The Dinosaur Flying Contest

After a week Molly as promised purchased a fresh box of Captain Bligh cereal for Mister. Mister always read the box so by now knew the ingredients list by heart. Mister couldn’t read much English but Molly and Sampson had taught him the sound of the letters through Jungle Johnson Junior’s Little Alphabet Book and Mister could sound out the words, then Mister asked Molly what the words meant. The list he knew so well was always on the side of the orange box in small white letters below the white nutrition box.. Whole wheat flour, high fructose corn syrup, honey, breadfruit, sucrose, natural flavors, riboflavin, BHA and BHT, and non-nutritive crude fiber. Sampson had expressed skepticism that BHA and BHT were amongst the all-natural ingredients claimed by Dehli Corps Bangalore Pt., the manufacturers of Captain Bligh cereal, but Molly had read that BHA and BHT had been found in a jungle vine from New Guinea so Sampson shrugged. Whatever. Advertising was all lies anyway.

Today there was a new offer on the back. “NEW! Rainbow Realistic Dinosaurs! Childproof non-toxic plastic replicas of EARTH’s MIGHTIEST!” The bright blue brontosaurs was labeled BIGGEST!!!, the violet pterodactyl PRETTIEST!!!, a bright green ugly fish with hideous spiked teeth was WEIRDEST!!!, the orange triceratops TOUGHEST!!!, the yellow duckbill iguanadon NICEST!!!, and the red tyrannosaurus rex BADDEST!!!, purple having been excluded on the advice of the Dehli Corps Bangalore legal department. Mister was defenseless. “Mommy! Din-o-sahurs! Can we go see din-o-sahurs? Din-o-sahurs!”

“We can’t go see dinosaurs. There are no dinosaurs any more.”

Mister looked at the box. It sure looked to him like there were dinosaurs. Molly continued, “There used to be dinosaurs but there aren’t any any more. They all died in a big explosion. The biggest explosion ever! So big all the dinosaurs are all gone.” Molly knew how Mister felt about huge explosions, and sure enough Mister started making his best explosion noises.

“Kaboom! Powee! Kkkcchchchchchcka! Chchchc! Blow up all the dynasores! Whhoooohoo!,” and he made a sound like a winter wind blowing away the dinosaurs. “Were the dynasores bad?” he asked.

“Some dinosaurs were bad and some were good, just like everything else,” Molly replied.

“Were the dynasaurs big?”

“Very big. This one,” she said, pointing at the bright blue brontosaurus, “was as big as City Hall,” Molly wasn’t really sure of that, but it was close enough, “and this one,” the red tyrannosaurus, “was as tall as the clock tower.”

Mister’s eyes grew big. Molly went on.

“This one was as big as house and lived in the ocean and ate up so many of the other fish that he got thrown in jail, and this one was so nice she let him out. This one was so strong and tough he could go wherever he wanted to, and this one could fly anywhere and was so pretty that everyone liked him so he was everybody’s friend.”

“Whoe,” said Mister. Mister finished reading the box all the way down to the tiny “Dehli Corps Bangalore is not liable for any and all damages ensuing from purchase, use, or lack thereof of these promotional items and asserts that said items are completely unfit for any and all purposes and no fun to play with” disclaimer, then started to eat, staring raptly at the colorful dinosaur images. Mister sure liked those dinosaurs. “Would you like to play with those dinosaurs?” Molly asked. Mister nodded yes with his usual enthusiasm. Molly got the scissors and carefully cut out the dinosaurs from the cardboard box, telling Mister the name of each one and leaving on the label of WEIRDEST!!! or whatever so Mister could learn the words. “The dinosaurs all lived together in a cave,” Molly said. She cut away along the seams to turn the gray inside of the box out so it would be a cave, folding the box and hooking the cardboard so the cave would stay together. The box turned into a cave where the dinosaurs could live. The face of Captain Bligh on the inside didn’t really fit, but in the unlikely case that Mister asked about it Molly could always say it was a cave painting by cave people who ran away scared from the huge dinosaurs.

Mister finished his breakfast and leaned over the table. “This one could fly.” Mister grabbed the violet pterodactyl and threw it. It flew chaotically and fluttered to the ground, denting a corner into an accordion shape.

