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.

Dance Dance Apparition: Part Three

"There it is," I said. "Up ahead, on the left. There's the bus."

Back in Lancaster. Paul had one more dance competition, and this was the big one. Michelle was driving, with Paul and his best friend Rylan in the back. She pulled into the driveway of the farmhouse, and past the barn, and three dogs came running out to greet us.

There was a big Irish setter, a mutt, and a tiny spaniel. Michelle said,"I hope they don't get in the way of the jeep."

"They're my new best friends," I said,"And I would die for them." And I got out of the jeep.

They ran over, and sniffed me, and I petted them all. Paul and Rylan followed a moment later, and petted them. The little one was the friendliest, and kept snuggling up to me for more attention. After a while, I was able to tear myself away from the dogs, and unload the luggage. I put it in the bus.

Michelle had booked us a refurbished bus to stay in. The old school bus had been made over into almost a cottage, with beds, sofas, and a little kitchen. I walked around the place a little bit, checking things out.

"Good. There's coffee." I held up the salt shaker. "Hey, Paul. Check this out."

Paul looked up. "Pink salt?" he said. "What is wrong with people?"

The kids were bouncing on the sofas when I got all the luggage unpacked, and I sat down at the desk.

"We have to get up at seven to get you to the hotel on time," I told Paul. "The hotel where you're dancing tomorrow was built basically with two historic buildings inside it. One of them was owned by Thaddeus Stevens, who helped amend the Constitution. It may have been on the Underground Railroad."

"Slay," said Paul.

"They're old buildings. I hear they might be haunted. You want to do some investigating, if we get a chance?"

"Sure," said Paul.

"Yes," said Rylan.

"I have some of the equipment with me," I said. "I'll bring it along in case you get a moment in between acts."

It was early morning when we got to the hotel, and raining. The hotel was gigantic. We walked in from the parking garage. I was wearing my Rachael's Dance Unlimited shirt, and my LHPS hoodie. I'd investigated in worse. The bus was close quarters and there wasn't much of a shower, so I'd skipped shaving, but it wasn't too noticeable yet. I have the facial hair of an eight-year-old girl. I'd brought my small sling pack, with a few pieces of equipment and my phone in it.

"There's my team," Paul said. "See you guys later!"

He took off to be with the other kids. Michelle said,"I'm going to find the stage and get some seats. You gonna look around?"

"Yeah,  figure so," I said. "Paul's already disappeared, so I guess I just have to trust him to get onstage when he needs to."
"He's done okay so far."

"I'm not exactly used to assuming the ten-year-old is on top of the situation."

I walked down into the lobby. Immediately, I stopped and gasped.

"My god...."

The lobby was big. It had a house in it.

The William Montgomery House had been there since 1804. The hotel had been built right there, basically incorporating the house. It rose up through three floors, across from the balconies, with a curved back wall and wonderful windows. My jaw dropped. A historic building, right inside the lobby of a modern hotel.

I sat down on the steps and took a moment to message Emily, back home.

Two historic buildings are part of this hotel, and it's so beautiful I could cry!

She responded a moment later.

Holy crap I really slept in today, maybe that's a good thing I needed it! That is literally the perfect spot for you Lou I'm excited to see the pictures!

I stood up and got out my EMF detector.

I walked around the Montgomery House for a little while, taking readings. There wasn't much, but it was early yet. I walked all the way down to the other end of the lobby, and down the stairs, and I found the Thaddeus Stevens House there.

That was under repair and locked off, but I walked around the area and took some EMF readings there, too. This house had been part of the Underground Railroad. It was a part of American history....And I was here.

I took some photos, checked the EMF detector, and switched it to temperature. There wasn't much point in trying an audio recording; interference from the dance competition and the kids running around would invalidate anything I found. I decided to go out and score some coffee. 

I walked out into the street. Lancaster. America's oldest inland city. It's always amazed me, how many places there are to be, how many opportunities there are to get to them.

I was leaving the coffee shop when I spotted Kira, from the Economic Partnership.

"Hey! Kira! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know. I have boys, so I have to come along with a friend and enjoy her daughter vicariously. How's everything going?"

"Pretty good. You see how they built the hotel to preserve two historic homes? I'm so jealous I could spit. I would love to see that sort of emphasis on preservation in Lock Haven."

"Yeah, me, too. Think they're haunted?"
"Don't think I didn't bring along some of my equipment."

Back in the lobby, I found Amanda and Carri sitting and talking. Their daughters were in Paul's class. Another woman was with them. I sat down and joined them.

