Oasis

by Cathy Hapka

  “How do you do?” Jack greeted the saurian politely. Now that he was closer, he could see the signs of age in the Hypacrosaur's broad-nosed face.

  Luna bent down to peer into his eyes. “This one looks smart,” she said abruptly. Her voice was reedy and rather harsh, like a strong wind whistling through the stiff fronds of a sago palm. “A little scrawny, though. Are you sure you're a match for the desert, boy?”

  “I—I hope so,” Jack stammered, taken aback by the saurian's directness. “I mean, I've never gone on a trek like this before. But I'll try to stay out of the way, and—”

  “Never mind, Jack,” Cragnog interrupted with a chuckle. “Luna likes to tease. You'll have to get her to tell you about the time she tricked half of Meeramu into believing she'd discovered the long-lost Great Oasis.”

  “I did discover it,” Luna protested. “It just got lost again somehow.” She winked at Jack.

  “Never mind that now, you old liar, you.” Cragnog nodded toward the group of Aepycamelus. “We'd better finish getting ready. Looks like we'll be moving out soon.”

  Jack saw that Garrison and the others had nearly finished loading the Aepycamelus with their gear. He also couldn't help noticing that Ty was nowhere in sight. Maybe the other boy had changed his mind—maybe he wasn't coming along after all.

  Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Jack spotted a familiar tall, skinny figure bursting through the ginkgo grove. “Hey, Hardwick!” Ty called breathlessly. “Am I late?”

  Jack shrugged as the other boy skidded to a stop in front of him. “Well, we haven't left yet, if that's what you mean.”

  “Better late than never, right?” Ty grinned. He had a pack slung over one shoulder, though the flap was half open and the contents threatened to spill out onto the sand at any moment.

  “Ferris! It's about time you showed up.” Garrison crooked one finger at the latecomer. “Get over here and meet your Aepy. We leave in three minutes.”

  Jack rolled his eyes as Ty bounded off. While Garrison's words had been stern, his tone had been jovial. As usual, nobody seemed to mind Ty's carelessness—or to appreciate the fact that Jack had been there on time.

  He tried not to think about Ty. Three minutes! In just three minutes they would be on their way. His heart pounded a little faster at the thought.

  Jack headed toward One-Toe. One of the caravaners hoisted him onto the saddle, which was sturdy and well padded, with a wooden handhold carved in the shape of a graceful Vulcanodon set into the high pommel over the creature's hump. The saddle also had a built-up cantle to compensate for the Aepycamelus's steeply sloping back. Jack settled into the deepest part of the seat. Despite the fact that he lived with Aepycamelus and interacted with them on a daily basis, he rarely rode them. He hoped his legs wouldn't be too sore by the end of the day. Even if they were, though, he knew it would be worth it.

  One-Toe lumbered to his feet, nearly unseating Jack as he swayed from side to side to bring his long legs under him. Only after the Aepycamelus was fully upright did Jack dare to let go of the handhold long enough to wave good-bye to his parents, who had been helping get the Aepycamelus ready and were now standing with the other villagers seeing them off.

  As One-Toe ambled out from beneath the shelter of the shade canopy, Jack glanced around. He felt a sudden, unexpected pang of premature homesickness for modest little Dribbling Spring. He squinted against the rising sun, taking in the tidy streets lined with low-slung houses, the prized grove of ginkgoes waving in the slight breeze, the brightly painted stucco walls of the water bar, the impressive bulk of the sundial. . . .

  “Woo-hoo!” a loud voice crowed from somewhere just behind Jack. “Let's get out of this dusty little town!”

  Jack frowned, his pensive mood shattered. He glanced around and saw Ty riding a couple of lengths behind him. A moment later the tall boy steered his Aepycamelus up next to One-Toe.

  “Aren't you excited?” he chattered at Jack. “This is going to be so great. Just us, our Aepys, and the open road. Well, the open sand, anyway. I can't wait!”

  Ty seemed so thrilled about the coming journey that Jack couldn't help feeling a little friendlier toward him.

  “I'm looking forward to it, too,” he agreed. Scanning over the endless sea of sand ahead, he added, “I just hope I packed everything I'll need. We're not exactly going to be passing a lot of trading posts on the way.”

