Thread: The Mystery of Hemlock Bay

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Okay, gang. I woke up this morning really feeling the Halloween spirit. I don't know why actually since it's the middle of July and its 95 degrees and humid. But anyway, just call me crazy, but I think it's time for group story, about Halloween of course. The rules are simple, anyone can join in, just don't make a mockery of the story with ridiculous comments, and don't contradict an existing storyline. I'll start it off by setting the atmosphere. This story takes place in the fictional fishing village of Hemlock Bay, Maine. It is the beginning of October.

Chapter 1.
Jake woke with a pounding headache. It had been a long night at the local pub. They had been celebrating Tina's birthday and a large group of the old gang showed up. It seemed like ages since Jake saw his old high school crowd, but coming from a small town like Hemlock Bay, it was expected that you'd see the same people for most of your life. Last May he had graduated Boston College and was back home for the summer trying to figure out what came next in his life's plan.

He rose slowly from this bed and reluctantly opened the shade to his bedroom window. The light shined in and felt like someone plugged a dagger between his eyes. When he finally adjusted to the light, he looked out over the bay. His parent's old Victorian sat high on the ridgeline that overlooked the bay. It was an excellent view of all the goings on in the little hamlet. As a boy, Jake would love to gaze out the window and watch the fishing boats come in and sound their horns. So many days he spent dreaming of embarking on the excitement of a life at sea. But his parents would hear nothing of it. He was going to college and get an education. "I guess they were right", Jake thought to himself, after all it were the tales of swashbuckling and pirate adventures that attracted him to the sea, not the hard backbreaking work of a deep-sea commercial fisherman.

It was October 2nd and the fall was upon Hamlock Bay, the leaves were turning and the crisp clear air was a last invitation for outside activity before the cold and harsh winds of a Maine winter froze over the bay and sentence everyone to 4 months of house arrest.

Jake thought autumn was by far the most interesting time of the year to be in Hemlock Bay. Most sleepy New England towns had their own lore and superstitions, but Hemlock was exceptional in that regard. Each year around Halloween, the town would be filled with Ghost Hunters and Halloween enthusiasts out to experience the paranormal or investigate one of the various ghostly legends. Modern day Hemlock benefited quite nicely from its infamous superstitions with an influx of tourist dollars. The local rotary and civic organizations had planned a months full of activities to keep the fish on the hook. But it wasn't always that way. Jake could remember his grandma Silva telling him how when she was a child, there was a very real fear that filled the village around October. The old seadogs that mined the waters for Lobster would come back from a day's work with tales of nightly encounters with Ghostly vessels. On the outskirts of town, there were stories of werewolves and creatures of the night that stalked the Greybriar Woods and made moonlight raids on the poor farmers livestock. The stuff that made excellent fader for movie scripts. But that's all it really was, tales dreamt up by the active imagination of people whose lives were very small. These people had lived here for generations and never left. Hell, they never even traveled. Portland was the big city to these folks.

Jake eventually dragged himself downstairs and headed for the bathroom, the medicine cabinet, more precisely. Where was that much-needed aspirin? He had to at least tame this hangover a bit if he was ever going to make it out of this house. It was about 10am and the house was empty. Both Mom and Dad had headed off to work and his younger sister, Andrea was at school. Once he gobbled down 3 of the little white life savers and quaffed his 3 glasses of water, he sat down to relax a moment at the breakfast table. There laid the morning paper and a small white envelope. Inside was a note, " Jake, hope your headache isn't too bad. Please mow the lawn today, see you at dinner. Love, Mom". Jake snickered to himself, as he reached for the paper with one hand he used the other to fondled with the tie on the wrapping of a loaf of Wonder bread in an attempt to make some toast.

That's when the headline caught his eye.:"Search is on for Missing Girl". He couldn't believe his eyes; below the headline was a huge picture of Stephanie Drake. Jake couldn't mistake that picture, he had one just like it somewhere in his photo albums. It was Stephanie's high School Senior picture. Jake and Stephanie had dated for all of senior year. But things fizzled out after they both went off to different colleges.

