Four Calling Thunderbirds: The 2023 Christmas Special

Outside on Bellefonte Avenue, the streetlights were all decorated for Christmas. I could see it all from where I sat inside the coffee shop. I was sitting with Chris and his wife at the same table we always sat at, as if we were sitcom characters.

"Merry Christmas," I said to Chris. "I got you something."

I slid the small package across the table. He slid a pen out, and said,"Hey, pretty cool!"

"It's a multitool pen," I said. "This thing has a level, two rulers, and two screwdrivers in it. I take them on a lot of ghost hunts."

"I can work on the house with this!" he said. "Got you something, too."

I took a sip of coffee as he handed me a package. Wrapped in my column. I unwrapped it, and smiled.

"Henry Shoemaker's Black Forest Souvenirs! Thanks, man!" I paged through. "Cursed woods, healing springs....I think this book contains my next big mistake!"

Chris's wife, Kate, grinned. "He knew you'd like that."

"He was right. It's been a little slow lately; I can use something to keep me busy. I want the Minnesota Iceman for Christmas. I'm a size ten in UFO sightings."

It was raining when I took the kids down to the bus stop. Paul and I walked down with the neighbor kids, his little friends, whom I'd organized into a little group we called the Ghost Gang. It was the usual; insane kids running around, screaming at each other until the bus arrived. Nobody on Jones Street sets an alarm in the morning.

I was whistling and didn't realize it until Love looked up at me and asked,"Are you whistling?"

"Oh. Yeah. Didn't really notice. Christmas songs, you know?" I sang softly,"Oh, I....don't want a lot for Christmas...."

"Hey!" said Serina. "I know this one!"

I grinned at her, and she started singing, too. "....There is just one thing I need...."

Love smiled, and then joined in, and Sekiyah and Paul started, too. It was beginning to flurry.

I don't want a lot for Christmas,

There is just one thing I need....

And I don't care about the presents

Underneath the Christmas tree....

I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know....

Make my wish come true....

Baby, all I want for Christmas

Is you.

The kids started dancing on the sidewalk, and we all sang together. Good times with the kids.

I don't want a lot for Christmas,

There is just one thing I need...

And I don't care about the presents

Underneath the Christmas tree

I don't need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace,

Santa Claus won't make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day....

I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know....

Make my wish come true....

All I want for Christmas

Is you.

I took a shower and threw on my Loch Ness Monster sweatshirt, sat down and wrote an article based on the book Chris had given me. I ordered some Christmas gifts for the family---A rolling pin for Michelle, a shirt for Tif with a pattern composed of words from her favorite book, and a Julius Caesar pencil holder for Biz. It had seven holes in the back to stick pencils, and it screamed Biz. I got Paul just about everything Amazon sells, which was what he'd asked for. Then I checked my e-mail.

An e-mail had come in on my PA Wilds address from one of my editors, Britt. In response to one of my articles, a witness to a thunderbird sighting had come forward. He'd provided a detailed description of the cryptid and the location, which I was familiar with.

It had gotten considerably colder by that afternoon, when I went to get the kids from the bus stop, I said,"Hey, guys, you'll like this. I got a thunderbird sighting this morning."

"What's a thunderbird?" asked Serina.

"Big giant bird, the size of a car," said Paul.

"That's right," I said.

"Can I see it?" Sekiyah asked.

"What? No, I....I don't have the actual bird. It was just a report from someone who saw one. It was an e-mail."

"Where?" asked Paul.

"Up in Cameron County. You've been there; we stopped by after investigating those vampires and South Bay Bessie a few years ago. I'm going to have to investigate this one. Last year, it was a Wendigo. This year, a thunderbird."

"Can I come?" asked Sekiyah.

"I'll see what I can do."

I was wearing my X-Mas alien shirt, and Millie had a bright red sweater. We all had some sort of festive outfit on as we sat around the table at our LHPS meeting: Me, Millie, Heather, Ashlin, Tami, and the new kid, Tami's kid, Juno.

"Well, first off, congratulations to Tami for winning her race for city council," I said. "This is the first time a paranormal investigator has been on city council. Does this make LHPS a government agency?"

"God, no," said Tami. "I have way too many of those already."

I laughed. "Tami, you said you're having some activity at your place?"
"Yeah, we've had things happening."

"Good. We need to train new people anyway. I propose that our next meeting be at your house, and we do an investigation. We'll train the new members, and keep ourselves busy."

"That works for me."

"Anyone want a glass of wine?" Millie asked. "I have some in the kitchen."
"Sure, I'll have a glass," I said.

Millie came back from the kitchen with the bottle. "I need you to help me get it open."

I popped the top off the wine, and she poured it. I took a sip. "Yeah, that's good. Now, we have our gift exchange!"

We'd started the gift exchange in our first year, sixteen years ago. At the time, the field leader had tried doing that stealing and swapping thing that people do for some reason, but everyone had always been satisfied with their gifts and never wanted to swap. So by the time I'd wound up as the leader, everyone just enjoyed what they'd gotten.

Juno got my present, a Lock Haven drink coaster. I ended up with Millie's, a sort of wand-shaped electronic lighter. I turned it over, and said,"Oh, Paul's going to love this. He likes burning things. We'll take this camping."

"I thought you might like that," said Millie.

"I got everyone something," I said, and handed them out. "Little multitools." Each one was a flat, wallet-sized piece. "There are about eleven different tools on these."

Heather looked hers over. "Nice."

"I mean, how many times have we been on an investigation and needed some sort of tool? I have one of these inserted in all my tac vests."

"You have more than one of those vests?" asked Tami.

Heather handed me a bag. "I got you something. Had to get it for you."

I pulled out a stuffed, knitted Bigfoot. I smiled. "I love it!"

"A friend of mine makes those. I thought it was perfect for you."

"You thought right," I said. "Looks like I do get to find a cryptid this holiday, after all."

At work, I had programs to plan and books to process. So I decided to say fuck it and  go investigate a cryptid instead.

I walked to the lobby and picked up one of the local maps from the tourist rack. Back at my desk, I did an online search for thunderbird sightings. One of my own articles was the first one that came up. It's interesting when that happens, but tells me nothing new. I marked the Cameron County sighting, then one I'd checked out a couple of years ago on the north side of the Susquehanna. There was one before that in Swissdale that Chris and I had investigated when we'd first met.

The Boss walked past my desk. "What are you working on?" she asked.

"Charting out our historic service distribution by township."

"Carry on."

I got a highlighter and made an orange mark on each sighting. There were some up around Kettle Creek, always the trendsetter in this regard. One in Jersey Shore, next county over. I ended up with a string of orange dots across my map.

"Hunh," I said.

I walked to the PA Room and grabbed Amazing Indeed by Robert Lyman. I knew it had a chapter on thunderbirds; there was even one depicted on the cover. I read through it and found a mention of the Native Americans reporting thunderbirds attacking whales for food.

Surprisingly, that actually checked out. Lyman described the area that thunderbirds were most seen in, and it was clustered in a comparatively tight area of north central Pennsylvania. 

With Lock Haven basically in the middle.

It was late. Paul and I were in the kitchen. Michelle had brought home two free hams from her company, and we had an extra from the local grocery store's points program. We also had a new oven with a "dehydrate" feature. I'd figured out that we could probably make ham jerky, but I'd found remarkably little instruction on how to actually accomplish this. So I was kind of winging it. Meanwhile Rosie and Butters sat on the floor, hoping for some of the ham to fall. Merry Christmas.

"I've been working on the thunderbird thing," I told Paul. "Called in my friend Kevin to do a little digging, too. You know what I found out?"

"What?"
"All of the sightings took place very near water---The Susquehanna River or its tributaries. So what does this tell us?"

"Thunderbirds need water."

"And what else?"
Paul thought it over for a moment. "Food!" he said.

"Right, food. And I found a mention in an old book about thunderbirds attacking whales, which makes sense---They'd eat fish from the river. So maybe if we wanted to see one, we'd have to go where there's fish."

"Maybe this summer!"

"Yeah, we can go looking for thunderbirds this summer. My witness sent me some pictures he created of the bird he saw, and it looks remarkably like an extinct bird called a teratorn. You never know---Maybe this summer, we can catch an ancient bird."

"Cool!" said Paul.

I laid out the ham strips on the tray, and looked them over. Then I slid them in the oven.

"Okay, let's see how long this takes. Hey. Got you something. This isn't exactly a Christmas present, so I guess you can have it early."

I handed him a package. He opened it and pulled out a sweatshirt---Black, with his name and the Ghost Hang logo on it. He smiled.

"Just like I wanted! Thanks, Dad!"

"Merry Christmas, little man."

Hello, Barkness, My Old Friend

It was seven-fifteen in the morning when I found Serina's mom next door outside with the new puppy. As the puppy bounced around in the grass, she said to me,"I got your message, I just didn't get a chance to respond yet. That's fine."

