Heller's Punishment (2 page)

His eyes shot
my way. “It’s highly unorthodox. I’m not sure that our boss would
approve of a frivolous activity such as that when we were hired to
crowd control.”

“Elton,” I
hissed, noticing that the events coordinator’s bottom lip was
wobbling dangerously, on the verge of more tears.

“I don’t want
to get into trouble with Heller,” he hissed back.
Oh
brother!

“It’s not
that
bad,” I persuaded, the veteran of many occasions when
I’d been in trouble with Heller. But that was kind of a lie,
because it really was
that
bad.

He looked down
at me unhappily. “You know, the guys warned me about working with
you.”

“What?” My
mouth fell open.
I
was the one who needed to be warned, not
him.

“Because you’re
a trouble-magnet.”

“I am not,” I
assured with great dignity. “I’m just . . . misunderstood.”

“Please,”
begged the events coordinator. “You’re my only hope. Can you please
at least just look at the costume before you say no?”

And
reluctantly, Elton agreed to do that, ensuring that the other two
agreed as well. She took us to a side wall where a door was
cleverly concealed in one of the panels. The windowless room inside
was a tight fit for the five of us and the dinosaur, a marvel of
modern costumery. I’d thought it would be some cheap ridiculous
foam costume, about as scary as a daffodil. But instead it was made
of greeny-brown latex with well-defined sharp claws and a long
tail. A separate headpiece had beady reptilian eyes and two rows of
vicious teeth.

“Wow, that’s
awesome,” I said, eyes wide.

Elton frowned.
“Which dinosaur is this meant to represent?”

The events
coordinator floundered. “. . . um, T Rex?”

“Nonsense. Can
you see that it has three claws on its forelimbs? The Tyrannosaurus
Rex, which incidentally means ‘king of the tyrant lizards’, had
only
two
claws on each forelimb. And while commonly
considered by a lot of people to be the most ferocious of
dinosaurs, did you know that palaeontologists cannot agree on
whether or not the so-called ‘T Rex’ was a predator or merely a
scavenger?”

Who cares?

“I suggest that
you may be safer to imply that this dinosaur replica is an
Allosaurus, which belonged to a different scientific family to the
Tyrannosaurus Rex. It actually did have three claws, but in many
other aspects this is a very poor and inaccurate representation. In
particular the proportions are simply implausible. For example, the
head isn’t large enough and the tail not long enough. And nobody
can say for certain what colour the dinosaurs were, so I feel that
this costume ought to come with a disclaimer.”

The events
coordinator and I exchanged a weary glance.

“It’s only a
costume, Elton,” I reminded him.

“If you’re
going to instruct impressionable young minds about the prehistory
of our planet and its occupants, it should be done with greater
care so that fallacies or unknowns are not presented as truths,” he
lectured, earning himself another admiring flutter of the eyelashes
from the young woman.

“It’s
so
important to develop children’s minds properly,” she agreed,
flicking back her thin hair and beaming up at him longingly. She
eyed his arm muscles with such hunger that I began to wonder if she
was a little less bland than she appeared. “I hope to have many
children myself.”

“It’s just a
bit of fun,” I persisted.

Buoyed by the
feminine interest, Elton said, “And what precisely is not fun about
learning the truth?” His young admirer nodded her head vigorously,
frowning in my direction at my daring to argue with her new hero
(and apparently, dream father of her future children).

Fortunately the
events coordinator stepped in. “Now, who’s the best fit?” Her gaze
slid up the length of Elton’s body, not without some pleasure. “Not
you, you’re far too tall. In fact, you’re far too tall for
anything. No one needs to be
that
tall. It’s just greedy.”
Her eyes passed over the young woman, dismissing her with a curt
shake of her head. It was a good call. She looked as if she was the
one person in the world who genuinely would be afraid of daffodils.
The elderly gentleman received short shrift as well, and I could
almost hear her mind flipping through the worker’s compensation
claims if she used him. So, with all other options exhausted, her
eyes landed on me and stayed there.

