Dance The Night Away: To Haunt A Home

I grabbed my bag and carried it out to the jeep. Shoved it into the back with Paul's costumes and Michelle's luggage, I went back inside, turned off lights, and locked the doors. Then I petted the dogs and went out to the vehicle, where my family was waiting. 

I got into the jeep.

And then we headed off for Utica.

This is a different kind of story.

"There's supposed to be a ghost around here," I said, turning on my EMF detector. "Town of Owega, New York. A Native American singer named Sa-sa-na Loft was killed by a train, and they say she still sings some nights." I glanced at the detector. I wasn't getting any readings yet.

"Did you hear about the theater we're in, Dad?" Paul asked.

"I checked it out. Why, you look it up?"

"Emma did. There's a cold spot trying to push people out of their seats in the front row, backstage and stage haunted, and the ladies' room is haunted."
"I hadn't heard about the ladies' room. Rylan, you can check that out."

Rylan, Paul's little friend, grinned and nodded at me from the back seat.

"We're going to check that all out," I said. "The Stanley Theater is almost a hundred years old, and it's said to be very haunted. If I get a chance, there's also a haunted high school near where we're staying. It was built on top of a Colonial cemetery."

"You know you can't go in the high school, right, Dad?"

"I know. The last time I went into a high school at one of these things, security was all over me. But I can check outside, which is where the ghosts are likely to be anyway." I looked down at my detector. It had flickered up to a 1.7 for no explainable reason, which was a good start to the weekend.

"Emma texted me," Paul said. "She wanted to know if we can come to the theater when we get there, and look for ghosts."

"I brought your equipment, too. We can."

The Stanley Theater, in downtown Utica, turned out to be a huge, beautiful place, very elaborate. The security guard stopped Michelle on the way in, and searched her bag. He asked,"Is there any outside food in here?"

"No," said Michelle.

I pulled off my shoulder bag and reluctantly handed it over. At least I didn't carry any food in it.

He started looking through it. His partner looked me over and said,"You're an investigator? I thought that there was some sort of communicator."

"You're close. EMF detector."

"Ah, cool." He glanced at the other guy. "He's okay." The guard handed me my bag back, and I slung it over my shoulder. "You looking for anything specific?"

"Well, whatever I can find. I'm sure you know there's stories about this place."

"Yeah, we get custodians overnight who say they see stuff. Haven't seen anything myself, but I don't work nights. Hope you find something."

"Thanks. You're a lot cooler than the last security guard I met at one of these things."

I walked inside. Paul and Rylan had already linked up with the Emma, and they were exploring the lobby. I got out the EMF detector and started looking around.

"Anything?" asked Rylan.

"Not yet. Place seems to have real good wiring. Which, good news and bad news. The bad news is, no readings yet. The good news is that if I do get something, I know it's probably paranormal."

Paul and the girls went upstairs to get something to eat. A woman asked them to slow down and walk carefully on the stairs, and I continued walking around with the detector for a while. Then I walked over to the woman.

"So I assume you work here?"

"Oh, yes, I have for eight years," she said pleasantly. "You're looking for ghosts?"

"I mean, I'm here because my son is in the competition, but yes,"

"My granddaughter is in the competition," she said. "It's why I agreed to have it here. And, yes, the place is almost a hundred years old, and people say it's haunted."

"Have you ever seen anything?"

"No, but some people have. We've had volunteers say they saw something up on the balcony."

"It's a beautiful old theater."

"Did you know the stairs over there are modeled on the Titanic's?"

"I didn't, but now that you tell me that, I can see it. That's really cool."

I found Paul and the girls upstairs. Paul had ordered a Caesar salad. I asked him,"You see anything?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"Well, we just got here. You excited for tomorrow?"

He nodded with a mouthful of salad. "I need to be here by seven, so we should get up at six."

"About my plan, too, yeah."

"And we'll need to steam my outfit for tomorrow."

"We will. I mean, your mom will. Gonna be a good day, buddy."

The place Michelle had gotten us was a nice little apartment with two bedrooms. One had three beds, and the other had one. Paul wanted to have his sleepover with Rylan, and Michelle agreed to take the third bed, leaving me to have the other room to myself, on the other side of the apartment. I didn't tell anyone, but I felt that was preferable.

It was, technically, in New Hartford, a small suburb of Utica. I'd checked the maps, and discovered that not only was it right on the New Hartford town limits, but the entire house wasn't even inside the line. The corner that had my room extended over the line and out of the municipality, so while everyone else was staying in New Hartford, I was sleeping in Oneida County.

