I set the large envelope on the counter, and the postal employee looked at me.
"Anything liquid, perishable, explosive, or potentially hazardous?" she asked.
"Not today," I said.
"How about ghosts, goblins, or paranormal incidents?"
"Oh....Yes. It's my book about that stuff. I wasn't aware that was a requirement."
She grinned. "How about Bigfoot seen in Bald Eagle State Park? You see that?"
"My family and I just went out there to look around," I said. "It's no wonder there aren't a lot of prints reported. The ground is too rocky to leave any."
"I camp out there sometimes," she said. "Is it safe?"
"I don't see any harm," I said. "The sighting happened in the rustic campground area...."
"Oh, across the lake," she said.
I nodded. "And most of the reports of Bigfoot I've ever heard show no real threat. He tends to be shy, and runs away from loud noises."
"Well," she said,"My barking dog would take care of that."
I stood in the lobby doorway, looking out at the parking lot. Zach paused nearby. "Standing guard, Lou?"
"Watching the film crew unpack," I said. "I'm being filmed for a documentary today. They just got here."
Zach squinted at me. "Seriously? It's hard to tell with you."
"Oh, yeah. A woman named Jess came in from New Jersey to talk to me. She's doing a documentary on thunderbirds, and I've written about them." I turned from the doorway. "We'll be up in the Sloan Room."
"So what's your theory on thunderbirds?" asked Jess, a young blonde woman from New Jersey. She was standing behind the video camera, sitting on a tripod. I sat in the Sloan Room with my Bigfoot Saw Me But Nobody Believes Him sweatshirt.
"It's hard to say, but one possibility is a normal large bird off their usual territory," I answered. "The Andean Condor can get up to twelve feet in wingspan, but they're usually down in the Andes. If one happens to fly up here....Well, it's notable. It would be viewed as a monster."
"And would you say there's just one thunderbird, or a whole population of them?"
"It would have to be a whole population," I said. "We tend to talk about these things as if it's just one---Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster---But in actuality, one creature couldn't exist for hundreds of years. There would have to be many of them, living out their lifespans. This leads to a problem sometimes common to water monsters---The Population Problem. You have to figure out if their territory can support a whole family of them for any length of time."
"You handle this scientifically," said Jess.
"I try to. When I research, it's all about the proof. Some people don't seem to get that---Recently, I wrote an article about thunderbirds for the newspaper, hoping a witness might come forward. There's a local guy who is oddly obsessed with criticizing my work, and he wrote in, mocking my column. I think I have a new arch-enemy."
"Ooooh."
"I've been wanting one," I said. "I was considering putting an ad in the classifieds. My counterpart out in Iowa, Melody, suggested I call him Moriarty. It's fitting; he's an ex-professor."
"And what are your views on cryptids, scientifically?"
"You never know. People thought that other animals were imaginary, too---Pandas, gorillas, platypuses. All thought to not be real, until someone finally captured the first one. Then we knew it was real. Think what we'll know tomorrow."
Happens all the time. I'm on my way home, and someone flags me down because I'm well-known. I've started to have some understanding as to why Charlie Sheen went nuts. This time it was nice old guy in Mary's Alley, who came running out when he saw me coming on my bike.
"Hey! Lou!"
I stopped. He said,"You wrote that article on thunderbirds the other week. I saw one when I was a kid."
"Really?" I said. "I was hoping someone would come forward."
"It was about 1951," he said. "I was about eleven or twelve. My family had a cabin up along the Renovo Road, and I saw a big bird---I mean BIG. It looked like an eagle, but I've seen eagles. It was way bigger than that."
"I have a couple of friends working on thunderbird projects," I said. "A book and a documentary. Would you mind if they contacted you? They've been looking for witnesses."
"Sure," he said. "I read all your stuff."
I genuinely mean to call my dad more often. I mean, I want to, but then I get busy. I have good intentions, but you know what the road to Hell is paved with.
"Hi, Dad," I said when he picked up the phone. "Been trying to call you."
"Yeah, I saw you'd called a few times but didn't leave a message."
"Well, it was nothing pressing. Grandparents' Day was three weeks ago, but I was counting on you not knowing that."
"I didn't know that, in fact."
"Happy Grandparents' Day!"
"So, what else is new?"
"Paul's in virtual school. I self-published a book to make money for Highland Cemetery recently. How are you doing?"
"Well, since I have you on the phone, I may as well tell you," he said. "I tested positive."
