Nov 13, 2016

"The Dinosaur Fakers" - 4

"Yes," said Bernhard. "But let's not mix the Kingdom of Heaven up in this; might jinx our hunt for dino bones. (Not that they really exist.)"
Bernhard was new to the use of explosives. He was laying the charge based on "feel."
"I'd say that's about yea-right, wouldn't you?"
"How the hell should I know," said Lena.
Bernhard knelt down and lit the fuse with his cigarette.
"Run," said Bernhard.
They ran a good ways from the charge and knelt behind a boulder.
"Oh and plug your ears," said Bernhard. 

 The cliff exploded in a massive cloud of dust and debris. For several minutes a silty mix of pulverized stone and ash rained down on the two miscreants.
"On the plus side---" Bernhard began, but a long coughing fit cut him off.
"WHAT?" said Lena, who could barely hear from the ringing in her ears.
"On the plus side, it sort of blocks the sun. You know, the dense clouds of debris," said Bernhard.
"SO," said Lena, "WHERE ARE THE BONES?"
Bernhard was poking the debris around idly with one foot. An unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth.

Bernhard rushed over to see.
"What?" he said. "I don't see anything."
"No, look," said Lena, whose ears were settling down. "It's like one o' them... Whaddaya call 'em... vertobras or somet'in... You know, back bones, spinal thingies."
"Hm," said Bernhard. "You must have a good eye. Looks like a plain old rock to me."
"No, no," said Lena, puffing on her cigarette with the serene air of the great discoverer she was. "Definitely some sort of back doohickey."
"Well," said Bernhard, yawning, "I don't see anything else. Guess we can call it a day. The rest we can---you know---fake."
"Right," said Lena, expelling a big puff of smoke into the waning daylight. "We'll fake the rest."

With some difficulty, they lugged the stone into their seedy motel room and placed it on the dresser. It looked like a pagan idol of some sort. They lay on separate twin beds, looking at it, chain-smoking, exhausted.
Bernhard casually glanced in Lena's direction.
"No," said Lena. "Forget it. Not tonight."
Bernhard sighed and went into the bathroom.
"Heh-heh," chuckled Lena nastily.
The next morning though found Bernhard whistling as he groomed his oily, pencil-thin moustache. He was wondering, as he often did, if he should let the ends grow out so he could twirl it villainously. The chief consideration against this plan was that his line of work mitigated against being too showy.
Lena was in a good mood too. She was still lying in bed, smoking as always---but very contentedly.
"Forget about your moustache and work out this scam of ours," she said, reading his mind. "That's what you're so good at."
"You're good at something, too," said Bernhard.
"Heh-heh," chuckled Lena nastily, again.

"There's no time like now," said the grizzled and salty old sea captain behind the counter. Bernhard and Lena were standing in his taxidermy shop, a converted old schooner.
"How's that again," said Bernhard.
"To buy a stuffed beaver. Or pick-your-rodent. No time like the present."
"We were actually thinking more along the line of some old bones," said Bernhard.
"Anything in particular?" said the sea captain.
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," said Bernhard. "Sort of a mixed bag would be nice."
"Dino fakers, ain't ye now?" said the sea captain with a knowing twinkle in his one good eye.
Lena dropped a jar of glass eyeballs.

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