When I was asleep I went to the marina. The water was excited, jumping and crashing like it was getting ready for something. I hopped and slipped around on the docks and fell in a few times. There were little alligators - caymans, I think - playing on the docks too and I was a little scared of them but not very. We were doing the same things but since they were better at it they ignored me. When it started to lightning I went into a building to dry off and look around. The building had pictures of people from the past standing around at the marina before it was a marina. They had fake caymans and fake cranes standing next to fake plants. While I was looking at the fake things a park ranger came up to me and asked if I wanted to see something. I did. He lead me to the basement and introduced me to a scientist. The scientist said "We're bringing back the ankylosaurs." He showed me a slide show about how ankylosaurs used to live there, and then in his arms he was holding a rolled up ankylosaur the size of a beach ball. It was brown and dead and a little hairy but not fake. "In Montana they're working on mammoths, but here we're working on ankylosaurs," he said. He told how the beach ball one he was holding was the first real ankylosaur they had brought back, before that one they had been smaller and hairier and not really ankylosaurs. "But now," he said, "we're getting them right." Right as he said it an ankylosaur the size of a pretty big desk trotted down the hall. Scientists were shuffling all around, trying to measure it, but the ankylosaur ignored them. I was thrilled and confused and wanted to follow the ankylosaur wherever it was going or at least talk to the scientist some more, but he was directing me back upstairs. "Time for the potluck!" he said as he closed the door behind me. I went up the stairs in the dark. I hadn't brought anything for the potluck because I didn't know about it but no one cared. The lady in front of me had scratched her back with the big plastic fork you were supposed to use to scoop out spaghetti and there were noodles and tomato sauce smeared across her shoulder. I wanted to see another ankylosaur. Did everyone in here know what was going on? Was I allowed to tell? Where should I sit? I sat at a table by myself, not eating, just thinking and looking around. A woman forty years older than me sat down at my table. She had a piece of bread and an ugly pile of salad on her plate and an ugly hat on her head. "Do you like this place?" I asked. "Did you know that they're resurrecting the ankylosaurs? Do you know why they chose ankylosaurs? They've been finding all kinds of dinosaur bones for so long so how come just ankylosaurs?" "Don't call it resurrecting," she said, "Cuz it's not. And don't talk about those other dinosaur bones either. What they never tell you is that when they dig em up they find em all arranged in the shape of pentagrams or lined up with Orion and those other constellations. Don't even talk about it. I HATE this place." Baffled and suddenly lonely, I found my way to a boiler room, closed myself inside, and wept.