Dad's Story

 

“I was about eight years old. I got a real high fever. It was so high; I would get Night Terrors. I would roll around in my bed, screaming that bugs were crawling all over me. I would point to the walls and say that they were coming down to get me.

               “My Mother tried to get me to drink, but I wouldn’t. I even knocked the cup out of her hand once. It shattered on the floor. When the doctor finally got there, he found that I wasn’t going to die, but I was going to be like this for a while, until the fever broke. I am sure this was no comfort for my parents.

               “My Mother did her best to try to settle me. Often, she cradled me on her lap until I fell asleep. My Father would take me and lay me on my bed. Sometimes, I’d sleep for an hour or two. Sometimes, it would be a lot less.

               “One night, I awoke and could swear the bed was moving. I looked down and found that my bed had become a huge spider. I was sitting on its back and it was carrying me away. The door frame even seemed to widen to allow the monster an easier path to run off with me. I tried to call for help, but my throat was too dry. I was sure that this beast was going to take me away and eat me!

               “I hopped off my bed and ran out the door. Every couple of steps, I would look back to see if the spider was following me. It was! I ran as fast as I could! Finally, I reached the front door. I pulled it open and flew across the porch. I headed for the woods that bordered our house, hoping I could lose the monster there. It was somewhere out there that I passed out.”

               Hanna’s Father looked over at the Iggie.

               “I guess this is where I take over the story,” Trotter said. “I was walking through the woods, looking for some food. I was sniffing around as usual when I caught the scent of something odd. It didn’t smell like any fern. As a matter of fact, it was something totally new for me. I followed the smell. It got stronger as I moved along. It also got more uninviting. Whatever it was, it was not food.

               “Finally, the smell became unbearable. I figured I was getting close. And I was right. There, in the underbrush was a hatchling. I stared at it for a moment. I have never seen one up close before. I had never smelled one either. What a stench!”

               “Hey!” said Hanna’s Father. “I had a horrible fever. I was sweating like a charging Trike!”

               Hanna and her Mother laughed, as did the three Flyers, Spring and Trotter.

               “Anyway, I stared at the hatchling for a few minutes, waiting for it to move. But it didn’t budge. It was against my better judgement; I bent over and lifted the hatchling. It was so hot. Some of our eggs are not that hot. I knew that humans are not supposed to feel like that. I picked up the small one and walked back into the woods with him. I headed to a pond I visited frequently. It was very cool, right for making the hatchling more comfortable.

               “It didn’t take long to get there. I was lucky that the hatchling was so still and quiet. I held him in my arms and walked slowly into the pond. It was cool, as always. I walked until I was about three-quarters into the water, just the right spot. I lowered the hatchling into the water with just his nose above the surface. I figured it wouldn’t take too long before his fever would go down.

               “Sure enough, the human began to stir. To check him, I licked his face. He was cooler. And I had firsthand proof that humans taste awful.”

               Another laugh ran through those listening to the story. Hanna’s Father continued.

               “I opened my eyes and saw this dinosaur’s face looking at me. I should have been scared but I was just too tired. All I could do was to raise my hand and rub its cheek. I thanked the creature and fell asleep again.”

               “I carried the sleeping hatchling back to shore and found a comfortable place for the two of us to get some rest. I laid the human on the ground and circled myself around him. The two of us slept.”

               “When I opened my eyes, it was day. I really didn’t know where I was. I looked around me and could only see a dinosaur surrounding me. It protected me while I was asleep. I felt better. I wasn’t hot and there were no more bugs. I saw that the dinosaur was awake.”

               “The hatchling smiled at me and patted me on the nose. I really expected him to scream and cry and generally be afraid. But he was calm and obviously grateful for what I had done. I had never met a human before. I hoped they were all like this one.”

               “I tried to stand up, and I did, almost. I think I fell against the side of Trotter. I felt my knees give out. Even though the fever was gone, it had taken its toll. Before I could try again, I felt the dinosaur grab my arm in its mouth.”

               Trotter stuck her tongue out.

               “Yuck,” she said.

               There was laughter again. Hanna’s Father ignored the comment.

               “She lifted me up, turned her head and deposited me on her back. Next thing I knew, I was riding through the woods on the back of a dinosaur! I was having the time of my life!”

               “I couldn’t run as fast as I wanted to because the hatchling wasn’t strong enough to hang on. So, I just trotted along. Mostly, I was trying to get him home. Fortunately, his smell still left a trail. I just followed back to his dwelling.”

