Sea Change: Ray Of Hope

It began with coffee, as most things do.

I took a sip of black coffee and looked across the table at Chris. He and his wife Kate were in the coffee shop when I'd bumped into them, and I'd joined them for a few minutes of hanging out.

Chris had once been my intern, and had gone into a career similar to mine---Local tourism, history research, freelance writing. He asked,"Has Ian invited you to do a speech at Kettle Creek or Hyner this year?"

"We've discussed it," I said. "Don't have a date yet, but it's looking pretty good."

"Doing your tours this year?"
"Oh, yeah, I'll send you the flyer."

"What's the summer reading theme?" Chris asked.

"This year, it's oceanography," I said. "Not the easiest thing to plan around in central Pennsylvania, but I'm trying to make it work. Looking for programs that involve the ocean, or close to it."

"The Susquehanna Seal," said Chris.

"Funny you  should bring that up," I commented. "I usually tailor some investigations around the summer reading theme. Back in 2019, when it was space, Paul and I looked for UFOs all summer. Last year, with animals, we hunted cryptids. This year, we're looking at a summer of water monsters."

"You know a lot about water monsters, do you?"

"I know you're not supposed to feed them."

"I suppose that's a start. What else is  there, besides the Susquehanna Seal?"

"Bunch of water monsters around. The thing is, this kind of feels like....I don't know, closure, to me. I was about to go to New York and look into the Silver Lake Serpent when COVID all came down and the world changed, you know?"

"You were going all the way to New York to check out a water creature?"

"I was checking out the water creature to avoid spending too much time with Paul's Cub Scout Pack. There was one little guy, Alex, who drove me nuts. His mother runs the pack. One of these days, I'm going to hit Alex's mother. With Alex. They had the camping trip to Silver Lake planned."

"But then COVID...."

"Yeah," I said. "COVID came, and derailed everything. In fact, as best I can recall, I was working on the Susquehanna Seal the week before it all started. Since then, I've worked on a bunch of UFOs, dealt with three dog deaths, quit ghost hunting and gone back to it, changed my uniform twice, and had a summer full of cryptids. Seems to me like if I can spend the summer making progress on water monsters....Well, maybe I can get back some of the confidence I've lost."

I took the tongs and turned over the chicken, then closed the grill and sat down at the picnic table. Paul was messing around bringing everyone cups and plates for our family dinner outside. I picked up my can of beer---Can't grill without a can of beer---And took a drink.

"You want to go to Raystown sometime?" I asked Michelle.

"Okay," she said. "What's in Raystown?"

Tif grinned. "You're going after Raystown Ray," she said.

"I am,' I agreed.

"What sort of unknown creature is Raystown Ray?" Michelle asked.

"In Raystown, there's swimming and a playground for you and Paul. Water monster for me," I said. "I kinda tried to do a search for Pennsylvania water monsters, but it kept giving me my own articles. Really started pissing me off. So I decided to go for Raystown Ray, a vegetarian water monster in a manmade lake. When it comes to Pennsylvania lake monsters, Ray's kind of the boss fight."

"Is Ray the only one?" asked Tif.

"There are a few others. The Ogua, near Pittsburgh...."

"Didn't you investigate that one a couple of years ago?"

"Nah, that was South Bay Bessie, up in Erie. Not gotten to the Ogua yet. I've never investigated Raystown Ray, either, though I've always kind of wanted to."

"Well, the next day you're off, then," agreed Michelle.

"Is the food done?" Tif asked.

"Few more minutes," I said. "I might do a little prep work for Ray---Check out the Susquehanna Seal again or something. I've investigated the Susquehanna Seal before, but it's good to keep in practice."

I went to check on the food. Tif rolled over while I was flipping the chicken. "Gonna practice on the Susquehanna Seal?" she asked.

"I can use the workout. Last time I recall investigating a water monster was the Altamaha-Ha last summer. When I was a kid, the water cryptids were always my favorite. I chalked a Loch Ness Monster on the wall of my dad's garage. I was always out looking for a monster in the Schuylkill River near my grandfather's place."

"Was there one?"

"Well, hope dies hard. I only had access to just so many bodies of water as a kid."

"Think you'll find a water monster this summer?"

"We can hope. Looks like that's going to be my main summer activity."

"Gonna go out for a bit," I told Zach at the desk. "See if I can round up some prizes to raffle off for our Clinton Challenge."

"Okay," he said.

"We got people counting their reading hours every week, competing with Clinton, New York and Clinton, New Jersey to see who can read the most," I said. "Need some raffle prizes for this thing."

"Take your time," he said.

I went outside, got my bike, and rode downtown. I stopped and hit up a couple of businesses for gift cards, and then biked over the the Susquehanna River.

There were a couple of families at the public beach. I walked down the levee and scanned the shore, looking up and down the river. Doing this sort of research always makes people look at you funny, but I'd long since gotten over that. I watched the river for a while, and then walked down to get a water sample.

As I dipped a sample tube into the river, a little kid came up to me. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Getting a water sample to test," I said,

"What's your name?"

"My name is Lou."

I tested the water with my litmus paper, and it ranked in about a seven. Pretty much ideal for supporting aquatic life. I walked along the edge for a little, looking at the environment.

There were a couple of gingko trees growing on the shore. I had a thought, looking them over, and I walked back to my bike and rode off.

I walked into Tif's apartment after work. She was sitting at her desk. 

"I picked up the bed that was delivered," she said. "I tried to call you because the box fell in the doorway and blocked my way in, and I was trapped, but I figured it out."

"Well, I'm glad you're not trapped."

"What's up, Daddy?" she asked.

"I need to take a look at that Hynerpeton poster I gave you," I said. I walked into the bedroom and looked at the poster.

"Yeah, the Hynerpeton," said Tif. "Archaeologists discovered a prehistoric creature right here in Clinton County."

"They did." I examined the poster, which had labelled Hynerpetons and some of the foliage from the era. "I'm thinking about this, lately. There was a creature discovered here....And there were articles about a water monster in the river....."

"You think the Susquehanna Seal could be a leftover Hynerpeton?"

"It's a theory. Not sure it could survive the Pennsylvania winters---Hell, I have trouble surviving the Pennsylvania winters---But if the species was able to stay fed.....Look, this plant...Otzinachsonia Beerboweri. Those have to have been found locally; they're named after the river. The Native Americans used to call this whole valley Otzinachson. Did I ever tell you it meant 'Demon's den'? They believed this whole place was haunted."

"Well...."

"I know. But if there was one native plant they could eat, they might have evolved to eat others. They've had millions of years."

"They could survive the winters by burying themselves in the mud, like some frogs do."

"Could be. I need to work on that this summer, see if I can find any evidence for or against. We have a water monster and our own personal amphibian, and they could be connected."

Raystown Lake runs for twenty miles, and you can tell you're in the tourist zone before you ever get anywhere near the water. There's a million places selling supplies, firewood, camping spaces, and other things. We stopped at the visitor's center first, and went in to look around.

We immediately got sidetracked by the penny machine. After a couple of dollars, Paul and I ended up with a few flattened pennies with fish stamped on them. We walked through the gift shop, and Paul picked out a doll that he liked.

"Not a lot of Raystown Ray stuff in here," I observed. "I expected I'd be able to get a t-shirt or something."

"Found a patch," Michelle said, and handed me a Raystown Ray patch that cost about $3.50. I took it to the register.

