Prose Header


Looking for Bigfoot

by Douglas Young

Table of Contents
Table of Contents
parts 1, 2, 3

conclusion


“Set Mr. Bigfoot straight?” Zillah greeted him in the vegetable garden as he emerged from the woods.

“No, Mr. Big Scaredy Cat wouldn’t even show hisself,” he replied with some embarrassment as he looked at the ground.

“I’m proud of you facing your fear,” she replied with a smile. “It takes a mighty big man to do what you did today, and alone too. Color me plenty impressed.”

“Thanks for being so kind, but I don’t know if I would have even gone without General Hill by my side.” He smiled before quickly changing the subject.

Mr. DuBose made it a ritual to walk through the mountain woods each morning with A.P. Hill — and his pistol — in tow. He explored not just the trail where he had been so scared but every path he knew of in the mountains. Never did he experience anything unusual. He became much more relaxed and, after a few days — and to Zillah’s relief — stopped taking the pistol. Soon he let his wife join him with A.P. Hill still tagging along and more often racing ahead of them, though he would not consent to her hitting any trails without him, at least not yet.

When asked if she thought his mental acuity was in decline, she fiercely denied it and reiterated that children or teenagers may have just been messing with him that frightening day in the forest. Still, he began helping her fill out an old book of crossword puzzles and opened his college Spanish textbook for the first time in decades.

* * *

About a week after “the incident in the woods” and having carefully hiked every trail within miles many times over, Dudley became increasingly convinced he had suffered some kind of mental breakdown that memorable morning. Despite Zillah’s emphatically repeated assurances to the contrary, he scheduled an appointment with Doc Adams months ahead of his annual physical exam. He even broached with his wife the possibility of going to the city to see a psychiatrist since, no matter how ridiculous his scary encounter now struck him, he could not shake how vividly real its memory still felt.

Zillah could tell how much the whole experience preyed upon him and pleaded with him to stop worrying. It had startled her when he began having nightmares and even started to walk in his sleep. As much as she tried to comfort and reassure him that he was completely fine, she also sensed he suspected she was coddling him.

Nine days after “the incident,” Dudley walked in the woods alone since A.P. Hill was visiting the grandchildren. He no longer had any fear of the woods, only of what might be happening to his mind. When Zillah asked to join him, he said he might more likely get some closure by going alone along the same route that spooked him. So she only walked with him to the edge of the backyard where she kissed him goodbye to work in the vegetable garden.

He took the same path followed on that fateful morning a week before and noticed how many fewer leaves were left on the trees and how much louder the dried leaves on the forest floor now crunched since they increasingly carpeted the ground. It was another sunny day, and he was grateful for how attractive everything remained, past the fall’s prime to be sure, but still well worth admiring.

Sick of replaying painful memories, as well as scaring himself about his mental status one minute and reassuring himself the next, Dudley just tried to appreciate all the Good Lord’s wonderful creation before him. He no longer jumped at sounds, nor carefully scanned his surroundings. Instead, he sought to relish how pleasant the whole environment was and how very blessed he and the wife were. Indeed, what a lucky man I am in so many ways, he thought. Why am I whipping myself into a fit over nothing? So I had a truly terrifying experience. And? It’s over. Nothing bad happened. I’m fine.

Listen to Zillah, he resolved She wouldn’t lie to me and she knows me better than anyone. Why am I so set on tarnishing our golden years over absolutely nothing? Getting ever more bent out of shape about this is worrying not just me but her too. It ain’t fair to either of us. Maybe I’ve just got too much free time to fret, and Zillah’s right that I should get more involved at church and volunteer and just move on. What need is there to see Doc Adams about this? How awkward for both of us. I should cancel the appointment.

Leaves crunched about twenty feet from him. When he looked, he saw nothing unusual and did not even look around but instead just walked ahead.

Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a rock hitting a tree. His head jerked sharply in its direction and froze. Looking around, all he saw were trees, downed limbs, fallen leaves, and some moss. Refusing to give into fear and determined to discover who or what was harassing him, he stood still. The forest was so thick that visibility was limited, but he surprised himself that he was not more scared. This time there was more anger.You can’t hurt me unless I let you, he told himself. You’re either just a figment of my mind or someone or something playing with me. Well, I’m not going to let you humiliate me again. I’m done running away, fellow. Do what you will, but I’m doing my own thing and you ain’t polluting my life no more.

After a few minutes of standing still and hearing only an occasional bird, he started walking again, convinced that was the only way to invite another thrown rock. The ball’s in your corner, big boy, he mused. Your turn. I ain’t scared of you and you ain’t getting in my head again.

