Tours De Force

I walked out of the house in my black ghost shirt and my waterproof blue overcoat. Paul followed me as far as the porch steps.

"Back later tonight, little man," I said. "Gonna see how my new bike works, and give a haunted tour. Make some money for the library."

"Yeah!" he cheered. "Haunted tour!"

"Yeah!" I cheered back.

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

"YEAH!"

"YEAH!"

Michelle and Tif came out onto the porch. I said,"Hopefully I'll be back before bedtime."

"This is gonna be every night for a while, isn't it?" asked Tif.

I nodded. "Due to COVID, I'm only allowed ten people per tour. So I had to split them into two weeks' worth of tours, pre-paid. Tonight's the first---I get out among the ghosts. I admit I'm a little jumpy. It's been a long time since I did a tour."

"Good luck, Dad."

"Let's hope it works," I said. "You wanna haunt this town? Then tonight, you work for me."

Monday, October 19

"Thank you for coming," I said to the young couple. "Thanks for braving the rain to support the Ross Library. Have either of you ever been on one of my tours before?"

The woman raised her hand. I said,"Okay, well, this one has some new stories and some old stories. My name is Lou, and I'm field leader of the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers. It's important to note that I can prove everything I say---All of this is researched. I take pride in that---If I say someone died in a house, I can show you a document that proves it. Our first story is right here, the Ross Library, haunted by our founder, Annie Halenbake Ross. You guys ready to have some fun?"

Tuesday, October 20

"Hundreds of years ago, the Native Americans called the Susquehanna River Valley 'Otzinachson'," I said to the crowd, which included three children. "It meant 'The Demon's Den,' and they believed the area to be haunted. Much later, when Lock Haven was settled, a lot of it was built over their burial grounds. One of the sites was the Catholic school, right over there."

I pointed, and the kids got all excited. The little girl said,"That's our school! We go there every day!"

"I'm gonna tell all my friends!" said one of the boys.

"If you'll follow me, we'll talk about some more haunted sites in Lock Haven," I said. And I walked to the sidewalk, everyone following. 

An hour later, I got to the final stop on the tour. "This church, in 1905, was the site of a haunting, when the ghost of the murdered Vincent James Sesto appeared at his own funeral to accuse his killer."

The kids got all excited again. "That's our church! We go there every Thursday!"

"I wonder if Father Orr knows!" said the little girl.

I forced a smile as I continued the story, and murmured,"I'm gonna get hate mail from the Catholics again."

Thursday, October 22

I walked into the back room, where Zach and Tracey were working. "As of tonight," I announced,"I broke my old record."
"That's great!" said Tracey, who somehow manages to still sound appreciative when I get like this.

"Back in 2016, I set a record of four hundred and fifteen dollars," I said. "With the money coming in from all the tour bookings, I'm now over five hundred, and still going. I might even break six hundred by the time it's all done."

"That's not bad," said Zach. "A pretty good profit."

"Especially considering nobody, including me, has to work all that hard for it," I said. "All I gotta do is walk around and talk about ghosts, and honestly I'd do that for free. This is gonna be a hard one to beat, though, but that's next year's problem."

Friday, October 23

"....And if you're wondering if the Fallon Hotel is on the haunted tour, don't be silly," I said. "Of course it is." I stopped on Water Street, turning to face the crowd, the old hotel behind me. "Built in 1854 for the Queen of Spain, the Fallon has had plenty of people die within its walls. Some of them have been unidentified, and buried in potter's fields in the county. Now, it's important to note that the queen never stayed here, but several famous people did. In the 1870s, one of those was Mark Twain, and---"

Several people in the crowd gasped, looking up. I glanced back. "What's up? We having some activity?"

One woman pointed. "The curtains on the second floor just moved."

"No kidding? Looks like we may have some company tonight." I smiled. "Could be a draft. But it could also be we have a visitor on the tout---Maybe the fact that I'm talking about the place every night has made them active. Keep your eyes open, okay?"

I unlocked the staff door to the library and walked inside, counting the money. I had thirty-five dollars to add to what I'd already taken in. I walked up the steps and into the main library.

