A Love Story Undefined

If you live anywhere in the world, odds are you know or have heard of the legend of Bigfoot. Have you ever wondered just how true those stories and legends are? Well, I am here to tell you. And whether or not you believe my tale, well, that's up to you, I just know what happened and while I have learned not to talk about it out loud, I knew this story had to be told. So here I sit, in the middle of the night, looking at my computer screen and wondering where to begin.

Oh, I hope you will please excuse any errors in spelling, grammar, etc., or other such things you would expect from a writer, because I am not a professional writer. I am a wife, a mother and I spend my time helping my husband on our farm. It's not a big place, just a hundred acres or so, we raise cows for milk, chickens for eggs, and horses to ride in the cool evening air of a Pacific Northwest summer evening. We live very securely in the back woods of an area not far from the Coast Range in Northern Oregon, and we are happy with our life.

My story actually begins when I was a kid, and I would go to visit my mom's parents in Idaho. They lived up near the Canadian border, and the nearest town was five miles away. There was no phone, no cable television or computer games. Our light was the candles my grandma produced on a daily basis, and my grandfather worked as my husband does now, making a living off the land. My mom and her sisters and brothers got the hell out of there as soon as they finished school, scattering to the four winds and only returning once or twice a year.

I got lucky enough to start spending my summers at the cabin when I was about six. That was when my folks got a divorce and I was split between mom and dad for six months each. Mom had me from the end of school to winter break, which was actually more than she wanted me around, but she tried to make it look good. Dad on the other hand was a pretty good man who loved his children and his job. During the school year he was a professor teaching Biology and Crypto-zoology. Don't feel bad if you don't know what it is, most people don't regard it as a real form of science, and most people who practice it are considered crackpots. You see them on those paranormal shows and late night talk shows.

Dad spent his summers traveling all over the world, usually with a group of students and assistants trying to prove oddball theories. Mom spent hers traveling around the country with whatever carnival her current boyfriend worked for. I was lucky to see her at all during the summer, and to be honest, I preferred it that way. Even when she was around, she ignored me most of the time, preferring to smother my brother with all her love and attention because he looked like the jock that had knocked her up her first year of college, then run out on her.

Grandma and grandpa were good folks who did their best to keep me occupied but more often than not I would be found, when not helping with chores, running around the forest just absorbing nature. I guess I was about six when I saw my first Bigfoot. Not the big hairy kind that you expect, but she was big and covered with a soft, downy kind of fur you were more likely to expect from a kitten or short haired cat. She looked like a giant to me, and was as broad as any female or male I had ever seen, but she also had the most beautiful chocolate brown eyes...they were filled with pain and it wasn't long before I found out why. Her whimpers and cries had been what drew me to the spot I first saw her, and from the look of her stomach I knew she was going to have a baby.

I never thought about being scared, I just had this overwhelming urge to help her somehow. Not that I had the first idea of about to deliver a baby but I knew who did, I had watched grandpa and grandma deliver everything from kittens to calves and ponies. So, I did what came natural, I ran back to the farm, and practically dragged both of them to the clearing to help her.

Now my grandparents could have reacted one of two way. They could have run back to the farm, jumped in the truck and headed into town to report this, instead they reacted as I knew they would, both of them moved closer to help her. Her pain was so bad that when she tried to get up and run away, she simply fell back to the ground, then she made these kinds of growls and other noises to make us go away, but it didn't happen. Grandma just walked up to her and laid her hands gently on the swollen stomach and yelled back instructions to grandpa for what she needed.

Seeing that baby Bigfoot born was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life. He was long and slender like a regular baby, with all the parts that told us he was male, and he had ten fingers and ten toes and like his mother those beautiful eyes. Grandma got him all cleaned up, and wrapped him an old sheet then laid him to his mother's breast to nurse. Once that was done, she got the mother cleaned up and then came to stand by us.

"George, Lee, you know we can never tell anyone about this, folks would think we were crazy. Or they would come up here with every intention of shooting and skinning them..." That made grandma angry, but I never understood why until I was older and learned this was not her first encounter with a creature like this.

A note here, yes my name is Lee, not Leigh or any other spelling, just Lee. I was named after a relative and that was the way mom and dad wanted it. Lee. I won't tell you my last name, because that would tell you that my professor father is one of those science guys who host a late night science show on cable television.

But getting back to my story, after the birth of the baby, the mother stayed in the clearing for three days, caring for her son and eating the variety of fruits and vegetables grandma and grandpa and I brought her. They tried giving her meat and cooked food, but she didn't care for it, and she just got a disgusted look on her face when they brought it to her raw.

The second day she let me hold the baby, I sat down beside her and she put it in my arms. Just like that, it felt warm and as soft and cuddly as human baby I had seen, but about ten pounds heavier. Dad had talked about this theory that Bigfoot was some sort of primate, related to chimps and gorillas, but I knew better now, they were just like us, just bigger and hairier.

All that summer I went back to the clearing everyday and she showed up with the baby just like clockwork, sometimes bringing the baby's older brother. That was the first time I saw him. He was just like his brother and mother, but he had a darker coat then either of them and his eyes were blue, not just sky blue, but the blue of glacier ice and he had a wonderful smile. I knew he wasn't much older than me, and we played hide and seek in the woods and other kids games.

