Homecoming

I was within walking distance of a historic cemetery, a haunted section of town, and several UFO sightings. And, for the moment, I didn't care about any of that.

"You're going to feel a little ouchie," the nurse said,"And then...."

She withdrew the needle. Paul look up at her, and then at me, surprised. 

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it," the nurse confirmed. "You just got your first COVID vaccine. We'll need you to wait fifteen minutes in the waiting room, and you'll be back in two weeks for your second dose."

Paul turned to me.

"Can we get McDonald's?"

"Grandpa's house is bigger than I remember it," Paul said, looking out the car window as we drove up the road.

"Well, it's been two years since we've been here," I said.

Michelle turned the Prius into the driveway, and we parked. Truth was, it looked a little different to me, too. One of the many things COVID had taken away was two years' worth of visits home for me. Last year, we'd painted a ladder as a substitute Christmas tree. With Paul half-vaccinated, we'd now decided we could get away with a trip back to the tree farm I'd grown up on.

We got out of the car, and I released Rosie from the back. My brother was waiting in the barnyard.

I gave him a hug. "Hey, Jon."
"Glad you could make it back," he said.

Rosie barked at him, retreating several steps. Jon laughed. "Are you suspicious of me?"

"She takes a while to warm up to adults," I said.

"Hi, Uncle Jon!" Paul said. "Rosie wants to play with Miles!"

"Let me walk Rosie around a bit," I said. "And then we'll be in. So where's the best place to find a tree this year?"

"Go on down in the back, past the barn," Jon said. "And take a walk down to the creek. We've done some work down there."

I walked Rosie around the yard, and looked toward the back of the garage. Drawn on the back of the garage wall, in white chalk, were Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and a Yeti, clearly labeled in a scrawling handwriting. I could still remember the day I'd put them there.

Six years old. I chalked the Yeti on the wall to join Bigfoot and Nessie, scribbling their names next to them. "It's a museum," I explained to my brother. "I captured these monsters and put them in the museum for people to see."

"Did you ask Dad if you could draw on this wall?" my brother asked me.

"Um," I said. "Maybe he won't notice."

"Would you like some coffee?" my father asked, settling himself onto the kitchen chair.

"No, thanks, Dad," I said. "I'm good. But thanks."

He shook his head. "Staying in for a while. The older I get, the less I can handle the cold."

"Yeah, I get that," I said. "I have less tolerance for it myself. I'm getting older, too."

I walked through the house a while. It was the house I'd grown up in....But it wasn't. The bedrooms on the second floor had been converted into offices. The bathroom had been redecorated twice since I'd moved to Lock Haven. The upstairs hallway was in the process of being repainted.

Downstairs, my brother's wife Amy was bringing out a backpack full of gifts for Paul. She said,"These are....Well, I don't know how long. It's been a while."

"Yeah, COVID," I said. "We didn't want to risk spreading it in either direction. But now that we're vaccinated, we'll be able to get away with a few more visits."

"I love this backpack!" Paul said.

"We can make that into a go bag for you," I said. "Like I have. Put some flashlights and stuff in it."
My brother appeared in the doorway. "We actually considered that," he said. "But I wasn't sure how you'd feel about giving the kid knives and lighters."

"I'm actually pretty okay with it," I said. "During our lockdown, I taught him a lot of survival skills. Gave him a Swiss Army knife for his birthday. He's learned to be pretty responsible."

"Colored pencils!" Paul said, delighted. "What's this?" He picked up a TV tray with Smurfs on it, and my name written carefully on it in my mother's handwriting.

"That used to be mine," I said. "I used that for homework and stuff when I was your age."
"It's Paul's now," said Amy.

"Well, I love it," said Paul. "I'm going to use it at home."

"I made a lot of plans on that when I was around your age," I said.

Seven years old. "I heard something," I said. "Let's check if there's a ghost in the closet."

"What if there is?" asked my cousin Jan. I pushed my way into the bedroom, followed by my cousins, Jan, Jim, and Pat.

"I'll find a way to catch it," I said. "Maybe I can make something out of the washing machine."

"Aren't we supposed to be in bed?" asked Jim.

"Well, yes," I admitted,"But we're the Ghost Gang. And we have to search if there's a ghost in the house."

"How about our house?" asked Jan.

"We'll do that next time," I said. "I'm working on a way to catch a ghost in a jar and freeze it."

"Thanks for getting together with me," I said to Resurrection Casey as we walked along the top of the ridge. 

"Thanks for giving me the chance, boss," she said. "Been too long."
I nodded. "How you been doing?"

"I'm holding up, I guess. Thought I might graduate this spring, but COVID messed that up. I'm vaccinated, though."

"Yeah, me too. Not due for a booster yet. But Paul's vaccinated now, which is a relief. We're considering sending him back to school in January."

Casey looked out over the fields. "You ever see Bigfoot out here as a kid?"

"Always hoped to. My dad made up a story about a cryptid called the Great Christmas Tree Goblin, kind of a green Bigfoot."

She nodded. "So, how are you holding up?"

"About as well as anyone. Which is to say, not great. I'm having some nightmares, and I've been about as stable as a Squonk. I read an article where people were crying in the shower, but I can't even do that because Paul and Rosie always come barging in there."

"You know, you ever need to talk...."

"I'll call. You, too."

"I know."

Michelle and I walked down the path, toward the creek. I looked off into the woods. Rosie was running around with us. Rosie sees no point in being very far away from her people.

"I had a fort over there," I said. "Built it when I was a kid. I thought it was a pretty good piece of construction. I started it myself one summer, and kept adding on, and Kline came to help out later on."
"Is this where you guys camped?"

"Sometimes," I said. "Down here in the meadow, a lot, in the summer. Up in the springhouse in the winter. Paul tells me I like nature better than he does."

"Well, maybe he'll grow into it."

We stopped by the creek, where my brother had constructed a stone bridge in a feat of engineering. I said,"We used to build dams down here a lot, and other stuff, from here all the way to the pond. It's grown up a lot more than it used to be. I had a thousand adventures in these woods."

Eleven years old. I took the hammer and whanged a nail into place on a large empty can, sort of compiling together the can, the nail, some metal mesh I'd found, and tied a rope around the whole thing. My father looked it over as he walked past.

"What're you constructing?" he asked.

"I am making," I declared,"A sea monster trap."

"I see. You're going to catch sea monsters with that?"

"Yep. See, the sea monster will swim in here, and get caught in this netting, and won't be able to get out."

"What are you going to do with the sea monster when you get him?"

"Keep it."

"Where are you going to launch your sea monster trap?" 

"In the pond," I said, naming the only body of water I had access to.

"I'm not sure there are any sea monsters in the pond," Dad said.

I picked up the trap. "Well, we're going to find out, aren't we?"

We pulled up on Hill Street, in lower Slatington. I said,"This here, Paul, is the Hundred Steps." There was a long, high set of concrete stairs running up the hill. "Every time you count them, you come up with a different number. I've been trying for years. People around here believe that if you ever count them and get to a hundred, you'll disappear."

"I don't want to disappear."

"Nobody ever gets to a hundred. You coming with me?"

"Do I have to wear shoes?"

"I suppose."

We got out of the car and headed up the steps. Paul counted aloud as we walked, and I counted silently. I could see him grinning as we walked all the way up to the top.

"Ninety," he said.

"I got ninety-three."

"Does it always do that?"

"Pretty much, ever since I was a kid."

"I had fun today," he said. "So did Rosie."

"Yeah," I said. "It's been too long since we visited. But now that we're all vaccinated....We can visit more."

Back in Lock Haven. I sat with Paul, who was happily drawing with his colored pencils, using the tray he'd been given while he watched TV. Rosie was curled up beside him, sleeping off her busy day.

"You know what my favorite present is, Daddy?" he asked.

"I'm going to guess the colored pencils."

"No. It's this tray. Because it's yours."

"Well, now it's yours, little man." I looked at my name on the tray in permanent marker. "My mother wrote that there when I was your age."

"Will you write my name on it?"

"Soon as I find a permanent marker, sure."

"That way," he said,"I'll give it to my kid one day. And I'll write their name on it, too."

SaraLee's Territory

It was a haunted hotel. Old, run-down, it looked dangerous to be in. I walked across the lawn and to the doors.

I'd been in it before, but more and more, I had this feeling of dread---Like I was pushing my luck. Every time I entered, it increased the danger, and one of these times, the hotel was going to kill me.

It felt like this was the time. This time I was going to die.

I opened the door. Inside, I could see furniture, broken and dirty. I looked through the door for a moment, feeling more and more afraid.

Then I stepped inside.

I woke up suddenly, sitting up in bed. I exhaled. 

