Bigfoot, Tobin & Me

by Melissa Savage

  ‘The Littlefoot,’ I whisper.

  53. Lemonade

  ‘How could you not have taken a picture?’ Tobin demands for the zillionth time in a row.

  We’re all sitting around Charlie’s kitchen table. Me, Debbie, Charlie and Tobin, that same night after they come home from visiting Scotty at the hospital.

  Debbie told us that Scotty is making great progress already, and the doctors think he’ll be able to go back home soon. Tobin said he beat Scotty in six out of seven games of draughts, but he thought maybe Scotty let him win some of them.

  ‘I told you.’ I sigh a loud sigh. ‘It happened so fast that my brain just stopped working. I–I didn’t know what else to do.’

  ‘How about snap a Polaroid? Remember? Always a picture first. Always a picture—’

  ‘I know it,’ I say. ‘But I already told you, my brain stopped working. It was like I was frozen in my skin.’

  ‘So, let me get this straight.’ Tobin holds his head in his hands. ‘Instead of taking a picture with the camera hanging from your neck so that Bigfoot Detectives Inc. could go down in cryptozoological history and make a discovery that would be in every science book until the end of time, you shared your snack cake.’

  He says the last five words really slow, like he can’t believe his ears.

  ‘And you were wrong, too. He did like it,’ I tell him. ‘He ate the thing in one gulp. And only a few chews.’

  Tobin slaps his forehead and shakes his head.

  ‘I can’t believe you didn’t get a picture,’ he says again.

  ‘But I was right, right?’

  ‘Who cares?’

  ‘I care,’ I say.

  He slaps his forehead and shakes his head again.

  ‘It’s not like I planned it or anything,’ I say. ‘I–I–I couldn’t think.’ I turn to Debbie. ‘I couldn’t. My brain froze up.’

  ‘Of course, Lemonade.’ Debbie touches my arm. ‘What a frightening experience. I would have been terrified.’

  ‘I was scared for sure,’ I say to her, and then turn to Charlie. ‘But then I remembered what you said about him being more scared of me. And he was, Charlie. He really was.’

  ‘Are you sure it wasn’t someone in a suit?’ Tobin glares at me with his arms crossed.

  ‘Very funny,’ I say. ‘But you know what? You can ask me that, and I don’t even care. You want to know why? Because it was real.’ I look at Charlie and then at Debbie. ‘A real live being. With eyes and a nose and even black fingernails.’

  ‘Black fingernails?’ Debbie repeats.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘And crooked toenails, too.’

  Tobin huffs a loud sigh.

  ‘I can’t believe you saw one.’ He looks straight at me. ‘Before me! I’m the founder and president of Bigfoot Detectives Inc. You’re just the assistant. It isn’t fair.’

  ‘Well, maybe it’s time to change that,’ I say.

  ‘Change what?’

  ‘My status.’

  I look at Charlie, and he’s giving me a toothy grin. Bigger than any toothy grin I’ve ever seen on him.

  ‘I like it,’ Charlie says.

  ‘You do?’ I ask.

  ‘Are you kidding? Of course I do!’

  Tobin looks back and forth between Charlie and me. Back at me and then at Charlie.

  ‘You’re saying you want to be real half-and-half partners?’ Tobin asks.

  I think about it.

  ‘Fifty-fifty,’ I say, smiling. ‘Witt–Sky Bigfoot Detectives Inc.’

  Tobin studies me.

  ‘That means you’re staying?’ he asks.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘For good?’

  ‘Yep,’ I say again.

  ‘Cross your heart?’

  ‘Cross my heart,’ I say.

  ‘Not going to change your mind?’

  ‘Nope,’ I say.

  ‘Not going to blow this taco stand?’

  ‘It’s a Popsicle stand! A Popsicle stand! And no. I’m not going to blow this Popsicle stand.’

  He leans back in his chair and looks at me for a long time with wrinkled eyebrows.

  ‘How about we just keep it Bigfoot Detectives Inc. and I make you vice president? You can be in charge of the operations . . . some of the operations,’ he says.

  ‘You mean like moving the message pad?’ I ask.

  ‘That’s a whole different level of security clearance.’

  I roll my eyes.