“No throwing in the house, Mr. Mister Sioux, you know the rules. No more dinosaurs today. All the dinosaurs are going into the cave to get a rest and you are going outside.” Molly dressed Mister for the cold and sent him out of play in the snow with the other kids. Joey knew all about the dinosaurs. “I’ve already got twelve dynasores,” he said. “We sent away twice.”

“I’ve got six dinosaurs,” said Mister, “and one can fly.”

“Any dynasore can fly if you throw it.” rejoined Joey.

“I mean really fly. It’s got wings.”

“It can’t really fly, you have to throw it.”

Being outnumbered in the dinosaur department, Mister rashly claimed, “It can so really fly!”

“No it can’t. You threw it.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did,” and so on in the time-honored manner. Finally Joey demanded proof.

“Let’s see your dynasore fly.”

“My Mom won’t let me play with the dinosaurs until tomorrow.”

“Hah!” Joey didn’t believe it. “We can play with my dynosores.”

The two boys went over to Joey’s house. Joey’s Mom had ordered two sets of Captain Bligh dinosaurs and they were all in a pile in the corner. “That’s stupid, they don’t live like that,” Mister commented. “Dinosaurs live in a cave.”

“There’s no cave. They didn’t come with a cave,” Joey came back.

“Dinosaurs have a cave. They live together and keep each other warm in the cave.”

“There’s no cave. That’s dumb.”

“It isn’t dumb, you’re dumb,” challenged Mister.

“I’m not dumb, you’re dumb.”

“Am not.”

“Am so.”

“My dinosaurs can beat your dinosaurs,” rashly promised Mister Sioux.

“Can not.”

“Can so.”

“Can not.”

“Can so.”

“Show me.” Joey challenged.

“My Mom’s got the dinosaurs until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow show me.”

“You’ll forget.”

“Will not.”

“Will so.”

“Not.”

“So.”

“I’m tired of playing with stupid dinosaurs,” Mister fibbed. The snow from their boots had melted into a muddy slush that neither boy thought anything of, but they were ready for another round of snow angels and snowballs and off they went.

The next day Mister awoke with the sun and remembered the dinosaurs. Off to the parent’s bedroom and open the door to find Sampson and Molly both asleep. Mister knew that the dinosaurs were in their cave on the top shelf in the pantry, where Mom always kept the forbidden stuff. Mister didn’t want to wake his parents. Mister pulled on some pants under his nightshirt to ward off the cold then went down to the pantry. Mister could see the gray cardboard corner of the cave peeking out from the top shelf. Mister had an idea. Molly used the old green chair to reach the top shelf. Mister dragged the shivering chair over below and climbed onto the seat. Still too far. The back of the green chair had rungs. Mister started to climb them but could feel the chair about to tip over. Mister had another idea. He turned the chair sideways so he could climb the rungs and grab the lowest shelf at the same time. But when Mister put a foot on the lower shelf

the chair rocked and Mister fell onto the seat. Mister had another idea. He faced the chair away from the shelf, climbed onto the seat then around to the back He could reach out to the lowest shelf then step to it without the chair tipping over. So far so good. Mister grasped the next shelf. It was only waist high and Mister wasn’t strong enough to get over the overhang and grabbing around something waist high didn’t work very well. Mister stepped onto the top of the back of the green chair. It felt OK. He still couldn’t quite reach the cardboard so he stood on tiptoe, one foot on the chair back and other on the lower shelf. Still no go. There was about a half an inch left. So close, but Mister didn’t dare jump for it. The green chair was creaking ominously as it was.

Mister reversed his climb to get back on the floor. So close. His bare feet were cold anyway. This gave Mister another idea. He ran up the stairs to his bedroom and got his PX Flyers. They had special thick rubber soles for jumping. Mister wasn’t going to jump: he had another purpose in mind. On go the shoes. Mister ran for the door and tripped flat on his face: he hadn’t learned to tie shoes yet. Mom or Dad always did it, and now Mister had tripped on the loose shoe laces. Mister wadded up the laces and jammed them into the shoes. It wasn’t comfortable but it was good enough, and back down to the pantry. He got back on the shelf but it was no good. The shoes were too loose and Mister didn’t dare step on the top of the chair back this time. Mister descended to the floor. Now what?

