FayzWorld

23 Harry Hogan - Hobie's Hill

Harry Hogan glanced up from his desk as the door opened. "Silas! What brings you out on a frosty morning?"

Silas Blogger, retired lightkeeper, sat on a chair opposite Harry's desk. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Harry grinned. "What's on your mind?"

"You know me too well. Have you heard the story of Hobie the Hermit?"

"No, I haven't. Is that where the name Hobie's Hill came from?"

Silas nodded. "His name was Obediah, known as Obie. My grandfather heard that his last name was Winterbotham."

"Obediah Winterbotham... that's a mouthful," Harry said.

"Obie lived around here when Gramps was a kid but nobody knew exactly where. Skinny as a rake and strong, he came to town spring and fall with an old canvas knapsack, and picked up some basic supplies. That's the only time anyone saw him. Gramps said Obie knew how to live off the land like a hermit."

"Did he pay for the things he picked up?" Harry asked.

"He stopped at the bank first so I guess he had money."

"Savings, funds being transferred from somewhere else, or an inheritance," Harry said.

Silas took a long sip of coffee. "I knew there was something else. Obie made one more stop when he came to town... the post office. Apparently he mailed one letter and there was always one letter waiting for him."

"Maybe from a relative, or a lawyer," Harry said. "And no one knew where he lived."

"All I heard is that everyone thought he lived up on that hill."

"He wouldn't have picked up fall supplies if he wasn't going to be there for the winter," Harry said. "It's an interesting story, Silas, but why are you telling me this now?"

Silas drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "That recent ice storm uncovered something that got me thinking. Maybe Obie lived in a cave."

Harry looked at him. "What makes you think that?"

"Just up past the lighthouse there's a wide ledge about halfway up the cliff. I was out there checking after the storm and... there's something just up over that ledge, like an opening in the cliff."

"And you never saw it before?" Hogan was sceptical.

"The ledge was filled with scrub but that storm did some damage. Part of the outer rim is gone, and the cliff is more visible."

"What happened to it?" Harry asked.

Silas shrugged. "Time and nature is my guess. A lot of water has run down over that cliff through the years."

"That makes sense," Harry said. "How old was Obie when your grandfather knew him?"

Silas laughed. "Maybe ten or eleven, and he thought Obie was probably in his forties."

"When was your grandfather born?"

"Well, he was 88 when he died in 1981, so he was born in 1893. Why?"

Harry chuckled. "That's a possible birth year of 1863, give or take a few years.. It's amazing what you can find on the Internet these days and I doubt if Obediah Winterbotham is a very common name."

Silas shook his head. "A person's life isn't very private these days."

"That's at least partly due to the increasing interest in genealogy. Bertie's good at research. I'll ask her to check when she comes in."

"That might tell us his background but I'm more interested in finding out where he lived."

"We know about the caves at sea level so I suppose other caves are possible," Harry said. "Are you aware of any that might be large enough to provide shelter?"

Silas shrugged his shoulders. "Haven't heard about any."

"Maybe he built a cabin up there somewhere."

"It would have been discovered long ago. That area was popular with small game hunters long before the ATV and hiking trails were developed."

Harry rubbed his chin. "If Obie lived in a cave, there must be an opening on the hill side because the lighthouse side is too steep for getting supplies in."

"Joe is pretty familiar with that area. He might know something. It's part of the town's history and could be another tourist attraction. I think we should investigate it," Silas said.

"We?" Harry repeated.

"You, me, and Joe. We - I mean you - could figure out where Obie lived."

"IF Bertie finds anything worthwhile about Obie, and IF the hillside is safe enough to explore, I'll think about it," Harry said.

"Agreed," Silas said. "I'll wait to hear from you."

Bertie came in as Silas was leaving. When she had settled at her desk, Harry repeated everything Silas had told him. "Can you search for Obediah Winterbotham, born about 1853 to 1873? While you're doing that, I'll go talk to Joe." He reached for his jacket as he stood up.

"I'll get right on it," Bertie replied.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry made his usual stop for coffee and donuts before visiting Joe, a habit left over from his police force days. Joe Grant had always been a reliable source of information. He parked the truck beside Joe's trailer, picked up his goods and went inside. "Good morning, Joe. Is it close to break time?" He sat down, placing the coffee and donuts on the table.

"Always," Joe replied with a grin. He picked up one of the coffee cups and selected one of the donuts.

"What's up?"

