by Ann Aguirre
EL Ian walked up the side streets with the little, slumbering Victorian houses sitting in rows. Past the gas station and into the woods.
AB It seemed like he hiked for hours, up through the pines and aspens. The ground grew rocky underfoot.
EL Jen followed from a distance, a little scared by the woods, but determined to learn more. Once Ian stopped & turned, as if he’d heard her.
AB Even if he can’t hear me, she thought to herself, then he can probably smell the sweaty stank I’m emitting all over this poor forest.
EL What did he mean, “It can never be.” Why? Was it just because she was a college girl and he was a bartender? That was stupid.
AB Finally, she saw Ian approach a rock wall at the base of a cliff. And she saw a dark opening in the wall—a cave. No effin’ way!
EL Ian lived in a cave?! Oh man, Jen thought, just my luck. The first guy I really feel something for is some kind of spelunking fanatic.
AB Then she had another thought: He could be homeless and ashamed of it. Hmm, a real homeless guy. Was there something kinda sexy about that?
EL No, there wasn’t.
AB Yes, maybe there was …
EL He’s homeless, Jen thought, getting her head back in the game. He’s homeless and that’s why he’s pushing me away.
AB Too bad so sad for him, Jen smirked to herself. I’m not going anywhere. Except right into that thar mancave!
EL Just as Ian ducked into the cave, Jen heard a sound behind her.
AB She turned and caught a glimpse of something tall.
EL Something wild.
AB A bear? A gorilla? A huge-freaking-something coming at her.
EL The huge-freaking-something picked up a rock the size of her carry-on luggage.
AB Bam, carry-on luggage to the head. And everything went dark.
EL When Jen woke up, the constant rhythm of a headache thumped at her temples.
AB She found she couldn’t move—she had been tied up with some kind of homespun twine that smelled like wet Chihuahua.
EL Jen looked around, taking in her surroundings with disbelief and spiraling dizziness. The walls and floor and ceiling were rock.
AB The air smelled damp and masculine. Musky, even.
EL Jen was lying on some kind of bed made out of piles of animal skins. “Hello?” she called. “Ian?”
AB What had happened to her last night? She remembered seeing the bear-gorilla-thing before she was hit. What the eff was that thing?
EL Jen shifted to get a better look at the cave. There were lots more animal skins and also some strange tufts of wool on the rocky floor.
AB The tufts had collected in the corners, sort of like snowdrifts. Stinky, hairy snowdrifts. Nice.
EL A few human objects were here and there—some folded clothes, tin mugs and plates, and a mirror and wash basin set on a small ledge.
AB Definitely a mancave, Jen thought to herself. The only things missing were a neon beer sign and a dart board.
EL There was even a poster tacked up onto one of the boulders—a street in Cairo at twilight. Huh.
AB This is where Ian lives? Jen thought. But why? She looked at the piles of skins. And did he kill these himself? Hadn’t he seen Bambi?
EL Ian’s living quarters seemed … less than ideal. The opposite of ideal.
AB No cable, no running water, and the nearest Starbucks was a sweaty 8 miles of hiking away.
EL Then again, so was civilization and with it her parents and the subtle but constant pressure to become a stockbroker like her dad.
AB As she glanced around, the cave and its possibilities began to flourish with appeal.
EL Then she remembered she was there more as a hostage than a guest. After all, people didn’t usually tie up their overnight guests.
AB No, people usually didn’t tie up their guests … unless they had been reading Fifty Shades.
EL “Hello? Ian? I’m awake,” she called.
AB There was movement at the head of the cave but it was too dark to see anything.
EL A single candle offered the only light, and its glow only illuminated so much.
AB Maybe with more candles she’d see a toilet and a flatscreen. One could hope, right?
EL “Ian?” she called. “I’m sorry I followed you. I shouldn’t have.”
AB She tried not to panic. Please, she prayed, don’t let Ian be some kind of serial killer. Let there be a good reason I’m tied up.
EL And then she saw it.
AB A towering form entered, hunched considerably by the cave ceiling. 8 feet tall, maybe more. Covered with long, shaggy fur.
EL The hands of an ape. The face of a monster.
AB Probably the teeth of a shark, but Jen didn’t foresee him smiling anytime soon.
EL He was … he was … there was no use in denying it. He was a Sasquatch.
AB Jen felt like she was gonna go nuts, but he was real! Not legend, not myth. She was looking at a big living breathing freaking bigfoot.
EL One that knew how to knock humans unconscious and bind them with homespun ropes.
AB The beast shuffled forward, holding something in his giant, wooly mitt. He grunted and then lunged forward.
EL Jen struggled and kicked, trying to back away. “Get away from me!” she screamed. The huge animal pulled back.
AB The daylight from the cave’s entrance went dark as he backed out. And then the sunlight returned.
EL The small waft from his exit caused the lone candle flame to dance. He was gone.
AB Good, she thought to herself. Maybe he realized how close he was to getting his Squatchy balls kicked.
EL And then she saw that the Sasquatch had set something down—a tin cup full of blueberries. It lay close to Jen, right at her side.
AB Oh geez, she thought. The Sasquatch was gentle. He meant no harm. And apparently he had opposable thumbs, too.
