Some Vacation!

It was a gorgeous morning. The sun was shining, and the bluebirds were singing. The trees whispered stories of their youth, and the creek babbled away, clean and clear. I gave a stretch and a yawn. It was a good day to be alive!

I pulled an apple down from one of the trees and took a big, juicy bite, grinning as I savored the sweetness. I walked over to the creek and watched the fish jump and play in the water. It was so clear I could see all the way to the bottom. Two rabbits hopped along on the other side.

The air was cool, and the scents of the forest were carried on the breeze.

This was paradise.

And then the crashing and buzzing and the shouts started in.

Oh God!

No, please, no more....

I had spent forever trying to get the vermin out of these woods.

If it wasn't the poachers, it was the loggers and the hunters...or worse, the cryptid chasers!

Good God, these people needed a hobby!

Bang, bam, crash!

The animals ran for the hills, the fish swam away, and even the trees went silent.

Some idiot actually tried to catch a deer, shouting to his group that he had found a cryptid. The deer escaped, and the group started laughing.

That's it. I was done. I needed a vacation.

I was entirely DONE!!!

That night I packed my rucksack, slipped onto the back of a truck, and headed for the airport.

I hopped a flight, literally. I snuck into the baggage area as a suitcase. I was apparently mistaken for a designer suitcase. Fine by me.

I was headed somewhere even more remote than my woods. It was rainy and boggy—I didn't mind either, just so long as I could be left alone. It would be a wonderful vacation. When I got back, I could make a plan to get rid of the idiots that infested my home for good...well, at least for a few more decades. The whole haunted woods trick didn't work anymore—that brought ghost hunters!!! And they were worse than the cryptid chasers...they actually summoned a demon that it took me ages (and a favor to the old witch of the Blue Mountains) to get rid of.

No, that trick was played out.

I would have to figure out something new.

The flight was uneventful, and we touched down in just a few hours. I climbed out of the hold when no one was looking—I was pretty good at making myself invisible. I headed out to the deepest forests. It was a ways off, but the walk felt amazing after being cramped up on the flight. And with somebody my size...any place indoors felt cramped.

I hiked the trails and came to understand why this place wasn't exactly a hoppin' tourist spot. It was boggy and muddy, all right. I stopped to clean off as it started to rain, and suddenly I felt eyes on me.

A group of young people were staring at me with their mouths hanging open.

I tried to hightail it out of there but was too late, as every single one of them whipped out their cameras and started snapping away. Flash after flash.

I ducked off the path and into the trees.

But I was too late, damn it!

They were all excitedly pointing and shouting, and I had a feeling I had better stay deep in the forests because apparently even this far in wasn't deep enough.

There was a little town up ahead, and I stayed to the edges, but I did—after much consideration—decide to go by a pub. I took a twelve-pack of my favorite beer and left compensation for it before anyone could see me, then headed out to the local lake.

I needed to relax and clear my head.

After walking a ways while following the scent of the water, I found what I was looking for.

It was pretty—not like home, but definitely a good place to be at peace.

I set my rucksack down by the beer and settled onto a large boulder. Overhead, the sky was clear and bright with stars, the moon a large silvery disc reflecting off the water's surface.

I drew in a deep breath and felt my muscles unclench a bit.

I watched the stars for a bit until movement in the water caught my attention.

Hmmm, must be something big too....that was no fish.

I peered closer at the lake, and sure enough, there was something huge under there...and it was headed my way.

Hmmm...well, this was interesting.

Then, slowly, a reptilian head rose from beneath the lake's surface. An elongated head on a long neck broke the surface and came straight for me.

The creature looked a lot like the famed Loch Ness Monster—Nessie.

But this wasn't Loch Ness...so what was this creature, I wondered. Perhaps a distant cousin?

It called out to me in something unintelligible.

I shook my head and raised my shoulders.

It nodded and then cleared its throat.

"I said hello, friend. What brings you out this way?" Its voice was deep and thick with a Scottish accent.

I smiled.

"Vacation. Needed to get away from home a bit."

"Ahh, I ken."

“Ken?”

He smiled. “I getcha. Vacation is good. Good to move spots once in a while.”

“Too many people in my woods.” I shook my head ruefully.

“Hmmm, well, they are annoying, but they do wonders for the economy, ya know,” he said brightly.

“Economy?”