She raised her
eyebrows and I sighed. Of course it would be me. Who else? But I
couldn’t help remember that the last time I’d been in costume, it
hadn’t ended well for me. And I had no great expectations that this
time would prove any differently.

Taking that as
assent, she began to explain the mechanics of the costume.

Mechanics?
I thought warily.

She must have
noticed the expression on my face because she smiled. “There are
only two mechanisms, both controlled by this remote.” And she held
up a small remote with two buttons on it. “The button on the left
controls the head. It roars. Very realistic. And the right-hand
button controls the tail, which flicks back and forth.”

“It looks
complicated,” I whined, now wishing it had been a crappy foam
costume. At least I could manage the technology of one of those.
Well, except for the zip
, I reminded myself.

“It’s not. Not
at all,” she wheedled, unwilling to let the solution to her
problems go easily. “Climb in and we’ll give it a test run, um . .
. What’s your name?”

“Tilly.”

“Thanks for
doing this for me, Tilly. I really appreciate it. I’m Mabel, by the
way. And this is Jeffrey and Alice.”

Elton
introduced himself and we all nodded at each other amiably.

I looked down
at my uniform. “I’m not wearing this. It will be roasting inside.
It’s latex, isn’t it?”

Elton butted
in. “Actually, natural latex is quite a breathable material.
However, I suspect that this costume is made from synthetic latex
as the natural product is expensive.”

Yeah,
yeah.
“Um, I’m going to strip to my undies now, everyone,” I
warned.

Nobody
moved.

“I’m taking my
clothes off, people.”

They all
regarded me curiously.
Oh geez!
What the hell happened to
privacy these days?

I evaluated. I
had worn my sensible undies today – my panties were decently-sized
plain white cotton and my bra was a sports one, useful if I needed
to run on the job. In fact, there was more material in my undies
than there was in some of my bikinis. I shrugged to myself. If they
didn’t care, I didn’t. I had nothing to be ashamed about with my
body, working hard in the gym for the last few months. So I slipped
off my boots and socks and peeled off my uniform in front of
them.

“Oh my,” Elton
said softly, his eyes bugging out of his head.

Jeffrey grinned
to himself, suddenly pleased with life.

Mabel sighed.
“I wish I was that age again.”

Alice looked
sad, peering down at her own chest with a disappointed frown.

“How do I get
into this thing?” I asked, walking around it.

Mabel rushed
forward, showing me the very discreet fastenings at the back. Not a
zip, but velcro. She split it apart and held the costume for me as
I stepped into it, pushing the two sides together again when I
had.

I giggled as I
found the sticks for the dino’s tiny arms. I waved them around,
roaring, and stomped around the confined space, almost tripping
over my new tail. And even Elton managed to crack a smile at my
clumsy antics.

This will be
fun
, I thought to myself, clomping after Alice around the room.
She screamed with delighted terror, finding it an excuse to hide
behind Elton, clutching his waist, making him chuckle indulgently.
And best of all, I’d get away from Elton and his endless
information for a while.

“Now for the
head,” said Mabel, hefting it into her arms. “It’s quite heavy.
Tilly, you won’t be able to get out of this costume by
yourself.”

Now she tells
me! Perhaps I should have made a bathroom visit before starting
this?

“What about the
remote?” asked Jeffrey in a clipped crisp voice, the first time I’d
heard him speak. “She’ll need that with her, won’t she?”

“Of course!
Thank you. It’s just on that table. Would you mind . . .?” Jeffrey
handed it to her and she opened the velcro again to free my hand to
take it from her.

I pressed the
right button and the tail of the costume swished violently,
knocking Alice off her feet before swinging back to sweep
everything off the small desk in one corner of the room. Something
broke when it landed on the floor. I frantically pressed the button
again to make it stop.

“Whoops!
Sorry,” I said sheepishly, but Alice didn’t seem too upset as Elton
gallantly helped her to her feet. Mabel quickly disposed of the
broken mug, a slightly worried indentation appearing between her
eyebrows.
Maybe she was having second thoughts about me?

But she
proceeded, with the help of Elton, in fitting the headpiece onto my
shoulders. It was heavy and much taller than the top of my own
head, giving me an unbalanced feel. Mabel attached the head to the
costume, so that it was difficult to tell that it was a separate
piece.

