There was no quiet way to reach the cabin near Moonbeam Creek.
Dead leaves covered the makeshift path leading to it, so each step added a loud, crunching noise to the typical sounds of the woodlands. Of course, with windchimes hanging from the ceiling of the old, rickety porch, the resident of the cabin was surely used to plenty of noise.
Moonbean Creek – or at least the forest that it split – was thought to be the home of the “Moonbean Monster,” a tall, ape-like creature that had allegedly roamed these woods for decades.
Like the Yeti or Bigfoot, it was often seen only in shadows or quick glimpses; there was never any positive proof it existed, and no bones or bodies had ever been found. But tall tales? It had spawned its share.
What made the Moonbeam Monster different from the other creatures, though, is that amateur “monster hunters” Lexie Thornton and Dex Schneider had proof. They had long been fascinated by the folklore surrounding mythical beings, and a year or so earlier had taken a special interest in the Moonbean Monster.
The creek was a popular spot for anglers, and Lexie and Dex had spent hours upon hours talking with several of them – most all claiming they had had some kind of encounter with it.
Calling it a “monster,” however, didn’t square with what they heard from those who had experienced such close contact. Other than being startling in its hirsute form, the Moonbeam Monster seemed peaceful enough. It would often be spied grabbing elderberries or pawpaws, then quickly disappearing into the wild.
The pair of sleuths decided to place cameras on trees throughout the area, and even employed drones on occasion to cover more ground.
Over 12 months they had collected plenty of photos and videos, but the most compelling was a grainy, night vision clip that saw the Moonbean Monster walk up to the cabin, step on the porch, open the door, and then lean down and walk inside.
As they approached the domicile, they didn’t know who – or what – to expect after they knocked on the door.
“Hi, I’m Lexie Thornton and this is my partner, Dex Schneider,” Lexie said. “We were hoping you’d give us a few minutes of your time.”
The heavyset man who opened the door appeared to be in his late 60s or early 70s, his thinning white hair combed straight back and his flannel shirt bulging just above the beltline of baggy, faded blue jeans.
“I ain’t religious, I don’t need no magazines and I ain’t registered to vote,” he said. “Whatever y’all are sellin’, I ain’t interested.”
As he started to close the door, Dex piped up.
“Please, sir,” he said. “We’re not trying to sell you anything. We just want to talk to you about the Moonbean Monster.”
The man smiled, swung the door open and made a sweeping motion with his hand, gesturing the two to come in.
The inside of the cabin was spartan; a single bed, table with four chairs, and small kitchen area with a wood-burning stove.
There were no paintings and no “homey touches” of any kind.
“Pull up a chair,” said the man.
“May I ask your name?” Lexie said.
“Sure,” said the man. “But I ain’t telling ‘cause it don’t matter. You said you wanted to know about Moonie; nothin’ about me is interesting.”
He pulled a chair away from the table and situated it near the fireplace.
“I’m guessing y’all are the ones that put them cameras up everywhere and fly them little contraptions through here,” he said. “Why did you go and do something like that? Moonie ain’t botherin’ you – or nobody else. Never has.”
Dex produced a tablet, made a couple of quick swipes, and showed the man a photo of the monster entering his house.
“Sir, the Moonbean Monster – or Moonie as you call him – has been in your house,” he said. “Were you here when it happened?”
The man chuckled.
“Moonie has been comin’ and goin’ from here for as long as I’ve been here,” he said. “And I’ve been here since before you two was even born. Look here.”
The man walked over to a box near his sink and produced a handful of pawpaws.
“Moonie likes these a lot,” he said. “I always keep some on hand for when he visits.”
Lexie pulled a small recording device from her pocket.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
“I don’t care,” the man said. “But you ain’t gonna be here long and I ain’t got much to say other than Moonie lives in these parts just like I live in these parts … just like deer and turkeys and whatever else you can find in these woods live here.
“If you think I’m gonna do anything to put him in danger, well, that ain’t gonna happen. When people come sniffin’ around looking for somethin’ everybody thinks is different, it usually don’t end real well for the thing that’s different.”
Before Dex or Lexie could say anything, the man walked to the door and opened it.
“Moonie ain’t no monster,” he said. “He just wants to be left alone. Now y’all need to leave. Anybody else comes sniffin’ around, I’ll just tell ‘em y’all are pullin’ a hoax.”
Lexie and Dex got up, smiled politely, and walked out onto the porch. The man could hear them talking, and then listened as they crunched their way toward the creek.
It would be nightfall in a couple of hours … once again giving him the opportunity to venture out into the woods.
He could already tell a cool evening was in store, perfect for a fox – or maybe a hound dog or racoon.
Moonie was his natural form, but with all the unwanted attention it was time to give that shape a rest for a while – at least long enough for the monster hunters to lose interest, take down their cameras and move on to some other venture.
Once the sun sank and he saw the creekside clear of humans, he took off his clothes, opened the door, and darted out into the night.