  “No kidding.” Ty rolled his eyes. “My parents must have checked my pack a thousand times to make sure I have everything I'll need. When I left this morning, they even made me take an extra root digger.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tool used to unearth certain types of edible roots and bulbs that grew in the desert. It was a four-inch metal rod with a wooden handle. A leather safety cap covered the sharp teeth on the metal end.

  “I told them I already had one in my pack and that I probably wouldn't even need it, since the caravan would be packing plenty of food, but they wouldn't listen.” He pointed at Jack. “Hey!” he added suddenly. “You like plants and stuff, right? Maybe you could use it for collecting samples or something. Here, catch!” Without waiting for a response, he tossed the root digger across the space between their Aepys.

  Jack caught it by the blunt handle. “Thanks,” he said, a little surprised at the other boy's impulsive generosity. He tucked the root digger into his pocket.

  Recalling Cragnog's words from the day before, Jack wondered if perhaps he and Ty might have something in common after all—even if it was only their mutual enthusiasm for this trip. Maybe having the other boy along wouldn't be so terrible. It might even be nice to have someone his own age to talk with. If Ty could only keep his exuberance under control and be serious for a change.

  “Hey, everyone is being so quiet,” Ty commented, glancing up the line as the Aepycamelus moved steadily off to the south, with the rising sun to their left. “How about a little march to get us in the mood? Maybe an old classic like ‘One Step'?”

  “That's a good idea,” Jack agreed cautiously. He wasn't much of a singer or musician, but he always loved hearing the old dinosaur marching song:

  One step begins the journey,

  One step follows the other,

  Another step carries us onward,

  One more step takes us farther.

  Four feet working together,

  Four limbs doing their best,

  All of us doing our duty,

  One first step guides all the rest.

  Ty whistled for attention. “Hey, everyone,” he called loudly. “I've got a song for you.”

  “Let's hear it, boy,” Garrison replied.

  “Right!” another caravaner shouted from somewhere near the end of the line. “But better make it a good one, young fella—otherwise we might dump you right here and leave you for the snakes and desert flies!”

  The others laughed, and Ty grinned. “Okay, here goes.”

  He cleared his throat and sang, his voice loud and strong.

  “One step begins the journey,

  The next step trips on the first,

  The big fall carries me forward,

  And onto my head I do burst.”

  The caravaners roared with laughter. Ty grinned, looking pleased with himself and bowing his head so deeply that he almost tumbled off his Aepycamelus—which only made the others laugh all the more.

  Jack sighed, all hopeful thoughts disappearing. He vowed to do his best to ignore Ty and enjoy himself despite the other boy's goofy, distracting presence.

  As the Aepycamelus moved steadily along in their usual easy, energy-conserving shuffle, Jack started to relax. For the first few miles, the scenery was familiar.

  They passed the edge of an irrigated field of vegetables, the rolling hills of scrubby shrubs and grasses where Jack's parents sometimes sent the Aepycamelus to graze. But an hour or so after they'd passed the craggy bluffs that marked the farthest southwestern boundary of Dribbling Spring, the vista sett
led into a steady expanse of sand, sand, and more sand. Even the distant peaks of the Forbidden Mountains disappeared on the hazy horizon. It was as if the entire world were flat, hot, and dry.

  “Not much to look at out here, is there?” Cragnog commented, ambling up beside One-Toe.

  Jack looked down at his friend and smiled. “Not really,” he agreed. “But I don't mind. It's serene—gives me plenty of time to think.”

  “Well, if you'd rather ponder the infinite grains of sand of the Great Desert than talk with me . . . ,” Cragnog commented teasingly.

  “No!” Jack protested with a smile. “I'd love to talk. We didn't have much of a chance yesterday with all the excitement. You never told me what you were doing in Kuskonak, for instance.”

  “I was there for a botany conference—the topic was natural adaptation, and some of the other speakers were quite fascinating. But the most interesting thing I gained from it was a sample from an interesting conifer. A friend brought it to me from a recent plant-hunting expedition in the Hadro Swamp.”

  “What is it?” Jack asked with interest.

