“I think most of the restaurants in town probably offer raptor burgers, dino nuggets, and T-rex steaks,” Dave said. Dinosaurs were Drumheller’s claim to fame.
They ended up with plain old beef burgers and fries. After they cleaned up, Dave texted his friend for directions while Mattie inspected every inch of the trailer to make sure nothing had shifted. Once they arrived at the party, Dave changed into his white dress shirt, black slacks, and leather coat, then checked that his table with its draping cover and box of props were ready to go.
Mattie straightened his cowboy hat when he exited the van. “You look…really good. Go get ’em, Dave the Magnificent.”
“Are you going to watch the show?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Apparently, that kid wasn’t invited to the party. Birthday boy Liam had been stunned to silence at the rope trick, and his little buddies all demanded a chance to study the interlocking rings that Dave separated and reattached in front of their very eyes.
Liam’s parents were very happy with the show. Once Dave put out the word that he was for hire, Gordon, who he had worked with in Grand Prairie, had immediately booked him for his son’s party. “That was terrific, Dave. The kids loved you.”
After he collected his fee, Dave climbed behind the wheel of the van and simply sat for a minute.
“I’m not surprised the kids were amazed. I’m an adult, and I have no clue how you did all those tricks,” Mattie told him, bouncing in her seat.
“Thanks, but?—”
“No buts. Take the compliment,” she insisted. “You’re an excellent showman, Dave the Magnificent. And not just technically. You love what you do, and it shows in your energy.”
His residual nerves eased, and his tense shoulders dropped. He’d finished his first show, and everybody involved was happy with it. The hundreds of hours of practice he’d put into perfecting his tricks had been worth it. The two times he’d stumbled during his act had gone unnoticed by his young audience, but Dave already knew what he’d do differently the next time. It was an auspicious start. “We deserve dinner out,” he said. “To celebrate my first paid gig.”
“That sounds like fun. I’ll be sure to disappear when the check arrives,” Mattie teased.
Chapter 3
Mattie
Dave’s friends had kindly let them set up the camper van in their driveway overnight. An even nicer gesture was when they gave Mattie and Dave full access to their bathrooms, which meant Mattie got to take a shower before they hit the road on the second day.
“This detour is going to add about forty-five minutes to our drive to Medicine Hat,” she informed Dave after doing the math on her phone. They’d been advised of three different stretches of construction on the shorter route, so they were taking the long way around. It looked fine on the map. But the map didn’t have the same signs as the highway did. “Slow down!”
She jolted against the seatbelt as Dave hit the brakes. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Did you see that sign?”
“Yes.”
“And it didn’t frighten you?”
“No.”
“Well, it frightened me!” Mattie didn’t know such places still existed in southern Alberta, but those eight words struck fear into her heart. No gas or services for next 106 kilometres. “What if we run out of gas? What if I have to go to the bathroom?” Her imagination raced to even worse perils. “What if we run out of snacks?” Dave’s camper van had a small double mattress on a platform at the rear, a little collapsible table between two seats that turned into a second, narrow bed, a miniscule sink with an even tinier water reservoir, and a two-burner propane stovetop. There were no bathroom facilities at all, let alone a fridge for groceries. If anything happened, they were doomed.
“Do you want me to turn around and go back to that last gas station so you can use their bathroom?” Dave offered.
“No, I’m fine. But what if we break down?”
“Mattie, it’s a hundred kilometres. That’s like an hour’s drive. There will be other cars on the highway. It’s not like we’ll be stranded in the middle of the desert. Intrepid explorers are not going to find our dried-out husks weeks from now, shriveled up like a couple of mummies from dehydration.”
“My cell phone doesn’t have service!”
“That’s an entirely different problem.”
“You’re not taking this seriously, Dave.” No phone meant no GPS. Their planned path didn’t take them off the current highway; it was a straight shot for two hours due south. But it was the principal of the thing, Mattie thought. The principal, and the fact that the “no signal” symbol on her phone was laughing at her.
“We could just talk for an hour. For example, we will be driving by Dinosaur Provincial Park. Do you know when it was established?”
