Chapter Seventeen ~ Bear and Sasquatch

as told to Kellykath by the Marvelous Mart Belden

I am not one to complain. I consider myself a most intrepid explorer of all things, both civilized and uncivilized. I am equally comfortable in large metropolitan areas as I am in rural and remote settings. I generally express displeasure with only two things – chores and mine twisty haired squaw of a sibling. One more than the other.

But I must confess, this sojourn to the inland northwest of our great country has left me . . . a bit dissatisfied. Actually, I undersell the level of my displeasure.

This trip has been one giant shit show.

So far, we’re missing mine kinsman, one Capelton Belden, who also happens to be the most adept among us at backcountry living. We’re also missing an old miner that is apparently very important to my cousins and who is a purveyor of some outstanding cookies. The aforementioned twisty haired squaw of a sibling took an unintended trip down a log chute. Okay, that was kind of amusing. But worst of all, our food stores have been pilfered. I might starve before we return to civilization, which would be most upsetting.

Oh yeah, and there is what I previously assumed was a mythical creature, a sasquatch, on the loose. At least one. Maybe two. And we’re being pelted with rocks in our own camp by it. Were it not for bear grease cookies, this entire vacation would be a complete bust.

So here I sit, around a fire with mine compatriots and the venerable Miss Trask. Why she has not packed us up and insisted on a return to something more akin to normal society, I do not know. But we are sitting around that fire, holding flaming torches, hoping that the sasquatch does not decide that we should be his evening repast. To say I am disappointed with the current state of affairs would be a tremendous understatement.

My self pity was interrupted by an outburst from my female kinswoman. “I don’t like this!” Hallie proclaimed loudly, stomping her foot. It was as if she read my mind.

“What makes you think the rest of us do?” Trixie shot back. I rarely give credit to Trix, but it was actually a fair point.

“Ssh, Trix,” Jim warned. “We’re all a bit edgy.”

Fortunately, the shadows concealed my eye roll. Had I said that, it would have precipitated World War III. The most wonderful boy in the world gets a pass from my sister’s temper.

“I think I know something that might help,” Di said shyly. “I could make fudge.”

If I’ve ever doubted that Diana Lynch is the most perfect creature ever to grace God’s green earth, which frankly I have not, but if I had, she dispelled those doubts right then and there. A sweet confection prepared by my sweet Diana was precisely what was needed to lift my mood. “I’ll beat it for you,” I volunteered at once. Not only would I get fudge, I could show off my arm strength for the fair Diana. A win win.

“It’ll never set before bedtime,” Trixie declared. “It’s not cold enough out.”

I once again rolled my eyes and had to restrain a huff of frustration. Trixie has a most annoying tendency to ruin a good thing. But before I could open my mouth to dispute her point, Honey saved the day. “We could cool it in the creek,” she offered. “The water’s really cold.”

I glanced to the responsible, conservative and honestly boring members of our contingent, Knut and Brian. If there was an objection, it would come from that direction. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear those two were twins separated at birth. They share every quality you can think of – looks, height, intelligence and most notably, they are the two most stodgy gentlemen of my acquaintance. Knut frankly makes Mr. Sensible Jim look like a wild man by comparison.

I could see the hesitation on both of their faces. I knew I had to act or my dreams of chocolatey confection would go up in smoke faster than the wood that Jim kept adding to our campfire.

“Why would anyone display indecisiveness in allowing Di to indulge her penchant for cacao cuisine anytime the propensity strikes her?” I demanded. Truth be told, Di was not the only one with a penchant, but I didn’t admit to that. “Without doubt, she’s the most adept, adroit, and accomplished concocter of candied confections in our native realm of New York. In fact, said fair maiden is probably the finest fudge fabricator in the entire geographical entity you refer to as Idaho, as well.”

I not only made the case for fudge, I complemented my fair Diana, all in one fell swoop. Not bad, huh?

