EARLY THE FOLLOWING MORNING, a shiny, black FBI Sedan drove at the regulation steady pace-well within the speed limit, down the narrow two-lane highway towards the town of Big Beaver.
Agent Willis Johnson sat in the passenger seat irately tapping his fingertips on both knees. He was tight-lipped as he looked out of the window at the endless row of trees passing by. It was clearly evident he was not in the best of moods. The closer he got to Big Beaver the worse his nerves jangled-nerves of guilt-nerves due to her.
Agent Merlot was at the wheel. Occasionally she would smile to herself at the sight of such pleasing scenery, or a red-tailed hawk soaring above; it made a welcome change to concrete gray.
Coming into view was a road sign—"Bigfoot Bend — please slow down for Bigfoot crossing the road."
Merlot chuckled out loud and pointed to the sign. She dutifully slowed down and scanned the forest for Bigfoot, calling out in a cute voice, "Here, Bigfoot."
Willis stared at the sign as it flashed by and grimaced. He was aware that his pulse rate had increased and his palms felt clammy. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, like a nest of snakes squirming out of control. And his throat felt dry. He wondered if this is what a panic attack felt like.
Willis recalled telling his FBI supervisor that it was a pointless waste of time reassigning him to a missing person case and sending him to Big Beaver to investigate the disappearance of Beau Flucker, someone well-known for claiming he'd been abducted by Bigfoot. He had pointed out to his FBI supervisor that his area of expertise was audio and visual surveillance.
His supervisor had told him in no uncertain terms that it was on Doctor Fernandez's prescription that Willis be sent to his hometown to sort out his personal problems.
It was just dumb luck that this abduction case should occur at the wrong moment, and a perfect excuse to be psychologically evaluated to see how he'd react on returning to his hometown, a place he had expressed negative feelings about and was possibly the root cause of his recent antagonistic behavior. Shrinks! What do they know, thought Willis. Problem is, deep down, Willis knew the shrink was spot on.
Willis looked askance at his partner and saw her take her eye off the road to admire her reflection in the rear view mirror, and inspect her exceptionally white teeth.
The vain bitch will kill us both, thought Willis, as he looked back out of the passenger window.
"Eyes on the road!"
The Big Beaver welcome sign loomed up in front of them like something out of his nightmares.
Willis swallowed nervously. His pulse rate went up a notch. He ran his clammy hands down the legs of his trousers. The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach had started to give him the cramps. Sweat broke out on his brow. He started once again to tap his fingertips on both knees.
The woman he once loved was so close his guilt was ready to explode in his head-guilt at dumping her without saying anything. He just up and left.
The sign read "Welcome to Big Shaved Beaver."
At first, Willis wasn't at all amused at what was emblazoned on the sign for all to see. Disgusting, he thought. But inwardly, the juvenile reference caused him to smile at distant memories-fond memories of her. Outwardly, he was a rock.
Merlot looked at the sign and chuckled. She slammed on the brakes with a squeal of rubber, and peered up at the town welcome sign through the front window.
"Welcome to Big Shaved Beaver!" Merlot took a snapshot of the sign with her cell phone and sniggered.
Willis turned to look at his partner and gave her an irritated look. "It's juvenile and it's disgusting." He desperately wanted to laugh, but his stoic manner wouldn't allow him to let his guard down. He would be vulnerable then.
Merlot continued to look up at the sign. She chuckled. She started fiddling with her cell phone.
"What the hell are you doing now?"
Merlot grinned and pressed a key, "There."
"You sent that to the guys back in Sacramento, didn't you?"
"You betcha," Merlot said, bursting out laughing.
Willis clenched his fists in anger. Didn't his partner realize what a pain in the butt she was? And just like the idiot who had defiled the town welcome sign, Merlot was a juvenile with a disgusting mind. Willis would give anything right now to see the looks on his comrades' faces back at the field office. But there was that rock again.
"Are you going to stay here all day admiring such vulgarity?"
Merlot couldn't stop giggling. "Lighten up . . . don't you think Big Shaved Beaver is a good one?" She sniggered. "But I can think of a few better ones —such as Big Furry Beaver or Big Trimmed Beaver."
Willis' thin lip curled into a vicious snarl.
"Zip it!"
Merlot looked askance at her partner. The smile left her face as she judged the nasty look Willis was giving her.
"You really mean that don't you?"
"What do you think?" Willis showed his partner the grimmest grimace he could muster. He was gratified to see Merlot's unsmiling face. "That's better. Now let's keep it that way before I do something you'll regret."
"Okay, I get it, Dirty Harry, keep your gun holstered." With those words Merlot put the car in gear and drove off.
