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The Phone Call Alan Grant was startled awake by the familiar, obnoxious buzzing of his alarm clock. He bolted upright and slapped the off button before falling back onto his pillows and sighing. Low groans escaped his throat as he stretched and forced himself to sit up. He turned his eyes toward the clock, which now said 6:33 A.M. The RV was silent and, despite a tiny sliver of light penetrating the window curtains, it was still dark enough that Grant needed to turn on the light so he could see. It was also brisk inside the camper. No surprise to Grant, though; winter had just turned to spring in the Snakewater badlands. In Grant’s opinion, it was the perfect time of year for digging fossils; not too hot, not too cold; all in all, this season meant perfect weather conditions for being on your hands and knees all day long.Minus, of course, the occasional monsoon.But the rain has its purpose, Grant thought as he slid out of his pajamas. Wash away layers of sediment and save us some work. But there’s still the danger of the fossils becoming too much exposed before we get them into plaster. Then we have a problem.Grant refreshed himself by brushing his teeth, giving his face a quick shave, and spraying himself with deodorant. He picked out a white henley, a pair of dark brown khaki pants, a green flannel with indigo and black stripes, and his favorite Timberlands. As soon as he was dressed and had rolled the flannel sleeves hallway up, he opened the main storage closet and found his watch, belt, pouches, sunglasses, and hat. He strapped on the belt and watch, set his hat and glasses on a nearby counter, and then proceeded to start the coffee maker.Grant opened the curtains of the window above the kitchen sink. The sun was still rising, slightly obscured by the distant plateaus and mountains. It pierced through the window, glistening the morning dew on the plexiglass and causing Grant to squint. A minute breeze sent plumes of dust flying into the air and caused a small tumbleweed to roll toward the mobile lab which rested a couple hundred feet from Grant’s camper. The sky was a brilliant blue, spotted with a few white clouds. Beyond all this desert serenity, however, there was not a soul outside, not even a bird. He watched as the wind flapped the walls of a tent pitched near another trailer, the one he liked to call the Food Truck. Grant became certain that it was only a matter of minutes before the students and volunteers who had decided to camp out at the dig site would be getting up.The coffee maker buzzed, snapping Grant out of his trance. He turned away from the window and peered into an adjacent cupboard. It was bare, except for a stack of red plastic cups.“Hmm,” Granted muttered to himself. I guess the mugs are in the dishwasher then.They were, and thank God they were clean; Grant was too sleepy to remember if he’d started the dishwasher the night before; and, quite frankly, there was no way in hell he felt like washing dishes at this time of the morning, even for a cup of coffee. He pulled out his favorite mug—the one with the University of Denver logo on it—and filled it almost to the brim, leaving just enough room for cream and sugar. Once he’d sweetened the coffee to his heart’s content, Grant stood in front of the window once again. A few people were finally up. Still in their pajamas, but at least they were up. Even though the window was closed, Grant could still hear their shoes grinding against the barren earth as they made their way to the Food Truck.Wonder what’s on the menu today, Grant thought as he sipped his coffee.He didn’t have an appetite right then and there, but he was sure he might work up one sooner or later. He donned his hat and sunglasses and opened the door of the RV. Even with his shades on, he still had to briefly shield his eyes with his hand as the sunlight shone brightly. Right hand holding the mug, left gripping the thin black railing, Grant cautiously descended the camper’s stairs. The cool morning air engulfed his face and filled his lungs. The warmth of the sun penetrating the skin on his arms, face, and neck, he set both feet on the ground and then let the door slam shut behind him. He raised the mug to his lips and nearly spilled some of the hot coffee onto his hand when the shrill ringing of the telephone suddenly sounded through the interior of the camper, completely disintegrating the radiant morning atmosphere that he’d been savoring.
