Here Today, Gone Giwoggle

It was dark, getting late. I was out, but not looking for ghosts or aliens. I was just walking the dog.

I walked with Rosie down the street. As I passed on the north side, one of my neighbors called out."Lou! Hey, Lou! Come over here!"

I tugged at the leash, and we walked over to their porch. The woman who lived across from me was standing with another woman, holding a cell phone. She said,"He's a ghost hunter. Play it for him."

"You think you have a ghost?" I asked, while Rosie sat on the steps patiently.

"We have a doorbell camera," the woman said. "We live across the street. I checked the recording, and this came up."

She held up the cell phone and played it for me. I saw a view of our street, and then heard a weird, creepy voice say something I couldn't quite make out. I frowned.

"That could be a ghost, right?" the woman across the street asked.

"Well....Hard to say. Has anyone ever done the research on your house?"

The woman shook her head. "No. I don't want to know."

I could do it in about five minutes without ever leaving my office, and it's generally harmless. But I let it go. "Have you had any other issues lately?"
"Well, we found a thing....A bar, you know, the kind they use to pry things open...."

"A crowbar?"

"Yes, a crowbar. We found a crowbar in the backyard. And something messed with our back fence."

"Okay," I said,"You could have led with that. You don't have a ghost. What you probably have is an attempted burglar. I'd suggest calling the police."

I love what I do, but man. A lot of people just don't think things through.

Dinner was mustard-crusted pork chops and stuffed baked potatoes---I'd found new recipes. The conversation was, of course, local history and folklore.

"So you want to write about Loop Hill Ike," I said.

Biz nodded. "My professor wants us to do folklore, and left the rest up to us. I thought Ike would be a good one."

"Who's Loop Hill Ike?" asked Paul.

"Loop Hill Ike was Isaac Gaines," I said. "He was descended from escapees on the Underground Railroad, and lived up in Keating Township. He was said to be kind of a paranormal bounty hunter; there are a lot of stories of him dealing with ghosts and monsters. Remember when you and me looked for the Swamp Angel last summer?"
"Yeah," said Paul.

"Loop Hill Ike dealt with the Swamp Angel, too. He was also responsible for handling Clinton County's official monster, the Giwoggle. The Giwoggle was sort of a werewolf, with the hands of a bird and the feet of a horse."

"Cool," said Paul. "We had chicken nuggets in school today."

"Yeah? Did you like them?"

"Yeah. I ate a bunch."

"When are you in the library?" asked Biz. "I have to do fourteen hours of supervised research."
"Take your pick," I said. "I'm in Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday from noon until eight."
"I'll come in Thursday."

"See you then."

"You mind if I order something to eat? Biz asked. 

"Nah, go ahead," I said. "Thursday nights are always dead in here. Nobody will even notice."

"So what do we have on Loop Hill Ike?"

"I went up to the attic today and pulled all the old Keystone Folklore Quarterly magazines that had his stories in them," I said. I slid three photocopies across the table to her. "Here's the Giwoggle, the Swamp Angel, and the haunted fiddle. That one is based on a real murder."

"Oh yeah?"

"The Gaines murder. One brother shot another through the window while he was eating dinner. We can get it from the microfilm if you like."

"Possibly later. Do you know where Ike is buried?"
"Yeah, he's in a small cemetery at the Clearfield/Clinton County line. I'd like to say we can go and find it, but it's a hell of a trip. We're not making it in a Prius."
"No, that's okay."

"Interestingly, there have been sightings of what they call 'bipedal wolves' in that area. With a little accounting for unsure witnesses, these could be interpreted as Giwoggles, running around the grave of their old adversary."

Biz grinned. "That's so cool."

"There was also an incident in the Civil War," I said. "Captain Wilson Kress went to recruit Ike to fight, and Ike shot him in the leg and ran. He hid out, spending some time lumbering in Warren and McKean Counties under assumed names, until the search cooled off. Years later, he met Kress at a railroad station in Lock Haven, and they shook hands and let it go."

"Cool."

"It makes me wonder about the assumed names," I said. "I have to wonder if Warren and McKean have stories of a legendary ghost hunter up there, and it's actually Ike, and they don't even know it."
"Now," said Biz,"That would be really interesting to find out. What other documentation do you have?"

"There's a will," I said. "Loop Hill Ike seems to have left a will when he died. I can pull that from the courthouse for you, if you like."

"Let's hold off on the will for now," said Biz. "But maybe you can show me later."

Morning. I got up and had some coffee. Able to function, I walked Paul down to the bus stop. He rode his scooter down excitedly. It's crazy how kids are able to wake up without coffee like that.

I put the little guy on the bus, and then walked back to the house. The morning newspaper had arrived. I took it inside and set it on the table while I had more coffee.

I opened my laptop, and checked all my e-mail. A couple of things had come in overnight. I skimmed through them, and then saw a story about dogman sightings in Pennsylvania.

I grinned.

I subscribe to all the best newsletters.

I rode down to the courthouse annex before work, and headed up to the Register and Recorder's office. The women all looked up when I walked in.

"Hi, Lou! Been a while!"

"Yeah, I don't get down on this end of town much anymore. I should bring the little guy down sometime. Right now, I gotta find a will."

"You know where to look."

The wills are all on microfiche, and with some effort, I found the right one, and put it in the machine. Loop Hill Ike had died in 1915, leaving the bulk of his estate to his housekeeper, Mary Ann Williams. Who then seemed to have vanished without a trace----I checked all the other sources, and couldn't find anything that indicated that she'd died, gotten married, or owned property.

Another mystery.

I was wearing my Aliens made me do it shirt and working the desk when Biz walked in. She had her laptop slung over her shoulder.

"Hi, hon!" I said. 

"Just here to do some writing," she said. "The last night working on my paper."

"Got it. Let me know if you need anything," I said. "Hey, you'll like this. According to one of the paranormal newsletters I subscribe to, there have been several dogman sightings in Clearfield County, near the Clinton border. Right about where Ike is buried. Now, it's not too much of a stretch to think these might be Giwoggles."

Biz grinned. "Some witches getting busy up there."

"I can print the newsletters out for you, if you like."

"Sure. Might be able to add some color to my paper."

"When is this due?"

"Tuesday. I got time. Which is good, because I sure as hell can't focus right now. I work best under pressure."

"You kind of work exclusively under pressure."

"Where exactly is Keating Township, anyway?"

"Way the hell up on the west end of the county," I said. "Actually there are two, East and West Keating, and I don't know why the hell they did that, as there's like six people between them. You want to see on a map?"

"Sure."

I took one of the tourist maps we hand out, and laid it out on the table. "Here's Lock Haven. Here's Keating."

"Wow, that is pretty far out there, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's listed as one of the most remote places in the state. If you drive through Renovo, and then look around and it's still not deserted enough for you, Keating is your next stop."

"Can I keep this map?"

"Sure, we get them in boxes of a hundred and hand them out to the tourists."

"I went down to the courthouse the other day and pulled Ike's will for you. I have a copy made. I know you said you didn't need it right away, but...."

"No, at this point I'm glad you did. Find anything interesting?"

"Ike left the bulk of his estate to Mary Ann Williams, his housekeeper. She was to live on the property until she died. Can't find her; she's probably buried on the property up there someplace. After her death, the property was to go to Ike's in-laws, Martin and Isaac Lanager, assuming they were good to Mary Ann. If not, it was split up among his siblings."

"Lanager. That sounds....Didn't you write about that?"

"Several years ago, I wrote a column about a Lanager. Had to go back and check my files. William Lanager, who had to be a son, died in a house fire in 1949. He's buried with Isaac, but not all of him...His arm was lost in a railroad accident, and is buried across the street."

"Weird shit."

"Whole township is full of it."

"Can I order some food in here while I work?" she asked. "I'm getting hungry."

"The idea of a severed arm makes you hungry?"
"It's been a long time since breakfast."

"I mentioned the siblings. One of those was Sarah Confer, who told the Giwoggle story in the first place. In fact, since it was her grandson who wrote it down, without Sarah, we wouldn't have the county's official monster. And she was telling these legendary stories about her brother."

"Which would mean...."

"Which would mean that there's only a couple of steps between Ike and what we know. Sarah, her grandson, and then me. Accounting for tall tales, a lot of this stuff has to be pretty accurate."

"So there were really Giwoggles?"

"At the time, someone believed that there were. And considering we're still getting sightings over a hundred years later, there's something up there."

I was at my desk when an e-mail came through. One of the local writers was interested in a Shoemaker article form 1954. I set down my coffee and walked to the file cabinet, sitting on the floor. S to Z was the lowest drawer, and I pulled out the Shoemaker file and started paging through it.

I found a green folder I didn't remember seeing before, and I opened it. Inside was a stack of typed pages, an interview with a Keating woman named Helen McGonigal. I read through them, fascinated.