I looked up. At the end of the hall I saw a light---The elevator was rising by itself. I was alone in the building, but something had started the elevator.

I smiled.

"Hi, Annie."

Saturday, October 24

"Another in the category of 'obviously on the haunted tour,'" I said as I stopped in front of the building. "The Simpson House."

The house behind me rose three stories, towering above the street. It looked genuinely haunted, as if it belonged in an old black-and-white movie where the young couple's car breaks down out front. I said,"What you're looking at is two buildings in one. This started out as the Jackman House, a small, square, plain-looking brick building. D.K. Jackman sold it to Wlliam Simpson, who took some teasing from his so-called friends for being a lumber guy and having a brick house. So he had wood panels carved, and built up around the Jackman House. He didn't damage the structure at all, just basically wrapped it up. Now, I understand we have two women with us tonight who lived in this building, and I'd be an idiot to pass up this chance. I'm going to give them the chance to talk about what happened to them here. This is called 'Getting the public to do my job for me'."

Monday, October 26

"Thank you for coming out and supporting the Ross Library," I said to the crowd. "I hope everyone's ready to hear some ghost stories tonight. Now, I'm making a little change to the tour from here on in---I'm bringing along some of my equipment. As I give the tour, I'll be doing a little investigating." I held up the laser thermometer. There was a homeless guy on the patio behind me.

Everyone gasped, a small round of applause rippled through the crowd. I said,"We had a little activity at two of the sites the other night. I think the ghosts are getting a little more active. So I'm going to do a few tests, and see if we can catch any evidence."

Tuesday, October 27

"What time you need me tomorrow?" Tif asked. "Noon, or one?"

"One, tomorrow," I said, walking beside her on the sidewalk. "Gotta give a tour after work. I have a \n author coming on my tour---The guy who wrote the Pennsylvania Fireside Tales series."

"Well, that's cool," she said. 

"It feels weird," I said. "I mean, he's a really nice guy. But the famous ghost writer is coming on my tour? Who the hell am I?"

Tif laughed. "You know people feel that way about you, right?"

"Yeah, that feels weird, too."

Thursday, October 29

"Hi, I overheard a guy the other night saying someone died in the building? I wondered if I could hear more about that?"

"You want History," Zach said. "Guy at the desk back there."

The homeless guy from the other evening came around the corner. "Hi," he said. "I overheard you the other night....You were giving a tour or something? Said someone died in the building?"

"Well, died while still living here," I said. "Annie Halenbake Ross and Mary Elizabeth Crocker both died while still living in the building. Annie's funeral was held about here, at my desk."

"I was playing with an app on my phone at the time," he said. "It reviews radio frequencies. And at the time, a voice came through. A female voice that said,'I'm aware you're here.'"

"Oh, yeah?" I grinned---Not that you could see it behind the mask. "That's pretty cool. We've been getting some activity lately; I think my constant talking about the ghosts has riled them up."

"I thought you'd like to hear that," he said.

"Yes," I said. "Thanks for letting me know."

Friday, October 30

I stood in the library's restroom, drying my mask off under the hand dryer. It's incredible how damp those things get after you wear them all day. When I was done, I shoved it in my pocket and walked to my desk. 

I could hear the elevator going up and down, all by itself. Again. I smiled, and checked the weather. Gonna be a cold night.

Pulling on my coat, I went outside.

To my delight, SaraLee was waiting outside when I got there for the final tour. I gave her a hug.

"I know we're supposed to be socially distancing, but...."

"I know," she said. "Screw COVID."

I turned to the crowd. "We have a special guest with us tonight. My partner SaraLee, from the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers, came along tonight to join us. Now, I'm hoping for more activity tonight---We've had plenty this week. I just saw the elevator moving on its own inside the building." I smiled at the crowd. "Thank you for coming out to support the Ross Library. I'm a member of LHPS. My name is Lou."

Exhausted, I unlocked the back door and walked into my house. Duke and Gwen were curled up, asleep on their dog beds. I dropped my pack in the corner and dumped my coat on the chair.

