Egg Story by Tom Reed
Dad & J.E.R.
© 1996, Thomas J. Reed All rights reserved.
Egg Story by Tom Reed
My name is Emil—I better start with that, even though a famous guy shouldn’t have to. I like my name. It only caused me trouble once— some flaky kid called me “Emil-in-a-minute” as though I were instant oatmeal or something. That was tough. I live at home with mom. Mom's a museum guard, and so is my friend Mac. I should tell you about Goulash and Chirp too, since they get to be almost as famous as me. Goulash is my dog. He’s from Hungary, and “hungry” is what he is alright. And Chirp’s my parrot. She likes to talk. The only problem is—all she ever says is “Bad boy!” and “Me too!” Chirp’s country is Samoa, and “Samoa” of everything is what she wants. My story starts one egg breakfast. “Aww, mom," I was complaining. "Do I have to eat this? Eggs are boring!” “Emil,” mom said, “Eggs can be fascinating." Chirp squawked, agreeing. “In fact, there’s a very special one now at the museum— the golden Inca egg. Why don’t you visit me today and see it?” 5
Egg Story by Tom Reed
Usually I like visiting mom at the museum. But come on, just to see a big egg? But, when mom fixes on an idea, she doesn’t let go. “Other eggs are on special display there too—like dinosaur eggs.” Mom dangled that word like bait. “Wow!” I said. “Dinosaurs laid eggs? I didn’t know that. All of them? How about Tyrannosaurus?” “I think so.” “How about Triceratops?” “I thinks so, Emil. Even Steak-a-saurus.” “That’s Stegasaurus, ma,” I corrected her, smiling: She’d won. Just about anything dinosaurs did was OK by me. Mom grabbed her cap, gave me a kiss, and then she was gone.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
I hardly noticed. I admit it: say “dinosaur” to me and my mind goes a hundred million years away! Big as houses, with roars like thunder. Now there were guys who’d had it good! Later, when Goulash was itching for his walk, I got him ready.
“Me too! M-e-e-e-e-e too!”Chirp whistled, —so we all set off for the museum together.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
Suddenly at the museum doors we heard a booming voice. “Hold on a second, my boy. And just where might you be going?” It was Mac, giving us the once over. Mac’s real name is MacIver. Nobody calls him that, but I got him to spell it so we could put it here in this book. You never know— Mac’s relatives might read it, and seeing his name spelled out full would make them proud.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
“Well, if it isn’t Emil-osaurus Rex,” Mac kidded. Mac knows my soft spot for dinosaurs too. He'd even nicknamed the museum’s biggest dinosaur “Emil-osaurus,” and the truth is, that suited me fine. Mac leaned over. Together we let out a great dinosaur roar. It was a good satisfying roar—so good that Goulash joined in too. When we were through, Mac said, “My boy, we can’t let your friends here inside. Leave them with me. I’ll find a place for them.” He looped Goulash’s leash around his hand. “Now you run along and find your mom.”
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
I went inside. I always like the way the museum feels. First there’s this rush of cool air. Then there’s all this space—all around. And I like the hushed sounds people make as they swish by. On that day, special banners were up. “See the Eggs-hibit!” they beckoned merrily, and arrows pointed the way.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
I followed the signs. At the end of the hall was the famous egg, and next to it was mom. But mom got all mushy, hugging me right there in front of people. “Aww, mom. Not in PUBLIC!” I whispered, trying to squirm out of all that fuss.
Finally she simmered down. “Look Emil,” she said. “Here’s the Inca egg. Isn’t it great? And it’s solid gold you know.” She turned me to look. I didn’t expect to be impressed, but I was. That egg was big and hefty, and from its holder, it looked down at us with royal splendor. The egg’s broad curve seemed like the big belly of a king on a throne.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
When we’d finished eyeing this thing up and down, mom said suggestively, “Dinosaur eggs are down the hall.” I lit up. “Why don’t you go take a look? Come back when you’re through, and we can leave together.” That sounded fine; it never takes much to get me in a dinosaur mood.
I knew my way to this part of the museum by heart.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
The dinosaur room always gets me. It’s both creepy and neat at the same time. They often keep the lights low there— Mac says, to protect the old bones. To me it just adds more mystery to the place. And those dinosaurs! To see the world from up high, to crunch whatever you felt like crunching— now that must have been GREAT! 13
Egg Story by Tom Reed
t was near closing time. The room was empty. Near the far wall was an egg sign. And there, beneath, half hidden in shadows, were— not only dinosaur eggs, but a big dinosaur nest! “Wow, I can’t believe this. A nest!” I said. “Nobody said ANYTHING about a nest!”
