Bigfoot Beach

by Kristopher Rufty

  Now, taking another bite, he was convinced his appetite was no longer in jeopardy.

  Max sat down beside Megan. He had a small mound of hot dogs and a basket of fries tittering on top. How he'd managed to carry the overstocked plate plus the giant cup to their table was a feat worthy of accolades.

  Several minutes of silence passed as the small group sated their bellies with greasy hot dogs, soda, and fries. In between bites, Gunner looked around. It really was a neat restaurant. There was no glass for the windows, just gaps like a horse's stall in the wood and screens. The breeze from the ocean was incessant, a mild brush on his cheek that gently stirred his hair. Traditional booths lined the wall next to the long gap of windows. But where they sat in the center, instead of tables and chairs were picnic tables and benches. To Gunner it was like being at a cookout with the cool kids. He was certain these guys were considered the cool kids.

  Hopefully, they’d never realize he wasn’t one.

  “So what do you do for fun?” asked Max, his mouth stuffed with bread and meat.

  Gunner had his lips pressed around the straw, sucking up Cherry Coke. He lowered the cup. “Um…well, I board.”

  “Skateboard?” asked Megan.

  Nodding, Gunner put his hands together on his lap. “Yeah.”

  “There're a few skaters around here,” said Malcolm. “Cool guys. I wish I could do that shit. I'm too clumsy.”

  Gunner wondered if he was trying to pull a trick on him. Either he was, or he was fishing for compliments. He'd seemed nowhere close to inept back on the beach.

  Malcolm continued. “I'll introduce you to them. I think there's some place around here they go to and spend the weekends skating their asses off.”

  “Cool,” said Gunner, but on the inside he was elated. Malcolm must be talking about a skate park. There weren't any in Granite Falls, and the only one that had been within driving distance was still two hours away. “I'd love to check it out.”

  “I can take you there one day this week.”

  Gunner's gasp snagged in his throat. Malcolm hadn't been the one to volunteer such a kind service. It was Megan. Sitting across from him, she smiled innocuously behind her cup. She raised the straw to her lips, and puckered down. The drink made squelching sounds as she sucked it through the straw.

  “That sounds…” Gunner swallowed. “Fun.” He could feel the blush on his face and hoped they couldn't see it. Maybe they'd mistake it for too much sun.

  Shaking his head, Max groaned. “Jeez, Megan. Make it obvious.”

  “Shut up!” She slapped Max across his boulder-like bicep.

  If Gunner's cheeks became any warmer, they might ignite.

  Megan snapped her fingers at Malcolm. “Ask him.”

  “Ask him what?” said Malcolm, his voice sounding like he was choking on cotton from the surfeit amount of food he was chewing.

  “What we discussed earlier.” Teeth clenched, she'd virtually growled her last words.

  Malcolm held her intense stare another moment as he finished chewing. Then he said, “There's a get-together on the beach tonight. You should come.”

  Gunner couldn't stop his head from jerking toward Malcolm. “A party?”

  “Whoa, who said that?” asked Malcolm, holding out his hand. He leaned closer, gave a quick look around as if to make sure it was safe to talk, and shook his head. “We’re not allowed to have parties on the beach. But…get-togethers haven’t been banned yet. Just an annual end of summer hangout with a few people. Really, we don’t invite that many because it draws too much attention from the sheriff’s department. But we like to have a good time before school starts after Labor Day.”

  Max snickered. And Gunner couldn’t help but to feel he was being either put on or set up for something.

  As if sensing his hesitance, Megan reached across the table, putting her hand on his. His flinch was refined but he was sure she’d noticed. “Relax, Gunner. I’m sure it sounds like some kind of new kid initiation, but it’s not. I promise. No, it's just a couple of my friends having some fun now that the tourists are gone. I mean—they'll come back Labor Day weekend, and school starts right after that, so it's really our only shot at having the beach to ourselves before going back to school.”

  Though he felt a tad better, he wasn’t fully convinced. “And you’re going to be there?”

  “Of course,” she said, smiling. “It’s my idea.”

  Gunner ignored Malcolm’s and Max’s giggling and nodded. “Sure. I’d be up for that.”