Just a nightmare.

I got out of bed, wearing my Yeti pajamas. I walked down the hall to the bathroom. Little Rosie, the lab puppy, joined me on the trip, coming out of my son's room.

Standing in the hall for a moment, I fell into a habit Id' developed during COVID. I thought, Today is Thursday. I'm working at one. On desk at two. Program tonight. I'd begun rolling these thoughts around in my head whenever I woke up, as a way of keeping track.

Rosie followed me back down the hallway.

"Good girl. Now go back to bed."
Rosie retreated to Paul's room, and I went back to my own. I could hear Ida in the hall, disembodied footsteps walking back and forth. It was a relief to wake up in my own haunted house, with the ghost I'm used to.

"Excuse me. Are you Lou?"

"That's me." I looked up, with a sinking feeling. The guy at the desk was familiar, and I realized he was the same guy who'd been sending me messages all morning, trying to convince me that his phone app was reliable for ghost-hunting. I'd stopped responding; he wasn't about to be persuaded that it was a cheap toy.

Looks like he'd tracked me down.

"Yeah, I wanted to show you this app. It's actually really legitimate, I've checked it out. I was up in the cemetery, and it was giving me all sorts of statements. It works on a laser grid that can detect human shapes---"

I held up a hand. "Look, I know all about these apps. They're clearly labeled as entertainment only. I prefer not to trust them."

"But this one's really good. Look at the human shape I got---"

"They're made to interpret just about anything as a human shape," I said. "Fog. Branches. The same with the sounds---They are programmed to randomly create words. If you didn't find anything, you wouldn't pay for the app."

'It's free."

"You trying to tell me that someone invented an app that genuinely detects dead people, and decided the best use was to hand it out free?"

"I'd really like to check it out in here," he said. "I understand Miss Ross is haunting the place?"

I thought it over. "Well, it's a public library," I said. "As long as you're sticking to the public areas and not bothering anyone, you're welcome to come in and do whatever."

"I'd rather do it at night."

"We're open until eight."

"I was hoping for maybe a little more than that," he said. "Maybe you let me in overnight? Ghost hunter to ghost hunter?"

I shook my head. "Can't do that."

"Come on, man," he said. "Just because I use an app? We could be partners."

I shook my head again.

"I already have partners."

"What we need," I said,"Is an investigation."
I sat in the living room, Millie to my right, SaraLee to my left. Ashlin was across from me in the recliner. 

"What we need are a couple more members," said Millie.

"That's true," I agreed. "We need to find a couple of good people. But we're also out of practice. We need to get better at being a team again. For that matter, since it came up....Look, when Theresa left, we never really held a vote on the new leader. Everyone just kind of turned to me. I realize it was never officialized, so....I wanted to correct that. If anyone else wants to step up, I'm cool with that."

Millie shook her head. "You were second in command. It should be you."

"Agreed," said Ashlin.

"Am I hearing you right, Lou?" asked SaraLee. "You're finding it too much, or something?"

"No, I'm not. In fact, I haven't been great at at," I admitted. "I'll keep doing it if that's what we all want. I just realized that we never formalized it."

She smiled. "I'm right behind you."
"Okay, then. We need to get back to working as a team. I bought us all matching masks," I said. I handed everyone a mask; they all said "I'm with a ghost." "Now we need to find a way to practice."

"There's still my place," said SaraLee.

"I'm cool with that." I said. "Let's pick a date. We're going to Bellefonte."

Ashlin pulled up to pick me up on time, and Paul ran out to give her a hug. Paul has adored Ashlin since he was one year old. Ashlin hugged him, and said,"How you doing there, buddy?"

"Good," said Paul. "You and Daddy going to find a ghost tonight?"

"Hope so," said Ashlin.

"What time will you be home, Daddy?" he asked.

"Hopefully about eight-thirty."
"Okay."

I gave him a hug and a kiss, and he turned and trudged back toward the house, looking glum. I got into Ashlin's car.

"He gets upset when I have to leave," I said. "It bothers him when I'm not around."

"Probably a COVID thing," said Ashlin. "Anxiety."

"Yeah," I said. "Been feeling some anxiety myself."

We pulled up in front of SaraLee's house a little after six. The clocks had been set back the night before, so now it was getting dark in about two minutes every day at three-thirty. I was wearing my uniform and the black jacket with all the buttons, and I grabbed my pack and rang the doorbell.

SaraLee came to the door, and I gave her a hug. 

"Happy birthday, pal," I said, and handed her a book. She sat down on the couch and began paging through it.

"It's Mountain Folks," I said. "A bunch of good legends and stories from our area. I thought you might like it."

"Thank you," she said. "Got you something, too." She handed me a small Bigfoot coloring book---"That's for Paul," she said---A Bigfoot figurine and two UFO stickers.

"Got these in my travels," she said. "I thought of you."
I smiled. "Thanks, pal."

We all sat down in the living room.

"Calvin," called SaraLee. "Bring my stuff."

"Why?" called a voice from the next room.

"Because I asked you to."

A moment later, SaraLee's son Calvin came in with a hard plastic case. He set it down in front of her, and she opened it up. She had it filled with equipment, and she pulled each item out.

"REM pod," she said. "Digital recorder. Laser thermometer from my bestie....Light ball...."

"A light ball?" Millie asked. "Haven't heard of those."

"Well, it's a cat toy," admitted SaraLee. "But it lights up when anyone bumps it, and it comes in sets of twelve for about a buck."

"A trigger object," I realized. "But a trigger object that you'd notice when it happened. That's actually pretty brilliant."

She smiled.

I unpacked my stuff. "Got two cameras, two laser thermometers, digital recorder, my K2 meter...."

"You got a black one," Millie commented.

"Yeah, I just grabbed the cheapest one on Amazon. Who wants what?"

I began to pull my fingerless gloves on. The new ones had skulls on them. Ashlin said,"Those are new."

"Making a few changes to the outfit," I said. "I'm going a little goth. Skulls on the gloves and boots."

"Are you having a midlife crisis, Lou?" Millie asked.

"Almost certainly. But still making an effort not to look like a cop or a terrorist."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

I grinned.

"Let's get to work."

"We get activities in all the bedrooms," said SaraLee as we walked down the hall. "We can spread out and cover them all."

"Last time, we had someone in the hallway," I said. "I'll cover that."

"Master bedroom," called Ashlin.

Millie went into one of the kid bedrooms, and SaraLee and Calvin took the other. I set down my K2 meter and my digital recorder.

"Turning on. It's November 7, six forty-five PM, SaraLee's house in Bellefonte. Lou, in the hallway."

"Ashlin, master bedroom."
"SaraLee and Calvin, Chloe's bedroom."

"Millie, Calvin's room."

"Is there anyone here?" I asked.

We let the recorders run for a while---An actual EVP session is not the most exciting thing to describe---And then my recorder beeped. 

"What the hell?"

"What's up?" asked Ashlin.

"My recorder went dead. These were fresh batteries."

"Weird."

"I just charged these."

'I have a light in here," said Millie. "Green light, on the wall!"
"Get photos and readings," I called.

"The DVD player just went on in here," said SaraLee. 

"Cat ball is lighting up," Ashlin said. "I'm getting photos."
Camera flashes began going off. I called out,"Ashlin, do you have a good angle on Millie?"

"Not really. I can see the REM pod and the bed, but not much else."

"Okay, I'm getting photos. You concentrate on what you can see from there."

I moved down the hall and into the bedroom, where Millie was sitting on the bed with her EMF detector. She pointed at the wall. "Right there."

I snapped photos, turning throughout the room to get every angle. Then I moved throughout the hallway and back down into the other bedroom, where SaraLee and Calvin were taking measurements. I snapped some photos of the DVD player, which had turned off again.

"Everything all at once," I said. "That's pretty impressive."

"The DVD player just came on, and then off again."
"Mark it on the recorders," I said. "Seven-ten PM. We got this."

After the investigation, we packed up. I gave SaraLee a hug. 

"Thanks, pal," I said. "See you at the next meeting."

"Thanks for coming over," she said.

We went out and climbed into Ashlin's car. She pulled back out into the street.

"Good investigation," I said.

"Yeah," agreed Ashlin. "It was."

"Cat balls," I said. "Hunh."

When Ashlin pulled up in front of my place, Paul immediately came running off the porch to greet me. I gave him a hug.

"Tell me you weren't sitting out here in the cold all night."
"No, I just came out."

"Okay, good. How's Rosie?"

"She misses you."

I smiled.

"Well, I miss her, too," I said. "Let's go in and say hi."

A Book By Its Cover

"Package for you, Dad." Tif slid the Amazon packet across the table. It was the size of an encyclopedia, which was far too big.

