by Paul Sating
Yet it had.
Because he was getting close. Too close.
Everything was moving forward. Quickly.
And that bothered him.
It took Jared a few days to figure out why.
Fear.
It always came down to fear.
If things kept coming to a head then everything he knew, everything he understood, was going to change. What was, will no longer be. What is now, won't be tomorrow's truth. Things that were merely nebulous, the threats from the other investigators, the possibility of reconciling with Maria, would be defined. Either they would happen or they wouldn't and he'd have to move on from them. From her. The fact was, his entire adult life had been consumed by chasing this goddamn animal and, as he closed in on it, he realized that everything would change once he was successful.
And that was scary.
He wasn't afraid of finding Bigfoot and waking up the next day. If that time came he would have the world at his feet for the rest of his life. Interviews, television appearances, radio spots, books, and maybe movies. It would all be his if he said the magic words. But that future was inconclusive. How did you prepare for something you didn't understand or know was coming? How did you make yourself ready when you didn't know what you were readying yourself for?
But wasn't that what he was doing? Hadn't he made his decision inside the dark confines of his home, his last bastion of safety? He’d already decided. The door was open and he was barging through.
After all, wasn't that why he was on his way to Shelton? The investigation was on again.
There was a witness who'd called him before he’d even headed to Forks to meet Frank Hollenbeck. He'd made this witness wait due to his skepticism. Shelton wasn't exactly known for sightings and this guy claimed to have something Jared found odd for anywhere in the state. The fact that it reportedly happened in Shelton just made it even odder. Warning flares sent skyward, he didn't have the time or the inclination to deal with fraudsters. This new witness straddled the border.
Jared pulled into the parking lot and surveyed his surroundings. Shelton was a small town, a town he found to be very depressing. Why in the world was someone from a place like this calling him about Bigfoot? Plenty of humans had no desire to be in Shelton, why would this animal? Not that he believed this guy, at all. Again, this guy might be very smart and deliberately walking that fine line between believability and downright outlandishness. Jared wouldn't be able to tell until he sat with him. But it would surprise him if there was anything of true value that came out of this meeting. He wasn't getting his hopes up. But, if countered, it's a nice way to ease back into all this before the craziness spins up again.
The coffee shop was small and crowded, with every table occupied. Steamers went off every few seconds as the line of customers patiently waited for their intricate brews to be delivered just how they liked them. The American dream: fine, made-to-order-specialty coffee.
Jared scanned the small room for Kevin Jenkins and found him by almost tripping over him. The room was crowded, the tables packed into the small space as closely as they could. Probably violating some fire code. That's precisely why it was so difficult and so easy to find who he was searching for.
As Jared navigated the tight spaces between tables, Kevin reached out from the booth and grabbed Jared's wrist. Jared instinctively yanked his arm back, almost hitting a patron who was waiting in line. Jared apologized before grimacing at the overweight man who'd grabbed him. "Can I help you?"
"Oh," the big man who'd somehow squeezed into the booth waved both hands rapidly, "I'm sorry. Are ..." he lowered his voice, glancing around at a few of the patrons who had their attention captured by this exchange, "... are you Jared."
Jared nodded. "Kevin?"
The man nodded and smiled. The room seemed to warm. It was an infectious smile, one that immediately lowered Jared's defenses. "Do—do you want a coffee?"
Jared shook his head and sat down on the other side of the booth. "No, I can't have too much caffeine. Makes me jittery."
"Oh, gotcha," Kevin said, looking down at the large coffee sitting in front of him. "I love it. Drink way too much of it, I'm sure. Not like I can afford all the calories but I can't imagine life without it. Plus, we're Washingtonians, right? It's part of our diet from the time we're young."
Jared laughed. "I guess so."
"So, um, how does this stuff work?"
Jared raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Kevin lifted his arm, extended his index finger down toward the table, and made a circular motion with his hand as if he was drawing invisible circles. "All this. This investigation stuff. How ... how do we ... you know ..."
Jared smiled. He'd seen a thousand nervous people before, this was nothing new and it made him feel better about investing his day in coming out here. "We just talk. That's all. There's no formality to this. If you can have a conversation, you can handle what we're about to do, I promise."
Kevin leaned back, well, he tried to lean back. The man was so large that any movement in the booth couldn't be simple or comfortable for him. "Oh," there was a hint of disappointment in his voice as if he expected a bigger production.
"Are you okay with starting?"
"Hmmm?" Kevin's face was a blank canvas of innocence. "Oh, yes. Sorry. Definitely."
Jared set the recorder in the middle of the table between them. Kevin looked at the device and swallowed. Jared started the interview like he always did with new witnesses. There was a natural flow in his words, coming from deep in his recall. There was something else there, though: coldness. It was the first time he could remember not being overly excited to hear what a witness had to say. He wondered if he was losing it and pushed the thought out of his head. There was a job to do. "Thank you for meeting. Like I said on the phone, I record everything that pertains to these investigations. Are you still okay with that?
"Yes," that infectious, yet less-confident smile was back on Kevin's face. "That's fine. Is this going to be on one of those shows?"
