Dance Dance Apparition: Part Two

"There's Bigfoot!" commented Michelle.

I looked out the car window. "He's enormous."

Along Interstate 80, there was a giant Bigfoot cutout. It had to be thirty feet tall. I was in the back with Paul, and Michelle and Tif were up front, on the way to the second round of dance competitions.

"We'll be staying where there's Bigfoot sightings," I said. "Near the hotel in Mercer, there have been sightings of a tan Bigfoot every ten years. It was 2005, then 2015, so we're right on time. The hotel is near an overpass, and cryptids love overpasses, so I figure I'll go and look."

"What is it with you and cryptids and overpasses?" asked Tif.

"Well, the Virginia Bunnyman---"

"Nope. Never mind."

"Then when we get to New Castle, there's a haunted mansion very near the competition. Also New Castle is the birthplace of Jack Cole, who created Plastic Man, so that's cool."

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

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

"Aargh."

"But we're coming up on the highest point on Eighty east of the Mississippi. Look, you don't want to miss that."

The hotel room was about typical. Two beds, a TV, a bathroom. I texted Emily while I sat at the desk, to let her know we'd arrived safe, and told her I was going to look for the light-colored Bigfoot.

Good luck, she sent back.

If I find him, I told her, I'll call him Blondie.

I'd  brought my cryptid vest, a packable fishing vest with all my equipment in it. I pulled it on and said,"Think I'll go out for a walk while it's still light out."

"Have fun," said Michelle.

I walked down the hall and through the lobby. I checked the rack; there were a couple of brochures available, but nothing too fascinating. There was a redheaded girl working the desk.

"Weird question," I said. "Do you know of any interesting haunted places around here, or Bigfoot sightings? Anything like that?"

I like to talk to locals when I can. Sometimes they give me a prize. Sometimes I know more about the area than they do. This turned out to be that second time.

She frowned. "No, nothing like that. This is a small place; there's just nothing like that around here."

"Okay. Thanks for trying."

I walked outside. It was a nice evening. I walked down to the overpass; Interstate 80 ran right over the highway, very near the hotel. No sign of Blondie Bigfoot, though. I walked back the other way, past the hotel and to a nearby swamp to the north.

I looked around. No prints or hair samples, but I noticed that everything was dry and light brown. This could explain about the tan Bigfoot, or whatever people were reporting: A light-colored creature would camouflage in this terrain better than a dark one.

When I got back to the hotel room, Paul was sitting on the bed with his cell phone. He said,"I'm sending a message to Rosie and Butters."

"They'll like that," I said.

He dialed the house number and waited until the machine picked up. Then he said,"Hey, Rosie. Hey, Butters. It's me, your best owner, AKA Paul. I miss you, I'd rather be home with you, but I have to be here. I have a dance competition. So I'll be home soon."

Dinner was the Mexican restaurant connected with the hotel. I looked over the menu and settled on the fiesta salad, which sounded healthy enough. Paul said,"There aren't any drinks on this menu."

"They're right here, on the front," I pointed out.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Okay if I order the kid a nonalcoholic margarita?" Tif asked.

"It's okay with me," I said.

"Any luck on your tan Bigfoot?" she asked me.

"Not really. We may still be too close to 80, though you can never tell. I did see why the local Bigfoot is light-colored; everything around here is dry and dead, which probably comes in waves as the area experiences droughts. So a light-colored Bigfoot, or whatever animal people are reporting, would camouflage better than a dark-colored one in this area, as opposed to, say, the middle of Cook Forest."

She looked at me. "Did you really just use weather studies to explain a Bigfoot?"

"I mean....You gotta have a general science background to really do it right."

Paul's strawberry margarita came. He sipped it, and smiled. "I like it!"

I was the first one up in the morning, which was usual when we traveled. Tif was asleep in a chair, and Paul was lying crossways on the bed. Paul rolls around in his sleep; the kid sleeps like he's running a marathon.