I went and got my cell phone, and called Biz.

"Hey," she said. "What's up?"

"You remember when I wondered if maybe Loop Hill Ike had some adventures in other counties during his time on the run?"

"Yeah."

"By sheer coincidence, I just stumbled on an old paper that talks about ghostly adventures he had in Potter County while he was a fugitive. Written by Henry Shoemaker, too."

"Nice," said Biz.

"Up near the Triple Divide, Ike was camping when he heard something sneeze. He walked into the woods to follow it, and found a bunch of plants that seemed to be screaming."

"Sneezing plants?"

"Don't look at me; I don't make this stuff up. So Ike dug down, and found a skeleton, which was sneezing because it had a nose clogged with dirt. So he cleaned it off, wrapped it in a copy of the Clinton Democrat of all things, and reburied it. The ghost came to him later and thanked him."

"Cool."
"I'll make you a copy."

Dinner was marinated chicken and baked potatoes. Like always, Biz sat to my left.

"It's a relief to be done with school for the semester," she said. "Got all my papers in, and now I just have to sit back and wait for the grades."

"I remember how that goes," said Tif. "I always hated the end of the semester."

"Well, I'm done now," said Biz.

"So how'd you do on the Loop Hill Ike paper?" I asked. "Get that one back yet?"
"I got a ninety-five," she said.

"Good job," I said. "Proud of you."

Biz smiled.

"Thanks."

All's Well At Penn Wells

“See the green house down the street, Paul?” I asked my son as we stood in our front yard. “That has a connection to where we’re going today.”

“Really?” seven-year-old Paul asked.

“Yeah. We’re taking a trip to the Austin Dam Ruins in Potter County. That’s where a dam burst in 1911, and it flooded the community. The pieces of the dam are still up there, in a kind of park. After it happened, Lock Haven got some flood refugees looking for places to live. One family moved into that house.”

“I’ll tell Mom,” he said.

The Austin Dam Ruins are along Route 872, in Potter County just north of Austin. You see them from above before you actually reach them, looking down the hill from the road. I told Paul,”Keep your eyes open, little man. The ruins are on your side of the car.”

In a minute, we saw the ruins, standing below. There is something chilling and fascinating about your first sight of the Austin Dam Ruins, which are enormous and still standing where they were when the dam broke over a century ago. 

“Daaaam,” said Paul.

"When that dam broke, it flooded the town of Austin," I said. "A lot of the survivors came down to Renovo and Lock Haven, and moved into houses there. It caused quite a few hauntings; I've looked into some."

"Cool," said Paul.

"So Paul liked the Austin Dam Ruins," said Tif.

"He did." I was cooking dinner in the kitchen. Tif was keeping me company while Paul was out playing with his friends. "We walked around the ruins some, and took some photos. He had a good day. We're looking at Wellsboro and Cook Forest next."

'What's with all the family trips?"

"Work for the Pennsylvania Wilds," I said. "Hannah assigned me some themes this year, and I'm doing them once a month. For June's articles, the theme is family trips."

"Hannah actually contacted you?" Tif asked.

"Well, briefly," I said. "Actually I'm getting a new editor named Britt. Hannah got promoted. She sent me an e-mail informing me, and included Britt on it. I responded and welcomed Britt, and told her to let me know if she had any questions. That was a week ago, and she hasn't replied yet. I think we're gonna get along."

Tif laughed. "So what's in these other places you have planned?"

"Cook Forest had some of the oldest trees in the state and a swinging bridge. Wellsboro has shops, the PA Grand Canyon, and a haunted hotel. Britt hasn't commented on any of it."

"So what's the notebook for?" I asked Paul as we sat in the Wellsboro Diner.

"I'm taking notes," he said. "I can write about this."
"Okay, that works," I said. "Maybe you can submit stuff to the Pennsylvania Wilds." I turned to Michelle. "So, what do you want to see after lunch?"

"I noticed a lot of nice shops on the way over here," she said. "We can do some window shopping."

"Sounds good. There's also a haunted hotel."

"Because of course there would have to be a haunted hotel."

"I figure if I get enough material, I can get two columns out of this," I said. "I can write about our trip to Wellsboro, and get a bunch of photos. And then in October, when my editors want haunted stories, I can write about the hotel and pretend I did it in two trips."

"Ready to go check out the haunted hotel, little man?" I asked.

Paul nodded. "There it is, right across the street."
"Hold my hand."
We crossed the street together, and walked into the Penn Wells Hotel in Wellsboro, Tioga County. My wife followed along behind, looking at the shops. It was a big, grand hotel that dated back to 1869. Inside was a nice lobby area with a guy sitting at the desk.

"Hello," he greeted us.

"Hi," I said. "So....Is this place haunted?"

He laughed. "Well, I've never seen anything. I've heard stories, but I'm kind of a skeptic."

Behind my back, I slipped Paul my EMF detector. He knew what to do.

"There was a fire here in 1906," the desk guy continued. "Nobody died, but it did take off the top floor. People have reported hearing piano music at night, but I've never heard anything."

"How old is this place, exactly?" I asked.

"It was built in 1869," he said. "Albert Pitkin Cone opened the place. I don't know who would be haunting it; there's never been a death in here or anything."

By which he definitely meant that there had never been a dramatic murder or suicide that was publicized. There's no way a hotel that old would never have had someone die in bed of a heart attack or something.
A maid was walking through the lobby, toward the elevator. "How about you?" I asked her. "Have you ever seen any ghosts in here?"
"Nope," she said, and got on the elevator fast in case I turned out to be a lunatic.

"Daddy, I have a yellow light," said Paul.

I looked over. The EMF detector had spiked to yellow up against one of the support beams. "Good work, little man."

Paul passed out on the couch immediately after getting home---Trips wear him out. With her boy asleep, Rosie followed me into the kitchen and curled up under the table while I got on my laptop. She was waiting for me to drop some food, even though I didn't have any. Rosie is not exactly Lassie, if you get my drift.

I checked my e-mail----Still nothing from Britt. She was more absent than Hannah; I figured we were going to get along. I checked out the history of the Penn Wells Hotel. I hate doing research online, but sometimes when you need to fill in the blanks in a different county, it was helpful.

I got on Findagrave and ran the name of Albert Pitkin Cone. He was buried in the Wellsboro Cemetery and not hard to find. 

Michelle was in the other room, watching TV. I walked in, followed by the dog.

"You remember how the desk guy at the hotel said nobody had died in the hotel?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, okay, there were no high-profile deaths in there that I can find. But the owner, Albert Pitkin Cone, lost a daughter in a fire before he bought the place. She was four. His wife died later at age thirty-seven. It's not too much of a stretch to figure they could have followed him, and be haunting the place right now."

"That makes sense," she said.

"That's why we get our information from the paranormal investigators, instead of the random public," I said.

"The Austin Dam article ran the other day," I said. "Britt contacted me about it, but as she said she liked it, I think I'll forgive her."

We were sitting in Doolittle Station, a neat little diner and attraction in Clearfield County. Paul and I had gotten our photo taken with Bigfoot and a dinosaur outside, and the little guy was now coloring a page with some intensity, aware they'd put it on the wall afterward. 

"We should take more of those family trips," Michelle said.

I nodded. "Remember when we were first married, and we'd just take off someplace for no reason? We oughta start doing that again."

The waitress came with the food. I asked,"Do you mind if I ask your name? I'm a freelance writer with the PA Wilds, and I'd like to mention you in my article."

She smiled. "My name is Kristen, and it'll be on the receipt, too. I think I've seen some of your articles. My boyfriend and I are really into Bigfoot."

I will never get used to that.

I walked across the road on Route 36, snapping photos of the "Jefferson County" sign. Then I went around to the other side, and got a picture of Clarion County across the border. Right across the street was Forest County, and I got a couple of pictures of that, too, making it three counties within thirty seconds.

Then I walked up and joined Michelle and Paul in Cook Forest, and we walked down the trail.

"Some of these trees are hundreds of years old," I said. "I'm always a little light on ghost stories out here, but the trees are cool. It's a great state park."

Paul was running ahead a little.

"Yay!" he said. "The swinging bridge!"

Ghosted

"So, tell me what's been happening," I said. I sat at the table with two women, a baby, and a small dog running around the floor. I was wearing my LHPS uniform as I took notes on a clipboard.

"We've had stuff happen in the apartment," said the woman. "We've heard things, and I think there might be the ghost of a woman in here. I'm very sensitive. I've been seeing ghosts since I was three years old."

"Well, that's not exactly the level we work on," I said. "Our team doesn't deal in psychic activity, which is often fraudulent. We're looking for measurable proof."

"I'm not making this up," she said.

"No offense," I said. "I'm sure you're not, but I get five or six insane homeless people a week coming to me saying the same sort of thing."

She nodded. I said,"I'll talk to my team, and we'll work out a date to investigate. I'll be in touch."