I walked up the stairs, quietly, and changed my shirt and my sneakers. I glanced into Paul's room.

My son was asleep, sprawled out in his bed. I leaned over and gave him a kiss while he slept. He stirred just a little bit, and then settled.

I looked at my son for a moment, my little growing boy, sleeping in his room.

Home.

Sasquatches In The Mist

"Lou? Phone's for you."

"Thanks, Zach." I set down a stack of books on Pennsylvania hauntings, and picked up my line. "Hi, can I help you?"

"Hi, I was wondering if you have a book about Bigfoot sightings in Clinton County."

It was an older voice, female. I said,"Specifically Clinton County?"

"Well, yes. I have a brother who moved to West Virginia. He's really interested in that, and I was hoping to send him a book about where Bigfoot has been sighted around here."

"Well, that's pretty specific, ma'am," I said. "We have plenty of books about Bigfoot, and some on Pennsylvania, but nothing I'm aware of that's localized to Clinton County."

"Oh....I was hoping you might have written one."

"Haven't gotten to that yet," I said. "I have done a few articles. If you'd like to stop by, I can print off a few for you."

"I can do that," she said. "I'll be there in an hour."

I sat down at my desk and opened my e-mail. It was packed---I deleted all the junk mail, and then was left with three messages forwarding me a Bigfoot sighting not too far away. Several people had considered that worthy of notifying me. Apparently when Bigfoot comes up in conversation, I'm the guy who comes to mind.

This happens. Someone writes about a local ghost, a monster, a buried treasure---And my network of friends all have to send it to me. It's one way I stay informed on these things.

I did a search on myself---Yeah, I google myself, get over it---And found a couple of my old articles about Bigfoot. I printed them off.

"Anything new and interesting, Lou?" Zach asked as I walked to the desk.

I shrugged, picking up my printouts. "Bigfoot sighting. The usual."

A woman stopped at the desk. She was wearing a mask with panda bears on it.

"I'm looking for Lou?"

"That'd be me," I said.

"I called," she said. "About the Bigfoot articles."

"Oh, yes. Here you go." I handed her the articles. "Hope this helps."

"I was hoping there was a book that I could send him," she said. "He's really interested."

"Well, that's a fairly narrow topic, ma'am," I said. "I mean, there are Bigfoot books, and books about Clinton County in general. But I can't think of anything that combines both."

"Oh. Do you have nay Bigfoot ones for sale?"
"Not here, no. But you might want to look into 'Weird Pennsylvania'. That's a pretty good one about Bigfoot in a lot of areas."

"But not Clinton County."

"Not specifically, no."

"Well, I don't believe in this, but he does."

"You never know," I said. "Panda bears were considered mythical, until a live one was captured."

She looked at me in surprise. "Really? I love pandas!"

"I noticed the mask. Yeah, early explorers to Asia came back with stories of black and white bears, and they were told there was no such thing. They were considered a myth. Until the first one was captured. Now we know them to be actual animals. So don't discount Bigfoot, offhand---New species are discovered every day."

I parked my bike in the garage---New bike, a jet black thing with blue and green trim, and I was being careful with it. Carrying the grocery bags, I walked up to the haunted house. You get used to it when the haunted house is yours.

I walked in the back door. A little elderly Schnauzer was lying on the kitchen floor, crying because he couldn't stand up. I set the bags on the counter.

"Oh, Kasper," I said. I knelt down and picked him up. He nestled his head into my shoulder. 

Almost three years ago, we'd taken in two sweet little senior Schnauzers who'd needed homes. Mickey and Kasper. Mickey had died from cancer a year ago, and Kasper was getting older and older. I'd been resisting thinking too much about that. More and more, he'd been unable to stand and walk.

I laid him down in his bed. "Here you go, little guy. Take a nap. I love you, little buddy."

He was still lying on the bed the next morning. His breathing was shallow, and he was barely moving. I was glad Paul wasn't awake to see this. I sat down on the couch and looked at him.

