Untitled Nessie Story - Chapter 1

The beginning. Yup. Do you think anybody would be interested in reading more if I continued?

Chapter 1

 BIGFOOT CAPTURED IN UNITED STATES

 

            The old man stared at the headline, not wanting to move or even breathe. It wasn’t that this was unexpected – he had been telling everyone for years that these creatures existed. But in their seeing-is-believing attitude, nobody paid him any attention. Never mind the fact that he had devoted his whole life to the study of these creatures, the ones that many said were invisible, imaginary.

            He thought of his recent trip to Russia, where he had waited for hours in his tent, wrapped in a cold blanket, waiting for any sign at all of his beast. He drifted off to sleep at about midnight, but a couple of hours later, he awoke to a terrifying grunt and a crack outside. Intrigued, he took his camera and notebook, and slowly unzipping the door of the tent, peered outside.

            Any thing that had been there a moment ago was gone now. Only a few foot prints leading into the forest were left for him to worship. He craned his neck around, and saw that his cooler had been tipped over and ransacked. He stepped out to check things over, and, not surprisingly, nothing had actually been taken. The man smiled, took a picture of the mess and footprints, recorded some notes, and crept happily back inside the tent.

            He remembered the ridicule he had suffered the next day. “It was probably a bear,” most said. Others attempted to blame a tiger (although anyone who studied animals should have known that no tigers lived in the region), claiming that his quick movements may have given the footprints an odd shape. The man simply ignored them – nobody ever took cryptozoologists seriously. It wasn’t real science, they said.

            Well, if that was what they thought, good for them.

            But today, here he was, reading about how his ridiculous pastime had actually paid off. Let’s see them make fools of us now…

            Finally he pried himself from the newspaper and leaned over to turn on the radio. He found the news station and listened. The reception was bad, but that didn’t matter. Perfect – just in time.

            “New species… primate… legendary Bigfoot… found in… Southern Texas… studies by… Riley T-arr-ing…”

            It’s pronounced like Torring, moron…Torring, with an O… Riley Tauring had had his name mispronounced and misspelled on many occasions – but no matter how many times he corrected them, no one ever got it right. Tauring scoffed. They’d never mispronounce Einstein’s name…

            Tauring turned off the radio and stared outside. He loved being out here on Loch Ness, in his small boat. It was one of the quietest places on earth, except for birds, and the occasional movement of water…

            Ah. But that occasional movement was just what he was here for. He wowed them with the discovery of Bigfoot, and he knew what was next. The great Loch Ness Monster was here, practically waiting for him with open arms. (Or fins?) Now that they had seen Bigfoot, it wouldn’t be long before a hundred corporations offered to sponsor his great search of the Loch Ness. It wouldn’t be long before he abandoned this disastrous little boat that swayed and shook a little too much for a nice big one, with a working radio, a toilet that actually flushed, and… maybe even a sonar system. He’d have dozens of crew members just as sane as he was, and together they’d find Nessie.

            Tauring smiled, thinking about the great monster. He knew it would be long, very, very long… with over half the length belonging to the neck! Maybe skin like an elephant, or a seal? It would have to be brown or grey, to match the water, because it was so brilliant at disguising itself and hiding in the murky, wasted lake. Oh, how nice it would be to get off of this tiny boat and trade his notebook for a laptop, to spend hours studying the captive monster in an enclosure as small as he liked, watching every move it made …

            Suddenly, the boat began to rock more quickly from side to side, even worse than usual. It swayed back and forth, rocking to a quiet rhythm. Tauring froze, but only for a moment; it seemed as if his chest seized itself on one heartbeat. His determination shook his heart back to life and he rushed outside. As he stepped out onto the deck, he saw a muddy brown, rigid hump sink slowly into the water, causing it to ripple like a dozen stones had been cast into its spot. “Oh my God… Oh my God…” He stood petrified – if he went in to get the camera, he’s miss it… so he just watched.

            Those few seconds felt like hours, and nothing in the world was more wonderful than that dirty back crawling back into the water. Finally, when the water went still again, he felt able to move. He whisked himself inside, scrambled down some notes, and then, smiling, went back to his couch. Tauring laid his head down and thought about the rest of the day.

            In a while he’d be forced to dock his boat and pick up his grandson at the airport. It wasn’t really that that he didn’t want the boy there – in fact, he was looking forward to it, somewhat. Tauring hadn’t seen him in quite a few years, and – more importantly – every time he’d seen him, the kid’s parents were with him.

It was funny how the presence of one’s parents could mutate the personality. Growing up, he’d been such a happy, outgoing child, especially when he was allowed to stay with Tauring for the weekend at his old ranch in Montana. He too was awed by the several supposed Nessie pictures, the ceramic copies of Bigfoot prints, and old magazine articles about the coyote-like chupacabra. He squealed with excitement when it was time for them to hunt for Bigfoot – venturing through the thick woods on Tauring’s property for hours, stopping once to eat and take a rest. Back then Tauring had horses too, old Quarter horses, and sometimes they’d take them along. Tauring chuckled as he remembered his grandson’s obsession with counting the trees that they passed along the way. He would point and count aloud, taking notice of every evergreen and oak, and sometime seven bushes or flowers if he felt them to be “up to his standards.”

