Chapter 32: I See My Fifty Thousand A Year Is Well Spent
July 9, 1993 - Friday
After spending what seemed like a short time on the computer in the office, Ellie leaned back in her chair, stretching her back and neck. This particular room of the house was beginning to be where she spent all of her free time when they were in Glasgow. She was putting the finishing touches on a research paper, and was relieved to see the project come to an end after a full month of preparation. Slowly turning around in the chair, she glanced at the clock on the far wall. The time it indicated was astonishing to her, a quarter to midnight. The last time she had checked it had been around eight-thirty in the evening.
Still turned around, she looked around the room taking everything in. Being that it was nearly midnight, the house was very much at peace and for the most part, quiet. Jack's cage was in the corner of the room and even he was silent. She noticed that the sheet was draped over his cage and smiled as she realized that Alan must have gone over there and covered it, a feat that she had totally missed.
As she had been hard at work, Alan had been watching television in the same room, but now the television was the only thing that remained on and alert. He was sound asleep, stretched out on the sofa. This was the sofa from her apartment. Just about everything in this room was from her apartment, she realized. She had talked him into finishing the master bedroom and turning it into an office, so it was only natural that she had gotten her furniture out of storage and used most of it here.
Trying to reel her scattered thoughts in, she fixated her tired gaze back on Alan. She slowly took her glasses off, and blindly set them on the computer desk behind her. Smiling warmly, she studied him. His head was propped up on a cushion, with one arm kind of hanging off the sofa, suspended in mind air. His other arm was resting on his chest, against his rumpled clothes. Ellie found it amusing that he didn't even bother getting out of his work clothes, right down to his work boots. She remembered when he had entered the room, but had no idea what time that was, as she hardly paid attention to him. She had been very engrossed in the words on the screen at the time, and was now wondering if he had fallen asleep, disappointed with her lack of interest. She decided that he probably didn't care, mostly because that idea made her feel better. Besides, he had a bad habit of bringing his work to bed, and in her opinion, that was much worse than ignoring someone in the computer office . . . where the work was intended to be done.
She turned back around and hit the "save" button on the screen, and then powered down the computer. A part of the light present in the room dissipated, as the monitor went black. She slowly pushed the chair back and stood up, stretching again as she did so. Walking across the room, she reached down and gently touched Alan on the shoulder.
"Hey, wake up," she whispered. After thinking for a second, she laughed as she added, "Time to go to bed."
His eyes opened quicker than she thought they would have opened. After focusing on her, he smiled and then he looked around the room.
"What time is it?" he asked, still groggy, slowly sitting up.
"Almost midnight," she said, offering her hand to him.
He took it and she helped him to his feet. He looked very rough around the edges, making her feel kind of bad for him, considering what had happened during the daytime. One of the tourists had stepped on a delicate fossil before Alan had gotten the chance to remove it. The look on his face was worth a thousand angry words, but to his credit, he only shook his head and walked away in silence.
"I'm really sorry about bringing all of those inexperienced volunteers to the dig site, Alan."
He was beginning to wake up a little bit now, as he hugged her. It was somewhat of a strange gesture, but Ellie hugged him back.
"It's okay. We needed the money, anyway. A few destroyed fossils are no big deal."
Ellie laughed uneasily and was about to respond, when Alan's face lit up and he interrupted her thoughts.
"Want to take some time off and not come back until next week?" He asked out of the blue.
Ellie stared at him, thinking he had lost his mind.
"What about the raptors?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"What about Bob Morris from the EPA?"
"I don't know about that, either," he answered, frowning and yawning.
"Alan, you're going to have to talk to him and get it over with."
Alan stretched his arms and yawned again, causing his eyes to water a little bit.
"He can wait," he finally stated, then he added, "And the raptors . . . well, I'm sure by tomorrow, some other idiot will trip and accidently jackhammer one of them to obliteration or something, so we may as well just get the hell out of here."
All of the bantering back and forth had disturbed Jack, and Ellie could hear the parrot stirring in the covered cage. Ignoring the smart aleck part of Alan's comment, she decided that a lateral shift in subject was a good idea. If they continued on the way there were, there would be an argument in a matter of a few more words, she was sure of it.
"And . . . who will care for Jack?" she asked, gesturing toward his cage.
Still having Jack was a sore spot with Alan, but Ellie brought it up anyway.
"Jack can take care of Jack."
"Alan," she scolded, crossing her arms.
"What?" he asked in an innocent way. "We can get Rob to throw some food in his cage every other day or something."
"He eats every day, Alan."
"Whatever."
Ellie remained quiet, thinking about the possibility of getting away from it all for a week.
"I don't know," she sighed.
Alan tried a different approach.
"Weren't you the one complaining that we've become boring and do the same thing, over and over?"
"Well, yeah."
"And aren't you the one who said I should try and relax and get away from it all?"
"Yes."
"So, what is wrong with a mini vacation?"
"Where would we go?"
He had her attention now. He had her approval to go somewhere. All that was left to do was to tell her where. He smiled, drew in a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly.
"I have no idea," he finally said.
"I can see how well planned all of this was," she observed, chuckling.
He briefly thought about all of the fossils found recently. They would need his attention, so he reluctantly arrived at the more sensible conclusion . . . which coincided with her conclusion.
"You're probably right. We need to stay with the raptors," he admitted, sadly sighing.