"Great," I said. I turned to Paul, who was coming out the front door. "Hey, kiddo, guess what? Serina gets to go to Grandpa's farm with us this weekend."

"Yay!" As Serina came out of her house, Paul said,"Serina! You can go!"
"Yay!"

"You're gonna love my Grandpa's farm," Paul explained to her. "There's a beagle named Miles, and chickens, and trees, and a pond."
"Bigfoot and ghosts," I added.

"Really?" Serina asked.

"There have been sightings."

"Well. I have to bring my stuff."

"Look, up on that hill," I said. "That's the Marshall House." I pointed to a big house on the hill above Palmerton. "It's haunted; some of my friends and I went up and explored there back in the eighties."

"Cool! Are we almost there?" Serina asked.

"Almost. You'll like the farm," I said to Serina. She was sitting in the back of the Jeep with Paul, watching their electronics. "There's dogs and chickens, and plenty of places to run around and explore."

"We can walk around unsupervised?" Serina asked me, somewhat incredulously.

"I don't see why not. If there's any place that's safe, it's Dad's farm. It didn't kill me as a kid, and I was actively trying."
"I want to show you Miles," said Paul. "He's a beagle that's as old as I am."

"Then he's as old as I am, too," said Serina. She was curled up under Paul's blanket. "This blanket smells like dogs."

"Everything we own smells like dogs."

"I love that." Serina took a deep breath of the blanket. "I didn't used to like the smell of dogs, but then we got Luna. Now I love that smell."

"It's very comforting to me, too," I said. "I used to go outside when I was little, and sleep in the doghouse. The whole thing smelled like our dog, and I always thought it was really nice. To this day, that's a very relaxing smell for me."

"Was that Miles?"

"No, Miles is much younger than that," I said. "I had a beagle named Hambone. He saved my life once."

"I thought a dog saved Paul's life."

"Different dog. That was Duke. Hambone was forty years earlier. He killed a snake that was going to bite me. He and I used to go down to a pear tree in the meadow, and I'd climb up and get pears for us to eat."

"I want to see the Hundred Steps!" Serina said as we drove through Slatington. 

"We're almost there," I promised. "The Hundred Steps used to lead up to a factory, but it was torn down. Now they just lead from one street to another street. And if you count them, it never comes out the same way twice. They say if you actually count a hundred, you disappear."
"Really?"
"Don't worry. I've only ever known it to happen once."

She turned to Paul. "Did you know about this?"

Paul nodded calmly. "I've done this before."

Michelle pulled into a lot, and we climbed out of the car. I said,"Guys. The steps are this way."

We walked to the top of a tall stone staircase that stretched for lierally a block down below. We began to walk downward, quietly counting each step. It took about a minute, and when we congregated down below, Serina glanced at me. I said,"Ninety-two."

"A hundred and fourteen," Paul said.

Serina grinned. "I got a hundred and six."

My brother was doing his thing, running the farm, when we got there. I got out of the vehicle, and the memories all came flooding back to me, as they always do. The farm where I'd spent the first third of my life. There were plenty of paths through the woods, but the path of my life had been set there. I walked to Jon and gave him a hug. He hugged Paul, and I said,"This is Serina. We adopted another one."

Serina grinned. "He's kidding. I'm actually their neighbor."

"Dad's down at the house, with Megan," said Jon. "Cousin Megan came for the weekend."

"Oh, that's great," I said. "I haven't seen Megan in at least twenty years."

"Come on," said Paul. "I want to introduce you to Miles!"

"You two have fun," I said. "You guys are the Ghost Gang now. When I was a kid, I had my cousins in a group we called the Ghost Gang, and we investigated this property. Looks like this is the first time the current Ghost Gang comes to the same place from almost fifty years ago."

"Is this place haunted?" Serina asked.

"Well, it goes back to 1836, and plenty of people have died here. For that matter, my mother died here twenty years ago."

As we walked across the yard, I stopped and pointed out a bush that ran about eight feet high. "Paul, did I ever show you this? This is what I called my tree house when I was little." I crouched down and moved through a small open space in the front. "Come on in."

Serina squinted at it. "We can get in there?"

"Come on and see."

Paul and Serina crept inside, and their eyes widened. It didn't look like it from the outside, but the entire bush was hollow, with nothing but branches on the inside. It made an open space the size of a very small room, and I sat down on one of the branches. "I used to spend hours in here when I was little. Nobody can see you from the outside. Those high branches, I called my attic."
"I want to climb up there!" said Paul.

I've always found little hiding spots, ever since I was a kid. Just about everywhere I've ever been, I've crafted little hideouts for myself. I have at least three at home, three or four at the library, and one in the shelter.

We walked down to the house. I grew up in an old brick farmhouse built in 1836. Paul had always struggled a bit with the back door, which had a weird sort of knob probably also from 1836. He tried it for a moment before he got it, and we walked into the kitchen.

Miles, a funny little beagle, ran up to us. Miles is very friendly; his sister Peggy is very shy. She immediately ran up the stairs and out of the danger of getting any attention. I gave my Dad and cousin Megan a hug.

"How have you been?" I asked Megan. "What have you been up to?"

She shrugged. "Oh, you know. Existing."

"I do that sometimes myself."

"You have not changed at all."

"I'm starting to get a little gray." I handed a magazine to Dad. "Brought you a copy of this one. It's my latest; it has two articles in by me. My editor asked for a piece on Pennsylvania cryptids."

"My sister Amy lives up near Vermont now," said Megan. "There's all these Bigfoot sightings. Her kids get all excited about the possibility of seeing Bigfoot. I've told them you're not supposed to be excited about seeing Bigfoot."

"We get excited about seeing Bigfoot," I said. "Sometimes when we're camping, Paul and I will break out the equipment and go check."

Megan asked my dad,"Does Miles need to go out?"
"Probably. You can take him outside and let him run a bit."

"Okay."

"So, getting a tree this year?" Dad asked.

"Thought I'd bring back two," I said. "One for the house, and one for the shelter. I gave them a free tree last year, and the staff loved it."

"Try down below, in the Frazier field," said Dad. "We have a few good ones down there."

I turned to the kids. "You guys ready to go pick a tree?"

Choosing the tree is the fun part. Cutting it down and then dragging it to the barn is the lesser part of that deal. The kids watched as Jon's assistant Scott used the machines to shake, drill, and bale the trees. Serina was rather fascinated with the whole thing.

"You know what?" I said, as the baler tied the tree tightly. "When I was young, we'd sometimes stick the littlest kid through that thing and tie him up."

"Nuh-uh!"
"Oh, yes. We really did."

"Then what would happen?"

"Usually we'd go in for lunch and let him work his way loose."

"What's that over there?"

"That's the root cellar, but I think the door's stuck shut these days. It's like an underground cave."

"I wish I could see it!"

"You want to see a cave? I have something to show you; it's very cave-like. Come on."

I led the kids down to the springhouse, and took them down the hill and into the basement. I said,"This is under the springhouse. The spring comes up there and runs through here." The whole thing was dark and rocky, with stones all over the ground. Paul and Serina looked around, impressed.

"You used to hang out down here, too?" Serina asked.

"Sometimes."

"That explains a lot about you." Serina looked around. "I am really having a fun time today."

As we emerged back out into the daylight, Paul said."Serina, you want another cup of hot chocolate? I can use one."

"Sure!"

"Let's go back up to the barn!"

As they ran back to the barn, I followed them up. I found Jon, his wife Amy, and Scott behind the counter. Scott asked,"Jon, should I smoke the alcohol now?"

"If you like."

"You are smoking alcohol now?" I asked. "Two bad habits in one?"

Scott pulled out a big jar of some amber-colored liquid. He said,"Want to try some?"

"Yeah. What is it?" I may have reversed the proper order of those statements.

"Jack Daniels honey flavor."

I took a sip. It was very smooth stuff. I said,"I like that."

He pulled out a black jar cap shaped like a skull. So far, I approved. He put it on the jar, filled it with some sort of wood chips, and started burning them with a miniature torch. He said,"This infuses the liquid with a smoke flavor, and makes it even better."

I watched as he burned up the wood chips. The smoke was drawn down into the jar, and slowly dissipated. At the nearby table, the kids were discovering what happened when they mixed peppermint chips into their hot chocolate.

Once the smoke was gone, he offered me the jar. I took another sip, and I could taste the smoky flavor that had been added to the whiskey.

"That is really good," I said. "Like having a drink and a cigar at the same time."

I went to the car and dug my EMF detector out of my pack. It was my all-in-one, and I wanted to check around a bit. I was wearing my sweatshirt with a ghost drinking coffee, and my puffy vest with a yeti badge on it. Not ideal for every investigation, but perfect for this particular one.

