Philadelphia Phantom

"How about in August, we go to Philadelphia?" Michelle asked me.

I looked up from dinner. "What's in Philadelphia? I mean, there's a lot of stuff, but what specifically this summer?"

"There's a Chinese lantern festival. I'd really like to see it. I know you've been to Philadelphia plenty of times before, but...."

"I was born near there. But that actually sounds pretty cool. Sure, if you want to, see if you can find us a place to stay." I turned to my laptop and did a search.

"Oh....Wow," I said.

"What?"

"It's very near Fairmount Park," I said. "I've been dying to get to Fairmount Park for years now. You know what's in Fairmount Park?"

"The Philosopher's Stone, kid," I said. "You know the Philosopher's Stone?"

Chloe nodded. "Sure I know the Philosopher's Stone!"
I'd invited Chloe out to Dunkin' Donuts for coffee and a fruity drink she was having. Chloe is a teenager about to start college, and the words "awesome kid" come readily to mind with her. She'd been coming on my tours for a few years, and had shown a strong interest in local history. We'd recently reconnected, and were hanging out and chatting.

"So there's this old legend down there, connected with some history," I explained. "The history part is that there were a group of monks living in Fairmount Park back in the seventeen hundreds. They lived in some caves down there. You can still apparently see the cave of their leader, Kelpius. He died there, but before he died....Here's the legend part...He gave his assistant, Geissler, a box of ancient magical artifacts."
I took a sip of my coffee. Chloe was listening intently.

"Kelpius wanted the artifacts thrown into Wissahickon Creek so that they never fell into the wrong hands. But according to the story, Geissler decided to preserve them for future generations. So he buried them somewhere beside the creek. Now, the magic part is also kind of plausible---The local farmers believed that these guys could do magic; when their crops failed or a cow got sick or something, they'd go to the monks. One of the artifacts that was said to be in their possession....And therefore buried....Is the Philosopher's Stone."

Chloe smiled. "So....."

"So someplace down in Philadelphia, buried, may be the Philosopher's Stone, or at least an item that the monks believed to be the Philosopher's Stone. I've been dying to go after this one for years. So when we go on vacation down there....Now's my chance."

"That's so cool," said Chloe. "I hope you find it."
"That brings me to a favor I wanted to ask you, kid," I said. "When I'm away, it kind of makes me feel better to have someone back home to talk to....A message or maybe a couple of phone calls. Would you mind being my lifeline while I'm away?"

"Oh, sure," said Chloe. "Feel free to message me. I'd love that."

"Great. I appreciate that. It always makes me feel a bit better to have someone to keep in touch with, you know?"
"I can understand it."

"I may be trying out a new paranormal uniform," I said. "I always wear a tactical vest when I'm investigating, because it has enough pockets for all my stuff. But lately....Well, honestly, I just look too much like an ICE agent."

Chloe made a face. "Yeah, you don't want that."

"No. I don't like the image, I don't want to scare anyone by accident. I've been wearing this thing for years now, but I look at photos of these guys and I cringe. So I'm thinking about a temporary change to the outfit."

"Have anything in mind?"
I grinned.

"I've been thinking of something a little more ninja."

"When I was a kid, Pipper, we used to come to Philadelphia," I said. "My dad would bring us; we lived not too far from here. I had some fun times here. Look! There's Boathouse Row!"

"That's cool, Dad," said Paul, sitting in the back of the Jeep. I looked at Boathouse Row, lined in white lights, as we passed along the Delaware River.

"There's a few haunted spots near where we're going to be," I said. "You want to check them out with me later?"

"Sure," said Paul. 

"We have the Chinese Lantern festival tomorrow night," said Michelle. "Should be at the apartment any minute."

"On our way out on Thursday, I'm going to look for the Philosopher's Stone," I said.

"Harry Potter already found that," said Paul. "I saw the movie like five times."

"This one was owned by a group of monks," I said. "They lived in Philadelphia."

We found our parking garage around the corner from the place Michelle had rented. There was a psychic shop on the corner as we passed by, offering tarot readings. Typically for Philadelphia, everything was tagged---The whole city is pretty much held together by spray paint.

