Small Acts of Supernatural Kindness
Page 2
Chapter 2 Making New Friends
Then suddenly she felt the wind change and she knew that she wasn’t alone. She started feeling that same whiplash of energy she had felt on the plane. It coursed through her again from her hands and feet toward her chest, but she was a little more prepared this time. Maybe being on solid ground instead of 30,000 feet helped.
She could feel eyes on her; the energy of a live creature in the woods over her right shoulder. She cleared her dry throat. Nothing moved. She stole a furtive glance to the left. She was sure she could make it back into the port-a-potty in about one second. But if she did that, she would still be plagued with not knowing what was out there, lurking in the shadows of the trees. The thought of not knowing was worse than the thought of it being a bear.
Since her throat clearing didn’t scare it, she turned ever so slightly to the right, calculating that given a split second she could accelerate, keep turning, and launch herself right into the bathroom if need be.
She was relieved not to see any animals peering back at her. She took a deep breath to slow her heartbeat and calm the butterflies in her stomach. She laughed at herself when she realized she had drawn her hands up in fists in front of her chest. What did she think she was going to do, actually poke a bear in the eye?
She relaxed her arms and studied the forest floor. The slope of the hillside gradually eased upward away from her. The massive hemlock and fir trees lent a solid, calm presence to the forest even though their branches pointed randomly in all directions. Fallen trees nursed new trees growing straight up out their trunks, begging for sunlight. Moss covered so many wood surfaces, its depth of green an indication of age. Ferns and complimentary plants in greens of all shades carpeted the forest as if painted by an artist with a single color palette.
An old stump as big as a VW bug, its edges softened by moss, was straight ahead of her, just inside the edges of the forest. Makensie saw a slight wave on the side of the stump; more of a shimmer of movement than actual movement itself. She shook her head slightly, trying to clear what she thought were sun spots in her eyes, but her eyes did not deceive her…a Sasquatch materialized literally out of thin air.
Makensie didn’t launch herself into the bathroom as planned, but instead stood entranced by the creature. It eyes held her, almost spoke to her. Those tawny eyes were pools so…deep, so ancient, that she felt her heart reach out to them. Even though this Sasquatch appeared to be a child in size (Makensie knew Sasquatches in the legends towered over humans), its wrinkled brown face, and those mesmerizing eyes, told Makensie it did not have a young heart but an old soul. Its silky forearm hair skittered in the wind. No, it wasn’t the wind doing that. The creature itself was pulling on its own thick, hairy fingers and wringing its hands together in a universal sign of distress.
The Sasquatch shifted its weight a bit from one padded foot to another, but never broke its gaze with Makensie. Had it done this, Makensie was sure she would have bolted into the bathroom in a heartbeat, but held in place by that mesmerizing stare, she couldn’t move. Makensie’s brain was working a million miles an hour. Although her heart was racing, it was from excitement, not fear. Something about this creature was comforting; giving off a distinct feeling of kindness or goodwill, not danger. Makensie knew that at night eyes of predators reflect red and eyes of prey reflect green. Instinct told her this creature’s eyes were green at night.
“Hi.” Makensie said tentatively, and then thought to herself how dumb it sounded out loud to be greeting a monster in the woods like it was a friend at school.
The Sasquatch didn’t respond aloud, but did tilt its head, its eyes still pinning her to the spot. Then it finally broke the gaze to look over Makensie’s left shoulder. Makensie thought she better look too, in case it was a genuine bear this time. By the time she looked back, the Sasquatch had mostly melted back into the stump like a mirage.
“No, wait!” Makensie pleaded “Don’t go!” But it was too late. The Sasquatch faded and disappeared. Makensie cautiously approached the stump and felt the cool, moist, spongy surface of it. She circled it slowly, keeping her left hand on the ridges of the stump to steady herself on the uneven footing. It had vanished literally into thin air just as surprisingly as it had materialized.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her aunt said, “I was only gone for 30 seconds. I didn’t see any bear tracks, just our tracks.”
“No, I wasn’t talking…never mind. It wasn’t a bear,” said Makensie, taking a steadying breath, “It was a Sasquatch. And you were gone for ages.”
“A Sasquatch! You know they aren’t real, right? They’re just a myth popular here in the northwest. And I swear I was only gone 30 seconds. I just scouted up the trail to the first bend.” She said after a long pause and quizzical look at her niece.
“It really was a Sasquatch. It appeared right out of the stump here and stared at me the whole time you were gone. It was about my height and had really intense eyes. Then, when it heard you coming, it disappeared back into the thin air. Now it’s gone.” Somehow she felt a little sad, saying it out loud.
She could tell her aunt wanted to be supportive, but was struggling with what to say to convince her she had seen a mirage. “I know you have a really vivid imagination. I am sure it was a little bear cub that your mind turned into a Sasquatch because I pulled you away from reading that old book. I should have taken you with me to look for prints. Your dad’s gonna kill me. Come on, let’s get out of here-where there’s a baby, there’s a momma bear around nearby.” She said as she turned to start walking to the car.
Her aunt slipped the bear spray back in the Velcro pouch and transferred her backpack to one shoulder while she dug for the car keys in her pocket. Makensie took one last look into the forest, scanning it for movement, and then reluctantly started toward the beat up SUV. She knew what she saw, but without any proof like prints what could she say to convince her anyone it wasn’t her imagination?