by Paul Sating
He rolled over toward the back support of the couch and closed his eyes. He didn't want to deal with a world that didn’t include Maria.
Within minutes of waking, Jared was asleep.
18
The rising sun did nothing to lift his spirits. He rolled over and winced at the brightness poking at his eyelids. The flood of memories from last night, immediate. Depressing. Maria was gone. Molly was dead. There were men so serious about him discontinuing his investigation that they were willing to commit violence against an innocent animal and threaten his wife. This was the point he was at now.
Jared rolled over and sat up, scratching his developing beard. When was the last time he shaved? When was the last time he picked up around the house? Or cooked for himself?
Spiraling.
Spiraling.
Spiraling.
Instead of the upward trajectory he should have been on, he was looking to plant his nose firmly in the ground in a spectacular crash. Well on the path to becoming the non-example in this life, you coward.
Every marriage had problems. People married for all the wrong reasons—money, convenience, to stave off loneliness, the incredible sex. There were as many bad reasons people got married as there were divorced couples. You could add in another million reasons for all the miserable people who lacked the courage to divorce, preferring to remain in an unhealthy and unrewarding relationship in order to keep up public perceptions, satisfy the will of some god that had nothing better to do with its time, or even because that's what they'd been told they were supposed to do by their culture.
But it wasn't like that with Maria.
She was the type of person he needed in his life because she, out of every single person he knew, made him better. She taught him things about himself he didn't even know. It was Maria who helped him open emotional doors that were sealed his entire life. When he wanted to forgo using the degree he spent four years and tens of thousands of dollars obtaining it was Maria who worked the longer hours at the steady job so they could make the payments on the house and vehicles. She even did it during his early years of schlepping through the backcountry of the Pacific Northwest in pursuit of a monster.
Even when she tired and began asking for things in return, when it was obvious he wasn't smart enough to pick up on those clues himself, she remained faithful and strong. When they fought, she stayed up late talking through to resolution, even though it was her who had to get to the office in the morning. She was the creative one in the relationship, the one who needed as much brain power as she could muster on a daily basis so they could afford to live, but even during the dark times, she continued to sacrifice in order to make them work. She suffered because of him. She gave everything of herself. She loved him constantly, even when it felt like the rest of the world wouldn't miss him if he was swallowed by a Bigfoot on one of his expeditions.
And when things started falling apart, she hung in there, came back when he promised change, remained faithful and patient as he stumbled and faltered through committing. In the book of marital excuses, Jared had gone from cover to cover and employed every single tactic more than a few times. He had already given her more than enough excuses to walk away, guilt-free, but she never did.
Until she finally did.
Of course, he'd thought about everything Maria had done for him, for them, and for what they could be. The tacky apologies he would deliver over a poorly prepared meal when he wanted to be romantic, the sacrifice she made when she'd taken on a large job after the separation and he bought them plane tickets to Las Vegas for a getaway. That hotel room became an office as she tried to balance the demands of the job with giving their marriage all the attention she could, even though Jared hadn't even asked her about her schedule when he booked the trip. Goddamn, you know more about this animal than you do your own wife, he realized.
He also realized he'd given more to the pursuit of this animal than he had to her.
And he had to change.
For himself, even if it was too late for them.
If he didn't work on himself then he would never be in the place to work on their marriage. She'd been telling him this for years but he avoided it out of selfishness. That's how he saw it; he couldn't apologize for his perspective. The problem was, while he viewed fixing himself as selfish, he didn't have any such reservations about spending a week in the woods looking for large footprints or scat. It was all so ridiculous. She had led him to the water and asked him to take control of his life and drink, yet he'd always turned away to search for his own natural spring.
I've got to fix this. I've got to try.
And it was with that thought that he searched under the small pile of wrinkled and dirty laundry for his recorder. He was going to do this, do it before the courage waned. It didn't matter if Maria would give him another chance or not. It wasn’t about that. Plus, she would never come back if he didn't fix himself. His unresolved issues created the separation.
