Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe (2 page)

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Authors: Simon Okill,Simon Okill

Tags: #Bigfoot

BOOK: Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe
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"Come on, Lou, you know I can take it. Haven't puked yet . . . just get a bit queasy, is all." He rubbed his rounded stomach and looked ill. Loud gurgling could be heard from Dwight's ever-hungry gut. He belched. "Sorry, Lou." He belched again. "Are you coming to the crime scene? I mean . . . you ought to, don't you think?"

Lou blew out her cheeks and sighed. "Yeah, I guess so."

Dwight turned to leave the office. As he reached the door, he hovered a moment with sagging shoulders. He turned around and looked at his boss. He had a hurt look on his face.

"That's the 16th time you've called me chubby this week and its only Wednesday morning."

Lou stared at Dwight's cherubic face and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry about that . . . chubby," she said, feigning remorse at Dwight's discomfort. "Come on, lighten up . . . don't be so sensitive." With those words, she got up from her chair and gave a chuckle. "Only kidding, Dwight . . . there hasn't been another bather."

Dwight looked immensely relieved. He blew out his wobbly cheeks as he saw Lou's mischievous smile. "You really got me going there." The deputy paused as if in thought.

"Then who was that on the phone just now, if you don't mind me asking?"

Lou shrugged, "Just some concerned Beaverite informing me that our town welcome sign has been defiled, yet again." And yet again she thought of Duane, as this juvenile prank was right up his alley. "Thought I'd check it out, unless you want to go and take a look?" She smirked. "You don't look that busy."

Dwight looked positively crestfallen. He stood fidgeting and shuffling his feet like a naughty little boy.

Lou knew the answer to her question even before the words had left her mouth-he was looking forward to having a late breakfast with her other deputies, courtesy of Annie's Diner. Lou didn't want to spoil his fun. After all, it was Dwight's birthday and besides, nothing serious ever happened in Big Beaver.

But most of all, Lou felt like some fresh air as it might clear her head of the tequila overdose.

"Go on, chubby, gain a few pounds."

Dwight nodded to the sheriff and left in a rush.

2

MAJESTIC DOUGLAS FIR TREES lined both sides of the narrow two-lane highway that led into Big Beaver. On the incoming side of the road was the town welcome sign.

Sheriff Lou stood by the side of her patrol car with the two-way radio in her hand gazing up at the sign-"You're Welcome To My Big Furry Beaver." She smiled despite her hangover, thinking it just never gets old, although "Furry" was a little lame. Even she had come up with better stuff than that in her teen years. More fool the idiot who named the town in the first place. She decided not to dwell on that. Which led her thoughts straight back to Duane.
Damn it to bloody hell
.

It was late morning and the air felt brisk and invigorating with the strong scent of pine. She breathed in the rejuvenating freshness in the hope that it would help clear her head of tequila fog.

"Nope, that's not gonna cut it," she mumbled to herself, thinking, more coffee, that's what she needed. Lou fished around in the car and removed a silver thermos flask.

It was at that moment she remembered the busload of Japanese tourists arriving in town later that day. The silly suckers were hoping to get a glimpse of Bigfoot . . . perhaps be famous with a snapshot of Bigfoot taking a crap or whatever Bigfoot might do to get its picture taken—not thinking that if Bigfoot really wanted its picture taken there would be thousands of snapshots all over the place by now.

But Bigfoot was the last thing on Lou's fuzzy mind right then, for the last thing she needed was to explain what the graffiti meant to a busload of snap-happy Japanese.

"Fuck it," she muttered. Lou clicked the two-way radio, "Dwight, come in." She clicked again. "Will, come in." Lou clicked again. "Bill, come in." And finally, "Heidi, come in, damn it."

Not one deputy replied, and why should they? Nothing ever happened in Big Beaver.

"Damn it!" Lou clicked on to speak to Noreen.

"I can't get any of my deputies on their two-ways. Get one of the boys out here and clean up the sign." She paused then added, "Like now."

Noreen's faint voice came over the radio, "They're at Annie's having birthday breakfast."

