Jacob Two-Two and the Dinosaur Read online




  For Daniel, Noah, Emma, Marfa, and Jacob

  Praise for Mordecai Richler’s

  Jacob Two-Two series:

  Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang

  “Mordecai Richler is a funny man, a good writer, and everyone should go out tomorrow morning and beat his local bookseller into submission if he hasn’t got a nice plump display of books titled Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang…. It is ghastly and funny … an unbelievably believable unbelievable place with no artificial sweeteners or preservatives.”

  – The New York Times Book Review

  Jacob Two-Two’s First Spy Case

  “… the story combines zippy dialogue, clever magic tricks, and even a chapter in mirror writing, with opprobrious names and grossness galore…. It will undoubtedly be greeted with shrieks of joy and loud guffaws from children employing their all-too-natural baser instincts.”

  – The Horn Book Magazine

  Jacob Two-Two and the Dinosaur

  “There is a reckless momentum to Richler’s narrative, a rhythm of slap-dash invention that mimics the frantic pace of childhood fantasy. Yet Richler’s tale is well-ventilated with adult wit.”

  – Maclean’s

  As a child, I could imagine the world of dinosaurs.

  At times I was a dinosaur. And so rather than

  do something practical when I grew up,

  I just stayed with dinosaurs.

  Dale A. Russell, of the Canadian National

  Museum of Natural Sciences, in Ottawa,

  as quoted in The Riddle of the Dinosaur,

  by John Noble Wilford

  CHAPTER 1

  hen he was six years old, a mere child, he was known as Jacob Two-Two. He was given the name because he was two plus two plus two years old. He had two ears and two eyes and two feet and two shoes. He also had two older brothers, Daniel and Noah, and two older sisters, Emma and Marfa. But most of all, he was given the name because, as Jacob Two-Two himself once admitted, “I am the littlest in our family. Nobody hears what I say the first time. They only pay attention if I say things two times.”

  But now that he was eight years old he felt that he was too grown up to go by such a childish name. All the same, it stuck to him. After all, he still had two older brothers and two older sisters. And, as they were quick to point out, if he had once been two plus two plus two years old, he was now – come to think of it – only two times two times two years old. Not much of a difference, they said, but they really didn’t understand.

  Jacob Two-Two had learned a good deal since he had been a mere six years old. He could now dial a telephone number, do joined-up writing of a sort, and catch a ball, providing Noah wasn’t aiming it bang at his head. True, his two older brothers and his two older sisters were still taller and much more capable than he was. And snootier than ever, it sometimes seemed to him.

  Marfa, for instance, who was only four years older than Jacob Two-Two, no longer allowed him into the bathroom with her. “I know you’re too young and stupid to understand,” she said, “but it just isn’t right for you to take a shower with me anymore.”

  Even so, some things were looking up. Jacob Two-Two could now cut a slice of bread that wasn’t a foot thick on one end and thin as a sheet of paper on the other – unless Emma gave him a poke at just the right moment and then squealed, “Oh, Mummy, I don’t want to make any trouble, but look what the baby of the family just did to the last loaf of bread in the house.”

  School was also a problem. A big problem.

  When Jacob Two-Two had been a mere six years old, the family had lived in a big rambling old house on Kingston Hill in England. A year later his father had moved them all to Montreal, Canada, where he had come from in the first place. This was a great hardship for Jacob Two-Two, because the kids at his new school in Montreal poked fun at his British accent. The trouble-maker-in-chief was fat Freddy Jackson. He would gather together a bunch of the other kids and then corner Jacob Two-Two in the schoolyard. “Hey, Jacob,” he’d say, “what does your father put in his car to make it run?”

  “Petrol,” Jacob Two-Two would reply. “Petrol.” Because when he was nervous or excited he still said many things two times.

  “That’s what they call gasoline over in stinky old England,” Freddy would explain, even as the other kids had begun to giggle. Then, turning to Jacob Two-Two again, he would ask, “And what are we standing on right now?”

  “The grahs.”

  Soon enough, however, Jacob Two-Two learned to say “gasoline” when what he really meant was “petrol.” Practicing in front of a mirror, he even taught himself to say “grass” instead of “grahs.”

