The Harrison Hot Springs Legend

By Robert A. Hunt

When Ranger Roger takes over as Chief ranger for Sasquatch Park near Harrison Hot Springs, he begins to uncover evidence of the legendary Sasquatch. Skeptical about the existence of such an unbelievable creature, ranger Roger vows to believe nothing until he actually sees the creature with his own two eyes. While on the case to uncover the mystery of many missing persons reports in the area, many begin to take it upon themselves to bring who ever might be responsible to justice.
A stolen Sasquatch skull sets the stage for all-out war between the Sasquatch and the Dogmen. It will take more efforts than ranger Roger can handle alone and when all the unique team members are assembled they realize too late that they are way in over their heads. With so many cryptids in one place, no one in Harrison Hot Springs is safe.
This two part novel follows ranger Roger (the narrator) on his journey of non-stop action as he delivers a stellar performance. He must use all his strength and cunning to outwit countless Sasquatch and Dogmen to keep the village and park safe, but will it come at too high a price?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert A. Hunt
• Release date: Apr 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463839591

Robert A. Hunt

Robert A. Hunt resides in British Columbia, Canada with his wife and five children. He is the author of the thirteen published titles, including the Genation series, Jasper series and Sasquatch stand alone Legend series and a fun short story. He enjoys writing adventurous tales like science fiction, fantasy and historical fiction They remain unpredictable with new perspectives and clever story twists that distinguish, Robert A. Hunt as an author.

Book preview

Note; Cross-over information

Two minor characters of this story; Phoenix (AKA; James Hunter) & Golden-Wolf (AKA; Lionel Hunter) Who are young brothers and new Dagger recruits, were acquired from my son’s series titled; Living to Die by J.R. Hunt. When reading the action packed saga of these young lethal assassins, Phoenix and Golden-Wolf are the main characters.

Forward

THE WORLD WE LIVE IN is a fascinating domain. We are led to believe that we have discovered all the living species that live, thrive and dwell therein; that there is nothing else for us to unearth. But truly, not every area has been explored. Large or small, something new still could possibly turn up. Will we ever fully learn all there is to know?... Man continues to look with hopes to validate the sightings of legend that have plagued people around the world throughout history… Even today. There are those of us who still diligently seek cryptids and they will leave no stone unturned.

In Canada British Columbia, Harrison Hot Springs has a long standing reputation as both a tourist favoured destination and a Sasquatch sightings hot-spot. The village is a small community comprising of residential and commercial properties. Therein, resides a friendly population of just over fifteen hundred people who would love to make your acquaintance.

Many opportunities entice families, retirees, artists and outdoor enthusiasts to make the trip and explore the community. Harrison Hot Springs is situated at the south end of Harrison Lake, a glacier fed water body that offers fishing, boating and a beautiful sandy beach for sunbathers, swimmers and picnickers.

With a host of hotels, motels, bed and breakfasts, RV and holiday parks, there is good reason to stay for more than just a day. Stage shows, sand sculpting competitions and countless hiking trails assist the feeding of one’s imagination and fulfills the adventure. Visitors usually arrange time to traverse the nearby Sasquatch Provincial Park and of course, lest we not forget, take a dip in the natural hot springs.

This anticipated destination is located in the Fraser Valley on the shores of Harrison Lake and is only a ninety minute drive east from Vancouver, or less than three hours north of Seattle.

The elusive Sasquatch is; in zoological terminology a cryptid which is a simian-like creature of American and Canadian folklore and are said to inhabit the forests of the Pacific Northwest. Bigfoot, also known as Sasquatch, is quite frequently described the same way from one sighting or eyewitness report to the next. They report it to be large, hairy, bipedal and humanoid. The term Sasquatch is an Anglicized derivative of the Halkomelem word stemmed from sásq’ets.

This muscular Sasquatch is an ape-like creature, who applies itself mostly at night when it searches the forests causing campers to catch sight of more than just a shadow. Indeed they might substantiate their claim with an actual view of the creature and find it roughly two to three meters tall or six foot nine inches to nine foot ten inches in height. They are usually reported as being blond, dark reddish, various brown tones or black with penetrating eyes, a pronounced brow ridge, and a large, low-set forehead. The top of its head is popularly described as rounded and crested, similar to a gorilla’s and is often accompanied with a strong, unpleasant smell. It is also widely believed that a Sasquatch is omnivorous and nocturnal.

Such sightings were connected to a similar cryptid that people today coin as a Dogman. They are reported to be upwards of about seven-feet tall, standing like a man with muscular legs turned backwards like a dog. Its head is like a Wolf or a German Shepherd with tall pointed ears. Its blue-eyes or amber-eyes appear to glow by themselves and their shoulders are a massive four feet wide with a mane of fur around its long neck. With long needle-like sharp teeth, they are canine-like animals with a torso of a man and a fearsome howl that sounds like a partial human scream.

Dogmen, or also widely referred to as Wolfman, has most encounters occurring at night. Moonlight has illuminated such a dark creature causing it to stand out eternally in its velveteen depths to be described by purported witnesses as a bear-like creature, much larger than a wolf and resembling a Sasquatch. It is sighted to be two to four feet tall on all fours and stand upwards of about seven feet tall when upright on its hind legs. Its fur is reported as a brown-grey colour with the consistency that follows the resemblance of a dog or a bear. This wolf-like creature has an intelligence in its gaze and is apt to walk naturally and with ease, on its hind legs. Eyewitnesses believe what they were looking at must’ve weighed between four hundred to seven hundred pounds.

Some authenticates have suggested that it might be an undiscovered variety of a giant prehistoric wild wolf similar to an Amarok. Unlike the Sasquatch, who has become more widely accepted due to its popularity, the Dogman is popularly accepted as a hoax, but secret organized big game hunters know better. Within such tight lipped circles, a few dedicated veterans of such a hunt have a specimen stuffed and displayed. One day, a big game hunter will likely capture a live one for study, but the creatures are so vicious and dangerous, no containment has been adequately designed to successfully keep such a powerful upright beast. However, dead, one of these creatures could easily be written off as nothing more than a very large wolf.

