Ghosts: Conclusion
At ten in the morning, I was out of the library porch outside my office, scrubbing the Theodore Roosevelt portrait with a piece of Italian bread. I'd picked it up at the grocery store on the way in, and it looked really good. Almost a shame to use it this way, but that was what I'd got it for.
Okay, Mister President. I have a plan. You're on a bread-and-water diet.
When I used up a piece, getting it too dirty to continue, I flung it off the edge of the porch, I was sort of hoping the local wildlife would take care of my mess for me.
The painting was getting there. I uncovered a signature in the upper right corner---It had been covered by all the filth, but I could see the date of 1908, making this portrait over a hundred years old.
I took the portrait in when I was done, and stashed it in the closet of the PA Room. Then I got out the 1869 map of Jersey Shore that I'd also acquired, and began working on cleaning that.
Sara, our new volunteer, came over to watch me work. Sara is a teenager, the daughter of someone I'd used to work with---Seems I was flooded with those, these days. She'd been coming in to help us do inventory.
"What are you doing now?" she asked.
I very carefully lifted the map from the frame, laying it out on the desk. "Gonna clean this up, remove some of the bad tape they used on it," I explained. "I'll never get it looking perfect, but it may come out better than now." Wearing white gloves, I took a cleaning pad and patted it against my palm. "First I brush off all the obvious dirt and crap. Then I'm going to use this---It's a cleaning pad. It's filled with a kind of powder that will safely absorb the dirt and make this a little brighter." I began rubbing the pad on the map, very, very gently.
"I always learn something from you," Sara said. "I can't wait to see this on display."
"Should be a few days. This kind of thing can take a while."
Sara smiled. "I love coming here. I always feel so safe and peaceful, and I always learn something from you."
Diane walked in later. "How's the restoration going?"
"We're going to have to find someplace to display these," I said. I held up the Theodore Roosevelt painting.
"Wow," she said.
It was beautiful, clean and bright. I said,"There's still a little damage in a couple of places...."
"But it looks so much better than when you brought it in," she said. "Bread?"
"Bread."
"Now you can add archivist to your resume."
"You keep telling me to add stuff to my resume. You trying to get rid of me?"
"No, but that's what happened to a previous Adult Services Coordinator. He got so good at things, he left us for a museum in New York."
"Fortunately, I have zero amibition. Got the haunted walking tour tonight."
"We've been fielding calls about that all week. Think it'll go well?"
"Oh, yeah, A lot of interest. Last year, I made over three hundred dollars. I'm hoping to beat that, this year."
As seven PM closed in, I was under the patio in my LHPS uniform. Millie was there to help out, taking the money. And Olivia had come from Teen Paranormal, and brought a friend. Ashlin was there, and Skylar, and little Alyssa.
The crowds came in. Everyone paid the three dollars for the tour. And at seven, I stepped up on a bench and began.
"Thank you all for braving the rain to come out tonight," I said. "And thanks for the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers, the city's most reputable ghost-hunting team, for sponsoring the event," Behind me, a squirrel ran past, carrying a chunk of dirty bread. "I'd like to begin by telling you about this building---The Ross Library, home to Annie Halenbake Ross and Mary Elizabeth Crocker, who are probably still haunting the place."
We walked next door, to the John Brown House, and I talked about his death in 1938, falling from his stairs and cracking his skull. Over to the railroad tracks, where I told the story of the Headless Trackwalker carrying his lantern. "....And the boy saw the lantern light approaching....." I'd stationed Millie and Livy along the tracks with a lantern of their own, and buzzed them on the comlink at the right moment. Millie lit it up, and everyone saw the lantern coming, just like in the story.
On the other end of the parking lot, I told the story of Great Island Cemetery, and the bodies that had been moved. We walked down to Triangle Park, I stopped there and pointed out the home of Eric Carlson, who had known the captain of the Titanic, and the post office, which had once been the home of the first man to have an autopsy in Lock Haven. As we walked down the alley, I pulled Livy aside quietly.
"KIddo. Find your grandmother and my wife. Her friend Kim is here, and she's really scared of ghosts. Have your grandmother check her with the EMFs---It'll really freak her out."
Livy grinned. "You got it."
We stopped in the parking lot of the Fallon Hotel, by the Susquehanna River.
"....But the Susquehanna Seal monster is not the official monster of Clinton County. The honor goes to the Giwoggle, a sort of werewolf created by a witch. That's the county's official monster....Show of hands. Who would buy a Giwoggle t-shirt?"
We walked down Water Street to the next stop. Julie, the head of the tourism agency, was beside me. I grinned at her.
"Giwoggle t-shirts, Julie. Think about it."
We stopped along Water Street.
"....So it's possible that you're standing where General Mad Anthony Wayne walks across the state, with bits of his bones right underneath your feet."
And back to the library.
"And I have one more story to tell you tonight. This one is special to me....Because this one is mine."
Though, in a way, they're all mine. Every ghost story in Lock Haven, every house....I've made them work for me. I've promoted them, and made them all my own.
"Ida Yost, seventeen years old, committed suicide in my home in 1905. She was abused by her father, and drank an ounce of carbolic acid. But I think Ida has a happy ending....The community cares about her now, more than they did when she was alive. She seems to like us there, our dogs, my baby son. I think after all these years....Ida is content."
I sat at my desk alone. My office. Basically, the PA Room was my office....All of our history is my territory.
It was after the tour. Everyone else had gone home. And I was counting out the money for Diane, alone in the library.
310....315....321. I did it. I beat last year's record.