I unwisely
pressed the left button just as Mabel was warning me about it. The
jaws of the beast opened and emitted a roar of such magnitude and
with such depth and growliness that I frightened myself and I knew
I was about to do it. The others of course had no such warning and
all screamed in varying degrees of fear and shrillness.

“Holy shit,
that’s loud!” I shouted, trying to catch my breath.

“That’s
possibly inaccurate,” pointed out Elton, the first to recover his
composure. “Some researchers believe that the dinosaurs were unable
to vocalise because they appeared to lack vocal cords in their
larynx. Much like common birds today don’t actually ‘speak’ because
they don’t have vocal cords, instead using their syrinx to produce
sound. Although this is conjecture as larynges don’t fossilise, so
there’s no real proof one way or another whether dinosaurs had
vocal cords.”

It was strange
inside the costume. I felt immediate sensory deprivation, Elton’s
voice coming only indistinctly through the headpiece. And yeah,
thank goodness for small mercies! My vision was limited to a small
rectangle of mesh situated underneath the beast’s massive jaws.

Mabel spoke
into the mesh, obviously well briefed on communicating with the
entertainer. “You look great. Thanks so much again, Tilly.”

“It’s
heavy.”

“You’ll get
used to it. Walk around for a while here before you go
downstairs.”

I lumbered out
of the small room, careful to keep my thumb away from the buttons.
I practiced walking and moving the little arms, with advice from
the others. Soon enough, I learned how to compensate for the extra
weight and unbalance and was stomping around like an old hand,
chasing Jeffrey this time. He guffawed and swatted me away when I
backed him into a corner. I accidently pressed the left button and
roared at him, deafening both of us, poor Jeffrey shrinking against
the wall in pain.

“Sorry!” I
yelled out, but he didn’t hear me. I guess nobody could hear
through the costume unless they had their ear to the mesh. I wasn’t
sure how I was supposed to communicate with anyone.

I practiced
roaring and using the tail as I walked. Elton shouted out so many
instructions on the gait of a real dinosaur that I was glad I could
barely hear him. I was having enough trouble staying upright
without worrying about whether or not I was being authentic.

“That’s
wonderful, Tilly. You’re going to be a hit,” gushed Mabel into the
mesh, eager to ensure that I continued in my new role. She checked
her watch. “Oh, we open in ten minutes. Let me take you downstairs
in the lift.”

I nodded to
show I’d heard her, the huge head moving slowly up and down in
response.

She smiled at
me. “It’s time to meet the public.”

Sure
, I
thought with reckless abandon.
Why not?
What could
possibly go wrong?

And you’d think
I’d know better by now.

Chapter 2

I followed her
out of the display and down a corridor flanked by a glass half-wall
on one side that afforded a view of the bottom floor of the museum.
We eschewed the escalator in favour of the lift. I had to duck my
head to fit inside.

On the ground
floor, Mabel introduced me to several museum staff. She yelled into
the mesh that if I needed anything, I could contact one of them for
assistance, as she would be busy upstairs in the display. That was
a relief to hear, because nobody so far had mentioned breaks or
free coffee. I’d had an early start this morning and free coffee
would have been great right about now.

“It’s time! I’m
opening!” croaked an octogenarian volunteer, giving us advanced
warning as he slid back the glass doors to the three people
crowding to get inside – a woman with two young boys. “Oh, watch
out, everyone. It’s real busy today.”

“Look, Mummy!”
said the younger boy, pointing at me, his eyes huge. “A
dinosaur!”

“That’s so
cool,” nodded the older boy, grinning. “It’s a T Rex.”
Huh, so
there, Elton, what do you know?

Thrilled to
have fans already, I thudded my clumsy way over to them, swishing
the tail as I walked. And while that made them even more excited,
it wasn’t such a good idea as it really interfered with my balance.
I stopped swishing when I realised that staggering around like
that, I probably looked like a dinosaur that’d been sipping too
freely on the gingko juice.
And yes, Elton, I knew that
dinosaurs didn’t make their own home brew.