Music To My Fears

I woke up fifteen minutes before the alarm went off. Then I laid there in bed about another five minutes.

Finally I got up and washed up, put on my uniform, and gathered my stuff. Travel vest. EMF detector. Camera. I grabbed the CCGS cemetery book that covered the north end of the county. 

Then I walked downstairs to have some coffee and check my e-mails.

An hour after getting up, I was climbing into the van with the SPI team and Millie to do a paranormal investigation.

Worth it.

"Ole Bull State Park," I said,"Was named for a famous musician. He came to this area in the mid-1800s, and wanted to set up a series of communities that looked like his native Norway. But the guy who was selling him the land didn't actually own it, in the sense that he'd paid for it or let the actual owners know, and Ole Bull lost money on it. He was building a castle on top of the hill, and he played his violin there for a while, then, according to the legend, threw it off and wandered into the woods."

"Is the castle still there?" asked Tim from the back of the van.

"The ruins. Basically a foundation. It's a short but very steep hike. People say you can still hear Ole Bull's violin playing sometimes, on a dark night."

 "Where's this other place you wanted to stop by?" Vince asked, driving.

"It's in Leidy Township. Back in 1950---Seventy-five years ago, this summer---Two local reporters went up and interviewed Hiram Cranmer, the postmaster. He told them about a headless ghost roaming in the area. They went up and staked it out---It's a cemetery very near a bridge across Kettle Creek---And came back with a photo of a white, smoky shape. Humanoid with no head. It ran on the front page the next day. I've written about this a bunch of times."
"I've seen those articles," said Tim. "Our historian finds some pretty good places to stop."

"Your historian has a tendency to overplan," I said.

"Looks like Ole Bull is right up ahead," said Vince.

"Pull up to the main office," I said. "I want to score a few maps."

We pulled up at the parking area. I walked over to the main office and grabbed a couple of Ole Bull maps, and checked around to see what else they had. I found some maps of Kettle Creek, and I picked those up, too. 

I walked back to the van.

"They have Bigfoot stickers for sale in there, if anyone's interested," I said.

We started unloading. I pulled on my vest---Not the bulletproof tactical, but a lighter one that was easier to pack---And I loaded it up with my equipment. Devaughn and Tim unloaded a power wheelchair for Millie. Millie, my partner investigator for almost twenty years, was getting older, and I wasn't entirely on board with the idea.

"Oh, you brought some walkies," commented Tim. I was taking them out of my bag and putting one in my pocket.

"Yeah, I got three in case we get separated."

"We brought ours, too." He opened a long case containing several comlinks. I looked them over; they were nice models.

"Those will communicate through a mile of concrete," Vince told me. "I put them together out of some spare parts I found for a couple of bucks."

I like hanging with Vince. He's my best chance of getting a functioning teleporter eventually.

"Hell, then, let's use yours." I dropped mine back into my bag.

"Excuse me." There was a man riding by on a bike with his son. "Do you mind if I ask what you're doing? I noticed the outfits."

We do often look a little unusual. My outfit consists of a black vest with extra pockets and a bandanna around my right ankle. Tim's is similar but a little more formal, with a polo shirt with the logos on it and suspenders. And Devaughn's is a marvel---Camouflage, almost a military look, but covered in all sorts of paranormal patches showing cryptids, ghosts, and aliens.

"Oh, we're Swartz Paranormal," Tim explained. "We're here to look into stories of Ole Bull haunting the place. Our historian turned that up."

"Oh, now, that's interesting," the man said. "Do you guys have some sort of website or page that you'll be putting up any findings?"

"You can check us on Facebook," Tim said. I handed him one of the LHPS business cards.

'Which way do we want to go?" Tim asked me.

"The bridge is right over there," I said. "Right across is the monument to Ole Bull. From there, it's a short but very steep hike up to the castle ruins."

"Would the monument be a good place to get a group picture for the Facebook page?" he asked.

"It would," I said.

We walked across the park and over the bridge. I could see the Ole Bull monument from the distance as we approached. It had been a couple of years since I'd been up with my family, but everything was where  remembered it.

We stopped and had a camper take our photo gathered by the monument. Then I said,"The castle is up this way," and we started up.

"Which way?" Millie stopped the power chair at the fork in the trail.

"Either," I said. "It loops, and leads to the castle."

She chose the right path, which looked slightly less steep. The others followed along, helping her in the chair. I  turned left, and walked up the hill, and ended up at Ole Bull's castle ruins.

It was mostly a foundation now, with a sign up describing what it had once been. Standing high on top of the mountain, I looked over everything. I love those moments---Getting to stand where the historic people stood, seeing where things happened over a century ago. Feeling those ripples from history, knowing you're part of it now.

The others came up the path. Devaughn began walking around the trail, looking at the perimeter, while Tim and I started checking for EMFs. Vince got out the spirit box and set it up on a bench, and turned it on.

"Anything?" Tim asked me.

I shook my head. "Not yet. Clearly no power lines or anything up here, but I'm not reading any ghosts, either. Temperature is consistent at about sixty."

The spirit box suddenly blared to life, sounding out several musical notes. They were loud chords, deep and haunting, and they sounded out through the valley below.

Tim turned to look at me.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

"It was rather hard to miss."

"There shouldn't be any radio signals up here."

"And Ole Bull's ghost is said to play music," I said. "I think we have something."

I felt a raindrop. I looked up. The wind was blowing the clouds in over the mountain, and it was beginning to rain.

"Damn it," I said,"It wasn't supposed to rain today."

"You never do know," commented Millie. "It's been pretty wet lately."

"We should get the equipment out of the rain," said Vince.

I nodded.

"Let's get everything packed up."

"Sorry this one as a bust," said Vince as he packed up the equipment in the van.

Tim glanced at him. "Seriously?"

"What the hell gives you that idea?" I asked. "We got some music notes over the spirit box. This was a great investigation!"

"So, if we have time and everyone agrees," I said,"We can stop in Leidy Township on the way home."

We'd found a restaurant along Route 6 and stopped to eat. I was having a shrimp basket, sitting next to Millie, much like we usually did.

"Back in August of 1950," I said,"Two staffers from the local newspaper staked out the area and spotted a headless ghost. It was said to be the ghost of a man beheaded by the Native Americans after trying to steal some of their treasure. They got a photo of it, in fact, which was a pretty good piece of evidence. I'd like to stop by and check it out."

"And you know the place?" Tim asked.

I nodded. "The article said it was in Leidy Township. It mentioned a cemetery and a bridge, right over Kettle Creek. I've checked the locations of all the cemeteries in the township, and there's only one that matches the description. Truth is, I've always wanted to visit all the cemeteries in Clinton County, and this is a chance to check this one off my list."

"Well," said Vince,"If it's along 144, we can take that down to the Renovo Road, which takes us right past Millie's on the way home. It's basically on our way."

"You gonna eat those chips?" I asked Millie.

"Right here. Right here," I said excitedly. "The bridge."

Vince made the turn onto the bridge, and I said,"Right there is the cemetery."

"Where can I park?"

"I guess here on the grass, by the road."

He pulled up. I climbed out of the van and looked at the cemetery, and the others followed. I walked through, looking at the graves. 

"Which one is the oldest in the cemetery?" Tim asked me.

I checked the cemetery book I'd brought along. "I have one from 1907....That one seems to have been moved from Maple Grove, when they built the Kettle Creek Dam. A lot of cemeteries ended up underwater during that project. If we don't count that one, I have one from 1922. I'm seeing some Summersons in here....David Summerson died and is said to be riding a phantom horse in the area."

"Cool."

"The reporters sat up here in their car for a while, probably about where we parked, and then walked down to the bridge. It was there that they saw the ghost. it was described as a headless, smoky sort of white shape. It moved toward them, and they ran back to the car and went for a whiskey."

"Up in Cross Fork?"

"I think down to Renovo, but I'm not sure. Over the drinks, they decided that they needed a photo, so they went back. This time, they saw it again and got a photo, and ran back to the newspaper to develop it and write up the story."

Tim grinned.

"Shall we?"

We walked down the road to the bridge, Tim, Devaughn and me. We looked at the bridge going over Kettle Creek, and I stopped for a moment, looking out over the creek, the same place two other reporters had seen a ghost so many years ago.

The ghost was spotted right down there. And, seventy-five years later, here I am. Tracing the footsteps, looking at the same place. Learning about it, and becoming. A part of history.

When they dropped me off back at my place, Paul and the girls next door were playing in the backyard. I carried my bags around to go inside.

"Hi, Dad!" Paul called, not pausing in his bouncing on the trampoline.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Hi, Lou!" said Love, also bouncing. "Where have you been?"

"Been up north, hunting ghosts."

"Cool! Tell us some stories?"

I smiled.

"Sure. Let me get unpacked, and then I'll tell you all about it."

Cloudy With A Chance Of Hauntings

Every once in a while, Tif and I tried to have breakfast together, almost like we were normal people. It was a pleasant Friday morning. We sat at McDonald's, eating our breakfast and chatting before work.

"Been at kind of loose ends lately, adventure-wise," I said, drinking my coffee. "I had all sorts of fun running around Lancaster and New Castle, but now that that's over with, I don't know what else to do. It's been slow."

"Oh, god," said Tif.

"What?"

"You get into some of the craziest ones when you get bored. When you have nothing to do for a while, out come the maps and Shoemaker books, and you get into something insane."

"I mean, I hope. I could use something like that right now. I thought I was going to get to investigate a haunted tobacco store, but that turned out to be nothing."

"Nothing on the horizon?"

"Couple of potential adventures scheduled in June. Nothing too exciting planned right now. I don't always do wild stuff when I get bored."