EL Jen looked at that tin cup for a long time and then her headache-ridden, fully uncaffeinated mind pieced together what must be happening.
AB Ian had somehow tamed a Sasquatch. He must take care of it and act, somehow, as his protector, she realized.
EL It explained why the animal had attacked her the night before. The Sasquatch must have thought she was a threat.
AB It didn’t know that she loved Ian, too. Or maybe it did, and it was jealous of her. And maybe it should get over it.
EL “I’m sorry,” Jen called. “I understand you won’t hurt me. Come back, please, Mr.… Beast-thing-fellow.”
AB The Sasquatch stuck his shaggy head into the cave. “Please,” Jen said. “Can you untie me?”
EL The Sasquatch grunted in the affirmative.
AB Or at least, that was what it sounded like; her aunt Lucy always made that same sound when offered a second helping of fried chicken.
EL His giant fingers were clumsy with the twine. She tried not to shrink back from him. Animals smell fear, she reminded herself.
AB He began to grumble in frustration. “Easy now,” Jen murmured. But the animal bared his teeth.
EL A scream rose and then died in Jen’s throat as the Sasquatch leaned forward and bit through her bindings.
AB Not her wrists. Not her throat. Just the dumb rope.
EL “Thanks,” she said, wondering when, when, when Ian would show up and explain his living situation and his unique, hirsute roommate.
AB He grunted in reply. And Jen officially decided he must be related to her aunt Lucy.
EL Jen got to her feet wearily. She saw a canteen filled with water and drank from it. She couldn’t ever remember being so thirsty.
AB Luckily, she had a Nature Valley granola bar in her purse. So what if they were little-kid-ish—they were delicious!
EL She gobbled it down, then assaulted the tin cup of blueberries.
AB What she would have given for a double red eye with a foam cap. But still, it was breakfast.
EL The Sasquatch watched Jen eat and drink. When she was done, he raised a
hairy paw and pointed toward the mouth of the cave.
AB “You want me to go?” Jen asked. He grunted.
EL “I want to wait for Ian,” Jen said. “Please, I need to talk to him before I go.” The beast pushed her toward the exit. And daylight.
AB “I don’t want to hurt him!” she said. “I’ll never tell his secret—that he’s your protector. I just want … I want to tell him I love him.”
EL It had slipped out of her mouth, but Jen realized it was true. She did love Ian.
AB The idea of insta-love had always repelled her. All those idiot Disney princesses falling for a guy after a ballroom dance and a kiss.
EL But here she’d gone and done the same thing. And they hadn’t even had a real, real kiss yet, for goodness’ sake!
AB The Sasquatch watched her, his eyes looking sad, somehow.
EL Maybe he’s seen other lovesick girls up here, trailing after Ian. Maybe this happens all the time.
AB What a great reality show this would make, Jen thought as she polished off the last blueberries. He, She & It!
EL Then there came a sound—a horrible animal bellow from outside.
AB Next to Jen, the Sasquatch growled—more fiercely than Aunt Lucy ever had.
EL He rose and prowled out of the cave. Jen stumbled to her feet.
AB The sounds that came from outside were horrific: snarling, pounding, branches and skulls cracking.
EL Jen slowly approached the mouth of the cave, afraid of what she would see …
AB Outside, the Sasquatch fought another of its kind. Teeth gnashed. Fur flew.
EL Their howls and war cries filled the woods. The beasts attacked each other with a raw and deadly grace.
AB And somehow, to Jen’s watchful eye, the fight seemed personal. The Sasquatches were pissed—at each other.
EL Ian’s Sasquatch threw the other into a tree. Snap and crash—the pine toppled over and finally, the attack ended.
AB The other brute slunk away, giving Jen a dirty look over its shoulder. She wondered whether it would understand the middle finger.
EL “Was that … was that about me?” Ian’s Sasquatch grunted in the affirmative as it squatted on the ground to lick his wounds.
AB “I’m sorry,” she said. “I promise I will go as soon as I have the chance to talk to Ian.”
EL The beast shot her a look that said, You’d better. Together, they settled in to wait.
AB Where could Ian be? Maybe he had a day job he hadn’t mentioned to Jen. That seemed possible … likely, even.
EL She’d just have to wait.
AB “Well,” she said. “Might as well make myself useful!”
EL She started to tidy up a bit. The cave certainly needed it.
AB Jen took the animal skins outside and beat them against the rock wall of the cliff, holding her breath from the stank that wafted up.
EL She folded Ian’s clothes and put them in a tidy pile.
AB She wanted to smell them, to take in Ian’s yummy scent, but for some reason she would feel humiliated if the bigfoot saw her do it.
EL The Sasquatch was keeping busy, too, running some secret Sasquatchy errands, Jen supposed. Every so often he came and checked on her.
AB For the moment, he was just squatting by the entrance to the cave, watching her and picking his teeth with a twig.
EL Jen’s stomach growled. Loud. The Sasquatch gave a huff. A laugh, maybe? He beckoned to Jen.
AB I hope he doesn’t think I speak Sasquatch, Jen thought. His body beard will grow gray before that happens. He grunted again.