I woke up in the morning before everyone else, which was about right. I got out of bed in my Bigfoot pajamas, and started making coffee. I took a mug and sat down by the window, looking out at the sunrise. It was going to be a busy morning.

Paul and I walked into the theater, and he immediately veered off to find his team. I found some of the prop dads talking with a few other parents in the lobby, and joined them.

"Any ghosts yet?" asked Jason, the leader of the prop dads.

"A few flickers on the EMF detector," I said. "Nothing too conclusive yet, but I got all my stuff. I'll be checking today."

"Do ghosts really hang out in cemeteries?"
"Some, it seems. Probably not as may as people think, but some."

One of the balloons decorating the lobby popped. Everyone jumped, and then a couple of the moms turned to me. "Lou!"

"I know. Probably just a balloon, but I'll check it out." I got out the EMF detector and walked over to the balloons. The place was well-wired, so nothing at first. Then I got a little bit of a jump, and said,"Yeah, maybe something here."

I walked upstairs and found Paul sitting at the table with Lilli. He said,"Dad, can you get me something to eat?"

"They're doing breakfast right now. They have bagels."

"A bagel, please. Butter."

"You got it."

As I walked across the upper level, some of the girls were practicing. There are always kids doing their dance moves all over the place at these events; I've learned to get good at dodging them. A few of them said,"Lou! Are there ghosts in here?"

"That's what they say," I said. "There's supposed to be some onstage, and backstage. So I need you guys to be my eyes and ears. If you see anything, you let me know."

"Cool," said Tall Addie.

Juliet looked over at the balcony. "I'm a little afraid of heights," she told me. "I get nervous up here."

"Well, it's a good thing you're so short."

I got Paul his bagel and walked back to the table with it. He took a bite from the edge. I pulled a chair over and sat down; I enjoy these moments I get with my kid. He said,"I hate these body tights."
"You're offstage in less than an hour," I said. "Hang in there."
The EMF detector went off. Spiking to red, it went to 2.0 for five solid seconds. Paul and I both looked at it. Lilli asked,"Was that....?"
"Yeah," I said. "Might have been a ghost."

"Don't forget to check for wires and outlets, Dad," advised Paul.

They grow up so fast.

"There is a house....Built out of stone...."

I stood backstage wth the prop dads, watching the kids dance on stage. It really was amazing. In between shows, I sometimes started to forget just how talented and professional these kids were. Watching them, it always came back to me just how incredible this whole thing was.

The EMF detector beeped. Red light. I looked at it, then turned it off and put it in my pouch. The ghosts, for a change, could wait five minutes. They were all dead and not going anywhere. I wanted to watch my son.

"Cause I built....A home....For you....For me....."

The routine was really cool; they started with some furniture onstage, and danced around it, assembling it as they went into an entire living room. I'd helped get the furniture out there, but I was really unneccessary. It was about them, the kids.

 The kids came off into the wings. Paul ran straight to me and threw his arms around me. He was crying. I hugged him back, tight. Pain? Stress? I didn't know, and it didn't matter. My son needed me.

"You're doing great," I whispered. "It's okay. I love you. You're doing great."

He held on for a moment. I asked,"Do you want to talk later?"

He shook his head, and I hugged him. "I love you, buddy. Proud of you. You're doing great."

After a moment, he released me and rejoined the team. The girls all gathered around and hugged Paul. They'd all been through backstage breakdowns before. He dried his tears, and then a moment later, was back out on stage with the others, all of them dancing their hearts out. Everything feels better when you're with your team; I understand that. It was beautiful. For the rest of my life, I'll cry every time I think of it.

I'm crying now.

This is a different kind of story. It's the story of my son, how he's still growing, becoming the person he will one day be. How in some ways, he'll be like his father, and in other ways, he'll be his own person. And that's a good thing.

Last year, this story ended with Paul and I sharing a moment on the lobby floor of a hotel in Lancaster, sitting peaceably together. 

This year, it ended with my morning coffee. I woke up earlier than everyone else again, and I walked across the county line to get a shower and get started. There are advantages to not sleeping well. I got dressed and made a pot of coffee, and sat down to begin the final day in Utica.

I walked around, got everything packed up, The temperatures had dropped and, unbelievably, it was snowing outside. I sat down and read a book for a while.

Paul emerged from the bedroom. Paul is not exactly famous for waking up in the morning. I looked up at him as he stumbled through the room, bleary-eyed, on his way to the bathroom.

"Love you, buddy," I said.

Sometimes it's all I really want to say.

"Love you, too," he said.

Sometimes, it's all I really need to hear.