"What is it?" Paul asked eagerly.

"Got new gloves for ghost hunting," I said. I slipped two pairs of fingerless gloves out of the package and put one on. They were fingerless, black, and had patches with white skulls on the back.

"Cool!" said Paul with some enthusiasm.

"You like these?"
"Yeah! They're really cool!"

"You needed more gloves?" Tif asked.

"Different gloves. I changed my outfit over a year ago to avoid looking like a cop or those terrorists who raided the Capitol in January. The new outfit's been cool, but it's a little inconvenient. Eventually, it'll be time to go back to the tactical vest; I haven't worn them almost since COVID began. But I wanted to add some details to make it look less like a terrorist."

"So you got goth gloves."

"They'll work with the ghost hunting, but no cop or paramilitary Trumper would ever wear gloves with skulls."

"You ought to add a pride pin," suggested Tif. "No redneck terrorist would ever wear one of those, either."

"You're right, they wouldn't," I said. "Not a bad idea."

"I'm here." That's our code phrase, our signal that we're ready to take over the desk. We all say it. Mel stood up from the chair.

"If you get bored, there's quite an interesting little spider in the flower vase," she said. "He was trying to spin a web, but every time he dropped down, I blew on him. It got to the point where he'd climb back up if he saw me lean over."

"So you trained a spider," I said.

"I trained a spider."

"It's been a really slow night, I take it."

"It has, and it's all yours now." Mel headed for her office. I sat down in the chair.

A little while later, Zach came down the stairs.

"Hey, Lou, I need you to do me a favor."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"If you need to go upstairs, use the Sloan Room or the back stairs. Not that main stairs."

"Can do."

"I found a nest of bees in one of the lights from that hallway. I know you're mildly allergic, so...."

"God, yes. Thanks, man. I'll avoid that area. Don't want to have to go to the hospital."

"Didn't you get stung last year, and Paul treated you?"

"Yeah. He treated me for the wrong injury, but still. It's nice to know he learned some stuff."

The phone rang. I picked it up and said,"Ross Library."

"Hi, I'd like to register for the ghost tours. Do you still have spaces available?"

"Oh, sure," I said. "I have tours open. What night do you want?"

"....And that's the status of the roof repairs," our maintenance man announced in the staff meeting. "Anyone have any questions?"

"Yes," I said. "When will the bee problem be fixed?"

"Right, the bees," he said. "I'm working on that."

"Just call an exterminator," said the Boss. "Lou, what do you have for us?"

"Well, the tours," I said. "The haunted tours are my thing right now. I'm signing people up and making them pre-pay because of COVID. Last year, I made a record-setting amount of money, six hundred and seventy-five dollars. This year, I'm hoping to beat that, but it'll take more sign-ups than I have now. Right now I'm at three hundred and thirty, which is a little less than half my goal."

"Now you're good at math?" asked Tracey.

"How much could you make, potentially?" Barb asked.

"If I booked every tour solid, I could do seven hundred," I said. "The problem I'm having is that people delay calling, so I do the first few with light audiences, and then it gets busier."

"Any problems getting the ghosts to show up?" Jim asked.

I grinned. "No, the ghosts are pretty much okay."

After the meeting, I usually walked down through the old part of the building, through the twisty hallways. But that would require getting past the bees, and frankly, visiting the bee section does nothing for me personally. I went down the stairs in the tower.

At my desk, there was a message to call Barb from the Renovo branch. I dialed her on my cell phone.

She greeted me the way she usually does.

"You're gonna think I'm crazy," she said.

"I haven't yet," I said. "What can I do for you, Barb?"

"Well, it's weird. A while ago, at a bookstore in New Jersey, my husband bought this old copy of Dracula. I was mad as hell at how much he paid for it. It's got this art on the cover.....Looks like a human face, with weird fangs and stuff, like it was sculpted from human skin. I mean, it's really, really creepy. I can text you a photo."

"My phone is a low-tech thing," I said. "Send it by Facebook."

"Facebook, got it. Since he brought it home, weird things have been happening. I mean, it's been really strange. I'm sending the photo. Did you get it?"

I looked at my messages. If anything, Barb's description had underplayed the visual of this book. It showed what appeared to be a human face with fangs, severed and stretched out to cover the book. Eyeless sockets and a screaming mouth. This thing was nightmare fuel.

"Jesus, Barb," I said. "That thing creeps me out, and I'm used to this stuff. What sort of weird things are happening?"

"The TV comes on at night, just turning on to channels we never watch. It's weird, it happens when we're asleep. My daughter says she saw a dark figure in her bedroom. My husband had a weird kind of seizure; that's never happened before. I've never even seen a seizure; the tests didn't detect anything."

"So you have been to the doctor. Good, that was my first thought. I'd be irresponsible if I didn't suggest that."

"Yeah, we went, but found nothing. The book just creeps me out completely."

"Have you checked to see if there are neighbors whose garage door opener, say, is on your frequency?"

"I'll check. We're pretty far from the other houses, though."
"I'm gonna suggest a little experimentation. Try getting the book out of the house for a while, and see if things calm down. If you have a safe deposit box, maybe, or lock it in a closet at the library for a couple days. See what happens."

"That's a good idea. I'll start with that."

"If you can send me the information on the store where he got it, I'll contact them and see what I can learn."

"We still have the receipt. I'll send a photo of that, too."

"I'll see what I can find out and get back to you, Barb."

"Thanks so much, Lou."

"Hey. One Christmas, you gave me a pretty good investigation up there. Maybe this will keep me busy for a while, too."

I walked into Momoyo Otsu, the clothing store downtown, wearing my paranormal outfit with all the buttons on the jacket. The cashier looked up and said,"Hi! We haven't seen you in a while!"

"Yeah, the kid's been doing online school, mostly," I said. "He hasn't been able to talk his mother into bringing him down for a while. Hanna said it would be okay if I came in and took a few measurements....I have this building on my tour."

"Oh, sure," she said. "Hanna won't mind. Go ahead."

I pulled some of my equipment out of my pack. Walking around the room, among the clohting racks, I took some temperature readings---It held steady at a baseline of about sixity-nine degrees. Then I did another round with the K2 meter, and watched as the lights jumped to yellow.

"How's the little guy?" she asked.

"He's good. Doing his social studies when I left the house. He's a good little guy."
"We all love him here. We love when he comes in; he's always so happy."

"He'd be here every day if he could," I said. "I wouldn't mind stopping back sometime for a more thorough investigation, if that's allright."
"I'm sure that would be great," she said.

When I got into the library, my mailbox was stuffed. One payment for a tour, plus several messages requesting spots. I flipped through them and dropped them on my desk.

Okay, I have almost three hundred dollars in hand now. Over five hundred once all the checks come through. My goal is to beat the six seventy-five I made last year. A dozen stops on the tour, including some new ones....

I was pacing around my office. I stopped and looked out the window, staring at West Main Street.

And what is this unfamiliar feeling? Is this nervousness? I've given these tours a million times....Why would I be feeling stage fright now?

I turned and walked across the room, looking at the 1852 map.

Because I want this to matter.

Every October, it's my chance to do something good for the library. My chance to give something back. And I want to make it happen as best I can.

I stood in front of the crowd of ten people---Plus Michelle, Paul, and Rosie. I stood in front of the library, along Main Street, in my paranormal outfit....And no nervousness. Nothing. Because at this point, it's just doing what I do.

"Thank you for coming to the haunted tours, and supporting the Ross Library," I began. "One thing I'd like you to know is that I research all of this. If I say something, I can prove it. Nothing drives me crazy faster than someone claiming to have a haunting without evidence. If I say someone died in a house, I can show you a document that proves that. Now, if you'd like to follow me, we'll get started."

As we walked down Main Street I dug into my small pack and handed Paul my K2 meter.

"Your favorite store is coming up, kid. You know how to use this; get some readings."

"Okay, Daddy." Paul began to move the meter around smoothly across the front windows of the building.

"This building, now a popular local clothing store, was once the pharmacy of a Lock Haven mayor," I said. "Mayor Edgar Heffner was the oldest mayor we ever had at the time of election, and the man who brought Piper to Lock Haven. It's thought that he or one of his customers may be haunting the place."
"Daddy! I got a reading!" Paul called out delightedly.

"Tour on line one." Mel handed the phone to me. I hit the button to take the call.

"Hello, may I help you?"
"I'd like to book three tickets for tonight's tour."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Tonight is already booked solid. Is there another night I could fit you in?"

"Damn. My parents are in town, and they really wanted to come to this one. They're leaving tomorrow morning."
I thought it over, and rapidly came to two conclusions:
A- As far as COVID precautions went, there wasn't much difference between ten people and thirteen people, and---

B- The Board would never know.