Watching the EMF detector, I walked down across the yard. I'd had a few experiences here before, and Dad had claimed to have had a couple. It never hurt to check.

I walked around the back of the house, near the barn. As I approached the barn, I got a flicker. I stopped, and turned. Just a little reading, not too much.

And then I realized where I was standing.

"Hambone?"

I was about at the spot where my dog had been buried, forty-five years ago.

"Is that you, boy?" I said softly. "How are you? It's been a long time, and I still miss you."

I turned off the EMF detector and slipped it into my pocket.

"Want to go down to the pear tree?"

I walked down the path to the meadow, to the spot where the old pear tree stood. I knelt down on the ground.

"I miss you, Hambone. You saved my life back then....I have a fund in your name at the shelter, did you know? I've done a lot since you knew me. And all the things I've accomplished, all the stuff I've done....It's all because you were such a good dog."

I had tears in my eyes. A moment later, I felt something at my elbow, and I looked down. Miles, coming to get a hug.

It was late that night. Paul was sitting on the couch, and we'd managed to get the tree into the stand in the living room. It was too big for the room, and I'd shoved it in so that it bent against the ceiling.

"I kind of like it like that," said Paul.

"Yeah, it sort of amuses me. I'll talk your mother into leaving it that way, which will be easy since she doesn't use the saw."

"Can I have hot chocolate?"

"Sure," I said. "You want it in my Bigfoot mug?"

"I want the Christmas tree farm mug," said Paul. "The one from Uncle Jon's farm."

I smiled. "Okay."

"I had a good time today," he said.

"Me, too."

Home Is Where The Haunt Is

I found Paul sitting alone in the rental car.

I climbed in. He was watching his tablet as he sat in the car on the driveway. I sat in the front seat, and turned to face him.

"How you doing?" I asked.

"Good." Paul was fine. He just likes rental cars, the same way he's always liked hotel rooms.

"I had a thought," I said. "You know your mom's gonna be away on a business trip Monday to Thursday. Gonna be just you and me at the house. First off, let me know what you want for dinner and I'll make it. Whatever you like."
"I'm going out with Sissy on Monday."

"Wednesday, then."
"Okay."

"Second. did you know we've lived in this house for twenty years this month? Your mom and I moved in here twenty years ago. I figure, I'll let you stay up late a bit, and you and me will do some ghost hunting. It's been a while. How about that?"

"Yeah," Paul said.

"Sounds good."

We'd first moved into the house in the Hill Section in October of 2003. Michelle and I had been married for just over a year, and my mother had died the previous May. We'd looked at a few houses within our price range, most of which invariably fell into the category of "Better than homelessness, probably."

The house, a smaller one with a nice view of the neighborhood, had appealed to us. I'd liked the basement, which I'd planned to use as a secret headquarters until I realized that it flooded and I'd moved operations to the second floor. 

We'd begun hearing unexplainable sounds and having experiences almost immediately. I'd dug into the history of the house, and gotten back as far as 1905 when I'd found Ida Yost.

Ida was seventeen. Her mother had died, and she'd been abused by her father. On August 19, 1905, Ida had committed suicide on what is now my back porch.

We'd heard footsteps in the hallway and on the stairs. Things move around. Sometimes at night, with everyone else in bed, I'd heard Ida walking around in the room with me.

You get used to it.

"After dinner, Daddy, do you want to hunt for some ghosts?" Paul asked. 

"Sure." We were sort of foraging for dinner, which Paul tends to do anyway. I was eating a leftover hot dog from the weekend, and Paul was making himself a bagel. We were wearing our matching Bigfoot Patrol shirts, which were as good as anything else to hang around the house in.

"Can I stay up late with you?" Paul asked.

"Not too late, because you have school tomorrow. But I'll let you stay up until ten."

"Ten-fifteen?"

"Okay. Ten-fifteen."

I went upstairs to my office. I didn't need the entire tactical vest; I was just hanging around my own house. I got out my laser thermometer and my EMF detector, and then grabbed Paul's, too. I squeezed the trigger on the thermometer, and it flickered to life and went out again immediately. The exciting life of a ghost hunter.

I walked downstairs. "Think I need a battery replacement in my thermometer," I said. "I think your EMF detector is acting up, too. Might need to get a nine-volt to replace it."

I replaced the batteries, and we checked around a bit. I said,"Baseline about seventy degrees. No outstanding EMFs. Anything on your end?"

Paul shook his head. "Nope." He picked up the 9-volt battery. "Can't you start a fire with this and lint?"

"Steel wool. Lint burns quick, but you need the steel wool to make a spark."

"Can we do that?"'

"If we have steel wool."

I found some in the cabinet and pulled it out. "Let's do this in the sink, so we don't burn something."

Paul touched the steel wool to the battery terminals, and it sprung into sparks immediately. It's always nice when he remember these survival techniques I taught him. I said,"You have homework?"

"I left my folder at school."

"Okay. Tomorrow, then." How much math can the kid need? He can already negotiate fifteen more minutes of bedtime.

I walked through the house with my EMF detector. I got a small flicker in the TV room, which is not unusual. I called,"Got a little bit of a spike in the TV room. Went to orange."

"Could be Ida," said Paul.

"Could be. She does act up in there sometimes, especially when I have Charlie's Angels on."

First thing in the morning. Paul and I waited outside the house next door, with Butters on a leash. We'd been waiting for five minutes when the little girls next door came outside.

"You brought Butters!" said little Sekiya, delighted.

"He likes to go to the bus stop and see all the kids," I said.

We walked down the street. I said,"You'll like this, Serina. This morning, I have to go over to a house to arrange for moving some gravestones. You know how there used to be a cemetery down the street, and they moved it in 1919? Some stones have turned up in someone's yard, and we're arranging to move them to Highland Cemetery."

"This morning?" Paul asked.

"Ten-thirty."

"And I'll be in school?!?"
"I'll bring photos to show you," I said. "I promise."

I reached down and overturned the stone, embedded in the ground. Carefully, I laid it down as Justin and Dave watched. It was the gravestone of Clarissa Mahan, sister-in-law to our town founder.

"Clarissa," I said.

Justin was the head of the Genealogical Society, and Dave managed Highland Cemetery. Justin said,"We can have these moved up to Highland and placed there, where they belong."

"Probably moved up in the spring," said Dave. "We can keep them there, but right now Highland has no money."

"That's okay, we can put them in the ground for free. CCGS can contribute a bit toward repair."

"These things have been here, undiscovered, for over a century," I said. "Now we're going to put them in Highland. I want to break this story."

"You can have the front page," said Justin.

Dave got out his dowsing rods and started testing them, looking for other gravestones. I'm not a fan of dowsing and he knows it; we'd had some of those discussions over a few beers. It's a little like being friends with SaraLee; you can see where the science ends and the wild stuff begins. You learn to not comment on it.

I stood up. "Justin, I've heard some rumors that Great Island Cemetery extended further back than what we'd thought, maybe even over toward Maple Street. You ever come across anything like that?"

"It's possible, but I never heard anything. Have you checked the 1869 map?"

"Yeah, but there's a lot of empty space nearby. The 1869 map has north pointing in the wrong direction; I'm not sure it's as accurate as you think. Besides, I suspect there was some unofficial interring outside the gates....You know John Michael Conley?"

Justin grinned. "Criminal buried somewhere in Great Island. Headless guy."

"Not at first. but yeah. His skull was stolen. He was never found when they moved the cemetery. Hell, maybe he's here."

Justin grinned. "He wouldn't be alone."

I grinned back. "You know the Woman in White and the Woman in Black?"

"Yep. This same cemetery. People saw the two ghosts walking around."

"A while back, I figured out who those might be. There were two female bodies here that were petrified. Both were moved to Flemington. It stands to reason that they were the two female ghosts; their names were Madeline Yost and Catherine Phillips."

"Are there more gravestones?" Dave asked the dowsing rods, and they swung apart, pointing widely to his right and left. I watched him with my arms crossed. 

He glanced in my direction. "Where's Lou?" he asked.

Both of them swung immediately to point at me.

I grinned. 

"Well, I'll be damned."

Paul and Serina caught me in my office. "You ready to go out, Daddy?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, buddy, I'm good." I was sitting in my chair, working on the tac vest.

"What're you doing?"
"I'm making a couple of adjustments to the vest; making it a bit easier to use."
Serina squinted at it. "This pocket---" She pointed to the first aid pouch. "---Was on the back before."

Serina's pretty perceptive when it comes to my ghost-hunting stuff. "Yeah, I removed a panel of pouches on the front right side. Moved first aid from the belt up to where I can reach it better; safety first. I'm adding the comlink pouch and a storage pouch, too, for now."

"Looks good," said Paul.

"Hoping for an investigation sometime soon, try it out," I said. "Let's go out."

