Halloween has come early! The monsters in the woods, ghosts in the shadows, and UFO’s in the air all came to light at the Paranormal Fair this past weekend. I packed up my car and drove to Fort Knox, which has been known to house a ghost or two. I’ve been to the fort many times before, but this was the first time I had gone for the paranormal fair. Since my book is about a certain cryptid, I thought it was perfect timing.
The rain held off for a beautiful and warm Saturday, leaving nothing but blue skies over the overcrowded parking lot. I was lucky enough to grab a parking space that was recently vacated and started walking toward the amphitheater, where experts in their respective fields were scheduled to speak.
I sat and listened to the session about Maine cryptids. The speaker held a big basket in front of them and called volunteers from the audience to pick something from it. Each item contained a story. As he held a large moose antler, I heard the story of the Specter Moose that lives in the Maine woods. Since the 1800s, people have recorded seeing a large white moose prowling through the trees around Moosehead Lake. The speaker mimed someone he knew trying to shoot it, but it kept charging towards them. They shot it again and again and again, but the bullet never pierced. They threw away their rifle and hid under a log, desperate to get away from the angered beast, but when they reemerged, it was like the creature had never been there at all.
The lesson here, of course, is to be careful with what creatures you choose to interact with, which was a good lesson that carried over to my next stop at the fair. As I strolled along the path beside the fort, I came across a trailer filled with ouija boards. The owner offered to give a tour, pointing out which boards were the oldest and most cursed. The oldest board was encased in glass, dating back to 1891. The most cursed board was the only one that wasn’t hanging on the trailer’s walls. It leaned against the wall in the back of the trailer and was said to be found buried underneath the infamous Hell House in Pennsylvania. The owner explained that the first night after acquiring the board, their water main broke at their campsite, destroying their tent and rest. Since then, his wife performed a binding ritual that has seemingly kept the cursed energy contained. Just to be safe though, I kept my distance from the board.
There were several vendors inside the fort, and I spent an hour perusing books, crystals, terrarium cases, and other oddities. My favorite booth, however, was the one that was being run by Bigfoot hunters. They lured me in with free stickers and casts of footprints. I asked where their casts were from and was surprised to learn that some of them were from a town over from me. They explained that sightings occurred all over the state. They had a copy of the Patterson Gilman footprint cast for comparison, and the Maine footprints were even bigger. Casts were taken from central Maine, and the exhibitors shared a witness report of someone recently encountering Bigfoot crossing the road in Falmouth. In all my time exploring Maine, I’ve never seen Bigfoot, but armed with this new knowledge, I might have better luck looking in the future.
My favorite thing about the paranormal is that it challenges you to suspend your disbelief. When reading fiction, we suspend our disbelief all the time. Of course that fantasy world has dragons, why wouldn’t it? Of course, that child could find the golden ticket on the first try and his grandfather can suddenly walk after years of being bedridden. Why not, though? It’s more fun that way. When I listen to stories of strange beings that coexist in this world, I don’t always believe it, but part of me hopes it’s true anyway because it’s more fun that way.
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