Quoth The Haven

Thy soul shall find itself alone

'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone---

Not one, of all the crowd, to pry

Into thine hour of secrecy...

"This is your brain on ghost stories."

I cracked a couple of eggs into a measuring cup and scrambled them up. With Michelle and Paul out on a shopping spree, I had some time to make myself breakfast. Rosie followed along, because you never know, I might drop something edible. 

From the front room, I heard a bark. Just one single, very familiar-sounding bark. Like fifteen years worth of familiar.

I set down the knife and walked into the room. I glanced out the front window---Nobody was out on the sidewalk.

I looked down at Duke's empty bed. 

"Duke?" I whispered. "You there? I miss you, buddy."

I felt myself beginning to cry. "You were such a good dog. I loved you, pal. Things just aren't the same without you. I hope you're still around; I hope you can hear me. I miss you so, so much."

I sat casually at the meeting, taking notes in the haunted house. When your best friends are ghost hunters, that happens.

Millie, Ashlin, and SaraLee sat with me in the living room. The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers were back to meeting once a month, which we hadn't been able to do since February of 2020, when COVID hit.

The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers were back.

"So anything else for us, Lou?" Millie asked.

"I met with my editor recently," I said. "Turns out, her family owns the Straub Brewery up in Saint Marys. Great beer. They're convinced it's haunted, and they'd love to have us up there. Maybe for a public event in a year, once COVID numbers are down."

"I have a feeling that won't be until July of 2022," said SaraLee. "But I'm in."

"I knew you'd be."

"What about the other investigations?" Millie asked. "Should we start requiring proof of vaccination?"

"You know, that's a good idea," I said. "Things aren't going to be getting any better until it becomes more of a problem to stay unvaccinated. We really should do that. I'll contact our clients and ask."

"What we need," Millie said,"Is a place where we can just go and investigate, without a client."

SaraLee held up her hand. I turned and looked at her.

"That's right, your place," I said slowly. "That's a great idea. I'm in."

"We have activity," SaraLee said. "And I'll have you guys in anytime."
"I love it," I said. "Let's do that for our next meeting, in September."

"Are we bringing all of the equipment, or just the personal stuff?" Millie asked.

"Let's go with just the smaller stuff," I said. "We'll do an inventory in October, check to see what still works. We always have the October meetings at your place anyway, Millie. I'll wear my new outfit....I changed it a year ago. You guys remember the tactical vest? I got rid of that because it looked too much like the terrorists who raided the Capitol."

"Yeah," Millie said,"You don't want to be associated with them."

"Instead I went with a more casual outfit, with buttons and stuff all over it. Nobody mistakes that for a terrorist."

"You ever going back to the vest?" asked SaraLee.

"I don't know. When the world calms down, maybe."

"Do me a favor," I said to my daughter. "Find our when Edgar Allen Poe died."

My daughter Tif picked up her tablet from the kitchen table. "Alexa," she said. "When did Edgar Allen Poe die?"

That annoyingly calm computer voice came on. "Edgar Allen Poe died on October seventh, 1849."

"Okay," I said. "That checks out."

"Do I want to know why I just did that?" Tif asked.

"I was talking to Kevin the other day," I said. "You remember my friend Kevin? The Thunderbird specialist from New Jersey? He turned up documentation of an old Shoemaker story that suggested Edgar Allan Poe carved his initials on a cave in Centre County."

"Cool!" said Tif.

"I'm a little dubious on that," I said. "But when I was checking some of the local ghost books in my office, I found a mention of the Eutaw House. Supposedly, Poe stayed there overnight once, about 1836, when he was visiting family in the area, maybe trying to deal with a family member's death. It's said that he carved his initials in one of the tables there: EAP. The house has been around since about 1823, and if Poe didn't died until 1849, the timing at least works out. It's said he's still haunting the place."

"That's really cool," said Tif.

"I'm not sure how true it is."

"Shut up."
"Hey!" said Paul, playing with Rosie on the other end of the table. "Don't tell Dad to shut up!"

