Go Bigfoot Or Go Home

"Oh, by the way," I said,"I found Bigfoot."
My wife looked at me from her car seat. "Did you, now?"
"Yeah. You remember that Bigfoot T-shirt I lost a couple of weeks ago? I finally found it. It was in the drawer with the superhero shirts."
She looked out at Highway 309. "Should I be watching for Bigfoot right now?"
"Probably. There have been some sightings, not too far from Dad's place. When we get there, I'm gonna check into it a little. Someone reported Bigfoot in the general neighborhood. They heard some noises, found some oversized footprints in the mud. People are thinking that all the rain and flooding has driven Bigfoot out into areas he wouldn't ordinarily be seen."
"How do you know this?"
"I get the newsletter. There's some reports of a vanishing hitchhiker, too."
"A what?"
"A vanishing hitchhiker. Sometimes they call them Resurrection Marys. You know, someone who catches a ride and then disappears."
"Right here?"
"No," I said. "Along 873, between Dad's place and Schnecksville."
"So why should I be worried about it now?"
"I didn't say you should, I said....Nevermind. I just said it was interesting, that's all."
"Are we almost to Grandpa's?" my son asked from the back seat.
"Almost there, little guy," I said, the way I'd said it fifteen times over the course of this trip. "We'll be there soon."

The sign said PSYCHIC READINGS AND TAX ASSISTANCE. It was outside the building on the corner of Main and Walnut Streets. That was typical Slatington.
I grew up in Slatington, Pennsylvania. Though I now investigate the paranormal in Lock Haven, I still visit home. We drove in the back way, through the forests, instead of the main way through Slatington. In the valley, we passed a place where the guy had wooden Bigfoot cutouts beside his barn.
"Those are kind of creepy in the dark," commented Michelle. "Did you see their eyes?"
I nodded. "Looks like reflective paint."
We pulled into the driveway, where the family was waiting. My brother Jon, is wife Amy, and my dad. Plus Miles, the little beagle.
"Hi Miles! Hi, Grandpa!" Paul called as he ran over. "We're here!"
"Check out my new keychain," I said to my brother. I held it out.
He looked it over. "A multi-tool. Nice. Is that Bigfoot?"
"Yeah, I decided I needed to replace the Piper Comanche keychain since I left the museum. It's got small wrenches and a bottle opener on it. And I have a new pen, indestructible titanium with an emergency tool." I was also wearing my green waterproof jacket with the survival kit in the pocket and the small survival tool sewn into the liner. It's possible I've taken the whole preparation thing a little too far.
"Come on in, you guys," said Amy. "Have you eaten? We have your room ready for you."
"Thanks, Amy," I said. I picked up my backpack. "It's good to see you."

It was late. Fifty-six degrees. I walked out onto the porch and sat down on the swing.
I was alone. Practically everyone but me was an early sleeper. I lit a cigar. I wasn't smoking them nearly as much since Paul was born, but I still liked to have one sometimes. I sat quietly and smoked.
My family owned thirty acres. I could see a significant portion of it from the porch, looking mostly south. The moon was almost full. I had a pretty good view.
It was as good a place as any to stake out the property and look for Bigfoot.
I sat and waited. The cigar would keep me out here about half an hour. I could hear crickets and bugs, a few birds. I could hear Highway 873, and it was half a mile away.
My home. I'd lived here almost my entire childhood. I'd organized my cousins into a group I'd called the Ghost Gang. I'd searched the fields for a mythical creature called the Christmas Tree Goblin. I'd made a sea monster trap for the pond. You know. Kid stuff.
I heard something, somewhat southwest. A loud thump that echoed through the valley---Something heavy. Then another one, and then the sound of a branch cracking.
Something was out there in the forest. It could be a bear---The last time I'd heard something like that, I'd encountered a bear on the Mid-State Trail.
I sat and waited a while more, but there was nothing more. It seemed to be done for the night.
So was I. I went inside and read a Stephen King novel for a while, and then walked upstairs to the guest room. To my surprise, I found Paul Matthew on the floor in my sleeping bag, still very much awake.
"What're you doing, little man?" I asked softly.
"I'm too excited to sleep, Daddy," he said. "I want to go downstairs."
So Paul had been planning a side adventure on his own. "No, you're staying in here," I said. "But if you want to sleep in the sleeping bag, I'll lay down and sleep with you."
Paul nodded. "Okay."