Jake dropped the bread grabbed the paper and headed straight to the telephone. "Billy...it's Jake, did you see the paper today? Well you better take a look, you remember Stephanie Drake? well she's missing... No I'm serious... Can you call around and see what you can find out?... Okay, let me know. I'll be here. Thanks." Jake hung of the phone and went back to reading the article in its entirety. Calling Billy Connelly was the first thing that came to mind, Billy never went to college and had gone directly into his Father's Electrician business. Therefore, Billy kept in touch with all the old crowd and knew just about everyone in town. If there was any type of behind the scenes info on what may have happened here, Billy would find it.

Jake finished making his toast and was preparing to hit the yard work, but he couldn't get Stephanie off is mind. What could have happened? A feeling of dread began to overtake him like a wave. "No" he said to himself. "I always do this, always thinking the worst, just stop it. There nothing you can do about it now." Jake always did worry too much. And in this case it was silly, putting aside for a moment that fact that he hadn't talked to her in over 3 years, it was much too early to jump to that horrible conclusion. She probably took a trip without telling her folks. He remembered Stephanie being a bit flaky and longing for adventure. She was into the amateur ghost hunting scene long before that Sci Fi Channel show made it hip. In any case, Jake wasn't about to have a cow now. He'd get back to his normal routine and wait for future word.

Jake made his way downstairs to the yard. His parents’ house had 3 floors and basement. The fact that it was situated on the top of a hill made it seem to perched high above everything. As he made is way down the cellar to the back door, he passed Winston, the family's lazy house cat. Sleeping and purring on his pillow nestled next to the old sofa set they had placed in the basement in a half attempt to finish it. "Hey buddy," Jake said, stopping, kneeling and scratching the old feline under the neck. Winston's eyes slowly opened as he approvingly placed his front paw on Jake hand. " Nice life you got Winston, care to help me in the yard? Or better still, how about trying to cul the mouse problem we seem to have every fall." Winston couldn't look less interested as he rolled over and returned to the business of sleeping. "Figures." Jake laughed as he pulled the lawn mower out into the yard.

The fall air hit Jake immediately; the cool crisp wind filled his lungs with life. He stopped a moment and took a deep breath. "Awesome" he said. This was going to be easier then the thought. Not having to deal with the sweltering Indian summer heat wave that had just broken was going to make the yard work a snap. As he looked around for the gas can he could help but appreciate the bright orange fo the Oaks and the yellow of the maples that lined his yard. As each gust of wind claiming a handful of leave, sprinkling the yard with a shower of color, Jake couldn’t help but long for that smell on freshly fallen leaves that made autumn so distinct.

About two hours had passed when Jake finally found himself finishing up his yard work and putting away the various rakes and tools. Suddenly he heard the phone start ringing upstairs. Jake had been engrossed in his work and experiencing the mind clearing effects of the great autumn weather, he didn't give the phone a second thought until the 3rd ring. That's when it hit him. "oh s***, Billy." He dropped everything and ran through the basement up the stairs to the kitchen. The answering machine had already picked up when he finally grabbed the phone. "HeeHello," he said, stuttering and visibly out of breathe from the run. The voice on the other line said "Beware of the Ghost of the Captain Longe”…”What?” Jake responded, startled by the statement. “Jacob Longe… the Pirate.”…just then Jake recognized Billy’s voice. “Okay, Billy, what the hell are you talking about?”..”Relax, geez Jake, I found out new on Stephanie, isn’t that what you wanted? Stephanie went on one of her little ghost hunting trips and Jacob Longe was the ghost she was looking for.” Billy said. “Okay, where did you hear this?” “I got it straight from Judy, those two have become pretty close in the last few years.” “ So what did she say, is she worried.” Jake said the tone and speed of his speech gave a clear indication that he was really concerned. “Yeah, she’s worried, Steph hasn’t been seen or heard from for the past 3 days, the cops are involved, that’s why it hit the paper. You know how good they are keeping secrets.”

“I don’t know Billy, I’ thinking we should do something”, said Jake. “Woah, wait a minute dude, don’t you remember what a flake she was? She’s probably off in another state investigating Bigfoot or something. Leave it alone. Let the cops handle it. If it’s anything serious, they’ll deal with it. Anyway, why do you care, you haven’t seen her in what…3 years?” Jake just listened. Billy posed a good question, why should he care? Maybe he shouldn’t get involved and get back to building his own life. “ Okay Bill, I was just worried, you know how I get.” Jake said. “Yeah, I know, don’t sweat it. Listen, I got a job to do, I’ll call you tonight, “ responded Billy. “ Later” Jake said, as he hung up the phone.

