Sasquatch, Love, and Other Imaginary Things Read online

  I threw an arm over my eyes and tried to get comfortable and go to sleep for real, but I was too upset.

  Two hundred thousand dollars might not seem like a lot to some people, but for us, apparently it meant keeping our house. And for me, it meant going to college without having to work three jobs and being in serious debt when I graduated. It meant a real shot at my dream of being a doctor. If we won.

  Giving up on sleep, I blinked my eyes open and tried to focus on the pretty scenery along the highway, which, it turned out, wasn’t very difficult because the Pacific Northwest was really beautiful. Dense forests lined both sides of the road, with trees so tall they blocked most of the sky from view. The closer we got to the property where the competition was going to take place, the quieter it got, and the more lush and otherworldly the scenery became. I imagined the tall trees uprooting themselves at night and dancing elaborate ballets with wood nymphs like in one of my nerdy fantasy novels.

  I could understand why Bigfoot would rather settle here than in the rural Midwest. Lots of places to hide, plants and fish to eat, and fresh water to drink. Or maybe he just enjoyed grunge music and artisanal coffee.

  “Honey, there’s the turn ahead.” My mom pointed a brightly polished fingernail at a sign on the right that read “Duckworthy Homestead. Private Property.”

  We turned onto the entrance road, the fog-covered mountains looming in the distance. Only a corner of the gray sky peeked out through the trees. I had hoped for a nice shade of blue, but the sky was gloomy bordering on ominous with heavy rain clouds threatening to burst. No wonder everything was so green. It was the famous Washington rain, good for growing trees, not so much for camping.

  I nudged my sisters with my elbows to wake them.

  “Ow!” Lyssa elbowed back.

  My dad cleared his throat and gave us the stink-eye in the rear-view mirror.

  “We’re almost there.” I gave her my most innocent smile.

  “I’m up, I’m up!” Lyssa dove into her purse to get a mirror and lip gloss. “God, who made you boss?”

  Sophie woke herself coughing.

  I handed her a tissue. “Weren’t you supposed to see the doctor before we left?”

  She shook her head and coughed some more. “We were so busy getting ready for the trip that I forgot.” Her eyes took in the overgrown bushes and moss-covered tree trunks. “Are we finally here?”

  “Yup,” I said.

  “Thank god! I can’t wait to get out of this car,” Lyssa whined. “I still don’t understand why we didn’t fly.”

  My mom fluffed up her hair using the mirror on the visor. “You know your father doesn’t like flying.”

  My dad paled at the mention of flying. He tried to cover his phobia with an extra jolly smile. “Plus, we have a lot of gear we need to bring, and it’s just easier to do that with the car. Besides, didn’t we have fun along the way?”

  “Of course we did, honey,” my mom said in her most chipper voice. “Wasn’t it fun to see the World’s Largest Ball of Twine, girls?”

  “Yeah, totally worth going a hundred miles out of our way to see,” I said. My mom turned around and gave me the glare of death. Her warning didn’t have the same effect it used to when I was younger, but I still got the point.

  We followed the winding road and pulled into a makeshift dirt parking lot, a half hour early, as always.

  “You don’t catch Wood Apes by showing up late,” my dad said. He parked the van and we all stumbled out like zombies, legs asleep and necks cramped. I stretched and groaned, dread taking up residence in my stomach as the reality hit. We were about to make complete and total fools of ourselves on national effing television. Normally, I’d protest yet again, but after that overheard conversation about our mortgage, I swallowed my apprehension. My parents didn’t need anything else to worry about.

  “Let the humiliation begin,” I mumbled and scanned the parking lot for the production crew. A few cars were parked, ranging from pickup trucks and Jeeps to expensive-looking SUVs, but I didn’t see anyone who belonged to the vehicles. However, a paper sign tacked to a tree at one of the trailheads read: “Myth Gnomers Base Camp This Way” complete with an illustration of a gnome holding an arrow pointing the way. I had hoped some interns or production assistants could help us carry all our crap to the base camp. But that was wishful thinking.