  “An unidentified species of Agathis,” Cragnog replied. “But take a look for yourself—it's at the top of my saddlebag. I think you can reach it if One-Toe will oblige.”

  “One-Toe?” Jack said. “Can you move a little closer, please?”

  The Aepycamelus gave a snort and stepped over until he was only inches from Cragnog's side. By gripping the saddle's handhold and leaning over as far as he could, Jack was just able to reach the flap of the large saddlebag tucked between two of Cragnog's spikes. He reached inside and found a large leaf wrapped in a bit of cloth. Sitting upright again, he unwrapped it carefully.

  “Oops,” he said, immediately starting to wrap it again. “I guess this is the wrong leaf. You said it was a conifer, right?”

  “Correct. But that is the Agathis leaf you're holding,” Cragnog replied.

  “Huh?” Jack stared at the leaf in his hand. It was large and leathery and a medium green in color. “But this doesn't look anything like the needles of most conifers.”

  Cragnog chuckled. “Indeed. Things are not always what they seem—that goes for more than botany, my young friend.”

  Jack examined the leaf curiously. “I would never have known that this is a conifer unless you'd told me,” he admitted. “It looks nothing like a pine or a fir or the other cone-bearing plants I know about.”

  Cragnog nodded. “Then let this be a lesson to you,” he said. “A true scholar must always be open to new knowledge and possibilities—even if it means having his assumptions challenged.”

  Before Jack could figure that out, a cry went up from somewhere farther down the line.

  “Oasis!”

  CHAPTER 5

  “An oasis?” Jack cried, his mind instantly conjuring up every grand old tale of the Great Oasis he'd heard caravaners spin in the Dribbling Spring Water Bar over the years. It was said that every species of plant on Dinotopia grew there; that fabulous jewels sparkled in its rich, dark soil; that just a few glistening drops from its bottomless spring would make old men young and foolish ones wise.

  What if their caravan discovered the legendary spot? They would be famous! Surely Jack would be asked to write scrolls on the discovery, travel to Waterfall City and Sauropolis to give lectures. . . .

  “Very funny, Tall-Tale Ty,” one of the caravaners shouted with a hearty laugh. “You actually made me look!”

  “Gotcha!” Ty crowed.

  For a second Jack wasn't sure what was going on. Then, as he scanned the horizon and saw nothing but sand and sky, the desert landscape as dry and featureless as ever, he realized the truth. There was no oasis. It was just another one of Ty's silly jokes.

  Glancing at Ty, he saw that the other boy was grinning broadly as he pointed toward the ground at his Aepycamelus's feet. Jack saw that Ty had spilled a few drops of water from his canteen onto the dry sand to create his so-called oasis.

  Not only does he waste our time with his antics, he wastes water as well, Jack thought irritably, automatically reaching down to make sure his own canteen was lashed safely to his belt. He should know better—on both counts.

  “Doesn't he ever stop to think about the foolish things he does? He should know enough to realize that water is too valuable to waste in the desert,” Jack muttered under his breath, wiping a bead of sweat from his chin.

  “This caravan carries more than sufficient supplies for a trip of this length,” Cragnog said calmly. “A few drops will not be missed, and laughter eases the journey for many.”

  Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly. He hadn't intended to be overheard. Still, he couldn't believe Cragnog was taking Ty's side. Was Jack himself the only one who saw how childishly Ty was acting?

  As Cragnog made his way forward in the line to talk to Luna, Jack slumped into One-Toe's saddle. I shouldn't be wasting my time worrying about Ty, he chided himself. Being in this caravan is the most exciting thing that's happened to me since that trip when I was seven. Maybe Ty isn't taking it as seriously as he should, but that doesn't mean I have to let him ruin my—

  Brrrrrreeeeep!

  A loud chirp rang out, almost directly in Jack's ear, startling him so that he nearly toppled out of the saddle. He spun around and saw Ty grinning at him as he steered his own Aepycamelus at One-Toe's flank.

  “What are you doing?” Jack snapped, flustered by the unexpected interruption.

  Ty shrugged. “Just practicing my Ichthyornis imitation,” he joked. “Did you like it? Oh, and what about my oasis joke? Did you see the way Garrison and Humphreys started looking around for trees on the horizon? Pretty funny, huh?”