As Jake attempted to return to the humdrum routine of the day, he couldn’t help but think about the Ghost of Jacob Longe. He remembered the legend from childhood, but didn’t remember the specifics. His mind was obsessing and if he didn’t feed that obsession, he’d go nuts. Jake decided he had to do a little research to feed his curiosity and the best place to do that was Hemlock Bay Public Library. That’s where he was headed, right after he showered.

Jake decided to ride his bicycle to the library. Although he knew the ride back would be more than a bitch up that never ending hill, he felt the weather was nice enough that it was worth the sacrifice. He pulled out his old green 10 speed road bike and wheeled it out of the garage. The bike hadn't been used in so long that the oil on the chain had become to solidify through the collection of dust. He filled the tires with air from a foot pump and he was off.

The library was located in the center of town, or what was referred to as the village. This was where the original settlement was located and the 2 or 3 block area was rich in historical building dating back to the 18th century. This was part of the charm of Hemlock Bay, a shore community, with a very long and rich history. As Jake coasted down the steep hill upon which his home rested, he began to take notice of the Halloween decorations and yard haunts that were beginning to pop up around the town. Hemlock was also notorious for it's annual "Home Haunt" contest.

This was one of those activities and local customs that helped bring in the tourists. Some of the people of Hemlock Bay, especially in the village section, took this tradition very seriously. Yard displays with moving figures such as hovering ghosts, rising zombies and flying witches were all the rave. Each year it got more intense, each neighbor trying to out do the other. The custom was so big that even those folks who weren't that into Halloween, would at least have a Jack o Lantern or two on their porch. There was even a time when the town council declared Hemlock Bay to be the Halloween Capital of America.

After passing the old Lutheran church and turning the corner down Maple Ave, Jake arrived at the Library. It was located in an old converted Schoolhouse, built circa 1880. It had been remodeled and there were plenty of extensions but it was still very clear where the old school building began and ended. Jake placed his bike in the bicycle stand and went inside.

As Jake entered the library he was hit with that smell of old wood that accompanied any visit to a historical building. He loved that smell, he always thought it was so inviting and homey feeling. The building was largely empty, which was not a surprise for this time of day and time of year. The droves of grammar students that would normally fill the place with giggles and laughter, to the chagrin of the librarian of course, were all safely corralled in school.

Ms Shannigrad, the old spinster that was the town library for over 50 years was seated behind her reference desk, quietly hard a work. She was the stereotypical portrait of a librarian, in her late 70s, silver white, cropped up hair, pearl earrings with the brown framed reading glasses attached to a beedstring hanging around her neck. A smile came to Jake's face as memories of being scolded by Ms. S for the rowdy behavior he exhibited as a child.

Jake walk up to the reference desk. "Good Morning Mrs. S." . Ms Shannigrad slowly looked up from her book over her reading glasses. "Jake Thompson, I haven't seen you in years" she said with a smile. "How can my humble library help a scholar from Boston College?" she asked. Jake Laughed, "Well, I'm looking for information on the history of Hemlock Bay, particular some of its more noteworthy citizens like Jacob Longe". "Ah, yes, very interesting subject, especially at this time of year. We keep all those books and manuscripts safely tuck away in reference. You have to do all your reading here." Ms. S. led Jake back to the reference room and pulled out 3 very old books from the shelves. "Now, I just need you to sign that your are using these books" Ms. S said as he pulled out the sign in sheet. As Jake took the pen and began to sign his name, he saw the last signature on the list was Stephanie’s, dated just 4 days ago. Jake wondered if the police knew about this, but one thing was for sure, Billy's information was correct, Stephanie was looking for Jacob Longe when she vanished.

Jake began to thumb through the thick old book, looking for the period of time in which he remembered the Legend of Jacob Longe took place in. The early 1700's. It was the toward the end of what some historians call the "Golden Age of Piracy". He began by looking that chapter entitled " Founders". Jacob Longe's name was all over the text. It seems that there were two sides to the story. One where he was a vicious pirate and the other where he was a leading citizen and founder of the village. The official story state that Captain Jacob Longe was the Captain of a English ship that was bringing passengers to the new world, headed for either Philadelphia or New York.

