Baby Ray loved stationing himself in front of the sliding glass door early mornings chewing his buttered toast. He’d stand up and then fall back on his padded diaper, leaving long buttery finger marks on the glass. He’d never tire of up and down until the toast was all eaten. Often he’d waddle back into the kitchen, pleading with huge smiles for more toast.
Baby Ray is thirteen months old. On the other side of the sliding glass door is a rustic wood deck. From where Baby Ray stands, he can see to the edge of the dark woods at the end of the fenced yard. His puppy dog often yelps and barks and licks at the buttered toast Baby Ray smashes against the glass.
This morning, with Baby Ray’s happy baby laughter and the puppy’s barks, whines and yelps, Baby Ray’s mother did not hear the fence rails when they shattered. One post was pulled from the wet ground and flung in the direction of the chicken house. Crash! Boom!
But she did feel the deck shake when a huge dark form stepped one huge foot and then another onto the flimsily constructed wood deck. Next, a bigger even, crash boom when the hairy animal, Baby Ray’s mother thought a bear, broke through the deck. Baby Ray waved his plump arms, laughed and giggled. He laughed so hard he dropped his buttered toast. He teetered and fell down on the buttery mess. It now was stuck to the back of his diaper.
Baby Ray’s mother laughed at her bare topped little boy with the buttery toast stuck firmly to the back of his diaper. From where Baby Ray’s mother stood she could see the bear, now fighting to free himself from the porch. As he pulled himself up, Baby Ray’s puppy snapped at one of the animal’s huge feet. A big hand brushed the little dog off the porch. Baby Ray cried out for his puppy’s safety.
Baby Ray’s mother scooped him up and held him tight. Baby Ray twisted around to keep watching the animal free himself. Another huge foot shot from the hole in the deck. Next the animal was on his knees crawling toward the edge of the deck.
Such large feet, Baby Ray’s mother thought to herself, and large hands. The animal has hands!
The animal now stood upright. Baby Ray’s mother could not see his head. The roof of the deck hung too low, not allowing her to see it. In just a few long steps the animal disappeared into the dark woods. But, Baby Ray’s mother got a good look at the animal. It was a bigfoot! And for a certainty there would be footprints in the wet yard.
Baby Ray’s father would enjoy this story. He didn’t believe in bigfoot, but with the big hole in the deck and footprints, he’d be a believer now, Baby Ray’s mother thought to herself.
Baby Ray’s mother pulled the buttery toast from the front of her blouse where she’d held Baby Ray tight. She cleaned the butter smears from the glass door and then snapped shut the blinds. Several times that day she lifted the edge of a blind and searched the yard for the bigfoot. It was one of the longest days of her life, waiting for her husband to return from work.