"Look over there, Paul," I said. "That's the Delaware River. And across from there is New Jersey. We're on the very edge of the state here."

The apartment was a nice one, with a bedroom and kitchen area, and a living room with a pull-out couch. I dropped our stuff and dug out some of my maps and charts, sitting down at the desk for a while. Then I looked up at Paul.

"Want to go for a walk?" I asked him.

"Sure."

We came out of the building, and I was wearing my new uniform. 

I'd dropped the tactical vest. I'd always loved it, but I don't want to be dressing like the bad guys. So I'd spent some time redesigning my outfit.

I needed something functional that could be carried places, and would hold all my equipment. Something that stood out a little, but didn't mark me as too unusual. And after some work, I'd come up with it.

The fingerless gloves remained. I had a shoulder bag slung over my left shoulder, with a strap across my chest, bandolier-style. It had a couple of small pouches on the strap to hold my most important equipment. And I had a black hood, pulled down.

"What do you think, kid?" I asked. "This is the new outfit. I'm thinking I look like a ninja, or maybe Robin Hood or something."

Paul looked me over.

"Not bad," he decided. "But with the hood up, you look like a kidnapper."

'Not a ninja?"

"Kind of a ninja. But I'm definitely getting kidnapper vibes here. You're not going to wear the forest ranger jacket again, are you?"

"No, that was for Covid. I'm done with the forest ranger jacket."

"Okay. What happened to the skull gloves?"
"I traded them for these plain black ones. You like the skull gloves?"

"Yeah, I liked those."
"Maybe I'll re-add the skull gloves."

"There's a Seven-Eleven over there. Can I get a hot dog?"

"Yeah. I'll buy you a hot dog."

We walked peaceably down the street while Paul ate his hot dog. I was pointing out stores and things I remembered from Philadelphia when I was a kid. I saw a sign and said,"The Betsy Ross House! Do you want to see the Betsy Ross House?"

"Sure."

"Have you learned about Betsy Ross in school?"

"A little. Didn't she put nineteen stars on the flag because there were nineteen states?"

"Yeah, that's right. The house is said to be haunted, maybe Betsy Ross herself." I got my EMF detector out of the pocket, and turned it on. It didn't react for a minute, and then flared up to .14, and then back down. 

"Now, that's interesting. And now it's back to nothing. Yeah, kid, we may have a ghost here."

I sat at the small desk, maps spread out in front of me. I'd sent Chloe a message asking where Benjamin Franklin was supposed to be haunting. I was drinking coffee from the only mug that had been provided---The Airbnb people had left us ten coffee pods but one mug. Michelle came out of the bedroom.

"How's the kid?" I asked.

"Still asleep. Where are you off to?"
"Thought I'd take a walk, do a little exploring and investigating. There's plenty of haunted spots around."

"No Bigfoot this time?"

"You don't get a lot of Bigfoot sightings in downtown Philadelphia. I checked."

"How long are you going to be out?"

"Probably not too long. I promised Paul we'd take him shopping a bit later. I think he might like the Fashion District."

My cell phone blipped. I checked my messages---Chloe had answered my question: Independence Hal.

I smiled.

The kid had come through.

I walked through Philadelphia wearing the new uniform. Turning south, I went toward the City Tavern. It had been a meeting place of the Founding Fathers, when they'd wanted a beer, and if that was the catalyst I figured we should send a few cases over to the White House right now. It had burned down, but a reproduction had been rebuilt, and it was thought to be haunted by a bride who'd died in the fire.

The new outfit was working. It did what I needed it to do, and in the city, it didn't stand out excessively. In Lock Haven, where I was known, I could get away with a lot. I'd wondered about Philadelphia, but it wasn't attracting a whole lot of attention. I'd already passed like six guys with similar chest rigs.

I got to the City Tavern, which was right across from our parking garage. I pulled out the EMF detector and walked around the outside of the building. No readings initially, just like last night at the Betsy Ross House.