"I want to think Edgar Allen Poe is haunting the area."

"Well, I'm working on that," I said. "I actually have something else going in Centre County right now. I'm going to check into this Poe thing at the same time."

"Hey, Lou, you know where Reeder's Tavern is?"

I turned from where I was ordering breakfast. The question came from the cluster of old guys drinking coffee at a table---Every fast food place has them. I think they're mandated by federal law. "I think so," I said. "Up along the pike?"

"Yeah, that's the place," said the guy. "There's a cemetery up there, just before you get to it. It's on the left. We were wondering what that was."

"It's on the left," said another guy.

"I'd have to look it up," I said. "Feel free to stop by the library----"

"Yeah, we wondered about that," the guy continued. "It's a little thing, right by the side of the road. It's hard ot describe where it is---"

"No, I got that---"

"It's on the left," the second guy said again.

"There are seventy-three cemeteries in Clinton County," I said. "I don't have them all memorized. But we have all the cemetery records, so I can look it up."

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to say where. But it's up along the pike, near the Black Forest. You ever go to the Black Forest?"

"I'll check into this," I said. I turned to the guy at the counter, who was watching with some amusement. "Ham and egg sandwich, please."

I biked back to the library. The weather was cool and the leaves were just beginning to turn. I've always loved autumn more than any other season. Something about the fall energizes me, makes me feel as if there are new adventures ahead.

Back at the library, I pulled the Gallagher Township cemetery booked and checked the map. Up about where they were describing was Luculls Cemetery, which was indeed on the left. I dialed down to the shop.

"Hi, it's Lou....I was just in there? Are the seniors with the coffee still there? I was wondering if you could pass on a message for me. It's Lucullus Cemetery, founded 1862. Yes, that's right. Thank you."

Okay. Serious research. I started with "Haunted Pennsylvania," re-reading what I'd already discovered. then I checked the index file---You never know, sometimes you get lucky. There was one mention of Edgar Allan Poe---He came up in a Henry Shoemaker story called "She Knew The Poet" from the Indian Steps book. It's right across from my desk, so I pulled it and read the story.

Shoemaker had Poe visiting the area around 1836 or so, staying in a local mansion called the Walters Mansion, and falling in love with a woman who lived there. I cross-referenced it---I checked the location of the Eutaw House, and then pulled the 1874 map of Centre County. I found property very near the location owned by a family named Walter---John Walter, George Walter.

Hot damn! Corroboration. That felt good. Is it haunted, or not? Only your paranormal investigator knows for sure.

Lunch time. I pulled my food out of my pack and went upstairs. Paul had been making me sandwiches to take to lunch lately---With COVID numbers rising, I wasn't going out and getting lunch anymore. I was eating upstairs to avoid sitting at my desk maskless.

Today's sandwich was salami and ham. I sat down to eat it. I'd had an enjoyable summer full of cryptids, but it was nice to be diving headfirst into ghosts and old legends again. I perused "Haunted Pennsylvania" again while I ate.

Harrison Shawley had bought the Eutaw House in 1939. He claimed to have found the old sign in the attic and renamed the hotel, and found the initials EAP carved on a table. Shawley had been the one to start publicizing the story of Poe's visit.

So, a timeline....

1823: The Eutaw House built. 1836-ish: Poe allegedly visits. 1912: Shoemaker writes about it, with a certain amount of embellishment. 1939: Shawley maybe reads the Shoemaker story and starts telling poeple that Poe visited.

Edgar Allan Poe. 1939. I'd heard those things together before. Why was this banging on my subconcious so hard....?

After a moment, it hit me.

"The Poe Toaster," I said to Tif. "You familiar with the Poe Toaster?"

"Is that an appliance?"

"It is not," I said. "Beginning sometime in the 1930s, a guy in an overcoat and hat started showing up at Poe's grave once a year. He would leave roses and take a shot of cognac, then disappear. Happened annually until 2009, and then he wasn't seen again."

"Oh cool. Now that you mention it, I think I heard something about that. I didn't know about the cognac, though."

