Raising Rufus Part 17

He had told Audrey his plan, and to his surprise, she hadn't asked a lot of annoying questions or tried to point out all the flaws. He was glad to know she was as committed to freeing Rufus as he was.

"So, which building?" she asked in a hushed voice.

He pointed to a dull gray structure, about the size of a two-car garage, that was right next to the fence, away from the main building. It was used to store tools, lawn equipment, restaurant supplies, and whatever else might need a home from time to time. At the moment, it was also home to a seven-foot-tall tyrannosaur. At least, that was what Martin a.s.sumed from having overheard Mr. Fairfield talking to his dad.

"So you can get the key for that, right?" Audrey said. She was referring to the roll-up gate that filled the front wall of the storage shed, secured by what looked like a giant padlock.

"Yeah...but I'm kinda more worried about him."

Yes, "him" was going to be a problem. The night guard, a pudgy, unshaven guy named Ollie Thwait, was sitting right next to the shed gate underneath a lonely floodlight mounted on the corner of the building, deeply absorbed in some phone app game.

"He doesn't usually stay in one spot like that. They must've told him to stay there."

"Uch.... So what do we do?"

"We need to get him away from there."

"Okay.... How?"

Martin chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then stood up and started tiptoeing down the ridge. He motioned to Audrey, and she followed.

They worked their way along the outside of the chain-link fence, well beyond the storage shed, until they reached a gravel driveway that led to a wheeled gate that rolled open to allow service vehicles in and out. It was locked and chained, but that didn't slow Martin down; he dropped to the ground and slithered through the narrow opening under the gate next to the wheels.

As he emerged on the other side, Audrey looked at him with a blank expression.

"You're as skinny as me," he half whispered. "Come on."

She gave a tiny shrug, then dropped down and slipped underneath the gate as easily as Martin had. They followed the narrow pathway between the fence and the main building until they reached a small window, which Martin pushed open.

Climbing through the window, they found themselves in the kitchen of the Heart o' the Woods restaurant. As Audrey followed Martin into the dining area, she couldn't help slowing down to check out the odd sight of a line of fishing poles leaning against the wall. He motioned to her to hurry up, and they made their way into the eerily dark and deserted main hall.

"I can't see," she whispered.

"Just follow me."

He led her to a secluded corner and flipped on a few light switches; enough fixtures went on for them to see their way around a bit better.

"Just go to all those booths and look for the 'on' switch," Martin said. "But don't flip 'em yet. I'll be right back."

"Okay," she said nervously as he slipped away. "Wait a minute, how do I- Martin?" Too late. He was well on his way.

He dashed over into a short hallway and stepped inside Mr. Fairfield's office. Having done some cleaning in there many times before, he knew exactly where to go: a key box on the wall just next to the door.

He threw open the box and gaped at the keys hanging on hooks. He didn't remember there being quite so many-there were at least fifteen or twenty. Not knowing which one was which, he just grabbed the whole bunch and stuffed them in his pockets.

As he ran back out into the main hall, keys jangling, he spotted Audrey across the way, examining the U-Bag-Em game. He trotted over and pointed out the big red Start b.u.t.ton.

"This one."

"Ah. Right. You got the keys?"

"Yeah. So just start with this one and do the same thing on all these."

"Okay..."

She looked a little unsure, so he led her over to a ring-toss booth next to a small alcove and showed her the b.u.t.ton.

"See? Easy."

"Okay. Got it."

"When I go, count to a hundred, then just start flipping as many as you can. But do it fast, and then get out."

She threw him a wry look. "Really? I was hoping to get caught."

Suddenly, there was a high-pitched shriek, and they nearly jumped out of their shoes. Rigid and wide-eyed, they looked into the alcove-and saw that they had just awakened the furry inhabitants of the muskrat cages. Breathing easier, they shared an unsteady smile.

"Meet me back at the service gate," Martin said with back-to-business seriousness.

"Okay," Audrey said, and swallowed hard.

"See ya."

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi..."

As he sprinted back over toward the restaurant, he couldn't shake the thought that he was in way over his head with this crazy scheme and they'd both end up in juvenile hall. But there was a battlefield general in his head, telling him to keep pushing, pushing, pushing the whole thing forward.

