Rex
Page 7
Guess I’ll just have to switch ’em all.
She scanned the basement again, eyes straining to see. Once she flipped the switches, there’d be no way she’d be able to make it across the basement, up the stairs, and out the back door before Ellen came down to check the problem. She’d need to find a place to hide down here. Then…she did. An old, weird-looking coat hung deflated on a rack within running distance. Grinning, she counted to three, and off went the lights.
Ellen’s curses were muffled by the floor, but not enough that Sam couldn’t understand what she was saying. Sam giggled as she slunk away.
The basement door squealed open, allowing a sliver of sunlight to shine in through the nearby windows. Ellen’s curses lead the way down the stairs, followed closely by her angry, stomping feet.
Part one of the plan had gone off without a hitch.
TJ, you’re up.
***** ***** *****
TJ pressed against the wall of the garage, careful to stay out of the line of sight from any of the windows. His chest puffed with pride at the pure genius of his plan. Sam had wanted to wait for the guy to leave, but “What if he goes snooping in my room?” TJ had countered. “Even with my awesome lock, if he’s a real spy, he could definitely breach it. And then he could find the eggshell. Or he could use whatever spy gear he has to pick up traces of dinosaur DNA. We need to get in there.”
Besides, I’m a man of action, he thought, chin pointed prominently toward the horizon.
He peeked around the corner, which gave him a clear view of the living room window.
Any minute now.
Sure enough, the lights in the living suddenly went off. TJ allowed a victorious grin to arc across his face as he carried the picnic basket into the garage. He walked straight into the car parked inside when he discovered the lights were off in there, as well. “Doofus, you were only supposed to turn off the lights in the living room,” he groaned as he rubbed his bumped knee.
Not wanting to waste time griping about how Sam was ruining his amazing plan, TJ hobbled to the door that lead into the house. Once inside, the stairs up to his bedroom were only a few feet away. He put his ear to the door and listened as his mother’s string of curses traveled from the living room to the back of the house. He slid inside as quietly as he could and scanned the area for signs of the intruder.
Clear. Go! Go! Go!
TJ scaled the stairs, not breathing until he was safe in his room. TJ set the basket down, suddenly realizing how sore his arms were from carrying Rex around all morning. Rex climbed out of the basket as TJ began scouring his room, searching for anything incriminating, straining his eyes to see in the dark.
He reached for his flashlight just as the lights flicked back on. “C’mon, boy,” he said to Rex, pointing at his closet. “Go in there.” Rex lowered his head and whined. “Just for a few minutes, I promise. Then you won’t have to hide anymore, and I’ll get you some medicine for your stomach.” Rex waddled into the closet, pouting as best a dinosaur could the whole way.
TJ shoved some of the toys that Rex had been playing with under his bed, just in case a trained dinosaur-hunting government agent could spot Tyrannosaurus rex teeth marks. He looked in the shoebox in his desk’s bottom drawer to double check that the eggshell fragments were still there, safely wrapped in tissue paper. They were. He slammed the drawer shut when his bedroom door swung open.
Ellen let out a shriek when the drawer banged shut, and TJ bolted upright.
“Mom!” he cried. “Ever hear of knocking?”
“I didn’t even know you were here.” She put her hand over her heart. “You nearly gave me heart failure.”
“Ditto,” TJ replied.
“When did you get back?”
Before he could answer, another set of footsteps came bounding up the stairs. He expected Sam to push her way past his mom, but the man who entered his room looked nothing like Sam, not even a little bit.
“Ellen, is everything alright?”
But he did look oddly familiar.
A kooky smile spread across Ellen’s face, looking totally out of place. “Yes, everything’s fine. My son just surprised me, that’s all.” Ellen, probably having noticed the scrunchiness of TJ’s eyes as he studied the man, added, “TJ, this is Brock Horne. Brock, this is my son TJ.”
Brock stepped forward and extended a hand for TJ to shake. TJ took it but never stopped squinting, trying to figure out how he knew this man with the chiseled jaw and Superman handshake. Then TJ remembered what was hiding in his closet. “I actually just came back to get my, uh…” He looked around his room for an excuse and quickly blurted out, “My pogo stick.”
