“If you’ve watched my channel for long, you’ve seen this before: an inexperienced hiker goes into the woods thinking they’ll find something.” He snorts. “No idea what they’re doing—”
The irony, I think. It’s not his words, but his arrogant tone that makes me want to smash a mud pie on his pretty-boy face.
He’s still talking, though. “As you can see, there’s nothing happening in the Biddeford Forest Preserve. No evidence of anything. My expert opinion is that Stevie Sullivan saw a bear, aturkey, or even another hiker, and she’s trying to make a quick buck. The end. Another supposed sasquatch sighting debunked. If you like what you’ve seen today, like and subscribe ...”
He might be partially right, but I’m not listening anymore. I’m planning. I wait for him to disassemble the recording contraption before I emerge from the shrubs. When everything appears to be safely stowed, I stand, taking my time to stretch muscles that are stiff from sitting in one place while L.L. Bean yammered.
I shouldn’t be surprised, but he doesn’t notice me right away. When he does, it’s worth the wait.
“Aaaah!” His absurdly high-pitched yelp surrounds us. He curses, and I can’t make out what he says next, but it ends with “—the dumb little redhead was right.”
Geez, I only wanted to prove to the guy that he isn’t Steve Irwin. I didn’t foresee him thinking I’m Bigfoot. And I really don’t like the way he’s talking about Stevie. An intrusive thought crosses my mind that makes me grin.
It’s stupid, but I’m doing it.
With a guttural roar, I hold up my arms and take a few steps forward.
Is it juvenile? Yes. But I have pent–up frustration to burn off, and L.L. Bean’s condescending dismissal of Stevie makes him an easy target. And somewhere out there Stevie’s on a date with another man. I just want to mess with the guy a little. Burn off some steam.
Crispin scrambles backward, reaching clumsily for something at his waist—best case scenario is it’s a phone. The worst case scenario is that I’m about to get shot.
I’m done here. I dart into the trees as fast as I can in this bulky suit. I’m not winning any races, but I don’t want a bullet in my behind or to accidentally end up on the internet again.
It doesn’t take long for me to find cover. I hunker down, catching my breath and listening for sounds of pursuit. When the woods fall quiet, the crunch of footsteps retreating helps me breathe easier. I’m sweating buckets in this ghillie suit, waiting for the coast to clear.
How did I get here?
I’ve been mistaken for Bigfoot twice in as many weeks. I’ve been chased into the trees by a sasquatch hunter. Before that I was plastered on T-shirts. Maybe Ruth’s right. It’s time for me to get out of the woods.
A while later, I’m in my truck, driving into town while my phone rings. I took the long way back to the parking area, so it’s dusk now. Stevie is probably still on her date. For some reason, my truck moves in the direction of the diner.
“Hey, Adam,” Ruth chirps.
“I’m not in the woods,” I announce triumphantly, like I finally broke off a toxic relationship.
“Woooo!” She laughs. “That’s step one. Step two is joining civilization.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“What brought this on?” As usual, my sister sounds like she’s up to her elbows in toddler stuff.
“I got mistaken for Bigfoot again, and—”
Her cackling laughter cuts me off. “Stop it. You did not.”
“I did it to myself this time.” I comb my hand through my hair, recounting the whole absurd evening. I can hardly get through the story, Ruth is laughing so hard. “Anyway, the guy is a major pain in the—”
“Innocent ears, Uncle Adam,” Ruth reminds me, out of breath.
“Sorry.” I signal onto the road that will take me to the diner.
Ruth’s laughter finally winds down. “Where is Stevie tonight while you’re out playing Bigfoot?”
“She’s on a date,” I grind out.
When my sister gasps, I realize I haven’t filled her in on anything—the covert relationship with Stevie, the town meeting, or my committee appointment. So I do. And as expected, Ruth laughs at me the entire time.
“Oh, man, I needed this. Whew.” She pauses to catch her breath. “It’s like you’re living in one of those old sitcoms where things get more and more out of hand until everything falls apart.” She’s cackling again. “What is your life right now?”
