Non-fiction / Hunting Dinosaurs
Hunting Dinosaurs
By Neil Cotter
CHAPTER 1
August, 1970
Damn is it hot! Even my cut off shorts felt too hot. I turned and looked at the old battered alarm clock on the nightstand. 9:30. It’s only 9:30 and the place is like an oven already. There was no air conditioning, just some contraption we called an air cooler. Several times a night you cold fill a reservoir on top with cool water that would trickle down over a metal grid and the fan from behind it would cool the air somewhat. It probably would have worked better with a big chunk of ice on it but we were lucky to have an occasional ice cube for a drink let alone a big chunk of ice. I could hear people having a heated discussion about something out front. It just looks like I’ll never get to sleep in.
I made my way to the fridge hoping there might be something to eat. I knew there wasn’t but I thought I’d check anyway in case the food fairy had dropped off some fresh eggs, bacon and orange juice. I was not surprised. Let’s see, a half a stick of butter, some water in a glass milk bottle, “something” in an old margarine tub and some ketchup. Um, mm. I just grabbed the water; I almost never ate breakfast anyway. I followed the sound of the escalating debate to the front porch. The small porch was cooler and darker than the rest of the small house. Like a polar opposite, the back was uninhabitable after about 9 AM this time of year because of a southern exposure to the sun. Nothing even grew out back. It was as dead as the lunar landscape.
Both of my brothers, Willy and Shawn were there with Crawford. Crawford was one of those guys who was blessed with great genetics. Natural muscle tone, hair that lightened and skin that darkened from the same sun that burned my brothers and I to a crisp if we exposed too much of ourselves for too long.
“Bullshit” Willy snapped.
“Let’s just hear him out.” Shawn said.
What’s up? I wanted to know.
“Jerk off here says he seen it, TODAY” My brother Willy has a way of berating a person without even speaking directly to him. Shawn tried to diffuse the situation by getting more information, “Closer to the bridge or the woods? Crawford was more comfortable speaking to Shawn. “The woods. But it was in the middle of the swamp.” He might as well said it was on another continent. The swamp was so thick even if you had a boat, which we didn’t, you couldn’t quietly get in a position to make a grab. I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page, “Are we talking about Boley?” Crawford looked right at me, that’s how I knew he was telling the truth “It was huge man, just friggen huge.”
Boley is a legend in these parts like Bigfoot or The Jersey Devil. It was some kind of reptilian throwback or possibly a survivor of the Mesozoic era. Size estimates from eye witnesses put the creature at anywhere from as little as a foot to over six feet weighing hundred of pounds. I wanted to see it for myself, more than that, I wanted to catch it. It was my ticket to fame and fortune if I could catch something that was real. Those guys who had been hunting Nessy in Loch Ness, Scotland would take grant money from universities almost tongue in cheek and cruise around looking for something they knew and more importantly the rest of the world knew wasn’t there. They were laughing all the way to the bank the whole time making mortgage and car payments on somebody else’s money. We had no funding, zero, zip, zilch, nada. Except that is for Eddie.
“Where’s Eddie?” I asked. “How the hell should I know, what do I look like his mother?” Willy was always cranky in the morning. Eddie was the closest thing we had to a money man. If we needed something to pull off a hunt, Eddie either had it or the money to buy it. Even if you didn’t need anything at all you had to include Eddie or the next time you did need something that door would be closed. I grabbed my shoes and a T-shirt. Did you tell anybody else? I asked Crawford.
“No, I knew to come here first.”
Good, let’s go. I pushed my way through the empty screen door frame. The screen on top and aluminum panel below had long ago been removed or otherwise trashed and just the frame swung on the hinges. Somebody was going to fix it some day, but for now it was just an obstacle. As soon as I was outside the shade of the porch I felt like I was making a mistake. It’s going to be like 200 degrees today.
Eddies place was like a compound. It was surrounded by an eight foot high chain link fence with white and green aluminum privacy panels that gave it a basket weave look. If you happened to pass by in a vehicle you could actually see right through it but standing more than a few feet away you couldn’t see anything clearly.
“See if he’s in there” I said to Shawn. “Yo, Eddie!” He shouted. I looked through the gap where the chain link meets the upright galvanized poles. Eddie was staring straight up into the sky floating in a huge tire tube in the middle of his “L” shaped in ground swimming pool with a big pair of women’s white framed sunglasses on and a red plastic cup full of something with a lot of ice in it. He was bobbing in and out of the shade of the Florida room that filled the rest of the compound. “Crawford says he saw Boley.” Eddie pushed himself up on one arm in the tube, “Bullshit!”
