The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots (17 page)

Atticus’s spoonful of ice cream hung in mid-air. “I saw one when I was a little shaver
. I rode on the fender of my dad’s tractor when he worked in the fields. Right before the sun went down, we drove in from the field and a huge hairy thing smelling like dung and dirty dog stopped right in front of us. Looked right at us. Just stood there. Ask anyone around here, and they’ve got a story about old Skunk Ape.”

“Skunk Ape?” Opal sat immobile, staring at Atticus.

“He stinks.” Atticus set his spoon down. “You can smell him from a long ways off. You smell him before you see him if you’re out in the woods.”

I nodded. “What’d he look like?”

Atticus took a bite of his ice cream, rested his hands in his pockets, and leaned back in his chair. “His face kinda looked like a man, but it was a lot darker than the rest of him. His whole body was covered in brown and ginger hair
. But some people see ’em with yellow hair. I think Skunk Apes have different colored hair exactly like we do.”

“How big was he?” I
couldn’t believe my ears. But then, I couldn’t believe my eyes earlier, either.

“Taller than my dad and he was around seven foot tall, maybe taller. Ol’ Sasquatch was a lot bigger than my dad. Had long ol’ arms that hung way past his waist. Funny thing, though, he didn’t act afraid of us. He just turned, took a big step, and disappeared into the woods.”

“That’s exactly how this thing acted.” Opal drew her hands to her face. “He held his arms at me like he wanted to help me. He wasn’t scared at all. But I was.”

“Me, too,” I said.

“I’ve heard stories about old Indians getting hurt in these mountains and the creature carrying them home. Have no way to prove it. Maybe he was trying to help you, Opal.”

Reba’s gaze was glued to us. “What’d
your
Bigfoot look like?”

Opal sat stone still and stared off into space. “Big.”

I giggled. “Yeah, really big. Like, bigger than Atticus big. But that’s all I saw from a distance. He left really fast.”

A customer with high cheekbones, chiseled features, and almond eyes leaned over from the table next to us. Her long dark hair shone with such luster I wanted to reach over and touch it.

“So you saw ol’ Kecleh Kudleh?”

Atticus chuckled. “Well, howdy, Hala. I didn’t see you sitting over there.”

“Atticus, are you flirting with the tourists again?”

Opal blushed.

Reba turned toward Hala. “Who’s Kecleh Kudleh?”

Hala got up from where she sat and joined us at our table. “Kecleh Kudleh is what my people on the reservation call Bigfoot. He’s always lived here with us in these mountains.”

Opal and I looked at one another and grinned.

Lily tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “You’ve seen him, too?”

Hala nodded. “When I was a little girl, Kecleh Kudleh raided my grandmother’s vegetable garden. We knew it was him because of the footprints he left. At night, when I woke up from sleeping, sometimes I saw him looking in my window.”

I felt goose bumps tickle my arm. “Weren’t you afraid?”

Hala shook her head. “No. I was too young to be afraid. I hadn’t been taught to be afraid of the wilderness, but to love and respect it. But I do remember I didn’t like the way he smelled.”

“Oh, he smells just awful.” Opal held her nose.

I was fascinated. “So, Hala, tell me, when’s the last time you saw him? What is he?”

Hala looked up into the sky. “My great-grandfather taught me that Kecleh Kudleh is to be respected as one of the ancient people,
Nun’ Yunu’ Wi
—stone man—and we are to respect him as our great elder brother.”

We all sat staring at her.

Reba shook her head and finally lit her cigarette. “You’ve plumb lost your minds. You better not tell anyone about this. They’ll think you’re on drugs.”

Lily took a sip of her strawberry cheesecake shake and said nothing.

“What’s up, Lil?” I
reached over to stop Timmy from tapping his spoon on the table. The Bigfoot conversation continued, but Lily remained unusually quiet. I shifted closer to her and lowered my voice. “Are you OK?”

Lily plunked her shake down. “Opal could have been killed. What were we thinking dragging her out here like this at her age?”

Timmy wrestled his hands from mine and began tapping again. I let him go. “We all could be killed, Lily, any day now.”

Opal overheard us and touched Lily’s arm. Orange cream sherbet decorated the front of her shirt. “Who you callin’ old? I’m not as frail as you make me out to be
.”

Reba drew on her cigarette and blew the smoke away from us. “And she had enough sense to control her bike. What happened to all that ‘God will take care of us and protect us’ talk?”

