Bigfoot Believer Read online

  “Okay, yeah. You had me at shower, but I’ve got a soft spot for Call of Duty, and haven’t played in ages.”

  “You want to play?” Nick’s brows went up in interest. “I’ve got an extra set-up, and Jamal might play if he’s home.”

  “You know all the right things to say, huh?” Okie asked with a faint smile as he stood up.

  Nick stood and stuffed his phone in his pocket before grabbing their trash. “Let’s go. You and Rajah can follow me in your truck.”

  As they left the Saloon, Nick couldn’t help but think he’d made a friend.

  CHAPTER THREE

  That night was...fun. Nick was the kind of guy who had a hard time opening up to other people. After years in Riston, he had finally found a group of roommates whom he meshed with. He and Reggie and Jamal had had a lot of fun over the years, and just because Reggie was married now didn't mean it had stopped. But regardless, Nick wasn't the type of guy to go hang out at bars, or even go to trivia at the ranch on Thursday nights. Being around other people—particularly large groups—had always made him nervous, so it was hard for him to make friends.

  That said, Okie was different. As soon as they walked in, it seemed like Okie had always been a friend. Even Rajah, a giant of an orange cat, who dwarfed Okie when the kid carried him inside, seemed at home. He picked his way—with a surprising delicacy—under the dining room table, through the kitchen, and made himself at home on the back of the couch.

  The tour started and ended in the third bedroom, Nick's office. Okie’s eyes got wide when he saw Nick's computer setup, and he started asking all the right questions. They talked processor speeds and video cards and liquid- versus air-cooling for forty-five minutes, until Nick offered to show the kid how the latest Call of Duty looked on the dual monitors, and any effort at continuing the tour was lost.

  They played for two hours, with Okie using his backup computer, and Nick had to admit the kid wasn't bad. He obviously didn't have as many hours logged—living out of a vehicle with no WiFi would explain that—but he had good instincts and reflexes.

  And in the time they played, in the time they talked about computers, Okie came alive. He didn't seem nearly as nervous or skittish about interacting with Nick as he had before. He stared at the computer screen with rapt attention, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed with excitement. Nick had glanced over at him a few times and couldn't help but smile at the kid’s enthusiasm for something Nick enjoyed too.

  In between games, Nick placed a pizza order online, and it arrived just about the same time Jamal did. The three of them sat down for dinner, and Okie was just as animated as he’d been while playing the video game. It was kinda cool to see him open up to Jamal.

  For his part, Jamal treated the kid with all the warmth and kindness he usually reserved for his furry animals, asking questions gently, without pressure.

  “Is ‘Okie’ short for something? I’ve never heard it before.”

  Jamal asked the question while they all sat around in the living room after dinner, groaning about how full they were. Rajah was curled up on his lap, and Nick was sure the monster cat must be cutting off his friend’s circulation. While Okie had only had two slices of pizza—the kid needed to eat more!—the cat had eaten three, much to Jamal’s amusement.

  Okie watched the other man stroke the cat’s head, and a slight flush crept up his cheeks. Not for the first time, Nick thought the kid must be warm to still be wearing that sweatshirt and toque inside the apartment, but different strokes for different folks.

  “It’s a nickname.” The kid cleared his throat, his attention still on Rajah. “When I was little, I didn’t say much, and one of my foster brothers used to tease me because I said ‘okie-dokie’ instead of ‘yes’. The nickname stuck.”

  “You were in foster care?” Nick asked, the same time Jamal asked, “What’s your real name?”

  Okie’s eyes grew wide as he looked between them, then he dropped his gaze to the floor, the flush climbing all the way up now. He was embarrassed, that much was obvious, and Nick hoped they hadn’t just accidentally sent him back to the same nervous place he’d been earlier at Sadie’s.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he hurried to assure the kid. “You don’t have to talk about it.” He lunged for the remote. “Who’s up for a movie? The latest Jack Raven is on Watch Instantly, finally.”

