Page 61 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
I grab my phone, pick the social media app where I have the most followers, and tap the button to go live. The screen shifts, and then my face takes up the screen. Notifications pop up on the bottom of the feed with people joining the stream. I set the phone on the table so it rests at a better angle and I can see Mabel’s stonebeside it as I talk.
It also lets me see the crocheted version of her that Trevor and I propped up next to a plant on the kitchen windowsill.
“Hi, everyone. I’ll wait for another minute as more people are coming in, but I want to address the reason I deleted my most recent podcast episode. The one about Cryptid Night held here in Maplewood, Vermont earlier this month. The investigation and stories centered around reports of a slew of cryptids new to Maplewood.”
More people join the stream, and comments about the episode and questions about what’s happening fly in one after the next.
The dogs bark a second before the doorbell rings. Trevor’s voice, quieting them, is followed by the sound of the door opening.
My heart’s pounding and the fluttering in my stomach expands to a tremble in my hands. “Today, I learned those sightings were made up. I investigate and research under the belief that the stories and sightings people share with me are genuine. Clearly, that’s not the case with the Cryptid Night creatures. So I deleted the episode.”
The comments explode with people asking how I learned the stories were fake.
I blow out a breath. “I’ll record an episode with more details and a longer explanation, but didn’t want to wait on talking to you about what happened, or telling you why the episode was taken down. You know I don’t do fakes. I’d never waste my time or yours that way.”
Two sets of footsteps head toward the kitchen. Trevor comes in first, and whispers, “I’m sorry.”
He points over his shoulder. Agnes is behind him, wearing all black and the most contrite expression I’ve ever seen on her.
She skirts past Trevor and meets me with her hands clasped in front of her. “I clean up my messes, and want to make things right.”
Frustration at her, and at the situation she caused, flashes hot and bright. “I’m in the middle of a video about that mess right now.”
“Trevor said that when he answered the door. I’ll help.” She pulls out a chair and sits beside me, then waves at our images on the screen. “Hello, everyone. I’m Bram’s aunt, Agnes Peabody.”
A fresh wave of stress crashes over me. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Agnes, this isn’t…”
“The new cryptids in Maplewood were my invention. I concocted the whole plan as a way to get my nephew to Maplewood, so he and his best friend would spend time together and realize they were in love.”
“Agnes…” The warning in my voice doesn’t faze her. I’ve lost control of the situation. Short of grabbing my phone and ending the feed, what can I do? Asking her to leave while we’re on camera would be rude.
Her gaze scans the comments popping up. “Yes, MonsterHunter99, they were entirely my creation. I got the idea because my friend who is a real estate agent dressed as a Yeti in promotional photos for a remote cabin he’d listed.”
I gape at her. “Seriously?”
She shrugs. “It worked for him. The place sold.”
“Wow.” Just… wow. She’s unbelievable.
In the corner of my vision, Trevor leaves the room with Bandit trailing behind him.
Agnes’s attention returns to the screen. “Hello, MaybeInMaplewood, I guess you could say I was playing Maplewood Matchmaker. And I convinced my friends to go along with my scheme. We kept Bram and Trevor in the dark about everything.”
A new comment that pops up catches my attention.
OhTheHorror: Agnes creating an epicruse to bring two people together makes me wish I had an Aunt Agnes in my life. Agnes, adopt me!
I shake my head at that one. But it makes me smile too.
Agnes presses her hand over her heart. “I realize now that the way I went about things wasn’t ideal. I’m sorry if my actions, and those of my friends, have resulted in casting any doubts about Bram’s integrity.”
Most of the new comments rolling in now are from people telling Agnes they understand.
SasquatchWatch: I always thought you were legit, Bram. Glad to see that’s true. Thanks for addressing the speculation, and for the classy way you handled this. I hope people realize the extent of the damage hoaxes can cause.
A lot of these people have been with me from the beginning. Knowing they believe me helps so much. Some of my stress withers away as hope flutters in my chest. “Thanks for the support, everyone. The only thing I can do is what I’ve been doing, which is talking to people, hearing their stories, doing as much research as possible, and debunking sightings when other explanations are more likely. Relationships and interactions are built on trust. I appreciate the trust you’ve placed in me.”
There will still be people who learn about the hoax and think I was in on it and that I’m only making this now because we somehow got caught. Squeezing the stone Mabel gave me, I try to push that worry away. I can’t do anything about those people. Hopefully, enough will believe me.