Witchcraft or Witchery is broadly understood to mean those who practice magical skills and abilities. Such paranormal attributes are known to be exercised by individuals who repetitiously the customs of the mystic arts. Witchcraft in itself is a complex concept that often occupies a religious, divinatory or medical role. Often it is present within societies or groups whose cultural framework comprises of a magical world view. In this narrative such a legend is chronicled from the last surviving Nephahim offspring of Alienna. This offspring was a female creature of the night, one to which a person gazing upon her true form for the first time would describe as a bat-lady. Her strongest mystic ability applied had been her talents and gifts at the voodoo arts. In this, the witch of the woods implemented most of her attention becoming a master of controlling others, no matter if they were a human, animal or beast.

Prologue

May 24th 2015

Sunday 3:00 am

DEEP WITHIN THE CAVERNS of an old abandoned mine located miles off the nearest path in Sasquatch Provincial Park, there lived an old scraggly and crazy Sasquatch. Within related Sasquatch communities, he was known as the rogue berserker Sasquatch who couldn’t be trusted. He was known to be a needy, sickly and destitute creature who lived alone. His body hair was a mess, dirty and oily. Patches of his hair was gray while other patches were missing altogether. He would often howl and scream within the depths of the mine caverns. The pain of his headaches and disorientation caused him to wander aimlessly in the cave’s depths for days with no food as he made his way back to where he started to the best of his ability.

Eventually, the creature found his way out, but by this time he was very malnourished and in need of food. He had to hunt. Relying mostly on his nose to guide him, the rogue berserker Sasquatch made his way down the mountain. He tried to navigate at night, for the blazing sun hurt his sensitive eyes. His hunger, however, prodded him to keep moving, no matter the hour. Developing an inexorable sensitivity to most things due to his sickness, his greatest sensitivities were to light, sound and touch. He was quite timid when he was alone for this fact and usually just ran off if his infirmities vexed him. If running was not an option… well, let’s just say he was a desperate fellow with little patience. This made him both dangerous and unpredictable.

May 24th 2015

Sunday 7:00 am

In search of food while in a dreamy, intolerant state of mind, this rogue berserker Sasquatch’s perceptive nose detected a salty, appetizing and mouth-watering scent of food. It smelled like a restaurant’s flavoursome aromatic aroma. The tantalizing smell lured the massive creature through the dense forest to the back steps of a cedar log-cabin home.

This rural homestead was located at the end of a dead end road. In fact, it was the house that was the furthest out.

Still somewhat dizzy of thought, the old Sasquatch just stood there hunched forward under the low ceiling of the back laundry room.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson were sitting on their chesterfield relaxing and reading together as they have each morning for years. Mrs. Johnson loved her cross-word puzzles and Mr. Johnson enjoyed his hunting magazines after reading the newspaper.

Abruptly, their hunting dogs began to raise a fuss from the crawl-space of their home where the dogs were kept. They barked and howled, scratching at the floor trap-door which was next to where Mr. Johnson was reclined.

He stomped on the floor, Oh, you shut-up down there you little turds. There’s nothing to get all stirred up about! Turning to his wife he asked, Did you feed the buggers?

I gave you the leftover stew for them. Did you give it to them? She asked.

Mr. Johnson’s eyebrows lifted as he remembered doing just that. Yup, they should be quite full after that. The old couple decidedly pointed their noses back down to their papers and resumed where they left off.

The old house mewed and creaked as it had with any strong wind, but the night air was calm. Their barking dog’s abruptly ceased such a ruckus as a great weight befell the dining room floor boards. This didn’t deter the focus of the elderly couple, but the following stench did. It smelled like rotten garbage sprayed by a wet skunk.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Johnson lowered their papers and looked at one another with crinkled up noses.

Po-whaww! Mr. Johnson expressed with his nose pinched and a timeless look of disgust. He could hardly breathe as the odour was so thick and powerful. The stench twisted their guts. Through his sour, tight expression, Mr. Johnson asked, What is it you said you were cooking?

A dark ominous presence suddenly occurred to them and it seemed to now occupy the entire room. Turning their heads, the couple was surprised to look up at a towering Sasquatch standing in their dining area. Unable to breathe, they studied the creature for a moment. Its face was violent and painfully disfigured, but just standing there. It seemed almost peaceful-like and long in the limb with its mouth hung open to one side. The hulking mass of unkempt hair stared aimlessly at the ceiling. Because it appeared to be a daft creature, the couple saw no danger in its intent. They ventured to stand up and approach it cautiously. The creature was clearly a Sasquatch and it didn’t seem to pay the couple any mind at all. It wasn’t angry or even the slight bit brass, rather it was quiet, like a monument of nature’s power displayed for them to appreciate. It wasn’t even breathing heavily, but when it did breathe its lungs were deep and its throat sounded phlegmy. In the creature’s eyes was a look of distraction, like it was simply lost in thought.

The plan the elderly couple contrived was to shoo the monstrosity out of their home.

The rogue berserker was about to turn from the room and follow the savory sweet scent of hot food to its source in the kitchen, but there was something in his way. Two somethings and they wanted to keep him from the food. From the Sasquatch’s obscured perspective, the two aged humans had suddenly come out of nowhere and began shouting at him. They shouted and shouted and wouldn’t shut-up.

The female began swinging her broom at him. The course bristles of the sweeper slapped against his stony ape-face, waking him.

Reacting to this, the Sasquatch reached out and swatted at the old woman with a wide wave of his long hairy arm. She stepped back quickly, letting the arm pass by.