It was Saturday and Sampson always slept in. Mom wouldn’t be up for who knows how long. Hmm. Tying shoes, how hard can that be? Mister pulled the laces tight so they felt good, then tangled up the laces as best he could. It seemed good enough. It only had to hold for a minute. Mister raised his right foot to get back on the green chair and start his climb but his foot wouldn’t move: he was standing on the laces again. He wadded the extra laces up and crammed them into the shoe. Then up to the seat of the green chair, around to the back, grab the shelf, foot on the shelf, up the rungs, grab the next shelf, foot on top of the green chair, tiptoe, YES!, he had the corner of the cardboard cave, pull the cave out and they all come fluttering down, downclimb and gather up the cardboard dinosaurs. The cave had collapsed during the fall and Mister couldn’t figure out how to fold it so it would stand up, but he had managed to scrape three of the six dinosaurs off the shelf by pulling on the cave, that was the main thing. It had worked.

Mister took the dinosaurs and collapsed cave up to his room. The dinosaurs hadn’t flown all that well when falling from the pantry shelf. The triceratops had a kink in its tail. It must have gotten bent during the fall. Mister had the cold feeling that Joey’s plastic dinosaurs would fly a lot better when you threw them. They didn’t get wrinkled and bent either. Mister had the WEIRDEST!!! green fish, the NICEST!!! yellow duckbill and the TOUGHEST!!! orange triceratops, which was looking dented and not tough at all. He didn’t have the pterodactyl, which had wings. Things did not look good. Joey would laugh at him, call him names, and tell all of the other kids. Mister picked up the triceratops by the tail and tossed it across the room. The one of the spikes on the end of the tail broke off in his hand. This was not good.

But wait. The triceratops had flown pretty well. Mister went and got it and tried it again. It just fluttered. Something had been different that one time. But what? Mister got the triceratops and threw it again as hard as he could. Still no go. He tried it again. No dice. What is going on? Mister kept throwing as hard as he could and the dinosaur fluttered like a leaf and went almost nowhere. It was a good thing the cardboard was too light to make any noise when it hit.

About this time Molly woke up. Molly always got out of bed immediately. There was a magic moment in which she could jump out and put on clothes and not be cold, and if that moment passed it could be awfully tempting to stay in bed until things warmed up, like Sampson did. Molly dressed and took a quick lick at her hair then down to the kitchen to cook oatmeal. In the pantry she noticed the missing cave. Back up the stairs and to knock on Mister’s door. “Mister?”

“What?”

“Where are those dinosaurs?”

“They’re in here.”

“You give me back those dinosaurs this instant. Slip them under the door.”

“But Mom, you said I could have them tomorrow.”

“You can have them tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow is TODAY.”

“Tomorrow is today, who ever heard such nonsense. Dinosaurs,” she said sharply.

“You said tomorrow yesterday, so that’s today.”

Molly was surprised. Mister had never been that strong in logic, this was something new. Molly strongly believed in fairness. Sampson believed equally strongly in rewarding initiative, and that Mister surely had shown. And if Molly took the dinosaurs Mister might start screaming about the unfairness of it all and wake up Sampson. So all things considered…

“That’s true,” Molly replied. “You can keep the dinosaurs,” Molly never gave up a bargaining chip for free if you can help it, “if you promise never to take anything from the top shelf again.” It was always easier to get promises about future possibilities.

“I promise,” Mister said through the closed door.

“Breakfast in fifteen minutes,” Molly said, and went back downstairs.

At breakfast Mister looked glum and thoughtful, even though Molly had already gotten the other three dinosaurs down from the shelf for him. “What’s the matter, dear?” Molly said, her early crossness forgotten.

“My dinosaurs aren’t good enough.”

This irked her again. Ungrateful kid, probably wants that mass-produced plastic junk. “What’s wrong with them?”

“Joey says they aren’t good enough.”

“Who cares what Joey says?”

“I care. He’s my friend,” said Mister.

“I think your dinosaurs are good enough, and I’m your Mom. Don’t I count?”

