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The narrow highway wound through rolling green hills. The sign up ahead read, “Hocking Hills State Park.” Bones breathed a sigh of relief, shifted uncomfortably, and turned to the Maddock.
“Did you show the rental car lady your junk, Maddock?”
Dane Maddock shot a confused glance at his friend. “What are you talking about?”
“I figured you must have, because she gave you a tiny car to match.”
Maddock smirked. “It’s not my fault you’re too abnormally large for normal modes of transportation.”
Bones chuckled. “The ladies like my abnormal largeness.”
“Never mind, Bones.” Maddock turned up the radio, Bruce Springsteen’s rough voice drowning out the big Cherokee’s wisecracks.
Bones reached over and turned down the radio.
“Enough with the white people music,” he said.
“I thought you only considered country music to be ‘white people’ music,” Maddock said, keeping his eyes trained on the road.
“Springsteen skirts the edge. He’s like middle-aged folk emo. Really, how many songs about unemployment and shut-down factories can a guy write?”
“Heresy,” Maddock said. “Tell me about this park we’re going to. Did you learn anything about this supposed treasure?”
Bones grinned. “You suck at changing the subject, you know that? Anyway, no, nothing about the treasure. Nelli was right. It’s not common knowledge.”
“Or, it might total crap.”
“You do this every time, you know?” Bones asked. How did Maddock manage to hold on to his skepticism after all they’d seen?
“Someone has to be the voice of reason.”
“Until he’s proved wrong.” Bones held up a hand and began counting on his fingers. “Atlanis, Loch Ness, Noah’s Ark...”
“All right. I get it. Maybe there’s something there, and maybe a woman who doesn’t even have the good sense to wear a life jacket is the only one who knows about it.”
“Dude, what is it like to be you? Can you even take a crap with that tight sphincter of yours?”
“I knew you had an interest in men’s sphincters,” Maddock said.
“Screw you, Maddock. I mean, not that. Oh, forget it,” he said over the sound of Maddock’s laughter. “Anyway, the park sounds like it’s worth visiting even if there’s no treasure. Cool hiking trails, rock formations, waterfalls. And two babes meeting us there.”
Maddock nodded. “Better than sitting around with you watching Ancient Aliens. No Bigfoot sightings in the area?”
“As a matter of fact, I did find a website that mentions Bigfoot.”
“I vote we focus on the treasure. Did Nelli give you any background information?” After the rescue, Bones and Nelli had spent a lot of time in quiet conversation, leaving Maddock to try and find common interests with her younger sister, a college student.
“She said there were two brothers that lived in some of the caves there, back in the late eighteenth century. They stole a treasure from the local tribe. Might have been gold, or sacred relics, no one seems to be sure. She called it the Two Brothers Treasure. Said she found the account in an old journal written by a local man. He wasn’t famous, so the journal hasn’t really been studied. It’s just part of the collection of their local library.”
Maddock gave a thoughtful nod.
Bones continued. “Anyway, the natives finally tracked them here, well into Hocking County. They caught them and tortured them, but the brothers never told where they hid it. Supposed to be buried somewhere in the park. No one’s ever found it.” Bones grinned. “According to her, no one’s even looking for it.”
Maddock shrugged. “That’s really not much to go on. Is there more?”
“A little bit,” Bones said. “The way the legend goes, a hermit lived in the area and searched half his life for the treasure. He believed if he stood in the right spot at midnight, he’d hear the ghosts of the brothers whisper where the treasure is hidden.”
“Has anyone actually heard it?”
Bones shrugged. “Park closes at sunset, so nobody, except maybe park rangers, would ever have a chance to hear the ghosts.”
“Maybe we should have gone at night.” Maddock was skeptical of the veracity of most ghost stories, but recent events had convinced him that not every ghost story was false. “I’m guessing you did some independent research?”
“A little bit. Couldn’t sleep. Here’s what I’ve got. Pat and Nathanial Rayan lived in the park area, maybe the main cave around 1795. They might be buried in or near the cave, nothing definitive I’ve found yet. That’s the only account I could find of brothers being connected with the park.”
Maddock quirked an eyebrow. “Did you find anything about either of them being killed by Native Americans?”
“We aren’t like white dudes when dealing with thieves. We hide the evidence.”
Maddock shook his head and smiled before he and Bones discussed what places in the park might be of interest.
Maddock pulled to a stop at a T intersection. Brown signs with white lettering indicated the way to turn to reach the state park’s various attractions.
Maddock looked west, through the windshield. He didn’t need a forecast to tell rain was on the way, but not immediately. “Do we want to hit Old Man’s Cave first?” The other two they’d decided upon as potentially the most interesting were Conkle’s Hollow and Rock House.