My name is Lou. I deal with ghosts, monsters, and UFOs, and I make money from them in the only honest way you can---I write about them. I have a couple of local newspaper columns, and a consultant position with the Pennsylvania Wilds.

I walked up the stairs and pressed the little buzzer by the door. "Hi, it's Lou....I'm on the board...."
The door opened immediately, and one of the staffers, Juli, was standing there. She smiled and said,"Come on in. We saw you coming on the cameras."

"I brought doughnuts," I said.

The staff of the new organization I was helping was hanging out in the break room at the front of the building. I set the dozen doughnuts down on the table and said,"Thought I'd come in and talk with you guys. I'm glad I caught you all here. Look, I'm new to the board....I've been a member maybe, what, sixteen minutes....But I don't want to be the kind of board member who makes decisions without paying attention to the people on the ground floor. I've worked for some boards---I could tell you horror stories about the historical society---And I want to hear from you guys."

"That's good of you," said Jenn.

"I brought a bunch of my cards," I said,"Because I ordered a two-thousand pack and that may have been a bit overmuch. I'll leave some on the table in case you guys need to contact me."

I noticed that they all took one.

"And my son is back in school, so I am soooo bored right now," I said. "So, you know, kind of looking for something to fill time during the day."

"How old is Paul now?" asked Juli.

"He's seven."

"Awww."

"Also, you know, if anything haunted happens in the building," I said.

They all laughed. "Third floor," said Lacey.

"Yeah? Is that a hot spot? I wouldn't mind coming by sometime soon to do a little investigating for you guys."
"That would be great," said Juli.

"How's the fundraiser tours coming?" asked Lacey.

"I'm excited about those," I said. "Right now, my haunted tours this weekend are the only fundraisers we have coming up. I have a bunch of new stories to tell."

"I'm looking forward to it," said Lacey.

"Also I think I may have been elected vice-president at the meeting last night."

The women laughed. "Yeah, you were," said Juli.

"Look, I'll get out of your hair now," I said, standing up. "But I wanted to stop in and talk with you guys, tell you I want to communicate. Get in touch if you need me."

"See you for ghost stories Friday night," said Lacey.

"Good night, buddy," I said. I kissed Paul on the forehead as he and Rosie lay in bed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you in the morning, Daddy," said Paul. It was always a tossup whether he'd fall asleep or not, but tonight it looked like he and the dog would be out in minutes.

I closed the door behind me as I walked into the hall. I checked my office---My tac vest hung in the usual place, all my books and equipment put away---And then closed the door to the office, too. I walked downstairs.

At the kitchen table, I booted up my laptop. I got online and checked my messages.

There was one. I read it, and then sat back and sighed.

Damn it.

It was cold and snowy Monday morning when I went back to the center. The staff was all gathered in the break room again.

"You just caught the end of our morning meeting," said Julie.

"Don't let me interrupt anything," I said. "Just stopped by to drop off the money from the haunted tours, see how things are going."

"How did the tours go?" she asked.

"We made two hundred dollars. The weather worked against us a little, but still...."

"Two hundred dollars is still good," she said.

"Brought everyone something," I said. I pulled out a couple of bags of the paracord survival bracelets, and passed them around. "Everyone take your favorite. Last time I was in here, I mentioned these and everyone seemed interested. I thought I'd get you guys some."

"Mine matches my sweater," said Juli. "Where is the firestarter?"

"You scrape this little blade on the flint piece," I said. 

Jen started trying it, and came up with a couple of sparks. She asked,"What's this thing here?"

"That's a whistle."

Juli tried the whistle.

"While I was waiting for the nine o'clock tour, I thought I saw someone moving through one of the windows," I said. "Is there any reason to think someone might have been in here that late?"

"We have one client, but she generally doesn't stay that late," said Juli. "I don't think she was here."

"Which window?" asked Vanessa.

"Above the door, to the left," I said. "Would have been the staircase, I think."

"That'd be out here," said Lacey.

I followed her and Vanessa to the hallway, where the stairs led upward. 

"We'll have to check that out!" said Lacey enthusiastically. "Pretty sure my office is haunted."

"I'll come in sometime with my whole outfit, and investigate," I said. "I have a whole tactical vest that I wear...."

"I've seen it on Facebook," she said.

"Oh, that's right. I do have photos on Facebook. Paul has a matching one."
"That's so cute," said Vanessa.

"I'd love to get into that," said Lacey. "Do some ghost hunting."
"You know, we just lost a member," I said. "Just the other night, one of our members quit the team. I'm looking for someone to replace her."

"That would be so cool," said Lacey.

"Want me to come in next week to check your office for ghosts?" I asked.

"Sure!" she said.

"I'm on the Building Committee," I said. "We'll pretend it's maintenance."

It wasn't the typical LHPS meeting---Sure, the majors players were there. Me, Millie, Ashlin, and Heather. But SaraLee wasn't. And Paul sat at the table, taking little notes in one of his journals. And Rosie kept running in and out to bark at these intruders in her house. We were in my kitchen for a change.

"We're going to need new uniforms," I said. "We're to the point where only Millie and I have the originals. So we'll need to design something. I have some thoughts...."

"I have a machine at home," said Ashlin. "I can print out those decals if you just bring me your shirts."

"Hell, that's better than anything I came up with," I said. "We'll give you free dues for that."

Ashlin waved it off. "I'm not worried about it."

"Nobody ever pays their dues anyway," Millie said. Paul began sketching a set of designs for Ashlin.

"Well, we're going to need to recruit a new member or two," I said. "SaraLee has quit the team."

"Did she say why?" asked Heather.

"Yeah," I said. "It's basically because of my views on psychics."

"That not how we investigate, though," said Millie. "She knew that when she joined."

I could have hugged her.

"Yeah, it caused a few problems for me, having her on the team," I said. "I mean, I'd get people asking for psychics, and I'd tell them that we don't endorse that kind of thing. But there's SaraLee. I loved her, and she was a great friend, but if we never get another psychic on this team, it'll be too soon."
"That leaves us with four members," said Ashlin.

"I have a thought on that," I said. "I've got a new friend named Lacey; we've been working on something together."

"Not Lacy who used to be on the team," said Millie.
"No, different Lacey," I said. "She's really interested. Her car broke down, otherwise she'd be here tonight, but I think she'd make a good member. She'll come next meeting."

"Sounds good," said Heather. "We have any investigations on the horizon?"

I woke up just before 6:30 AM and killed the alarm---I hate to actually hear the alarm go off. I got dressed, took Rosie out, and woke Paul up. He watched TV while I had some coffee. And then we walked down to the bus stop together.

The bus came early, which never happened when I was in school. There are still Northern Lehigh buses from 1985 that never arrived. I gave Paul a hug and said,"Have a good day, little man. See you after work tonight."

"Okay, Daddy," he said, and climbed on the bus.

I watched it pull out and go down the street, taking him to school. And then I turned and got on with my day.

Once again, I walked up the steps and hit the buzzer. When they picked up, I said,"Hi, it's Lou."

"Oh, Lou? Okay!"

They buzzed me in, and Lacey was waiting in the hallway. I said,"Promised to come and investigate your office."

"Of course! I have an appointment in half an hour, but come on up."

"Then do mine," Juli said from down the hall.

Lacey led me up the stairs to the third floor. Lacey's office was brightly colored, with posters everywhere. I got my tac vest out of my bag and put it on---It was the slightly older model I use with LHPS, but still usable. She said,"Those little sculptures by the window move around sometimes."

I started getting EMF readings. "Do they fall over, or do they shift?"

"They shift."

"That makes sense. I don't have a full history yet, but I know this place was a parsonage, and I know that a baby was killed here, decades ago. It could easily be a child, just playing around, as kids do."

"That'd be kind of nice, actually," said Lacey.

"So, you in for the team meeting on Sunday night?" I asked.

She smiled. "I have a babysitter lined up. I'll be there."

"Before we meet, I gotta ask....How do you feel about psychics?"

"Weeeeellll...."

"That hesitation tells me a lot already."

"I don't know about psychics. I mean, how do you know if what they're saying is right? They could be just making everything up."
"That's right," I said. "Okay. Good. The person you're replacing, SaraLee, was a psychic. And she was a great friend....I loved her....But that sometimes put me in a tough position. I work really hard to prove what I say, and it was sometimes hard to account for someone on the team who expected us to take things on faith."

Lacey nodded. "I get it."

"Keep a log of any future activity, and write down everything you can," I said. "I can stop by every now and again to do another check, see what's up. You want to take me down to investigate Juli and Bridget's offices?"

I was at my desk when my cell phone rang. I could hear it inside my pack; I must have forgotten to turn the damn thing off. I pulled it out of my pack and flipped it open.

SaraLee.

"Hey," she said. "Just re-reading your messages, and....It sort of sounds like you're breaking up with me as a friend."