I found a small garden on the southwest side, and it didn't look exactly closed to the public, so I walked up into it. Pretty little place. As I walked across, I got a reading on the EMF detector---Just for a moment, and then it was gone.

I walked back and retraced my path twice, and I couldn't get it to come back again. No power lines. No lights. No reason that I could see for the flicker I'd gotten.

So, maybe a ghost. It made at least as much sense as the Philly Phanatic.

Philadelphia knows what it is. The city promotes its historic sites with the same intensity it pushes food trucks on the corner. I walked through the historic district with my EMF detector, reaching Independence Hall.

It's amazing to me, the way you can just....Be somewhere. Two hundred and forty-nine years ago, our entire country was created right here, just a few blocks from where we were staying. And here I was, in the same place that great men had walked. All you have to do is sit in a car forever, and you can just be there, in the same place they'd been. There's really something magical about it.

My EMF detector did it again---A spike, for a few seconds, and then a drop to zero. No reason for it. No lights or cables. I lowered it to the ground to test---Other places I did this routine, I'd attracted stares. In Philadelphia, I wasn't even close to the most unusual thing going on today. No readings, meaning that underground wires weren't causing the signal.

I smiled. I'd have to tell Chloe.

We walked through Franklin Park, looking at the Chinese Lantern festival. I had to admit, it was worth the trip. Elaborate, colorful Chinese lanterns were on display throughout the park, in a variety of shapes. My personal favorite was the bear.

We walked through a tunnel of lanterns, made to look like flowers with bees flying among them,

"Bees," I said. "Why did it have to be bees?"

"Can I get a hot dog?" asked Paul.

We sat at a table with hi shot dog, and he ate half in a single bite. Michelle smiled. "This is wonderful. I've always wanted to come to one of these things."

"I got to go shopping this morning," said Paul. "This is the best day ever!"

"My favorite part, buddy, was walking around the city with you," I told him.

I'd been on plenty of trips with the family. Me being me, I'd always had to have some sort of a side quest---I always tried to find out where the ghosts and cryptids were, have something to sneak off and go investigate. And more than once, I'd been so excited about the upcoming adventure that I'd almost missed the smaller moments.

It hadn't been like that, this time. I'd been enjoying all of it, every little stop along the way. I'd been having a good time with my kid, and not trying to leap forward to the next thing.

Maybe, finally in my fifties, I was learning to enjoy the moment.

"Well," I said,"All I need to do is find a Philosopher's Stone, and I'll be having a pretty good vacation, too."

I sat at the small desk, drinking coffee. Outside, the sun was rising over the Delaware River. I was wearing my black alien T-shirt. It was already looking to be a nice day.

Michelle came out of the bedroom. She said,"Is there still coffee?"

"Should be plenty. How's the kid?"

"Still asleep."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. I got all my stuff packed."

"We have to be out of here at ten. And he has dance tonight."

"We'll be headed home in plenty of time," I said. "I just want to hike out to the Cave of Kelpius, and then we'll be on our way."

"Hermit Lane," I said. "Pull in there. It's named after the hermits who lived here."

"Seriously?" asked Michelle.

"Oh yeah, really. Back around 1700, they were pretty big in the area. Look, there's a playground we can park in. Paul, you want to come with me, or stick around the playground?"

"I think I want to play," said Paul.

"Okay." I got out of the car. "I'll be back soon."

Wearing the new uniform, I walked through Wissahickon Park. I followed the trails listed on my map---I like working in a print shop; I can print off as many maps as I want. The park was a nice place, with a lot of forest area to explore. 

I came out of the forest in what appeared to be a backyard. An elaborate garden surrounded what appeared to be an old mansion. It could be the hermitage where the monks had lived, but it was equally possible that I'd gotten misdirected and stumbled into someone's private property.

No, it was the hermitage. I walked up the stone stairs alongside, and found another trail. After a moment to check the map again, I walked down into the woods.

After a while, the path split off to the right. I took the turn, and made my way along a winding footpath that led up and over a hill....And there it was.

The Cave of Kelpius.

