Zorritos

"Finally, a place named after me!" Franz exclaimed.

He stood in the middle of Plazuela Faustino Piaggio in Zorritos, looking at the wooden derrick. Perusino grinned. "Zorritos means 'little foxes'. Not 'little Franz'."

"That's practically the same."

Perusina walked around the tower. On a beam, she discovered a rusty crank. Next to it, the year 1863 was carved.

"The first oil well in South America was drilled here," she said.

Perusino put his hand on the crank. "I wonder if it still turns?"

"Better not," Perusina said.

Too late.

The crank spun. Something rumbled deep beneath them. The ground vibrated, the tower swayed, and Franz clung to Perusino's leg.

A hot gust of wind whirled sand across the square. For a moment, everything smelled of sea, wood, and machine oil.

Then the Plazuela disappeared.

The three landed on a dusty site full of beams, ropes, and heavy tools. Men pulled at a winch. Above a drill hole, a wooden tower rose into the sky. Beyond it lay Zorritos beach.

Perusina stared at the workers' clothes. "We're in 1863."

A worker ran towards them. "Get away from the drill pipe!"

At that moment, there was a crash.

A steel cable whipped through the air. The long drill pipe swung sideways and rammed a wooden beam. The tower groaned. Workers jumped aside.

"The brake!" someone shouted. "The safety bolt has fallen out!"

The large rope drum spun faster and faster. Perusino ran, jumped over a toolbox, and grabbed a lever. It almost swept him off his feet.

"This thing won't stop!"

Perusina discovered a technical drawing that had been blown off the table. She stepped on it with her boot and picked it up. Three red markings led from the winch to a narrow channel under the tower.

"The bolt must have fallen in there!"

Franz already had his head between two beams. "Something glitters down there."

"Get it!" Perusino called.

Franz crawled into the substructure. Above him, the rope slammed against the wood. Sand trickled onto his ears.

Suddenly, the ground trembled again.

A dark geyser shot out of the drill hole. Black mud splattered against the tower and flowed into a channel leading directly to the beach.

"That's going into the sea!" Perusina exclaimed.

She grabbed a shovel and threw sand into the channel. Two workers immediately understood and helped her. But the black mixture rose faster than they could build the wall.

Perusino let go of the brake lever, jumped onto a rolling barrel, and pushed himself across the ground with it. The barrel rumbled right in front of the channel, tipped over, and blocked the way.

"That was planned!" he claimed.

"Of course," Perusina said, pushing a wooden board after it.

Under the tower, Franz had reached the safety bolt. It lay in a narrow crevice. Franz extended his paw, grasped it, and pulled.

Nothing.

The bolt was jammed.

"Franz!" Perusino called. "The tower won't hold much longer!"

Franz braced both hind paws against a beam. "I'm a Sechura fox. We won't be defeated by a piece of metal!"

With a jerk, the bolt came loose. Franz tumbled backward out of the substructure, holding it triumphantly between his teeth.

Perusina took it, climbed onto the platform, and pushed it through the brake's opening.

"Now!"

Perusino threw himself onto the lever.

The rope drum shrieked, slowed down, and stopped. The drill pipe swung one last time over the workers' heads and finally came to rest.

The sand wall also held. The black water now flowed into an excavated pit and did not reach the beach.

For a few seconds, no one said anything. Then the workers cheered. They had found oil. The first major discovery of its kind in all of South America.

Perusina looked at the dark liquid. "It can power machines and generate light. But if you're not careful, it pollutes water and soil."

The foreman nodded seriously. "A discovery is only progress if you take responsibility for it."

The rusty crank reappeared in the sand. Perusino touched it carefully.

A gust of wind swept across the square.

The next moment, the three stood before the monument in Zorritos again. Cars drove on the road, and they heard the waves from the beach.

Franz looked at the tip of his tail. A black spot clung to his fur.

"A souvenir," Perusino said.

Franz sighed. "I would have preferred a monument."

From the hill, a fox's short bark sounded.

Franz perked up. "Did you hear that? My relatives are welcoming me!"

And before Perusina could object, he was already dashing off.