We were in the vehicle, eating Taco Bell. My wife was driving, with Paul and Serina in the back seat. I said,"Once we're done with our food, you guys want to take a ride up to Highland Cemetery?"
"Sure," said Paul.

"Yeah!" said Serina.

"I  want to take a look, see if Dave managed to stake out the area we're moving the stones to yet."

Paul turned to Serina. "Ida's grave is in Highland."

"Ida? I want to see."

A few minutes later, Michelle turned the jeep into Highland Cemetery and pulled up the road. Paul pointed. "Isn't Ida up there under that tree?"

"That's right," I said. "That's her family plot."

"Is this where you want to stop?" Michelle asked.

"Yeah. Just for a minute."
Ida's grave is under a tall tree on a steep slope, at the lower part of the cemetery. We walked up the concrete stairs and up to it, the small stone with her name and the dates on it.

"So here's Ida," said Serina.

I nodded.

"Here's Ida."

I was flipping through the cemetery indexes when Tif rolled into the library. I said,"Oh, hi, honey. Just so you know, we're having rat loaf for our family dinner tomorrow."
"Rat loaf?"

"Yeah. It's like meat loaf, but rattier." 

I flipped open a haunted cookbook and showed her the photo of meat loaf in the shape of a rat. She said,"Can't wait. Anything new on the job?"

"Nothing yet. Radio silence. They're taking forever to get around to announcing. I been keeping myself busy," I said. "I'm working on Great Island Cemetery."

"Don't you already know everything about Great Island Cemetery?"

"I only talk like I do. I was looking into the Great Island ghosts---One of them is named Lena Yost. Look, she was moved to Flemington according to the Great Island records. She was only sixteen; her parents died later and were buried in Highland. It looks like she was moved there; she's on the Highland listing. Now, I have reason to think she's one of the ghosts, the woman in white, or in black, I'm not sure of the color."

"Okay."

"I was curious; I decided to check on the last name. I looked at Ida's genealogy book. Turns out, Madeline and Ida were distant cousins. One of the Great Island ghosts is related to the ghost in my house."

I stood with Justin on the hill, watching as the guy unloaded the gravestones. He said,"We'll call Dave, make sure these are where they're supposed to be. We can readjust them in the spring, but for now, we'll have them up here where they belong."
I had my "Paranormal Investigator" shirt on, and my cold-weather vest. It was thirty-eight degrees out. I said,"I'll write it up for the Express."
'We've made history today," he said.

I nodded. "The stones are where they belong. And maybe, once I get my article in, we'll hear from other people who've found their own stones. Maybe one day, we'll be able to collect up all of the old Great Island Cemetery."

At night, before bed, I always take the dogs out. With Butters on his leash, I walked outside in the cold, standing on the dark sidewalk  by the "Tami For City Council" sign.

Twenty years. Over a third of my life, I'd lived on this street. I looked down toward Bellefonte Avenue and thought about all the other people who'd lived here, over the years. Rebecca Gross. William Elliott. Roy Probst. Isadore Lipez. All part of Lock Haven's history.

All of them.

And me.

Lights Out

Knock knock.

I tapped on the door. "Hannah? It's Lou. Came to check your office for secret passages."
"Oh, sure. Come on in."

I entered the small office on the top floor of the charity I help with. One of the staffers, Hannah, was sitting at her desk. I said,"A while ago I noticed that your office has some unexplained space when you look at it from the outside, so I thought I'd come take a look."

"Well, when you're done, Julie said she wanted to see you," she said. "A secret panel would be cool. Didn't you just look into some UFOs? Unexplained blue lights in the sky?"

"Goddamn gender reveal party," I said.

I checked around. Crawling on the floor, I tapped on the wall. On the eastern end of the office, I stopped. "This is hollow. There's a space back there, but it's plastered over."

She grinned. "That's so cool."

"I've found a few spots like that in the library, looking around," I said. "Discovered a hidden space in the attic after we got back from COVID."

"Figured you'd come in today and check?" Hannah asked.

I shrugged. "Well, you know. Paul's in school, so I got some free time."

Julie was downstairs in her office. At first, when I'd begun helping out at the shelter, I'd felt weird just walking in and out of the place. As time went by, I'd been appreciated by the staff, and begun to feel more comfortable being around the place. Now, I felt at home.

"Hi, Lou," she said, looking up as I came in. "Would you be able to spare a night to stop by and talk to some of the clients? They'd kind of like to hear from you."

"This ghosts, or history?" I asked.

"Mostly ghosts. They've been hearing some things around the shelter, and some of them are starting to believe the place is haunted."

"Well, it probably is. Place was built in 1885."

"Yeah, but you know how it is. I'd like you to come in and talk to them about ghosts, and maybe a little history on the building, and see if you can get them calmed down."

"I can do that," I said. "As a kid, I never saw myself as a calming presence, but I can handle it."
"You have the time?"
"Sure, it's a little slow lately. Probably the writers' strike. I can be here next Wednesday, if you like."
"That would be fine. Thanks."

"Anytime. Call if you need me."

I was at work when the storm broke out.

Sitting at my desk, I saw the pouring rain through the window, and watched the lightning flash across the sky. I was sitting in the oldest section of the local library, built in 1887.
My name is Lou. I'm a paranormal investigator. I look into ghosts, aliens, cryptids, and local history, and then I write about it. It's shocking how much attention you can get this way.

I sideline at the local library. Was a time, years ago, I'd have said I'm a librarian who supplements with my writing. But the older I get, the more I've begun to feel it's the other way around.

I was working on processing books when Zach ran by---One of my co-workers. He shouted,"We have a leak!"

I got up and walked toward the stacks. This is not an uncommon occurrence in an old library; it's why we were currently getting the roof fixed. I walked into the stacks---And saw disaster.

The water was coming through the ceiling in torrents. It was flooding the stacks, and soaking the books. A couple of my co-workers were pulling the computer tables out of the way and throwing plastic sheeting up over the shelves. One of my co-workers ran past, shouting,"We have  buckets up in Children's!"

I followed her up the stairs. "Does Children's have a wading pool or something?"
"She does! Good thinking! She keeps it in the storage room."

I found the pool and ran it downstairs. I put it under one of the bigger spurts. I ran to the shelf in the back room and began pulling old yearbooks off the shelves, running them back to the Pennsylvania Room, out of the rushing water. 

Halfway back, I bumped into Zach. "Where's Bill?" he asked.

Bill is the maintenance guy. "Don't know."
"The electricity is smoking."

I turned and ran for the lobby. "Bill!!?"

"Yeah?" To my relief, I heard his voice from the lobby.

"Zach says the electric is starting to smoke! We gotta shut down the fuse!"
Bill ran for the fusebox. I continued moving yearbooks into the PA Room, getting my Kraken shirt wet, then pulled my cell phone out of my pack and slipped off to the stairwell. I dialed the charity down the street.

It was Juli who picked up. I said,"How you guys doing down there?"

"Us? We're fine. Hell of a storm, but we're doing okay."

"Good. No problems with the building?"

"No, it's cool."

"Okay. Thought I'd better call and make sure. We're flooding here, but lately I feel more responsibility to the shelter than the library."

"Thanks for checking on us, but we're all safe."
"Okay. Good."

 I heard a repeating beeping. Following the sound, I realized that some of the lights on the alarm box were blinking.

"Bill! The alarm is making a noise!"
"Oh, dammit, I interrupted the whole thing!"
He ran for the alarm system. I saw a new place where the water was leaking, and threw another container underneath it.
"It's spreading!"

The boss stood on the side of the room, shaking her head.

"I'll have to call the insurance company," she said. "We're going to have to close up until we can get this taken care of."

In the middle of all the chaos, my friend Chris came in the back door with his camera. Chris was my intern well over a decade ago, and we'd become really good friends since. He wrote for one of the same newspapers I did these days.

"Here to report for the Record," he said. "Heard you guys were having a disaster."

"Jesus, are we ever. Follow me."

I led him back to the stacks, where he gaped at the collapsed ceiling and the flooded floor. "My god, you weren't kidding," he said. "How are you ever going to fix all this?"

I shook my head.

"I don't know."

Paul was packing his lunch for school in the kitchen. From what I could see, it consisted of two kinds of crackers, candy, and pickles, but I've long since given up questioning these things. From my pack, I heard my cell phone ringing---I'd made a point to set it to the plainest, most phone-like ringtone I could find. I dug for it in my pack.

It was Kira. Kira is my friend who works with Downtown Lock Haven, for the moment. She'd recently gotten a new job with the Economic Partnership, and was moving over there soon.

"What the hell's going on at the library?"

"We had a roof leak because of the repairs, which ironically were being done to fix roof leaks. It's bad, Kira. It's very bad. We're gonna be shut down for a few days at least."

