Sasquatches In The Mist

"Lou? Phone's for you."

"Thanks, Zach." I set down a stack of books on Pennsylvania hauntings, and picked up my line. "Hi, can I help you?"

"Hi, I was wondering if you have a book about Bigfoot sightings in Clinton County."

It was an older voice, female. I said,"Specifically Clinton County?"

"Well, yes. I have a brother who moved to West Virginia. He's really interested in that, and I was hoping to send him a book about where Bigfoot has been sighted around here."

"Well, that's pretty specific, ma'am," I said. "We have plenty of books about Bigfoot, and some on Pennsylvania, but nothing I'm aware of that's localized to Clinton County."

"Oh....I was hoping you might have written one."

"Haven't gotten to that yet," I said. "I have done a few articles. If you'd like to stop by, I can print off a few for you."

"I can do that," she said. "I'll be there in an hour."

I sat down at my desk and opened my e-mail. It was packed---I deleted all the junk mail, and then was left with three messages forwarding me a Bigfoot sighting not too far away. Several people had considered that worthy of notifying me. Apparently when Bigfoot comes up in conversation, I'm the guy who comes to mind.

This happens. Someone writes about a local ghost, a monster, a buried treasure---And my network of friends all have to send it to me. It's one way I stay informed on these things.

I did a search on myself---Yeah, I google myself, get over it---And found a couple of my old articles about Bigfoot. I printed them off.

"Anything new and interesting, Lou?" Zach asked as I walked to the desk.

I shrugged, picking up my printouts. "Bigfoot sighting. The usual."

A woman stopped at the desk. She was wearing a mask with panda bears on it.

"I'm looking for Lou?"

"That'd be me," I said.

"I called," she said. "About the Bigfoot articles."

"Oh, yes. Here you go." I handed her the articles. "Hope this helps."

"I was hoping there was a book that I could send him," she said. "He's really interested."

"Well, that's a fairly narrow topic, ma'am," I said. "I mean, there are Bigfoot books, and books about Clinton County in general. But I can't think of anything that combines both."

"Oh. Do you have nay Bigfoot ones for sale?"
"Not here, no. But you might want to look into 'Weird Pennsylvania'. That's a pretty good one about Bigfoot in a lot of areas."

"But not Clinton County."

"Not specifically, no."

"Well, I don't believe in this, but he does."

"You never know," I said. "Panda bears were considered mythical, until a live one was captured."

She looked at me in surprise. "Really? I love pandas!"

"I noticed the mask. Yeah, early explorers to Asia came back with stories of black and white bears, and they were told there was no such thing. They were considered a myth. Until the first one was captured. Now we know them to be actual animals. So don't discount Bigfoot, offhand---New species are discovered every day."

I parked my bike in the garage---New bike, a jet black thing with blue and green trim, and I was being careful with it. Carrying the grocery bags, I walked up to the haunted house. You get used to it when the haunted house is yours.

I walked in the back door. A little elderly Schnauzer was lying on the kitchen floor, crying because he couldn't stand up. I set the bags on the counter.

"Oh, Kasper," I said. I knelt down and picked him up. He nestled his head into my shoulder. 

Almost three years ago, we'd taken in two sweet little senior Schnauzers who'd needed homes. Mickey and Kasper. Mickey had died from cancer a year ago, and Kasper was getting older and older. I'd been resisting thinking too much about that. More and more, he'd been unable to stand and walk.

I laid him down in his bed. "Here you go, little guy. Take a nap. I love you, little buddy."

He was still lying on the bed the next morning. His breathing was shallow, and he was barely moving. I was glad Paul wasn't awake to see this. I sat down on the couch and looked at him.

"I love you, Kasper," I whispered. "I've always loved you. Ever since we got you, you've been a good dog." I started to cry. "We're gonna take you to the vet, and he's going to make it so you're not hurting anymore, okay? You'll be happy and playing with Mickey soon. I love you, Kasper. I love you. You've been a good dog."

That night, Kasper was gone.

"Daddy?" Paul looked around the corner of the doorway. "I can't sleep. Can I sit with you?"

"Five minutes," I said. "Then back to bed." Paul hates to sleep. Anti-bedtime is his only actual strong political position. We go through this practically every night.