"So, I'm sure you get this all the time," I said to the girl at the counter,"But tell me about Raystown Ray."

She smiled. "Ray's a mystery. We don't see him much. We have a photo over there, but not much else. He doesn't show up too much. We like keeping it a mystery. We have a display here...." She slid a frame over to me, showing a little information about Raystown Ray, and two photos of footprints.

I examined it, and clicked a photo of it. The prints looked liked fakes to me; too well-defined, no changes in depth or clarity.

"I'll take this," I said, sliding the patch over.

"I'm ready to go swimming," Paul said.

"That's our next stop."

At seven, Paul likes the water far more than I ever have. We drove down to the beach area, and he was n the water within a minute, wearing his new bathing suit. Michelle set out the lawn chairs and sat down. I changed into my cryptozoology vest.

It was a new black fishing vest----Generally, anywhere you're going to investigate a water monster, you'll see no shortage of fishing vests around. I had blue fingerless gloves and a survival bracelet, and a Loch Ness Monster pin on the left side. It was loaded up with everything I needed to look into Raystown Ray.

"I'll get your water sample, Daddy," said Paul.

I handed him a sample jar. "All yours. Go ahead."

Paul splashed into the water without hesitation, and filled it up. I watched him pour a little out and then refill it a couple of times, until it was filled to his satisfaction, and then he brought it back to me.

"You want to handle the litmus paper?" I asked.

"Yeah."

I pulled the kit out of my pocket and handed it to him. He tore off a piece, dipped it into the water, and compared it to the chart on the package. "A seven," he said.

"Seven is good. Seven means the water can support life."

"Well, obviously. Otherwise I couldn't swim in there."

'Well. I mean like fish and stuff."

"Water monsters."

"Water monsters."

He happily splashed back into the water, and I walked around Raystown Lake. I followed the path, and found that it wound back and up the hill, to a little lookout area with a concession stand.

I stopped at the edge, working my way around to the best point. I could see Paul splashing around down below, and I had a good view of a couple of miles of lake. I got out my binoculars and scanned around. For a second, I thought I saw something, but it turned out to be just a boat. 

I spent about half an hour up there, checking around for any sign of the monster. There was plenty to see, but  nothing paranormal. So I turned and headed for the concession stand.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

"Well, I'm going to wait for my family to get hungry," I said,"But what can you tell me about Raystown Ray?"

"He's a myth," she said immediately. "A long time ago, one of the council people came up with the story to boost tourism. It probably keeps people away, though, because they're afraid to get attacked. Ray's just a myth."

I nodded. "Thanks."

I walked back down to the beach, where Paul was still going at it. I sat down beside Michelle. "Man, these people really do not stand behind their product."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how you go down to Punxsutawney, and you can't get anyone to say anything negative about the groundhog? It's exactly the opposite here. At best, nobody's interested in Raystown Ray, and at worst, they flat-out say he's not real. I got better interviews than this looking into South Bay Bessie. Hell, I got better interviews than this looking into the Altamaha-Ha, when n old man told me I was going to get eaten by an alligator."

"So it's not real?"

"Doesn't seem so. Raystown Ray is almost certainly a publicity stunt that the locals don't seem that fond of. That would explain the fake prints, and the fact that Ray is often said to eat plants. Nobody wants to swim when they might get attacked by a water monster."

"Well, Paul's having fun."

I watched my son splashing around in the water.

"Yeah, it wasn't a wasted trip."

Two nights later, I sat in a bar with Tif. We tried to go out once in a while and have a drink together. Paul was in his dance class, so tonight had seemed a good time.

"So Raystown Ray was a bust," I said. "That one is a hoax. I'm really surprised the story gained so much traction, particularly since the locals don't seem to fond of it."

"I'm sorry about that, Dad," she said.

I shrugged. "I'm just as happy to get to the truth of it. I mean, I'd love to meet a water monster, but I'm also glad enough to debunk one. That's what it's all about, really---Not finding the paranormal, but finding answers."

"Well, summer's just beginning."
I took a drink of beer.

"True," I said. "There's always the Ogua."

Sucks To Be UFO

My wife was working on the kitchen when I walked in carrying a PA Wilds atlas, a toy Bigfoot, and a camera.

She watched as I set the atlas up, propped to a page that showed a map of Allegheny National Forest. I stood the Bigfoot up in front of it, focused, and snapped a photo. Then I gathered it all up again.

"I just got paid for that," I said, and left.

Break time. I grabbed two slices of pizza and a bottle of Coke, and took the elevator to the third floor of the library. I was wearing my green Area 51 shirt.

On my way into the Gross Room, I opened the little drawer in a table, and pulled out a black pouch. Inside was a pair of binoculars. I took it into the room, spun a chair around to face the big windows, sat down and started looking out at the sky.

Plenty of cloud cover, and no visible UFOs. But you never know.

My name is Lou. I work at the local library in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania. I'm also a writer, historian, explorer, and paranormal investigator, mostly. At the moment, I look into cryptids, UFOs, buried treasures, and all sorts of stuff.

But no ghosts. Not right now.

A year of COVID deaths, followed by the death of my little pug dog, had depressed the hell out of me. Not long ago, I'd realized that I couldn't handle any more ghosts for a while. So I'd dropped any upcoming ghosts and haunted houses, which had been damn near all I'd had available anyway during a year of social distancing. 

I ate one slice of pizza while I looked to the west. Then I walked into the lobby with the other slice, checking the northeast, and finished it up while I walked down to the southern window. Then back to the Gross Room, where I finished the Coke.

I put away the binoculars and went back downstairs.

Slow day.

I sat and ate a hamburger overlooking the city of Williamsport. Across the picnic table, Michelle and Paul were eating, too.

"I think I see Bigfoot, Daddy," said Paul. "Wait a minute, no. That was just a rabbit I think."

We were sitting at the Route 15 overlook, having a picnic. Michelle asked me,"Have there really been Bigfoot sightings up here?"

"Oh, sure. A young couple reported Bigfoot attacked their car while they were parked up here."

"What were they doing?"

"Guess."

"Well, it's a nice place for a picnic, anyway."

"Ah, hell. I"m just bored. I mean, I'm glad to be out with the family. But I've had very little to do lately. COVID is keeping people in, I'm not doing ghosts right now, I haven't had many monster reports. It's been slow. If we can spot Bigfoot up here, I'll share my hamburger with him."

"Well, maybe something will happen soon."

"I hope. I'll take anything. A UFO sighting, a buried treasure. Hell, I'd take a gravity hill at the moment."

"You really are bored."

"Told you. Hey, Paul, they have the quarter-operated viewers by the path. You want to check them out?"

I was sitting at my desk, staring out the window. It was raining, just a little, which it had been lately---The weather had been a tease, going back and forth between nice and raining just enough to make things miserable. I pulled out a folder labelled Illegal Aliens and flicked through it.

I tended to save clippings about the paranormal when I found them. You never knew when you might need one. I flipped past a 1952 sighting that had turned out to be a Piper project, and the details of the airing of War of the Worlds in 1938. Then I found some old notes from an article I'd written a few years ago.

Zach came by, straightening the magazines. "What are you up to today?" he asked.

"I'm getting bored," I said. "I'm going to reopen QR-67."

He sighed.

"Oh, god," he said. "Every time things get a little slow around here, you dig into one of your old cases. Out come the maps, you start running around looking for old articles. What's this one about?"