Noticing a danger to his wife, Mr. Johnson lifted the floor access door to their crawlspace and whistled for his hounds.

The Sasquatch turned toward Mr. Johnson in response to the high pitched sound he made. At one time, the Sasquatch would’ve appreciated the sound of a whistle. Most Sasquatch did, but this time it was like fangs piercing his skull and biting down on his brain.

Releasing his two hunting dogs, Mr. Johnson’s whistle sound was the signal for them to attack. The dogs sprang from the opening and lunged for the Sasquatch intruder. They bit, barked and growled.

The rogue berserker Sasquatch recoiled, but feeling trapped within the home, it took hold of nearby pieces of furniture and promptly tossed them around. The tables and cabinets darted across the room and mashed to bits against the adjacent walls. Though it was a thunderous mess of destruction, it did nothing to quiet the dogs.

The rogue berserker’s headache spiked to an unbelievable level of pain. Hammering a massive fist down, the Sasquatch killed one of the dogs.

The old man crouched forward and wrapped his arms around his last hound.

Peering down at the man unforgivingly, the rogue Sasquatch realized he was protecting the barking pest.

But Mr. Johnson did nothing to quiet the dog. The Sasquatch leaned forward and took hold of the old man by his wrists and lifted him by his arms so his feet dangled just off the floor. It seemed to please the Sasquatch to make the fool writhe and squirm.

The hunting dog, now protective of its master, lunged at the towering Sasquatch biting at its left ankle and muscled calf.

The Sasquatch reflexively lifted its foot away, but before it lost its balance, it stomped back down squishing the dog’s red insides out across the floor.

Mrs. Johnson was horrified, but what scared her most of all was the sight of the rogue Sasquatch holding her husband up by his fore arms. Following this, the old woman returned swinging her broom again only more wildly this time. She could do little to discourage the beast with her ineffective weapon.

Mr. Johnson appeared to have slipped into a coma.

Her unending, blood curdling screams pierced the creature’s sensitive ears causing it to wince tightly. It turned to look at her as she refilled her lungs. He had such raw frustration in his eyes. Then, with almost no effort, the Sasquatch plucked one of the arms off Mr. Johnson. It was like a child tearing a wing from a fly.

The woman’s screams stopped abruptly. Shocked, her mouth remained open but she could no longer produce any sound.

The rogue Sasquatch was about to drop the man and leave, but the woman became even more hysterical. She forced a scream with a breathless sound of defeat. It came from a place of her deepest fears. It was a place she never knew existed.

Dropping the detached limb, the Sasquatch re-secured its grip to one of Mr. Johnson’s legs. Then the creature thrashed the man’s body around the room like an ape with such violence, Mrs. Johnson had never known such primitive and vicious anger before. The blood of her husband sprayed everywhere.

The old woman could take no more. Her heart was like a crazy bird struggling to escape her ribcage. The time for screaming and fighting had passed. Instinctively, she was in need of a diversion so she could cut and run. Her breaths drew short and rapid. She gripped her chest. It was enflamed with pain and stress as she bolted out the front door.

The Sasquatch noticed the woman slip outside. He wanted to show off his great strength to her under some sense of control and dominance. The sound of the menacing and heavy foot falls drew ever closer, like the foreboding doom of the drums of war. It bursted out the living room window and stumbled out into her flower garden. What was left of her husband was still in the creature’s hands. He was clearly dead. Nevertheless, the Sasquatch inquisitively examined the body in his huge mits and plucked the other arm off. He dropped it to the flattened flowers. Then unexpectedly, he detached one of the man’s legs like a curious child enthralled with boredom. The rogue berserker Sasquatch didn’t seem impressed anymore even though the limbs disconnected with such ease.

Mrs. Johnson was enveloped in shock. Her legs quickly became void of strength and forgot how to carry her. She could see, in the eyes of the daft creature, that it was losing interest in Mr. Johnson. With equal ease, the beast tossed the man high into the air.

The weight of the body was pierced through by a branch high upon a redwood tree. With the stocky branch protruding from Mr. Johnson’s torso, he was held in securely in place causing the body to remain forty feet out of sight until it was to be discovered days later and carefully removed.

Beating his large barrel shaped chest, the rogue berserker Sasquatch roared at the old woman. Its anger exploded forth and was cast upon her, quaking the marrow of her old bones.

Her heart gave out and she died there on the spot next to her trampled flower bed.

Standing there for some time, listening and appreciating the silence, the rogue berserker tried to let his headache pass, but the relentless pain disagreed and wouldn’t stop haunting him.

When the Sasquatch’s nose made a connection to his mind, it re-introduced the sweet aroma of the cooking pot on the kitchen stove. He forgot about the old woman who provoked him so just moments before.

After cutting his toe on a sharp blade of glass from the broken window, the tall sickly oaf returned to the back of the house. He followed his nose as he remembered doing just moments before. Re-entering the open laundry room he went straight into the kitchen. The stove was still on and a large pot of stew was bubbling from the heat.

Dipping his finger-tip into the delightful smelling source, he was shocked when he burned himself. The pain was like the deadly strike of a rattle-snake. This stirred and provoked a retaliatory response. Striking out, the rogue berserker swatted at the festering pot and knocked it with such force the hot soup slathered the walls and slashed onto the floor.

Now, with a pre-occupied concept of his burn wound, the Sasquatch placed his fingertip in his mouth and walked heavily and morosely out the back door.

This wild Sasquatch was a tormented soul. He was anything but of his healthy frame of mind. Leaving the cabin, he lumbered into the woods. No evidence of this creature’s footprints were left behind on the property after he departed. Sniffing the air, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he found another home to plunder.

As the Sasquatch lumbered deep into the forest, a twig lunged down from the overhanging tree branches illusively touching the fore-head of the Sasquatch causing a type of stiffening to seize it all over its body. Like paralysis, it stopped in its tracks, freezing in mid stride.