I was cooking dinner. Rosie sat down at my feet as I chopped kielbasa. I dropped a piece for her; Rosie gets a lot of table scraps. "Here's the thing. Harrison Shawley bought the Eutaw House in 1939, and needed a way to publicize it. He was the one who claimed to have discovered the initials carved in the table."

"You think he was the Poe Toaster," said Tif.

"I think Shawley may have been the Poe Toaster."

"How long did he live?"

"I checked the cemetery records. Shawley died in 1988, but he had a son and then a grandson. The grandsom died in 2009, which is when the Poe Toaster stopped. So the times work out. The Poe Toaster may have been from Centre County."

"That's cool. You going to write about this?"

"Nevermore."

"Okay, where do you want me?" I walked out onto the patio, where staff and volunteers were unpacking boxes of books for the annual fundraiser. Mel glanced around the patio.

"Get busy," she said.

"I could use a few more specifics."

"We haven't put anyone on the religion section yet. Go unpack religion. That'll be fun for you."

"First time in a while I've got religion."

"Nobody buys them," she said,"So neatness doesn't count. I don't care how they're arranged."

I was stacking up a bunch of Tomato Bisque For Your Mental State books when Barb came out. Looking around for a moment, she found me. "Lou? Your wife called. She said to call back."

"I'll use my cell. Thanks."

Then it took me a few minutes to find my cell phone in my backpack---I rarely ever use it---And forty-five seconds to turn it on. I'd timed it once. I called home as I walked out into the backyard of the library.

"Yeah? Got your message."

"Paul's running a fever."

I felt a sudden panic---A fever. Christ. After a year and a half of COVID...."How high?"

"A hundred point five. I want to give him some Tylenol and call the doctor to see if he needs a COVID test."

"Okay. That sounds like a good plan. Call me on my cell and let me know."

I hung up and slipped the cell in my pocket. Then I collapsed, crouching against the wall of the library. Crying. Wrapping my arms around myself. 

Paul. 

My son.

"I called off work today," I said. "I won't be going in. Gonna spend all day at home with you."

Sitting at the kitchen table, working on his math, Paul nodded. "Good."

"Maybe later we'll give Grandpa a call. You did really good with the test today, buddy. I was proud of how well you did with that."

"Daddy? I'm scared."

"What are you scared of, buddy?"

Paul started to cry.

"I'm scared I have COVID."

"Hey. Hey. Come here." I hugged him. "It's gonna be okay, buddy. You're gonna be allright. Your mom and me will protect you. We're gonna take care of you, don't worry."

I held my son.

"We'll get through this, little man. We'll get through it."

"Dinner." I set the plates on the counter and removed the sausages from the oven. Michelle put some food on a plate and sat down.

"Not too hungry?" she asked me.

"Forcing myself to eat," I admitted. "Paul's sick. COVID numbers are rising. I've spent my entire life learing how to survive and deal with emergencies.....But I never envisioned anything like this."

Her cell phone made a sound. She glanced at it. Today I'd been kind of glad I barely use mine----It had negated the urge to check it every fifteen seconds or so. Michelle picked her phone up and checked the message.

"It's negative," she said. "Paul doesn't have COVID."

I breathed. Suddenly, once again, I could breathe.

"You want to tell him?" she asked.

I nodded. We walked into the living room, where we found Paul and Rosie, curled up together and asleep on the couch.

I looked down at my son.

"Let's let him sleep for a while."

I walked through the book sale, looking things over. It was safe for me to come back. I rearranged a couple of science fiction books, grouping authors together. I was wearing my kraken shirt.

My cell phone rang. To some extent, that was a little surprising. I was still carrying it in my pocket, in case Paul needed anything.

It wasn't Paul. It was SaraLee. "Hey, pal."

"Hey, buddy. I wanted to talk to you....I need to cancel the investigation tomorrow. Family stuff."

"Oh. Okay," I said. "That's allright. I'll tell the team."

"You sure it's okay? I feel kind of bad...."