I stopped to admire it for a moment. It reminded me of my father's root cellar, back on the farm. A small stone door built into the hillside sat next to a stone monument that explained who Kelpius had been. I took it all in, standing in the woods. I'd wanted to come explore this place for fifteen years....And now I was here.

I'd actually made it.

I stepped inside and looked around. The stone walls surrounded a dirt floor, a little bit smaller than Paul's bedroom. After a moment, I walked back out into the sunlight.

A path led down to the river. I followed it, and a few minutes later, came out beside Wissahickon Creek.

This was where Daniel Geissler had stood, and thrown artifacts into the water. Or buried them, depending on exactly which version of the legend you selected. 

I walked back and forth along the path for a moment. Then I stopped, and began to make a few concentric circles through the woods, walking with my EMF detector. At one point, I got a faint flicker, and I stopped there and looked around.

In one spot, there was a place where the grass was growing differently than the rest. For about a foot, the grass looked mangled, twisted.

Like there was something underneath it, affecting the way it grew.

I knelt down beside it. I pulled a trowel out of my pouch---I'd loaded the new outfit up with all sorts of useful stuff---And began digging.

About a foot and a half down, I found it.

Something was there. I wriggled it out of the ground. It was wrapped in a sort of waxy parchment paper that fell apart as I lifted it. And as the paper fell away, I saw it.

A stone.

It was roughly egg-shaped, golden and glittering. Like nothing I'd seen along the path. It sparkled in the sun as I held it up.

The Philosopher's Stone. The stone that Kelpius had believed to be the mystical one.

I slipped it into my pocket and stood up. I started walking back up the path. My family would be waiting.

"Well, I'm glad you had a good time in Philadelphia, Dad," said Tif.

She was finishing up dinner at the table. I was washing the dishes. I said,"Yeah, it was great. Did some exploring and some ghost hunting, Paul went shopping, Michelle got her Chinese lantern festival. We had a good time."

"Good."

"So, you want to see the new look?"

Tif's eyes lit up. "Yes!"
I walked out, and came back a minute later wearing the new uniform. She looked it over. "I like it."

"It does what I need it to do. It's functional, carries my stuff, and I've wanted a hood for years now. I think it's got kind of  a ninja look."

"I'm getting Robin Hood, for sure."

"Yeah, there's some Robin Hood in there, too."

"So how about the Philosopher's Stone? Did you find that?"

I grinned.

"Funny you should ask."

It ended the way it began---Having coffee with Chloe.

"So how was Philadelphia?" she asked me, sitting across from me in the little café on Main Street.

I smiled. "It was pretty amazing. We had a great time, saw a lot of cool stuff. We all got to do something we liked. Michelle got her Chinese lantern festival, Paul got to shop...."
Chloe grinned. "I can understand that."

"....And I got to hunt ghosts. By the way, thanks for helping out with that."

"Well, thanks for letting me. A lot of the time, people will say they might ask for help, but they don't. So it was nice that you followed through."

"Well, I really did need the help. And maybe you helped me find Benjamin Franklin's ghost." And I was pretty sure I'd also found a new partner.

She leaned across the table. "So, did you bring it?"

I brought out the Philosopher's Stone and showed her. "See? It sparkles. It was pretty much right where I expected it to be."
"That's really cool. I mean, what are the odds?"

"There's always an adventure out there, kid," I said.

Will Haunt For Food

Why did I agree to this?

"So, I called you because some spiritual things have been happening," the woman said. "It all started with the death of the pope. He's been coming to me at night and telling me that evil is coming into the world. It's spiritual, you know? And Phil Robertson, you know, the guy from Duck Dynasty? He says so, too."

I sat in the living room, listening to the woman tell her story. She'd come to visit me a couple of years ago, claiming to have photographs of ghosts and aliens, and telling some wild stories. I hadn't seen her since, but recently, she'd called me up with new paranormal claims, and asked for an appointment.

I probably hadn't helped my credibility by wearing the shirt that showed Bigfoot getting abducted. But at least she seemed to be sober this time.

"So I have all these pictures," she said. Which was true; she had several albums sitting on the coffee table. "If you look, they show you what I'm talking about. See, here, in this tree, you can see a unicorn. And in this one, see how you can see the devil? He's making a face, and here's his fist."