"How's it going, you guys?"

"Exhausted," said Amanda. "We had to get up early and drive in this morning."

"That's right; I forgot you'd told me that. We slept in a bus last night."

Paul and Juliet, Amanda's daughter, came running over. They had handfuls of candy.

"We got some candy!" said Paul.

"Where'd you get that?"
"An old man gave it to us!"

"Jesus christ, child."

"He was handing it out at a booth," Paul said. "He works for the hotel."

"Well, you could have led with that."
Little Juliet was studying my hoodie. "Are you looking for ghosts?"

"Well, I'm trying."

"Could I do that? Could you come to the hotel tonight and show me?"
"I don't see why not," I agreed.

"Can Addie come, too?"

"If it's okay with her mom."

"Fine with me," said Carri.

"Can I get in on this?" asked the other woman.

"Why not? Will your kid be coming?"
"I'm Juliet's grandmother. Amanda's my kid."

"Oh, well, then, I guess she'll be there. How about seven-ish? We can check out the old parts of the place."

"Sounds good," said Amanda.

"Juliet," I said,"Welcome to the Ghost Gang."

"Yay!" said Juliet.

With a few hours in between Paul's performance and our return for an investigation, we went back to the bus. I walked outside---It was still chilly and rainy, but I wanted to see if the dogs were around, and maybe a ghost or two. 

Out by the road, I found the Irish setter running around with something in his mouth. He sat down on the grass and began happily chewing on it. He was followed, a moment later, by an old woman walking two ponies down the road and back to the property.

"That's something I don't see much back where I'm from," I said.

She smiled. "Ponies in the street where they shouldn't be?"
"Yeah, we don't get that much back in Lock Haven."

"The young one escapes sometimes. I'm putting them back in the barn."

I saw Paul come racing excitedly out of the bus, followed a moment later by Rylan. I said,"Oh, my son and his friend are coming. Would you mind....?"
"Of course not," she said. She handed me the reins to the little one. "Here, you can hold him."

Paul and Rylan ran up to the ponies. Paul said,"Ponies! They are so cool! I didn't think they were real!"

"Wait....Did you not know ponies exist?" My kid deals routinely with Sasquatches, water cryptids, and Squonks, but wasn't aware of ponies.

They petted the ponies. The woman said,"Would you like to give them some treats?"

"Yeah!"
She handed them some small pony treats. "Set them in your hand, and hold it our flat like this."

The kids followed her instructions, and fed the ponies several treats, to the delight of both the kids and the ponies. The woman said,"Would you like to brush them?"

Paul's eyes lit up. "Yeah!"

She handed them two brushes. "Here, you can brush them while I clean their hooves."

The kids happily brushed the ponies, who were very patient about the whole thing. I said,"You having a good time, little man?"

"This is so cool," he said.

"We're here," I announced as we walked into the hotel's waiting area. "Finally found parking."

Amanda and Carri were waiting with a couple of drinks. I was tempted to join them, but I never drink on investigations. Juliet and Addie hugged Paul, who was right behind me with Rylan.

"Are we going to hunt ghosts now?" Juliet asked.

"We are," I said. "I brought some of my equipment. Let's go down to the other end; we'll have less interference down there and the whole place pretty much to ourselves."

As we walked down, Carri asked me,"So how long have you been doing this?"

"Long time. Almost twenty years, officially."

"What was the first haunting you ever really found?"

"First one I debunked was on our honeymoon. A sighting at a covered bridge turned out to be just the grain of the wood, which looked like a face. The first one I recall really finding was my own house; a young girl killed herself there back in 1905."

"And how do you figure out who the ghost might be?" She sipped at her drink.

"I look at the deeds and other documents, and then check the newspaper archives," I explained. "You can get a good sense of who lived in the house, and died there."

"What if it was someone who didn't live there? Say, a favorite niece, who had good memories of the place?"

"That happens. Usually you can figure that out through newspaper archives, too---The obits can give you an idea of family and friends, at least get you started."

We got down to the lower lobby, where the Thaddeus Stevens House was connected. I said,"Okay, we can't go in the old house because it's under repair. But that's a good thing; repairs tend to stir up ghosts. Now, this here is an EMF detector. It detects electricity and magnetism, but when there's no reason for those, it can also detect ghosts."

