Podcast 170 - Bigfoot (short story)

Story starts at 6:14

Oliver sat alone in the large cafeteria. In the high season, it was probably full of people. Now there was no one else; except for a waiter behind the bar, who took no notice of his only customer, but instead seemed to be mending the coffee machine.

Oliver had an empty teacup in front of him on a wooden table. A plate, next to the teacup, had been completely cleaned of an enormous piece of chocolate cake Oliver had just finished eating. Around these two objects were pieces of paper with pencil notes and an old-fashioned camera that looked too antique to be able to take any seriously professional pictures. Meanwhile, Oliver was studying a tourist guidebook - The Tarbell Trail - What to See, What to Do.

January was not a good year to visit the Tarbell Trail in Washington's Yacolt Burn State Forest, because when it snowed here, the tracks or trails became impossible to walk along. And walking the trails was exactly what Oliver had to inform his readers about - a tourist article for the spring issue of the magazine, The Hiker. At the moment, there was no snow, but the sky was iron grey and away from the warmth of the cafeteria the mountain air was freezing cold.

As soon as Oliver arrived in the forest, he walked about a mile along the paths that passed among the tall silent pine trees trying to get a feel for the area, trying to discover the reason so many hikers visited these mountains every year. However, Oliver was not an outdoor person, he preferred the city life of Seattle - about a four-hour drive away to the north. He liked its busy streets, the noise, a place where you could lose yourself among the crowds. The silence of this frozen forest made him feel anxious. Instead of feeling happily lost, Oliver found himself thinking about himself, about his life. The pine trees seemed to be listening to his thoughts, they all wanted to know, so that Oliver had no escape but to open his mind to the whole mountain. Oliver couldn’t stand it in the end and had turned back to hide in the cafeteria.

There was something that attracted the tourists, however, which wasn’t “the beauty of the flowers�?, “the healthy fresh air�? or “the peaceful mountain landscape�? that the guidebook spoke of. Visitors also came here because of Bigfoot. The huge monkey-man that a few people believed they had seen deep inside the dark forest. Although people in many parts of the United States had reported seeing Bigfoot, more people had seen the monster man in Washington state than in any other part of the United States. He was a tourist attraction.

Oliver decided that his article for The Hiker would discuss Bigfoot mostly, rather than flowers and fresh air. Of course, it was all just a silly story. Oliver had seen the famous video clip from 1967, which some people said proved that Bigfoot really existed. It shows a giant hairy* man walking on two feet through the forest. In the video, the monster then turns his head and looks at the camera for a few seconds before disappearing behind the trees. Recently, however, the video had been cleaned and the quality improved. Nowadays, it was quite obvious, thought Oliver, that it was just a man dressed up to look like a gorilla. But all that didn’t matter, everybody loved a mystery, and that’s what people wanted to read about.

However, concentrating on writing the article wasn’t easy. As Oliver looked up, he could clearly see the black forest outside - still but not peaceful, thought Oliver. The trees stood high above the ground, watching him through the window. They wanted him, somehow. They wanted him to tell them things. And Oliver felt uneasy.

Not married, alone and without friends. Yes, you’re right. So? It’s not my fault. I’m just unlucky - unlucky in everything. I live alone too. A dirty little apartment in Seattle. But at least I can pay for it! I’ve got a job - that’s why! Yes, a job as an article writer. No, I’m not very good at it, probably. They don’t give me many articles to write. But every month I take home a salary. I’m not attractive like the others. I’m overweight. My face is always red. People don’t like looking at me. I look like a… But that's not my fault. I was born like that. Nobody likes to talk to me either. I say strange things. I don’t mean to. I can’t control the words I say. At least I can write articles. It’s different when I think about what I want to say and write it down. But it’s true. I think they just gave me this article to write about the Tarbell Trail, because they felt sorry for me…

The trees kept listening but said nothing.

A loud noise of the cafeteria door opening. A large man walked in. He stopped and looked around. The barman had now vanished. The large man wore old torn jeans and a dirty jersey that could hardly cover his enormous pink stomach. Despite the cold, he wore no coat. He saw Oliver and began to walk towards him, as though* he knew him, as though* this meeting had been planned. As the large man came closer, Oliver could see he had a thick red beard and moustache, his curly red hair was long and untidy.

‘Hello,’ said the man. ‘Do you mind if I sit here with you?’ His voice was strangely high, almost like a woman’s voice.

Oliver wasn’t keen on the idea of sharing his table, but felt he had no choice.

‘Please,’ he said in a small voice. ‘Take a seat.’

The man sat down. Oliver noticed how the large man’s face was almost completely covered with hair. He even had hair on and coming out of his nose. Only his large blue eyes looked out, clear and bright.

‘What’s your name?’ asked the large man.

The question sounded strange to Oliver. It wasn’t the sort of question somebody would ask a complete stranger, but he replied.

‘My name’s Oliver.’

The large man sat waiting. Obviously expecting Oliver to ask the same question, so Oliver asked.

‘What’s your name?

‘I’m Bigfoot,’ said the man and smiled.

‘Pardon?’

‘I’m Bigfoot!’ the man repeated with the same smile.

Mad! That’s what he was. Mad! In fact, Oliver didn’t mind mad people. Perhaps you could say he even felt more comfortable with them. Mad people wouldn’t laugh at him. They were so confused in their heads, they never realised Oliver was a person with problems.

‘Oh! Pleased to meet you,’ said Oliver and he began to relax.

‘You’re not afraid, are you?’ said Bigfoot.

‘Ehm. Well, no I’m not, actually,’ answered Oliver. ‘Do you want me to be afraid?’

‘No, of course not,’ answered Bigfoot. ‘Actually, I knew you wouldn’t be afraid. Most people are when they see me, you see. Most people run away. But not you!’

Oliver suddenly felt anxious. What did he mean by that comment?

‘You see,’ Bigfoot continued. ‘I’m not really the Bigfoot. Oh, no. Not me!’ and he gave a strange little laugh. ‘I’ll explain. The Bigfoot is out there, a long way off, deep in the forest,’ and he turned his head and looked out of the window towards the trees. ‘When winter comes, when it gets really cold, he sleeps. He sleeps, and he dreams. Yes! That’s right! And I am one of his dreams.’

Oliver sat with his arms on the table, his fingers playing with the empty teacup. He wondered for a moment if this man might be dangerous. He looked across at the bar, but there was still nobody there. However, the man’s voice was so soft sounding, almost female, Oliver decided that this person, despite his huge size and strange appearance, was as gentle as a kitten. Mad - yes, but not dangerous.

‘Well, that’s very interesting,’ said Oliver. ‘I think I’d better go.’ And he began to get up and collect his papers. But the large man stopped him with a giant hand he laid gently on Oliver’s arm.

‘Oh! But you can’t go, can you?’ he said. And he looked deep into Oliver’s eyes - a look that seemed to feel sorry for him.

‘Where are you going to go?’ he asked Oliver.

Oliver sat back down nervously. The huge man continued.

‘You’re like me, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘I saw you through the window. That’s why I came in here. You know, I’m sure I’ve seen you out there deep in the forest, where I come from. Another dream. You belong here, Oliver, don’t you?

Oliver’s legs and arms felt heavy and he realised he couldn’t stand, he couldn’t escape. They both turned their heads and looked out at the grey-green forest, and now Oliver noticed that the first winter snow was beginning to fall.