Reaching the outhouse path, Corvan found that that the door had been left open, most likely by himself. His mother hated it when the gophers got inside and chewed up the old magazines they used for toilet paper.

  He stopped abruptly just in front of small structure, for there, clearly outlined in the dirt by oblique angle of the setting sun, was a single set of three-toed footprints, the sharp indents from the claws overlaid on the human prints from earlier that day. Corvan checked along the tree line and behind the outhouse around the woodpile, but there were no more tracks and no sight of the large lizard.

  Coming back to the outhouse door, he swung it wide. “How did that get here?” he muttered for on top of magazine pile was the book he had been reading in his fort. Mrs. Barron, the owner of the town’s corner store, had given it to him after traveler had left it behind on her counter.

  Corvan stepped up inside the outhouse. He must have brought the book here and tried using the outhouse while he read. When he was engrossed in a story, he would completely forget everything around him. At least now he had something to read while he waited. He left the door open a few inches to bring in a bit of fresh air. Nothing smelled worse than an outhouse after a summer of heat. The smell would go away once winter arrived, but at forty below, the seat would be cold enough to freeze your butt cheeks off. Dropping his shorts, he sat over the well-worn hole in the planks and picked up his book.

  A rustle of sound from outside the outhouse door set his heart pounding. Looking out, he watched the sheets flutter on the clothesline, but there was another noise behind them, the sound of something approaching. He tensed as a shadow appeared in the center of the sheet, growing larger until it filled the dusk lit cotton. It was an animal standing up on two legs. The shadow turned to one side and sniffed the air, its silhouette looking exactly like the logo for Reptile World in the city. His parents had never paid to go inside, but maybe this same lizard had escaped from there.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  In the blink of an eye, the shadow flicked away, then Corvan heard a long hiss of breath alongside the outhouse wall. A twig snapped, then a shadow crossed the knothole on the back wall of the outhouse. Pulling up his shorts, Corvan knelt on the bench and pressed his eye to the hole.

  At the very top of the woodpile, the head of the large lizard stared up at the Castle Rock, the blue markings running down the sides of its neck. Corvan shifted to get a better look and a half-used Sears catalogue slipped off the pile, landing on the floor with a dull thud. The lizard’s lean faced snapped about to face the outhouse before it vanished inside the pile of logs.

  Corvan let out his breath and turned back to the door. At least now he knew where it was hiding. He would come back tomorrow night and wait for it to show up again so he could get a better look at it.

  After reading over my notes the next day I realized I was trying to hard to find some Jurassic Park imagery. If you have read the chapter titled Potty Humor, you will recognize the photo from my childhood of me hanging out the wash, that brought this scene to mind. Seeing how I have included it here with the other background stories I must still like it enough that I don’t want to delete it outright. Maybe when the movie comes out the director can put it back in.