Page 10

TREVOR

The last remnants of sunset, pink and orange hues, fade as the sun sinks below the trees covering the mountains.

Orange, yellow, and red color the leaves clinging to the trees, creating patches of warmth amid the dark green of the pine trees in the forest around us.

The evening is clear and cold, though the blazing campfire keeps us warm.

Spread out in a wide circle around the fire, wearing the reflective yellow safety vests we passed out to every Cryptid Night attendee along with their choice of flashlight or headlamp, locals and people from out of town enjoy hot chocolate, cider, hot dogs, and roasted marshmallows.

Over sixty people signed up for our event, so we had to call in reinforcements in the form of begging our friends to help out.

Sitting on a wide tree stump with Bram, I draw my roasting stick away from the flames. The marshmallows are more charred than I like, but I don’t want to waste them.

Bram, bundled into two of my plaid flannels under his leather jacket, a knit hat, and gloves, bumps my shoulder. “Here. We’ll trade. ”

He hands me a roasting stick with two golden brown marshmallows then takes the blackened ones from me.

The gesture makes my insides feel as gooey as the sugary treat. “Thanks.”

We eat our toasted marshmallows, leaning against each other, and the press of being shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh, is a thrill.

The sounds of the woods at night, the cold air, warm fire, and sharing snacks with Bram takes me back to so many memories of summers and autumns camping together.

Bram keeps smiling. Seeing him so happy and in his element makes everything seem lighter and brighter, and I’m glad I agreed to take this on.

Selling out all rooms at the mansion and the carriage house is a nice bonus.

For the past hour, people have shared stories of their cryptid encounters.

In a loud, clear voice, Agnes takes her turn, giving us a dramatic reenactment of her winged creature tale.

Eleanor, Lydia, Celia, and Rae are here too, as eccentric as always.

Of course, the five octogenarians are a crowd favorite.

Jo waves from her side of the fire where she’s sitting with Alex MacDougall. She’s in charge of leading one group. Ever and Dmitri agreed to head up another. And Bram and I will take the third.

He and I were busy this past week, meeting with people and documenting their cryptid stories, and mapping out the places where people claimed they had sightings.

We spent two afternoons and one rainy night gathering food and supplies for Cryptid Night.

And every night before we fall asleep, he tells me a story from his travels, some new and others I’ve heard before, sometimes in my bedroom like the first night and sometimes stretched out on the couches in the living room before we head upstairs.

It’s quickly becoming my favorite part of the day, but a tightness constricts my chest anytime I think of Bram leaving and going back to comforting myself with only recordings of his voice .

When Agnes finishes her story, Bram stands.

“Everyone, we’ll get started with the investigation in a few minutes.

Please finish your food and make sure you have the headlamps and flashlights you received when you arrived.

Trevor here,” he points to me, “will be making the rounds, so if you got here late and didn’t receive one, let him know. ”

Excited chatter starts up in all directions. I walk the perimeter, checking that everyone has headlamps and flashlights.

Helping pack up the food, Bram chats with Jason Zervudachi. His family owns Moon Meadows Maple Farm, where we’ve bought our maple syrup for as long as I can remember.

As I pass them, Jason says, “I swear I saw Mabel when I was seven or eight on the far side of the meadow at the northwestern edge of my family’s farm.”

So many people have had Mabel encounters, sometimes it feels like I’m the only Maplewoodian who has yet to see the cryptid. I hope I will one day.

Ever and Dmitri meet me on my second time around the fire. Ever tests his flashlight, turning it on, then off. “These were a good idea, instead of relying on people to bring their own.”

“The outdoor company that sponsors Bram’s podcast sent them, but the safety vests and first aid packs were Bram’s idea. Thanks again for stepping in. We couldn’t have pulled this off without help.”

Dmitri hefts the backpack we gave to the group leaders, which is filled with supplies from a first aid kit to bear spray. “Is anyone else worried about screwing up the safety procedures Bram drilled us on?”

“I am.” I raise my hand. “Bram’s so experienced. But things can still go wrong. And if something happens to him , I don’t want to mess up.”

Ever waves to Jake, Alaric, and Zach who are standing with Jo. “It’s good Jake’s here. I feel better having a paramedic around.”