I slipped out of the house without anyone noticing. A lot of paranormal investigation works like that. My wife was watching TV, everyone else was out working the farm, and Paul was playing with Miles on the porch. Paul and the beagle were largely unsupervised, which was okay. My family's farm was the only place I was really comfortable with that---It hadn't killed me as a kid, and I'd been actively trying.
I got my green jacket, and threw my crypto kit over my shoulder. It was a black shoulder bag that contained everything I needed for checking into land monsters, water monsters, or flying monsters. I walked due north up the hill first, and then turned and went down, off the path. After a few hundred yards, I stopped.
I was now as far from any houses as I could get. I was in the most remote spot on the property.
I looked around. I didn't see anything too outstanding. As I'd walked, I'd seen one of the new homes at the top of the hill---A few new people had moved in since I'd been a kid. He'd had a hunting stand and a target range, and if Bigfoot ever wandered up there, he'd almost certainly be shot immediately. There was a deer track on the ground, in the mud, that stretched for about eight inches---The deer had slipped in the wet ground.
I walked downhill, toward the creek. All living things need water. If you want to catch a land monster, stake out the water. It's what I teach the kids.
The creek was way up, due to all the rain and flooding. I looked it over. This particular creek originated at the pond near the road, and ran about a mile into the Lehigh River. Right now, it had three or four other creeks running into it that weren't usually there, due to all the rain. If Bigfoot wanted water, he wasn't going to have much of a problem finding some.
There was no point in testing the water. I knew it was drinkable. I looked around at the plant life, checking to see if anything had been torn, damaged, eaten. Most of it had, but in a forest filled with furry creatures, I couldn't reasonably blame it on Bigfoot. For all I knew, Miles had been down here chewing on plants.
I spotted a print---It was large, maybe a foot or so long, but it was in a grassy spot, smeared an indistinct. Could have been anything. Just to be thorough, I got my camera and tape measure out of my kit. Holding the tape measure beside the print for reference, I snapped three photos.
There was no point in making a plaster cast. The print could have been anything.
The forest was filled with water, but somehow, I was coming up dry.

We were sitting on the front porch. Michelle was on both the swing and her phone, and Paul had started out there, but was now chasing Miles around on the floor. Dad held a cigarette; my father had been smoking since he was fourteen, which I assume was back in the 1700s.
"So we have two options for dinner," Dad said to me. "I can go pick up subs, or I can go out and get hot dogs from Yocco's. You have a preference?"
"I could definitely eat either of those," I said. "Let's let Michelle be the deciding vote. Hey, Michelle! Subs, or Yocco's?"
My wife looked up. "Oooh, Yocco's!"
"There you have it," I said to Dad.
He nodded. "It's hunting season," he said. "After dinner, I might just go out and see about getting a deer with my crossbow."
"You have a crossbow now?"
"I'm getting a little too old for regular bow hunting. The crossbow is a lot easier."
"Well, let me know if you happen to see Bigfoot."
Dad laughed. "I'll call you."
"I saw a few deer tracks down in the woods today."
"Yeah, there's deer. Still a few bears running around. I see them occasionally. Saw one about a month ago. The dog tried to chase it."
"Jesus. Miles couldn't take down a bear."
"He'll never believe that. It paid him no attention; it just walked down into the woods, toward the creek."
"Left some prints in the mud?"
"Of course."
I nodded.
"Thanks, Dad," I said. "That answers a few things."

It was cool and breezy. I walked along the road near 873, wearing my jacket and smoking another cigar. I'd done this walk a million times as a teenager, sneaking out of the house by climbing out my bedroom window, crawling over the doghouse and onto a cement wall, and launching myself into the grass. It was how I slipped out without alerting my parents, who probably wouldn't have noticed if I'd never come back.
Up ahead, near the junction of 873 and Church Street, there was a girl.
She had light hair, and was wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. She looked about nineteen. And, yes, she was hitchhiking. But she was very definitely alive.
She looked my way when I was about thirty feet away. "Don't suppose you're heading into town," she said.
I shook my head. "Sorry. I'm on foot, like you."
"Ah, damn. It's impossible to catch a ride this time of night."
"You do this often?"
"Mostly every night."
"You're my vanishing hitchhiker," I said.
Her eyes lit up. "Someone thought I was a Resurrection Mary? That's awesome!"
"You interested in the paranormal?"
"Hell, yes! I love the paranormal. I'm fascinated by it. Love your shirt! Bigfoot: World Hide And Seek Champion."
I smiled. "There's a convenience store right up the street. You want a cup of coffee?"