  ‘Well? Are you in or not?’ he asks.

  I think about it.

  ‘Deal,’ I say, holding out my hand.

  He holds out his, and we shake on our new partnership.

  ‘I think a promotion like this deserves some ice cream,’ Debbie says. ‘Don’t you agree, Charlie?’

  Charlie clears his throat a couple of times before he answers.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he says.

  ‘Strawberry?’ I smile up at Debbie.

  ‘What else?’ Debbie grins back at me and places an arm around my shoulders.

  ‘Vanilla,’ Tobin states flatly.

  Debbie and I look at each other and laugh.

  ‘Wait!’ Tobin slaps both palms on the table and then darts up and out of the room. The screen door bangs, and we hear his footsteps pound down the porch steps.

  ‘Where in the world is he going?’ I ask Debbie. ‘Oh, wait, I know. I have to sign it in triplicate, right?’

  She just smiles and takes a sip from her flowered mug.

  Decaf, with more cream than coffee and two teaspoons of sugar.

  Charlie pushes his chair back and leans towards the counter. He grabs the big manila envelope, the one full of official papers that Delores Jaworski left at the shop. He carefully opens it and pulls out a packet of pages stuck together with a single staple.

  ‘You’re really sure?’ he asks.

  This time I don’t even have to think about it.

  ‘I’m sure,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t want to leave you or Tobin or Debbie or Mrs Dickerson or Mr Harold or Scotty or even the Bigfoot.’

  He smiles, and I smile too. Debbie sniffs and wipes at her eyes with the corner of a folded paper towel. I watch Charlie scribble his name in cursive on the line at the bottom of the page and then slip it back in the envelope. He licks the top and seals it tight.

  ‘It’s official, you’re stuck with me,’ he tells me.

  I lie my head on his arm and smell the Irish Spring mixed with Old Spice.

  ‘You’re stuck with me, too,’ I say.

  ‘Nothing I want more.’ He places his large hand gently on my head.

  The screen door bangs again, and Tobin is back and all out of breath and lobbing something in my direction.

  ‘Here,’ he says.

  I catch it. I know exactly what it is the minute it touches my hands. I lay it on the table and smooth out all the wrinkles.

  A brown safari hat.

  Of my very own.

  And not just any safari hat. One with hand-painted letters across the brim.

  BIGFOOT DETECTIVES INC.

  ‘When did you—’

  ‘I knew you’d change your mind,’ he says. ‘You’re Lemonade. You have been all along, you just forgot. I knew you’d find it again.’

  ‘Yeah?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Here, let me put it on you.’

  I get up from my chair, and he pulls the hat down on top of my head and then adjusts the strap until it’s so tight I can hardly swallow. We stand there staring at each other with big goofy grins on our faces in our brown safari hats, strapped tightly under our chins.

  ‘Lemonade Liberty Witt, I hereby promote you to vice president of Bigfoot Detectives Inc. And I hereby promote you to fully fledged Bigfoot detective. But first, raise your right hand.’

  ‘Not again!’ I exclaim.

  ‘It’s for a whole new level of clearance,’ he tells me, raising his right hand high in the air.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, raising mine, too.

  ‘I, L
emonade Liberty Witt, promise with all faith and allegiance to follow all Bigfoot Detectives Inc. protocol herein set forth by Tobin Sky, the founder and president—’

  ‘Give me a break.’

  ‘Say it.’

  I repeat it, but only with another big eye roll about the whole faith and allegiance thing.

  ‘And I will well and faithfully perform the duties of the office of vice president with Bigfoot Detectives Inc. . . .’

  ‘What does a wheel well have to do with anything?’

  ‘It’s not a wheel well; it’s will well. That’s what soldiers say in their oath.’

  ‘I still don’t get what a wheel well has to do with it.’

  ‘It’s not . . . just say it.’

  ‘With a wheel well, I will do the job of vice president with Bigfoot Detectives Inc. . . .’

  Tobin eyes me. ‘Close enough,’ he says. ‘And . . . I hereby promise not to blab any confidential cryptozoological information, and . . . I promise I won’t move the message pad because I still haven’t obtained the proper level of clearance.’

  I drop my hand. ‘Come on!’

