The Mustang made a wide turn and headed back toward town.
The bright red car diminished to a small point as it chewed up black asphalt. Leaving the horrors of the real world to await final judgment.
*
The day before seemed like a blur when Cole thought about it. Really, how often was it that someone gets to meet a genetic hybrid of bigfoot and man who had traveled from the future and then rescued two abductees from human traffickers?
Brennon had a thousand million questions on the way to the police department, as well as Charlotte.
Raymond pretty much just sat in the back seat and made car noises mimicking the Mustang’s throaty engine, and giggled. He said he liked to go fast, and at one point, asked Brennon if he could drive it some day.
The police and FBI had a thousand million questions, and his dad had a thousand million and one.
Cole couldn’t remember a time he felt so tired when he finally was able to crawl in bed that night. He slept peacefully, too, even though he dreamed. There was no bigfoot in his dream that night. Instead, the night terror had given way to a dream about a baseball game. He was on the pitcher’s mound in a game, but there were no other players on his team on the field. The batter was in the box, but no catcher behind the plate to do the job. It was just him against the other team. He had to throw a perfect game and hoped to hit a homerun to win. Despite the odds, he was up for the challenge. In fact, he remembered the feeling he had in the dream when he was up on the mound. It was a feeling of confidence, and he had a yearning to take it on to prove he could win.
Marvin ‘Dougie’ Douglas, William ‘Mr. Buddy’ Johnson, and Nathan Fortenberry were arrested and taken to the hospital where they all awoke and had a fantastic tale of how a bigfoot broke into the house and knocked them all out. Of course, they denied they had any connection with Charlotte’s and Raymond’s abduction. The FBI found one of their malware tracking programs embedded in Douglas’ computer that had all the evidence needed to put the three criminals away for a very long time. Not only that, but Cole overheard that the computer contained some solid leads to other criminals in the network.
Cole was exhausted that day from telling his side of the story over, and over, and over again. From the beginning, he was careful the way he told the event, keeping it simple and not embellishing the facts. Yes, he and Brennon skipped school and found the handkerchief where Charlotte was kidnapped. Yes, he and Brennon broke into Mr. Buddy’s house and then followed him to Douglas’ farm. Yes, he went alone to the farm the next day and kicked in the door and took the three men down with his baseball bat. That’s it, he told the same story the same way and never once wavered—no matter how crafty his interrogators became, he just looked ahead and dryly repeated what he had said before.
With the criminals in hand and the victims safe with their parents, there was really no point in finding a crack in Cole’s story. The authorities just felt it almost impossible to believe that Cole could take three men down with a baseball bat. Cole countered one time with, “What, you’d rather believe that bigfoot broke in and knocked them out instead?” Of course, that shut the questioner up pretty quickly. It was easy to understand why the three criminals came up with such a cockamamy story. Why would three grown men want to admit that a fourteen-year-old boy had beaten them in a fight? The police said the men had been drinking that morning, too. That fact gave some explanation of their delusional statements and how they were physically overwhelmed.
“I ought to have my head examined for bringing you back here,” Mark Rainwater said as he drove his truck toward Douglas’ farm.
Cole sat in the passenger seat next to him. He had been looking out his side window but saw only images of the previous day in his mind. “I can’t leave my four wheeler out there in the woods. Someone might steal it.”
“You should have let me bring the trailer. I can’t say I’m very comfortable with letting you ride it all the way back home.”
“But I like taking long rides through the woods. It helps me unwind. After a day like yesterday, I need to do something to take my mind off what happened.” Cole wasn’t lying, but there was no way he could fully disclose his intentions.
“There’s no way I can argue against that. You’re a hero, son. I’m proud of you,” Mark said. Then, he added quickly, “I’m mad at you too.” He let out a sigh. “What you did was wrong. You and Brennon put yourselves in danger. Face it, son. The worst thing that could have happened is that you could have been killed, and Charlotte and Raymond would both still have been sold. You should have gone to the police when you found that handkerchief.”
The fingers on Cole’s left hand mindlessly tapped on the center console. “Maybe. But I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me. See, if we had gone to the police when we found the handkerchief, and they went and searched Mr. Buddy’s house, they wouldn’t have found anything either. It’s only because Brennon and I saw him driving to Douglas’ when he should have been in school that gave us a clue where he had taken Charlotte.”
“You could have told that to the FBI when you got back to school,” Mark said.
“What? Tell them that Brennon and I skipped school and broke into Mr. Buddy’s house?”
“Hmmm. I get it.”
“Plus, things just weren’t all that black and white. There’s a whole lot of stuff that’s been going on in my head. The ride back home will help me sort things out.”
Mark chuckled. “There has always been a lot of stuff floating around in your head. But hey, who am I to deny the wish of the town hero?”
Cole turned his gaze toward his dad to see if he could read if he were being made fun of or not.
“You know, I think two of the greatest things I’ve ever seen in my life were yesterday. When Raymond’s parents entered the room, and he ran to them. I almost couldn’t stop myself from breaking down and crying a river.