"Oh, that's terrible."

"It's not great," I admitted. "Gonna be closed for a while. We're still holding the book sale, though, and it'll be more important than ever this year. Hey. You know I've applied for your job, right?"
"I know. I recommended you."
"Well, thanks for that. I mean, we'll see how it plays out, but I'm hoping. It may be time for me to move on from the library."

"The board hasn't made any decisions yet, but I'm pulling for you. Hey. I gotta run and eat pizza with my kids now."

"You do that. Have fun. I'll see you at the next meeting."

I've always loved autumn. When the leaves start turning colors and the weather gets cooler, it's my time to shine. I'll be telling ghost stories soon. My mother was a teacher, so I grew up around the educational system. It's probably why fall always feels like the beginning for me, adventures ahead. She'd have been mortified that I make my living chasing ghost stories, but my love for autumn has always lasted.

These days, autumn was a bit of a double-edge Pine Creek sword, though. Along with the cool weather and the fallen leaves, Paul was back in school. This left me alone and bored, and already awake. It was always a reminder of just how much time I spent with my son, and how alone I felt without him,

I'd been in the mood for breakfast, with Paul in school. It had dawned on me that I could get a decent breakfast at the coffee shop, so I biked down and got a coffee and an egg sandwich.

I sat down with Chris and his wife Kate at a table. I was wearing my South Carolina Lizard Man shirt.

"Hi, guys," I said. "Figured I'd come see if you were here."

"Of course we're here," said Chris. "Grab a seat."

"I love the little ghost sticker on your key card," Kate commented.

I glanced down at my lanyard, which held my key card for the shelter. It had a little sticker of a ghost holding a heart. "Figured I'd mark the key as noticeably mine," I said. "Been productive today. I got two columns done, sent in one for West Branch Life, and I have to get down to the shelter and do an exit interview. Figured I'd stop on the way."

"How's the job application going?" Chris asked.

"Waiting on word," I said. "They seem to be still gathering applications. I'm waiting to hear back."

"Got something for you," said Chris. "I saw a weird light on the mountain last night."

Kate grinned. "This again."

"I was driving on 150 from McElhattan," said Chris. "I saw a bright shining light on the mountain. It shined for a second or two, then went away. Up on the mountain where there's no houses."

"Hmm. About what time?"

"About six-ten-ish, I'd say. A UAP up on the mesa?"
"Could be. I mean, I want to say reflection off a rifle scope, but it's not hunting season. Did it appear to be a reflection, or an independent light?" 

"Independent light. Definitely."

"Was it moving?"

"Hard to tell, but I don't think so. It appeared still."

"I'm intrigued," I said. "I'm gonna designate this one CT-23. Castanea Township, 2023. UFO on the mountain. I'm gonna look into this, man. Things have been a little slow lately."

The weather was cool and placid when I got up the next morning. I got Paul and the little girls next door onto the school bus, and then got ready for work. I turned off of Bellefonte Avenue on my bike to on my own little path. Several years ago, the college spent about a million dollars to build a walking path for the students, who have never bothered to use it. So I basically have a path all to myself.

I rode behind where Painter Stadium used to be, and zigzagged over past the ruins of the old railroad machine shop. Then I hung a left where the walking bridge was torn down, passed behind the old synagogue, and turned left at the Kistler Carriage House. A right at the Furst House brought me to the library. You didn't understand a word of that. That's okay; it got me to work.

I walked through the stacks, looking at the damage. Water was still covering the majority of the floor, plastic was all over everything, and half the ceiling had fallen in. It was the worst I'd ever seen the place in the eleven years I'd worked there.

Jenn was in the PA Room, sorting the yearbooks for water damage. I said,"Think I'll take a couple of moments and sneak off today, check the building for ghosts. This is prime haunting conditions, with a disaster that bears a resemblance to one that one of our ghosts went through. Mary Elizabeth Crocker may be haunting the place, and she dealt with the 1936 flood."

Jenn nodded. "I never know if you're being serious when you say stuff like that," she said.

Outside, everyone was busy setting up for the book sale. I walked out and began opening boxes, unloading the books onto a table. Wearing my Loch Ness Monster shirt, I cruised around to the Local section to see what I could find.

There was a woman browsing them. She said,"Do you still sell the history book about Lock Haven? My grandmother wrote that."

"Yes, I know. You tell me that every time I see you."

I dug through the local books, and I spotted one. "A Township Called Wayne," by....Well.

I picked it up. "I always knew this was coming one day," I said. "My book, donated in a used book sale."

I took it inside and set it on my desk. Then I got out my all-in-one EMF detector and started doing a sweep of the stacks. Zach spotted me, and asked,"What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know, just checking for ghosts," I said.

"The electricity's been shut off, if that's what that measures."

"I'm not getting any readings, if it makes you feel better."

"It does, actually."

Paul was out playing with his little friends when I left the house. I found them out on the sidewalk, riding their bikes. Paul said,"Did you think you were getting out of here without saying goodbye to me?"

"I'm only headed out for a bit, buddy." I gave him a hug. Then I said,"Paul? You know I applied for another job, right?"
"Yeah."
"What would you think about that? If I left the library?"

"You'd be home more, right? When I get home from school?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't be working as late."
"Yeah. I want that."

My son doesn't care where I work. He just wants me with him as much as possible.

I put my hands in my pockets, and nodded. "Okay. Gonna run down to the shelter, little man. Back in about an hour."

It was a similar scene two nights later when I came outside with my tac vest on. Serena looked me over and declared,"You got too many vests. I can never keep track."

"They all have different purposes," I explained. "This one is for ghosts, but also has extra equipment for when I'm not sure what I'll be dealing with. It's the one I'll be wearing when Paul and I go back down to the shelter next week." I turned to Paul. "Gonna need you for that one."
"Okay," said Paul. I felt a little weird, standing out on the sidewalk in my uniform and vest, as opposed to inside a dark haunted house.

"Can you get ne a vest like this?" asked little Sekiyah.

"I'm not sure they come in your size."

Chris pulled up. Paul said,"Uncle Chris! I lost two teeth in the last two days!"
"Wow! Let's see!" Chris made a show of examining Paul's smile, and asked,"You get any money for that?"

"Two dollars!"

"I used to get a quarter."

"Me, too, but you know, inflation," I said as I climbed into Chris's car. "Back in an hour, little man."

"Okay!" called Paul.

Chris drove down to the end of the street and turned left. "Thought I'd take you out the exact route I was on at the time."

"Good plan."

Chris drove out to McElhattan, turned, and then started back along 150. He slowly pulled over. "It was right about here. I saw it on that mountain, up above that black billboard."

We got out and walked along the highway for a moment. He said,"The sun was a little bit lower that night."

"Looking at these angles, there's no way it was a reflection." In spite of what Chris had said, I'd still been considering the idea of something reflecting, but that was impossible. I lifted my binoculars to take a look.

"No houses, no roads....Probably a couple of hiking paths up there, but nothing that should be lighting up." I handed Chris the binoculars.

"Is that a cut?" he asked.

"Power line," I said.

"Should we get closer?"

"We should."

We got back in the car and drove toward Castanea. "Could some sort of power line problem have caused this?" he asked. "A spark from a transformer? Isn't your dad retired from PP&L?"

"I've actually had something like this conversation with my dad. A transformer blowing, that could potentially cause a light for a moment."
"Would I be able to see it all the way down here?"

"God yes. I remember seeing something like that in Allentown around 1989 once. Lit up half the sky. And you might not even necessarily notice a blackout, either, because it's programmed to immediately reroute the power."

"Hmm."

"Got my job interview tomorrow," I said.

"Make sure you get as much money as you can."

"God. The low end of what they're offering is three times what I'm getting now. Right now, I'd take a pay cut to get this job."

"Not gonna get promoted at the library?"
"Jesus, at the library I don't even like the way I'm being treated now. If it was possible to apply for a demotion, I'd do it." I thought it over a moment. "I will say, though, that I've been feeling better about the place since the disaster. I'm caring about work for the first time in a while. That roof collapse did wonders for my attitude."

Chris turned into Castanea. "I should be able to get close to the mountain..."

"If we turn right at the PP&L substation, we should be able to see."
We turned and went down to just past the substation, where we found the road leading up to the power lines. It was gated off, and we leaned against the gates, where we could see clear up the cut.

"Looks like the logical explanation is a transformer problem, and you saw it blow from the highway.:

Chris nodded. "Kinda still want to tell people I saw a UFO, though."

"For all we know, a landing UFO caused the transformer to blow. I'm on board."

I sat in the county commissioners'' conference room, facing the four board members of Downtown Lock Haven. I was wearing my grey suit, as if I have a whole bunch of other suits. They had been asking me questions for forty-five minutes now.