  ‘All right.’ He smiles. ‘I guess you’re official.’

  Charlie and Debbie raise their coffee mugs and cheer.

  My fingers touch the brim of the hat.

  My very own safari hat.

  And I feel myself grinning so hard that my cheeks hurt. ‘Well? What do you think?’ I ask him, posing like I’m searching for the next midtarsal-break footprint.

  He peers at me over his wire-rims, studying me like one of his puzzle pieces.

  ‘I think,’ he says, ‘it’s a perfect fit.’

  ‘I think so too,’ I say. ‘How about the yellow legal pad? Do I have clearance for that?’

  Tobin thinks about it.

  ‘Maybe,’ he says, and then grabs my arm. ‘Wait . . . was that the green phone ringing?’

  ‘Tobin Sky, don’t you even think about it,’ Debbie says. ‘It’s nine o’clock at night. The Bigfoot can wait until morning.’

  ‘Oh, Mom, time means nothing to the cryptozoologist.’

  ‘Well, it means something to the cryptozoologist’s mother.’ She smiles at Charlie.

  Tobin huffs a big sigh and then looks at me.

  ‘Oh eight thirty hours, partner?’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ I say.

  ‘I really hope so this time, because, you know, you have a tendency to be late, and I told you I’m going to have to put that in your employee file. Vice president or not. It’s the rules, and without rules—’

  ‘I know, I know, there’s anarchy. Don’t worry, I’ll be there!’ I say.

  ‘Should we synchronize?’

  ‘Tobin!’

  ‘OK, OK.’

  He smiles at me, and I smile at him, and then we hear it. A call from deep inside the woods.

  ‘Whoooooooooooo!’

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I wish to thank my agent, Laurie McLean, for having faith in a story about a Twinkie-eating cryptid stalking the woods of Northern California. Thank you for helping me shape this story into the best it can be and for your guidance and enthusiasm, and especially for making my dream come true. I am also eternally grateful to Emily Easton and the team at Crown for all their hard work and dedication to this story. Thank you, Emily, for falling in love with Lemonade and Tobin and for your excitement to be the one to share their story. A special thanks to Barry Cunningham and the team at Chicken House for all your work and commitment to be a part of this amazing journey. Thank you, Barry, for your confidence and your zeal to share this story in another part of the world.

  I wish to express my gratitude to all the incredible people involved with the Hamline University writing programme. To the professors and guest lecturers alike, you may not know that your words meant the world in my journey to this place, but they did.

  Thank you to all my friends and family – there are too many of you to mention by name, but you know who you are. Mom and Dad, thank you for encouraging our love of books from the start. Scott, thank you for being the best big brother anyone could ask for. And to my husband, thank you for always putting my writing first even when it didn’t seem practical to do so. And thank you for being as excited about my dream coming true as I am. I love you all.

  A special thanks to Dr Jeff Meldrum for tweaking my anthropological facts with the words that only a professor of anatomy and anthropology would know.

  And finally, I would like to express my deepest love and gratitude to Tobin. Your bravery, love and grace continue to teach me things I never knew I needed to know. You are my heart and truly a gift for which I will forever be grateful. I promised you a Bigfoot adventure, Little Man, and this story is for you.

  About the Author

  MELISSA SAVAGE is a writer and a therapist for children and families. Her desire to write purposeful, issue-driven books for young people, coupled with her interest in cryptozoology and the mystery of Bigfoot, inspired her to write Bigfoot, Tobin and Me (published as Lemons in the US). Melissa lives in Minneapolis. You can follow her on Twitter at @melissadsavage, and visit her at melissadsavage.com.

  Text © Melissa Savage 2017

  Illustrations © Daron Parton 2017

  Published by arrangement with Random House Children’s Books, a division of

  Penguin Random House LLC, New York, NY, U.S.A. All rights reserved.

  First paperback edition published in Great Britain in 2017

  This electronic edition published in 2017

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  Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

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  Cover and interior design by Helen Crawford-White

  Cover and interior illustrations by Daron Parton

  Produced in the UK by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon CR0 4YY

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication data available.

  PB ISBN 978-1-911077-18-3

  eISBN 978-1-911077-51-0