Chapter 15
We were going to die. The ground rushed toward us. Shouts rose. I couldn't see through the eyeholes. We crashed into something softer than I had expected. Before I could catch my breath we were jolting over hard ground.
Gen’s grip tore loose. The gorilla head flew off. Blurred images of tree branches flashed past. The rough ground clawed at me. I bounced over gravel and stones and landed on my back.
Gasping for breath, I opened my eyes. The trunks of tall trees reached into a darkening sky. Large branches swayed in agitated motion. The wind littered the air with dead leaves. I groaned and rolled onto my side.
The toy wookie leaned against a rock while the leaves swirled around it in the cold air. It gave me a reproachful look.
Nate’s face came into view. “You okay?”
I took a quick inventory and decided nothing was broken or hurting too badly. I nodded. “How’s Gen?”
“Gen’s fine, but I think you gave me a black eye when you crashed into me.” The wind whipped his hair around giving him a mad scientist look.
I sat up. “That’s the least you deserve,” I said with disgust.
“What are you talking about?” Des asked.
“Him.” I pointed at Nate. “You stole my wookie. You lied about it.” I jumped to my feet ignoring the scratches and bruises that covered my body. “You dressed up like Bigfoot and chased me through the woods.”
Gen hobbled over beside me. “The whole school knows that I think Bigfoot is living here. Half the town is ready to search the woods for him.”
Des put her arm around her. Gen’s voice quivered. “You made me think Bigfoot was real.”
“Whoa, hold on a minute,” Nate said. “I didn’t steal your wookie.”
“I suppose that’s not your treehouse?” I said.
“Of course that’s my treehouse. Well, mine and Desiree’s.”
“And I supposed the wookie climbed up the tree and locked himself in that case.”
Nate raked his fingers through his hair and heaved a sigh. “No, I put it there.”
“So you did steal it.”
“Actually, I rescued it. From the trash. Mom was worried about you. She talked to one of the shrinks at work and decided it was time for you to give it up.”
“Mom?” It was like a blow knocking out my anger. My face felt wet. Panic rose inside. I was crying. In front of everyone.
“It’s raining guys,” Des said. “Let’s head for the car.”
Rain. It was only rain. I hadn’t humiliated myself after all. I turned to see Des scoop up the wookie. She was like an elven princess who had called down the rain just for me. Her dark hair moved in the breeze, caressing her flushed cheeks. Concern filled her eyes as she tried to use her sweater to shield the wookie from the rain.
“Here, let me take that,” Gen said. The spell was broken as Gen took the wookie and matter-of-factly stuffed it under her coat.
Lighting flashed followed by a loud crash of thunder.
“Come on!” Nate yelled. “We can’t stay under the trees.”
“But is it safe to cross the creek?” Gen shouted.
“No!” he answered. “This way.”
Clouds rolled across the sky blocking out the light. We stumbled after him, running up the path in the twilight.
We passed the treehouse, and took the faint path Gen and I had seen earlier. Minutes later the path ended at Nate’s car. The old Chevy Impala never looked so good. We scrambled inside and slammed the doors.
Nate turned the key. The engine churned, trying to start. He paused.
The heavy rain let up. Darkness and quiet surrounded the car. Lightening flickered. Eerie glimpses of wildly waving branches flashed in and out. My skin prickled with anticipation. The light rain probed its way across the windows looking for an opening.
“Try it again,” Des said. Nate reached for the key. A blinding light radiated the area. Thunder boomed. A tree splintered and crashed close behind us. The car rocked with the impact. Rain returned with a vengeance, pelting the metal roof in a deafening roar.
I held my breath as Nate turned the key. This time the engine roared to life. He dropped it into gear, and the car jumped forward.
We jostled and bumped over debris and potholes for several feet before lurching onto the paved road.
Even with the headlights on and the wipers at full tilt, it was like driving through a raging waterfall.