He’s right here, ask him for yourself. Eddie didn’t have to ask. He knew if Crawford said it, it was so. Eddie fumbled and thrashed his way to the side of the pool and headed for the house. “Don’t go anywhere without Me.” he yelled on his way into the Florida room. We went around to the front of his place and waited. We didn’t have to wait long. Eddie came bounding out the front door looking like something from a SEARs catalog. Bright white tennis shoes and socks, white shorts and a white polo shirt with light blue horizontal stripes tucked neatly into his shorts. There was a stunned silence.
“What the hell are you made up for?” Willy jabbed.
“Don’t break my balls, let’s just go.”
Willy fired the next salvo, “Tennis anyone?”
“Stop”
Willy yelled, “FORE”
Eddie started to chase him, Willy laughed and stayed just out of arms reach.
Asshole, Eddy spat.
We couldn’t have been much closer to the swamp. That’s what gave us an edge over other parties that forayed into it. In less than 20 minutes we were standing at the exact spot where Crawford claimed to have seen Boley from.
The swamp itself wasn’t all that impressive as swamps go. It was about 100 feet across and maybe a mile long, one end fed by a fresh water stream and the other end dumping into a creek that emptied out in the bay making the water brackish or a mix of fresh and salt water. You never knew what the hell you would find in the swamp. The swamps vegetation consisted of swamp grass and cat tails or “punks” as we called them. You could dry a punk for a couple days in the sun and light it like a big cigar and it would keep mosquitoes at bay for upwards of an hour even on the darkest of nights.
The water in the middle of the swamp was black and almost stagnant except for the tidal level that changed when the salt water backed up the creek from the bay. There was a small spit of land that protruded almost half way across the middle of the swamp leaving water on three sides when you stood at the end of it. You could see large salt water fish swimming with fresh water guppies. Occasional you’d see a turtle or some kind of crane flying by but mostly it was dragon flies and the small birds that fed on them.
The swamp was absolutely still today. Not a sound. It was creepy by any standards Their was a story people told about some girl who had for some reason waded out into the middle of the widest part of the swamp and just sunk. Never to be seen again. We had surmised that there was quicksand just below the surface of the black water and we never went into the swamp without somebody there preferably with a rope.
Crawford pointed to the exact location where he claimed Boley had been basking a little over an hour before. The water was like a sheet of glass. So smooth the punks looked like sticks with matching tops and bottoms hovering on the waters surface. There were some dragon flies but they were flying above the punks rather than skimming the water like they usually do. The only thing occasional breaking the otherwise flat surface of the water were these little insects that look like row boats under water.
This is the way we like it, nothing can hide. The water tells you instantly where and more importantly what is moving and in what direction.
“It was right there” Crawford pointed. We all looked directly at the surrounding area for tracks or broken vegetation. Nothing! Shawn was already making his way around to the far side of the swamp. Willy started right in on Crawford, “Oh my Gawd, I never seen nutin like it. It horrible!”
“I’m telling ya, I seen it” Will stopped short his gaze suddenly fixed at some far off point. He grabbed behind him for Eddy and Crawford. “What?” Eddie said. “What is it?” said Crawford struggling to see what Willy was seeing. We all stopped and waited to see what Willy was looking at. Willy slowly pointed a finger across the widest part of the swamp, “Do you see it?” he said in almost a whisper. “Where?” Eddie asked craning his neck left and then right. “It’s right there, don’t you see it?”
“I ‘m not seeing anything Willy.” Crawford added. Now Shawn could see us staring in his general direction on the other side of the swamp and took up a statue like stance just moving his eyes as to not spook whatever quarry we had spotted.
Willy grabbed Eddie and Crawford and pushed them slightly in front of him. He pointed his arm between them at whatever he was trying to show them.
“You see that big clump of grass right there?”
“Yeh.”
“Now look up, about 50 feet.”
“Up?”
Yeh look, it’s the friggen Easter bunny with Santa on his way over t the Jolly Green Giants house for some green beans ya friggen morons.