It was a slow enough day that I was reading a Justice League comic book at my desk. Since I order the comic books, it's also quality control, which means I was technically working when Holly, the assistant children's librarian, walked into the old section of the building.
"Hey, Holly," I said. "Looking for something?"
"Just space," she said. "I needed to come down for a minute. It's getting a bit crowded up there; I couldn't stay six feet away from people."
"Ah, gotcha. Feel free to hang out here in the mayor's mansion area."
"I mean, you wouldn't think people would want to risk it."
"My father has Coronavirus," I said.
"Oh, no," she said. "I'm so sorry, Lou."
"He says it's mild," I said. "He says he's experiencing nothing more than a cough, and my brother has tested negative. Dad's been out in the woods mostly, hunting with his crossbow."
"Well, that's good."
"Mostly, yeah. I'm just worried." I leaned forward in my chair. It was the most vulnerable I'd ever let myself be in front of a children's librarian. "That's how it is in my family---Someone could be bleeding out their eyes, and my father would assure us it was no big thing. Don't worry, no problem was the story we got about my mother's cancer, and she died in eight months."
"Are you going to visit?" Holly asked.
I shook my head. "No plans to visit for Thanksgiving or Christmas. We have Paul to think of. It's been a year since I've seen my father, but that's the pandemic, you know? We're staying here in Lock Haven."
"That's the smart thing to do," agreed Holly. "I suppose I should be getting back upstairs now. I hope it's cleared out a little."
"Well, if you need to distance more later, come on down," I said. "Haunted part of the building's usually empty."
"....And if you look in these cemetery indexes, you can find any marked grave in the county," I said. "Any questions?"
Jayne, our new person, shook her head. "Not yet. Can I help you?"
She looked up at LaKeshia, my editor for the Pennsylvania Wilds, who had just walked into the PA Room. I said,"She's here for me. Hi, LaKeshia. You wanted a map, right?"
LaKeshia nodded, looking over her shoulder. "My boyfriend is over looking for a book. I wanted to see about an old map that I could have photographed, so I can frame it for a Christmas present. Do you have anything like that?"
"Yeah, I found a couple." I dug into the file in the closet, and came out with a copy of the 1869 map. We unrolled it on the table. "You have someone to photograph this?"
"I'm thinking Bill."
"Good choice."
"Is there any way I can borrow this without my boyfriend seeing....?"
"Since it's you, I'll authorize it," I said. "You parked in the main lot?"
"Yeah."
"I'll meet you there," I said.
I rolled up the map, walked across my office, and ducked out the porch door behind my desk. I walked around the building and beat LaKeshia to her car.
"Wow," she said. "How did you manage that?"
"I know where all the secret passages are."
We put the map in her trunk. I said,"By the way, there have been some Bigfoot sightings in Bald Eagle State Park recently. Paul and I have been out investigating. Sound like a good article?"
"Sure," she said. "I thought of you recently, by the way. I was at a conference in the Kane Manor, and I thought of that haunted article you wrote about it."
"Let me know if you need anything else," I said, and went back inside.
I needed some time to myself, alone. I felt like a Squonk. Fortunately the library is full of hidden places that nobody knows about. I went up into the attic.
In the spring, when we'd come back from quarantine, I'd discovered a small crawlspace nobody knew about before. You'd think in a building that was a hundred and thirty-three years old, we'd know them all by now, but apparently nobody had ever checked before. I pushed my way behind a shelf---I'd meant to move that back into place, and never gotten around to it---And crawled into the crawlspace.
It was empty, but made a good hiding space. Fortress Of Solitude. Except in the attic. I sat for a while, curled up against the wall.
I'm not sure how long I was there. I sat in the dark and didn't look at my watch. Finally I came back out and walked downstairs.
I stopped at the desk, where Zach was working.
"Back in a few minutes," I said. "I'm going out."
I rode up the Renovo Road to one of the big parks. It was reasonably close to where the thunderbird sighting had taken place, and as it was over sixty years ago, that would do. I parked my bike and walked through the grass and trees.
I looked down at the river. The Susquehanna ran right along the Renovo Road, coming from the Chesapeake and running clear to New York. Technically this meant that Chessie the sea serpent should have been able to visit Lock Haven, but I saw no evidence of that happening. I got my cell phone out of my pack and dialed Resurrection Casey.
She picked up. "Hey, boss."
"Hi, Casey. You got a minute?"
