Bigfoot Believer Read online

  “Because what, Okie?” he asked in a near-pant as he caught up with her.

  She didn’t slow down, but called out in frustration, “Because I’m in them! They’re in me! They’re art!” Her hands flew out as she gestured widely up at the magnificence of the mountain above them. “And I’m part of the art! I can feel them!”

  Feel them.

  Her words pulled Nick to a stop, and he watched her stomp angrily up the path, which would lead her to the spot where he and Jamal had planted that fake footprint last year at Reggie’s behest. But he wasn’t thinking of Bigfoot at that moment…he was pondering what Okie had said. How she’d said it. Emphatically, like he was the idiot for not understanding.

  Was he an idiot?

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, and frowned up at the mountain, really thinking about his mother’s teachings. They hadn’t really mattered to him, hadn’t been really relevant to his life, so he’d just parroted them. But maybe…maybe to someone who really lived art all the time… maybe him stating so assuredly something so narrow-minded had really bothered her.

  He frowned.

  Did he care that Okie preferred being out in nature to paint it, rather than from a distance? No, not really. Maybe he’d just been using Mom’s teachings as an excuse for why he preferred not being out in nature himself.

  But he’d be willing to admit he could be wrong, in repeating what his mom had always said. Or maybe there was a difference in the kinds of art Okie produced from, say, a Rembrandt. Maybe what made her art so beautiful, so perfect and understanding, so able to capture the spirit of the landscape, was that she understood the landscape. Had lived in it. Had breathed it.

  Was even now climbing up it.

  Without him. Nick sighed. If he wanted to remain friends with Okie, he needed to go up there right now, to show her he’d been wrong—not just in his statement, but in his opinion as well.

  But the moment he set foot on the path leading up the mountain, something came over him. Did he want to tell her that now? Or did he want to find some way to show her? Was there any way he could show her he understood—or at least thought he did—what she was trying to teach him?

  He frowned again in consternation. From him, that was basically a wail of disapproval, and it was faintly amusing to realize that. Still, he resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate to show much emotion.

  Starting back up the mountain once more, he thought about what he needed to say to her. Did he need to say anything right now? Would it be better to show her? Either way, he needed to go up there to find her…he couldn’t leave her angry at him.

  Because she was right: Beauty needed to be enjoyed up close. And something he’d come to realize over the last few weeks with Okie was that she was very, very beautiful. Looking at her now, with her puckish, elfin beauty, it was hard to comprehend he’d once thought she was a boy. Oh sure, maybe some kind of androgynous hipster, with that knit cap she still occasionally wore and those beat-up jeans. But when she met his eyes—still a rare treat—and he saw that faint smile she sometimes wore, she was beautiful.

  And more than her external beauty, which had taken awhile to grow on him, she was beautiful inside. Her brain was beautiful, and he loved that he got a chance to watch how she thought. It was a lot of fun to hang out with her, to chat about life, the universe, and everything. Turned out they both liked the same kind of books and movies and a million other things, and she was fast turning into one of the best friends he’d ever had.

  It was impossible to stop thinking about her, and even when they weren’t together, he wanted to be with her. If that wasn’t a beautiful friendship, he didn’t know what was.

  Yeah, she was beautiful inside and out, and beauty deserved to be appreciated up close.

  He turned a switchback in the path—or whatever those sharp corners were called when it came to mountain climbing, which is basically what he was doing now, as far as he was concerned—and there she was. Silhouetted in all of her lithe, awkward grace against a familiar backdrop; that overlook where he’d placed the Bigfoot print, with McIver’s Mountain in the background.

  It wasn’t familiar because he actually remembered seeing the view in person, of course; Jamal had basically forced him up here last year, since he’d been in charge of the footprint, but Nick had kept all of his attention on the ground, rather than the view. Though whether he’d taken the time to look or not, he’d had to sort through about six dozen photos of the spot to choose the ones to post on The Real Bigfoot site.

  She was staring at the clump of big fluffy bushes, a look of intense interest on her face. Had she forgotten her irritation with him already?

  Then he realized what she was probably interested in—the lie he’d told—and he almost groaned out loud again.

  Instead, he cleared his throat and moved to stand beside her, praying she wouldn’t ask the question he figured she was about to ask.

  “This is where your friend found Bigfoot’s footprint, right?”

  Shoot. He’d been right. Mutely, Nick nodded his head.

  “Did you see it?”

  She turned eyes bright with excitement on him, and Nick’s heart withered slightly. Could he lie to her like this? Directly?

  He shook his head.

  Apparently, he could.

  “What was your friend’s name? The one who used to live with you?” She bounced a little in excitement. “You told me, but I don’t remember.”

  “Reggie,” he said in an ashamed whisper, turning away from the spot and facing the brilliant view of McIver’s Mountain.

  “And he actually saw it? He touched it?” Okie didn’t seem to care he wasn’t interested in chatting about this topic. “How cool!”

  Desperate to change the subject, Nick blurted, “Hey, this is a great view. You wanna start painting, then we can have some lunch?”

  Behind him, he could hear her moving, crunching through last autumn’s leaves and the still-frosty underbrush.