Ellen made a face. “You haven’t used that thing in years.”
“Yeah, well, Sam bet me I couldn’t pogo and sing the National Anthem at the same time, so… Gotta go.” He pushed Brock and his mom into the hallway and ushered them downstairs. He lingered awkwardly for a moment, hoping Brock would leave and the pukey feeling in his gut would follow, but they all just stood there, staring at one another. “So,” TJ said after a while. “Are you two, like, friends or…?”
Ellen jumped in, apparently more than a little eager to stop TJ from finishing his sentence. “No!”
Brock chuckled at her curtness. “I actually met your mother briefly at the diner the other day. I ran off before I could even ask her name.” His flirty smile made TJ want to barf on his shoes. “Work always calls me away at the worst times.”
Ellen fidgeted with her hands as her cheeks flared crimson red. Brock just kept smiling. TJ swallowed a few times, willing the barf to stay put.
“Well,” TJ finally said, rubbing his throat. “Guess I’ll go warm up the pipes.”
“Wait,” Ellen called, stopping him in his tracks. “I almost forgot. Brock actually stopped by to see you.”
Uh-oh.
TJ’s gut clenched—for real this time. Brock turned his gaze away from Ellen and fixed it on TJ. The way Brock was standing, the square of his shoulders, the deep rumble of his voice… It finally dawned on TJ why he recognized him.
Brock walked toward the front door, talking over his shoulder. “I had no idea Ellen lived here. Quite a shock when she opened the door. And a very pleasant one at that.” He picked something up from the end table and showed it to TJ. “I came here because I found this.”
My Pickelhaub helmet!
TJ locked eyes with Brock. He saw something in them. A hint of understanding. “I wanted to make sure it got back to its rightful owner. It’s a real shame when someone loses something important to them. Know what I mean?”
TJ gulped air and nodded.
Horne nudged the helmet into TJ’s chest. Not hard enough that Ellen would notice, but with enough force to send a message. “If someone found something important that I’d lost, I would only hope that they’d return it, because I know I’d do anything—anything—to get it back.”
TJ struggled to swallow the lump in his throat before it strangled him. He held his once treasured helmet like it was a hand grenade with the pin missing, about to blow up in his face. Ellen nudged his shoulder. “What do you say?” she whispered.
Brock looked at TJ with a wide, brimming smile and eyes that seemed kind and warm, not cold like the eyes of a ruthless government assassin. Man he’s good.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Brock said with a wave of his hand. “Like I said, I’m just doing what I hope someone would do for me.”
He seemed so genuine that TJ almost blurted out that he was hiding a dinosaur in his closet. Almost. Instead, TJ bit his tongue. Because that’s exactly what Brock (probably not even close to his real name) wanted him to do. He was making nice and flashing disgusting, flirty eyes at TJ’s mom because he was trying to get them to lower their guards.
Well, shields are up to three million percent, you tricky goon. Nice try!
Brock stepped out onto the front steps and turned to Ellen. “I’d be lying if I said I thought this was just a coinciden
ce. Me finding that helmet. It belonging to your son. Us, together again…”
Fortunately, Ellen Beaumont was not one to swoon at a slick smile and poetic nonsense. “Being in close proximity does not make us together. It makes us near one another,” she said.
TJ wanted to cheer his mother for seeing through Brock’s gentlemanly ploy, but something in her smile kept him from doing so. A twitch at the corner of her mouth. Something almost playful. Too playful.
Don’t fall for it, Mom. This guy’s a goon!
But Brock saw it, too. “Well, might we be near one another again? Perhaps somewhere that serves coffee? Or better yet, dinner?”
Oh gross. PUKE! No way Mom falls for such a load of—
“Sure,” she said. “Every time you walk into Lulu’s during my shift.”
TJ wanted to cheer again. He was sure she just told him to stuff it without actually telling him to stuff it. But then he saw that twitch at the corner of her mouth again, along with a strange glint in her eye. And why was Brock smiling? She had just kicked him in the pants with her words, hadn’t she?
