I saw Bigfoot today, darling. I was in the woods behind your grandpa’s house and going on that trail that leads slowly up the mountain, listening to the wind in the pine trees and thinking What if we could fly? And if so, I’d like to fly away on that wind, climb on and ride it like a dragon (that’s something you would think up, darling). And then I saw the footprint, so big—like a giant’s foot or maybe God’s if God had feet (maybe he does—how should I know?)—and I went a little further, past the rock you said blocked the entrance to the fairy realm because there were always mushrooms growing around it, and that’s a sign of fairies dancing, you said. And there I saw Bigfoot.

And I know what you’re thinking, that Bigfoot isn’t a fairy—he’s a cryptid; and all fairies may be cryptids but not all cryptids are fairies. But there he was, standing by the fairy rock, and he looked nothing like they say he looks; more like a big bulky man and less like Chewbacca, except he wasn’t so bulky—actually pretty skinny—he just had lots of hair and real long arms and legs, and he was standing by the fairy rock, just waiting.

And he was close, so close I could have gone a few more steps and touched him, except I didn’t because I’m not that crazy (but you would be, not that you were crazy or anything but you would’ve loved this—you probably would have tried to introduce yourself to it or something, though maybe you wouldn’t have; you might’ve said it looks like it’s waiting for someone, maybe its sibling or girlfriend, and it would be rude to interrupt someone waiting, even if that someone is a Bigfoot).

So I’m back at your grandpa’s house now and thinking about what happened, and I’m trying to think about it the way you would, like maybe Bigfoot is a fairy and was trying to get back into the fairy realm, only it’s not as strong as it looks and needs help lifting the rock but the fairies won’t help because they aren’t very nice (I remember some of those stories you read to me, darling—fairies are mean), and maybe I could’ve helped but I didn’t.

Or maybe Bigfoot is a predator who eats fairies and is trying to get into the fairy realm and that’s why they blocked it with a stone—so he couldn’t get in. So maybe that goes along with the first idea that he’s too weak to lift the stone and it’s a good thing I didn’t help him because either he would have gotten in and eaten the fairies, or he might have decided human meat is just as good as fairy meat—maybe even better, or at least better than nothing.

Or maybe Bigfoot is getting sick of being tracked and is just standing around, waiting for someone to come along and get for-real proof of him being real, but the only person to come along was me who doesn’t care about Bigfoots and who only thought of riding the wind like a dragon because, well…actually I don’t know why I thought of that. And now he’s somewhere in the forest or in a cave or up the mountain feeling depressed and maybe contemplating suicide, kind of like me after you left, and I really hope he doesn’t—commit suicide, I mean.

Or maybe the woods behind your grandpa’s house are a known meeting place for cryptids and he was waiting for the others. Maybe his girlfriend was coming after all, or maybe there was a Bigfoot reunion or something—like a big gathering of Bigfoots all around the world (‘cause Yeti and Sasquatch are Bigfoots too, I think you said), and if I went back, I might see a whole bunch of furry things drinking cider and doing whatever they do at reunions. (Maybe they’re just like family reunions and you have to keep Uncle Sasquatch from Great-Aunt Yeti because she keeps preaching about the end of the world and how all Bigfoots must repent their evil ways and return to the Lord before the Great and Awesome Day of His Wrath, but Uncle Sasquatch is an atheist and laughs in her face, but that might be sacrilegious of me to imagine, sorry.)

And I don’t know why, but that last train of thought got me thinking of the last reunion I went to, where there were no Bigfoots but there were plenty of great-aunts and uncles and no you, so they paid attention to me instead and there was nowhere for me to go because I can’t be invisible when there’s no one to take attention away from me, and I thought about how you might’ve broken up the party by announcing the discovery of alien tracks on Venus and gotten everyone split on whether a belief in aliens is contrary to biblical teaching, and then we could’ve gone to the old church by the lake where you would play the organ and I would sing and we would feel ready for that Great and Awesome Day of His Wrath, aliens or not.

I’m wondering if I’m going crazy or if I’m just becoming more like you, because I’ve heard couples rub off on each other, and maybe when you died some of you detached from the spirit that was leaving and got stuck to me…I don’t know, you’re the one who was supposed to know all this stuff. I decided it’s a family reunion, and I hope Bigfoot is having a good time or has someone to make it bearable, maybe a girl who tells crazy stories about humans who worship the goddess Starbucks and drink her blood to keep functioning.

I saw Bigfoot today, darling. I would give anything to have seen you instead.

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Sarah Sax

Sarah Sax has been storytelling since she could talk. She writes a variety of genres and styles, but specializes in scifi-fantasy and poetry. Her hobbies include drinking chai, collecting pins, obsessing over a growing number of fandoms, and dancing to worship music late at night.

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This story was written for the Spring Writing Challenge hosted by The Company!

This author will also be featured in the Fantastical Summer anthology.