  It was only a dream. Eddie Taylor would like to have finished it, but the bar of morning sunlight poking in under the window shade pried his eyes open. The dream fled. Eddie kicked off the sheet, swung his feet to the floor, and groped under the bed for his tennis shoes. He heard his father’s heavy footsteps in the hallway. They stopped outside of his bedroom door. “You awake, Eddie?” “I’m awake, Dad,” Eddie answered. “Breakfast’s ready. Get washed and dressed.” “Be right there,” Eddie said. Then, remembering the dream, he added, “Oh, Dad, is it all right if I use the Geiger counter today?” Mr. Taylor opened the door. He was a big man, broad-shouldered and still thin-waisted. Eddie found it easy to believe the stories he had heard about his father being an outstanding football player in his time. Even his glasses and the gray hair at his temples didn’t add much age, although Eddie knew it had been eighteen years since his father had played his last game of college football. “You may use the Geiger counter any time you want, Eddie,” Mr. Taylor said, “as long as you take good care of it. You figured out where you can find some uranium ore?” Eddie smiled sheepishly. “I—I had a dream,” he said. “Plain as day. It was out on Cedar Point. I was walking along over some rocks. Suddenly the Geiger counter began clicking like everything.” “Cedar Point?” his father asked. “I’ve never been out there. But, from what I hear, there are plenty of rock formations. Might be worth a try, at that. You never can tell where you might strike some radioactivity.” “Do you believe in dreams, Dad?” “Well, now, that’s a tough question, son. I can’t say that I really do. Still, one clue is as good as another when it comes to hunting uranium ore, I guess. But right now we’d better get out to breakfast before your mother scalps us. Hurry it up.” His father turned and went back down the hallway toward the kitchen. Eddie pulled on his trousers and T shirt and went into the bathroom. He washed hurriedly, knowing that even if he missed a spot or two, he was fairly safe. During the summer months his freckles got so thick and dark that it would take a magnifying glass to detect any small smudges of dirt hiding among them. He plastered some water on his dark-red hair, pushed a comb through it, and shrugged as it snapped back almost to its original position. Oh, well, he had tried. He grinned into the mirror, reached a finger into his mouth, and unhooked the small rubber bands from his tooth braces. He dropped them into the waste basket. He’d put fresh ones in after breakfast. He brushed his teeth carefully, taking particular pains around the metal braces. The tooth-straightening orthodontist had warned him about letting food gather around the metal clamps. It could start cavities. Finished, Eddie went out to breakfast. “Good morning, dear,” his mother greeted him, handing him a plate of eggs. “Hi, Mom,” Eddie said. “Gotta hurry. Big day today.” “So your father says. But I’m afraid your big day will have to start with sorting out and tying up those newspapers and magazines that have been collecting in the garage.” “Aw, Mom—” “Eddie, I asked you to do it three days ago. Remember? And the Goodwill truck comes around today.” “But, Mom—” “No arguments, son,” his father put in calmly but firmly. “School vacation doesn’t mean that your chores around here are on vacation, too. Get at it right away, and you’ll still have time to hunt your uranium. “Well,” Mr. Taylor added, excusing himself from the table, “I’d better be getting over to school. I’m expecting to receive shipment of a new radioisotope today.” The very word excited Eddie. In fact, anything having to do with atomic science excited him. He knew something about isotopes—pronounced eye-suh-tope. You couldn’t have a father who was head of the atomic-science department at Oceanview College without picking up a little knowledge along the way. Eddie knew that a radioisotope was a material which had been “cooked” in an atomic reactor until it was “hot” with radioactivity. When carefully controlled, the radiation stored up in such isotopes was used in many beneficial ways. “Why don’t college professors get summer vacations, too?” Eddie asked. One reason for asking that particular question was to keep from prying deeper into the subject of the radioisotope. Much of his father’s work at Oceanview College was of a secret nature. Eddie had learned not to ask questions about it. His father usually volunteered any information he wanted known, so Eddie stuck to questions which could and would be answered. “We get vacations,” his father said. “But—well, my work is a little different, you know. At the speed atomic