“Me too.”

After tucking a water bottle into his pack, Dmitri steps closer to me and lowers his voice. “Do you think we’ll see anything? Over sixty people trooping through the woods isn’t going to be quiet.”

“Most animals should steer clear of us unless they’re curious.

I guess that’s also true for potential cryptids.

But with the number of people, we can cover a wider area, which is good for finding things like foot or paw prints, hair or scat, or evidence that something is feeding, like carcasses or bones. ”

He wrinkles his nose. “I’m not picking up any scat.”

“Same here. I don’t care if we have gloves and bags. I’m leaving that to other people.”

On the other side of the fire, Bram whistles, and the conversations quiet down.

He motions for everyone to gather closer together.

“Anyone who wants to wait here by the fire instead of heading into the woods is welcome to stay and monitor the feed from the trail cameras posted throughout the search area. Agnes and Eleanor will keep you company.”

Agnes waves to the crowd with both hands and Eleanor toasts everyone with her drink.

“We’ll meet up here at the end of the investigation.

For those investigating, if you were given a purple bracelet when you arrived, you’re in Jo’s group.

” Bram points her out and she raises her hand.

“Yellow bracelets, you’re with Ever and Dmitri.

” Ever and Dmitri wave to the group. “And green bracelets, you’re with Trevor and me.

Regardless of your group color, stay with a buddy, don’t go off alone.

We’ll see everyone back here at ten o’clock. ”

People applaud and cheer then break off, heading to the individual groups.

Our group has twenty people. I hop onto the tree stump so I can see everyone and they can see me.

“We’re covering the south side of the woods.

You can fan out and go at your own pace, but please don’t go off alone.

Group leaders are staying connected with each other.

If you want to try out calls or generate sounds, we can let the other groups know so those aren’t mistaken as possible evidence. ”

Bram nods. “We’ll share whatever findings we have back at the campfire. Let’s go, team green. Happy searching.”

Dry leaves and twigs crunch beneath our feet as we move between the trees.

In the absence of the campfire’s blaze, darkness blankets the forest. The beams from headlights and flashlights help, but even with them, tripping over uneven ground, a tree root, or log, and ending up with a twisted ankle or worse, is a possibility.

To the sound of crickets chirping and the occasional hoot of an owl, we study tree trunks for claw scratches or captured strands of hair and match depressions made in patches of dirt and mud to various animal paw prints.

The camera Bram gave me is in night vision mode, which gives everything a greenish hue. Sticking close to him, I slowly pan the trees, looking for movement or eye shine. “Do you think we’ll see Mabel?”

He scans the same area with his thermal camera. “The majority of the Mabel sightings have been between dawn and dusk. It’s later than that now, so I’m thinking not. But I guess it’s not impossible. Just like it’s not impossible for us to encounter a black bear this time of night.”

“That happened to some hikers last summer. They got lost, the sun went down, and they came too close to its den.” We climb over a fallen tree, then skirt around some small bushes.

I shudder at the thought of meeting a bear, even though I know we’re more likely to see weasels, fishers, foxes, owls, and bats.

“I hope we’ll find something to set Agnes’s mind at ease. ”

“She only had the general area of where she thought the winged thing swept into the woods.” Bram stops walking.

He grabs my arm and pulls me toward a large pine tree, giving us some privacy.

“I still wonder if she saw a great blue heron. They can hunt at night and have a wingspan of six or seven feet.”

“That makes sense. Seeing it at night could affect accurately judging the size.”

He stares at the star-studded sky beyond the tips of the towering pines and sighs.

“I don’t want to dismiss her. One thing I’ve learned is people want to be heard.

They’re more likely to accept my findings, even if it’s not what they were hoping for, if they feel like you’re taking them seriously.

” Lines of frustration fan out from his eyes.

“That’s why we need to investigate more. ”

The urge to smooth away that tension wells so strong, I need to act.

Careful of our equipment and his backpack, I wrap my arm around his shoulders and give him an encouraging squeeze.

“We will. The original plan was that you might be here for two weeks, so next week, when you’re not busy scripting and recording the podcast, we’ll go hunting. ”

The light emanating from our cameras catches his smile. “Thank you.”