Gen took my hand. I couldn’t see her face, but her fingers were cold and wet. We were all soaked. Nate’s car wasn’t going to be the same after this little trip, but I didn’t care. I squeezed Gen’s hand as we pulled into the driveway.
We raced to the porch and stood shivering while Nate unlocked the door. Like a comedy team we all tried to push through at the same time. Muttering and stubbing our toes we managed to get in and slam the door.
After the roar of the storm, the silence inside the house was uncanny. We stood dripping on the floor. The dark room matched my gloomy thoughts.
Des was the first to snap out of it. She slipped an arm around Gen and said, “Come on upstairs. Let’s get dried off. You can call your parents and let them know you’re okay.”
They headed for Mom and Dad’s bathroom leaving a trail of wet footprints on the stairs.
Nate and I stood in silence. His old jacket sagged like a furry mat and smelled like he’d been wearing it in the woods. Which he had been.
“Why’d you do it?” I asked.
“Take your wookie?”
I shook my head. “You told me that. Why’d you dress up like Bigfoot and chase us through the woods?”
“It’s my job.”
I wasn’t sure, but he sounded embarrassed. “Your job is scaring kids?”
“No, my job is dressing up. I’m an advertisement.” His voice dropped lower. “You know. One of those guys who stands outside and waves people into the store.”
“Your store is in the woods?”
He sighed. “Of course not. I work for Howling Good Costumes on Main Street. Remember the picture of the gorilla in front of the costume store from the Google car? That was me. Now it’s on the web. “
I puzzled through this information for a minute. “Okay. So why were you in the woods?”
He rubbed his temples, not answering right away. His hands dropped to his sides. “I put the costume on in the woods so no one knows it’s me. Only Des knows. She drops me off and I go in through the alley. I only chased you to keep you from coming back.”
“You could have told me. We used to be friends.”
I crossed the room and flipped on the light. He looked old and tired. And wet. My conscience got the better of me.
“Come on. We need to get dried off too.”
After cleaning up we came back downstairs. The smell of hot bread led us to the kitchen where Des and Gen were setting out bowls of soup and hot crescent rolls.
“Are those packaged rolls?” I asked in surprise.
Des raised her eyebrows. “I just escaped a torrential life threatening storm, and you want me to whip up rolls from scratch?”
“I made the soup from a can,” Gen said.
Nate pulled up a chair. “Let’s not argue with the women.”
He was right. I felt better after eating. I was still sorting things out in my head when Gen spoke up.
“So how does the teepee fit in? Does Ms. Kendrick know that Bigfoot is a fake?”
Nate and Des exchanged a parent look.
I tapped my spoon on the side of my bowl and they both turned toward me. “None of that what-do-we-tell-the-kids-stuff, okay? Just level with us.”
Des smiled. “Okay. I get my herbs from Ms. Kendrick. She plants them in the woods and knows when to harvest them. They’re always fresher and more flavorful than what I can buy in the store.”
“But does she know about Bigfoot?” Gen asked.
Nate shrugged. “I’m not sure what she knows about the legendary Bigfoot, bu
t she’s aware of my impersonation.”
Gen slumped back in her chair. “So much for teaching us to believe in possibilities.”
“She believes…” Des began, when the phone rang.
Nate picked it up. It was Dad. The call didn’t last long. After Nate told him we were fine, there was a long stretch where I could hear Dad’s voice through the receiver but couldn’t make out the words. Then abruptly his voice stopped.
“Dad? Dad?” Nate said. He hung up and tried calling back. “No connection. He said the storm was spread over several states. Apparently it was worse there than it is here. The power must have gone out while he was talking.”
“Are they okay?” I asked.
Nate nodded. “He said not to worry. They have everything they need. So we’re still on our own for a few days.”
Gen pulled out her cell phone and flipped through the screens. “Cell service and Internet are still working here,” she said. Her finger paused over the screen. She looked up and locked eyes with me. “He’s back. There’s a George update.”
“George?” Des said.