“I just don’t want to attract company,” Knut explained. “But, well, I’m not inhuman. I like fudge, too!”

“Good to know he’s not inhuman,” I muttered under my breath. But I quickly helped Di gather the ingredients for her sublime concoction, as Jim stirred the coals for her to cook over. My darling Diana is nothing if not adaptable when it comes to her culinary talents. She might not be the biggest fan of the wilderness and its creatures, but darn if she couldn’t cook over a campfire just as well as the pricy stove in the Lynch kitchen.

“Observe the pulchritudinous maiden at work,” I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “She measures with dexterity. Her smile could melt the chocolate without heat.”

“Geez, Mart,” Brian laughed, throwing a pinecone my way. “Give it a rest. Let Di make the fudge in peace.”

Ha! Like he wouldn’t say the same things about Honey if anyone ever extracted the stick from his ass.

“In any event,” I returned, “I, for one, am thrilled to assist our lovely chef. Because, you know, fudge.” I even stuck my tongue out at Brian for good measure. That’s a move I usually reserve for Trixie, but every once in a while I like to pull it out for Brian, mostly because I know he’s far too dignified to retaliate.

At last, my lovely declared her concoction ready to remove from the heat source, so I gallantly took the pot and carried it to the table. Jim had fetched a pan of creek water and Di directed me to place the pot in it. “What next, my angel?” I asked.

I could tell Di blushed at that, and it only made me smile even bigger. Bigger than I had at the thought of fudge. Something to ponder over later, in the quiet of my tent.

“We have to keep checking the temperature,” Di said firmly. “Then we’ll have to beat it again and add vanilla.”

As I aided my violet-eyed beauty, I noted a smudge of chocolate on her cheek and reached out a hand to gently wipe it away. She started a bit and her eyes met mine. “Sorry,” I whispered. “You had a little chocolate . . .”

I was rewarded with a brilliant smile. “Oops,” she grinned. “Thanks, Mart.”

Does she know what that smile does to me? Heaven help me if she does.

But she directed me in pouring the concoction into a biscuit pan that she’d had me butter. I watched as she wrapped the pan with foil and we set off for the creek, just the two of us. Things were definitely looking up.

Once we were out of the circle of light from the fire, Di snapped on a flashlight, so that I could see where I was going. This seemed quite useful, since I was not enamored with the idea of an accidental swim in said creek. Quite honestly, enough had gone wrong on this trip already.

“Don’t set it where the water’s deep,” Di’s sweet voice instructed me. “Just on the very edge.”

I glanced down at the muddy creek bed. “We’ll probably end up with frog a la fudge,” I frowned, distraught at the mere notion of some amphibian spoiling my sweet treat.

“Oh Mart, do you really think so?” Di asked, looking stricken. “I did put foil around it.”

Oh damn. Now I’ve upset her, the very last thing I wanted to do. While the fudge is, believe me, important to me, Di’s happiness just might be of greater concern.

“I’m just teasing, Di,” I said in my best apologetic tone. “The foil will keep the frogs out – and insects and all the other little critters too.” At least I really hope it will. I know some people eat chocolate covered grasshoppers and I’m generally not one to turn down food, but Di’s fudge was perfect the way it was. No extra crunch required. “Besides, I doubt that any of us will give them time to get at it.”

I was again rewarded with one of those brilliant smiles. This trip, while still a mess, was definitely improving with each minute. Diana smiling at me and making fudge had done a lot to improve my mood, even though I hadn’t actually consumed the confectionary yet. And, as we made our way back to the fire, I had a feeling Di was more relaxed too.

We settled back in to give the fudge time to cool and sat in companionable quiet, muted conversations taking place. Predictably, Trixie was musing over some theory or other of the sasquatch, Honey trying to puzzle out the mystery with her. Hallie listened to them with an inscrutable expression. Miss Trask was simply looking at the clear night sky. Jim was listening for woodland creatures. He didn’t say so, but I could tell by the intense look on his face. Brian and Knut were quietly talking, but I couldn’t hear anything other than the deep tone of their voices. And, for a change, I was content to simply sit beside Diana and enjoy her presence and relaxed demeanor. Di had been nervous this entire trip and the fact that a slight smile now graced her lovely face was enough for the moment.