"I need to refresh on the details, but some locals saw UFOs around Queen's Run. Hey, it's been slow lately What the hell else am I gonna do?"

"I mean....Your job?"

"That doesn't sound like me." I rolled my chair over to the card file, and flipped to "Unidentified Flying Objects," which someone in the past had considerately thought to include. There it was, just like I remembered---The Queen's Run sighting in April of 1967.

I got the microfilm and threaded it onto the viewer. After a little fast-forwarding, and some backing up (Missing your correct date and reversing is an important part of the process) I found the article I remembered.

Four friends had gathered at a home in Queen's Run. One lived along the Renovo Road, and the others lived across the river. They'd reported seeing UFOs, which to the best of my knowledge, had never been figured out. The article was really light on details, mostly quoting these four guys.

I read it a couple of times, and then printed off two copies. One went into the file for next time, and the other one I set on my desk, where I would later forget to take it home.

I got out of the car at Queen's Run, and looked around. I walked up the road, jumping over the guardrail, and stopped in the street in front of the two visible houses. It was just Queen's Run, hell, there wasn't going to be any traffic.

I turned, examined the scenery, and then went back to the car. Michelle asked,"You find anything?"

"Almost had to have been spotted over there," I said. "Across the river, above the Renovo Road. The article didn't specify a lot, and as it was sixty years ago, there's nobody I can ask now. They said they saw a UFO 'over the mountain', which could be a lot of places, but on a practical level, pretty much had to be across the river looking south."

"And they saw aliens?" 

"Well, aliens would be stretching it. They saw what was described as a white light with green around the edges. They watched for a while as these things moved around, and then vanished, leaving smoke that stayed for about an hour."

"White light with green edges...." Paul mused in the back, thinking it over.

"The thing is, this one doesn't really lend itself to any obvious guesses," I said. "Sometimes you can think of some possible explanations---Aircraft, military testing, weather patterns. But this one....I'm hard pressed to come up with anything that really explains much of it."

"White light with green edges," Paul said again.

"White light with green edges," I agreed.

"Bigfoot patrol," the woman read from the patch on my jacket. "Aren't you on the wrong side of the country for that?"

I was sitting at the picnic table in Riverview Park, petting her dogs; she was with a guy walking the path. Tif sat next to me, with Rosie tethered to the bench; Michelle was walking the path, too, and Paul was running around on the playground.

"We've had a few sightings here, too," I said. "Admittedly, the real Bigfoot country is out in Washington, Oregon, but we get a few out here. I was just looking into Bigfoot at Bald Eagle State Park."

"Really?" the guy said. "We moved here from Idaho. You get some monsters around here?"

"Oh, sure. We have the Susquehanna Seal, a water monster, and the Giwoggle up to the northwest. I give tours, do some writing about local history."

"I read an article about Jimmy Carter visiting," he said.

"Yeah," I said. "That was one of mine."

As they walked away, Tif said,"The new outfit's doing wonders for promotion."

"I still miss the tactical vest, though."

"So tell me about this new UFO case you're working on."

"QR-67 happened sixty years ago just up the river. Witnesses saw a white light with green edges over the Renovo Road, then disappeared and left smoke that lasted for like an hour. I'm not sure that lends itself to any easy explanations."

"Military testing?"

"Over the Renovo Road? Why the hell would the military be testing in that location?"

"Didn't they once try to bomb Renovo?"

"Well, it wasn't downtown Renovo. It was halfway up the road. It took me a while to figure out the locations; the witnesses lived almost across the river from each other. Military testing doesn't make sense."

"Why would aliens from another planet come to Renovo?"

"A lot of them already live there. Have you seen some of those people?"

Tif laughed. "Is this something new you just found out?"

"Nah, I've seen the article before. I decided to crack this one open again because I'm bored. Things have been a little slow lately; I haven't had any good cryptid sightings. I dug this one out to keep myself busy."

"Is it working?" 

"Well enough. For now. This one has always kind of bugged me, though."

"How so?"

"Like I said, this one doesn't lend itself easily to explanation. It may not have a solution, and I hate that. I mean, I could wind up writing it off as 'aliens, maybe,' but I'd rather know for sure. And I may not end up with an answer this time."

"I'm going out to lunch, and I won't be back for the day," New Boss told me. "I'm covering at Beech Creek."

"Gotcha. Have fun," I said. An entire afternoon unsupervised.

I actually did some stuff that passed for work, and then went to dig into QR-67. I started by scrolling through the microfilm, beginning with the original article and working my way a week forward, checking one day at a time to see if there had been any follow-up. Or any sudden discoveries that could have explained the sighting----"Meteor Falls In Bucktail Area," maybe.

There was nothing. I mean, there was plenty of news going on, but nothing that I could imagine tying into the UFO thing. I rewound the film and put it away. Time to check into the witnesses.

The spokesperson for the whole bunch seemed to have been the guy who lived on the Renovo Road; his name was Larry. He'd been the one to contact the papers and given all the quotes. The other three were relatives or friends---His brother-in-law, his nephew, and a friend. They'd all gotten together at the home of Larry's mother, in Queen's Run.

As most of them had been adults at the time, half a century ago, it was a fair bet that they'd since died. I checked the file; no obits on any of them. Dammit. I pulled the 1967 city directory in the hopes that these guys might be listed in there, and to my surprise, they were.

Larry lived up along the Renovo Road, and worked for Hammermill, the paper company. Same place the Jersey Devil had been seen in 1909, not that there was any connection here. The brother-in-law, James, lived in Queen's Run, and worked for American Aniline.

Now, that was interesting.

American Aniline was a chemical and dye company that had existed in Lock Haven---My neighborhood, specifically.

I walked back to Tracey in the back room.

"I just found a connection between a UFO sighting and American Aniline," I said. "The company made dyes and chemicals, and manufactured smoke bombs for the military during World War II."

"Hmm," said Tracey, almost as if she had better things to do than listen.

"So, worth looking into. The guy who worked at a place that made bright exploding stuff saw bright lights in the sky? Pretty big coincidence."

This time, she laughed. 

"So how do you proceed now?"

"I guess I need to look into American Aniline."

The sun was going down as I biked up the hill on Park Street. A woman watched from her driveway as I rode up. She called,"You need a motor on that!"

"I've considered it," I said, which was actually a lie. 

I pulled up in front of the gates to the former American Aniline building---Closed and locked. Someone was taking care of the place, mowing and cleaning up, but otherwise it appeared out of business. There had been a big Superfund cleanup here around twenty-five years ago, clearing out all the chemicals that had been dumped into the ground. I wasn't sure when it had closed.

I looked it over. The gates were closed to prevent trespassers, though there was a big gap underneath them that could easily be crawled under. Two buildings, one clearly offices, and one obviously factory. The factory one had a side door that let out directly into a parking area.

It wouldn't have been too hard to slip some chemicals out back in 1967, when people were more trusting. Hell, even now I could break in there easy enough if I wanted. How much magnesium would it take to make that kind of flare? Not more than a pocketful.

I took off my pack and hung it on my handlebars. Then I walked cautiously over to the fence. I didn't see any security cameras. which wasn't entirely surprising---American Aniline even in its prime hadn't been on the busiest end of town. I saw a lot of Trump flags on this street; I was more concerned about getting shot than arrested.

I crouched down and slipped under the gate. In ten seconds I was on the other side, hoping people would assume I was there legally. I walked into the tree line beside the factory building, trying to stay concealed.