  Unfortunately, everybody in the family picked on Jacob Two-Two too. If, for instance, he came home from school in a cheerful mood and called out, “Am I ever starved! What’s for dinner?” Noah was bound to leap up, make a frightening face, and say “Dead cow.”

  Once he came home from school and asked his father for a measly dollar so that he could go to the movies on Saturday morning. Noah, as usual, had to put in his two cents. “You can’t give the child a dollar just like that,” he said. “It would be spoiling him.” (But Noah wasn’t all bad. He often allowed Jacob Two-Two to tag along with him on his newspaper route. In fact, he actually allowed Jacob Two-Two to deliver the newspaper himself to any house with a sign that warned BEWARE OF THE DOG.)

  “Your brother has a point, Jacob. You will have to win the money by proving your intelligence. Now then, are you ready for a quiz?”

  “Yes,” Jacob Two-Two said. “Yes, I am!”

  “Good. Now you will have to concentrate, because I can allow you only five seconds on the first impossibly difficult question. Ready?”

  “Ready!”

  “Okay. Here we go. For a big fifty cents tell me how long was the Seven Years War?”

  “Seven years!”

  “Excellent! Brilliant! Now, watch out for the next question because it is about the kings of France. Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Here it comes. For another fifty cents tell me what Louis came after Louis the Fourteenth?”

  “Louis the Fifteenth.”

  “Wow! You’re really flying today, kid. You have won a dollar,” his father said, handing it over. “Now, are you a chicken-livered, trembling coward, or would you like to try another question – a really easy one – for one thousand dollars?”

  “Yes! Yes! I’ll try it.”

  “All right, then. Here it is. Jacob Two-Two, for one thousand dollars cash, tell me how you spell ‘chrysanthemum.’”

  Jacob Two-Two groaned. Why, he thought, was everybody in the house always teasing him? Everybody. One day, sure enough, it got him into trouble at school, but that was Daniel’s fault, teasing again. Jacob Two-Two had been lying on the living-room carpet showing off that he was now old enough to have homework to do in his very own assignment book. Looking up from the book, he asked, “Does anybody know what ‘denote’ means?”

  Daniel told him what it meant, but Jacob Two-Two should have guessed that something was up, because no sooner did Daniel explain the word than Emma hid her face in a pillow. Noah burst out laughing. Marfa whispered, “Hey, Daniel, you shouldn’t have said that. He’s just dumb enough to repeat it at school.”

  Actually Jacob Two-Two hardly ever spoke up in class, because he was still ashamed of his British accent. This worried his schoolteacher, Miss Sour Pickle. First thing at school the next morning, Miss Pickle turned to Jacob Two-Two. “Jacob, would you please stand up and tell the rest of the class the meaning of the word ‘denote.’”

  “Yes, Miss Pickle.” And, remembering what Daniel had taught him, Jacob Two-Two said, “Denote is
what you write with de pencil and de paper.”

  Everybody in the class began to laugh, except for Miss Pickle. “Well, I never!” she said. “What cheekiness! How very, very rude! Jacob, you go stand in the corner at once, and after class is out this afternoon you will stay behind to wash all the blackboards.”

  When Jacob Two-Two finally got out of school late that afternoon, the other kids were waiting for him. But they hadn’t stayed behind to tease him about his British accent. Instead they wanted to be friends. All of them. Even fat Freddy.

  Jacob Two-Two was thrilled. Things were working out for him in Montreal at last. Then it happened. At the dinner table that night his father announced, “Mummy and I are going to Kenya for two weeks. On safari. But don’t worry. Aunt Ida is coming to stay with you.”

  “Oh, no,” Noah groaned.

  “Not Aunt Ida,” Marfa said.

  “You forget that I’m seventeen now,” Daniel said, insulted. “We don’t need anybody to stay with us. I can look after the others.”

  Jacob Two-Two was too sad to say anything.