"So let me see if I got this straight," she said, sipping coffee. "You're a paranormal investigator. And a writer. You write about history and paranormal in the newspapers."
"And I work at a library," I said. "Part time."
We were sitting on the curb by 873, in the light of the convenience store, drinking our coffee.
"I wish I could get into something like that," she said. "I'm a journalism major at Lehigh Carbon Community College, in Schnecksville. I take some night classes, which is why I have to hitch back and forth. I usually ride into town and then jump out at a stoplight, which is where all the vanishing stories are coming from."
"I'm an LCCC graduate myself," I said. "My name is Lou, by the way."
"Casey."
We sat in companionable silence for a minute, drinking our coffee.
"So you're a journalism major," I said.
"Yeah."
"And you like the paranormal."
"Love it."
"Okay. First thing," I said,"Buy a bus pass, kid. You're gonna get yourself killed." I held out a twenty-dollar bill. "As I recall, this should keep you going for about a month. When that runs out, let me know, and I'll send you a check for more."
"Hey---No---I couldn't---"
"Yeah, you can," I said. "Consider this your first paycheck. Cause you're gonna work for me now."
She slowly reached out and took the money. "Doing what?"
"I live out in central Pennsylvania, but sometimes I need somebody on the ground here. I can't get back here as much as I'd like. If there's something that I need investigated in Slatington, I'll send you an e-mail, and you look into it. Get back to me with your conclusions. In return, I'll pay for your bus passes and help you get published in some good stuff around there---The Lehighton Times News, Morning Call, and maybe I can pull a few strings with the Lehigh Valley Tourism Region."
"That would be awesome."
I reached into my pocket, and gave her my survival kit. "This is yours now. You can add to it as you go; I'll get another one when I get home. This gives you everything you need to get out and do this kind of research. I'll train you by e-mail until you know what you're doing."
She looked it over. "This is cool. When can I start?"
"Right now. Your first assignment is to look into some of the Bigfoot sightings in the area," I said. "I'll send you the details. It looks like it's probably gonna be bears, but I want you to double-check me on that. I'm gonna be back for a visit in a month, and I'll sit down with you and talk it over then."
"Sounds great."
I held out my hand. "Partners?"
She shook it.
"Partners."

It was morning, the sun was shining, and my father was standing outside. He was watching my brother work on the roof of the new barn that he was building. Paul looked up hopefully at my dad.
"Grandpa? May I please have a tractor ride?"
Dad smiled. "Sure. Just let me get the keys."
A minute later, he was back with the big green John Deere. He started up the tractor, and I put Paul on his lap. I climbed up on the back of the tractor, hanging on, and Dad started to ride up the hill. Three generations riding on one tractor.
"Do you want to drive?" Dad asked.
Paul smiled. "Yeah!"
"Hold on....Put your hands here...."
It was like when I was a kid, and my grandfather had given us tractor rides. He'd had about fourteen grandchildren at the time, and had piled us all over his old Farmall---On the hood, the wheel covers, clinging everywhere. Safety wasn't invented, back in the seventies. It's amazing any of us lived.

We pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road. Paul was sitting in the back, already giving every indication that he was going to fall asleep. My wife glanced at me as I looked back at my childhood home.
"You find what you need?" she asked.
I nodded. "I've found enough."
As we made the turn onto Low Road, I was making some notes in my notebook. I turned the survival pen over in my hands and looked at it a little. I said,"Stop at the bottom of the hill, okay? I want to get photos of the Bigfoot cutouts."
She pulled to a stop at the bottom of the hill. I opened the door. Paul said,"What you doing, Daddy?"
"Just want to get a photo, little man."
I got out of the car and snapped a picture of the Bigfoot cutouts. The property owner was doing some yard work at his place across the street. He said,"I believe in that guy!"
"That's cool. I'm a fan," I said. "I wanted to get a picture."
"You go right ahead," he said. "Bigfoot hasn't come by yet, but I'm hoping to capture him."
As I was getting back in the car, I looked over my shoulder and smiled.
"I'm working on it."

