Chapter 4 An Unexpected Path
So here she was again, feeling like the odd duck out; she was saying “Sasquatch” and her aunt was saying “bear”. Just like her aunt and uncle had said “normal static electricity” and she had said “weird jolt of energy taking control of me”. The feelings were so similar. But what could she do without proof?
Makensie was still turning this over and over again in her mind when her aunt said “Here we are. Ladder Creek Falls. This should be nice, and it looks like we have it all to ourselves.” There wasn’t another car in the parking lot.
They got out, grabbed their packs, and signed in at the trailhead register. Then they began their gentle ascent through the damp sea of moss and green plants. They began to stretch their legs, increasing their pace slightly as the trail leveled out. Their footsteps were cushioned by the needles underfoot and even the shuffling of the fabric on their clothes was muffled by the dampness in the air.
They had the trail to themselves. It rose and fell, skirting a glacial erratic boulder and centurion stumps that indicated a lot had happened here before there was ever a trail. They passed stands of young trees, too, that had taken over an old avalanche slide from many winter’s past. The sunshine in the young glade felt nice on Makensie’s face, but she preferred the ancient feeling in the shade of the great old growth forests. They had a sense of weight to them that made them feel really alive to her.
The air began to grow mistier and the forest floor began to squish out from under the treads on their boots as they got closer and closer to the falls. Then she could hear them begin to rumble, telling an ancient story of new rains and old snow melt stumbling out of the mountains and down to the sea. Suddenly they were in view.
“Wow, isn’t this amazing?” said Aunt Tina as she perched on a boulder and shrugged out of her backpack.
“Uh-huh.” replied Makensie as she passed by her aunt to get a better look. She craned her neck up to the top of the falls. The tumbling water was as mesmerizing as the flames of a campfire.
After several minutes, her aunt asked “What are you looking at?”
“I’m trying to imagine following a single drop down the waterfall to the bottom.” said Makensie.
“Can you do it?”
“No.” After considering a moment, she added, “There are too many paths.”
Her aunt gave her an appreciative look. “Sort of like life, huh?”
Makensie broke her trance and turned to look with some suspicion at her aunt. It wasn’t like her to offer sage advice out of the blue.
“What do you mean?” said Makensie with her head cocked.
“Look to your right. Slowly.” said Aunt Tina, her gaze now zeroed in on the jumble of rocks at the side of the falls.
Makensie spun around on her heels and stumbled backward a step as she caught a glimpse of that mystical shimmer in the air just a few feet away near a mossy boulder.
“Steady now. Just watch. And wait.” Her aunt said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Makensie held her breath and willed the shimmer to return. It did. The same young Sasquatch with the old golden eyes that she had seen on the other trail was here, watching her again! It was wringing its hands in distress again, just like before, its silken arm hair waving back and forth like wheat in a field. Since her aunt was there, with the bear spray, Makensie felt calmer than last time. She let out the breath she was holding and she was able to study the Sasquatch. No, not study it, she thought, hear its thoughts. Or feel its thoughts, more accurately.
She felt a pang of helplessness, and curiosity mixed with apprehension. Makensie drew in a sharp breath as she felt pain; a throbbing pain in her foot. She drew her gaze down to the Sasquatch’s feet and noticed it was not putting weight on its right foot, the same foot she had just felt a stabbing pain in.
“It needs help, Aunt Tina. Look at its foot.” whispered Makensie.
Her aunt chewed on her lower lip for a minute before replying. “I think you are right, but it’s a wild creature. It wouldn’t know we were trying to help it and might feel threatened and be dangerous.”
“No, it knows we’re trying to help. It came to me for help.” said Makensie, suddenly sure of what she needed to do, and before her aunt could argue, she took a few tentative steps toward the Sasquatch, now just out of arms reach.
“What are you doing? Don’t do that!” Her aunt hissed, but came along beside her, one hand on the bear canister Velcro strap.
Makensie didn’t say anything. It was hard to concentrate on the Sasquatch’s feelings when she talked. She concentrated on her own feelings of wonder and helpfulness, hoping the Sasquatch could feel her like she could feel it. Makensie motioned for the Sasquatch to sit and it slowly sank to the ground. The Sasquatch looked back and forth from Makensie to Aunt Tina but finally zeroed in on Makensie and sank with its back against a small tree, arms resting on the ground, ready to push off at any moment. Her aunt had remained standing, but stepped back one step to give them some room after the Sasquatch reached the ground.
Makensie knelt next to the Sasquatch’s feet. She pointed to her right foot then pointed to the Sasquatch’s right foot and made a motion for it to bring her foot across Makensie’s knee. The Sasquatch unfolded its right leg and did just that.
“Oh my gosh.” said her Aunt under her breath.
Makensie bent her head around and sure enough, sunk deeply between the pads of the Sasquatch’s toes was a fishhook with a wisp of fine fishing line still attached. Makensie glanced at the Sasquatch’s hands and realized that of course it couldn’t remove it by itself; the long fingernails meant it couldn’t reach between its long toes to get it out.
Makensie murmured “Sorry.” to go along with feeling bad about any pain she might cause the Sasquatch and hoped the Sasquatch would understand as she slowly backed the fishhook out. She looked back at the Sasquatch and held it up with triumph when she was finished. The Sasquatch’s eyes had closed briefly during the procedure as it clenched its hands in the fallen leaves, but when Makensie had finished, it opened them with relief written all over its face.
Without warning the Sasquatch abruptly smacked the fishhook out of Makensie’s hand and glared at it on the forest floor. With a surprised look on Makensie’s face, still holding an imaginary fishhook between her thumb and forefinger, she wasn’t sure what her next move should be. The Sasquatch solved her dilemma by plucking a tiny white flower and handing it to her. Then, in one liquid motion the Sasquatch rose, turned, and disappeared in a shimmering cloud of stardust.
Neither Makensie nor her aunt said anything for a minute while their heart beats slowed back to normal.
“Better keep that, I should think.” said Aunt Tina about the flower Makensie still clutched in her hand.
“Yeah, I think I will.” said Makensie, still in a daze. “Maybe the fishhook too.” she added after shaking her head to clear it. “Even though no one will ever believe me that it came from an actual Sasquatch’s foot.”
“Well, you have a believer in me. I never would have thought in a million years I would be saying that.”
“What were you just saying about life having many paths?” Joked Makensie.
“Alright, alright, use my own advice against me. Let’s get out of here before a werewolf or something comes and asks you to fix his toothache.”
Small Acts of Supernatural Kindness Page 4