It was now or never.
Drawing a shaking breath, he pressed RECORD.
"I had half a mind to follow her back to her house," he said, trying to block the memory of her disappearing taillights. "It was actually difficult not to. Whoever killed Molly could be still there, waiting for Maria to return. Waiting for me. I should have seen this coming. It's not like things like this haven't happened before. There are divisions within the Bigfoot subculture that are guilty of doing some egregious stuff to other investigators because of their work. My investigations have drawn attention for years but, lately, it seems to have been ratcheted up a few thousand notches. And now everyone but me is paying for it. What I'd do to get my hands on them. I'm afraid of me if I do. There's no telling."
His phone rang. It was Maria!
Jared snapped off the recorder and answered. "Maria? Are you okay?"
Her tone was flat. The three-hour drive gave her plenty of time to put up the wall between them. "Yes," she sounded exhausted, "I wanted you to know that I made it home okay."
"That's, that's good," he stumbled. "Listen, about last night, I—"
She sighed. "Jared, I'm tired. I just got home. I don't want to talk. I want to shower, get something to eat, and sleep."
"Oh." Her words stung. "Okay. Can I call you later?"
"It's probably best if you don't."
"But Maria—"
"I need to go," she said, the firmness in her voice solidifying her stance. "Bye, Jared."
She was gone before he could say anything else.
Jared set the phone down on the coffee table and stared at it like he was willing her to call back by intimidating the small box of electrical circuits, chips, and wires. It didn't ring; he wasn't expecting it to. He couldn't expect her to.
Now or never.
He picked up the recorder again and punching RECORD. "Maria made it home safe. She called me to let me know but didn't want to talk longer than she needed to. I screwed it up this time. I have got to face the facts. My reason for doing this. My real reason.
“I've stuffed it for so long I don't even recognize it anymore. Maybe telling you, sharing it like this, will help. Saying it out loud into a recording that may or may not ever see the light of day, maybe that will be enough practice to someday look her in the eyes and say it to her. She doesn't need that, but she needs me to admit it to myself and start working on it. If it's not too late."
God, please don't let it be too late.
"So I guess this makes it confession time for me," he continued. "Just you and me. Me exposing my darkest secrets to you. So, here it is. Coming clean." He drew a deep breath that did nothing to settle his nerves or the thumping heart in his chest. "In an earlier recording, I shared my childhood story about a Sasquatch invading our camp, traumatizing my mother and, ultimately, killing my dog. I said that was my motivation that launched this career, this passion. Well, that wasn't exactly a lie, but it's not the entire truth either. My dog was killed by a Sasquatch. I saw it with my own eyes. But that's
not where that story ended. After that night, nothing was the same for any of us. You know, if I'm going to do this I need a beer."
Jared paused, navigated his way around the clothes on the floor and the box of books that was delivered while he was gone but he hadn't bothered actually opening, and went into the kitchen. It was early, too early for a beer, but extraordinary demands required extraordinary strength, something he lacked. The future podcast audience didn't need to know how early in the morning it was when he popped the top and poured the stout into a frosted mug. If you're gonna do it, do it right.
Jared paused a moment to look out through the narrow slit of a window in the door that led to the backyard. Molly's doghouse sat there, up against the fence, dark and empty. His gut twisted. His eyes burned.
Jared steeled himself. There was no use in getting distracted. If he chased that demon it'd only serve as yet another excuse to not do what needed to be done.
He brought the beer back to the coffee table, setting it down and then immediately pulling it back up, stretching to retrieve a paper coaster to slide under it.
Now or never.
He pressed RECORD and stepped into the demon's lair.
*****
"I'll never forget the sight of that creature. It was terrifying. As much as I want to prove these things exist, I have no desire to come that close to one again. Doesn't make sense, I know, but you're going to have to go with me on this, unless you're itching to get into this line of work. Then you'll understand. I can see that thing as clearly now as I could then, as if the past thirty-plus years have been a blip. Everything I said before was accurate. The Sasquatch invaded our camp until it was chased off by my dog, which it killed. My mother and father fought for days afterward. All of that was real. Every single bit of it.
