Looking for Bigfoot
by Douglas Young
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Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
It felt a little cooler as the woods got extra thick, and this particular path up the mountain above some peach trees was not as well traveled as the others. He wished A.P. Hill were with him and, especially, Zillah to enjoy the experience even more.
That was when he heard a rustle of leaves he did not make. He turned to his right but saw only trees and loads of dried leaves starting to blanket the forest floor.
Carrying on, he tried coming up with an agenda to fill up the rest of the day when he heard leaves crunch to his left. This time he stopped with a slight start to look left. Again, he saw nothing unusual and heard nothing more. Standing still, he slowly turned to look in every direction but saw only lots of orange, red, and yellow leaves, shriveled brown ones on the ground, fallen limbs, bushes, grass, and sunbeams filtering through the bright leafy roof above.
When he resumed walking, his pace was slower to focus on whatever he could hear. After a very short time, he noticed leaves rustling again to his left. This time he thought he may have also heard the thud of a rock. He stopped and whirled in the direction of the sound but again saw nothing strange. Standing still for a spell, slowing looking back and forth and all around, he finally noticed some birds chirping, but nothing more.
Not ten seconds after he resumed walking, he heard the distinct sound of a rock hitting a tree to his left. Indeed, he turned so fast that he saw a few leaves jump as the rock bounced off the ground. Dudley immediately looked all around.
Hesitating, at last he shouted, “Who’s there? You’re not the least bit cute or funny. No one’s amused. So come out now.... I promise I won’t hurt you.”
The woods were so still he thought he might even hear the wind. Suddenly he recalled the recent local article about Bigfoot sightings. Though he would not acknowledge to Zillah that he had read it, he remembered the story reported that witnesses claimed the huge, hairy giant liked to play with folks walking in the woods by throwing rocks near them, something reiterated by Benjamin Bunn. Though ashamed to admit, Mr. DuBose now regretted not bringing his pistol. How he wished A.P. Hill were with him, too.
He resumed walking. As soon as he realized how fast he had quickened his pace, the unmistakable sound of another rock hitting a tree was heard. Now certain he was being toyed with, Dudley quickly turned this way and that. He also looked for a large stick or rock and realized he was sweating. For the first time in years, he felt the distinct sensation of butterflies fluttering in his stomach as his chest tightened. Relieved to find a big stick, he grabbed it and began to run.
The sound of crunching leaves got much louder and he felt his heart beat faster. He guesstimated how much longer it would take to get home and wished he were a lot younger. Then he heard a rock bounce off a nearby tree as other rocks tumbled among the leaves on the ground.
With a speed that startled him, he swung the stick all around before almost falling and then running as fast as he could up the trail. Frequently turning left and right, every few seconds he glanced behind him as well. All he heard was his own loud crunching of leaves as he gripped the stick tightly.
After several minutes, he stopped to catch his breath, being careful to look and listen in every direction. Relieved to detect nothing, he resumed his journey. Too exhausted to run anymore, he walked as fast as his body permitted and comforted himself that he was almost home.
When he at last could make out the clearing that was his backyard, he finally dropped the stick to grab his knees and gasp for breath. But he was careful to look and listen behind him once more before picking up his weapon and soon emerging from the trees to be greeted by his and Zillah’s vegetable patch. For the first time in quite a while, he took special notice of the scarecrow and moved it to another part of the garden in hopes the crows would more readily believe it was alive.
What to tell Zillah? He mused seeing her car in the driveway. Did he confide what happened and confess how scared he was? There was no way he could hide his sweat stains and exhaustion. He threw the big stick on the ground before picking it up to lean against the scarecrow. Instead of making up a fib, he decided he would tell his wife everything. Sure, she would likely get a belly laugh out of it and he would have to endure joking reminders of it for the rest of his life, but he knew she would fully support him and never tell a soul if anyone asked her.
After taking a deep breath, he wiped his feet on the backdoor mat and went in the house where A.P. Hill ran to him with joy. Dudley felt extra good when the dog jumped on him, and this time even let him lick his face. The cold water from the refrigerator tasted awesome, and Mr. DuBose surprised himself by how much he drank. After refilling his water bottle and putting it back, he sat at the kitchen table and petted his dog’s head lying in his lap. He also noticed he could no longer feel his heartbeat.
After sitting a good while, trying to fathom what had just happened, he looked up to see Zillah walk through the front door, take off her flower garden gloves, and come into the kitchen with a smile that vanished upon seeing her husband. Stopping mid-stride, her eyes widened.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “You’re sweating, Dudley. You look exhausted. Are you all right? You got a fever?” She immediately put one hand on his head and the other on his shoulder. His silence alarmed her as she sat down and took his hand.
“I’m okay, babe.” he assured her. “Honest, and I’ve certainly made up for my recent lack of exercise. In fact, I ’spect I did enough walking — and running — this morning to last me the better part of a week.” Seeing her wrinkle her brow and open her mouth slightly, he relayed the whole story, ready for her to burst out laughing and wag her finger at him at any moment.
But Mrs. DuBose did not. Instead, she held his hand in both of hers and petted it, listening patiently, and never interrupted. When he finished, she hugged and held him a long time.
“Come on.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’m stunned you haven’t said it yet. ‘My, my. Just look who’s now scared of Bigfoot.’”
“No, no, darling,” his wife stated firmly. “I promise never to make fun of you about this. You’ve been through a mighty frightening experience and I’m so, so sorry, my love. I’m also right proud of my man for handling this so well.”
