Then I blew it out, took a match, and dipped it into the melted wax.
"See, little man?" I said. "Let that dry, and the match is waterproof. We can take that out in the woods, get rained on all night, and still start a fire."
"I want to try," said Paul.
I handed him the matches. He dipped one in and rolled it around.
"Good," I said. "Once they dry, we'll keep them in this pill container. It's from Kasper's pills."
We both did a couple more. I said,"We can also do this with dryer lint. Put wax on it, and it's waterproof. It gets wet, it doesn't matter. Still start a fire."
"We'll take it camping," said Paul.
"You want to take a little ride?"
"Yes! Can we take our scooters?"
"Of course."
We got our razor scooters and headed east down Grouse Alley. I was wearing my black jacket tricked out with all the equipment in the pockets, and Paul was wearing a sleeveless shirt and black vest with his boots. We looked like Mad Max in Lock Haven. During the pandemic, we'd been riding around a lot on the scooters. Perfect transportation, given the situation. Months ago, I'd been trying to think of some way to get around when I was travelling without my bike. In this crisis, I'd found it.
We went down South Jones Street and past Mount Vernon. Pulling off to the side of the road, I looked over the industrial pond and the stream that led out to Bald Eagle Creek.
"I'm scared, Daddy," said Paul.
"What's scaring you?"
"The train tracks are scary."
"It's okay, little man. Nothing's gonna happen if we're careful. There's not a train coming right now. You remember what the most important thing is if you're lost in the forest?"
"Water."
"Right. You can only live a couple of days without water. I'm trying to plan out a way to get some if everything goes down."
"Can we get water?"
"Pretty sure. I can get under that fence to the pond and get some, or hike along the tracks until I reach Bald Eagle Creek. And since they're not taking recycling at the moment, we have plenty of containers. I'm sure it won't come to that, but it pays to be prepared."
"Can we go back home now?" Paul asked.
"Sure, little man. We can go back home."
"Race you," he said. "Last one home is a dirty rotten egg."
"So the Express has me writing a series on disasters from the past," I said at the dinner table. "It's giving me something to do from home." I took a sip of iced tea.
"Are you day drinking?" Tif asked.
"It's iced tea. I'm not above that at the moment. But it's iced tea."
"Not handling the quarantine too well?"
"It's not easy being a stay-at-home paranormal investigator," I said. "How many times can you search your own house for ghosts?"
"You already know your house is haunted."
"Yeah, so there's not even any suspense to it."
"Come up with anything good for your articles?" asked Tif.
"The 1847 flood was interesting; I never looked into that one before. It seems to have hit hardest up around Keating area. Amusingly, I found a story of a lost treasure up there."
"What kind of treasure?" asked Michelle.
"The cabin of Robert Lusk was washed away. He'd been storing gold in one of the hollowed-out logs. He chased it down river, but couldn't catch it. It broke apart, and he never did find the log."
Tif laughed.
"We should go and look," suggested Michelle. "If you found lost alcohol, you can find a log full of gold."
"It crossed my mind," I admitted. "We could even take a drive up there during the pandemic. At the best of times, Keating is not exactly overpopulated with people."
I walked into the backyard carrying three bandannas, three jackets, two mops, and a giant stuffed gorilla. As one does. Dumping the whole thing onto the ground, I laid the gorilla in the grass and cut a stick from a nearby branch. "Okay, little man," I said. "Which leg did the gorilla break?"
Paul considered it a moment, and then pointed at the gorilla's left leg. "This one."
"Okay. Now, what do we do for a broken bone?"
"A splint!"
"Right. Let me show you." I tied the stick along the gorilla's leg with the bandannas, holding it in place. "Now, he can't walk out of here with a broken leg, right? He's gonna need help?"
"Right."
"Right. So we're gonna make a stretcher. You ever see that on TV, where they carry someone who's hurt like that?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. In an emergency, you can make a stretcher out of poles and some jackets."
I laid the mops parallel to each other, and slid the jackets onto them, putting the mop handles through the sleeves. Then I zipped up the jackets. I laid the whole thing beside the gorilla, who was being remarkably calm about all this, and said,"Okay, see? We gently roll him this way, and slide the stretcher under. Then we lay him back down. Grab those ends."
