Cryptid Summer: Midnight Prius To Georgia

It wasn't my idea to go to Georgia to visit my in-laws. But it was kind of my fault.

Michelle's mother had refused to get vaccinated for COVID. My wife had been worried about her.

"Tell her we're not coming for a visit until she's vaccinated," I said. "We couldn't take that risk."

Michelle, in a phone call, had evidently told her mother just that. And a week later, we'd been sent a photo of her getting her first shot.

"Well, now we can visit," Michelle said happily.

"I didn't say we'd definitely go," I said. "I said we wouldn't visit unless she did...."

"I'm going to visit my mother in Georgia," Michelle said. "Now, are you coming, or not?"

Which is how I came to be sitting in the Prius halfway across Virginia. It was the first time I'd been outside Pennsylvania in nearly two years, thanks to COVID---The last time I could recall leaving the state, it had been an overnight trip to New Jersey in November of 2019 to look for the Jersey Devil. The last time I'd been in Georgia specifically was about six years ago, when we'd finalized Paul's adoption. We'd stopped for a visit on the way home. I try to avoid going to visit my in-laws more than, say, twice a decade.

I was wearing my shirt with an America map on it, with cryptids on each state. I figured I could use it for directions if I got lost. I'd packed one cryptid shirt for every state we'd be traveling through. I didn't want to think too deeply into what it meant that I actually own one cryptid shirt per each state.

But I had a couple of things planned. There was a haunted cemetery near Michelle's mom, and the Altamaha-Ha, a water monster from nearby. I'd learned about the Wog, a dog-like monster in the state. I planned on slipping off to investigate those, if I could.

Someday, I might travel and just do the planned itinerary.

But not in Georgia, for damn sure. And not today.

I rolled out of bed in a hotel in North Carolina, wearing my Lake Erie Monster pajamas. My wife was already up. 

"Should we call the kennel?" she asked.

I nodded. "I'm worried about Duke. He wasn't doing too good yesterday."

Duke and Rosie were in a kennel in Avis for the week. We'd gotten calls from them as we traveled yesterday, with seventeen-year-old Duke not feeling well. We dialed the kennel on her cell phone.

"Hi, this is Michelle," said my wife. "We called to check on Duke and Rosie."

"Oh, Duke is doing better," said the kennel lady. "The emergency vet put him on antibiotics, and he's up and around now. He ate some canned food. We had to mix the antibiotics with the canned food; he doesn't like to be given pills."

"No, he doesn't," I agreed. "But he does love canned food."

"We put him in his own cage, but he didn't like it. When we moved him in with Rosie, he felt better."

"How is Rosie?"

The lady laughed. "She's fine. She's a little sweetie."

Paul came out of the bathroom carrying the little hotel soaps and shampoos. "Do we get to keep these?"
"We do," I said. "You know what else they don't mind you keeping? This notepad and pen. You can write with them if you like."

And that was how I came to have notes delivered to me from the back of the Prius via paper airplane all the way to Georgia.

I walked across the sandy lawn, careful to avoid the fire ants. The South. Jesus, the South drives me up the wall. You'd think I'd enjoy a place more when the insects are all basically already cryptids.

I retrieved my laptop case and cryptid bag from the Prius, and went into the trailer.

"There's cactuses growing on the edge of the lawn," I said. "Cactuses. I don't think I've ever seen a cactus in the wild before."

"Oh, we got 'em growing all over the place," said my mother-in-law.

I turned to my wife. "There's a trailer across the road that looks like a serial killer stole it from another serial killer."

"Probably is," said Michelle. "Pizza for dinner? My sister's on her way over."

"Sure." I picked up my copy of Weird Georgia, which I'd brought along. I began paging through. I found a mention of Saint Simons Island, said to be haunted because of slaves that drowned themselves in the ocean. According to legend, you could hear the ghostly chains rattling.