“Oh, yeah. Your man runs from danger real well, even when he can’t even see it,” he confessed with a sigh.
“Nonsense. You grabbed a big stick, warned whoever or whatever was throwing rocks, and did the responsible thing by getting out of there as fast as possible, especially since you were unarmed and didn’t have A.P. Hill with you. And I’m real sorry to have pushed you so hard to walk today.”
She hugged, kissed, and held him. He was very grateful and relieved to have such a supportive spouse. They agreed not to tell anyone about the matter, at least not yet, and he pronounced how he would only return to the woods with the pistol and the dog.
They did not talk about the walk in the woods for the rest of the day, and Zillah was relieved to see Dudley spending hours reading at the computer instead of watching TV. Walking by him, she saw he was researching articles on Bigfoot sightings in the area. She smiled at how much better his posture was and how much more alert he seemed.
* * *
The next morning, after working in the vegetable garden and doing other yard chores before it got too warm, Dudley came back in the house to announce he was returning to the forest. This time Zillah saw him put on his holster and slip the pistol in it.
“You really think that’s necessary?” she asked.
He looked at her somewhat surprised. “Yes, ma’am. At least for peace of mind.”
“You don’t think A.P. Hill could provide that?” she asked.
“Oh, he’s coming too, but I’ll feel plenty better knowing I’m packing.”
“Can I come?”
“No, ma’am. I appreciate your wanting to join me, babe, but I don’t want you anywhere in those woods just yet, at least not till I find out who — or what — was messing with me yesterday.”
“Why not ask Ben Bunn or Ollie Semmes or somebody to go with you? Ben and Ollie are both such fine fellows. They would totally support you, and they’d be just as happy as they could be to go with you too. You ought to spend more time with them anyway, Dudley. It’d be good for you, dear.”
“I appreciate your concern, babe, but I’m not entirely ready to tell anybody else ’bout yesterday. I’d just like to... be a whole lot more sure as to exactly what I encountered before going public with this thing.”
“Well, just please don’t dare shoot anybody.” she pleaded. “You know, it could have just been someone pulling a prank on you, Dudley.”
“Exactly.” He nodded. “I won’t fire unless I see the whites of Bigfoot’s eyes right on top of me.” They laughed and hugged.
Zillah was delighted he had a lot more pep in his step as he went outside, and A.P. Hill was thrilled to be at his side. Dudley decided to follow the previous day’s route and completely focus on his surroundings. When his dog got impatient with the slow pace, he would race ahead before soon returning. It was another beautiful day, and the canopy of colorful tree leaves looked like stained glass lit by the mid-morning sun.
As they got closer to where Dudley had been spooked, he felt his heart beat faster and a growing urge to urinate. He also noted that he was walking ever slower, methodically scanning his entire horizon. The sound of the dried leaves crunching beneath him seemed louder, as did the tinnitus ringing in his ears. When A.P. Hill barked, Dudley turned with a jolt only to find the dog running toward him wagging his tail.
But as the minutes quietly ticked by, Dudley began to doubt whether he had even had any company in the woods the previous day after all. Maybe age was starting to catch up with him. Indeed, perhaps he was even in the early stages of dementia. Could that be why Zillah did not make fun of him or seem worried about his returning to the woods? In fact, she appeared far more concerned about what he might do with the gun. Had her sympathetic understanding the day before actually been akin to comforting a confused child? He cringed. Face it, he thought. Could the preceding day’s experience have been entirely in my mind? That frightened him far more than any giant in the forest who, upon reflection, seemed more interested in just having fun with an old man than doing him any harm.
Staring at the ground as he was inclined when lost in thought, Mr. DuBose heard a rustling of leaves to his right and immediately turned to look. Seeing him jump, A.P. Hill barked and ran toward the sound. Before he got far, a squirrel leaped from the leaves up the nearest tree. The dog’s front paws scratched the tree while he barked excitedly. Dudley caught himself smiling.
“Come on, old boy. He’s not who we’re after.” He clapped and whistled and the dog returned. They continued walking, and the woods struck the older man as exceptionally placid while the fear of losing his mental faculties increasingly dwarfed any dread of facing “Bigfoot.” Maybe he should frankly ask Zillah if she had noticed any cognitive deterioration of late. Was his brain getting soft in retirement with too much free time and not enough stimulation? Perhaps he should help Zillah with the newspaper’s crossword puzzle or study a foreign language.
They reached the big clearing where A.P. Hill loved to race in circles and soon they walked around Lake T.R.R. Cobb. Seeing more bass and many bream swim near the shore at his favorite fishing spot made Dudley regret he had not brought his fishing gear. Next time, he resolved. Tomorrow.
On the final leg home, he caught his mind drifting and realized he was not being remotely diligent in his search for any elusive creatures. What most struck him was how lovely the forest looked. The idea of some hairy monster infesting such an idyllic setting suddenly seemed absurd. It was then that he picked up a small stick and threw it for his dog to fetch. A.P. Hill was elated and raced after it.
Shortly before reaching home, Dudley heard something to his left. But when he turned to see, a small bird could be seen pecking the ground amidst the leaves. He chuckled and stopped looking around the rest of the way home. Now he felt humiliated for having given his wife such a frank and full account of what happened yesterday or of what he thought happened. There was no need to alarm her. He should have just manned up and told her he got hot climbing up the mountain after such an extra-long walk. Now he could never erase her knowing how scared he was, and likely over nothing. Would she think less of him as a man and her protector? He resolved to do all he could to stay as strong as possible, physically and, especially, mentally.
Copyright © 2023 by Douglas Young
