On Saturday morning a chill drizzle settled on our heads and shoulders as we trudged along the coal route toward Ben’s cabin. Charlie, showing her smarts, wore a green jacket with a hood while the rest of us pulled our coat collars over our ears to keep as dry as possible. Brian removed his glasses several times to wipe off the moisture. “I’m gonna get contact lenses when I can afford them. This isn’t any fun,” he griped, dabbing at them again.

          Jason’s black eye was beginning to heal, the color fading from black to purple and yellow. “Looks like you’ve been icing your eye,” Charlie observed.

          “Yeah, I think it’s getting a little better,” Jason answered as he brushed some rain water off his cheek.

          “Have you spent your prize money yet?” I asked him.

          “Not yet. I can’t make up my mind what to buy. But, don’t worry. I put it in a safe place.” None of us questioned where he hid it, just glad that his dad hadn't gotten his hands on it.

          Taking the fork in the trail through the woods, the trees sheltered us from the incessant sprinkle, but big, random drops fell from the tree branches. It was impossible to dodge all of them.

          We detected some changes as the cabin came into view. Ben built a pen for the chickens, sinking seven posts into the ground and stretching chicken wire around them. The enclosure allowed them some freedom to wander about and provided protection from foxes and other predators. All six of the birds were scratching and pecking in the dirt and sparse grass. We saw that our friend had also installed the metal roof we’d salvaged from the mine.

          When we were close enough to hear the chickens clucking, the cabin door swung open wide. “Well, Lord Almighty, I certainly didn’t expect you kids on day like this. C’mon inside and dry off. The wood stove’s still warm from breakfast.”

          We stepped inside, took off our sneakers, and placed them next to the stove to dry. The aroma of an eggs and bacon breakfast still lingering in the air, we hung our coats on the wall pegs next to the door. The cabin was cozy and comfortable, and the drip, drip on the metal roof fell into a rhythmic, hypnotic pattern.

          “Well, what brings you all the way out here in this weather? Must be somethin' important.” He gave us a half smile like he knew why we'd come. Although he didn’t say anything, the old man examined Jason’s black eye from a distance.

          Charlie took the lead. “My parents grounded me until today for being so late on Monday, or else we would have visited you earlier. I guess all of us had plenty of time on our hands between then and now to think things over -- especially that armed escort you gave us. Nathan even spent some of his time doing research at the library.”

          “And what kind of research are we talkin’ about, Nathan?” Ben’s forehead wrinkled and his right eyebrow arched, swiveling his head in my direction.

          “Mostly about Pardou’s Pit and the disappearances over the years,” I answered, shifting my weight back and forth from one foot to the other.

          “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me? I shoulda known – especially after the way I behaved on Monday. Well, now, go ahead. Tell me what you found out.”

          I hesitated for a moment to collect my thoughts. “The first thing I learned is why it’s called Pardou’s Pit. A guy named Charles Pardou was the only survivor of the 1889 coal mine explosion. He climbed out through that escape shaft down there.” I gestured in the direction of The Pit. “Did you know that?”

          “Nope.” Ben shook his head. “That information's brand new to me although I did know The Pit is an old coal mine ventilation shaft. What else didja come up with?”

          “I figured out that all the missing people on record came after the mine disaster. I also found out that when the rescuers dropped down into the mine, they discovered a whole new set of tunnels and rooms uncovered by the explosion. Did you know that?”

          “I did know that. You ain’t the only ones who’ve got library cards. I did a bit of research myself.”

          “The biggest thing I learned is that there’s only so much you can learn from research.” Taking the bit between my teeth, the two biggest questions popped out of my mouth. “We think you know a whole lot more than you’re telling. What do you know about The Pit, and . . . what do you know about the creature called Old Ned?”

          Ben squinted his eyes and clenched his jaw.  With his left hand he wiped his forehead with a white handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, and then he took a deep gulp of air and expelled it through his mouth. Little by little, his brow became smooth and his jaw relaxed, deciding to tell his story.

          “I guess I’ve been so busy protectin’ you kids from the truth, I didn’t understand I was puttin’ you in harm’s way. On Monday evenin' when I took you to the main trail, I was worried about your safety and teed off at myself at the same time.” He paused to take another deep breath, and his eyes roamed to each of us. “You kids gotta promise me something. You gotta promise me you won’t tell a single soul about what passes through my lips this morning.” Then he waited.

          Charlie answered for all of us. “Sure, Ben, if you say . . . but why all the secrecy?”

          “Just take a minute to think about it. If you was to tell folks there was a dangerous, mystery beast livin’ underground out here, most of them would just laugh at you. And . . . I gotta protect myself too. If you blabbed about what I’m gonna tell you, the authorities would probably come out here and cart me away to the loony bin.”

          I jumped in. “I see what you mean. Don’t worry, Ben, we’ll keep our mouths shut . . . all of us!” I heaved a hard look in Bear’s direction until he made a zipping motion across his lips with his thumb and forefinger.

          Ben nodded and began his story. “When I saw this meadow a few years back, I couldn’t think of a more perfect place to live. So, I started gatherin’ together the materials to build my home. On days the weather was nice , I used to sleep out here too. I’d just put my bedroll under the vine maple growin’ next to the rock outcropping . . . till one night when I woke up to this scufflin’ sound. It was a scratchin’, crawlin’ sound movin’ through the grass. Sounded like an animal was draggin’ something.

          “But the smell in the air told me this wasn’t no ordinary animal. The sound kept gettin’ louder, and the odor in the air was like something dead just before the rot sets in, sweet and sickly.  Lucky I packed my heavy duty flashlight with me. I grabbed and pointed it in the direction of the sound. When I flicked it on, all I could see was two big, oval-shaped eyes, reflected by the light, starin’ back at me. When the light hit the eyes, it let out a screech that scared the bejeezus outta me, and then it scuttled down the hill. At the same time I felt a little tremble in the ground like a small earthquake.