I passed the all-in-one to Juliet, and the little one to Addie. Paul and Rylan were very casual about the whole thing; they're used to this. I continued,"This here is a digital recorder. We use this to ask questions, and maybe get some sort of voice on tape. I've had that happen before. Everyone get comfortable---We're going to do an EVP session; electronic voice phenomena. We'll go around and say our names, then record ourselves asking questions to see if we can get any voices. We have some interference in the background, but sometimes you'll have that."

I turned on the recorder, and we did a few minutes of talking to potential ghosts. I was rather impressed with the kids; they paid attention for several minutes, which is longer than kids usually last during those things. Finally I clicked off the recorder and said,"Okay. I'll review that later. You guys check out the place with the EMF detectors and let's see if we can find anything."

They headed out, with Paul and Rylan supervising Juliet and Addie. I watched as they walked around the lobby area, using the EMF detectors correctly. Addie's went off, beeping and spiking to red for a moment.

I said,"There you go. Look, no outlets, no cords. Looks like you may have detected a ghost."

She smiled. "The ghost likes me."

I smiled back. "I bet he does."

"Small coffee, please."

I was in the hotel's Starbucks. There's always a Starbucks; they're easier to find than fake UFO sightings. I took my black coffee and stepped outside, looking out at the rising sun over Lancaster.

I never really saw moments like this coming when we'd adopted a baby. "Hunting ghosts with my son's dance team" was never on my radar. But of all the unpredictable weirdness that my life had somehow become, it was worth it.

It had been a hectic few weeks. We'd been busy, we'd been exhausted. We'd had some adventures, Paul and I. I was a bit relieved that it was almost over.....But I was also going to miss it.

I finished my coffee and went inside. 

I found Paul in the lobby, polishing off a plate of chicken tenders and fries. He was sitting up against the wall. I sat down next to him.

"How you doing, little man?"

"Fine."

"You need anything?"

"I needed chicken tenders. But Mom got them for me."

I nodded. "You guys did really good this weekend. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad."

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, my son and I. Then he said,"You know why I hate going to school every morning? Because I have to leave you. I miss you when I'm at school."

"You have to get an education, kiddo," I told him. "But I miss you, too. When I see you get on the bus to leave....That's the worst part of my day. And the best part is when you get back."

"Okay," he said.

"We have next weekend off," I said. "Let's do something together, you and me."

"Sounds good," said Paul.

Outside the windows, the sun was coming up over the skyline.

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,"Hi, Rosie. Hi, Butters. How you guys doing? It's me, your best owner, AKA Paul. And I just want to send you a preppy message saying that I would rather be with you guys, but I have a dance competition, so I have to be here, and I miss you very much, and I can't wait to come home, because I would rather be in my bed at home, but I kinda have to stay here. So, bye!"

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."

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."

Long Way Home

NO PARANORMAL INVESTIGATIONS, the sign said.

"So," the woman asked me,"Are you a paranormal investigator? Or some kind of writer?"

"Both, actually," I admitted. "How did you know?"

"Well, you have an alien on your shirt. And your belt. And skulls on your sneakers."

"It's maybe possible that I overdo it."

My name is Lou. I'm a writer, historian, tour guide, volunteer, and explorer, but mostly I'm a paranormal investigator. I've been doing it for a while now, and I've pretty much reached the point in my career where I can ask someone if they've recently seen the Mothman with a straight face.

I was waiting to go on a tour of the old haunted jail in Jim Thorpe. My wife, my son, and his little friend were whitewater rafting the Lehigh River. I'm not much for the water, so I'd agreed to hang out in Jim Thorpe for a few hours before they picked me up and we headed off to my family's farm in Slatington.

The jail was known to be haunted, but they were a little touchy about photos an investigations. My plan was to essentially sneak an investigation in during the tour. I'd done dumber stuff.

The tour guide was maybe fourteen, and his name was Alex. 

Jim Thorpe jail is known for a handprint in one of the cells. According to the story, a prisoner put it there before he was hanged, and it's never come off. Now, I am cynical enough to picture a staff member with a sharpie putting the handprint back after hours, but I figured it was worth checking.

"The handprint is in cell seventeen," Alex announced. "Please feel free to look around, but no photographs or investigations."

Everyone in the group---I was with about twenty people---Wandered around the first floor of the jail. I slid my all-in-one out of my jacket pocket and flipped it on.

The device is an EMF detector and a thermometer, which saves me from carrying around a lot of equipment, but it looks like just about nay nondescript electronic. It could be anything, which is convenient. I walked around, checking for EMFs.