"Remember that time you had Biz and me put a rain spell on the whole city? What was that, about fifteen years ago?"

"Something like that. 2007 sounds about right."

"That was interesting. Something like that, maybe?"
"Right now, just about anything would do."

Tuesday night. Michelle and Paul were out taking Biz grocery shopping, and I had the house to myself. Sort of. Rosie and Butters were around, and Cookie the hamster, and Ida was around someplace. You're never really alone in my house.

I heard the wind outside, kicking up. A storm was coming. I stepped out onto the back porch to watch.

I love storms. They're like a free firework show with a somewhat slow-paced but exciting movie. I stood on the porch for a while, watching as it built.

Thunder and lightning. I love that. The wind was pounding everything; I watched our tree blow back and forth violently. I could hear the garbage cans get knocked over on the northwest side of the house. I stopped just out of range of the rain and watched for a while.

"What's for dinner?" Michelle asked as she came into the house.

"Sausage, corn, and baked potatoes," I said. "After dinner, I need to run up to Highland Cemetery to get some photos."

"Okay."

"There was some tree damage from the storm. I've sold the idea of an article to my editors, so I need some photos to send with it." I put the sausage in the oven. "I wonder if that stirs up the ghosts."

I turned the oven on. Then I stopped to think about that.

Then I sat down at my computer and sent a message to the team.

"So....Highland?" said Tif.

This time, we were sitting on the sidewalk on Main Street, in front of the Texas Restaurant. We were having Growlers, a specialized chili dog. It's the closest thing you can get to a Lock Haven cuisine. 

I nodded. "We have some trees down up there. A lot of the time, damage can cause more activity, similar to the way home repairs do. It seems to rile them up. So I'm taking the team up to check it out."

"When you going?"

"Saturday evening seems to be the best time. I checked with Dave, the cemetery manager. He wants to join us."

"Think you'll find anything?"

"We'll see. The potential is definitely there."

"At least it'll keep you busy."

"Which is probably best for society anyway."

"Lou?" Tom called back. "Two guys are here asking for you."

"Thanks, Tom." I walked up to the front office, expecting some sort of history question, and instead found Tim an Devaughn standing by the counter. I grinned.

"Hi, guys! What's up?"

"Well, we stopped by to check and see what equipment we need for Saturday," said Tim.

"I'd say the basic stuff. We don't need anything too complicated; just what you can carry. We'll meet up at the top of the cemetery---Drive up the hill and look for Soldiers' Circle."
"We also wanted to order some stickers and business cards," said Tim. "And we need a logo designed for the team."

"My friend Emily can help you with that," I said. "Emily?"

Emily stood up from her desk and brought over an invoice. "Sure, I can help with that. When do you need it by?"

"June seventh would be good if you can," said Tim. "If not, that's okay too."

"I think that's plenty of time," said Emily. 

"LHPS has a logo, I think SPI needs one, too," said Tim. "LHPS is a ghost. For ours, maybe a haunted house or something?"

"I can come up with something," agreed Emily.

"Just run it past Lou when you get it," said Tim. "I trust him."

"I trust Emily," I said. "She's really good."

"Dad, can you walk me down to Juliet's?" Paul asked.

I looked at my watch. I had plenty of time, and it was a nice day out. "Sure," I said. "Come on, let's go."

We walked down to his friend's house, a block and a half away. When Paul tapped at her door, Juliet appeared, and Paul handed her a popsicle.

"Hey, kiddo," I said,"Is your mom home?"

"Sure," said Juliet. She ran upstairs. A moment later, her mother appeared.

"Hi, Amanda," I said. "Sorry to bug you."

"Oh, it's no problem," she said. "What's up?"

"We're going to investigate Highland Cemetery tonight," I said. "About seven to nine-ish. Would it be okay with you if I invited Juliet along?"

"Sure, she'd love that."

Paul ran to grab Juliet, and said,"Juliet! Do you want to come and investigate a cemetery with---"

"Yes," said Juliet.

I smiled. "We'll pick her up and drop her off."

It was seven when we stopped at Highland and got out. Me, Tim, Devaughn, Vince, and Petey, plus Paul and Juliet. I was wearing my usual outfit---The LHPS uniform, black jeans, black bandanna, boots with skulls on them, fingerless gloves, and the tactical vest. 

"Storm damage is over here," I said. "Looks like they've started cleaning some of it up. We had a few trees down up here along the top, mostly right around this area."

Tim's outfit was a lot like mine, but more official-looking somehow. He had a polo shirt with symbols on the sleeves, a vest and equipment belt, and heavy fingerless gloves. Devaughn had a more military-style outfit with cargo pants, an equipment belt, and a camouflage jacket with paranormal patches all over it.

"You want your vest right now?" I asked Paul.

He  shook his head. He was still in his soccer uniform from that morning, which he took some pride in. "Not right now, Dad."

"I'll wear it," volunteered Juliet.

I put it on her. It fit better than I thought it would; she's pretty tiny, but it worked well enough.

"This is Soldiers' Circle," I said. "The first black soldier to fight with a white unit in World War I is here. Over there is a guy who was an honor guard at Lincoln's funeral. John Sloan, the famous artist, is over there. That statue down there---That's Peter Meitzler. He was built with a beer glass in his hand, but during Prohibition, some temperance ladies came along and smashed it off."

"Really?" Paul asked. "Where?"
"I'll show you. My suggestion tonight is we set up shop near the Kistler Mausoleum; we've had activity there before."

"We have some new 3D printed stands for the EMF detectors," said Tim. "Wait until you see."

"Do you have any more equipment, Dad?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, kid, it's all in the black bag."

We began unpacking. Vince and Tim got out their EMF detectors, and set them up on stands around the mausoleum. I took some photos and checked things out with my all-in-one. Juliet followed along, fascinated by it all.

Paul and I walked down the path to the Meitzler statue, overlooking the city. I said,"See? You can see where his fingers are all broken off, where he was holding the glass."

"I see it," agreed Paul. "They should put it back."

"That idea has been proposed," I admitted.

We walked back toward Soldiers' Circle, where Tim and Devaughn were exploring. I said,"Henry Shoemaker's grave is right over there."

"Well, I gotta see this," said Tim.

We walked over to Shoemaker's grave. I'd been there a million times before; Shoemaker was one of my big heroes. Tim said,"I love this. Get my picture, Devaughn."

I took a walk around the top of the cemetery. All of the historic people up here....Former mayors, business owners, writers. It had been slow since returning from Lancaster, but this was exciting. I'd always loved Highland Cemetery; to me it represented the best of Lock Haven's past. I always came out of it knowing I was going to end up here myself one day....And thinking, Well, that's okay.

I rejoined the others. We walked around the loop at the top of the hill, taking reading and looking at the historic graves. Then we returned to the Kistler Mausoleum.

"The EMF detectors are lighting up," Devaughn pointed out.

The detectors we'd set up around the mausoleum were spiking from green to yellow. I walked around to the north side. "Over here, too. And there's no reason for it---There's no lights, no power lines up here at all."

"No," agreed Tim. "Didn't you say you'd gotten some activity like this before?"

I nodded. "Several years ago, I was up here with Millie and Charlie. We got a lot of similar activity, without any explanations, right here in this same mausoleum. It's probably Gertrude Kistler, who drowned on a family vacation when she was twelve, in 1920---Her grandparents are here."

"Still going," said Vince.

I looked over the flashing lights.

"We got activity, guys. We got this."

 It was a nice night. After, Paul and Juliet were hanging out on the trampoline in the backyard. I brought out some reheated hot dogs for them.

"Here you go, guys. Eat up." Paul had claimed to be hungry after the investigation, which wasn't surprising. For some reason, I often come home from investigations hungry myself, and he's always hungry these days.

The two of them ate their hot dogs. I said,"You guys learn anything tonight?"
Juliet nodded with some enthusiasm. "Yeah!"

I asked,"You have a good time?"

"Bet," said Paul.

"Yeah!" said Juliet. "And it kept me busy all night!"

I smiled.

"Me too."

Dance Dance Apparition: Part Three

"There it is," I said. "Up ahead, on the left. There's the bus."

Back in Lancaster. Paul had one more dance competition, and this was the big one. Michelle was driving, with Paul and his best friend Rylan in the back. She pulled into the driveway of the farmhouse, and past the barn, and three dogs came running out to greet us.

There was a big Irish setter, a mutt, and a tiny spaniel. Michelle said,"I hope they don't get in the way of the jeep."

"They're my new best friends," I said,"And I would die for them." And I got out of the jeep.

They ran over, and sniffed me, and I petted them all. Paul and Rylan followed a moment later, and petted them. The little one was the friendliest, and kept snuggling up to me for more attention. After a while, I was able to tear myself away from the dogs, and unload the luggage. I put it in the bus.

Michelle had booked us a refurbished bus to stay in. The old school bus had been made over into almost a cottage, with beds, sofas, and a little kitchen. I walked around the place a little bit, checking things out.

"Good. There's coffee." I held up the salt shaker. "Hey, Paul. Check this out."

Paul looked up. "Pink salt?" he said. "What is wrong with people?"

The kids were bouncing on the sofas when I got all the luggage unpacked, and I sat down at the desk.

"We have to get up at seven to get you to the hotel on time," I told Paul. "The hotel where you're dancing tomorrow was built basically with two historic buildings inside it. One of them was owned by Thaddeus Stevens, who helped amend the Constitution. It may have been on the Underground Railroad."

"Slay," said Paul.

"They're old buildings. I hear they might be haunted. You want to do some investigating, if we get a chance?"

"Sure," said Paul.

"Yes," said Rylan.

"I have some of the equipment with me," I said. "I'll bring it along in case you get a moment in between acts."