  I hoisted the heaviest bag onto my shoulders since no one else made a move for it. Then, ignoring Lyssa’s complaining, I loaded down my sisters and left a few smaller things for my parents to carry. We set off up the narrow trail and soon saw the film crew.

  Colin’s assistant producer, Beth the Bland, walked over to us and in a monotone voice said, “You’re early. You weren’t supposed to be here for another fifteen minutes. Sorry you had to carry your own stuff.”

  I dropped my pack and the tin dishes and canned goods clanged when they hit the ground. “No problem. Hunting Bigfoot isn’t any fun unless you’ve got half a ton of gear on your back.”

  Beth didn’t crack a smile. In fact, her brow furrowed like I was speaking Martian. I tilted my head, trying to figure her out.

  But then I noticed the competition standing across the clearing, and I stopped smiling.

  The only thing I knew about the other team was that they were anthropology students, two guys and a girl from Netherfield Academy, a fancy private high school in Massachusetts with a top-notch science and math program. They seemed to fit the profile perfectly, with matching polo shirts like some corporate bowling league. They looked way too pampered to be much of a threat.

  Out of the three, the first one I noticed was a really cute Indian guy with slightly wavy dark hair who made me wish I had checked my shirt for ice cream stains. He was impeccably dressed in olive-colored pants and brown leather boots, which made him look like he had just been on an expensive safari. I had no idea Bigfoot hunters came that handsome.

  He fiddled with some piece of equipment and laughed with his friends. When he spoke, a touch of a sexy British accent rose through their chatter. Adorable and British? It didn’t seem fair to teenage girls with a Doctor Who obsession, like me. I didn’t realize I was staring at him, until our eyes met.

  Busted!

  The guy didn’t immediately turn away, but instead observed me with a detached, Vulcan-like indifference. I blushed and became very interested in adjusting the strap on my pack. For god’s sake, Sam, pull it together, I scolded myself. Now that I was here, I was going to win, and I wasn’t going to let myself get all boy-crazy over the competition. I’d have plenty of time for boys when I finished med school and my residency in about ten years.

  By the time I finally sneaked another peek, he had gone back to talking with his friends.

  The other boy was a Korean guy with a laid-back West Coast accent wearing a backwards baseball cap and a generous smile. His team shirt was wrinkled and paired with some khaki shorts. He played with a lacrosse stick while his teammates were unpacking. His grin was charming, if you liked guys who carried around sports equipment, which I sure didn’t. The third member of their team was a blonde girl with a face like a horse: pointy chin, big teeth, and waist-length shiny mane. Her tasteful baby blue shorts showed off her long, tanned limbs, which gave the impression that she spent a lot of time playing tennis.

  Guy One swatted bugs while the girl wiped dirt off her hands with a baby wipe.

  This is going to be a cakewalk. My face relaxed into a smile. If they were already this uncomfortable in the Great Outdoors, the prize money was pretty much in the bag.

  My elation fizzled when the handsome, stuffy boy and the girl stopped to stare at something behind me, with matching expressions of disbelief. I didn’t have to turn around to figure out what they were eyeing. I already knew. It was my family. Lyssa had put on way too much makeup and bright skimpy clothing, afraid the cameras would wash her out. My mom’s baby-blue velour hoodie and lounge pants were accessorized by a fanny pack of monstrous proportions. She looked like a
pastel kangaroo. My dad had strapped one of those miner’s headlamps on his head, despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. And all three of them were arguing loudly about who should carry the heaviest pack full of food and cooking gear.

  Sophie marched in and calmly scooped up the gear. “I’ll carry it,” she said, wheezing under the weight of the equipment. She trudged off in the direction of the three trailers that made up the base camp and deposited the pack on one of the four picnic tables. Leave it to Sophie to volunteer to carry twenty extra pounds of stuff, just to make everyone else happy.

  Well, at least that got my family to shut up and stop embarrassing me for a moment. And Sophie and I had nothing to be ashamed of. We looked more normal, for sure, even though our “work clothes” were far from preppy. We were just lucky they were without ketchup spills. “Bergers and fries are a perfect combination,” my mom always said. It was mildly funny the first five times—when we were a hell of a lot younger.