"Okay," I said,"I'll bend the rules. You can bring fifteen bucks and pay at the door."

I sat at my desk and checked my e-mail. I'd used the LHPS e-mail to contact the bookstore, hoping to lend myself some credibility. There was a response---Probably they'd checked me out and figured I was legit. Or maybe they responded to everyone, no matter how insane. I knew from experience that was a bad policy, but you never know.

I got out my cell phone and dialed Barb.

"Hey, Barb. It's Lou. Is now an okay time?"

"Oh, sure. What's up?"

"Well, I contacted the bookstore, and they tell me it's just a regular book with cover art done by a local artist. They sell them routinely out there. If you'd like to bring it down, I can run a few tests on it."

"Yeah. That's a good idea."

"They said there's no reason to think it's paranormal. So we may want to consider a different direction here. This is the time when I gotta tell you I may sound crazy."

"Hey, I've done it to you," she said.

"Couple of questions. How old is your daughter?"

"She's eighteen."

"How did she feel about that book?"

"Oh, she was all excited."

"Okay. You may want to keep an eye on her, maybe talk to her a bit. I've never personally dealt with this---I'm a little out of my depth here----But there's some thought that poltergeist activity can be caused by a teenage girl who may not even know she's doing it."

"Oh, great."

"I don't know this for sure. I've never really been hit with this kind of thing before. But some people think that these things can be caused  by a teenage girl. It seems to always be a girl, not a boy. Generally she grows out of it, this stuff stops after a while. We may want to check out that possibility."

"Now, that's interesting. Now that you mention it, the other night she was out of the house....And the TV didn't turn on."

"It's something to look into," I said.

I stood in my home office, gathering the things I'd need for an investigation. K2 meter. Thermometer. Fingerless gloves. I pulled them from the shelf and put them in my pack.

I looked at the vest---The black tactical vest with the alien patch on it, hanging on a hook. I took a long look at it.

Then I shook my head and put on my jacket with all the pins.

Sometime soon.

But not yet.

Paul and I met Hanna, the owner of Momoyo Otsu, outside the store on the sidewalk. She approached to open the door, saying,"Sorry I was running a little behind."

"We just got here ourselves," I said. 

Hanna opened the door, and we walked in. She turned on the lights as I set my pack on the floor.

"Paul, get photos." I handed him a camera. "Every room, every angle."

Paul began moving around the room, getting pictures. I circled the room and snapped some shots myself. I asked Hanna,"Is there anywhere that's a hot spot? Someplace with a lot of activity?"
"There's a mirror up on the second floor where we've seen a lot of stuff."

I asked Paul,"Do you want the K2 meter or the laser thermometer?"

"The thermometer," Paul said immediately.

I gave him the laser thermometer, and he walked around the room, taking measurements. I called,"Make sure you get a baseline."

With the K2 meter, I walked up the stairs, checking the electrical output. I took some readings around the mirror in the upstairs room, until Paul called out below,"Dad! The earrings just fell off the rack!"

"Coming," I called.

Hanna followed me down the steps, where Paul was waiting by the jewelry rack. He said,"One of those earrings just fell on the floor."

"That necklace is moving on its own," Hanna said, pointing at a necklace swinging back and forth on the rack.

I approached with the K2. "Paul, get pictures. Then we'll do an EVP session."

"That's my favorite!" said Paul. "I want to ask the first question!"

"You can ask the first question."

Half an hour later, we were walking out onto the sidewalk, carrying my pack. I said,"Hey. Paul."

My son looked up at me.

I said,"Nice job. You did really, really good today."

I walked down the street in the dark, hands in my pockets, feeling very casually happy. Behind me, a crowd of ten people followed along. The tours had been packed this year, and the audiences had been very receptive.

It was good. A lot had been wrong with things lately---It had been depressing as hell. But this, these tours, they were good. I had a couple of families and a small cluster of girl scouts on this one, and they were enjoying it.

I stopped in front of the library and turned to the crowd. "Everyone, I'd like to thank you for coming tonight and supporting the Ross Library," I said. "I'm pleased to announce that as of tonight, I've broken my record. We've made over seven hundred dollars on these tours, and it's because of your interest and generosity. Thank you."

Quick round of applause.

"Now, before we go home for the night, I have one more story to tell. So everyone settle in."
One of the little girl scouts stepped up. "Lou?"

"Yes, Amelia?"

She looked up at me. "You give the best haunted tours."

I smiled.

"Thanks, kiddo. That means a lot."

Quoth The Haven

Thy soul shall find itself alone

'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone---

Not one, of all the crowd, to pry

Into thine hour of secrecy...

"This is your brain on ghost stories."

I cracked a couple of eggs into a measuring cup and scrambled them up. With Michelle and Paul out on a shopping spree, I had some time to make myself breakfast. Rosie followed along, because you never know, I might drop something edible. 

From the front room, I heard a bark. Just one single, very familiar-sounding bark. Like fifteen years worth of familiar.

I set down the knife and walked into the room. I glanced out the front window---Nobody was out on the sidewalk.

I looked down at Duke's empty bed. 

"Duke?" I whispered. "You there? I miss you, buddy."

I felt myself beginning to cry. "You were such a good dog. I loved you, pal. Things just aren't the same without you. I hope you're still around; I hope you can hear me. I miss you so, so much."

I sat casually at the meeting, taking notes in the haunted house. When your best friends are ghost hunters, that happens.

Millie, Ashlin, and SaraLee sat with me in the living room. The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers were back to meeting once a month, which we hadn't been able to do since February of 2020, when COVID hit.

The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers were back.

"So anything else for us, Lou?" Millie asked.

"I met with my editor recently," I said. "Turns out, her family owns the Straub Brewery up in Saint Marys. Great beer. They're convinced it's haunted, and they'd love to have us up there. Maybe for a public event in a year, once COVID numbers are down."

"I have a feeling that won't be until July of 2022," said SaraLee. "But I'm in."

"I knew you'd be."

"What about the other investigations?" Millie asked. "Should we start requiring proof of vaccination?"

"You know, that's a good idea," I said. "Things aren't going to be getting any better until it becomes more of a problem to stay unvaccinated. We really should do that. I'll contact our clients and ask."

"What we need," Millie said,"Is a place where we can just go and investigate, without a client."

SaraLee held up her hand. I turned and looked at her.

"That's right, your place," I said slowly. "That's a great idea. I'm in."

"We have activity," SaraLee said. "And I'll have you guys in anytime."
"I love it," I said. "Let's do that for our next meeting, in September."

"Are we bringing all of the equipment, or just the personal stuff?" Millie asked.

"Let's go with just the smaller stuff," I said. "We'll do an inventory in October, check to see what still works. We always have the October meetings at your place anyway, Millie. I'll wear my new outfit....I changed it a year ago. You guys remember the tactical vest? I got rid of that because it looked too much like the terrorists who raided the Capitol."

"Yeah," Millie said,"You don't want to be associated with them."

"Instead I went with a more casual outfit, with buttons and stuff all over it. Nobody mistakes that for a terrorist."

"You ever going back to the vest?" asked SaraLee.

"I don't know. When the world calms down, maybe."

"Do me a favor," I said to my daughter. "Find our when Edgar Allen Poe died."

My daughter Tif picked up her tablet from the kitchen table. "Alexa," she said. "When did Edgar Allen Poe die?"

That annoyingly calm computer voice came on. "Edgar Allen Poe died on October seventh, 1849."

"Okay," I said. "That checks out."

"Do I want to know why I just did that?" Tif asked.

"I was talking to Kevin the other day," I said. "You remember my friend Kevin? The Thunderbird specialist from New Jersey? He turned up documentation of an old Shoemaker story that suggested Edgar Allan Poe carved his initials on a cave in Centre County."

"Cool!" said Tif.

"I'm a little dubious on that," I said. "But when I was checking some of the local ghost books in my office, I found a mention of the Eutaw House. Supposedly, Poe stayed there overnight once, about 1836, when he was visiting family in the area, maybe trying to deal with a family member's death. It's said that he carved his initials in one of the tables there: EAP. The house has been around since about 1823, and if Poe didn't died until 1849, the timing at least works out. It's said he's still haunting the place."

"That's really cool," said Tif.

"I'm not sure how true it is."

"Shut up."
"Hey!" said Paul, playing with Rosie on the other end of the table. "Don't tell Dad to shut up!"

"I want to think Edgar Allen Poe is haunting the area."

"Well, I'm working on that," I said. "I actually have something else going in Centre County right now. I'm going to check into this Poe thing at the same time."