Nothing. I switched it over to the thermometer setting, and immediately got a cold spot. I grinned.

There we go. And the employees never had to know.

"So you're a tour guide," the guy said.

I nodded. "Tour guide, writer, investigator."

I was sitting in a bar in Jim Thorpe, having a beer to kill some time until the family arrived. I'd been joined by a nice enough guy who'd struck up a conversation, and we'd been chatting for a few minutes.

"My wife would love that," he said. "She goes out with some of her friends, and they do all sorts of haunted stuff. You have a website or something?"
I handed him my card. "Have her e-mail me. We'll set up a tour."

"Hey, that's great!"

My cell phone rang. It was Michelle.

"We're on our way."
"I'll be in position," I said.

I walked down to Hazard Square, where ten minutes later, the Jeep pulled up and I climbed in. "Everyone have a good time?"

"Yeah!" said Paul, my son, in the back.

"How about you, honey?" Michelle asked. "How was your day?"

"Not bad. Toured a haunted jail." I turned to Paul and his friend Rylan in the back seat. "You guys want to help me look into aliens tonight? There have been some UFO sightings out there. They had a CE-3-D on the Hynek Scale. Someone reported seeing a little black creature they thought was an alien running around after a UFO sighting."

"How did they know it was an alien?" Paul asked. "It could have been a raccoon."

"That's what we'll try to find out. Uncle Jon wants to know if you'd like to learn how to drive the gator while you're there."

Paul lit up. "Yeah!"
"He says he might teach you how to use a chainsaw, too."
"I've seen chainsaws," Paul said,"But only in videogames. I've never seen one in real life."

"Well, Uncle Jon may show you how it works."

I pulled the tent from the Jeep and got it set up. My brother watched with some amusement. I said,"We've had this tent since before we were married. Best tent I've ever owned. It's getting old, but I keep trying to get one more summer out of it."

"Looks like a good one," Jon said. "It goes up nice and easy. You gonna do some ghost-hunting while you're here?"

"Thought I'd look into UFOs, actually. There's been a sighting. Someone saw a small black creature."

"Could have been a fisher."

"Coulda been. I'll look into that."

"You should check out the springhouse while you're here. I was wondering if it was haunted."

"Might be. Got something happening down there?"

"Well, a really bad feeling. A few noises. But it's old, you know that."

"I'll check into it while I'm here."

"Don't go too far in, though. I don't trust that floor, and I don't want anyone getting hurt."

"Been getting bad for years. Want to see some of my equipment?"

"Sure."

Paul was in the grass, playing with Miles, the family beagle. We were near the line of maple trees by the driveway. A leaf came fluttering down, and he reached out and grabbed, almost catching it. It bounced off his hand and fell to the grass.

"Amy says there's magic in falling leaves," he told me. "If you can catch one, it brings that magic to you and means good fortune."

I got out my hard briefcase and opened it up. "Here's my rifle microphone. Michelle caught the kids out in the backyard with it a while back, listening for the ice cream truck. Which is a legitimate use of the rifle microphone. Here's the night vision binoculars."

Jon tried them. "Not bad."
"They're not true night vision---It operates on a green laser light. But good enough for my purposes. Here's the thermal imager. You can see heat signatures with this."

"Hey, that'd be good to test on the beehives."

"Maybe later we can, if you'd like. You want to join me and the kids when we look for UFOs?"

"If I'm taking the dogs out and I see you guys out there, I'll catch up."

"That works." I pulled on my vest. "Usually I have the big bulletproof tac vest, but this is the travel model. Easier to pack."

"Vest light."

I walked out the back door and across the yard in the dark. It brought back memories---All the times I'd snuck out of the house at night as a teenager. I'd done it a million times, slipping out to have some adventure in the middle of the night.

I walked up the road. I had a flashlight, but I didn't really need it---The moon was almost full, and I was guided by a childhood of memories. I knew every step, and it didn't take much before it all came back to me.

I'd done this the night I'd tried to commit suicide. January 13, 1986. I'd wanted to kill myself, but then decided to live, for the people I'd cared about. And I'd slipped out of the house, gone looking for a ghost, and managed to help an abused girl.

At the top of the hill, I looked around. I got out the binoculars and turned on the night vision, scouting the area. Trees, mostly. I saw the Big Dipper, bright in the sky. I'd gotten used to the lights of Lock Haven---It was darker out here, making the stars more visible. I saw a plane.