  Sophie wore a Greenpeace T-shirt and old cargo pants while I rocked my old, but comfortable Nine Inch Nails concert shirt and cut-off denim shorts. Yeah, the band was retro, but they were from Ohio, and I wanted to bring some home-state pride with me.

  Despite my misgivings, I managed a little wave to the blonde girl staring at us. I even took a few steps toward her, to say hello, but she swiveled on one heel and turned her back to me. Then she whispered something to the lacrosse-playing guy. I shook my head and retreated. Screw them.

  I was far from surprised by the looks we got from the prep school stiffs. Hell, I welcomed them. I was only there to win the money for college, but beating them would be an excellent bonus prize.

  Chapter 3

  “Long before the name Bigfoot was first uttered, Native Americans recounted their experiences with ‘wild men.’ The stories varied from tribe to tribe. Some reported playful, harmless creatures, while others lived in fear of man-eating beasts.”

  —“Sasquatch Lore and Legends, Third Edition”

  Step one of my new master plan to win was to scope out the enemy.

  I sat on a boulder, took out a book, and pretended to read. My parents and Lyssa were going through our equipment list again, but Sophie sat next to me.

  “Are those the kids from Connecticut?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Massachusetts, I think.”

  “They’re all so good-looking.”

  “If you like that rich kid thing,” I said from behind the book.

  Sophie bumped my shoulder with hers. “Be nice. We don’t know that they’re rich. And even if they are, that doesn’t mean they’re snobs.”

  “Oh, dear sweet Soph.” I turned down the page of my book and shook my head. “Why are you so kind to everyone? It makes it harder for me to enjoy being mean and sarcastic.”

  “Yet you seem to manage.” She smiled and gazed up at the treetops.

  Soon she was lost in her thoughts while I tried to concentrate on my plan, but failed miserably. I couldn’t stop thinking about how the other team had stared at my family, and how much I wanted to win and to shove our victory in their smug, good-looking faces.

  The preps were struggling with their GPS unit. The sporty dude joked, “Don’t look at me. I hate electronics. I swear the microwave tried to kill me the other day. I think the stereo was in on it, too.”

  I stifled a giggle. He didn’t seem so heinous. Too bad he had to hang out with Snob One and Snob Two.

  The girl, who was perched on a tree stump with her laptop open on her knee, just shook her head, seemingly unamused.

  “How the hell do you get the battery compartment open?” The Brit began to pry the battery cover off with his penknife.

  “Don’t!” I called out, forgetting that I was supposed to be pretending to read. “There’s a latch under the rubber case.” The GPS was the same one we had, albeit a much newer, shinier version.

  “Oh.”

  He located the latch and the cover popped open. Instead of showering me with thanks for saving their three-hundred-dollar gadget from ruin, I was rewarded with silence. He squinted his eyes in my direction then turned his attention back to the GPS. So much for gratitude. I didn’t know why I was helping them. Maybe I was a really nice person. Or maybe I was a control freak. Or maybe I just couldn’t bear to see a good piece of equipment get destroyed because some people were too freaking impatient to read the damn manual.

  The sporty guy broke the silence with a laugh and ambled my way. “Thank you—that was nice of you. Especially considering we’re the enemy.”

  “No worries. If you’re as good at tracking Sasquatch as you are at electronics, I’m not too concerned,” I deadpanned.

  He chuckled again. “I’m sorry my friends are so rude. We should introduce ourselves.” He waved the others over. They took about three steps and stopped. “I’m Kyle Park, and this is Devan Das, and Caroline Bing.”

  Devan barely nodded at me, and Caroline looked me up and down, making it obvious she was sizing up the competition. Sophie left her perch on the rock to join the conversation and held out her hand, but Devan and Caroline had already turned back to their gear.

  “Hi,” I said to only Kyle. “I’m Sam Berger and this is my sister Sophie. Over there, that’s our other sister Lyssa, and our parents.”

  “It’s nice to meet you guys,” he said, shaking our hands and offering a wide grin. Kyle’s expression softened when he made eye contact with Sophie. “Hey, cool shirt. I had thought about being a marine biologist, but then I decided to focus on primatology.”