"Hey, Lou, you know where Reeder's Tavern is?"

I turned from where I was ordering breakfast. The question came from the cluster of old guys drinking coffee at a table---Every fast food place has them. I think they're mandated by federal law. "I think so," I said. "Up along the pike?"

"Yeah, that's the place," said the guy. "There's a cemetery up there, just before you get to it. It's on the left. We were wondering what that was."

"It's on the left," said another guy.

"I'd have to look it up," I said. "Feel free to stop by the library----"

"Yeah, we wondered about that," the guy continued. "It's a little thing, right by the side of the road. It's hard ot describe where it is---"

"No, I got that---"

"It's on the left," the second guy said again.

"There are seventy-three cemeteries in Clinton County," I said. "I don't have them all memorized. But we have all the cemetery records, so I can look it up."

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to say where. But it's up along the pike, near the Black Forest. You ever go to the Black Forest?"

"I'll check into this," I said. I turned to the guy at the counter, who was watching with some amusement. "Ham and egg sandwich, please."

I biked back to the library. The weather was cool and the leaves were just beginning to turn. I've always loved autumn more than any other season. Something about the fall energizes me, makes me feel as if there are new adventures ahead.

Back at the library, I pulled the Gallagher Township cemetery booked and checked the map. Up about where they were describing was Luculls Cemetery, which was indeed on the left. I dialed down to the shop.

"Hi, it's Lou....I was just in there? Are the seniors with the coffee still there? I was wondering if you could pass on a message for me. It's Lucullus Cemetery, founded 1862. Yes, that's right. Thank you."

Okay. Serious research. I started with "Haunted Pennsylvania," re-reading what I'd already discovered. then I checked the index file---You never know, sometimes you get lucky. There was one mention of Edgar Allan Poe---He came up in a Henry Shoemaker story called "She Knew The Poet" from the Indian Steps book. It's right across from my desk, so I pulled it and read the story.

Shoemaker had Poe visiting the area around 1836 or so, staying in a local mansion called the Walters Mansion, and falling in love with a woman who lived there. I cross-referenced it---I checked the location of the Eutaw House, and then pulled the 1874 map of Centre County. I found property very near the location owned by a family named Walter---John Walter, George Walter.

Hot damn! Corroboration. That felt good. Is it haunted, or not? Only your paranormal investigator knows for sure.

Lunch time. I pulled my food out of my pack and went upstairs. Paul had been making me sandwiches to take to lunch lately---With COVID numbers rising, I wasn't going out and getting lunch anymore. I was eating upstairs to avoid sitting at my desk maskless.

Today's sandwich was salami and ham. I sat down to eat it. I'd had an enjoyable summer full of cryptids, but it was nice to be diving headfirst into ghosts and old legends again. I perused "Haunted Pennsylvania" again while I ate.

Harrison Shawley had bought the Eutaw House in 1939. He claimed to have found the old sign in the attic and renamed the hotel, and found the initials EAP carved on a table. Shawley had been the one to start publicizing the story of Poe's visit.

So, a timeline....

1823: The Eutaw House built. 1836-ish: Poe allegedly visits. 1912: Shoemaker writes about it, with a certain amount of embellishment. 1939: Shawley maybe reads the Shoemaker story and starts telling poeple that Poe visited.

Edgar Allan Poe. 1939. I'd heard those things together before. Why was this banging on my subconcious so hard....?

After a moment, it hit me.

"The Poe Toaster," I said to Tif. "You familiar with the Poe Toaster?"

"Is that an appliance?"

"It is not," I said. "Beginning sometime in the 1930s, a guy in an overcoat and hat started showing up at Poe's grave once a year. He would leave roses and take a shot of cognac, then disappear. Happened annually until 2009, and then he wasn't seen again."

"Oh cool. Now that you mention it, I think I heard something about that. I didn't know about the cognac, though."

I was cooking dinner. Rosie sat down at my feet as I chopped kielbasa. I dropped a piece for her; Rosie gets a lot of table scraps. "Here's the thing. Harrison Shawley bought the Eutaw House in 1939, and needed a way to publicize it. He was the one who claimed to have discovered the initials carved in the table."

"You think he was the Poe Toaster," said Tif.

"I think Shawley may have been the Poe Toaster."

"How long did he live?"

"I checked the cemetery records. Shawley died in 1988, but he had a son and then a grandson. The grandsom died in 2009, which is when the Poe Toaster stopped. So the times work out. The Poe Toaster may have been from Centre County."

"That's cool. You going to write about this?"

"Nevermore."

"Okay, where do you want me?" I walked out onto the patio, where staff and volunteers were unpacking boxes of books for the annual fundraiser. Mel glanced around the patio.

"Get busy," she said.

"I could use a few more specifics."

"We haven't put anyone on the religion section yet. Go unpack religion. That'll be fun for you."

"First time in a while I've got religion."

"Nobody buys them," she said,"So neatness doesn't count. I don't care how they're arranged."

I was stacking up a bunch of Tomato Bisque For Your Mental State books when Barb came out. Looking around for a moment, she found me. "Lou? Your wife called. She said to call back."

"I'll use my cell. Thanks."

Then it took me a few minutes to find my cell phone in my backpack---I rarely ever use it---And forty-five seconds to turn it on. I'd timed it once. I called home as I walked out into the backyard of the library.

"Yeah? Got your message."

"Paul's running a fever."

I felt a sudden panic---A fever. Christ. After a year and a half of COVID...."How high?"

"A hundred point five. I want to give him some Tylenol and call the doctor to see if he needs a COVID test."

"Okay. That sounds like a good plan. Call me on my cell and let me know."

I hung up and slipped the cell in my pocket. Then I collapsed, crouching against the wall of the library. Crying. Wrapping my arms around myself. 

Paul. 

My son.

"I called off work today," I said. "I won't be going in. Gonna spend all day at home with you."

Sitting at the kitchen table, working on his math, Paul nodded. "Good."

"Maybe later we'll give Grandpa a call. You did really good with the test today, buddy. I was proud of how well you did with that."

"Daddy? I'm scared."

"What are you scared of, buddy?"

Paul started to cry.

"I'm scared I have COVID."

"Hey. Hey. Come here." I hugged him. "It's gonna be okay, buddy. You're gonna be allright. Your mom and me will protect you. We're gonna take care of you, don't worry."

I held my son.

"We'll get through this, little man. We'll get through it."

"Dinner." I set the plates on the counter and removed the sausages from the oven. Michelle put some food on a plate and sat down.

"Not too hungry?" she asked me.

"Forcing myself to eat," I admitted. "Paul's sick. COVID numbers are rising. I've spent my entire life learing how to survive and deal with emergencies.....But I never envisioned anything like this."

Her cell phone made a sound. She glanced at it. Today I'd been kind of glad I barely use mine----It had negated the urge to check it every fifteen seconds or so. Michelle picked her phone up and checked the message.

"It's negative," she said. "Paul doesn't have COVID."

I breathed. Suddenly, once again, I could breathe.

"You want to tell him?" she asked.

I nodded. We walked into the living room, where we found Paul and Rosie, curled up together and asleep on the couch.

I looked down at my son.

"Let's let him sleep for a while."

I walked through the book sale, looking things over. It was safe for me to come back. I rearranged a couple of science fiction books, grouping authors together. I was wearing my kraken shirt.

My cell phone rang. To some extent, that was a little surprising. I was still carrying it in my pocket, in case Paul needed anything.

It wasn't Paul. It was SaraLee. "Hey, pal."

"Hey, buddy. I wanted to talk to you....I need to cancel the investigation tomorrow. Family stuff."

"Oh. Okay," I said. "That's allright. I'll tell the team."

"You sure it's okay? I feel kind of bad...."

"Can't help these scheduling things. I'll stay home and play with the kid," I said. "Family stuff."

I spotted a thick book with a blue cover, and picked it up. The Complete Works Of Edgar Allan Poe.

I grinned. "Hey, Zach, I'll take this one."

The next night, when I walked into a haunted house, it was my own. 

First Rosie ran to greet me, and then Paul. I gave the kid a hug. "Hey, little man. My ghost hunt for tomorrow was cancelled, so I get to spend time with you. I'd rather do that anyway."

"Yay!"

"We can get Chinese food and eat in the park. Maybe you and me will go looking for ghosts, sound good?"

"Yeah! Did you bring me any books, Daddy?"

"I did. Here's one for kids about ghosts." I handed it to him, and he took it and left the kitchen. I turned to Tif, sitting at the table. 

"He doing okay today?" I asked.

"He's getting his energy back. He seems fine," said Tif. "How are you doing?"

I sat down. "I'm still kinda recovering. Scared to death. I am furious at the selfish assholes who put us in this position."

