Beverley Green: Sasquatch Hunter: Book One of the Beverley Green Adventures by Andrea C. Neil

Author:Andrea C. Neil
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-09-03T22:00:00+00:00

Twelve

I left Hoboken shortly after Bill did. As I walked back toward my shop, I took a few deep breaths. It felt good to be in the fresh air and sunshine, especially after being told off by a crazy person. I wondered if he had meant “cross-examination” instead of “inquisition.” It was hard to tell for sure. It could have been a mistake, but I’d never been to court in Guthrie, so it was possible their legal system could be a bit more antiquated than I realized, resulting in unusual questioning procedures. At this point, nothing would surprise me about this place. I made a mental note to ask Kelly about the local legal inquisition system. It might make a great article series, once this Bigfoot stuff died down.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at having been told to “check my facts” while writing a Bigfoot sighting article. It definitely made me want to cry from having been accused, once again, of being an outsider. I wondered how long it would take me to become anything but, or if I ever would make it to the inner circle. I asked myself that question again. The one about why I moved here.

Even so, I just couldn’t stop wondering if there really was a Lady Sasquatch showing off her hairy high beams all over town. I tried to get this visual out of my head, but it had been floating around in there since Bill declared, in a roundabout way, the thing they had seen was a girl. Naked Sasquatch Lady. Definitely not an idea for a romance novel.

I took a little detour and went over to the Apothecary Garden on Oklahoma Avenue. Mrs. Karchner was there, pulling weeds by the lemongrass, and she gave me a little wave. I smiled and waved back, my faith in humanity somewhat restored. Maybe it was the friendly wave, or maybe it was the afternoon sun in that bright blue sky, but suddenly I felt a little more resolve and resolution. Suddenly I had a little more motivation, and I was more determined than ever to do whatever it took to make friends with those Guthrie residents who weren’t yet having any part of the Beverley Bandwagon. People like Leona, Al, and Bill. What was their problem, anyway? Just because they were old enough to remember how great things used to be, didn’t mean that things now were terrible, or couldn’t get better in the future. It’s like they were a gang or something, a gang of old-timers. The Guthrie Old-Timers. Yeah. I wondered how many more there were, whose crazy I hadn’t yet run into. I couldn’t wait to find out. Anyway, I was going to befriend those old-timers, come heck or high water. Or alternatively, I wouldn’t let them bother me anymore. I’d show them that it was all like water off a duck’s back.

Just then a fat, noisy Canadian goose flew overhead and dropped a poop present on the sidewalk right in front of me.

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