From Bad To Curse

I was sitting alone in a dark hallway in Bellefonte, remaining very still and quiet while I waited.
My name is Lou. Among my other jobs, I'm a paranormal investigator. I was wearing my black uniform, identifying me as a member of the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers. My equipment was in a packet strapped around my leg and hanging on my belt. A digital recorder sat on the floor by my side. My teammates were scattered throughout the house, doing the same thing---Recording and waiting for ghosts. The client, SaraLee, was in the living room.
I've had worse Saturday nights.
"Nine fifty-three." It was my partner Kara, sitting in the bedroom behind me.
"Got it." I picked up my comlink. "Guys, it's nine fifty-three. The client reports a noise almost every night between now and ten-five. It's zero hour. Let's stay tuned."
Ashlin's voice came back from downstairs. "Okay, Lou. We're on it."
I set down the comlink and waited.
We stayed quiet for nine minutes. Until you actually do it, you don't realize how hard it is to sit still and silent. At three minutes after ten, we heard it.
A loud thump, coming from the direction of the living room.
"Did you hear that?" Kara asked from the room behind me.
"I did. There it was."
"Guys, was that you?" Ashlin, from downstairs, coming over the comlink.
"Not us. Unexplained. I'm in motion."
I leaped up and ran down the hallway, looking at the living room. Nothing. I checked out the front door---There was nothing, no car doors slamming, no people walking, nothing all the way up and down the street. I went back down the hall with my laser thermometer, checking each bedroom in turn.
I hit the button on the comlink. "Nothing. Gather in the kitchen, guys."
Kara and I walked down to the kitchen. From the basement stairs, Ashlin came up with the two newest members, Kris and Lacey.
I looked them over.
"We got it on tape," I said. "Nice work, you guys."

"Henry Shoemaker," I said. "Anyone who reads any of my columns will come across the name of Henry Shoemaker."
Ashlin, in the back seat, grinned. "Yeah, pick up any three of Lou's columns, you'll see Shoemaker mentioned about ten times."
It was an exaggeration, but not much of one. Kara was driving in the dark on Interstate 80, heading back to Lock Haven. Rain pattered against the windshield. Ashlin and Lacy were in the back seat. As Lacy was new, we were educating her.
"Tell her about the Giantess," suggested Kara.
"That's my personal favorite," I said. "It happened in present-day McElhattan, back in the sixteen hundreds. A Native American prince, Pipsisseway, fell in love with a girl from another tribe, but she left him for a warrior out west. He had a statue carved to look like her, but it was cursed---When he had it put up on the mountain, crops died, the river flooded, animals swarmed, and finally his dad, King Ironwood, ordered the Giantess taken down and buried underneath McElhattan Run."
Everyone was quiet, listening in the dark.
"So time goes by. Pipsisseway married, had a son. Ironwood died, and Pipsisseway became the king. And one day when his wife and son were traveling, he had the statue brought up and put back on the mountain. Well, the curse kicked in again....And this time it killed him. He died in a successful attempt to save his family."
"Do we know where he's buried?" asked Kara.
"We think we do. I found a cairn out near Zindel Park a few years ago. The people buried him near the Giantess, and there's a hint that the flood of 1865 dug up the Giantess enough that the curse was responsible for the death of Lincoln. The story ends with this spooky note about what will happen the next time it comes up. Well, that was about ten years ago, and it was us."
"Wait, what?" said Lacy.
Kara grinned. I nodded. "Back in 2008, I found a stone humanoid figure underneath the water, in Zindel Park. You have to know where to look. We did some investigating out there, got photos. I've been keeping an eye on it ever since."
"Cool," said Ashlin.
"You ever consider bringing it up?" asked Lacy.
"It'd be expensive," said Kara.
"I've thought about it," I admitted. "But it would be problematic. It's on city property, and in a tough place. My approach has been to leave it alone, and not disturb the curse."

