Talk of the Town (14 page)

“What’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever found?” Fred wanted to know.

Ellis smiled, her pale hair gleaming in the dancing firelight. “That’s easy. Five years ago I traveled to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to investigate a report from a couple who said they had seen a Sasquatch. Not only had they seen it, they had nearly fallen over it!”

“Oh my stars.” Florence looked nervous. “Did it hurt them?”

“Nothing like that,” Ellis reassured her. “The woman and her husband had been hiking. She was in the lead when they came to a huge downed tree blocking the path. Her husband gave her a leg up and she scrambled onto the trunk. She was just about to leap off the other side when she glanced down and saw an enormous hairy creature in a depression half-hidden on the other side of the log.”

“I would have had a heart attack,” Florence pronounced. “What a scare! What did the creature do?”

“Well, the woman thought it was a bear, as we probably all would have. The creature began to rise, and she screamed, but before she could get back down off the log, the creature stood up, leaped out of the depression and ran
on two legs
until they couldn’t see it anymore.”

“Bears can walk on two legs,” Fred stated.

“But they run on all fours, particularly when speed is needed,” Ellis told him. “According to the interviews done with this couple, who both saw it, this creature had long arms that it drew up exactly like a jogger would as it ran. They also stated that once it stood up, it never went back to all fours again.”

Fred whistled. “What else did they see?”

Ellis smiled. “Quite a bit. The woman, as it turned out, was an artist. She specialized in portraiture, and she was able to create a sketch based on what she had seen. The result was one of the most detailed depictions of a Sasquatch—a Bigfoot—that I have ever seen.”

“Really?” Even Vera looked impressed, and Alice knew her friend considered the whole notion of a primitive North American man-ape to be entertaining science fiction and nothing more.

“Really,” Ellis assured her. “She drew three different sketches. One was her initial impression of the creature lying in its nest, the second was a three-quarter profile of the face, and the third showed it running.”

“Nest?” Alice asked, intrigued.

“Oh yes. I forgot to tell you that the couple had a camera. They didn’t get pictures of the creature in the initial excitement, but they did photograph the spot where they had found it lying. The depression was deliberately hollowed out. You can see where the dirt that was dug up was mounded around the edges. It was filled with leaves and twigs and coarse dark hair with reddish tips. They even thought to bring back some of the hair.”

“And?” Florence asked. “What was it?”

Ellis smiled. “We don’t know. Or perhaps I should say we know what it is not. A DNA analysis showed that it is not a known species. Not an ape, not a bear, not a man. I believe it came from an unidentified species currently known as Bigfoot or Sasquatch. But until we actually find one, the conclusion reached by the Sasquatch Society is that it must be considered a working theory rather than a fact.”

Alice was impressed. Ellis wasn’t delusional as Alice had assumed. Instead, the woman spoke more like a researcher compiling empirical data and being careful not to leap to an unproven conclusion. “So exactly what does someone from your organization do to investigate?” she asked.

“Journey to the region, interview eyewitnesses and anyone else who may have pertinent information and try to preserve any evidence,” Ellis said. “In your local case, the tracks have disappeared but the hair still exists.”

“And what will you do with it?”

“It will be sent away for DNA analysis.”

“Will you let us know when you find out what it is?” Florence asked.

“Or what it isn’t,” Ronald mused.

“Of course.” Ellis smiled at them. “I promise you will be the first people I call.”

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. Not long after the s’mores were finished, everyone settled down for the night. It was cold, it was dark, and no one seemed to care that it was barely ten o’clock.

Alice certainly didn’t. She had worked the day shift at the hospital, and her feet were letting her know it was time to rest. She lay down in her sleeping bag and zipped herself in. God wouldn’t mind if she said her prayers in this position.

Dear Heavenly Father
, she began,
bless each of us engaged in tonight’s endeavor. Keep us safe and in Your care. Bless Wendell, wherever he is, and keep him safe too. Our hearts would be so gladdened if You led him home, Father. But if that’s not in Your plan, give us the courage and grace to face it
.

She went on, asking for specific blessings for a number of people in the Grace Chapel congregation who had asked to be lifted up in prayer last Sunday morning. She prayed for the swift healing of Penelope Smeal’s ankle, for the family of a woman who had passed away during her shift today, for Mark to have a successful experience in San Diego, and she prayed for herself to be more tolerant, to be kinder and more patient.

Finishing her prayers, she realized that all three of her tentmates were asleep, and she was briefly amused. Apparently no one was too worried about a Bigfoot coming into camp tonight.

She fell asleep to the sound of Florence’s snoring.

Alice’s eyes flew open in the dark, but she was unsure of what had awakened her. A moment later, she heard a slight but distinct movement in the thicket of shrubs and trees directly behind their campsite.

She looked in the direction of her tentmates, but without any light inside the tent it was too dark to see more than three lumps on the other mattresses.

The noise came again. Quietly, Alice slipped out of her sleeping bag, taking a bracing breath of the chilly air outside her little cocoon. Her slip-on, all-weather mocs were parked right beside her sleeping bag, and she quickly shoved her feet into them and grabbed the insulated jacket she’d brought along.