Ellie gently touched his arm. She didn't know what was going on in his head, so all she had to work with was his abrupt change of attitude.
"You go from one extreme to the other," she said, smiling coyly at him.
"I'm a man of many facets. One of which just wants to go to sleep."
"And the others? Do any of the others feel like fixing the lock on the back door tomorrow?"
"Well, that particular one is out to lunch I'm afraid, but one of the others . . . " Alan began, and then after a big yawn, continued, "wants nothing more to do with those damn tourists and their damn kids."
Ellie laughed, "My, my . . . aren't we negative?"
Alan smirked, and then allowed a smile to develop upon his face.
"I'm a fairly positive person," he countered.
"I know that."
"You are so very confusing to a person who is half-asleep. Could we just talk about . . . whatever it is we're talking about . . . later?"
She smiled at him and he thought she looked absolutely beautiful as she said, "Okay."
"Good."
"I'll be sure to remind you later, since you'll conveniently forget about it."
"Oh, yes. You're absolutely right, yet again," Alan finally said.
"If I didn't think you were talking mostly in your sleep, I would take that as a sarcastic comment."
"Take it anyway you like. I'm going to sleep," he said, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead.
She watched him walk out of the room. She stood there for a minute, and then shut the television off and quietly said good-night to Jack. She lazily walked through the hallway and entered the bedroom. He was already in the bed and it looked as if he was already sleeping. Getting into the bed, she situated the blankets and then draped her arm over his chest, like almost always. She found it comforting to feel his rhythmic breathing while he slept. She closed her eyes and found her way to the dream world pretty quick.
July 12, 1993 - Monday
Somewhere in the distance, a loud booming noise was heard, echoing through the area. As Ellie turned her head toward the noise, Alan noticed the remnants of the knife wounds on her neck. They were only barely there, but still visible from a certain angle. When she turned back toward him, she saw where he was looking, so she instinctively lifted a hand to her neck to cover them.
"Don't start on me again," she warned.
"Did I say anything?" he questioned, a look of innocence upon his face.
"You're saying plenty without using words and you know it," she stated.
"I think . . ."
"You think what?" Ellie questioned in a defensive way.
"I just think that you are very set in your ways. You need to listen to what other people have to say every once in a while. The fact that you don't really angers me," Alan said.
Immediately, even before he looked toward Ellie, he knew that she would take that entirely the wrong way. She hadn't been in the best of moods since the attack. He was very aware of that, yet he decided to say something stupid anyway. He briefly closed his eyes, wondering why he didn't try to think before he spoke, for once.
"I have my own way of looking at things. That's true," Ellie admitted. Alan was surprised that she didn't go for his throat. "But, there's nothing wrong with that." Alan sighed, realizing that he had, indeed, upset her. "You should try to respect other people's opinions a little bit more, especially opinions about themselves. Don't you think?" she challenged, glaring at him.
"Sure."
"I hate it when you do that," she said angrily.
"Do what?"
"Start a damn argument and then run from it."
It was Alan's turn to get defensive.
"I'm not running from anything," he stated coldly.
Ellie chose her words carefully.
"You are always trying to make peace. You're always trying to get out of fighting."
"What is wrong with that?"
"Sometimes it's good to fight, Alan."
"So, what do you want me to do? Call you names so that you can get angry?" Ellie rolled her eyes. "Okay. Fine. You're a foolish your-way-or-the-highway insane woman!" He shouted, amused slightly at his choice of insults.
Ellie could honestly go either way here, and he was somewhat taken aback by the way she was staring at him. She was simply staring and not saying a word. Finally, she cracked a smile.
"You're impossible."
"No, you are," he countered, secretly relieved that she took that in a positive way.
Rob approached them as their argument was coming to a close. Ellie was shaking her head, as if to show that Alan was wrong, but she wasn't going to press it further. They stopped bickering and looked at him.
"Oh, please don't stop on my account. I love a good fight."
"What's up, Rob?" Alan asked, happy that they were interrupted.
"Bob Morris isn't coming today either."
"What was the excuse this time?" Ellie snapped.
"Whoa. Don't bite the hand that . . . " Rob lost where he was going, "that . . . feeds the dog . . . uh, feeds the news to you . . . or whatever. Seriously though, I don't know. I haven't even talked to him. His secretary keeps calling,"
"That makes twice that he's postponed and I'm getting a little worried," Alan said.
"Worried?" Rob asked.
"Yeah. The guy calls and requests to meet with me to talk about the Hammond Foundation, seems very rushed to do so, and then just keeps cancelling meetings? It's a little disturbing."
"Well, when you put it that way, I see your point," Rob stated, "But I think it's out of our hands. When he gets here, he gets here, so quit worrying."
"For once, I totally agree with the Robster," Ellie said, smiling.
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, young lady," Rob said proudly. After watching her smile at him, he added, "Wanna go out sometime? You understand me."
"No, she doesn't," Alan answered for her.
"No, she doesn't understand me? Or no, she doesn't want to go out with me?"
"No, on both accounts," Alan answered.
Again, Alan and Ellie were staring at each other, so Rob cleared his throat and tried to put a stop to the awkwardness. If whatever was bothering them would get out into the open, it would be much better in his opinion.
"So, what were you guys fighting about?" he asked innocently.
"He thinks I should be at home resting like someone devastated by what had happened to them, like they should be afraid to face the real world."
"That's not exactly what I said."
