It’s already July.
It’s been thirty-one days.
Thirty-one whole days since I first walked up Charlie’s porch steps.
My room looks a lot different than it did that first day. A lot less old-man study and a lot more almost-eleven-year-old-girl bedroom. Every week, Charlie brings home something new for my room that he orders from the Sears catalog. Last week, he surprised me with a fluffy rainbow comforter.
Just like the one I have at home.
That social worker who drove me here hasn’t come back yet, but she’s called three times. Once to talk to me and twice to talk to Charlie. I don’t know what she talked to Charlie about because he used the phone in his bedroom to talk to her. But with me she just talked about the weather and asked lots of questions about Willow Creek. She told me she’d be up to see me later this month and asked if I wanted her to bring me anything from San Francisco. I told her an order of Mr. Chin’s crispy fried egg rolls. She just laughed.
I guess she thought I was kidding.
On Monday morning, after Charlie leaves for work, Tobin and I head to the Bigfoot Headquarters. We’ve been getting busier and busier since word spread about our find in Bluff Creek. And Tobin is even getting used to me changing things.
Kind of.
He unlocks the side door of the garage, and we can see before he even pulls the string on the single lightbulb that there are messages blinking on the answering machine.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
“There are three messages.” Tobin looks at me.
“Play them,” I say, leaning an elbow on the desk to listen.
He pushes the Play button.
Beeeeeeeep.
“Hello, my favorite Bigfoot hunters. This is Mrs. Dickerson. I have a sighting to report again this morning. This time, I’m sure I saw one crossing the road in front of my car at dusk last night right here on Brannan Mountain Road. I think you should come out as soon as you get this message to see if you can cast for footprints. And I just took a pan of fudge cookies out of the oven for you.”
Beeeeeeeep.
“Tobin and Lemonade sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes Baby in—”
Tobin pushes Stop, and his cheeks are redder than the Venetian Red in the Crayola box that we used for the campfire on our Bluff Creek map.
“Just ignore them,” I remind him. “There’s one more message.” I point to the blinking light.
He fast-forwards.
Beeeeeeeep.
“Hello? Hello? Is there someone there? Oh, ah, my name is Professor Jerrod Malcolm. I teach anatomy and anthropology at Idaho State University. I understand you have some plaster casts from Bluff Creek? I’ve been told they may include a midtarsal break? I’m wondering if I can come down and examine them. Please call me back at—”
Tobin looks up again, this time with wide eyes, and I bet if I could see myself in a mirror right this second, mine would be saucers too.
Professor Malcolm meets us at Bigfoot Souvenirs and More on that very next Saturday. I wear a sundress and the white sandals with the gold buckles on the heels that Mama got me from Hanson’s Shoes in the city. I attach my handmade badge with the clumped-up Elmer’s to the front of my dress and look in the mirror above the bathroom sink to make sure it’s straight.
LEMONADE LIBERTY WITT
Assistant Bigfoot Detective
Tobin shows up at breakfast wearing the same stupid thing he always does. Khaki shorts and a red T-shirt and his safari hat. He looks at me funny when he sees my dress.
“What’s with the dress?”
“I want to make a good impression. Couldn’t you have dressed up some?” I ask.
“We’re not going to church.”
“Still, it’s kind of a big deal, don’t you think?”
“He’s coming to look at Bigfoot prints. What does he care about what I’m wearing?” Tobin says.
Later that morning at Bigfoot Souvenirs and More, the bell on the door dings and a tall man with a briefcase pushes it open and peeks inside.
“Good morning!” Charlie calls out.
“Good morning to you all!” Professor Malcolm smiles, closing the door behind him.
He has short blond hair and a short blond beard to match, and he’s wearing a red T-shirt and khaki shorts. I glance over at Tobin, and he’s giving me the biggest I-told-you-so look you can imagine.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Charlie calls out. “Please, join us over here.”
Charlie has all the Bigfoot plaster casts lined up on the hearth of the stone fireplace in the center of the room. We all grab an overstuffed pillow on the floor and sit in a circle.
“Here they are.” Charlie motions toward the footprints.
“I see,” Professor Malcolm says, pulling a magnifying glass from his back pocket. “They’re amazing.”
Tobin watches Professor Malcolm with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face that I’ve ever seen.
“See the midtarsal break here?” Tobin points.
“Yes, I see it, Tobin.” Professor Malcolm eyeballs it closer. “It’s magnificent. Just magnificent.”
This time I’m beaming too.
“I found them,” I tell him, pointing to myself. “Me, I’m the one.”
“Well, she may have seen them first, but Charlie and I cast them. I’m actually the founder and president of Bigfoot Detectives Inc. here in Willow Creek. This is Lemonade, my assistant,” Tobin clarifies, pulling his crumpled business card from his front pocket. “My card.”
“Yeah, but I found them,” I tell Tobin.
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have found them if I hadn’t hired you on as an employee,” Tobin says.
“Still, it was me—” I start.
Professor Malcolm smiles at Charlie.
“Well, I think you’ve both come upon an amazing discovery here. Something that may offer more proof to the rest of the world that Bigfoot actually exists. It seems to me that you two make a great team.”
Tobin and I look at each other.
“Yes, sir,” I tell him. “We do.”
“May I take one of these with me for further examination? I can return it to you after my testing is complete.”
“Of course,” Charlie tells him. “Please do. We are just so excited to have you here to be a part of our find.”
“Thank you very much,” Professor Malcolm says, inspecting the store. “You have quite a place here.”
“Thank you again.” Charlie smiles.
“I see your sign there. Take a story and leave a story. Who wants to start and let me know how exactly you all came to acquire these amazing prints?”
“I can,” I tell him, standing up and straightening the front of my dress. I clear my throat and take a deep breath.
“It all started with a Twinkie—” I say.
Tobin hits his forehead with his hand and shakes his head at me.