"I love you, Kasper," I whispered. "I've always loved you. Ever since we got you, you've been a good dog." I started to cry. "We're gonna take you to the vet, and he's going to make it so you're not hurting anymore, okay? You'll be happy and playing with Mickey soon. I love you, Kasper. I love you. You've been a good dog."

That night, Kasper was gone.

"Daddy?" Paul looked around the corner of the doorway. "I can't sleep. Can I sit with you?"

"Five minutes," I said. "Then back to bed." Paul hates to sleep. Anti-bedtime is his only actual strong political position. We go through this practically every night.

He crawled into my lap. "I miss Kasper."

"I miss him, too," I said. "I miss the little guy a lot."

He began to cry. "All I want is for Mickey and Kasper to still be here."

It doesn't sound like much when you put it that way, does it? I hugged him. "I know, little man. Me, too. But they knew we loved them. And maybe they're playing together now."

He cried for a little while, and I held him.

"Are you working tomorrow, Daddy?"

"No, I'm off tomorrow," I said. "I'll have all day to spend with you."

"Can we do something fun?"

"Sure," I said. "Maybe a hike?"

"I love hikes."

"Well, about three different people have sent me an article about Bigfoot down in Bald Eagle State Park."

"Where's Bald Eagle State Park?"

"Remember when we went to that firefly program? That's where."

"Okay," he said. "Let's look for Bigfoot."

"Tomorrow," I said. "Right now, it's time for bed."

"Where was this Bigfoot sighting?" my wife asked as we drove through Bald Eagle State Park.

"Hard to tell," I said. "I'm a little dubious on the reliability of it, in all honesty. The witness mentioned Pine Creek, which isn't even in the same county. But I know he was camping in Bald Eagle State Park, and got up to go to the bathroom. He said he saw the Bigfoot walking near the creek that night."

"This is really remote," said Michelle, looking around.

"We oughta camp here sometime."

"I don't know," said Michelle. "What about bears?"

"Bears are a concern anytime you camp anywhere. The trick is knowing what to do."

"Well, then, you need to teach us what to do."

"Paul?" I said. "What do you do with a wild animal?"

"Lift me up," said Paul. "And pick up your jacket so you look big."

'There you go," I said. 

"There's restrooms up here," said Michelle. "Should we park there?"

"As good as anyplace, I suppose," I said.

We got out of the car. The weather had gotten colder, and I was wearing my black Bigfoot Saw Me But Nobody Believes Him shirt and my lack leather jacket. I said,"All living things need water. We'll walk down toward the lake. There's a path over here that's not listed on the map."

Paul looked at the sign. "Log....Slide....Trail," he read carefully.

He started walking down the trail. Michelle said,"It is safe to let him run ahead like that?"

"He's wearing a Rainbow Dash jacket and pink tights," I said. "Kid dresses for visibility. He's also loud as hell pretty much constantly. We're not gonna lose him."

We walked down the trail. I said,"Look at all this rocky terrain. It's not a surprise I don't hear more reports of footprints out here."

"I heard a noise, Daddy," said Paul. 

"What did it sound like?"

"Sort of like arrrrrrrrooooooo."

"Well, that does sound like Bigfoot, allright. And what does the Loch Ness Monster say?"

"Three-fifty."

I stopped on the hill and looked into the woods. Michelle said,"What is it?"

"Probably nothing." There were broken branches propped up against a tree in a more or less conical fashion. "I've heard reports of Bigfoot shelters, where people find sticks propped up in the woods. Almost certainly campers or hikers, but it doesn't hurt to check."

I took a couple of photos of the branches, clearly deliberately placed against the tree. I walked around the tree, examining the ends of the branches. 

"What are you looking for?" Michelle asked.

"Well, any indicators," I said. "These branches weren't sawed off, they were snapped off. Which doesn't prove anything, actually. Obviously it was done by someone without access to saws, but that doesn't rule out a camper up here."

"But nothing says it wasn't Bigfoot," said Michelle.

"No," I said. "That's true. Nothing rules it out."

"Daddy? I can't sleep."