Trespassing in a chemical plant to study a UFO. Well, at least things have livened up a little.

I walked to the door of the office building. I could see in through the windows. There was no security booth, nothing to suggest workers had been checked. It would have been easy to slip out some magnesium or something while leaving work.

Which might make a white light with green edges.

It was raining outside Tif's window as Paul watched TV. I said,"I think I figured out that UFO sighting."

"Well, that was fast."
"I pulled the city directory and checked on the witnesses. Turns out one of them lived right across the river from where the UFO was sighted, and one worked at American Aniline."
"American Aniline....Chemicals?"
"You got it."

Tif grinned. "Burning chemicals. You solved a UFO sighting with a city directory."

I nodded. "American Aniline manufactured flares and smoke bombs during World War II. It would have been nothing for one guy to slip out with a pocket full of magnesium or something, and if he was experienced, he could set it up as a flare on a timer on the other guy's property. Then, at the right moment....All four witness the UFO and contact the newspapers."

"Now, that makes sense."

"Does, doesn't it?" I looked out the window at the rain, then turned and gave Paul a hug. "Well, I gotta get to work. You two have a fun day."

Personal Space (Conclusion): Roswell That Ends Well

"So you're Lou?" the woman asked.
I nodded at her over the desk. "I'm Lou. What can I do for you?"
"You do ghosts?"
"I do ghosts," I said. "Happens in a lot of libraries."
"You were recommended to me. My son owns a haunted house, and I wanted to find out how to go about researching it."
"Oh, sure. I have a handout about this, actually. I can print you a copy."
"I'm especially interested in finding out the history behind it."
"Yeah, I can help with that," I said. "I'd suggest a trip to the courthouse, and then back here to look up obits. Is it local? There may already be some research done on it."
"It's local," she said. "But I'm not telling you where."
"That's fine, but if it's a building deemed historic, there may be a Historic Resource Survey Form---"
"I'm not going to tell you."
"Okay."
"He took a photo, and there were tons of orbs in it," she said.
I hesitated. "Well, orbs generally aren't very reliable," I said. "They tend to be dust or moisture...."
"No, the place is really haunted," she said. "I'm very sensitive. I have, you know, abilities, and I can tell."
I was absolutely not going to get into a discussion about bullshit psychic abilities. I said,"I'll get you the handout."
I went back to my desk and sat down. As I was bringing up the printout, someone said,"You find my phone yet?"
I looked up. It was the thin guy in white, the insane guy I hadn't seen in a while. I'd hoped he was gone for good.
"Nobody's turned anything in to the Lost and Found," I said. "I'm sure your phone's not here."
"I don't want some terrorist getting it," he said. "You know how you can tell who's a terrorist? They got beady little eyes."
"Uh...."
"You should throw out everyone with beady little eyes."
"I'm pretty sure that's both illegal and logistically difficult."
"I've got the feds working on it," he said. "They're gonna find my phone."
And he retreated to a distant corner of the library to sit down. There should be a limit to how many nuts I have to deal with in one day.

"Lou? Somebody here for you." Mel came into the back room while I was pouring my coffee into my Bigfoot travel mug.
"It's not the whacko in the white robes, right?"
"No, this guy looks normal."
I walked out to the desk. My friend Bill the Photographer was waiting. I said,"Oh, hi, Bill. You're here about your new place."
"I am," he agreed. "My wife and I want to know who built it, and when."
"Let's start by taking a look at the Sanborn Maps," I said.
I led him into the PA Room and pulled out the big maps, setting them on the table. "There, see---That's your place. So we can date it at least back to 1901."
"Cool."
"Hey, Bill....You do drones, right?"
"Yeah, I fly one around."
"You ever see one with a purple light? I saw something, a purple light in the sky, a while back near the Jay Street Bridge."
He thought it over. "Could be. I've never seen a purple one, but you can customize them. Mine has two red lights and two green lights. Where'd you say you saw it?"
"Near the Jay Street Bridge. North end."
"Hmm. Could be. Most of them have a GPS inside, that won't let them enter an airport zone. You can customize it, though, remove the GPS even though it's against the law. But that's far enough away from the airport that it's possible. I guess this doesn't tell you anything much."
"More than I knew," I said. "Thanks for that. Every little bit helps."

I was sitting at my desk and working on a program when she walked in. A woman---Thin, young, dark hair.
"Hi," she said. "Do you have a minute?"
"Sure," I said. "Pull up a chair."
She sat down. She said,"My name is Marissa. I took one of your tours a few years ago. A haunted tour in October? It was great. It basically changed my life. "
"Oh, sure, I remember that one. A talk about a ghost in church changed your life?"
"Well, it made me really think, I learned so much about the area. I have something I needed to ask you about....You seemed to be the right person."
"What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to ask you about something," she said. "A couple of nights ago, I was out walking on the dike. I saw something....I can't figure it out. You study aliens, right?"
"Well, I follow up on UFO sightings, yes."
"I saw a purple light in the sky," she said. "It wasn't a plane."
I stared at her.
"You saw it, too," I said.
"You, too?"
I nodded. "Back in June. Tell me what you saw."
"A purple light in the sky, about nine thirty. Kind of squiggling through the sky, over the river."
"I think you and I saw the same thing," I said. "And I can't explain it, either."
"What can we do?"
"I'm going to keep looking into this, Marissa," I said. "And I promise you, I'll figure out what it was we saw."

I got to work.
It was a warm day out. I turned up the air conditioning in the library. Everything I needed was a few feet from my desk. I began rolling my chair around, doing the research. I had my new shirt with the little alien head on it. Somewhere outside, someone was playing music.

I'm all grown up

But somehow, it feels like I'm pretending

Visions of my younger years, they are buried

But the scenes that play inside of me, are impending

They are never ending...

I checked UFOs In Pennsylvania, a book stashed right behind my desk. No help there; it had some good sightings in it, but mostly Kecksburg. Better than UFOs Above PA, though. I looked at the newspaper indexes. UFO sightings in Lock Haven from 1952 and 1967. Neither one exactly resembled what I'd seen, though the 1967 one was closest.

Where, where, where, where, where are you?

You don't have to look out that window, anymore.

You can just come back to yourself, you can come back to this world.

Where are you? Tell me who heard you. And where are you?

Calls to the local airports, military bases, and any hospital with a helipad yielded nothing. You'll have this. So, ruled out historic incidents, ruled out legal flights....Atmospherics.
I got online to check for atmospheric conditions, and got a little excited for a moment when I discovered a purple light called STEVEs, but the video I found didn't look like what I'd seen. Cool, though.

Such a quiet secret, it hurt too much trying hard to keep it.

Oh, and I looked up to you... I wanted so much to believe in you.

I wanted so much for you to believe it me.

Oh I tried, I tried.

I flipped through one of the library files on the paranormal---We have them. They're usually tucked away in a drawer upstairs, but we have them. Nothing on UFO sightings, but I found one of my own articles.
It was about LHPS, about the time we'd made an appearance in a local coffee shop. Way back when we were just starting out. Me, Theresa, Millie, Kara....All standing together in the front of the room, teaching coffee drinkers about investigating with the rain and the traffic outside.
I looked at that one for a long time.

Where, where, where, where, where are you?

You don't have to look out that window, anymore.

You can just come back to yourself, you can come back to this world.

