Tracks
"Come on, sport, the trail's up ahead."
Gail stumbled on a root and fell face-first into the leaves. She swallowed a mouthful of dirt and bugs — she was so sure the crunchiness was bugs — and coughed, pulling herself up on her knees. Why couldn't they go to a normal place on the weekends, like the movies? Or the mall?
"Aw. You okay, sport?" Her dad pulled her up, brushing pine needles off the front of her favorite pink sweatshirt.
"Uh huh." She spit out the dirt, trying to look brave. "I'm right behind you."
"You always are." He took her hand, which embarrassed her even though there wasn't anyone around. She was a teenager. She was almost old enough to drive. She didn't need her father to hold her hand.
She stumbled again and her father held her up, pulling her forward.
Well, in this forest, maybe she did need his help. Anything was better than another mouthful of dirt and bugs.
"Just a little ways farther." Her father had that eager twinkle in his eyes, the one he had when he watched programs on the SyFy channel. She liked seeing him happy, and his eagerness was contagious. Maybe they would find something.
They crested a hill, which lead to more hills and more trees. Would the White Mountain forest ever end? Her feet ached. The fancy lounge area at the Mount Washington Hotel seemed a lot less boring and much more comfortable.
"The sighting happened just beyond those boulders up there." He pointed to a ridge that looked almost impossible to climb. "They say the Sasquatch just jumped out from behind that stand of trees then ran in the opposite direction down that ridge.
She squelched a raging surge of doubt. She wanted so much for her dad to be right, but the older she got, and the more outings they had with no evidence, the more she questioned his beliefs. "How long ago was the sighting?"
"Two months ago." He took some pictures. "Go stand by that tree. I need a size comparison."
"I'm not as tall as Bigfoot, dad." And two months ago? That was like forever. The thing was way long gone by now. If the legend even existed.
"Yes, but your five-feet-two stature will tell me just how big the Bigfoot was compared to the description the hikers gave."
She tried to stand up straight so her father could have an accurate representation, but it was hard to balance on the side of a cliff holding onto a birch tree. No wonder Mom had decided to stay and swim in the hotel's heated pool.
"Got it!" Her dad smiled as he helped her onto some semblance of a trail.
She almost asked him if they could go back, but seeing him so happy in his element made her bite her tongue.
He patted her arm. "Just wait a sec while I take some soil samples."
What was he looking for? Gail spotted a swell of vibrant purple in the ferns. A lady slipper! They were rare these days. She'd read about how the plant was on the "protected" list. She'd never seen one in person.
Gail stepped off the trail and picked her way through dense undergrowth toward the ridge. A whole bed of them had sprung up beneath an outcropping of granite. She bent down and touched one. The petal caressed her fingertip like satin. So delicate. So beautiful.
A shadow passed at the corner of her eye.
"Dad?"
No answer. She scanned the forest for his green rain poncho. A branch snapped, and leaves rustled above her. Heavy breathing from something with big lungs whispered in the misty air.
Gail shot up.
A dark patch lingered between two thick trees. Was it fur?
Her heart rate sped. Dad was right. All this time Mom and I made fun of him, he was right. Joy spread throughout her chest. She was so proud of him. He would always be her hero.
She froze, not wanting to scare the beast away or provoke it toward her. "Dad?" she whispered, backing up slowly. "Get over here."
Adrenaline pumped through her. Where did the creature come from? Where did they live? How come no one had ever seen one before? What made her so special to actually see one? Going on a hunt like this was the coolest thing ever. Her dad would be so proud.
"What is it, honey?" He might as well have had a microphone. His voice was so loud and sudden, the creature between the trees sprang into motion. Gail's heart sped as she pointed to the fur.
"Over there." The creature darted between trees, and Gail spotted an antlered head, then a rump as big as her pillow.
"That's quite a moose, sport! Good job." Her dad patted her on the back and scratched the stubble on his chin. He never shaved on vacation. "Now, let's look for some tracks."
Disappointment fell heavy and hard, stripping away her confidence and making her feel like the biggest fool to ever walk in the woods. It took all of her strength not to collapse to the mossy earth and trample all the lady slippers.
Believing was so much more fun. But when your hopes were crushed, it hurt so bad. She never wanted to put herself out there again. How could her dad put up with this day in and day out?
"Come on, sport. I found an indent over here."
She pushed through the branches. Her father knelt by a muddy hole in the ground. He'd dug in his backpack and pulled out his plaster mix to make a cast.
She wanted to tell him the imprint was just soil erosion from rainwater, that Bigfoot was just a story made up by people with nothing better to do than lie. But when he gazed at her and she saw the eagerness in his eyes, she smiled instead.
Gail put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. She wanted to play along for another day. "Good work, Dad."
****
Gail shot up in bed, confused. Where was she? Whose bed was this?
She ran her hands over the cotton comforter and last night's boat ride came back to her in a rush. The haunting call, the object on radar, walking back to the cabin, Flynn's girlfriend.
Flynn.
That was why she'd dreamed of her father all night.
I have to stay away from that man.
He made her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. He almost made her believe again.
Gail shook her head and walked to the small private bathroom beside her dresser. She stared at herself in the mirror. Baggy eyes, rumpled hair, and a sunburn across her nose. How did that happen?
Good thing there was a walk-in shower and she wouldn't have to climb down those steps in her morning hideousness.
Not that it mattered. For her, Flynn was bad news.
Gail brushed her teeth and started the shower, allowing the hot water to heat the room. Even though the dream had shaken her, she was still glad to have seen her father after these three long years. The dream had been so vivid. She remembered that long weekend at the Mount Washington Hotel like it was yesterday. The image of her dad kneeling by that muddy hole forever blazed in her mind. In that moment, she'd chosen to join him on his wild crusades despite the doubt in her heart.
I shouldn't have encouraged him. I should have told him the truth about how I felt.
Maybe if she had, he'd still be alive today.