by Rick Kueber
“Let’s move on.” I said, grabbing up the equipment and feeling the urgency to leave this room. The hour or so that remained of the evening were far quieter, and the magnitude of the activity had seemed to wane, as if the passing of the 3am hour sent the spirits into a peaceful slumber, or had at least distanced them from our physical realm.
The night ended with an easy feeling of comfort, and nearly everyone involved truly felt we had taken great strides in bringing rest to the lost souls of the Owl's Nest. As we packed our cases of equipment out to our cars, and the lights were all turned out/doors locked, there was a feeling of mixed emotions shared among us all. First, we felt that we had moved forward, in a very positive way, toward our goal, and second, we knew the most important achievements lay ahead of us. It was late... or I guess early, and my mind was already planning and strategizing for the next 'public event'.
Chapter 18 A TIME to HEAL
It was a Wednesday evening in early August and the battery on my phone was growing dangerously low. I had called everyone on my team, everyone I knew from the Owl's, Rick Hayes, and many of the friends, old and new, who had attended our public investigation. The time had passed so quickly and I now found myself facing a rapidly approaching autumn. How much time did we have, before it was 'too late', I didn't know. The thought of making so much progress and there being an invisible deadline that could pass at any time worried my team and I. It was time for a Barnes & Noble/ Starbucks meeting.
I sat in the farthest corner table, sipping my vente, French vanilla cappuccino. Katie, Jenn and Theo wandered in, one by one, only minutes apart. My concern over the ominous and elusive deadline was overtaking my every waking moment. When would it be too late, and what happened when it became too late? All I could think of was all of the poor souls who had made the Owl's Nest their home in the afterlife, and if it suddenly became too late to help the children of the Owls, would it be too late for the other souls as well?
“It's set.” I said in a low monotone voice, after drawing a deep breath. “The Owls have decided to let us host another public event... a week and a half from today.”
“Wow... that's not much time to get the word out and prepare.” Theo realized.
“Nope, it isn't. Do you think we can get anyone to come on such short notice?” Katie questioned the team. “I've been on the phone all afternoon, since I found out, and I think we will have a decent turn out. Rick Hayes said he would come, and Barb said she could make a last minute addition to the Hoots newsletter, so between the two of them, I think we will draw enough people...but that's not what I'm concerned about, really.” I explained.
Jenn and Katie looked at each other and their concern and confusion soon changed to a different concern and an
understanding. Jenn spoke up first. “You aren't worried about having a good turn-out, because the real concern is helping the spirits, right?”
“The children...” Katie's voice was small and quiet, but held a heavy truth.
“If it's not already too late…” Theo added somberly. “Yes, that's my fear...that's what has me anxious, and keeps me awake at night.” I admitted, and it seemed evident that the rest of my companions shared in my endless worry.
“We have a lot to do in a short amount of time, huh?” Katie broke the silence after a few minutes of deep thought.
“Yep... do you think Robby is going to be able to help us out again? The extra hand was really helpful.” Jenn asked. “No, I already asked, but I did get an email from a guy who wants to possibly join the team named Jordan, so, I thought we would give him a shot. I talked to him on the phone and he seemed like a level headed, intelligent person.” I sprung the idea on them to see how they would react without any prior notice.
“I think that's a good idea... I mean, at least it's good to have a back-up, or part time investigator.” Theo said.
“Yeah, I agree.” Katie added while Jenn nodded in agreement. “He is meeting up with me this weekend, here for coffee, and you are all welcome to be here and we can make a decision...if we want to accept him into our team, or not.” I purposed, and so it was.
That Saturday afternoon, we all met up again and were joined by Jordan, who probably felt like he was a part of the 'inquisition'. We pummeled him with questions about himself, his reasons for wanting to join us, and how he would handle different scenarios that we had encountered, or that we might encounter. He handled himself well, and spoke with intelligence and a sense of professionalism. The team, my friends, and I didn't have to meet in private to discuss Jordan's interview. It was an unspoken agreement that we all felt.
“Alright my friend, it looks like you will get a shot to join us at our public 'ghost tour' and investigation next Saturday night at the Owl's.” I smiled. “Welcome to the team.” I shook his hand, as did everyone else... well, except for Jenn. Jenn had to give the young man a hug, because, that's just what Jenn does. No one got away without a hug from Jenn. It was like some sort of unwritten law, and we all loved that about her.
The days drug by, like the moments between the unexpected meals of a man, starving and homeless. Waiting and wondering if the day we yearned for would ever come, and if so would it come soon enough. The thought of missing our warned 'dead line' by mere days, or even minutes gnawed at our hearts, minds and our very souls. Saturday did finally arrive, and my greatest fear was that there would be no children, no small shadows of the once playful tots, and the mystery would remain forever. To me, that would be a haunting I could never separate myself from.
Jennifer had brought her teenage daughter, Grace, to help out with taking donations and attending the tables filled with equipment, t-shirts and other miscellaneous items of interest. The banners were hung, and the basement was decorated with our signs and our cases of paranormal investigating equipment. The only way we had been able to get our public event set was to agree to set up in the large bingo room, but we didn't mind. It wasn't as grand as the dance hall, but that wasn't important to us. All that mattered was time, which seemed ironic since I had always thought that once the veil to the other side, the afterlife, was crossed, time would make no difference whatsoever. This was not the case in our realm. The clock, high on the wall, mocked our anticipation, and seemed to slow with every tick, and taunted us louder and louder with each tock.