I’m so confused.
Brock finally left. Ellen watched him while he got in his Humvee and drove off. After he was gone she kept staring. Not at the Humvee, or anything really. It was like she was looking into a different time, seeing things she thought she’d never see again.
TJ cleared his throat. Ellen jumped, snapping out of her daze with flushed cheeks. Her embarrassment immediately turned to a hostility of sorts. “Care to tell me why you’re leaving your stuff all over town?”
***** ***** *****
The smile immediately slid off Brock’s face and fell out the window of his speeding Humvee. There was no time for those kinds of distractions. He turned down a narrow, unpaved road, one that would be hard to notice if you weren’t looking for it. The Humvee jostled over the bumps and dips in the road, soon kicking mud into the air as he drove further into the swamp. His cell phone flipped into the air off the dashboard, but Brock caught it with one hand and dialed the number.
“It’s me,” he said. “No, I didn’t put eyes on the package. But I’m sure it’s there. The boy has it.” His jaw clenched. The vein in his neck looked like a snake crawling down into his shirt. “Understood, sir. I’ll get it back. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Chapter Eleven
“What kind of person drives a Humvee anyway?” Sam threw a tennis ball at the ceiling as she lay on TJ’s bed. “They’re terrible for the environment. What could you possibly need a vehicle like that for? My mom says guys who drive cars like that are overcompensating for something, whatever that means. And you’re right about the name. Brock? Yeah right. Totally made up.”
Rex rolled from side to side on the floor, moaning and clutching his out-sticking belly. TJ sat cross-legged beside him, patting his head, trying to make him feel better. It didn’t appear to be working. “I don’t care about that guy right now. Something’s wrong with Rex.” The little dinosaur had been groaning and whining ever since devouring TJ’s Frisbee. Prehistoric digestive systems obviously didn’t know what to do with plastic. Then again, as far as TJ knew, modern ones didn’t do so well with it, either.
Sam slid off the bed. “Yeah, he doesn’t look too good. If he were one of my pets, I’d take him to see Doc.” She squatted down beside Rex and gave him a compassionate pat on the side. “Hope you feel better.” She poked her head into the hall to make sure the coast was clear. “It’s already dark. I have to get home before my parents freak out. Call me if you need me.”
TJ wanted to tell her to stay, but he knew he couldn’t. Sam couldn’t start blowing off curfews or ignoring her parents. They couldn’t act like anything different was going on, especially now that Brock was poking around. But now TJ was alone with his sick friend and had no idea how to help him. His vision blurred through the tears building in his eyes. Tears of helplessness and frustration. Of the sudden fear that he’d gotten into a situation he couldn’t handle, and Rex might suffer because of it.
TJ took a deep breath, let it swirl around inside his head, blew out all the worry, and then took stock of what was left. He remembered his mother, always working two jobs, somehow managing to take care of him when he was sick. She would juggle shifts, plead and beg with bosses to cut her some slack, drag babysitters out of their homes by their ankles, whatever she had to do to make sure he was okay and that she’d still have a job when his flu eventually passed.
If she can do it, I can do it.
“I can do this,” he said aloud, clenching his fists. He set Rex on his bed then cleared out his closet to make a suitable place for the little dinosaur to lie down and recuperate. He rigged up some camouflage just in case his mom peeked inside. Now, all she’d see was the usual pile of dirty clothes. He slipped on his backpack and laced up his shoes. Rex was his pet. His responsibility. Time to get stuff done.
The homemade deadbolt locked into place. He slid his window open and lowered the rope ladder. He laid Rex in his new bed, made sure his water bowl was full, and stroked his scaly nose. “I’ll be fast, Rex. I’ll bring back medicine that’ll make you feel better. Try to rest.” TJ climbed down the ladder and darted off into the night.
He stuck to the side yards, diving and rolling behind hedges and garbage cans whenever he had the chance. Best to stay hidden in case Brock was watching. TJ scrunched his lips into a grimace. If anything, Brock was probably at TJ’s house watching Ellen with those stupid googly eyes of his. He pushed the thought out of his head.