It was early morning when we got to the hotel, and raining. The hotel was gigantic. We walked in from the parking garage. I was wearing my Rachael's Dance Unlimited shirt, and my LHPS hoodie. I'd investigated in worse. The bus was close quarters and there wasn't much of a shower, so I'd skipped shaving, but it wasn't too noticeable yet. I have the facial hair of an eight-year-old girl. I'd brought my small sling pack, with a few pieces of equipment and my phone in it.

"There's my team," Paul said. "See you guys later!"

He took off to be with the other kids. Michelle said,"I'm going to find the stage and get some seats. You gonna look around?"

"Yeah,  figure so," I said. "Paul's already disappeared, so I guess I just have to trust him to get onstage when he needs to."
"He's done okay so far."

"I'm not exactly used to assuming the ten-year-old is on top of the situation."

I walked down into the lobby. Immediately, I stopped and gasped.

"My god...."

The lobby was big. It had a house in it.

The William Montgomery House had been there since 1804. The hotel had been built right there, basically incorporating the house. It rose up through three floors, across from the balconies, with a curved back wall and wonderful windows. My jaw dropped. A historic building, right inside the lobby of a modern hotel.

I sat down on the steps and took a moment to message Emily, back home.

Two historic buildings are part of this hotel, and it's so beautiful I could cry!

She responded a moment later.

Holy crap I really slept in today, maybe that's a good thing I needed it! That is literally the perfect spot for you Lou I'm excited to see the pictures!

I stood up and got out my EMF detector.

I walked around the Montgomery House for a little while, taking readings. There wasn't much, but it was early yet. I walked all the way down to the other end of the lobby, and down the stairs, and I found the Thaddeus Stevens House there.

That was under repair and locked off, but I walked around the area and took some EMF readings there, too. This house had been part of the Underground Railroad. It was a part of American history....And I was here.

I took some photos, checked the EMF detector, and switched it to temperature. There wasn't much point in trying an audio recording; interference from the dance competition and the kids running around would invalidate anything I found. I decided to go out and score some coffee. 

I walked out into the street. Lancaster. America's oldest inland city. It's always amazed me, how many places there are to be, how many opportunities there are to get to them.

I was leaving the coffee shop when I spotted Kira, from the Economic Partnership.

"Hey! Kira! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know. I have boys, so I have to come along with a friend and enjoy her daughter vicariously. How's everything going?"

"Pretty good. You see how they built the hotel to preserve two historic homes? I'm so jealous I could spit. I would love to see that sort of emphasis on preservation in Lock Haven."

"Yeah, me, too. Think they're haunted?"
"Don't think I didn't bring along some of my equipment."

Back in the lobby, I found Amanda and Carri sitting and talking. Their daughters were in Paul's class. Another woman was with them. I sat down and joined them.

"How's it going, you guys?"

"Exhausted," said Amanda. "We had to get up early and drive in this morning."

"That's right; I forgot you'd told me that. We slept in a bus last night."

Paul and Juliet, Amanda's daughter, came running over. They had handfuls of candy.

"We got some candy!" said Paul.

"Where'd you get that?"
"An old man gave it to us!"

"Jesus christ, child."

"He was handing it out at a booth," Paul said. "He works for the hotel."

"Well, you could have led with that."
Little Juliet was studying my hoodie. "Are you looking for ghosts?"

"Well, I'm trying."

"Could I do that? Could you come to the hotel tonight and show me?"
"I don't see why not," I agreed.

"Can Addie come, too?"

"If it's okay with her mom."

"Fine with me," said Carri.

"Can I get in on this?" asked the other woman.

"Why not? Will your kid be coming?"
"I'm Juliet's grandmother. Amanda's my kid."

"Oh, well, then, I guess she'll be there. How about seven-ish? We can check out the old parts of the place."

"Sounds good," said Amanda.

"Juliet," I said,"Welcome to the Ghost Gang."

"Yay!" said Juliet.

With a few hours in between Paul's performance and our return for an investigation, we went back to the bus. I walked outside---It was still chilly and rainy, but I wanted to see if the dogs were around, and maybe a ghost or two. 

Out by the road, I found the Irish setter running around with something in his mouth. He sat down on the grass and began happily chewing on it. He was followed, a moment later, by an old woman walking two ponies down the road and back to the property.

"That's something I don't see much back where I'm from," I said.

She smiled. "Ponies in the street where they shouldn't be?"
"Yeah, we don't get that much back in Lock Haven."

"The young one escapes sometimes. I'm putting them back in the barn."

I saw Paul come racing excitedly out of the bus, followed a moment later by Rylan. I said,"Oh, my son and his friend are coming. Would you mind....?"
"Of course not," she said. She handed me the reins to the little one. "Here, you can hold him."

Paul and Rylan ran up to the ponies. Paul said,"Ponies! They are so cool! I didn't think they were real!"

"Wait....Did you not know ponies exist?" My kid deals routinely with Sasquatches, water cryptids, and Squonks, but wasn't aware of ponies.

They petted the ponies. The woman said,"Would you like to give them some treats?"

"Yeah!"
She handed them some small pony treats. "Set them in your hand, and hold it our flat like this."

The kids followed her instructions, and fed the ponies several treats, to the delight of both the kids and the ponies. The woman said,"Would you like to brush them?"

Paul's eyes lit up. "Yeah!"

She handed them two brushes. "Here, you can brush them while I clean their hooves."

The kids happily brushed the ponies, who were very patient about the whole thing. I said,"You having a good time, little man?"

"This is so cool," he said.

"We're here," I announced as we walked into the hotel's waiting area. "Finally found parking."

Amanda and Carri were waiting with a couple of drinks. I was tempted to join them, but I never drink on investigations. Juliet and Addie hugged Paul, who was right behind me with Rylan.

"Are we going to hunt ghosts now?" Juliet asked.

"We are," I said. "I brought some of my equipment. Let's go down to the other end; we'll have less interference down there and the whole place pretty much to ourselves."

As we walked down, Carri asked me,"So how long have you been doing this?"

"Long time. Almost twenty years, officially."

"What was the first haunting you ever really found?"

"First one I debunked was on our honeymoon. A sighting at a covered bridge turned out to be just the grain of the wood, which looked like a face. The first one I recall really finding was my own house; a young girl killed herself there back in 1905."

"And how do you figure out who the ghost might be?" She sipped at her drink.

"I look at the deeds and other documents, and then check the newspaper archives," I explained. "You can get a good sense of who lived in the house, and died there."

"What if it was someone who didn't live there? Say, a favorite niece, who had good memories of the place?"

"That happens. Usually you can figure that out through newspaper archives, too---The obits can give you an idea of family and friends, at least get you started."

We got down to the lower lobby, where the Thaddeus Stevens House was connected. I said,"Okay, we can't go in the old house because it's under repair. But that's a good thing; repairs tend to stir up ghosts. Now, this here is an EMF detector. It detects electricity and magnetism, but when there's no reason for those, it can also detect ghosts."

I passed the all-in-one to Juliet, and the little one to Addie. Paul and Rylan were very casual about the whole thing; they're used to this. I continued,"This here is a digital recorder. We use this to ask questions, and maybe get some sort of voice on tape. I've had that happen before. Everyone get comfortable---We're going to do an EVP session; electronic voice phenomena. We'll go around and say our names, then record ourselves asking questions to see if we can get any voices. We have some interference in the background, but sometimes you'll have that."

I turned on the recorder, and we did a few minutes of talking to potential ghosts. I was rather impressed with the kids; they paid attention for several minutes, which is longer than kids usually last during those things. Finally I clicked off the recorder and said,"Okay. I'll review that later. You guys check out the place with the EMF detectors and let's see if we can find anything."

They headed out, with Paul and Rylan supervising Juliet and Addie. I watched as they walked around the lobby area, using the EMF detectors correctly. Addie's went off, beeping and spiking to red for a moment.

I said,"There you go. Look, no outlets, no cords. Looks like you may have detected a ghost."

She smiled. "The ghost likes me."

I smiled back. "I bet he does."

"Small coffee, please."

I was in the hotel's Starbucks. There's always a Starbucks; they're easier to find than fake UFO sightings. I took my black coffee and stepped outside, looking out at the rising sun over Lancaster.

I never really saw moments like this coming when we'd adopted a baby. "Hunting ghosts with my son's dance team" was never on my radar. But of all the unpredictable weirdness that my life had somehow become, it was worth it.

It had been a hectic few weeks. We'd been busy, we'd been exhausted. We'd had some adventures, Paul and I. I was a bit relieved that it was almost over.....But I was also going to miss it.

I finished my coffee and went inside. 

I found Paul in the lobby, polishing off a plate of chicken tenders and fries. He was sitting up against the wall. I sat down next to him.

"How you doing, little man?"

"Fine."

"You need anything?"

"I needed chicken tenders. But Mom got them for me."

I nodded. "You guys did really good this weekend. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad."

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, my son and I. Then he said,"You know why I hate going to school every morning? Because I have to leave you. I miss you when I'm at school."

"You have to get an education, kiddo," I told him. "But I miss you, too. When I see you get on the bus to leave....That's the worst part of my day. And the best part is when you get back."

"Okay," he said.

"We have next weekend off," I said. "Let's do something together, you and me."

"Sounds good," said Paul.

Outside the windows, the sun was coming up over the skyline.

Dance Dance Apparition: Part Two

"There's Bigfoot!" commented Michelle.

I looked out the car window. "He's enormous."

Along Interstate 80, there was a giant Bigfoot cutout. It had to be thirty feet tall. I was in the back with Paul, and Michelle and Tif were up front, on the way to the second round of dance competitions.

