An Apple A Day

"I hope there's Albatwitch T-shirts at this thing," I said. "I'm definitely getting a T-shirt."

"Me, too," said Paul from the back of the car.

"I'm sure there will be T-shirts," said Michelle. "Which way do I go?"

"Stay on 441. And then turn right into the Columbia River Park. That'll get us to the Albatwitch Festival."

"I want to see an Albatwitch," Paul said, trying to bring up a photo of one on his tablet.

"The Albatwitch is like a mini-Bigfoot," I said. "They stay smaller than you. And they like to steal apples from nearby orchards. They're often spotted in the forest near the festival."

Michelle turned, and we pulled into the festival, which was much bigger and busier than I thought it was going to be. We drove down the path to the parking area, which was beside the forest.

I climbed out of the car. 

"Okay, kid," I said. "You want to help me bait an Albatwitch?"

"Yeah," said Paul. "What are we going to do?"

I opened the trunk. "I brought apples," I said. "Normally with cryptids, you don't know exactly what to use as bait, and you have to make a few guesses. With an Albatwitch, though, we already know they like apples. This gives us a good opportunity."

Hand in hand, we walked together into the forest until we found a muddy spot by the path. I set the apple down, and said,"Okay. We're gonna come back later and see if anything disturbed the apple, and maybe left us some prints. For now, let's leave this here and get to the festival."

I sat at the small table, a couple of stacks of my books in front of me. I'd had fifty of each printed up for the occasion, and had figured I could recoup the money by selling a dozen copies. The day before leaving, I'd discovered that our outdoor table was not going to fit in the Prius, so I'd grabbed my son's My Little Pony table and a blanket to cover it with. 

Paul got back, and sat next to me. "I'm back," he declared.

"Where's your mother?"

"She went to get hot dogs. She's coming."

"Long as you didn't wander off."

"Have you sold any books yet?"
"I have not."

"When is your speech?"

"In about an hour."

Michelle arrived back, and tossed us each a T-shirt. "I got you guys shirts," she said.

I looked at mine; it had the official Albatwitch symbol on it. "Hey, cool! Thanks!"

"After this, we can check in at the AirBnB and get something to eat," Michelle said.

I nodded. "And tomorrow, little man, we're going to take you to an ice cream museum."

"An ice cream museum?" Paul said, delighted.

"Yeah. Turkey Hill ice cream is made around here. They have a kid-friendly museum that we're going to before we head home."

"Any sales yet?" Michelle asked.

I looked at the two boxes of books still waiting underneath the table. "Well, it looks like I'll have plenty of Christmas presents for everyone," I said.

"I'm still hungry," said Paul.

"Come on," said Michelle. "I'll buy you another hot dog."

They walked off, and I went back to not selling any books. I was trying not to get too discouraged.

A young guy with a beard was near me on the sidewalk. "I gotta ask," I said. "Where'd you get the Squonk sweatshirt?"

He grinned. "Got it on Etsy," he said. "You know the Squonk?"

"Oh, yeah, my son wants to find one and cheer it up."
"Yeah, everyone wants to nurture a Squonk. I'm surprised so many people here know the Squonk."

"It's not one of the best-known cryptids, but in this crowd, there's gonna be some people who recognize it."

"True. Where'd you get your shirt?"

I  was wearing my black LHPS uniform. "It's custom made, but I get a lot of them on Amazon."
"LHPS."
"Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers," I said. "Up in Clinton and neighboring counties."

"Cool," he said. "I just joined Harrisburg Area Paranormal."

"Heard good things."

"Yeah, I was real picky about what team I wanted to join. I didn't want to get with a bunch of flakes, you know? I wanted someone who doesn't let their imagination run away with them."

I nodded. "Respect." I held out my hand. "Lou."
"Nick." We shook hands.

"Hey." I held out one of my books---Investigating the Paranormal. "On me. I like to encourage people who are doing it right."
"Man, I couldn't. Let me pay you. I can see you're collecting for someone with cancer...."

"My neighbor, Ellie."
"Let me make a donation."