"Yeah, me too," said Tif. "I'm so sick of this."

"I could kill. At this point, we shouldn't have to deal with this. It's being dragged out by the stupid bastards who won't get the vaccine."

"I need something to take my mind off it," said Tif.

"Well. I have a book about Edgar Allan Poe."

"Cool. When are you reading it? I might want to borrow it for October, when I read all sorts of spooky stuff."

"You can have it then, sure. In the meantime, I got something for you to work on. Sometime this week, come on up early. You and me are gonna light up one of my expensive cigars and do some writing."

"What kind of writing?"

"I got some stationery with roses on it. We're gonna write down a Poe quote and a mysterious message, and mail it to the Eutaw House. We'll do this once a year, and create a new mystery. You're gonna be the new Poe Toaster."

Tif grinned. "I like it. I'm in."

"We'll let someone else figure it out. We're gonna take this haunted place, and make it into a new local mystery."

The Prius pulled into the Citgo station just before highway 322, and we got out. I looked across the street at the Eutaw House, still standing in Centre County.

"That's the place," I said. "That's where Poe was said to have stayed. The place he may still be haunting."

"Is it still a hotel?" Michelle asked.

"It doesn't seem to be," I said. "The sign says it's PennDOT headquarters now, which is scarier than a haunted hotel." I turned to Paul. "You want the thermometer or the K2 meter?"

"The thermometer."

I handed it to him. We held hands as we walked across the street. I said,"Get a baseline reading along the building. Stay on the side, watch for traffic."

"Sixty-two degrees," he reported.

I held up the K2 meter, which went straight to red. I said,"Check it out, Paul. This is topping out immediately. No wires, nothing that should be setting it off."
"It's haunted?" asked Paul.

"Could be," I said.

"I want to try that."

I traded the K2 meter for the thermometer, and then I snapped a couple of photos. This was going to make a great article. I walked along the side of the road, checking out the haunted hotel with my little boy.

I finished my Chinese food, sitting in Riverview Park. Nearby, Paul was running around on the playground with some other kids. I watched for a while.

He was looking pretty good. He'd gotten his energy back, and was up and around. With each passing day, I was feeling better about his health.

I dug into my backpack, pulling out my K2 meter and my laser thermometer. I slipped them into my pockets, and then pulled on my jacket with all the buttons and badges. I walked to where Paul was playing on the climbing stuff.

"Hey, kiddo. There used to be a haunted hotel right over there."

"Oh, yeah, I remember."

"It was torn down decades ago. They say a lumberman got murdered on the stairs, and there was always a blood spot there. I'm going to go check it out. If you need me, I'll be right over there, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy."

I watched him play for a moment, then turned and walked across the park. My son was okay. I was doing better than I'd been. I was still afraid and angry. I was just going to have to find ways around that.

I pulled out the K2 meter and hit the button. It lit up as I walked, sweeping it side to side.

With the leaves falling around me, I walked through the park.

From childhood's hour, I have not been

As others were---I have not seen

As others saw----I could not bring 

My passions from a common spring.

Cryptid Summer: Angels Among Us

"Excuse me," the woman said, standing by my desk. "I was wondering if you have a moment."
You ever meet one of those people where you see them, and immediately think,"Oh, shit"?

She'd come to me a few years ago to bitch me out for an article I'd written. I'd found an obit of a man who'd claimed to have created a very popular product, except he hadn't---The patent documentation from the company proved he'd been eleven when the product was invented. I'd written an article about it, and this woman had turned out to be his granddaughter. She'd stopped by to  ream me for about an hour.

"What can I do for you?" I asked coolly.

"Well, I wanted to talk with you," she said. "You'll be getting some old documents from my family."

"Um....Me personally, or...."

"Well, the library. But I know that you seem to be in charge of the history here, so I wanted to let you know. An old house in my family is being sold, and there's a lot of old papers.  I wanted them to come here, and I just wanted you to promise me that you'll check with me before writing about my family."

Well, that was definitely not going to happen. As diplomatically as I could, I said,"I'm unlikely to be writing about your family, ma'am."

"Well, you might change your mind. There's some fascinating stuff. And I just wanted you to promise that you'll check with me before you do it."

"As I said....I'm unlikely to be writing about your family."

"If you change your mind, I want you to check with me."

"I doubt I'll be changing my mind."

"Just in case. Do you have my contact information?"

"I won't be needing it."

I could see her considering who else she might complain to. "Is Diane still the director here?"

"No, she retired three years ago."

"I see. Do you still write for John?"

"I still write for the Record, but he sold the paper."

"Mmm."

She stared at me for another moment, and then turned and left. I turned back to my desk and went back to work. 

My phone blipped, that little sound it makes when the call's for me. I picked it up. "Lou."

"Hey, Lou. It's Ian." My friend Ian, a park ranger with DCNR. "I know it's a little late in the year to ask, but would you be willing to do a program for me?"

"I'm always willing, Ian, you know that. What do you have in mind?"

"Any stories you can come up with. You always do some good ones. Talk about true stories from the area."

"I can handle that. You want me at Little Pine or Kettle Creek this year?"

"Actually," he said,"This year I want you at Hyner Run."

I was working the desk when Gracie came in. "Hey, boss!" she said. "How was your trip?"

I'd been calling our director "Boss" for three years, and I'd referred to Theresa that way in the past. It felt considerably different being on the receiving end. "It was good," I said. "I looked for some ghosts, and checked around for the water monster. How have you been?"

"Pretty good," she said.

"Is that a Fresno Nightcrawler button on your vest? Proud of you."

She smiled. "Got anything for me to do today?"

"I do," I said. "I'm gonna sic you on the microfilm."

"Yes!" She did a little fist-pump.

"Oh, you've been waiting for that?"
"I really, really want to try it."

"You're familiar enough with the system by now. I have a program to give up at Hyner Run State Park in two weeks. I need you to find me some material. Look up Chapman Township, Hyner, North Bend, and see if you can find anything good."

"Okay," she said. "Should I look up Youngwomanstown, too?"
"Good idea. Excellent thinking. We'll be camping out up there, so I figure I'll look into some stuff. The Giwoggle is up there, Clinton County's official cryptid, and the Swamp Angel, the ghost of a woman who died in the swamps. A century ago, they believed that if you went to the swamp and asked the Swamp Angel for help, she'd come and help you with your problem."

"That's pretty cool. We have some good legends here, don't we?"

"We do," I agreed.

Gracie was hard at work when the phone rang. It was Tif.

"Dad, you may want to come home and check on Duke. He's not breathing well, and he can't stand up."

"I'm on my way," I said.

I hung up the phone and went to the microfilm.

"Gracie, I gotta run," I said. "My dog isn't doing well."

"Go," she said. "I got this."

I biked home to find Duke lying on his dog bed, unable to stand. I knelt down beside him.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," said Tif. "I'm sorry I had to call you."

"You did the right thing," I said.

"I thought you should be here."

I held Duke.

"You're a good boy, Duke. You are so much loved." I whispered to him as I hugged him. "I love you, buddy. You saved my son's life. I love you, so, so much."

I got to the coffee shop at about the same time as my last two editors. LaKeshia, who'd recruited me for the Pennsylvania Wilds in the first place, and Hannah, who was currently pretty good at putting up with all my crap. Hannah had sent me a rare e-mail that morning, inviting me to get coffee with them while she was in town.

Hannah gave me a hug. "It's nice to meet you in person finally," she said.

"Nice to meet you, too," I told her.

"I'm trying to get better about the e-mails," she told me.

"I have no complaints," I assured her.

We got our drinks and sat down at the table. Hannah said,"So how are you doing?"

"As well as I can. Our old dog Duke died on Monday."
"I saw on Facebook. I'm so sorry."

"It kind if creeps up on me in unexpected places, you know? I'll go get the leash to take him out, and then remember. Otherwise, doing okay. Got a talk to give in Hyner Run, so I'll be double-dipping and doing an article for you about the trip."

"That sounds great," said Hannah. "I love those little family articles. Paul is so cute."

"He is aware of that."

"I love that blue thing he always wears on his head."
"He pretends that's his hair. It started out with him trying to look like his favorite cartoon character, and then Covid hit, and I think it's now a security sort of thing."

"Aww."

"I thought of you recently," said LaKeshia. "Well, not immediately. But afterward. I saw a cryptid."

"Tell me about it."

"I was driving out on the Farrandsville Road," she said. "It ran across the road in front of me. It was weird, a small brown thing---Not a deer, but looked a little like a deer---And its legs didn't bend. It's hard to describe, but strange-looking."