"So," she replied, almost challenging him.
"I said that I thought it was too early for you to come back to work, since you're so sore. Sore from the truck accident and the attack, both."
"I'm fine," Ellie insisted.
Rob laughed.
"Well, maybe Alan has a point."
"He does?"
"Maybe," Rob answered quietly, afraid to get her upset.
"I take back what I said about you, then," Ellie joked.
"Hey, no fair," Rob complained. After a brief moment where the three of them laughed, he continued, "Ellie, if you're still not feeling one hundred percent like yourself, maybe you should go see a psychologist or a psychiatrist."
"I don't think so."
"They're not awful people, you know. They only want to help," Rob offered.
"Rob dated a psychiatrist for a short time," Alan added.
Ellie looked at Rob and laughed.
"Really?"
"Why is that funny?" Rob challenged.
"I think you know why."
"Yeah, good point. Well, anyway. Yes, it's true. I did. But . . . short time . . . that's an understatement," he admitted.
"Why? What happened?" Ellie asked, truly curious.
"Well, she took a few weeks to get to know me . . ."
"And that was more than enough time for her to decide to run," Alan said, snickering.
Rob hit him in the arm, protesting his friend's simple . . . yet true . . . explanation.
"But," he said, pointing toward Alan, "She did say that she thought it would be a very good idea if I would continue to see her . . . professionally."
Ellie was always so easily amused by Rob's perception on things and this was no exception.
"And did you?" she asked, laughing.
"Yeah, for a little wh-" Rob stopped himself from continuing his thought, "You know, this is about you. Not me. You should go and see her if you're not feeling like yourself."
"Thanks, Rob. Maybe I will."
"You're very tricky, getting me to pour my heart and soul out to you."
"It wasn't so hard really," she admitted.
"Women," Rob said, sighing.
"Men are no picnic either," Ellie added.
"Hey," Alan said in defiance.
"So, do you want her number?" Rob asked, changing the subject while Alan and Ellie stared at each other for a moment.
She glanced at Alan, and then back toward Rob. The two men standing before her were the most important men in her life and they were both looking at her, waiting for a response. She knew they were just trying to help, so it wouldn't hurt to get the number.
"Sure," she said, nodding.
Ellie followed him to his trailer. He opened the door and went inside, and then noticed she wasn't following.
"Come on. Nothing in here will bite." She smiled and walked inside, and then he added ". . . much."
Rolling her eyes, Ellie smiled at him and then began to take in her new surroundings. It was pretty messy in the trailer, with various science experiments scattered about the counters and his clothes piled up all over the place. The thing she found more curious than anything, besides his lack of using drawers to store his clothes, were the newspaper clippings on several of the walls.
"What's with all the clippings?" she asked.
"Oh, just some bits of data I like to collect. Quite fascinating, actually."
She noticed one in particular, hanging on the lower half of the refrigerator, taking up quite a bit of space. She stopped to look at it.
"Space aliens stole my face?" she read out loud.
"Well, okay . . . so a few of them aren't very scientifically accurate, per say."
"Yeah."
"But! You never know! Aliens could have come here and stolen that man's face, Ellie. There's just no way of knowing these things."
"Where's the number, Rob?" Ellie asked.
"I can see you're one of those disbelievers. Fine. But, when the aliens take over the planet, don't come crying to me."
"I won't."
Rob frowned, so Ellie felt compelled to explain further.
"I'm not a disbeliever. I've been told that my father was very much a fan of the supernatural. I just find it hard to fathom, since there's no real proof and only a bunch of speculation."
"That's true."
"As a scientist, I need to see the proof, I guess."
"Fair enough," Rob conceded, nodding and walking toward the phone.
"Okay," he said, glancing at the answering machine and noticing it indicated that he had two messages. Ignoring that for a moment, he continued rambling to himself, "Phone number . . . of the shrink who loved me for like a day. Ah! Here it is!"
He reached under the phone and pulled out a black book.
"Oh, God. Those stupid black books really do exist," Ellie teased.
"Hey, shut it!" he said in a joking manner. "Every woman I've ever had the pleasure of . . . meeting . . . is in this book."
Ellie laughed.
"Not funny!" he exclaimed, pointing at her, "This thing is like a diary. Yes! That's it! It's like a male version of that cheesy diary you females seem to fancy."
Ellie just smiled at him. He made a goofy face, and then pressed the flashing message button on the answering machine. The first message was a hang up call. Kara's voice came on the machine for the second message.
"Hey jerk," she said as if that were a fact, "I need to know what you're doing in August. August 7th to be exact. I'm going to have a party, celebrating my new job. So, call me, Robster. Or I'll have to sic Dad on you."
Kara's threat ended in a maniacal laugh, which made Rob laugh in return.
"Oh, isn't she the little evil-doer?" He commented, shaking his head.
"I didn't know she got a new job," Ellie mentioned.
"Alan didn't tell you?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Alan knew?" Ellie asked, surprised for some reason.
Rob took a good look at her, before he said another word. In his mind, she and Alan had been having some sort of fight just before this, so she may have been looking for something to call Alan on. It also seemed that Ellie's question had more meaning to it than met the eye, with women's intuition and all of that. Or . . . Rob's radar could have been totally off, yet again, which was probably the case. Still, he decided to tread the waters lightly.
"Uh. Yeah."
