The Paleontologist by Ramona Gray

The Paleontologist by Ramona Gray

Author:Ramona Gray [Gray, Ramona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781774461396
Publisher: Ramona Gray


Olivia

I shut off the floor sander, pulling off my mask and frowning. I could hear a beeping sound, and I crossed the room and opened the door. Fear stampeded through my chest like a buffalo herd. It was the smoke alarm.

I ran for the stairs, nearly falling down them in my haste. My heart rate skyrocketed when I smelled smoke, and I raced through the dining room and into the kitchen. “Luther! Are you…”

I stopped, staring in disbelief at the scene in the smoke-filled kitchen. Luther stood on a chair, waving a dishtowel at the beeping alarm as Ben dropped the smoking pan into the sink before opening the window. Splatters of blood covered his chest and stomach, and fresh panic threw my heart back into overdrive.

“Ben!” I ran over and grabbed him, twisting him around to stare at his chest. “Are you hurt? Where’s the blood coming from?”

I took a closer look at him. The blood was more orange than red.

“I’m good,” Ben said. “It’s, uh, tomato soup.”

“A lot of tomato soup,” Luther hollered over the sound of the smoke alarm. He waved the dishtowel harder and then cheered when the alarm quit its ear-piercing beeping. “Finally!”

He hopped off the chair. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey. What’s going on?” I peered into the sink. The blackened hunk in the middle of the still-smoking pan was unrecognizable. “What is that?”

“A grilled cheese sandwich,” Ben said.

“A grilled cheese sandwich,” I repeated.

“We’re making dinner for you,” Luther said.

I stared at the pot of tomato soup that still bubbled. My new stove was covered in orange soup splatters, and melted cheese stuck to one burner. The counter had half-buttered bread, more soup splatters, and slices of badly cut cheese.

“Surprise,” Ben said.

I stared at him, then at Luther, then back at the mess before starting to giggle. “Wow… uh, thanks?”

Luther put his arm around my waist and leaned his head against me. “I thought I could make it ‘cause I watched you do it, but then the soup exploded for some reason, and Ben burned the grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Don’t be a narc, kid,” Ben said.

Luther laughed. “I asked Ben to help me cook dinner, but he’s terrible at cooking.”

“In my defense, I told you that before we started,” Ben said.

“He couldn’t even slice the cheese straight,” Luther said.

“You couldn’t either,” Ben said.

“I’m seven, Ben,” Luther said, making both me and Ben laugh.

“Maybe the sandwich can be saved,” Ben said.

The three of us stared at the smoking lump in the middle of the pan before Luther said, “I am not eating that.”

Ben poked the lump. “It’s not that burnt.”

“Are you kidding? It looks like a meteor hit it,” Luther said.

I laughed again. “No one is eating it.”

“You got a lot of dust on your face, Mom, and your hair looks real sweaty and stringy,” Luther said. “Did you finish sanding the floor?”

I touched my face self-consciously as I glanced at Ben. “Yes. I’ll have a quick shower, and then we’ll clean up the mess, and I’ll make dinner.”

“I have a better idea,” Ben said.



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