Again. It was every night lately. Paul was having a hard time dealing with the loss, which is understandable when you're six. I said,"Come here, sit down a minute."

He curled up with me on the couch. He said,"I wrote this."

He handed me a torn piece of paper. On it, he'd scrawled I LOVE YOU TOO MUCK MICKEY AND KASPER.

"Oh, buddy." I hugged him. "You can't love someone too much. There's no limit. We loved Mickey and Kasper, and we made them happy to live here. We're going to miss them, but it was good to have had them here. I'm sad, too....But things will get better again."

"Daddy? Can I sit here with you for a while?"

I nodded. 
"For a while, little guy. Sure."

The Fall Of The House Of Fishburn

There weren't supposed to be kids in the Tiger Den.

I was on my way home from work after a busy day with a three-hour webinar from hell. Last year at this time, I'd have stopped to lock up the Tiger Den, the local playground in my neighborhood. But that was in the Before Times, when Coronavirus hadn't closed everything down. The Tiger Den was supposed to be locked to avoid spreading the virus.

But I was seeing it---Gate open, lock missing, and kids playing on the swings. I stopped for a moment and watched. One of the girls from the grocery store across the street was watching, and she said,"I thought the parks were supposed to be closed."
"Yeah, they are," I said. "I should call the mayor." I always feel pretentious saying stuff like that.
I dug my cell phone out of my pack. Five minutes later, Mayor Joel was getting out of his car.
"What the hell?" he said as he approached the gate.
"Yeah, I know," I said. "Lock's completely gone."
He looked it over. "Someone just took it off the chain," he said. "Could be someone making a political statement."
"Yeah, I thought about that."
"I have a temporary one for now," he said. "I'll send somebody to replace it with a better one in the morning." He clipped one on. "I mean, who would do this? Makes me mad."
"Yeah, I knew you wouldn't be thrilled about this."
Joel laughed. "Nah, you did the right thing by letting me know. Thanks."
"You know how to find me if you need anything," I said. "Gonna go home and tell my son how I teamed up with the mayor to save the Tiger Den."

"Dutcavich....Etters....Fegler..."

I stood in my office, filing the obituary cards for the Pennsylvania Room. The Ross Library has newspapers going back as far as 1813, and a new part of my job was to file the new index cards as they came in. I'd been at it maybe an hour.

So I took a break for a moment. Messing with history wears you out. I sat down at my desk and checked my e-mail, and I was surprised to find a message from someone I hadn't heard from in a while.

I flipped through the index, and then stopped, looking at one of the cards. I laughed. Pulling it from the drawer, I walked over to my co-workers at the desk.

"You guys gotta see this," I said. "Death of a kid in 1876. Look at the name."

Mel squinted at the card. "Fishburn. Edgar Allan Poe Fishburn."

"Edgar Allan Poe Fishburn," I repeated. "The perfect find for October. I wonder if his parents were fans."

"You have to assume so," said Barb. 

"Let me guess," said Tracey. "You're going to dig into this a little more."

"I think I will," I admitted. "I might find something I can use on a tour, actually, or write about. I mean, how do you not look into a kid named after Poe? I'll see if I can find his grave, but personally, I'm hoping he's buried under floorboards, or sealed in a wall or something."

"Got an e-mail from John today," I told my wife.
"John...."
"Piper Museum."
"Oh, right, the president," she said. "They want you back?"
"He asked if I'd be willing to take on the Piper newsletter again," I said. "They haven't had one since I left, and he said it was often a pretty good fundraiser."
"You gonna do it?" Michelle asked.
"I'm thinking about it,"  I said.
A few years ago, I'd been curator of an airplane museum on the east end of Lock Haven. Though I'd loved the work, I'd felt I wasn't spending enough time with my son, and I'd resigned two years ago. Since then, I'd gone on to some other things that took up less time.
"I'm going to meet with him," I said. "Sometimes I miss the museum, though not as much as I'd thought I would, and I really miss John. We'll sit down in his office like we used to, and talk things over."
"Are you taking Paul down?"
"Thought I might," I said. "He always loved the place. It'll be good to see the Aztec again."

