I was sitting on the bed getting dressed, so obviously, it was the appropriate time for questions like that. "Well, they're kind of like people. Except scary. And they kind of make a sound like Uuuurrrrr."
"I don't think they make a noise."
I pulled my Piper Cub shirt on. "Where did you learn about zombies?" I was pretty sure nobody had shown my four-year-old The Walking Dead.
"On a Shimmer and Shine cartoon. They eat people, but only people who fell down."
"Yeah, that's about right." I pulled on my sneakers. "You remember you were born in New Orleans? It's a city far away. There are zombies there."
"Are they friendly zombies?"
"Yeah. They're all drinking margaritas."
"In the cartoon, zombies do like this." Paul held his hands together and made a kind of dancing, wiggling motion.
I laughed. "Do they do that? Okay. I kind of like that."
"Why do zombies have red drips on their mouth?"
"Oh....That's their lipstick." I tied my yellow Piper bandanna around my ankle. "Zombies don't know how to put on lipstick right, so they get drips."
Paul rolled his eyes. "They don't know they are supposed to rub their lips together. Silly zombies."
"You seem a little down," said the woman. "When was the last time you had an astrological chart done?"
I glanced at her. "What have I ever written that would make you think I believe in astrology?"
"I didn't ask if you believed in it, I asked when you last had it done."
"Oh. That'd be never, then."
She leaned over the desk at the library and began sketching on a piece of paper, while nearby, my co-worker Barb looked on with some amusement. "Well, you were born in July, right? That would make you a Leo. What time were you born?"
"I don't know. I actually have different stories on my birth from each of my relatives. I've never been sure what's true, so years ago I just chose the one I like best, and went with that."
She frowned at me. "Well, which of your relatives do you trust the most?"
"You don't know my relatives."
"This is important."
"It may have been about three in the afternoon. And I'm pretty sure I was born in an elevator in Phoenixville."
She scribbled some more on the paper. "There, see, your sun and moon are in opposition. That could explain some of the conflict you're feeling. You should have a chart done about weekly."
"Ah. Well, thank you."
"You're welcome," she said, and walked out.
Barb glanced at me. "How do you....."
"Keep a straight face? It's not always easy."
The door opened, and someone in a uniform walked in. It was my friend Ian, a ranger with Kettle Creek State Park.
"Hi, Lou," he said. "I was just dropping by to see if you're available to do a talk for us up at Kettle Creek again this summer. The audiences like you."
"Sure," I said. "Got a topic in mind?"
"I was thinking about the Native Americans," he said. "There's a lot of that sort of history. Can you do that?"
"Oh, sure. Done that kind of thing before. When's good?"
"July seventh?"
"Works for me." I scribbled it down. "Ian, last year, when my son fell asleep in the back of the car on the way home, my wife and I were discussing getting a campsite and staying over next time around. Would that be possible? Could you guys arrange for a campsite overnight?"
"Oh, sure," said Ian. "Give a call in and book it with our scheduling person. That can be done."
"Great! Thanks."
Ian left, and Barb said,"That sounds like fun."
"More than you even know," I said. "There are legends of a water monster in the Kettle Creek area, the Susquehanna Seal. It was said to be very active overnight, and often seen by the Indians. If I investigate it, it fits right in."
Zach, walking past the desk, stopped to listen.
"Have you ever in your life," Barb asked,"Done something like this without some sort of paranormal side mission?"
"It's been a while," I admitted. "You know, if I get some photos while I'm up there, I can even get paid for this by writing it up for the PA Wilds."
"You're not bringing any monsters in here," commented Zach.
"Don't destroy my dreams, Zach," I said.
Paranormal phenomena to be investigated. Ancient mysteries to be solved. And just like that, another workday begins.
"I'm four years old!" my son proudly declared at the table. "It's my birthday today!"
"It is, little man," I said, and gave him a hug. "We love you."
"Can I open presents?"
"You'll have to wait until Aunt Biz gets here, and we have the cake," I said. "Be patient."
"I don't like to be patient."
"I am painfully aware. But you'll have to learn."
Paul reached for a box on the table. "Can I just open this one?"
"That one's from Aunt Paula," I said. "My old teacher. Yeah, you can open that."
I watched with my wife and daughter as Paul ripped open the box. He pulled out a pretty good package of stuff, a backpack loaded with items.
"New binoculars!" Paul held them up to his eyes and looked at his big sister through the wrong ends.
"That's backwards, little guy."
"I don't like close up. I like far away."
"Fair enough."
"What else is there?" Tif asked, looking at the pack. Paul pulled out more stuff: A mountain climbing set, comlinks, a wrist compass, a cap with a light on the brim. Not toy stuff; the real thing.
"Aunt Paula sends quality stuff," I commented. "You got better equipment than I do now. Here, you see these?"
I handed him one of the comlinks. It took me a minute to get the channels coordinated, but then I said,"See? You press this button to talk. Look." I pressed the button and said,"Hi, Paul."
He lit up as my voice came out of his comlink. He said,"I want to!" Pressing the button after a couple of tries, he said,"Hello, hello, hello."
"Now you can come have adventures with me. Find monsters and stuff."
"I want to find monsters," he said. "Can I stay at Kettle Creek by my own?"
"Not a good idea."
"Daddy, trust me," said my four-year-old. "I'm an expert."