"We'll be staying where there's Bigfoot sightings," I said. "Near the hotel in Mercer, there have been sightings of a tan Bigfoot every ten years. It was 2005, then 2015, so we're right on time. The hotel is near an overpass, and cryptids love overpasses, so I figure I'll go and look."

"What is it with you and cryptids and overpasses?" asked Tif.

"Well, the Virginia Bunnyman---"

"Nope. Never mind."

"Then when we get to New Castle, there's a haunted mansion very near the competition. Also New Castle is the birthplace of Jack Cole, who created Plastic Man, so that's cool."

"How long until we get there?" Paul asked.

I looked at my watch. "About another hour."

"Aargh."

"But we're coming up on the highest point on Eighty east of the Mississippi. Look, you don't want to miss that."

The hotel room was about typical. Two beds, a TV, a bathroom. I texted Emily while I sat at the desk, to let her know we'd arrived safe, and told her I was going to look for the light-colored Bigfoot.

Good luck, she sent back.

If I find him, I told her, I'll call him Blondie.

I'd  brought my cryptid vest, a packable fishing vest with all my equipment in it. I pulled it on and said,"Think I'll go out for a walk while it's still light out."

"Have fun," said Michelle.

I walked down the hall and through the lobby. I checked the rack; there were a couple of brochures available, but nothing too fascinating. There was a redheaded girl working the desk.

"Weird question," I said. "Do you know of any interesting haunted places around here, or Bigfoot sightings? Anything like that?"

I like to talk to locals when I can. Sometimes they give me a prize. Sometimes I know more about the area than they do. This turned out to be that second time.

She frowned. "No, nothing like that. This is a small place; there's just nothing like that around here."

"Okay. Thanks for trying."

I walked outside. It was a nice evening. I walked down to the overpass; Interstate 80 ran right over the highway, very near the hotel. No sign of Blondie Bigfoot, though. I walked back the other way, past the hotel and to a nearby swamp to the north.

I looked around. No prints or hair samples, but I noticed that everything was dry and light brown. This could explain about the tan Bigfoot, or whatever people were reporting: A light-colored creature would camouflage in this terrain better than a dark one.

When I got back to the hotel room, Paul was sitting on the bed with his cell phone. He said,"I'm sending a message to Rosie and Butters."

"They'll like that," I said.

He dialed the house number and waited until the machine picked up. Then he said,"Hi, Rosie. Hi, Butters. How you guys doing? It's me, your best owner, AKA Paul. And I just want to send you a preppy message saying that I would rather be with you guys, but I have a dance competition, so I have to be here, and I miss you very much, and I can't wait to come home, because I would rather be in my bed at home, but I kinda have to stay here. So, bye!"

Dinner was the Mexican restaurant connected with the hotel. I looked over the menu and settled on the fiesta salad, which sounded healthy enough. Paul said,"There aren't any drinks on this menu."

"They're right here, on the front," I pointed out.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Okay if I order the kid a nonalcoholic margarita?" Tif asked.

"It's okay with me," I said.

"Any luck on your tan Bigfoot?" she asked me.

"Not really. We may still be too close to 80, though you can never tell. I did see why the local Bigfoot is light-colored; everything around here is dry and dead, which probably comes in waves as the area experiences droughts. So a light-colored Bigfoot, or whatever animal people are reporting, would camouflage better than a dark-colored one in this area, as opposed to, say, the middle of Cook Forest."

She looked at me. "Did you really just use weather studies to explain a Bigfoot?"

"I mean....You gotta have a general science background to really do it right."

Paul's strawberry margarita came. He sipped it, and smiled. "I like it!"

I was the first one up in the morning, which was usual when we traveled. Tif was asleep in a chair, and Paul was lying crossways on the bed. Paul rolls around in his sleep; the kid sleeps like he's running a marathon.

I walked down to the lobby to get a coffee. Drank a little while I sent Emily a message updating her. It always made me feel better to have someone back home to contact while I'm traveling. And Emily and I had gotten to be close friends; I was lucky to have her in my life.

I went out to the jeep to check on things; the trailer was down and ready, and the small stool we use for Tif to get in was in the back. Back inside, there was a dark-haired girl working the desk, and I asked her,"Do you know of any haunted spots around here, anything like that?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing I know of. I've never heard anything."
I sipped some coffee.

Sometimes it pays to check with the locals. Sometimes it doesn't.

"I got this, Dad. You can go," Paul said as we walked into the Scottish Rite building in New Castle. He immediately peeled off to join his friends.

"If you need me---" I called after him, and then dropped it because he was already out of range. He and his team, all dressed in their sparkly outfits, went running off wherever they go together.

Tif put her hand on my arm. "Let him go, Dad. He belongs to Team Edge now."

I saw Rachael, the owner of the dance studio, walking across the lobby, and I joined her. "Paul's here, so you know. He's been stressing out all week over his eye makeup."

She smiled. "Oh, he'll be fine."

"He's really thriving in dance class. He does soccer and basketball, too, but he seems to love dance the most."

"That's great," she said. "When the weather warms up, I'll be sure to bring the kids for a haunted tour."

"Think I might go and explore a haunted place right now, actually."

I walked outside and headed west. Two doors down from the Scottish Rite was the Foxfire Mansion, an 1890 building that as said to be haunted and built on a burial ground. I walked down to it, wearing my Rachael's Team Edge shirt and a green hoodie. Usually I'd be wearing my paranormal outfit, but I'd put on the shirt this time because of the competition. I'd done ghost-hunting in worse; last June it had been a light blue hospital gown once.

The mansion was even better than I'd expected. It was under repair, so some of the windows were boarded up, the front steps were cracked, and it was high up on a hill overlooking the city. 

I got out my EMF detector and walked around. It spiked in a couple of places. That was a good sign. I found a cold spot on the north side, and I checked that out for a while. I was a little dubious about the burial ground story; this far up on a hill wouldn't have been as likely. But the place seemed to be haunted. 

I found a spot that wasn't easily seen from the street, and got out a Plastic Man action figure. I could use that as a trigger object; this was about as close as I was going to come to a team-up with Plastic Man. I set an index card down, set the action figure on it, and traced around it with my pen. I could come back the next day and see if anything had disturbed it. Emily was going to love it.

"Dad, how do you get to the livestream for the competitions?" Paul asked, sitting on the hotel bed.

"What in our history together would make you think I'd know that?"

"I'll ask Mom. Can we go get a cup of tea in the lobby?" Paul asked. The kid loves hotels, but he's also easily bored. 

"Yeah, why not," I said. "Come on, let's walk on down and see if there's still any left."

We walked down the hall to the lobby. Paul made himself a cup of tea from the hot water there. There was a third employee working the desk this time, and I decided I had nothing to lose by rolling the dice again.

"Excuse me," I said. Paul watched calmly; he's seen all this before. "Do you know of any haunted places around here?"

"Well, this hotel is haunted," she said. "We get stuff happening here all the time."

Paul turned to me. "Can we take a walk and check?"

"We can. I usually have some equipment on me. The hotel does have kind of a Shining vibe."

We gathered up a couple of my EMF detectors and walked the halls. Paul was a little ahead of me---Probably looking for possible vending machines---And he heard my detector go off. He turned around.

"Was that?"
"A reading? Yeah. We got some EMFs in this area. Looks like the hotel might be haunted, after all."

It was pouring out the next day when I walked out of the Scottish Rite. I had an hour before Paul was on, so I walked down to the Foxfire Mansion again. On the corner, high up on the hill, I looked around.

An 1890 mansion. I checked with the EMF detector as I walked around to the back.

Plastic Man was still there, but he'd moved about an inch from where he'd been the day before. I took some more readings; this was good. The place was very likely haunted.

I walked back to the Scottish Rite, and met the other dads backstage. I'd volunteered to help move props around for the act, so I wound up shoving some stuff around the stage before the kids came on. And then the dance began, with the kids in their shiny costumes coming out....My son among them.

"Who's that girl....Watch that scene....Digging the dancing queen."

Paul lit up the stage. He was out there, dancing with his team, having a great time. And this....This was his part of the story. His much more than mine.

It was still raining afterward, when we went out to the car. Paul had changed from his costume into a new T-shirt advertising the dance competition. I said,"You did great, little man."

"Thanks," said Paul. 

Tif parked her chair and began walking toward the car door. She said,"Paul, you did great. I was really happy to see it. That was wonderful."
"Thanks," said Paul. "Where can we go eat?"

I rolled Tif's wheelchair up onto the trailer, and strapped it down. Tif was standing by the passenger side door.

"Where's the stool?" she asked.

I looked in the back, where the stool usually was. I began digging through the luggage. "I don't see it."

"Did we leave it in the parking lot of the hotel when I got in? Drive off and forget it?"
"Shit," I said with feeling.

"Did we really drive away and leave the stool sitting in a parking lot?" Michelle asked.

"I mean, I want to say no, but....It's not entirely implausible. We have to go back that way to get on 80; let's drive over and see if anyone found it. Either it'll be there or it won't. It's been six hours, but maybe we'll get lucky."

"If we can't find it," said Michelle,"We'll just have to buy a new one."

"I can get into the car if you help," said Tif.

We drove back up toward the hotel. As we pulled across the highway and into the lot, I said,"I see it!"

"You do not," said Michelle.

"No, I really---"

"Oh my god, there it is!" said Tif.

We all began laughing. The stool was sitting there, right where we'd left it six hours ago. Nobody had even noticed it there, the whole day.

I got out of the jeep, held up the stool triumphantly, and then put it in the back. I got back in the jeep, beside Paul, and we headed home. Michelle drove us up onto Interstate 80 going east.

I looked over at my son.

"Proud of you, little man," I said.

Paul smiled.

"Thanks, Dad."

