Page 26 of Squatch Out!
“The way our dad explained it to us when we were kids was that it’s similar to metamorphosis. Kind of like how a caterpillar changes into a butterfly. Only much faster, and we can go back and forth.”
Olivia nods, but her brows stay tightly knit.
“That’s the closest scientific explanation,” I add, “but the easiest way to understand is to believe there is real magic in this world, and this is an example of it.”
Understanding lights up her face.
Owen pushes himself up in his chair. “Sean, before you woke up, Olivia was telling me that she needs to get back to camp.” He takes her empty mug and turns a hard look at me. “And when you get my truck, I have a list of things we need from town.”
I’m surprised he’s offering to let me make the weekly trip into town since that’s usually his thing, so he can go stare at his girl or whatever he does. Owen has been panting after Jenny eversince she moved here and took over the general store. I’ve long suspected there is something going on between them, but I have no idea what’s keeping them from sealing whatever the deal is.
“Right,” I grit out. “I gotta steal more of your clothes though.”
“Just try not to shred them this time. And fill the tank before you head back! If you’re going to keep stealing my truck, at least put gas in it when you’re done.”
By the timeI finish getting dressed, Owen has two travel mugs filled with steaming coffee waiting for me, and Olivia is nibbling on a bagel slathered in thick cream cheese. I do a double take when I see she’s wrapped in one of his thick flannel shirts, and my skin prickles at seeing her in my brother’s clothing.
She should be wrapped inmyclothes, not my brother’s.
A low growl slips past my throat before I can swallow it down. When Olivia gives me a wary look, I remind myself that she was only in a t-shirt and jeans when I took her from her tent. It shouldn’t matter whose flannel she’s wearing, as long as she’s warm. Our eyes meet for a moment, and she quickly looks down at the bagel she’s holding.
Damnit!I open my mouth to explain to her that I’m not angry, least of all at her, just as Owen strides into the room with a handwritten list for me. “If you can’t find everything, just give the list to Jenny, and she can?—”
I snatch the folded piece of paper. “I know how to fucking shop.”
With a long sigh, I reach around Olivia and open the door. “Ready to go?” I try to lighten my tone, but she keeps her head down when she nods and strides past me and down the steps.
As the house falls away behind us, she hands me one of the travel mugs and then produces a second bagel.
“Thank you.” I try to catch her eye, but she won’t look at me.
Fuck!I really screwed up.
A thick, tense silence envelops us while we walk, and I scramble to think of what to say to her. It will take about an hour to reach the trailhead, and the last thing I want is to spend the whole thing in silence. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking, so I can better tailor what I want to say to her. But things like this are never that easy.
“Olivia, I’m sor–” I begin to apologize at the same time she asks, “Can you tell me about your kind? About bigfoots?”
The thought of telling her even more about my kind, and then watching her walk away twists my guts. But she already knows most of it anyway, so she might as well know it all. Besides, I’d rather she have the correct information, rather than making up her own assumptions.
“Well, for one thing, we don’t call ourselves bigfoots. Or bigfeet or any other kind of big…” I try to keep my words lighthearted, but she ducks her head again.
“Sorry, is it sasquatch, then?”
“That’s closer.” I can’t stop staring at her while we walk. I wish she would look up at me. My fingers twitch, wanting to curl my much larger hand around hers. “We’re known assasqu’etsthroughout most of North America. It’s a Salish word that meanshairy man.Of course, different tribes and cultures have their own names and variations. Mostly we just call ourselves squatch.”
“And where do they—do you—come from?” Her voice is soft, and when she finally looks up at me, her expression is filled with curiosity.
“We didn’t come from anywhere,” I say softly. “We’ve been here from the beginning. In the early times, it was more accepted that some of us weredifferent. Now,” I let out a sigh,” it’s much harder. There are more people. The stories aren’t passed down like they used to be. Science tries to explain everything and disregards what it can’t as fiction.”
Silence falls over us again as she considers this. This time, the quiet that descends around us is filled with the sounds of birds and wildlife and the wind rustling through the trees. It’s no longer heavy with the worry that I felt a few minutes ago, although I still find myself wondering if she can be trusted. So far, she hasn’t given me a reason to distrust her, but…what if she tells someone else, and they go public?
Then there will be a bit of press, and it will eventually go away. Just like it always does.
Iwantto trust her, but I don’tknowher.
A voice in the back of my mind scoffs.Thenget to know her!
No doubt Olivia would think I’m crazy if she could hear the way I’m arguing with myself. I start to laugh, and then try to stifle it, which turns into a snort, and she looks at me curiously.