Above the creature, holding the crooked branch was an equally crooked and deformed skinny arm. The branch it held was actually a wand of black sorcery.

This creature was the fabled witch of the woods. She hid in wait for the rogue berserker Sasquatch to pass by. She only looked vaguely human. Her other attributes were related to that of a man sized albino bat. Hissing, she extended her body upside down. Using the talons of her feet, she purchased a firm hold and stretched out her legs. Her inverted hideous bat-face; only inches from the Sasquatch. The green of her dark hollow eyes gleamed with a sinister delight as her course grey hair stretched down toward the ground like strands of lightning held firm and captured in time. Like a snake, she spoke with a slithering tone. Ah, you did good… very good…

She hissed again and stepped onto his shoulder.

The rogue berserker Sasquatch carried her off into a world of shadows and trees… A world of endless possibilities.

Harrison Hot Springs

May 24th 2015

Sunday 10:00 am

NESTLED AMONGST LUSH MOUNTAINS of pine and fir trees, at the southern shore of Harrison Lake, in the Fraser Valley of British Columbia, is the village establishment of Harrison Hot Springs. This resort community is popular for its welcoming town, sandy beaches and natural hot springs. It blends its charming alpine village with Canada’s timeless and benign wilderness. The inhabitants who live here year round, happily strive to mingle with the vacationers who frequently visit.

Travelers are lured to this Swiss styled village along with its amenities of an urban center before they go in search of a true adventure for both extremists and children, romantic getaways or a fun filled trip. One can find boat tours, gift shops, wildlife viewing, hiking, spas, agri-tours, fishing, festivals and other numerous events. Water front accommodations and fine dining are all available to enjoy.

The valley’s rich history is abundant with even finer natural wonders. Though the hot springs are a staple of the community, so also is the legendary Sasquatch. Frequent sightings and reports have been made here for countless generations. The dense forests provide endless places for a giant sized biped to wonder unnoticed.

The police did everything they could to keep the gruesome deaths of the Johnsons out of the tabloids. Word of mouth, however continued to plague the official report. It was only a matter of time before it was leaked to the Bigfoot researcher communities. To them the report was like unearthing a hidden treasure.

Such a traumatic event caused quite a stir both in the community and businesses of the town, but no one felt it more than the police and park rangers. They were targeted as responsible for allowing such an incident to take place. When people received word that the official report was heavily guarded with efforts to keep it quiet, it agitated the people all the more. The entire village was like one big family in the sense that everyone knew one another so when something happened to a person, it affected the rest of the family.

The descendants of the Johnsons demanded more information but the case went from being a homicide investigation to a wild animal attack. That was when the rangers became involved. The badgering from the curious and questioning villagers was so demanding, that many police officers, especially the upper ranking ones, turned in their badges. Along with them, the head of the park rangers also opted for early retirement.

‘What was it they couldn’t speak about that was so disturbing?’ you ask?

A Sasquatch!

Part 1

THE HARRISON HOT SPRINGS LEGEND

The Sasquatch Versus The Wolfmen

Predators of the Wild

Chapter 1

The Park Ranger

May 24th 2015

Sunday 12:00 pm

AFTER THIS ACCOUNT I’m about to share with you; my experience, I never stepped into the woods again. I can’t handle it. Maybe you would be right if you considered me to be impractical or foolish, but I saw things; things you haven’t seen. Now when I look into the forest, I detect shadows of nightmarish creatures moving there. Such monstrous cryptids reach out for me… They growl and bite at me. They claw and scratch for me… but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you every remarkable detail that took place from the beginning…

A new chief was elected and promoted from the ranks of Manning Park’s finest. I, Ranger Roger drove into Harrison Hot Springs with my trusty best friend; my black lab, Spirit. This specially-trained canine was every bit a ranger as I was. Regularly, I referred to my hound as my partner.

I could be described as a tall, lean young man and very dedicated to my job. I’ve been told my face was fair with a kindly, good-hearted and trusting complexion. Because I was expected to sign in and attend a meeting in the next hour, I was already wearing my ranger uniform. It was a tan shirt with dark green trousers, including a brown leather belt and a wide brim brown Smokey Bear hat. A patch on each of my shoulders read, National Parks Service of B.C. On my chest, I wore a gold badge and over my opposite shoulder was draped a long range handset for radio communication with the fort’s dispatch.

It wasn’t my first time visiting the area, but I hadn’t spent any downtime in this vacation getaway either.

The day was warm and sunny with no clouds in the sky. A rush of fresh cool mountain wind carried with it the familiar sounds and smells that attracted so many people. Along with the sights of a recreational dream come true, I observed something about the village of Harrison Hot Springs that you couldn’t find anywhere else. It was a special energy in the air that was felt in this beautiful, thriving community and it came with the spectacle of people enjoying themselves.

As I drove down Hot Springs Road, I noticed all of the references to the legendary Bigfoot. It was a tourist town and I gave a nod to such things without a second thought. The Bigfoot was obviously the town’s hook to draw people in. Everything about Harrison Hot Springs seemed to confirm this.

Cruising slowly, Spirit had his face out the passenger window. His eyes squinted with his ears flapping back. His tongue hung out wafting at the side of his open jowls, the hound seemed to be smiling.

Slowing my truck down, I took a good long look at a huge ten foot carving of a Bigfoot in a resident’s front yard. It looked like a very old wooden alter of a Sasquatch that was both permanent and sacred. Passing by in my truck, I thought. ‘This is a great get-a-way destination for the whole family. The only thing this village lacks is a Bigfoot theme park.’ I groaned aloud with relief. ‘Oh, how could I forget, the 1,217 hectares of Sasquatch National Park. It’s the whole reason I’m here.’

While I continued to cruise through the village and take in the sights, I listened to the local radio station. I wasn’t surprised by what I heard.

