“Was this the first time you encountered a ghost there?”
“No. I’ve heard of strange goings on and sightings before. I figured it was just a bunch of kids playing a prank, or there to steal the props. It’s happened. And get this, someone told me that a murder occurred at Funland years ago.”
“What happened?”
“Some employee got whacked there after hours. It’s still unsolved. Rumor has it that his spirit haunts the park and that he was responsible for some fatal accidents on rides.” Dan shook his head. “Creepy. Anyway, management has been slow to respond. That’s why I’m here…I don’t have much money but I’ll pay you what I can.”
Taylor grinned reassuringly. “No worries. I’d be happy to help.”
* * *
Taylor and Jan went to Bizarro the following day, during a break from the convention. The dry summertime heat of Sacramento hit them as soon as they stepped out of Taylor’s air conditioned station wagon. Like a slap in the face.
Jan frowned. “Oh!”
Dan greeted them at the entrance. “I know, tell me about it. Believe it or not, people like me actually live here and get used to it.”
“Why torture yourself?” she asked.
“You look like Jean Rasey.”
“Who’s that?” Jan asked curiously.
“She was the actress who played George in the Nancy Drew TV series from the late ’70s.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
They went inside the crowded amusement park that was thronged with screaming teenagers and children. Dan gave them a brief tour of the park and then introduced them to the owner, a middle-aged man who donned a cowboy hat and boots.
“Howdy, name’s Skyler,” he said, extending his big, calloused hand.
Taylor and Jan shook it.
“Heard you were comin’,” Skyler continued. “I’m gonna be up front with chu, Taylor. I don’t need no witch doctor snoopin’ around here, performin’ your mumbo-jumbo. But I like to consider myself an open-minded man from time to time. So I listened to young Dan here and he convinced me. So I tell you what. I’m gonna give you two days max to find this ghost. After that, you’re history. Clear?”
“That’s not a lot of time,” Taylor replied. “Sometimes it takes a while for spirits to appear. You have to build a rapport with them, bond with them.”
Skyler chuckled. “That sounds so frickin’ gay! No wonder you’re from Berkeley.”
Taylor was beginning to not like this dude but kept his cool.
“Two days,” Skyler said firmly, and he stormed off.
Dan’s face was red. “Sorry about that. Sometimes he’s nice, other times…”
Taylor nodded understandingly. “People have their days. I definitely won’t debate politics with him. Can you show us the rides?”
“Sure,” he said, drying the perspiration off his face with his handkerchief.
They passed by a long, twisty roller coaster called The Serpent. A string of cars zipped by, hanging upside down above them, with kids dangling their arms and screaming.
“Ahh, the good ole days of summer,” Taylor remarked with a grin. “Carnival rides, cotton candy, corndogs, funnel cakes, and pretty women in shorts.”
Jan elbowed him. “Hot looking guys, too,” she added.
Dan laughed, leading the way. They reached the Funhouse minutes later, seeing the long line outside of it. The Haunted Goldmine had an equally lengthy queue. Two teens got in a black car and it cruised along the track at the Funhouse, entering the giant mouth of a clown. The car paused at the dungeon-style doors beyond for a moment, then continued in slowly. The teens giggled. Later they screamed.
Taylor looked at the entrance of the Haunted Goldmine. It was essentially a man-made cave opening that ore carts on the track went through. He thought the 1800s period detail looked pretty accurate for an amusement park ride. An ore cart with a skeleton in it sat on one side of the entrance, while on the other stood the life-sized figure of an old time gold prospector, guarding the mine like a sentry. His mustache and beard were disheveled, a sinister look on his realistic-looking face. He held up a lantern in his right hand.
“Spooky,” Taylor said to Dan.
“Yeah, it’ll give you some chills compared to some other cheesy rides here. A woman got so scared she fainted. A few other patrons claimed to have seen ghosts inside.”
“Well, that’s what we’re here for,” Jan replied. “Ready, Professor?”
“Yes. We’ll set up our gear tonight, when everyone’s long gone.”
“Oooooooooh, creepy!” Jan said, smiling devilishly.
* * *
It was after midnight. Taylor, Jan, and Dan were inside the dark, cavernous Funhouse. They had walked up the car track and set up their equipment in the middle of the ride, right below a giant spider that rested on a fake web. Occasionally, the eerie silence was shattered by creaking sounds, the low howl of wind coming in through cracks, the expansion of wood, and what sounded like someone wailing or moaning.
Taylor put his finger to his lips. “Hear that?”
The other two nodded.
“Ever hear that before?” he asked Dan.
The beefy security guard nodded. “I tried to find where it originated but was unsuccessful.”
“Sounds like they’re crying for help,” Jan commented.
Taylor looked down at the screen of his laptop. The wailing registered as a series of jagged peaks and lows. Moments later, however, the noise ceased and a flatline was displayed on the screen. He checked the other laptops that were hooked up to video cameras throughout the Funhouse. No sign of activity.
“Those are wired for sound, too, right?” Dan asked.
“Yes,” Taylor replied.
Five minutes later, Jan pointed to the main laptop. The flatline disappeared, replaced by small peaks. They heard faint footsteps coming through the speakers.
