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“Yeah, well, you seemed a lot stalkier.”
Underbrush crackles and I move closer to my giant protector. “I’m just curious. Are you hiding from something? Is the costume protecting you in some way from your fear of the real world? Are you actually on sabbatical or—” I shut my mouth because asking the man if he’s hiding from the law seems rude.
“It’s nothing like that. My aunt is Lorraine Gibson.”
“No.” I’m so surprised, I stop walking for a moment. “Lorraine, who owns the general store in town?”
“That’s her. I spent every summer with her growing up.”
“Oh.” A few things click into place. “I guess that makes sense.”
The trail narrows, and he falls back, letting me take the lead. I can handle the lead. I just have to follow a narrow dirt trail. Probably nothing’s going to jump out and grab me and, if it does, being in the back would be equally dangerous.
“What makes sense?” Mac’s giving me space I don’t want. I mean, it’s nice he’s not stepping on my heels since I’m sure I’m slower than he’d like to be, but I’d like it better if he could literally have my back.
I glance over my shoulder to see he’s, like, two people-sized spaces behind me. I gesture at him. “Walk closer. They can pick us off if we’re too far apart.”
He chuckles, but closes the distant between us. “Who’s they?”
“Bears, wildcats, really gigantic spiders. Whatever monsters live out here.”
“I’ll protect you, don’t worry. No one messes with Bert.”
“Your alter ego.”
“Whatever.” He huffs. “What did you mean about my aunt when you said, ‘it makes sense?’”
I shrug. “Just that I can see how she’d have a nephew who created an alter ego named Bert the Bigfoot to scare tourists and small children.”
“Are you saying my aunt is a weirdo?”
I smile, thinking of Lorraine. She’s got unnaturally red hair, obviously dyed, and an easy laugh. She’s the bright spot of my day any time she comes into the diner, but most people would say she’s eccentric only if they were in a kind-hearted mood. “My favorite people are weirdos. It’s not a bad thing.”
“So there’s hope a guy who dresses up as Bigfoot could be your friend some day?”
“Kind of depends on the reasons for this weirdness. If you’re afraid of going outside as Mac Skillworth, I can probably work with that. If you believe deep down in your marrow you actually are Bigfoot…” I glance back at him. “I’m not sure I can trust you not to tie me up in your basement as a sacrifice to your Bigfoot god.”
“If I was going to sacrifice you to the big furry bringer of light, don’t you think I’d have done it already?”
I’d mostly been joking, but his words throw me so completely I trip over my own feet and something soft brushes against my cheek.
I shriek and throw my hands up, warding off whatever large, flying creature is attacking. It flings itself at my arms and I rush up the trail to escape.
Furry arms grab me around my middle and lift me off my feet. I scream and struggle.
“Honey, calm down.”
I relax a bit when I realize it’s Mac holding me and not a giant version of a bumblebee. “Don’t let it get us. We have to run.”
“Honey,” Mac says slowly. “You’re running from a tree branch.”
He must not have seen the bug. “I felt it. It was soft and fluttery. Branches don’t feel like that.”
He spins with me in his arms and carries me over to several low-hanging branches with some sort of feathery leaves on them. He sets me on my feet and runs his fingers over the leaves. “This is what you felt.”
“I think I know the difference…” I reach up and brush my fingers over the leaves. “Oh. Yeah. This is what I felt.”
“It’s my fault. I scared you with that stupid thing about the big furry god.”