"No," I said. "I don't want that. I've been feeling awkward because I hurt your feelings, SaraLee, and I didn't mean to. I feel bad about that, but I love you, pal. I don't want to lose you."

"Well, that's a better message," she said. "Now I have more of an understanding of where we stand, you and I."

I wondered briefly why an empath would need that, but I let it go. "You're a good person," I said,"And I don't have any problem with you personally. I've grown to like having you in my life."

"Might not fully quit the team, either," she said. "I just needed to step back. So, I need you to look up a book for me."

I laughed, and so did she. And we smiled together, from two different counties.

"Goodnight, little guy," I said. I leaned over and kissed Paul on the forehead. At the foot of the bed, Rosie was already curled up and ready to sleep.

"Goodnight, Daddy."

I made it almost to the door before he spoke up. "Daddy? Can I tell you something?"

I returned to the bed. "Sure."

"Sometimes I miss you when I am in school."

I gave him a hug.

"I miss you, too, buddy," I said. "But the good news is, we'll always come home to each other. There are always more adventures for us. Get some sleep, little man. I'll see you in the morning."

Fired Up

"So," I said,"How much would you want to know if I thought I'd found a secret panel upstairs?"

The Boss considered it for a moment. "Let's take a look," she said.

We went up to the old bedroom on the second floor of the library---Her old office before she'd moved downstairs. In the back of the large wall shelf, there was a small hole.

"See, I can hook my finger in here and pull if we remove these shelves," I said. "If you look at the seams around it, it looks like it's designed to be taken out. Maybe something behind it."

"Hmm," she said. "Let's give it a shot."

"You've kind of gotten more fun since I met you," I said, and started pulling at a shelf. It got a few inches, and then stopped dead. I couldn't work it out.

"Looks like They built onto the shelf at some point," she said. "Secured it in place."

"Yeah."

"To get in there, we'd need a crowbar and some other tools," she said. "It could take the res tof the afternoon."

"Yeah."

We looked at each other for a moment.

Five minutes later, we were standing in front of the shelf, holding a crowbar and a couple of hammers.

"Okay," I said. "Let's do this thing!"

"Hey, I get to sit between the new people! Hi, Beech Creek Girl." I sat down at the meeting between Claire, our new tech person, and Beech Creek Girl, who was running the Beech Creek branch. She actually had a name, but one of our trainers had called her "Beech Creek Girl," and now we all called her that.
"Come and visit in Beech Creek," she said. "It's scary being alone in the building."

"Well, I've never heard anything about it being haunted, if that helps."

"I don't know; I've heard noises in there. Someone walking around on the empty second floor."

"Really? I can look into that."

"I tried to research the history of the building, but...."

"Let me guess. You trusted Google."

"Well.....Yes."

"That was your first mistake. The internet is about the worst way of doing this research short of consulting psychics," I said. "I got the Historic Resource Survey Forms downstairs; I'll check into it for you."

As you may assume, I work at the public library. I'm in Adult Services, which means I plan programs a lot. Though I admit that a casual observer would never guess that to be anything like my highest priority.

I started studying  the Beech Creek Library when I got into work. I was working on that half an hour later when Claire came in.

"Finding anything interesting?" she asked. Claire was the new tech person, and we'd immediately become friends based on the fact that she'd worn a Mothman T-shirt to her first day of work.

"Checking into the branch library for Beech Creek Girl. Showing her how Google is crap for this kind of thing."

"Anything good?"

"Place used to be a church---I knew that. Built in 1866. I pulled the Historic Resource Survey Form. Then I checked Linn's History---There was a cemetery connected with the place. These days, it's pretty much open, but back then, it was only church members. Two women were buried there, currently unmarked---Eliza and Lizzie. Both of them died from yellow fever in the later 1870s---Lizzie was twenty-four, and Eliza was nineteen. I'm gonna send it all over to Beech Creek."

"You should come and check out my place," Claire said. "We have some stuff happen."

"You live up along the railroad tracks, right?"

"Yeah, by the river."

"That's the area where there's the legend of the Headless Trackwalker. A guy who was killed in a railroad accident; he's said to still be walking the tracks."

"There was also a woman who burned to death in the basement in a furnace accident. We'd love to have you guys come and check it out."

"I'll talk to the team," I said. 

"Good news, little man," I said to Paul as I cleaned the kitchen. "I'm having a ghost hunting meeting, but it's here at the house tonight. So I don't have to go anyplace."

"Yay!" Paul said. "Will Ashlin be coming?"
"She should. We're going to discuss an investigation next week."

"I'll go wait for her!" Paul announced, and ran for the front door.

"Put on shoes," I called after him. "It's like eight degrees outside!"

As Paul ran out the door, I sat down and turned on my laptop. I brought up my messages.

Three minutes later, I went out and got Paul. 

"Hey, kid. Bad news. Ashlin's not feeling well; she can't make it tonight."
"Aw. Too bad. The others are coming, though, right?"

"Yeah. Well, not SaraLee. She just had surgery; she's been excused."

"Okay."

We went back to the kitchen. I looked at the laptop, and then said,"Damn. Millie can't make it either; she forgot the meeting was tonight. And Heather figures it's not that useful with just the two of us."
"So nobody's coming?"

I shook my head. "Nobody's coming. No meeting."

"Then can I have one of the sodas?"

"Sure."

He grabbed a root beer from the fridge and ran off. Wearing my LHPS uniform, I stood alone in the dark kitchen.

"I'm telling you, Casey, you can't schedule anything lately," I said on my cell phone, sitting in the old stairwell. "Between COVID and the goddamn weather, It's impossible to do anything. I'm sick of it."

"At least you have a team," Resurrection Casey commented. "Been trying to build one up out here in Slatington, but nobody seems interested."

"Yeah, that's the Slatington I remember," I agreed. "My childhood was a boring hell."

"You think this is ever gonna get better?" Casey asked. "Or is this just our life now?"

I considered it. "It has to get better," I said. "I won't accept that the rest of my life is just going to be this kind of crap. Things have to get better. We healed after Spanish Flu, we healed after polio. We're gonna come back from this, too."

"Boy, I hope so," said Casey.

"Have to," I said. "I have an investigation coming up, and I'll tell you....I need this. First time I'll be wearing the new outfit for an official investigation. COVID has taken a lot from all of us. I've been running around depressed and scared for almost two goddamn years. It's time for me to come back from that. I need to be what I was again."

"I want that for you," Casey said.

"So what do you have going on?" I asked. "Anything good lately?"

"Got reports of UFOs over Walnutport. I'd like to get a good look at the skies above the whole town."

"Oh hell, there's a place near my dad's where you can see it all. I'll give you directions."

I got off my call and sat down at my desk. A moment later, Claire came over, telling me,"Two guys are fighting over there."

I stood up and walked to the stacks. There were two guys---One, we'd had problems with before. The other was new. The new guy was asking to use the phone to call the cops. I nodded to Zach, who handed him the phone, and told Claire,"Get the Boss."

"I was just sitting there, at the computers, and he was filming me," the guy was saying on the phone. Behind me, I could hear the other guy also talking to the cops on the phone. "I want him to delete it off his phone. I felt a pain in my leg, and I think he put a curse on me." I continued listening as he began saying crazier and crazier things. "There are cannibals here...."

The Boss came out. "Problem?"

"Been a while since we had one of these," I said. "I'll get the incident reports."

It was me, Ashlin, and Heather. We pulled up at seven PM, grabbed our stuff, and knocked on the door.

Claire opened it, her brother and two friends standing behind her. We went in, and I said,"Hi, Claire. Any hot spots in here? Places where the activity happens more?"

"Not really," she said. "It's pretty evenly distributed around the first floor."

"Okay," I said. "Thanks for letting us investigate. It's the first real investigation LHPS has had in...."

"Almost two years," said Ashlin.

"Yeah," I said. "It's been too long."

Claire smiled. "Anytime. I'm glad you guys could come."

"Let's get to work."

I opened my bag, and pulled out the tac vest. I slipped it on, the big vest with the alien patch, the skull gloves, the gauntlet with bottles on it. And once it was on, I felt something surge---Back in action. Back, finally, doing my thing.

"Let's start here. Get photos from every angle. Get a baseline temperature reading, too. Once we get all that, we'll do an EVP session."

We spread out and got photos and readings. Heather had taken my advice and bought several good pieces of equipment. I noticed she had exactly the same brand of EMF detector and digital recorder that I preferred. One of Claire's friends asked me,"Where did you get that outfit?"

"Amazon, mostly. I shouldn't be allowed around Amazon unsupervised."

"It's really cool."

Claire laughed. "That is his dream outfit, with the gloves and the gauntlet."

"I wanted to look a little less like a cop or a terrorist, so I added the little goth touches."

"That's great," said Claire's friend.

