Alas, I finally realize the days of investigating ghosts with a few friends, having a little fun and unwinding from life’s other stresses are far behind me. What was originally planned as a small romp to Lonesome Lock ended up being a dinner/venting fest followed by a long trek in the park with over a dozen people. Going “back to my roots” and leaving all the drama behind just wasn’t happening.
Evelyn, her son, and I arrived at the Winking Lizard in Peninsula where we met up with Bill, Chris, and Ben. We grabbed some tables and waited for everyone else so our earlier discussions could commence. Once everyone showed up, the powwow began… and I was left in the corner of the other table. Yes, the “invisible boy” that I am remains my role. A hew people hashed out grievances while I discussed haunted places and ideas with Chris. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the other conversation here and there, but I was sure to remember my place in it all. Bill passed out the brief historical sketch which I whipped up at the last minute and things started to settle down.
As the dinner portion came to a close, I was suddenly struck with a massive headache in my left temple. We returned to the parking lot where I realized I had left my bag back in the restaurant. I rushed back to retrieve it, only making the oncoming migraine ten times worse. And then, we set out on our journey… with myself following in the back like a tourist. I bumbled along until the gang reached a lock, slamming me with 20 questions: was this Lonesome Lock? What’s this over here? Why are we stopping? Ken? Ken?! Ken!!
I sat down near the lock to get a little reiki to try to alleviate the throbbing pain. An angel was called upon to perform a miraculous healing. All I wanted was some extra-strength Tylenol. I attempted to relax and meditate a bit amid the chaos of voices swirling around me. The brief stop did ease my headache, though it wasn’t abated entirely. We pressed onward, stopping at the tracks to find the one spirit which lingered there. I filmed some footage in a vain attempt to capture anything, although several people were shouting about different things they were sensing. The pandemonium was a bit difficult to follow.
One of the psychics mentioned to me casually that a psychic in Cleveland is badmouthing me and my book. She claims that I used several of her stories and am basically a rotten person. Later on, I had a chance to think in depth and I can recall two places she did mention to me which ended up in the book, yet I told her about every haunted location I knew of as well as gave her a brief history of each. Of course, she blatantly told me that my name would not be mentioned once on her tour. Even so, in the acknowledgments portion of my book I do mention her. I even Mentioned her tour. So which of us is the horrible one? Two out of 41 legends were relayed to me by her and I in turn thanked her and gave free press to her in my book. Yet my assistance went unmentioned by her.
More drama to stir into a pot which is already overflowing.
A few people left before we reached the lock. they had found a lost cat near the parking lot and wanted to feed the starving feline. We went on to the lock and beyond to the boardwalk over Stumpy Basin. Conversations are difficult to recall through the pounding in my head. Bill provided the much-needed comic relief. The return trip seemed much longer and we lingered in the parking lot until 1:30 in the morning. Finally, I arrived at home, crawled into bed, tossed and turned, and eventually fell asleep while waiting for the aspirin to kick in.
Tonight’s a little shindig with friends, which will hopefully be more relaxing. I’m bringing along my book to point out and clarify where I thanked the Cleveland psychic for her contributions (which hopefully will find its way back to her and make her feel a little foolish for her statements). I’m still exhausted and sore. My back feels like I slept on a boulder, yet my head does not hurt.
What I wouldn’t give for a massage or a 4-hour soak in a tub right about now…
