With July 4th coming up, Spielburton had his film crew set up at Bear Butt Hole. He knew Bigfoot to be wary and elusive, so cameras were hidden in fake hot dogs and apple pies. It was fool-proof.
On the holiday, noisy crowds gathered at the hole. Terrified, Bigfoot tip-toed past families, and waded into the cold water. He was agoraphobic and scared of drowning, but mostly, afraid of being laughed at. He didn’t wish to be seen, shy and hairy as he was. He’d never learned to swim.
No one noticed him. How foolish, his fears! Then his foot slipped, his head went under. Sputtering, gurgling, he thrashed to the surface. He was swimming!
No one laughed. They were all screaming and running away.
Someone shouted, "Bear!" Bigfoot glowed at the misnomer, for bears were expert swimmers.
As Bigfoot backstroked across calm waves, he realized fear was much like a bear. One could feed it or ignore it. From this day on, he would ignore. Perhaps next year he’d swim Tahoe, or even surf the Pacific. If anyone wanted his photo, he’d pose. With grace and conviviality.
Spielburton’s cameras never captured these moments. Bears ate the film.
Keri Gardner lives in Birmingham, Alabama. She has just completed her first novel, Songs of Earth. She paints animal portraits.
© 2007 Keri Gardner. Original for CCF (Gardner grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).
Printer page
Email article
Top of Page