I walked down to the lobby to get a coffee. Drank a little while I sent Emily a message updating her. It always made me feel better to have someone back home to contact while I'm traveling. And Emily and I had gotten to be close friends; I was lucky to have her in my life.

I went out to the jeep to check on things; the trailer was down and ready, and the small stool we use for Tif to get in was in the back. Back inside, there was a dark-haired girl working the desk, and I asked her,"Do you know of any haunted spots around here, anything like that?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing I know of. I've never heard anything."
I sipped some coffee.

Sometimes it pays to check with the locals. Sometimes it doesn't.

"I got this, Dad. You can go," Paul said as we walked into the Scottish Rite building in New Castle. He immediately peeled off to join his friends.

"If you need me---" I called after him, and then dropped it because he was already out of range. He and his team, all dressed in their sparkly outfits, went running off wherever they go together.

Tif put her hand on my arm. "Let him go, Dad. He belongs to Team Edge now."

I saw Rachael, the owner of the dance studio, walking across the lobby, and I joined her. "Paul's here, so you know. He's been stressing out all week over his eye makeup."

She smiled. "Oh, he'll be fine."

"He's really thriving in dance class. He does soccer and basketball, too, but he seems to love dance the most."

"That's great," she said. "When the weather warms up, I'll be sure to bring the kids for a haunted tour."

"Think I might go and explore a haunted place right now, actually."

I walked outside and headed west. Two doors down from the Scottish Rite was the Foxfire Mansion, an 1890 building that as said to be haunted and built on a burial ground. I walked down to it, wearing my Rachael's Team Edge shirt and a green hoodie. Usually I'd be wearing my paranormal outfit, but I'd put on the shirt this time because of the competition. I'd done ghost-hunting in worse; last June it had been a light blue hospital gown once.

The mansion was even better than I'd expected. It was under repair, so some of the windows were boarded up, the front steps were cracked, and it was high up on a hill overlooking the city. 

I got out my EMF detector and walked around. It spiked in a couple of places. That was a good sign. I found a cold spot on the north side, and I checked that out for a while. I was a little dubious about the burial ground story; this far up on a hill wouldn't have been as likely. But the place seemed to be haunted. 

I found a spot that wasn't easily seen from the street, and got out a Plastic Man action figure. I could use that as a trigger object; this was about as close as I was going to come to a team-up with Plastic Man. I set an index card down, set the action figure on it, and traced around it with my pen. I could come back the next day and see if anything had disturbed it. Emily was going to love it.

"Dad, how do you get to the livestream for the competitions?" Paul asked, sitting on the hotel bed.

"What in our history together would make you think I'd know that?"

"I'll ask Mom. Can we go get a cup of tea in the lobby?" Paul asked. The kid loves hotels, but he's also easily bored. 

"Yeah, why not," I said. "Come on, let's walk on down and see if there's still any left."

We walked down the hall to the lobby. Paul made himself a cup of tea from the hot water there. There was a third employee working the desk this time, and I decided I had nothing to lose by rolling the dice again.

"Excuse me," I said. Paul watched calmly; he's seen all this before. "Do you know of any haunted places around here?"

"Well, this hotel is haunted," she said. "We get stuff happening here all the time."

Paul turned to me. "Can we take a walk and check?"

"We can. I usually have some equipment on me. The hotel does have kind of a Shining vibe."

We gathered up a couple of my EMF detectors and walked the halls. Paul was a little ahead of me---Probably looking for possible vending machines---And he heard my detector go off. He turned around.

"Was that?"
"A reading? Yeah. We got some EMFs in this area. Looks like the hotel might be haunted, after all."

It was pouring out the next day when I walked out of the Scottish Rite. I had an hour before Paul was on, so I walked down to the Foxfire Mansion again. On the corner, high up on the hill, I looked around.

An 1890 mansion. I checked with the EMF detector as I walked around to the back.

Plastic Man was still there, but he'd moved about an inch from where he'd been the day before. I took some more readings; this was good. The place was very likely haunted.