“Unless the girls have another plan, maybe hit Conkle’s Hollow last,” Bones said. “Sounds like it’s named after some white dude’s—”
“Conkle’s Hollow it is,” Maddock said, interrupting his friend’s crude joke. While they’d brought rain gear, from what Bones described, Old Man’s Cave and Rock House probably had more natural shelter formations.
A short while later they pulled off State Route 374 onto a side road. A minute later they rolled into a small parking lot tucked between a picnic area that included several tables and a relatively new and modern restroom facility on one side, and a recently sown field on the other.
Nelli and Connie were standing near a stone wall next to an old cast-iron hand pump. The sun was low in the sky, behind the cover of clouds. It was a little on the cool side for a spring morning, with an occasional gusty breeze to emphasize the point.
“Glad you could make it,” Nelli said. “I tried to call and let you know where to meet us, but no joy.” She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket. “No signal out here. Happens every time.”
Bones checked his cell. “Yep. Lost our signals just after we turned off Route 33.”
Neither woman showed an ill-effects from the previous night’s adventure. They were alert and appeared ready to go. Even Connie was all smiles.
The four set off together. As they made their way toward a wooden bridge that led across a wide stream, Maddock tried to keep the conversation going.
“So, you know the park and surrounding area pretty well?”
“I visit here a lot, like my sister said.” Connie pointed to the tall flowers among the scattered sapling maple and oak trees. “If we were here on a sunny afternoon,” she said, casting a baleful glance at the gray sky, “we’d see Eastern Swallowtail butterflies and Hummingbird Clearwings, and maybe some Ruby-throated Hummingbirds.”
It was Maddock’s turn to nod. “Too bad about the weather, then.”
Connie shrugged and lapsed into silence.
They walked along a boardwalk spanning a marshy area before coming to the beginning of the Conkle’s Hollow trail and followed it down to a sign reading Rim Trail. Tall trees, many having grown straight up without branching out, striving to reach sunshine ahead of the others, filled the area. Beneath them, ferns and other ground plants covered the brown leaves that remained from the previous fall. The second set of steps and trail cut into the rock formation, winding up the hillside. If they went up one set, the trail would lead around the gorge and they’d return down the other.
Nelli untucked her shirt from her jeans and tied the ends in a knot, putting her tight stomach, and emphasizing her ample bosom. Bones clearly took notice, and Nelli pretended not to be aware of his attention.
“Which way?” Bones asked.
“I prefer the Gorge Trail,” Connie said, sensing her sister’s concern. “More scenic.” The last time they took the rim trail, her sister complained about the climb. She wouldn’t want to look bad in front of the two men accompanying them.
Bones tapped his boot on the sidewalk. “Urban scenic?”
Nelli took Bones’ arm. “It isn’t paved the entire way.”
“It’ll help keep you from getting lost,” Maddock chided, “like in that corn maze last fall.”
“Screw you, Maddock. Corn mazes are for rednecks.”
“We can always take the Rim Trail afterward,” Connie said. “Or move on to one of the other sites.”
Maddock had to admit, the trees, flowers and ferns, the skittering lizards and tiny fish in the shallow stream that meandered to their left, between the trail and the moss and vine-covered Black Hand sandstone cliff of the hollow, it was refreshing. Not as isolated, lush and filled with wildlife as the Amazon, but possibly in the top ten the Midwest had to offer.
A little farther down the trail the group stopped to look up at a bulging, bark-covered growth on a tree, like an encompassing knot larger than its trunk.
Maddock pointed out various aspects of the growth, then concluded, “Looks like a snapping turtle.”
Connie disagreed. “More like a Ninja turtle.”
“You guys are blind,” Bones said. “Pac-Man.”
Nelli was about to give her opinion when a voice sounded from somewhere down the trail, further into the hollow. The trees, plants and two-hundred-foot cliff walls both captured and muffled the distant words, but not so much that they couldn’t be made out.
“Go to hell, old man.” The deep voice carried menace. “It’s none of your damn business, so get moving.” A few seconds later it continued. “Am I gonna have to bitch slap your old, scrawny ass?”
For a fraction of a second Maddock and Bones exchanged glances before they moved side-by-side down the path. “Stay here,” Maddock said to their companions.
Maddock and Bones raced ahead, not at a full sprint, both watching and listening as they came around a small bend. They spotted an old couple easily in their late sixties moving their direction, the old man shuffling while looking back over his shoulder.
“Come on, Harold,” the old woman scolded in a hushed voice, tugging her husband by his hand. “We can find a ranger and let him deal with them.”
The couple stopped as Maddock and Bones approached. Maddock slowed and asked, “Are you all right? What happened?” Bones went around the couple, not breaking stride.
The woman started to say something, but the old man cut her off. “Three dirtbags are vandalizing the rocks back there.” He pointed with his thin walking stick.
Maddock nodded. “We’ll take care of it.” He ran to catch up to Bones, who was approaching the group.