  CHAPTER 2

  er name was Aunt Ida, but as far as Jacob Two-Two and his two older brothers and two older sisters were concerned she was the perfectly horrid Aunt Good-For-You. Aunt Good-For-You was their father’s older sister. She never visited the house without bringing the children a gift that was good for them. Say, a quart of her homemade carrot juice. Or a large box of alfalfa sprouts. Or five spools of dental floss. If she brought candy bars, they were sugar-free and made of pressed dates and granola. Before handing them over she would say how lucky they were and how the children of China or India would be grateful for something so good for them. Thank you, Jacob Two-Two would say, because his mother was watching him closely. Thank you, Aunt Ida. Yum, yum.

  On birthdays Aunt Good-For-You usually came with books that would help the children choose a sensible career or improve their table manners or teach them to be very, very nice to everybody, including obvious stinkers.

  Aunt Good-For-You, who had never married, had no children of her own. She was thin and tall and wore her gray hair in a bun. She didn’t drink beer or wine or whiskey, which was no good for you, or ever lie down on a sofa to daydream, which was even worse for you.

  Immediately after Jacob Two-Two’s parents flew off to Kenya, Aunt Good-For-You opened all the windows to clear the house of the foul smell of Daddy’s cigars. Then she went on a tour of inspection. She took down Daniel’s Sports Illustrated bathing beauty calendar, saying it was bad for him, and she did the same with Emma’s poster of Robert Redford, saying it was no good for her. Noah was told he couldn’t play his David Bowie records, which were bad for him, and Marfa was made to do without her red nail polish, which was no good for her. They weren’t allowed to watch just about everything on TV, because it was too violent. Or read lying down, because it was bad for their eyes. Or eat standing up, because it was no good for their digestion. But the very first night in the house she did promise to read aloud to Jacob Two-Two before he went to sleep. Aunt Good-For-You had brought along the first volume of the Britannica Junior Encyclopedia. “Tonight,” she said, “we will begin with the letter A.”

  The first Saturday afternoon, sensing unrest in the house, Aunt Good-For-You surprised them, announcing, “I’m willing to take you out tonight for a real treat. Any ideas?”

  “Dracula and the Nose-Pickers are playing at the Palace tonight,” Daniel said. “They’re really great! They chop pianos to bits, whack each other over the head with guitars, and spray the crowd with hot pig’s blood.”

  “Don’t you think,” Noah asked, “that in view of how violent city life has become it would be good for us to learn something about self-defense?”

  “Well, I’m not sure about that,” Aunt Good-For-You said. “Why don’t we take in the new kung fu movie at Cinema V,” Noah asked, “if only for educational purposes?”

  “I’m all for a hockey game,” Emma said, but of course she intended to play for the Montreal Canadiens one day.

  “Why don’t we eat dinner at the Ritz,” Marfa said, “really pigging it, and then sign Daddy’s name to the bill?”

  The last time they had been to the Ritz it was their father who had taken them there for Sunday brunch. As she had lined up at the buffet table for her fifth helping of dessert, Marfa had earned a very dirty look from the waiter. “It’s not for me,” she had said, fluttering her eyelashes. “It’s for my kid brother. My poor parents. It’s very embarrassing for them to take such a greedy-guts to a real restaurant.”

  “What would you like to do, Jacob Two-Two?” Aunt Good-For-You asked.

  Absolutely anything, Jacob thought, except listen to another page of the Britannica Junior Encyclopedia. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said.

  “What we are going to do,” Aunt Good-For-You said, “is dine at the Contented Vegetarian Snack Bar.”

  Oh, no, Jacob Two-Two thought. Not mock hamburgers again.

  “And then,” Aunt Good-For-You said, “we are going to a lecture at the Museum of Fine Arts on ‘The Life of the Dinosaurs.’ The lecture will be illustrated. Now, isn’t that fun?”

  Everybody groaned.

  But to Jacob Two-Two’s surprise the lecture was better than fun – it was fascinating.

  Like him, he learned, dinosaurs had a reputation for being dimwitted. Even so, they had been lords of all life on earth for something like seventy million years. Their name came from Greek and meant “terrible lizards.” In their time, dinosaurs had been gigantic creatures, the largest weighing eighty tons and measuring twenty-seven yards. They had disappeared from the face of the earth about sixty-five million years ago. Nobody knew why for sure. Maybe it was because of their tiny brains, or it could have been due to the fact that other creatures ate their eggs. It was also possible that they had all gotten sick at the same time. Or that there had been a shower of meteorites on earth, wiping them out. But even today their fossils could sometimes be found as far away as Tanzania, in Africa, or as near as the province of Alberta, in Canada. “Fossil” comes from the Latin fossilis, meaning “dug up.”

