“I’m telling you Dad doesn't have enough technical know how to make a video. He can hardly find the fast forward on the DVD player.”
We sat down on the bleachers. Ten minutes left before we had to be in class.
“What about Nate?” Gen said. “He and Desiree make videos. Maybe they are working with your dad on it.”
“Nate? Working on something with Dad?” I shook my head. “Last time Nate and Dad did something together was when he played little league.”
“It has to have some connection to the book. What's the story about?”
“I’m not sure. Midlife crisis I think. Fountain of youth. New Job. I think Dad’s trying to find himself.”
She looked thoughtful. “Could be a promotional stunt from his publisher.”
I snorted. “He doesn’t have a publisher. And his book doesn’t even mention Bigfoot.”
“Let’s watch the video again. Maybe we missed something.” She pulled it up on her phone. “Whoa,” she said. “He put out a new one.” She leaned against me and I tried to focus on the phone.
It started with the now familiar music and the news desk.
“George Roge here with Probable Impossibilities. Tracking Tomorrow’s History Now.” He started dialing the phone. “Let’s see if we can get Dr. Fontaine on the phone.”
A man’s voice answered. “Yes?”
“Jack?”
“No, this is Professor Edmund Fitzsimmons. Jacques is out on field work.”
George leaned into the camera and grinned. “Chasing Bigfoot?”
“Bigfoot!” Edmund laughed. “That’s a good one even for Jacques. No, no. He’s off to South America to find ancient artifacts.”
George winked. “I see,” he drawled out the words. “Primate artifacts?”
“Pre-Columbian artifacts,” Edmund said. “I’m afraid you’ll need to call back in a week or so.” He hung up.
George sat back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. He wasn’t wearing shoes or socks. “He was certainly in a hurry to get off the phone, wasn’t he? Who knows what Jack may have discovered?” He wiggled his toes.
The video ended. The bell rang. We raced for the school.
Gen tugged on my arm as we neared Bertram’s class. “Slow down,” she said. “We don’t want to make a grand entrance.”
I grinned and said, “Walk casually.”
It wouldn’t have mattered. We could have been invisible. All attention riveted on the back of the room. Doug and Josh sat on their desks like judges holding court.
Elroy stood before them arguing his case. “There are plenty of unknowns. You can’t brush aside the existence of Bigfoot without investigation. It’s arrogant.”
“And you think this George Roge has investigated?” Doug said.
“He’s examining the possibilities,” Elroy said.
“Possibilities?” Doug turned to Josh.
‘Without facts?” Josh added.
They shook their heads and said in unison, “Life can be reduced to probabilities.”
Laughter swept through the room followed by taunts.
“You need hard evidence.”
“Where’s the skeleton?”
“Who's an eyewitness?”
“Show me first-hand experience.”
Doug’s eyes swept the room and locked on me. “Wookie boy,” he called. “You have first-hand experience. Tell us what you know about Bigfoot.”
I could feel heat rising up my neck as anger began to build. Doug’s eyes sparkled with glee. “It’s for science.”
“What would a Neanderthal know about science?” Gen asked in a low voice.
The door thumped closed and Bertram's voice dominated. “I’m glad to see the class engaged in scientific inquiry.”
Chairs scraped. Feet pounded. Books thumped on desks. We all made a mad scramble to get to our seats.
Bertram watched with indulgence while the chaos settled in to the normal quiet of his classroom.
“Now then,” he said, “can someone explain this fanciful interest in mythical creatures?”
Elroy responded. “A blogger named George Roge has been following a story of Bigfoot sightings. He has videos of it.”
“Really?” Bertram said. “What respectable news outlet is carrying his story?”
“YouTube,” someone called out.
“I see. Very scientific. Shall we watch this remarkable documentation?”
Bertram pulled up the videos on his laptop and played them on the class screen. I sunk down in my chair wishing I were home with the flu or at least had overslept. Viewing them with Bertram’s supervision was like watching a five year old explain Einstein’s theory of relativity.