Lou knew damned well where her deputies were. And it didn't take any guesswork on her part to figure out that her deputies had switched off their two-ways to have a quiet breakfast. It wouldn't be the first time nor would it be the last. "Yeah, I kinda know that, Noreen," she said in an irritated voice. "Tell me something new."

Lou listened to the thump-thump of her throbbing headache and longed to be back in bed sleeping it off. She gave the town welcome sign another glance and thought if Duane was responsible she'd kick his no brain ass so hard he'd come back with snow on his boots.

"Well, you know what to do, Noreen. Go next door and tell them to switch their two-ways on, or I'll be real pissed with them and put them all on report."

"But Annie's baked a special cake for Dwight with lots of frosting and whipped cream and stuff."

"Isn't that so nice for Dwight," Lou replied sarcastically. She warned herself not to raise her voice realizing it would only give her headache further reasons to get more pissed than it already was.

"Well . . . seeing as it's Dwight's special birthday with his special birthday cake, I won't ask the sweet thing to come out here and clean the sign. So tell Will or Bill to move their good- for-nothing butts, right the hell now!"

Shit
. . . that did it. Now Lou's hangover had jumped into overdrive. The hammers were pounding the back of her head.

"Okay, Sheriff," Noreen answered timidly.

Lou hooked the radio back into the patrol car and stared at the sign.

"Shit," she muttered, opening her flask and pouring black coffee into a silver plastic cup. She sipped her lifesaver and sighed as the caffeine rush kicked in. Out of the corner of her eye, the sheriff noticed a bush quivering across the road. She smiled as she drank her coffee.

3

CONCEALED BY THE QUIVERING BUSH squatted Chief Mocking Bird. The 30-year-old bachelor was better known to his friends—and some not so close to him—as MB. His shimmering, raven-black hair was tied back in a ponytail, giving him the desired appearance of a local Native American. There were some who said he was good-looking, and he would have to agree.

He was perfectly concealed in the undergrowth covertly watching the sheriff. His lean face was camouflaged with streaks of mud and dark green facial paint. He wore his usual camouflage fatigues that gave the desired effect of the local flora. MB was a wannabe member of the BFRO—Bigfoot Field Research Organization. He wished that one day he'd become a fully-fledged member, but after his last attempt they declared him a raving lunatic.

MB aimed his directional microphone at Sheriff Lou and listened intently. So far all he had was a boring conversation between the sheriff and Noreen over those dumpling deputies. He was tempted to go across the road and say hello to his friend, hence the quivering bush.

But MB guessed quite correctly that Lou was in a particularly bad mood because of what those mischievous teenagers had done to the town welcome sign, and let's not forget that humungous hangover due to the amount of tequila she'd drunk at Abe's Bar and Grill the previous night with himself, and his best friend, good ol' Duane-o.

MB chuckled quietly, and mused, she'd never find out who was responsible for defiling the sign. The law hardly ever did find out those responsible for scribbling on the town welcome sign. It just wasn't a priority—not that there were any priorities in Big Beaver.

MB regarded himself as a stand-up, law-abiding citizen and knew he should tell the sheriff who was responsible, but he—Chief Mocking Bird—was no snitch. And besides, he didn't want to give himself away, not just yet.

As for that Chief thing, well, Mocking Bird liked to stretch the truth for the tourists, for Old Indian legend tells us that man is judged by his nickname, and if he gains respect from nickname, then he is a fortunate man to be sure. Not to mention, said tourists were always ready to buy him a beer or two or three, and have their photo taken with the Big Brave Chief.

MB smiled to himself when he thought back a few years ago-fifteen years to be exact-to when he'd been just a mere pup. He'd been hiding in the undergrowth in this exact spot-something he often liked to do, and had watched Lou Magic-Marker the sign with something lewd. She had done it on a dare-dared by Duane, and as far as he knew, she had only done it the once. It was something that he would never let her forget and would often tease her about.

MB turned his attention away from Sheriff Lou to look at a yellow VW camper heading towards Big Beaver. It was those mischievous kids again—the very same ones that had defiled the town welcome sign the previous night. He hoped they wouldn't give the game away if Lou decided to stop them for no apparent reason, except for being guilty of something as all kids were.