science is moving today, we simply can’t afford to waste time. But don’t worry. We’ll take a week or so off before school starts in the fall. Maybe head for the mountains with our tent and sleeping bags.” “And Geiger counter?” Eddie asked eagerly. “Wouldn’t think of leaving it home,” his father said, smiling. “By the way, I put new batteries in it the other day. Take it easy on them. Remember to switch it off when you’re not actually using it.” “I will,” Eddie promised. He had forgotten several times before, weakening the batteries. It took Eddie over an hour to sort out the newspapers and magazines in the garage, tie them in neat bundles, and place them out on the front curb for the Goodwill pickup. By that time the sun was high overhead. It had driven off the coolness which the ocean air had provided during the earlier hours. “Anything else, Mom?” he asked, returning to the house and getting the Geiger counter out of the closet. He edged toward the back door before his mother had much time to think of something more for him to do. “I guess not, dear,” Mrs. Taylor said, smiling over his hasty retreat. “What are you going to do?” “Think I’ll do a little prospecting,” Eddie said. “Where?” “Probably in the hills beyond the college,” Eddie said. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was a little late in the day to go to Cedar Point. The best way to get there was by rowboat across Moon Bay, and that was too long a row to be starting now. Besides, there were plenty of other places around the outskirts of Oceanview where likely looking rock formations invited search with a Geiger counter. “Are you going alone?” his mother asked. “Oh, guess I’ll stop by and see if Teena wants to go,” Eddie answered casually. He tried to make it sound as though he would be doing Teena Ross a big favor. After all, she was only a girl. Eddie didn’t figure a girl would make a very good uranium prospecting partner, but most of the fellows he knew were away at camp, or vacationing with their folks, or something like that. “She’ll enjoy it, I’m sure,” his mother said. “I’ll take Sandy, too,” Eddie said. “He needs the exercise.” “That’s a good idea, dear. Be back in time for an early dinner.” Eddie let Sandy off his chain. The taffy-colored cocker spaniel yipped wildly over his freedom, racing back and forth as Eddie started down the street. Christina Ross—whom everybody called Teena—lived at the far end of the block. Eddie went around to the side door of the light-green stucco house and knocked. “Oh, hi, Eddie,” Teena greeted him, appearing at the screen door. “I was hoping you’d come over.” “Well, I—I just happened to be going by,” Eddie said. “Thought you might want to watch me do a little prospecting with the Geiger counter. But maybe you’re too busy.” That’s how to handle it, Eddie thought. Don’t act anxious. Let Teena be anxious. Then maybe she’ll even offer to bring along a couple of sandwiches or some fruit. “Oh, I’d love to go,” Teena said eagerly, “but I’m just finishing the dishes. Come on in.” “I’m in kind of a hurry.” “I’ll only be a minute.” She pushed the screen door open for him. “I’ll make us some sandwiches.” “Stay here, Sandy,” Eddie said. “Sit.” The dog minded, although he looked a bit rebellious. Eddie went inside and followed Teena to the kitchen. He felt triumphant about the sandwiches. Teena tossed him a dish towel. “You dry them,” she said. “Who, me?” “Why not? You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? I can make the sandwiches while you dry the silverware.” She smiled, putting tiny crinkles in her small, slightly upturned nose. She wore her hair in a pony tail. Even though her hair was blond all year long, it seemed even lighter in the summer. Eddie couldn’t tell whether the sun had faded it, or whether her deep summer tan simply made her hair look lighter by contrast. Maybe both. “Hello, Eddie,” Mrs. Ross said, coming into the kitchen. “Looks like Teena put you to work.” “She always does, Mrs. Ross,” Eddie said, pretending great injury. “Don’t know why I keep coming over here.” “I know,” Teena spoke up quickly. “It’s because we’re friends, that’s why.” Eddie knew she was right. They were friends—good friends. They had been ever since Eddie’s family had moved to Oceanview and his father had become head of the college’s atomic-science department. In fact, their parents were close friends, also. Teena’s father was chief engineer for the Acme Aviation Company, one of the coast town’s largest manufacturing concerns. “Well, I’ll be glad to finish them, Eddie,” Mrs. Ross offered. “I know how boys detest doing dishes.” “Oh, I don’t really mind, Mrs. Ross,” Eddie said. “Besides, Teena’s making