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by Katrinka Mannerlly


  Believe

  Kerri invited Chris on a cryptozoology-celebrate-Champy-the-lake-monster weekend to test their fledgling relationship.

  The drive from Cambridge to Burlington flew by. Every hour Chris became more interesting. Every mile uncovered something new they had in common. They both loved the Replacements, lived through being a middle child, and found all forms of squash inedible. In Chris’s company, the simple futon in her sister and brother-in-law’s living room felt romantic. He went along with every one of her crazy plans for the trip smiling the whole way.

  They laughed and held hands through all of yesterday’s big event, a street fair and sidewalk sale on the New York side of Lake Champlain. A lunch of charred Champy burgers, greasy lakeside fries, and a green mint lake monster milkshake – one shake, two straws, tasted exquisite when shared with Chris at an old fashion beachside picnic table-type joint. They watched amused but respectful as a resident musician performed an original Champy song, a musical rendition of the “Plesiosaurus theory” held by most locals.

  Kerri cleaned out the Champy crafts and swag table manned by the musician’s girlfriend. Her take included an EP of the Champy song, a self-published book, Champy, the Lake Monster Revealed, complete with a misspelling on the cover, a ceramic Champy toothbrush holder—Kerri’s favorite find, and matching Champy t-shirts for her and Chris. That night they ate and drank their way through the charming Church Street neighborhood with Kerri’s sister and brother-in-law and ended the evening with late-night video games and drinks back at the condo. Chris had been fun, engaged, and attentive through all or it. She could not have wished for more.

  This morning, after devouring a tower of gooey nacho spuds for brunch they rented a boat and rowed around the lake ready for an up close Champy encounter. Kerri brought along her recently purchased copy of Champy, the Lake Monster Revealed, and read a few of the kookier eye-witness accounts out loud. Chris looked hot in his new Champy shirt.

  For the first time all weekend the conversation lagged. They stopped rowing, took a break from telling the all important “getting to know you” stories that were bringing them closer and closer together, and just drifted on the lake. Kerri let her fingertips drag just below the water’s surface, cool and pleasant. She ogled Chris, hoping her sunglasses would make it less obvious. What a good-looking guy. His mixed Chinese and African heritage resulted in creamy caramel skin, deep brown eyes, and a lean strapping stature. She marveled at her good fortune that he was there with her.

  He beamed right at her. Busted. He caught her starring. She laughed embarrassed. To break the tension, she tapped the surface the lake and called, “Champy, here, Champy, Champy, Champy.” They both laughed.

  “I love you,” Chris blurted, caught up in the moment with this awesome, funny, gorgeous girl.

  He loves me. He said it. Stunned in the best sort of way, Kerri smiled. Her heart pounded and mind raced. The cliché of it all shocked her even more. What a beautiful, perfect moment. She wanted to say it back. She definitely felt it, but an enormous green-grey head atop a human-sized section of muscular neck gracefully rose from the water two feet off the left side of the boat. It was Champy no doubt. She looked just like the drawing on Chris’s shirt.

  She watched Kerri and Chris as Kerri and Chris eyed her. No one moved.

  After thirty eternal seconds Kerri broke the spell by pulling her phone out of her pocket. She tapped the camera app and tried to snap a picture, but her hand shook.

  In sharp contrast to the way she had emerged, Champy’s head snapped back under the surface with the sharp whip of a retracting tape measure. The hasty retreat caused a wake that pitched the boat into an uncontrollable wobble.

  “Crap. My phone.”

  Chris’s hand shot out and grabbed it before it hit the drink.

  “Oh. My. God.” Champy occupied every bit of her consciousness. She had just seen a lake monster.

  She snatched the phone from Chris’s hand and scrolled. She had gotten a pic…of something.

  It didn’t look like much and certainly didn’t look like a lake monster. The fuzzy image mostly looked like a greenish-grey rock hitting the sur- face. With nothing but water and the rock-head in the photo there wasn’t even a perspective for the size of the thing.

