Black Saturday

In one morning, two things made the front page of the Allentown Morning Call: Me, and a horrible fire.

Chris sent me both. I opened my messages, and he'd sent me an interview that someone had done with me a couple of weeks ago---Questions about how to do the research on a haunted house. I hadn't realized it had been picked up by my hometown newspaper, though I had seen it on NCPA.

There was also a report of a huge fire starting on Blue Mountain. I read through that one on my laptop until Michelle came into the room.

"Big fire out near Dad's farm," I said. "Trees on Blue Mountain caught fire."

"How did it happen?"

"They don't seem to know yet. There was a fire like this when I was about fourteen. Just before I moved to Lock Haven, I hiked the mountain with some friends. There was still a couple of feet of ash all over that mountain."

"Is the farm okay?"

"Yeah, the fire would have to burn all the way across Slatington to hit Dad's farm. Amy says she can see the smoke from the valley, though."

"Well, I have to get off to work," she said. 

"Have a good day, honey."
Michelle left. I got Paul out of bed and sent him off to school, then drank coffee until it was time for work. I went in to the print shop, and was printing off envelopes when something occurred to me.

I brought up a map of Slatington on the computer, and looked it over. Then I went out to the main office and said,"I just had a wild thought."

Kelli and Emily looked up. "This ought to be good," said Kelli.

"There's a fire near my dad's farm. Forest fires drive wild animals out of the forest; they tend to run from the flames. This would include a Sasquatch."

Emily grinned. "So you'll have to tell your dad to keep an eye out."

"Better yet," I said. "We always go to get our Christmas tree after Thanksgiving. I'll actually get a chance soon to go out there and check."

"Can you see it?" Michelle asked as we rode past Palmerton. I was peering out the side window at Blue Mountain, and I shook my head.

"No sign of it. I wonder if I'm looking in the right place. Look, guys, there's the Marshall House, that haunted house on top of the hill."

Paul and Rylan looked briefly up from their screens at the Marshall House, which, to be fair, they'd seen before.

We always stop at the Hundred Steps when we go to Slatington. The Hundred Steps is a big concrete staircase that used to lead up to a factory. But that was torn down, so now they lead from one street to another street.

"When you count them, you never get the same number twice," I said as we walked over. "According to the legend, if you ever reach a hundred, you disappear. Let's try it."

We walked down the steps, Paul and Rylan counting aloud and being silly, me counting silently. It takes a minute; there's a lot of steps. When we got to the bottom, I glanced at the kids.

"Ninety-nine," said Paul.

"A hundred and six," said Rylan.

I grinned. "Ninety-three. Somehow, it always works that way."

We drove through Slatington and to the farm. Half an hour after arriving, I dragged a tree up and dropped it at the corner of the barn.

"You want it drilled?" my brother asked.

I nodded. "Shaken, drilled, baled. The works. Where was the fire on the mountain recently? I was looking for the spot, but...."

"Yeah, you just can't see it," said Jon. "It didn't leave much of a mark."

"It was all underbrush," said his assistant Scott. "It looked really bad, but it only burned the stuff underfoot. Unless you're right up there, you can't tell."

"Wow," I said. "I saw the pictures, and it looked terrible. You remember that one about 1985? That one left ash on the side of the mountain for years."

"I remember that one," commented my brother.

They put the tree through the baler, and then dropped it off over by the jeep. I spent half an hour tying it securely on top of the vehicle, because tying things on top always falls to the dad, an my masculinity was at stake.

I went an paid for the tree, and picked up some jars of jam to bring home for my new co-workers.

Another car pulled in. My other brother, David, got out with his family. I called over,"Hey, Paul! Looks who's here!"

"Nicholas!" Paul came running over to hug his younger cousin. My nephew Nicholas looks almost exactly like my brother had at that same age. Paul had been asking about seeing his cousins recently---It had been since COVID.

After a few minutes, they developed a baseball game, with my sister-in-law Victoria pitching. Michelle asked me,"You going to get in on this?"

"Think I'll walk around a little, actually," I said. I figured Paul could run around the farm unsupervised for a while. It hadn't killed me as a kid, and I'd really been trying.

"Where to?"

"Down in the woods."

I stopped back at the jeep to grab the cryptid kit. The cryptid kit is a green pouch that hangs over my shoulder, and contains everything I need to investigate the various kinds of cryptids. This can be a challenge, as there are various kinds, but I've tried to make it as thorough as possible while still wearable. I slung the thing over my shoulder and headed down to the forest.