Gen rolled her eyes and her voice was skeptical. “The Bigfoot blogger? I suppose you’re going to tell us you don’t know about George.”
Des looked confused.
“I know about George,” Nate said.
“Show Des the clips,” I said.
Gen tapped the screen and handed the phone to Des. She watched the first one, then looked up at Nate. “That’s our video,” she said.
“Are you sure?” He leaned over to see the phone.
“It’s been enhanced, but it’s ours.” She paused the screen. “There,” she said. “There’s the misspelled no trespassing sign.”
“I told you it was our woods,” Gen whispered.
“But how did this guy get our video?” Des asked.
Nate shrugged. “Play the rest.”
We waited while they watched the others. When the new one came up, the rest of us leaned in to see the latest installment.
George appeared, eating a cupcake.
“Yumm,” he said. Crumbs cascaded from his fingertips. “You wouldn’t think a cake called Indian Corn Spice would taste so sweet.”
A cry of outrage burst from Desiree. I turned to see her in a whole new light. Her cheeks were purple. Her eyes flashed fury and her jaw was set. Shaking her finger at the screen she said through clenched teeth, “That’s my recipe.”
George was still talking “…what flavor is yours Jack?
The camera paned and zoomed in on Jack. “I think it’s called Pumpkin Wood, but it certainly doesn’t taste like a tree.”
Des muttered, “That’s mine too.”
Nate’s jaw dropped, and he leaned closer to the phone. “Jack looks like Dad.”
“What do you mean?” I said. “He's the same age as you. Well maybe a little older, but not an old guy like Dad.”
“He looks just like Dad in his college picture.” Nate’s voice shook slightly. “He’s even wearing the same tie.”
“Shhh,” Gen said. “Do I need to start this over?”
“No, let it run,” I said. I focused on what George was saying.
“...Jack and I are now an integral part of the Internet. Not just a few clips on YouTube. We have our own webpage.”
The screen went black and the webpage url flashed on the screen in brilliant gold. George and Jack reappeared, both wearing explorer hats. The url crawled across the brims in a never-ending circle.
“We’ll explore the unexplained,” George said.
“Add new posts,” Jack said.
“You can catch up on old broadcasts.”
“Stay up to date with the latest discoveries.”
“Explore new recipes.”
“New recipes?” Jack asked.
“That’s right fans. New baking recipes.”
George reached under the desk and pulled out a tiered tray filled with cupcakes.
“Amaze your friends. Invite them over to watch our videos and serve up one of our tasty treats.”
He gave the tray a slight nudge and it slowly rotated as the picture faded. Des handed the phone back to Gen. Her voice had a cold edge that scared me. “Let’s use the PC.”
We all crowded into the computer alcove, and Nate pulled up George’s webpage. It showed a picture of George and Jack sitting in a jeep. On the door it read, Click Here to Join our Adventure.
Nate clicked on the door. The jeep roared off over a hill and a menu appeared. A small version of George walked onto the screen and could be directed to menu items with the mouse. Des and Nate went through all the videos for the second time.
When they started through a third time, Gen began squirming. I took her into the kitchen and we brought back milk and cookies. Des munched on them, not even noticing they were store bought.
As the tier of cupcakes in the last video faded, Gen said, “Well? You’re not going to watch them again are you?”
Des selected “recipes” from the menu and scrolled through half a dozen types of cupcakes. “They’re all mine.” She looked up at Nate. “These are all the ones we were using in the video you filmed for me.”
Nate nodded. “And he’s using characters from Dad’s book. Jack Fontaine is not real. How can he be talking to someone who doesn’t exist?”
Gen snickered. “He’s riding around in a Google car with him too. And was that you in the gorilla suit?”
Nate made a face at her. “Let’s stick to the topic at hand,” he said. “All the videos Des and I made, everything from this computer and from Dad’s laptop are stored in the family data cloud. But how would George get access?”
“I guess he could hack into it,” Des said.