He walked slowly and methodically looked all around. Several branches and rocks stood out on the ground, but he refused to pick any up. Just when he began to wonder if no more rocks would be thrown, several hit the ground and a tree to his left. Though he jumped, this time he could tell the direction from which they came, as well as hear some leaves crunch in the distance. With his adrenaline pumping, he grabbed a good-sized stick and ran toward the sound, determined to confront whoever or whatever was taunting him.

This thing ends here. Right now, he resolved. Not feeling nearly as frightened was exhilarating and liberated him to focus completely on finding the culprit. Some rocks sailed through the air to his right, but he refused to be distracted and quickened his pace.

He stopped to catch his breath and survey the trees ahead. There was only one large enough for someone to hide behind. It was a very big oak that towered over the rest. Gripping the stick, he walked deliberately toward it. As he got closer, for a split second he saw something black move behind it.

Startled, and now certain some creature stood on the other side of the tree, he stopped, gripped the stick tighter, and said a prayer. After a minute, he slowly resumed walking toward the tree. A few feet from it, he noticed he was sweating and his heart was pounding harder than he could ever recall, but he would not leave without confronting his nemesis. Pausing a few seconds, he then lunged past the tree and turned to see what was behind it.

Zillah DuBose jumped and shouted. Dudley dropped the stick and almost fell. She was wearing a black jacket, black pants, and black tennis shoes. Neither said anything and looked at the other with an expression neither had ever seen. Dudley blinked as his mind raced and his heart continued to pound. He felt a strange mix of fear and confusion heretofore unknown to him.

Zillah was crying with her hands to her face looking at him with a pleading expression. He found it difficult to say anything and instead merely stared at her. “This was all your doings?” he finally asked between deep breaths.

Unable to talk, she nodded tearfully.

“And that other time too?” He looked at her incredulously.

Between sobs, she nodded again. For the first time, he looked away. The woods had never appeared more harmless, but a hollow aura now haunted them. He looked at the ground and saw a pile of rocks at his wife’s feet. He slowly lifted his gaze to her.

“I’m so, so, so sorry, Dudley,” she managed to get out as she wiped her face. “It’s all my fault, and I feel terrible about it, as I should.” He saw she was shaking and felt very sorry for her, but his body was firmly planted where it stood.

“It’s not an excuse,” she said between sobs. “To have upset you so is inexcusable, I know. But I just felt I was losing you, Dudley. You were becoming so bored, ever more distant, and just sad. Honey, I was scared you were falling into some kind of depression, and when I couldn’t get you to get out more and do things and see folks, I seized on the idea of at least getting you to go out in the woods.”

She caught her breath between more sobs. “I hoped that maybe if you got convinced there was a ‘Bigfoot’ out there that that would compel you to keep going and maybe get closer to your neighbors searching for it. But I never meant to frighten you, Dudley, and then, Lord knows, I never meant for you to even question your own sanity.

“So, when I knew you weren’t armed and A.P. Hill was away, I figured this would be an ideal time to try to convince you that you weren’t losing your mind, that this thing is really real. But I never should have started the whole lie in the first place, and I feel plum terrible, as I should. I hope you can forgive me, love, but I totally understand if you can’t. I’m sorry, Dudley. Whatever it means to you, I do love you, babe. More than anything. Please at least know that.”

As she began to cry again, his heart ached for her. Though stunned and reeling, her pain was undeniable and deep, and in over forty years of marriage, he was unaware of her ever having intentionally hurt or lied to him. He no longer felt any fear but instead a strange emptiness. Part of him thought he should be angry at her, and he was definitely hurt. But another part of him desperately sought to believe she had acted with only good intentions and suffered perhaps even much more than he had over the last nine days.

Regardless of who was right or wrong or what was the right thing to do, he simply reached out his arms and, after a look of shock, she raced into them and quietly wept. They held each other for a long time without words. He stroked her hair as he always had whenever she cried, and she clung to him tightly. When the flow of tears ceased, they continued their embrace, for neither wanted to be the first to speak. Feeling it was his turn, he finally did.

“Who knew ‘Bigfoot’ was such a big crybaby,” he observed with the slightest smile.

She burst out with a laugh that was more immense relief than a response to humor, and he mustered a faint smile. It comforted him to see her face transformed from a wreck of tears and tension into a bona fide smile. He thought of the pretty girl he had courted in college and felt so lucky to marry. He still did. She kissed him on the cheek and they hugged again. After a minute they let go, and he breathed a long, full sigh. He looked at her with a tired smile, and she put her hand on his shoulder.

He reached for her hand, she eagerly gave it, and they began walking together toward home. The only sounds they heard were the dried leaves crunching underfoot and her blowing her nose with her free hand. Both stared at the ground in front of them.

A rock bounced off a tree ten feet to the left of them and fell into the leaves. Both looked toward the noise and then locked eyes on each other.


Copyright © 2023 by Douglas Young

Proceed to Challenge 1035...

Home Page