I was wearing my new heavy-duty black coat, specifically for the cold weather. I had a removable hood on. Under the coat, I had my black puffy vest for winter investigations. Under that, I had my "Bigfoot Saw Me But Nobody Believes Him" sweatshirt.

I walked down the path between the springhouse and the barn, into the deeper forest. If anything had come from the north, it would have had to bypass the road and the house, which meant it would have had to come overland on the mountain and down into the deeper woods, where it was less likely to be seen. At the end of the path, I turned right and walked down the muddy dirt road to the creek.

There was a muddy spot along the creek, with a lot of deer tracks, but no Bigfoot that I could see. I was pleased to know that animals were coming in to drink from the creek, though---That was a good sign.

I continued down further into the woods. I stopped and considered where would be a good place to check, and then the spring occurred to me.

When I was a kid, we used to stop and drink from a small spring by the road. It was down along the shoulder, in a reasonably hidden spot. Worth checking. I walked up to the far end of the field and followed it down along the side until I found the old spring, then followed the water stream back down to where it met the creek, looking along the way for any sort of sign.

I kind of missed Resurrection Casey.

I stopped at the creek. Across, I could see something---Several white, round balls on the ground. What the hell? Worth checking out. I could either walk all the way back up to the path, or try to get across the creek. I looked it over, and there was a fallen tree spanning from one side to the other.

I stepped on it, and it flexed a bit. I was not a hundred percent comfortable trying to just walk over it. Maybe if it had been warmer than twenty-seven degrees out, I would have tried, but I really, really didn't want to fall into the creek right now. I looked around for other options.

I found a long branch up the way and retrieved it. This was the kind of stunt I'd have tried as a kid, and just like back then, it was either going to work, or get me badly hurt. 

I stepped onto the fallen tree. I place one end of the branch against the ground, using it as a walking stick to balance on the tree. I took a couple of steps forward, then moved the branch, bracing it against the ground. It worked---I stayed on the tree.

I moved forward, over the creek. I moved the branch a few feet, placing it in the creek. I was at the delicate part of this thing now. I pushed myself along, every few steps pulling the branch forward with me. With the branch bracing me, I made it across, finally letting go of it and jumping the last few feet to land, dry and unhurt and rather pleased with myself.

The round things were puffballs, a kind of edible fungus. I'd thought they might be. I'd seen a lot of them growing up, and even tried eating one once, but hadn't liked it much.  I knelt down and examined them.

A couple had small holes in them, or dents. One of them had what appeared to be deep claw marks. I tried to think of some sort of animal that would leave claw marks like that, and failed. Deer? No claws. Coyotes? No---meat eaters. Raccoons? Too small.

Something had been eating the puffball. I fished my camera out of the cryptid kit and snapped a photo of it. Then I pulled out my survival knife and sliced into it.

I was immediately treated to what looked like green smoke billowing out from the puffball. Spores. I drew back a bit; those could be poisonous. This thing was way past its prime; anything eating it would have had to have been here a couple of weeks ago.

Actually, around the time of the fire.

I took a few more photos, and then stood up and walked back up toward the house.

Tree tied to the car. All of our stuff gathered up. I went to find my brother, who was up in the pavilion.

I gave him a hug. "We're headed out. Got to make it home in time to put up the tree."

"Hey. You've been out here more often lately. Let's keep that up, okay?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I need to visit more. I'll find some more excuses to come back."

Out on the driveway, Paul was giving Nicholas a hug and saying goodbye. I stopped by Victoria and gave her a hug.

"Do you guys have any apps or anything, any way to keep Paul and Nicholas in touch? Paul would love that."

"We try to keep him away from screens," said Victoria. "How about just good old pen-pals?"

"That sounds great," I agreed. "Send me your address. I'll have Paul write some letters."

I walked up to the jeep, where everyone else was waiting. I climbed in.

"That was a pretty good trip," I said to Paul. "You got to go visit the farm, and play with your cousin for the first time in a while. He seemed to be having a good time with you, too."

"Yeah," he said. "Tomorrow can we decorate the tree?"

"I'd pretty much planned on that," I said. "How about Taco Bell for dinner tonight?"

Paul grinned.

"Yeah," he said.

"Sounds good," I said. "Let's get on the road."