"But that night, the fallout from what happened, it didn't dissipate when we pulled out of that campground," he choked back the panic trying to convince him to stop. He’d stopped for over twenty years and time was up. "And I'm not talking mourning for a dead dog. Sure, it hurt and I missed him for a few months, but I was a kid, distracted by bikes, and sports, and soon enough, girls. No, it was my father. My dad changed after that night. He started doing a lot of reading, a lot of research. He started buying equipment and going out on expeditions with local cryptozoologists. Then, when they weren't dedicated enough, he started his own organization. It's defunct now. It died away when he did, but he put a lot into it. A lot more than he put into us."
Stop! The world doesn't need to know this. This is private. It's your story, not theirs.
"When things started falling apart, he started drinking."
At least respect your father's legacy!
"Then came the fighting."
You coward. How can you treat him like this?
"Then came the divorce."
Then came you disrespecting your father. The man who gave you life. The man who provided and loved yo—
Enough. Now or never.
"It didn't happen overnight," Jared said, the voice of doubt fading into the recess of his mind. "But it sure seemed to. One day we were a happy family, the next my father was never around, and when he was, he was too distracted by his research, his liquor, or fighting with my mother. He died in 1988. Cirrhosis of the liver. Mom hung around for him, though. Never left his side once he got sick. She was so damn faithful. Better than he deserved. I spent all my teen years without a father. It made me angry and, man, did I give my mother headaches. She put up with a lot. I don't know how she did it if I'm being completely honest. Between his selfish dedication and my rebelliousness, that woman had more than her fair share of struggles.
"It wasn't until Maria came into my life that I even began to take time to think about my father in a different way. Maybe it was because his memory was fading or because I was actually growing up and had my own life to live and adult responsibilities to distract me? I'm not sure. I started being less angry with him for everything he did to destroy our family. It also didn't hurt that I started walking in his steps. I started repeating his mistakes, which made it easier to justify everything he did to pull us apart and to not be mad at his memory. I'm no better than him."
Jared thumbed a droplet of condensation that trickled down the frosted mug.
God, this hurts.
"I'm destroying my life to find a creature that doesn't want to be found."
19
Jared heard the stiff breeze coming long before it swept through the camp. He pulled his hood up, not saying a word to Lucas. Listening to the world helped prepare you for anything it dished out. If you knew what to listen for. Lucas had obviously never learned that lesson. He shivered when the invisible wall of Mother Nature's touch wrapped him in her embrace. Jared smiled as his friend shook like a toddler tasting a lemon for the first time.
Lucas looked at him askance.
"What?" Jared asked.
Lucas shrugged and scooted closer to the fire. "Nothing," he said.
"Oh come on," Jared pried. "Seriously. What's up? What's that look for?"
"Just glad I came out here with you," Lucas replied. "Sort of."
Jared squinted in confusion but didn't reply. He watched the flames dance, almost flickering out under the steady assault of the wind.
It would die down soon. He could hear the silence coming from the west.
"You're not yourself," Lucas commented into the darkness. "I'm worried about you, bud."
"Don't be."
"Not that easy," Lucas countered. "You wear it on your sleeve."
He guessed he had. The past few days had been rough. After recording his confessional about his father, Jared thought he'd feel better, feel relieved of the burden of his family's dark legacy. But he didn't. In fact, hopelessness was his partner now, replacing Maria where she couldn't be bothered. Despair, always the good neighbor, popped in from time to time to see how he was doing. It was the un-invited and unwelcomed guest that pulled the blinds closed and shut off all the lights in your home. It preferred the type of darkness Jared had been sulking in for two days. That's why he was here now, on this cold night, with his best friend. The clearest sign that he advertised his depression was the fact Lucas actually accompanied him on an expedition. If this was all it took to get him out he would have ruined his life ages ago.