"You want to go to Saint Simons Island tomorrow?" Michelle asked. "My friend Mary Jane is staying near there."

"Sure," I said. "I'm up for that."

Didn't even have to be sneaky about that one.

I was in the back of the vehicle, Michelle's old school friend Mary Jane driving. I shared the back with Paul and Mary Jane's granddaughter as we headed for Saint Simons Island. Paul and the granddaughter had hit it off right away, comparing toys and favorite games.

"The island is haunted," announced the granddaughter.

"Is it?" Mary Jane asked. "I never heard that."

"Me either," commented Michelle. She glanced back at me. "Lou? Did you know anything about this?"

"I've read about it," I said. Just last night, in fact. "Weird Georgia has a whole chapter on it. Slaves who died, haunting the island."

"Good! Finally!" said Paul. "Ghosts! Something me and Daddy can do together!"

I smiled. "You know, there's a haunted cemetery near Nana's place. Also, a water monster. We can go check that out, if you like."

"Yeah!" said Paul. 

I walked along the beach, Paul playing at the edge of the water. I was wearing my Altamaha-Ha T-shirt. I knelt down and picked up a shell, turning it over. Tif had wanted us to bring her home some shells. I saw the live crab inside, and set it down. I picked up another one. There was a crab in that one, too.

I walked along, found a couple of clamshells that seemed to be crab-free, and dropped them in the side pocket on my pack. I got out my K2 meter and took a reading---Not much of a flicker. There wasn't much point in trying the laser thermometer, not with the ocean on my side and the breeze. What I really needed was a few minutes with the digital recorder, but that wasn't going to happen on this trip.

I picked up another shell. Nope, crab.

A little later, we walked up to the top of the lighthouse. A hundred and twenty-nine steps to get there. I stood on the edge and looked far out, over the ocean.

I'm at the edge of America. Out where I'm looking, it's not my country anymore. This is the edge of my land. That's always fascinated me.

"Look out there, Paul," I said.

"Cool," said Paul.

"I can't believe I didn't want to come to this place," said Paul in the back of the Prius. He was polishing off his corn dog and starting on his grape slush. With COVID, Sonic was the perfect place to sit and eat in the car.

"Knew you'd like this," I said. "You want to stop at the river and get water samples on the way home?"

"Sure," said Paul.

I turned to my wife. "You can get us to the Altamaha?"

"If I remember the way."

"Last time, it was Jaycees Landing Road...."

"That's right, I remember now. Wasn't that the place where the old people on the porch swing told you that you were going to be eaten by an alligator?"

"Yeah, that's the place."

"I wonder if they're still there."

"They may still be on that same porch swing, for all I know."

We pulled down the ramp to the river. The old people weren't there, but there was a redneck in the water. He was riding a four-wheeler into the water, with a Confederate flag on the back. Jesus christ. The South. There was a sign that said "No Swimming," and technically, he was following that particular rule---Swimming usually doesn't involve four-wheelers.

He rode away as I got out of the car. "I'm coming with you," said Paul.

"Hoped you might," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed my crypto bag from the back of the car, and slung it over my shoulder---Green bag with a Bigfoot patch on it. We walked down to the water, and I handed him a sample container.

"Go ahead, we'll both get a sample." I knelt down and scooped up some water. I was still wearing my Altamaha-Ha shirt. Maybe the monster would notice.

"I got it half full," said Paul.

"That's plenty for our purposes." I took a few photos.

Michelle was looking around. "Wasn't this where the old people were? I don't even see the cabin. Just that set of restrooms."

"My guess is a tornado took out the cabin, and they replaced them with the restrooms. Gonna rain. Lets; get back to the trailer."

I set the water samples on the counter and got out my litmus paper. "You want to show Nana how this works?"

"You take the color-changing paper," said Paul. His grandmother leaned over to watch. I was reasonably sure that Paul had more experience with litmus paper than Michelle's mom. "You dip it in the water and it changes color. See?" He held up the paper, which had turned a light green.