Voices carry from members of the green team who think they’ve found a footprint.

I lower my arm and step back. “We better check that out.”

“Yeah.” He brushes his hand along my arm. “Let’s go.”

The section of dirt with the impression isn’t a clear print. Edges are muted and smaller paw prints of another animal’s tracks cross over it. Bram takes photos and a digital scan.

Another team member finds hairs caught on a low-hanging branch. We bag them, tag them, and photograph the spot. Seeing Bram in action, his thoroughness and attention to detail, should not be a turn-on. Yet here I am sporting a semi while my friend takes pictures from every angle.

“Team purple to team green, come in.” Jo’s voice echoes from the radio.

“Go for green.” Bram holds up his hand, waving for us to gather around him.

“One of my team wants to try a call.”

“We’re ready. Go for it.”

Soon, a screech pierces the air. We all wince, and I tug on my ear trying to silence the ringing. “That sounded more like a scream queen in a horror movie. I’ve never heard an animal sound like that.”

Bram pulls a small device out of his backpack. “This has recordings of all animals that are native to the area, so we could try a few of these calls and see what we get back.”

We radio Jo and Ever and let them know. Bram plays calls of various prey animals, and we wait in silence. I keep scanning the trees and ground.

In the far distance, a wolf howls.

On my camera, I pick up eye shine, low to the ground, and my pulse quickens. “I have something. I think it’s an animal. Keeps popping up then disappearing.”

The others gather around me. Bram returns his animal call device to his backpack, then comes over.

He rests his forearm on my shoulder and leans in, his focus on the screen.

Every cell in my body vibrates with the electricity of his nearness.

The air around us is thick with excitement, but to their credit, our group remains quiet and still.

Soon, a fox emerges from a bush, then freezes in his tracks.

Collectively, we release our breath. Mystery animal solved.

Bram checks the time on his hiking watch. “Okay, I’m gonna tell the others that we’re done with calls. We’ll still keep listening and watching as we explore.”

He slides his forearm along my shoulder until his hand clasps the curve, and he keeps it there, connecting us, as he radios the other groups. I soak up every second of contact, of closeness, of the way his body angles toward mine.

After he finishes, and gives our group the signal, we venture deeper into the woods.

The landscape is rougher here. Trees are closer together, there are dens and caves and cliffs that have deep drops.

And we’re doing this in the dark. The night vision camera helps take away some of the unknowns, but staying close to Bram is where I feel safest. Happiest, too.

We come to a massive tree, cracked down the middle, across a shallow creek. The rocks on either side look shiny and slippery. To say I’m not confident about crossing it would be an understatement.

Bram scrambles up and over it. Then turns to me. “Okay?”

“What if it doesn’t support me?”

“I will.” He extends his hand, palm open and facing up. “I’ve got you.”

My heartbeat ticking faster, I place my hand in his. The tree creaks with my step on the weathered bark, but Bram hauls me up and with two more creaky steps, I clear the hurdle. Back on solid ground, unscathed, relief sweeps through me. “Thanks.”

“Told you.” Instead of letting go, he laces our fingers together, and my heartbeat ticks faster for a totally different reason. This is the first time we’ve ever held hands.

We’re both wearing gloves, there’s no heat of skin to skin. But we’re palm to palm, the press of his fingers is a deliberate hold fusing us together, with mine reinforcing the connection, and that’s a thrill of its own.

Seconds stretch out as we watch each other. My pulse throbs with the pull toward him. His hand feels good wrapped around mine. Better than good, it feels right. So right. Surprise and delight shimmer and shine, brighter than all the stars in the sky.

The wonder in his gaze leaves me breathless. Bram smiles and squeezes my hand.

“Bram! Trevor!” The yell from one of our team members cracks over us like a whip, hard and fast.

Bram startles, then shakes his head as if to clear it. He glances at our joined hands, and a curious mix of apology and yearning flashes across his features before he releases me.

“We found something,” the voice calls again.

He turns toward them, his fingers flexing against his thigh.

The phantom touch of his hand lingers and I close mine into a fist to capture it for as long as possible.

Though our connection lasted mere moments, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s tilted our friendship on its axis. There was before, and now, we’re firmly in the after. I need to find out what that means and how—or what—has changed.