  “No,” Jack replied bluntly, too annoyed to be tactful. “It wasn't funny, actually. It was silly and immature.”

  Ty rolled his eyes. “Pardon me, Sir Mature,” he said. “I guess I should be more like you and just think important thoughts all the time while sitting up straight and looking dead ahead.” He hunched his shoulders and pasted a grumpy expression on his face, staring straight between his mount's ears.

  Jack flushed at the unflattering imitation. “I don't act like that,” he said. “But I do appreciate this opportunity to learn from the experienced caravaners on this trip. ‘Observe, listen, and learn,' remember?” he added, quoting the Code of Dinotopia, which everyone born on the island learned as children. “Maybe that means I don't have time to think up stupid pranks and goof off all day, but that's okay with me.”

  “Oh, loosen up,” Ty scoffed. “There's nothing in the Code of Dinotopia about being miserable all the time. We are allowed to have fun, you know.”

  Jack blinked in surprise. “But I am having fun,” he protested, glancing around at the Aepycamelus ahead and behind, the human and saurian caravaners, the gently rolling waves of sand, the bright sunlight casting its bleached glare over everything. “That's what I'm saying. You would enjoy yourself a lot more if you forgot the jokes and pranks and let yourself learn something new.”

  Ty's blue eyes widened with sincere amazement. “Oh!” he exclaimed, smacking himself on the forehead. “I get it.”

  “Get what?” Jack asked suspiciously.

  “Get you,” Ty replied. “See, this is why the other kids think you're such a rolled-up scroll most of the time. You really do think that stuff is fun, don't you? Learning, and reading, and studying, and being serious all the time? Looking at dried-up old leaves and talking about rocks and stars and such? You actually like that stuff, don't you?”

  Jack scowled at the other boy. He wasn't a Tyrannosaurus rex who didn't like meat, for criminy's sake. It wasn't so strange for someone to enjoy learning—was it? Maybe if one's whole life revolved around Ty-ball . . .

  “Do you have a problem with that?” Jack snapped, fed up with the whole conversation. “Maybe you should try it yourself sometime. It might give you something to think about other than who you're going to tease next.”

  Rather than looking insulted as Jack expec
ted, Ty merely shook his head. “Maybe I should,” he said. “But maybe you should try thinking a little less and laughing a little more. You might like it.”

  Jack scowled and tapped One-Toe on the shoulder to ask him to speed up. The Aepycamelus left Ty's mount behind and soon caught up with Cragnog and Luna, who were walking side by side near the front of the line.

  “Ah, there's the young whippersnapper,” Luna exclaimed when she noticed Jack's approach. “Had enough of the desert yet, boy?”

  “Not yet,” Jack replied gamely. “This trip is very interesting so far.”

  “Good, good. However, you may also be interested in checking your headscarf if you value the tip of your nose.” Luna shrugged her massive, sloping shoulders. “Of course, I've never much cared for most humans' noses myself. Burning it off just might improve your appearance.”

  Jack hadn't even noticed that the shade cloth he wore on his head had slipped back, exposing his nose to the full strength of the midmorning sun. He quickly tugged it back into place.

  “Thank you,” he told Luna sincerely. “My nose may not be much to look at, but I like it the way it is.”

  Cragnog chuckled. “The sun is a friend to most of the island, but here in the desert it can also be an enemy,” he commented.

  Jack nodded. Like everyone who grew up in the Great Desert, he knew the cardinal rules for surviving there: Water is life. Too much sun can kill. Distances can deceive. Keep an eye to the horizon.

  Luna scanned the horizon to the right. “What was that?” she asked abruptly.

  “It's no use looking for the Great Oasis, my ancient friend,” Cragnog teased her. “We've already had one sighting this hour, remember?”

  “Not the Oasis, you spiky-backed skeptic,” Luna replied. “I thought I saw a flurry over there. And I've had quite enough of those sandstorms on our way from Kuskonak.”

  “We are in full agreement there,” Cragnog admitted, turning to look where his friend was gazing. “However, I don't think that's a sandstorm. There is a small outcropping in that direction that is visible on very clear days such as this.”