"I have a temperature spike," I said. "Baseline in here is about seventy-two, but it just spiked to eighty."
"Isn't it usually a temperature drop?" asked Ashlin.

"Usually, yes."

"But it's not unheard of to have a spike?" Claire asked.

"It's not. Especially in cases like this, when the ghost died in a fire. It would make sense that the temp would get hot."

Heather was checking the room with her digital recorder.

She said,"Did you hear something upstairs?"

"I didn't---Did you?"

"Heard something walking around up there."

"Keep recording. I'll check it out."

I pulled my thermometer and headed up the stairs. I checked the readings in every corner. I admit I dragged it out a bit; being back in business, back in my ghost-hunting outfit again....It felt good. Damn, did it feel good.

We gathered around the table, sitting down to do another EVP session. All three of us had our recorders going, and Heather and I both had our EMF detectors turned on and sitting on the table. We'd been through this before; sitting around and asking random questions in the hope of attracting a ghost.

We basically went around the table, asking questions. "Can you tell us your name?" "Is anyone here?" "When did you die?" I'd been through this a million times before with Ashlin, and Heather was doing well for her first time out. I heard a noise, and glanced at Claire.

"That's the furnace kicking on," she said.

I nodded. Then both EMF detectors lit up, immediately spiking to red.

Heather leaped up, surprised. Ashlin immediately got photos of the table. Good girl. I pulled my thermometer and began taking readings.

"Is that normal?" asked Claire.

"Not really, no," I said. "We got a spike on both of them at the same time; that's pretty unexpected."

'They're down now," said Heather. "Both green."

"So just got a surge for a moment there, when the furnace came on," I said. "When the ghost here died in a furnace fire. That's a win."

Carrying my bags, I walked up the porch steps and into the house. As always, Rosie ran to meet me at the door, not backing down until she got to lick my face. Paul wheeled into the room on his hoverboard.

"Daddy! I missed you!"

I gave him a hug. "I missed you, too, little man."

"How was your ghost hunt?"

"It was good," I said. "We may have some evidence of ghosts."

"That's great!" he said. "Hey! Mom! Dad caught a ghost!"

Green Lanterns And Aliens

I sat on the edge, eating my lunch, my feet dangling over three stories and a huge whale.

With our COVID precautions tightening again, I'd begun seeking out private spots in the library to take a lunch break in. I'd been bringing in lunch that I either bought, or let Paul pack for me, and then retreating to some little unknown corner. Finding all the little hiding spots in the library had been one of my sources of fun for the past ten years, so it all worked out.

I'd already had a few lunches in the Sloan Room, a corner of a storage room, the attic, and the small stairwell. Now I'd found a spot on the third floor, just outside the boiler room, in a back staircase. If I sat at the edge, by the railing, I could see clear down to the bottom, making it a sort of small balcony. Just below me was the door to Children's, where some stuff got stashed, and there was an eight-foot whale that had been there ever since I could remember.

I polished off the sandwich, shoved all the wrappers into the grocery bag, and walked back into the hallway. The staircase led down to only an exterior door---There was no point in going all the way down. I walked down the hall to the elevators and headed back to my desk.

I had some research to do. I opened the big volume on Renovo and began paging through---You never know what you might find. I found a UFO sighting in September of 1952, which was interesting. Several witnesses in the Renovo area had seen a big, shiny-looking thing heading southwest. It passed over the Green Lantern bar, then over Westport and out of the county.

I brought it up on the microfilm---Front page of the Record, and it only took a moment to locate. I realized that the article down below it was connected to another creature---The Flatwoods Monster. Cryptid, or alien? Only your paranormal investigator knows for sure.

I was printing it up when Chris walked in.

"Hey, Lou," he said. "Working on anything good?"

"Funny you should ask," I said. "Check it out." I handed him the article.

"UFO in Renovo again," he said. "That makes, what, two this year?"

"Yeah, I know," I said. "Aliens keep trying to invade Renovo. It flew over the Green Lantern bar, so I'm designating this one GL-52. But look at the other article, just below it."

He skimmed that one, too. "West Virginia?"

"Same night. They're talking about the Flatwoods Monster."

"You're going to have to fill me in on the Flatwoods Monster."

"The Flatwoods Monster," I said,"Is probably the most famous West Virginia cryptid aside from Mothman. It was seen in September of 1952, when some locals saw something crash into a hillside. A few minutes later, they saw this tall green thing with red eyes and a sort of spade-shaped head approaching them. Turns out, it might have flown over Clinton County before it crashed in West Virginia."

"You think this was the same thing?" Chris asked.

"It sort of stands to reason," I said. "I checked the map. It flew over us, heading in that direction, at exactly the right time to land in Flatwoods when it did. We have Bigfoot, we've been visited by the Jersey Devil, and now we have a connection to the Flatwoods Monster, too. This one involves a UFO, a cryptid, and a Green Lantern."

"Brushed your teeth?"

"Yes."

"Got your clothes all ready?"

"Mom and me did."
I sat down in the chair by Paul's bed, as he and Rosie curled up under the quilts. "Good. First day back at school tomorrow."
"I know! I'm excited."
"Well, you get some rest tonight, little man. Big day tomorrow."

"Daddy? What's going to happen in second grade?"

I smiled. "Well, pretty much the same thing that happened in kindergarten, buddy. You'll have classes, and see your friends. Have lunch. Probably have art or gym at the end of the day."

"I hope it's art!"

"If it's not tomorrow, it will be soon. And then you'll come home, and Rosie will be waiting for you."

"Okay."

I kissed my son on the forehead. "See you tomorrow, little man. Get some sleep."

It was cold in the morning, snowy and eleven degrees. I stood on the corner, watching as Paul talked with his little friends from the neighborhood. For almost two years, I'd been at home with him most of the day. Now....The whole family was vaccinated. I'd given up hope that there would be any kind of end to COVID anytime soon. It was time to send him back.

The bus pulled up, and Paul got on happily. I watched as it pulled off down the street, and then turned away.

"Barb," I said at the desk,"I need a favor."

Barb is our assistant manager. She's short and terrifying. "What do you need?" she asked.

"I need a bit of schedule rearranging. I've been asked to join the board of a local charity. It'll require me to be out early on one night a month for meetings. I'd like to keep this between us; I don't want to make a big deal of it."

"I can do that," said Barb. "Let me know what nights you need."

I wandered around in the stacks for a while, adding to my display. I went into the back staircase and had lunch sitting on the steps. I missed the little guy. I wasn't even at home; I was at work and he was having a great time in school. But I missed him.

So I did what I always do, and lost myself in the research.

I sat down at my desk and checked the website for Braxton County, West Virginia. It gave me a few details on the Flatwoods Monster sighting. It also gave me the number of the local tourism place, which doubled as the Flatwoods Monster Museum. 

On company time, I went upstairs to make a call about the Flatwoods Monster. You can get away with quite a lot if you've discouraged everyone from paying too much attention to you.

I went up to the third floor. I was wearing my "Yeti For Action" sweatshirt; it was heavy and we'd had a pretty intense snowstorm the night before. I could see the snow from the big windows. I sat down at a table and dialed the number.

"Hello, Braxton County and Flatwoods Monster Museum," a cheerful-sounding guy said.

"Hi. My name is Lou, and I'm a writer from Clinton County, Pennsylvania. I'd like to ask a few questions about the Flatwoods Monster."

There'd once been a time I'd felt stupid saying things like that, but I'd long since gotten used to it.

"Right now?"

"If someone's available."

"Sure, I can answer some questions. What would you like to know?"

"Whatever they saw in the sky that night. What direction did it come from?"

"They were at the elementary school when they saw it....That would make it roughly north."
"Hmm. Did they ever identify it? Or find any remnants?"
"No, but the military had a unit out here searching afterward. So, if there was anything...."

"It may have been confiscated immediately, sure."

"May I ask what your interest is?"

"I'm working on an article. Here, locally, we had a UFO sighting the same night. It seems to have been headed in your direction. The Flatwoods Monster may have flown over us before getting to you."

"Really? What time did yours happen?"

"About six PM."

He said,"Wow."

"I know, right?" I said. "The timing works out well."
"Where did you say this happened?"

"Renovo, Pennsylvania. You'd never have heard of it---"

"I have it up on Google Maps. I'm doing directions to Flatwoods, and....Yeah, that's about where it came from, allright."

"I think we got a visit here before he chose you guys."

"There was an author who wrote a book on the sighting---He compiled a list of other UFO sightings that same night. You might benefit from that."

"You may be hearing from me again," I said. "I'll send you a copy of the article when it's done."

"That'd be great," he said. "Thanks."

I went back downstairs. Fishing around in the desk drawer, I pulled out an ILL form. I took it back to my desk and filled it out, then took it to Mel's office.

"Oh, good," she said. "Something to do."

"Well, don't get too excited," I said. "It's only for me."