EL “I’m coming, I’m coming.” She followed the animal out of the cave and up a switchback path that lead to the top of the cliff.
AB There she saw an abandoned campsite, with a fire blazing cheerfully in a pit. So the Sasquatch was a Boy Scout?
EL Two skinned rabbits were roasting above the flames on a spit and a skillet filled with wild onions sat steaming off to the side.
AB A Boy Scout and a chef? Jen was impressed! She couldn’t remember the last time she cooked—burned—something without a microwave.
EL “You did all this?” Jen asked the Sasquatch. He shrugged in a demure way that nearly made Jen laugh out loud.
AB Who knew Sasquatches could be demure? And who knew Sasquatches could shrug?
EL The food was delicious. The Sasquatch squatted on his haunches and ate along with Jen, both of them tearing into the food with abandon.
AB She knew if Ian were here, she’d probably try to be a little feminine and maybe chew her food. But she ate as wildly as the bigfoot beside her.
EL Eating like a beast—with a beast—on the top of a mountain cliff. My parents should see me now, Jen thought. She felt fierce.
AB Ian makes me brave and this Sasquatch makes me feel wild. Okay—am I really assessing how a Sasquatch makes me feel?
EL “Yum,” Jen said. She lay on the ground, watching dreamy clouds drift above.
AB It felt like watching a baby’s mobile made by Mother Nature, with the wind in the scrub oak as her lullaby.
EL I could get used to this, Jen thought. And she drifted off to sleep as the Sasquatch sighed.
AB When she woke, it was the late afternoon. She sat up with a start. Was Ian back yet? Where was her ’Squatch?
EL From the shadows, the giant beast grunted to her. He had been keeping watch, she realized. It was kind of sweet.
AB Did he have a crush on her? Did Sasquatches even get crushes? Did sane people ask themselves if Sasquatches got crushes?
EL The fire burned, making a pretty glow as the sun, finally, began to set. The Sasquatch started crooning. His song was somehow … familiar.
AB “Is that ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ by One Direction?!” she asked in shock.
EL The Sasquatch grunted in the affirmative and kept on humming. He was … well … he was pretty good.
AB If his mouth could form words, he could be the sixth member of One Direction, Jen thought.
EL That band could really use a basso profundo to ground their sound. Then she shook herself out of her reverie.
AB “When will Ian be back?” Jen said. “Do you think … do you think he’s staying away because I’m here?”
EL That was probably it. He didn’t want to face her. Or he thought she was nuts.
AB Tears slipped from her eyes. What was she doing here, on a cliff top, with a Sasquatch, watching the sunset?
EL … while he serenaded her with a teen pop ballad?
AB Suddenly the Sasquatch patted her on the back. She looked up. There was a kindness in his gray eyes.
EL He pointed out to the sunset. “Yes,” Jen said. “It’s beautiful…” He pointed with more urgency. “It’s really beautiful.”
AB And then the Sasquatch began to shake. Violent spasms tore through his body.
EL “What is it?” she cried. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”
AB He was shaking so hard some fur was flying off. Then she realized all his fur was coming off. Like mange at the speed of light.
EL As the sun flared behind the horizon, a golden light burst from the body of the Sasquatch.
AB She gasped. It was … He was …
EL Ian. He stood there in all his naked glory.
AB And “glory” was the understatement of the millennium.
EL Jen backed away, looked away, but then took another good look. Yep, it was Ian all right.
AB She would know those, uh, shoulders anywhere.
EL “Jen,” Ian said, “I never wanted you to see. To know about me.”
AB “You-you-you’re a Sasquatch,” Jen stammered. A man by night and a bigfoot by day.
EL “Yes,” Ian answered simply. “That’s what I couldn’t tell you. This is the reason we can never be together.”
AB It was too much for Jen. The tears that had fallen before were nothing compared with the sobs that wracked her now.
EL Disappointment and confusion overwhelmed her. Ian knelt and held
her in his arms.
AB Which made it a million times worse.
EL “I fall in love,” Jen cried. “I fall in love and it’s with a freaking bigfoot!”
AB “We really prefer the term Sasquatch,” Ian said. He cracked a smile and Jen laughed.
EL They laughed together, first chuckling and then roaring in the twilight. Jen wiped the tears from her eyes, when the laughs finally let up.
AB “You do realize you’re naked, right?” Jen asked.
EL “Yeah,” Ian answered. His bashful grin made Jen blush. “You stay here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
AB He came back a few minutes later, fully dressed, and carrying some skins for them to sit on. He handed her a metal flask.
EL “Is that whiskey?” Jen asked. “You know I’m underage.”
AB “No, it’s coffee.”
“Coffee! Where was it?” she said. “I would have killed for some coffee before!”
EL “You have to know where to look,” Ian said. “I have a lot of stuff hidden away in that cave.”
AB “Do you have a hot shower hidden there?” Jen asked dryly.
EL “God, you’re funny,” Ian said. “And beautiful. It was all I could do to keep my hands off you all day.”
AB “That would not have been cool!” Jen laughed. Being macked on by a Sasquatch? No thanks.
EL Ian handed her the coffee again and she drained the last drops.
