Bigfoot

When the sun went down, a family of Sasquatches grabbed giant boulders and pulverized the cabin, killing everyone inside. I remember thinking to myself, “I hope I never accidently stumble onto Bigfoot’s land because he’ll heave boulders the size of cars at me, crushing me in seconds unless I have the quickness to dodge them.”

My animal avoidance skill level is at an all-time high, managing to stay a foot or two ahead of Super Rooster, who wanted nothing more than to peck my head off and spur me to death. I consider this for a few minutes and believe that I have a fighting chance of surviving Bigfoot and his heaved boulders.

I wonder if there is any reasoning with the Bigfoot clan or did they despise you on sight the way our rooster did? It’s hard to say with tall, strong apes that walk upright like people.

Mom says in a very serious tone, “I rebuke Bigfoot in the name of the Lord! Shalukkahaadeia! Thank you, Jesus!”

Everyone but Dad is looking out the windows of our car, staring up at the dark mountaintops for Bigfoot as we continue driving. A rock falls and rolls down the side of the mountain, stopping near the road ahead of us. It scares my sisters who both scream and I dig my fingertips into the back of the driver’s seat involuntarily. 

Dad says, “It’s just a falling boulder. Nobody threw it.”
I add, “Yeah, they're boulders. They fall. That’s what boulders do.”
Mom says, “I’m surprised they’d show a horror movie like that to kids.”

Dad’s an expert on most things and says, “You have to understand that these are mountain people and it’s perfectly normal for them, honey.”

I just hope that Bigfoot and family won’t mistake us for gold seekers. I mean, I’d like gold but I’m not willing to fight Bigfoot for it. We are just a family trying to survive. If it isn’t hobos, it’s Bigfoot.
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Fortunately, we made it home with nary a boulder thrown. We are safe for now in our Indian Museum home. We go to bed and pull the curtains on our windows to prevent Bigfoot from looking in on us as we sleep.