  “I’ll text you the directions,” she said. “It’s easy to find.”

  Text?

  That meant she’d want his number. And he’d have hers.

  He suddenly felt very anxious.

  Megan wiggled her eyebrows. “It’s going to be fuuun.”

  12

  Gunner wasn’t having fun.

  It was a chilly night and the campfire did very little to warm him from the persistent wind carrying from the ocean. Using an inverted bucket as a stool, he sat next to Megan and across the fire from the others.

  Troy performed with his acoustic guitar and Gunner hoped he’d managed to hide his revulsion. Though the wood popped and crackled inside the trembling flames, it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the god-awful music. The chord patterns were nearly as terrible as Troy’s whiny off-key vocals about the soul of the ocean pumping essence into the aquatic life that swam in it. Wearing an afghan beanie on his head, long hair curled down either side of his face and hung down to his shoulders. A hemp pullover draped his plaid shorts. With his eyes closed, his lips poked out as he either tried to make a melody or howl, Gunner wasn’t sure which.

  Jon, shirtless and lacking any kind of body tone, held out a joint and Troy stopped playing to accept. Jon seemed to be the cleaner cut of the two, but shared Troy’s asinine behavior. Though Gunner wasn’t a smoker, he was glad Jon had fired one up if it meant an end to Troy’s maladroit concert.

  Gunner glanced at Megan. She looked ill. Her golden hair seemed to float around her face and curled out around her neck. Her purple T-shirt was cut in V and left her chest open down just below the juts of her breasts. He could see the tight valley between their glossy humps. Her shorts were white and very short, showing a lot of her tanned legs. Shadows danced on their tawny smoothness. Just the sight of her made him feel slightly better. When she noticed him looking, she lifted a shoulder and gave him a look that was equally apologetic and nauseated.

  Ellen, who was introduced as Megan’s bestie, sat between the two goofballs, laughing at something Gunner had missed. Her dark hair was pulled into lengthy pigtails that hung over each shoulder. She had long toned legs flowing from her denim cut-offs that suggested she was a cheerleader or some kind of athlete. Though she was very pretty, she couldn’t compare to Megan. Ellen hadn’t said much to Gunner after finding out Megan had invited him. From what he could gather, Ellen had assumed they were on a double date with Troy and Jon. And his presence was a monkey wrench in her plans.

  When he’d shown up, it was only the four of them hanging out around the fire. A painful hour later, they were now only a group of five, with Gunner being that extra wheel. He wondered if that was the only reason he’d been invited. To act as a buffer between Megan and Jon.

  Lucky me.

  He’d felt lucky until he’d gotten here. All afternoon, he’d looked forward to hanging out with Megan. With any luck, the evening might’ve led to something more. What, he didn’t know exactly, but anything was better than what he was used to.

  Even this?

  Gunner sighed. He’d only been to a couple parties, but he was sure this one was the worst.

  Ellen puffed on the joint and gritted her teeth as she held in the smoke. She leaned forward, holding out the damp tip of the joint out to Gunner. He shook his head. Ellen leaned back on her upturned bucket, making a face as she exhaled a thick plume of smoke.

  “Really?” she said. “You don’t smoke?”

  “Sorry,” h
e said. “My dad’s a cop.”

  “So?” said Jon.

  “And his uncle’s the sheriff,” added Megan.

  Troy made farting sounds with his lips. “Big deal.”

  Ellen, rolling her eyes, looked at Megan. “Who is this guy?”

  “My date,” said Megan.

  Gunner hardly felt anything hearing her say it. Sure, he was her date, but it didn’t mean much if he was being used to diffract a guy she wasn’t into.

  “Sounds like a winner,” said Troy. He made quaking sounds that Gunner supposed was laughter. “A wiener.”

  Now Jon and Ellen joined him.

  Gunner sighed again. “Wow.”

  Troy pinched the joint between his fingers and tightened his lips around it. He sucked in, making the cherry end glow brightly. When he took it away from his mouth, the spark dimmed. Then he passed it back to Jon. “We should go boogie-boarding,” he said in a strained voice. Smoke puffed with each word. Finally he let it all out in a gray cloud that hung around his face. His eyes looked bloodshot in the carroty flicker of the campfire.

