Lou didn’t answer Chad. Her full attention was focused on Virgil. She leaned forward, put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. Her thoughts were elsewhere, in another time, long, long, ago, when things had been so perfect between her and Virgil.
Ever since she first saw Virgil win the pennant for their high school football team, she knew he was the one. She remembered plucking up the courage to dance with him at the school celebration party. He dared to kiss her. She was in love. They dated in secret as her father was the sheriff and had a penchant for scaring away her boyfriends. Only Duane knew what was going on between them, for during that time he had attached himself to Virgil like a lost puppy to its master.
During that last summer break, she and Virgil spent a night camping out in the woods. Whether it was the moonlight or sharing a tent together which sparked things off between them — she suspected the latter, but they ended up cuddling and kissing. And the inevitable almost happened. With a sigh of regret, Lou recalled slipping out of her t-shirt and un-snapping her bra. She frantically fumbled with Virgil’s jeans, but then something curious happened.
Strange animal howling echoed around the forest — howling that was now familiar. Lou was frightened and scrambled on her t-shirt. Virgil became alerted to the sound of heavy feet crunching through the undergrowth. The young lovers hugged and gasped as a massive furry shadow walked on by. Then an intense light blanched her memory. She recalled Virgil noting his watch had stopped just like in The X-Files when the FBI duo, Scully and Mulder encountered the after-effects of a close encounter.
The young lovers rushed from the tent to see what it was, but there was nothing to be seen. That was it, her chance with Virgil had come and gone for he left town soon after.
Lou often wondered what would have happened if they’d done the deed and she’d become pregnant, and how their lives would have changed. She would never have become sheriff and Virgil would never have left Big Beaver and joined the FBI. Virgil would have done the right thing and they would have gotten hitched.
Lou sighed inwardly at the thought of the domestic bliss she might have had then and quickly brushed it aside. Her life had taken a different direction. Now she was the town’s acting sheriff. And she wouldn’t change her life for anything, not even for him. Or would she?
But here he was after all this time. She wondered if he still had the same feelings for her.
“You know what happened to the boy who cried wolf?” Virgil warned in his stern voice.
Chad turned away from ogling Merlot’s body. He was insistent, “Who gives a crap? I’m telling you … Bigfoot or some nut job has taken Beau this time.”
Merlot replied with a smirk, “I thought you told the sheriff you didn’t know who or what had taken Beau?”
Chad sounded exasperated. “We’re just dumb teenagers and as such we can’t be expected to make sense … can we?”
Virgil raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you kids realize how serious this is?”
“How serious can Bigfoot taking Beau get?” Sammi-Jo asked Merlot.
Virgil asked the big one, “Did Duane put you up to this?”
Chad shook his head no, emphatically, “No way, man. That ain’t cool.”
Virgil was like a dog with a bone. “How often have you seen Duane in his Bigfoot costume in the woods?”
“Duh … like all the time, man,” Chad exclaimed, now looking worried.
“Have you seen Duane with others dressed as Bigfoot?”
Merlot kicked Virgil’s leg and gave him a sharp look.
Soozie snorted. “You sure got it bad for Duane, Agent Fuckerwood.”
Virgil stiffened at the insult.
Throughout the questioning, Lou had allowed her thoughts to wander but she’d been aware of what had been said. She knew they would get nothing more out of Beau’s friends.
Lou gave an exasperated shake of her head, “That’s it … you can all leave now.”
The teenagers were slow to make a move.
“Out!” Lou pointed a finger to the door. “You too, Agent Fuckerwood.” Shit she hadn’t meant to call him Fuckerwood. She looked apologetically at him. “I didn’t mean that.” But yes she did mean to call him Fuckerwood.
The teenagers giggled at the sheriff bad mouthing the FBI agent.
Virgil looked dismayed at Lou’s vehemence directed at him. He guessed he deserved it.
Still giggling the teenagers exchanged glances, shrugged their shoulders, got up and without another word leisurely left the room.
Back at his log cabin Duane snapped out of his connection. He glanced at MB, who was giving him a curious look.
“You had me worried there for a moment. Where’d you go, dude?”