He raced through the dining area, scampered into the kitchen, and climbed back outside through the open window. As he ran along the fence back toward the storage shed, he had to grab onto his pants pockets tightly to keep the keys from making an unholy racket. He knew he must have looked pretty dorky running like that, but right now that was last on his list of concerns.

As he neared the storage shed, he slipped behind a propane tank and peeked out at Ollie, still parked in his chair right next to the rolling gate in the front of the shed. It was pretty clear that it was going to take a lot to move him out of there.

Martin stooped low behind the tank, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Two minutes went by, then three, then four. What was taking so long? Maybe Audrey couldn't find the switches. Or maybe she had, but it was too far away for Ollie to see or hear. Or maybe-Jasper!

He had completely forgotten about Jasper. He was the other night guard, and if he was anywhere near the Trout Palace building, Audrey could get caught, the whole plan would go down the drain, and the next stop for both of them would be the county lockup.

Martin's heart was beating a mile a minute. He gripped his key-laden pockets tightly with his sweating palms, his anxiety burning hotter and hotter. He felt like he might faint any second. Then...

Ollie quickly stood up and looked over toward the main building. He picked up a walkie-talkie and put it to his mouth.

"Jasper.... Jasper."

Martin held his breath as Ollie waited a moment, then pushed the Talk b.u.t.ton again.

"Jasper."

After a long pause, a crackly voice came on. "What's up, Ollie?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the can. What do you want?"

"Did you just turn on some lights in the Palace?"

"I just finished telling you. I'm in the can."

"You need to get your b.u.t.t in there right now. Somebody went in."

"Uhhhh, that's gonna be a negative."

"What do you mean, a negative?"

"I'm gonna be in here a while. I think I ate some bad cheese fries."

Ollie gave a m.u.f.fled growl and looked for a moment like he might fling the walkie-talkie at the wall. Then he froze, hearing something. It was pretty faint, but Martin and Ollie both recognized it right away-a deep voice delivering a familiar refrain: "Ho ho ho ho! Welcome to the Trout Palace! Thirty acres of pure Wisconsin fun..."

Martin never thought he would be so happy to hear that ridiculous talking fish. Ollie, though, was not happy at all. He muttered a few curses and kicked a clod of dirt. He obviously wanted to head for the Palace, but the storage shed was holding him there like a magnet. Mr. Fairfield must have given him firm orders not to move from that spot no matter what.

But after a bit, the commotion in the main building was too much to let go. Ollie let out a throaty grumble and darted off to see what was going on.

Martin waited until he couldn't hear the footsteps, counted to five, then dashed over to Ollie's post at the rolling shed gate and pulled out a handful of keys to try in the padlock. But when he looked down at the lock, his heart skipped a beat. No keyhole-it was a combination lock!

Exhaling heavily, he started pacing around like an ornery lion in a cage. Now what? If he couldn't think of a quick way into that shed...

All of a sudden, it dawned on him: there was a back door! He'd seen his dad go in there once but had forgotten all about it.

He raced around to the back of the building and went straight up to the narrow door in the center of the wall. It didn't surprise him to find it locked, but that didn't worry him too much, since he was the Master of the Keys.

He pulled out the keys and tried them, one by one. Not that one...Nope, not this one...Most of these don't even go in.

His spirits started to sink as he got down to the last key. He held it up right in front of his nose and gritted his teeth.

"Come on, come on," he whispered intensely, as though he could make it fit by sheer will. Then he pushed the key against the slot.

No go: it wouldn't even slide in.

Martin let out a groan and looked all around, scouring his brain for an idea. He spotted a pile of metal scaffolding pieces neatly stacked against the shed wall and immediately knew what he had to do. He picked up a cross brace, jammed the flat end into the doorjamb, and pried with all his might.

Being a scrawny kid had never been a picnic for Martin, but right now his gangly body and pencil arms were his worst enemy. Though he pushed and pried with everything he had, the blasted door wouldn't budge. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, and his legs started shaking from the strain. But he kept on pulling.