Bertram spent the rest of the class debunking the videos. He chided us for not being more on top of modern technology. He demonstrated how to perform rigid scientific proofs. He explained the need for careful documentation of repeatable experiments. By the time class was over, everyone but Gen, and me, was a true skeptic.
Bertram’s presentation was unarguable. But I had seen the creature. Not that I was going to admit that to anyone. The one wookie boy comment had rekindled all my fears. I knew it was just a matter of time before the whole school joined Doug and Josh in their game.
I hoped Bertram’s logical analysis would put an end to the topic. No such luck. It followed us into Lit class.
Ms. Kendrick breezed into the room, and conversations died down. She opened her laptop. Her finger hovered over the enter key, and her eyes swept the room. For a moment I could see her in the teepee as she poured tea.
Her hand descended and my hope died. The wall screen flooded with green color. I felt green inside. The familiar music sounded and George appeared. She froze the image.
“Since the hubbub of the school today is focused on Bigfoot, I thought we should consider the possibilities of Mr. Roge’s reports.”
Once again we were subjected to George Roge and all his blogs. I didn’t watch. From the corner of my eye I could see Doug and Josh whispering together. They frequently glanced in my direction, stifling laughter and passing a paper back and forth.
Each video more firmly cemented me in their primitive minds as wookie boy. My future would be limited to standing in front of a costume store in a gorilla outfit holding a sign about the latest sale.
“What is the possibility that Bigfoot exists?” Ms. Kendrick asked.
Doug and Josh led the charge. Almost verbatim they repeated Bertram’s arguments.
Ms. Kendrick was not daunted. “Scientists are constantly revising their opinions. At one time they thought Venus was inhabitable and the Earth was flat. The argument is not that we shouldn’t use logic to prove theories. The argument is that we should think outside known parameters and consider the possibilities. Can anyone think of an example?”
Gen’s face lit up. “The platypus.” Doug and Josh looked blank. Her voice was soft and her expression carried pity for lesser creatures as she explained. “You know, warm blooded, lays eggs, has a bill and webbed feet, nurses its young.”
“Great example,” Ms. Kendrick said. “A creature that rocked the scientific world. Much like Bigfoot would.”
Half the class had swung back in favor of Bigfoot by the time the bell rang.
The following classes were a washout. The teachers didn’t have a chance of holding our attention on any other subject. George Roge reigned throughout the school like news of a rock concert. It was Bigfoot vs. Neanderthals, Science vs. Imagination, Possibilities vs. Probabilities. The few who hadn’t seen the videos in a classroom were staring at their cell phones as they walked to the bus.
Gen waited for me at the bleachers, her eyes glued to her phone.
“Aren't you tired of watching those videos?” I slumped onto the bleachers. “I'm Bigfoot toe jam. My only hope for a normal life is to move to a new town.”
She looked up. “You’ll have to move at least a hundred miles.”
&
nbsp; “What?”
“There’s a new video.”
My brain felt numb, but I sat up to watch the newest release.
“George Roge here with Probable Impossibilities. Tracking Tomorrow’s History Now.”
His voice dropped to a husky, confidential whisper. “We’ve heard from Jack. He’s stumbled across something really big. Yes, I said – Big.” He wiggled his eyebrows and his voice returned to newscast drama mode. “There are forces that would like to suppress or even misuse Jack's discovery.
“On a mundane field trip in the South American Mountains, Jack uncovered an unprecedented find. He is now determined to keep it safe from exploitation.
“Regrettably, his foray into the wilderness drained his strength. To keep his secret safe, he was forced to abandon the refuge of medical attention and has made a daring escape. Now he’s on the run. We suspect that his colleague, Jill, is with him.”
George activated a screen that lit up with a map of the United States. “They have been assuming new identities and working their way across the country.” He shrugged. “We don’t know if or when we’ll hear from either of them again.
“However, my detailed analysis of the Bigfoot film leads me to believe that our quarry resides somewhere in this vicinity.” Like a weatherman he drew a circle on the map with his finger.
“Closer to your backyard than you had dreamed.”
I stared in horror. Our valley was in the middle of the circle.