Ellie shrugged her shoulders, looking like she dismissed the intuition thing that was really only in Rob's mind anyway, "So, what is she going to do?"
"About what?" Rob asked, confused.
Ellie smiled, mostly at the look on his face. He was acting really odd.
"What will she be doing in her new job, Rob?"
"Oh, that. Yes, well . . . I don't really know. Something with computers."
"Are you okay?"
He had the sudden urge to spill his guts to her about his sister and Alan. It was right at the tip of his tongue . . . and then he came to his senses.
"I think I'm coming down with something. I just don't feel very good."
"What's the matter?"
"Sniffling, coughing," Rob began to say, and then he smiled and added, "sneezing, aching, night time stuffy, can't rest."
"Uh huh," Ellie said, crossing her arms.
"Know anything for that?" Ellie laughed and rolled her eyes. "You know, you do that a lot. Rolling your eyes. It's not good for you. Your eyes could stay like that," Rob pointed out.
"And you shouldn't drink in the afternoon."
"Ouch. Low blow. True, though, I suppose. Only, today you are incorrect, missy!"
"I've gotta get going here," she said.
Rob reached for a scrap piece of paper, wrote down the psychiatrist's number, and presented it in front of her. She stared at the piece of paper, but didn't make an attempt to take it, so he picked up her hand and placed the paper there for her. His usual clown-like demeanor disappeared.
"Call her. I think you could use the help, Ellie. Most people live their whole lives, not going through what you did in those two days, so it's normal for you to be feeling some anxiety. Just promise me that you'll think about it."
Ellie nodded, "Okay. I'll think about it."
"Hopefully, the rest of your life will be filled with love, happiness and boredom . . . and a lot less of intense situations and close calls."
"I hope so, too."
"Sappy romance is much better than running from crazed assholes with knives."
"Good point. I couldn't agree more," she said, hugging him, "Thanks again, Rob."
"Anytime," he said softly.
Ellie turned and walked out of the unkept trailer.
July 16, 1993 - Friday
Stretched out on the ground, Alan stared at the ancient claw of a creature he had long since admired. He had found the claw only about ten minutes before, and now that was the only thing he was focused on. There were a handful of other volunteers kneeling in the dirt near him, assisting with the digging. Ellie was lying beside him, carefully wrapping a different section of the fossil, when they were interrupted by one of Brian's workers.
"Dr. Grant. Dr. Sattler. We're ready to try again," he said, as he walked up the small hill where they had been for most of the day.
Alan stood up.
"I hate computers," he grumbled.
Ellie stood up next to him, smiling.
"The feeling's mutual," she teased.
He stared at her for a second, and then decided to just get the computer thing over with. They walked down the hill and toward the small tent ahead of them. Brian was under the tent and he was looking to his right. Alan followed his gaze and found himself looking at two men standing a little way from the tent, fiddling with a strange looking contraption. It was orange in color and looked like a modified hand cart.
"Brian," he said, frowning. Brian had already been typing something into the computer again. He stopped and looked at Alan. "What the hell is that?" Alan asked, pointing toward the two men.
Brian glanced back over there.
"Ready?" he asked one of the men.
The closer man nodded by pulling the brim of his hat down.
"This is a new and improved dynamite system. We like to call it 'thumper'," Brian said proudly.
"What are you going to blow up?" Alan asked, really not sure if he wanted an answer.
Brian smiled.
"Thumper will send vibrations through the ground, allowing an image to bounce back up to the computer, and then-"
"That's enough for me, thank you," Alan interrupted, holding up a hand.
Brian nodded and added, "We've tested this system several times and it works much better than the other system from last month, Dr. Grant."
Alan was already walking toward the two men about to detonate the ground. He watched them load what looked like a bullet into the device and then it erupted, causing the ground to shake.
The sun getting to him, Alan took off his hat and then stepped back toward the tent. There was a slight shadow lingering underneath the tent, so he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in his shirt pocket.
"How long does this usually take?" Ellie asked, leaning over Brian's shoulder and taking off her own sunglasses.
"It should bring an immediate return. You shoot the radar into the ground and the bone bounces the image back . . . bounces it back," Brian said the last part to himself as he fumbled with a few more bottoms. A few seconds later, he was satisfied with the image he was getting, "This new program is incredible. A few more years of development and we won't even have to dig anymore."
"Where's the fun in that?" Alan teased, frowning again.
Ellie smiled and reached over, playfully squeezing his arm, "Shush."
"It's a little distorted, but I don't think it's the computer," Brian said, studying the image and ignoring Alan's reply.
Ellie moved next to Brian and joined him in studying the image. After a few blips on the screen, a nicely detailed image appeared, showing the complete skeletal remains of one of the many ancient creatures known to be in Montana.
"Highly modified pedal digit II bearing a greatly enlarged trenchant ungual," Ellie said, pointing to a place on the image.
Alan had remained farther back, leaning on a wooden pole holding the tent upright, but when Ellie started with her analysis, he moved closer to her.
"Velociraptor antirrhopus?" she asked.
With her question, he made his way to the computer screen.
"Yeah, good shape, too. It's about five feet high. I'm guessing nine feet long," he answered, almost astonished to be able to see it so clearly. He reached out and gently pointed at the computer screen as he continued, "And look at the extraordinary-"
The computer image became very distorted as static ran through it.
"What did you do?" Brian asked, confused.
