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"Chance, are you awake?"
"I am now. What's wrong?"
"I heard something."
"What?"
"An animal or something."
Chance worked his hand out of his sleeping bag and found my hand. When the sound came again, I squeezed his hand. He put his hand around my neck and pulled my head close to his. He whispered in my ear, "Stay quiet."
He sat up and turned around, being careful of his ankle. He opened a small zippered pocket on his pack and pulled out a handgun. I've never been around guns and know nothing about them, but Chance seemed to be comfortable with the gun in his hand. He laid the gun down under his backpack that he was using as a pillow. He pulled my head over to his again, so he could whisper, "Don't worry. It's just a precaution."
He put his arm around me and held me close. I was terrified, but not so much that I didn't realize I was getting whiplash from Chance's mood swings. One minute he was being cruel and unpleasant, the next he had his arm around me, comforting me. For now, I was happy to have him close. "Sounds like a bigfoot," he whispered in my ear. Chance whispering in my ear and holding me tight against him was causing my brain to short circuit. I felt like I couldn't think straight. Of course, it was a bigfoot. I didn't even question that fact. I didn't know whether I should be more scared of the creature outside the tent or the one in here with me. I was terrified and intrigued all at the same time. This day had already pushed me well outside my comfort zone. I was exhausted and now bigfoot shows up.
"Are you OK?" Chance said in my ear.
I just nodded my head.
He pulled me closer, and we listened. After a few minutes we heard what sounded like someone hitting two sticks together. It was like what a drummer does to start a song, but with much bigger sticks. "We think those sounds are used to communicate with other bigfoot."
I finally calmed down a little, because it registered, that this man who, until this moment, seemed smart and competent, truly believed there were bigfoot around us, and they were communicating with each other. And he didn't seem scared at all. On the one hand, Chance not being scared seemed to be the best proof that this was all some elaborate joke. He seemed like a smart guy. If he believed there were large creatures around, he'd be concerned. We'd be taking some kind of precautions, but we weren't. We were just sitting here in this flimsy tent with one tiny gun. At least I could run if I had to. Chance couldn't even do that, and he still wasn't worried. Something about this was very wrong.
As the noise subsided, Chance whispered one last comment. "Let's get some sleep. Maybe we'll find tracks tomorrow." He kissed the top of my head, laid back, and pulled his bag up to his neck.
I don't know how long I sat there, but I didn't hear anything for a while and must have fallen asleep. I woke up with my head on Chance's chest, just like every other morning of this trek through hell.