A local hunter was being interviewed on the air as he intoned, And I can’t believe these things. They’re getting bold. They’re coming into hunting grounds now. I never saw one of these things as a kid but now as an adult, I’ve seen one three times! There are more sightings now-a-days than ever recorded before! It’s like they want to be seen! It’s like they want to come out into the open...

Huh, Bigfoot. I scoffed.

Spirit ambled across the seat to my side and licked my face.

I reciprocated by scratching him behind his ears and said. Some people will believe anything, won’t they? Slowly motoring past an extremely large wooden carving of another Bigfoot statue, I pondered and really studied it. For a brief second, I let my imagination wonder. You think? I considered the possibility for a moment to find out what the big appeal was to people. Giving it my best effort to let the bizarre concept take root... Naw. With a shake of my head I chuckled to myself. It just wasn’t going to happen. The whole concept was completely preposterous.

Startled from my inner debate my eyes caught sight of a vision. A woman dressed in a yellow one-piece summer dress with a matching hat. She was on the roadside of Rockwell Drive, at the corner of the Harrison Gospel Chapel, craning her neck to find a break in the traffic so she could cross the road. Her hair was reddish-brown and waved gently in the calm breeze.

Parking my pickup truck on the shoulder of the road near the beautiful damsel, I opened my door and stepped out. Turning my head slightly, glancing in her direction, there was a split second when our eyes met.

Looking away immediately trying to be careful not to stare, I swiftly turned back blushingly to take a second look. There, I noticed she was still looking at me. Smiling, I tipped my hat and took a brave step out onto the roadside. With my back straight, like a pillar of authority, I marched out into traffic and lifted my palm. Stretching my open hand out to the motorists, the cars in both directions slowed to a halt.

Thank you, sir! The woman in yellow called waving an outstretched arm as she hustled across the street.

My partner, Spirit, leaped lithely out the passenger window when he saw all of the cars had stopped and we all crossed the road to the other side swiftly.

Spirit and I headed up the road towards our destination; the public ranger’s station. To my surprise, the woman in yellow was also heading the same direction.

Little did I know, the woman in yellow wasn’t just a mere visitor to Harrison Hot Springs either. She was also there on business.

You’re going our way? I asked with a polite gentleman’s tone.

Shyly, she nodded and gave a subtle but sweet smile.

You should stay close ma’am, for your safety, of course. I waited for her to catch up to us. If I knew you were heading to the Ranger’s station, I would’ve driven you right to the parking lot.

Oh, I’m not going to the ranger’s station. she uttered.

The marina of Killer’s cove then? I asked.

No! she giggled. I want to see the paintings in the art gallery.

Oh, that’s connected to the ranger’s station. Leaning forward, I reached out to shake her hand. I’m ranger Roger. This is my partner, Spirit.

She looked down and smiled at my black lab. Her hand slipped out of mine. You named your dog, Spirit?

Well, the previous owner did, yes. Is there something wrong with that?

"No, nothing… I just thought only a white dog would be named Spirit."

Just as she told me her name, an eighteen wheeler, commercial truck passed by striking such a groan and a confusion of air, I couldn’t hear a word she said.

Unable to catch what her name was, the rush of air that followed the truck threatened to take her hat. She reached up and tried to clamp it down with her arms.

Before we knew it, we were at our destination parting ways.

Her name was Sandy. Sandy Grace. Thank you for your hospitality, ranger Roger. Next she patted Spirit gently on his head and vanished into the art gallery.

My eyebrows arched high as I turned away thinking of her. I won’t lie. I was stricken by her from the moment I saw her but I was certain it was likely the last time I’d see her and entered the ranger’s station.

Sandy felt an instant connection to Harrison Hot Springs, her uncontainable smile gleamed from her face.

Stepping into the door of the art gallery, she looked around and found some familiar faces. She was scheduled to meet with the rest of her group, the Bigfoot researcher’s association.

May 24th 2015

Sunday 1:45 pm

Those who attended Harrison High agreed it was a small high school, but what made it special were the students and their eccentric personalities.

Yannis, often referred to as, ‘the Bubble gum girl,’ though she despised it, attended a typical school basketball game and sat in her favorite spot in the bleachers. She was rarely seen without a piece of gum chewing in her mouth. It was like a drug to her. An obsession that she wasn’t proud of but one she was helpless to break. She couldn’t remember when it all began but in the past few years this dependency had only grown worse.

Dressed in a dark gothic attire, Yannis didn’t care if someone were to see her pull a piece of chewed bubble gum from the bottom of a chair or a desk and give it a second chance. She searched for an inkling of remaining flavour. Even if she couldn’t find anything sweet about the taste she would rarely spit it out, which begged the question, where did the gum go when she was done with it? No one ever saw it leave her possession?

Parents, teachers, class-mates, doctors and even her dentist had tried endlessly to tell her the dangers of chewing used gum. From the unsanitary health problems to it being down-right disgusting, nothing worked. She loved it! -Not the attention- The gum!

No one knew what else to do for her. There were no instructional videos on the matter, professional psychiatrists made no significant progress and no one seemed to remember her by her name, but when they said, the bubble-gum girl, everyone’s response was the same, Oh, yes. The girl with the gum.

Students attended a weekend basketball rally. Harrison High was on a winning streak. Recently, they creamed H.D. Stafford’s team, the Trojans. Now, Langley Secondary’s Raptors visited Harrison to challenge the Bigfoots and were proving to be quite the handful. As it stood, the score was tied at five. Harrison Bigfoots were working for the tie breaking shot for the win.

Looking across the basketball court in the gymnasium, Yannis’ wandering eye located Steve Young. He was a popular Bigfoots star basketball player, even though he was totally out of her popularity league, she liked him. Between them they had exchanged no more than a couple of smiles and alluring glances, but to Yannis that was enough to purport they were a match fated in the stars and composed in heaven.

