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hs64150.jpgbuy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request) day 64

Jeremy checked in on the Sasquatch Circus demonstrators. As they did every day, the animal rights activists punctured the air with their picket signs and chanted, “Don’t debauch the Sasquatch!” though they were now relegated by police to conduct their demonstration peacefully and across the road from the Solid Gold Sasquatch Lodge. The Sasquatch hunters, the ones who believed Tucky had violated some ethical code by shooting the Lady Sasquatch, had long since returned home or conceded defeat and joined the ranks of Sasquatch revelers.

There was no new news with the demonstrators today and Jeremy moved on. He was dreading having to appear in the Halfsquatch Summer reenactment shoot but his editor demanded he participate.

As he walked past the Sasquatch Circus tent, Jeremy flicked open his cell phone and, as he did each day, called Bob Richman. He left a message first at the Richman home, then one at his snowmobile shop, which was “temporarily closed for renovations” according to the hand-written sign taped to the shop’s door.
It wasn’t a completely pointless exercise, he told himself. It was his story; he had to see it through. Making daily phone calls to the town pariah was just part of the job.

It was early August and several forest fires burned in the northwest, hop-scotching across the Yukon-Alaska border. Jeremy hoped he’d be called upon to cover the fires, as he did every summer, but his editor had a different idea. Forest fires were not front-page news when there were protests! TV crews! Bigfoot Cinnamon Buns and a runaway Halfsquatch teen to contend with. He was stuck.

When he arrived on the set, Raylene and Nicole were talking over each other.

“So I put on this Biggie song and—”

Nicole shook her head. “I put on the Biggie song.”

“Fuck you! I put on the Biggie song.”

“Girls!” Scott cut in. “It really doesn’t matter who ‘put on the Biggie song.’”

Next, Jeremy watched Paula walk Scott through the scene where the girls, including Rebecca, dance.
“I was standing here, leaning against the freezer.”

Scott nodded and handed her a beer bottle half-filled with non-alcoholic cider. “What’s this for?” Paula asked.

“Well, if I’m not mistaken you were drinking with the girls and Dave – you even bought them the beer.”

Paula looked stricken. “Could you maybe leave that part out?” on the sidelines, Jeremy smirked.

The scene with Andrea chasing Rebecca out of the garage was the last shot. “Okay, so we want to get a lot of energy with this one.”

Raylene and Nicole groaned.

“I know, I know, it’s been a long night for everyone, but this is it,” Scott went on. “We’re shooting this all hand-held and I want to get this in one continuous shot. Stew, you stand with Raylene and Nicole. As soon as Andrea enters the room, run! Just bolt. Then Jeremy, then you, Paula. The camera’s going to be on Rebecca – Stew, I mean. And Stew, you fall — right where the marker is — and Paula and Jeremy will stop beside you and we’ll do a close-up of Jeremy with the bloody twig.” Jeremy cringed. Scott clapped his hands. “Let’s go people!”

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                                                                                                                                                          ©2008 pamela klaffke