  “Not yet.” Her voice came from a little farther away. “I want to look around. See if I can find any other prints. Or maybe some other evidence!”

  At her words, Nick’s heart sank even further. She believed still. She believed in his lie, and she was his friend. All of his other friends had been part of the hoax—even Kelsi, who believed, but had still put him on the spot like that in the café, knowing his website was a hoax.

  But not Okie. She believed in Bigfoot, and it was thanks to his website.

  Standing there, his hands in his pockets, staring at McIver’s Mountain, Nick knew what he had to do.

  He had to tell her the truth, and pray they’d still be friends after.

  Because having Okie as a friend was the best thing in his life right now, and he didn’t want to ruin that over a dumb website.

  Stupid Bigfoot.

  Okie was on her hands and knees, headfirst in a clump of big pink rhododendron bushes, when she heard her name being called. She slowly backed out, being careful to watch where she put her hands, just in case there was another footprint or clump of fur or something. She didn’t want to mess it up!

  She frowned slightly, still peeved at Nick. But it was hard to be too angry when she was out here, surrounded by such glory and majesty.

  And also Bigfoot!

  “What?” She didn’t look at him, because she was too interested in the possible evidence in the area. Most of the commentators on The Real Bigfoot claimed he lived on McIver’s Mountain, the next mountain over. But here was where Nick said his friend had discovered a real footprint, right here! Reggie and his girlfriend or something had been hiking and they took a bunch of photos for the site.

  So maybe Bigfoot liked to roam over both mountains?

  Or maybe there was more than one Bigfoot! Maybe a whole tribe of them! The idea of them having a family made Okie happy.

  “Okie, I…I have to tell you something.”

  Nick’s quiet voice cut through her con
centration, and she frowned at him for interrupting her. But he must’ve thought she was still angry about his casual idiocy from earlier about art and beauty—which she was—because he winced.

  And a part of her was satisfied. Why? Did she want him to be hurt, because she was hurt? He was her friend, and she didn’t want him to hurt…but there was something satisfying in knowing he was hurt.

  Because it meant he cared.

  That realization had her straightening fully and turning to him. “What?” she asked again.

  Nick’s hands were in his pockets, and he seemed oblivious to the gorgeous backdrop of McIver’s Mountain behind him. No surprise there. That’s what she’d come up here to paint, and she would, just as soon as she was done hunting for Bigfoot…and listening to him.

  But he wasn’t looking at the mountain, or at the rhododendrons which could be hiding footprints, or even her. Instead, he was staring at the ground in front of her boots. As she watched, he took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself.

  “Okie, you’re not going to find any evidence of Bigfoot up here. No footprints in the bushes.”

  Her heart began to pound at his miserable expression. What did he know? “Because he lives on McIver’s?” she asked breathlessly.

  Of course! Nick must know the truth!

  “No.” He glanced up at her, winced again, and looked away. “Because he’s not real. Bigfoot doesn’t live here on this mountain, or that one over there, or anywhere. Because he’s fake.”

  Well, that hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear. A hollowness opened up in the pit of her stomach.

  Bigfoot footprint. Print print print.

  “What?” she whispered for a third time.

  Nick met her eyes finally. “I said he’s not real. All of the evidence on my site was faked. At least,” he shrugged, “the original stuff, the stuff we founded the site with. I was the one who made the cast of the foot and came up here and planted the prints Reggie found. But people believed, and they started posting all their ‘evidence’” —he wiggled his fingers in the air— “and now the site is basically running itself with no input from me, because it was so convincing.”

  He sounded almost…bitter about it. Okie frantically searched his face, hoping to find some evidence he was joking, but not sure why he would joke about something like this. What did he mean, all the evidence was faked? It was his site. And he’d just said that Bigfoot didn’t exist. That meant he didn’t believe, and…and if he didn’t believe, and his site was faked, why was she even here? Here in Riston?

  Why would the evidence be faked? Why was she here? Why would he pretend?

  She summed it all up with one wailed, “Why?”

  He sighed, and his shoulders seemed to deflate. Part of her itched to go to him, to put her arm around his shoulders like he’d done for her in the café, to let him know she cared and wanted him to feel better. But instead, she wrapped her arms around her middle.

  He lied. He lied. He lied.

  About everything.

  Okie tried to remind herself she had lied too, back when he first met her. She’d let him think she was a boy, right? That had been a sort of lie.

  But it wasn’t on purpose, he just assumed I was a boy!

  But then again, had Nick lied to her on purpose? Or had he just not told her pertinent facts? Like the fact he’d faked the website…

  Finally, he pulled his hand out of his pocket long enough to run it over his dark hair. She’d never seen him look so distraught, and didn’t like it. Okie began to rock back and forth.

  “I didn’t mean it to get this out of hand, Okie,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think people would actually believe the site.”

  She just watched him, rocking, until he winced again and looked down at the dirt between them.

