The Littlest Bigfoot (27 page)

“I know. I'm sorry. I didn't think things would turn out that way. But that isn't what I have to tell you.” He shifted from foot to foot.
Stalling,
Alice thought. “The night we had that rally, when you were running, when we thought you were a . . .” He cleared his throat. “You know.”

“A Bigfoot,” Alice prompted.

Jeremy gave a nod. “Before then, I'd found some of your cousin's, um, hair,” he said. “And I guess a strand of your hair was mixed up with it. And then, when you were running, you must have scraped yourself on a stick. My friend Jo found it.”

Alice wondered if Jo was the girl in the wheelchair, if she'd been put on clue-gathering duty because she couldn't keep up with the mob.

“Jo is supersmart, and she's hooked into this entire network of people who investigate the paranormal. One of her friends works in a lab in California, and we sent him everything we found. Your hair and the blood.”

Alice shrugged, deliberately looking past the boy, toward the gates. A white van cruised slowly along the road that ran parallel to the Center's dirt path. Still no Lee. “So what's the point?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Jeremy pulled a sheet of paper
out of his pocket. “Jo's friend at the lab did this whole analysis.”

“And?”

In the quiet, she could hear the click of his throat as he swallowed. “Gary—the guy at the lab—he didn't know what it was. He just knew it wasn't like anything he'd ever seen before.”

For a long moment, Alice stood frozen in place. Her tongue felt stiff, and her lips—her entire face—felt numb. She felt shocked . . . except a small part of her wasn't shocked, or even surprised. A small part, it seemed, had been waiting for this news and had known all along that it was coming. “What?” she asked, remembering a joke someone made about her at Miss Pratt's. “Is my blood type ‘chocolate'?”

The black Town Car turned the corner, its windshield catching the sun as it came bouncing up the dirt road. “Allie-cat!” called Lee through the opened window. “Merry Christmas!”

“Gary didn't know what the samples were,” said Jeremy. “All he knew for sure is that they weren't human.” Alice just stared. Jeremy talked faster. “And, listen, the thing you need to know is that there are these people from the government. They knew that Jo and I were looking,
and they're probably looking too. I think they were at the rally, and I think they know about”—he waved his hand to encompass the Center and Alice and the lake and maybe even the Yare encampment, miles across the water—“all of this.” He gave Alice a steady look as Alice wondered exactly how much he knew. “I came here to warn you. You need to be careful.”

“But what am I?” Alice whispered as Lee got out of the car in his black jacket and black cap, and started loading her luggage into the trunk. Jeremy didn't answer. Alice stood there, frozen in place, watching as he melted back into the woods and disappeared.

I
MUST BEGIN BY THANKING
my younger daughter, Phoebe, whose interest in Bigfoots sparked my own. When she was six, Phoebe was obsessed with a show on Animal Planet called
Finding Bigfoot
, where a pack of professional Bigfoot hunters traveled the world in search of evidence that the legendary creatures were real. Phoebe got me thinking about Bigfoots . . . about what they'd be like, why they'd hide, and why one of them might want desperately to join the “No-Fur” world.

Phoebe was my “test kid,” or my “keditor,” listening to each draft of this story, telling me whether or not kids would know a certain word or TV show, or think a joke
was funny. I was so lucky to have her help. Plus, she's just great company. Thanks, Phoebe . . . you'll always be one of my very favorite No-Furs!

Special shout-outs to Phoebe's teachers Ben Warrington and Adenike Walker at The Philadelphia School, and her classmates in Primary Unit D, who sat through so many versions of this story, listening raptly when they were into it, squirming when they weren't, and asking when they could buy the book for real. Primary D, please know I am very grateful for your patience; I tried to take out all the squirmy bits, and the answer to “when” is “now.”

My daughter Lucy had an idea for a story about a convention for hidden creatures, who would gather at a summer camp each year and enjoy activities like buffet meals, Zumba classes, and seminars on how to avoid humans. Lu, I'm sorry if I borrowed your idea and twisted it until it became this story . . . and if I used your experiences at a certain summer camp that will remain forever anonymous to make the Experimental Center for Love and Learning—where they won't tolerate intolerance.

Thanks to Aimee Friedman, whose encouragement was invaluable as she listened to the very first description of this story, read an early draft of this book, and told me I had an actual children's story.

My agent, Joanna Pulcini, was, as always, invaluable for her help and insightful feedback in helping Millie, Alice, and Jeremy feel like real people on the page.

Writing for children was a new adventure for me, and I was lucky enough to have the support and expertise of a fantastic crew of professionals at Aladdin. My editor, Amy Cloud (isn't that the best name ever for a children's book editor?), was Alice and Millie's most enthusiastic fan and supporter, and was as nice as could be when she told me that some of the words you can use in adult books you can't use in books for children.

If you're as impressed as I am with how beautiful this book is, thank Jihyuk Kim, who did the gorgeous jacket illustration; Sara Mulvanny, who did the beautiful map and interior illustrations; and designer Laura Lyn DiSiena.

Thanks to Jon Anderson, the president of the Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division, and Mara Anastas, the publisher of Aladdin, for their enthusiasm and support. Thanks also to deputy publisher Mary Marotta; editorial director Fiona Simpson; Lucille Rettino and her associates Carolyn Swerdloff and Matt Pantoliano in marketing; Jennifer Romanello and Jodie Hockensmith in publicity; the brilliant sales team: Michael Selleck, Gary Urda, Josh Wood, Christina Pecorale, John Hardy, Jerry Jensen,
Victor Iannone, Karen Lahey, Danielle Esposito, and Lorelei Kelly; Stephanie Voros and Deane Norton in subsidiary rights; managing editor Katherine Devendorf; and last but absolutely not least, Stephanie Evans Biggins, copy editor, and Tom Finnegan, proofreader.

Thanks to the home team—Terri Gottlieb, who helps with kids, food, and gardening (all of the important stuff); Meghan Burnett, who is, hands down, the best assistant in the world; my mom, Fran; sister, Molly; and brothers, Jake and Joe.

And, finally, to my husband, Bill Syken, who walked with me on the boardwalk in Ventnor, helped me figure out what kind of adventures two kids and a little Bigfoot could get into, and was endlessly patient when I was off in the neighborhood of make-believe: all of my thanks and love.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ALADDIN

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First Aladdin hardcover edition September 2016

Text copyright © 2016 by Jennifer Weiner, Inc.

Jacket illustration copyright © 2016 by Jihyuk Kim

Interior illustrations by Sara Mulvanny copyright © 2016 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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Book designed by Laura Lyn DiSiena

The illustrations for this book were rendered in ink, pencil, and Photoshop.

The text of this book was set in Calluna.

This title has been cataloged with the Library of Congress.

ISBN 978-1-4814-7074-2 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-4814-7076-6 (eBook)