There was a bright light to the north, moving across the sky. I couldn't identify it offhand. I watched it for a while, moving east. Then I heard something behind me.

It was in the woods across the road, something moving back there. I turned on my flashlight, but couldn't see it. I moved toward it, but it crept away, disappearing into the woods.

Paul and Rylan were in the living room. Rylan was already asleep on one couch, and Paul was watching TV on the other.

"Find anything?" he asked me.

"Maybe an animal in the woods. I think the alien someone saw was probably an animal---There's certainly enough of them out there."

"Maybe in the morning I'll go with you."

"We can check the springhouse for ghosts. Uncle Jon thinks it might be haunted."

"Cool. Will you watch Harry Potter with me before bed?"

"Sure." I sat down with him, and he threw his legs over me. One of the Harry Potter movies was on; he'd loved those as a little kid, but it had been a while.

We sat comfortably together and watched for a while. He went to sleep sometime around ten; I heard his breathing change and he was out.

I gave him a few minutes, then went out to the tent and went to sleep myself.

I woke up around seven in the morning. I shrugged myself out of my purple sleeping bag and went into the house, still wearing my Chupacabra pajamas. I poured myself a cup of coffee and found Dad out of the porch.

"How's everything?" he asked.

I sat down beside him on the porch swing. "Doing okay. Slept fine, for in a tent. Michelle's still out."

"I saw Paul on the couch."
"We won't be seeing him for a while. Once he's out, he's near impossible to wake up. I gotta make like six tries every single morning for school."

I took a sip of my coffee. Dad asked,"So how's everything with your heart? Any news there?"

"Still no idea. I've had follow-up appointments and all sorts of crap, and nothing. It was really just that one day, and then it was over."

"Did the doctors give you any directions?"

"I barely even saw doctors. They told me to drink more water, and that was the most helpful thing I heard. I'm not feeling too hot on the medical profession right now."

"Yeah, I can understand that."

"But I'm okay. Lost some weight for some reason, but no further heart problems. I was on the heart monitor for thirty days, and it recorded nothing. So I'm doing okay."

Breakfast was blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs, cooked by Jon's wife Amy and begged for by Miles and Peggy.

"Find any ghosts last night?" Amy asked me.

"Last night I was sort of concentrating on UFOs," I said. "But didn't find much. We're going to check the springhouse for ghosts this morning."

I was actually surprised at how much Paul and Rylan ate. They barely eat breakfast at home. Afterward, I put on the vest and took some of my equipment out of the travel case, stocking my pockets.

"You guys going with me to the springhouse?" I asked the kids.

"Yeah," said Rylan.

"Which one is the springhouse?" Paul asked.

"The building with the pink shingles out back, by the path," I said. "We used to camp there. I learned first aid in that house, learned Morse code. We had a million adventures in that old springhouse when I was a kid." I picked up the box of equipment. "Who wants what?"

Rylan took the laser thermometer, and Paul took the little EMF detector. We walked down to the springhouse, on the path behind the house.

The springhouse is a big old house with pink shingles. We'd played in it and camped in it constantly as kids. Now, my brother was right---It wasn't in the best condition.

I stopped and looked at it, remembering.

I got out the all-in-one and turned it on. I said,"Check the outside first."

We walked around outside the springhouse for a moment, checking the readings. Then I tried the door, which was jammed---It had pretty much always been like that. I did what I'd always done as a kid, and kicked the lower corner.

It popped open. I stepped inside. The floor was covered with walnut shells; clearly squirrels were using the place. Dust and junk was throughout the room, and the floor sagged badly. It had buckled up in the middle, and I could see a clearly rotted spot that I wouldn't dare to go near.

"Can we come in?" asked Rylan.

"Yes, but not far. Stay behind me," I said.

Paul and Rylan stepped inside, looking around. 

"Wow," commented Paul.

I said,"We shouldn't get any EMFs from electricity in here---Dad shut off the power to this place years ago, when they built the new barn."

Rylan moved the laser thermometer around the room. "Got a cold spot over there," she said.

"I'm showing that, too," I said. "Going to the thermal imager."

I got the imager out of my pocket and turned it on. I could see the shades of red and orange, and for no reason, a blue blob in the middle.

"Yep, we have activity," I said. "Got a cold spot right there. Let's get out of here, before the floor collapses."

We moved back out the door---We'd only gone about four feet into the building. My brother had come down the path and was working on the tractor,

"Find anything?" he asked.