In the other room, I heard a noise. A single footstep.
I was alone in the building.
I smiled.
This is my place. I'm happy here. And all my ghosts are friendly ones.
Okay, Mister President. I have a plan. You're on a bread-and-water diet.
When I used up a piece, getting it too dirty to continue, I flung it off the edge of the porch, I was sort of hoping the local wildlife would take care of my mess for me.
The painting was getting there. I uncovered a signature in the upper right corner---It had been covered by all the filth, but I could see the date of 1908, making this portrait over a hundred years old.
I took the portrait in when I was done, and stashed it in the closet of the PA Room. Then I got out the 1869 map of Jersey Shore that I'd also acquired, and began working on cleaning that.
Sara, our new volunteer, came over to watch me work. Sara is a teenager, the daughter of someone I'd used to work with---Seems I was flooded with those, these days. She'd been coming in to help us do inventory.
"What are you doing now?" she asked.
I very carefully lifted the map from the frame, laying it out on the desk. "Gonna clean this up, remove some of the bad tape they used on it," I explained. "I'll never get it looking perfect, but it may come out better than now." Wearing white gloves, I took a cleaning pad and patted it against my palm. "First I brush off all the obvious dirt and crap. Then I'm going to use this---It's a cleaning pad. It's filled with a kind of powder that will safely absorb the dirt and make this a little brighter." I began rubbing the pad on the map, very, very gently.
"I always learn something from you," Sara said. "I can't wait to see this on display."
"Should be a few days. This kind of thing can take a while."
Sara smiled. "I love coming here. I always feel so safe and peaceful, and I always learn something from you."
Diane walked in later. "How's the restoration going?"
"We're going to have to find someplace to display these," I said. I held up the Theodore Roosevelt painting.
"Wow," she said.
It was beautiful, clean and bright. I said,"There's still a little damage in a couple of places...."
"But it looks so much better than when you brought it in," she said. "Bread?"
"Bread."
"Now you can add archivist to your resume."
"You keep telling me to add stuff to my resume. You trying to get rid of me?"
"No, but that's what happened to a previous Adult Services Coordinator. He got so good at things, he left us for a museum in New York."
"Fortunately, I have zero amibition. Got the haunted walking tour tonight."
"We've been fielding calls about that all week. Think it'll go well?"
"Oh, yeah, A lot of interest. Last year, I made over three hundred dollars. I'm hoping to beat that, this year."
As seven PM closed in, I was under the patio in my LHPS uniform. Millie was there to help out, taking the money. And Olivia had come from Teen Paranormal, and brought a friend. Ashlin was there, and Skylar, and little Alyssa.
The crowds came in. Everyone paid the three dollars for the tour. And at seven, I stepped up on a bench and began.
"Thank you all for braving the rain to come out tonight," I said. "And thanks for the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers, the city's most reputable ghost-hunting team, for sponsoring the event," Behind me, a squirrel ran past, carrying a chunk of dirty bread. "I'd like to begin by telling you about this building---The Ross Library, home to Annie Halenbake Ross and Mary Elizabeth Crocker, who are probably still haunting the place."
We walked next door, to the John Brown House, and I talked about his death in 1938, falling from his stairs and cracking his skull. Over to the railroad tracks, where I told the story of the Headless Trackwalker carrying his lantern. "....And the boy saw the lantern light approaching....." I'd stationed Millie and Livy along the tracks with a lantern of their own, and buzzed them on the comlink at the right moment. Millie lit it up, and everyone saw the lantern coming, just like in the story.
On the other end of the parking lot, I told the story of Great Island Cemetery, and the bodies that had been moved. We walked down to Triangle Park, I stopped there and pointed out the home of Eric Carlson, who had known the captain of the Titanic, and the post office, which had once been the home of the first man to have an autopsy in Lock Haven. As we walked down the alley, I pulled Livy aside quietly.
"KIddo. Find your grandmother and my wife. Her friend Kim is here, and she's really scared of ghosts. Have your grandmother check her with the EMFs---It'll really freak her out."
Livy grinned. "You got it."
We stopped in the parking lot of the Fallon Hotel, by the Susquehanna River.
"....But the Susquehanna Seal monster is not the official monster of Clinton County. The honor goes to the Giwoggle, a sort of werewolf created by a witch. That's the county's official monster....Show of hands. Who would buy a Giwoggle t-shirt?"
We walked down Water Street to the next stop. Julie, the head of the tourism agency, was beside me. I grinned at her.
"Giwoggle t-shirts, Julie. Think about it."
We stopped along Water Street.
"....So it's possible that you're standing where General Mad Anthony Wayne walks across the state, with bits of his bones right underneath your feet."
And back to the library.
"And I have one more story to tell you tonight. This one is special to me....Because this one is mine."
Though, in a way, they're all mine. Every ghost story in Lock Haven, every house....I've made them work for me. I've promoted them, and made them all my own.
"Ida Yost, seventeen years old, committed suicide in my home in 1905. She was abused by her father, and drank an ounce of carbolic acid. But I think Ida has a happy ending....The community cares about her now, more than they did when she was alive. She seems to like us there, our dogs, my baby son. I think after all these years....Ida is content."
I sat at my desk alone. My office. Basically, the PA Room was my office....All of our history is my territory.
It was after the tour. Everyone else had gone home. And I was counting out the money for Diane, alone in the library.
310....315....321. I did it. I beat last year's record.
In the other room, I heard a noise. A single footstep.
I was alone in the building.
I smiled.
This is my place. I'm happy here. And all my ghosts are friendly ones.