“Twenty minutes and I’m coming after you,” Harry said. They heard him laughing as he walked away.
Joe was back in fifteen minutes, looking a little pale and shaky. “Dead end… not finished… he… he died… shovel in his hand.”
Harry pulled him back inside, shut the door and sat him on the chest. “Are you okay.”
Joe nodded. “Shocked is all.”
“You found Obie,” Silas said sadly and Joe nodded again.
“Let’s get outside.” Harry opened the doors to let them go ahead and then closed the doors behind him. “I think that answers our question about revealing the location of Obie’s home. His final resting place should be left untouched.”
They both nodded in agreement as they began their trek home.
“Hey, Hogan,” Silas said as drove back to town. “Did you notice the braided mats on the floor?”
“Beside the bed and in front of the whiskey barrel chair? Yes, I did,” Harry said.
“Do you think he made them himself?”
“I don’t know,” Harry replied. “We’ll keep this to ourselves until I find out if Obie wrote any kind of last wishes.”
“Right,” Silas and Joe said.
***************
Harry sat at his desk, reading one of Obie’s journals. “Listen to this,” he said. “I finished knitting my scarf today. Then I folded it in half and sewed part of it together to make a hood at the centre. I put it on and wrapped the ends around my neck to hold it in place. Good for when it’s cold outside. Another useful skill learned.”
“He was certainly resourceful,” Bertie said.
After browsing through Obie’s journals, Harry set up a meeting with the Mayor, Historical Society president, Bertie, Silas, and Joe. Bertie read a brief account of Obie’s life for them.
“Obediah and twin sister Martha, of Abraham Winterbotham and Judith Henrickson, born in New York, 1876. At 21 they came into a shared inheritance from their maternal grandfather, Obediah Henrickson. Obie invested half of his inheritance, leaving the rest in the bank, and lived on his wages as a tobacco shop clerk.
“As a young teenager, Obie spent more time in the forest that anywhere else. As a young adult, he retreated into the forest every weekend, in all kinds of weather. He had always planned to become a hermit, to study religious texts, read the classics, and keep journals of his life. But he was realistic and knew that he’d need money to provide some basic things that he couldn’t get by foraging, in order to maintain his health.
“When his investments had doubled in value, he sold everything, added the proceeds to his bank account, and found a lawyer to transfer funds as needed. On his visits to town, he mailed a letter to his sister and picked up one from her that was waiting for him. Correspondence with his lawyer was included with these letters. After her death, he corresponded with his lawyer. According to the dates in his journals, Obie died at103 around 1979.”
Harry briefly described what he, Silas and Joe had found. “Since it is Obie’s final resting place, and is not easily accessible, we feel the location should be kept secret, just as he wished.”
After some discussion, it was decided to keep Obie’s secret. The drawings and descriptions of edible wild plants native to the area, with instructions on how to dry, preserve and use them, would be reproduced in a booklet and sold by the Society as a fund raiser.
Harry brought the meeting to a close before anyone remembered the journals. He intended for them to be transcribed and the originals locked in a vault.
“And the biggest secret of Hobie’s Hill will remain a secret,” Silas said, as he and Joe waited for Harry to give them a ride home.
“Amen to that,” Joe said.