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The Favor Dr. Grant rolled his eyes and irritably climbed back up the camper’s stairs. The phone rang again, seemingly louder and more ear-splitting than the initial ring.Seriously, Grant fumed. Who’s calling at this time of the morning? “Alright! Alright! Alright! I’m coming!” he shouted, picking up the earpiece. “Hello?”“G’morning,” said an old man’s voice on the other end. “Is Dr. Grant available?”“This is Grant speaking.”“Dr. Grant!” came the jubilant reply. “How’re you doing today?”Grant yawned. “Uh, may I ask who’s calling?”“It’s me, John Hammond, head of the Hammond Foundation. How’s the fifty-thousand treating you so far?”“Amazing,” Grant perked up. “In fact, we just dug up a new skeleton. We finally got our first carnivore after digging up hadrosaurs all these years—"Hammond interrupted, “Sorry if I woke you up so early, Dr. Grant, but, I’m in a bit of situation and could really use your help if it’s not too much to ask.”“What can I do for you, Mr. Hammond?” Grant asked, anxious about what the old man could possibly have in store.“So, here’s the situation,” Hammond explained. “I have two grandchildren, Lex and Tim. Very fine kids, there’s no doubt about that. They’re at my estate a lot. It’s kind of a second home to them.”“Okay, but what does that have to do with me?” Grant inquired.Hammond ignored the question and continued, “We’re setting up a new headquarters for the Foundation not far away from Snakewater. The board of directors and trustees have a huge meeting today and I simply can’t miss it.”“Okay,” Grant answered, still having no idea where this was going.“The problem is that I simply can’t take Lex and Tim with me,” Hammond went on. “They’re not old enough to stay home alone and their parents have been out of town all weekend. They were supposed to have been here yesterday but their plane got delayed. They should be landing at Choteau sometime today but I’m not sure when.”Grant nodded silently.“Okay,” Hammond said conclusively. “This is the big favor I need to ask you, Dr. Grant.”Suddenly the realization dawned on Grant, and an even greater sense of annoyance weighed down upon his heart, sending it sinking a little into his airway.“Are you saying…?”“Yes, Dr. Grant,” Hammond said. “I need you to look after Lex and Tim while I’m at the meeting. There’s no one else available. The Mister and Missus will pick them up tonight after their plane arrives in Choteau.”Kids, Grant put a palm to his face. Why did it have to be kids?! A small handful of his fellow students had kids. Little kids. Grant couldn’t stand them. They didn’t always show up with their parents to the dig site; but on the rare occasions that they did, all the screaming and crying and running around made it nearly impossible for Grant to concentrate on his work. Plus, what did kids know about the value of fossils anyway?I am not a frickin’ babysitter! Grant clenched his teeth.Hammond went on, “I know this is a huge favor to ask you, Dr. Grant, and I’m sorry it’s so last second, but it would mean the world to me if you looked after them just this once.”Grant took a deep breath, fighting to hide his irritation. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m busy enough as it is—”Hammond was oblivious to Grant’s reaction. “And I’m willing compensate you generously, by fully funding your dig for the remainder of this year plus an extra five-hundred dollars of pocket money just for you.”Hmm, Grant thought. That was some pretty good money, but would it really be worth it?There was a brief silence, and then, “Please, Dr. Grant? Just this once? I promise I’ll make it worth your while, and Lex and Tim won’t be of any trouble for you.”Grant sighed, trying to keep the money at the front of his mind. Hesitantly, he responded, “Oh, alright. Just this once.”Grant couldn’t see Hammond’s face, but he had the sense that the old man was grinning from ear to ear.“Thank you! Thank you so much!” came the exclamation from the other line. “I’m so glad you could help, Dr. Grant. This means a lot more to me than you realize. The children and I will be arriving in about two to three hours. Once the mister and missus have landed, I’ll give ‘em a call and then we’ll come and pick up the kids as soon as we can.”“Alright,” Grant said. “I’ll see you in a little while.”“You, too,” Hammond replied. “And thank you again, Dr. Grant. You’re the best!”“Uh-huh,” Grant responded, feeling a little sheepish as he hung up the phone.That’s great. That’s JUST great! He slammed his forehead into a nearby wall. Sighing again, he tried to reassure himself. This money better be good or so help me…His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knocking on the camper door.“Dr. Grant?” It was Richard Brennan, the dig site’s primary technician.“Come in,” Grant said.“Everything okay in here?” asked Brennan as he entered.“Everything’s fine,” Dr. Grant answered with a poker face.Brennan raised a brow. “You don’t look okay, Alan. What happened?”Grant exhaled hastily through his nostrils. “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine.”He stepped out of the RV, with Brennan trailing behind him, and the two men made their way toward the Food Truck.Everything was not fine, Brennan knew.