I walked back to the Scottish Rite, and met the other dads backstage. I'd volunteered to help move props around for the act, so I wound up shoving some stuff around the stage before the kids came on. And then the dance began, with the kids in their shiny costumes coming out....My son among them.

"Who's that girl....Watch that scene....Digging the dancing queen."

Paul lit up the stage. He was out there, dancing with his team, having a great time. And this....This was his part of the story. His much more than mine.

It was still raining afterward, when we went out to the car. Paul had changed from his costume into a new T-shirt advertising the dance competition. I said,"You did great, little man."

"Thanks," said Paul. 

Tif parked her chair and began walking toward the car door. She said,"Paul, you did great. I was really happy to see it. That was wonderful."
"Thanks," said Paul. "Where can we go eat?"

I rolled Tif's wheelchair up onto the trailer, and strapped it down. Tif was standing by the passenger side door.

"Where's the stool?" she asked.

I looked in the back, where the stool usually was. I began digging through the luggage. "I don't see it."

"Did we leave it in the parking lot of the hotel when I got in? Drive off and forget it?"
"Shit," I said with feeling.

"Did we really drive away and leave the stool sitting in a parking lot?" Michelle asked.

"I mean, I want to say no, but....It's not entirely implausible. We have to go back that way to get on 80; let's drive over and see if anyone found it. Either it'll be there or it won't. It's been six hours, but maybe we'll get lucky."

"If we can't find it," said Michelle,"We'll just have to buy a new one."

"I can get into the car if you help," said Tif.

We drove back up toward the hotel. As we pulled across the highway and into the lot, I said,"I see it!"

"You do not," said Michelle.

"No, I really---"

"Oh my god, there it is!" said Tif.

We all began laughing. The stool was sitting there, right where we'd left it six hours ago. Nobody had even noticed it there, the whole day.

I got out of the jeep, held up the stool triumphantly, and then put it in the back. I got back in the jeep, beside Paul, and we headed home. Michelle drove us up onto Interstate 80 going east.

I looked over at my son.

"Proud of you, little man," I said.

Paul smiled.

"Thanks, Dad."

Dance Dance Apparition: Part One

"Paul has his dance competitions coming up," I said. "It runs for like four straight weeks. We have weekends in Lancaster, New Castle, and the Lancaster again. Thanks for printing out the maps and schedules."

I was making notepads for a Sugar Valley store. Emily was hanging out with me in my work area, and we were talking, as we often do.

"No problem, Lou," she said. "Glad to help out."

"Well, you can help out a bit more," I said. "I'll probably be sending you a few messages while I'm there. You're under no obligation to respond, or keep an eye on your phone, or whatever. But I like to feel like I'm connected; like there's someone at home to message."

She nodded. "That's understandable."

"So you're my lifeline, Em."

Emily grinned. "Happy to be your lifeline, Lou."

"If I get a chance, I'm gonna get out exploring," I said. "Lancaster is America's oldest inland city; there's gotta be a few ghosts. I found a legend of a ghost stagecoach that rides through there, and a walking statue in a cemetery. And my friend Kevin sent me an article about a water cryptid down there, and I might look into that."
"Yeah, I printed the article out for you."

"Yeah, thanks for that, too."

"You're a good dad," she said. "I can't imagine Lou without Paul."

I smiled.

"I was there at the time," I said,"And I can't, either."

When we got to the apartment in Lancaster, Paul did what he usually does---Inspected the place thoroughly, checking for traps, cameras, and secret doors. I don't know where he gets this stuff.

"This is nice," commented Michelle.

"Nicer than our place," I agreed. 

She looked in the kitchen. "They have a sign up saying not to drink the water."

"I wonder why."

"I don't know. They have jugs in the fridge that we can use for drinking."

"Probably something like my dad's place," I said,"Where there's a lot of sulphur in the ground and you can taste it in the water."

"Your dad has well water."

"My dad has not-so-well water."