He smiled. “Friend, the tourist trade put my Evie through college and keeps food on our tables when the lakes run out of fish.”

I nodded. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

He looked at the beer. “Got an extra of those, friend?”

I nodded. “Of course....I have no bowl, though....”

“Ehh...ooooh, well, for a pint, I will come ashore!” He swam to the edge of the water and then shifted into a small, middle-aged man with greying hair.

I handed him a bottle, and he nodded appreciatively, opening it with ease. He took a long pull and then moaned appreciatively. “Ahhh, now that’s good stuff! Mick O’Hanalan—pleased to meet you!” He stuck his hand out, and I shook it.

“Claron Tall Trees. Well met!” I smiled and relaxed at the friendly energy radiating off of him.

We sat for a moment on the shore and gazed out over the lake.

“This place is beautiful.”

“I never get tired of the view.” Mick smiled beatifically and drank his beer.

We went through three beers apiece. I complained about some of my recent dealings with humans, and finally Mick looked at me with an odd look.

“Tall Trees, I understand that they can be a pain...but don’t you think you’re looking a golden goose in the nose?”

“How do you mean?” I took another swig of my beer.

He stared at his beer for a moment, then looked back at me. “The tourists keep us fed here. We opened the first souvenir shop for Nessie—my family did.”

“What!?”

He smirked a bit. “Every time things get tight, one of us goes out to the loch and splashes around a little in front of a group of tourists. Then they all start comin’ ’ere, and the rest of us run the gift shop, take ’em out on tours. Food’s on the table, kids have shoes, and no one is any the wiser...everyone gets what they want.” He shrugged.

I looked at him like I was seeing a whole new man. “And don’t you ever get tired of it? Them trampling all over your home?”

He let out a barking laugh. “Ah, yes...when the folks get a little nosey or too wild—it takes a bit more for us than you, I would say—we just have one of our kin go and debunk us. Do a good job, too! Then, after everything dies down, we coast for a little while, and if money gets short again, we just do another pop-in.”

“Pop-in?”

“Appearance. One of us shows ourselves to another group of wonderstruck tourists. It’s currently my turn. Been practicing up for the morning run.” He took another drink.

I blinked at him, which made him laugh so hard he spit out some of his beer and then looked a little remorseful over it.

“You look like I’ve grown a third head, my friend. You mean to tell me that you’ve never even thought about it?” Incredulity colored his voice, and humor.

I shook my head. “Never.”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s only right. Plenty of them”—he hooked a thumb toward the town—“make bucketloads off of us...no reason it shouldn’t go into one of our pockets, go to help our families...is there?” He raised his thick eyebrows.

I sat on the boulder I had been occupying, and it felt like I had been struck by lightning....The world looked entirely different from when I left my woods.

“No...there isn’t.”

He looked at me, pity painting his features. “Ya know...I have a niece, Bevi. She can draw anything. Ya want I should ask her to do you somethin’ up?”

I nodded slowly and then rethought it. “There is so much merchandise with our images on it...it probably wouldn’t even be seen at this point.”

He smiled wide. “Never know till ya try.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “True. Okay, yes, I would like to try. How would I...make things?”

He looked at me. “Website, print-on-demand companies, marketing...the basic stuff.”

I looked down at my hands. “I don’t know how to do any of that.”

He sighed. “We can also start you a website. We have a good print-on-demand company. We would market and such...even maintain the site for ya.”

I was taken aback. “You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “For 45% commission. It’s only 5% if it’s just the logo.”

I laughed. “Well, that’s 55% more than I had before, so deal.”

He nodded, and we clinked bottles.

“Ya wanna give Bevie an idea of what ya want, or just let her run free with it?”

I shook my head. “Let her have at it. She is more of an artist than I.”

He nodded. “That she is. She outdoes most of us. She will get you a proof in the next 48 hours.” He looked up and checked the shores across from us. “Well, it’s almost time. Better get back in the water. Tourists will be here in a bit.”

“You want me to make an appearance? Give them a double sighting? Your income would jump.”

He grinned. “Hell yes! But wait till Saturday—we will get swarmed, and then everyone will wanna come out and see us! That’s mighty nice of you. You know what? It’s 35% for your site, and you will get a chunk off of the double-sighting merchandise. 15%?”

I smiled. “Sounds great. See you Saturday.”