"So, tell me about the Giwoggle," the guy said.
I smiled, standing behind the desk at the library. "Oh, you know the Giwoggle?"
"Well, not really," he said. "My wife saw you giving a tour one night, wearing that shirt." He pointed at my shirt, which did have the Giwoggle on it. "We were wondering about it...."
"Oh, sure. I've written about the Giwoggle a lot. It's Clinton County's official monster. It was from the north end of the county, said to be created by a witch. It was a wolf with the hands of a bird and the feet of a horse. People still spot this thing, along back roads."
He grinned. "Pretty cool. Hey, thanks."
"No problem. Thank you for asking....This is a more pleasant conversation than I usually have on a Monday."
My name is Lou. My job...I don't have a clue in hell how to describe my job. I'm a paranormal investigator, and I work at the local library. I give tours, and I write columns for several publications. I'm never sure what to call this, especially since "Ghost writer" is already taken.
I walked back to my desk and sat down. I did a little work on an article for the PA Wilds. Answered a few e-mails. Then I walked back to the rack, picked up the local newspaper, and sat back down. My column wasn't in it today. Front page---Some school district stuff, some city hall stuff. Weather---Consistent rain, and getting worse. Comics---Doonesbury was pretty good.
I found the article on the front page, and grimaced. Sue, walking by my desk, said,"What's up, Lou?"
"Oh. Ancient curse."
"On the front page?"
"Sort of. In a manner of speaking." I folded up the newspaper. "Now it's a Monday."

"There." Kara pointed out the window of her vehicle. "That's where the witness saw the Jersey Devil. That same house where you say it appeared in 1909."
I looked out the window at the Grove Street house. "Back then, there was Jersey Devil panic on every corner. People were calling off work because of Jersey Devil attacks. It reached out here, this far, with sightings in the winter of 1909. The newspapers report the guy in this house woke up and claimed to see a creature on his roof. He propped a ladder up the next morning, and let his neighbors look at the hoof prints in the snow. What did this witness see?"
"He woke up, late at night, and said he heard hoof sounds. Two hooves, not four. He looked out the window and saw a big shadow, something moving past----"
"Which window?"
"That one there, on that side of the house. He said something near the window growled at him. He didn't go out and check. He sat inside with his rifle the rest of the night." Kara shrugged. "His girlfriend's a friend of mine, and she told me. I thought you'd be interested."
"You thought right. I'll look into it."
Kara started driving again.
"Remember the Giantess curse? We were talking about it the other night?"
"Of course," said Kara. "I was there when you found the thing ten years ago. What's up?"
"I'm a little concerned." This is my social life, driving around talking about monsters and curses. "The local paper reports a huge problem with invasive species out there, bugs and plants that are doing a lot of damage. The city is dealing with it, but I may want to look into it. Guess where it's all happening?"
"You're kidding me. Zindel Park?"
"You got it. And I've seen cases where curses turned out to be real things----One case that was thought to be a curse turned out the be radiation, for instance. Depending on what causes the invasive species, it's not too hard to imagine people a long time ago assuming it's a curse. Now we have the invasive species, plus the latest flood warnings due to all the rain. I want to check it out. I need to get out there."

I stood in my office, on the second floor of my haunted home. The door was closed---The back side of the door, where nobody would see it, was where I kept my ghost-hunting stuff.
I pulled my shirt on: Black, with the LHPS logo. My jeans were black. I pulled on my steel-toed black sneakers, and stood up.
I passed over my tactical vest: For a small apartment, I wouldn't need it. I selected my leg strap instead, clipping it on my belt and snapping the strap around my leg. It held a camera, recorder, laser thermometer, and EMF detector.
I turned, checking myself over.
Ready.

