Page 37 of The Sasquatch and the Hairdresser

Inside, my heart tap-dances in time with the butterflies in my stomach. A sense of euphoria washes over me, and I understand that expression about floating on air.

Then the bubble bursts with a gravity-force wake-up call that the sensible part of my brain drops into the mix.

Skylar and I may not be on the same wavelength when it comes to love and romance. Him taking my hand and wanting to spend time with me are certainly signs pointing in the right direction, but if this were a marathon, I’m probably laps ahead of him on the emotions.

Not knowing how Skylar feels is agonizing, and I’m pretty sure that’s giving me what Ryder likes to call angsty teenager vibes right about now.

Another new sensation for me, but definitely not a pleasant one.

We reach a set of stairs leading down to the beach and slowly make our way toward the fiery festivities, where a gnome wearing a string of glowsticks around his neck greets us.

“Welcome, friends! Have you come to join us in giving praise to The Great Sporefather?”

“The what now?” Skylar says.

The gnome’s eyes glitter in the firelight. “Come. Witness his greatness.”

We’re summarily led to a blanket a short distance from the bonfire. The gnomes form a large circle around the smoldering heap and, each holding a glowstick in one hand and a flask in the other, begin to chant.

Oh, Great Sporefather, wise and true

We praise your bountiful beneficence

With which we make our tasty brew!

They all lift their flasks in the air and drink a big gulp of whatever’s inside.

Your mycelium majesty rules all the land

While we are but your humble servants

Ready and willing to lend a hand!

“I think I know what they’ve been foraging,” I whisper to Skylar.

Your flawless fungi fill the earth

Bringing nourishment and revelations

Of marvelous worth!

We protect you and your dark, damp home

So you may flourish in peace

Wherever your spores may roam!

Skylar chokes. “They’ve been tripping balls on hallucinogenic mushrooms?”

“I’m afraid so,” I say with a sigh.

Once the chanting ends, several of them pick up instruments and the music starts up again. A bunch of the gnomes begin dancing around the fire as they sing to their supposed mushroom god.

“For fuck’s sake, they’re… twerking. I did not need to see naked gnomes twerking.” Skylar shudders. “Ever.”

I snort-laugh. “It’s like that scene in The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Bette White out in the woods,” I marvel. “Only so much weirder.”

“But no less entertaining,” Skylar adds.