I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts.

"You keep saying 'spiritual'," I said. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea about what I do. I'm not a spiritual guy, the way a priest or rabbi would be. I'm more of a scientist. I do research and use equipment to try to find proof of the paranormal."
She looked at me.

"That sounds hard," she said.

"It has its moments."

"How much do you charge to remove a ghost?"
"I don't charge, and I encourage you to be suspicious of anyone who does. But as I said, I look for proof. There is so far no proof that ghosts exist, or that they can be removed. That's the sort of thing I investigate to find out."

"But what about my pictures?"
"Well, there's a psychological phenomenon called pareidolia," I said. "That's when you see some sort of pattern, and interpret it as something that makes sense. Sort of like those traffic signals that show you when to walk. They don't really look like people---Their heads aren't attached---But we interpret them that way. Something like that could be what's going on here."

"But what if that's what the devil wants you to think?"

"Well, again, it's all about the proof. There's no proof, yet, that the devil is actually real."

"Then who's making all these faces in my pictures?"

I tried hard not to sigh. "You should probably know that I investigated this building a couple of years ago. I didn't find any sign of a haunting, but I did find very high electromagnetic fields. Some people are very sensitive to them, and there was a family here at the time who was very disturbed by them." The thought of this clearly mentally ill woman living with some of the highest EMFs I'd ever seen made me cringe.

"So what should I do?"

Probably the best answer was to seek mental help, but I knew I'd never get that one through. I said,"You may want to consider talking to someone in the clergy. A priest, perhaps. They deal with this stuff on a different level than I do." And maybe someone from a church would be compassionate enough to try and get her some help.

She thought it over a moment. "So can you do some kind of exorcism, or what?"

And that's what happens, being a paranormal investigator. You get some amazing adventures, but you get a lot of the crazies, too. They seek you out, looking for some sort of validation. After a while, you develop a thick skin.

You get used to it.

I stopped in the doorway to the front office and leaned against the jamb. The new girl was sitting at Emily's desk, and her name was Sarah.

'Welcome," I said. I'd decided not to hate her for not being Emily. After some consideration, I'd decided that it probably wasn't her fault.

She smiled. "Thanks. Remind me, what was your name?"

"I'm Lou. It's okay, I'm bad with names sometimes too. So, important question for you....How do you feel about ghosts?"

I might as well jump right into it. I was already wearing my shirt that said My other dog is a Chupacabra.

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I like that stuff.  Is this place haunted?"

"Funny you should ask. We have a co-worker who shows up sometimes in spite of having been killed in 1962. Her name is Shirley."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah, back then we had a murder in the basement. The Hecht Building was a department store then. Come to think of it, the anniversary is coming up. It's August first. I might bring in some of my equipment and look around."

"That's right. Aren't you some sort of investigator?"

"I am. My son and I do investigations."

"Nice!"

"A bit later in the month, I think one of the teams is investigating a haunted Foodapalooza Buffet in Union County."

Sarah laughed. "A haunted Foodapalooza? I love that."

"One employee believes it's a dead relative. You can't exactly rule it out, but we'll have to be careful. I've had investigations where they want to believe it's their loved one so badly, they're not actually interested in hearing any results. This place was along a Native American path before it became farmland, which probably lasted until about 1926 when Highway Fifteen went through there."

"Well, that sounds interesting."

"I think we get free food, too."

August first.

I walked into the main office and set my stuff down. "Good morning, guys."

"Good morning, Lou," said Kelli. "The census book for the genealogical society is waiting back there for you to bind it."

"I'll make sure to get to it," I said. "Because it's the anniversary pf Shirley's death, I brought in my equipment. Look, here's the EMF detector....Sarah, you can have this one on your desk if you like."

Sarah looked it over. "Cool," she said.

"We get a certain amount of electrical impulses anyway, but it may spike to red," I said. "I have a couple of laser thermometers---Now that the bank changed hands and took the temperature off their sign across the street, we can use these anyway. Got my infrared scanner---This can actually get a photo; all you need to do is double-tap."