"He touched it." As she said that, he placed his hand on the cardboard that was over the screen and that caused another distortion. "Dr. Grant's not machine compatible," Ellie added, laughing.
"Hell, they've got it in for me," Alan complained softly to himself, shaking his head. After a beat, he went on, "And look at the semilunate radiale with an assymetrical proximal ginglymus . . . plus the oval wedge-shaped ulnare. It's no wonder these guys learned how to fly."
Some of the tourists began to laugh under their breath. Alan, determined to show these people his way of thinking, became defensive.
"No, seriously," he debated, "Show of the hands. How many of you have read my book?"
Everyone stopped laughing and looked away. Ellie raised her hand in support, as did three other volunteers.
"All right," Alan said, sighing, "Well, maybe dinosaurs have more in common with present-day birds, than they do with reptiles. Look at the pubic bone, laterally compressed pubic boot angled back and ventrally, just like a bird. Look at the vertebrae full of air sacs and hollows, just like a bird. And even the word Raptor means . . . bird of prey."
"That doesn't look very scary," one of the children interrupted from behind the crowd.
The crowd began to disburse, revealing a slightly overweight young boy with a disbelieving look on his face.
"That kid is a pistol," One of the male volunteers said, laughing.
"More like a six-foot turkey," the kid added.
"A turkey, huh?" Alan repeated, eyeing the child standing before him.
"Oh, no," Ellie sighed, as she watched him cautiously walk over to the boy.
"So," Alan began and then gestured toward the kid, "Got a name?"
"Kevin. Kevin Donavin," the boy proudly answered.
"Well, Mr. Donavin. Let me tell you a little story . . ."
Ellie could see that he was probably thinking that strangling the kid would be a good idea, but then she shook her head as he had obviously decided to go with scare tactics instead. She watched him position himself in front of the boy, as he began his "velociraptor speech", telling the boy about the hunting patterns of one of the most dangerous creatures ever to walk the planet. She had heard it before, but in this particular case he was more into it than she had ever seen. At first the kid sighed with boredom, but as the story progressed his demeanor changed, giving away to slight fear. As the crowd looked on and listened, she grimaced when Alan removed a raptor claw from his pocket and started to "slash" at the boy's mid section, mimicking an attack from the ancient world.
"Oh, Alan," she whispered to herself, shaking her head.
The boy's smile was very much gone now, as Alan finished his speech.
"The point is, you are alive when they start to eat you. So, you know, try to show a little respect?"
The boy shook his head, not taking his frightened eyes of the mad scientist in front of him.
"Okay," he simply said.
Grinning from ear to ear, Alan nodded and turned away from the boy.
"Hey, Alan. If you wanted to scare the kid, you could have pulled a gun on him, you know."
"Yeah, I know. Kids. You want to have one of those?"
"I don't want that kid. But a breed of child Dr. Grant could be intriguing," she said, walking closer to him, "I mean, what's so wrong with kids?"
"Oh, Ellie. Look, they're noisy, they're messy. They're expensive."
"Cheap, cheap," she whispered, shaking her head.
Just then, Brian's little daughter ran up to them.
"Miss Ellie, Cody won't let me read his dinosaur book."
Alan looked down at the little girl. She had dirt on her little dress and a chocolate bar in her left hand that was melting in the heat of the day.
"Case in point," he whispered to Ellie, motioning towards the little annoyance for emphasis.
"Oh, shut up," she said, smiling. She knelt down next to Megan, "Maybe if you washed your hands, I could show you a really neat dinosaur book. That has a lot of cool pictures."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"Okay!" Megan shouted. She turned and ran away from them.
"How charming," Alan quipped.
"Hey," Ellie said, hitting him in the arm, "You were just crying that no one had read your book a minute ago, so now someone is going to read it."
"She's only like six. I doubt she can read."
"She can just look at the pictures, then," she said, and then she added, "Stop complaining about everything. She's cute."
"Oh, sure she is. From way over there, she is. And where is her brother? Do you have anyone watching his every move?"
"You're impossible."
"Impossible? I don't think so. That kid thinks this place is a giant sandbox."
"It frustrates me so much that I love you, that I need to strangle you right now," Ellie said.
Playfully, she took off his hat and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding his hat behind him. He reached around her waist and kissed her with such intensity and strength, that he caught her off guard, managing to get her to lose her balance and sway backward. Firmly holding her in his arms, he looked at her and laughed.
"Weak in the knees?" he teased.
"Sure. If that's what you need to think."
As their bickering was turning into flirting, a strange wind began to whip around. They released each other, and looked around, spotting a helicopter in the distance. It was getting lower and closer by the minute, until they finally realized it was landing in the middle of the dig site.
Alan's anger was animated as he began to shout over the helicopter's approaching engine.
"Cover the site!"
Ellie began to run in a slightly different direction, shouting with just as much eagerness.
"Get some canvasses and cover anything that's exposed!"
Volunteers, students and tourists within hearing distance began to frantically run around, trying to stop the blowing dirt from filling in everything that had been dug out. Months of hard work were quickly going to waste.
Running up to the helicopter, Alan ducked and approached the pilot's door.
"Just cut it will ya?!" he yelled, making a cutting gesture across his throat.
The pilot shouted something and pointed toward somewhere unknown.
"Cut it out! Shut it down!" Alan shouted, now making that same cutting gesture with both hands with even more intensity.
Again, the pilot pointed away from the helicopter.
