The Dinosaur Hunter(43)

I might have stayed thrilled a little longer, had Amelia not showed up at that moment. She climbed up beside us, squatted down, and started back to work without saying a word. When Tanya and I just sat there, kind of enjoying the glow of our flirting, Amelia finally stopped picking and brushing and looked up at us. “What?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Tanya said.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Did I interrupt something?” she asked.

“No,” we both said in unison.

She frowned at us, then smiled. “I think I did.” Then she gave me a compliment that I could have done without. “Mike, I think it’s really nice how you can still act young sometimes.”

“Thanks,” I said while Tanya laughed. When she winked at me, I winked back.

“Ray acts so old all the time,” Amelia went on, oblivious to our flirting.

“He is a very nice boy,” Tanya said.

“Yes, but that’s all he is. A boy,” Amelia said, not noticing or caring that she had just contradicted herself.

We dug on in silence until we’d dug ourselves out and headed back to camp. That evening, after dinner, I found myself sitting alone before the fire pit. I was feeling a bit blue, don’t ask me why, but then Tanya appeared with two highball glasses, which clinked with ice and held a clear liquid. My spirits immediately rose. She handed me one of the glasses and sat in the chair beside me. She raised her glass and said, “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I replied and we drank. It was, unless I missed my guess, a vodka tonic. “Tanya, I think I’m in love.”

“With me or my vodka?” she asked, winking to show she knew I wasn’t serious.

“Where did this come from?” I asked.

“What Russian girl does not keep a stock of vodka on hand?” she asked. “The tonic is Pick’s. He likes to keep a store of it around because he says it keeps away the malaria he caught over in Africa. He hides it but, of course, I know where it is.”

“Well, God bless Russian girls and stealing from Pick, too.” I took a deep breath, and caught a whiff of Tanya. She smelled good. “What’s that perfume?” I asked. “It’s delightful.”

She preened. “Ivory soap, my dear.”

“You’ve bathed!”

“Well, I did my best from a bucket of dishwater.”

I took another deep inhalation. “Surely, there must be more. I detect the hint of an intoxicating fragrance that is familiar, yet I can’t quite identify.”

“Ah, you have a discriminating nose, Mike. Yes, the scent you detect is one hundred percent pure Diethyl-meta-toluamide.”

I took a wild guess. “You sprayed yourself with DEET.

“Yes, my dear. I am not only clean, I have my mosquito armor on like a good little dinosaur girl. Another vodka tonic?”

I gulped mine down and held out my glass like a cowboy Oliver. “Please, ma’am, can I have some more?”

Oh, we had a fine time that evening, drinking up her vodka and Pick’s tonic, and solving the world’s problems if not our own. The others joined us briefly, even the two Marsh brothers, but everybody seemed tired and slipped away to bed early, our guests given lodging in the cook tent.

After a while, a dreamy mood overcame Tanya and me, and we just sat there and watched the moon rise and the Milky Way blink on and the satellites crossing over. When, toward the end of the evening, she assured me that she had a “very great deal” of vodka tucked away, I began to understand how really special this woman was. Of course, Tanya and I went to our respective tents alone. We were playing the flirty game and, so far, that’s all it was.

That night, I again heard the strange engine noises. I stayed in my tent and listened. There was no way I was going to climb that hill again to see what I could see. I went to sleep, waking to what sounded like a small avalanche. I got up. Everything was quiet except for the brotherly snores coming from the cook tent. I started to climb back into my tent when I heard the sound of a rock rolling down the hill. It smacked the sand at the base with a solid thump. Or someone? I got out my heavy duty flashlight from my tent and shined it up the hill. All I saw were rocks, dirt, and the layers of deep time.





13




The next day, we had more visitors show up. I was beginning to think we were at the crossroads of the world. This time, it was Mayor Brescoe accompanied by her husband, nasty Ted of the BLM. They arrived on foot, without water or anything else, having left their truck somewhere nearby, a suspicion soon confirmed when Edith crawled up beside us and said, “I’m bushed. Ted made us walk from the gate. Hello, Mike, Amelia, Ray. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”