Suddenly, his mind flashed to that horrible sight from his dream-the bright lights, the deafening music, the teeming crowd-and poor Rufus, straining against the heavy chains as his heartless keepers shot thousands of volts through him.

As though all that energy were now surging into his own body, Martin let out a fierce growl and gave one mighty heave worthy of a linebacker. Crack! The jamb splintered and the door popped open.

He rushed inside the shed and flipped on the light-and what he saw in the middle of the hard cement floor made him sick to his stomach. Rufus was lying there on his side, tightly wrapped from head to toe in a heavy tarp. He couldn't see, and he couldn't move.

"Rufus!" Martin exclaimed. "Oh, man..." Hearing his friend's voice, Rufus grunted and squirmed excitedly.

"Shhhh, keep still."

Martin wasn't sure how much time he had left, but he wasted none of it in untying the st.u.r.dy cords that held the tarp snugly around Rufus. He quickly got the tarp loose enough for his big friend to wriggle out and scramble to his feet. Thrilled to be free again, he bobbed and danced like a sprightly parakeet, slowing down just long enough to slap his long, clammy tongue across Martin's neck. Martin smiled and gave him a quick hug.

"Okay, okay. C'mon, we've gotta go!"

He rushed out the back door, and Rufus followed-but stopped short of the door. The big dino swayed back and forth nervously.

"What's the matter? Come on!"

Rufus still wouldn't move forward, so Martin pretended to run off into the night without him. That did the trick: Rufus lowered his head and lunged forward through the doorway. But the reason he had hesitated instantly became clear.

It was a very narrow door, and Rufus wasn't just a puny little lizard anymore. Whoomp! He got himself lodged firmly in the doorjamb. He kicked and thrashed, but he was really stuck in there tight. Martin tried to pull him through, but there was no way to get a good grip. So he squirmed underneath Rufus back into the shed and started pushing.

Even in the best of conditions, moving a four-hundred-pound dinosaur through a two-foot-wide door is no stroll in the park. And Martin knew two things: (1) they had very little time, and (2) they were making way too much noise. But he also knew that failure was out of the question. So he pushed and pushed, his face turning purple and his eyes bugging out, as Rufus kept pedaling away against the slippery floor. But he would not budge.

Panting hard, Martin looked all around the shed. He noticed a bunch of restaurant supplies in a corner and raced over to have a closer look. Right there on a shelf, glowing like gold, were several big plastic jugs of cooking oil.

He grabbed a jug, hauled it over to Rufus, and got right to work. On most days he would have had a very tough time lifting a heavy thing like that, but right now he was running on high adrenaline; he skillfully hoisted it up onto his shoulder and poured the oil right over the stubborn spot where wood met dino skin.

He ran around and did the same on the other side, then skittered back behind Rufus for another push. Again Rufus pedaled his feet, and again Martin shoved with everything he had.

"Come on, come on..."

Still, no forward motion was happening.

Martin jumped up on Rufus's back and whispered intensely in his ear cavity.

"You have to do this, Rufus. It's your only chance. They're gonna chain you up and zap you and make you dance in front of a whole bunch of grubby tourists. I know you can do it, boy. Please, just do it. Push. Push!"

All of a sudden Rufus let out a loud bark and gave a mighty lurch forward-and squotch! He squirted free, stumbling out into the great outdoors. Martin fell off him onto the gra.s.s and rolled over onto his knees.

"Yeah! You did it, buddy! Woo-hoo!"

When he heard his voice echo back to him from the woods, he winced. Too loud!

"Let's go!" he half whispered.

Rufus followed Martin along the fence toward the back of the main building, letting out a braying noise as they ran.

"Shhhhhh!" Martin cautioned.

They quickly made it to the service gate-but there was no sign of Audrey.

Now his worst fears started rearing up again. Maybe she had gotten lost in there and couldn't find her way back. Or maybe-he tried not to entertain the thought, but it kept b.u.t.ting in-maybe she got caught. Aaacch! Martin knew he would have to go in and find out.

He went over to the restaurant kitchen window, took a deep breath, and started to climb in-when Audrey suddenly appeared on the other side, startling him.

"Hoh!"

"Sorry. All right! You got him!" she said brightly as she climbed out. "Hiya, Rufus!"