"What?" Alan yelled, puzzled.
Since the man was so insistent on pointing, Alan decided to look. He was pointing toward one of the trailers. Rob Tandy's trailer. The man was telling Alan that the person he wanted to yell at was in the trailer.
Alan looked back at the pilot, nodded and began to rush away from the helicopter.
Jogging down a small hill, he headed for Rob's trailer, angrily pushing away someone's clothes that were hanging up on a nearby line. A few onlookers gave him strange looks as he opened the door with a vengeance and stormed inside. As he let the screen door shut behind him, he saw an older gentleman peeking into the refrigerator.
"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" he shouted.
The bearded man, with white hair and clothes to match, turned around. He had a bottle of champagne in his hands and he was opening it as he turned to face Alan. The sound of the cork popping filled the small trailer.
"Hey, we were saving that!" Alan shouted again.
"For today, I guarantee it," the smiling man promised.
After standing in place for a second and trying to get his anger under control, Alan finally gave up and approached the man.
"Who in God's name do you think you are?" Alan questioned, pointing at him.
"John Hammond," the man said as he shook his finger that was still extended in an accusation style, "And I'm delighted to finally meet you in person, Dr. Grant."
He took his hand away and nonchalantly blew the dust from it. Alan began to repeat the man's last name to himself, while Hammond was looking around the small trailer.
"I see my fifty thousand a year has been well spent," he said cheerfully, walking toward the sink. He grabbed a pink dishtowel and began to wipe the frost from the bottle.
"Okay, who's the jerk?" Ellie asked, bursting into the trailer.
"Uh, this is our paleobotantist, Doctor . . . " Alan lost his train of thought, as he stared at the man who was responsible for the entire dig site.
He reached toward Ellie, who was all the way inside Rob's trailer now. She finished his sentence, "Sattler."
"Sattler," Alan repeated, smiling.
"Ah ha," Hammond said, acknowledging her and ignoring her misplaced shouting.
"Ellie," Alan said, clinching her arm, "This is Mr. Hammond," and then he whispered to her, "John . . . Hammond."
As Ellie was figuring out what was going on, Hammond walked up to her.
"Sorry about that dramatic entrance, Dr. Sattler," he apologized as he shook her hand.
"Did I say jerk?" Ellie said, shrugging and looking embarrassed.
Hammond finished his sentence, "But we're in a wee bit of a hurry."
Ellie stared, not knowing what was expected of her next. Hammond took over though.
"Will you have a drink?" He asked, holding up the champagne bottle. "We won't let it get warm. Come along, sit down."
By this time, Hammond was already on his way to the cupboards for glasses for the champagne. Ellie quickly followed behind him, trying to help.
"Here let me . . ." she said, trailing off and setting her hat on the table.
"I'll just get a glass or two," Hammond said.
Ellie walked toward Hammond and tried to help. There were several long wooden tables set up, every inch covered with bone specimens that are neatly laid out, tagged, and labeled. Farther along were ceramic dishes and crocks, soaking other bones in acid and vinegar.
"There are samples all over the place," she explained, as she looked around suddenly wishing that Rob's trailer was a little neater.
"Oh, no, no, no, no. I can manage this," Hammond insisted, placing a hand on her back.
Alan stood in place, watching the two for a moment. Then he made his way behind the table, continuing to silently observe, a smile slowly creeping upon his face.
"I know my way around the kitchen," Hammond said, as he carefully nudged Ellie away from the sink and to the other side of the table where Alan was. On the way, she grabbed a bottled water.
"Now," Hammond said, setting the glasses on the kitchen counter, "I'll get right to the point. Um," he glanced toward them, "I like ya. Both of ya," he finished, as he rinsed out a glass.
Alan had unconsciously picked up a dremel that was on the table. As Ellie came around behind him, he briefly made eye contact with her, and then reached down and put it back. It seemed as though his main investor was now ready to reveal his reasons for being there, so he gave him his complete attention.
"I can tell instantly about people. It's a gift," Hammond said proudly, wiping the glass dry.
Alan sat on a nearby stool, while Ellie settled for leaning against the counter on their side of the table. When they were both content and still, Hammond continued in a serious manner.
"I own an island off the coast of Costa Rica," he presented, using his hands to accent his words, "I've leased it from the government and I've spent the last five years setting up a kind of biological preserve. Really spectacular. Spared no expense," he said with a hand gesture.
Alan and Ellie were silent, listening as Hammond's excitement level kept steadily rising.
"Make the one down I've got down in Kenya look like a petting zoo," Hammond announced proudly, waiting for the scientists to laugh.
After Hammond began to laugh, they uncomfortably joined in.
"And there's no doubt our attractions will drive kids out of their minds!" Hammond added.
"And what are those?" Alan asked, finally saying something.
Ellie leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Small versions of adults, honey."
She smiled, very proud and tickled with her little inside joke. Alan gave her one of his more unpleasant looks, as Hammond kept on talking, oblivious to what had been said.
"And not just kids. Everyone. We're going to open next year. That is if the lawyers don't kill me first," he explained as he watched Ellie reach back and put her water bottle on the table behind her, "I don't really care for lawyers. Do you?"
"Well, uh, we don't really know any," they answered in unison, although Alan was thinking back to the guy who cross-examined him in the Greg Diamond trial and slightly frowning.