Dance Dance Apparition: Part One

"Paul has his dance competitions coming up," I said. "It runs for like four straight weeks. We have weekends in Lancaster, New Castle, and the Lancaster again. Thanks for printing out the maps and schedules."

I was making notepads for a Sugar Valley store. Emily was hanging out with me in my work area, and we were talking, as we often do.

"No problem, Lou," she said. "Glad to help out."

"Well, you can help out a bit more," I said. "I'll probably be sending you a few messages while I'm there. You're under no obligation to respond, or keep an eye on your phone, or whatever. But I like to feel like I'm connected; like there's someone at home to message."

She nodded. "That's understandable."

"So you're my lifeline, Em."

Emily grinned. "Happy to be your lifeline, Lou."

"If I get a chance, I'm gonna get out exploring," I said. "Lancaster is America's oldest inland city; there's gotta be a few ghosts. I found a legend of a ghost stagecoach that rides through there, and a walking statue in a cemetery. And my friend Kevin sent me an article about a water cryptid down there, and I might look into that."
"Yeah, I printed the article out for you."

"Yeah, thanks for that, too."

"You're a good dad," she said. "I can't imagine Lou without Paul."

I smiled.

"I was there at the time," I said,"And I can't, either."

When we got to the apartment in Lancaster, Paul did what he usually does---Inspected the place thoroughly, checking for traps, cameras, and secret doors. I don't know where he gets this stuff.

"This is nice," commented Michelle.

"Nicer than our place," I agreed. 

She looked in the kitchen. "They have a sign up saying not to drink the water."

"I wonder why."

"I don't know. They have jugs in the fridge that we can use for drinking."

"Probably something like my dad's place," I said,"Where there's a lot of sulphur in the ground and you can taste it in the water."

"Your dad has well water."

"My dad has not-so-well water."

I walked around a bit. The apartment was set up in a way that you could walk all the way around in a square, with the living room, kitchen, and bedroom along the route. There was a big bookshelf in one corner, and I looked it over. It seemed to be mainly religious and Republican works, which I wasn't so interested in. One book caught my eye, and I removed it to look it over.

It was a small paperback spell book. It looked like it had been left by a previous tenant. Black cover, white title: Der Langer Verborgener Freund. Written by a man who'd lived in Lancaster. Inside was a bunch of spells for health, luck, crime prevention, and so on.

Paul rounded the corner and came in. "When do we eat? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"I'm growing."

"We can go now, and hit the buffet. I could eat something, too."

"So, you enjoying the buffet, little man?" I asked.

"Bet!" Paul said enthusiastically. "I love this! I'm going to go back for ten more plates!"

Paul loved the buffet; he went back for several slices of pizza and some hamburgers. He'd also managed about $3.50 worth of dessert items. I enjoyed it myself; I started with a salad and then moved on to the steak and seafood. Doesn't take me too long to get my money's worth.

The waitress stopped and looked at my shirt. "Are you really a paranormal investigator?" she asked.

I had the black shirt that said "Paranormal Investigator" on it. I looked down at myself for a moment. "I really am."
"No way!"

"Oh, sure." I gave her one of my cards. "Mostly up around Clinton County, but we're in town for a dance competition."

"That's so cool! There's plenty of haunted places around here. Have you heard about the cemetery?"

"I have; gonna try that if I get a chance."

"That's neat. I hope you find something." She moved off to gather plates.

I said to Michelle,"I forgot I was wearing this one."

Paul's first dance was "Respect." We had to get up way too early in the morning to get him to the hotel, which was the largest hotel I'd ever seen. After a while, we figured out where his dressing room was, and at his insistence, I left him there. A little while later, his friends from the team showed up, and he gathered with them.

I watched them run around the lobby and the ballrooms for a while, in the company of two of the moms. One of them looked into the crowd of kids, and said,"There's mine. I can spot the red hair."

"Yeah," I said,"Paul stands out in a crowd, too."

The other mom said,"Mine looks exactly like all the rest of them."

"Don't worry. As long as she stays with the other two, she'll be fine."

We watched the kids until it was time to go on. They got up onstage, and did their dance.

Paul's team. His people; the ones he was happy with. This was his thing. I had Millie, Ashlin, and Tim, and he had his dance group. They finished their dance and left the stage.

The announcer came out to give out the awards. 

"Second place....Team Edge! Respect!"

Paul walked up to receive the award.

That's my boy.

One thing about dance competitions; they wear the kid out. After the dance, we went back to the apartment and he collapsed on the couch for a while.

I went to the bedroom and changed into my LHPS uniform. I put on one of my vests---The travel model with the logo on it---And slung a pouch of equipment over my shoulder. I sent a message to Emily letting her know how things were going, and told Michelle,"I'm gonna go out for a walk."

"Have fun." Michelle was concentrating on a game on her cell phone.

I went outside. I wanted to get a water sample from Mill Creek, and check on the Sea Dog, the water cryptid from 1885. The Sea Dog had been spotted in the Susquehanna, but Mill Creek came off of the Susquehanna, so it was all the same water.

The creek was closer than I'd expected. I walked down a fairly steep slope, across the lawn, and was there. I walked around for a while, looking for a good place to go down and get some water. I found a short slope where I could walk down and collect some, and I got a sample container out of my bag, walked down, and dipped some water out.

I climbed back up to the grass, and there were geese.

Goddamn it. Geese. I'd dealt with these bastards before, showing up to bully me when I tried to get a water sample. There were several of them, all coming toward me and acting all badass.

I turned and ran. There was no way I was going to take on a bunch of geese in hand-to-hand combat. They chased me across the grass. I stopped and lifted the corners of my vest, making myself look bigger and more threatening. They weren't really intimidated. I ran back up the hill, and they decided I wasn't worth the trouble.

When I got back to the patio, Paul was waiting there. "They have a sign up that you're not supposed to go down there, I think," he said.

"Also some vicious guard geese. Let's not tell your mother. Want to help me run a litmus test on this water sample?"
"Sure."

We walked inside and dipped a piece of litmus paper in the water. "Seven," said Paul.

"You guys should test the faucet water," said Michelle. "See why we can't drink it."

"That's not a bad idea," I admitted. We tried the faucet water, and the paper immediately turned a deep green.

"That looks like a nine," commented Paul.

"It wouldn't support much life," I said. "Too acidic. No wonder we can't drink it; we'd be better off just sucking water out of the creek."

"Are you guys hungry?" Michelle asked. "I know you wanted to check out that place where they're having the cryptid festival in June, and there was that cemetery...."

"Lancaster Cemetery," I said. "We can check that out before dinner."

"Her name was Augusta Bitner," I said. "There are a couple of different stories, but they all seem to involve her dying in some sort of accident or illness while she was engaged. She was buried in Lancaster Cemetery, with a statue of her there. According to the stories, the statue comes to life and walks around at night."

"Do I have to not blink?" Michelle asked.

"I think it's not until sundown. Turn here."

Lancaster Cemetery is nice. Not the most elaborate I've ever seen, but pretty. It's not Erie Cemetery, but it's not Stech-Simcox, either. We stopped at a roundabout in the cemetery.

"I think it's that way," I said. "North."

"That's just a grass path," said Michelle. "I don't want to drive down there."

"I'll walk it, and check it out."

I could see the statue as I approached from a distance; it was easy to find and only about fifty feet away. I pulled out my EMF detector and checked---No readings at all. I stopped at the statue, looking it over. It was a girl, about six feet tall, with a pillar next to her. It had her name, the dates of birth and death, and a phrase: "Could love have kept her?"

There was a small pile of coins on the base of the statue, probably a couple of dollars. A couple of other trinkets---Keychains, a plastic coin, a small plastic heart. I dropped a penny on the pile.

I waved toward the jeep, trying to signal Paul and Michelle. Nothing. I waved both arms over my head, and nothing continued to happen. Probably both staring at their goddamn cell phones. I walked back to the van and opened the door.

"I found it," I said. Both of them were looking at their phones. "You want to see it?"

"I'll wait here," said Paul. "I'm wearing shorts, and it's cold out."

"I'll come," said Michelle.

So we walked back to the statue.

"Is it really haunted?" Michelle asked.

"Probably not," I said. "I'm not getting any readings. But this thing gets lots of attention." I pointed to the pile of coins and trinkets. "This is probably within the past week; I'm betting the cemetery association clears this up all the time. So people come to visit, and they tell stories. And it's because of that."

I pointed to the phrase: "Could love have kept her?"

"That's dramatic," I said. "It's memorable, and it suggests a story. People see that and want to talk about it. She died in 1906. That phrase, right there, is exactly what's kept the legends going for the last century or so. That's what makes people tell stories about the statue."

"Getting late, little guy," I said to Paul. "You have another big day tomorrow. Time to finish your tea and get to bed."

He nodded. He was sitting at the counter, drinking a cup of tea I'd made him and watching videos on his cell phone. "I like a little noise," he said. "It helps me sleep."

"Not sure that's how I've always experienced it," I said,"But okay." I sat down with him. "You did good today, buddy. Your whole team did."

"I like competition dance," he said. "I'm glad I signed up for it. I really like it."

I smiled.

"I'm glad," I said. "You do seem to be getting a lot out of it."
"It's fun," he said. "Doing all this stuff with Team Edge."

I nodded. I know how it goes, being part of a team. I have Millie, Tim, and Ashlin; Paul has Willow, Josie, Juliet, Tall Addie, Short Addie, Lili, Sophia, and all the others whose names I don't bother to memorize. 

He thrives in dance class; since signing him up during COVID, I'd seen him come a long way. He'd really grown into it. I had my things. This was his.

"I'm proud of you, buddy," I said. "That's my boy."

Thin Ice: Cold Wave

In decades of ghost-hunting, I'd never seen anything this terrifying.