  But it didn’t matter. Kerri knew what it was. She saw a lake monster, a real, live lake monster. They both did and they had proof – sort of. Her mind caught on “they”– Chris! Oops, in her excitement, she’d totally forgotten about Chris.

  “Chris. I don’t believe it. It’s amazing…We just saw Champy. She’s real.”

  “Soooo cool, but of course she is. Didn’t you already know that? Isn’t that why we came?”

  “I mean, yeah…we came to see her…you know, sort of like she was real, but she is real. I mean, really real. We really, really saw her.”

  “Are you saying that you didn’t believe in her before?”

  “I think I did. I mean, I guess I wanted to believe in her, but now I do. I mean, how could I not? We saw her. Everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “Everything.” Kerri yelled without meaning to. “We have to tell people. We have to show them.”

  “We do?” “Of course.”

  “Who do we need to tell and what do we need to tell them?”

  “Everyone. Everyone needs to know that’s she’s real.”

  “Lots people already know. We spent all day yesterday at a festival full of people who knew. You just read pages from your book about people who also saw her.”

  “But this is different. It’s us. We know. Don’t you think that’s different?”

  “I already knew. Not one hundred percent, but I was pretty sure. I guess that’s why I’m not freaking out.”

  “You’re not, are you? Wow, here I thought I was the true believer, but I guess you were all along. But Chris, come on, get excited. We need to share this with the world. It’s so important.”

  “It’s important yes, but I am not going share it with the world. I’m not planning to tell anyone.”

  “Are you crazy? Why not?” “Because I care.”

  “You think I don’t? I do. I mean, what about scientists? They need to know. They need to study her and, you know, improve her habitat. That sort of thing.”

  “Her habitat seems fine now. How do you think they would study her? Isolate her? Capture her? Take samples? Or worse. I think she just made it pretty clear that she doesn’t even want her picture taken. And imagine we were somehow able to convince a scientist that she’s real and then word got out. Do you think Champy tours and chatzky stands would improve her habitat?”

  She wanted to snap back. The thrill of seeing Champy was still coursing through her and she was far too excited for Chris’s rational thoughts. Her body needed fight or flight or something. How could he think so clearly? He really was perfect, and he was right on every count. She felt unworthy of his recent declaration of love. He had said “I love you,” and she hadn’t responded at all. Instead she had argued with him. He said, “I love you” and she picked a fight, their first fight. What if it were their last? The thought “what an idiot I am,” materialized in her head, but she felt it, deep and harsh in the gut.

  “Chris, I’m so sorry. I’m blowing it aren’t I? I’m ruining everything. You said ‘I love you’ and I didn’t say it back, even though I do. I do, I love you, but it’s lame to say it now.”

  “No, it isn’t. And anyway, I kind of knew. Just like Champy, I wasn’t one hundred percent, but I was pretty sure. Seeing her doesn’t make it her any more or less real and hearing you say the words doesn’t make them any more or less true. Wanting to believe in something isn’t the same as believing in something and I for one believe in us.”

  This time it was Kerri who sent the boat rocking as she launched herself at him; enough talk.

  After a wet and wild make-out session they sat holding one another, exhausted but happy, looking out over the glassy lake.<
br />
  “Someday we’ll bring our kids here,” Chris said. “And our grandkids. We’ll tell them this is where it all started. We came here, saw a lake monster, had a fight and fell in love. We figured it all out right here.”

  Just to let them know she approved, and that they’d gotten their priorities straight, Champy poked her head back up and gave them the lake monster version of a smile.

  More Annoying Than Burs in the Fur

  Traci kept her third eye wide open and it’s a good thing too; otherwise she would have most certainly never met the Bigs.

  Over the summer Traci found herself domestically challenged, so she spent forty-three intentional days, realigning her chakras, deeply exploring her Virgo nature, and generally rethinking her priorities in a tent in Point Park. Rangers on the lookout for squatters posing as campers pushed her into some of deeper, less hospitable areas of the park, where the Bigs resided – definitely the best thing that ever happened to her.