Jared laughed at the comment. He was going to have to review his Facebook page one of these days. He'd built it years ago and then never spent any more time looking at what he'd actually put down for contact and page information. He thought he'd done a good job with it, preferring to use the lack of a horde of nutballs as an indicator, but maybe the page could use a little touch-up so people knew exactly what they were getting with him. "Something like that. From your message, it sounded like you have something to show me."
"Yeah, it's sort of crazy but I didn't know what to do," Kevin replied. "I did some asking around and found a few groups on Facebook and one of them gave me your number. I hope you don't mind."
Ah, so it wasn't Jared's own Facebook page that misled Kevin? Good, one less thing he needed to worry about. Someone else probably planted that harmless seed in Kevin's brain. "That's not a problem. I get a lot of referrals that way, actually."
"Well, this is something I'm not used to doing," Kevin admitted. "I mean, I didn't even know where to start. I've got to be honest; I think all this stuff is crap." His chubby cheeks reddened. "Sorry, no offense."
The comment didn't bother Jared and he let Kevin know that. "Trust me, I've heard it all. It's fine. Some of the stuff you see being passed off as possible Sasquatch proof makes us look pretty ridiculous. In your message, you said you have a video for me?" When was the last time he sat down with someone claiming to have video evidence? It'd been a long time—months. Jared didn't have the patience for video evidence anymore. There were too many fakers, too many grainy, shaky videos in an age when everything is filmed up-close and in high definition. Yet Bigfoot seemed to still be the one exception. It made everyone involved in the field look stupid and he wanted no part of it. When he first started investigating, shooting video on a cell phone wasn't a thing; cellphones weren't a thing. Camera technology had come a long way but, seemingly, the same couldn't be said about eyewitnesses' abilities to film a half-dece
nt video. When he was younger he used to get excited about video evidence. But after a few years and a few hundred obvious fakes and misidentified animals, he'd all but given up hope anything legitimate would ever be captured. If the content Kevin promised didn't materialize, Jared was going to give the man another five seconds, then a verbal dismissal and be on his way back to Olympia.
"Yeah, I, uh, I don't mean to be weird or anything, but can we go to my truck?" Kevin's earlier jovial tone was gone, replaced by a flat affect that grabbed Jared's attention.
"Sorry? Your truck?" Had he heard the man correctly?
Kevin glanced around the shop. "I promise this isn't some weird sex thing." A small, tight laugh escape him, his cheeks shaking. "I'm sort of freaked out by the video and, well, I've got friends here. Shelton is a small place. A lot of people know each other. I can't be having them think I'm nuts."
Jared switched off the recorder. "Yeah, we can," he answered, "but I need to be clear with you, I'm not one for games. I've seen a thousand bullshit videos. Had enough people think I'm going to pay them for what is nothing more than them going out into the woods with their friends, getting drunk, and trying to fool everyone with a video that any fifth grader in America could make. Just so we're clear."
He liked this new him.
Kevin was taken aback. "Oh, no. No. I swear, mister. I don't know what it is and I'm not wanting anything out of this. I just want someone who knows what they're doing to see this. As much as I hate to admit it, Shelton is my home. My family is from here. My kids are growing up here. I'm a dad, mister. I have to do this for them. Otherwise, trust me, I'd delete the video soon as I could."
Jared watched the man's face, stared into his eyes, as he spoke. There was no way to tell if this was yet another scam but what Jared saw there, more than anything else, was genuineness. If Kevin was about to hand over fraudulent material, it wasn't deliberate. Ultimately, if this ended up being a fake, Kevin wasn't in on it. The way Kevin reacted convinced Jared the man was worth another ten minutes of his time.
They got up and walked outside to Kevin's truck, an older model Ford F150, red. If the world never sees me again tell Maria my last free moments were spent in a dual-cab with tinted windows. Well, that wasn't true; half the tint on the passenger side had peeled off a long time ago. They climbed in and Kevin turned on the iPad he had sitting in the driver's seat, pulled up a video and leaned toward Jared, facing the screen in his direction. Jared tried to ignore the big man's nasally breathing in favor of watching the high school football game on the screen. "This is my kid's game from last month. That's him, there," Kevin beamed.
"Running back, heh?"
"You played?"
Jared nodded. "Tight end. I used to have more quickness than size. You can see that's all changed though."
Kevin laughed, the red tint returning to his cheeks. "Me too. I was never that coordinated though. Played offensive tackle. Oh, here! Watch this part."
Jared watched the wobbly and loud video. The ball was tossed back to Kevin's son on a sweep play. The kid was quick, Jared gave him that. Never would have suspected that by looking at his dad. The kid dodged and weaved, the noise of the crowd seated around Kevin's location rose as, yard after yard, Kevin's son raced down the sideline and, eventually, into the end zone. Eruptions distorted the iPad's small microphone. It was all very impressive, but when the video ended Kevin looked him, waiting for a reaction. Jared didn't have one to offer him. "I don't get it. I know you didn't call to show me a football game, even though that was a pretty sweet play."