Several moments of zip it passed until Merlot began to chatter, like she always did when she was nervous.
"I'm looking forward to seeing your hometown and meeting the people you grew up with." Merlot grinned, showing her perfect white teeth. "Come on, Willis . . . should be fun."
Willis didn't reply. His gaze remained focused on the endless row of trees. He began to fidget. The thought of returning to Big Beaver, meeting the people he grew up with, seeing old friends and one friend in particular, filled him with dread. He hadn't seen or spoken to her for thirteen years. He'd thought when he left Big Beaver that he'd never return. That his life could only get better. He'd been planning to join the FBI and leave his hometown since his mid-teens. One thing he hadn't planned on was falling in love with the most gorgeous girl in town, though at the time he'd thought his love for her was just young love and that he'd get over her.
With mounting unease he wondered how she'd react to him coming back into her life, after ditching her the way he did. She'd probably knock out a few teeth. He couldn't blame her if she did. He truly regretted leaving her that way. He felt guilty for not saying goodbye.
But Willis knew the real reason why he'd left without saying anything. He wouldn't have been able to handle the tears and hurt. His resolve would have weakened and he would have probably ended up staying in Big Beaver for the rest of his life. And if he had stayed, what would he have done with his life? Become a deputy, maybe even sheriff? That was not how he planned to live his life.
Over the years he'd dwelled more and more on his reason for leaving her. Had he made a mistake in leaving? No, he didn't think so. He had his life to get on with-his life.
But these past couple of months, she had been on his mind more and more, ever since that damned letter—the letter that crushed his cold heart. He was still waiting for the right woman to come along, but none could cause sparks to fly like she could.
Had she been the right woman, perhaps the only woman? Willis didn't know the answer. What he did know, was that deep down, Doctor Fernandez was right, he did have unresolved issues in Big Beaver—issues that had fucked him up real good.
"You suppose we'll catch a glimpse of Bigfoot while we're here?" Merlot asked, suppressing a fit of the giggles.
Willis only half heard his partner speaking.
"What was that? Catch a glimpse of . . . what?"
Merlot repeated herself in an obvious way, "Catch a glimpse of Bigfoot while we're here."
Jesus Christ! Was his partner kidding? Only idiots believed Bigfoot existed, thought Willis, which confirmed his suspicions about Merlot. He didn't reply. He continued to look out of the passenger window, hoping Merlot would shut up.
"Hey, Willis . . . you ever seen Bigfoot?"
Willis didn't reply.
"Well . . . have you?"
Willis gritted his teeth. His partner was irritating the crap out of him. "No I haven't," he replied tersely.
"Wouldn't you like to see Bigfoot?"
Willis turned to look at his partner and wondered if she was being annoying on purpose or was she completely unaware of how much of a mind -blowing, brain-destroying irritant she was these days?
Once they got back to Sacramento, Willis promised himself he was going to insist on another partner, one that was less of a blabber mouth of humungous proportions.
"I'd like to see Bigfoot," Merlot said as she glanced in the rear view mirror and saw a solitary figure on a motorcycle coming down the road behind them. Her eyes opened wide in amazement.
"I didn't know Bigfoot knew how to ride a motorcycle," she commented with a smile.
Willis glanced in the passenger side mirror and saw his old friend Duane approaching on his bike, wearing his Bigfoot duds and his Bigfoot helmet. Bigfoot's furry party head was attached to the back of the Harley Davidson, along with his guitar.
"Fuck . . . it would have to be triple D, that dumbass, Duane Dexter," Willis muttered. He watched Duane come alongside their car and wave frantically.
Willis didn't return the gesture. His expression was serious, not even a glimmer of a smile for his oldest and one-time best friend. Deep down, Willis wanted to cry for ditching him too. But the rock remained just that-a rock.
Merlot waved back, "Hey, Mister Bigfoot!"
With a wave of his hand, Duane drove past the FBI car and sped off down the road in front of them, entering the outer limits of Big Beaver.
"Does everyone you know have to be an asshole or a dumbass?" Merlot asked. "You know it takes one to know one."
Yeah, he knew the guy. Willis remembered what good friends he and Duane had been. He had brief recollections of their glorious fishing trips for steelhead. They went back a long way. They'd grown up together in Big Beaver. They'd been like brothers, no, more like blood brothers. But that was then.
This was now. Willis hadn't seen or spoken to Duane for exactly thirteen years, along with everyone else in Big Beaver-everyone being her. And here he was returning to his shitty hometown to help solve a shitty case so some shitty nut doctor could declare Willis fit for shitty duty. The nightmare was about to begin. Shit! Shit! Shit!