The room seemed to light up when Rick Hayes entered and gave us all a wave and a boisterous “Hey!” The mood lightened, and even the clock seemed to find its quiet place. As Rick approached the tables where we were preparing ourselves and our displays, we all dropped what we had been doing and gathered around him.
“Everything is going to be alright. I have an unmistakable feeling of peace... not a peace that is here, but a peace that is coming, soon.” His words were like a warm blanket wrapping around us on a cold an unrestful night.
“I feel it too.” Theo agreed. “You're right. It isn't here yet, but I think it will be...soon.” There was a mystical energy in the air that grew stronger with every participant who entered the downstairs room where we would be holding our 'seminar', before the ghost tours and public investigation. The room filled quickly, and even though the club remained open upstairs while we began, there was a quiet and easy feeling about the upcoming night. I introduced my team, Grace, and Rick Hayes to the crowd that had gathered, before turning the floor over to Barb to tell her tales of the history and haunting of the Owls. Onlookers, even those who had attended the last event, were captivated by the chilling stories of the past and the many mysterious encounters since the Owl's Nest took over the space in the 1920's.
When Barb had finished her regale, and answered what questions were asked, I returned to take my place in the front of everyone. With only a short talk about my team, what we do, and our experiences at the Owls, I reintroduced our guest for the evening Rick Hayes who both entranced and delighted the crowd before him. His dialog with the audience included his own history and encounters, as well as his gifts of the supernatural, but more so, he spent t
he majority of his time teaching. His lessons taught everyone to be more open minded, less critical, and to open their eyes and their hearts to living their own magical lives...living their lives supernaturally, and all they had to do was simply believe.
Rick decided to make the situation less formal. While my team and I prepared for our ghost tour and a special surprise to kick off the night, Rick mingled through the crowd, answering questions and giving a most informal gallery reading, of sorts. It was an amazing time for everyone involved and the tales were recanted numerous times, (and still are to this day). Christian spoke often of Rick connecting with his grandfather and his uncle who had passed, and how overpowering the emotions were when they came through in his reading, and the feeling of close family flooding over him like warm waves. Barb received a few validating statements to let her know that her dad was still watching out for her.
“Barb, I keep seeing an old desk... you know the kind with the drawers that go down one side, the left hand side.” Rick said to her, as he focused his thoughts.
Barb's eyes grew wide, as she recognized the description of her father's desk that she now owned, but, “Uh huh.” was all she could muster.
“Don't take this wrong, but I sense a man, maybe your father, keeps saying the big bottom draw needs to be cleaned out. Does that make any sense?” Rick asked politely.
“Yes.” Barb said as her eyes began to well up. “I have my dad's desk, and that bottom drawer has been crammed with 'junk' for a long time.” She glanced over to a smiling Del. “I was just saying I needed to empty it out because my dad was very orderly, and it would have driven him nuts.” Del nodded in agreement.
“I'm seeing one other thing, and don't laugh... but does a stick of butter mean anything to you?” Rick rubbed his chin, confused by this latest revelation.
“Ummmm... not that I can think of.” Barb seemed just as confused. “Sorry, that's all I am getting. Just keep that in the back of your mind and maybe it will come to you what it means.” Rick smiled and soon moved on through the crowd to speak with others who patiently waited their turns.
I entered the room and quickly gathered everyone's attention. “It is time to begin our 'Ghost Tours'. It looks like we have about thirty people here, so if we could split up into three groups of about ten, we can get started.” I announced, and everyone swiftly migrated to those they wanted to tour with.
Over half a dozen small groups were assembled and then those were combined until we had our groups. Because of the nature of the event, with Rick Hayes present, we decided to take one group at a time, and once the first group had finished in the basement, they were led to the main floor and the second group began to share our adventurous tales and the revelation of our evidence. The entire journey went very smoothly for all involved, and much like our first event there were a few skeptics, but mostly gasps of dismay at the voices of the departed that we had communicated with. There was one change on this tour, one small, yet significant, addition. The first stop on for each group was the pool room.
“I want to talk to the children that are here.” Jenn's voice replayed over the speakers followed by moments of static-y tension. “You can't find us!” The voice of Ash called back in eerie response. Our visitors shivered at the haunting voice of the child.
“That is quite an impressive piece of evidence.” One of the enthusiasts boasted. “Yes, it is.” I agreed. “But the last time it was played in this room, there was another voice caught, and my team and I believe it is a direct response.” A hush came over the crowd as I played the second clip.
There were various people chattering away in the background of the recording, speaking about orbs of light, and other questionable paranormal evidence and then, over the top of every voice in the room, came a chilling insight.
“I WANT HER!” A cruel voice informed everyone. It was the belief of my team that this was one of the malevolent shadows, a ghastly gangster, if you will, speaking of wanting Ashley, for her powers and her ability to come and go at-will from this timeless prison.