Mister felt quite stupid and didn’t say anything.

Molly sensed an opportunity to deliver a lesson on consumerism versus personal creativity. “They are very nice dinosaurs. You have special dinosaurs. Different dinosaurs.”

“But my dinosaurs don’t fly so good as Joey’s.”

“So WELL as Joeys. My dinosaurs don’t fly as well as Joey’s.”

“Now you’re saying it too,” said Mister. He seemed unhappy, depressed even.

“No, it’s your English. We do not say fly good, we say fly well.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your mother and I say so, that’s why. Now what’s this about your dinosaurs not flying. They fly perfectly well.”

“No they don’t.”

Molly was tempted to say “Yes they do,” but this had gone quite far enough. Molly picked up the violet PRETTIEST!!! pterodactyl and flicked it into the parlor where it plinked off of the spark-arresting grate. Mister was amazed, though of course at his age Mister was often amazed.

“Wow!”

“How uncouth,” Molly covered up her pride. It was not every day she amazed Mister. “We Kidds say formidable or excellent,” but Mister was paying no attention whatsoever to niceties of English at this moment. “How did you do that?” he asked.

“Oh, a simple flick of the wrist,” Molly said in an offhand manner. “Like this,” and for the sake of variety scaled the bright blue BIGGEST!!! brontosaurus vertically. It flew through the parlor door with considerable force, to be stopped by the grate with a satisfying clang. Molly hadn’t made All-City in Ultimate Frisbee for nothing, though the powerhouse More Mobsters had been unexpectedly upset in the early rounds at the State championship because the night before… never mind that.

“That is SO cool.” Mister said. Mister knew Joey couldn’t match this. Joey’s dinosaurs didn’t fly any more than rocks or snow balls or dirt clods could fly. After breakfast and the dishes were clean Molly passed on to the new generation the secrets of the wrist flick and the hammer and even tried the forehand which Mister surprisingly got right away. That’s my boy, Molly thought. Mister for his part had not only the best dinosaurs on the block but the coolest Mom in the whole world. Happiness reigned in the Kidd household.

After breakfast Molly dressed Mister for a day in the snow. Mister wanted to take the dinosaurs with him but Molly said no, that the dinosaurs would get snow on them, the snow would melt, the dinosaurs would get wet and would weaken and fall apart, so Mister ran straight over to Joey’s house and banged on the door. Joey’s dad Dr. Robert

came to the door and said Joey would come over and play after breakfast. “Please have him bring his dinosaurs with him, Mister Doctor,” Mister asked. Molly wouldn’t let Mister back in – “Too soon. Play first.” -- so he messed around throwing snowballs at telephone poles and bushes until Joey got out. Joey came right to the point. “Let’s see your stupid dinosaurs.”

“They aren’t stupid, you’re stupid.”

“Am not.”

“Are so.”

Mister and Joey went to Mister’s house for the big dinosaur showdown when Mister remembered the rule against throwing. “Mom,” he called from the front door.

“What is it?”

“Can we fly the dinosaurs in the house?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you did it.” That was true. Molly had quite forgotten the rule. Mister had gotten her again. Twice in one day! They grow up so fast. But wait, “I did not throw the dinosaurs. I flew those dinosaurs.” There was no rule against flying, only against throwing. I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve, Molly thought.

“But I asked if we could fly the dinosaurs.”

“No.”

“But you flew the dinosaurs.” Oops, thought Molly.

“There’s a rule against flying dinosaurs.”

“Since when?”

“Since right now. I just made it.”

“That’s no fair.”

“Tough. I’m the mother. I make the rules.”

Mister still didn’t think that was fair.

“You can’t make up any rule you want.”

“Oh yes I can.”

Mister didn’t want to give up. “You can’t make up a new rule whenever you want.”

“Oh yes I can. I’m the Mom. I make the rules about making the rules.”

“You flew the dinosaurs,” Mister accused.

“That was before I made the no-flying-dinosaurs rule. I hereby declare,” Molly said formally, “the Kidd home henceforth and forevermore a dinosaur no-fly zone.”

Mister knew when he was beat and decided to negotiate.