  “That’s my dream, too.” Sophie beamed at him through lowered lashes. “Well, not marine biology, because I get seasick, or primatology because chimpanzees kind of freak me out, but some sort of animal conservation. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “Sophie does a lot of volunteering with local shelters and animal rights groups,” I said. My sister blushed, but Kyle looked pretty interested.

  “That’s awesome. So what’s your take on Bigfoot? Is he another lovable stray?”

  “Maybe . . .” Sophie paused. “What do you think?”

  “I’d like to believe he’s real. True life can be pretty weird, right?” Kyle said. “Plus, I read that even Jane Goodall thinks they might exist. That’s a pretty ringing endorsement.”

  Caroline snapped her fingers at Kyle like she was demanding the check at a restaurant. “Kyle, we need you here! Stop talking about monkeys and help us get organized!”

  Kyle gave a little bitter laugh. “Don’t mind my lovely sister. She’s the smart one. I’m just here to lift crap and follow orders, apparently.”

  “Sister?” I asked, not seeing any family resemblance in either the looks or the personality department.

  “Stepsister, actually. My dad and her mom are married.” He gave me a little salute and walked back over to his teammates. “Caroline, there’s always enough time to talk about chimpanzees. Plus, they’re not actually monkeys . . .” Kyle added.

  “At least one of them isn’t a total tool,” I said to Sophie.

  Unfortunately, an older woman in a wide-brimmed summer hat materialized behind me just then. She roughly pushed past me in a huff. I guessed she had heard my remark and wasn’t joining my fan club anytime soon.

  Colin followed behind her like she was a big elephant on parade and he was the guy cleaning up after her mess. “Dr. DeGraw, please forgive me, but we’re running behind schedule. Everyone really appreciates you coming all the way here to check on the production. We’ll get started in just a minute.”

  “Good. I have a teleconference in an hour with my department and the provost. They’ll want me to report back on the team.”

  Colin simpered. “Like I said, we’ll get started shortly.”

  She dismissed him with a wave and sauntered over to greet Devan warmly. I didn’t know who this woman was, but she made me nervous, bordering on petrified. And I didn’t scare easily.

  Colin signaled to Beth and the two cameramen, one a burly, hai
ry dude, the other a bald, wiry guy. There were also a few crewmembers standing by with huge microphones and lighting gear.

  “We’re ready, Colin,” Beth said.

  “Okay, everyone,” Colin said, shuffling his feet and surveying the small crowd. “Please gather round.”

  My parents and Lyssa wandered over and stood next to Sophie and me.

  “Before we start rolling, I want to introduce Dr. Roberta DeGraw, Dean of Netherfield Academy,” Colin said, his voice squeaking a bit. “Dr. DeGraw holds a PhD in archeology, and is here not only as mentor to the Netherfield students, but also as an advisor for the show. However, she will not be influencing the proceedings.”

  Roberta waved at Colin to continue.

  “We also want to thank Jim Duckworthy for letting us use his 10,000-acre property for the shoot. You’ll meet him later, but suffice it to say he’s very interested in your findings. I think the contestants have all had a chance to meet each other, yes?”

  Boy, did we ever.

  Colin gestured at the picnic tables and trailers around him. “This will be our base camp, where we’ll film all our group meetings and announce the challenges, and where we’ll reveal evidence,” he continued, gaining a little more confidence. “During the challenges you’ll be followed around by the film crews. However, we’re not going to be filming you every second of the day. When the crew leaves your group for the night, they’ll take the body mics with them and bring them back fully charged in the morning. But, remember, we’ve already set up a few cameras in the common areas of each team’s home base which will be running at all times to catch any interesting candid moments.”

  Colin’s face lit up, probably from the idea of exploiting our embarrassing moments for ratings. We were going to have to be really careful if we had any hope of preserving our dignity.

  Colin paused to look at his clipboard. “I believe everyone already signed the medical and legal documents we sent over. We’re all for drama, but don’t go overboard. You’ll be turning in your cell phones now, but in the case of an emergency, use your walkie-talkies to call Beth, who will arrange for medical care.” He pointed with a pen to a basket, which Beth circulated.