I walked up and rang the doorbell on the old building. After a moment, a voice came through the speaker. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, it's Lou. I'm new to the board. I'm here to sign some paperwork."

They buzzed me in. There was a woman sitting at a table in the first room.

"Hi, Lou," she said. "I'm Laci. Welcome to the board. I love your columns."

"Oh, thank you. Appreciate that."

"Especially the ghost ones."

I smiled behind my mask. "I get that a lot. I've heard rumors about this place."

"Yeah, me too," she said. "I'd love to know more about it."

"I can come down, sometime, bring my equipment," I said. "We'll pick a slow day, do some investigating."

She smiled. "That'd be really cool."

Once, long ago, the back upstairs room of our house had been the bedroom of Ida Yost, the ghost who haunts the place. Now, she was willing to share with me, and it was my office. I sat at the desk with my laptop, working on an article about the Ingleby Monster. Paul had a couple of little friends over, and I'd ducked into my office to avoid the inevitable chaos.

The curtain pushed aside, and a little blonde kid stepped into the room. Paul has this little friend who follows me around the house. He's a cute little guy, but he won't leave me alone---I'm constantly fielding requests to play with him.

"Hi, Dennis."

"Wow," he said, looking around the room. "I didn't know anything was in here."

I have the house secured to defend against Sasquatches and gray aliens, but Dennis manages to walk right in.

"Yeah, this is my office. I come up here to do some work without being disturbed." I typed off an e-mail request to a local geology professor I knew, asking how fast meteors can go. Specifically, if they could pass through Clinton County and then end up in, say, West Virginia within the next hour.

"Can I play up here?"
I sighed and picked up the laptop. "I was just heading downstairs, actually." I plucked the mouse out of his hand, where he'd picked it up, and closed the door as he followed me out into the hall.

We went downstairs, where Paul and Dennis's sister were coloring at the table. I set my laptop down, retrieved my mouse from Dennis again, and sat down to write.

"Want to color with us. Dad?" asked Paul.

"Sure," I said. It was pretty clear that I wasn't going to get much done unless I went and hid in the basement behind the dryer, and maybe not even then. I picked up a few crayons and began sketching.

"What're you drawing, Dad?" asked Paul.

"It's the Flatwoods Monster."

"That's the Flatwoods Monster?" Paul asked. "When are we gonna catch him?"

"I'm working on it. He lives out in West Virginia. You remember who else is from West Virginia?"

"Mothman." Paul said immediately.

"How do you know that?" Dennis asked him.

"My dad teaches me," said Paul.

I heard my cell phone ringing in my backpack. I fished it out and answered it.

"Hello."

"Hi, Lou. It's the president of the board; you'd asked about helping out?"

"Yes! Just a second." I went back upstairs and locked myself in my office, kicking a doorstop into place as a preventative against Dennis. "My son is back in school, and I'm discovering I have a ridiculous amount of free time on my hands."

"Going through some empty nest, huh?"

"You got it. I was wondering if there's anything I can do to help out."

"You know, it's funny you should ask. I could use someone to go down and take a look at the building, see if there's anywhere that needs some paint or repair."

"I can do that," I said. "The staff may think I'm looking for ghosts."
"Let me know if you find any of those, too."

"So I just got an ILL book to research an alien monster," I said to Tracey. "A lot of people from my past are kind of disappointed in me these days."

Tracey laughed. "You've made an interesting career out of this, though. Find anything?"
"Well, the book is pretty conspiracy-heavy, but it did contain some valuable information," I said. "The Flatwoods Monster was seen in Braxton County, West Virginia, in September of 1952. It seemed to have come from a meteor that landed there. Turns out, probably the same meteor flew over Clinton County, up in Renovo near the Green Lantern. The book says that one was sighted in Independence Township, Beaver County, at about the right time, which is right on the route. Flatwoods Monster came to Clinton County."

"I'm not familiar with that one," said Tracey.

"No, the Flatwoods Monster is pretty obscure. I had to special order the shirt."

Tracey laughed.

"I just got an e-mail back from the geologist I'd asked about this," I said. "I e-mailed her while I was hiding out from my son's friend." Tracey gave me a funny look. "It's a whole thing," I said. "Nevermind....The geologist says that a meteor could very easily make West Virginia from here in that hour allotted.  Looks like the Flatwoods Monster passed over us before it landed in West Virginia."

"That's really neat," said Tracey.

"That I constantly deal with strange unknown monsters?"

"How you figure these things out. That's pretty neat."

"Anyway," I said,"Gotta run out for a couple of minutes."

"Take your time."

It's a lot easier to keep your destination a secret when nobody cares.

I walked out to my bike and climbed on, riding down the street. Again, I went to the building and buzzed in. It was a little quicker this time, with the staff getting used to me. One of the staffers, Juli, asked me,"Are you here to see anything specific?"

"No, just a general checkup. Look for a few ghosts, maybe."

She laughed. "Help yourself."

"The building was built about 1885 as a parsonage for the local church, so you never know."

I got out my flashlight and camera, and slipped a laser thermometer and EMF detector into my pocket. Then I started walking down the hall, taking a few readings.

Neat old building. I walked around with the equipment, checking it out. This could get to be fun.

"Yeah," I said in the empty hallway. "I could get to like this."

RB-75

Michelle was at the kitchen table when I went tearing into the house to grab my camera. She looked up at me as I ran past. "What're you doing?" she asked.

"Garage fire in the alley," I said. "I can sell photos to the paper."

I ran back outside, where Paul was waiting on the sidewalk with his little friend Dennis from around the corner. I said,"Okay, let's go get a look. You two stay where I can see you, and walk down the sidewalk."

I knew exactly where we were going to get the best view. I don't just think it's my city because I live here. We went around the corner, and I could see it down the alley---A garage, completely engulfed in flames.

It was going to be a total loss. I snapped a couple of photos. I ordered the kids,"Get across the street and stay there. Do not move."

I circled around, getting photos. The firefighters were spraying water on the blaze, to very little effect. The power line above began exploding with several very loud popping sounds, finally collapsing into the alley. I could feel the heat where I stood as I moved around in an arc, getting photos of the whole thing.

"How was your New Year break?" Tracey asked when I walked into the library the next day.

"Oh," I said,"About usual."

Most people I've met think that their job is the most insane job ever. I'm sure that you think your job is the most insane job ever. I assure you, it is not. For the last nine years or so, I've been the county's most prominent paranormal investigator at the public library. This means that the insane people who seek me out know where to find me.

We place bets on who the annual summer lunatic is going to be every year. I once had a woman hand me a live bird. People have walked in claiming to have proof of alien abductions. Your job may be wild, but it does not reach these levels of wild.

"Excuse me, sir," I said to the homeless guy sitting at a table. "I need to ask you to keep your mask on."

He pulled up the mask he had hanging down to his neck, and then very deliberately picked up his Pepsi bottle and took a drink through the mask.

"It was all made in a lab in China anyway," he said. "We're living in the End Times. I can prove it through historic research."

I looked at the newspaper as I walked across the library. My photo of the alley fire was on the front page. When I got back to my desk, Chris was working on the microfilm. "Found something for you," he said. "April 22, 1975. It's in the Renovo book on the cabinet."

I picked up the book, one of the comprehensive volumes on the history of Renovo. He'd left it open to one of the pages listing all sorts of oddball incidents, and I skimmed down the page. Four coal workers on top of the mountain had witnessed a UFO, described as having red lights, and they'd watched it for fifteen minutes.

"Well," I said.

"Thought you'd like that."

"You thought right."

"1975 wasn't all that long ago."

"Hell, I was alive in 1975. It must have been pretty high up, or pretty big. People reported seeing it as far away as Tamarack and Bitumen."
"You gonna get an article out of this?"

"Yeah, probably. Says it stopped at one point and shined a light on one of the TV towers. I can't think of an explanation for that, offhand, other than a helicopter, and the witnesses swore it wasn't a helicopter."

"An alien invasion?"

"We can hope. I'd kill for an actual alien invasion." I took the book to the copier and photocopied the page.

"Since it's 1975, some of those people are probably still alive," Chris suggested.

"Oh god, witness interviews. You just hit like my least favorite thing. I might take a ride up to Renovo, though, and see what I can find."

"Morning, boss," I said as I walked in. "I'm assuming you're there; my glasses are all fogged up."

The Boss laughed, in her office. Having confirmed that I was somewhat supervised this morning, I set my coffee on my desk and got to work.

I found the right microfilm---Renovo Record, 1975. I scrolled to the right date and found the headline almost immediately: "UFO Sighted Last Night." I printed it out and labeled it RB-75, using my own system: Renovo Borough sighting, 1975.

It had been witnessed by at least six people at ten-thirty at night, over the course of several miles. The red lights were arranged in a square, which moved fast and slow, and hovered. At one point it shined a bright light on one of the local towers. I couldn't, offhand, think of anything that would have behaved that way.