  Okie peeked up, wary interest in his eyes. “I like Jack Raven,” he said quietly.

  Picking up on Nick’s attempts to put the kid at ease, Jamal stood quickly. “I’ll make popcorn!”

  “I thought you said you were stuffed?” Nick called after his friend.

  “There’s always room for popcorn with a movie!” Jamal hollered from the kitchen.

  He was right.

  The three of them were up past Nick’s usual bedtime, but it was worth it to see Okie relax so fully. The kid’s huge yawns were contagious, and Nick was pleased he’d been able to talk Okie into staying.

  “Well,” Jamal said with a yawn. “I’m hitting the hay. Night!”

  Nick lifted his glass in a salute, then nodded to Okie. “I saw the duffel you brought in with that giant cat. Those your clothes?”

  The kid squinted and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Is that okay?”

  “Yep.” Nick tried to keep his voice calm, so he didn’t spook his young house guest. “I was just going to suggest you wear something of mine tonight, and I’ll throw your stuff in the wash. I can switch them tomorrow before my run, and everything will be dry after your shower.”

  Okie had glanced up, surprise on his face, but then he sighed quietly. “That’s really nice of you.”

  Shrugging, Nick said, “We’ve all been in tough spots before. I just want to help.”

  “Thanks, Nick.”

  It was the first time Okie had said his name, and it made Nick feel…good. Like he’d done something right.

  “Come on. Let’s get those clothes and head to bed.”

  “Okie-dokie.”

  They both smiled.

  Nick passed the kid a pair of plaid pajama pants and a black tank through the door to the office, and bundled all of his clothes into the washer. Then he made sure the cat had water, and turned off all the lights.

  The next morning, he was up before everyone else, which was no surprise. He started the coffee, switched Okie’s laundry, and headed out for his morning run. When he returned, Jamal’s car was already gone—the other man often grabbed breakfast in the diner at the ranch—and the shower was running. The kid must be in there.

  Nick made his usual breakfast, but doubled the bacon this time in case Okie wanted some. Then—the shower had turned off, but the kid wasn’t out yet—he went ahead and made another three strips for Rajah. The cat had strutted regally into the kitchen once the bacon started popping, and was now twining around Nick’s legs. It was a miracle Nick was still upright, with as large as the animal was.

  He was just pulling the last slices off the stove when he heard the bathroom door open, and turned to ask, “Are you hungr—“

  The spatula dropped, and he had to fumble to catch it before it hit the floor. He blinked rapidly, then looked back at the bathroom door to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

  He wasn’t.

  There was Okie, dressed in Nick’s pajama bottoms and that black muscle tank, staring back at him with wide-open, scared hazel eyes, obviously not expecting him to be home from his run. And as Nick’s incredulous gaze traveled from the still-damp auburn tendrils caressing the soft cheeks, to the slim shoulders, the curve of the hips, and the—the—the rest, he felt his mouth drop open.

  She was the prettiest darn boy Nick had ever seen.

  A mistake. A mistake. A mistake.

  No matter how nice Nick had been to her—Nice Nick, her brain repeated—she shouldn’t have gotten so friendly with him. She hadn’t meant for him to think she was a boy, but she also hadn’t tried too hard to fix the assumption. He’d been nic
e to her, had been friendly, and the whole time she’d known they could never be friends, not with the secret she was keeping, but still, she wanted a friend, a friend like him. A nice friend.

  Breathe, Okie, she reminded herself.

  She forced herself to calm down, to breathe deeply the way one of her foster mothers had taught her years ago. It was a good way to keep herself focused when her brain wanted to run off in a million directions. Deep breaths reminded her of that feeling she got while painting; calm, collected. Focused.

  “Okie?”

  The way Nick winced after he’d choked out her name told her he knew how silly he sounded. But not nearly as silly as she felt, standing there in his house, wearing his clothes. She might as well be naked, with the way he was looking at her.