Need to stay focused. Can’t get distracted by gross things.
It took him much longer to travel the few blocks to Doc’s house going incognito. Traveling out of cognito would have been so much easier.
Doc opened the door and smiled in a reserved way. He looked around, probably searching for whatever adult had accompanied TJ considering the late hour. His smile flattened out when he saw no one else. “Something I can help you with, young man?”
“It’s an emergency,” TJ declared. “My pet ate a Frisbee.”
Doc’s flat smile became a wide circle, stretched with surprise. “An entire Frisbee? That does sound like an emergency. Does he have a stomach ache?”
“Yeah, a bad one.”
Doc waved TJ inside and gestured for him into the kitchen. “What kind of dog is he?”
“That’s kind of hard to say.”
“A mutt, huh? Well, how big is he?”
TJ shrugged. “Not too big. Maybe eight pounds or so.”
Doc’s eyebrows arched like a McDonald’s sign. “That’s quite a feat for such a small dog.”
“I guess. It happened pretty fast.”
Doc searched through a cabinet full of tiny bottles. He selected one with a blue label and handed it to TJ. “Lots of dogs eat stuff they shouldn’t. It can get them into trouble, so you really need to keep an eye on them, especially if you don’t know the breed. Some dogs have more voracious appetites than others.”
TJ was confused. “Voracious?”
“It just means they’ll eat anything.”
“That’s Rex, alright.”
Doc laughed. “Give him a teaspoon of this medicine tonight. But be careful with it—it’s really powerful stuff. It’s going to make him poop and puke. Get that Frisbee out of his system in no time.”
TJ reached for the bottle, happy to finally have something resembling a solution, but his heart quickly sank and his hand hung in the air. “Um, I don’t have any money.”
Doc smiled, a sympathetic twinkle in his eyes. “Tell you what,” he said as he pushed the bottle into TJ’s hand. “Pay me when you can. I’m not one to let an animal suffer because of lack of funds.”
Tears swelled in TJ’s eyes. He managed to keep them at bay through sheer force of will. “Thank you, Doc.”
Doc ushered TJ to the door with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Before TJ could take off into the dark, Doc spun him around. “There a reason you came here on your own and at this hour?”
“Hey, none of my concern if you’re hiding a stray in the garage. I just want you to know that if your mom catches wind and your dog suddenly needs a new home, you can always bring him here.”
TJ smiled. “Thank you.”
And with that he was running for home, not stopping to catch his breath even though he thought his lungs would burst. He scampered up the rope ladder and climbed into his room. He could hear Rex’s moans growing louder.
TJ took Rex out of the closet and sat him up on his bed. He uncorked the medicine bottle and held it up, hoping Rex would somehow understand what needed to take place. But that was not what happened. Rex took a whiff of the liquid in the bottle and instantly rolled onto his back, howling and moaning. TJ leapt onto the bed to hush him before his mother could hear. Rex rolled again before TJ could pin his arms down. TJ climbed to his knees, ready to pounce again, but caught a T-rex tail upside his head. He flopped over, but somehow managed to keep the medicine from spilling. He shook the stars from his vision then grabbed Rex’s powerful tail before the dinosaur could scurry away. He pulled Rex toward him and pressed his arm across Rex’s chest to keep him from thrashing and wiggling free.
“This is for your own good, Rex,” he said and dumped the entire bottle into Rex’s mouth. As soon as the bottle was empty, TJ remembered that he was only supposed to have given Rex a teaspoonful. Oh well. No going back now. He held Rex’s mouth shut until the little lizard couldn’t help but swallow. TJ rolled to the side and Rex scurried to his feet.
The rumbling began immediately. Rex’s stomach sounded like there was a cement mixer inside it. A very large, very powerful cement mixer. Rex bent over. What happened next really can’t be described. Well, actually it can, but doing so would definitely ruin your day. Or your forever. It was the kind of thing you just couldn’t un-see. Or un-smell.