I walked around a bit. The apartment was set up in a way that you could walk all the way around in a square, with the living room, kitchen, and bedroom along the route. There was a big bookshelf in one corner, and I looked it over. It seemed to be mainly religious and Republican works, which I wasn't so interested in. One book caught my eye, and I removed it to look it over.

It was a small paperback spell book. It looked like it had been left by a previous tenant. Black cover, white title: Der Langer Verborgener Freund. Written by a man who'd lived in Lancaster. Inside was a bunch of spells for health, luck, crime prevention, and so on.

Paul rounded the corner and came in. "When do we eat? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"I'm growing."

"We can go now, and hit the buffet. I could eat something, too."

"So, you enjoying the buffet, little man?" I asked.

"Bet!" Paul said enthusiastically. "I love this! I'm going to go back for ten more plates!"

Paul loved the buffet; he went back for several slices of pizza and some hamburgers. He'd also managed about $3.50 worth of dessert items. I enjoyed it myself; I started with a salad and then moved on to the steak and seafood. Doesn't take me too long to get my money's worth.

The waitress stopped and looked at my shirt. "Are you really a paranormal investigator?" she asked.

I had the black shirt that said "Paranormal Investigator" on it. I looked down at myself for a moment. "I really am."
"No way!"

"Oh, sure." I gave her one of my cards. "Mostly up around Clinton County, but we're in town for a dance competition."

"That's so cool! There's plenty of haunted places around here. Have you heard about the cemetery?"

"I have; gonna try that if I get a chance."

"That's neat. I hope you find something." She moved off to gather plates.

I said to Michelle,"I forgot I was wearing this one."

Paul's first dance was "Respect." We had to get up way too early in the morning to get him to the hotel, which was the largest hotel I'd ever seen. After a while, we figured out where his dressing room was, and at his insistence, I left him there. A little while later, his friends from the team showed up, and he gathered with them.

I watched them run around the lobby and the ballrooms for a while, in the company of two of the moms. One of them looked into the crowd of kids, and said,"There's mine. I can spot the red hair."

"Yeah," I said,"Paul stands out in a crowd, too."

The other mom said,"Mine looks exactly like all the rest of them."

"Don't worry. As long as she stays with the other two, she'll be fine."

We watched the kids until it was time to go on. They got up onstage, and did their dance.

Paul's team. His people; the ones he was happy with. This was his thing. I had Millie, Ashlin, and Tim, and he had his dance group. They finished their dance and left the stage.

The announcer came out to give out the awards. 

"Second place....Team Edge! Respect!"

Paul walked up to receive the award.

That's my boy.

One thing about dance competitions; they wear the kid out. After the dance, we went back to the apartment and he collapsed on the couch for a while.

I went to the bedroom and changed into my LHPS uniform. I put on one of my vests---The travel model with the logo on it---And slung a pouch of equipment over my shoulder. I sent a message to Emily letting her know how things were going, and told Michelle,"I'm gonna go out for a walk."

"Have fun." Michelle was concentrating on a game on her cell phone.

I went outside. I wanted to get a water sample from Mill Creek, and check on the Sea Dog, the water cryptid from 1885. The Sea Dog had been spotted in the Susquehanna, but Mill Creek came off of the Susquehanna, so it was all the same water.

The creek was closer than I'd expected. I walked down a fairly steep slope, across the lawn, and was there. I walked around for a while, looking for a good place to go down and get some water. I found a short slope where I could walk down and collect some, and I got a sample container out of my bag, walked down, and dipped some water out.

I climbed back up to the grass, and there were geese.

Goddamn it. Geese. I'd dealt with these bastards before, showing up to bully me when I tried to get a water sample. There were several of them, all coming toward me and acting all badass.

I turned and ran. There was no way I was going to take on a bunch of geese in hand-to-hand combat. They chased me across the grass. I stopped and lifted the corners of my vest, making myself look bigger and more threatening. They weren't really intimidated. I ran back up the hill, and they decided I wasn't worth the trouble.

When I got back to the patio, Paul was waiting there. "They have a sign up that you're not supposed to go down there, I think," he said.