I was just thinking that the fudge might actually have had sufficient time to cool and debating when to raise that fact when Hallie did it for me. “If that fudge is cool enough to hang together, I’m ready to take it apart,” she drawled, voicing my exact sentiments, although not as articulately as I would have done.

Di immediately bounced up from her spot beside me and headed for the creek. “Need some help?” I offered, slowly getting to my feet, not because I didn’t want fudge, but because the quiet enjoyment of the evening had momentarily been tough to shake.

“I’ve got it,” Di called back. “Just hold the light on the path so I won’t trip.”

I started in her direction, flashlight in hand. But my light fell on a very disturbing sight.

There were two sets of eyes trained on my lovely and they were attached to a baby and a mama bear. Before I could move in her direction, my fair Diana kicked that bear cub halfway to Kingdom Come. “Go ‘way!” she shrieked, protecting my fudge like it was the crown jewels.

The bears recovered and came at my angel, who screamed in terror and sprinted toward the fire. I continued to hold the flashlight so she could see the path, but before I could do anything else, Knut intervened.

“Noise! Light!” Knut roared, as he jumped up and rushed toward Di.

I waved my flashlight frantically, thinking to blind the mother and cub who were hot on the heels of the beautiful Diana. Meanwhile, my compatriots all turned on flashlights or grabbed their firebrands and began to make the most godawful racket banging on anything they could get their hands on.

“Throw that darned fudge!” Knut yelled, as Di made it to the ring of firelight, still clutching the pan.

Now wait just a minute, sir. There’s no need to be hasty.

Thankfully, before Di could follow his instruction, the mama bear swatted her cub, which followed its mother’s direction better than Bobby ever does and took off. The mother turned in the other direction and stood to her full height, but she wasn’t looking at Di or at any of the rest of us. Instead, she was staring down a sasquatch.

This was getting tiresome. I have no idea what this creature was after, but the fact that it kept popping up, scaring the bejeezus out of us, throwing rocks, then leaving was really ruining my vacation vibe.

Mama bear was standing firm though. She stared whatever that thing was down and swatted in its direction a few times. We all watched them face off in shocked fascination. I think every single one of us was holding our breath to see what would happen next.

It proved to be a bit anticlimactic, because mama simply followed her cub and the sasquatch apparently decided it had better things to do and took off too. I think we were all frozen for a few minutes, before relief set in and we started to breathe again.

Trixie, who is frankly probably the most accustomed of all of us to staring down danger because she stupidly gets herself into so many scrapes, was the first to recover. “Sorry about the dents in your pan,” she said to Hallie. “I must have been thinking I was hitting the bear when I beat on it.”

Is she kidding me with this? We just survived a combined bear and sasquatch encounter and she’s worried about dents in a dishpan? My sister, ladies and gentlemen.

Hallie clearly wasn’t concerned with the dishpan either, because she simply let out a nervous giggle and voiced my precise thought. “I sure don’t understand sasquatches.”

“Me neither,” Trixie admitted. “Why would it sling rocks at people and turn around and run from a bear?”

Okay, once again, I don’t frequently agree with Trix, but that was actually a very good question.

“I can certainly understand the running part!” Di exclaimed.

My magnificent maiden does not give herself enough credit. She is so much stronger than she knows. And I felt the need to make sure she was aware of that fact. “You can?” I asked, wide eyed at the fact that she does not realize how amazing she is. “Di, you just kicked a bear cub!”

Her lovely cheeks colored at that. I hope because she took it for the complement that I intended.

“Whew, that was close,” Knut said. “A mad mama can be a handful.”

Truer words were never spoken. I should know. I forgot to feed the chickens last week and Moms was not happy with me.

