The majority of the drivers who rubberneck the massive Western North Carolina Cryptid Museum’s billboards have never seen one. The giant cartoon sasquatch wearing pink sunglasses on the sign promises “the best collection and artifacts of cryptids, ghosts, and spirits from the North Carolina Mountains.” Cryptids like the sasquatch and the loch ness monster are all animals claimed to exist but never proven to exist.
Robert always works the first Tuesday of each month. His quiet morning is interrupted by the large, tarnished brass store bell above the entrance ringing. He’s curious about who just entered the museum.
He sees the visitor, a middle-aged man with slicked-black hair, glancing at the Brown Mountain Light exhibit. The man is directing his right arm and pale fingers in the shape of a gun toward something in the exhibition.
There’s mud and dirt around his raggedy black boots. His boots look like they came from a secondhand store. Robert is annoyed because he will have to sweep that up later.
“The Brown Mountain Lights are one of the oldest legends around here. An overlook just 30 minutes from here is a popular place where people can try to view them. Did you know that the X-Files made a show about our ghost lights?” Robert informs the visitor.
“No, I didn’t know that about the X-Files..,” the visitor concentrates on the museum worker’s name badge, “Do you do the tours, Robert?”
Robert fidgets when he sees the visitor’s two different-colored eyes. His left eye is blue and regular, and his right eye is black and terrifying. “Yes, I give tours. Follow me.”
The museum tour combines items in glass display cases, maps, and photos on the walls. The tour starts with the Brown Mountain Lights, then through six more displays based on mountain folklore, then to the Lake Norman monster, then to the Outer Banks mermaids, and closes with the cleverly called Ghosts Along the Coast.
“The Boojum is said to wander the cliffs within the Balsam Mountains,” Robert points to the southwest corner of Haywood County on the wall map. “Reports claim that Boojum is part man and part creature. He stands 8 feet tall, covered with thick wild gray hair, and has a human face.”
Robert unlocks a small glass case. He inserts his hand into the case and pulls out a handful of polished gems. “Boojum is said to have two affections for gems like these and pretty girls. Women said they felt like something was watching them in the woods.”
“So the Boojum is a greedy pervert,” the visitor interjects, “What about the Creature of Cataloochee?”
A little annoyed, Robert grumbles, “Yes, we’ll get to that. The Creature of Cataloochee is after the will-of-the-wisp…” He shuts up when he realizes the visitor’s eyes are fixed on him like he’s about to be pounced on. But it’s the terrifying right one that makes him nervous. “We’ll just skip those. The Creature of Cataloochee stuff is right down here.”
Robert cautiously leads the impatient visitor past the will-of-the-wisp things toward the Creature of Cataloochee exhibit. The man following makes him more uneasy, and his squeaky combat boots don’t help.
He knows they’re at the Creature exhibit when he sees the taxidermied black panther that the museum owner somehow acquired. “This is Felix, my favorite thing in this place. He’s like our mascot,” Robert pats the stuffed large cat’s head.
He points to the Cataloochee Valley area on the Great Smoky Mountains wall map above Felix. “Right here is where some mountain folk experienced unexplained times during the 1944 summer. Two days before July 4th, people discovered a pile of dead animals along Cataloochee Creek. They found another pile seven days later. These dog and rabbit bodies got mauled and torn apart,” Robert attests and then pauses because he catches the visitor looking at Felix with sad, downcast eyes.
Robert refocuses and continues, “between this, a witness said they saw something that looked like a large bear or a panther. An animal said to be eight feet long, had black fur, a long tail, a large head, and saber-like fangs. The newspapers called it The Creature of Cataloochee. Over three hundred hunters came to the valley to hunt the creature but only found large cat prints. Eight feet long, that’s twice as big as here Felix is–”
“Not Felix,” the visitor interrupts.
“Not Felix?” Robert asked, perplexed. He watches the saddened man blot a few tears from his eyes with his blue jean jacket sleeve.
“Her name is Fern. Not damn Felix and not your damn mascot. I’ve come here to take her.”
Robert puts his hands up like a frightened kid and steps back. “Listen, man. It’s cool if you want the cat. Just take it,” he offers, “I won’t stop you.”
“How nice of you, but I didn’t come to this museum for permission to take my cousin home to Nolan Gap to bury her.”
“Nolan Gap, like in the Cataloochee Valley,” Robert gasps.
“That’s correct, Robert, but I shouldn’t have let that slip,” the visitor says, “now I have to do something off plan. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Go ahead! Ask me.”
Robert is shaking and imagining the worst. His demise. The visitor’s terrifying black eye. He clenches his fists, closes his eyes, and gulps, “are you the Creature?”
The visitor smiles and puts his fingers against his lips, “Shhh! Of course, I’m not the Creature of Cataloochee. I’m one of many Creatures of Cataloochee.”
The visitor lunges toward Robert. Robert hears what sounds like a large jungle cat growl before getting knocked unconscious.
Robert wakes up later lying on the museum floor. “I’m not dead,” he chuckles.
He rotates his head toward the Cataloochee exhibit. He sees that Felix is gone and enormous cat claw marks on the Smoky Mountains Map.
Robert laughs. He places his fingers against his lips and whispers, “Shhh! Of course, Felix was a Creature of Cataloochee,” before passing out.
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