Asshole!……
Just about the time we figured we had been duped once again by another Boley story, we noticed Shawn still hadn’t moved from his vantage point on the other side of the swamp a little ways up the bank maybe 4 or 5 feet above the water. He put his finger up to his lips for us to be quiet and began moving real slow towards the waters edge. The particular area he was at was almost devoid of vegetation and in places you could see the bottom of the swamp where it was shallow. We all started moving to set up a perimeter on either side of the swamp. Eddie stayed on the end of the land spit. Crawford moved to where the shore met the land spit. Willy and I continued east to the ocean end of the swamp. Shawn was pointing where he wanted us to stop. When we got to the right spot he’d give us the OK sign with his fingers. Willy took up a position on this spot then I continued moving to the bridge or rather where the bridge had been. The bridge was nothing more than a few concrete sewer pipes laid side by side at a narrow point in the swamp and covered with dirt making it possible to cross that section of swamp with out going all the way to the ocean.
Almost as soon as I got to the middle of the bridge something big moved in the water by Shawns spot just to my right. I could make out the shape of a fast moving body under the water. Just then a large fresh water fish jumped about a foot out of the water totally obscuring our view of the bottom. Whatever it was it was big and it was moving toward Eddie on the land spit in the middle of the swamp. Shawn was pointing franticly at the water in front of Eddie while trying not to make a sound. I started making my way back towards Eddies spot grabbing Willy and Crawford along the way. Eddie looked terrified. All Shawn could do was watch. Slowly the water returned to its glass like surface. “Aw shit, I didn’t even get to see it.” Willy said. “It’s because you’re a non-believer” I said.
I glanced over at Eddie; he looked like he was going to scream. Just then the water lurched upward, dome shaped at first then taking on the shape of this huge pair of green eyes with eyelids that opened from front to back rather than up and down. Air escaped from it’s nostrils with a whoosh. Jesus Christ, Boley was real! It’s back was to Eddie. He was no more than three feet away from it. He was looking at us like he wanted help but we were all too far away and he knew it. Eddie was on his own. We kept moving in Eddies general direction until we could see Boley clearly. I was kicking myself in the ass for not bringing the net. The swamp made it difficult to use the net but it would have been perfect for this grab. Eddie held his hand up signaling all of us to stop and we froze in our tracks. He slowly moved to the waters edge closing the distance between himself and Boley . Eddie knew the only vantage point he had was from directly behind Boleys head where he could not see. As Eddie got closer, he got lower to the water slipping his hand into the water, knifelike like a diver. Eddie was almost on his stomach at this point with one arm straight down into the water up to his elbow and the other reaching for a reptilian extremity. Boley either caught something in his field of vision or sensed Eddies hand in the water and submerged with a plunk. Eddie reached as Boleis entire body lunged out of the water away from Eddie towards the deep end of the swamp. I t was hard to tell what happened There was a giant explosion of water and Eddie’s was gone. A second later Eddie broke the surface of the water scrambling back up the bank dragging something huge. He was on his hands and knees sinking in the black mud and we were all on the way to help. Just as we got out to where Eddie was he pushed himself up onto his knees on the land spit and dragged his catch from behind him, one handed with a death grip on one hind leg of Boley holding it up in front of him. Over a foot long and maybe a couple pounds, this was the biggest bull frog any of us had ever seen. The fact that Eddie was only about four feet on his tip toes and now he was on his knees sinking in the mud made the frog look even bigger. We were all whooping and hollering at him completely consumed by the moment. Eddie was making that face a person has when they just found out somebody very close has died. A big open mouthed frown , lower lip quivering and not a sound coming out. We thought he must have been hurt during the grab. Maybe Boely had bitten him. We knew Bull Frogs were carnivorous, maybe one this big could take a bite out of you. He was still in control of himself long enough to hand Boley to Crawford. Then he held his hands up to the sky and screamed OHHHHHH AHHHHHHAAAAA, MY MOTHER’S GONNA KILL ME…….
Yup, he sure screwed that snappy set of duds up alright. And Eddie was right, his mother was gonna kill him. “Hey Eddie, can we have the frog?”
“Assholes!”
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Entertaining story. I was wondering all through it – is this really non-fiction? Coming to the end, I realized it no doubt is. Very creatively written though, with smooth flow and nice tension.
There are grammar issues you probably want to straighten out, though. In quite a few places, you left out the apostrophe in a possessive name (ie, “Eddies place” – should be Eddie’s place). In referring to Boley, however, you mention “It’s nostrils” and “It’s back” – those should be Its. I also spotted a couple of compound modifiers which should have been hyphenated: cut-off shorts and in-ground swimming pool. Tongue in cheek also should have been hyphenated (‘tongue-in-cheek’). I’ll also point out that in the first paragraph, where you mention the time of day: when you start a sentence with a number, it should be spelled: Nine-thirty. The next sentence, “It’s only 9:30” is fine.
