The Airdrie Firefly

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

Girlfriend?

Steven and Talyn stood at the entrance to the long unpaved driveway that connected the road to the Thornes' farmhouse, and waved at the van as it drove off. They had stopped at the urgent care center, where Dr. Tristan instructed Mr. Peabody to take them home. The doctor had remained with Chris and Barry to see to their care. They watched the van lights disappear into the darkness, then turned and started the long walk to the house.

Talyn noticed Steven rubbing at his face. Some of the cougar slobber had dried into crusty little patches. She kicked stones as they walked. Her mother's passing had triggered a change in her. Her dad knew it. Steven's parents knew it. Steven didn't.

She had lost control of herself many times in the days following the funeral, even more so when she'd gotten texts from Steven, text she'd barely respond to, if she did at all. Everyone who knew the situation thought it might affect her friendship with Steven, but Talyn knew for sure. It was going to affect their friendship, but just how she didn't know; some possibilities filled her with joy, others with incapacitating sorrow. She took a deep, cleansing breath to stop her anxiety from getting away from her.

"I didn't know Dr. Tristan was a director at the zoo," Steven said, looking at the business card. "Did you?"

The anxiety surged in Talyn's chest. She knew a lot of things that Steven didn't, but she didn't know what she could or should say. "Well, I—"

"I mean, why is a doctor a department director at the zoo?"

"Well he did say—"

"I mean, he's a people-doctor," Steven continued. "And what's this business about the zoo looking for orphaned animals. Did you know they did that?"

Talyn took another cleansing breath. Steven's questions didn't seem to need answers, which was good, but it was time to test the waters. "Steven, I . . . I have something to show you." The words left her like some involuntary bodily function.

Steven stopped dead in his tracks, all attention on Talyn.

Talyn stopped and turned to face him, hesitant, nervous about how he might react.

"What's up?"

"Here," Talyn said, thrusting the phone at Steven. "Just look at the pictures."

***

"What's th—" Steven started. Jaw dropped, eyes as big as saucers, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a selfie of Talyn with Bigfoot, an actual Bigfoot, in the background. The next picture was Bigfoot eating rhubarb. The next was video.

"So, you like rhubarb, do ya?" came Talyn's voice from the phone. "I think I'll call you Oliver." Then there was the shotgun's report followed by the camera being jostled, moving too fast for any clear picture, just glimpses. Then the only sounds were the wind and Talyn, breathing really hard.

"A special needs animal . . ." mumbled Steven, his jaw remembering how to move again. "A hunter shoots a bear not realizing the bear had cubs . . ." It's just a kid . . . a kid that just lost its mother. A small lump started to form in his throat as he remembered the funeral.

They turned back toward the house and continued shuffling up the driveway, Steven's eyes glued to the phone, and Talyn's glued to the ground.

Steven didn't play the video again; he didn't dare. It seemed wrong. The video reminded him of Mrs. Thorne, so it would definitely remind Talyn—not that she needed reminding. Instead, he focused on the selfie of Talyn with Bigfoot. She's smiling. The last time he'd seen Talyn, before today, her face had been as red as her hair and her eyes had been swollen from crying.