               “She stopped at the edge of the woods near my house and laid down. I knew the ride was over. I was extremely disappointed. I slid off her side and managed to stay on my feet. I gave her a big hug. Then, I went home. I turned to look back and see the dinosaur again. But she was gone.

               “My parents welcomed me back with open arms. They said they searched all over and couldn’t find me. I told them I was safe and that a dinosaur saved me. All they did was stare at each other and shake their heads. They thought the fever was worse than even the doctor believed. My Mother hugged me and said she didn’t care what saved me, she was glad I was home.

               “I looked back at the woods after she let me go. There was still no sign of Trotter.”

               “I had headed off. I couldn’t take the chance that an Older would find me.”

               “I spent the next couple of months under my parents’ watchful eyes. I didn’t go far. Most times, I sat on the porch. My Mother made a deal with the teacher and all my classwork was sent home. Somehow, I managed to keep up with my studies.

               “One Fall day, my parents had to go into town to run some errands. They were going to be gone for a few hours. They asked me if I would be fine on my own now. I guess they finally figured I was not going to come down with the fever again. Of course, I said Yes. I really couldn’t wait for them to leave. Now, understand, this was a sign that I was well in their eyes. It meant that I was likely going back to school. It also meant that I would see my friends again. I watched as they left. Soon, they disappeared. I was happy. I sat out on the porch and just enjoyed the day.”

               “I should say that I had checked on the hatchling’s house quite often. I was good at not being seen, as my color helped me blend into the woods around his home. It wasn’t often that anyone came out of that house. But that day was interesting. I had not expected to see the two Olders leave the house without their child. But they did! I watched them go. Then, their hatchling came outside and sat in a chair, just smiling. I could see that he was well. It was time to have some fun.”

               “For once, I was looking in the right place. I saw Trotter step out of the woods. I just leapt off the porch and ran toward her. I wrapped my arms around her the best I could and hugged her as tightly as my strength allowed. She returned the hug. Boy, she was strong. She squeezed all the air out of me! But I didn’t care.”

               “After we hugged, I thought it was time that this hatchling knew what fun was to one of my kind. I laid down. Without the slightest hesitation, the hatchling pulled himself on my back. I stood up and gave a look back at the boy. He smiled and nodded. I started slowly, just to see what he would do. He was relaxed. I began to move faster. I heard a laugh from the hatchling. Faster and faster I went. All I could hear were sounds of joy from the child.”

               “It was the best. Trotter moved so quickly. I didn’t even think I would fall off. I just laughed and hollered, hoping that she could go even faster.”

               “And, I did!”

               “I don’t know how long we were running around. All I know is that I never had a better time. We ended up on the road to town. We didn’t get far when Trotter slid to a stop. I nearly went over her head onto the road. Thankfully, she had raised herself up and was sniffing the air. That blocked my fall. I heard a conversation heading in our direction. It shook me! It was my Mother talking to my Father! I told Trotter we had to get home as fast as possible! Before I could get all the words out, Trotter had already turned and began running away from them!”

               “I knew that his parents finding us would mean big trouble! A dinosaur kidnapping a hatchling! Think of it! It surely wouldn’t end well for me! I began to run as fast as I could. I figured I could get the child back to his home before his Olders got there. But I would have to break all kinds of dinosaur speed records.”

               “It was a wild ride! Once or twice I nearly lost my seat! Somehow, I always managed to stay on. I was surprised at how quickly she got me home. She walked over to the side of the house and I jumped from her back to the porch. She turned and looked at me. I grabbed her and hugged her tight. I thanked her for everything. Trotter hugged me back. Then, she turned and headed to the woods. I watched her disappear among the trees and bushes. My parents came home shortly after that. They asked how my day had been. I lied, telling them that it was boring and asked if I could go back to school now. They agreed. That night, after I went to bed, I cried. I was going to miss Trotter.”

 

 

 

After the Lightning: The Council of Trikes

 

Chapter One

The sky rumbled, ready to open and unleashed whatever it could upon the world below. Christopher was caught in his share of storms, but this one could be the worst. The sky looked more threatening than it ever had. He searched all day for a place to shelter. Coming down the road, he saw a barn. A drop of rain hit his shoulder. He sprinted as more water fell. A bolt of lightning tore through the sky. The rain became steadier. The storm of May 1879 would be historic.

               What was once dirt and dust became mud. It would soon be ready to cause havoc for the traveler. Christopher nearly slipped. The barn door was in sight. Christopher hoped it wasn’t locked. The raindrops formed sheets, ready to curl around him.

