How to Trap Bigfoot

8 pages · 6 min · ages 6+

“Bigfoot isn't real,” said Oscar on Friday, at the back of the classroom. “Bigfoot is REAL,” said Juniper. “And on Monday, I'll bring proof.” Because this weekend, Juniper's family was going camping in Whispering Woods, and everybody knew Bigfoot lived in Whispering Woods. Juniper packed her clipboard. She packed her goggles. Toby packed forty-seven marshmallows. And Dad packed his thickest, biggest, stripiest woolly socks. “My feet get SO cold in the woods,” said Dad.

Plan One was scientific. “Bigfoot has big feet,” Juniper told Toby, “so Bigfoot leaves big footprints. All we need is somewhere for him to step.” She smoothed a patch of mud next to the tent until it was as flat as a pancake. No twigs. No leaves. Not one ant. “This trap cannot fail,” she said. In the morning, Juniper unzipped the tent and gasped. There it was! A huge footprint, right in the middle of the mud. It had toes. It had a heel. It had… stripes. Toby looked at it with his mouth full of marshmallow. “That's Dad,” he said. “He went to the toilet in the night.”

Plan Two was a trap for sitting. “Bigfoot walks all day,” said Juniper, “so Bigfoot must be tired. And hungry.” She strung Dad's hammock between two trees, low down, and filled it with the juiciest blackberries in the woods. When Bigfoot sat down to eat them, she would pull the rope, and the hammock would roll him up like a burrito. Juniper hid behind a mossy log with the rope and made herself comfortable. “This trap cannot fail,” she whispered. The woods went dark. An owl hooted. Juniper waited. And waited. And waited. And fell fast asleep.

She woke up to a snore. A big, deep, rumbly snore, coming from the hammock. Juniper's heart went thump. She pulled the rope with all her might. Whoosh! The hammock rolled up, round and round, into a perfect burrito. “Got you!” shouted Juniper, and she held up the lantern. Out of the top poked a sticking-up hairdo. Out of the bottom poked two big striped socks. “Hello, Juniper,” said the burrito. “Lovely blackberries. I couldn't sleep in the tent.”

Plan Three was loud. Juniper had read in a book that if you do a Bigfoot call, Bigfoot calls back. She climbed onto the biggest rock at the edge of the camp, cupped her hands round her mouth, took the deepest breath of her whole life, and called: “WHOOOO-OOP!” The woods went quiet. Then the woods answered. An owl hooted. A frog croaked. A woodpecker drummed on a tree. Somewhere far away, a moose went HONNNK. And one by one, every tent on the whole campsite lit up.

“Juniper,” said Dad, very sleepily, from the tent, “please stop calling moose.” Juniper climbed down and sat by the campfire. It was the last night. Tomorrow they were going home, and she still had no proof. Oscar would laugh. Toby toasted a marshmallow until it was golden. Dad came out and held his feet up to the fire in his giant striped socks. “Poor feet,” he said. “It's the coldest night of the year.” Juniper looked out at the dark, dark trees. If Dad's feet were cold, what about Bigfoot's? Bigfoot had the biggest feet of anybody. And he didn't have any socks at all.

Juniper looked at her clipboard for a long time. Then she put it away. No more traps. When Dad was snoring in his sleeping bag, she took his biggest, warmest, stripiest socks from beside his pillow. She tiptoed to the very edge of the woods and hung them on a low branch, side by side, like a present. “For big cold feet,” she whispered to the trees. Then she went to bed. That night, nobody snored in the hammock. But out in the woods, somewhere very dark and very deep, something sighed a big, happy, warm-footed sigh.

In the morning, the socks were gone. “Has anybody seen my socks?” asked Dad, hopping about on the cold grass. In the mud, leading into the woods, were two enormous footprints. They were bigger than Dad's. Much, much bigger. And they had stripes. On Monday, Juniper stood in front of the class and held up her photo of the footprint. “Those are socks,” said Oscar. “Size ninety-nine,” said Juniper. Ms. Bell leaned in very close and looked for a long time. And far away in Whispering Woods, somebody big and shaggy was having the warmest feet of his whole life.