“Just lost in thought,” Duane said, shrugging off-handedly.
“Beaverites been talking about your episodes … they’re saying you become trance-like and nothing seems to bring you out until you’re all done … just like now.”
“Yeah I do tend to get a bit spaced-out, can’t help myself. Go figure.”
MB saw that telltale twinkle in Duane’s eye and wondered what the hell was going on inside his friend’s head. “Yeah, go figure.” With those words MB got up. “Well, I’m off. My work is never done.”
Chapter 24
Run Zola Run
DUANE HAD A damned good idea what MB was up to — searching for that million dollar prize. Good luck to him. He pondered on the film and had an inkling Zola had been a naughty girl. Of course, the obvious answer was Beau was hiding at Chad’s place in his basement, but his sixth sense kept nagging him to be prepared.
He sauntered into his cabin, kicked off his trainers and slipped on his Bigfoot slippers. That’s when he glimpsed flashing images coming from naughty girl Zola. The images were intermittent and jumbled.
Zola sat on her haunches at the edge of the special clearing in the woods, where Bigfoot prefer to mate, eating berries from a piece of bark. She allowed the afternoon sun to bathe her in its warmth, exaggerating her beautiful golden blonde hair. Behind her right ear she wore a white dog rose indicating she was in wuv.
Zola bleated, “Wooooooo … wooooooo … wooooooo.”
In her hairy lap were dozens of daisies, freshly picked. She picked two up with her clumsy fingers and tied them into a knot.
“Smet!” The task was difficult. She allowed the sun to shimmer from her luxurious hair as she spent a quiet moment creating a daisy-chain. While she made two chains, she hummed a sweet tune — “California Dreaming”.
Not far off behind a tree, MB watched the Bigfoot as it made a daisy-chain in a clearing deeper in the woods. Fortunately he was downwind of the Bigfoot. With his directional mic he could hear it humming “California Dreaming”.
His heart sank with the realization dumbass Duane had fooled him once again. Hold on — there’s no way Duane could get here so fast, he thought. So someone else was dressing up as Bigfoot. Who could it be? Could it be Annie? He crept along the forest floor making use of the undergrowth and trees to hide behind and came to a stop as his hand gripped a hefty boot. He looked up.
Grizzle-faced Skeet and Chuck, the two hunters last seen at Annie’s Diner, were dressed in army fatigues with clumps of grass and bushes stuffed here and there, and military-style peaked caps. They grinned down at MB with green and brown striped faces.
“Well … look what we got here, Chuck?” Skeet said with a wink.
“Duane’s dumbass friend,” Chuck guffawed. He removed an enormous Bowie knife and licked the sharp edge. The idiot grimaced in pain as blood trickled from his tongue. He threw the knife in between MB’s legs, just inches from his manhood.
MB quickly scrambled to his feet and scowled. “Ha-ha-ha … fucking assholes.” He was quite alarmed as they grinned maliciously, slowly raising their rifles at him.
Chuck spat blood and smirked, “Wonder how fast he can run, Skeet.”
Skeet giggled like a girl. “Not as fast as one of these babies.” He ki
ssed the barrel of his rifle.
MB kicked the knife into some bushes and backed away from them. He turned and ran hell-for-leather and hid behind a Redwood, doubling up to catch his breath.
MB aimed his mic around the tree and listened. They were going in the opposite direction. He breathed a sigh of relief and took a peek. The hunters cautiously walked up to the edge of the clearing with their rifles at the ready.
Shit this could get ugly! MB crept around the tree trunk, and in a crouched position, stalked the hunters. Trick was not getting plugged. By the looks of them, the hunters were unaware the mock Bigfoot was nearby. It never ceased to amaze, MB why hunters used foliage as camouflage — as if an animal wouldn’t think it strange seeing a bush walking through the forest.
The hunters didn’t speak to each other, only signaling with hand movements in a military style. They obviously didn’t want to be heard by any unsuspecting creature that might be within range of their rifles. Only the sound of undergrowth being snapped beneath their sturdy boots gave their presence away.