"Okay. Fair enough." Closest thing I'd had to a sale all day. "I'm giving a talk in about twenty minutes in the building if you'd like to attend."

"I'll be there. Thanks."

As Nick walked off, Michelle and Paul got back. I looked up and saw someone in an Albatwitch costume walking past. I stared for a moment, delighted.
I looked at the Albatwitch.

The Albatwitch looked at me.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore.....

I've forgotten what I'd started from before....

I said,"Mister Albawitch! Time for a picture?"

"I'm actually a female Albatwitch," said a female voice from inside the mask.

"Oh, Sorry. Hard to tell with the fur...."

"Oh, sure."

I thrust my camera at Michelle. "I gotta get a picture."

We stood together, and Michelle took our photo. At least I could say I'd seen an Albatwitch.

....Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.

"....And the Giwoggle is the official monster of Clinton County. It was described as a sort of hybrid werewolf, with the hands of a bird and the feet of a horse. You can get Giwoggle t-shirts these days if you know where to look. For those of you who are pulling out your phones to Google it right now, that's G-I-W-O-G-G-L-E."

I saw several people try that. I was standing with a microphone in the River Trails Center, giving my talk. I had a good crowd, about fifty people.

And I was comfortable. This was my thing. I'm not a salesman, I can't sell my own books. But talking about Clinton County's paranormal activity....That, I can do.

"The Giwoggle, the Susquehanna Seal, the Potter Nondescript....They're some of our local cryptids, a lot of what make the Pennsylvania Wilds great. Any questions?" I looked around at the room. Nothing. "Wow. Easy crowd. Well, I have a few of my books over there, if anyone is interested. Thanks so much for having me!"

A round of applause. I walked over to the table, where I had the boxes of books. A small crowd gathered around, looking them over. One guy handed me a twenty. "I want one of each," he said.

"Thank you!"

A couple of other people bought a book. Apparently all I'd needed was to stand up and do my own commercial. One woman asked,"Will you autograph this for me?"

"Oh, sure, though that always feels weird." I signed the book. I've had regular newspaper columns since 2008, and I've never really gotten used to that.

"Why is it weird? You're the author."

"Yeah, but me signing autographs. I mean, seriously. Who the hell am I?"

The AirBnb was a small cottage in a quiet, residential neighborhood. Paul was raving through the thing---He loves travel spots. He will explore any hotel room almost immediately. He'd discovered a small office space in the back of the building, and was using the desk to go through some of the extra amenities.

"There's a small cemetery up the road, little man," I said. "You want to go explore it with me?"
"Nah, I'm busy," said Paul. "Have fun."

I left the cottage and walked up the road a bit. Only a few houses down was the cemetery, which was much smaller than I'd expected it to be. I mean, a lot smaller. I was looking at the graves of four soldiers, plus one monument. And surrounding it was a parking lot. I explored the entire thing in ten seconds.

I clicked a few photos, and then took a closer look at the monument. It had a long list of names on it, and was labeled as the Mennonite Evangelical Cemetery. It was not quite clear, but seemed to imply that these people had been buried there in the late 1800s, and were still there, though the cemetery had been gone since 1971. Something I'd have to look into later.

The sun was going down. I smiled and pulled out the EMF detector. There was no way this place wasn't haunted.

After breakfast the next morning, we went to check on the apple.

Paul and I walked into the woods, and with some searching, we found the spot where we'd placed the apple the day before. It was still there, and hadn't been touched.

"No Albatwitch," I said. "Not this time, anyway."

Paul picked up the apple. "Can I throw it?"

"Sure, no reason why not."

He drew back and winged it down into the trees. I said,"Maybe something will eat it down there."

We walked back to the car.

"Anything?" Michelle asked as we got in.

I shook my head. "Nothing took the apple."

"Well, there were about a million people here yesterday," she said. "Probably kept it away."
"That's true," I said with some surprise. "Can't expect cryptids to show up around huge crowds. I'm gonna have to come back at a quieter time."

We started driving down the path.

"Next stop," said Paul,"The ice cream museum!"