The trip into the woods was still on my mind the next morning. I opened the blinds to a gray sky. Gen waited by the road. Her breath showed in the cold air as she danced first on one foot and then the other.
I jogged down the stairs pulling on my jacket. It still smelled faintly of wood fire. The door banged behind me, and Gen turned with a fretful smile. She wasn’t dancing just from the cold. Something was stressing her.
Waving her phone in the air she blurted out, “He’s back.”
I caught her flailing hand. “Deep breath. Tell me who.”
“The blogger. There’s a new Bigfoot broadcast.” She pulled her hand free, scrolled through a couple screens, and handed me the phone.
This video started the same as before, with the short burst of cheesy music. The screen pixilated to show the familiar face behind a news desk. It was no longer a cartoon or even an animation. This was the real person.
“George Roge here with another installment of Probable Impossibilities. Tracking Tomorrow’s History Now. For those of you who think I put my foot in my mouth last time...”
He picked up a cookie in the shape of a bare foot and took a bite. “Ah, the taste of cinnamon. Full of antioxidants, you know.” He brushed the sugar crumbs off his chin. “Now back to the subject at hand. Well, foot.”
While flicking crumbs off his fingers, he punched in numbers on the desk phone. “What we need is a leading expert on mysterious encounters in the wild. And I've found just the man.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Let's get him on the phone.”
He drummed his fingers while the phone rang. Finally a man’s voice answered. “Hello?”
George brightened. “Ah, Dr. Fontaine. George Roge here.”
“Yes, George. I've been expecting your call.”
“Excellent. Let's start by telling our listeners about your impressive credentials. Jack is a Senior Professor at Midtown University where he has taught classes in archeology and anthropology for 25 years. He has been published in major scientific journals and is on the board of the Municipal Museum of Archeology. I understand he has a shelf full of awards for his work.”
“A very small shelf,” Jack said with a chuckle.
George leaned forward and his face filled the screen. “But he doesn’t spend all his time in the somber halls of academia. Jack also leads students on field trips. But some of his most compelling work is when he ventures into the wild, alone, on an expedition.”
The camera panned out and George pulled down a screen that showed a picture of Bigfoot peering out from a cluster of trees. “Tell me Jack, have you ever seen Bigfoot?”
Jack laughed. “Not up close and personal.”
“From a distance then?”
“There are many unknowns in the wild that cannot yet be explained. I have discovered artifacts and tantalizing mysteries that are open to interpretation and not easily dismissed by scholars. An open mind is a better tool than rigid science.”
George’s eyes grew large and his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “I think we can say the possibilities are wide open.”
He picked up a cup of coffee and blew on it before taking a noisy sip. “We’re hot on the trail, and it may lead to your backyard.”
My hand trembled as I handed the phone back to Gen.
“Who are these guys?” she said. “Do you think they know about our woods?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, “but we’re going to do a little investigating of our own.”