  “Hell yeah,” said Jon, raising the joint to his lips.

  “No,” said Ellen. “The water’ll be cold and I don’t have my suit.”

  “Go naked,” said Troy. “I am.”

  “Are you nuts?” she asked.

  “I have some. You’ll see them if you go boarding.”

  “Shrunken versions,” said Jon. “Cold water makes you shrink.”

  “Oh, yeah. Forget it, then.”

  Jon pointed at Troy’s crotch. “Cold water will make those pebbles invisible!” He loosed a hyena-like cackle.

  “Up yours,” said Troy. “Been peeking on me in the shower again?”

  Jon’s laughter died. “Suck it, Troy. Not funny. I told you I didn’t know you were in there that one time.”

  Gunner stared at the ground, unable to believe what he was hearing. But somehow he knew one of the stoners would probably screw Ellen before the night was over. Guys like that always got the girl.

  He looked at Megan. Maybe not all of them. Obviously, she’s not interested.

  Or she’s already had her taste.

  Maybe she’d dated Jon in the past and wanted to show him she’d moved on. That was why Gunner was here.

  Or maybe she just wanted you to come along. Did you ever think about that?

  At first. But not now. He was just an idiot-deflector tonight.

  But he supposed it was a smidge worth it to be near Megan. Better than sitting at home.

  “Hey, new kid,” said Jon.

  “Gunner,” corrected Megan.

  “Whatever. You said your uncle’s the sheriff?”

  “Yeah,” said Gunner.

  “What’s this business I heard my dad talking about?”

  Gunner waited on him to elaborate, but when Jon began to raise the joint to his mouth, he realized he wasn’t going to. Troy quietly plucked guitar strings with his thumb and forefinger, apparently holding out on the vocals to hear Gunner’s answer.

  “What business?” asked Gunner.

  “I heard my dad telling my mom something about a cop being killed last night.”

  “What?” said Ellen. “Last night? Where?”

  “I think on the beach.”

  Ellen looked pained. Her eyes roamed the dark surf around them. “Near here?”

  “How the hell should I know?” asked Jon. “Ask Gunner, his family is cops.”

  Ellen looked at him. Her eyes were round with worry. “Was it?”

  “I have no idea,” said Gunner. “This is the first I heard about it.”

  He wasn’t sure Dad would’ve told him one way or the other. But it might explain why Dad kept asking if they were going to be on the beach tonight. Gunner felt bad for lying to him when he said they’d be at Quigley’s. Now he kind of wished he’d been honest.

  Dad wouldn’t have let me come.

  Maybe that would have been a blessing.

  “Bet it’s true,” said Troy, plucking away on the strings. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “It wouldn’t?” asked Gunner, hating that he’d been baited. By the look on Troy’s face, he could tell the doofus had wanted him to ask.

  “That’s right,” said Troy. “You’re new, so obviously you haven’t heard.”

  “About the Bigfoot?” asked Gunner.

  Troy looked surprised for a moment before he shook it off and returned to his faux ominous expression. “So maybe you have.”

  “It’s posted all over the damn town,” said Gunner.

  Troy smacked the base of the acoustic, making it ring out. “But you don’t know the legend. Am I right?”

  Gunner held up his hands, patting the air. “No. I suppose I don’t.”

  Megan groaned. “Troy, I’m not in the mood.”

  “From what I hear, you never are.”

  Jon smacked Troy’s shoulder. The long-haired stoner spun around on his bucket and slugged Jon’s arm. Both guys leaned forward, moaning, rubbing where they were hit.

  Ellen shook her head. “Troy thinks he saw Bigfoot one night.”

  Through his wincing, Troy nodded. “I did see it. It was around the Fourth of July.”

  “Whatever,” said Ellen. She looked around. “Where’s the marshmallows?” She looked behind her. “Never mind. Found them.” When she faced forward, a bag of marshmallows hung from her fingers. She reached in, removed a fluffy sphere and impaled it on a skewer. Then she dropped the bag and reached out, holding the marshmallow above the flames.

  Troy leaned forward, letting his arm hang over the guitar. “I was out here one night with a girl.”