               Christopher grabbed the handle. A hope flashed through his mind. He pulled and the door opened, allowing him to slip inside. The rain pounded its anger on the roof having lost another victim. Christopher had a dry place to spend the night.  

In the morning, after a dry but restless sleep, the boy heard laughter outside. The last time Christopher woke to laughing was during his time at the orphanage. He found his hand in a bowl of warm water. Some of the other boys had gathered around to watch his reaction.

               It would be the last time anyone played a joke on him at that place.

               Peeking out of the barn, he looked around. He didn’t see anyone. Christopher stepped outside. He could still hear laughing and some talking. It came from above him.

               Before Christopher could look up, a rock fell next to him. He jumped, startled by the stone. The laughter became louder. He looked skyward to see three flying reptiles, or Flyers, as humans call them. They circled and laughed louder, probably at the expression on the boy’s face.

               “Goodbye!” they called, then flying off.

               Flyers don’t talk, Christopher thought. They don’t laugh either.

               He watched the trio disappear into the distance. The poor night’s sleep he had went with them. The boy noticed that the rock had splattered mud on the side of his pants. The storm had left numerous puddles, but the blue sky made no mention of the night before.

               “I’m sure the road will be a mess,” Christopher muttered. He sighed, thinking about the mud that likely awaited his feet in the coming hours.

               Another sound found its way to his ears. It might resemble the noise made by a small T-Rex hiding under a blanket. Of course, finding a T-Rex of any size under a blanket would be rare, but one could imagine it’s sound. Christopher travelled with this sound often. His stomach was empty. Lately, empty became the normal. Its displeasure at not being even half-full was constant.

               “I know,” he said.

               He looked around, hoping to find something he could eat. He had slipped into the barn in the evening when it was quiet. No one caught him. When the storm hit and his safety was insured, he did his best to sleep. Now, in the sunlight, he had nowhere to hide. He had to be careful.

               “Hey! You!” came a yell.

               Caught again, he thought.

               “You’re trespassing!” The huge, bearded man stood before him. Christopher had been in this situation before.

               “I’m lost.”

               The man eyed him. “You’re lying.”

               “I…”

               Before another word could be said, the man grabbed his arm and marched him away from the barn. In a few uncomfortable minutes, Christopher was dragged into a farmhouse and presented to another man, whose beard covered more of his face than the other’s. He sipped a cup of coffee.

               “Found this one in Barn Seven, Mr. McGruder.”

               McGruder looked Christopher over. “Kinda scrawny, aren’t you? What’s your name?”

               “Christopher, sir.”

               “So, Christopher. You spent the night in Barn Seven?”

               “I didn’t know it was Barn Seven. But, yes, I did”

               Mr. McGruder stroked his beard. “How much should I charge you for room and board?”

               Christopher thought for a minute.

               “Well, not a lot. I really only had room.”

               Mr. McGruder couldn’t help but grin.

               “Tell you what. I have apple pickers out in the orchard. You work with them all day and I’ll consider things even. And that includes all the apples you can eat.”

               The Rex in Christopher’s stomach gave a happy growl.

               “You have a deal!”

               The two chuckled and shook hands.

               “Mr. James, will you lead Christopher to the trees?”

               “Certainly.”

 

               The two soon arrived at a grove of trees, all dotted in red. Near the trees were several large bins, all waiting to be filled.

               “Can you climb?” Mr. James asked.

               “Sure!”

               “Okay. You climb a tree, pick the apples, and drop them into the bins.”

               “That seems easy enough.”

               “Just don’t eat too many apples. The branches can only hold so much weight.” He smiled.

               “I’ll do my best, sir.”

               Mr. James pulled one of the bins close to the tree. Christopher took off his shoes and began to climb. The branches were big enough to support the boy. He plucked a few apples from the branches above him and dropped them into the bin below.

               “Looks like you’ve got the hang of this,” Mr. James said. “I’m going to go and check on the others. Come get me when the bin is full.”

               “Okay.”

               As Mr. James left, Christopher’s stomach again voiced its emptiness.

               “I know.”

               Reaching up, he grabbed an apple. He rubbed a shine on it with is shirt. The first bite of anything when you’ve been hungry is always the best. There are no exceptions. Christopher chewed the mouthful into mush, allowing the juice to delight his throat and stomach.

               The second apple tasted almost as good as the first, but not quite like the third, the fourth and the fifth. After that, he returned to dropping apples in the bin. His stomach no longer seemed to mind.

               Christopher filled the bin in a short time. The tree, however, didn’t look any less of apples. He bit into another apple and stuffed a couple in his pockets.