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The Arrival The mouthwatering smell of sizzling ham and scrambled eggs coming from the Food Truck permeated the air, but Dr. Grant hardly gave it a notice. He trudged across the parched ground, his boots grinding in the dirt. He could sense Richard Brennan’s curious eyes scanning him, wanting to know what on earth had happened in the camper to leave Dr. Alan Grant in such a sour mood.Brennan hoped that Dr. Grant would feel better after a bite to eat. He perceived Grant to be polite but firm; the kind of person who, like many folks who were the top minds in their respective fields, had a healthy level of sternness and rarely needed to demand respect from his colleagues and students; so, whatever had happened in the camper must have been quite bad to leave Grant so pissed off.Brennan anticipated the answer he’d get from Grant but decided to try one last time anyway.“Alan, are you sure you’re alright? What happened in the trailer?”Grant started walking faster. “I told you, don’t worry about it!” he snapped with a raise of his voice.“Alright,” Brennan responded quietly.Grant stared at the silver serving bowls of food, hesitant about what to serve himself. He gestured other people to go ahead of him in the line while he made up his mind what about would go on his plate. After a few minutes, he felt the first growl in his stomach since he’d first woken up and opted for a scoop of eggs and a medium-sized piece of ham. He then walked back to his camper, where his cup of coffee resided on the table where he’d left it after the phone call. He set his plate alongside the mug and sought the toaster and English muffins. Once they’d been located and the muffins lowered, he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter and cupped his face into his hands.Grant stared off into space, wishing that his top colleague and paleobotanist, Dr. Ellie Sattler, were here. If there was ever a time when he needed her, it was now. Ellie was naturally better with kids; all the women Grant had known in his life were better at handling children than him. Unfortunately for Grant, Ellie wouldn’t be back in Montana for another week and a half; she was in Colorado on vacation with her family, a vacation she’d planned for over a month and deserved all too well. Ellie had shown outstanding dedication to the field of paleontology and to Grant’s dig site since she’d been an undergrad five years ago, and there was no way Grant was going to stop her from spending this much-needed, much-deserved time with her family. Even so, Grant wondered, why couldn’t Hammond have scheduled his meeting and leaving his grandkids at the dig site during a time when Ellie was still around? Why did he have to deal with crazy, screaming, hyperenergetic kids?The toaster snapped, and with it Dr. Grant out of his trance. He gripped the muffins with tongs and sat down to eat. His coffee had cooled off quite a bit, but he drank the rest of it nonetheless. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax; he had at least two hours before Hammond and the kids would arrive, so he had a little time to plan. Maybe some of the other dig site volunteers had toys and games that they could play with—away from his spot. He also remembered that he had a TV and small couch in his trailer, so that could keep them busy as well. But what movies did he have that kids could enjoy? Grant was still too drowsy to remember all the titles of the VHS tapes available. Even so, he hoped there was something that the kids could enjoy, something that wasn’t R-rated or PG-13.Who knows? Maybe they’ll fall asleep before their parents return and I can get some peace and quiet, Grant thought to himself.As soon as he finished his meal, Grant rinsed his plate, mug, and silverware before rejoining the others outside. He flinched a little when he heard the sound of tires grinding in dirt. Were Hammond and the kids already here, much sooner than Grant had anticipated? To his relief, though, he recognized the familiar black SUV of a small handful of his students who were carpooling. As the utility vehicle sought a place to park, Grant realized that he hadn’t asked how old Hammond’s grandchildren were, but he was certain they weren’t little. They had to be mature enough to be left with “strangers”, otherwise Hammond wouldn’t have trusted him with them. Yes, they had to at least be in elementary school, not as young as kindergarten, but maybe first or second grade at the youngest. If this was the case, then maybe they’d be easier to handle than Grant thought.Maybe Hammond was speaking the truth when he said they won’t be any trouble, Grant pondered. Then again, even school-age children can be a piece of work. His next realization was he didn’t know what kind of vehicle Hammond and the kids would be arriving in, so how could he anticipate their arrival without false alarms from the sounds of motors and tire treads?Dammit! He frowned. I can’t call him now. Surely, he must be on his way by now. Even if he has a car phone, I don’t have the number for it. Oh well. It’d be at least two hours before Hammond and his grandkids showed up, and Grant had a long list of things to do about his newly uncovered carnivore. Two days earlier, only a tiny section of the jawbone had come to light. Just from the shape of the teeth, Grant had been able to classify it as a predatorial dinosaur. Even so, there were a lot of questions that were unanswered. What species was it? Could it be something entirely new, previously unidentified in the fossil record? Was it a juvenile, a baby? Was it solitary or a pack hunter? Excitement and anticipation swelled inside of Grant as he pushed his sunglasses into place and made his way to the spot.Several people were already kneeling and sweeping sediment away from the bones when Grant found a place to position himself. He gripped a dental pick and toothbrush in his hands and, slowly but surely, a sharp claw became visible on the surface of the earth. He plastered the claw with rubber cement, reminding his team members to do the same with the fossils they were brushing, otherwise exposure to the air would damage the valuable discovery. Hand-sized bowls of plaster were passed around from person to person, and the delicate bones were painted with it at the same rate the sediment was swept off them.It was easy for Grant to lose track of the time despite having his watch on his wrist. In fact, once in the zone, he was practically hypnotized by the marked-off square of earth in front of him, and time seemed to stop. It took a parched throat and outstanding thirst to bring him back to real time. He got up on his knees, dusted himself off, and stretched. By this time, the entire claw was plastered and protected, and a femur was beginning to surface. He was still not yet able to identify the species of the carnivore, but he and the team had done enough excavation to suppose that the extinct animal had to at least have been a juvenile when it died millions of years ago.“I’m going to get some water and I’ll be right back,” Grant told his colleagues.“Okay,” a young man replied.A lady suddenly spoke up. “Oh! Dr. Grant, when you get back, I’m not sure I’m doing this right.”Grant forgot about his thirst for a moment, came over to her and inquired, “What do you mean you’re not sure you’re doing this right?”She answered, “I’m not sure what needs to be plastered. I just hope I haven’t plastered anything that’s not important.”Grant peered over her section of earth. “Hmm…have you plastered anything that’s rough?” he asked.“I don’t think so,” the woman replied, shaking her head.“Well, what were you thinking of plastering next?”She indicated a smooth, minute pebble. Grant hesitated.“Could it be a patella?” asked the woman.“Maybe,” Grant said, still not a hundred percent sure. “If it’s nice and smooth then go ahead a plaster it.”“Okay,” she nodded.Once under a nearby EZ-UP, Grant pulled an ice-cold water bottle out a large cooler and drank deeply. He allowed himself to sit down in a folding chair and straightened out his aching knees. Apparently even the thickest knee pads on the face of the earth could only give so much relief.No matter though, Grant told himself. In about ten to fifteen minutes, I’ll have unearthed enough bones to finally identify the species. Dr. Grant had about two mouthfuls of water left in his bottle when he heard dirt grinding beneath tires. He glanced at his watch and—after glimpsing at the shiny, new Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon that rolled up—felt a pang of annoyance in the pit of his stomach.