Unfastening the flap of the tent, she stepped outside and straightened up. The bright moonlight lit up the clearing and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. She took a few tentative steps forward and stopped suddenly as she heard the rustling noise again. It was coming from the direction of the cooler and backpacks where their food had been stored away from the tents. Alice headed across the clearing, firmly telling herself there was no such thing as Bigfoot. She hoped.

Suddenly a large raccoon popped up on the top of the cooler. Alice stifled a cry as her hand flew to her heart. He held a marshmallow in his hand, and as he surveyed her, Alice could have sworn his black eyes were laughing. A second later, he leaped off the cooler and vanished into the bushes with a last flourish of his bushy, banded tail.

Alice walked over to the cooler. She could see one of the backpacks lying open on the ground.
That little rascal!
A flash of white caught her eye and she realized it was one of the marshmallow bags that their nocturnal visitor had dragged away. She carefully picked her way through the bushes to retrieve it.

As she turned around, she was surprised to see Florence emerge from their tent. The big woman looked around and hesitated, then walked purposefully into the woods along the path that led around the pond, looking around her as she went. As she went farther and farther and the brush became denser, Alice could hear her shoving branches out of her way.

She didn’t want to hail Florence across the clearing and wake everyone else, so Alice decided to go after her and was just about to cross the clearing to do so when Ronald came out of his tent, followed by Fred. The two men quickly took off along the same path that Florence had taken.

“… sounded like something big …” were the only words she was able to make out as the men vanished also.

Thoroughly entertained, Alice surmised that Ronald and Fred had heard Florence crashing through the brush. She had enough of a head start that she was completely out of sight before they emerged from their tent. Alice wondered what on earth they thought they were chasing.

Since Florence was being attended to, Alice turned back to the food and began to make sure the backpacks were secured.

Suddenly she heard Vera’s voice saying, “Come on!” Alice turned to see Vera and Ellis hurry down the path.

Since there was no one still sleeping, Alice called after them, but they didn’t hear her. A little dazed by the speed with which the camp had emptied, Alice stepped back into the clearing and shook her head.

Calculating Florence’s progress, Alice figured she was at least halfway around the pond by now. Alice could go in the opposite direction and meet up with her to deliver the disappointing news that a raccoon had been the source of the noise that Florence had heard.

She turned to her left and began to walk around the pond. Although the path was well-marked, bushes overhung it in places, and branches downed by wind and snow during the winter made walking hazardous. She paid careful attention to her footsteps, using the bright moonlight to aid her. As she got closer to the point where the path from the road fed into the one that ran around the pond, the way became easier. More people used that end of the pond, rather than fighting their way through the brush to the far end where her friends had set up camp.

A scream split the air ahead of her. Florence! Alice began to run. She jumped over a log across the path and dodged around a tree, the noise of her running masking any other sounds, and ran smack into Florence, who was rushing her way at full speed.

Down they went in a tangle of arms and legs. Alice’s breath whooshed out as the bigger woman landed squarely on top her.

“It’s behind me!” Florence gasped, clutching at Alice. “I heard it.”

“No, it’s not,” Alice said, hearing the men crashing through the brush toward them. Suddenly she realized that, like Florence, Fred and Ronald probably would not see them until they were on top of them.

As if the thought had been enough to make it happen, Ronald burst out of the brush, tripped over a root and crashed down beside them. Two seconds later, Fred fell over Ronald. He landed on his back on the ground, staring up at the sky.

Slowly, Fred turned his head. He surveyed the other three sprawled in various ungainly positions around him. “We were chasing
you
?”

“It was
you
chasing me?” Florence sat up. “I thought it was Bigfoot,” she said in disgust.

Another crashing sound came and Alice realized that Vera and Ellis also would have heard the scream and were coming to the rescue as well. “Stop!” she yelled.

And just in time. The two women halted barely soon enough to avoid falling over the tangle of bodies on the ground.

Both women were panting. Ellis was looking at them all with wide eyes.

Vera took one look, immediately grasped the situation and began to laugh. “Which one of you was Bigfoot?” As she spoke, she extended a hand to Fred, braced herself and tugged him to his feet. He immediately did the same for Ronald.

“I suppose I was,” Florence said sullenly. “But I thought
they
were.” She pointed at the men.

Sensing a sulk coming on, Alice explained what she had seen as Fred tried to give her a helping hand. Finally, both men took Florence’s arms and hauled her upright. She immediately began brushing off her clothes with an air of wounded dignity.

“A raccoon?” Ellis sounded so disappointed Alice couldn’t help grinning.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “That’s all it was, a single raccoon, after our marshmallows.”

Fred started to laugh. “Some Bigfoot hunters we are, making enough noise to wake the dead. If there was any kind of critter here, it’s probably halfway to Canada by now.”

“Laughing all the way,” Vera added.

Ronald began to chuckle and Alice felt her own lips twitch. Ellis also saw the humor in the situation, and as the five of them laughed until they were holding their sides and wiping tears, Florence finally cracked a smile and laughed a little as well.

When the merriment abated, Alice said, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had quite enough Bigfoot hunting for one night. I’m going back to sleep.”