Page 9 of Howling Holidays

As I walk through town, I make a point of engaging with as many residents as possible, searching for any hint of belief or understanding about the legends and mysteries that consume my thoughts. But time and time again, I’m met with vague smiles and dismissive comments.

"Those old legends? Ha! Nothin' more than bedtime stories to keep the kids entertained," chuckles the burly bartender at the local tavern.

"Everwood is just like any other small town – we have our fair share of tall tales, but nothing truly supernatural," insists the postmistress, giving me a look that suggests I’m silly for even entertaining such notions.

The contrast between my own curiosity and the townspeople's reluctance to believe in the supernatural only fuels my determination to uncover the truth. There has to be someone out there who knows more than they’re letting on, someone who can help me connect the dots and reveal the secrets hidden beneath Everwood's quaint façade. Someone willing to talk more than Logan.

And yet, odd remarks seem to keep accruing upon my questioning, despite most residents' reservation. The lonely widow on Oak Lane confesses she leaves milk out for "the wandering spirits" each full moon. A quiet farmer describes briefly spotting "Old Greyback" scoping out his pasture from the tree line. Their tight-lipped evasiveness only makes me more eager to keep digging. The journalist in me just can’t shake this feeling of needing to find out what is going on, and why nobody is willing to talk about it openly.

Everwood clearly shelters more than just quirky small-town charm and holiday traditions. I am convinced its history holds buried truths that can reshape the present. And I seem fated to unearth them, though the task is proving more daunting than I expected. But I don’t give up that easily.

The one person I long to confide in remains stubbornly silent despite my delicate prodding. Logan meets me every morning without fail, but his mood seems increasingly solemn as the days pass. Our conversations dance around ominous topics I won’t confront directly yet, but there’s so much I want to ask him. I sense time is running short to share such secrets, especially since I’ll be heading back to Boston after Christmas. I can tell he knows something he’s not telling me, and I decide today I’ll try a different approach to getting the information I seek.

“So, how are the funeral preparations going?” Logan asks kindly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Going okay, I guess. Everything is set for the funeral service tomorrow night and then the burial is the morning after. I just can’t believe this is actually happening, especially right before Christmas, you know?”

“I totally understand, grief is hard and often finds us when it’s not convenient. But I guess there’s never really a good time for it, is there? If you need anything at all, I’m here for you.” He replies, reaching a hand out and gently placing it over mine.

“Thank you, Logan, I appreciate that. Actually, I was hoping you’d come with me to the funeral?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t find it to be a strange request. “Since I don’t know many people here very well it might be helpful to have a familiar face there. Amelia was my dad’s mother, and my relationship with mine has been strained since he died so she won’t be coming.”

“Of course, Emily, I’d be happy to. When my dad died it was nice to have my Grandma to turn to. That sucks about your relationship with your mom though, I’m sure that’s hard.”

“Yeah, ever since my dad died my mom’s been like a different person. The grief totally consumed her, which I understand, and she’s always angry. For a while it felt like she was taking it all out on me. I tried to get her help, but she refuses, so in a way I’ve kind of always been on my own since then.” I shared, hoping it wasn’t too much. Something about Logan just makes him feel so easy to open up to.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he offers sincerely. “My mom died when I was seven, and it drove my father completely mad too. Technically she disappeared, and he spent most of his time looking for her when he wasn’t managing the tree farm. So, I completely understand how it changes things. I can imagine that was difficult for you.”

“Thank you, Logan. I think feeling alone a lot of the time is what drove me to become a journalist, chasing exciting stories and connecting with other people. Well, that and my grandmother’s stories of Everwood’s folklore.” He keeps his hand on mine, and now that he’s in a sharing mood I figure it’s the best time to try digging for more.

“Speaking of,” I continue, "I've been talking to some of the elders in town, and they've shared intriguing stories about the supernatural."

"Have they now?" Logan asks with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his amber eyes. “And what exactly did they tell you?”

Crap.I feel like he’s trying to call my bluff. Technically they haven’t shared anything solid beyond suspicion, but it’s worth a shot I figure.

"Stories about strange supernatural beings that guard the town. Bonnie Albright said that there might be some truth hidden within these tales," I press on, my heart racing as I await his response.

Logan leans in closer, his eyes locking onto mine. "Emily, Everwood is a town full of mystery. Some of it is best left undiscovered."

"What do you mean? Don't you think it's important to understand the history here?" I counter, my determination unwavering.

“If it’s history you’re after, maybe you could try the library?” he offers.

Just then, the waitress brings out our breakfast and stops to chat with Logan for a few minutes about the seasonal operations at the tree farm. Logan looks relieved that our conversation had been interrupted. He might be trying to throw me off, but I don’t give up that easily. For now though, I decide I’ll give him a break from my constant questioning and enjoy our time together.

As our connection deepens, I can't shake the feeling that my arrival in Everwood is more than just a chance to reconnect with my grandmother's memory. The legends stir something within me, as if I am meant to discover their truths and play a role in this town's story. I will continue to unravel the mysteries one thread at a time.

Maybe these strange mysteries are best kept in Everwood's past. I know sensible logic tells me I should leave local folklore alone and enjoy a simple country Christmas, connecting with my old roots. It seems silly to go searching for curses and mythical beasts in some crazy quest. Yet madness calls to me too strongly to ignore. So, I decide to take Logan’s advice and head to the library after our cozy breakfast together, determined to learn more about Everwood's legends and folklore.

Despite my growing bond with Logan over our breakfast meetings, I can't shake the sense of unease that seems to follow me as I wander through the town. I feel eyes on me, like a predator in the shadows, stalking its prey. It’s not a feeling I’m used to, living in the bustling city where anonymity is the norm. I fear if I bring it up, Logan will just think I’m unhinged with how serious he normally is. But the same crawling sensation of being observed by hostile eyes plagues me frequently while walking through town. A creeping feeling of danger seems to seep from the very shadows around me, intent on keeping old secrets buried.

The quaint library sits across the square from the town hall, a charming old building with creaking wooden floors and towering shelves filled with dusty tomes. I can feel the weight of history around me as I peruse the ancient texts, searching for any references to the town's mysterious past.

"Can I help you find something?" a soft voice asks from behind me. I turn to see an elderly librarian peering at me through round spectacles, a curious smile on her face.

"Actually, yes," I reply, grateful for the assistance. "I'm looking for information on the legends and folklore of Everwood. I've heard some interesting stories from the townspeople, and I'd like to learn more."

"Ah, those old stories," she says, her eyes lighting up with interest. "You'll want to start with the town's founding and the early settlers. There are some fascinating tales of magic and supernatural occurrences that date back centuries."

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