|buy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request)||day 30
“C’mon, buddy. It’s on the house.” Tucky slid a shot glass to the edge of the bar, in front of Bob. Drops of whisky splashed over the sides and onto Tucky’s hand. He licked his fingers.
“I can’t. I’m driving,” Bob said. He fished his keys out of his jeans pocket and jangled them as if to offer proof of his excuse.
“Aww, Bob ’ere’s just sore ’cause he’s got a soft spot for the Lady Sasquatch – doesn’t want me to have ’er stuffed, hey Buddy?”
At this Jeremy perked up. His eyes narrowed and he blinked repeatedly, trying to focus on Bob. He summoned his best professional voice. “May I ask why not?”
Bob looked straight ahead. “I don’t think it’s right, that’s all,” he said quietly.
“Hell, that ain’t all,” Tucky said. Bob blanched. He brought the shot glass to his lips and threw it to the back of his throat with a squint and a shudder. Tucky gave a short slap to Bob’s stomach. “You’ve gone all soft on me.”
“Yeah, man. It’s not like you were friends with her or somethin’,” Stew said. Tucky and the Sasquatch hunters joined him in a laugh. They each tossed back another shot. Bob put back three more, eliciting hoots from the Sasquatch hunters and an attaboy from Tucky. Stew tried for a high-five but Bob kept his hands on the bar.
Jeremy ordered a coffee. He wished he were sober. There was something odd about Bob Richman and he wanted to know more.
“Yeah, it’s not like you were good friends with her,” Stew said, trying for another round of laughs. The men turned their attentions to the bar and away from Stew, pausing in the uneasy silence that always follows a dead joke. “Yeah, man,” Stew said, still trying. “It’s not like you were fuckin’ her or somethin’.”
One of the Sasquatch hunters snorted. A couple let out uncomfortable chuckles. Another shook his head disapprovingly. Tucky, however, laughed heartily. “You never know, I tell ya. Bob spent a lot of time out in the bush. A man gets lonely, hey buddy?”
Encouraged by Tucky, the Sasquatch hunters laughed too.
Jeremy studied Bob. His back stiffened. His faced flushed with fear and then anger. “I have to go,” he said. Bob snatched his keys from the bar and started for the door.
Tucky called after him but Bob was gone. “Jeez,” he said. He downed the last shot of whisky on the bar. “Whaddya say we go have ourselves a peek at our lady friend.”