I ran through the rest of the month to see if there was anything that would explain it, or any follow-up articles about the sighting. I checked two other papers, as well. But there was nothing. 

"You ready?"

Tif called out from the kitchen. "I'm ready."

Paul and I walked in, showing off our new outfits. We both had tactical vests. His was smaller, with a unicorn patch and the neck guard. Mine had neoprene shoulder pads, an equipment belt, and a glow-in-the-dark alien patch.

"Cool," said Tif. "Is that customized?"

"Standardized vest, but I ordered some parts and customized it myself," I said. "There's a loop on the belt for my whip. I have patches that label the equipment pockets. Added first aid and survival equipment in the back. It's MOLLE-standardized, impact-resistant, and laser-cut. I have no idea what that means, but I like it."

"Mine has my slingshot," Paul commented.

"I designed this vest to be exactly what I needed for any investigation," I said. "With the gloves and boots, it's got a goth touch. It looks different enough that I don't resemble the terrorists from a year ago."

"You have a glowing alien on your chest!"

"That's a start, yes."

"Is that a gauntlet?"

"With little bottles strapped to it. It's got the goth look, but it's practical. I can use them for samples if I have to. I'm indestructible."

"You're not indestructible. You pulled a back muscle helping Paul with his subtraction last week."

"That involved the one substance on the planet that I'm vulnerable to."

"Math?"

"Never been good at it."

"It looks good," said Tif.

"I'm tired of hunting ghosts dressed like a Sixties reject," I said. "I'm taking my image back."

"Dad, can I go play with my friends down the street?" Paul asked.

"Sure, until dinner," I said. "I'll walk you down. Maybe there will be another fire."

It takes one minute or so to walk down to the end of the alley, where Paul's little friends live. One of the moms, Sara, was on her porch when I dropped him off.

"See you later, Daddy!" Paul said, already halfway gone to play.

"Have fun, little man. Hi, Sarah. How are you?"

"Doing okay, how about you? You want a beer?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

"Hey, I wanted to ask you," she said. "You can find out history and stuff, right?"

"More or less, yeah."

"Could you find out about my grandfather?"

"If he lived here in Clinton County, there's a fair chance."

"He lived here. He killed himself when I was a little girl. He owned a car dealership, and used to fly in a helicopter. He was always screwing around with the helicopter, I remember, he once landed it on the roof of the dealership, even though he wasn't supposed to. I was always told that he killed himself with carbon monoxide, but I met a woman recently who told me that he was shot and they made it look like suicide."

"Well, I can probably rule that part out right now. Someone would notice if there was a giant hole in a guy who died of carbon monoxide poisoning."

"Not if there was a cover-up."

"Television has a lot to answer for. For something like this, you'd get the police out there, maybe an ambulance. They'd have to call in the coroner, and then take him to an undertaker. One person can keep a secret. Twenty can't."

"Well, true. Can you find out?"
"I can pull his obit, maybe run to the courthouse and get the coroner inquest."

"You can do that?"

"Sure, that's public information. It'll take a few days, but I'll get back to you and let you know what I find out."

The obituary was easy. Obits always are. It was the way Sarah had described: Her grandfather had been accused of criminal activity with his car dealership, and killed himself with carbon monoxide. There were a couple of details she hadn't mentioned, though---He hadn't killed himself at home, but at his summer place in Gallagher Township. Who the hell owns a summer home in Gallagher Township, of all places? It'd be like owning a summer place on Jupiter, though the article did say he'd flown his helicopter out there, which would make it easier.

World War II veteran, which is where he'd learned to fly the helicopter. The newspaper had done their own bit of digging, and found out that he'd driven out overnight, piped the CO2 in from his car, and died in the room of his summer home. So much for the gunshot thing. In fact, it looked more and more likely this was just a straight suicide---If someone had been there and killed him, how would they have left? The car was the weapon.

I checked the will index. His will had been written not too long before the death, which is an obvious indication of suicide. I grabbed my jacket and pulled it over my rainbow alien sweatshirt, then thought to stick my pocketknife in my desk drawer.

"Gonna run down to the courthouse, Zach," I said.

"Have fun," Zach said.

I went through security at the courthouse, and over to the prothonotary's office. They found the right file for me, and I stuck the microfiche in the machine, and they left me alone. I looked up a moment later and realized that they'd all gone out on a break, letting me run around this government office all by myself. It's interesting being me sometimes.

I looked at the coroner inquest on the microfiche for a moment. It always sort of amazes me, how easy this stuff is to find. I get a question about a decades-old death, and it's right there. All I have to do is look.

The coroner report confirmed most of what I'd already found out. He'd been found dead in the home in Gallagher Township, with the vehicle still running and piping CO2 through a hole cut into the wall. Blood tests confirmed that the carbon monoxide was all that was in his system. Case closed.

The helicopter, though. What was it bothering me about the helicopter?

I was halfway back to the library before I got it.

Chris walked in when I was back at my desk, looking over a flight map I had left over from my Piper days. "Working on anything new, Lou?" he asked.

"Funny you should ask. The mom of one of Paul's little friends asked me to look into the suicide of her grandfather. I think he was a UFO."

"Well, now you're gonna have to explain that."

"He did definitely commit suicide---I can rule that part out. But he used to fly military helicopters, doing all sorts of screwy things with them. She told me he landed one on the roof of his car dealership. The timeframe works out. He died at his summer home in Gallagher Township, which isn't exactly on the way to Renovo, but close. I checked my maps---There's a military training flight pattern between Gallagher and Renovo. He wouldn't have been above flying around and screwing with people, and they might not have recognized a military helicopter offhand."

"Wouldn't they have heard some sound?"

"Maybe. I admit I'm not certain about this. But I think Sarah's grandfather was RB-75, because the only other explanation I have is actual aliens. And even for Renovo, that'd be weird."

 I peeled the velcro patch off the backing, and applied it to the pocket of my tac vest. The patch, in bright blue letters, said EMF. I had several like it, with different labels. With the pocket flaps closed, they weren't visible, but they'd be an aid in finding all my own equipment.

I looked the thing over. Excellent tactical vest, attached equipment belt. Alien patch, extra pouches, all the useful modifications I'd been adding.

Now I just needed the opportunity to use it.

Paul came into my office. "Daddy? Are you busy?"

"Not really. What's up?"

"I was wondering if I could go down to my friend's house."

I stood up.

"Sure," I said. "I'll walk you down. I need to talk to Sarah anyway, tell her I can answer her questions."

All I Want For Christmas Is Lou: The 2021 Christmas Special

The coffee table was covered with candles, the Christmas tree was decorated, and and the snacks were out. Millie had really gone all out for the holidays.

The last time LHPS had gathered for our Christmas event, it was pre-pandemic and had ended up with two members quitting the team. We were hoping for a better time this year.

"Guys, this is Heather," I said. "I invited her along because I think she'll be a good member of the team. I know it's the Christmas meeting, but we're so desperate for people, I didn't want to delay it."

"Hi, Heather," said Millie. "We really need new members. Welcome."

Heather, a middle-aged mom with blue hair, smiled at us. "I'm excited," she said. "My sister-in-law is jealous I got invited. She's really into stuff like this."

"This year, I made a record-setting amount of money on the tours," I said. "I've been asked to do a slightly different round for Christmas, so I came up with a program involving a tour of the library, a lesson on paranormal investigation, and then an actual investigation of the library. If I can get seventeen people to attend, I'll have broken a thousand dollars in fundraising for the year. You guys are welcome to come if you'd like."

"I'd love to," said SaraLee. "I didn't get a chance to make your October tours this year."

"I know; I kind of missed you."

"I'd like to be there," said Heather. "I can bring my son."

"I'll reserve you two spots. I'm training my kid to investigate."

"Great."

"Now, I believe we have a gift exchange?" I dug into my bag. "By the way, I got all of you something---I had to guess at the sizes." I handed them small, black rings.

"Nice rings," SaraLee said, trying hers on.

"They take your temperature," I explained.

Millie turned hers over. "Really?" She sounded fairly impressed.

"Well, only in the metric system, but still. You'll see it start around twenty-seven and then creep up until it hits about thirty-six."

"Neat," said Heather, looking at hers.

"I thought we could use them on investigations," I said.

"Where there's a cold spot," said SaraLee. "I like it."

A couple of years ago, the Boss moved my desk so that people knew where to find me. I have never entirely forgiven her for that.

"You're the history expert, aren't you?" the woman asked, approaching my desk. "I have a question. I did my genealogy on a software that's not in use anymore. How can I upgrade it to something new so I can view it?"

"This is why I do all my research on paper," I said. "Been around thousands of years, and it still works."

"Well, I wanted to put it on something digital that works with my new computer," she said. "How can I do that? Do I call the Mormon church? Don't they do genealogy?"