"A camera, where, here?" Kara asked, pointing to a corner of the bedroom. "Would you say this is one of the hot spots?"
"This whole room is," said the client. "We've all seen ghosts in here. We're afraid to go in here anymore."
I walked through the apartment on Main Street, looking things over during our paranormal investigation. Kara and Lacey were busy setting up tripods and recorders.
"The building was built in 1869," I said. "It was part of the old Opera House, which doesn't exist anymore---This section was closed off, but the rest was torn down in 2005. This apartment was once occupied by a pharmacist and his family, and then later, a business owner who buried toxic chemicals in the Hill Section. He committed suicide, but not here---It was in a later home in Dunnstown."
I glanced out the window. I could see the courthouse across the block. I ran my EMF detector along the wall, and got a reading.
"Guys, I'm gonna step outside for a minute," I said. "I want to get a feel for the exterior."
Kara nodded. "Hurry back," she said.
"You want to take the back exit?" asked the client.
I looked up. "There's a back exit?"
The fire escape was tall, thin, and barely attached to the building. I walked down with some enjoyment, and took a walk around the back of the building. It was wedged between two bars. As I walked around the exterior, taking photos from the sidewalk, a flock of drunk girls came out of the Riverside Saloon. One of them called to me,"Hey, could I buy a cigarette off you?"
"You could if I smoked," I said. "I haven't really since my son was born."
"Hey, that's great," she said. "Good for you. It's my friend's birthday."
"Well. Happy birthday."
"How come you're taking pictures out here?" asked the birthday girl.
"Paranormal investigation." Was a time, I felt stupid saying that to people. But that's long past.
"Oooh, cool! Is there a ghost in there?"
"Well, I don't know. We're still looking into it."
"Can I have your autograph?" asked the friend.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah! This is really cool!"
Five minutes later, I walked around the back in the alley. I glanced at the house on Grove Street for a moment---The ghost hunt was right across the alley from the house where the Jersey Devil had been sighted. I looked it over for a minute, then took out my EMF detector and walked across the alley, into the back lot.
It lit up immediately and went red. I walked through the lot, hearing the familiar brrrrrr that meant I was picking up electromagnetic fields. It didn't shut off, which was unusual---It kept consistently getting a reading throughout the entire lot. Power cables strung over my head, and tied into the east side of the building right above me.
I walked back upstairs.
"That took a while," commented Lacey.
"Snd autgrfs," I mumbled.
She wrinkled her nose. "What?"
I sighed. "A couple of drunk girls asked me for my autograph."
Lacey laughed. Kara said,"So, when you weren't performing for the paparazzi, did you learn anything?"
"Well, we're right near the Jersey Devil house," I said. "The back lot, behind the building? It's solid EMFs. Wall to wall readings. I've never seen EMFs so heavy outdoors before."
"Really?" Kara's eyebrows rose.
I held my EMF detector up to the window, which faced that lot. It immediately lit up.
"Wow."
I nodded. "I'd bet on like eighty percent of their problems being caused by the heavy EMFs. You know how some people are sensitive? I think we have our answer, right there."

"So, Dad," I said,"Electromagnetic fields."
My brother-in-law Michel laughed. "You just jump right into it, don't you?"
I was in Slatington, sitting on the front lawn of the house I'd grown up in. It was my brother's birthday, and his wife was throwing him a party. I sat with my food and my iced tea. My son was playing in the yard with his cousins, whom he'd always adored.
"What?" Paul shouted. "You guys are here? Are you very serious? Are you kidding me right now?"
Amy, my sister-in-law, walked past and gave a nod to my shirt. "Is that Bigfoot riding the Loch Ness Monster?"
I grinned at her. "You like it? It's new."
"What about electromagnetic fields?" Dad asked.
"We check for them when there's a haunting," I said. "I had a place on Main Street recently that was packed with them. The parking lot, out back, was wall to wall with them. My detector went off, and didn't stop."
Dad frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."
"I agree, but here we are."
"What's there? Overhead, next to?"
"Apartment building. The power lines come in on that side, connect to the meters. Regular lines, far as I can see. No fields on any of the other sides."
"It could be due to what's in or under the building. Can you check what's buried underneath?"
"I can find that out. How much interest would the power company have in this? Fixing, cutting down?"
Dad shook his head. "None, unless there's a problem. It doesn't hurt anyone."
"Was this at night?" asked Michel.
"Around midnight."
"I'd check during the day, or at dusk," he said. "Street lights could have affected it. A cable would be buried, and it would be off during the day."
"Moving right along, is there a chance that high electromagnetic fields could affect migration patterns in birds?"
"It's possible," Dad said. "That kind of thing can happen. I remember when we put in the high-power lines at Lake Wallenpaupack, and people were concerned about the birds."
I nodded.
"That tells me a lot of what I need to know. Thanks, Dad."