"Match it with the chart," I said.

The litmus paper came with a small chart that had all the colors, acids to bases. Paul lined the paper up. "That one. Seven."

"That's right. And what does that mean?"

"Things can live in the water," he said.

"That's right. Maybe a water monster."

For the first time in four days, I walked into a library. But this one was on an island. And a thousand miles away from Lock Haven. And probably not quite as haunted.

"Hello," said the staffer at the desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, just browsing," I said. "I work in a library up in Pennsylvania, and I kind of wanted to compare."

"Welcome!" he said. "My name's Jim. We use Overdrive for our digital services."

"Yeah, us too. Still getting used to the system changes."

He nodded. "We got a lot of patrons into it last year, when we were closed for four months because of COVID."

"Yeah, us too. Did some virtual tours to keep people busy."

"That's a good idea. What are you doing on Saint Simons Island?"

"My wife is from Georgia. We're visiting family."

Paul stuck his head in the door. "Dad! Come on!"

I smiled. "My son. Nice talking to you."

I walked out to the park area, holding the K2 meter. As I approached the picnic tables, it lit up, going red for a moment. It continued to flicker, not a steady reading, but jumping back and forth to red, as high as I've ever seen a reading. I held it up to Paul.

"Check it out, kid."

Paul looked at the meter. "That means there's electricity."

"Or ghosts."

"This place has electric lights," Michelle pointed out.

I lowered the K2 to the ground, and it went dead. "I'm only getting a reading about five feet off the ground. If there are wires, they'd be buried; I'd get more readings at ground level. Something's going on here."

"We're going to take Paul swimming," she said. "You able to kill a little time?"

"Sure. I'll explore a little."

Michelle took her sister and her mom into the pool area with Paul. I shrugged my backpack on and walked around the island. The visitors' center, the touristy downtown stretch along Mallery Street. It always amazes me, travel. All you have to do is sit in a vehicle for some predetermined length of tie, and you can just be someplace. Somewhere everything is different.

I bought a new T-shirt at one of the stores and then walked down to the pier. With my camera, I walked out to the end and looked at the ocean. Jesus, I love the ocean. I mean, to see it I always have to be in godawful places like the deep South or New Jersey, but I love the ocean.

I walked to a local bar and had a beer, my first in a while. It was really nice just to sit in a bar again. I was to the point I reach in every trip, when I'm ready to go home. I missed Tif and Biz. I missed Rosie and Duke. I missed Gracie, and the library, and pretty much all of Lock Haven.

So I did what I always do when I'm down. I went out and researched the mysterious.

 I walked back down to the park area and took a few more EMF readings, getting those high red flickers again.

"Hi, Daddy!" Paul was approaching down the path, followed by Michelle, Jill, and their mom. I set my pack on the picnic table.

"You have fun swimming, little man?" I asked.

"Yeah! There was a slide!"

Jill indicated the large poles holding up some of the hanging tree branches. "Know why those are there?"

"I assumed to support the branches after they got to a certain size."

"Yeah, one of them fell and killed a picnicker a few years ago."

"That's not where I expected this to go," I said.

"These trees are really, really old," she said.

I considered it. "About how old are they?"

"I don't know exactly, but really old. Several hundred years old."

"Ah,: I said. "That explains a lot." I turned to Paul. "That's why I might get a reading around the trees. The ghosts are familiar with them---The trees are the only thing that have been here as long as they have."

Friday morning, on an overcast day, we packed everything back into the Prius and got in. I said,"Ready to go, little man? We got some neat stuff to see on the way."

"Yeah!" said Paul. "I miss Rosie."
"Me, too. Also, there's a water monster in North Carolina---He's in Lake Norman, so they call him Norm. We'll take a look as we go past."

"Can we stop at Sonic?" Paul asked.

I nodded.

"Let's get on the road."