  However, no matter how blissful the summer had been, and it had been, a little over a month of soul searching revealed she was ready to get back to civilization in general and into an apartment in particular. So, she got her shit together and found two jobs, one for easy money, hotel maid, and the other to feel good about, telemarketer for Action- Now.

  Today, the first day after the first full moon, her favorite day, she braided her long hair, donned her recycled sari skirt, which provided life-changing employment to artisan women in India, and made her routine COSTCO run for a barrel of cheese puffs and case of assorted jerkies. Then she headed back to her former home, Point Park.

  It was a forty-minute drive with rough terrain near the end. If human, her car would have been old enough to legally buy booze or even pot here in Washington State, and a tune-up was long overdue, but as long as Mercury stayed out of retrograde Traci knew her sweet old Civic would hold together.

  She parked at a campsite and hiked to the big tree where she knocked and hooted. The Bigs knocked and hooted back – the Discovery Channel had gotten this part right. After a few minutes Spicy Cheetos, the female, emerged from the forest. Traci always teared up at the stunning, primordial sight.

  Traci put her COSTCO items on the ground and placed her hands in prayer position at her heart center. Traci bowed her head and said, “My mother, my sister, my daughter, my friend, I honor you and greet you, and rejoice that the Universe has brought us together once more.”

  Spicy replied, “hi,” and in one swift and clever maneuver gathered Traci into her enormous embrace and took possession of the COSTCO goods. Then they walked cockeyed arm and arm into the woods.

  Danger Don’t Enter, the male, grunted a greeting as the women entered the clearing. Little Harry, the juvenile giggled and looked away shyly. Danger hugged Traci, letting his hands slide down until he was cupping her ass and gave it a good long squeeze. It always made Traci uncomfortable, but she would have rather died than insult another’s culture and she was certain that this was their traditional greeting. It wasn’t, unless one counted Danger’s personal greeting for Traci.

  Traci so loved the company of the Bigs and they so loved the snacks she always brought. Spicy munched salty cheese puffs by the handfuls and the boys gnawed on the tough jerky sticks.

  “How are things?”

  “Okay. Too many campers though; they are catching a lot of the perch and we want the fresh perch this time of year.” Spicy complained.

  “Too many squirrels too.” Danger added. “Yes, too many squirrels,” Spicy agreed, “more annoying than burs in the fur. We found a huge stash of their acorns and spent a whole afternoon seeing if we could throw them hard and fast enough to kill the little beasts.” All three Bigs guffawed. Traci squirmed, but knew she could not judge them by her limited human values.

  “How many did we get, Danger? Four, five?” “Five. Mostly old ones, but a couple of their

  wretched offspring too. Hoot, that was fun.”

  Traci was visibly uncomfortable, so Spicy changed the subject. “I found a new book, On Walden Pond. It’s a little slow so far.”

  Traci admired how the Bigs taught themselves English, by reading park signs, labels on trash, and the occasional book they found. Spicy and Danger named themselves after favorite finds. Little Harry’s name on the other hand was a joke. It sent the Bigs into fits of laughter the first time they described little, hairy, Little Harry to Traci. They laughed even harder when they added that he would someday be big and hairy, and he would still be called “Little Harry.” Their humor, so pure and joyful, touched Traci deeply.

  The small talk was a gift as always, but Traci needed to discuss something important with them and she was not going to wimp-out this time.

  “Poo-poo-poo-poo-poo,” Little Harry chant- ed as he squatted over a log and took a dump. He laughed uproariously at the sloppy, wet, vibrating sound of excrement and air squirting out.

  As the odor wafted toward Traci, pungent, but organic, she looked at Harry with adoration, the way one looks at a puppy. He is truly one with nature, so pure, so beautiful, she thought. On a more practical level she was grateful for the pause it caused in the conversation and took advantage of it.

  “Spicy, Danger, I have something I want to talk to you about.”

  They both turned and looked at her.