          “I got up and walked over to where I saw it. It’d left behind a dead deer with a big puncture wound in its throat layin’ in the grass. I guess it was draggin’ the deer back to its den – probably The Pit. I stayed awake with my flashlight ready till dawn, and then I tramped into town. The whole thing shook me up so bad that I didn’t come back for a couple days. By that time the deer carcass had clean vanished.

          “That was the last night I camped out. After that, I stayed in town at night till the cabin was finished.”

          Brian couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Oh, man, weren’t you scared? I woulda been petrified!”

          “You bet I was scared. I knew right then and there that creature wasn’t nothin' to mess with.”

          “So, when you finished the cabin, did that thing come back?” Jason wondered out loud.

          “Well, not right away. After I moved in, nothing happened for a long time. I’d installed windows with latches and a big throw bolt for the door, and so I thought I was pretty darn safe. But one night, a scratchin’ sound at the door woke me up. I just laid there for a while listenin’ until the sound stopped. I thought whatever it was had gone away.

          “I sneaked outta bed to peek through the window when something started shakin’ the door, and no throw bolt was gonna keep it outside.”

          Ben rose from his chair and slid it to the side, exposing a dull gray metal ring in the floor. “That’s where I keep my fruits and vegetables and anything I need to keep cool. Now, I also use it as my hidey-hole.” He lifted a hinged, trap door exposing steps that led to a dugout, earthen cellar under the cabin. He brought over his lit kerosene lamp and lowered it inside, and we gathered around to take a peek. It was tiny, but if we squeezed, all of us could fit inside. The cellar was lined with shelves full of fresh apples, green vegetables, a sack of potatoes – even a half gallon of milk. “Yep, this is my climate controlled chamber where I keep fresh stuff. I crawled in here that night and stayed till the ruckus was done above me and I was sure it was morning. When I got up, things was a mess. The table was turned over, dishes was broken, and the door hung on only one hinge.”

          He eased the trap door into place and pulled his lazy chair back over it. “After that night I bought my double-barreled shotgun.”

          I gestured toward the windows and door as I moved back to my seat on the bunk. “When did you put up the inside shutters and double bar the door?”

          “Well, I'll be, ain't you got the keen eyes!” Ben started cackling his high-pitched, sandpaper laugh. “Most folks who visit don’t even notice those. I installed those to make my home even more secure. I first put in metal cleats so I could bar the door. Then decidin' two bars would work better than one, I doubled the number of cleats. The shutters came next. I put on hooks to fasten ‘em to the window frame. Then for good measure, I put a cleat in the middle of each shutter so I could bar them together too. And it’s a good thing I did.

          “Old Ned or whatever it’s called was out to get me, I swear." Ben was on his feet really excited now, pacing back and forth and making hand and arm gestures with each phrase and sentence. "One night I stayed up late finishin’ a book in my easy chair. About ready to blow out the lantern, I got a case of the neck prickles – you know, the feeling you get when something’s watchin’ you. I turned down the lantern and tip-toed over to the bed to get my shotgun. All of a sudden, the door starts shakin’, and I smell that strange odor again. With just a throw bolt, the door woulda popped open, but the bars on the door kept it out.

          “By this time I was so scared and so mad I parked myself in front of the door and yelled ‘get outta here, or I’ll blow you to kingdom come!’ The door rattlin’ stopped. Then I heard a screech that’d wake the dead, and the whole cabin started shudderin’ like a regular earthquake. I hopped back and held the stove to keep it from bouncin’ around when a couple of window panes shattered. Then it stopped. Nothing.” With a plop, Ben sat back down in his chair.

          Brian used the pause to ask, “What d’ya think caused all that shaking?”

          “Don’t know for certain. I can only guess. I know it wasn’t an earthquake, so it’s my guess that thing’s got some power to cause things to move about. I don' think it's big enough to cause it with its arms or legs. I expect it’s a mental sorta power when it’s hurt, scared, or mad. A strong feelin' can probably set it off.”

          “You mean like telekinesis – the mental ability to move things?” I broke in.

          “If that’s the word for it, then . . . yes. Of course, there’s no way to prove it.” Ben sunk back in his chair and closed his eyes. I could see that his story had taken a lot of energy out of him.

          “I have one more question if you can handle it.” I got up from the bunk where I’d sat next to Charlie and gazed out the window. The rain had ceased, and patches of blue sky opened between the clouds, letting brilliant sunlight stream through.

          “Go ahead,” he nodded, “I suppose I can answer one more.”

          “Knowing that thing is still out there, how can you keep living out here like this?”

          “That’s an easy one. I ain't never lived in such a beautiful place. Just look at the forest and the meadow. I’m not gonna let a bad neighbor force me to leave. Besides, if you follow certain rules, like build your house like a fort and don’t go out at night, there ain’t nothing to worry about.” He chuckled a bit and showed a tired smile. “Besides, we’re probably the intruders. This whole area used to be its huntin’ grounds. That mine explosion opened up it’s den to Pardou's Pit years back. Till then it probably didn’t hurt nobody, at least around here.”

          Ben had answered all our questions, and it was time to go. Although he offered us lunch, we thanked him but refused. We could use the break in the weather to return home without being rained on.

          We put on our shoes and coats while Ben took Jason aside and talked to him for a moment. We could only guess the subject; we didn’t find out for sure until later.

          Ready to go, we thanked him for telling us the truth, although we would never think of The Pit and this whole place in the same way again. On that day some of our innocence vanished. Maybe it was an unwelcome intruder too.

          As we hiked down the meadow, we heard Ben's voice call out. “Remember, my young friends, don’t tell a soul.”