"Well, yes, they do genealogy, but this is more of a tech question than a history question. I'd take it to the techology place downtown and see if they can upgrade it for you."

"You don't think the Mormons would help?"

"Well, they've never helped me any."

As she left, Tammy called out of her office to me. "How's the ghost tours coming?"

"Got three people signed up. Fourteen more, and I've broken a thousand dollars in fundraising for the year."

"Lou," Zach called from the desk. "Phone for you. Your wife."
I was in the middle of processing books. "Thanks, Zach," I called, and picked up the phone. "What's up?"
"We have to pick up Tif," said Michelle. "She's in the Altoona train station. She left on vacation this morning, but there was an accident with her eye and she's losing her vision. Do you want us to pick you up?"
"Yes. Wait, no. I'll meet you at the house."

"We're on our way."

I hung up and stepped into Tammy's office. "Tammy, my daughter had a medical emergency. I'm sorry, but I gotta go."

"Okay. Go. Oh, are you on desk?"

"Yes, at three."

"Go," called Zach. "I got this."

"Thanks, man," I said, and ran for my bike.

Altoona is somewhat over an hour away. I walked into the emergency room a little after six, and it was insane---COVID overflow had pushed some patients into the halls. I found Tif with some difficulty, lying on a gurney outside an office.

"Daddy!" she said.

"Hi, hon," I said. I sat down on a chair. "Talk to me."

"They have to send me to Pittsburgh," she said. "They need a specialist and they can't do the surgery here. They're calling an ambulance to take me."

"Okay. What do you need?"
'Could use a hug."

I hugged her.

"Thanks for coming all this way, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"You haven't done anything wrong. We'll have to get you from Pittsburgh once this is done---We have to go home tonight and take care of Rosie."

"Yeah, I know. I'll call."

"Update us with what's going on. Let us know where we can find you."
"Any chance you can get me something to eat? I'm starved."

"Maybe I can find a vending machine someplace."

There was an old guy with a beard on the next gurney back. He said,"There's a little cafeteria down the hall past the elevators."

"Thanks," I said. "I'll bring you a sandwich or something, hon."

"You know what I like."
"Hey," I said. "It's gonna be okay."

We got the call at 6:48 the next morning. I rolled out of bed to answer the phone, and half an hour later we were on the road, heading to get Tif in Pittsburgh.

"I hope it snows for Christmas," Paul said.

"It might," I said. "We'll see."

"The weather says it'll be hot."

"Oh." I'd had no idea he knew how to check the weather report. "Well, you never know, kid."

"Is Santa real?" Paul asked from the back of the car.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I've been wondering if Santa is real or not," Paul said. "We look for aliens and Yetis and stuff that's maybe real, and I was wondering about Santa."

"Hmm. Well, what do you think?"

"I want to know what you think."

I considered it. My parents had spilled their guts about Santa when I was about six, the very first time I'd ever questioned it. I'd been prepared to do the same thing with Paul, more or less.

But is this really how I want it to happen for him? When he looks back on this in the future, is this what I want him to remember? Finding out just before Christmas, on the way to pick up his sister from a traumatic injury?

"I think he's probably real," I said.

Paul nodded. 

"Me too."

Paul and I brought Tif into her apartment as her cat meowed at her arrival. She sat down in her recliner.

"I'll run and get you some groceries," I said. 
"Can I stay here until you come back?" Paul asked.

"That's actually a pretty good idea," I admitted. "You help your sister. I'll be right back with some food."

"Dad?" Tif said.

I stopped at the door and turned around.

"Thanks for coming to get me," she said.

"Hey," I said. "It's family."

Back to work. When my predecessor had trained me, she'd told me that the first thing she did every day was check her e-mail. I have yet to have a day that organized, but I usually got around to it sometime within the first hour or so. After the e-mail, I went back to see if Tracey had anything for me.

"How's the fundraiser coming?" she asked.

"I have space for thirty people," I said. "If I get seventeen, at ten dollars each, I break a thousand dollars for the year."
"Why is it you can only do math when you're talking about ghosts?"

"So seventeen people is my goal."

"How many do you have signed up?"

"Six. But I just got a couple of e-mails---People deciding on the spur of the moment to come without registering."

"So people aren't bothering to read the ads. But you're making money."

"I know," I said. "It's a Christmas miracle."

I walked down the stairs and to the main desk area. Jim and Mel were finishing closing down.

"Everything locked on the third floor?" Mel asked.

"It was a couple of hours ago when I was up there," I said. "I haven't been up in a while."

"Oh. I'll check. I thought you were up there."

"Nope, did our lesson in the Sloan Room, and then investigated the old bedroom upstairs. We got some evidence---Some sounds and a ten-degree temperature drop."

"Ten degrees is a lot," commented Jim.

"Yep. Not a bad opening night."

"....So that's the basics of ghost hunting," I said, standing in the Sloan Room in front of five people. "Does anyone have any questions?"

Heather's son raised his hand. "How come you're wearing those gloves?"

I glanced down at the fingerless gloves with skulls on them, which I'd put on along with my black ghost sweatshirt. "Well, they protect my hands but I can still use my equipment. I used to wear a whole tactical vest and everything for investigations, but I realized it looked an awful lot like those terrorists on January sixth. Anything else?"

I looked around the table. "Okay, then, We're going to move down the hall and investigate, using the techniques I've taught you. I'd also like to introduce my new teammate, Heather, who is in training tonight."

Heather smiled.

We walked down the hall to the old bedroom. I said,"Everyone thought to be haunting the Ross Library has lived in this room. It was the bedroom of Annie Halenbake Ross, Mary Elizabeth Crocker, Robert Bridgens, and Isabel Welch. I'm going to start taking photos---You guys get some readings with the thermometers and EMF detectors."

We spread out through the room---It had been the boss's old office before she'd moved downstairs. In the old days, it had been the bedroom in the old house. I got photos from several angles while the others checked the readings on their equipment.

"I have a temperature drop over here," reported Heather.

"I'm getting a reading here, in the corner," said Heather's son. "It went up to yellow."

"Okay. Check that. I'm getting photos. Guys, get a temperature baseline over here. I'll start the recording." I turned on my digital recorder. "Recording. December twenty-second, seven sixteen PM, second floor bedroom of the Ross Library. Is there anyone here?"

We moved through the room, getting readings. Then we settled into some of the chairs to do some recording. I sat by the fireplace, monitoring the digital recorder.

"Can you tell us your name?....Did you live in this house?"

"Where do you get all this stuff from?" Heather asked.

"Mostly Amazon," I said. "I shouldn't be allowed to own a credit card and an Amazon account."

"Can you send me links?" she asked.

"Sure. I'd recommend just buying it all at once. You're gonna wind up owning it all anyway; you might as well get it over with."

"Lou," said one woman,"What do you think of other creatures? Didn't you write an article on werewolves a while ago?"

"Over in Northumberland County? Yeah, I did that one. I have some plans to go investigate them this summer, actually. Did a piece on the grave of a vampire up in Erie once, too."

"We got a spike on the electricity," announced Heather's son. "As soon as you mentioned vampires."

"Are you afraid of vampires?" Heather asked the room at large.

"You know, Annie Halenbake Ross was a fan of classic literature," I said. "It's a fair bet she read Dracula at some point."

"That's true," commented Heather.

"Thank you all for donating to the Ross Library," I said. "I appreciate your being here. We're getting a lot of activity tonight."

I walked Heather down to the lobby. "Gotta close up soon," I said. "Thanks for coming."

She smiled. "It was great," she said. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Welcome to LHPS," I said. "Merry Christmas, Heather."

Afterward, I walked through the dark library, hands in my pockets. I did this every once in a while, walked through this place that had become home, looking at it as if it were the first time.

For too long, we've been letting the inconsiderate and cruel people dictate the terms. We've worn masks and been vaccinated while they refuse. My child has been out of school while others spread the virus.

And I've changed my outfit to a less professional, less convenient one to avoid being seen as one of them.

For a year and a half, I haven't been myself. I've been letting the bad guys call the shots. But I've run out of patience for that.

I looked at my reflection in the window.

It's time to take my look back.

Outside, in the alley, it has started to snow. It was about an inch deep already.

I smiled.

Well, how about that.

The next night was Christmas Eve. Paul had been running around all day, tailed by Rosie, getting things ready for Santa. We'd shuffled him off to Tif's place to watch a movie earlier, for the purpose of getting all his gifts wrapped. He was now in the living room, watching a Christmas movie while he wrote another note to Santa.

"Hey, kiddo," I said. "Got your Christmas Eve present. Here."

"No," he said breathlessly. "It can't be." He opened the little box, and slid out a new pocketknife. Bright red, like mine, but smaller. "I don't believe it!"

He hugged me. I said,"Be careful with it, little man, but it's time we upgraded you."

"Thank you, Daddy," he said.

I smiled at my son.

"Merry Christmas, little man."