Where are you? Tell me who heard you. And where are you?

I sat in the living room with Millie, Lacy, Kara, Ashlin, and the two new prospects, Spencer and Julie. The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers.
"I'll give the new client a call," Kara said, making a note. "What's the date on the Flemington tour?"
"August seventeenth," I said. "It's not exactly an all-hands-on-deck situation; Millie and I can handle it. It's a fundraiser for Millbrook."
"How about the Highland Cemetery one?" Lacy asked.
"September seventh," I said. "I'm working out the logistics on that; it's coming together pretty nicely. I'll make a run up to Highland sometime soon, and scout out the area."
"I think we're going to need another meeting to plan this one," said Kara.
I said,"By the way....The Spiritual Seekers are breaking up."
"Really?" asked Millie.
I nodded. "Saw it on their page. First they seem to have had a falling out, and they've announced the team is no longer together. Couple of them seem to have gotten with a team from out in Northumberland, near Highway Fifteen."
"Aww," said Ashlin.
"Northumberland can have them," I said. "I always knew we'd outlast those bastards."
"I don't know," Ashlin said,"I was getting a few laughs out of them. I expected them to stick around a little longer, at least."
I leaned forward and asked Julie and Spencer,"Do you guys have any questions?"
They glanced at each other, the way couples do before answering anything, and then shrugged. "No," Julie said,"You guys have explained things pretty well."
"Anything else, before we break up?" Millie asked.
"Yeah," I said. I stood up. "Something I gotta say."
I took a step, turned around. "You guys....I been going through some stuff this summer. And I just....Look. You guys....You're my best friends in the world." I turned and faced them all. "And....I know....That I am not the easiest person in the world to care about. So.....Thank you. That's all."
I sat down.
"Yes, you are," said Millie.
"Hey, I've known you for like an hour," said Spencer,"And you seem pretty cool to me."
I smiled at him.
"You sure that's it?" said Kara.
I nodded. "Yeah."

You have to wonder about your lifestyle choices when you spend half your time running around in old cemeteries. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, necessarily, just that it's not something you tend to do after, say, accounting school.
I walked across Section J, top of the hill, middle of the cemetery. Looking down over the hill, I could see William Piper's mausoleum, with the Piper Cub carved in the stone. I gave a rueful smile. The sun was going down, and I was getting a sense of what it would look like for the fundraiser.
I turned and looked to the north, and I saw it.
The purple light---The same one I'd seen back in June. It was north of me, toward the Susquehanna River. And it was moving slowly east.
I bolted after it.
I ran diagonally across Section J, leaping over gravestones as I moved. It was going slowly, but in the sky, so it was outdistancing me. I darted around the stone of Thomas Stewart, then tripped over the Schnell monument and rolled on the grass, hurting my wrist. I got up and kept running, crossing the road.
The light was heading east, out away from the cemetery. I dug in my pack as I ran, sliding my camera out. I dropped the rest of the pack. I ran past Soldiers' Circle, past Dewitt Clinton, past Henry Shoemaker. I stopped behind Peter Meitzler's statue and aimed the camera.
The purple light was out over the river, on the east end of the city. With my aching wrist, I held the camera and hit the button.
The light lowered and disappeared. I stood, breathing hard.
But this time, I'd gotten a picture.

"So," Kara said,"You gonna tell me now?"
"Tell you what?" We were in her car, driving in the dark. I was wearing my LHPS uniform; we'd just  come from the latest meeting.
"Tell me what's been bothering you. You haven't been yourself lately. The whole team has noticed."
"I was hoping you guys wouldn't see that."
"Good luck on that. You gonna talk?"
I sighed. "I have spent most of this summer feeling very alone, Kara."
"Why is that?"
"....I saw something, Kara."
"Uh-huh?"
"A purple light. It was in the sky near the Jay Street Bridge. I can't explain it, and I've been investigating it alone all summer. I haven't had anyone to talk to about this."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't think you'd be interested."
"What gave you that idea?"
"When I brought up investigating UFOs, you guys immediately voted it down."
"Lou. We'd have helped you. All you had to do was ask. All we said was that we didn't want to publicize that we're now investigating other things. We never said we wouldn't help you. If you need us, we're there."
"It didn't feel like that."
"We'd have helped. You're so independent sometimes that you forget that. When one of us needs help, the others come running. You know that."
I sat in silence.
"What are you going to do now?" Kara asked.
I looked our the window.
"I'm gonna find out what it was."

I walked across the playground, picking up litter. After over a decade, the local playground called the Tiger Den had been opened to the public, due to the campaigning of a city councilman. Because I lived nearby, I'd volunteered to help lock up the place at night.
I clicked the lock shut and put my Bigfoot multitool keychain in my pocket. My bike was in the alley. I climbed on, and looked ahead down Kite Alley.
There it was again, this time coming out of the mountains by....I did a quick mental check....Castanea. The purple light. It was blinking now, flickering. It began to curve, slowly, looping around and heading roughly northeast.
I rode after it. I'd almost expected it this time.
I kept it in sight as I biked down Bald Eagle Street to Liberty, and then north to Water. The light was still going. I saw it go down and out of sight near Jay Street, but as I hit the bridge, I had a good guess where it was going.
I biked into Riverview Park.
There was a woman sitting under the pavilion, on one of the picnic benches. She had a large black bag at her feet. I got off my bike and walked over to her.
"Did you see it, too?" she asked.
I looked her over.
"See what?" I said.
"The light. The purple light. What do you think that was? You're that paranormal guy from the papers, right? Want to check it out together?"
I glanced at her, the bag.
"Thanks for your e-mail," I commented.
"What?"
"You wrote the initial e-mail reporting this thing, right? You planned all this to get my attention. Well, you've got it."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm betting if I look inside that there bag, I'll see an illegally modified drone with purple lights. You've read my columns, right? Probably saw the PA Wilds column about the UFOs, which gave you the idea. You got my attention by sending me an e-mail describing your sighting, then chose the right time and place to get me to spot it, too---You wouldn't have much trouble figuring out when I'm downtown on a tour; I advertise hell out of that. You made sure I'd see the purple light, and then let me run around half the summer investigating it."
"And you found it," she said. "Now that  I've met you, I'd love to work with you. I want to help research the paranormal, too."
"Not interested."
She looked shocked.
"What? Why not?"
"I don't encourage hoaxes," I said. "Not ever. A hoax casts a bad light on all paranormal investigation. I already have partners....And they'd never fake a sighting."
I turned and walked to my bike. She called,"Wait!"
I got on my bike, and rode away.

