The Bigfoot’s Baby

275052-cryptozoology-bigfoot-wallpaper

Deep into the Okefenokee swamp a race of creatures have lived undiscovered by mankind for 6,000 years.

Somewhere in the peat-filled wetland straddling the Georgia-Florida line, they’ve managed to survive against all predators, living in crude shelters made from mud and sticks.

The creatures called themselves the Ibi. The males average height is eight-feet tall. The females average seven feet. They all have extremely large hands and feet and are heavily muscled. They’re also all covered in hair from head-to-foot.

Over the eons when a human ran across one of the Ibi they called them names like Sasquatch, or Bigfoot. The Okefenokee Swamp is the largest swamp in America. To this day, no one has fully explored the roughly 700 miles of wilderness.

Not even the “Swampers” can lay claim to being masters of the Okefenokee. Due to the relative isolation where they live, modern-day Swampers, who are overwhelmingly of English ancestry, still use the same Elizabethan phrases and syntax that their ancestors in the colonial period brought from overseas.

They have their own world, and their own beliefs.

Abitha was busy gutting an alligator in her front yard when it swooped in and took her! The creature’s foul smell was overpowering as it held an enormous hand over her mouth and face. When she fainted it threw her over its shoulders and plodded away into the dense swamp’s interior.

Meanwhile her husband, Gideon, was in town having a few beers with his friends. As it grew dark he became hungry and parted ways with them.

“By your leave, gentlemen.”

When he got back to his shack his wife was nowhere to be found. A partly gutted alligator was spread out in the front yard. Abitha’s knife lay nearby. He studied the ground for tense minutes trying to read what happened.

“I’ll find her,” he stated with a cold certainty.

That night.

Abitha woke up and saw that she was inside a large crude mud and stick hut. On one side someone was laying down and moaning. Someone kneeled nearby making soothing sounds in the dimly lit space.

She realized that she was laying on a mat of dry grass. She was unharmed and not restrained. It seemed odd. Why was she brought here? The bulky shapes on the other side of the hut were huge.

She slowly sat up. One of the shapes moved over to her. “Hep!” it grunted and pointed to the other shape laying down. Whatever they were, they could communicate with her. She felt a sudden sigh of relief. She understood now why she was brought here.

She nodded her head affirmatively, and moved over to the reclining figure. It was quickly apparent that it was a female and she was in labor. Abitha’s instincts took over. She’d seen many a child born. Some with complications.

Positioning herself between the female’s legs she carefully examined the situation and discovered the baby was in the wrong position! She gritted her teeth and went about repositioning the child. The mother was apparently worn out and barely able to push.

After a short time she knew there was only one thing to do. She would have to perform a Cesarean procedure to save the infant and the mother. Something she only saw once. She turned to the other creature and said, “knife.”  It looked puzzled. She made a cutting motion and it caught on.

The hairy creature quickly disappeared and returned with a crude knife made from flint. She eyed it dubiously, but had no choice and took it. With time running out she made the cut and gripped the head of the baby, pulling her out and immediately clearing her airways.

She handled the hairy little bundle to the gentle giant waiting nearby, then cut the umbilical cord, and tied it into a knot.

The proud daddy, who she assumed he was, looked at her and said, “Ibi we. Las woman ere. She die. So do we. Gir born is good sign. Thak you.”

Anitha was exhausted and went back to the grass mat and fell asleep.

The next morning.

The creature led her back home and spoke one last time, “Ibis owe you much. No tell others. They come and kill us,” he said, sadly. He looked her in the eyes and she saw his gratitude.

Later that afternoon Gideon came back to the shack and was surprised to see her there.

“Wife!” he called out and embraced her. “What…?”

“I went for a walk yesterday and found myself turned around, dear husband,” she explained. “The good lord was with me, and I was able to find my way home.”

As It Stands, this is my version of a Bigfoot encounter.

The Noise Under Denny’s Bed

a1

He heard the noise again.

Something was under his bed scratching the wooden floor. In the dark silence of his bedroom, seven-year-old Denny shivered in fear. He wanted to pull the covers over his head, but then whatever was underneath his bed might jump out when he couldn’t see.