               He climbed down from his perch and headed off in Mr. James’ direction. He didn’t find anyone. He did find several empty bins. Christopher grabbed one and dragged it back to his tree.

               “It’s only fair.”

               Setting the bin in place, Christopher once more climbed the tree and started picking. As more apples were dropped into the bin, the boy’s mind began to wander. He didn’t hear anyone else working. He wondered why Mr. James hadn’t come by to check on him.

               As the second bin became full, the quiet ended. Something stomped. Something big. Something getting nearer. Christopher climbed around the other side of the tree to see. As he did, the tree shook. The Something pushed against it. He looked down to see spikes and a frill. They were bobbing into one of the bins he had filled. Christopher also heard crunching.

               Although he’s never been close to one, he knew that it was a Triceratops, or Trike, as most people call them. It busily ate the apples he had picked. It also bumped the tree. As it got deeper into the bin, it jostled the tree, and Christopher, more. The Trike focused on nothing but the apples. In its attempts to get the last apples, the dinosaur hit the tree with the force of an earthquake. Apples fell from the tree, as did Christopher.

               The boy’s mind flashed a picture of pain and broken bones landing on the ground would entail. But he stopped only a couple of feet from the branch he fell from. He felt the ground where he landed. It was smoother than he thought it would be.

               “Hey! Are you a really large apple?” came a voice.

               The ground talked.

               “I’m not,” replied Christopher. “I’m a boy.”

               “Well, that’s different. I can’t eat you. But feel free to stay there while I finish eating.”

               Everything moved again. Christopher realized he was on the back of the Trike. And, it had talked! It now moved to the second bin and started eating.

               “I just filled that!”

               “And I thank you. The apples are delicious.”

               “But they aren’t your apples.”

               “I see. So, they aren’t here for anyone to eat?”

               “No. They belong to Mr. McGruder!”

               “Are you Mr. McGruder?”

               “No. I’m Christopher. I’m working here.”

               “Nice to meet you Christopher. My name is Crash.”

               “Crash? I guess that fits. You seem more like a Charge, though.”

               “I wanted to be called Charge, but someone else got that name first.”

               Christopher chuckled. The Trike cleared his throat.

               “Are you comfortable up there?”

               Christopher shuttered a little. He suddenly remembered all the stories about people who tried to tame Trikes. They usually ended with someone being trampled.

               “I…”

               “If you are, you can stay up there. I don’t mind.”

               Christopher smiled. “Do you mean it?”

               “Why not? You did fill those bins.”

               Christopher gave Crash’s back a rub.

               “Thank you.”

               There was a yell.

               “There he is!”

               Christopher looked to see Mr. McGruder, leading a group of men, or Olders, as they are called by most dinosaurs. They were carrying rakes, shovels, and brooms.

               “That’s the one eating our apples!” someone hollered.

               Mr. McGruder looked up at Christopher.

               “You’d better get down from there before he hurts you.”

               “I would never hurt a hatchling!” said Crash. “It’s just not done!”

               Everyone stopped, gaping at the Trike. Christopher smiled.

               “I know. It’s a bit scary at first.”

               “You talk?” Mr. McGruder asked.

               “Since the other night. Right after the storm.”

               The farmer shook his head, trying to make sense of it. He looked Crash in the eye.

               “Never mind that. What about my apples?”

               Christopher looked around. The ground had lots of red dots on it.

               “You know, if Crash bumped your trees, I’ll bet it brings down most of the apples. Would that make up for Crash’s appetite?”

               Mr. McGruder rubbed his beard. He nodded.

               “Let’s see if that works,” he said.

               For the next several hours, apples fell from the trees, as Crash’s bumping the trees did most of the work. Christopher sat atop the Trike, directing him through the orchard. The Olders followed, picking up the displaced fruit and filling bin after bin. The harvest never went this fast, or this easily.

               As dusk set in, most of the trees were without fruit. Mr. McGruder and the Olders were pleased with Crash’s work. They pulled a bin over for the Trike. Christopher slid down and joined the others for vegetable stew and apple cake.

               At the end of the meal, Christopher rejoined Crash.

               “That was fun. Thank you.”

               “It was! What do you want to do tomorrow?”

               Christopher hadn’t thought about that. Mr. McGruder came over and told Crash he could sleep in Barn Seven tonight, if he wanted. He told Christopher that he had room in the bunkhouse with the rest of the workers. The boy looked at Crash.

               “Would it be alright if I slept in Barn Seven too?”

               Mr. McGruder nodded. Crash knelt, allowing Christopher to climb on. The two said Good Night and headed off for a much-needed sleep.