"I got nothing but minutes. I'm out along Trout Creek looking for squonks."
"Finding any?"
"No, they're about as good at social distancing as I am. What's up?"
"I'm near the Susquehanna, checking into thunderbirds. You able to look something up for me?"
"You know, you already own a cell phone. Just a little upgrade, and you could look these things up yourself."
"I'm happier making you do it. I need you to find out if birds migrate using water as a directive."
"Just a second....." I could hear Casey doing something on the other end. Then she came back on. "Quick search says that yes, birds can use water to navigate. You think that accounts for your thunderbird sighting?"
"Could be," I said. "A large bird, say a condor, that's not normally in the area....Something like that could have used the river to come up from the ocean and get off its usual territory. Around the same time, there was also a sighting in Jersey Shore, which is along the river, too."
"Sounds like a possibility," she said. "That answer what you needed?"
"It does, yeah," I said. "You headed back inside now?"
"Nah, I thought I'd stay out a while."
"Yeah," I said. "Me too."
"Yeah," I said. "Me too."
"We got a flood," Paul announced proudly to Tif as she pulled up to the front door in her wheelchair.
"You did?" She looked at me.
I nodded. "Michelle called me home from work on Saturday. The guy came to fix the bathroom faucet and couldn't. Michelle turned the water back on without checking it, and the sink overflowed into the bathroom and ran down to the kitchen. I came home to find enough water on the floor to float Raystown Ray."
"The best part was the corner," said Paul,"Because you could swim there."
"Paul didn't seem to see too much of a downside to the whole thing," I said.
"Will we still be able to do Thanksgiving?" asked Tif.
"Oh, yeah," I said. "We pretty much got it cleaned up. Paul asked if we could keep the plumber's Shop-Vac. Your chair got a pretty god soaking, but we're drying it."
"Thanksgiving at home this year," mused Tif.
"Dad's tested positive," I said. "I been worried. And, honestly, I'm enraged. You have no idea the fury I am feeling right now."
"I've been pretty furious, too," said Tif.
"We've been doing this since fucking March," I said,"And it's dragging out because people won't cooperate. And now people are traveling for Thanksgiving. I haven't seen my father in a year. So glad selfish assholes get to have a great Thanksgiving with their families. Meanwhile, because of them, I have to spend the holiday worried about my father."
"Have you called your brother?"
"It's the busiest season on the farm. I don't want to bother him unless I have to."
"Stuffing's ready," said Michelle, setting it on the table. I was standing by the stove, carving the turkey with the big knife. I always stated with the drumsticks and neat, clean slices, and then deteriorated as I want until I was basically just ripping chunks off.
"I want a drumstick," said Paul.
"I want a drumstick, too," said Biz.
"Drumsticks for the two youngest," I said, delivering the tray to the table. Everyone started taking food. I took a stick of celery with cream cheese---That had been a tradition in my family, and to this day, I have no idea whether it was really a thing, or my grandmother invented it herself.
"The white meat isn't dry at all," said Tif. "Let's go around the table and say something we're thankful for."
"Youngest goes first," said Paul. "I'm thankful for my family. And my dogs. And Ida."
"I'm thankful," I said,"That I have a family that gets into my adventures."
"Are you crying?" asked Michelle.
"No. I been drinking."
"I want a devilled egg," said Paul. "I helped make them. And I'm going to use my knife and fork, because manners."
"So when are we going on another adventure, anyway?" asked Biz. "It's been a while."
"Well, I do want to get out to Wildwood Cemetery in Lycoming County sometime," I said. "I've heard rumors of banshees out there."
After dinner and a couple of board games, I went up to my office. I sat down and wrote an article on voter fraud in Chapman Township in 1837. Then I picked up the phone and dialed Dad's number.
Just when I thought it was going to go to the answering machine again, he picked up. "Hello."
"Happy Thanksgiving, Dad. How you doing?"
"I'm well."
"That's good. I been concerned. Last time I talked to you, you'd tested positive."
"I'm fine. I had a couple of very bad nights, and then I got checked, and it came back negative."
"That's good to hear," I said. "I'm glad."
"Back in a minute, guys," I said at the desk. "Gotta run downtown a bit."
I walked down the staff stairs, grabbed my bike, and ran down Main Street. I parked in front of the post office and walked in.
"Anything liquid, perishable, explosive, or potentially hazardous?" the woman asked.
"Nope," I said. "Just my recent book. I'm sending it to my Dad."