"Do not touch anything," I said.

Paul and his little friend Emma looked up at me as we stood in the music store, among the expensive musical instruments. I was looking around at the inventory, absolutely terrified that something was going to be broke within the next five minutes.

"Your mom is picking up your violin for school," I said to Paul. "In the meantime, you guys stay calm. Do not test the drums. Do not try the guitars. Just don't. Touch. Anything."

"Okay," said Paul.

"Oooh, are those pianos?" said Emma.

I walked outside into the parking lot. I didn't want to see whatever came next. It was snowing. I dug into my pack, pulled out my binoculars, and looked south, toward the river.

"I have a new UFO sighting," I told Emily. "Well, new for me. It happened in 1992."

I was packaging some papers, and she was trying to fix a printer jam. She asked me,"Where's this one?"

"Williamsport. So I thought I'd take a look while we were getting Paul's violin with the kids. I really didn't want to be in there with them. Paul's friend Emma somehow manages to be both a little sweetheart and a holy terror simultaneously. She's a nice kid, but she's wild. Every time she comes over to the house, we get things broken, expensive perfumes sprayed on the dogs, my shaving cream used to make slime, and whatever else she can think of. In retrospect, bringing her along to the music store was not a well-thought-out move."

"Oh good god," said Emily. "So how'd you find out about this UFO?"

"My friend Norman shared it on his blog," I said. "In February of 1992, a whole lot of witnesses all along the Susquehanna saw boomerang-shaped UFOs with flashing lights in the sky. There were newspaper articles about it; I'm going to check the archives later. My personal file designation for this is WP-92, but at the time it was known as the Williamsport Wave."

"Any ideas?"

"It being 1992, I can safely rule out drones, but otherwise, not yet. Gonna run down the checklist, look at airports, military testing, and stuff like that."

"That makes sense, to have a sort of standard operating procedure."

"If you have any thoughts, let me know. I can use the input," I said. I picked up the small drill I'd brought in. "I'll be down in the basement doing some repairs."

Emily smiled. "Got it."

I walked downstairs. The basement of the print shop was becoming quite a project for me. I'd started by creating a little secret hideout, and then expanded, and the whole thing was becoming a big work thing on my part. I had a whole lot of new shelf space created, I was weekly cleaning out all of the scrap cardboard, I had a workspace, and I even had vague plans to make an exercise area on the south end. 

I walked into my hideout, and got a dry-erase marker. I wiped off the laminated sign that read "42 DAYS WITHOUT AN ALIEN INVASION" and changed it back to zero. My way of keeping track of UFO investigations.

Using the drill, I moved a portable light from one space to a better one, and then repaired a small table and moved it into my work area. I moved some useless junk down to the far end out of the way, and cleared off a shelf and moved it into place. Then I went back upstairs to get some of the stock paper and bring it down, thus clearing some space above for other purposes.

Everyone was in the front office. Emily grinned at me. "We can hear you hammering down there."

"Got some stuff fixed," I said. "Did you know there are three mattresses down there?"

The boss laughed. "I knew about one of them. Did you see the oven?"

"There's an oven?"

We had a vegetable platter on the table; I helped myself to a couple of them. "My suggestion is that we move all the paper stuff away from the west wall. That seems to be where the moisture is coming in. I'll work on that once this seriously gets underway."

Kelli laughed. "You've been at this two weeks, shoving stuff around all day, and you're not seriously underway yet?"

"Well, been making myself a secret headquarters."

"Is there room to lay down one of those mattresses?" Emily asked. "I've been looking for an apartment."

I grinned. "Wouldn't it be cool to stay overnight and ghost hunt?"

"That'd be creepy."

"Nah, you get used it."

"I'll never be late for work," she said. "I can call upstairs and say,'Hey, I'm working from home today.'"

It was snowing and icy at the bus stop on the corner. Of course, that didn't stop Paul and has friends from wearing light jackets and sandals. Meanwhile, I was wrapped up in my puffy vest with my fleece hood. I used to worry that my kid was just weird about the cold weather, but it turns out they're apparently all like that.

"Don't forget, Dad," said Paul,"The Bingo fundraiser for my dance class is Sunday."

"Down at the Piper Museum, right? I've signed up to volunteer for it. I also donated five tour tickets that I had Emily design for me. I won't forget."

The kids were playing around. One of the boys, a nice enough kid, always chats with me about stuff he's interested in. I decided to put the kid to use.

"Hey, Wyatt, you're into planes, right? Do you know any of them that are sort of boomerang-shaped, with a couple of lights on each wing?"

"B-52 Spirit," the kid said immediately. "It's a stealth bomber."

I nodded. "That helps."

The bus came, and the kids all climbed on. "Bye, Dad! Love you!" Paul called as he ran for the bus.

I walked home in the snow. Rosie and Butters were waiting for me when I got there. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Worked on an article for a while, and then re-read some reports of the Williamsport Wave.

Might have been some sort of plane, but it wasn't a stealth anything; witnesses reported hearing a loud noise as it flew. I found an account from one guy who claimed he'd figured it out, and it was an old dirigible from a New Jersey company, but when I looked up the company, they'd gone out of business by that time.

I checked social media, and saw that one of my former editors had posted a photo. She'd seen what appeared to be a deer in her yard, but it was weird---Short and chubby and not entirely deer-like. I looked at it and smiled.

"It's called a Not-Deer," I told Emily. "That's when people think they've seen a deer, but then they realized there's something wrong with it. They kind of look like deer, but you can see they don't quite line up. This one is pretty easily explainable; people are probably just seeing deer with some sort of disease or deformity. In this case, a former editor of mine posted a photo of what looks like a deer, but it's especially chubby and has forward-facing eyes."

She grinned. "I like how you can just come up with all these different cryptids."
"Oh, there are plenty of them. You familiar with the Squonk?" 

"Is that some kind of Bigfoot?"

"No, the Squonk is a little pig-like creature indigenous to Pennsylvania. They're considered very ugly, and they know it, so they sit in the forest and cry all day."

"Awww...."

"I know. Everyone loves the Squonk. Funny thing is, if the Squonks knew how much people love them, they'd stop crying."

Emily grinned. "Is it still cold out?"
"Like twenty-nine degrees. Solid sheets of ice outside. Plus a wind warning."

"Did you have any trouble biking in today?"
"Oh, you have no idea."

"When's the first day of spring?"

"I think it's March twentieth, and personally I cannot wait."

"So, any ideas for investigating?"

"I figure I'll call DCNR and ask about the Not-Deer. They can tell me if there are any genetic anomalies or anything that could explain it. As for the Williamsport Wave....Well, down at the Piper Museum they have files on a lot of government testing and flights. I need to get a look during Paul's Bingo game Sunday."

"You mean....."
I nodded. "That's right. I gotta sneak into the Piper Museum."

"B-4."

I stood by the door, directing people into the Bingo game. We were on the third floor of the Piper Museum, where I'd once been the curator. Michelle had met a couple of her work friends and gone to play, and Paul had disappeared with some of his little friends from dance class. After telling me that I was embarrassing and instructing me not to look directly at him. And then asking for money.

The owner of the dance studio came up. "How's it going?" she asked.

"Smooth enough," I said. "Not too much overcrowding yet."

She nodded. "Good. Now, those tour tickets you donated....Is that one ticket per person, or....?"

"Nah, unlimited number of people. I've done tours with as many as ninety people; I can handle whoever they can come up with."

"Oh, good. I'll make an announcement. I'm not even sure I know ninety people."

Looking through the door, I saw my friend Ian walk out into the hall, and I stepped out and chased him down. Ian works with the DCNR, and is the guy who books me for speeches and stuff in the state parks. 

"Ian! Hey! Got a question for you."

"Hi, Lou! What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking into deer lately. Is there anything, any condition or something, that might make a deer look like it has front-facing eyes?"

"You know deer don't, right?...."

"Yeah, I know, they're not predators. But is there anything that might give that impression?"
"Discoloration, perhaps. Or a genetic mutation. Or, most likely, some sort of sore that people mistook for eyes."

"That could be. Thanks, Ian. E-mail me about programs this summer, okay?"

"You got it."

I walked into the room across the hall. Michelle wouldn't notice; she was playing Bingo. She was probably used to this by now anyway. I'd been slipping off on some little side quest on family trips and events for the last couple of decades; she'd probably be alarmed if I didn't disappear for a while. 

Down in the lobby, I took a moment to plan out my route. I'd been the curator of this museum for three years; I knew every hallway and stairwell. I knew which doors led where, and which were most likely to be unlocked.

There was a door way back in the back that led down to the hangar. I had to climb over a small barricade, but I walked down the stairs and onto the floor. I walked past the planes; I'd always loved these airplanes. I took a moment to stop at my favorite, the Piper Aztec, and then I walked into the workshop area and behind some old Piper signs.

The staircase was where I remembered it, on the exterior wall behind the workshop. It led upstairs, into the archives.

"I'm in." 

I've always wanted to say that.

There was a lot of stuff in here, if you knew where to look. And I knew---This had once been my office.

I checked the air route map first. It showed me that the area where the Williamsport Wave had been sighted was, in fact, a legal air route---Planes were routed along that part of the Susquehanna. 

That's a start.

I checked a couple of other files, and found what I needed. There had been some aircraft testing done in the nineties at Fort Indiantown Gap. It would have likely taken them along the river.

"Bingo."

I slipped out, retraced my route, and went back upstairs. The Bingo game was still going on. I made the rounds, checked to see if I was needed.

Paul appeared out of nowhere. 

"Dad? We had a spill in the play room."

"Okay," I said. "Let's go see."