"So the whole thing was a hoax," said Biz.
I nodded. "Just a hoax. One desperate woman trying to get my attention."
"Boy. You sure know how to pick 'em."
"I picked nothing. I'd have been happy to skip out."
 Our weekly family dinner was over. I was doing the dishes, Biz leaning on the counter next to me. Michelle has bailed and was watching TV in the other room. Tif and Paul were at the table, playing a game entirely of Paul's devising. It seemed to involve a chess board, dice, and at least one Monopoly piece.
"So how you feeling about that?" asked Biz.
"You know, I hate hoaxers," I said. "I should be pissed off. But somehow, I'm not. I'm okay about it. I solved the mystery. This summer, I did a lot of UFO stuff. I went to Virginia, Maryland, and Kettle Creek. I turned fifty. I'm okay."
I glanced out the window, looking up at the darkening sky.
"You seem like you're doing pretty good."
"I am. And you know what? I think I want to write a book. I don't even know if I'll publish it, but I want to write it. I mean, I'm fifty now, and I may be able to put together something more than just short newspaper articles. During this whole thing, I read at least two books about UFOs, and one was definitely crap. I can do better. I'm gonna write about all the stuff in this area."
"Well. That's cool."
"I'm also working on another piece for the Pennsylvania Wilds," I told her. "The UFO article kicked off a flood of reports, but I'm a bit worn out on UFOs after all that. I'm gonna see if I can stir up something else."
"Yeah? Like what?"
I grinned. "I'm thinking the Jersey Devil."
Biz laughed.
"I'm doing okay," I said. "I'm....You know, I'm at peace."
Paul looked up from the table.
"It's getting dark out now, Daddy," he said. "The alien signal is on!"
"Let's go on alien patrol, then, little man," I said. "Grab the flashlights." I pulled on my black cap with the alien patch on it, and he got his pink one. "Get my equipment!" We headed for the front door. "Let's do this thing! If we don't get out there, the aliens win!"

Business Is Booming

"...This is the grave of John Meginness," I said, standing in the Jersey Shore Cemetery. "Somebody take my picture." I could hear my voice projected across the cemetery, to the gathered tour crowd. I was wearing the small speaker they'd given me to broadcast this thing. "Meginness was one of the writers and historians from the late 1800s, and he wrote histories of both Clinton and Lycoming Counties. He gave me a lot of material to work with."
I moved down the hill toward the next site. Tina and Mary, my contacts from the Jersey Shore Historical Society, walked with me as I covered the microphone. "This thing is great," I said. "I gotta get one of these for my Lock Haven tours."
"The tour is going well. Good crowd." Tina smiled. "So what else are you working on back in Clinton?"
"There have been several really loud booms in Noyes Township, east of Renovo," I said. "They were heard as far away as the next county, but there's no explanation. I'm working on an article, and trying to figure them out."
"Oh, I think I read about that one," she said. "Interesting. Any luck yet?"
"Not yet. But I just started."
I stopped at the next grave, and released the microphone. "This next stop is the only headstone in the cemetery known to be written in German. Oh, and before I forget, I'm going to apologize to all of you preemptively for anything I might say when I forget I'm wearing this thing."

"Tell me a bedtime story, Daddy."
Paul was lying in the bed in the dark room. I sat by his bedside on a small chair, pulling the blanket over my son.
"Okay, little man. How about this? I got a good one."
"I don't want one of your made-up ones," Paul said. "I want you to read me one. How about the Pennsylvania one?"
"No, wait, you're gonna love this. It's about a king."
"I like kings."
"This was a king from a long, long time ago. King Arthur. He was hurt in battle, so he went far, far away, and came to Pennsylvania."
"Where we live!"
"Yes. It's an old legend. He came to Potter County, and found a healing spring. He was healed, and lived here a long time, and then died. His men buried him in a river. Now, you're gonna like this next part. Years ago, before you were born, two people went looking for where the king was buried. And they hiked down a mountain, and across a bridge...."
"Did they find him?"
"Yeah, they found him. You know who those two people were?"
"Who?"
"Me and Aunt Biz."
Paul's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yep. That picture  of Aunt Biz that you have, is her right by the river where the king was buried."
Paul looked at the photo he had tacked to his closet door. He smiled and turned back to me.
"Tell me that again."

"Hey!" I looked up and greeted my old friend Chris, and my new assistant Morgan, who had arrived at the same time. Chris had interned for me years ago, and was now working several jobs locally. Morgan, I'd known as a toddler---I'd worked with her mother fifteen years back. Now she was ready to graduate, and doing her senior project with me. Which made me about a hundred and thirty-nine.
"I wanted to ask for some clarification on the missing mayors thing," Chris said. "Got a minute?"
"Sure. I owe Joby a nickel." I waved Morgan into the Pennsylvania Room. "Come on, kid, you might as well sit in on this."
We sat around a table. I said,"Since you're here, Chris, you gotta hear this. I just got a tip from another freelancer for the Express."
"What's this one about?" Chris asked.
"Cow genitals."
Chris stared at me. "What?"
I grinned. "On the east wall of the Simon Building is a mural advertising Bull Durham tobacco. We've all seen it like a million times. Turns out, this was a company strategy back in the old days. I'm gonna get an article out of it. The company hired four artists to travel the world, and paint these murals with the cow on them, advertising Bull Durham tobacco. The cows, however, had really visible, uh...."
"Anatomically correct," Chris suggested.
"Yeah. And of course, there was an outcry about this---People protested. So they sent the artist back to paint a fence over it, blocking the view. They'd charge more for this, and get a ton of free publicity for it."
Chris laughed.
"My source says that in Lock Haven, the fence doesn't quite cover all of it," I said. "You can still see a little bit of the cow parts. I'm gonna get a great article out of this."
"What're you going to title it?"
I thought it over. "Cock And Bull Story?"
"The editors would never let you get away with that."
"Apocalypse Cow."
"Never mind."
Morgan grinned at me. "This is awesome. I love learning about this stuff."
"There's always plenty more of it, kid," I said. "I'm always working on something."

"Did you hear, there's a fire at Notre Dame?" the woman asked me.
I looked up from my desk and nodded. "Yeah. It's all over the internet."
"Did you see? The Lock Haven Express ran a photo of Notre Dame as their Photo of the Day," she said. "They picked it before the place started burning. Isn't that a weird coincidence? It's kind of creepy!"
I sighed. A landmark burns in Paris, and I get questions about psychic phenomena. That sounds about right.
"Not so much as you might think." I stood up and walked over the the newspaper rack, and got the day's Express. I opened it to the right page and laid it down on the shelf. "See, if you read this caption, they chose this photo because of construction currently being done on Notre Dame. It's that same construction that started the fire. So it's not really as big a coincidence as all that; the photo and the fire came from the same root source."
She nodded. "Well, that makes me feel better about it."
"Glad I could help." I picked up my phone as she walked away, and got one of the oil campanies on the line. I was talking to them when my daughter walked in a few minutes later.
"So, you're saying you don't know how the sound happened? Okay, that makes sense. Thanks for your time, sir."
I hung up the phone and turned to see Biz standing by my desk at the library. "Hi, hon. How's it going?"
"Had a little time between classes. What're you working on?"
"The loud booms in Noyes," I said. "They were heard all the way down here, but it's a mystery. I'm making some calls, digging into it."
"Noyes Township." Biz laughed. "I see what you did there. What have you ruled out?"
"Well, the gas companies deny any involvement," I said. "Which makes sense when I think about it. If the gas wells had caused a boom that could be heard thirty miles away, there would have been emergency vehicles and stuff involved. It would have been impossible to hide. So I can rule them out.  Also my contact in the college geology department says there's no record of recent seismic activity. I'm thinking a sonic boom from a military plane, but for some reason, I'm having a hard time getting the military to return my calls."
"Imagine that. What else is new?"
"Well, also working on a Bigfoot sighting in Beech Creek," I said. "Someone sent me a photo of the track. Check it out." I brought it up on my computer, and she leaned over and took a look. "What do you think?"
"I'd guess a hoax."
"How come?"
"The print is very even, as if it was put there deliberately. All the edges are really clear. Real bipedal prints are kind of mushy around the sides, because bipeds roll their feet as they walk. You taught me that."
"Correct. That's my take on it, too." I closed out the photo. "I told Paul last night about that time we found King Arthur's grave. He loved that story."
Biz laughed. "I was, what, about fifteen? That was fun."
"It was."
"Hey, Dad, I hate to ask....But my paycheck was a little short this week. Can I have a few dollars to help out?"
I gave her a twenty from my wallet. "Here you go, hon."
She leaned over and hugged me more than I'd expected. "Thanks. You're better to me than my biological father ever was."
"Worth it, hon. I remember when you were a kid, coming over for the weekend to grab a shower and a meal because your father drank all the bill money. Paul actually loves that the room was yours and Tif's before he was born."
Biz smiled. "He's adorable."
"He knows that."
"I better get to class," she said. "Good luck on your boom noise."
"I'll keep you updated."