"So, I have one more thing," one of them said. "What makes you want this position?"
"I want to help the city," I said. "I've always wanted to help the city. I love Lock Haven. Lock Haven has given a lot to me, and I want to give something back. This seems like the next logical step. Lock Haven....It's my home. I've lived here three decades, and I love it. And I just want to help."

"How did it go?" Serina's mom asked me, standing out on the porch. I was wearing my grey suit and my blue tie with the little bulldogs on it, which I'd owned since high school. 

"I think well enough," I said. "Got through the job interview. Now I should be hearing something within a week. Just wanted to stop by and let you know I'm home---Thanks for watching Paul."

"Oh, anytime," she said. "Mostly the kids were out playing on the sidewalk."

"Like usual."

"What is this you're wearing?" Paul asked, examining my suit jacket.

"This is a suit. You have no reason to think I own one. I'm gonna go get changed into some real clothes."

"Yeah, you look kinda funny," said Serina. "I mean, not funny, but....Not quite right...."
I smiled. "I know. Feels weird to me, too. I'm gonna go get into a ghost t-shirt, the way I belong."

"Can I open the door, Daddy?" Paul asked as we parked our bikes in front of the shelter.

I handed him my key card. "Go ahead."

We buzzed ourselves in. Julie was in the conference room with two of the clients. I set down the big bag, and said,"How's things going? Any activity?"
"The door keeps rattling all night."

"Paul, check it out." 

Paul moved to the door with his EMF detector. I opened the bag and got our vests out. I pulled mine on over my uniform, and then the fingerless gloves. Paul got his on.

"What's this?" Julie asked.

"That's a thermal imager. I use that to detect heat sources." I turned it on and passed it around the table. "We check temperature, electricity, sonics, photography. We try to be as scientific as possible."

"I'm scared you might actually find something," said one of the clients.

"No reason to worry," I said. "TV and movies make this seem as scary as possible, but in real life, it's not like that. Probably the only people haunting this place are children. I found two who may have died in the building. By the way, the building is probably older than we thought---The people who filled out the Historic Resource Survey Form just got their information from the 1885 Sanborn Map. I've found some evidence that suggests the building could go back to the 1870s. I need to get to the courthouse and do a title search. Oh, and the third floor wasn't added until after World War II."

"Now, that's fascinating," said Julie. "How did you find that out?"
"Up until 1925, the Sanborn Maps list this as a two-story place. After the war, it was bought by an insurance company and they used it as a rental. That was when they built the third floor. When I mentioned this to the director the other day, she commented that the third floor does look newer."

"Dad!" said Paul. "When are we going to investigate?"
"We're getting to it," I said. I turned on my EMF detector and set it on the table. "Paul and I are going to do a walk-through. You guys keep an eye on this until we get back."

The lights immediately flickered to red. Everyone gasped. I said,"Well, that's a good sign. We may get some activity tonight."

Paul and I walked through the first floor, checking with our thermometers. We got to the far end, at the kitchen, and turned around. I said,"Want to see the upstairs?"

"Sure."

We walked up, and through the second floor. The accounting offices---Most boring place in the building. Upstairs was the third floor, and it did look architecturally newer---I hadn't noticed it before, but knowing what I did, I could see it. We went through, thermometers out.

We walked down the back staircase, which I almost always forgot was there, and back down into the conference room. Julie was waiting with the clients, and the EMF detector was still flickering.

"It keeps doing that," said one of the clients.

"We'll sit down and do an EVP session," I said. "But this is a good sign. Looks like we have some activity tonight."

"Thanks for coming tonight, Lou," said Julie. "I appreciate you doing this."
"Thanks for having me," I said.

Julie smiled. "Well, things are always a little more interesting with you around."

A week later, I was back having coffee with Chris and Kate. Kate was buried in her laptop, doing some sort of promotion, and I was finishing my coffee.

"Nothing new on the job?" Chris asked.

I shook my head. "They're taking forever with this hiring process. Looks like I stick it out at the library for a while more."

"Hang in there, man."

I finished off my coffee and stood up. "I gotta get over to the senior center. Got a speech to give over there, with a hundred people signed up."

"Oh, what's your speech on?"

"Ghosts, of course." I pulled on my jacket. "Hey. You and me have been buddies so long, I sometimes forget that you started out as my intern. But I'd like to step back into that role for a minute."
"Uh-oh."

"No, this is good stuff. I'm proud of you, man."

Chris looked a little shocked. "For what?"

"Everything you do for this community. You've really become a great force in the area, you do a lot, and you help a lot of organizations. You're hitting all the right notes. I'm proud of you for that."

"Well, thanks, Lou," he said. "Thanks for your kind words." 

I picked up my pack. "Gotta run. See you for coffee next week."

I slung my pack over my shoulder and walked out into the nice October air.

Little Treasures

"...I never wanna hear you say....I want it that way!"

This would have been okay if it had been coming from the SUV's radio, but it was not. The radio wasn't even on. The song was coming from Paul and his little friend Serina, sitting in the back of the vehicle with Tif.

"Sing louder!"

"You sing louder!"

"You do too much!"

"You do too much!"

We were halfway to Lancaster County, and this had been about typical for the trip.

I turned in my seat, hoping to forestall further performances. "So we'll be at the camp pretty soon, you two. We'll check in at the cabin, and you guys can go play in the pool a while. I got some stuff to do later, if you like."

"There's ghosts, right?" Paul asked.

"That's right. In one book, I found a legend of the ghost of an old farmer, who rides around on a glowing tractor. That's real near the camp, so we can walk around and take a look. We'll be in Columbia again visiting the Turkey Hill Experience, so we can make a stop and look for the Albatwitch. And there's a buried treasure down in Lancaster County, too."

"Yay!" said Serina. "Buried treasure!"

"Back in the 1700s, robbers used to steal from people traveling in the area. They hid the loot, and many of them never went back for it."

"Like pirate treasure!" Serina said. "X marks the spot!"

"Well, this should be pretty well hidden, and it's said to be guarded by a Native American ghost. But yes. We can go looking for that, if we like."

"Okay," said Paul. "But first the pool."

"We'll have plenty of time; you can swim in the pool. But when you feel like investigating, I brought some of my equipment."

"How long until we get there?" asked Paul.

I glanced at my watch. "About another hour."

"You are....My fire...My one....Desire...."

The cabin was a small, one-room thing with a couple of bunk beds. We'd brought a lawn chair for Tif, who decided she wanted to sleep outside on the porch. When I'm traveling, I make an effort to remain somewhat organized, so that most of my stuff is already packed at any given time. By contrast, the kids had their clothes scattered on the floor within moments of entering the cabin.

By nightfall, they'd already spent a couple of hours in the pool. Both of them were sitting on their bunks, and I figured I'd go out exploring. I pulled my paranormal bag out from under my bunk, and got out my vest. It was a travel model---Soft, a cryptozoology vest, but that was okay. I pulled it on over my "Paranormal Investigator" shirt, and Serina immediately looked up.

"You're not going out ghost-hunting without us?"

I should have known I'd never get away with that. "You want to come? Get your uniforms on."

Both of them immediately scrabbled for their T-shirts. Paul had an LHPS uniform like I did, but when the neighborhood kids had begun asking for paranormal lessons, I'd had some customized shirts made. Paul's was pink, and Serina's was black. Both had their names, and a logo that said "Ghost Gang."

We left the cabin, and headed into the main camping area. These Yogi Bear camps were heavy on the kid-friendly fun, and we were essentially on the outskirts, in a nice little forested spot. Not far up the road were the bathrooms, and then the big playground. In the dark, we walked to the other end, where the camp ran up against farmland.

There was a fence separating the camp parking lot from the cornfield, but it was a halfhearted effort at best, and we were past it in no time. I said,"This field is where the ghost farmer was sighted. According to one of the books I found, a policeman saw him riding on a glowing tractor, and you could see him shining from miles off."

"I don't see any glowing," commented Paul.

"Me either, yet."

Serina shook her head. "This ghost do too much."

I got out my all-in-one EMF detector. The temperature was holding consistently at sixty-eight, and I wasn't getting so much as a flicker on the EMF. Corn isn't electric. I walked around the edge of the field a while, but nothing came up.

"Looks like the farmer ghost isn't out tonight, guys," I said. "Let's get back to the cabin. You got a big day tomorrow. Time for bed."

The Turkey Hill Ice Cream Museum is basically a huge advertisement for the brand, but well worth seeing. We'd been there before, but it was worth another stop, especially since Serina and Tif hadn't seen it. The kids were running around the second floor, playing on the slide in the big pasteurizing tank, and I was learning that it was somehow five times harder to supervise two kids than one kid. Mathematically that shouldn't happen, but somehow it does.

"I want to go back for another free ice cream sample," said Paul. "Mint chocolate chip this time."

"I'll go, too," said Serina, and off they went to stand in line.