“And after Lori showed up and met Charlotte, she hugged you so hard that your face turned red.”
“Yeah, she really latched on. She kept kissing me too.”
“I know,” Mark said. “I’m jealous.”
“Dad!”
“I’m kidding, Cole.” He reached over and patted Cole’s hand on the console. “I’m very proud of you, and I’m so glad that you weren’t hurt. But please, in the future, don’t put yourself at such great risk without talking to me about it. Things went well for you this time, but next time the outcome may be different. I’m not always going to be around, son. So, you better make use of your old dad while I’m here.”
Cole’s dad knew just how to play him. If his dad had used threats, Cole just would have tuned him out.
“I’m still laughing how that TV reporter got your name wrong. I guess she was so intent to get the story out first, she didn’t pay enough attention when the police chief read your name when he gave his statement. I guess I could have named you Cold Rainwater. In this day and time, it wouldn’t be all that unusual.”
“I don’t know, Dad. Sounds kinda gimmicky or like I’m some movie star’s kid. It kinda sucks that I get my fifteen minutes of fame, when they showed my school picture on TV, and put Cold Rainwater beneath it.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure the newspaper will get it right,” Mark said. “We’re just about there.”
The truck slowed, and Mark turned up Douglas’ driveway. He pulled up as far as he could before coming to a stop.
There was yellow police tape around the house and the Benski truck, but no officers were on site.
“I’ll see you back at the house in a few hours,” Cole said. He opened the door and stepped out, and then grabbed his pack filled with water and snacks from the floorboard.
“I love you, son. Be careful,” Mark said.
“I love you, too. I will.” Cole closed the door and headed toward the barn.
A new chapter in his life was just about to begin.
*
Walton Finch entered the forest right as the su
n rose Sunday morning. He knew old man Douglas was a mean old cuss before he drove up his driveway and asked to see the huge footprints a couple of days before, but he didn’t suspect him to be involved in something as nefarious as human trafficking.
He was shocked that such a recluse had such lofty plans. There wasn’t a whole lot of information that had come out about the case. Walton did hear one FBI agent, in a brief statement, say that Douglas used something called the Darknet on the internet that connected him to international human traffickers. Walton didn’t know a lot about computers; just enough to do bigfoot research, buy hunting supplies, and look at scantily clad women in compromising videos.
Equally as shocking was learning that a long time employee of the school system had been involved too in both of the kidnappings. What some people would stoop to for the almighty dollar, he thought.
After he had left Douglas’ on Friday, he planned to wait for him at the bar, Lost Times, Douglas frequented. There, he would buy the old codger a few drinks and see if he could get him to loosen up a little and agree to let Walton come on his property to inspect the footprints. That ship had sailed, though, and his connection with the local police informed him it would be in his best interest if he stayed away from the property for a long while.
Walton didn’t need any trouble with the law, but there was no way he could ignore the great mystery of the footprints. He had been traveling on foot and had made it north of Douglas’ property after a few hours’ hike through the forest from a remote road.
Going squatchin was his favorite pastime in life. Walton had planned his vacations around bigfoot hot spots over the last several years. Washington State was known as the squatchiest state in the US and his favorite place to hunt the elusive creature, having made the trip there three different times.
Walton was also a member of The Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization. BFRO, founded by Matt Moneymaker, one of the stars of his favorite show Finding Bigfoot, connecting him with like-minded people across North America. Visits to the website allowed members to report their personal experiences with the hominoid. The site included maps, photos, and even sound recordings. He had purchased his hat, with the Keep it Squatchy moniker emblazoned across the front, from the BFRO gift shop.
Nothing would satisfy him more than being the first to find actual proof of a North American bigfoot. Walton had endured years of taunting from his friends and family over his obsession. Romance for him was as elusive as the creature itself. He never could find the girl who equally shared his passion, or could stand to be around him after one date. Finding bigfoot would gain him international fame and command respect. He’d have the last laugh then and would laugh the loudest too.
Something unusual and high in the sky caught his gaze. At first, he thought it was sunlight reflecting off a small cloud, but the object wasn’t a cloud. The object didn’t travel at a great amount of speed either. Walton had seen jets travel across the sky much faster. There were no wings, tail, or fuselage on this aircraft. It was disk shaped, and it was traveling down to Earth like it was going to land!
This wasn’t the first time Walton had seen mysterious objects in the sky. Of course, all of his other sightings had been at night. This was his first daytime sighting of a UFO, and it was going to land within walking distance.
He kept his gaze steady and drank in every moment, recording everything in his mind to recount accurately later. When the object’s trajectory brought it past his field of vision, he pulled out his compass and noted the direction.
What luck! This was a once-in-a-million chance for him to be at the right place at the right time. Walton’s heart beat faster, and he felt numbing excitement surge through his body.
The hunter checked the safety on his rifle out of habit. After a deep breath, he hurried toward the alien landing site.
*
Cha’nu, the female bigfoot, had spent the morning foraging on select buds, shoots, and tender foliage. She also had her fill of grub worms and thought about finding a safe place to nap.