We walked into the play room, which was actually just an empty room where they'd sent the kids. Paul and his little dance friends were having a good time in there, occasionally breaking out into songs. One of them asked me,"Did you bring the tickets for the haunted tours?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"He does that all the time," Paul said airily.

Her eyes widened. "Do you see ghosts?"

"Well, we investigate them."

One of the other girls said,"Can you tell us some ghost stories?"
I smiled.

"If you'd like," I said. "We've been to a lot of haunted places."

On Monday, the temperature rose to forty-six degrees by the time I left for work. It's amazing how warm that can feel after almost two months of weather in the teens. I biked in to work with my lighter jacket on for the first time in a while.

Downstairs, in my hideout, I looked at my sign. "0 DAYS WITHOUT AN ALIEN INVASION." I scrubbed out the zero, and added a one.

Emily found me outside the back door of the Hecht Building, along Mill Street, facing the YEarick Building. The bank sign across the street said it had gone up to fifty-two degrees.

"Thought you might have gone down to your secret hideout in the basement," she said.

"I figured I'd come and enjoy the nice weather for a bit," I said. "Looks like spring might be on the way."

"About time. How was your weekend?"

"Bumped into a friend who answered the Not-Deer question. And I did get into the files over at Piper---Turns out there was military testing from Fort Indiantown Gap around that time, so that may have accounted for the Williamsport Wave. All of the secret passages and concealed stairways are where I remember them being."

Emily laughed. "And you just snuck in."

"It's amazing what you can accomplish when you're not above a little trespassing. How was your weekend?"

"It was nice. I spent time with my sister, since she was home from college."

"Ah, good. Glad you had a good time." I looked out at the street. "Nice day."

"Nice day," she agreed, and we turned our faces to the sun.

I smiled.

"The cold doesn't last forever," I said. "Spring is coming."

Thin Ice: Rats

Snow was falling outside as Tif and I sat in McDonald's over breakfast. With temperatures up as far as thirty-three degrees, we'd decided to get together before work.

"What time is it?" Tif asked me.

I glanced at my watch. "Nine-fifteen."

"Plenty of time. I don't have to be in until ten today."

I drank some coffee and leaned back in my chair. "I need to find a yeti."

"The cup brand, or....?"

"No, god, Paul has cups all over the house. We have way too many of those. I need to go looking for a creature; I'm easily bored."

"It's hard to get out in this cold."

"Yeah, I've been having that problem. Actually I've been trying to keep busy; I've looked into two cryptids and a ghost since the cold weather started. But, you know, it's hard when it's too cold to go anyplace or stay outside for very long."

"I'm sure something will come along," said Tif. "Something always does, for you."

"The boss said you're going out on deliveries with him," Kelli told me when I walked in. "He has to pick up some shelves in Mill Hall for the basement."

"Sounds good," I said. "We're trying to clean up a bit down there."

"Take some of your equipment," she told me. "You're stopping at the place that used to be haunted, the old K-Mart building."

"Oh, right, the Van Campen Massacre happened there. April of 1769, if I remember right." I picked up the EMF detector from Emily's desk, and she grinned at me. I'd gotten one a few months ago for office use. "I'll just borrow this one. I'll bring it back."

It was something to do. I went back and cut a couple of gift certificates for Emily, and a few brochures. Then I accompanied the boss out to make a few deliveries. We dropped off a couple of boxes, and then pulled into the hardware store in Mill Hall. I got out the detector and turned it on, and it spiked to red almost immediately.

The boss smiled. He seems to be routinely amused by my investigations. "Checking the place out?" he asked.

"Yeah, this place has been haunted for over thirty years now. They used to see a lot of ghosts back when this was a K-Mart. There was a big battle here back when this was all Northumberland County."

"If I get a couple of shelving units for the basement, can you put them together?"

"Oh, sure. Easy enough."

Back at work, I walked into the front office and dropped the EMF detector back on Emily's desk. She grinned up at me. "You find anything?"

"Thing lit right up. Immediately gave me high readings. It wasn't anything like a full investigation, but it's encouraging."

"There was a battle out there?"
I nodded. "The Van Campen Massacre. In April of 1769, a group of militia officers woke up to find themselves surrounded by over a hundred Susquehannocks. I think seven of them survived the attack. They buried all the bodies in a hole, and I'm pretty sure they're still under Harbor Freight someplace. Northern corner, I think."

Emily shivered. "You know the damnedest things."

"You get used to it. I've written about this a bunch of times."

"Got any other investigations coming up?"

"Well, Ida's birthday is Saturday."

"The ghost in your house?"

"Yep. She was born February first, 1888. Paul and I may stay up late and do a little investigating. We do that sometimes on the anniversaries."

"You should watch Charlie's Angels. Doesn't Ida like that movie?"

"She does! Almost every time I watch it, we get some activity."

I hauled the shelves down into the basement and began putting them together. I walked around and adjusted the lights a little bit---The basement was full of fixtures and outlets that didn't work, but if I ran a couple of extension cords and maximized the ones that did, I could get a decent amount of illumination. Toward the front of the basement, I saw a vent about nine feet up that looked like it went through the wall and into the furniture store next door. I climbed up with my flashlight and took a look.

I went back upstairs to Emily's desk.

"I think I found a secret tunnel into the store next door," I said.

She looked up. "Really? So we could crawl over there and steal their snacks?"
"In theory,  yes. I'd have to use a ladder to get into it, and I think I'd need to work my way over the to vent, and then crawl through that like Bruce Willis in Die Hard. So what I'm saying is, it might be possible. Getting the gang together for one last heist."

She shook her head. "How do you find this stuff? I've worked here over a year and I've never noticed that."

"I have absolutely no life."

I went back downstairs. I shoved some stuff around, and cleared out some more space. By the time I was done, I had a row of shelves and a table I could use as a workspace. I looked things over with some satisfaction.

Out of curiosity, I pulled out the ladder---We had a wobbly wooden ladder I'd discovered pretty early on. I set it up near the vent, climbed up, and peered inside.

I went back upstairs. We can see the sign at the bank across the street from our window, and the temperature had risen a bit. But we were getting freezing rain outside, which was fun.

"I can see light coming through the vent," I said. "It would be a tight squeeze, but it means that it definitely comes out the other side."

"So you're saying you could do it?" Emily asked.

"In theory, I could do it. I also saw a hole in the wall that looked like something might have tried to chew its way out, but that could be just my imagination."

The boss looked up from his desk. "Well....."

"Oh, is there something I'm not aware of? This is gonna be cool."

"Quite a while ago, we saw a really large rat chew its way through the brick wall out front. You know that hole in the brick?"
"We have a rat cryptid, and nobody told me?!?"

"It was really, really big."

"I mean, you get giant rat cryptids, but mostly in New York. I love this; our building has its own cryptid."

"It's Ida's birthday," I said. "You ready to stay up late and do a little investigating?"

"Bet," said Paul.

It was twenty degrees out, but we weren't going anyplace. I was wearing my black "Paranormal Investigator" shirt and a fleece vest. I went upstairs to my office and got out a couple of pieces of my equipment---The laser thermometer, the EMF detector, and a camera just in case. I brought them all downstairs and set them on the couch.

"No digital recorder?" asked Paul.

"I figured we'd watch some TV and that'd be interference."

We sat down on the couch. I turned on my EMF detector, and it flickered to yellow and then went dead. I tried it again with the same result.

"I think I'm losing the battery," I said.
"What kind is it?"
"Think it's a nine-volt. I don't believe we have any of those stocked up."

"We probably should," said Paul. "Want to use mine instead?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

I went back upstairs and fished Paul's EMF detector out of his vest. I grabbed my all-in-one, too, and brought it downstairs. If you stay in paranormal investigation long enough, you wind up with multiple copies of everything.

Paul turned on his detector and set it on the arm of the couch. I sat down with him and turned on mine, and looked it over. He aimed the laser thermometer around the room.

"It's about sixty-four," he said,"But I'm getting a hundred over there."

"A hundred? There's no way anything in this room should be reading a hundred. Not with yeti weather outside."

"Now it's gone."

"That could be something."

I looked at my detector, which was flickering. "I think the battery is going out on this one, too."

"All of your batteries are going dead."

"Well, they do get a lot of use."

He glanced over at his detector. "It's getting a reading, Dad."

The light was going up to yellow and back again, repeatedly. I nodded. "That's something. Looks like Ida's here tonight to spend her birthday with us."

I walked into the Hecht Building at the usual time and stopped by Emily's desk. "So I spent the weekend looking at maps and studying the building," I said.

Emily grinned. "I don't talk to you for two days...."

"So it looks like the building, or parts of it, is a lot older than we thought," I said. "I found an old photo showing that it used to be three stories. Edward Hecht ran a clothing store in here from 1887 on, and then around the Fifties, they seem to have torn off the top two. But the layout of the whole thing is exactly the same on the 1925 Sanborn Map. Now, it looks like most of this block was all interconnected at that time, so it's not too hard to imagine that there was a family of giant rats running back and forth on the block."

"Eww."

"I checked with Cryptipedia, by the way. Giant rats do actually classify as cryptids, but they're what you call OTAs---Off-Territory Animals. Normally this is an actual real animal that people aren't used to seeing in a specific area. The Mothman has been thought to be one of these."

"You know," Emily said,"I never told you this before, but years ago, someone recommended you to me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. A few years ago, I was feeling really discouraged, and thinking that this wasn't really a good place to live. And someone told me that there was the guy named Lou, kind of famous, and he worked at the library. They said I should talk to you. And now, we're friends."

It wouldn't have been like Emily to reach out to me out of nowhere, but I was glad we'd met and become friends now. I smiled. "I didn't know that. That's really cool. Sometimes, I guess, things work out the way they should."

"So, what are you going to do now?"