"We can file this one under Not-Deer," I said. "A creature that you think is a deer at first, but then you realize it's not. I just learned about them from one of the newsletters I get. I recently got another sighting of one. I'll look into it."

"Look, the creek is up," my wife said as we drove into the park.

"There's been a few flash flood warnings lately," I commented, getting out of the car. Hyner Run was up and running strong, right beside the campsite.

"The sound is nice," said Michelle. "Maybe it'll help me sleep tonight."

"I'll get the tent set up," I said. "Then I'm going to check in at the main office, and take a walk."

"We'll be up at the pool."

I got the tent set up. We've had the same tent since before we were married, an eighteen-dollar Ozark Trail piece of work. I'm always astounded at how much use we've gotten out of it; we wound up paying less than a dollar a year for this thing. One day, it'll fall apart, and I'll genuinely miss it.

I walked up to the office to check in. There was a woman working the desk.

"Hi," I said. "I'm the guest speaker for tonight. I just wanted to check in, mention I'm here."

"Oh, yes, thanks for coming," she said. "I'm a big fan. I read all of your columns."

"Well, that's nice to hear. Thank you."

"I'm looking forward to hearing you tonight. Is that what you always wear for these things? Kind of so people know who you are?"

I looked at myself. I was wearing black jeans and my black ghost t-shirt. "Pretty much, yeah. It's the uniform."

"Well, I'm really looking forward to this. Thank you again for coming."

'Thanks for having me."

I walked around the park for a while, getting a sense of the place, and then back to the camp. I lit a cigar as I tried to get a fire started. It was an uphill battle; my firestarting skills seemed to have atrophied in recent years. It was about an hour before Michelle and Paul came back.

"I'm hungry," said Paul.

"Well, that works," I said. "I think I have this fire started just enough to cook a couple of hot dogs, if you like. Or we have cold baloney sandwiches."

Paul thought it over. "Can I have a baloney sandwich while we cook the hot dogs?"

"Yeah, you can do that."

I got out some of the cooking equipment and retrieved two of the extendable skewers. "This stuff is older than I am. My dad used to use it, and he gave ti to me. One day, when my camping days are done, I'll give it to you."

"I don't like nature as much as you. I mostly come because you like it."

"Is that so?"

"Daddy?" Paul said softly. "I feel like nobody likes me."
"What? People like you. You're a good little guy."
"I feel like I have no friends."
We'd been going through COVID for a year and a half now. Paul hadn't been in school, and had mostly been playing with the little girl next door, who was a grade-A pain in the ass. Like everyone else, his mental health had taken a hit.

"You're a good kid, Pipper, and people like you a lot. Right now, it's still too dangerous to send you back to school, but as soon as we can get you vaccinated, we'll get you back in."
He thought this through for a minute.

"Do black lives matter?" he asked me.

"Yes."

"Do I matter?"

"God, yes, you matter," I said. "You matter more to me than anyone."

"Thanks for coming, folks," I said, standing in front of the small audience. "I hope you enjoyed the talk. Check out my column."

I greeted Chris and his wife, who'd shown up for the program, and talked to Ian for a minute. Afterward, I walked back to the campsite. Michelle and Paul were waiting there. Paul said,"I don't want to complain, but I'm not having fun. I want to go home."
I shrugged. "Gonna be honest, I'm not as into this as I thought I'd be, either. If you two want to pack up, I won't be upset about it."

"Let's go home," said Michelle.

"We'll roast a few marshmallows, put out the fire, and get on the road," I said. "Honestly....Last year when we went to Little Pine, it made me feel better about stuff. Now....Now I'm just depressed."

"I miss Rosie," commented Paul.

"I'm going to take a little walk," I said. "Soon as I come back, we'll pack the car."

"Are you okay?" Michelle asked.

I shook my head.

"Nobody is."

I was partway down the path when Paul caught up to me. "I want to come, too, Daddy," he said.

"Okay," I said. "Why don't we go down to the bridge, and look for the Swamp Angel a bit?"

"What's the Swamp Angel?"

"It's the ghost of a woman in the swamp, from an old legend. They say if you need help, and you ask, she'll come and help you. Christ, half the country needs help right about now."

We walked down the path toward the bridge. I said,"Look at the mist coming from the creek."

"That's campfire smoke."

"Well. Maybe."

"Dad, I feel lonely," Paul said. "I feel like everyone will always pick on me."

"That's not true," I said. "Mostly lately, you've been playing with the kid next door, and she's not a very good friend. Hopefully soon, we'll be able to get you vaccinated and send you back to school, and then you'll have plenty of kids to choose from." And because of the assholes refusing to get vaccinated, I now had a choice between my son's mental health and his physical health, which made me furious as hell.

We reached the bridge and turned down onto the grass by the creek. 

"The Swamp Angel lives here?"

"Well, around here somewhere. According to the story."

"I want to wish for new friends."

"I wonder if I can still skip a rock," I said.

I picked up a flat rock and tried to spin it across the water like I had when I was a kid. It plonked right in.

"Nope," I said. "I used to be better at that."

Paul picked up a rock and threw it in. "I can do it. Wait, that didn't work."

"You have to get a flat rock, and kind of spin it. You want to just drop rocks off the bridge?"

"Yeah!"

We found a couple of good-sized rocks, and I let him heave them off with a satisfying splash. He sat on the stone wall.

"Dad, you've been acting weird all day."

"Have I?"

"Yes."

I sat down next to him. 

"I haven't been doing so well myself, little man. You know how you've been feeling sad and lonely? I have, too. I still miss Duke. The Coronavirus has lasted too long, and hurt a lot of people. I'm feeling depressed, so I know how you feel."

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"You know what? You and I need to come up with more stuff to do together. Maybe I haven't been spending enough time with you lately. Might make us both feel better."

"Yeah. That would be good."

Maybe the Swamp Angel had managed to find a way to help, after all.

"Come on, buddy," I said. "Let's pack up and go home."

Cryptid Summer: Midnight Prius To Georgia

It wasn't my idea to go to Georgia to visit my in-laws. But it was kind of my fault.

Michelle's mother had refused to get vaccinated for COVID. My wife had been worried about her.

"Tell her we're not coming for a visit until she's vaccinated," I said. "We couldn't take that risk."

Michelle, in a phone call, had evidently told her mother just that. And a week later, we'd been sent a photo of her getting her first shot.

"Well, now we can visit," Michelle said happily.

"I didn't say we'd definitely go," I said. "I said we wouldn't visit unless she did...."

"I'm going to visit my mother in Georgia," Michelle said. "Now, are you coming, or not?"

Which is how I came to be sitting in the Prius halfway across Virginia. It was the first time I'd been outside Pennsylvania in nearly two years, thanks to COVID---The last time I could recall leaving the state, it had been an overnight trip to New Jersey in November of 2019 to look for the Jersey Devil. The last time I'd been in Georgia specifically was about six years ago, when we'd finalized Paul's adoption. We'd stopped for a visit on the way home. I try to avoid going to visit my in-laws more than, say, twice a decade.

I was wearing my shirt with an America map on it, with cryptids on each state. I figured I could use it for directions if I got lost. I'd packed one cryptid shirt for every state we'd be traveling through. I didn't want to think too deeply into what it meant that I actually own one cryptid shirt per each state.

But I had a couple of things planned. There was a haunted cemetery near Michelle's mom, and the Altamaha-Ha, a water monster from nearby. I'd learned about the Wog, a dog-like monster in the state. I planned on slipping off to investigate those, if I could.

Someday, I might travel and just do the planned itinerary.

But not in Georgia, for damn sure. And not today.

I rolled out of bed in a hotel in North Carolina, wearing my Lake Erie Monster pajamas. My wife was already up. 

"Should we call the kennel?" she asked.

I nodded. "I'm worried about Duke. He wasn't doing too good yesterday."

Duke and Rosie were in a kennel in Avis for the week. We'd gotten calls from them as we traveled yesterday, with seventeen-year-old Duke not feeling well. We dialed the kennel on her cell phone.

"Hi, this is Michelle," said my wife. "We called to check on Duke and Rosie."

"Oh, Duke is doing better," said the kennel lady. "The emergency vet put him on antibiotics, and he's up and around now. He ate some canned food. We had to mix the antibiotics with the canned food; he doesn't like to be given pills."

"No, he doesn't," I agreed. "But he does love canned food."

"We put him in his own cage, but he didn't like it. When we moved him in with Rosie, he felt better."

"How is Rosie?"

The lady laughed. "She's fine. She's a little sweetie."

Paul came out of the bathroom carrying the little hotel soaps and shampoos. "Do we get to keep these?"
"We do," I said. "You know what else they don't mind you keeping? This notepad and pen. You can write with them if you like."