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The Kids The engine of the G-Wagon shut off, and from the driver’s seat emerged a man in all-black dress clothes. He looked fairly young—late twenties or early thirties—so it couldn’t be Hammond.Must be in the passenger seat, Grant thought. The old man doesn’t drive?The chauffer opened the rear door on the driver’s side, and out came a boy and a girl, stretching their arms and legs. The girl had long, blonde hair that was tied in a ponytail on the back of her head using a thick, light purple scrunchie. She was clad in a loose, grey-blue t-shirt with a glittery, burgundy rose on the front; as well as capris and white tennis shoes; a hoodless pullover—colored a shade similar to her hair scrunchie—was tied around her waist.The girl was definitely the older one of the two; she was taller than her brother by about a foot; she looked about ten—maybe eleven—years old, Grant estimated. The boy had to be at least seven or eight, based solely on his height and physical appearance. He didn’t look all that much like his sister; his hair was a darker blonde and curly on the top of his head. He wore jeans, a striped, collared polo shirt, and a dark green zip-up hoodie. His shoes were similar to his sister’s, except they had a black stripe running along the sides.Interesting. So, these are Hammond’s grandkids, Grant flared his brow slightly. Lex and Tim. Definitely not little kids, so that’s something, I guess.Lex slammed the door shut and stood next to her brother, neither of them saying anything. In the sunlight, Grant was able to observe the fatigue in the kids’ body language accompanied by their poker faces as they waited for their grandfather to come around and introduce them to their new babysitter. Much as he didn’t care for children, Grant couldn’t help feeling internally pleased at the first impression he’d gotten of Lex and Tim. They seemed like well-behaved kids. He would never admit it, but he was also feeling quite sympathetic toward them as he imagined the long, boring drive they’d obviously been on and how they must be feeling a bit nervous, meeting a new grown-up.John Hammond made his way to the other side of the G-Wagon, leaning on a cane for support and smiling as he approached Dr. Grant.“Dr. Grant!” he greeted, holding out a hand for Grant to shake.“Hi,” Grant answered.“Thank you again for doing this on such short notice,” Hammond continued, and then gestured an inviting wave toward his grandkids. “Lex! Tim! Come and meet Dr. Grant!”Lex draped an arm over her brother’s shoulder, but Tim shrugged it off as he and his sister walked into Grant’s midst.“Lex, Tim, this is Alan Grant, the top paleontologist in his field. He’ll be looking after you while I’m gone,” Hammond said.“Hello,” Tim said, shaking hands with Grant. Lex followed suit.“Hey, guys,” Grant replied.“Like I’ve said, they should be of no trouble to you, Dr. Grant,” Hammond reiterated. “Lex, Tim, you two be good while I’m gone and don’t give him any trouble.”“Alright,” Lex answered, she and her brother nodding simultaneously.“I’ll be back with your mom and dad sometime this evening,” he added, giving his grandkids a hug.“Okay,” Tim piped up. “Bye, Grandpa!”He and his sister waved their grandfather goodbye as he returned to the car. Hammond waved back before once again taking shotgun in the passenger seat.Grant stood behind Lex and Tim, watching and listening as the engine started up and the G-Wagon disappeared into the distance. Once the car was completely out of sight, the kids turned their heads upward and made eye contact with Dr. Grant. Based on the kids’ facial expressions—coupled with the awkward silence, Grant had no doubt they were all thinking the same thing.
Now what?