"Also some vicious guard geese. Let's not tell your mother. Want to help me run a litmus test on this water sample?"
"Sure."

We walked inside and dipped a piece of litmus paper in the water. "Seven," said Paul.

"You guys should test the faucet water," said Michelle. "See why we can't drink it."

"That's not a bad idea," I admitted. We tried the faucet water, and the paper immediately turned a deep green.

"That looks like a nine," commented Paul.

"It wouldn't support much life," I said. "Too acidic. No wonder we can't drink it; we'd be better off just sucking water out of the creek."

"Are you guys hungry?" Michelle asked. "I know you wanted to check out that place where they're having the cryptid festival in June, and there was that cemetery...."

"Lancaster Cemetery," I said. "We can check that out before dinner."

"Her name was Augusta Bitner," I said. "There are a couple of different stories, but they all seem to involve her dying in some sort of accident or illness while she was engaged. She was buried in Lancaster Cemetery, with a statue of her there. According to the stories, the statue comes to life and walks around at night."

"Do I have to not blink?" Michelle asked.

"I think it's not until sundown. Turn here."

Lancaster Cemetery is nice. Not the most elaborate I've ever seen, but pretty. It's not Erie Cemetery, but it's not Stech-Simcox, either. We stopped at a roundabout in the cemetery.

"I think it's that way," I said. "North."

"That's just a grass path," said Michelle. "I don't want to drive down there."

"I'll walk it, and check it out."

I could see the statue as I approached from a distance; it was easy to find and only about fifty feet away. I pulled out my EMF detector and checked---No readings at all. I stopped at the statue, looking it over. It was a girl, about six feet tall, with a pillar next to her. It had her name, the dates of birth and death, and a phrase: "Could love have kept her?"

There was a small pile of coins on the base of the statue, probably a couple of dollars. A couple of other trinkets---Keychains, a plastic coin, a small plastic heart. I dropped a penny on the pile.

I waved toward the jeep, trying to signal Paul and Michelle. Nothing. I waved both arms over my head, and nothing continued to happen. Probably both staring at their goddamn cell phones. I walked back to the van and opened the door.

"I found it," I said. Both of them were looking at their phones. "You want to see it?"

"I'll wait here," said Paul. "I'm wearing shorts, and it's cold out."

"I'll come," said Michelle.

So we walked back to the statue.

"Is it really haunted?" Michelle asked.

"Probably not," I said. "I'm not getting any readings. But this thing gets lots of attention." I pointed to the pile of coins and trinkets. "This is probably within the past week; I'm betting the cemetery association clears this up all the time. So people come to visit, and they tell stories. And it's because of that."

I pointed to the phrase: "Could love have kept her?"

"That's dramatic," I said. "It's memorable, and it suggests a story. People see that and want to talk about it. She died in 1906. That phrase, right there, is exactly what's kept the legends going for the last century or so. That's what makes people tell stories about the statue."

"Getting late, little guy," I said to Paul. "You have another big day tomorrow. Time to finish your tea and get to bed."

He nodded. He was sitting at the counter, drinking a cup of tea I'd made him and watching videos on his cell phone. "I like a little noise," he said. "It helps me sleep."

"Not sure that's how I've always experienced it," I said,"But okay." I sat down with him. "You did good today, buddy. Your whole team did."

"I like competition dance," he said. "I'm glad I signed up for it. I really like it."

I smiled.

"I'm glad," I said. "You do seem to be getting a lot out of it."
"It's fun," he said. "Doing all this stuff with Team Edge."

I nodded. I know how it goes, being part of a team. I have Millie, Tim, and Ashlin; Paul has Willow, Josie, Juliet, Tall Addie, Short Addie, Lili, Sophia, and all the others whose names I don't bother to memorize. 

He thrives in dance class; since signing him up during COVID, I'd seen him come a long way. He'd really grown into it. I had my things. This was his.

"I'm proud of you, buddy," I said. "That's my boy."