Once a month, I meet with some teenagers in the Sloan Room. They're my group, Teen Paranormal. I teach them how do investigate cool things like ghosts and Yetis. I had Chris there, and several of the teens.
Don't look at me like that; it's my job.
"So that's the method to finding buried treasure," I said. "Now, in your handout is an article I wrote about some lost Civil War gold from last year. They never did find it, so it's still out there somewhere. I'd like you guys to read the article, and tell me what you notice about it."
As the kids read, I spread four government topographic maps out on the table. "When you're done, let's see if we can figure out where this gold most likely is."
Alex looked over the map. "So they were going to Lock Haven, and the article says they passed through Emporium and Saint Marys. But then, people are looking in Dent's Run? That doesn't make any sense."
"Exactly---They were going east, but then turned due south. It's way off course. So what's a more likely location to find it?"
Aubree pointed at the map. "Here's Round Island, mentioned in the article. Around there?"
I was rather proud of her for this. "Possibly. They'd have been sticking close to the Susquehanna; it's a pretty good bet. What else do you notice?"
"The survivor mentioned burying the treasure near a big rock," Aubree said. Alex rolled his eyes. She continued,"I know, Pennsylvania's full of them. Wouldn't that mean it would have to be a really big, noticeable rock?"
"Ah, you got it," I said. "And there is one very near Round Island. Right about here. Chris, you got your phone? Show them Altar Rock."
Chris brought up the photo of the tall, odd-looking rock outcropping. I said,"This has always been my suspicion. Altar Rock is very noticeable, even among other rocks. It's in the right area for the trip. Unfortunately, that means that they probably built Route 120 right over it, and I'd never be able to get to it."
Alex laughed. "Unless you had a metal detector."
"Hell, even then. There's been a lot of stuff dropped in that area over the years. A little south, about here..." I poked at the map, and then stopped.
"Lou?" said Aubree.
"Project Ketch," I said softly.
"What's that?"
"Back in 1967, there was a government program to create a gas well by setting off a nuclear bomb in Sproul State Forest," I said. "Due to protests, it didn't last, but they started production. This could be the answer to something else I've been working on, the loud boom noises out west of Renovo."
"You think nukes may be finally going off?" asked Chris.
"Or the dynamite they used to create the hole," I said. "Or something."
"What're you going to do?"
"I gotta call Sproul State Forest in the morning."

Morning. UFO T-shirt. Coffee in my Bigfoot travel mug. At my desk, I grabbed a topographic map, a notepad, and my cell phone, and retreated upstairs to the Sloan Room. I dialed Sproul State Forest and got the head ranger on the line.
"Hey, this is Doug."
"Hi, Doug. This is Lou---I'm a freelance writer with the Record---"
"Oh, I know who you are."
I will never get used to that. "Well, good, that'll make this easier. I have a couple of weird questions for you."
"Been the week for 'em. Why stop now?"
"Are you familiar with Project Ketch?"
"Sure. Government thing to make a gas well with a nuke back in, what, sixty-four? Sixty-five?"
"Sixty-seven," I said. "Has anyone been out to the site recently? Any activity out there?"
"Nah, we'd know it," he said. "Nothing going on out that way."
"I'm trying to run down possibilities for the loud boom sounds people have heard this year."
"Probably fighter planes in the low-fly zone," Doug said. "Happens all the time."
"So there is a low-fly zone over Sproul?"
"Oh, yeah, we get military planes out of State College up here breaking the sound barrier all the time. I've seen F-4s, F-5s, Raptors, Ospreys...."
"That may answer my question. It was one possibility, but I couldn't get the military to pick up the phone."
"Not surprised."
"Hey, thanks a lot," I said. "This probably solves this one for me. Case closed."

I walked downstairs, my new glow-in-the-dark Jersey Devil shirt on. Adam was working the front desk as I checked in. "Hey, Adam."
"Hey, Lou. You got a few calls today. One guy wants to set up a program. Got a call from a woman who wants information on her house. And a package came in for you from the Jersey Shore Historical Society."
"Thanks." I opened my mailbox and got out the small box. Inside, there was a small speaker system with a headset, and a card.
Compliments of the Jersey Shore Historical Society.
I smiled.
"Well, I'll be able to make some noise with this," I said. "When's my next tour?"

No Dues Is Good Dues

I was working on an article for the PA Wilds. It involved over a hundred guys, and several tons of dynamite.

"That's what it took to build the Bucktail Scenic Highway," I told Glenn and Claudia. They're two of the library regulars, and friends of mine. "It was said to be impossible before they actually did it. It used between one to four hundred men, new heavy-duty equipment, and five tons of dynamite."

Glen, an architect, frowned. "Five tons? That sounds low...."

"Might have been more....Wait...." I looked over the old newspaper clipping I had in a folder. "Fifty tons. Fifty tons of dynamite."

"Ah, that sounds better."

"Yeah, my dynamite-judging abilities aren't so great," I said. "It's been a while."
We laughed. Claudia said,"Happens to all of us."

They went to look for books. A guy came to the desk. "Did I hear you say you're a paranormal investigator?" he asked.

I looked him over. Old guy, gray hair. He had a button-down shirt, and a fishing hat that sat on top of his head as if he'd dropped it there and forgotten it. People recognized me as a paranormal investigator several times a week, and it's always the same question. Is he a nut, or reliable?

"Yes, sit. I investigate, and write about unexplained things."

He nodded. "I had two uncles that died in the Philadelphia Experience."

Nut.

"Really?" I said politely. You have to be a little careful with the nuts.
"Yep. They were in the ship when it disappeared....You know this story? A ship vanished and reappeared in---"
"Virginia."
He nodded. "Virginia. When it came back, my uncles were fused into the ship. My mom got a letter from the Navy, saying they were MIA. The government was covering it up."
"Give me their names," I said. "I'll look into it."

I wouldn't have even had the conversation. But it was Tuesday night.
Tuesday nights are really, really slow. Like "There's more excitement in a cemetery" slow. When I walked in the back room, I found Zach sitting with his feet up on his desk, drinking tea and playing a game on his phone.
"Yeah, I'm real busy," he said.
"You're not gonna get any crap from me," I told him. "It's so slow I just spent half an hour looking into the Philadelphia Experiment."
He squinted at me. "Not up to your usual standards. Wasn't that mostly made up?"
"Yeah. The story is that in 1943, the USS Eldridge disappeared and reappeared in Virginia before teleporting back to Philadelphia. Supposedly it killed soldiers and drove them crazy, However, the whole thing was pretty much made up by one guy. A man named Carlos Allende started sending mail to a UFO writer, insisting that this was the result of a government experiment that went wrong. Documents show that the Eldridge was actually nowhere near Philadelphia at the time."
"So what's your interest?"
"Got a guy who claims he lost two uncles in the incident. Which can't be literally true, but hell, it's a slow night."
"So you're gonna look into it."
"I'll see what I can find out."

