I plugged through the next week keeping my head down and dodging everyone. Word of Dad's job spread like peanut butter on hot toast. I felt like toast.
School became more challenging. Gen ignored me. She was constantly texting someone. I began to wonder if Dad's job was too tantalizing to pass up and she was enjoying the joke with everyone else.
I emptied the remnants of my lunch into the trash. It was like watching my life slip into the bin. I headed for the door.
“Cody!”
I pretended not to hear and picked up my pace. Small footsteps pattered up behind me.
“Cody, slow down,” Gen panted and grabbed my arm.
Out of habit my steps slowed to match hers. We ended up at the bleachers of course. She sat down and pulled out her phone.
“Now who are you texting?” I demanded.
“No one. I'm pulling up EGOR's e-mail.”
My mind whirled as I tried to place the name. Then it came to me. “The program?”
She nodded.
“You're not texting someone about Cody's Dad, the school custodian?”
She looked up with big question marks in her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
My face felt hot as I realized I was accusing her of disloyalty. “Never mind.” I sat down next to her and nodded at the phone. “Why are you talking to EGOR? We turned our assignments in last week.”
“That was just a silly exercise. This is the real thing. We have an appointment with destiny.”
“My destiny seems to be dealing with Dad being the school custodian. It's taking all my energy to avoid Doug and Josh.”
“Forget those Neanderthals. I'm pretty sure we have a rare and unclassified creature living right here in our little valley, and only a few people know about it.”
“Less than a few. I suspect you might be the only one.”
“Well, I thought that too until I found someone on YouTube who suspects what I suspect.”
I suspected the conversation was leading somewhere I didn't want to go. Still it was impossible not to ask the next question. “What do you suspect?”
“Bigfoot,” she barely breathed out the word.
This was worse than dealing with Dad's job. “Gen, you do remember growing up in this town. Remember the Christmas you thought there were elves in your yard and Doug started calling you Gen Gen the elven queen? What about the time Josh stole your wings at Halloween and tied them onto a scarecrow on his porch?”
“That's what Neanderthals do,” she said, but the light in her eyes was fading.
“And let's not forget my toy wookie that I carried with me everywhere and insisted could talk. If I so much as hint that Bigfoot lives in the woods, Doug will revive the wookie tales like a bad remake of King Kong.
She put her hand on my arm. “We won't tell anyone, but you have to see this video.”
There was no debating. I had used my best arguments and lost. Nothing new there.
Leaning against me she held the phone between us.
The screen filled with trees. A shadowy figure plowed through the greenery while eerie music built to a crescendo of crashing cymbals. The picture shrank to a black dot. Then it opened to reveal the cartoon animation of a man behind a news desk. He leaned forward with wide eyes. His bushy eyebrows rose till they ran up against his shock of dark unruly hair.
His deep, smooth voice had just the hint of an accent. “There are undiscovered species living on our planet.” He pointed his finger at us. “Some are as close as your backyard or just a few miles from your home.”
The scene cut back to the vague outline of something crashing through trees while his voice continued. “These shadowy creatures, undocumented by the scientific community, are often dismissed as folklore or urban legends.”
The reporter's wild eyes filled the screen again. “But one of these creatures has been discovered.” His voice dropped to conspiracy level. “In a small, quiet, ordinary, community...like yours.”
He leaned back with a big smile. “Check back for updates.”
Green color flooded the screen and a hairy cartoon creature loped across looking back over its shoulder.
“Cute,” I said, “but what makes this one different from all the other Bigfoot videos out there?”
“EGOR gave me the link. He's following up to my question about what is in our woods. The question he said would take some time. Well, he thinks it's Bigfoot.”
“Gen, EGOR is not a person. It's a program.”
“But this was made by a person.”
“Someone who should be spending his time doing professional commercials.” I wished I had a voice like that.
“It was filmed in our woods.”
“How do you come to that conclusion? It's just a bunch of trees. It could be in Canada for all we know.”
She rolled back through the video and paused, zooming in. “Right there.”
“It's a sign that says No Tresspassing. Lots of people put them up.” But my voice wasn't convincing even me. I knew that sign.
“It's the same as the one in my video,” she said. “It hangs at the same slant and it's spelled wrong. They put an extra s in trespassing, just like the one in our woods. Someone else knows about Bigfoot, and EGOR might know who.”