Yannis wanted to know if Steve, in point of fact, actually liked her, but she never had the guts to find out for sure. He was always surrounded with his jock buddies and they intimidated her with their vulgar expressions and downward judgemental looks.

She, on the other hand, didn’t have any friends, except for Coco and even Kaden could only tolerate her most days. She was just too strange for most people, so she usually hung around with other, less popular, students.

This time, however, Steve was standing on the sideline looking at her; longer than usual. ‘Could it be?’ She wondered. ‘Is he really digging me?’

Though Steve was palling around with his friends, he was unmistakably looking at her. Then he popped a stick of juicy fruit in his mouth. When he began chewing, he smiled and she just about lost her mind.

‘GUM! Oh, baby! He’s the most perfect guy in the entire universe!’ she philosophized.

Then the head cheerleader, Sammie Swanson, bounced up to him and wrapped her arms and legs around him.

Yannis looked away, feeling utterly defeated once again. She was about to turn and leave, when she noticed Steve toss Sammie away. She landed right on her basketball butt and Steve didn’t even seem to care. All of his friends were in a state of complete shock, but no one was more surprised than Sammie or Yannis.

Everything seemed to run in slow motion. Still chewing his gum like a boss, Steve made that wonderful sticky, lip smacking sound.

Yannis was completely taken by his charming good looks and that delightful toilet plunger noise. Then she noticed something new in the way he was chewing his gum. ‘He is in love with me. It must be a secret infatuation that he’s been hiding away inside his heart for who knows how long?’ she concluded.

Raising his eyebrows to her a couple of times, he smiled even wider like he wanted to impress her with his devoted achievement.

Seeing this, Yannis began running toward him right across the basketball court at full-tilt. She didn’t care that the game was still on. With her arms held out wide to embrace him, she charged across the distance between them, stomping her feet into the court in the middle of a game as she went with unparalleled agility and speed. There was nothing graceful or lady-like about her approach, but at this point she simply didn’t care. Like an arrow with only one focus, Yannis headed out amongst the basketball players who were charging her way. She blatantly body checked a Harrison High player who was dribbling the ball. He stumbled and rolled across the gymnasium floor. The basketball rose up in her face, but she reflexively batted it out of her way.

Consequently, she initiated the basketball to arc high across the court and slip right through the basket of the opposing team. Her game was on!

Nooo!

What the?....

Who is she?! came just a few of the less flagrant comments.

When Steve saw Yannis heading his way with such raw determination, he knew she was coming for him. The young athlete straightened himself and braced for impact. Wondering what it would be like to hold her in his arms and kiss her, Steve didn’t realize he had pursed his lips.

Though time was fleeting, it still seemed to run slower. She was almost with him.

Realizing a kiss was eminent, Steve spat out his gum to his left side.

Immediately, the bubble gum girl changed direction in mid stride and dived for the gum. She was going for the goal. She was going for the gum! Pinching it up off the gymnasium floor, it stretched out into a long strand, but before she collapsed full out, she had popped it into her mouth.

The entire attendance of bleacher spectators gasped with similar surprised expressions at the grotesque display they had witnessed, then they let out their disgust, disappointment and disapproval with a resounding and conclusive sigh of, Uuuuugh...

Yannis tilted her head up to look up at Steve. She glared at him like he was a crazy lunatic and asked. Why would you spit out your gum, you idiot?! It still has so much flavour!!!

Steve was mortally disgusted.

Yannis obviously loved gum more than she loved anything else. Any fantasy he had of her in the past died right there in that instant.

All of the students looked, pointed and laughed at Yannis.

Again, she found herself wallowing in her humility and misfortune and it was all because she loved gum. Apparently, she loved it more than boys which even surprised her. She felt terrible. Was it the bane of her existence? Unable to see it that way, Yannis would defend gum to her last breath if coaxed to.

Noticing everyone’s expression, it took Yannis a moment to figure out what the problem even was. She stood amongst the laughter, open mouthed and dumbfounded. When she saw how disgusted her schoolmates were, it confused her. The gum in her mouth tasted so good. She considered offering the gum back to Steve for a second, but quickly thought better of it. He just wasn’t worth it. Instead, she shouted out the cleverest thing she could come up with. Hey! Where did you buy this gum?!

May 24th 2015

Sunday 3:00 pm

Outside the Basketball game, the bubble-gum girl weaved her way through the crowded school halls. She made a brief stop at her locker where she lifted out her longboard. Carrying it with her, Yannis continued to dodge students until she eventually met up with her best friend Coco.

Cracking her knuckles, few would guess Coco was a timid young lady with large curious eyes which were partially hidden behind glasses that seemed a little too large for her little face. She was carrying her longboard too. After slapping each other’s hands together in a high-five, they left the school and hop-skipped down the front stairs.

Coco liked to tie her dark hair back in braids that her mother decorated each day with small flowers of forget-me-nots. She claimed to have a psychic ability to read people; what they’ve done and what they’re going to do. With all the trouble she had proving her abilities no one actually believed her claims, though some even wanted to. Most of the time people were quite verbal about how her wide eyed stares creeped them out. As far as anyone was concerned, Coco’s psychic abilities were no more than a wishful fancy and a figment of her own imaginings.

From what she told Yannis, it was more than just an attempt to receive attention. She was good. She knew things about people. When these two schoolgirls giggled and whispered together, they were usually playing a little game between them. Coco would tell Yannis exactly what people would do before they did it. Hanging out at the lagoon by the beach, they would bet small change. But after a while, Coco was so good, she always won all the money. Coco suggested they play for candy or gum, but Yannis wouldn’t have it. They spent hours each day sitting on the bench watching tourists and talking about them. Coco seemed to know all about them and they were just strangers to her.

