Micro Narratives

Saving Iggy

It was one of the days we were playing around the construction site when our house was being built. The foundations had been dug and many of the walls were up and I was bounding along a long, narrow trench that had been dug. I am vaguely aware of a loud din in the background, which I assume to be the men working. 

I am walking along the edge of the narrow trench, maybe four three feet deep and a foot and a half wide, trying to balance on the edge as closely as I can without falling. 

As I walk along the edge of the trench I notice something inside. It looks like a rock, but is shuffling slightly. I take a closer look and scaly, flat feet protrude out of it. A baby desert tortoise! 

I run and tell my mother of my discovery. She says 'that's nice' but does not give any more heed to the matter, she is busy talking with the foreman. I ask her what the trench is for, the foreman looks down at me, smiling, and says that it is about to be filled in with concrete for the edge of the driveway. Mortified (and sure that I am running against time), I sprint back to the trench, find the tortoise, and pull it out. I show it to my mother, and we name it Iggy. We call the Sonoran Desert Museum where one of their scientists (I assumed) told us what to feed him for the night and that someone would take the tortoise to a safe place. The next morning the scientist comes by, thanks us, collects the tortoise and leaves.

Paleontology

Robert Bakker was my favorite paleontologist. He wrote a book defending the Tyrannosaurus Rex, describing in detail his theories of dinosaur evolution and the stratigraphy defending it. My family takes a trip to St. George, our old family home, shortly thereafter and while there learns that old family friends, the Johnsons, had discovered some dinosaur tracks while plowing an old field. We went to the site and discovered the makeshift tent the University of Utah had erected around the tracks, which were amazingly well preserved. 

I look around with great interest, asking a staff member to see the Paleontologist. He comes over to me and I immediately begin bombarding him with relatively advanced questions. He asks if I would like to see something cool. He leads me behind the caution tape to a large box, instructing two staff members to lift the lid. A three-toed footprint is perfectly preserved, you can even see where the mud squelched between the toes. He points to the side of the print, asking what I can see. Its a skin imprint, extraordinarily rare. My mouth drops open as I reply and he asks me to look closer. I bend down and see large, hollow bumps amid the scaly pattern. 

He asks me what I think they are. "Feathers", I say. He nods and smiles.