An idea was nagging at me. Something about Dad’s laptop.
“But what could he use to get in?” Nate asked.
“A link. Like one of the social networks?” Des said.
Nate snorted. “Dad? On a social network?”
Bertram’s assignment, I thought. I could hear Dad telling me to be careful with the password.
“Well what other online programs does the family use?” Des asked.
I looked at Gen and we said together, “EGOR.”
Nate looked surprised. “EGOR? Like in Frankenstein?”
Gen shook her head. Taking a piece of paper she wrote in big letters, E-G-O-R. “It’s a computer research program.”
She held it up for him to see and it reflected in the computer screen. I stared at the mirror image as she explained the letters.
“It’s an acronym for Examine, Generate, Organize, Research,” she said.
I read the backward letters softly. “R-o-g-e, Roge. His name is George Roge.”
Silence filled the room.
“You think George and EGOR are the same?” Gen said in a small voice.
“The name EGOR is a version of George,” Des said. We looked at her blankly. “You know, like Ian and John are the same name in different cultures.”
“So…George is EGOR,” Nate said. “And Dad used it to research his book.”
“Maybe it wasn't Dad that triggered the program,” I said.
Gen’s face turned pale.
“Who else was using it?” Nate asked.
“We were,” I said. “Dad gave me the password for researching an assignment for Bertram.” I glanced at Gen. She was looking a bit queasy. “But then we asked it about Bigfoot.”
“Why would one question about Bigfoot make EGOR create George?”
“It wasn’t just one question.” I waited for Gen to look at me and held her eyes. “It was an ongoing dialog through e-mail.” She flinched. “We,” I emphasized the word, “We fed it information on Bigfoot and kept asking it to generate possible answers. I guess it generated George.”
“But what about my recipes?”
“They are stored in the family cloud for the video,” I said. “So are family pictures, which explains why Jack looks like Dad.”
&
nbsp; Nate ran his fingers through his hair. “Let's recap. Through our influence, the university’s research program has morphed into George, a fantasy blogger who has convinced the world that Bigfoot is living in our woods. Dad is writing a book using a character that George has already made famous. Desiree is making a video about recipes she claims are original, but are already posted on George’s website. Is that how you see this?”
“Yes,” we all said together.
“So what do we do?” I asked.
Nate looked at his watch. “Since we can’t trust the news that George tells us, maybe we should see what the real reporters are saying.”
The local nightly news was typical mindless events. I could hardly keep my eyes open and was ready to call it a day. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was wiped out.
Gen was packing up her stuff to go home when Desiree pointed at the television. “Looks like they’re doing a piece on the storm.”
“Isn’t that our tree house?” Nate said. “Turn up the sound.”
Two reporters in the woods stood in the rain, water dripping from their neon yellow slickers. The man was talking. “Looks like this storm is about over, Sally,” he said.
“Yes, Mike. We still have some wind and a light rain, but today’s storm has uncovered more than just a toppled teepee and an abandoned tree house.”
Mike nodded. “For the last week we’ve been hearing stories about Bigfoot living right here in our woods.”
“And earlier there was quite a scene at the school when locals and groups from out of town thought they had spotted the mythical creature.”
“Now that would have been a Pulitzer Prize story,” Mike said.
They both laughed.
“But the truth is not that sensational,” Sally said.
“No, but we want to caution parents that at first glance it could be seen as gruesome by young children.” He turned to Sally. “Can you lift that up for the camera?”
Sally reached behind and struggled with something. With a giggle she pulled up the rain drenched gorilla head.
“It’s just part of a costume,” Mike said. “Apparently someone has been using this tree house, a zip line, and a gorilla costume to create this hoax.”
“Nice to know the world is a safer place because of our reporting,” Sally said.
Mike smiled for the camera. “Good night folks.”
The screen faded to a commercial, and Nate turned it off. His face looked glum. “The store is going to make me pay for that costume. I had other plans for that money.”