I was sorry when fall came and I had to leave, the last day before my time was up I went to the clearing and sure enough they were there waiting for me. I didn't know if they understood or not when I told them I had to leave, but that I would be back next summer and I hoped they understood when as I was leaving, I turned and promised to come back. Ice followed me a while, but then I shook my head at the edge of the woods and he nodded.

For the next ten summers I came back like I had promised and so did they. Each summer was like the one before but with one major difference, Ice and I learned to communicate. Mainly with sign language and I learned that he had come to my grandparent's farm during the winter to help them when the weather was the worse. It was grandpa who taught him the sign language, and when Ice first signed me hello, it was a surprise. A nice one though.

The summer of my fifteenth year my mom stopped coming for me at the end of the summer, instead it was my dad who made the trip and I lived with him full time after that. Not that he kept me from my grandparents; he let me go without hesitation and went off on his own to where ever he was investigating that year.

My fifteenth summer was also the summer I shot up to almost six foot, and my body went into hormonal overdrive. I felt sorry for Ice that summer. His sense of smell was more acute then a normal human and my being in constant horniness were having the usual affect it had on a male. It was almost funny because he was a grown adult then and expected to mate but he told me in sign language that he didn't care for his choices. Then he looked at me shyly and told me that I was the one he wanted.

Now before you think I am some kind of weirdo, let me tell you, if any of you had ever seen him, you would have understood the effect that statement had on me. To me, Ice and his family or tribe as he referred to them were just hairy humans, period and to think of any male with his fantastic build and beautiful eyes telling me he wanted me was like being told I'd won the lottery. Not that I was able to even consider doing anything about it. I told him the promise I had made my dad to remain a virgin until I was 18 and that if he was still interested in three years then I would consider his offer.

He kissed me then, and held me in his arms and promised me he would wait forever if he had to. To be honest, over the next three years, the memories of the time we had spent together and the summers we spent roaming the woods were the only thing that kept me going. I wasn't the most popular girl in school because besides being tall like I was, I had developed a thyroid condition and my weight had to be constantly monitored. I did my best to keep it under control, but the summer I turned 17 I ballooned to over two hundred pounds and was never able to get it back under that, to this day I still hover between two and two fifty, and it's a daily battle to keep it there.

Not that Ice seemed to care, he actually seemed to like me better now, and he teased me that I was more like him now, if not as tall. Actually he was taller and thinner than the rest of his tribe, and during the summer he shed more of his coat than the others did. That last summer, we both spent a lot of time brushing each other's hair.

The summer I was eighteen was the beginning of the end for my trips to the hills. My grandfather had suffered a stroke that winter and he was left unable to do most of the work around the farm. Ice came down and he took over most of the work himself, and helping grandma when and where he could. To be honest, when I arrived at the farm, I was stunned by the change in him.

His soft coat was gone, and he wore a pair of jeans and a work shirt that had belonged to my grandfather. He still had facial hair, but now it was shaved to look more like a short beard and moustache. My dad had no idea he was shaking hands with Bigfoot when they met, and we liked it that way.

It wasn't until dad left for Tibet and his most recent search for the Yeti that grandma felt safe in telling me what had happened with Brice, now Ice's official name. Ice had come down from the hills and told a tale of death and destruction. A developer had purchased the area where his tribe lived. He had moved in with bulldozers and dynamite and destroyed their part of the forest. Many had died when he dynamited their cave and only a handful had been able to escape alive. Brice had chosen to come to the farm rather than escaping into the Canadian wilderness and with her help, had used hair remover to make himself more presentable. A friend of my grandparents had gotten him fake papers showing him to be an American citizen and giving him an identity. Over the last few months, he had been learning to read, drive the truck and most of the folks in town never seemed to notice that he might not be like them in a lot of ways.

That night was the night he came to me as well, reminding me of the promise we had made each other and in the darkness of the night, he made me his mate. It was nothing more than I would have experiences with any of the men or boys I knew back home, and yet so special and so wonderful that I couldn't keep from having orgasm after orgasm with him.

Our love for each other grew even stronger over the summer and when fall came I chose to stay on with him and my grandparents. One night that following spring my grandfather passed away and it fell to me to contact the family and tell them. The funeral came and went and yet grandma refused to leave the farm, instead she sold it to the developer with the agreement that he could have it when she passed away. He didn't argue, she gave him a fair price and the money was divided equally between my mom, aunts, and uncles and grandma. Her share would go to Ice and I when she passed. Which she did the year I turned 22, that was also the same year that I learned I was pregnant. Shortly afterward Brice and I married in a small civil ceremony using his fake papers and we moved from Idaho.

The money that grandma left us enabled us to buy this farm and we love the life we have here, there are woods for our children to play in and lately we've noticed tracks that suggest we're not alone here. This is one reason I needed to sit down tonight and write this out, my children need to know their true heritage and I need to show the world that not all is as it seems.

Is Bigfoot a legend or a fact, is my husband some missing link in the evolutionary chain, or is he simply a man who was born to a different kind of human? I refuse to even try to put an answer to these questions, I leave that the men like my father.

To those few who know us, we are what we appear to be, a loving couple with children who live the life we choose. We will live and love and grow old together and when the time comes we will die. What else can humans expect from life?