the Garden Gateway or: the Time I Almost Didn't See a Dinosaur

I was always told it was an impossible dream, but it’s one that I’ve always had. I’ve proclaimed it in the third grade when they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, and my teacher told me to be more realistic. I’ve done my research in the most prestigious museums until the late hours when the tour guides push you out the door. I’ve tried forging my own road to it with a thousand broken models until somebody beat me to it with headlines that burned into screens and ran printers dry. Now, I finally have it. After a lifetime of waiting, I could finally achieve it.

Today was the day I got to see a dinosaur.

I almost fell out of the present into the forest behind the gateway. It was an interesting feeling, having one foot in and one foot out. On my left, an army of tourists waiting their turn and lawyers being ensured that the world would not end if their client stepped on a butterfly. On the right, the cool, humid twilight of a Jurassic forest, coated in ferns and moss. Flickering fluorescent lights gave way to the greyish-green sky, minutes from sunrise. The bickering of man and machine cut away to the trickling brooks and chirping of flying reptiles. I wish I could have stayed there forever, but the trip was expensive, and the hour that I had nearly run my bank account dry, so, with my camera in hand, I trudged through the underbrush in search of my childhood obsession.

The stream seemed like the best place to go; all animals needed to drink, so there had to be something by the water. Even so, the mere act of walking was electrifying me more than any amusement park or birthday party before. Every tree was hiding something from me, or so I wished. If I turned the corner I might see some small predator catching a prehistoric mouse, or if I stood on my tip-toes, I could see the long, arching necks of browsers in the branches. Unfortunately, every corner just held another bush, and every branch just another mossy trunk. I was so close, but I still felt a million miles away.

At last, I came to the edge of the creek. The sun had just started to peer over the canopy, giving the water a fiery glow. All around me, the woods began to make noises – somewhat like the park in my neighborhood, but altogether alien. Giant insects buzzed across the stream as some pterosaurs, always just out of my field of vision, it seemed, crowed and squealed. In the distance, something gigantic let out a long, deep groan that rattled the ground.

I checked my watch. Forty-three minutes left.

It wouldn’t be long now.

I sat down on the cleanest rock I could find and started snapping pictures. As beautiful as the forest was, I knew that the real show-stopper was on its way.

Soon…

Very soon…

I checked my watch again. Thirty-seven minutes.

Where were they?

It wasn’t as though I had gone to the Triassic when there were only a handful of dinosaurs scattered across the wasteland, nor had I landed at the end of the Cretaceous and missed the asteroid by a few seconds. This was the Jurassic: the peak of dinosaur diversity and size. Paleontologists had found rocks filled with hundreds of multi-ton megafauna from this era, and here I was sitting right in the middle of it not seeing anything.

I looked down at my watch. Twenty-one minutes.

I was losing my mind. After all this time, all the money I spent, was I really spending my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity not seeing anything? The sun was rising higher, and with each passing second, my heart rose higher into my throat. I put my face in my hands, trying to hold back my tears. All the humiliation I knew I was going to have to confront when I got back home pressed at my temples. What would I say? That I spent my life savings hoping to get just one picture of a dinosaur that bailed on his appointment? I was doomed.

Something hooted behind my hands.

Could it be?

I looked up right into the most beautiful sight I had seen. A tiny, foot-tall creature was staring right at me. For all the world, it looked like a quail on stilts. Its long, slender tail kept its balance as it leaned forward to smell my fingers. I should have grabbed my camera and taken a picture right there. I wanted to jump forward and hug its little reptilian head. All I could do was sit there, breathless.

It was a dinosaur.

The animal, I think it was called Othnelia, cocked its head curiously. It wasn’t much bigger than a rabbit, but it didn’t look scared, probably because I didn’t smell like anything to be scared of. Its big black eyes blinked as it looked me up and down, trying to figure out what I was. It prodded me with its tiny beak and ruffled its feathers as it licked me – yes, licked me! I slowly reached one hand down to my side to pick up my camera. I couldn’t let something this amazing slide away.

The silence between us broke as my watch’s hour alarm went off. With a scream, the dinosaur bolted across the water back into the undergrowth. I slammed the camera against my face and snapped a picture, but the moment was already gone. With a flurry of pycnofibers, my first dinosaur had disappeared.

I stood up as I looked down at the photo I had taken. It was pretty blurry, but I think you could tell it was a dinosaur if you looked at it. I couldn’t stay for long, though. The gateway security was going to be sent out soon. It wasn’t a total loss, though- I was able to sneak some of the animal’s feathers into my pocket before I raced back to the door, ecstatic that I found what I was looking for.

I stumbled back through the gate, into the overheated industrial lobby. Several tourists were glaring at me as I apparently was holding up the line, and some ushers were already trying to push me out to the modern world. I didn’t care. As I made my way through the crowd I knew that I had fulfilled my life’s dream. I had an experience that these people could barely imagine, and I could die knowing that it was mine and mine alone.

“Mommy, look! A Thtegothauruth!”

The line of tourists behind me ooh-ed and aah-ed. I spun around to get one last look, but as soon as I saw the giant spikes of whatever they were looking at, the gate was closed.