The possibility of attracting the mysterious stranger as a mate kept her in the area. If by tonight he hadn’t made his move, she was going to head back to her home the next morning.
The dance two nights before was an invitation, and she had left a trail easy enough in the woods for him to find her. It was imperative for the male to pursue her at this point, as it was unheard of to offer one’s self to a potential suitor a second time.
She had mixed emotions about the stranger. It wasn’t just his smell. There were physical characteristics about him that set him apart from every other male she had met. His oddities were intriguing, though, and not repelling. How would other members of her community receive him if they did become mates? Would other males challenge him?
The stranger certainly looked strong and healthy enough to hold his ground. But what if more than one male attacked him at the same time? The stranger was different. The community might ostracize both him and her.
These were things not to be concerned with so much right now, though. There had been no evidence that the stranger had an interest in her. This made her feel sad, as his uniqueness compelled her to desire him more.
The wind carried the scent of a Stealer, along with an odor that bristled the hair on her back. She had seen more than a few Stealers over her lifetime. The odor came from the long stick that barked thunder that they carried.
At least there was only one Stealer in the area. Still, the interloper was a threat to her and the stranger. If the stranger had been lured by her invitation, he might be looking for her right now, distracted by the raging fires of courtship that she had hoped to ignite.
No Stealer would deny Cha’nu a chance to be happy again.
She quickly bounded through the forest, determined to decisively end the threat.
*
Cole slowly approached Zax’s cave and shut down the four wheeler. He slipped off the seat, and his helmet, taking his bag of supplies with him.
Zax stepped out of the cave with the rangefinder in his hand. He stretched out his arms and contorted his back, and then opened his mouth and let out a big yawn. “I wasn’t sure you were coming back.”
“You think I’d rather stay home and play Xbox than spend some time with a bigfoot time traveler who is going to save the Earth from an alien invasion?” Cole said as he approached.
“I’m not a bigfoot. I’m a Nu-Man, and, I don’t know what an Xbox is.”
“An Xbox is a game machine. I don’t think they make any controllers big enough for your hands to fit them.”
“Eh, I don’t much care for games anyway.” Zax put his left hand on the small of his back and leaned backward. “I have got to get a mattress to sleep on.”
“Maybe you could come over to my house for a sleepover. I can make popcorn, and we could sit on the couch and watch movies and stuff.”
The brow over Zax’s left eye lowered. “Are you being sarcastic?”
“Do you think you could actually fit in my bed?”
“Are all humans this rude to strangers?”
“No, only to bigfoot time travelers who are going to save the Earth from an alien invasion,” Cole dryly said, and then widely grinned.
The Nu-Man burst out in laughter. “You had me going there. I like you, Cole Rainwater.”
Cole reached out his hand. “I’d like to thank you for what you did yesterday. If I had gone snooping around Douglas’ place by myself, I doubt I would have been able to save Charlotte.”
“And you would have probably ended up just like her.” Zax reached out his hand, totally engulfing Cole’s hand in completing the shaking of hands gesture. “I saw the girl, but there was a little boy too. Who was that?”
“That was another kid who went missing a couple of months ago. He’s actually the nephew of my baseball coach.”
“Uh, were…your girlfriend and the boy…hurt in any way?”
“No, thank God,” Cole said while shaking his head, try
ing to keep the bad thoughts out of all that could have happened. “Their parents were really happy to see them.”
“I guess you’re quite the hero around here.”
Cole blushed. “Well…I have been getting a lot of attention. On the news this morning, the reporter said President Trump got word of the story, and he might be coming here to give me an award or something.”
“President Trump. Yeah, I remember reading about him. He proved himself to be the most unique president in American history.”
“In a good or bad way?” Cole asked.
Zax paused a moment. “Do you read the ending of a book and then read the beginning?”
“No, why?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see how the president performs. The whole point of living is to endure the experience, both the good and the bad.” Zax leaned against the cave’s outside wall. “Now, you were able to convince the authorities that you singlehandedly overcame three grown men with a baseball bat?”
“It wasn’t easy, but I finally convinced them of that. I was careful to tell the same exact story over and over. They finally gave up.”
“The criminals, what did they have to say about yesterday?”
“They said a bigfoot had attacked them. But, they had been drinking, so that didn’t help their story,” Cole said. “One FBI agent tried to get me to admit that a bigfoot broke into Douglas’ house and that I went in when it left. Then he suggested that it might have been a bear that broke in. I don’t know if he was serious or not. I think he was just trying to see if he could get me to change my story.”
“You did well,” Zax said. “I did have some worries last night that you might not have kept our secret. It was my head that worried with doubt, but my heart told me that I could trust you. Still, I had my rangefinder set to scan when you arrived, and I saw that you were alone. I was prepared to leave from the cave’s rear entrance in case you had brought others.”
“I had a hard time convincing my dad to let me take my four wheeler home through the woods, but he finally gave in.” Cole opened his bag and pulled out some bananas. “Here, I brought you some food from home. It’s not much, just a few things I thought you might like to try.”
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