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."