"Well, I do I'm afraid," Hammond told them, still holding the champagne bottle, "There's a particular pebble in my shoe, represents my investors. Says they insist on outside opinions," he continued, emphasizing the word 'outside'.
"What kind of opinions?" Ellie asked, very curious.
"Well, your kind not to put to fine a point on it," Hammond answered, gesturing the champagne bottle toward her. "I mean, let's face it. In your particular field, you're the top minds." He turned away from them and began to pour the champagne into one of the glasses. "And if I could just persuade you to sign off on the park." After half-filling one glass, he grabbed another and turned back to face them. "You know, give it your endorsement, maybe even pen a wee testimonial, I could get back on shedual." After pronouncing 'schedule' in his own dialect, he corrected himself, Americanizing the term, "uh, schedule."
Ellie smiled in a pleasant way, "Why would they care what we think?"
Alan was more serious, "What kind of park is this?" he questioned.
Hammond smiled and handed him a drink. After a slight and well-placed pause, the white-haired man answered, "It's right up your alley." He still had their attention, so he went for the prize, "I'll tell you what. Why don't you come down, just the pair of ya, for the weekend?" He graciously handed a drink to Ellie, "I'd love to have an opinion of a paleobotonist, as well."
Ellie smiled at him and he gleefully chuckled.
"I've got a jet standing by at Choteau," he said, as he jumped backwards and raised himself up to the counter, using it as a place to sit.
"We're supposed to meet a guy from the EPA today," Ellie mentioned.
"Ah, yes. Mr. Robert Morris," Hammond reported.
"How do you know him?" Alan asked, vaguely suspicious.
"Bob has this habit of frolicking around and interrogating all of my colleagues. He really is quite a pest, I'd say," Hammond answered, chuckling.
Alan stared at the man. Any thoughts of a proper response were very far away, as he couldn't follow the older man's crazy humor and logic.
Hammond cleared his throat, "Anyway, you don't have to worry yourselves over Bob anymore."
"Why is that?" Ellie asked.
"I told him . . ." Hammond started, and then he glanced at Alan, ". . . that you had a death in the family."
"Death?" Alan wondered aloud.
"It seems your poor dear Aunt Diane has passed on," Hammond confessed with a sadness to his voice. Then his frown morphed into a smile, showing he was clearly proud of himself.
Ellie gave Alan a questionable look and he shook his head. Seconds later Alan responded to the lively older man, "I don't have an Aunt Diane."
"Oh, dear boy," Hammond sighed, placing his hand on Alan's shoulder, "I know that. You know that. But, you see . . . Bob Morris hasn't a clue."
Alan backed away and continued to shake his head.
"Mr. Hammond, I'm not sure what sort of game you're playing, but I really don't want to get into trouble with the EPA. I've never-"
"Oh, don't worry yourself about the EPA. As a government agency, they are pretty small potatoes," Hammond explained, cutting him off. He saw that they were staring at him strangely again, so he added, "Now if I was rescheduling meetings with the IRS, then you would have reason to be concerned," he joked.
The joke didn't go over very well, causing him to sigh deeply again and look down for a moment. Finally, Alan spoke, breaking the silence.
"So, you lied to . . . Bob . . . and then proceeded to reschedule the meeting without asking me?"
"You make it sound like some sort of crime, putting it that way," Hammond stated, slightly hurt by the accusation.
"If the shoe fits," Ellie observed.
"Ellie," Alan said softly, trying to put a stop to her wave of honesty that was certain to follow.
She frowned, showing that she wasn't happy about it, but then she settled on crossing her arms and keeping silent. Alan breathed a sigh of relief. This man was unusual, no doubts about that, but this was also the man responsible for allowing him to continue his digging summer after summer.
Alan thought about the other reasons why he shouldn't leave. There were just too many different things going on at once right now. He stood up.
"Look, I'm sorry, but this is impossible," Alan said, standing up and searching for a place to leave his champagne glass.
Ellie joined him, "Yeah, we're very busy."
"We just dug up a new skeleton," Alan said, trying his best to be polite about not wanting to leave Montana.
Hammond poured champagne into his own glass.
"I could compensate you, by fully funding your dig," he said, looking up with confidence.
"And this is a very unusual time-" Alan began to say, with Ellie saying something similar at the same time.
"For a further three years," Hammond said matter-of-factly.
Alan stood motionless, with the exception of his head turning slightly to the left, "Hmm . . ."
"Well, uh . . ." Ellie said softly, thinking about what the cheerful bearded man's last statement meant to them.
Hammond looked toward them, waiting for the answer that he knew was fast approaching. He was accustomed to getting his own way and this wasn't going to be an exception in his mind.
"Where's the plane?" Ellie said suddenly, trying not to be too overjoyed.
"Okay," Alan said with an equal amount of enthusiasm, nodding to Hammond.
Alan took a step forward and gently touched his glass against Hammond's, toasting the occasion. Then, he looked at Ellie with a smile from ear to ear. The older and wiser man smiled on, as the two scientists embraced and laughed in celebration.
Ellie stood next to the door of the trailer waiting for Alan to approach. John Hammond had left about an hour before, and they were to meet him in Choteau, Montana in four hours. Alan had been making phone calls, writing down helpful instructions for Carl Porter, and basically running around the dig site like a crazy person. If they hadn't found something so substantial in recent days, things would have been a lot easier for Alan to just up and leave quickly, but he wanted to make sure that the recently discovered raptors were going to be given the proper care. It was just in his nature. They probably shouldn't have really agreed to go, but Ellie knew the funding was always dangerously low. Hammond's generous offer just couldn't be refused at this point.