  Some of the dinosaurs had been carnivores, that is to say, eaters of the flesh of other animals. Others had been herbivores, or vegetarians, just like Aunt Good-For-You. The best-known of the giant dinosaurs were the Diplodocus, Brontosaurus, and Brachiosaurus. It was once thought that yet another breed of dinosaur, the Stegosaurus, had two brains: a little one in its head and a much larger one at the base of its spine. In 1912 this inspired a poem written by Bert L. Taylor, a columnist for the Chicago Tribune. It began:

  Behold the mighty dinosaur, Famous in prehistoric lore.

  Not only for his power and strength

  But also for his intellectual length.

  You will observe by these remains

  The creature had two sets of brains

  One in his head (the usual place),

  The other in his spinal base.

  CHAPTER 3

  t seemed like centuries, but actually only two weeks had passed when Jacob Two-Two’s mother and father came home. Happily, they smelled of cigars and champagne and perfume and everything else that was wonderfully bad for you. They had come with gifts, of course. Gifts that weren’t good for children. Real Kikuyu spears and shields for the boys. Tribal necklaces for the girls. Then, opening a cigar box, their father said, “There is also this.”

  And out of the cigar box popped what appeared to be a green lizard.

  “Oh, no,” Emma said, fleeing in one direction.

  “How disgusting,” Marfa said, fleeing in the other direction.

  “I found him on the shores of Lake Begoria,” their father said. “We were standing beneath a towering cliff, watching a furious steam jet, maybe twenty feet high. Suddenly the earth rumbled and shuddered, knocking us off our feet. The water jet from the underground stream burbled and bubbled, rising another hundred feet, and out of it shot this curious creature, which landed right on my chest. I smuggled him th
rough customs for you.”

  The lizard, or whatever it was, stood in the center of the living-room carpet, looking everybody over.

  “Is he ever ugly,” Daniel said.

  “Let me take him to my biology class,” Noah said. “I’ll bet my teacher would just love to cut him up.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Jacob Two-Two said. “Oh, no you don’t! I like him. I’m going to keep him for a pet.”

  Then, to everybody’s amazement, the lizard – or whatever it was – raced across the carpet, climbed into Jacob Two-Two’s lap, and sat there, his head dipping slightly to one side.

  “I’m going to call him Dippy,” Jacob Two-Two said. “I’m going to call him Dippy.”

  CHAPTER 4

  ippy, nourished only on rubbish, grew even faster than asparagus. He slept on a pile of the latest newspapers at the foot of Jacob Two-Two’s bed in their house in Montreal. Only two weeks after he had popped out of the cigar box, he was as big as a full-grown cocker spaniel. Two months later, lo and behold, he was as large as a horse. By that time school was out and the family had moved to a cottage on a nearby lake for the summer. This was very fortunate, indeed, because obviously Dippy could no longer sleep at the foot of Jacob Two-Two’s bed. He was too big to even fit in the bedroom anymore and was still growing bigger at an incredible rate. So Dippy slept out in the woods. But every morning, when Jacob Two-Two awoke, there was Dippy by his bedroom window, waiting for him, his head dipping slightly to one side, wagging the green tail that grew longer and longer every day.

  Dippy didn’t look like anything anybody on the lake had ever seen before. He had an enormous green head, somewhat scaly, with big red eyes and a wet darting pink tongue as long as a yardstick. There were one hundred and two teeth in his mouth, most of them as high and sharp as the biggest nails you ever saw but gleaming white. His forelegs were very short, ending in scaly fingers with sharp claws. His hind legs were much thinner, far longer, and also ended in sharp claws. He had a huge humpy back, a fat belly, and a curling tail longer than everything else about him put together. Let’s face it, if you weren’t a personal friend, Dippy looked like something out of a horror movie. Jacob Two-Two thought he was beautiful.