"So I was with my friend, and we found a brick from the Queen's Mansion!" the man said. "How much could we get for that?"
I stood in the Pennsylvania Room, among the history books. "Let me guess," I said. "You found a brick with a stamp on it, that says Queen's Run."
"Yeah! I knew Queen Anne had a mansion over in Farrandsville, and I found this brick! Now I can get rich!"
"I doubt it; they're everywhere," I said. "While it's true that Queen Maria Christina of Spain had a mansion in Farrandsville, the brick with the stamp wasn't part of it. That was manufactured by the Queen's Run Fire Brick Company---They made thousands of them. Queen's Run had nothing to do with the actual queen; it was a mispronunciation of Quinn's Run, named after Samuel Quinn. What you have is a regular, common brick, though an interesting artifact."
He looked at me. "So you're kind of a history guy around here?"
"I dabble."
I pulled out Linn's History, flipping to the part about Wayne Township. I checked for minerals in the area---It was listed in the second column.
I walked out to the main desk, where Joe had shut down most of the lights. "Closing time," he said. "You ready to get out of here?"
"I was beyond ready two hours ago."
I set the alarm, and we all moved out of the library through the back staircase. As we went out into the parking lot, Zach said,"I'll see you guys tomorrow. I have to make a stop at the grocery store on the way home, pick up some baking stuff."
"I have to make a stop, too," I commented. "Some ghost-hunting follow-up."
I climbed on my bike and rode across town down Jordan's Alley. It was dusk; I could see the sky turning pink. I pulled up in the parking lot behind the Main Street apartment, and got out my EMF detector.
"Hey, big guy," I said. "Sun's getting real low."
I pressed the button. It came on and....Nothing. No signal. I walked in circles for a moment, and nothing lit up. It was getting darker. Then the streetlights came on, and my EMF detector beeped.
I walked back and forth. It gave me a patchy, intermittent signal. Not as much as it had lit up the other night, at midnight, but it was finding EMFs. During the day, nothing. But it increased overnight.
Now I need to check the curse.

In the pouring rain, I ran down the path. I was wearing my waterproof jacket, the green one with all the survival equipment concealed in the pockets. I'd been along this path in McElhattan a thousand times, but it looked different. McElhattan Run was up, raging in the wood to my right, and the path was about half covered in water.
I dodged the puddles, trying to get in and out before the path was flooded out. I was going in alone---I couldn't ask Kara to do this. She'd have come.
Up ahead, the path was washed out by rising water. I took three steps and leaped, going over it like Green Lantern and coming down on the other side. I got to the end of the path, and turned left, over the stone bridge. And then I was there. The home of the Giantess.
Zindel Park.
Built in 1929, Zindel Park was a scenic portion of the city water system, coincidentally placed right where the Giantess story had happened. About ten years ago, I'd discovered the humanoid sculpture in the water, and chosen to not publicize it. I stepped up onto the concrete platform above the water, and looked down. The run was churning too much; I couldn't see the Giantess underneath.
Of course it's a flood. This thing was even said to have caused the flood of 1865.
I stepped back down onto the wet, mushy ground and knelt down.
I got my EMF detector out of my pocket, held it up, and turned it on.
Nothing.
Then I lowered it to the ground, and it lit up.
There was magnetism here. At ground level, the place was loaded with EMFs.
And that explains a lot. I looked around at the park. I have some idea what's going on now. Rest easy, Pipsisseway. I got this covered.

"So how was the Main Street investigation?" asked Millie.
It was the monthly LHPS meeting. I sat in the living room with my friends: Millie, Kara, and Theresa. "Went well," said Kara. "We didn't find much on video, and there was a lot of interference on the audio."
"I found a high amount of EMFs in the building and outside," I said. "I think that's their problem right there."
Kara nodded. "I agree."
"Overnight, when the street lights come on, the EMFs go up to incredible levels," I said. "In addition to causing the apartment to feel haunted, I think it caused a Jersey Devil sighting. The EMFs affected migration patterns, screwing up at least one bird. Kara, take your phone and look up 'Great Blue Heron'."
Kara brought a video up on the phone, and played it. It showed a large bird, making a loud, frightening groaning and growling.
"I think that's what the witness saw and heard," I said.
"I think this is crazy, Lou," said Kara. "He's a hunter. He'd recognize this. he said he heard hooves."
"When blue herons snap their beaks, it does make a sort of clopping sound, like hooves. I checked."
"It could have been a deer," said Kara.
"They have been known to come downtown, I'll admit," I said,"But the hunter wouldn't recognize a deer?"
"Enough with the sarcasm."
"I also checked out the Giantess sculpture, out in McElhattan," I said. "I think it's something similar, magnetic fields. The curse, in the story, is described as crops dying, birds blocking out the sun, stuff like that. Which could be caused by invasive species. That could be caused by birds getting off their migration patterns---Birds can carry seeds with them, which can grow and choke out the crops."
Millie nodded. "That makes some sense."
"The ground out there is loaded with iron," I said. "I looked it up. Moving it around, carving it, placing a stone heavily mixed with iron....That could have shifted the magnetic fields. Over time, they'd build up, and cause what the Native Americans would view as a curse. The good news is, once they start digging out there, it can break the field and calm everything down for a while."
"Could be," said Theresa.
"So anyway," I said,"Case closed on that one." I sat back. "Is there any more orange soda?"