But then his family moved to North Carolina, way from his grandfather and his embarrassing “hobby,” and Tauring moved to the village of Whitebridge in Scotland. His time with his grandson almost disappeared, and soon he was a teenager with friends and a car who was never home. Tauring offered several times to let the boy come and stay with him in Whitebridge, and his parents always said they’d see. But his parents probably never actually told him, Tauring knew. They didn’t respect his work, and they didn’t want him contaminating their son. They didn’t want him to be a failure like his grandfather, and living on the southeastern shore of the Loch Ness would surely set him on the path to failure.

Which is why he was so surprised to hear that his grandson now wanted to spend the summer with him. It wasn’t his parents’ idea of course, and when he talked to his son he could hear the disdain in his voice.

“He wants to go up this summer, Dad, but I told him he shouldn’t burden you.”

“He wouldn’t bother me! I’d love to have Rod up –”

“It’s just an excuse to not think about school. He doesn’t understand what hell he’s put himself into. I mean, I’m just grateful that he even graduated. He doesn’t want to go off to school, and so he thinks he doesn’t have to… it’s disgraceful. Do you know what that’s like, as a parent to, to have your kid not want to get a f*****g higher education?” He yelled, and Tauring knew he should have just agreed with him, but he couldn’t.

“Bill, college really isn’t for everyone… it’s not the end of the world if he doesn’t want to go…”

“Damn it Dad, yes it is. Maybe you’re fine in your little farm land, but here in US you can’t do anything with a college degree! High school diplomas are about as useful now a days as Easy Bake ovens, Dad, don’t you get it? They’re worthless!”

“Well,” Tauring replied, trying to keep his voice calm, “your sister made some lovely brownies with that oven when she was younger, if I do recall correctly…” He chuckled, and he could hear his son sigh over the phone. Tauring waited for a moment, and pitched his thought again. “Listen, letting him come up here for a few months doesn’t mean he won’t get a degree. He might even figure out what he wants to do… he just needs a break I bet. A lot of kids take ‘gap years’ these days, don’t they? Letting him take some time for himself might be the best thing you can do.”

“I mean, there’s not much I can do to stop him if he wants to go… he’s offered to pay for the trip and everything…”
            “No no, tell him not to worry about that, I can take care of it…”

“The money isn’t the problem… I don’t know what else to tell him.”

Tauring felt triumphant, and felt his ego rise just a bit higher. “Tell him he’s coming up in a couple weeks.”

The line was silent for a while. Tauring cleared his throat, and when the other line still sounded deserted, Tauring said “Bill? You there?” He could now hear muffled voices in the background, and Tauring assumed that he was speaking to his wife.

“What? Yeah, talking to Lauren. I guess we’ll make it work, then.”

Something gave way, and Tauring’s guard lifted. It had been such a long time since he’d seen him. A thought occurred to him. “Bill, why does he want to come up anyway?” Tauring’s guard fell lower… maybe his grandson hadn’t fallen to the brainwashing of his parents. Maybe he was interested in cryptozoology. Maybe…

“Lord, I don’t know… he just wants to get as far away from here as possible, and Scotland’s pretty far…” Tauring chuckled at this.

“That it is… can he handle a boat? We can go scouting on the Loch Ness sometime, I could teach him to-“

“He’s not into that, Dad.” Tauring stopped, and felt the guard get tense again. After a good pause, his son continued. “Sorry to disappoint, but he’s not going there for that… believe me.”

“Oh. Well… I mean, he used to enjoy it, so I just thought…”

“If it’s not a dog or a girl, he doesn’t care, trust me. He’s not following you.”

It was the way his son coldly and almost proudly spoke the last line. He’s not following you. He may not get a college degree, but at least he’s not going to wind up like you, a pathetic fairy tale chaser...

“Dad, I’ll call you back tomorrow. I’ve got another call. We’ll talk tomorrow, and get some details and stuff… thanks for letting him stay there.”

“Yep… bye…”

And that was it. The last time they talked had purely been about the details of the trip – when he was coming, when he would leave, what to bring… and Tauring hadn’t yet recovered. His son may have been lying, after all, when he said he wasn’t interested in his creatures anymore… or maybe he just didn’t know for sure. From the sound of it, the boy and his father didn’t sound like they had a close relationship. How would he know if the boy secretly harbored Nessie photos in his desk or visited the well known Bigfoot websites at night? With this in mind, Tauring was doing his best to look forward to the boy’s visit. He even drove the near by farm in his rarely driven black pick up to get the boy a gift, hoping it would be up to his standards. But he couldn’t help but wonder if he really forgotten, or just stopped caring…

The afternoon went by fairly quickly, and soon it was time to retrieve the boy. The Nessie sighting putting him in a better mood than he might have ordinarily been, he set off to the airport, praying his old car would make it.

Author's Note

Warning: Some mature language at times.