I went and got a sample of raspberry iced tea from the sample bar. (See, I can do product placement, too.) I found Tif in the fake freezer, exploring the place.

"Having fun sleeping outside?" I asked.

"It's peaceful," she said. "I heard coyotes last night. And some kind of owl, I think, but it didn't make the typical noise."

"Screech owl, maybe. Did you fall last night?"

"Nope. I got up, but didn't fall."

"I heard something make a really loud thumping noise outside. I thought it might have been you, but when I looked out the window, you were asleep. I can't figure out what was thudding like that."

"Bigfoot, maybe."

"He has been known to pound on things."

"What's the plan for the rest of the day?"

"On the way home, we'll stop and look for the Albatwitch. Then it's back to the camp, let the kids splash in the pool all day."

"That Albatwitch. Isn't that a mini-Bigfoot?"

"It is. They steal apples from orchards. The name comes from the German, meaning Apple witch."
"Oh, I like that."

"We took a shot once before, but it was during the Albatwitch Festival. It's never going to appear with thousands of people around. We'll try today, while it's quieter. And it's under an overpass---You know cryptids love overpasses. They can't get enough of them."

"Why is that?"

"They look blurrier from up there."

With Paul and Serina behind me, I hiked into the forest. As we climbed down to the creek, Serina knelt down on a rock. "What kind of shell is this?"

I glanced at it. "That's a mussel shell. Kind of like a clam."

"There's a bunch of them. Can we each keep one?"

"Sure, no reason why not. Something's been eating them---Some animal caught these in the Susquehanna, and ate them up here."
"The Albatwitch?" Paul asked.

"Could be just raccoons, but you never know. Mostly the Albatwitch eats apples, though."

"The Albatwitch do too much."

We crossed the creek, and we were in a grassy field near the Susquehanna River. I could see the Columbia Bridge towering overhead.

"This forest is where the Albatwitch is often sighted," I said. "We'll check around."

"I'll look this way," said Paul.

"Be careful. Stay away from the edge of the river."

Serina followed me down to the path. I said,"This is where we tried last time. We baited it with an apple, but the Albatwitch didn't take the bait that time."

"How do you know where to look?"

"When you want to catch a cryptid, you have to look near water. Every living thing needs water to survive. So in this area, it pays to stick near the forest close to the Susquehanna."

I love the Susquehanna River. It covers like a third of the state. Wherever I go on an adventure, the Susquehanna tends to be somewhere around. This was a wider area of the Susquehanna than I got to see in Lock Haven, but still the same river as home, and there was something comforting about that.

We looped around, and met Paul on the edge of the field. He said,"Something was shaking the trees over there. I watched it for a while."

"Nice work," I said. "You guys ready to go?"

"Got your towels? Water?"

I left the cabin with the kids, and we started walking toward the pool. These Yogi Bear camps look big, but they have everything within a reasonable walking distance. It's a five minute walk over to the pool, the kids' favorite bit.

Serina and Paul went running ahead as we walked. Behind me, a couple of kids were riding bikes, and I turned as one of them hit the corner wrong, skidded, and landed in the gravel. He scraped his knee and began to cry.

I ran over. "Hey, buddy. Here, can you stand up? Let me help."

The other kids gathered around as I helped him stand up. His knee had a minor scrape and was bleeding. I said,"Not too bad. We can take care of that. Are your parents around?"

One of the other kids pointed. "They're right at the camp up there."

"Okay. This'll get you there to show them, and they can put a band-aid on." I dug in my pack for some spray Neosporin. "This will clean it up, and it won't hurt at all. Might be a little cold." I gave him a squirt. "There. Should be okay."

"Thanks!" said a little girl.

I smiled. "No problem."

The kids raced to the pool as I sat down at the table by Michelle. She said,"Kids doing okay?"
"Yeah, they can't wait to get at the water. We got like fifteen towels hanging on the porch railing drying out. We have any plans for the rest of the day?"

"There's a build-a-bear thing in a while, I thought the kids might want to go to that. A dance party and then a movie tonight. You have anything you want to do?"

I shrugged. "Might take a look around for that buried treasure. I know roughly where to look; I been staring at old Lancaster County maps for weeks. There were thieves who used to hide the loot, which means it needs to be near a roadway. Someplace accessible---They meant to go back for it later. Probably near water; everyone needs water to survive."

"And you think it's out there somewhere."

"I know it's out there. Whether or not it's where I figure is the question, but it's worth looking."

"Did you bring a shovel?"

"I brought a folding trowel. If they wanted to retrieve it later, they wouldn't have gone too deep."
"How do you know nobody else found it?"

"It's not a precise science, Michelle."

"I'm going to go get a drink. Do you want anything?"

"Nah, thanks, I'm good. I'll keep an eye on the kids here for a while."

One nice thing about this trip, the mornings weren't too hot and humid. I drank a cup of coffee while I stood over the fire, scrambling some eggs in a pan. 

Tif was looking over the railing of the porch at me. "Is that toothpaste you have on the pan there?"

"It is. I always bring some. Old trick I learned as a kid---You smear toothpaste all over your cookware before you put it on the fire. The toothpaste scorches instead of your pan. Preserves stuff; this cook kit was made in 1975. It's the same one I used as a kid; it's older than you."

"Last day today. You got anything planned?"

"The kids are going to spend most of it at the pool, though there was talk of glitter tattoos later. Personally, I thought I might go out and explore a bit."

"Bye, Dad!" called Paul. "See you later!"

It's been nine years, and I still get a little thrill every time he says Dad. I'll never really get tired of that.

"Aren't you coming?" asked Serina.

"I have to get cleaned up here. I'll catch up with you guys a bit later, see how you're doing. And tonight, I want to burn off the last of the campfire wood. So I'm gonna start a big fire, and you guys can eat marshmallows until you puke."

"You do too much," she said, and raced off after Paul and Michelle.

I walked down to the wash station with the breakfast dishes and washed them. A few years ago, this sort of thing bugged me, but then I realized that nobody else could do it right and I didn't like swimming anyway. I put everything away and straightened up the cabin a bit, then pulled out my uniform and put it on.

Time to do my thing.

I walked down the path, and then veered into the woods. I stopped a moment to check the map, and then continued. At the bottom of the hill, there was a pond, and Stewart Run cut right through the forest about there. I followed it, going southeast. 

If I'd walked along the road, I was looking at a couple of miles of hiking. Assuming I could stick close to Stewart Run, I would be cutting a lot of time off my trip.

It was a nice morning.

I followed the creek downhill, pushing my way through the brush. I couldn't tell at exactly what point it entered the protected natural area nearby, but I followed it to the back road on the map. There, the creek crossed the road, exactly where it had centuries ago.

"X marks the spot," I said softly.

I got out the EMF detector and scouted around a bit, hoping to find some sign of the Native American ghost guarding the place. Nothing. I switched over to temperature, and realized it had dropped to 71.

What the hell? It's getting to be like a hundred and sixty out here. How am I getting a dip like that?
I looked around. There was a cool breeze coming from my left. I followed it, and found the goddamnedest swampiest area I'd ever seen. It was coated with mud and muck, enough to suck me down like quicksand. On the other side there was a rock outcropping, and that seemed to be where the breeze was coming from.

Swamps can contain their own fixes, if you look hard enough. The ground is wet and soft, but not solid enough to support trees. I selected a decent-looking tree and braced myself between it and a rock. They'll grow 'em, but they won't support 'em.

I shoved, and the tree uprooted and went over. It crashed across the swamp, giving me a small bridge to use. I balanced my way across to the rock outcropping.

Standing on stable rock, I examined it. The breeze seemed to be coming from behind a decent-sized flat rock. I got out a small prybar and worked my way around, wiggling it free, and then pulled it out. And, bam, there it was. A small cavern, hidden behind the rock.

I got a small flashlight out of my vest pocket and shined it inside, examining the interior. 

That looks pretty precarious to me. That whole thing could collapse, and three hundred years of neglect hasn't helped any. 

On the other hand, it is a good place to hide a buried treasure.

I crawled inside. Slow, careful. If I fucked this up, I could get buried like Fort Reed, and nobody even knew where to look for me. Probably I should have told someone where I was going. A few feet back, it opened up more, and I was able to get up and walk crouched over.

At the far end, there was a flat rock sitting on the ground. A small package was on it, folded paper tied up with string.

When I reached out and picked it up, the whole thing fell apart. Inside was a handful of small metallic nuggets, sparkling in the flashlight.

Brushing the dirt and dust off, I examined them.

We got a storm that night. The kids were out at the movie when it started to rain, and I went down and walked them back home. When we got back to the cabin, it really began to pour.

"We're gonna die," commented Serina, lying on the top bunk.

"Nobody dies," I said. "It's just a storm. We've been through it before. Having started with one last year, I much prefer getting the storm at the end of the trip."