“We gotta have a dinosaur flying contest.” At this moment it seemed like the most important thing that had ever happened in his life. He HAD to show Joey his dinosaurs that really flew.

“Well you can’t do it here. I’m not going to take off all those snowy clothes either. As soon as it’s over you’ll want to go back outside.”

“But Mom,” Mister was getting dangerously close to whining, “we gotta have the contest.”

Molly was not adverse to Mister showing off his new throwing skills so recently acquired from yours truly. The garage had nothing delicate or breakable but the family car was inside. Hmmm….

“You boys wait on the porch. Don’t move in inch until I back the car out, because I can’t see.” She thought a moment. “The snow is water and is full of crocodiles that will eat you up and poisonous snakes. You’ll die if you touch it before I say the magic word. OK?”

“OK,” the two boys said. Joey was impressed. His mom and dad never said stuff like that.

“OK, Phooffooladoon, that turns the snow into the poison snake deal. Now wait for me.” Molly went to get the keys. She opened the garage door and moved the car. “Phooffooladoon!” she said again, “now it’s OK.”

Mister wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want to be eaten by a snow crocodile or bitten by a snake. “But Poofaladoon makes the snow magic.”

“It also unmagics it,” replied Molly, “that’s the way it works.”

“Oh,” said Mister. The boys entered the garage and Molly shut the door. She was getting interested in this dinosaur flying contest. “We each get six dinosaurs,” Mister said. Joey got his red tyrannosaurs and Mister the NICEST!!! yellow duckbill. Joey might have made fun of that but Joey could not yet read. Mister made a line on the floor with his wet boot and “1,2,3” they threw together across the garage. Both dinosaurs hit the door. “It was a tie,” said Joey. “Was not,” replied Mister. “They both went the same far,” Joey pressed his case.

“But mine hit more higher,” rejoined Mister.

“So? It’s a farness contest.”

“Is not.”

“Is so.”

“It’s not a farness contest, it’s a flying contest. My dinosaur flew better.”

“No he didn’t. Dinosaurs that fly better fly more far. Get your Mom to open the door and we’ll have a real contest.”

“My dinosaurs can’t go in the snow. They’ll get wet.”

“Ha ha,” said Joey, “your stupid dinosaurs can’t get wet. Your dinosaurs suck.”

“They do not suck. Your stupid dinosaurs can’t fly worth sour tofu.”

“They fly as good as your dinosaurs.”

“Are not.”

“Are so.”

Molly believed in letting the boys learn to resolve their own disagreements but this seemed a true impasse, and Molly wanted to see this dinosaur contest. Molly cleared her throat and raised her hand. “May I make a suggestion?” she asked. “Sure,.” said Mister, “Yes Misses Kidd,” said Joey. He was a nice boy.

“I’ll open the door, move the car across the street and spread the picnic tarp over the snow so the dinosaurs won’t get wet, how about that.?” This proposal being acclaimed it was done so. All was ready for the real dinosaur flying contest. Joey and Mister stood behind the line, counted and let fly. Mister tried the backhand wrist flick and the yellow duckbill veered off into the left wall while Joey’s bright blue brontosaurus flew well though the open garage door and down the driveway a good distance. “I win!” said Joey.

“You don’t win,” replied Mister. “We throw all six. That’s the rule. You get one point.”

Mister wasn’t worried. The two boys had differing strategies. Joey had used his heaviest, best throwing dinosaur first, while Mister had used his worst – the duckbill was long and narrow and the rounder dinosaurs flew better – and was keeping his best pieces in reserve for the showdown at the finish. Joey predictably picked his next best dinosaur, the bulky triceratops, and Mister the tall tyrannosaurus. Molly made an overhand motion to Mister that meant try the hammer. It flew straighter than the backhand for flat things. “Hey, your Mom cheated,” said Joey.

“No she didn’t,” faithfully replied Mister.

“She showed you what to do.”

“There’s no rule against that.”

“There is now.”

Mister didn’t argue. He was trying to remember how to throw the hammer, the overhand throw. Mister was up with his blue brontosaurus, Joey his triceratops. “1,2,3.” This time both dinosaurs made it out the open garage door onto the tarp, Joey’s going the farther. The triceratops bounced a ways over the blue tarp. “No rolling,” Mister said. Joey didn’t argue.