"Yeah, it was. But, you're right, that's not why I called you," Kevin agreed with a chuckle. "I didn't see it the first few times I watched the play either. Actually, my wife pointed it out to me. She saw it. Let me replay it." Kevin restarted the video from the beginning. This was a clip and not the full original. Interesting. I'll be even more skeptical now, thank you very much. Fraudsters did that. They loved their editing tools. The fact that this wasn't the original video disappointed him. He'd just started believing that meeting with Kevin had been a good use of his time; now he wasn't so sure.
"Now, pay attention as my kid gets the ball from the sweep, especially when he cuts the corner and sprints down the sideline," Kevin directed. "Okay, now look. Right here. See that?"
Jared's throat clenched.
Jared couldn't be positive. There was something in the video, but the distance and the conditions of the night game made it difficult to define what he was looking at. He needed to buy himself some time. "Mmmm, sort of. I mean, I can't make anything out except for the chain link fence and someone on the other side of it."
Kevin smiled. This time it wasn't the smile of a charming man, not at all. This time it was the smile of camaraderie, of belonging. Jared would soon understand why. "Keep watching that spot. Follow that shape." Kevin resumed the video.
Kevin's kid broke around the corner of the defense and raced down the sideline. As he sprinted in one direction the video caught up with the figure on the other side of the chain-link fence. The large figure, too big to be any high school football player or proud, energetic and overly-enthusiastic-father, helping coach from the sideline. Even professional football players and wrestlers weren't that big.
That was a Sasquatch. But not just a Sasquatch.
Jared swallowed the lump in his throat. It was a clear, high-definition video. The best he’d ever seen. The Sasquatch was easy to spot now that he knew what to look for. "Oh my god."
"Now you know why I called you." Kevin's soft voice floated in the cloud of thoughts.
"Can I have a copy of this?" he croaked.
"Already put it on this flash drive for you," Kevin reached into the cup holder and pulled out a small thumb drive. "I want to be done with this. I don't even want to go near that stadium again, never mind that thing on video. It's all yours. I hope it helps."
Jared took the thumb drive and slipped it into his jacket pocket, zipping it up to make sure he didn't lose it. This was amazing. Forks. Hurricane Ridge. Now Shelton.
He had to get home.
He had to get to work.
Jared thanked Kevin for his time. Relief washed over the larger man's face. "Don't worry," Jared said, "I'm going to look into this. I won't say anything about you or your family, okay? I'll protect your privacy."
"Thank you," Kevin nodded with a tight smirk. "Mister. Good luck with this ... this ..."
"Thank you," Jared said and walked away, saving Kevin the indignity of failing to put words to what he'd inadvertently recorded.
Jared concentrated on his feet. He was shaking. He was unstable. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Kevin with a bad impression. But his body shook with adrenaline. His chest thumped. His fingers twitched. His knees wobbled as he walked across the blacktop parking lot. When he made it inside his own vehicle he loosed a deep breath. Glancing back, he noticed Kevin had already taken off. Jared yanked the recorder out and jammed down on the RECORD button. This was going to make his podcast blow up!
The moment of truth was coming. This was unbelievable! "I can’t believe what I was given,” Jared tried to project his heavy breaths away from the mic so as to not distort the recording. “A Sasquatch. On video. In Shelton. But not one. The video shows a second, smaller Sasquatch trailing behind it.”
A parent and child.
15
Jared laughed and turned off the truck's radio, trying to focus on not speeding. Highway 12 was always one of his least favorite roads to take, not because he didn't enjoy getting to the ocean or that it somehow made him miss the heavy traffic on I-5 from Olympia to Seattle, but because the scenic drive held dangers for him.
When you were cruising on the interstate, going north or south, you could get away with going with the flow of traffic and pushing your needle towards eighty miles an hour, except when you were going through Tacoma. Tacoma was an exception to almost every opinion about life in Washington State. But out here, where the traffic and towns became sparser,
it was hard to 'hide' in traffic from bored cops who were looking to help the township meet budgetary goals. They handed out speeding tickets like pimps handed out escort fliers in the old days on the Vegas strip. Jared was pretty sure he'd funded a small expansion on the sheriff department's break room over the years with as many as he'd collected. Nothing screamed monotony to him like slugging down the open road with no distractions from other drivers or the ugly cities. Plus, flirting with the edges of McCleary, Elma, and Montesano were good reminders that life could be hard and pointless if you let it. He preferred to stay away from those places, just as he preferred to stay out of Aberdeen if he could.
But circumstances forced him to head to the small city. Thanks, Kevin Jenkins.
That video of a parent and its offspring in Shelton was something he never expected to get his hands on. Never expected to see. Just like he never expected to have two Sasquatch outside his tent.
That video was as much a blessing as it was a curse. Jared reached over to the computer bag he carried his notebooks and recording gear in. One copy of the thumb drive was in there, safely tucked away. He made no less than five of them in addition to storing it in his cloud account and overnight mailing one of them to Lucas for analysis.