He crawled into my lap. "I miss Kasper."

"I miss him, too," I said. "I miss the little guy a lot."

He began to cry. "All I want is for Mickey and Kasper to still be here."

It doesn't sound like much when you put it that way, does it? I hugged him. "I know, little man. Me, too. But they knew we loved them. And maybe they're playing together now."

He cried for a little while, and I held him.

"Are you working tomorrow, Daddy?"

"No, I'm off tomorrow," I said. "I'll have all day to spend with you."

"Can we do something fun?"

"Sure," I said. "Maybe a hike?"

"I love hikes."

"Well, about three different people have sent me an article about Bigfoot down in Bald Eagle State Park."

"Where's Bald Eagle State Park?"

"Remember when we went to that firefly program? That's where."

"Okay," he said. "Let's look for Bigfoot."

"Tomorrow," I said. "Right now, it's time for bed."

"Where was this Bigfoot sighting?" my wife asked as we drove through Bald Eagle State Park.

"Hard to tell," I said. "I'm a little dubious on the reliability of it, in all honesty. The witness mentioned Pine Creek, which isn't even in the same county. But I know he was camping in Bald Eagle State Park, and got up to go to the bathroom. He said he saw the Bigfoot walking near the creek that night."

"This is really remote," said Michelle, looking around.

"We oughta camp here sometime."

"I don't know," said Michelle. "What about bears?"

"Bears are a concern anytime you camp anywhere. The trick is knowing what to do."

"Well, then, you need to teach us what to do."

"Paul?" I said. "What do you do with a wild animal?"

"Lift me up," said Paul. "And pick up your jacket so you look big."

'There you go," I said. 

"There's restrooms up here," said Michelle. "Should we park there?"

"As good as anyplace, I suppose," I said.

We got out of the car. The weather had gotten colder, and I was wearing my black Bigfoot Saw Me But Nobody Believes Him shirt and my lack leather jacket. I said,"All living things need water. We'll walk down toward the lake. There's a path over here that's not listed on the map."

Paul looked at the sign. "Log....Slide....Trail," he read carefully.

He started walking down the trail. Michelle said,"It is safe to let him run ahead like that?"

"He's wearing a Rainbow Dash jacket and pink tights," I said. "Kid dresses for visibility. He's also loud as hell pretty much constantly. We're not gonna lose him."

We walked down the trail. I said,"Look at all this rocky terrain. It's not a surprise I don't hear more reports of footprints out here."

"I heard a noise, Daddy," said Paul. 

"What did it sound like?"

"Sort of like arrrrrrrrooooooo."

"Well, that does sound like Bigfoot, allright. And what does the Loch Ness Monster say?"

"Three-fifty."

I stopped on the hill and looked into the woods. Michelle said,"What is it?"

"Probably nothing." There were broken branches propped up against a tree in a more or less conical fashion. "I've heard reports of Bigfoot shelters, where people find sticks propped up in the woods. Almost certainly campers or hikers, but it doesn't hurt to check."

I took a couple of photos of the branches, clearly deliberately placed against the tree. I walked around the tree, examining the ends of the branches. 

"What are you looking for?" Michelle asked.

"Well, any indicators," I said. "These branches weren't sawed off, they were snapped off. Which doesn't prove anything, actually. Obviously it was done by someone without access to saws, but that doesn't rule out a camper up here."

"But nothing says it wasn't Bigfoot," said Michelle.

"No," I said. "That's true. Nothing rules it out."

"Daddy? I can't sleep."

Again. It was every night lately. Paul was having a hard time dealing with the loss, which is understandable when you're six. I said,"Come here, sit down a minute."

He curled up with me on the couch. He said,"I wrote this."

He handed me a torn piece of paper. On it, he'd scrawled I LOVE YOU TOO MUCK MICKEY AND KASPER.

"Oh, buddy." I hugged him. "You can't love someone too much. There's no limit. We loved Mickey and Kasper, and we made them happy to live here. We're going to miss them, but it was good to have had them here. I'm sad, too....But things will get better again."

"Daddy? Can I sit here with you for a while?"

I nodded. 
"For a while, little guy. Sure."