“I wonder what it would be like just to sit inside.” I looked around. The room was empty. So I climbed in. After all, nothing’s wrong with just sitting, is there? 14
Egg Story by Tom Reed
On the outside, the nest was made of hard clay, but inside it was soft and spongy. I lay back to test it... and—O.K., I admit it, I fell asleep.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
“Uh-oh—what was that?”A big wet tongue licked me. “A d-d-dino-o-s-aur?” There it was again!—a big sloppy slurping tongue. I opened my eyes fearfully. It was Goulash, nuzzling me, and next to him was Chirp, hopping around, saying “B-a-a-d boy!” I couldn’t help smiling. “Am I glad to see you two! But how’d you get here, and...uh-oh, what time is it?” I sat upright and looked around. The room was dark. The stillness made it clear it was late—very late. The museum looked closed, empty—and creepy. “Mom!” My eyes sprang open. “Mom said she’d wait. Maybe she’s still here. Let’s go!” Goulash and I climbed down. But Chirp had just realized this was some kind of nest, and that was really getting her interested. “Chirp! COME ON!!” Finally she gave up exploring and fell into line. 16
Egg Story by Tom Reed
The three of us made our way slowly down the hallway.
The museum was scary at night. Long shadows made everything look alive and frightening.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
Finally, as we neared the Inca room, we could see light coming from inside. “Great,” I thought, “mom’s still there.” But something was warning me to be careful.
E-v-er so slowly, I peeked in.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
I could hardly believe my eyes. There was mom alright, and there was the golden egg— but EVERYTHING was wrong. Mom had her hands tied. And standing nearby, studying that golden egg—was a thief. He was trying to steal the egg from its holder. He had planned things carefully. He had a get-away wagon ready, and tools hung from his belt. He wore a cap to hide his face, and dark clothes so it would be hard to see him in the shadows.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
I was not sure what to do. But Chirp was A-N-N-NGGR-R-Y! After all, to a bird, stealing an egg is about the WORST thing anybody can do. Chirp flew into the room. She landed on top of the egg, pointed a wing at the crook, and scolded, “Bad boy! BA-A-A-D B-O-Y!”
The crook looked up, startled. But then he turned his head in a broad circle, giving the whole room a close going over. And what he saw was—me. 20
Egg Story by Tom Reed
“A-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y!” I let out a groan. My stomach flipped and bounced my heart just about through my throat. The thief gave a shout too, and began to run right at me.
My feet carried me the way they knew best— down the hall to the dinosaur room. The room was dark, but I knew it well. I thought we might be safe there.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
We dove into the nest, trying to hide among the big eggs.
But this crook had eggs on his mind. It didn’t take him long to find the nest and begin poking around.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
I gave a shout. Goulash gave a yelp. We both jumped out at top speed.
But that crook was close behind.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
Just then we passed a long bony tail that looked very familiar— Emil-osaurus! “Why that’s it!” I shouted.
I spun around, and started climbing the tail bones of the great dinosaur.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
The crook stopped a moment, eyeing the huge thing up and down. But then he jumped to follow me up those bones.
Up we both ran.
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
Up the tail to the giant hip bones. Then up the backbones, one by one. But I knew I couldn’t keep away much longer.
“Goulash,” I yelled. “HELP me!” Goulash was still on the ground. Sure he looked up when I yelled. But that hungry Hungarian dog could not keep his eyes off those Emil-osaurus bones. Goulash had NEVER seen bones that big! All he could think in his dog-brain was: “What a meal! WHAT a meal!”
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
“Gou-u-u-l-a-a-sh-h! H-e-e-l-l-p-p!” The crook had nearly reached me.
But that dog was just not paying attention— those bones were just too tempting.
Finally Goulash just did what came naturally. With a yelp of pure joy, he lunged and sank his teeth into the biggest, juiciest, most delicious bone he'd ever seen. Then he yanked. 27
Egg Story by Tom Reed
For a second everything stopped. Then with a noise worthy of a full-fledged Emil-osaurus, that tower of bones gave a final creak and groan—and then— 28
Egg Story by Tom Reed
KA-BOOOOM-M-M!! WHAT a crash! Down it all came—me, Emil-osaurus, the crook—everything!
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Egg Story by Tom Reed
But Goulash could not have done better. The dog was happy, because he got that scrumptuous bone. And me—well, I was lucky to land back in the nest, which caught me like a big soft baseball glove. And the crook? I looked around nervously, and then laughed.
Up on the mound was the crook alright. But the dinosaur’s bones had fallen this way and that, trapping him in tightly. “Bone-Voyage Mr. Thief, and hoo-o-ra-a-y Goulash!” I yelled. “Good dog, Goulash. You did well. Ve-e-e-ry well.” Goulash licked his new-found bone. He barked happily, agreeing—for him, this was dog heaven! 30
Egg Story by Tom Reed
Overnight we were famous. All the newspapers carried our story. “Boy, Dog and Bird Scramble Egg Thief,” the headlines said. “Golden Egg Saved From Poaching,” “Rotten Egg Plot Fails to Hatch.” On and on it went. The reporters wanted every detail. “After Goulash and I made sure the crook was trapped, we went back to untie mom,” I told them. “Mom called Mac and the police, and that was that.” The reporters loved it. They even brought us back to the museum to pose for pictures. I wore a brand new shirt Mac gave me especially for the occasion. The photographer gathered us around the Inca egg. Mom and I stood in front. Goulash settled down in front, licking his now-famous bone. And Chirp took her place on top, once more guarding it proudly. “ME TOO-O-OO!” she explained impatiently, and with that she fidgeted till she found just the right pose for the camera. 31
Contact author Tom Reed at
[email protected] or visit his web site at www.tumblereed.com
