Monday, November 22, 2010
I stated several weeks ago that I would shut this blog down if the ESP Team's three remaining sharp photos are proven to be a hoax (captured Aug. 8, 2010). Those photos have not been put on this blog. Yes, of the photos the team gave me to put on the blog two of them had been tampered with. Again, the tampered with photos are not the clear photos still to be released. ... Linda Newton-Perry
If there is a huge undiscovered furry animal in the forests and woods, where you take your family, wouldn't you want to know? Simply stated, isn't it our right to know? What do you think?
The unofficial spokesperson for the ESP Team is no longer returning Ballyhoo's emails. If you know anything about when an announcement will be made please let us know so we will not miss it.
If you're in the forest service, feel free to voice your opinion here on Ballyhoo. We love "talking bigfoot" and appreciate any information we can get. ... LNP
I don't know why he wants to give us grief, either. I really wish we could get an attorney to work free of charge on this, but so far not a one has come forward. I can assure you I make nothing up on this blog. Of course I do make up the fictional stories and they are clearly labeled. Thanks for your interest. ... Linda Newton-Perry
“What do you mean that you t-h-i-n-k you’ve seen a Bigfoot?” asked Mrs. April LowSam. She sniffed as was her habit when hearing something she couldn’t seem to wrap her thinking around.
“It’s all nonsense! I say simple nonsense!” she all but snorted, and in a volume uncomfortably loud for those standing nearby.
“Well, I mean … I mean exactly that. Of course, I can’t be certain, but, I believe strongly that I glimpsed a Bigfoot,” twelve-year-old Mary Joyce Bandwilly blurted out boldly. That is as boldly as she could manage with three classmates snickering at her shoulders─hanging, however, wide-eyed onto every one of her words.
“Don’t you think it was possible someone was playing a prank on you?… You know, someone dressed in a gorilla costume to fool you?” Mrs. LowSam’s questions came between long sniffs, while bent over, pulling up her white sagging socks with her long hair almost brushing the floor.
Mary Joyce’s classmates giggled louder now. Not at anything Mary Joyce was saying, but at Mrs. LowSam. She was speaking bent from the waist, broad backside pointed at the group. Mrs. LowSam was built pear-shaped. Mary Joyce couldn’t help but giggle too. She bit her lower lip, making not a sound. For, if she had this much admired teacher’s figure, she was certain she’d have pointed her backside away from anyone near enough to observe the wide span of it.
Mrs. LowSam, however, knew exactly what she was doing; she went out of her way to make “her girls” laugh. Actually, in good humor, she often pointed to her broad hips, when encouraging her girls to keep active. In merry laughter, she routinely exclaimed that her figure awaited any young lady who was slothful in her exercise habits.
In times of serious discussions, and there were many, she explained her width was inherited; otherwise, she expounded, she was of normal size for a woman of fifty.
The end-of-period whistle blew from the boys’ side of the gym. Mrs. LowSam flicked a long, thin hand at the locker room, meaning her class to run along. “Mary Joyce,” she said, “I’d like a word.”
“Yes, Mrs. LowSam?”
“Mary Joyce, please don’t feel … or rather, don’t misunderstand me about this Bigfoot animal. I know there have been numerous TV programs on the subject.…” She paused, cleared her throat and went on, “It’s just that, well, I’ve not made a decision as to whether I believe the animal exists. I just thought I would tell you that. And you might be interested to know that my husband does believe the animal is real. He’s forever with his nose in a book researching the subject. Well, go along now and get ready for your next class.”
Mary Joyce, caught off guard, simply didn’t know how to reply to the woman’s words. She smiled, nodded that she understood, took a step back, whirled ‘round and dashed to her friend waiting at the locker room door.
“What did she want?” Beth Clark whispered, as both girls went through the door into the concrete-floored hallway leading to the group of chatty, half-dressed girls primping at the one large floor to ceiling mirror.
“Nothing,” Mary Joyce said quietly. Beth continued to look at her with a puzzled expression, so she added, “Just talking about Bigfoot.” Still in soft voice, as she unbuttoned the top button of her sleeveless, white gym shirt, she said, “I’ll tell you later when we’re walking home. I’ve got to tell Susan Loam something.”
Her best friend, Beth, mumbled okay from the inside of her shirt as she peeled it over her head without unbuttoning the top button. Beth never bothered to unbutton the top button of her gym shirt.The pulled, frayed threads holding the button onto the shirt appeared in danger of breaking at any moment.
Beth Clark it seems was always in a hurry. Mary Joyce liked her for it. Ordinary things of daily life took up little of Beth’s time. She simply patted her riot of red natural curls down and flicked the long locks behind her ears. Her cheeks and lips stayed red. She used no makeup as was the habit of most of their friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t like makeup, but to tone down the red splotches on her face required a long session with a special green undercoat and so she didn’t bother.
That evening, Mary Joyce and Beth were studying in Mary Joyce’s bedroom, when her mother called to her that she had a phone call. Mrs. Bandwilly held the phone covered with her plump hand. Mary Joyce reached for the phone, but her mother pulled it away.
“This is your gym teacher, Mrs. LowSam.” Mary Joyce wrinkled her brow and held both hands with
palms up, indicating she hadn’t a clue why a teacher would be calling her.
“It is Mrs. LowSam, now on the phone, but her husband is the one that wishes to speak with you. … Something about Bigfoot, I don’t understand?”
“Oh, she must have told her husband.”
“Do you want to talk to him? It is a little out of the ordinary.”
“I guess.… Sure, I’ll take it.”
“Mary, I’m going to listen in on the extension. Tell him your mother is on the other phone.”
Mary Joyce rolled her eyes at her mother. She tucked a strand of her purple-streaked hair behind an ear.
... to be continued next Monday.