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I press my ear to the bathroom door, but I don't hear a sound from the bedroom. "Maybe I scared him and he left?"
"Let's give it a few minutes." Clover presses her ear against the door next to me and we wait, our breathing falling into a synchronized rhythm.
When we still hear nothing, I step away. "You stay in here with the door shut, I'm going to see if he left. Maybe I scared him as much as he scared me."
Clover steps farther into the bathroom. "Be careful."
I open the door a crack and peek out, but I don't see anything. I don't hear anything either. Are Bigfoots silent? It's not like anyone has ever been able to study them.
When a few moments go by and there's still no sign of Bigfoot, I open the door all the way and step into the bedroom. No sound and no sign of Bigfoot.
Step by slow step, I cross the room to the closet and let out a small shriek when I see Bigfoot still standing there, looking like he hasn't moved at all.
"Are you okay?" Clover flies out of the bathroom, a roll of toilet paper in each hand. "What happened?"
Bigfoot doesn't react to Clover's approach. He just stands there, staring.
"Oh." Clover steps up next to me and we stare at Bigfoot together. There's no rise and fall of his chest. He doesn't even blink.
"Is it a giant Bigfoot doll or does Bigfoot play dead when he's frightened?"
"It's okay, Bigfoot," Clover says in a soft voice. "We don't want to hurt you."
I take a step into the closet, but Clover grabs my arm and pulls me back.
"We don't want to block his only exit and scare him."
"I don't think he's real," I say. "If Bigfoot froze every time he was scared, he would have been caught decades ago." I try to sound more confident than I feel.
"Good point. Just go slow. No sudden movements."
I take my time, creeping farther into the closet, step by slow step. When I'm standing toe to toe with Bigfoot and he still hasn't moved, I see that his eyes might look real from a distance, but they're empty. "It's a costume."
"No." Clover hurries up next to me and pokes Bigfoot. "It is a costume." She swats my arm. "Asher. Jaxon is Bigfoot."
I turn and stare at her. "Why the hell would a pop star worth millions of dollars dress up as Bigfoot and wander around the woods of Catalpa Creek?"
"I bet it's a better reason than you've got for being naked in my closet," a deep voice says.
I scream for the fourth time today and shove Clover behind me. I'm getting really sick and tired of having the bejesus scared out of me.
Standing in the doorway to the closet is a man with purple hair buzzed close to his scalp, wearing a t-shirt and worn jeans. His hands are in his pockets like he's relaxed.
I don't see any sign of a gun.
"Oh, my God," Clover says, peeking around me. "Jaxon. I love your music. I'm so sorry we intruded. We got lost in the woods."
"Sure you did," he says. "What I want to know is how you found me."
I hold up my hands. "She's not lying. We were—"
Jaxon winces and covers his eyes. "I can't talk to you like this. There's a bag of clothes I was planning to give to charity behind the Bigfoot costume, find something in there to wear and meet me downstairs."
"Sure. Thanks, man," I say.
"If you're not downstairs in five minutes, I'm calling the cops."
"We'll be down in three," Clover, ever competitive, yells after him.