sandwiches to take with us.” “Another prospecting trip?” Teena’s mother glanced at the Geiger counter which Eddie had set carefully on the dinette table. “I still think there must be some uranium around here,” Eddie insisted. “And we can find it if anyone can.” “I agree,” Mrs. Ross said. “But even if you don’t find it, you both seem to enjoy your hikes.” “Oh, yes, it’s fun, Mother,” Teena replied, wrapping wax paper around a sandwich. “Guess I’m ready. I’ve got a bone for Sandy, too.” “Don’t go too far out from town,” Mrs. Ross cautioned, as Eddie picked up the Geiger counter. “And stick near the main roads. You know the rules.” “We sure do, Mrs. Ross,” Eddie assured her. “And we’ll be back early.” They walked past the college campus, and toward the rocky foothills beyond. At various rock mounds and outcroppings, Eddie switched on the Geiger counter. The needle of the dial on the black box wavered slightly. A slow clicking came through the earphones, but Eddie knew these indicated no more than a normal background count. There were slight traces of radioactivity in almost all earth or rocks. It was in the air itself, caused by mysterious and ever-present cosmic rays, so there was always a mild background count when the Geiger counter was turned on; but to mean anything, the needle had to jump far ahead on the gauge, and the clicking through the earphones had to speed up until it sounded almost like bacon frying in a hot skillet. There was none of that today. After they had hiked and searched most of the forenoon, Eddie said, “We might as well call it a day, Teena. Doesn’t seem to be anything out here.” “It’s all right with me,” Teena agreed, plucking foxtails from Sandy’s ears. “Pretty hot, anyway. Let’s eat our sandwiches and go back home.” “All right,” Eddie said. “You know, one of these days I’d like to go out to Cedar Point and scout around. Maybe we’ll find something there.” Then he told Teena about his dream. Teena smiled. “A dream sure isn’t much to go on,” she said, “but they say it’s pretty out on Cedar Point. I’ll go any time you want to, Eddie.” She handed him one of the sandwiches. It was midafternoon by the time they arrived back at Teena’s house. They worked a while on a new jigsaw puzzle Teena had received on a recent birthday. Then Eddie said good-by and went on down the street toward his own home. After putting Sandy on his long chain and filling his water dish, Eddie went in the back door. He put the Geiger counter in the closet and went into the kitchen. “What’s for dinner, Mom?” he asked. Mrs. Taylor turned from the sink. Eddie knew at once, just seeing the expression on his mother’s face, that something was wrong. “Dinner?” his mother said absently. “It’s not quite four o’clock yet, Eddie. Besides, dinner may be a little late today.” “But this morning you said it would be early,” Eddie reminded her, puzzled. “This morning I didn’t know what might happen.” Then Eddie heard the sound of his father’s voice coming from the den. There was a strange urgent tone in it. The door to the den was open. Eddie went through the dining room and glanced into the den. His father sat stiffly behind his homemade desk, talking rapidly into the telephone. Eddie caught only the last few sketchy words. Then his father placed the telephone in its cradle, glanced up, and saw Eddie. If there had been even the slightest doubt in Eddie’s mind about something being wrong, it vanished now. Mr. Taylor looked years older than he had that very morning. Worry lay deep in his eyes. He fumbled thoughtfully with a pencil, turning it end over end on his desk. “Hello, son,” he said. He didn’t even ask whether Eddie had discovered any uranium ore that day. Always before, he had shown genuine interest in Eddie’s prospecting trips. “Dad,” Eddie said anxiously, “what—what’s the matter?” “It shows that much, does it, son?” his father said tiredly. “What’s wrong, Dad?” Eddie prompted. “Or can’t you tell me?” Mr. Taylor leaned back. “Quite a bit’s wrong, Eddie,” he said, “and I guess there’s no reason why I shouldn’t tell you. It’ll be in the evening papers, anyway.” “Evening papers?” “Eddie, you remember me mentioning this morning about that radioisotope shipment I was expecting today?” “I remember,” Eddie said. “Did it come?” “It did—and it didn’t,” his father said. “What does that mean, Dad?” Eddie asked, puzzled. “The delivery truck arrived at the school with it,” his father explained, “but while the driver was inquiring where to put it, the container disappeared.” “Disappeared?” “The radioisotope was stolen, Eddie,” his father said slowly. “Stolen right out from under our noses!” |
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