"What do you know about Obie the hermit?" Harry asked and sipped his coffee.

"Talking to Silas?" Joe asked and Harry nodded. "What'd he say?"

For the second time, Harry repeated everything Silas had told him and then asked "Is there anything you can add?"

"Folks said he was educated."

"Why?"

"The way he talked... he knew things," Joe said.

"That makes sense. Anything else?"

"The tunnel," Joe said.

"You mean the tunnel we used to get down to that sea level cave?"

Joe nodded. "Yep."

Harry frowned. "Obie couldn't have lived in that cave."

Joe was shaking his head. "Branch tunnel partway down... could be another cave."

"Have you ever checked it out?"

Joe shook his head. "Granddad said not to go in there."

"Do you know if anyone else ever checked it?"

Joe shrugged. "Never heard about it."

Harry was rubbing his chin. "I'm beginning to think Silas is right. We might have to look for Obie's home, after all - or what's left of it."

"Count me in," Joe said.

"I'll let you know, but we have to wait until this ice melts." He stood up and headed for the door. "Keep the donuts," he said and Joe laughed.

When Harry arrived back at the office, he shared Joe's information with Bertie, who then informed him she had found quite a lot on Obie.

"I haven't put it together yet, but... he was born 1876 in New York and shared a potentially large inheritance with a twin sister."

"That was the source of his funds when he came to town for supplies," Harry said.

Bertie nodded. "I'm guessing the person he exchanged letters with was his sister or his lawyer. He might have had two letters in the same envelope, one for each of them."

"That's possible. Any information on when or why he might have become a hermit?"

"What I've read suggests he planned it from the time he was a teenager."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "That young, huh?"

"The Historical Society would be interested in this," Bertie said.

Harry was rubbing his chin. "I don't doubt it," he said, "but let's keep it quiet for now, until we get a chance to look for where he lived. I won't tell Silas and Joe everything yet."

"That would be a fantastic discovery."

"And you never know what we could find to add to the story. Silas thinks it could become a tourist attraction but that depends on if we find anything, what we find, and how accessible it is."

"What are the chances?"

"Hard to say. Leave a printed copy of your information on my desk when it's done and I'll read it tonight."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Three weeks later Harry declared Hobie's Hill safe to navigate. They carried knapsacks with lunches, bottled water, flashlights and spare batteries, and a coil of yellow nylon rope. Wearing rubber-soled boots, in anticipation of wet surfaces in the tunnels, Joe led the way as they set out.

At the entrance of the tunnel leading down to the sea level cave, they paused for a moment. "Is there more than one branch tunnel?" Harry asked.

"Granddad didn't say," Joe said.

Harry nodded. "If the tunnel floor is slippery, we'll postpone this trip and try again later."

"Are you serious?" Silas asked.

"The branch tunnel will be on the upper side, going uphill, and we don't know how steep it is. I know you're eager, Silas, but an uphill walk over unfamiliar slippery territory would be dangerous."

Silas nodded. "You're right."

As they entered the tunnel, they used their lights, keeping watch for any irregularities in the floor that could cause someone to trip or stumble. There was no way of knowing what changes might have occurred since their last visit.

After passing several shallow caverns on both sides where small animals might shelter or nest for the winter, a narrow opening looked promising. Joe, the slimmest, squeezed in but backed out after finding a dead end about six feet in.

The next opening, about halfway down to the bottom, was larger, wet in places, and fairly steep until they reached a point where it branched out in a 'T-shape.' Their flashlights showed that the floors of both branches were similar to the one they were currently in, but maybe a bit more level.

Joe went to check the branch to their left while Harry and Silas waited at the junction. When he returned, he said it lead to the outside but was above ground level and overgrown by bushes, like the main tunnel entrance. "Need a ladder to get in and out," he said.

"Obie probably wouldn't have used that," Silas said. "Let's try the other branch."

The branch to their right was somewhat drier. A little way in, it turned upward and then curved back down, opening into a small cave. At the opposite end of the cave was another tunnel.

"Turn your lights off," Harry said, "and give your eyes a minute to adjust."

"There's light at the end of that tunnel," Silas said quietly, moving a step ahead.

"Lights on," Harry said, "so you can see where you're walking."

A short tunnel took them into another small cave with a high ceiling and an opening to the outside. Silas walked over and looked out. "This is what I saw from the lighthouse."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

Silas pointed to several rock chunks outside. "That's what happened to the outer rim of the ledge."