"Couple of cold spots," I said. "Place may actually be haunted. You know all the people who built this farm are up in the old cemetery by 873?"
"I remember that," he said. "The Newhards."

"German immigrants. Did the research on them years ago."

Paul tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear. I grinned.

"Paul wants to know what the chances are of him getting a lesson on the gator."

Paul and his Uncle Jon sat in the front seat of the gator, a big green cart that Jon used on the farm. 

"Okay, I'm gonna keep my hand on the emergency brake. You steer, and work the gas. Just a little at a time, to start."
Paul was grinning. I watched as he started driving, slowly and jerkily at first, then smoothing out. Clearly, he was having a good time. With Jon in the seat beside him, he steered the gator across the lawn. My brother and my son.

A leaf was falling from the maple tree.

Without thinking, I reached out and caught it.

Alas, Poor York

"Oooh," the kids said.

Paul and his little friend Rylan barged in the second we opened the cabin door. I followed and dropped my pack in a corner. "It is a nice cabin," I agreed. "Welcome to Codorus State Park in York County."

"I want to see the pool," said Paul.

"We'll get to the pool in a bit," I said. "We have all sorts of good stuff planned. Got some cool side trips to go on, and there are ghosts to find here. Gettysburg isn't too far away, and when it comes to ghosts in Pennsylvania, that's the boss fight."

"Is there a microwave in here?" Paul asked, looking around.

"Nope, we'll have to cook on a fire," I said. "But we can do that. It is a really nice cabin, though."

"How far is the pool from the cabin?" Michelle asked.

"Not too far, depending on how much you're willing to cut through the woods."

"I think we'll drive."

"Tell you what," I said. "I'll ride over with you, then cut back this way. I want to get a little hiking in. I'll meet you back at the cabin, and then we'll run out and pick up some food."

"Can you come in the pool with us, Daddy?" asked Paul.

"How about not today, but I will before we leave? You know I'm not much of a swimmer."

"Get changed into your swimsuit," said Michelle.

"I'm already in my swimsuit," said Paul.

"By the way, Rylan," I said,"Almost forgot. Got something for you." I tossed her a purple shirt, with her name and the Ghost Gang symbol on it. She caught it and grinned. "You've earned that."

"You're on the team!" Paul said delightedly.

The kids were delighted with the pool from a distance, seeing the huge pool and the slides. The thing looked like a waterpark. I left them at the fence and then walked back to the cabin, gathered my pack, and found the Mary Ann Furnace Trail.

I'd begun the summer by damn near dying in a hospital. I'd been doing things since then, but not enough---I'd been a bit hesitant to take too many risks. It was time to fix that; I wanted to prove I could still do stuff. I headed out with just the backpack, wearing the "Paranormal Investigator" shirt I'd treated myself to for my fifty-fifth birthday.

According to everything I'd seen---I'd done a little research before coming---This one led to the ruins of an old farmhouse that was said to be haunted. I found the trailhead down behind the playground, and walked down, taking the easiest route. It was well-marked, I had to give them that. Every corner had a sign on it. I'd still brought a map. Every time I visit a state park, I immediately grab a map. The purpose of the map is to sacrifice itself for my safety; I carry it in my pocket constantly and beat it up so I always know where I'm headed.

The farm ruins on the other end turned out to be really cool. A silo still stood, and I could see the floor of an old barn. There was supposed to be the ghost of a woman in white running around down here someplace. I got out my EMF detector and checked around. Nothing, so I switched to the thermometer reading; it was my all-in-one.

That got some flickers. On an eighty-degree day, I shouldn't be getting temperature readings in the fifties, and yet there it was. I dropped it back in my pack and headed out; I was pleased enough with this for a start.

I was about halfway back when I started to get dizzy.

I stopped for a moment to lean against a tree. It took me by surprise, and I took a few steps before realizing it wasn't going away. I stopped and took stock.

Dizziness. Slight headache coming on. Thirsty. I suddenly realized I hadn't had any water since morning, and it was now late afternoon.

I was dehydrated.

I checked the map. I was still at least a mile from the cabin. I couldn't find any streams nearby.

I continued walking, and I could feel some of the muscle cramps coming on. 

I was going to die. Again.

Okay. Keep walking. One foot in front of the other. I pushed myself down the path, trying to keep a steady pace. Should have brought water. Stupid. Rookie mistake. I only hoped I lived long enough to not learn from it.

I passed an orchard I remembered on the way out, and then the low point on the path that I knew brought me back close to the beginning. I emerged near the playground and hiked up toward the cabin, looking around to find a water pump nearby for my water supply.

