Page 5 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
I tilt the phone so Trevor gets a full view of the dog. “You sure you want a seventy-five-pound bundle of energy in your house?”
“I’m happy to have him. As long as you think he’ll get along with Bandit. Bandit’s really good with other dogs. Cats, not so much. We think there’s some trauma there from his previous home.”
“I can’t wait to meet the little guy. Hades will be fine with him.”
Focused on the screen, Hades halfway jumps, landing with his front paws digging into my thigh. His tail wagging, he pokes his head against my chest and pushes so he’s in the frame and can see Trevor.
Laughing, I prop the phone on my desk, out of the way of my arm getting bumped. “The worst thing my dog will do is love someone or something too much.”
Charlie wanders over and leans down, resting his arm on the back of my chair so he’s also in the frame. “He’s the friendliest guard dog, Trevor. Never met a person or animal he didn’t like.”
I groan, adjusting my goofball dog’s weight, and thinking of some of his more memorable encounters. “Skunks, squirrels, deer, pigeons, mail carriers, random strangers, family members, Hades acts like everyone he meets is his best friend.”
Hades barks like he’s in agreement.
Charlie stands and claps his hand on his thigh. “Come on, boy, I brought you something special from the bakery. Let’s go and get your treat.”
With a yip, Hades takes off for the kitchen. Charlie waves at Trevor, pats me on the shoulder, then walks out.
Without distraction, I let myself look at my friend on the screen. I miss spending time with him. A few short days a year, with a bunch of other people, isn’t enough. “I have a lot of questions about those other sightings. The suddenness of it, for one thing, is suspicious. My first guess is a hoax, someone dressing up or something.”
“When Agnes told us about the winged thing, I got the feeling she was more shaken up over it than she wanted to let on.”
“I’ll do as much as I can while I’m there.” I pick up a pen and jot down a couple of notes of things to ask Agnes about the sightings. “So, you’re good? Business is busy?”
“We’re fully booked up this week, so that’s nice. And I finished the bookshelf I started last month. I put it in the guest room, so you’ll see it while you’re here.” He’s a talented woodworker. His hands, and the corded forearms on display with the sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up, claim my attention.
During my years playing professional football, I was in countless locker rooms, saw a ton of bodies, but no one has ever captured my attention like Trevor. When he tookoff his shirt the first day of our group vacation to Italy in July, I nearly swallowed my tongue. He’s built. And I started noticing him in a way that I hadn’t before. Or, hadn’t let myself notice.
But he’s my oldest friend and my best friend. I don’t want to do anything that could mess that up.
Clearing my throat, I open my calendar app. “So, the event is the second Saturday in October?”
“Yeah.”
I note it. “I could come up the Saturday before it, and spend a week talking to people, doing research.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “A whole week?”
“Sure. My encounter with Mabel started off all the cryptid stuff for me. It’s about time I do a full episode on her.” Saying goodbye to playing football wasn’t easy, but stepping into my cryptid lore podcast, which allows me to embrace my other passion, has helped the transition to life away from the field. “I’ll do one on Mabel, and if there are enough stories of other encounters, like Agnes and the others have had, I’ll do a second episode focusing on those, and document the investigation. I can stay for as long as you’ll let me. Let’s plan on two weeks, could be less, depending on what we find.”
Trevor brings the phone close enough to his face that I can make out a small crumb at the corner of his mouth. I’m sure it’s left over from his afternoon pastry break. And I wonder what sweet treat he had today. The tip of my tongue slides over the same spot on my own lips as if I could somehow taste it.
“What should the event entail?” The smooth cadence of his voice shakes me out of daydreams of powdered sugar and flaky crusts on delectable lips. “I need to give a general outline to the Halloween festival committee and we need to start advertising as soon as possible.”
I give myself an internal shake and focus on the business athand. Ideas for how to do a search on Cryptid Night pop into my head. “We’ll spend the week getting stories. Then, the night of the event, we can start with a campfire, food, and then spread out in the woods and look for signs of cryptids. I’ll bring my equipment and send you a list of suggestions if people want to bring their own. At the end of the night, everyone meets up and shares their findings. I’ll analyze any evidence over the next week, maybe send whatever samples we find to a local vet, and we’ll release the results when the episode airs.”
“I’m glad we have you. Because I’m totally out of my depth with this.” He drags a hand through his hair and his shoulders bunch. “Agnes just sprang this on me, and…” he clamps his mouth shut and his eyes round with guilt.
Chuckling, I hold up my hand to stop him from feeling like he has to explain himself. “Dude, don’t worry. I know my aunt can be a force of nature.”
His shoulders relax and he smiles. “Thanks. You sure you have time to do this?”
“Definitely. I was planning on doing research on a few new legends in October and putting together my travel plans for next year.” A buzz of anticipation zips through me. It’s the same buzz I get when I start a new project, but this time there’s an added tingle that flutters in my stomach.
“You can do that here. If you want. You can record in my office or one of the other rooms.”
It’s been years since I’ve been to his house. Twenty-five years since I left Maplewood at seventeen. It’s long past time for me to go back. The best thing about Maplewood was Trevor.