Jan covered her mouth, her eyes wide. “Could it be?” she whispered.
Taylor checked the other screens, seeing no one. “Is this familiar, Dan?”
He nodded. The footsteps grew louder. It sounded like they were in the same room. The screens still showed nothing. Eventually, the footsteps stopped.
“Could it be someone playing a prank?” Jan asked. “Perhaps someone that broke in?”
Dan stared at the flatline, whispering: “I locked up all the entrances securely after we came in.”
* * *
Taylor looked at his watch: 3:06AM. He stifled a yawn, looking at the laptops. The flatline was abruptly shattered, replaced by a high, jagged peak as they all heard a loud stomp coming through the speakers. A second stomp followed. It was as though someone pounded their feet as hard as they could on the ground.
Taylor studied the screens but they showed nothing. On one laptop, he clicked the mouse a few times, zooming in on an image of one of the back doors. Earlier, when Taylor and Jan were setting up shop, they had poured baby powder on the floor at each entrance. Taylor and Jan saw that the straight line of powder at this door had been broken, and that white footprints led off into the darkness.
Dan led them quietly to that back door, pointing his flashlight at the broken line, then at the footprints. He checked the door. “It’s locked,” he said. He double-checked all the entrances and reported they were all secure. Upon his return, there was a puzzled expression on his face. “I’m getting a weird feeling about this, you guys,” he whispered.
“Ditto,” Jan added.
“You’re feeling the same way you did during the last encounter?” Taylor inquired.
“A little, it’s not as strong as before…but something definitely doesn’t feel right, know what I’m saying?”
Taylor nodded. “Something in the atmosphere…I feel that cold draft, too. Do you want to go?”
“No, I’ll stick it out.”
“Are you sure? We can leave, it’s no problem.”
“I’m okay, thanks.”
They waited and surveyed the Funhouse for a few more hours but there were no other unusual phenomena.
* * *
The next day was quite busy for Taylor and Jan at the ghost convention. Taylor spoke as part of a panel discussion on the topic of haunted houses. Later in the day, he moderated another panel on séances, and an actual séance was held on stage in the hotel’s auditorium. Afterwards, he helped Jan pack up their gear. A patron came up to him with a book on ghosts Taylor wrote years ago, asking for his autograph.
The professor smiled. “Glad it’s still in print,” he remarked, signing the book.
He and Jan had lunch in the hotel coffee shop. Afterwards he went to his room and continued writing an article about the convention for his magazine. Jan came by later, handing him a manila envelope.
“Here are the ghost pictures I took,” she said. “Some of them aren’t that great. Let me know which ones we can use for the magazine. So we’re sticking with the theme of ghosts and this convention for the next issue?”
He flipped through the photos. “Yes. Hey, these are pretty good. Don’t sell yourself short, kid. I’ll publish them.”
She grinned. “Thanks. How’s the article coming along?”
“It’s coming,” he replied. “There’s a few more people I have to interview. Better get on it before they leave the convention.” He grabbed his notepad and pen.
* * *
Taylor glanced at his watch: 11:12PM. He and Jan had been stationed inside the Funhouse for the past few hours. No paranormal activity, nothing. They decided to move to the dark confines of the Haunted Goldmine. Dan met up with them minutes later, donning his security guard uniform.
“Skyler’s getting antsy,” he said. “He thinks this is all a waste of time.”
Jan raised her eyebrows. “Even with the evidence we showed him?”
“Well, once you start working for the man you get to know his pet peeves.”
“I assume he cares more about profits than patron safety.”
“That’s his outlook, unfortunately.”
Taylor scanned the laptops. Nothing but darkness. They had set up shop in the mid-section of the mine, near the cart track. He shone his flashlight at a skeleton wearing a 49er mining outfit. Nearby another life-sized figure of a miner squatted on the ground panning for gold. He had a demonic look on his face.
About two hours passed before they heard the wailing sound again. It echoed throughout the tunnels of the mine. Like someone crying for help.
Taylor looked around them. “Seems like it’s coming from all directions.”
The wailing gradually turned into mad laughter. Jan looked at Taylor. He checked his laptop. The noise registered as high, jagged peaks on the screen. Then the laughter stopped abruptly and there was complete silence. Taylor felt that odd, ‘something doesn’t feel right’ sensation Dan mentioned earlier. The hackles on the back of his neck went up, sweat beaded across his face, and he sensed that cold draft again.
He saw the anxious, pale expression on the security guard’s face. “You okay, Dan?”
“Yeah…I know I look like I just saw a ghost, no pun intended…I’m okay.” He took deep breaths.
Jan pointed ahead. “Look!”
A white apparition of a clown appeared down the tunnel. It floated in the air, approaching them slowly. Taylor looked behind them, making sure this wasn’t some projection. He had discovered his share of hoaxes. The image was being recorded and displayed on the laptop.
As it got closer he could make out the apparition’s features: it was a male clown with dark, curly hair, stars painted around his eyes, had a big, round ball for a nose, and it had a wicked grin. His traditional clown clothing included overalls and big, floppy shoes. The grin grew more sinister.