"Do we have to go to bed yet?" asked Paul.

"Well, first, I have an announcement," I said. "You remember that buried treasure? Good news and bad news. This morning, I did some hiking, and I found it." I brought out the handful of nuggets.

"What's the bad news?" asked Serina.

"Well, this isn't gold. It's iron pyrite. Fool's gold. The robbers a long time ago didn't know the difference---They stole this, and hid it, but it's not valuable."

Paul turned a nugget over in his hand, looking it over. "Can I have some of this?"

"Sure. You can add it to your rock collection."

"You do too much," said Serina.

"You do too much."

Paul and Serina climbed up on the bunk together, looking it over. Eventually, they turned to their tablets, and began watching some silly video online. I'd begun the summer wishing they'd have a good one, and it seemed to have happened. I watched them, two best friends, being little kids for a while. The only treasures I'd ever really needed to discover.

"Bedtime soon, guys," I said. "I want everyone to get lots of sleep. We have a big day tomorrow---We're heading home."

Haunted Knights

"Do you like dogs?" the woman asked from behind the screen door.

"Love them," I said.

She opened the door, and we walked in to be greeted by her two German Shepherds. Paul followed me, and my friend Justin showed up a moment later.

"Paul, you remember Justin," I said. "He's my only lawyer friend."

Justin laughed. He said to the woman,"So you found some gravestones from the old Great Island Cemetery?"

"They're all over my back yard," she said. "I read one of Lou's columns, and I know that Great Island Cemetery was right across the street from here..."

"Removed in 1919," I said. "Not all of the gravestones were found. Not all of the bodies, either."

"They're this way," she said.

We went out in the back yard. By the alley, she indicated a stone face-down in the dirt. I carefully overturned it and brushed it off. The name was Zachariah Naul.

"Zachariah Naul," said Justin. "Not familiar with that one."
I pulled out the CCGS cemetery index book. "No mention in the records. This is a new one."

"Ah, you brought that," said Justin. "Good job."

"I wanted to come prepared." Paul was using his tablet to take photos of the stone.

Inside the fence was a stone that had been used as part of a walkway. I overturned it, with the lady cautioning me,"Don't hurt yourself."

"Don't worry. If I'm gonna get injured, this is how I want to do it."
The stone was for Clarissa Mahan. I flipped the pages. "No Clarissa. We have a Chrissie Mahan, which sounds way to modern for 1855....The dates match."

"Probably we got that off the terrible handwriting everything was written in back then," said Justin. "Wasn't this from the Mahan Hotel?"
"Could be---This could be the aunt of town founder Jerry Church's daughter. This is big."

There was a footstone with the initials J.R. Sitting on the swing, Paul took the book and flipped through. "I found a John Raab," he called out.

"Very possible," I said. "Nice work."
"We can perhaps have these placed in Highland Cemetery," Justin said. "That would be historically authentic."

"I'll talk to Highland Cemetery," I said.

"This is incredible."

I agreed,"Best Wednesday night I've had in a while."

I pulled my tac vest off the hanger, folded it, and tucked it into my black bag. I packed up my infrared reader and added that, too. Extra batteries, first aid kit, knife....I was ready.

I walked downstairs and then outside to check on the kids. They were all on the sidewalk, riding scooters and bikes, and it appeared that there were at least fifty. Then they slowed down, and it turned out there were only five of them---My son, the little girls from next door, and their cousin.

They gathered around. Seriya said,"Lou! Since you made ghost-hunting shirts for Paul and Serina, can we have some too?"

"I can do that," I said. "I'll teach you guys how to use the equipment, and do some ghost-hunting. How's that?"

Love's eyes widened. "Do you really catch ghosts?"

"I'm with a team. I have an investigation tonight."

"Can I come?" she asked.

I smiled. "This one's just for the adults. It's for the LHPS team."

"Can I come?" asked Paul.

"Not this time, little guy."

"I'm on the team."

"Well, you're kind of the sidekick. You can stay up and wait for me, though, how's that? You can watch TV until I get home."
"Okay."

 As evening approached, I grabbed my stuff, got on my bike, and biked downtown. I rode through Lock Haven to Main Street---I love looking at Lock Haven. All these years, and I am not yet tired of looking at the buildings, the streets, all the unique bits of the city. I parked on East Main Street, and walked into White Knights Game Shop.

Tami was already there, with her kid, Juno. The owner of the building, Alex, shook my hand.

"Thanks for coming to investigate, Lou," he said. "Always good to see you."

"Same," I said. "Thanks for letting us come in. I did the research---That's going to be yours to keep. This place was built for Jacob Kamp and his family. He was a shoe salesman. He lost three children---Two babies, and a thirteen-year-old daughter named Nannie. That was typhoid. They're all buried in Highland Cemetery. So those are my biggest suspects."

"Thanks," said Alex. "That's more information than my wife could find."

"Sometimes it's just knowing where to look." I turned to Tami. "How's the campaign going?"

"It's going," she said. "I'm planning on not going door to door; a lot of people have indicated they hate that. I'll be reaching out to the public by attending a lot of events, instead."
"Good idea," I said as Ashlin came into the shop as Alex was leaving. "You should publicize that's the reason. We still have your sign in our yard. It's stood up to a lot of abuse this summer. Smoke, storms, children...."

Tami grinned. "Come October, I'll have to shell out for a lot more signs."

I heard a small knock behind me, and I turned. Nothing. Just a little, immediate sound by the bulletin board. "Did you---"

"Yeah," Tami said. "I heard it." She set her EMF detector down on the glass counter, and it immediately began to flicker. Green lights went to yellow unpredictably. She said,"Whoa..."
"That's unexpected," I said. "We're starting already. Let me do a test."

I pulled out mine, moved it around the area, and got nothing. I shrugged into my tac vest, pulling on the skull gloves. It always feels good to be in uniform. Tami said,"I'm activating my recorder. July twenty-ninth, at White Nights Game Room. Tami."

"Lou."

"Ashlin."

"Juno."

"Is there anyone here?"

 The lights flickered for a moment, and then stopped.

"I can't see anything that would set off the EMF," I said. "I'm going to go around and get photos."
I circulated around the room, snapping photos with my camera. The place was intensely neat, with dragons and dice and Star Wars characters in every direction. I stopped by a suit of armor, checking around with my EMF detector, and then moved on along the wall, by a herd of Owlbears and a couple of castles.

"This place is pretty well insulated," I commented. "I've been in some old buildings that are just bleeding EMFs. but this isn't like that. I'm not getting much, which makes these flickers especially weird."

"We don't even have an electric register on this counter," said Juno. "Just a small cashbox."

I flashed around with the laser thermometer. "Temperature baseline steady at sixty-nine."

"That's how Alex always leaves it set," said Juno. "It's a little chilly."
"Actually I kinda like it," I said. "In the summer, a lot of the time, wearing the tactical vest dehydrates me. This isn't too bad."

Tami was looking over the Historic Resource Survey Form I'd supplied. "It looks like the family may have run the store in this part, and lived in the back."

"Well," I said,"Why don't we check it out back there, then?"

The back room was a small place, with a sink and cabinets, and four tables set almost randomly, surrounded by chairs. Tami dropped into one, and we joined her around the table. Her digital recorder was already going.

I set mine next to it. "What Knights, first floor rear, July twenty-ninth, 9:01 PM." I gave it a moment while I set my EMF detector down. "Is anyone here with us?"

"Did you live here?" asked Tami.

There was a flicker---Up to yellow. I glanced around. "Nothing electric. Nothing that would set this off."

"Are you Nannie?" asked Tami.

"Are you Catherine?" asked Ashlin.

It went to orange. Just for a second, and then back.

"Catherine did die at forty-three," I commented. "That's awfully young to die."
"Did you work in here?"
Yellow.

"Do you miss your children?" I asked.

Yellow.

"Would you like us to visit your grave sometime?"

Yellow.

"This is a lot of EMF activity," I said. "I don't think I've ever seen the detectors get this active on an investigation."
"It's a good one," Tami agreed.

We folded at about ten, and got packed up. I biked through the city, now dark and much quieter. Up Church Street, along Bald Eagle, and then into Grouse Alley. I parked my bike behind the house and walked in.

Paul was sitting on the couch, watching TV and talking on his phone. Butters and Rosie were curled up with him. He looked up when I walked into the room. "Oh, hi, Daddy. How was the investigation?"

"It was good," I said. "A lot of activity on the EMF."
"Love!" said Paul. "My dad says they might have had a ghost! A lot of activity on the EMF!"

"I'm gonna get changed out of my uniform," I said. "Then I'll be down to join you. Think I'll have a beer---I still have some left from the ones Bre and Tami gave me."

"Okay, Daddy," said Paul. "I'll be right here."