"Well, there are no signs that anyone ever lived in either of these caves," Harry said.

"Too small and too open," said Silas.

"Hey! Up here."

Harry and Silas looked around. "Joe?" Harry called out. "Where are you?"

"Hold on." Minutes later, Joe appeared in the entrance of the cave they were standing in. "Follow me."

"What have you found?" Silas asked.

"You'll see," Joe replied. He led them past the cave they had just found, the tunnel still going up, until they saw a glimmer of light ahead. As they walked on, it grew brighter. Suddenly, Joe stopped and stepped to one side. "What do you think?" he asked.

A few more steps and they walked out into a clearing where the hilltop curved inwards, away from the edge of the cliff. Some trees grew near the hillside but it was mostly covered with shrubs and bushes.

"Obie's home," Silas said, grinning from ear to ear. "It has to be."

Harry laughed. "It's hidden from the view of anyone down by the lighthouse and from the anyone using the trails on the other side of the hill."

"Great spot," Joe said.

"And he didn't live in a cave," Harry said, pointing to something close to the hillside, partly obscured by the trees. They pushed their way towards it. The roof seemed to be sagging but otherwise, the log house appeared to be intact, about sixteen feet across the front, and the back was very close to the hillside. A door was close to one end and two windows towards the other end.

"Doesn't look very big," Silas said. "Imagine living alone up here in a small space like this."

"One man, especially a hermit, doesn't need much space," Harry said. "He probably didn't have a lot of material things." The house was about six feet from front to back. Harry pushed his way back through the bushes. "Ingenious!" he said. "He used the same method many early settlers used. The back part of his house is dug into the side of the hill."

Further inspection revealed a window in the end, just around the corner from the door. The other end, revealed the back of a stone fireplace and chimney, though some stones were missing from the top.

Joe found a place to sit on a large boulder and pulled his lunch from his knapsack. "Time to eat."

Harry laughed as he and Silas also found boulders to sit on. "I imagine it was quiet here." He looked at Silas. "Do you still think it would be a good tourist attraction?"

"I'm not sure," Silas said slowly. "Obie came here to get away from everything. Do we have the right to reveal his secret to a bunch of gawking tourists?"

"We should see what's inside first," Harry said. "Remember, Bertie said he planned to document his life as a hermit. Maybe he left instructions on what he wanted done if it was found." He put the remains of his lunch in his knapsack and stood up.

The leather hinges protested, but didn't break, as Harry slowly pushed the door open. It opened into a room about four feet wide that appeared to have been used for wood storage. An axe and an old bucksaw hung on the wall beside the window. Opposite the window, another door led into the other side of the dwelling. Harry pushed it open and they stepped inside.

"Almost as big as your trailer, Joe," Harry said.

"Bigger." Joe shone his light towards the back. Obie had dug back far enough to add four feet to the main room, and covered the dirt walls with small logs. There was another door in the centre of this space. On each side of the door was a narrow log platform with several wooden kegs. Split-log shelves were attached to the wall up over this. The shelves held some enamel dishes, cutlery, metal teapot, kettle and assorted utensils.

Harry walked towards it, with his flashlight on. "Storage," he said. "The kegs might have held any number of things." The remains of a bed frame made with logs and rope, still holding some partial blankets, was situated in front of the shelves on the entrance side.

Beneath the windows was a small table with a split log top, and a junk from a large tree that served as a seat. In the corner, between the table and the fireplace was a chair made from a whiskey barrel.

"How did he get that up here?" Silas asked

The stone hearth in front of the fireplace held a cooking pot and ladle, a second pot - probably for heating water, and a large enamel pan.

A chest made from logs, notched & tied together, lid attached with leather hinges, stood in front of the shelves opposite the foot of the bed. Harry opened it and found a Bible, other religious books, Shakespeare, Dickens and other classics, plus a number of dog-eared journals.

Harry carefully put the journals in a plastic bag and secured them in his knapsack. "We'll take these with us. Now, let's see what's behind door number three." He went to the door at the back, pulled it open and shone his flashlight into the darkness. "Looks like a tunnel," he said.

"I wonder where it goes," Silas said.

"A way out?" Joe suggested.

"Maybe," Harry replied. "Let's see where it goes."

"I'll go," Joe was already through the door. "I'm faster."

"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 brings the meeting to a close before anyone remembers the journals. He intends 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.

© Fay Herridge
Published in Story Quilt, March 2023