Lily scowled and sipped on her drink.

Opal shook her head.
“I’m serious, Kirstie. You better not tell anyone about this Bigfoot deal.”

“I don’t plan on it.” I looked over at Hala. “No offense.”

Hala smiled. “None taken. We understand. My people don’t speak of the Tsul`kälû’ except in whispers.”

I scrunched my forehead. “Tsul`kälû’?”

“Old Slant Eyes.” Hala smiled. “It’s another legend my people tell about the man you call Bigfoot.”

“I’d love to hear it sometime.”

Hala stood to go and pushed her thick dark hair away from her face. “It’s basically about a young girl who lived with her widowed mother, and how Tsul`kälû’ courted her, but when the mother saw what he looked like, she didn’t allow her daughter to wed him because he was ugly. Ever since, he has hidden in these mountains so no one can see how ugly he is.”

I frowned. “That’s so sad.”

Opal stood up. “OK, I think I’ve heard enough. Kirstie, you better not breathe a word of this to anyone in Eel Falls. It’s bad enough people think I’ve lost my mind learning to ride a motorcycle. If people think I’m hallucinating on top of it, my nieces and nephews are sure to slap me into a home and take every penny I’ve got.”

Atticus threw back his head and laughed. “I knew there had to be some spunk in there someplace. You’re a little firecracker aren’t you?”

Opal glared at him. He laughed all the more.

We finished our drinks, said our good-byes to Hala and her friends at her table, and headed next door to the Switchback Inn. It was a good thing Reba booked ahead because the place was packed with no vacancy. Atticus drove by on his truck and honked and waved. He headed back toward The Dragon.

“I bet he makes a good living on that Dragon,” Lily said.

Reba rubbed out her cigarette. “Especially at night. No one but a fool should be riding up there after dark.”

I loved the Switchback Inn with its little garages and roomy bathrooms. We all went back to the room that Timmy and I shared with Lily. Timmy liked sleeping on the floor, and spread his blankets out between the two double beds while I retrieved clean clothes for him to wear after his shower.

I should have seen it coming. Timmy wasn’t engaged, the sugar kicked in, and he got nervous. He found the TV remote, sat on his purple sleeping bag, and flipped the channels.

Rock, rock, rock.

Flip. Flip. Flip.

He sang the
Cops
song at the top of his lungs. Off-key and loud.

Flip flip flip.

Reba reached for the remote. “Here, Timmy, let me help.”

“Ahhhhhh.” Timmy hit himself on the side of the head with his fist. “Ahhhhh. Timmy do it. Timmy do it.”

I glared at Reba. “I told you,” I yelled above Timmy’s screaming.

Reba stood up with her hands out. “Told me what?”

“I told you not to give him all that ice cream.”

“Well, dad-bern it, what kind of world is it when a kid can’t eat ice cream?” Reba shouted at me
.

“An autistic one,” I yelled back.

Timmy stood and flapped, clapped, and paced the floor. He ran into the bathroom and flung an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet and flushed it. He threw himself against the wall, flung himself on the floor, and rolled
back and forth screaming. He threw his body in the bathroom doorway and injured himself rolling side to side against the door jambs.

“Get the weighted blanket,” I yelled.

Reba went out to her motorcycle to the get the blanket out of her saddlebag, and left the door open.

Timmy shot out the door faster than I could grab him.

“Timmy!” I said. “Timmy! Wait!”

24

He ran into the darkness.

Mountains and woods swallowed him with cavernous greed. I was too slow to catch him, and I felt helplessly blind to see him in the shadows.

I heard my motorcycle rev and grow closer. Reba commandeered my nimble Sportster instead of her bulky Goldwing. I shouted and pointed down the road, back toward The Dragon.

“He went that way!”

Reba turned on a dime and accelerated toward the darkness.

“What’s going on?” Lily and Opal ran out of their rooms. Other bikers stood in the parking lot staring at me.

“Timmy,” I said. “He took off.”

A group of college-aged kids loitered on the porch with their sports bikes, drinking alcohol and laughing it up. “Oh, let him go. If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you it’s yours.”
They cackled with laughter.

“Jerks,” Lily grumbled.

“They’re drunk. They don’t know what they’re doing.” Why did I always take up for people? Why did I make excuses for their bad behavior? And why did I care? Timmy was
gone
.

