Roland Ray Baker looked forward all week to the time he’d spend on his second floor deck perched off the kitchen of his vacation home. Thud. He pulled the door shut on his old gas sipping Honda. Not much of a car to look at, but her keep-on-going ability made up for what she lacked in eye appeal.
He’d removed the back seat of the car so he could carry anything he required, from bags of groceries to small pieces of furniture. The aroma of Ruth’s Cafe coffee filled the little car’s interior. Baker cranked the wheel to begin backing. He paused to let a massive drab-green truck, pulling in off Deer Creek Road, stop. Misty, the name of his little car, jerked and finally reversed far enough to allow him to see past the end of the truck. The big double-cab truck shuddered, jerked and then stopped. Inches from Misty’s passenger front window a hairy leg and massive foot now dangled off the end of the truck’s flatbed.
What was he looking at? Misty stalled. Baker turned the key. The engine caught and Baker backed up, swung wide and parked about thirty feet away. He turned in his seat, so he could watch the truck and driver. The driver, cell phone pressed to ear, sprinted into Ruth’s Cafe. Less than two minutes later he was back, coffee in hand.
Was it possible he was seeing a bigfoot’s leg and foot? Baker shook his head and gulped the last of his coffee. The truck turned south. Baker would have turned north but decided to follow the truck. His plan was to snap a photo of the leg and foot with his cell phone. He got the shot and turned around, heading for his cabin. He stopped at Ruth’s to use the computer and send the photo by email to Richard Boyd, his employer and best friend. Both men enjoyed the subject of bigfoot and spoke often of whether the animal existed or not.
Baker got the photo sent. Thud. He shut Misty’s door. Was that the truck with the bigfoot coming back? Baker backed between two travel trailers, stopped and watched the truck. The leg and foot were no longer hanging from the flatbed. Oh no, he thought to himself. Did the driver know he’d seen the leg and foot? Probably did, he decided. So what? What’s the big deal?
The driver of the bigfoot truck paused at the door on exiting the cafe. Baker ducked down without giving it thought; shouldn’t have done it. The movement caught the truck driver’s eye. He was now banging on the window at Baker’s shoulder for him to roll it down.
“Hey, you the same guy that followed me just now?” He swung his arm south.
Baker said nothing.
“Listen man, you saw nothing. You understand?
Baker let his chin dip. The man hit the car door with a balled fist, pointed his finger and repeated “understand?”
“I understand. Quit hitting my car!” Baker growled with more confidence that he felt.
The driver stalked off, turned and pointed a gloved index finger at him. Baker guessed the man was making his point. His point was, he expected Baker not to tell anyone about the bigfoot leg and foot he’d seen.
Heart thumping fast and swooshing in his ears, he remembered the emailed photo to Richard Boyd. There was absolutely no chance that Boyd would not put that photo on Youtube. Baker turned south for home. Once there, he flipped on his computer found Youtube and the photo of the bigfoot leg and foot. To his astonishment the truck’s license plate and number were visible. Baker drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, for on the plate a state seal was clearly visible, clearly recognizable.
He called Boyd. The only thing they could think to do was beat it down to the police station and tell them what they knew, that they’d been threatened and that they’d put the photo on Youtube. The police officer that took the report watched the video, laughed and told them not to worry about it. But, they did worry about it.
They went straight to the local TV station. The story made the more popular evening news programs. The result was the dead bigfoot was shipped to a university. The university agreed to allow the evening news programs to keep up with the findings on the amazing animal.
After several months, the university announced the official name of the new species we have for long years called, bigfoot. Happily, Roland Ray Baker and Richard Boyd were given many opportunities to talk about their part in the discovery of bigfoot.
Baker is now retired and working on his third bigfoot book. He relishes the part of most days that he sips his favorite beer on his second floor deck, perched off the kitchen of his vacation home.
The End
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