He nodded and slipped into the water, changing forms as he went. Soon, the Loch Ness Monster swam the lake. I smiled and left to get some sleep. We had talked all night, and everything had changed in those few hours.

I went back home after a few weeks. The double sighting sent watchers into a frenzy, and the O’Hanalans’ shops and tours sold out consistently.

I came back every year around the same time, and some researcher theorized that it was some sort of migration...I guess you could say that.

I had to up it to twice a year due to popularity, and business boomed.

Back home, my merchandise was raking in the bucks...so many that I was able to buy the entirety of my woods—it became a protected nature preserve.

That night changed everything.

“You certainly seem to know a lot more about this than the casual observer or cryptid encounteree....How do you know so much about this incident?” Dean Bruce, the man behind The Cryptid Chronicler—a small newspaper about cryptid sightings and encounters—eyed me with suspicion.

Mr. Bruce was the head writer, photographer, marketer, tech, and pretty much everything else.

I sighed.

I remembered that I had come to Mr. Bruce, not the other way around. And honestly, it was probably time somebody knew some of the truth from a source that wasn’t hysterical and incoherent.

“I guess you could say that.” I took off my wide-brimmed hat slowly and put it on Mr. Bruce’s desk between us. I had worn my trench coat, hat, and sunglasses to come see him this evening for obvious reasons.

His eyes widened, but to his credit, he stayed seated and still. “You’re him...you’re Bigfoot?”

I sighed again. “Yeah...yeah, I’m Bigfoot.” It came out with a little more rancor than I intended.

We both sat there for a bit in silence...until it started to get really awkward.

I cleared my throat. “So...umm....”

He blinked and shook himself. “Yeah...um, so, yeah...you’re THE Bigfoot...? There are so many questions I want to ask...I...I just...I....” He kept stammering. He was a good guy, but he was also in shock.

I laughed and shook my head. “Let it sit. I can come back another day. Sorry for the shock, man.”

He nodded slowly, slightly dazed. “Why did you come to me? Don’t get me wrong...I just...I....”

“Figured I’d be keeping everything a secret?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

I shrugged and looked down. “I guess...I guess I missed Mick and didn’t want to be the only one around here who knew him...or of him. He was a good dude...and my friend. Just wanted somebody to remember him with, I think. And I wanted to tell a story about him...so he wouldn’t be forgotten...you know?”

He slowly nodded. “Yeah, I do. I’m sorry about your friend. He sounded like a good guy. What happened?”

I smiled, the sadness creeping in. I’d been fighting it since I heard about Mick. “It was his time. Nothing crazy. He had a family and lived a good life...and then he did the natural thing and went on to rest. I miss him, though.”

He nodded. “I will make sure to honor his memory.”

I smiled at him and picked up my hat, placing it squarely on my head, then nodded and got up to leave.

Mr. Bruce gave me an odd look. “Hey...by any chance...have you heard anything about a young woman named Kate Mitchells? She would be about five foot four, a redhead, petite...she went missing about four years ago? It was near your woods.”

I blinked at him. “KATE?! Yeah, everybody knows her. She’s running with a clan of werewolves down south. Story goes that she ditched the guy she was with and headed out with one of the sea dragons. Once that fizzled out, she found some bikers, and they turned out to be weres....They introduced her to the pack down south that she’s with. She’s real happy, though. Why?”

He looked like somebody had shot him, and then I wished I’d said no.

Damn.

“You’re the guy she was with....Man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I felt like crap.

His eyes stayed distant, but he shook his head. “No...thank you. I appreciate it. I’m glad I know Kate is safe...and happy.”

He blew out a breath that I suspected he had been holding for a long time. Then he opened the bottom drawer in his desk and pulled out a beer. Then he pulled out a second and offered it to me.

I stared at him and then took it, opened it, and took a pull.

It had been a really odd night.

Beer was good.

He sat drinking.

I sat back down.

We sat in silence until the bottles were drained.

Then he looked at me. “Hey, you wanna go grab a drink? Benny’s is right up the street.” He was grabbing for his coat and hat.

“I’m sorry, man.” I genuinely was.

He shook his head, firmer now. “Don’t be! I’m glad that I know. Time to celebrate....I’ve been carrying Kate’s disappearance for four years. She’s free, and so am I. This is about celebrating!”

I probably shouldn’t have...but I said sure.

It was good to have a friend sometimes.