“You know, Knut, we did everything wrong,” said Hallie.

“I know,” Knut admitted. “But at least it was a black bear and not a grizzly. The common black bear is usually timid. That’s the reason it’s still common!” He turned to Di. “I’m sorry I let you make fudge. Bears are storing fat for winter hibernation now. In bear country, it’s safe to assume bears are where the food is.”

Di looked down at the pan of fudge that she had managed to hold on to. “So are Bob-Whites,” she giggled weakly.

Di cracking a joke was a good sign that she wasn’t too traumatized and I was glad to hear it. “Let’s get at it before the bears come back,” I urged. I wasn’t about to share my treat with them, especially after Di bravely saved it.

Di handed out the fudge and I couldn’t help the fluttering in my stomach as she smiled at me and offered me a slightly larger portion than the others. “Just for you, Mart,” she whispered softly.

I am never at a loss for words. Never. I have the appropriate adage for any event. But as I looked into her beautiful violet eyes, all I could manage was, “Thanks, Di. You’re the best.”

I mentally face palmed myself, while devouring the delectable concoction. “Real smooth, dummy,” I muttered between bites of chocolatey goodness.

But one cannot remain melancholy while eating Diana’s fudge. It’s simply impossible. And I was soon distracted from any lingering malaise by the words of my older cousin. “I doubt that the bear will bother any of us tonight,” Knut said, as he tilted his head to indicate that he was listening to some forest sound or another. “Just in case, I’m going to stand guard and keep the fire going.”

“I’ll help,” Brian told Knut. That was no shock. The two most serious, staid members of our entourage decide to be heroic. I wondered briefly if Jim felt left out. It was usually him and Brian that were responsible and in charge. But Jim seemed happy eating his fudge. Heck, we were all happy eating Di’s fudge.

“It didn’t turn out right,” Di said in an apologetic tone. She wasn’t serious, was she? It was the best thing I’d tasted in a long time, which is quite a statement if you consider the volume of food I consume on a regular basis. I decided to try to redeem myself from my earlier inarticulate moment.

“Brian and I wouldn’t know the difference,” I announced. “We eat Trixie’s fudge with a spoon.”

“You eat it just the same,” Trixie snorted. Well, no duh. I’m a growing boy and bad fudge is better than no fudge. But before I could speak, Trixie had changed the subject. “Gleeps, Hallie, you look practically cheerful. What gives?”

“It’s the sasquatch,” Hallie said. “As long as it’s hanging around camp, it isn’t hurting Cap, wherever he is! And there’s nine of us. I don’t think that ‘squatch is going to tackle all of us at the same time.”

“Not with this big fire going,” Knut said.

“Shh!” Hallie warned. “I hear a motor.”

I felt Di tense a bit beside me but before I could reassure her, Hallie and Knut had exchanged a look and simultaneously yelled out, “It’s Ron!”

They both went running out of camp sans light or fire, which seemed a bit silly to me, given recent events. “I thought they were the most aware of safety measures,” I frowned.

“I think they’re just anxious for any word about Cap,” Di offered softly. “They must be so worried and they’re putting on a brave face for all of us.”

Of course, she’s right. I’m fairly worried about Cap myself. Of course, sweet, sensitive Di recognized their feelings.

They returned fairly quickly, with a tall, thin guy wearing a red helmet and pushing a motorcycle. Hasty introductions were made.

No nonsense, as always, Miss Trask got straight to the point. “Did you talk with the sheriff at all, Ron?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ron answered. “He said he wasn’t too worried about Cap yet.” Ron turned to Knut. “Exactly how long has it been since anyone has seen him?”

“Fifty hours,” Knut moaned. “Fifty hours with a beast! How could Cap have survived?”

That caused a grim feeling to settle in the pit of my stomach. I was reminded of all the times that Trixie got herself into some mess or another and quickly realized exactly how much Knut and Hallie must have hidden their fears for our sakes.

