The Bigfoot Files by Lindsay Eagar

Author:Lindsay Eagar [Eagar, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781536204148
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2018-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

Miranda cracked open one eye.

How late had she stayed up studying? She’d left her lamp on, and the sunlight streamed past her curtains, bathing her room in a soft, early morning wisteria light . . .

She closed the eye, pressed the heels of her hands into the sockets of her skull; she hadn’t had such a vivid dream in ages. And it had been months since she’d dreamed about Emma.

Something fluttered near Miranda’s head and with a jolt, she was wide awake.

A fat, gray partridge was flying straight at her; it veered away at the last second.

“Mom!” Miranda screamed. Her nails dug into the flesh of the tree for balance; the dampness made her fingertips slide, so she grasped for leaves, pine needles, flowers, anything.

“Bean?” Kat ran through the ferns, her hair freshly twisted into two knobs above her ears. “What’s wrong?”

“Help!” The bird dove for Miranda again, and she shrieked. Scaly talons gouged at her hair, the beat of wings against her ears. “I’m being attacked!”

Kat circled around the trunk. “I see her nest! You’re blocking it.”

Miranda scampered away from the territorial bird, down the branch, and into a clump of dogwood. A squirrel darted past her, chittering angrily as it climbed up the Sitka’s mottled trunk.

“Where were you?” she demanded of Kat, her head still as foggy as the morning air around her. “Why weren’t you there when I woke up?”

“I had to pee, Bean, I’m sorry — I was bursting.” Kat extended a hand, but Miranda ignored the offer and got to her feet alone.

“Well, would it have killed you to tell me first?” She stepped out of the bushes and attempted to brush the smudge of mud off her clothes, arching her sore, stiff back.

Kat was studying her, and for a moment Miranda was startled; her mother looked so much like an actual zoologist carefully observing a new species. Then she realized that made her the animal under inspection, and she glared. “What?”

“Did I do something wrong? I mean, other than leave you alone in the tree for one minute?” Kat’s eyes, behind her glasses, projected hope the color of sunshine.

You made my best friend smell poop — Miranda couldn’t say it, because how ridiculous was it for her to be mad at Kat for something that had happened months ago?

“Sorry,” she muttered, “just tired.”

Miranda closed her eyes and inhaled, and tried to push the dregs of the dream out with her exhale. Was it the forest that had done it? Seized the memory from her brain and pulled until it was taut enough to pluck and vibrate and course through her entire body?

In a final gasp she saw it again, the look on Emma’s face when Kat had waved the open bags of scat in front of them — and the pinprick of anger expanded within her. She couldn’t wait until they got to the Critter Mobile and drove back to Moon Creek to pack their things. It was Sunday, and they’d done what they came for — they’d searched the area for evidence, and they’d found nothing.

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