Well, I’m sitting here, talking to my dogs, pictured right. Ginger and Gabriel. Ginger, our beautiful sammy dog (Samoyed Husky) sat down and put her paw up when I asked her if people would like to see a paragraph or two from the new book I’m working on. I took it as a yes. So here goes, but before you leave, don’t forget to click onto my website: www.annrichduncan.com. It’s got info about my YA historical adventure series featuring Johnny Vic and his treasure hunting adventures:
John was joking with Betty during one of the radio station’s commercial breaks, when one of his comments caught the attention of Paul MacDermott. Paul was a scientist connected with the Arizona Desert Museum in Tucson. Soft-spoken throughout the on-air ordeal, he suddenly became animated, flailing his arms, shouting for Todd’s attention.
Todd rushed to his seat, held a finger in warning, then addressed the listening audience. “Good afternoon, America! This is Todd Rascal, back on the air with a studio full of experts and one brave man, buried alive somewhere in the Sonora desert. And,” he finally gave Dr. MacDermott a nodd, “I now have Dr. Paul MacDermott at the mike and he seems to be excited. Let’s listen to what he has to say.” Todd was hoping that the somber scientist’s voice had finally become as animated as his body language.
“Thank you, Todd.” Dr. MacDermott immediately turned his focus on John. “John! I think we’ll be able to find you now! I’m sure of it!”
“Yes, really!” Grinning like a schoolboy, Dr. MacDermott said, “It’s something you said, John, when you were talking to your wife! I want you to describe that puffy little white thing that you picked off your pant cuff.”
“Umh, well, It’s one of those cactus thingy’s. You know, the seed pod or whatever. It’s umh, well, it seems to be covered with white wooly hairs.”
“Yes!” The animated scientist slapped the counter next to his microphone so hard that Detective Cromwell jumped and bumped his head against his own mike. “It’s not a seed pod, John, it’s most likely the dried skin from the fruit of the Nichol’s Turk’s head cactus. It’s an endangered species, John and there aren’t many in the area near Williston. Now, think hard and tell me, did you see a barrel shaped cactus? With ridges radiating from it? Was it covered with these white wooly fruits?”
“Well, now that you mention it, Doc, I think I did see some. Yeah, I’m sure of it.”
“This is important, John. How tall were they?”
“How tall? Gee, I don’t know.”
“Think, John. The Nichol’s Turk is very slow to grow. It takes ten years for them to reach two inches. And the thing is, we’ve been watching them for several years now, and the height of your cactus could tell us exactly which plot you are near!” Dr. MacDermitt couldn’t contain his excitement. He slapped the counter again, but this time Cromwell was prepared. He only jumped an inch or two.