“Let’s pray.” Opal grabbed our hands. “It’s all we can do right now.”

I was in no mood to pray. “You pray.” Was that my voice so full of venom? “I’m calling 9-1-1.”

Lily and Opal prayed, and I paced in front of the Switchback Inn until the police arrived. After fifteen minutes, there was still no sign of Timmy or Reba. I stood in front of our room door and stared into the blackness. Tears streamed down my face
. The fear suffocated me, making breathing impossible. I’d never felt anything like this fear before. Maybe praying would help. Just a little. “These mountains are huge, Lord. He’s like a little gnat out there in the dark. Please, please, God, please, bring him back. I promise I’ll be a better pastor’s wife. I’ll be a better mom. Just please bring my baby back.” I slid down the wall of the porch and collapsed.

Opal sat beside me. “He’s not alone, Kirstie.” She patted my shoulder. “God is with him.”

“I hope so.” Why was my faith so small?
Please God, please be with him.

“Should we call Pastor?” Lily asked. I shook my head. I couldn’t bear to tell Aaron I’d lost our son. Timmy’s disappearance was my fault. If I hadn’t been so stubborn and wanted a motorcycle. Bernice was right. This was foolish.

Fifteen minutes turned to thirty, and thirty turned to an hour, an hour turned to two hours.
The police set up a base of operations at the motel, and volunteer searchers filled the parking lot, including Hala and her family and friends. Even a Native American on crutches, a disabled veteran, volunteered to drive up and down the mountain looking for Timmy.

I remained on the porch. Gluttonous mosquitoes chomped on my sunburned skin and I became pocked with bites. The bites didn’t matter. I needed to be right here, outside this room, when Timmy came back. He had to know where to find me.

“I’m going to lose my mind.
I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” I rested my head in my hands and grabbed at my hair.

“It’s going to be OK,” Lily said. “Don’t worry.
”

“Don’t worry? How can you say that? Timmy’s out there with the bears and the wild boars and turkeys and whatever other wild things are up in those mountains. That big hairy monkey thing is up there, Lily! How can I not worry? And don’t give me some pat, panned Christian answer, either, because I’m sick of hearing it. I’m only human. I have feelings, too. And if God doesn’t like me having them, He shouldn’t have given them to me!” I bawled like one of my grandpa’s baby calves.

The searchers looked at me
and then carried on with their assignments.

I covered my face and sobbed.

Lily and Opal stood there, looking out into the darkness. They didn’t speak anymore, stunned, I’m sure, at my lack of faith.

I wasn’t being the spiritual pastor’s wife. They’d never seen this side of me. Well, the truth was clear now, wasn’t it? I wasn’t some super-spiritual giant. I was just me. Kirstie. I possessed no extra super powers.

As I calmed down to a soft sob, I heard the distinct rumble of Harley pipes. I’d heard bikes going by for hours, but I recognized the sound of my own. Following close behind their rumbles I heard the honks and sounds of a large truck. Atticus’s tow truck. Why did he keep honking like that?

They pulled into the parking lot under the lights, and the answer was clear.

Timmy sat in the cab of Atticus’s truck and pulled on the horn
with unrestrained joy.

The parking lot search team broke into applause.

It struck me they were almost as happy as I was, sharing high-fives, shaking hands and slapping one another on the back.

Officers got on their radios and called in the searchers.

“Timmy!” I jumped up and ran toward the truck. My legs couldn’t carry me fast enough.

“Oh, thank You, God! Thank You, Jesus!”
I ran to the truck and climbed the ladder to the cab door in one leap. The window was down, and Timmy leaned out of it.

“Truck, Mom! Truck! Honk truck, Mom! Look, Mom!” Honk, honk.

Atticus jumped out of the driver’s side of the truck, walked around to me, and wrapped a giant arm around my shoulder.

“I saw this feller on the road and asked him if he needed a ride. He told me no, but I gave him one anyway.” Atticus laughed a big deep belly laugh.

Timmy sat in the driver’s seat, played with the steering wheel, and punched all the buttons.

“I can’t thank you enough, Atticus.” I
leaned into his strong shoulder. It felt safe there.

“Yes, thank you.” Opal walked in front of us, and Atticus let go of me to shake the hand Opal held out. “We were just so worried. So worried.” Opal let go of Atticus’s hand, wiped tears from her face, jumped up, and threw her arms around the giant hero’s neck. Hanging there she kissed him on the cheek.