"Think I'll do something I don't get the chance to do all that often. Go hunting a cryptid in my work building."

I walked to the back, hung up my backpack and my jacket by the cutter, and then went down into the basement. It was shaping up pretty nicely; I'd made myself a little office and work area down there, and I wasn't done yet. I found the vent that led to the next building, and paced off enough of a measurement that I could tell where it would come out, roughly, on the other side. 

Then I went back upstairs and slipped out the back door onto Mill Street.

Our back door is directly beside the back door of the furniture store next door. It's a few feet away; I wasn't outside five seconds. I ducked in the back door and found an employee vacuuming.

"Hi," I said. "I work next door."

"Oh, we know."

"I was wondering if I could look around the basement a bit."
"Sure. Go ahead."

I walked down the stairs into the basement, and looked around. All the way in the back, there were a few doors marked "Employees Only." Well. They hadn't specifically told me not to go in there. I opened what I figured was the right one and walked in.

It was a small, concrete room with a very damaged drop ceiling. No wonder they didn't want the general public wandering in here. I shined a light up toward the ceiling and saw it almost immediately---There was a spot where the vent came out of the wall and led back into our basement.

Theoretically, I could crawl from one side of the building to the other, especially if I didn't mind squeezing through the vent. It made sense that rats could live comfortably down here, too, particularly if they had access to food storage.

I got out before anyone thought to come and see what the hell I was doing down there. I walked back outside and back into the print shop.

I had an envelope printing job waiting for me. I looked across the building at Emily's desk, and gave her a thumbs-up. Across the room, she grinned and did it back to me.

Thin Ice: Cold Comfort

Two degrees.

Overnight, the temperature had dropped to two degrees outside. Across town, car batteries were going dead. Ice was forming on the Constitution Bridge. The Susquehanna River was frozen solid.

"Put on a damn coat!" I shouted at Paul as he got ready for school.

"Oh. Yeah." He set down his backpack and put his white coat on. "Will you be home when I get home today?"

"I'll be at work, but your mother will be home. But before I get to work, I'm going to try to write an article."

"Oh yeah? About what?"

"Don't know yet I'll dig through my files and find something." I handed him his pack. "Shoes. You need shoes. Have a good day, kiddo. Love you."

"Love you, too," said Paul, pulling on his shoes as he walked out the door.

I poured a cup of coffee---Tim had given me a Swartz Paranormal coffee mug---And sat down at my laptop. I played around a while---Much freelance writing work can easily be mistaken for playing around---And then took my mug and walked upstairs to my office. I pulled out a random file on ghosts, and flipped through. 

And I rediscovered the frozen ghost of the Pine-Loganton Road.

When I got to work, there was a sign job waiting for me. This required me to spray adhesive on a piece of foamboard and stick a poster to it. Normally I'd just go out in the alley and do it, but it was too cold for any kind of spray adhesive. So I took it down to the basement.

The basement of the Hecht Building is a long, dark, stretchy thing that runs the length of the building. I'd been building a secret headquarters in one of the alcoves. I'd always done that sort of thing as a kid, and had never really outgrown the tendency. I changed a couple of light bulbs to give myself more illumination, then laid the foamboard down on a shelf and sprayed it.

When I brought it back upstairs, Emily was bringing back a printed job of fourteen hundred flyers to be cut and folded.

"Morning, Emily," I said.

Emily smiled. "Good morning. Got a huge stack of flyers for the Catholic school for you."

"You know that place is built on an old burial ground? I mention it on a lot of tours."

"How do you even remember all this stuff? I'd forget it immediately."

"I don't make much of an effort; I don't study it or anything. If it's something interesting to me, it just sinks in and sticks. But I can't balance my own checkbook, so don't get too impressed."

"Find out anything new lately?"

"I stumbled on one I've checked out before. There's a ghost down along the Pine-Loganton Road, which is Clinton County's most haunted road. He was a guy named Harry who froze to death in December of 1894 trying to walk down to visit his girlfriend. His body was found frozen under a tree. The story is that if you listen in a cold winter, you can still hear him calling for help."

Emily shivered. "That's another creepy one."

"I may get out there and check. This would be the perfect winter for it. I might take my rifle microphone and check if I can hear anything."
"How do you plan to get out there?"

"I don't know, maybe make a friend who can drive. I'll figure that out later. It's too cold to go out, so I think I need to do a little digging in the archives first."

The boss came through. "I'll be out for a while," he said. "I need to make a delivery down to Loganton."

"Drive careful," I said. "And keep your eyes open. There's supposed to be a ghost down there who froze to death in 1894."

He smiled, amused. Amusement seems to be his default position to my paranormal investigations. "I'll look for that."

He walked out the back door, and Emily said,"I can't believe I get to hear you say things like that."

Every now and again, Chris and I tried to get together for coffee, almost as if we were normal people. We sat at the same table in the local coffee shop and hung out, sometimes working on projects, sometimes just talking.

"I heard the Piper Museum is hiring for a general manager," I said. 

Chris looked at me, interested. "You going to apply?"

"Not gonna lie, I was thinking about it," I said. "I mean, nobody can say I'm not qualified. I was the curator over there for three years. I'm considering it. But I'm not sure how much I want to go back to working for a board of directors again."

"It would require working weekends," said Chris. "I know you've been enjoying spending time with your family on evenings and weekends."

"Yeah, that's another thing," I admitted. "I love the Piper Museum, I always have. But I do like working at the print shop, too. Everyone treats me good, and the place is haunted as hell."

Chris grinned. "Investigating it while it's too cold to go out?"

"Actually I'm currently working on the guy who froze to death on the Pine-Loganton Road while attempting to get to his girlfriend."

"This sounds like a Shoemaker."

"It is, in fact, a Shoemaker. It's from one of his articles in the 1950s."

"Shoemaker never lets you down."

It was morning, and Paul was off to school. I sat down at the table with my laptop. Coffee and a ghost; that classic way to start the day.

I began by checking the newspaper archives from December of 1894. I got on the website and checked every issue, one at a time. I learned that it had been a very bad winter that year, and people did in fact freeze to death while going out. I found a couple of cases of that actually happening, which was encouraging.

Then I took my coffee up to my office and pulled the cemetery records, Rosie and Butters trailing after me in case I had some available food up there. I began with Sugar Valley, because Harry had been from there and died on that end of the Pine-Loganton Road. I went through the records, one name at a time, and found it almost immediately.

There was a man named Harry who'd died "near Loganton" and been buried in very early 1895. He'd been about nineteen years old at the time. Bingo. That was my guy.

Okay, so I knew who he was now, and that it had actually happened. That was a good start. I'd backed it up historically; now I had to check into the paranormal side of things. That was a little harder.

"Right up here," I said as Michelle pulled the jeep up alongside the Pine-Loganton Road. 

"Should I pull in, or just anyplace?"

"We're in the right vicinity. Just anywhere along the road should be fine."

We'd gone around the long way, as opposed to starting in McElhattan and traveling the entire road. With the temperatures consistently below freezing, I hadn't wanted to chance any patches of ice, which were pretty likely. Michelle stopped the vehicle.

"You coming with me, or waiting here?" I asked Paul.

"It's twelve degrees," he said. "I'll wait here."

"Be right back."

I got out and walked along the road. It was cold as hell, and the wind was blowing. I got out my rifle microphone and slipped the headphones on, which actually helped warm my ears. I turned it on and raised it, moving at carefully around in an arc.

Howling. Oh my god, the entire forest was howling. I could hear it clearly through the headphones. The wind was drowning out everything else around for a mile. Probably happened every time winter hit.

Which would explain, to an extent, how the legend got started. Someone freezing to death along this road, which already had a reputation for being haunted, and the wind making noises that could be mistaken for human....Yeah, it made sense.

I walked back to the jeep and climbed in. Michelle said,"Anywhere else you need to go?"

"While we're in the neighborhood, one more stop."

I stood over the gravestone, looking down at the name "Harry." Paul roamed the cemetery somewhere behind me.

"Here he is, kiddo. The ghost who froze to death on the Pine-Loganton Road."

"Cool," said Paul. He was leaning over a couple of stones a few rows over. "This one just says 'Mother.'"

"Her name is on the big monument beside it. They did that sometimes, just labeled them like that."

Paul walked a little bit down the row. "These guys weren't very old. This one was only twelve."

"That happened, too. You see how these two died within a year? You see that sometimes, and it tells you something. In the future, people are going to be seeing a lot of graves from 2020 and 2021. What killed a lot of people in those years?"

Paul thought it over. "COVID?"
"Very good. Yes, COVID. When you see a lot of similar dates, it probably means there was an epidemic of some sort. Most cemeteries have them. Later on, if you like, we can check to see how these two died, and if there was some epidemic that year. I'll show you how to do that."

Paul nodded. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Yeah, I found the ghost grave," I said. "Let's get back where it's warm."

Monday morning, and sixteen degrees. When I got to work, as always, Emily was there.

"How was your weekend?" I asked.

"It was good. We took my sister back to college."

"Bloomsburg, right? Only town in Pennsylvania."
"That's right. How was your weekend?"

"It was good. Checked into that ghost who froze to death on the Pine-Loganton Road. Turns out, that actually happened to a guy. I found a guy with the right name who died about that time, and then when I checked the area, the wind was making a lot of noise through the trees."

"That would be hard to hear with the headphones."

"It kinda was. But I figure the noise, plus the death in a place already known for being haunted....That added up to the legend. I didn't get a whole lot of readings, but that's an investigation for another day. A warmer day."

'That makes a lot of sense." Emily grinned. "Don't know what I'd do without you here to tell me about this stuff."

I smiled.

"You won't have to find out," I said. "I'll be here."