"Oh, that's really neat," said Sarah.

"Look, if I focus over there, I can see Kelli's body heat."

"That's cool. Where did you get this?"

"Amazon. Downside is, it was a hundred and forty bucks. The upside was, I really, really wanted one."

I walked down in my basement. I was wearing my rainbow ghost shirt, and the holster Tim had given me, with an EMF detector tucked in it. As I walked down the stairs, I pulled it out and turned it on.

It lit right up and shot up, beeping the whole way across the basement. I smiled.

"Well," I said,"Good morning, Shirley."

Most of the time, cleaning the porch is not particularly on my radar. I don't generally spend two minutes a month worrying about cleaning the porch. But, here I was, clearing out space and throwing out some stuff we hadn't touched. I figured I might need the space to spend some time investigating out there on the anniversary of Ida's death. So, if you want your spouses to clean the porch, it's important to make sure you have someone die there a hundred and twenty years previous.

"What are you doing?" asked Sekiya. Paul and the girls next door were bouncing around on the trampoline, and they were paying me some attention too. It's been a while since I was able to do yard work without an audience.

"I'm getting the porch cleaned off," I said. "Gonna do a little ghost hunting out here."

"Right now?"

"Nah, next week, on the anniversary of the death."

"He does this every year," commented Paul. "A few years ago, he got stung by bees, and I had to fix his arm."

"Can I have that?" little Mia asked as I picked up part of an old swing.

"I mean....It's broken and pretty much useless."

"What is it?"

"It's an old swing, pretty much broken. There's no real way to use it."
"But can I have it?"

"Mia...."

"Mia, Mom won't let you keep that," said Serina, the oldest.

I threw the swing into the garbage can, and followed up with an old box. "I figure I'll get the porch cleaned up, which it needs to be anyway, and then come out and do a little investigating out here. You guys are welcome to check it out with your own stuff, if you want."

I picked up the genealogical society's thick 1890 census book. Out of curiosity, I flipped to the Ys and looked up the Yost family. The ones who'd lived in my house.

I smiled, and carried the page out to the main office.

"Gonna make a copy of this for myself," I said.

"And what's that?" asked Kelli.

"It's the census page for the family in my house," I said. "They lived there in 1890. George Yost and his family. This tells me that the mom, Lydia, had parents who were born in Germany. And here's Ida, the ghost in my house, two years old at the time."

"You have a ghost?" asked Sarah.

"I do. Ida Yost killed herself on my back porch in 1905. Next week is the anniversary, actually. I usually do a little investigating around that time, see what I can find."

"Is this before or after the haunted buffet?"

"Few days after."

I stepped outside the back door, onto Mill Street. I looked across at the old Racket Store, the Great Island Presbyterian Church, Jordan's Alley. The sun shone on my face.

I've been pretty happy here.

It's been almost a year now, I've been working for this place, and I've been happy. I'm treated well, I have an entire basement to play with, and I have some pretty good co-workers.

I put my hands in my pockets, leaned against the wall, and I smiled.

Yeah. I like this job.

The Foodapalooza gave us a free meal, which was nice. We had unlimited access to the buffet, which is pretty much my idea of a great meal. The chili-lime meatballs were my favorite.

"Here, walk with me," said Tim, standing up from the table.

I got up, and the two biggest investigators in central Pennsylvania walked across the dining area of a Foodapalooza Steakhouse.

"I'm making you a new uniform shirt," said Tim. "I already have one for MIllie. Hope you don't mind; yours is going to be green. You get why."

I nodded. I got why. I was already wearing the black SPI uniform he'd given me in the past.

"We'll get started once they close and clean up," he said. "The hotel next door is haunted, too, and I'm hoping to get us in there at some point soon. In the meantime, we'll investigate this place tonight."

"Are there any hot spots?"

"Several. I'm going to send Millie and Ashlin to the kitchen, where they have the sound of pans banging. We'll have Vince, Devaughn, and Petey in the event room, where they get activity. They've had deaths in the restrooms---A heart attack and a suicide---So you'll stake those out."