SHERIFF LOU WATCHED the VW camper's approach and decided to let it pass. She recognized the van as belonging to Beau Flucker. It suddenly occurred to her that Beau might very well be responsible for this crime. He was always up to something stupid, but if he didn't do it, probably one of his friends did. Perhaps Duane wasn't responsible after all.

Lou stared at the approaching VW. She could make out three individuals sitting in the front of the camper-Chad the driver, Naomi and Debbie. No Beau. He was probably sleeping off the excesses of the night in the back of the van.

To the sheriff's surprise, the camper stopped suddenly by her patrol car with a screech of rubber, skewing alarmingly, stopping just two inches from the car's rear bumper.

The sheriff raised a curious eyebrow, folded her arms and half wished the teenagers had wrecked her car. It would have made this trip worthwhile.

MB FROWNED and wondered what the teenagers wanted to say to the sheriff. It wasn't normal, getting the law's attention like that. Something was up. He eagerly listened in. He watched Lou put a hand on her hip and indicate with a come-here hand.

The three teenagers frantically bundled out of the camper, gesticulating down the road. The kids bombarded the sheriff with a cacophony of jumbled words, not making any sense at all, except it had something to do with Beau Flucker as his name kept cropping up.

They sure seemed upset about something
, the chief thought. And where was Beau? What if he'd had an accident? A brief look of angst flicked across MB's face. He watched and listened.

Sheriff Lou put up her hands and shouted as loud as she dared, "Shut the hell up!"

The three teenagers faltered for a moment with over-excited faces.

Sheriff Lou nodded, "That's better." She pointed to the road sign. "You kids do that?"

MB waited for the obviously guilty teenagers to answer as they gawped at the sign with blank, innocent looks.

Naomi, a petite, pretty-faced, reddish-haired seventeen-year-old, glanced at the sign and shook her head no.

"Beau's gone missing. He's been missing all night."

MB's first instinct was to shrug with a sad understanding at hearing Beau had gone missing, but Old Indian legend tells us man who eavesdrops should wait until the fat lady has sung. MB gave a mischievous grin as a thought struck him. Beau hadn't really gone missing. He was just fooling around again. This wouldn't be the first time he'd faked his disappearance, nor was it the second time either.

MB tried to remember how many times Beau had gone missing in the woods, claiming Bigfoot had abducted him. The answer eluded him. No matter. Yeah, sure, Bigfoot abducted him,
as if,
thought MB.

SHERIFF LOU LOOKED dubiously at Naomi. She glanced over at the other two fidgeting teenagers then back to the emotional teenager. The sheriff's instincts told her they were fooling around, as usual.

Twice she'd actually fallen for Beau's antics and had mounted time-consuming search parties into the woods for the idiot, only to call off the search as Beau had miraculously shown up in town telling everyone, who was dumb enough to listen, that Bigfoot had abducted him.

How Beau managed to escape the clutches of Bigfoot was never determined, for not even Beau could come up with an adequate explanation. Small wonder then that no one believed Beau no matter how much he insisted he was telling the truth.

Pretending to be abducted by Bigfoot was a well-worn practical joke, realized Lou. It was getting old. Many Beaverites and tourists alike had claimed Bigfoot had abducted them, some even going so far as to say they were sexually abused by Bigfoot. A certain member of Beau's family, namely his father, Walt Flucker, claimed he'd also been regularly abducted by Bigfoot, not to mention
regularly
taken by tall, blond aliens from the planet Abba.

"Oh yeah . . . gone missing has he? Spent the night in the woods again, have we?" Lou asked sarcastically.

She sniffed Naomi's filthy t-shirt. It stank of wacky tobaccy. The sheriff shook her head warily, unable to summon up the tiniest amount of concern for Beau's whereabouts.

"Hope you told your parents where you were last night?" she warned with raised eyebrows.

Chad, a pimply-faced, scrawny, seventeen -year-old with a mop of black hair, jumped nervously up and down on the spot. He pointed into the woods, directly at MB.

"Beau went to take a piss behind a tree and that was the last we saw of him . . . honest."

Lou tilted her head and folded her arms as she looked at Chad. She gave him a dubious look. She wagged her finger.