MB remained a healthy distance behind them. But what should he do. If he alerted the mock Bigfoot they might take a potshot at him.
The sound of undergrowth snapping should have alerted little Zola — she knew to be wary of humans with firesticks, but Zola was distracted with her feast of berries and thoughts of her plaything.
She was in wuv for the first time in her life, and it had to be with a human. No choice really, for all the males in her tribe were spoken for. Problem was the male gene was in short supply. There were only three adult males to the ten adult females in Zola’s Bigfoot tribe — and two of them were graying around the edges now.
Zola would soon make an 11th adult female and needed a virile young mate — like Boo. Zola’s desperate eyes had strayed outside her own species, but to mate with an un-chosen human was forbidden by The Elders.
She pondered her problem and continued to make her daisy-chain, happy in the knowledge she had found her perfect mate in her Boo. The trick was to keep him a secret long enough to change him to her ways. Then he would be all hers. The thing to do was get him to drink enough of the Jooobaaa that had been slowly fermented in a piece of hollow bark and let him drink the magic love potion under the moon as shown by The Elders.
Zola mewled, “Wooooooo … wooooooo … wooooooo.”
MB heard the animal call which confirmed the Bigfoot actually was Duane, who was about to get his ass shot off. His friend must’ve used his mountain bike on the forest trails to get here so fast. He monitored Skeet and Chuck, stealthily avoiding as many twigs as possible as they skirted the edge of the clearing, and homed in on the strange animal noises.
Zola’s ears pricked to the sound of her friends at the other end of the special clearing where the magical waters of Little Beaver River flowed. She sprang to her feet.
“Smet!” Picking up her daisies, she skipped across the glade. She stopped and crouched behind a collection of boulders. Before her was Teena.
Teena sniffed the air and giggled as only a Bigfoot could, “Fsfsfsfsfsfsfs.” She swirled her hips in a sexy dance.
Zola knew what this meant and eagerly awaited the arrival of Joee. And as luck would have it, along came Joee, a massive, muscular, seven-foot-tall, Bigfoot with greasy, slicked black hair. It was quite apparent Joee was rampant for Teena, the most comely of all Bigfoot Babes.
Joee called out, “Wooooooo … woooooooo.”
Teena heard the call and replied, “Wooooooo … weeeee … woooooooo.” She excitedly crushed a handful of berries and rubbed them between her legs.
Joee grabbed a handful of berries from a bush and rushed off to Teena. He burst through the thickets and did the Bigfoot Boogie around his mate, pumping his arms and swishing his hips. Joee held out a palm full of red berries and moved his hips from side to side in a provocative manner, indicating his desire to mate.
Teena looked at him and giggled, “Fsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfs.”
Zola was enthralled by the mating display, but she knew what a tease Teena was. And sure enough, Teena hesitated to accept his gift. She played hard to get.
“Weeee … woooo … weeee,” she bleated submissively.
Joee began to thrust his groin forward.
Teena smiled flirtatiously, taking the berries from his hand. She backed slowly away, taunting him with her blue eyes. With a snort she pretended to eat the berries which excited Joee until she showed them still in her hand. Still playing hard to get, she slapped away Joee’s awkward grasps at her swinging suckle-bumps.
Teena squealed and ate the berries indicating she was finally ready to mate.
With wild abandonment, Joee tossed his berries away and mated with Teena.
Zola sniggered and put a hand to her mouth.
“Wooooooo … woooooooo … wooooooooo,” Joee bleated with every thrust.
“Wooooo … weeeee … wooooo … woooooo … weeeeee … woooooo,” Teena bleated.
“Smet!” Zola felt the urge to doodoo. She carefully hung her daisy chains on a branch, dug a deep enough hole and squatted over it. After a few strains of the hips, Zola had finished her business. She pushed the loose earth back over the two foot dropping then skipped into the meadow.
She sat down and slid across the grass to wipe her bottom from leftover doodoo. At that moment her nostrils began to twitch as her olfactory senses detected the foul stink of strange humans. She took a big sniff. It wasn’t Doowane. He had a familiar scent that she had become accustomed to, not unlike her own. This odor was unfamiliar and very stinky. She knew she was in danger.
