I woke in the darkness to the sound of soft voices in the hall. The clock's red glow showed 5:00 a.m. Mom and Dad were leaving. The whispering faded and I slipped back into sleep.
It was several hours later when I made my way down the stairs for breakfast. I was surprised to still hear people talking, but it was only the television. Nate was glued to the screen. Without turning around he said, “Cereal is on the table.”
I filled my bowl and stood behind him. “Must be something really good.” I said.
“Shhh.” He waved a hand at me.
With my mouth full I said, “You're watching the morning news show?”
Nate grunted. Three people in business suits sat around a desk. I guessed they were discussing the stock market.
One of the commentators said, “I admit the videos are cute, but you can’t take this guy seriously. He’s a YouTube star not a reporter.”
Another laughed. “His videos have gone viral. Everyone is watching them.”
The third guy said, “Let’s take a look at one more video.”
The wall behind them lit up and the Cheerios stuck in my throat. My eyes watered as I tried to swallow. Six frames filled the screen. George’s reports.
I watched mesmerized as the cursor floated across them and clicked on the last video. The cheesy music began and there was the Google Car. When it ended they cut to a commercial.
I coughed. Nate took one look at me and clicked off the television.
I turned and made a hasty retreat to the kitchen.
“Hold on kiddo,” Nate called. In one bound he filled the doorway. “What’s going on?”
I shrugged. “I just inhaled my cereal.” I rinsed the bowl and put it in the dishwasher.
“What do you know about those videos?”
I was trapped, and not just because Nate blocked the doorway. He was the last person I wanted to talk to about Bigfoot.
“Come on Cody. Those videos have Dad’s book all through them. Who is this George Roge guy? If you know something, spill it.”
Maybe it would be good to have an adult involved, even if it was Nate. With resignation I pulled out a chair and sat down.
Nate leaned on one of the other chairs. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t know who he is. The videos just started showing up a few days ago. We didn’t figure out it was Dad’s book until last night.”
“We?”
First mistake. I didn’t want to drag Gen into this. I decided to try another angle. “Everyone at school is talking about them.”
“The whole school knows about Dad’s book?”
“No, no. They’re just talking about Bigfoot.”
Nate stood up. “What about Bigfoot?”
“You know. Like the videos say. He’s living in the woods.”
Nate’s face paled. “That’s stupid. Everyone knows Bigfoot doesn’t exist.”
“Well, something is out in the woods.” I knew I should shut up, but I couldn’t stop. “I’ve seen it.”
“You just imagined it,” Nate said.
I felt my face flush with anger. “Imagine! Imagine?” My voice rose until I was shouting. “Well you’re wrong. Bigfoot is in the woods. George Roge does know about Dad’s book. The Google Car did come through our town. And there’s even a picture of the costume shop with the guy in the gorilla costume going in the door.”
Nate collapsed into the chair.
Without looking back I brushed past him, grabbed my backpack, and slammed the front door on the way out.
Gen was quiet while I ranted about my encounter with Nate. We were halfway to school before I ran out of steam. I felt as if I’d just run a mile in the middle of summer.
Gen stopped outside Harry’s. “We have time,” she said. “Let’s grab a soda.”
I followed her inside. Harry waved from his usual spot behind the high counter. A man with a camera slung over his shoulder poured coffee from one of the gourmet pots.
The cooler had not been restocked. I took out the root beers. Wiping them off, I glanced up at the news crawler. My stomach flipped. The moving words proclaimed Bigfoot sightings in small town.
I turned. Harry was staring at me. Our eyes met. For the first time I think he really saw me. His eyes briefly darted to the news crawler, then dropped to the cameraman.
He wasn’t one of the regulars. Setting his coffee and paper on the counter he said, “I’m looking for Main Street.”
“You’re on it,” Harry said, his fingers flying over the cash register keys. “Anything in particular?”
“Laundromat, oil change shop, costume outlet?”
Harry pushed up his glasses. His magnified eyes fastened on the man’s face.
The man shifted in agitation. “Heard you might have a Bigfoot sighting in the area.”
Harry stared at him for a minute, and then began to chuckle. Handing the man his change he said, “I get some strange customers, but haven’t seen Bigfoot. Maybe he doesn’t like my coffee.”
The man dropped a business card on the counter. “If you can give me any leads, I’ll mention your place. Good advertising.” He turned and hurried out.
Gen stepped up to the counter and snatched the card. She narrowed her eyes at Harry. “Don’t you tell him anything.”
Harry winked at her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He held up his hand and crossed his fingers. “Bigfoot and I are like that.”
Gen frowned. “We don’t want anyone nosing around here.” She stuffed the card into her pocket and marched outside.
Harry raised his eyebrows at me and I knew we had bonded. “That wasn’t the first stranger asking questions today,” he said. I nodded, gave him my money, and hurried after Gen.
She held the business card in her hand. “He’s from out of town,” she said. “A freelance photographer. We have to get to Bigfoot.”
She stepped off the curb. I jerked her back as a horn blared and a wave of exhaust swept over us. Howling college kids stuffed into a jeep roared past. A Bigfoot flag the size of a minivan flapped out the back and just missed snapping me in the face. As the jeep disappeared around the corner I read the bumper sticker. Follow the Footprints.
Gen’s fingers dug into my arm. “They’re coming in from out of state. We need to do something.”
“Like what? We have to go to school.”
“Get real. We can’t go to school. We have to protect Bigfoot from them.”
“But who’s going to protect us from Bigfoot?”
“We have to warn him,” she said.
“Warn him? Like, hey big boy it’s time to pack up and get out of town?”
Her mouth tightened in a stubborn line.
“He’ll be all right, Gen. You read the stories. He’s been avoiding contact forever. He’s good at it.”
I started walking. She followed in silence, but I could feel the steam building up. I was downing the last drop of soda when she grabbed my arm. Root beer spilled down my jacket. What was left in my mouth went down wrong. For the second time that morning I coughed and sputtered. She jerked me around and pointed.
Through blurry eyes I saw a van with multiple antennas. Black letters on the side read Valley News.
Before I could catch my breath to respond, a tour bus with a bored driver cruised past. Gray-haired men and women armed with cameras gazed out the windows with eager grins.
“Cryptid Hunters Ltd,” Gen read the side of the bus. “It’s heading toward the school.” She broke into a run and I dashed after her.
Minutes later we rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. The tour bus had parked a block away from the school. The side of the bus twinkled with flashes of light as seniors with cameras crowded the windows.
“Are they really taking pictures of the school?” I asked. “Is that legal?”
“Ask them.” She pointed to police cars in the parking lot. An officer was setting up cones and yelling at the driver to move the bus. Another policeman wave
d kids in to the school.
Gen stepped behind a delivery truck and pulled me beside her. “This way,” she said.
Ducking behind the line of parked cars we crept to the outskirts of the parking lot behind the school.
Yellow caution tape roped off the fence. Cones lined the parking lot.
“Now what?” I asked.
“It’s perfect,” she said. “That keeps everyone out.”
“Including us.”
She shook her head with determination. “You’ll just have to make a distraction while I climb over the fence.”
“You’re not going in there alone.”
“You have a better idea?”
I did, but I was reluctant to share it. I tried again to convince her to give it up. “We could go to school and forget this whole thing.”
“I’m waiting for your better idea.”
I was sure I would regret it, but there was no way to stop her. I couldn’t let her go alone. “I know another way.”
Her face lit up. “You do?”
“Follow me.” I wasn’t worried about getting in. It was getting out that had me concerned.