It had been two years.

I hadn't seen the inside of the Piper Museum since I'd resigned in 2018. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed it until I walked inside with Paul, seeing all the artifacts and displays again.

"They still have the Super Cruiser model," I said. "I hung this up myself."

The receptionist, Stacey, came around the corner. She was visibly surprised to see me. "Hi, Lou," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"Came to meet with John," I said. "Is he around?"

"He's out to lunch. You remember how that goes."

"I do. I'll get with him later if I have to. Okay if I go walk through the hangar?"

"Sure. Help yourself."

Paul and I walked down to the hangar, and strolled around the planes. I touched the Aztec, which had always been my favorite plane.

Hello, old friend. I've missed you.

"Daddy, don't touch stuff," said Paul.

"Yeah, you're right," I said. "Look. This green one is new---A new Tri-Pacer. This wasn't here when I was."

"Cool," said Paul.

I started with the newspapers.

It took me a while, with the microfilm. The further back you go, the screwier it gets, but I'm probably the person in the county who is most used to that. Finally I found it in a blurry column at the top of page four, the son of Dr. J.H. and Rebecca Fishburn, with a scribble of poem included.

I checked the cemetery records, and to my surprise found most of his family buried in Highland. His mother, brother, and sister were buried in Section 11, over the top of the hill. I checked the rest of the county---Sometimes weird things happen---And didn't find Edgar anywhere. His grave was unmarked, which was probably about right for a kid named after Poe.

So I grabbed a city directory and looked for the houses. Interestingly, his brother had grown up to live on my street, and married the daughter of Mayor William Elliott, who lived next door. His mother had lived at 315 East Main Street.

Every one of them had died young, including Mayor Elliott.

Nevermore.

"Maybe there will be people on top of that building again," Paul commented as we sat down at the table with our Chinese food.

"Maybe." The city had been opening up downtown areas for outdoor dining on the weekends---One little positive effect of the pandemic. Michelle dug into the bag and passed out our food.

"I chose something to surprise you," she said. "Picked it from the spicy menu."

"Looks good," I said. "I could use a little bit of spicy today." I opened the egg rolls. "When we're finished, you want to take a ride up to Highland Cemetery?"

"Yay! Highland!" said Paul.

"We got nothing else to do," Michelle agreed.

After dinner, we rode up to Highland Cemetery in the Prius. Michelle said,"Where are we going?"

"Section I."

"I have no idea where that is."

"Take the lower loop, the back way around to the hill."

"Just tell me when to stop."

"Turn left."

We pulled up along the back end of the cemetery, and I got out. A moment later, Paul was following, wearing his black dress.

"I'm sinking, Daddy," he said.

"That's because you're wearing high heels."

"What are we looking for?"

"Graves with the name Fishburn." This kind of thing is a little easier now that Paul is learning to read.

I saw it almost immediately. Partway up the slope, I spotted the graves of Rebecca and her other children. "Here they are," I said.

Paul came over. "You found Fishtail?"

"These are the ones I needed," I said. "And here's a space, right here...."

"What do we do now?" Paul asked.

I knelt down. "This is where Edgar Allan Poe is buried," I said.

"How do you know?"
"I can tell by looking. See how there's a space here? The grass is a little greener, and the ground takes a dip. This is the grave of a child."

"It looks like I won't be going back to Piper, after all," I said, sitting down at the table. "They hired a new weekend guy, and the board thinks he can do the newsletter."

"Ah, sorry, Dad," said Tif. We were on the third floor of the library for my lunch break. "I know you were looking forward to that."

I unwrapped my sub. "Well, I'll survive. Spend more time at home with Paul. Write another book. Find a few adventures. But it was good to go and visit the place again."

Paul looked over at me. "If they need you to help sometime, will you?"

"Probably," I said. "I always did love that place. If they asked, I'd help."

"Can I come, too?"

"Sure," I said. "You can always come along and help."

"And see the planes?"

"And see the planes."