Paul picked up his end, and I lifted, and we picked up the gorilla. I said,"See how this works? We can carry him until we get help." It's not exactly complete selflessness with which I am teaching him these things. During the pandemic, I have been trapped in the house eating canned food with a five-year-old, and my blood pressure is already alarmingly high. I might need this kid to know how to provide medical care.
"Let's carry him to the hospital!" The hospital, in Paul's estimation, turned out to be on the concrete sidewalk a few steps away. We gently lowered the gorilla to the ground. Paul knelt beside him.
"He needs surgery," Paul declared,"But he's gonna be okay."
"Good night, little man," I said, and kissed Paul on the head. "We'll do more stuff tomorrow."
"Daddy? I'm scared of ghosts."
I sat down on the edge of his bed. "How come?"
"They float around and go woooooo."
I smiled. "Well, buddy, the only ghost we have here is Ida. And she doesn't do any of that. She just watches quietly, She was a kid, too. She's kind of like a big sister to you; I bet she loves you."
"Okay/"
"Love you. See you in the morning."
"Good night, Daddy," he said. "I love you."
I closed his bedroom door and stepped out into the hall. Walking down to my office, I sat down at the computer. I was working on an article for the Pennsylvania Wilds---I'd thought of writing an article about the survival skills I was teaching Paul, in the hopes it might give parents a way to keep their kids busy. It's not easy writing articles to promote tourism during a quarantine.
I was a few paragraphs in when I heard something downstairs. I walked on down, and found the gorilla knocked over. We'd left him sitting at the bottom of the steps, and he was lying on his side a couple of feet away.
Could have fallen over. But I live in a haunted house. Besides, I'd been a little bored lately.
I walked into the kitchen and picked up my backpack---The first time I'd touched it in days. I usually have a few pieces of investigative equipment somewhere near. I got out the small pouch and emptied it onto the table.
Camera, laser thermometer, EMF detector. I scanned around the room and found no temperature readings. Walking through the downstairs, I took several photos. I was saving the EMF detector for last. Our house, for some reason, had metal beams, which made the EMFs go absolutely nuts.
In 1905, my house had been owned by the Yost family. Ida Yost had been abused, and killed herself on my back porch by drinking an ounce of acid on August 19, 1905. Ever since we'd moved in, we'd thought her to be haunting the place. Unexplainable things had happened almost since the beginning.
I went upstairs and shot a message to SaraLee.
She was online, and she and I had a quick discussion. She'd come to visit s few years back, and had some psychic insight. I don't trust a lot of psychics, but I trust SaraLee.
L: Sara, a few years ago, you visited and commented that you got a feeling in my house. Can you give me some information on that? I'm having some nighttime experiences.
S: I felt sick with a vomiting bug in the upstairs bedroom. She would always manifest in the room second door on the right.
L: Well, your descriptions of the layout fit. And you getting sick like that, when she drank acid.
S: I never knew the poisoning thing. She did not like her dad. There was some abuse there.
L: Yeah, I found court records once. Her father was charged about two weeks after her death.
S: Love the validation!
L: I'm gonna go poke around with some equipment. I'll keep you posted. Thanks, Sara.Psychics drive me crazy. But I'd become quite fond of SaraLee.
I walked back downstairs and picked up my equipment. I sat down at the table and pulled out the file I had on Ida---Research I'd done years ago. I had her obit, the court and cemetery records, a listing of who had owned the house. It didn't tell me much that I didn't previously know; I can't remember everything, but I'd had Ida's story memorized for over a decade.
The kitchen lights began to flicker---Flashing on and off rapidly. It was the most dramatic thing I'd seen in this house for a while. I pressed the button on my EMF detector, and it lit right up, registering high EMFs.
Then it all stopped, and things went back to normal.
I did another sweep of the house with the equipment, but it had all died down.
"It's all gonna be okay, Ida," I said, and went back upstairs to finish my article.
"Okay, little man," I said. "Daddy's had his morning coffee. Let's go outside and learn a few things. You remember how to fix a broken leg?"
"You get a stick, and tie it like...." Paul made tying motions around his leg.
"Right. Do you remember what it's called?"
"A splinter!"
"Close enough. Come on, let's do some learning."
"What are we learning today?" Paul asked.
"Let's give the gorilla a break," I said. "Today we're gonna learn how to do CPR on your duck."
We picked up the stuffed duck and walked outside with it. I set him down, and Paul climbed onto his swing set. He began to push himself back and forth.
"Hey, Daddy! Ida wants you to push her on the swing!"
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