“We’ll wait until morning,” Hallie said, “then we’ll go find him.”

What happened next was as surprising as anything else that had happened in the last couple of hours. Serious, stable Knut burst out savagely, “Wait! That’s all I’ve been doing! Waiting for Ron to show up to help us search! Waiting for the sheriff to decide Cap’s in trouble! Waiting for a chance to check up on Tank! Waiting for that guy up the road to shoot somebody! Waiting for the sasquatch to carry off another victim!”

It was a pretty accurate summation of our current state of affairs, so there really wasn’t any basis to argue with him. But Miss Trask was, as always, calm and sensible. “Knut,” she said gently, “I’m afraid we have no choice but to wait until morning. As long as that animal is nearby somewhere, we’re only safe while we’re here in a group by the fire.”

Knut seemed to have recovered his sensible nature, because he acceded to Miss Trask’s suggestion. “Of course, you’re right,” he answered dully. “Stay together, keep the fire going, and wait for daylight. What else can we do?”

“Sheriff Sprute will be here by daylight if I don’t go back and tell him Cap has shown up,” Ron promised.

“It’s going to be a long night,” Honey sighed.

Everyone looked grim and for once my legendary wit and humor failed me. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to lighten the mood. How had we gone from fudge to this? Because the fudge had been a temporary reprieve from our problems. Like all diversions, it did nothing to fix those problems.

Have I mentioned that this vacation has royally sucked? As much as I like fudge, it really doesn’t change that fact.

By unspoken agreement, none of us left the fire. We just sat there, mostly silent. I had been sharing my tent with Cap, so I wasn’t about to go back to it alone, not even to ponder the conundrum of fudge versus Diana’s smile. No one else moved, either. It was probably the quietest gathering in the illustrious history of the Bob-Whites of the Glen.

I was about to break the silence when my almost-twin beat me to it. “The sasquatch in my imagination is a lot awfuller than the real one has been – so far, anyhow,” she burst out.

“Awfuller?” I muttered to myself. “The English language takes such abuse from her.” But before I could correct her grammar, no matter how much it needed to happen, she kept on going.

“I’ve got to do something. Maybe it’s too early, but I’m going to make breakfast anyway. Who wants juice and who wants milk?” Trixie asked.

I’m mildly embarrassed to admit that I was momentarily distracted by the thought of breakfast and failed to actually point out Trix’s atrocious grammar.

“I used the last drop of powdered milk we had in the fudge,” Di confessed. “I never even thought about needing it for breakfast.”

Totally worth it. I’ll gladly deal with orange juice, if it means I got some of Di’s fudge. I was wondering if we might have the ingredients to make pancakes to go with that orange juice when Trixie’s voice interrupted my maple syrup daydreams.

“Where’s the dehydrated orange juice,” she muttered. “All I can find is peppermint drops and . . .”

“You’re in the wrong hamper,” Knut said. “That’s Tank’s stuff.”

“And sewing supplies?” Trixie finished. She held up a large spool of thread and a long zipper.

I opened my mouth to explain that Trix has a serious sewing allergy, but Knut beat me to the punch.

“I gave Tank’s own list to the clerk,” Knut said tersely. “She filled the order for me.” He sounded annoyed enough that I decided to keep my observation to myself for the moment. Cap and Tank were still missing, sasquatches and bears were on the loose and everyone was tense. I’d zing Trix some other time.

I was busy congratulating myself on my restraint when Miss Trask held out a hand. “May I see that, please?”

Sewing supplies held no interest for Trixie, and she’d managed to find the orange juice and was mixing it. But Miss Trask was carefully examining the zipper.

“This is a heavy-duty zipper, such as one sets in a jacket,” she mused. “What use would Mr. Anderson have for this?”

“Tank does his own mending,” Hallie explained. “He makes things too! When I was a little girl, he made a fur coat for my doll and a muff for me. Remember, Knut?”