His terrified brown eyes held back tears. He couldn’t go wake Mom and Dad again another night. Three times was their limit apparently, because they told him to be a big boy, and there was nothing under his bed. They both looked numerous times in the last week and declared the area safe from monsters.

Then they explained to him that there was no such thing as monsters. It was his active imagination, his mother said. “There was nothing to be afraid of,” his father reassured him with a hug, and a pat on his curly brown hair.

Despite all of his parents reassurances, the thing was scratching the floor underneath his bed again the next night. He held his breath so it wouldn’t hear him. The scratching stopped and he heard strange grunting sounds. He exhaled dramatically and jumped off the bed.

He could see underneath his bed by the light cast from the nightlight plugged in on the other side. Nothing! There wasn’t anything there. No monster. He turned on the room light and got down on his knees and peered under the bed expecting to see some scratch marks. There weren’t any.

Reluctantly, he got up and turned off the room light. The nightlight cast a shadow across the floor when he went back to his bed. He laid down on top of the covers…listening. Finally, he fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion in the early morning hours.

The next morning Denny’s parents asked him how he slept?

“Good,” he yawned, as he sat down at the breakfast table.

“No noise under the bed?” his father asked between bites of French toast.

“Yeah, there was a noise…” his voiced trailed off.

“But you stayed in bed like a big boy,” his mother jumped in with her cheerful voice that she always used to compliment him in.

He smiled weakly, took his fork and speared a chunk of French toast that she had already cut up for him. It was a Saturday. No school. No work. Everyone went their separate way most of the day.

Denny played in the yard with his friend Alec who brought over a baseball to play catch. They threw the ball back and forth for hours while talking about sports. His mother worked in the front yard garden, pruning the rose bushes. His father was in the garage working on one of his wood projects.

After lunch the boys went back to playing catch when Denny miss-handled the ball and it hit a screened opening that led to a crawl space beneath the house. The screen was barely on when Denny peered into the blackness after picking the baseball up.

Alec ran over to him and got down on his knees.

“See anything?” he asked.

“Too dark.”

“Ever go underneath a house?” Alec asked.

“No.”

“I have. Our house. There were spiders all over the place.”

“Was that all? Was there anything else?” Denny prodded him.

“My mom’s cat. She needed me to go in and help get him out,” Alec replied.

“Nothing scary?”

“No…but it was hard to move around,” Alec said.

A scratching noise suddenly got both of the boys attention. It was coming from the opening. They both heard the rustling of a big body moving around and sensed movement in the darkness.

When grunting sounds broke the silence, both boys got up and ran screaming to the front yard. Denny’s mother calmed them down while his dad went to investigate.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, concern dripping from each word.

“There’s a monster under your house,” Alec claimed.

“We heard it!” an excited Denny backed him up.

“Nonsense! Come. Let’s have a look.

She led the boys back around the house to the opening and got down on all fours. Dad came crawling out with dirt on his shirt and a shred of cobweb clinging to his hair.

“Was anyone in there?” she asked him.

“No, but we could use some more insulation in there,” he said.

“Okay boys.. are you playing a prank on me?” she asked.

“No!” they cried out in unison.

She looked closely at each boy and shook her head. “I’m going back to my gardening. You boys find something else to do.”

The boys watched her leave.

“I’m going home,” Alec said.

“I heard something.

“I know,” Alec replied as he picked up his mitt and baseball. “See ya later.”

That night when Denny’s parents were sure he was asleep they went to the guest bedroom and opened a hidden trap door that led underneath the house. Denny’s dad lowered himself down and turned on his flashlight.

He could see the body was partly unbound and one arm was free. He would have to find something stronger to knock them out with – yet not kill them. Lately there’d been some mishaps. The duct tape around their mouths was working, but some victims managed to get an arm or leg loose from the rope tied around them while waiting to be transported.

No one stayed under the house for more than 48-hours. When the lab technicians came to collect their human guinea pigs it was always in the early morning when most people were sleeping.

The arrangement worked out well for the clandestine company, and Denny’s parents pocketbook. They planned to retire early. The extra money would mean they could do so in style.

They decided to solve Denny’s problem by moving into a new home, with it’s own basement. Denny loved his new room – the view out of the second story window was great – and he quit hearing the noises under his bed at night.

As It Stands, this tale is a social comment on what people will do to get rich these days.