I sat down on the porch and drank some water. It helped; I started to feel better in a few minutes. Okay, first day and I'd almost killed myself. All downhill from here.

Monday morning we visited the Utz potato chip factory, took the tour, and came out with a free bag of chips each.

When the kids headed to the pool, I rode along just long enough to get near the cemetery I wanted to explore. As Michelle drove down the road, I said,"I'll hike back to the cabin. Unless something goes seriously wrong, I'll be back by the time you guys are done."

I immediately and too late realized I'd said the wrong thing. Michelle said,"What could go wrong? What are you planning to do? You should take your cell phone if---"

"Relax," I said. "I'll be fine. I've died once already this summer. It's overrated."

"Will you stop that? I had to watch them give you CPR. It's not funny."

"I wouldn't know. I can't remember much of it."

"I wish you'd stop talking about it, Daddy," said Paul from the backseat. "Because something happened to my father, and I don't even know what it was."

"Hey. Don't worry. I'll be fine. Meet you guys back at camp, and we'll go hiking later, okay? There's a really good hike down the road."

I got out of the car and crossed the road, feeling the calm I always felt at these times. It was almost like becoming someone else, getting away from the family and exploring, doing what I always do best.

The Old Dubs Church Cemetery was not far down the road, an ancient cemetery with rows and rows of graves. I walked through it, looking them over. How much of my life had been spent in places like this? How many hours had I walked around in these places, the cemeteries, the old ruins, the haunted spots?

I shook my head. It was my thing, it was what I was best at. I'd never have made it as an accountant or a lawyer or something. This was me. The haunted forests, the old cemeteries....For better or worse, these places were where I belonged.

"Are we almost there?" Paul asked, following along behind me. I checked the map.

"Should be right ahead," I said. "We cross the next path, and there's a really old cemetery out here in the woods. It's called the Old Wildasin Cemetery, and it has a grave that goes back three hundred years."

"Three hundred? That's a lot," commented Rylan.

We walked along the path, rounded the corner, and I saw it. I said,"That's it up there."

It was in a small, overgrown field. There were maybe twenty gravestones, all broken, lying on a concrete pad. Clearly there was some sort of restoration effort going on. Many of the stones were unreadable. All of them were very, very old.

The kids looked around, and I took a couple of photos. I said,"I can't believe I get to see stuff like this."

When we got back from our hike, I started the campfire. The kids ate a hot dog each, and then went straight to roasting marshmallows. I sat on the porch and supervised things.

Paul sat down at the picnic table, spearing another marshmallow.

I said,"Paul, earlier you said you didn't know what happened to me in the hospital. What do you want to know?"

"Nobody explained it to me," he said. "I don't know what happened."

"Okay," I said. "Essentially, your heart pushes blood everywhere in your body. All of your body needs blood. My heart stopped for some reason, and I passed out because the blood wasn't getting to my brain. With me so far?"

Paul nodded. "Yeah."
"They still don't know why my heart stopped. When I got to the hospital, it stopped again, and I needed CPR to start it. Do you remember during COVID, when we learned CPR?"

"Yeah. We did it on my duck."

"Yes. They did that to me to bring me back. But that was two months ago. Nothing happened since, and I'm fine now. Okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"I'm gonna be in the cabin for a minute," I said. "Try not to burn anything down while I'm in there."

I walked inside and started digging around in my bag, looking for the lantern. Michelle was sitting on the bed.

"Hey," I said.

She looked up.

"If anyone should be scared after what happened to me, it's me," I told her. "I literally died, and the doctors have been useless. But I refuse to get scared, okay? Because if I get scared, I'm going to have to stop doing a lot of things I love, and I won't be me anymore. So I'm going to have to look at it like a big adventure I had, and laugh about it. Because that's me. Death gave me its best shot, and I took it and laughed."

Michelle nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "I understand."

Tuesday morning we went to the Turkey Hill Museum. It was our third time in the past couple of years.

Again, I hung back at the cabin while the kids went to the pool. I'd never been much of a swimmer anyway. I'd reached the point in the trip where I was missing Lock Haven---It always happened sooner or later. I gave Tif a call on my cell phone.

"Hey, hon. How's things?"
"Dad! Are you still away at camp?"
"Yeah, still in York County, but I was getting a little homesick. Figured I'd see how things are going."

"I got your mail. Dogs seem fine. Is Paul having a good time?"