We got to Kettle Creek State Park around three PM, five hours before my speech was scheduled. Paul had been ready to jet out the door since eight AM. It's about an hour from Lock Haven to Kettle Creek, and every five minutes, Paul was asking if we'd arrived yet.
We found our campsite and parked the car. I unloaded everything and put the tent up. Michelle and I had purchased the tent for about $3.50 seventeen years ago, before we were married. The package had said it was a Fast 'N' Simple E-Z Tent, and I'd been shocked to find out that it was actually fast, simple, and easy. So easy I could get the thing up in minutes, even with the help of a four-year-old. Best tent I've ever owned.
We were up at the overlook, exploring the rest of the park, when Ian got there, pulling over in his state-issued DCNR vehicle.
"Hi, Lou," said Ian.
I grinned. "Hey, Ian. Thanks for the site---We're having a great time. Little guy's thrilled."
"Good, good. You bring some artifacts to share tonight?"
"I did. Studied up on the Native Americans, got some good stories."
He nodded. "I saw a heron down past the dam, looking for fish. You might get a look at him."
"That'd be cool." I turned to Paul. "You hear that, little guy? There's a tall bird, and we might get to see it."
"Yeah! I want to see the tall bird!"
"We'll keep our eyes open, Ian," I said. "See you at the Nature Center in a couple of hours."
"Good speech, Daddy," said Paul as the Nature Center let out. I'd talked about the Susquehannocks, some of their battles and legends, and passed around a couple of Native American tools from a dig. It had been a bigger crowd than last year.
"Thanks, little guy."
"It was a good speech," said Michelle. "One of your better ones."
"I'm pleased. It went well."
Two guys came up, and shook my hand. One said,"I love that shirt! Where did you get it?"
It was the blue one with Bigfoot being abducted by aliens. "Oh. Amazon."
"Mind if I take a picture of it?"
"No, go ahead."
He snapped a photo with his cell phone. "Great talk, man. Loved it. You into Bigfoot?"
"Yeah, I do some looking sometimes."
He grinned. "Me too. Got some good photos out in Grove City last year."
"Daddy! Come on!" said Paul.
I smiled. "Gotta run. Bedtime."
We fed Paul some marshmallows, got him to agree to lay down in the sleeping bag about nine-thirty, and I clicked off the lantern. I gave the little guy a hug.
"See you in the morning, buddy."
"We did not see the tall bird."
"We'll go look for him tomorrow. Promise."
"This is a fun camping trip. I love you, Daddy."
"Love you, too, little man."
Taking the lantern, I crawled out of the tent and zipped it up. I walked over to the picnic table and sat down with a copy of Annihilation I'd grabbed from the library. On camping trips, it was important to bring the right book to read after dark. Stephen King is a bad choice. I'd learned this the hard way.
I lit a cigar and read for a while, until I was pretty sure Michelle and Paul were asleep. Then I dug into my pack, and got out some of my cryptozoology equipment.
I had a knife that was designed for it, which I strapped on my belt. I got a small sample jar and a monocular. My camera was in my pocket. I pulled on a dark green hoodie---It was cooling down.
I walked down the path in the dark. Some of the other families were settling down, going to sleep, and it was getting quieter. I got to the creek and took a water sample from the edge.
Back at the campsite, I sat down at the picnic table and did a litmus test on the sample. Yeah, I carry litmus paper in my pack---Don't give me that look. The water tested just slightly acidic, though it still would easily support life----Which, obviously, as we'd been seeing frogs, snakes, and fish all day, and had heard tell of a tall bird.
I picked up my stuff, and went looking for the Susquehanna Seal.
I walked down to the bridge. I stood for a while, looking out over the water. It's unbelievable how much paranormal investigation winds up being just standing around, waiting for something to happen. I took a few photos. I had my flashlight in my pocket---I hadn't needed it to walk the path down to the bridge----And the forest was dark and quiet.
The Susquehanna Seal had been said to make noise, howling at night, but all I could hear was the bullfrogs. There were a couple of fallen logs in the water. I looked at my watch; it was past ten-thirty. I'd been out later than I'd realized.
It was dark. I tried to think back, imagine it the way it must have been in the very early days. No camp, no highway nearby, just some settler cabins and Native American tribes. It would have seemed much more remote then, almost an impossible place to reach. The dark was pervasive. Sometimes, mysteries remain mysteries, and I'm good with that.
I could see how some floating logs or decent-sized snakes, maybe, could have turned into the legend of a monster. This forest was great. There was adventure here.
When I opened my eyes in the morning, Paul was next to me in his sleeping bag, smiling at me. "I think it's morning time, Daddy," he said.
"Yeah. It's morning. Let's let Mommy sleep for now, okay?"
"This was a fun camping trip."
"Well, we're not quite done with it yet," I said. "You want to go look for the tall bird?"
"Okay."
We pulled our sneakers on, crawled out of the tent, and walked down to the creek. We sat down on the little overlook platform and watched for a while.
Paul pointed excitedly over the water. "Daddy! There is the tall bird!"
I looked---He'd spotted it. The heron was soaring upward, over the water, heading upstream.
"You got it, little man! That's the tall bird!"
"I love it, Daddy!" Paul smiled. "Can we go camping again soon?"
"Sure we can."
It shot up, over the mountain, and then it was gone.