So just a little editing/polishing is called for, I think. Once that’s done, you’ll have quite the amusing little story. Good luck!
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This had some pretty funny stuff in it.
Here are my notes to improve on:
You could just say “battered” instead of “old battered”
Sometimes you spell out numbers and sometimes you write them as #’s like: Nine thirty. It’s only 9:30
was
Because of the word “is” in the first line, I didn’t realize this was past tense. Then I realized the confusion was probably because there should probably be quotes around dialogue even when the main character is speaking. That would be less confusing.
Sometimes there are repeats of words too close together like: some some some
and
swamp, swamp, swamp
You really piqued my interest with Boley.
Delete the word “from” in the sentence: “claimed to have seen Boley from.”
There are other times you could go through this line by line and delete an un-needed word like deleting the word “up” in: “He put his finger up to his lips”
This sentence was awkward: “knifelike like a diver.”
Break up some of the paragraphs in order to add punch to the important lines like: ”There was a giant explosion of water and Eddie’s was gone.”
Let me know earlier in the story that Eddie is short.
Keep it up!
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I like your storyline as well as your character development. All the information flowed together so nice.
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I had so much fun on this read; I spent my good ol’ sweet time with it, as the tone seemed to lead. Straight off, I believe the title targets a certain population. Unless that is intentional I think “Hunting Boley” or “Hunting For Boley” would intice a more general public viewing.
I begin with the first passage. “It is” takes away the impact. “Damn! It’s hot!” Boom. ”Even my cut offs [shorts] felt hot.” I believe that the lead in needs to be strong and hook the reader; any unnecessary ‘softening’ detracts.
Without alot of nitpicking, permit me to illustrate what I believe would assist in polishing the following passage:
“TURNING, I LOOK AT THE OLD BATTERED ALARM CLOCK ON THE NIGHTSTAND. NINE THIRTY AND THE PLACE IS LIKE AN OVEN. THE CONTRAPTION WE CALL AN AIR COOLER WAS NO AIR CONDITIONER. YOU HAD TO FILL A RESERVOIR ON TOP WITH COOL WATER SEVERAL TIMES A NIGHT; IT WOULD TRICKLE DOWN OVER A METAL GRID AND THE FAN BEHIND IT WOULD COOL THE AIR SOME. IT WOULD HAVE WORKED BETTER WITH A BIG CHUNK OF ICE ON IT, BUT WE WERE LUCKY TO HAVE AN OCCASIONAL ICE CUBE , LET ALONE A BIG CHUNK. I COULD HEAR PEOPLE HAVING A HEATED discussion ABOUT SOMETHING OUT FRONT. IT LOOKS LIKE I’LL NEVER GET TO SLEEP IN.”—-I’ve inverted some of the syntax that seemed to complicate the swamp cooler.
I LOVE the second paragraph…the playfulness of the fridge search; the sound effect of ‘Um,mm’ paces the tempo at a nice clip; i feel the stride.
Once you get into the 3 GUYS AND BOLEY, It reads effortlessly…with very few exception. “I WANTED TO CATCH IT. IT WOULD BE MY TICKET TO FAME AND FORTUNE”. The parts where there is action and talking is strong and clean. The narratives get a bit muddled.
I love the detail of the screen door the exacting kind of detail that personalizes a scenario and endears the character to us…his negligence; its nagging at him.======I’d change the 200 degree remark; we need this guys’ wit but we also need to believe in his sharp instincts and insights.
Love the description of Eddie and the compound; right down to the red plastic cup. Strong characterization.
Splendid descript on the swamp. The single thing that is needed in this scenario is establishing “grounding”. For long parts of the read it was not clear to me whether the boys were in a boat, raft, or onfoot. MOVEMENTS are not described in ‘walking, running, slipping onfoot; in mud, etc’ in the beginning of the scenario.
The rest is cake. I love this playful piece. You introduced me to the characters well; took me to the swamp with them; and I fell in love with the whole piece all over again with the sweet finale`. Bravo! Sarai
As always, I love your writing! One thing to watch out for is your dialogue. There are several spots where I wondered if the character was speaking or thinking. Parts like, “Good, let’s go.” and there’s one spot where you need to add quotations, “Asshole”, Eddy spat. And one more question I had is Eddie’s in this sentence supposed to be Eddie?..”explosion of water and Eddie’s was gone”.
I would love to read Chapter Two and see what other adventures these guys have!
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