  “That’s how I know this is a lie,” said Jon. “No girl around here would come with you to the beach.”

  “Dude, shut up,” said Troy. “I told you she was out here with her folks on vacation. Anyway, we’re on my blanket and making out. Couldn’t keep the bitch—girl…the girl off me. I heard these noises at the water. Kind of like…” He paused. Staring at the fire, his nose wrinkled as if he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. “I guess kind of like caveman. Yeah…noises like a caveman. You know what I mean?”

  Ellen laughed. “Like this?” She bent her arm and patted her stomach with a fist, making noises that reminded Gunner of gorillas in a zoo. Her breasts were smaller than Megan’s, but Gunner could see the jiggling impressions they made inside her tank top.

  Troy smiled. “Damn you’re sexy when you go all ooga-booga.”

  Laughing, Ellen held out her hands and did a little bow. “Thank you.”

  “But no,” he said. “Not quite like that. Close, though.” He took a deep a breath and let it out, puffing his cheeks. “Anyway, I didn’t want to stop making out with her, but I did want to see what the noise was, so I got her to lay down and I crawled on top of her…”

  Megan held up her hand. “T.M.I.” She shuddered. “I don’t want to hear the details of your taking advantage of vacationers. Just tell us what you saw.”

  “Fine.” Troy took what was left of the joint from Jon and winced when the hot nub burned his finger. He had to pucker his lips to get anything off it. “It was hard to see much, but it was huge. And hairy. It was in the water, taking handfuls and splashing it all over its body. It would make those hooting sounds whenever it splashed itself.”

  “Didn’t you say you were on acid that day?” asked Jon.

  “Yeah, earlier. But it’d worn off by then.”

  “You were still tripping, man. Getting with the girl got you all riled up and made you have a flashback. Were you telling the girl all about the Bigfoot before you started banging her?”

  “Of course,” said Troy. “It’s all they want to talk about.”

  “There you have it,” said Jon. “You imagined it. You were still feeling the lingering effects of the acid and you’re tripping brain created the image. End of story.”

  Troy looked lost in thought as he processed this. “Huh.” Then his dazed expression tur
ned into a frown. “Maybe that would explain why I thought I saw a woman in the water with it.”

  “What?” Jon laughed. “A woman?”

  “Yeah. The girl I was with said she thought Bigfoot was sexy. Maybe it made me imagine the woman in the beach too.”

  “Was she hot?” asked Jon.

  “Which one?”

  “The one with Bigfoot? Does he have good taste? I already know yours isn’t worth a shit.”

  “Looked like she had a smoking bod on her.”

  “All right!”

  Jon and Troy smacked their hands together in a clumsy high-five.

  “I’d say that’s a big yes that you were high,” said Ellen. She picked off a gooey clump of marshmallow and sucked it from her fingers.

  “Oh well,” said Troy. “Guess it was a hallucination after all.”

  “You know what helps with that,” said Jon.

  “What?”

  “More weed.”

  “Damn right.”

  Troy leaned back his head and began to sing at the star-dotted sky. His hand strummed the guitar so vigorously the strings rattled on the neck.

  With a groan, Gunner looked down at the sand again. He scratched his head. What did Megan find entertaining about hanging around these people?

  “Want to get out of here?” Megan whispered in his ear.

  Gunner turned. Their faces were so close they nearly touched. If he moved a fraction of an inch, their lips would join. “If you want to,” he said.

  Her breath was warm on his face when she said, “I do.”

  When Megan made the announcement they were leaving, nobody seemed to care. Ellen acted a little bummed, but after a quick glance at the two goofballs, she smiled, realizing she would have them all to herself.

  Megan took Gunner’s hand and led him away from the campfire. She didn’t let go as they hiked up the large mounds of sand. Weeds brushed Gunner’s legs, making them itch where his shorts didn’t cover. Sand sloughed between his toes. It was hard to keep his flip-flops on as he walked up the hill, the ground shifting under each step.

  Finally, they reached the top. It was much cooler up here. And darker. The campfire had destroyed Gunner’s night vision. Whenever he blinked, he saw phantom flashes of flames.