"Can't help these scheduling things. I'll stay home and play with the kid," I said. "Family stuff."

I spotted a thick book with a blue cover, and picked it up. The Complete Works Of Edgar Allan Poe.

I grinned. "Hey, Zach, I'll take this one."

The next night, when I walked into a haunted house, it was my own. 

First Rosie ran to greet me, and then Paul. I gave the kid a hug. "Hey, little man. My ghost hunt for tomorrow was cancelled, so I get to spend time with you. I'd rather do that anyway."

"Yay!"

"We can get Chinese food and eat in the park. Maybe you and me will go looking for ghosts, sound good?"

"Yeah! Did you bring me any books, Daddy?"

"I did. Here's one for kids about ghosts." I handed it to him, and he took it and left the kitchen. I turned to Tif, sitting at the table. 

"He doing okay today?" I asked.

"He's getting his energy back. He seems fine," said Tif. "How are you doing?"

I sat down. "I'm still kinda recovering. Scared to death. I am furious at the selfish assholes who put us in this position."

"Yeah, me too," said Tif. "I'm so sick of this."

"I could kill. At this point, we shouldn't have to deal with this. It's being dragged out by the stupid bastards who won't get the vaccine."

"I need something to take my mind off it," said Tif.

"Well. I have a book about Edgar Allan Poe."

"Cool. When are you reading it? I might want to borrow it for October, when I read all sorts of spooky stuff."

"You can have it then, sure. In the meantime, I got something for you to work on. Sometime this week, come on up early. You and me are gonna light up one of my expensive cigars and do some writing."

"What kind of writing?"

"I got some stationery with roses on it. We're gonna write down a Poe quote and a mysterious message, and mail it to the Eutaw House. We'll do this once a year, and create a new mystery. You're gonna be the new Poe Toaster."

Tif grinned. "I like it. I'm in."

"We'll let someone else figure it out. We're gonna take this haunted place, and make it into a new local mystery."

The Prius pulled into the Citgo station just before highway 322, and we got out. I looked across the street at the Eutaw House, still standing in Centre County.

"That's the place," I said. "That's where Poe was said to have stayed. The place he may still be haunting."

"Is it still a hotel?" Michelle asked.

"It doesn't seem to be," I said. "The sign says it's PennDOT headquarters now, which is scarier than a haunted hotel." I turned to Paul. "You want the thermometer or the K2 meter?"

"The thermometer."

I handed it to him. We held hands as we walked across the street. I said,"Get a baseline reading along the building. Stay on the side, watch for traffic."

"Sixty-two degrees," he reported.

I held up the K2 meter, which went straight to red. I said,"Check it out, Paul. This is topping out immediately. No wires, nothing that should be setting it off."
"It's haunted?" asked Paul.

"Could be," I said.

"I want to try that."

I traded the K2 meter for the thermometer, and then I snapped a couple of photos. This was going to make a great article. I walked along the side of the road, checking out the haunted hotel with my little boy.

I finished my Chinese food, sitting in Riverview Park. Nearby, Paul was running around on the playground with some other kids. I watched for a while.

He was looking pretty good. He'd gotten his energy back, and was up and around. With each passing day, I was feeling better about his health.

I dug into my backpack, pulling out my K2 meter and my laser thermometer. I slipped them into my pockets, and then pulled on my jacket with all the buttons and badges. I walked to where Paul was playing on the climbing stuff.

"Hey, kiddo. There used to be a haunted hotel right over there."

"Oh, yeah, I remember."

"It was torn down decades ago. They say a lumberman got murdered on the stairs, and there was always a blood spot there. I'm going to go check it out. If you need me, I'll be right over there, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy."

I watched him play for a moment, then turned and walked across the park. My son was okay. I was doing better than I'd been. I was still afraid and angry. I was just going to have to find ways around that.

I pulled out the K2 meter and hit the button. It lit up as I walked, sweeping it side to side.

With the leaves falling around me, I walked through the park.

From childhood's hour, I have not been

As others were---I have not seen

As others saw----I could not bring 

My passions from a common spring.