"Yeah, he's at the pool right now. He loves this pool; it's almost a carnival ride. I've been running around looking for ghosts."

"Find any?"

"A few readings. There's a neat abandoned farm that may be haunted. And we hiked to a cool ancient cemetery last night. Gonna go check out a haunted lodge later. I notice the ground is covered in quartz."

"Does that have to do with the hauntings?"

"Maybe. There's some theory that the geology can attract more ghosts---Sort of like if there's enough iron in the ground, you get more magnetism. Quartz is thought to bring ghosts in, being a kind of crystal. Want me to bring you a piece of quartz?"

"Sure. Why not? Hey, I gotta get going---Time to head out from work."

"Okay. Ride careful, hon. See you when I get back."

"Which way?" Michelle asked as she drove down Dubs Church Road.

"Turn right at the end," I said. "We're looking for Black Rock Lodge."

"Do I have to get out of the car?"

"I mean, not if you don't want to. This place is said to be where a Revolutionary War soldier died, and he's been seen haunting the place. We're gonna check it out."
Michelle pulled onto the path leading to the lodge. We got out. The kids were wearing their Ghost Gang shirts, and I had my LHPS uniform on. The lodge was a big stone building set back some from the road, in the forest.

"I feel a cold spot," said Paul. "Right over here."

Ryland had the thermometer. She checked. "It says seventy-three degrees."

"That's a little cold," I said. I looked at the EMF---No readings. "Just a minute, I'm gonna switch to the thermal imager."

"Does someone live here?" asked Paul.

"It's a rental," I said. I pulled out the imager, and ran it around the area. Everything was in reds and oranges, but when I aimed it at the lodge, it turned deep blue.

"Good going, guys," I said. "Look at this. The entire lodge is one big cold spot."

Wednesday morning, our last full day in camp, we went to a giant slide in Maryland. Paul and I had discovered it a few years ago when we'd been hunting for a Snallygaster.

On the way back to camp, we made a run to Gettysburg. I put on my black travel vest before we got there, and the fingerless gloves. I had my equipment loaded into the pockets, which was what the vest was there for.

I turned in my seat to look at the kids in the back. "Okay, you guys learned about the Civil War in  school, right?"

"Yeah," agreed Rylan.

"This is where a battle was fought. For three days in July of 1863, they battled here. A lot of guys died. Because of this, it's highly haunted. So, you guys ready to investigate the most haunted place in Pennsylvania?"

"Yeah!" said Rylan.

"I mean, Gettysburg is a big one. If you can't find a ghost in Gettysburg, it's time to retire."

"How did they fight a battle for three days? Didn't they sleep?" asked Paul.

"Well, they would be taking shifts. Some of the guys were fighting while the other ones slept. It was pretty busy."

"Where do we want to go?" asked Michelle.

I looked at the map.

"Little Round Top."

We drove toward the hill. My EMF detector went off. Paul said,"Do we have a ghost in the car?"
"Maybe near the car. But I am getting some activity here."

Parking was tight, but we managed a space, and climbed out of the car. We walked up to the overlook, where Paul immediately became enchanted with the cannons.

"I want to live on this cannon!" he said. "Do you think it's okay if I sit on it?"

"Probably," I said. He climbed up on sat down on the cannon.

"This is really cool."

"These things are probably a hundred and sixty years old."

We walked along the ridge, looking out over the battlefield. I said,"See, they had the high ground here. When the south came out attacking them, they shot from up here, and won the battle. A lot of men died here; they had a huge battle."

We walked down the path to the 44th New York Infantry monument. It looked like a giant castle, towering over the field. I said,"We can go in this. Come on."

We walked inside---The monument is big enough to have a staircase leading up to the balcony. As we walked up the stairs, Rylan said,"I'm getting something."

Her EMF detector was beeping. I said,"I'm getting it too. No power lines, no lights in here. There's no reason for it."

We got to the top, and stood high, looking out over the field. I said,"Still getting my reading. We have activity, guys. This is great. We did Gettysburg."

When we got back to the cabin, Paul said,"Will you come swimming with us today, Dad?"

"Yeah, I will," I said. "I'm not a big swimmer, but I'll come in the pool with you for a while."

Paul beamed. "I'll get changed," he said.

As we got out of the car later and walked down to the pool, I said,"It's been a really good summer. So what's been your favorite part of the trip, little man?"

Paul thought it over. "The pool," he decided. "What's your favorite?"

"Spending time with you."

We held hands as we walked down to the pool together.