Coco was so clairvoyant she didn’t have to go looking for Yannis, she always knew when and where to find her and it was always when Yannis was in need of her most. The two of them rode their longboards and lazily made their way to the village bridge where the Agassiz-Rosedale Highway crosses the Miami River. The dry sound of their longboard wheels grinding against the pavement down the neighborhood drive became a common introduction to their arrival anywhere. It didn’t stop until they arrived at their usual destination. It was here they liked to hang out; under the bridge where they were invisible to the world. They had been coming to this little hide-away since they were children.

Yannis cried into Coco’s shoulder. What’s wrong with me? I’m such a loser… She sniffed and pulled back to look into her friend’s eyes. You have to do something. I know you have gifts and if I’m cursed, then lift it. Help me to hate gum. I don’t know why it has such a hold on me but it’s ruining my life!

Finding it challenging to refuse compliance with her best friend’s wishes, Coco calmly suggested. I’m sorry, Yannis. I don’t know how to help you. Can’t you just eat fruit? Maybe try smoking?

Yannis shrugged. Smoking?! If I’m this hooked on gum, what do you think I’d be like as a smoker? You don’t understand… I love Steve! Now he wouldn’t care if I jumped off this bridge.

This bridge? Coco tried to supress a giggle. Jumping off this little bridge wouldn’t hurt you. When she saw Yannis wasn’t laughing, she put her hand to her mouth and tried to stop. Still smirking, she said, Why don’t you try suckers or reading books? I’m sure you could develop an addiction to anything if you apply yourself.

No, Coco. I’ll just end up with more addictions. Yannis begrudgingly answered. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. You have any plans tonight?

Sure, I answered that flyer that was posted in the cafeteria about the Bigfoot seminar coming to town. Coco told her friend as she cracked her knuckles.

Yannis’ eyes grew wide and her mouth hung open in surprise. You didn’t! Yannis just gawked at her friend for a moment. I can’t believe you’d go to a Bigfoot seminar. Did you sign me up too?

"Of course not! I know you. You wouldn’t go for anything to do with a Bigfoot." She regarded her friend with a shamefaced sideways glance.

Oh, yeah totally. Sounds completely lame. Yannis concurred chewing her gum harder as she looked down at the floor.

Coco noticed Yannis was chewing her gum hard. ‘She’s upset?’ You’re jealous?! Coco boldly pried sharply.

Yannis folded her arms and turned away. She raised her nose childishly and stated. No, I am not! Even if you had asked me I would’ve proven to you, with all the tenacity I could muster, I didn’t want to go!

Right, I know. So why are you so upset about it?

I told you, I’m not! Yannis confirmed with a repugnant nod, but she was animated like she was covering up her fakery.

Knowing her best friend as well as she did, Coco teased. Oh, really? she began to tickle Yannis causing her chest to jiggle as she giggled.

They laughed like sisters until it annoyed Yannis and though she didn’t stop laughing, her teary tense cobalt eyes were clear.

Still, Coco wouldn’t let up, saying. You didn’t want to go? You didn’t want to go? If I asked you right now, would you go? Huh? Huh? Huh?

Yannis broke down laughing. She surrendered to her friend even though she was angry at her. Because she wanted Coco to stop tickling her, she admitted. Yes! Alright? If you had asked, I would’ve accepted your invitation.

Coco stopped harassing her friend and sat back. They were both breathing heavily, then Coco told her. Well, that settles it. I want you to go.

Are you sure? Yannis asked not wanting to impose.

We are best friends. We should do everything together. Leaning forward, she hugged Yannis again.

Like we’re stuck together with glue. Nothing can separate us! they giggled at the idea.

The two friends paused a moment just looking at one another, then they began laughing. How did you become a psychic? Yannis asked.

Are you serious? I told you, I didn’t become a psychic all of a sudden, one day. It has always been with me and I’m trying to do what I can to develop it. I see flashes of information. I believe everyone can do this if they knew what to look for. Unfortunately, the information I see passes by so fast, it would be easy for it to go unnoticed. She held her friend’s gaze a second too long. "Maybe you’re a psychic. Maybe we should look into the possibility in-depth together."

There’s no need. Yannis waved her off. I have a confession. I am a psychic too. I might be a little bit different, as far as psychics go, but I have abilities too. I’ve had this power my whole life too, like you.

Hey, stop teasing. You know how hard it’s been for me. I don’t need my best friend giving me a hard time now too. Coco said in a playfully scolding way.

Yannis could see she was getting to her friend. She pulled out a pack of gum from her pocket and offered a piece to Coco.

Coco took the piece of gum, unwrapped it and put it in her mouth. It was hard to chew at first, like it was made of cardboard, but it soon loosened up. She wondered how long it had taken up residence in Yannis’ pocket.

The bubble gum girl continued. "No, I’m serious. I’m not a psychic, but I can read people, it’s just not the same way you do. She took her friend by the hand and led her up the embankment so they could peek across the road from the bridge and look at the tourists of their village. You can learn a lot about someone by watching them chew gum. Yannis whispered and began pointing at various people they could see. There’s angry chewing, determined chewing, love chewing, relaxed chewing and happy chewing, which usually includes bubble blowing. A little boy popped his bubble of gum. Then there’s tired chewing, sad chewing and content chewing. You get the picture. I can tell you aren’t used to chewing gum, but you’re brave and strong, even though you don’t look it." Yannis chided her friend with a friendly nudge to her shoulder.

Coco laughed. You know, you really are a special friend. I sure am lucky to have you.

They hugged.

We’ve always been good friends and we always will, all three of us. Yannis told Coco. Yeah, the three of us. It seems so sad to say that now. Remember when it was the four of us? You, me, Kaden and Nathan?

Yes, but I think what you meant to say was we will always be good friends like Kaden and Nathan were, right? Coco asked.

