"You look upset."

"Well, I am, kind of."

"It's going to be hard, but it really is a great thing for your dad. And don't worry, I'll make him keep a bedroom open for you. And we both know he'll complain about it, but I'm going to put up all of your posters and toys and everything."

"You don't have to go that far. Just put them up right before I get there and pretend you had the room that way."

"Are you okay with this?"

"Yeah, sure, of course. It's great news. Seriously."

"We can't wait."

"Wow. Las Vegas. That's...not close."

"We'll come back to visit. I promise."

1967.

"Hi."

Toby stood there until the awkward silence became unbearable. "Hi," he finally repeated.

"Sorry. I thought you were talking to somebody else."

"No, just saying hi."

"Do I know you?" the woman asked. She took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly.

"No, not yet. I was just seeing if you wanted to dance."

"With you?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yes."

"This is your first time talking to a woman, isn't it?"

"No, not at all. I'm just, you know, nervous."

"Well, I need a man who's confident."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry to have bothered you."

"I wasn't ruling you out. I was just saying that you have to be confident."

"Do you want to dance?"

"You're really not very good at this."

"I guess not."

"Practice. But on somebody else."

1968.

Toby opened the February issue of Argosy Argosy magazine and flipped to the page he wanted to show Owen. "This kind of looks like you," he said, holding up the Bigfoot photographs taken by Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin. "His fur is a lot darker, and your face is different, and you've got claws, but...I don't know, I think there's a resemblance." magazine and flipped to the page he wanted to show Owen. "This kind of looks like you," he said, holding up the Bigfoot photographs taken by Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin. "His fur is a lot darker, and your face is different, and you've got claws, but...I don't know, I think there's a resemblance."

No.

"You don't think so?" Toby looked back and forth, comparing Owen to the photographs. "Yeah, I guess you're right. This was in California, anyway."

"I quit."

"No, you don't," said Mr. Zack.

"I'm pretty sure I do."

"Nope, you don't. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you, Toby, are what is considered a 'valuable employee.' Therefore it's not in my best interest to let you quit. And so we will begin what experts refer to as the 'negotiation process,' wherein I make a counteroffer and we go back and forth until a mutual agreement is reached. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like I need to watch your every move."

"That's a good tactic regardless of the situation. So you've asked for a ten percent raise. You knew coming in here that you weren't going to get ten percent. I'll offer you two percent."

"I quit."

"Seriously, I can give you five."

"I deserve at least eight."

"Can't give you eight. Do you have a wife or kids to support that you haven't told me about?"

"I've got a pet."

"Cat or dog?"

"Neither."

"I can give you six. And you'll take six because you love working here and I love having you work here and it's generally pleasant for everybody, and also because most other bosses are a lot meaner and less entertaining than I am."

Toby thought that Mr. Zack often tried a little too hard at the "entertaining" part, but he was right, there were probably a lot worse bosses out there. At least Toby never got yelled at or pushed around here at the grocery.

"Seven."

"Six and a smile."

"Seven and a punch in the face."

"Seven and a smile. See? That's much better than being unemployed." Mr. Zack patted Toby on the shoulder. "You're a good kid. I'm surprised some fine young lady hasn't scooped you up."

"I don't get out much."

1969.

"Where have you been? Do you know how worried I was?" Toby demanded.

Owen just stared at him.

"Three days! Three days you've been gone! I thought you'd gotten hurt or moved away! I don't expect you to write me a note, but you could have done something something!"

Owen pulled apart his lips, showing his teeth.

"Oh, so you're mad at me me now? I'm not the one who disappeared for three days. Where were you?" now? I'm not the one who disappeared for three days. Where were you?"

Owen pointed to the left.

"What were you doing?"

Owen made doggy-paddle motions.

"You were swimming? You went swimming for three days?"

Thumbs-up. Yes. Yes.

"You were not swimming for three days. Where would you even go? Did you find a pond or something?"

Yes.

"You didn't need to be gone that long. You could have figured out a way to leave a message, or at least told me beforehand that you were leaving. You know, it's not that short of a walk out here. I've got a lot of better things I could be doing than trekking all the way out here just to find an empty cave."

Owen tapped his heart with two talons. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

"Well, you should be. I don't have anybody else, you know."

Owen furrowed his brow and curled his index finger.

"No, I'm not mad. Not mad anymore. anymore. Just don't do that to me again, okay?" Just don't do that to me again, okay?"

1970.

"It's a brand-new decade, Owen. Everything is going to change. The world is ours for the taking, buddy. I can't believe I brought this party hat all the way out here and you won't wear it."

1971.

"Listen to me," Toby said. He tapped his ear. "Listen. What I have to say is very important. Do you understand?"

Yes.