“So what can I do for you two gentlemen?” asked Max. The three men were sitting around a bear-skin rug next to an exquisite stone fireplace. It was too early in the season for a roaring fire, but the ambiance was still quite tranquil. A cup of hot cocoa and a good book would have felt like Heaven for Larry.
“We need to talk to you about something, Max.” Sam looked worried and Max realized this was more than a friendly visit.
“Am I in some kind of trouble?” he asked.
“No, no; nothing like that,” said Larry. “It’s about Harper’s Woods.”
“What about ‘em?”
“Max, you are this town’s best hunter. You know those woods better than anyone else in Bayberry Cove. Hell, I’m surprised you even live in a house,” joked Larry. Max stared back at him without cracking a smile. He wasn’t a bad guy; Max was just a very serious man. He was attractive in a rugged sort of way, with a scruffy beard and a solid frame. Max was one of those guys that never worked out, didn’t have noticeable muscle definition, but everyone knew he was always the strongest guy in the room. Not to mention the toughest. A loner by nature, Max was single and in his early thirties. No children, not many ex-girlfriends, but a house filled with hunting trophies from every kind of animal roaming Harper’s Woods. Well, all but one.
“You know the story of the beast, right Max?” asked Sam.
“Everyone in these parts knows that story, but it’s just a story, Sam. You know that.”
“What if it wasn’t just a story?”
“Sam, I’ve walked every square inch of those woods. Sometimes all in one day. I’ve been to the northern edge and stood at the foot of Mt. Misery, where no animal could live. I’ve been to the southern edge and stood on the shore of the cove. And I’ve been to the western edge and seen the creek that separates Bayberry Cove from the rest of the world. But I have never seen a beast. And if I had,” Max grinned for the first time, “his head would be hangin’ over my fireplace.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” said Larry. “But let me ask you a really important question, Max. Have you ever stepped foot out of the woods? Have you ever crossed the creek? Have you ever been hunting anywhere else? Gone into a neighboring forest?”
Max didn’t even think about his answer. “Why would I do that?”
“Don’t you ever get bored hunting in the same area? Hunting for the same animals?”
“Can’t say that I do. Never really thought about it before, I suppose.”
“Think about it now,” pressed Larry. “Why haven’t you crossed the creek? Why haven’t you left Bayberry Cove?”
“Never had the urge to. What is this all about, Larry? Sam? You guys never cared about where I hunt before? Why you so interested now? Did I break some law? I have all my permits right here and they’re all current.” Max stood and walked toward a drawer where he kept all of his important documents.
“Max, forget about the permits. You haven’t done anything wrong. We need to tell you something because we need your help. But you have to promise us that this information will never leave our group of three. Sam and I talked about this earlier today, and we have a plan, but we can’t do it without you.”
“Sure, you know me Larry.” Max closed the drawer and turned toward the sheriff. “We go way back. I may be a quiet man, but I’ve never turned my back on a friend. You have my word.”
Larry nodded and turned to Sam. “Maybe you should start from the beginning, Sam. Tell Max exactly what you told me on the way over here.”
Sam took a deep breath and began. “I know this will sound crazy, Max, but just keep an open mind for a few minutes and then feel free to kick us out when I’m done.”
“I’ll do my best, mayor,” Max promised.
Sam took a deep breath. He looked like a man about to tell an unbelievable story. “Three hundred and eighty years ago, this town was founded by a group of seventy-five Englishmen. The mountains, the cove, and the wilderness provided a barrier to the outside world, and seemed to keep everyone safe from the harsh winters of Maine. The mountains and trees knocked down the strong winds and, of course, we all know the importance of fresh bayberries in our history.”
Max nodded in agreement. “I already know all that, Sam. What’s the big secret?”
Sam glanced at Larry and then continued, “The founding fathers and mothers agreed on most everything, but there was one problem – someone was already livin’ on this land.”
“Who?” asked Max.
“The stories vary,” Sam answered. “Some say it was the only surviving member of a Native American tribe. Others say it was a stray Frenchman or Spaniard that separated from his people years earlier. Maybe it was another Englishman. But most records seem to indicate it was none of the above. He was just a mysterious man that didn’t welcome the intrusion.”
Max seemed intrigued. “So, what happened?”
“Well, our founders weren’t evil people, so they accepted him into their clan at first. They gave him the same rights as everyone else. Even allowed him to vote. But things went from bad to worse pretty quickly. They had a huge argument over what to name the town. Our founders wanted Bayberry Cove, but Boreas said he had already named the village Hyperborea. He lost that argument, of course. After months of conflict, the town voted unanimously to kick him out of Bayberry Cove. So, Boreas retreated to Mt. Misery.”
“Wow, I’ve never heard that before,” Max admitted.
“No one has,” said Larry. “But you haven’t heard the crazy part yet.”
“It gets crazier?”
“It definitely gets crazier,” confirmed Larry.
“I need a drink,” Max sighed.
“Make that three,” Larry and Sam said simultaneously.