I nodded. "I can do that. Been through suicide attempts myself."

"We've all been there," said Tim. "Some of the staff wants to stick around and help, so we're going to split them up among us."

"That works."

"I figure we'll stick it out until around ten. That should give us long enough."

"Yeah, that's cool, too. Paul found a trashed razor scooter someone was throwing out, and he was fixing it when I left. I told him I'd help him out when I got home."

"Okay. You have everything you need?"

"I brought my whole bag; I shouldn't have to pull from the team equipment. If that changes, I'll let you know."

The second I turned on my EMF detector, I got a flash.

That's not unusual, necessarily. Some buildings are wired that way, and they just bleed EMFs. But this one wasn't as easily explainable---I was standing in the middle of the room, not near any walls or wiring. And it shot up to a .48, which is pretty high. I looked up at the lights.

A couple of the staffers were sitting at a table nearby. I said,"Gonna do something you'd throw me out for otherwise," and I dragged over a baby chair.

As I began to climb up onto it, one of the waitresses asked,"Would you like a ladder?"

"Nah, this'll do. Been a while since I did anything really unsafe on an investigation."

I balanced on top of the chair and held the detector up, closer to the lights. Nothing, no reading. I was using the all-in-one, which is fairly sensitive. I climbed down, and again got a flicker in the middle of the room, about four feet up from the floor. No reason for that.

"We're already maybe getting some activity," I said.
Ashlin was carrying her pink Wicked bag with her equipment in it. I glanced at her.

"You know you make it harder for me to look badass when you carry stuff like that, right?"

She grinned. "I gotta be me."

"Let's get split up," said Tim. "Everyone get in their assigned areas."

I retreated to the restroom area and the lobby outside. I looked over the gumball machines for a moment. I was with two of the male staffers, both of whom had Tim's EMF detectors. Immediately, again, they lit up, the same as the lobby outside.

"See, that's possible activity," I said. "This place is more active than I'd really expected."

Tim called over from the event room. "Lou?"

I stepped out and we met in the lobby. "What's up?"
"I need you to check over in the buffet area with your infrared. We're getting some activity on the pod over there."

"I'm on it."

I'd set my bag on one of the tables earlier. I fished out my infrared detector and turned it on, and walked across the floor, scanning for heat. I moved it back and forth across the room, looking for anything unusual.

A pink blob jumped out on the bottom of the screen. There was something, maybe. This place was way better than I thought it'd be.

For the second time in a couple of days, I was in a good mood. I was doing what I loved, investigating, traveling with the best friends I'd ever had in my life.

How could I not feel content?

I suppose you could call it a tradition.

Ida Yost, at age seventeen, committed suicide on my back porch in 1905 by drinking carbolic acid. Most years, on the anniversary of her death, I'll go around the house or on the porch and do a little investigating. What the hell; I have access to a haunted house. Quality time between me and my ghost.

"You two have a good night," I said. "Get some sleep, okay? Don't be up all night."

Paul had his little friend Rylan over, and the two of them had curled up on the couch. Paul had wanted some sort of blanket fort to sleep in, so I'd brought a canopy in from the garage and set it up as best I could in the living room. A small lantern hung from the center.

"We'll go to sleep," promised Paul.

"We will," agreed Rylan, who I believed marginally more on this subject.

"I left you an EMF detector and a laser thermometer," I told them. "Just in case. You know what tonight is."

Paul nodded. "Happy deathday, Ida."

I turned on the EMF detector, and it went wild, beeping and giving me four red lights. After a moment, I turned it off.

"That's a good sign," I said. "Keep an eye on things."

I went to the kitchen, got a beer, and walked out onto the porch. I sat down and turned on my EMF detector. I cracked the beer and took a drink.

Five years ago, I'd done this same thing. I always found time to sit down on the porch where Ida had died. Five years ago, it had been the beginning months of Covid. I'd changed my uniform to avoid looking like the bad guys. At the time, I'd been pretty apprehensive.

Now....I was content for the moment. I was at peace.

I sat quietly on the porch.

After a moment, the EMF detector beeped.