  Oh, not that way—Nick was too nice to look at her that way—but he was looking at her as if he could guess all her secrets, all her faults, if she’d let him get close enough. In the hours she’d spent with him last night—Hours in which he thought you were a boy! she reminded herself—she’d opened up to him, felt freer than she had felt with anyone in a long time.

  It was probably the Call of Duty and that sweet dual-monitor set-up he’d shared.

  Or maybe it was the way he’d seemed to understand she wasn’t like other people, and didn’t mind. He hadn’t pressured her into talking, hadn’t bugged her…he’d just shared a hobby they’d both enjoyed, and it had been fun.

  But not anymore.

  She couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t bear to see his shock and anger. So she lowered her head and stumbled towards the laundry nook, where she stuffed her still-warm clothes into her duffel that sat there. Then, still without looking at Nick—who was now feeding Rajah something out of the frying pan—she ducked back into his office where she’d slept last night.

  It had been nice to stretch out in a real bed—nice Nick, nice Nick—and not have to worry about someone knocking on her truck window at three a.m. and telling her to move on. So she made the bed as well as she could, and dressed in her favorite jeans and T-shirt once more. As she pulled her Boise sweatshirt on over her head, and ran her hand through the damp spikes on her head, she wondered why she felt the almost-overpowering urge to keep Nick’s shirt.

  No. Say goodbye to him. And all the memories of him.

  When she stepped back into the main room, Nick was standing there, holding Rajah, looking…sad?

  “Are you leaving?” he asked.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. The duffel was heavy, but not as heavy as the cat.

  “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I— Look, what’s your real name?”

  “Okie,” she said automatically, then peeked up at him. “I mean, legally I’m Amelia, but I’ve been Okie for much longer. Jason gave me that name when I was like five or something.” Shut up, shut up. You’re rambling. You told him that last night.

  Pizza, popcorn, past. Past promises.

  “It’s hard to think of you as an Amelia, so I’ll just stick with Okie. Or Puck.”

  She winced. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her gaze on Rajah. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay, Okie. I understand.”

  The softness of his voice drew her eyes back to his. There was something in those dark depths she couldn’t recognize. Pity? Disappointment?

  But all he said was, “I’m really glad I got to meet you.”

  Me too, she thought. But she said, “Thanks for the pizza.”

  And the shower. And the bed. And the game and the movie and the ice cream and the way you made me feel safe for just a little while.

  After leaving his apartment, she drove for hours, not caring which direction she was going in, not looking at the scenery with her usual interest. She just stared at the road and replayed every minute of yesterday; from the moment she got that first email notification from her website, to the blissful peace of falling onto that futon, wrapped in his comfy clothes and knowing she could completely relax.

  It didn’t help.

  She’d liked Nick. He’d been a neat guy, and he knew so much about Bigfoot and the mountains around here. The first time she’d seen his website, she’d known she wanted to come here, to try to find some of this evidence of Bigfoot. That’s why she’d chosen McIver’s Mountain—because that’s one of the places Nick’s website said Bigfoot roamed.

  Actually…

  Okie found herself on the side of the road, staring up at a mountain. Not just any mountain, but McIver’s Mountain, from the other side. How long had she been driving? Hard to say, but she felt empty, drained. Hollow.

  Hollow oak. Okie’s hollow. Hokie. Hoax. Hollow.

  Beside her, Rajah stirred on the passenger’s seat and glared up at her with one accusing yellow eye.

  “I know,” she whispered to the cat, surprised by how rough her throat felt. “I’m stupid to be thinking about him.”

  Rajah opened both eyes.

  “He was nice, but he’s gone now. Past.”

  Pizza, popcorn, past. Past promises.

  She shifted her gaze out the front window, to the mountain. Her hands tightened on the wheel. “We might’ve been friends, but I lied to him.”

  The cat stood and stretched indolently, hissing at her.

  Okie’s lips softened into a smile—a hollow smile—at the sight. Her cat was ready for a walk, and probably didn’t care anything about her ramblings.

