Devolution: A Firsthand Account of the Rainier Sasquatch Massacre(44)

*2 A 2007 study done by David Raichlen of the University of Arizona, Michael Sockol at the University of California, and Herman Pontzer from Washington University in St. Louis “indicate[s] that bipedalism in early, apelike hominins could indeed have been less costly than quadrupedal knucklewalking.”





    When the event occurred, Bauman was still a young man, and was trapping with a partner among the mountains dividing the forks of the Salmon from the head of Wisdom River. Not having had much luck, he and his partner determined to go up into a particularly wild and lonely pass through which ran a small stream said to contain many beaver. The pass had an evil reputation because the year before a solitary hunter who had wandered into it was there slain, seemingly by a wild beast, the half-eaten remains being afterwards found by some mining prospectors who had passed his camp only the night before.

—PRESIDENT THEODORE ROOSEVELT, The Wilderness Hunter





JOURNAL ENTRY #11


October 9

We think we have a bear. That was the consensus of the HOA meeting this morning. I went around before breakfast to knock on doors. I tried the Durants again. The same as last time. Vague TV glow from inside, the zzzzzp-zzzzzp of the elliptical. No voices this time though, and I am proud of myself for trying the doorbell. And when I got nothing, I even went around to their backyard. The curtains were drawn over their kitchen windows and doors. I rapped on the glass. I called their names. Again, no response. Mostar warned me not to get my hopes up. “They’re not leaving Elba.” But she didn’t explain why and warned me not to waste time wondering.

But how can I not? Are they embarrassed about being dethroned? Hiding in self-imposed exile because their fa?ade has been shattered. I guess that makes sense. The model and the salesman. Smoke and mirrors. I wonder.

Everyone else was receptive though. We all met at the Common House to discuss what happened last night. The Perkins-Forsters saw something too, from their bedroom window. They weren’t sure what though, a dark mass at the edge of their porch light. And Bobbi thinks she caught something moving through the trees. Reinhardt didn’t see anything. He was fast asleep. So was Mostar. At least we’d been right not to wake her up.

She shocked me at the meeting, what she said about a bear. Earlier, at the door, when we’d knocked to ask her about getting together, I’d told her what I’d seen. I used the word. I made it very clear. And she acknowledged it, at least with her body language. By her nod, her tone, I thought she believed me. So, you can imagine how I felt when I heard her say to the group, “Well, it sounds like we have a bear sniffing around.”

Before anyone could respond, she continued by adding that that’s all it could be. They’re the only animals tall enough to reach the tops of the apple trees. Didn’t everyone notice their remaining apples (the ones the deer didn’t get) were gone? I had, and I could tell that a few of the others had too. A lot of the fruit trees looked “vandalized.” I know there’s a better term for it, but so many of the top branches were snapped, the fruit picked clean. Squirrels couldn’t have done that kind of damage, and deer, even on their hind legs, couldn’t have reached that high. That was Mostar’s logic.

She also pointed out that, if anyone was considering raccoons, they might be smart enough to open the compost bins, but certainly aren’t strong enough to tear them from their foundations. Everyone seemed satisfied with that. And yes, for just a second, I found myself rethinking everything. I mean, bears are big and hairy. And they have no neck. And when they stand on their hind legs, can’t they get pretty tall? It all kind of made sense, and if Mostar was saying it, then maybe Dan and I were just freaking out for no reason. Actually, I was the only one who’d seen anything. I totally expected Dan to agree with Mostar.

But then he spoke up, asking about the tracks. Don’t bears have claws or something? I caught a look on Vincent’s face, his eyes hitting the floor. Had he already been thinking along those lines?

Reinhardt waved the idea away. “Do any of us really know what bear tracks look like in the wild? And isn’t it common for animal prints to change shape over time, grow and morph as the tracks melt then refreeze with passing days. I recall one incident back in Connecticut, when I saw week-old deer prints that looked like elephants had stampeded across my lawn.”

That worked on the room, the Boothes and Perkins-Forsters all nodding in agreement. I noticed that Palomino was looking at Mostar, who, again to my surprise, was openly complimenting Reinhardt on his “astute explanation.” Palomino looked as puzzled as I felt. I shot Dan a WTF glance and he responded by addressing the crowd.

“Yeah, but we’re not talking about snow here. Ash doesn’t melt and refreeze. And even if time or wind or whatever could morph them into something else, these tracks are so fresh you can see every…”

And suddenly his words trailed off. I didn’t understand why at first. I glanced at him. Then I saw that he was looking directly at Mostar. Her eyes were maybe a millimeter wider than normal, and that shake of her head, I don’t think anyone else noticed it. All eyes were still on Dan. He just sighed, shrugged, and said, “But…yeah…now that I’m, like, actually saying it all out loud, you’re right, I don’t know what bear tracks look like. Sorry, I’m just really tired.”

Reinhardt gave a condescending, “Of course, of course,” and bowed his head in mock magnanimity.