  “See, Kelsi—that’s who you met earlier—really believes in Bigfoot, but none of her brothers do, and they’ve always teased her and planted all this evidence to make her excited. So last year she came up with this idea—and got my friend Reggie to help—to plant her own evidence that Bigfoot was living up here.” He sighed again, but didn’t stop explaining. “Reggie came to me and Jamal, asking for help. It was my idea to set up the website, because it made all the evidence they were planting—the fur, the dung, the scent which was bothering the animals—seem more legitimate.”

  Legitimate. Okie rocked harder. Legitimate. He’d set his website up to fool people—people just like her!

  “And it worked.” He shrugged, sounding defeated. “Kelsi’s brothers fell for it, really believing all the evidence was real. When she revealed it had all been an elaborate hoax, she got ‘em good. And then we all forgot about it, except my website was still running…”

  He looked up at her, eyes almost desperate. “When I finally got around to checking it again, there were a bunch of comments and submissions from people who believed and had their own theories and probably fake evidence. I didn’t know what to do! The site was a hoax, but it was making people feel better…”

  He sighed again and ran his hand over his head once more. “You have no idea how many times in the last few months I’ve wanted to delete that site. But I kept stopping myself, because even if the original evidence was faked, it—the site—was valuable to some people. We’ve got a few users who post every day for some reason!” He shrugged, holding her gaze. “And besides, if I had deleted it, I wouldn’t have needed new headers, which means I wouldn’t have gone looking on your website. I wouldn’t have met you.”

  Did that make it better? She was so glad she’d met him, but now…now she didn’t know what to think.

  Okie stared at his chest while she rocked, hugging herself.

  Lies, hoax, Bigfoot is toast.

  Without that site, she wouldn’t have met him. But if she’d never have met him, she wouldn’t be feeling like she was so empty.

  Part of her had broken again when he—her closest friend—had told her he didn’t really understand art. But that was just a difference of opinion.

  This? This was him lying to her. Lying to the world. About something she cared about.

  Her belief in Bigfoot wasn’t the big issue here.

  Belief bubbles burst before.

  Bigfoot not living here on the mountain wasn’t going to break her…it was the fact he had known from the beginning, and hadn’t said anything.

  Beginning Bigfoot belief bubble burst.

  “I thought we were friends,” she managed to choke out, still staring at his chest.

  He stumbled forward, his arms raised as if he was going to touch her, but they dropped to his side before he’d gone more than a few feet.

  “Okie, you’re my best friend. I know we’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I got to know you, and… You’re really special, Okie, and I’m lucky to know you.” He swallowed audibly. “I like that we can talk about everything, even stuff I don’t talk about with anyone else.”

  It sounded like he cared for her the same way she cared—or used to care at least—about him. Still…

  She lifted her eyes to his, and tamped down her hesitation when she saw the desperation and hurt in his.

  No. He’s a liar. Lies hoax lies.

  “Friends don’t lie to each other, Nick.” She swallowed, and forced her throat to work. “I don’t want to be friends with a liar.” Even a liar who made her feel at home. Who made her feel hope.

  His hands were shoved back into his pockets and he shifted his weight. “So…so we can’t be friends anymore?”

  Although it broke her even further, she shook her head. “Tell Jamal I’ll come get Rajah.”

  The cat couldn’t live with Dink and Jason, which meant she couldn’t either. But it was probably for the best. As much as she enjoyed baby Lacey; as much as it made her feel safe to know Jason and his wife cared about her and wanted her to be comfortable, she couldn’t stay here in Riston without thinking of Nick.

  Time to move on. There were other mountains to paint.


  She looked up at Nick once more, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, his attention was focused on McIver’s Mountain in the distance…and his expression looked devastated.

  Still, she steeled herself and headed down the path to the ranch. She needed to find Jason before he left and catch a ride back to the apartment building to load up her truck.

  She needed to find a different home. Far away from Bigfoot and liars and a man who’d made her hope.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Want to go for a walk?”

  Okie looked up from her blank tablet to see Jason standing in the doorway of what used to be the nursery, holding little Lacey up against his shoulder. He was carrying both of their coats, and nodded towards Okie’s sweatshirt, tossed over the side of the crib.

  “Dink’s got a big order going out next week—an entire preschool classroom ordered capes—and she said since she was on baby duty all day, I had to get Lacey out of her cute blue hair for a while.” He lifted one shoulder to nuzzle his daughter’s cheek.

  Okie knew that Dink used to have a full-time business creating a magical experience for kids by inviting them into some kind of pretend superhero world, but had cut back since Lacey had come into their lives. Now that she thought about it, Dink had been talking about something—colors? Designs?—yesterday at dinner. But Okie had been too self-occupied, stewing in her own misery, to notice.

  “Now that this little imp has figured out how to roll, she rolls over to Mama’s material stash and ruins all her pinning and measuring. So we’re going for a walk before it gets dark,” Jason finished, then looked at her. “Wanna come?”

  Okie blinked, then looked down at her tablet once more. Did she want to go for a walk? Not really; she’d been walking all day. For the last three days, since Jason had convinced her not to run off just yet, all she’d done was walk. For hours, all around Riston, all throughout the mountains and around the lake at River’s End Ranch. She’d breathed in the majesty of nature, and tried to keep it wrapped around herself.