  She turned off the truck and opened the door, grabbing her backpack as she slipped out. Behind her, Rajah launched himself gracefully out of the door, managing not to make the inevitable plop an animal of his body shape should make.

  Pulling out her tablet and stylus, Okie climbed up on the still-warm hood of the truck, and stared up at the mountain. Ignoring the cars whizzing by, and Rajah who’d disappeared into the underbrush beside the road, Okie took a deep breath and held it, waiting for the beauty and the majesty of the mountain to strike her.

  But it didn’t.

  Here she was, staring up at something as glorious as McIver’s Mountain—was Bigfoot up there, even now?—with the purple flowers climbing up the south face just visible in the distance…and she couldn’t paint. Couldn’t draw. Couldn’t make her hand move.

  Why not? What was blocking her?

  She needed to be closer. She needed to be in the beauty of nature to paint, like she was when the light had hit the mountain yesterday morning.

  She needed….

  She needed…

  In her sweatshirt pocket, her phone pinged. A message from her website. Someone had sent her a comment or a request. Maybe a commission!

  She exhaled slowly, knowing she needed her head—and her heart—in the right spot in order to take a commission.

  She clicked on the notification window, and the email popped up.

  From Nick Norego.

  Fingers shaking—why were her fingers shaking?—Okie opened the email.

  I’m sorry about this morning. Can I make it up to you? Ice cream and maybe more Bigfoot talk? And discuss a few more mountain paintings?

  To her surprise, a soft smile curved her lips upward. His email made her smile? She took the time to examine the feeling.

  He certainly knows the way to a girl’s heart.

  Of course, he’d thought she was a boy…

  She wanted to see him again. She practically ached to see him again, to have a friend again. But…but she didn’t want to look desperate. Desperate for ice cream, anyhow. Maybe he could tell how desperate she’d been for a friend, someone who got her.

  So she replied.

  OK, but not today.

  She needed distance. A chance to remind herself why she was alone, and why she was better off alone.

  Wasn’t she?

  His reply came quickly. Tomorrow then. Four p.m. at Sadie’s Saloon?

  Four tomorrow.

  Tomorrow tom-ato. Hallow tomorrow. Not nice Nick.

  Yes, she could do this. She could make herself wait ‘til t
omorrow to see him again. She would see him again. See her friend. They were friends, right?

  Okie-dokie.

  Good. Good. She could do this.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She arrived at River’s End Ranch early the next day. Way too early, really. Like, dawn.

  She told herself it was because she wanted to see the property. She’d heard so much about the ranch—mainly from Nick and Jamal—that she wanted to see what it was really about. Yeah. Yeah, that was it. It didn’t have anything to do with Nick himself, or her wanting to explore the place he liked so much. It wasn’t like she wanted to see the mountains he’d talked about watching, or walk up and down the Old Town Street where his office was.

  No, nothing like that.

  Well, maybe a little.

  After the third time she walked up and down Main Street to the Old Town, she realized how stupid she was being. What if he looks out his window, and sees me? She hunched her shoulders more, making sure her green knit hat was pulled lower… Not that it would help. Still, she liked it when she felt invisible. It was easier to watch people, easier to watch nature, when she was busy being invisible.

  When she was invisible, she could go out into the woods and sit and paint on her tablet. When she was invisible, she could pull over on the side of the road at an overlook and paint a mountain. When she was invisible, she could do all sorts of things.

  But when she was invisible, she didn’t have anyone to speak to besides Rajah. No one to talk to her about video games, or her paintings, or Bigfoot. No one was interested in what she had to say, or what she thought.

  When she was invisible… she was invisible.

  Up until a few days ago, she liked being invisible. She liked getting on with her life, and knowing that no one was watching or judging her. Up until a few days ago, she thought she was alone, that there was no one like her.

  Then she came to Riston to paint Bigfoot’s Mountain. Then she met Nick Norego. She found a friend, and she wasn’t invisible to him. And she discovered that she kind of liked not being invisible all the time.