The room broke out in a hushed murmur of voices, and several times I was asked to replay the chilling voices. The more squeamish of our friends began looking around, realizing that these specters may be joining us again, just as they had in the past, but there was no activity, no cold spots, and no one was pushed, or had their hair pulled. It would seem they were saving up their energy for something bigger, something more impressive, or perhaps...we were too late. I tried not to dwell on that possibility, especially since Theo and Rick had both seemed to think it was going to be 'alright'.
The tours moved on and through the building, and by the end everyone who attended was convinced that the Owl's Nest was truly haunted. I had decided to allow everyone to mingle and enjoy some fellowship, because we were able to start our event before the club actually closed, in fact, it was just before 11:30pm when our tours ended. When midnight approached, we escorted everyone from the building briefly, and then let the 'ticket holders' reenter. In total, there were twenty one attending the public investigation, nearly half of which were comprised of my team, Rick Hayes, the Heerdinks, and a couple of assistants.
Before anyone realized what we had done, the rows of chairs had been rearranged into a circle, with an old Gothic, throne-style chair at the head. The DVR was turned on and began recording as Theo took a seat in the head chair, with Sterling by his side, notebook in hand.
“If I could have everyone's attention for a moment, we are about to go dark, and we have a special event to kick off our investigation. Theo is a psychic-medium, but also a trance-medium and he will be conducting a séance in a few minutes. If anyone is uncomfortable taking part, I will have one of our investigators, Katie, lead you upstairs to begin investigating now. Otherwise, please find a seat in the circle.” I motioned to where Katie waited by the stairway, and then to the circle of chairs that I stood in the midst of. There were no takers, and intrigue filled the room. Scuffling bodies of paranormal enthusiasts, teeming with curiosity, snatched up chairs and the circle was soon filled. The room darkened, and candles were lit on a small table in the center of the circle.
Theo's eyes closed, and the room fell deathly silent. Only the dull hum of the DVR filled the night. Once again the clock seemed to stop as everyone waited in anticipation of what might happen next.
“Will the children please join us in the circle?” Theo asked in a trance-like voice. His words came out quiet and slurred, like a novice drinker who had consumed a few too many. Theo sat somewhat slumped over in the massive throne, and began to mumble as the spirit came to him. He could not sense the children in the room, but he could feel a presence behind him. The energy drew closer, leaning in, and began to speak to him.
“The children are hiding upstairs, as they often do.” The voice said, and Theo repeated in a nearly indiscernible vocalization. “It is I, Amelia.” Again, Theo repeated while Sterling made every attempt to understand and scratch down her notes in the faint candlelight.
“You have brought me to my children, and for that I am grateful.” The words were conveyed through Theo, and then penned to paper.
To Theo's left, about one quarter of the way around the circle, sat Rick Hayes. I stood almost directly behind Rick, and from my vantage point, I could make nothing out that was said, and impatiently waited for the séance to end. I had noticed that Rick seemed to not be able to keep his attention focused into the circle also. He repeatedly turned to look at me, and smile, and then look behind me towards the old bar across the bingo room. I could no longer hold my tongue, and stooped down behind him.
“So, what do you think, Rick?” I whispered as silently as I could. “I'm not sure where the children are, but the three guys sitting back at the bar keep joking with each other, saying - I ain't goin' in the middle of all that.” He smiled again. “These guys, I believe are part of the militia... the gun runners that Allison told us about.”
“Interesting… So, how are we going to get them out of
here? Those guys have to be the malevolent entities we've encountered.” I asked, hoping Rick had some simple answer, and he did.
“We just try to help them cross over. It's all we can do.” His words were directed at me, but as he spoke, he looked over his shoulder and mine, and I had a feeling that I wasn't the only one listening to him.
*** The séance had ended and Theo slowly awoke from his connection to the other side. The time had come to split up into two groups and try to find the ghosts that hid from us. It was much easier to divide this smaller group. Half of the visitors joined Jordan, Barb, Del, and I to begin investigating downstairs, while Theo, Jenn, Katie and Grace took the remaining guests to the second story.
The group I was leading was joined by Rick Hayes, and all was fairly calm and inactive as we investigated room by dismal room of the basement. The flashlights flickered, catching bits of dust in their beams as they scanned the dank passages and web filled, abandoned spaces in the oldest parts of the building. The dancing lights passed by the old boiler room, and Rick was immediately drawn back to the portentous, wooden wheelchair that sat hidden within its decrepit walls. He meandered slowly into the room, followed by several flashlight, and meter, bearing investigators. Eyes widened, and winced as Rick took a seat in the grimy layers of accumulated dust and debris of the chair. It popped, and groaned under the weight of a living being. Everyone, including Rick, was silent and anticipated some supernatural phenomenon. Nothing seemed to happen.
Our apprentice investigator, Jordan pulled me out of the boiler room away from everyone else. He was anxious to learn the proper way to investigate and to really do something that was more hands on. I reached into my front pocket and retrieved a digital recorder. I pointed to a door directly across from the boiler room. It was barely cracked open, and I motioned him to give it a gentle nudge. With a ghastly creaking sound, the door swung inward.