And that was how I came to have notes delivered to me from the back of the Prius via paper airplane all the way to Georgia.

I walked across the sandy lawn, careful to avoid the fire ants. The South. Jesus, the South drives me up the wall. You'd think I'd enjoy a place more when the insects are all basically already cryptids.

I retrieved my laptop case and cryptid bag from the Prius, and went into the trailer.

"There's cactuses growing on the edge of the lawn," I said. "Cactuses. I don't think I've ever seen a cactus in the wild before."

"Oh, we got 'em growing all over the place," said my mother-in-law.

I turned to my wife. "There's a trailer across the road that looks like a serial killer stole it from another serial killer."

"Probably is," said Michelle. "Pizza for dinner? My sister's on her way over."

"Sure." I picked up my copy of Weird Georgia, which I'd brought along. I began paging through. I found a mention of Saint Simons Island, said to be haunted because of slaves that drowned themselves in the ocean. According to legend, you could hear the ghostly chains rattling.

"You want to go to Saint Simons Island tomorrow?" Michelle asked. "My friend Mary Jane is staying near there."

"Sure," I said. "I'm up for that."

Didn't even have to be sneaky about that one.

I was in the back of the vehicle, Michelle's old school friend Mary Jane driving. I shared the back with Paul and Mary Jane's granddaughter as we headed for Saint Simons Island. Paul and the granddaughter had hit it off right away, comparing toys and favorite games.

"The island is haunted," announced the granddaughter.

"Is it?" Mary Jane asked. "I never heard that."

"Me either," commented Michelle. She glanced back at me. "Lou? Did you know anything about this?"

"I've read about it," I said. Just last night, in fact. "Weird Georgia has a whole chapter on it. Slaves who died, haunting the island."

"Good! Finally!" said Paul. "Ghosts! Something me and Daddy can do together!"

I smiled. "You know, there's a haunted cemetery near Nana's place. Also, a water monster. We can go check that out, if you like."

"Yeah!" said Paul. 

I walked along the beach, Paul playing at the edge of the water. I was wearing my Altamaha-Ha T-shirt. I knelt down and picked up a shell, turning it over. Tif had wanted us to bring her home some shells. I saw the live crab inside, and set it down. I picked up another one. There was a crab in that one, too.

I walked along, found a couple of clamshells that seemed to be crab-free, and dropped them in the side pocket on my pack. I got out my K2 meter and took a reading---Not much of a flicker. There wasn't much point in trying the laser thermometer, not with the ocean on my side and the breeze. What I really needed was a few minutes with the digital recorder, but that wasn't going to happen on this trip.

I picked up another shell. Nope, crab.

A little later, we walked up to the top of the lighthouse. A hundred and twenty-nine steps to get there. I stood on the edge and looked far out, over the ocean.

I'm at the edge of America. Out where I'm looking, it's not my country anymore. This is the edge of my land. That's always fascinated me.

"Look out there, Paul," I said.

"Cool," said Paul.

"I can't believe I didn't want to come to this place," said Paul in the back of the Prius. He was polishing off his corn dog and starting on his grape slush. With COVID, Sonic was the perfect place to sit and eat in the car.

"Knew you'd like this," I said. "You want to stop at the river and get water samples on the way home?"

"Sure," said Paul.

I turned to my wife. "You can get us to the Altamaha?"

"If I remember the way."

"Last time, it was Jaycees Landing Road...."

"That's right, I remember now. Wasn't that the place where the old people on the porch swing told you that you were going to be eaten by an alligator?"

"Yeah, that's the place."

"I wonder if they're still there."

"They may still be on that same porch swing, for all I know."

We pulled down the ramp to the river. The old people weren't there, but there was a redneck in the water. He was riding a four-wheeler into the water, with a Confederate flag on the back. Jesus christ. The South. There was a sign that said "No Swimming," and technically, he was following that particular rule---Swimming usually doesn't involve four-wheelers.

He rode away as I got out of the car. "I'm coming with you," said Paul.

"Hoped you might," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed my crypto bag from the back of the car, and slung it over my shoulder---Green bag with a Bigfoot patch on it. We walked down to the water, and I handed him a sample container.

"Go ahead, we'll both get a sample." I knelt down and scooped up some water. I was still wearing my Altamaha-Ha shirt. Maybe the monster would notice.

"I got it half full," said Paul.

"That's plenty for our purposes." I took a few photos.

Michelle was looking around. "Wasn't this where the old people were? I don't even see the cabin. Just that set of restrooms."

"My guess is a tornado took out the cabin, and they replaced them with the restrooms. Gonna rain. Lets; get back to the trailer."

I set the water samples on the counter and got out my litmus paper. "You want to show Nana how this works?"

"You take the color-changing paper," said Paul. His grandmother leaned over to watch. I was reasonably sure that Paul had more experience with litmus paper than Michelle's mom. "You dip it in the water and it changes color. See?" He held up the paper, which had turned a light green.

"Match it with the chart," I said.

The litmus paper came with a small chart that had all the colors, acids to bases. Paul lined the paper up. "That one. Seven."

"That's right. And what does that mean?"

"Things can live in the water," he said.

"That's right. Maybe a water monster."

For the first time in four days, I walked into a library. But this one was on an island. And a thousand miles away from Lock Haven. And probably not quite as haunted.

"Hello," said the staffer at the desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, just browsing," I said. "I work in a library up in Pennsylvania, and I kind of wanted to compare."

"Welcome!" he said. "My name's Jim. We use Overdrive for our digital services."

"Yeah, us too. Still getting used to the system changes."

He nodded. "We got a lot of patrons into it last year, when we were closed for four months because of COVID."

"Yeah, us too. Did some virtual tours to keep people busy."

"That's a good idea. What are you doing on Saint Simons Island?"

"My wife is from Georgia. We're visiting family."

Paul stuck his head in the door. "Dad! Come on!"

I smiled. "My son. Nice talking to you."

I walked out to the park area, holding the K2 meter. As I approached the picnic tables, it lit up, going red for a moment. It continued to flicker, not a steady reading, but jumping back and forth to red, as high as I've ever seen a reading. I held it up to Paul.

"Check it out, kid."

Paul looked at the meter. "That means there's electricity."

"Or ghosts."

"This place has electric lights," Michelle pointed out.

I lowered the K2 to the ground, and it went dead. "I'm only getting a reading about five feet off the ground. If there are wires, they'd be buried; I'd get more readings at ground level. Something's going on here."

"We're going to take Paul swimming," she said. "You able to kill a little time?"

"Sure. I'll explore a little."

Michelle took her sister and her mom into the pool area with Paul. I shrugged my backpack on and walked around the island. The visitors' center, the touristy downtown stretch along Mallery Street. It always amazes me, travel. All you have to do is sit in a vehicle for some predetermined length of tie, and you can just be someplace. Somewhere everything is different.

I bought a new T-shirt at one of the stores and then walked down to the pier. With my camera, I walked out to the end and looked at the ocean. Jesus, I love the ocean. I mean, to see it I always have to be in godawful places like the deep South or New Jersey, but I love the ocean.

I walked to a local bar and had a beer, my first in a while. It was really nice just to sit in a bar again. I was to the point I reach in every trip, when I'm ready to go home. I missed Tif and Biz. I missed Rosie and Duke. I missed Gracie, and the library, and pretty much all of Lock Haven.

So I did what I always do when I'm down. I went out and researched the mysterious.

 I walked back down to the park area and took a few more EMF readings, getting those high red flickers again.

"Hi, Daddy!" Paul was approaching down the path, followed by Michelle, Jill, and their mom. I set my pack on the picnic table.

"You have fun swimming, little man?" I asked.

"Yeah! There was a slide!"

Jill indicated the large poles holding up some of the hanging tree branches. "Know why those are there?"

"I assumed to support the branches after they got to a certain size."

"Yeah, one of them fell and killed a picnicker a few years ago."

"That's not where I expected this to go," I said.

"These trees are really, really old," she said.

I considered it. "About how old are they?"

"I don't know exactly, but really old. Several hundred years old."

"Ah,: I said. "That explains a lot." I turned to Paul. "That's why I might get a reading around the trees. The ghosts are familiar with them---The trees are the only thing that have been here as long as they have."

Friday morning, on an overcast day, we packed everything back into the Prius and got in. I said,"Ready to go, little man? We got some neat stuff to see on the way."

"Yeah!" said Paul. "I miss Rosie."
"Me, too. Also, there's a water monster in North Carolina---He's in Lake Norman, so they call him Norm. We'll take a look as we go past."

"Can we stop at Sonic?" Paul asked.

I nodded.

"Let's get on the road."