She jumped to her feet, screeching, “Eeeeeeeeee!”
Her hair prickled and fluffed up, making her seem much larger. In fear for her life, Zola ran from the edge of the clearing and back into the welcome embrace of the forest.
MB watched in disbelief as the Bigfoot ran into the forest, screeching as if in a panic. That Bigfoot sure as heck wasn’t behaving like Duane and didn’t sound like him either. It behaved almost female. Chad’s mock Bigfoot!
He watched Skeet and Chuck stand up in total surprise. Their excited looks said it all — if we bag this Bigfoot we’d be rich and famous.
MB also panicked as the hunters aimed their weapons. He snatched several pebbles and threw them at the hunters. They opened fire at the sight of the fleeing Bigfoot, without any thought to the ramifications of depriving the scientific community of investigating a living example of a species hitherto deemed nonexistent. Thankfully, bullets splintered saplings all around the Bigfoot as it made good its escape. MB picked up some more stones and threw them at the pissed-off hunters. He ducked behind a tree as the hunters whirled around.
Zola squealed as intense pain flared in her shoulder where a bullet found its mark. She gave a shrill cry, “Eeeeeeeeeeee.” She was very afraid now. Her heart pounded, running for her life. Tears filled her eyes. She didn’t want to be shot at any more, but more bullets zinged past her, followed by thunderous booms.
“Eeeeeeee,” Zola screamed, smashing through the forest, ignoring her injured shoulder and thorns from brambles that ripped clumps of hair from her body. She charged right at Teena and Joee still mating.
In a panic, Teena grabbed hold of Joee’s arm, “Eeeeeeee.”
The Bigfoot lovers’ hair puffed out with alarm. As Zola caught up with them, all three Bigfoot ran off into the woods in the direction of familiar swirling smoke drifting from the tree tops.
All three screamed, “Eeeeeeeeee!”
MB didn’t know what to do. His mic told him Duane or whoever the hell it was, was okay and rapidly leaving the hunters behind. But his mic also told him that Duane had company. He watched the hunters holler and whoop with joy and give chase. MB ran after them, barely keeping them in sight.
Skeet and Chuck tracked the obvious Bigfoot signs through the dense undergrowth.
Skeet lifted his fingers. “Bigfoot blood!”
Chuck and Skeet did a high-five. “Holy shit, we’re gonna be so f
ucking rich.”
Skeet agreed, “Oh yeah. Come on, let’s finish the job.”
Chapter 25
MB’S Old Indian Legend Saves the Day
DUANE RELAXED ON the disgusting sofa, wearing his tartan long-johns and reading the week’s TV guide, even though he didn’t have a TV as his home had no electricity. He just liked to keep up on celebrity gossip and so wasn’t connected to his hairy friends’ fear.
He flicked through more pages and chuckled as he thought of his latest prank to keep those deputies off the sweet stuff. All of a sudden he went stiff with shock.
A sickening rush of panic and dread twisted his gut into knots at the fear emanating from Zola, Teena and Joee. Their terror assaulted his brain. Then came the gunshots. He tossed the magazine onto the floor and leapt from the sofa in one agile, fluid movement as he heard frantic Bigfoot panic cries.
“Eeeeeeeeee … eeeeeeeee … eeeeeeeee.”
He rushed over to the side cabinet situated next to the cabin door. His father’s rifle was beside the cabinet, propped against the wall where it had gathered dust over the years. Duane checked the breach. It was loaded. His hands trembled as he held the hated thing. There was anguish in his eyes.
At the sound of another gunshot followed by more Bigfoot screams, Duane flung open the cabin door and stepped out onto the porch to determine the direction the shots were coming from.
Zola looked up to see the comforting swirls of smoke from Doowane’s cabin. Safety was so very close. Bang! Another bullet snapped a sapling less than an inch from her.
“Eeeeeeeee!” Zola crashed through the undergrowth towards the swirling smoke. She mewled and cried in terror as the hunters were getting closer. In her panic, she stumbled over a fallen tree and crashed to the ground.
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