up the driveway of the house they’d been staring at, and Audrey and Rufus fell in behind him. They circled around to the backyard, where, Martin assumed, they’d be less likely to be seen.
When they got there, Martin stopped again to think. He felt nervous being in somebody’s backyard uninvited (especially if it was the wrong one!), and Audrey’s staring at him just made it worse. Rufus seemed nervous too—he swayed back and forth and gave a restless snort.
Deciding he’d have to go for it, Martin stepped up to the back door of the house and knocked. No sign of life inside. He peeked through the window into the darkness inside, then knocked louder. Either nobody was home, or somebody was fast asleep.
He took hold of the knob and gave it a turn—and was a bit surprised when the door opened. Audrey held her breath as he took a step inside.
“Hello?” he called. “Mr. Eckhart?”
Still no answer. “Ohhhh, wow,” Audrey mumbled. “Oh, wow. I knew this was the wrong one. I knew it. I had this feeling about it, and—”
Seeing something, she froze.
“What.” Martin came back out and looked at what she was staring at: on the other side of the patio, behind a rusty old deck chair, was that odd-looking Van de Graaff generator Mr. Eckhart had brought to school last spring.
Martin gave her a self-satisfied little grin; of course it was the right house. She almost rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was more relieved than peeved.
There was a small garage at the back end of the driveway, and Audrey went over to check it out. She pulled on the handle at the bottom of the door, and it swung open. “His car is gone.”
Martin took a second to process this. “He must have stayed at the U overnight.”
“Why is it taking him so long?”
They both jumped as Rufus let out a growl and leaped halfway across the yard.
“Rufus!” Audrey scolded. “Be quiet! Come back here.”
When Rufus turned back toward them, they could see right away what had set him off: he threw his head back, snapped his jaws a few times like an alligator—and swallowed the last bit of a furry gray tail.
“Ai-yai-yai,” Audrey droned. “Poor squirrel…”
“He’s really hungry.”
Audrey scratched her elbow and let out a nervous sigh. “We can’t stay here, Martin. Somebody’s gonna see.”
Martin looked up one more time at the brightening sky, and tried to put it all together. “We’ll have to stay in there till he gets back.” He nodded toward the garage.
“In there? Really?”
“Unless you have a better idea.”
She looked at him blankly. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Rufus!” Martin gave a half whistle and headed for the garage; Rufus followed without complaining. They all went inside, and Martin turned on the light as Audrey pulled the door down behind them.
Now all they could do was wait. But the dead quiet that engulfed them allowed all kinds of worrisome thoughts to intrude into Martin’s head as he paced slowly around the room.
He looked at his watch: almost seven o’clock. By now his parents were certainly up and had discovered his empty bed. They’d scrambled all over the place looking for him, then probably called the police.
Ollie, or maybe somebody else, had surely noticed the broken back door on the maintenance shed. No doubt they’d called Ben Fairfield, and he’d probably yelled at a bunch of people and then sent out a search party of his own.
The school day would be starting soon, and two seventh-grade desks would be unoccupied.
Martin sank down onto the cold cement floor. He rubbed his eyes, then watched absently as Audrey gently stroked Rufus’s belly, trying to keep him calm. But she didn’t look very calm herself.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Do you have your phone?”
He felt in his pocket. Nope: forgotten again. He looked at her and shook his head.
Her eyebrows knotted up, and she looked down at the floor. “Jade and my dad’ll be going crazy. I should’ve left a note or something.”
“Yeah…me too,” he offered, barely above a whisper.
Maybe the hard part really was still to come.
Martin had been pacing back and forth in that tiny garage for what seemed like forever. Audrey stood leaning against a wall, bouncing an old rubber ball she had found on the floor. Rufus twitched and fidgeted, giving an occasional squeal or low gurgle, or sometimes scratching the side of his head against the wall.
The plop, plop, plop of the ball on the floor was really starting to get on Martin’s already-frazzled nerves.
“Do you think you could, sort of like, not do that?”
“Do what?”
He let out a sigh and stepped over to the small window in the side wall for about the forty-sixth time. It was hard to see much from that angle, but there was a sliver of a view of the street out front. A car went by, and though he couldn’t be completely sure,
to Martin it looked a lot like a police cruiser.
“There goes another one.”
“They must be looking all over the place,” Audrey observed.
Martin scratched his knee. “What time is it now?”
She checked her watch. “Ten-thirty.”
“What’s taking him so long?” he grumbled, resuming his pacing. For Mr. Eckhart to be gone that long—overnight, even—was not a good sign, not good at all.
Martin was regretting having skipped dinner the night before; now he was feeling plenty hungry. And he knew they’d both have to hit the bathroom pretty soon. And if that wasn’t enough, Rufus was getting more restless by the minute.
Some unsettling thoughts crept into Martin’s head. Is this really the best plan? What if Mr. Eckhart doesn’t come back at all? Or if he does, how do we know he won’t be just like all the others and sell Rufus up the river? Stop! You can’t think like that!…Or is it possible they’re right, and Rufus will soon be too big and too mean to handle, even for me, and he’ll have to be in a cage?
“No! That’s not it!”
Martin had blurted it out before he realized it.
Audrey looked at him like he was some lunatic from Pluto.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I was just…”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. No, this is the plan, and it’s definitely the right one. And it’s too late to turn back anyway.
Suddenly, Rufus lunged at an old tire in the corner and chomped down on it like it was a giant ham sandwich.
“Rufus, no!” Martin scolded. “That’s yecch.”
“He’s really, really hungry,” Audrey added, in case Martin hadn’t noticed.
Martin thought hard. “Maybe there’s some meat in the house.”
“Okay.”
They went over to the small door in the back, but it was locked tight. So they went to the big car-entry door and Martin tilted it up just an inch or two while Audrey put her cheek to the ground and peeked out.
“Looks clear.”
Martin lifted the door a bit higher, and Rufus sprang over to be the first one out.
“Rufus, no,” Audrey chided. “Just us. You wait here.”