If Knut responded, I missed it. Honestly, I was busy contemplating what it must be like to have a sister that actually cared about dolls and muffs. That certainly hadn’t been my experience. But fur coats clearly were still not the focus of my twisty headed sibling.

“Show Ron the fur scraps,” she barked at Jim. “Maybe he’ll know what they are.”

Jim clearly took no offense to her tone, because he calmly reached into his pocket. “Know anything about fur, Ron?” Jim asked.

Trixie and Hallie, while not resembling one another in appearance, are very obviously related to each other, because Hallie didn’t allow Ron to answer. “Does he! Ron’s hobby is taxidermy. He stuffs what Cap can’t mend.”

“Could this be sasquatch fur?” Jim asked, handing over the scraps. I guess Woodsman Jim had been left behind in New York, because the Jim I know would have been able to identify the fur he’d been carrying in his pocket. Maybe he figured fur was different in the inland northwest.

“Sasquatch? Wow!” Ron breathed. “That’s what all the scientists are waiting to see.” Ron stepped closer to the firelight and examined the fur carefully. His expression turned amused. “I’m surprised you didn’t sort these out, Knut. Don’t you know what deerhide looks like? See? This is a little strip of deerhide that hasn’t had the hair removed. And these coarse hairs come from a black bear. The only local animal with hair that other color is a coyote. I don’t know how they all came to be mixed up together, but that’s what they are – deer, bear and coyote.” He blew on the fur and looked more closely. “And thread,” he added.

Thread?

“Thread?” Trixie asked, before I could vocalize it. “You mean they’re sewn together?”

“Yes, and it’s a pro job,” Ron said.

I think we were all trying to make sense of that. “The scrap with the thread is from Tank’s hasp,” Trixie observed.

“Then I’d say you have your answer to the order Knut picked up,” Ron replied. “Tank may have been making something, ran out of thread and ordered more.”

“Something big,” Honey pointed out. “That zipper is extra long.”

While people always give Trixie credit, it’s moments like this that I appreciate the fact that Honey is clearly an equal partner in their sleuthing. Her skills of observation and analysis are on par with Trix’s. She was demonstrating her point by holding that zipper up to herself and then to her taller brother, who was about the same size as Tank.

“I haven’t had a zipper this long since I wore snowsuits and built snowmen,” Jim observed with a wry smile. I could tell from that smile that Jim was thinking of a different time in his life, before his dad died. The expression on his face said the memories were bittersweet, but of course we all left it alone. First, we had bigger problems at the moment. And second, those reflections were things that Jim kept to himself or maybe shared with Dan. The rest of us had learned to respect that.

“Snowsuits?” Trixie asked, obviously still fixated on the mystery. “Tank was making a snowsuit?”

“It’s a very practical thing to have in Joe country,” Hallie chided. “After all, we have as much snow here as you do in Sleepyside, and it isn’t shoved out of the way by snow removal equipment . . .” But Hallie’s voice trailed off and she apparently realized that Trixie wasn’t rising to the bait.

“The sasquatch!” Trixie shouted. “He was wearing a snowsuit!”

What. The. Hell? Maybe we’ve been in the back country too long, but what use would a sasquatch have for a snowsuit?

Miss Trask obviously shared my concern for my sister’s mental health, because she frowned slightly. “Trixie,” she suggested gently, “maybe you’d better rest awhile and let me finish getting breakfast.”

But, in typical fashion, Trixie wholly and completely ignored our chaperone. “Wait!” Trix tried to explain. “I didn’t mean the sasquatch was wearing a snowsuit, but that a man was! He was trying to make us think he was a sasquatch! When he ran from the bear, I saw something glitter. That must have been a flashlight.”

I exchanged nervous glances with Di, Brian and Jim at that. If there are criminals in a hundred-mile radius, my sister attracts them like a magnet. And always drags the rest of us into it.

Oh no. Here we go again. Even fudge wasn’t going to save this vacation.