But this wasn't a social outing, not completely. It was a much needed mental health break because he'd been slipping and Lucas was attuned enough to recognize a friend in need. And, unlike most people, Lucas cared enough to respond. Funny, they hadn't seen each other more than a handful of times over the past year prior to Jared taking the video footage from the football game to Lucas. And yet Lucas still knew him that well. That spoke volumes about the man’s character.
It was good to hang out again. Camping. Lucas is camping! It meant the world to Jared to have his friend here with him during this, his darkest time because he didn't want to be alone anymore.
Jared needed to turn over a new leaf; to start telling people what they meant to him. People weren't strange creatures he couldn't communicate with, that was reserved for Sasquatch. But somewhere in his life, the paradigm had gotten flipped. It was up to him to correct it. Recording his confession about his father was the first step. Now, he had to keep walking. "I appreciate you coming out here."
Lucas crossed his arms, rubbing the opposite arm and shoulder. "Don't mention it. But could you do something about the heat, like turn it up?"
Jared smiled, he couldn't bring himself to laugh; he hadn't in days and was falling out of practice. "I'll get right on that but, sorry, you've got a long night in front of you if you think it's cold now."
"That's what I was afraid of."
"Well, hey, we've got the fire and as long as the wind doesn't whip through tonight we can keep it going for a few more hours."
"Uh," Lucas looked confused, "we're not keeping it burning all night?"
"Are you going to stay up all night feeding it?"
Lucas looked a
round, shaking his head. "I'm not staying alone out here."
"Awe, you need me as much as I need you."
Lucas chuckled through rattling teeth. "Jesus. You're insufferable. Don't you have some recording to do?"
"Not sure I want to," Jared admitted, noticing that his hand rested on his pack, right over the pocket that stored the recorder.
Lucas stopped. Stopped rubbing himself. He wasn't even moving. Instead, Lucas was looking across the fire at him, unblinkingly. "Get back on the bike, Jared."
"What?"
"You fell down," Lucas reasoned, "and got a boo-boo. It's bleeding. It hurts. The bike is lying on its side and the front tire is spinning, but it ain't broke. You didn't bend the frame. The chain didn't fall off. It works. You can still ride it. So, are you going to walk all the way home or are you going to pick up the bike, dust off your boo-boo, and start riding again?"
"It's not that—"
Lucas held up a hand. "Don't finish that sentence, bud. Do not do that to yourself. You're a hell of an investigator. Everyone close to you knows what you have in your possession and, when you go public, the people who care about this, and even a lot of people who don't, are going to be amazed at your accomplishments."
Jared's bitter laugh made Lucas' eyebrows furl. "Some accomplishment."
"Goddamn, you can be stubborn," Lucas threw his hands up. "Stop doing that to yourself."
"Doing what?"
Lucas' laugh was more of a scoff. "Lying out to serve as a doormat to yourself, bud! Jesus, you fucked up. So what? We all do. It's about what you do afterward that matters.”
He was right, of course. Jared knew that. Life didn't stop for adults who felt like pouting. It moved on, constant and unforgiving. You either went with it or you didn't, but there was no fighting it; there was no time for petulance.
Jared reached into the pack and pulled out his recorder, nodding at Lucas. He clicked RECORD. "It's been a few days since I last recorded," he started, slowly. "Maria asked me to give her some space, so we haven't been talking. She's in Port Angeles with her family and I ... said goodbye to Molly. That was hard.” Lucas cast his head down on the other side of the fire, nodding. He knew how attached Jared was to the dog. “I haven't been contacted by whoever killed her. They're so interested in convincing me to give up this pursuit yet there's no direct contact with me from their end. I sat around the house for two days before getting nothing done finally drove me crazy. That’s when I called Lucas and asked him to go on an overnight expedition with me. He accepted."