Jan’s eyes were wide open. “Is he going...look out, he’s gonna hit us!”
With that, the clown swooshed at them fast. It went through them and floated back around for another hit. Again, it flew quickly through the trio, the evil smile locked on its face.
“Greetings,” Taylor said calmly to the clown. “We wish to communicate with you. Please identify yourself.”
“I hate to be a party pooper but I don’t think this guy is the chatting type,” Dan said.
“Let me try,” Taylor whispered. He turned his attention back to the ghost. “Hello, we wish to communicate with you. We come in peace.”
The clown swished through them once more, making their hair fly back.
“Why do you haunt this place?” Taylor inquired. “Perhaps we can assist you in moving on. Please respond.”
The clown, floating near the ceiling, came at them again, with more furious intensity this time, almost knocking down one of the laptops.
“Uhh, I think we need to move on to plan B, Professor,” Jan whispered.
The clown knocked the flashlight out of Dan’s hand. “That wasn’t cool.”
Taylor took out a handgun from his briefcase, aimed it at the clown, and fired. The round of rock salt hit the white, mist-like entity, making it scatter in a cloud of smoke.
“What the heck was that?” Dan asked.
“Plan B,” Taylor replied calmly.
* * *
“Your time’s up,” Skyler said.
“But we made contact,” Taylor reasoned. “Give us a little more time and maybe we can get rid of this ghost.”
Skyler leaned back in his office chair, putting his boots up on one end of his desk. “It ain’t botherin’ me none. It ain’t hurtin’ business.”
“You don’t care if your employees or visitors get hurt?”
“Of course I care! I care so much I gave all those little runts a raise. Ain’t that nice of me?” he asked, shooting him a sly grin.
Before he could respond, Skyler added, “And I gave them all health benefits! What do you say to that, mister witch doctor? Ain’t that real nice of me?”
“Well, that’s very generous of you,” Taylor replied, not liking the label witch doctor one bit.
“Damn straight! So don’t run around accusin’ me of not looking after my workers, Hoss. I take it real personal, you hear? Oh, I care all right. I care up to my eyeballs. Selfish, mean, I ain’t. I got people here who’ve got families to feed, kids to put through school, the whole nine yards. I ain’t no fascist dictator, you hear?”
“Whoa, whoa! I didn’t mean to knock you off your high horse. I’m just trying to help you prevent further accidents at the park. Which, by the way, brings up this murder that occurred here years ago. Can you elaborate on that?”
“Don’t know nuthin’ ’bout that.”
“You have no information at all?”
“You got wax in your ears or something, witch doctor?”
“Can you tell me more about these fatal accidents at the park?”
Skyler glanced at his watch. “Your two days are up, witch doctor. I want you and your assistant outta here pronto. Now git!”
* * *
Back at the hotel room, Taylor and Jan analyzed the video and audio recordings. Taylor used his mouse and clicked the ‘PLAY’ button on the laptop’s screen. They, along with Dan, who was sitting in a chair, listened to the wailing sound again. Taylor studied the jagged peaks and lows registering on the screen. He replayed the clip, enhancing the sound quality on the computer. They listened to one version that featured just the wailing and nothing else. No background noise, no distortion.
“That’s the purest, most raw cut of the wailing,” Taylor said, rubbing his chin. “I don’t think it’s fraudulent.”
“How can you be certain?” Dan asked, leaning forward.
“Well, for one thing there’s no background
hiss that usually accompanies audio recordings of this nature. I’ve listened to continuous loops of sound bytes that generally contain some form of hissing, and that have a redubbed, echo-like quality. I mean, you can hear the echo of the wailing in the tunnel, but it sounds natural. Also, Jan and I checked the mine and Funhouse and didn’t find any projection or sound equipment that could’ve produced that ghost and those sounds.”
“Tell that to Skyler,” Jan said.
“I’m afraid that’s going to fall on deaf ears,” Taylor replied. “He wants us to leave.”
“But you’ve made so much progress,” Dan protested. “You’ve come this far, you can’t go now.”
“Well, if you can convince your boss to extend our stay we’d be happy to finish the investigation.”
Dan’s brow furrowed in thought. “I’ll work on it.”
They listened to the audio recording of the mad laughter, and Taylor enhanced the sound quality again. He came to the same conclusion about this clip. Next, they reviewed the most important evidence, the video footage of the clown. Taylor kept hitting the ‘PLAY’ button, and they watched it multiple times. He enhanced the video quality as best as he could. In one version, he blocked out everything except the clown. He also zoomed in close on the image.
“What do you think?” Taylor asked.
“It looks pixilated,” Jan commented.
“That’s how video is. But if you look carefully the ghost still retains that mist-like quality that we saw in person. And notice there aren’t any strings attached to it, controlling it or making it float. I double checked that part of the tunnel and didn’t find any strings or theatrical equipment to support that claim.”
“Remember the sensation when he flew through us?” Dan asked.
Taylor nodded. “It was a cold draft.”
* * *
Dan approached the stage, where Taylor was putting papers into his briefcase.
“Great presentation,” Dan said. “You had me scribbling notes like a madman.”
Space and Time Issue 121 Page 6