16

Northern Aroostook Airport

John Bear watched the warden service plane lift off from the small airport and waved to Lavallée as he circled the field before turning south toward his home airfield. The sound of the Cessna’s motor faded while John walked to his truck. He started the motor and waited for it to smooth out as the oil warmed. As he sat in the cold cab watching his steamy breath drift upward, he planned his next action. At that point he was only certain of one thing; he had to go up to Viverette Settlement, if for no other reason than to question the man he’d seen. The trip was not going to be easy during this time of the year. Few, if any, of the roads would be plowed. Even Camp 75 Road, which connected the Little Black checkpoint and Estcourt Road, only came within ten miles of the road to Viverette Settlement. He recalled that the forest service maintained a fire watchtower up that way. He needed to contact them to get a list of people who worked the tower during the spring, summer, and fall—maybe they knew something about the man in the settlement. He opened the glove box and took out a notebook in which he made several notes.

The truck’s motor was idling smoothly and John put the transmission in gear and drove toward Lyndon Station. When he went into the woods this time, he was going to be better prepared.

_____________

John arrived in Lyndon Station an hour and a half later and went immediately to his brother’s house. He backed his truck up and attached the trailer carrying his snowmobile, to the hitch. Before he could get into his four-by-four, Clarisse walked onto the porch holding two steaming mugs of coffee. “You should eat,” she said as she placed one of the mugs on the railing and returned to the warmth of the house.

The storm door closed with a loud bang and John stood in the yard watching the steam spiral up from the mug. Shit, John thought, if I don’t eat something she’ll bust my ass for years. In spite of his ire over the delay, he picked up the mug from the railing and was smiling as he entered the kitchen.

Clarisse was already seated at the table, a plate of donuts before her. John was overwhelmed by the pleasing aroma of freshly made donuts that filled the room, and grabbed one before he was completely seated.

“You’re going back out there, aren’t you?”

“I have to.”

“Then take someone with you.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know, another warden maybe.”

“They’re all busy. We still have two months of ice fishing season left, and the derby is in a couple of days. Keep in mind we only have five wardens to patrol an area larger than several states.”

Clarisse took a drink of coffee and placed her mug on the table. It was evident to John that she was not about to be placated, at least not easily. “What about the state police? Bob Pelky would help, all you got to do is ask.”

“This is something that I need to do on my own…. This case belongs to the warden service, not the state police.”

Clarisse leaned back in her chair and glared at him. “You mean this case belongs to you. I think you’ve let this become something personal.”

“Maybe I have,” John admitted, “but only because the majority of people have no idea of what this thing is capable of. They still think it’s human…. We know better.”

“If by we, you mean us Mi’kmaq and Maliseet, you may be mistaken. Most of us know those old tales for what they are. They are myths used to scare little children into behaving, nothing more.”

“Clarisse, you weren’t with me out there. I saw it and it’s no myth.”

She stood, walked to the stove, and refilled her mug. She held the pot out, silently offering him a refill. He nodded and slid his mug toward her. As she poured, Clarisse said, “I don’t know what it was you saw. But it was dark, snowing, and you were half-frozen to death. You may not know what it was you saw either.”

John took a long drink of the hot coffee and felt it burn as it traveled through him. “All right, you win. If Murph has nothing going on, I’ll take him with me and once I’m certain what I’m dealing with I promise to ask for appropriate assistance.”

Clarisse sighed in an exaggerated show of relief. “I swear that talking to you and your brother is like praying. You believe there is someone there, but can never tell if they are truly listening.” She walked toward the door leading to the living room. “Go on, do this thing you feel you must do. I only ask that you leave instructions.”

“Instructions?”

“Yes, where you’re going in case we have to search for you … and how you want your remains handled if we find you dead.”