You got it, sist’a. Kaden and Nathan sure were tight. I think that’s why we see so little of Kaden now, he must go off throughout the mountains searching for his best friend. That’s why we don’t see much of him anymore. Yannis hypothesized.

Hikers go missing all the time. They could be anywhere. By-the-way, where is Kaden? Coco wondered.

He’s been doing a lot of work outside school with a logging company. He’s with them right now I think. He heads out to that job right after school.

Chapter 2

The Axe-Man

May 24th 2015

Sunday 4:00 pm

DEEP IN THE STEEP, elevated mountains of B.C.’s flourishing coniferous forests. Under the green blanket in a world of shadows and lofty tree trunks came the sound of thumping. The foreboding reverberation rose like thunder and echoed down the mountainside.

It was loud enough that a logging crew’s foreman signalled the workers to shut down their chainsaws and other equipment. Turning toward the source of the sound, they detected something crashing through the woods. At first, the loggers thought it was the heartbeat of the mountain but as destructive, thundering sounds of trees breaking and earth rumbling engulfed the men, the fore-man said. It’s not a heartbeat! Those are the foot falls of something on two legs! Stand ready men! Whatever it is, it’s coming our way.

A flock of ravens exploded and dispersed from the tree tops, crowing like a hoard of cackling witches.

When the anticipation could rise no further, steel toed boots leaped out of the bushes and came down hard upon a rock precipice that jutted out high overhead. It wasn’t easy for the lumberjacks to see who it was under the shadows beyond the cathedral tall tree trunks.

The stocky young logger who stood upon it wasted no time hurdling himself off and cascading his way down from one boulder to the next.

Kaden! You stop that right now! I told you before, it’s too dangerous! shouted the commanding voice of the foreman.

Kaden didn’t listen. Springing to new moss covered boulders and over leaning dead trees, he continuing to scuttle his way down. He made traversing the whole distance, of about a hundred yards, look easy.

At the base of the steep rock wall the foreman sternly called. Get over here, Kaden! You’re impressing no one!

This wasn’t true. The other men couldn’t believe their eyes.

When Kaden approached the foreman, one of the other lumberjacks mentioned. Look, he’s been really spooked.

Kaden Axam. Someone cheered his name.

More like, the Axe-man if you ask me. He loves his axes. came a secondary snide remark.

Kaden’s eyes were wide with terror as he marched right up next to his boss and turned to point into the dark distant shadows of the forest. You see it?

What? answered the foreman, jerking his head up.

All of the other jacks turned and peered into the forest also.

Just there! I’m pointing right at it. His eyes are looking right at us. Kaden told him with a nervous and shaky undertone.

They tried to look harder. I don’t see jack shit out there! It’s too dark. What did you see, Kaden?

A creature, maybe a wild animal.

So which is it, a creature, or a wild animal? The foreman eyed Kaden like he was a child.

The forest was silent. Unnaturally, dead silent.

The foreman turned to address the lumberjacks. Everybody back to work! You’re paid by the hour, not for a tea party. Now show me you’ve earned it!

A sudden thunder of chainsaws roaring to life cutting through the silence.

Kaden could see the shadowy shoulders and head of an enormous Sasquatch in the distance. It placed its huge hands over its small ears and screamed to the sky, but for all its efforts, none of the men heard it. When the hairy biped turned with irritation and shuffled into the shadows, Kaden turned his attention back to his boss.

Kaden was a young man with a tall stalky build. His strong facial features included a slightly lower than average forehead, wide nose, high prominent cheekbones and the space between the bottom of his nose and his upper lip was slightly but noticeably wider than what you’d find in most people. He appeared aboriginal or eskimo, but along with his cinnamon hued skin, it wasn’t easy to pinpoint exactly where in the world he came from. He appeared to likely be a culmination of many nationalities. Not even Kaden knew exactly where his lineage originated.

Other than that, Kaden was a typical teen with the exuberance of youth sparkling in his dark eyes. Curly black locks dangled from his bushy hair.

Strapped to his upper back were two short handled axes. These handles extended up and out from Kaden’s shoulders. Custom leather casings secured them in place with leather straps tied securely around his shoulders.

Look, I don’t care if you’re new here. You know my policy on any bigfoot talk out here. I’ve lost too many men. It’s fine as a story, but don’t try to make it seem like a real thing. The foreman gave him the rundown. If you disobey me again or spook my men with your fears of the woods, I’ll drive you home myself and you’ll never be a part of this line of work again. Do I make myself clear?

Yes, Lou! Kaden gave him a stiff military affirmation. Then he reverently looked down.

Lowering his voice like he was trying to speak off the record, the foreman turned away from the others and asked. So, how did you manage to leap down that wall so fast anyhow?

Kaden looked up into his boss’s eyes. It was nothing, sir. I was raised in the woods. I do that sort’a thing all the time.

Well, here on the job, I expect you to be more safety minded. Don’t do it again… What were you doing way up there anyway?

You told me to only cut down eight inch timbers, so I was scouting them out. I was also lured by a strange sound, it dazed me somehow and I ended up much further away than I intended. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. This isn’t the first time the wilderness called to me in its beleaguering far off voice. Kaden answered.

Well, see Arnold over there? I want you to buddy up with him for the rest of the day. The foreman instructed. "Arnold never pays attention to anything beleaguering." he chortled.

Sure thing, Lou. I won’t let you down again. Kaden marched over to Arnold and took a position about ten meters away. Pulling his Axes from their leather holders at his upper back, he began chopping at trees. Impressively fast and efficient, Kaden was exceptionally skilled when it came to his axe handling. To chop double handed was something none of the other lumberjacks had ever seen before.

Arnold shot a look back at Lou. That was when Arnold realized he had been buddied up. Hey! Why do you always send the newbies to me?! Why can’t Sly take one once and a while?! he hollered.

Sly turned his chain saw off and looked up. "Oh, brother. Here we go again. Lou!