"Better not be messing with me, Chad, I'm not in the best of moods right now."

"You gotta believe us, Sheriff," Debbie interrupted. She was an overweight, bespectacled seventeen-year-old with short, spiky black hair.

They were certainly putting on a good act, thought Lou. They seemed genuine for once.

"I suppose you're going to tell me Bigfoot took Beau . . . again?"

"Well, yeah? I guess … Maybe … I don't know." Chad said. "It obviously wasn't aliens."

Naomi nudged Chad in his guts with her elbow, beseeching, "Chad's right . . . it wasn't the aliens . . . we don't know who or what took Beau, but it's the truth . . . he's gone missing . . . and for real this time."

Lou rubbed her throbbing temple and sighed. Well this was a new slant on things. Beau's friends always claimed they knew what had abducted Beau-a Bigfoot. She sighed heavily. What if they were telling the truth this time? Lou doubted it, but what if they were? What a fucked-up start to the day.

But Sheriff Lou had her job to do and that meant to serve the community to the best of her abilities. And that meant if someone, especially some snot-nosed kid went missing she had to take it seriously. But how seriously? That was the all-important question.

Well, that depended on the circumstances and the person who had gone missing. How could she take Beau Flucker's disappearance seriously with his past history of fake abductions? But she knew she'd at least have to go through the motions and look like an interested sheriff doing her honor- bound duty.

Lou blew out her cheeks and sighed heavily, "Okay . . . where exactly were you when Beau supposedly disappeared."

Naomi pointed in the direction they had come from, a ways up the road. "In the clearing . . . up at Little Beaver."

Little Beaver! That place is becoming a tourist trap for alien abductions and Bigfoot sightings. She was reminded of last year's incident when two locals went missing for almost two days. She was on the verge of contacting the FBI when Walt turned up with both of them, claiming to have been abducted by aliens and experimented upon. All three would not divulge what these experiments were.

Better take a look,
thought Lou. She scanned from one innocent face to the next and knew beyond all doubt she should have stayed in bed this morning. Nothing ever happened in Big Beaver. She walked up to the VW van and peered in the back to see a mess of camping gear, but no Beau.

"One of you had better come back with me. That's you, Chad."

Chad perked up and looked ready to go with a wide grin.

"You two kids had better get back to town." She gave the two girls a questioning look. "I don't suppose you've been drinking and puffing on the magic dragon?"

Debbie and Naomi shook their heads, no, and tried to look like two little schoolgirls. They failed miserably.

Lou smiled knowingly, "What the heck . . . I was your age, once." She looked at Chad. "Come on, dufus, you can show me where you were last night."

"Right on, Sheriff!"

Lou turned towards the woods on the other side of the road and called out, "See you later, MB." She waved to the quivering bush.

FROM HIS HIDING PLACE, deep in the undergrowth, MB the eternal voyeur, watched Chad hurry round the sheriff's patrol car and get into the passenger side. He dropped his directional microphone when Lou called out and waved to him.

"Shit!" MB prided himself on being invisible for Old Indian legend tells us that man who is invisible cannot be seen.

MB watched the sheriff drive off for Little Beaver. Girlish giggling drew his attention back to the two teenage girls. Now what were those kids up to? Beau taken by Bigfoot! That's impossible. Most likely ol' Duane-o put them up to it. Yeah, that's it. Hold on though, Duane wouldn't be that dumb. So what if Bigfoot had taken Beau? Nah, there were no such creatures as Bigfoot, thought MB, even though as a crypto-zoologist it would have been his sworn duty to believe in such things.

He watched the tail lights of the sheriff's patrol car disappear round a bend in the road. A moment later the VW camper started up and sputtered off towards town.

MB's thoughts returned to Bigfoot. Suppose, just suppose, Bigfoot had taken Beau? That would be fucking amazing. At that very moment, he felt an overwhelming excitement at the prospect of Beau being kidnapped by Bigfoot. A new sense of purpose overwhelmed him, but it was only fleeting. He quickly told himself to get a grip on reality-there were no such creatures as Bigfoot. With a woeful sigh, MB removed his headphones and started to pack all his covert listening gear into a camouflaged rucksack.

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