  “I want to bring you back with me to civilization.” She continued on quickly, knowing if she paused, they’d object. “I know we’ve talked about it before and you weren’t interested, but things have changed now. I’ve figured everything out. I had to juggle things financially to afford the membership, but I joined a group called PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, and I know they will embrace you. It wouldn’t just be me, a whole army of like-minded people are waiting to welcome you to the world. There is so much I want to share with you, so much for you to see and do and learn.” “We’re not animals and we’re welcome just fine in the world.” Spicy said matter-of-factly.

  Oh Goddess, I’ve insulted them. “Of course, but, but, the PETA people would still help you be- cause they’re…compassionate like me. They love all their fellow creatures.”

  The look in Spicy’s eyes made it clear that she wasn’t thrilled by the word “creatures” either, but she simply said, “ No Traci, we are not interest- ed in going with you.”

  “I know you’re scared by the idea, but I would protect you.”

  “Bigs aren’t scared.”

  “Well, no, of course not, you are so powerful and empowered, but what I mean is, humans have a violent history, it’s only natural to fear human savagery.”

  “Traci, we eat baby bunnies for breakfast after we rip their heads off with our teeth. Last night we swung a live deer fawn around by the legs, bashing it into trees in order to tenderize it before we ate it. We have no problem with savagery.”

  “But still, I know you must be scared of hu- mans. I would never let them hurt you.”

  “No human has ever hurt a Bigfoot. Piss off a Bigfoot and you won’t live to tell about it. We’re not scared of humans.”

  Genuinely confused Traci asked, “What is it then? Why won’t you come with me?”

  “Traci, I…we don’t want to hurt your feelings dear, but the truth is, we have no desire to be around humans because you’re stupid.”

  Stupid? Relief passed through Traci. They didn’t understand. That’s all. This would be easy to clear up.

  “Oh, Spicy, let me explain. Humans are different than you. Different is scary and confusing, but not stupid.”

  “No Traci, let me explain to you. I know what different means and yes, humans are different, but they are also very stupid.”

  Traci could have sworn she heard Danger say something like, “and condescending,” under his breath, but that wasn’t possible.

  “Okay, I’m sensing bad energy. Can we all just join hands, breathe, and reconnect for a minute?”

  Danger snorted. Spicy held up her orange powder covered hands and shrugged. Little Harry gle
efully yelled out, “Poo-boom-boom,” emphasizing the “boom-boom” by lifting and dropping his bottom into the mess he had made. He giggled hysterically and dropped onto the dirt chanting “Poo-boom-boom…” He scooted across the ground toward Traci holding out his hand, thrusting his bum on every “boom-boom,” his chant frequently interrupted by peels of his own laughter. Right before reaching her he pulled back his hand and changed direction.

  His innocence touched Traci as it always did, but right now she needed to clear up this misunderstanding she was having with Spicy and Danger.

  “What makes you think humans are stupid?” “We don’t think, we know, but let me give

  you an example. You live in boxes.” “You mean houses?”

  “You have lots of names for them, house, apartment, condo, trailer, but they are what they are, boxes. Humans live inside the box, Bigs don’t. Even when you come here to the wilds you bring them with you – big metal ones on wheels – even you lived in a small flimsy one while you were in the forest.”

  The Bigs were smart, so it perplexed Traci that they couldn’t understand houses. Why didn’t they understand something so fundamental? Why was this all going so wrong? Traci instinctively reached for her necklace pendent, a crystal she always wore that imbued clarity and vision, but it wasn’t there. How could she not be wearing it? She wore it religiously. And then she realized. It was so simple. It was the necklace. How could she possibly be clear, how could she share a vision without her crystal? Jeez, it’s almost like Spicy was right, how stupid could she be trying to convince them to make a radical move like that without her necklace? Traci had to laugh at herself and yes, at her own stupidity.

  “Poo-boom-boom, Poo-boom-boom.”

  Spicy ticked on her fingers, as she listed more proof of human stupidity. “You confine animals for companionship and never eat them…”

  “Cats are worse than squirrels,” Danger chimed in.

  “…You pollute your own homes, you scrape the hair off your bodies, you worship your small plastic cell phones…”

 

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