"My wife has us booked for a night hike at Bald Eagle State Park. There have been some Dogman sightings in the area."
I can't believe I get to say sentences like that.
I was sitting between Kara and Millie. Across the table, Ashlin and Lacy were checking their notes. It was the monthly LHPS meeting, our gathering of ghost hunters and my only real attempt at a social life.
"Dogman?" asked Lacy.
"Yeah, dogs and wolves that run around on their back legs," I said. "They're half dog and half human....Kinda like the Mothman, or the Goatman."
"How do you know all this stuff?"
"I'm kind of self-educated."
"I'll get to my dues," Millie added. "I forgot the money tonight."
"So did I," I admitted. "Which brings me to something like eight months in the hole. I'll settle up next time."
Lacy grinned at me. "Or not."
Kara looked at her phone. "I'll get in touch with the client on Water Street. What else do we have?"
"The Spiritual Seekers got thrown out of Wildwood Cemetery for trespassing," I said. "Remember, that group I had to ream out for plagiarizing my work? They got caught trying to get in there at night."
"Good," said Ashlin.
"A couple of our cameras are going bad," said Kara. "We need to look into getting more."
"Theresa ordered the last ones, and she's on leave," Millie pointed out. "If she decides to quit entirely, we're going to need a new member."
"And a new president," commented Kara.
"Lou's the next one in line," Millie said.
I stood up. "Hey, we don't have to do it that way. We should really consider an election----"
"Lou is fine by me," said Kara.
Ashlin and Lacy were nodding. I said,"Hey, no, I don't need to just....No hard feelings if we want to choose someone else...."
"Lou," said Millie,"It should be you."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I said. "Ashlin, where do we stand on the Brawn House?"

I was going through the cemetery records when the mail came. I'd found the grave of only one of the uncles----A soldier named Johnson, buried in Dunnstown. I was going through obits, so it was a normal day until I got my government documents in the mail.
I was at my desk, looking over them, when Millie came in.
"Finding anything?" she asked.
"About what I expected."
"Got a minute?" she asked.
"Sure. These are Navy records from 1943; they can wait. What's up?"
She set a page down on my desk. "I was going over our bank account. We're down the thirty-one dollars."
I looked it over. "What the hell? I thought we had like six hundred dollars in there."
"Me, too. We've been talking about what new equipment to get."
"What are all these charges? Small amounts at a time, over the course of months. I think we've been hacked."
Millie nodded. "We don''t use the account too much, which is why we didn't notice immediately. The bank won't do anything unless you contact them within sixty days."
So I'm the new leader? Okay. Time to lead.
"Talk to the bank," I said. "I'll contact Theresa and see if she can explain this. We'll hold off on our dues, or take them in cash until further notice. We may have to close the account and reopen a new one; we'll discuss that at the next meeting."
"We may not get the money back," said Millie.
"Maybe not, but that doesn't matter," I said. "We can accumulate our dues and make it up in a month. Forget the cash, Millie. They didn't get us."

"Daddy!" My son came running down from the elevator,. wearing his Lego pajamas, new Lego hat, My Little Pony socks, glittery boots, and seven different superhero sweatbands. The usual.
I gave him a hug. My daughter came in behind him, in her wheelchair. Paul said,"How is your work going?"
"Pretty good, little man. Busy. I'm sorting these books for the book sale. What are you up to?"
"We went to lunch! Now we are going to the park!"
"Well, that's cool."
Tif looked over my stack of books on the counter. "Anything good?"
"By sheer coincidence, I found this one." I picked up a hardcover about the Philadelphia Experiment.
"Isn't that the one you've been looking into? The hoax?"
"That's the one. Guy says his uncles died in the Philadelphia Experiment, and it was covered up. Never saw any documentation, just heard all about this from many family members. Which makes me question just how good a cover-up this actually was, if the whole family talked about it all the time."
Tif grinned. "Any progress?"
"I ran the names against the military lists of soldiers who served in World War II. No matches---They aren't recorded as either killed or missing in action. I found one of the uncles, in fact, buried in Dunnstown Cemetery, where he's been since he died in 1974. Which makes him unlikely to have been fused into the Edlridge in 1943. Oh, and I ordered up the declassified files on the Eldridge. It was in New York, nowhere near Philadelphia when this whole thing was said to have happened."
"What're you gonna tell the guy?"
"The truth. Once I get all my evidence together. Of course, he's not gonna buy it---He'll accuse me of being part of the cover-up; the conspiracy bananas always do. But I can only do just so much."
Paul looked at my name tag. "L....O....U. That spells Daddy."
I laughed and hugged him. "That's right, little man."
"I want a comic book with Robin and Batman together."
"Come on, buddy. Let's go find one."

You have to wonder what's gone wrong with your life when a significant portion of it is spent in cemeteries.
The wind was blowing strongly as I walked across the Dunnstown Cemetery. I was wearing my blue sweatshirt with Bigfoot and UFOs on it, and carrying the photocopy I'd made of the cemetery index. I'd made sure to bring it along; I'd learned that the hard way.
I spotted the Johnson monument from thirty feet away---It was on a near corner of the cemetery, one large stone with the name on it. The family graves were clustered around it, but I didn't need to pick through them---I could see the little flags gathered around the World War II veteran.
I knelt by his grave. DALE JOHNSON, 1974.
Which made him somewhat unlikely to have been killed in a top-secret government experiment in 1943.

It ended the way it began---On a slow Tuesday night.
I'd been just dashing off an e-mail to Resurrection Casey. She was looking into a haunted building in Carbon County, and I was explaining how to handle that, with the caveat that she shouldn't be trespassing, or at least not get caught. The guy came in around the same time, and sat down at a table. Looking over at me across the room, he said,"You find anything online about the Philadelphia Experience? Like, on Google, maybe?"
"Well, that's not really the way I work, sir." I sat down across from him. "I use documents and hard evidence, not online stories. I've done some digging." I laid out the papers on the table. "There's no easy way to say this. The Philadelphia Experiment was a hoax. It never really happened. These are the ships' logs from that day; they show the Eldridge was in New York at the time, nowhere near Philadelphia. I checked the lists of soldiers killed or missing in action, and the names you gave me never appear."
"But that's not right," he said. "They sent my mom a letter saying that my uncles were missing in action."
"Do you have proof? Did you ever see this letter? Or just hear about it?"
Long pause.
"I found one of your uncles buried in Dunnstown, since 1974. Which means he definitely survived past 1943. Here's the cemetery record."
"Well, there was a cover-up---"
"Must have been a pretty bad one, considering your whole family knew about what actually happened."
"They got to you," he said. "Somehow, the government got to you. What did they do, pay you off?"
"Right, tons of money. That's why I'm still working the slow shift and doing articles about gravity hills."
"Somehow, they got to you," he said. "You're part of the cover-up."
"I'll leave these documents with you," I said. "You can debate this with the documents. But that's what I've found out."
I returned to the desk, sitting down at the computer.
Zach walked by. "What're you up to?"
"I'm searching for information about Dogman sightings," I said. "It's Tuesday night."