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!”