“Hey, assclown, get back on the trail.”
“Did he say ‘assclown’?” Nelli had ignored Maddock’s instructions and followed them. Connie was not far behind.
“It’s his favorite word. Along with asshat.”
A heavily-muscled young man glared at Bones. “You talking to me?” Maddock recognized the voice as the one that had threatened the old elderly man. He wore a white sleeveless shirt sporting a Confederate flag on the front. A muscle-bound weightlifter, Maddock assessed, probably assisted by steroids, judging from the blond-haired man’s rampant acne. He was at least as tall as Bones.
The two other men with the loud-mouth thug were both between five-ten and six foot, and appeared to frequent the gym as well. They wore jeans and boots and T-shirts advertising fast cars and firearms. Unlike their bigger friend, who’d had his hair cut to mere stubble, they sported unruly mops hanging below their ears. Maddock was surprised none of them wore a battered John Deere cap.
It was apparent one of the three had been trying to scratch something into a boulder that had fallen away from the cliff decades ago. It looked like the beginnings of an arrow.
Bones folded his arms. “You answered to the name assclown, so yeah, I must have been talking to you.”
The young man cocked his head in disbelief before he began striding down from the defaced boulder, back toward the cement trail.
Without looking at them, Maddock said, “Stay back. We’ll handle this.”
“That’s Derek, a local,” Connie said. “Wrestled for some Big Ten school on a scholarship a few years ago. Flunked out. I think he works as a bouncer in Columbus, but he’s been telling anyone who’ll listen he has a tryout with the WWE next week.”
“He looks big and mean enough,” Nelli whispered back.
Derek made his way down the hill, grumbling, “What’s with all these damn Indians lately? They don’t sell cheap liquor in the park, so I don’t what’s here that they might be interested in.” Swaggering more as he got closer to Bones, Derek flexed his thickly muscled arms and clenched his fists. “What kind of man wears his hair in a ponytail?”
“Your mom didn’t mind it last night,” Bones said. “You should grow one, too. I’ll bet your boyfriends would love it.” Bones nodded in the direction of Derek’s companions.
“I’m gonna rip that thing off your head and stick it where the sun don’t shine.” Derek gritted his teeth and his pimple-riddled face reddened.
“So you’re pulling hair and talking about men’s butts?” Bones took a serious tone. “Look, kid, you don’t want to do this...”
Derek charged.
Bones stepped in, caught the larger man around the waist, and performed a judo-style hip toss. Derek landed flat on his back among a patch of ferns.
Maddock moved to interpose himself between Bones and the other two troublemakers as his friend looked down Derek.
“Give it up, dude,” Bones said. “It’s not going to end well for you.”
One of Derek’s companion’s charged at Bones. Moving quickly, Maddock kicked the attacker’s legs out from beneath him. The young man hit the ground hard but quickly clambered up on hands and knees. Maddock drove a knee into his temple, sending him slumping back to the ground.
Maddock took no pleasure in taking down men who were a good ten years his junior, but they were thugs who needed to learn an important lesson: There’s always someone out there tougher than you.
With a threatening finger, Maddock pointed at Derek’s other friend, who wisely lifted his hands in a placating move and took a few steps back.
Derek, however, was a slow learner. He got to his feet and turned, rubbing the back of his head.
“You’re about to do something stupid, aren’t you?” Bones said.
Again, Derek charged, just like before. Same move.
This time Bones had a half second more to prepare. Stepping back he delivered a right uppercut to Derek’s chin. The blow staggered the musclebound bully, but he kept coming. A left cross ended the contest.
Bones shook his left hand. “Damn, that dude’s jawbone is dense.”
As if to emphasize the point, dazed, Derek struggled to push himself to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth. He gritted his teeth, tensed himself to spring, and then collapsed to the ground again.
Derek’s companions hauled him to his feet. The duo didn’t argue as Maddock demanded their IDs. Using his phone, which he confirmed had no bars, he snapped a quick photo of each, vowing to report them to the authorities if the three did anything other than leave the park immediately.
“Or we’ll track you down and deal with you ourselves,” Bones added. The big Cherokee grabbed the men’s wallets from Maddock and took all the cash from each.
“You’re stealing from us?” Derek grumbled.
“You three vandals are making a donation to the park, since you just defaced it.” Bones looked at the older couple Derek had harassed earlier. They stood with the two girls, nodding in approval. “Will you two put this in the donation box at the trailhead?” They nodded in unison, accepted the cash, and hurried away.
“Do we need to follow you three to make sure you don’t give anyone a hard time?” Bones asked, handing them back their wallets.
Each assured them that they would be no further trouble. Maddock and company watched them until they limped out of sight.
“Well,” Nelli said, reaching out and taking Bones by the hand, “you guys sure know how to show a girl a good time.”