The voyage in question was said to have taken place in the early Fall of 1730. Well a sudden, late season hurricane was heading up the eastern seaboard, hammered the ship and sent it hundreds of miles of course to the North. The Ship ran aground right here at Hemlock Bay. Because, the ship was so badly damaged, the survivors had little choice with the coming winter than to build a settlement. While striving to survive, the group learned of the excellent fishing waters that common to this region and ultimately decided to stay, even though this was French Territory at the time. It seems Jacobs Longe was instrumental in helping the group survive and build a striving community. "So where did the pirate legend come from." Jake said to himself as he looked up from his book. Suddenly he heard a voice answer him, "You won't find the real story in that book son". The voice came from over his shoulder. He whipped around, unaware that there was anyone else in the reference room. There stood an elderly gentleman, late seventies, possibly eighties, short white beard, seaman's cap and coat, unlit pipe in his mouth.

The old man slowly made his way over to Jake's table and sat down opposite him. Jake was still a bit startled, but his curiosity was stronger. "I'm sorry, Sir, I was talking to myself, didn't mean to disturb you." Jake said with a smile. "I believe, I was the one who was doing the disturbing," the old man said with a laugh. "I used to hate when folks would interrupt me when I was going research. I just heard to say that name and I thought I could help. I, Samuel Hauser, and you are?" the old fellow said holding out his hand. " Jake Thompson Sir, and I know you, or at least I've heard of you. You were the town historian for many years and actual gave a presentation once when I was in school."

"Well, yeah, I was the historian, that was before people around here started writing revisionist history, like in the case of your subject there Captain Jacob "Rot Gut" Longe". Jake had never heard that nickname before and couldn't wait to learn more about it. "You see, the legend of Jacob Longe is actually what you read in that history book, all lies. The reality is more like the local legend only much darker." The old man continued. "How could that be?" Jake asked " Are you saying that these very old Manuscripts were falsified? And for what purpose?"

" Yeah, your right, don't listen to the ranting of a crazy old coot like me" Sam said has began to rise and leave, placing the pipe back in his mouth. "No wait, Mr. Hauser, I didn't mean anything by it, I was just asking. I'd love to hear what you have to say on the subject, if you'd be willing." Jake pleaded. A smile once again returned to Sam's face. "Okay, if you've go a couple of hours and really are interested, the place to learn the truth is at my house. Join me for a beer and a long story." Jake was sold, the conventional history was getting him nowhere and that obsessive nature of his was taking over again. He was willing to take a chance and see where this next path took him. Jake closed the book and followed Sam out the door.

The two men arrived at Sam Hauser’s home in no time. He lived, literally a block from the library. His home like many others in the area was historically designated and Sam was very good at maintaining the old country charm. It was a Victorian, much like the one Sam grew up in only this one has a very large porch that encircled 3 sides of the house. Jake leaned his bike up against the picket fence and followed Sam up the stairs to the porch. Each step they took on this ancient lumber seemed to make the old boards grown and screech a little louder.

"Oh don't mind that." said Sam. "Have to get around to replacing some of those old planks, it's just so hard to find the right wood and with this being in the historic district, every insignificant repair you try to make has to be run by those squawking old hens that make up the historical society." Jake smiled; he was really beginning this like this guy’s ways. Jake was a sucker for that down to earth, no nonsense personality. At least that's what Jake surmised from the whole 20 minutes the he knew the man.

As Sam opened the double front doors, he heard an equally loud squeak from the hinges. " The historical society prevent you from using WD-40 too?" Jake said with a sarcastic smirk. " Okay smart ass, you got me there." replied Sam with a laugh. The hallway to Sam home had that musty old haunted house smell, but Jake couldn't help but admire the beautiful solid Oak molding that lined the doorways and windows and made up the railing on the center staircase. Old gas light lamp fixtures still hung from walls that were covered in various clashing patterns of wallpaper. This was going to be more interesting that Jake thought. This house itself was a standing record of history in the small town. Oh the stories these walls could tell, he thought, as he followed Sam down the hall into the Kitchen.