When she saw him, she propped the door open, to make way for the two suitcases he was carrying. He walked them out to the car and placed them in the trunk. Ellie began to follow him, but then remembered her glasses in the bedroom, so she went back inside.
Alan closed the trunk and then turned to talk to her.
"So, what do you think about . . ."
She wasn't there.
"Ellie?"
"What happened? Did she finally leave you? Good for her!" Rob said, walking up to him. Alan just stared at him, deciding that a response wasn't necessary. Rob shrugged, "So, Dr. Porter tells me that you guys are going on some exquisite weekend trip."
"Yes."
"That's not fair, you know! Why do you get to go on all the sun-filled vacations to unwind? To loosen up? To relax? To . . . uh . . . decompress?" Rob asked, raising an eyebrow in defiance.
"Because I'm the boss, Rob," he answered, trying very hard to ignore the last pointless comment.
"Well, then . . . isn't that a good point," Rob admitted, laughing and shaking his head, defeated.
"And besides, you might have been invited if you hadn't slept in," Alan reprimanded.
"I didn't sleep in. I was . . . I am," he corrected himself loudly, ". . . sick! I'm pretty sure I have the flu."
"Then why are you outside?"
"Because I'm a brave and dedicated worker, that's why."
"Oh, I see," Alan said, looking at him as if he didn't believe him.
Rob rolled his eyes and nodded. Of course Alan wouldn't buy that line of bull. Carl Porter maybe, but not Alan.
"Okay, well, I left my prescriptions here from yesterday. I needed to get them," he finally admitted. "Otherwise, I could die a horrible death."
"I'd love to stand here and talk to you all day . . . " Alan paused, "Actually, I wouldn't. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find Ellie so that we can get out of here."
"Fine, leave me here alone . . . with Carl and the tourists. I can take it," Rob said to his back, acting as if he were making a self-sacrifice of some sort.
Alan turned around.
"Good, cause that's what I'm going to do," he said, smiling.
Rob waved him off and laughed.
"I can see this isn't getting me anywhere, so I'll end with this . . . " Rob began.
Alan sighed, waiting for the long-winded speech that was sure to come from his longtime friend.
"Have fun and be careful."
"That's it?" Alan asked with a surprised shock on his face.
"Yep."
"Wow," Alan said softly.
"Hey, I'm sick. That's all I'm in the mood for. Unless you want me to go on?"
"Uh, no thanks. That was beautiful the way it was."
Rob smiled and walked toward his truck, jingling the prescription bottle in his hand.
"See you guys when you get back," he said as he continued to walk away.
"Yeah," Alan said.
Smiling, he walked back into the trailer in search of Ellie. As he walked through, Alan found her glasses sitting on the end table by the age-old couch. He picked them up and continued to look for her, finding her in the bedroom. She had obviously been searching for something, so he cleared his throat trying to grab her attention. She turned around and smiled at him, when she saw that he was holding up her glasses.
"Looking for something?" he asked.
"No. Not anymore," she said, as she took them from his hand and put them on.
She walked over to the other side of the bed, to turn the radio off, but then stopped as the next song began to play. It was "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" by the Shirelles. The song had a deep meaning to her, as it was playing the first time she had almost kissed him, two summers ago. The song continued, as she looked toward Alan. It was obvious to her that he had made the song connection, too, just by the way he was looking at her.
"Have I told you lately that those glasses make you look very sexy and intelligent?" he asked, smiling.
"Not lately, no."
"Well, those glasses make-"
Ellie quickly reached for him, kissing him on the lips, instantly cutting off what he was saying. It would have been very easy to get caught up in the moment, but Alan forced his lips away from hers.
"We're going to be late."
Hammond had actually tried very hard to get them to accompany him right then and there, but Alan had nicely declined, since he needed to get things in order before going.
"Being fashionably late is looked upon as good now."
"Oh, I'm sure it is," he said, in a joking manner.
"It's the 90's, Alan. Catch up with the times."
She kissed him again, edging him ever so slightly toward the bed. She knew he was right and that they really should be going, but the passion of the moment overpowered her sensibility. She was pleased to see that he was having the same problem, as it was getting easier and easier to get him to move backward.
"Ellie, we really should-"
"For once, could you not be so sensible?" She asked.
Before he could say another word, she had gotten him all the way to the bed now and was gently pushing him onto it. Seconds later, she was kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt. He placed a hand under her chin and directed her awaiting lips to his and they passionately kissed once more. In the heat of the moment, it didn't take him long to realize that being irresponsible and shutting up was, in fact, a very good idea.
John Hammond could wait.
THE END
Author's Note:
Well, if you made it this far . . . I sincerely thank you for taking the time to read the story. I enjoy to write very much, and it's always great when there are people willing to read what I write. So, thanks for the comments along the way! I really do appreciate it.
Also, I've got a few supplemental chapters planned for the near future. I'd like to take a closer look at Alan and Ellie's breakup, which happened sometime between the first and third Jurassic Park movies. And also, their impending marriage at some unnamed date in the future. So look for those as well!
Thanks again and please don't forget to comment. It only takes a second of your time and those few seconds have the opportunity to make this writer very happy. :)
-yvonne