Next they both chose the bright green ugly fish with big sharp teeth and Mister’s flew a bit further for one point. Mister remembered Mom said to throw smooth with lots of wrist, not hard, and it worked. Next was Mister’s tyrannosaurus against Joeys yellow duckbill and it was too close to tell, so they did it over and Mister got the point. Then Mister’s triceratops against Joey’s pterodactyl which was no contest. Joey’s broad winged violet dinosaur caught the air when thrown and didn’t even make it half way across the garage. It was time for the final showdown. The score was 3-2 in favor of Mister, Mister had his best dinosaur and Joey had the T Rex because it was the BADDEST!!! but it was too tall and skinny to throw particularly well. The two boys toed the line and Mister suddenly changed his stance to the forehand style. “1,2,3” and the dinosaurs were in the air. Both cleared the garage door and Mister’s seemed ready for a record flight when it curved off toward the right. Before it touched the snow Joey shouted “Pooponadoon!” then “I made the snow poison! Your dinosaur died! The crockdodiles got him.”

Mister seemed to be in shock.

“That’s what your Mom said! Pooponadoon makes poisonous snakes. Three to three. It’s a tie.”

Mister looked depressed. He looked at his mom with a face that seemed to say, can I call you a liar? Everybody knows a dead dinosaur is disqualified. Then when Joey turned away Mister winked at his Mom.

Molly couldn’t believe it. Is the same Mister Kidd who pooped in his diapers and cried when his behind got red? Hath my womb issued forth this marvel? Where did this young man come from all of a sudden? He let Joey win – well, tie anyway. I was twenty-five before I figured out to do things like that.

After that Molly asked Joey to be so kind as to say poopaladoon again to unpoison her snow, wiped the violet pterodactyl clean and dry so it wouldn’t discolor or delaminate, folded up the big blue picnic tarp and moved the car back inside. Then Molly used up all the chocolate chips – “Got my chips cashed in,” she sang to herself as she loaded the oven -- to bake the biggest, best batch of chocolate chip cookies she ever had in her life, so many that she ran out of flat surfaces and had to put sheets of wax paper on the floor to make a sufficiently large cooling board, shooed away Sampson when the smell woke him up, and once they were solid enough to transport gave half the cookies to Joey to take back to the Roberts. Such a nice, polite and clever boy, she thought, though I wouldn’t trade him for my special little one if you threw in all the tea in China.

When Joey got home his mom Julia said, “Chocolate. Really, some people and their health. Let’s at least hope it’s all organic Surely it is Fair Trade chocolate. That’s all that is sold at Dingle’s.” Julia took the brown paper sack with its darker brow grease spots from Joey, sniffed at the inside, wrinkled her nose and without a further word dropped it into the trash bin. Joey hadn’t had any cookies yet because Molly said his Mom had to say it was OK first. The smell lingered faintly in the house. That night after everyone had gone to bed Joey made his way down to the kitchen and quietly opened the trash bin. The sack was gone. A snake of electrical lighting was visible under the garage door. Joey tapped on the door softly, no response. Joey tapped a little bit harder and said quietly, “I’ll tell Mom.” Still no reply. Joey jiggled the door handle, the door was locked. Joey snuck back up to his parents’ room and opened the door very slowly. Doctor Robert – even his family called him that – was snoring softly open mouthed in an otherwise empty bed, picturesquely lit by moonlight streaming in the eastern window. Joey made his way back to the garage door. The light was off now and the door unlocked. Joey went to the pantry door. “I’ll tell Dad,” he said, quietly but firmly. The door slowly opened to reveal a frightened looking Mrs. Robert holding out the sack, top wide open to show the cookies inside. “I had to do it,” she whispered. They both ate cookies until it was more than a little bit sickening, then put the remaining cookies and sack back in the trash. The next morning Julia arose early and checked the spotted sack. It was empty except for a few brown crumbs. The floor was spotless while Joey always made a mess, and Julia was almost certain she could detect the odor of Doctor Robert’s pipe tobacco. “Figures,” she said to herself. “Just as well, I suppose.” Then she thought, ugh. There had been an awful lot of those cookies left.

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