Chapter 2: Father's Day
Greenwood Observatory, Jenny Jump State Forest. Sunday, June 19, 2005.
"This is the place," Peter announced, pulling up to a large two-story steel building.
Neal stared with curiosity at the structure. They'd spent the past hour driving through the wooded, rolling landscape of western New Jersey. The terrain had become more rugged as they approached the park. So far he hadn't seen the small town where Peter and El would stay, but he would tonight. El had made dinner reservations for them at the inn to celebrate Father's Day.
The only observatory Neal had seen was on top of Pupin Hall at Columbia University. "Where's the dome? Aren't observatories supposed to have domes for telescopes?"
"You see that row of side buildings? They're the storage sheds for the telescopes. The main building houses the classrooms, radio room, office, and sleeping facilities."
"This is much more elaborate than I would have expected."
Peter nodded proudly. "It's jointly run by all the astronomy clubs in New Jersey as well as the local colleges. There's even a maintenance shop on the premises."
"There's Travis's car," El said, pointing out his silver Saturn Ion. "And that SUV must belong to Janet. She said she was renting one for the week." Travis arrived at the observatory on Friday evening. He'd offered Neal the use of his car since he planned to spend every available moment using the telescopes.
On Saturday, Janet and Mozzie stopped by June's on the way to the forest and picked up Neal's bag and painting supplies. Neal knew Peter's car would be loaded. On the drive up, he and Satchmo had shared the back seat with camp supplies and craft materials.
Travis came outside to greet them and help them carry in their gear. Afterward, he showed off the radio room. Although it had originally been designed as a ham radio room, it was now primarily used for radio astronomy. Neal understood very little about radio astronomy but had picked up from Mozzie and Travis that it was the main tool used by SETI in its search for extraterrestrial life. When he heard about the observatory having a radio room, he wondered if Travis and Mozzie would spend all their free time looking for little green men, something he planned to tease them about frequently.
While Travis and Peter unpacked the camp supplies, El gave Neal a tour of the upstairs. Satchmo channeled his inner bloodhound and tagged along with them, sniffing every nook and cranny.
"I feel like I should have brought a duffel bag instead of a suitcase," Neal admitted. "Weren't you supposed to sew nametags on my clothes?"
"You're right! It's been so long I'd forgotten. When was the last time you attended camp?"
"I never went. This is a new experience."
"You didn't go to camp?"
El looked so distressed, Neal hastened to assure her it wasn't a big deal. And it wasn't. He remembered other kids had talked about the camps they'd attended over summer breaks. He'd hung out at the pool hall and the YMCA, spending his summers mastering pool. When he returned to school, everyone assumed he meant swimming, and he'd practiced that as well, but billiards turned out to be an even more useful skill.
Neal reached down to stroke Satchmo. "It's your first time, too, isn't it? We'll be newbies together."
"Are you sure you don't mind taking care of Satchmo?" El asked. "We could keep him with us at night."
"Sorry, but I've already claimed him as my bunkmate. He's also the official camp mascot and watchdog. Peter spent half the drive here lecturing me on bear etiquette and how to avoid bear encounters. Satchmo will be my defender."
"I think Peter was laying it on a little thick."
"I'm not so sure about that. Did you check out the bear pamphlet they gave us at the park entrance? From the sound of it, Jenny Jump is the nexus of black bear activity for the entire region."
"What's this about bears?" Peter asked, coming up the stairs with Travis. "Use your common sense and if that fails, run like hell. That's all you need to know."
"I've yet to see a bear," Travis reported, "and I've been here for three days."
"That means nothing," Neal scoffed. "When you weren't staring through a telescope, you had your eyes glued to a computer monitor. A bear could have come up behind you and you wouldn't have noticed."
Travis smiled sheepishly. "You're probably right. But, in any case, we'll eat well before we die. Janet has stocked the kitchen with supplies from the local farmers' markets."
"Is that wise? A bear might hear about it. You know how Janet loves wildlife. If she had to choose between us and a bear, you realize who she'd pick."
Peter stroked his chin. "Is that why she likes Mozzie? She thinks he's an endangered species?"
"Be nice, Peter!" El admonished. "You'd be sunk without his help at camp." She turned to Travis. "Where are Mozzie and Janet?"
"They should be back soon. He's showing her a cave he discovered. They spent the past couple of days exploring the park. This morning while she was off looking for butterflies, Mozzie found a cave that has . . ." Travis paused dramatically, giving a knowing nod.
"Cave slime?" Neal said with a groan.
Travis grinned. "What else? I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure I will."
"El, we better take off before they return," Peter said. "There will be no talk of slime—alien, cave, or otherwise—on Father's Day." He invited Travis to join them for dinner, but Travis wanted to spend the evening wrapped around the telescope.
After they left, Neal checked out the kitchen and was pleased to see Mozzie had brought along an extensive collection of wine for the occasion. Sleeping in a bunk bed would be a new experience. He and Satchmo tested the mattresses and found them acceptable. He would have chosen an upper bunk, but Satchmo insisted on a lower.
Unpacking was trivial. Neal had brought along one suit to wear to Father's Day dinner but the rest of the time he'd be in jeans and t-shirts.
Painting in the open air, bears, cave slime . . . Camp was sounding better and better. And that made him wonder if camps were like cons. No matter how much planning you made, something unexpected would inevitably come along to turn it into even more of an adventure. He'd soon find out.
#
After a long day's drive from Indiana, Sam and Dean arrived in Hope on Sunday evening. When they pulled up at the Inn at Millrace Pond, Chloe was waiting for them in the reception area. She told them she'd hoped they could eat in the dining room, but there weren't any free tables. Instead, they headed for the inn's tavern.
Sam took one look inside the posh dining room and was glad they weren't eating there. The men were all in jackets and ties. He and Dean would have stuck out like sore thumbs in their jeans and boots.
"I'd checked with the hostess this afternoon and she warned me we'd be out of luck unless they had a last-minute cancellation," said Chloe regretfully. "Between all the visitors in town for the festival and families celebrating Father's Day, we didn't stand a chance."
Father's Day was a topic Sam was trying to avoid. It wasn't that long ago their dad had been killed. He was glad Dean channeled the conversation onto the festival instead.
Chloe sprang for the first round of beers. With bowls of popcorn on the table and burgers on the way, she wouldn't hear any complaints from them, but she still felt the need to apologize. "I'd hoped to reserve a room for Sam but struck out there too. Not only is the inn booked solid but so are all the motels in the area."
Sam shrugged it off. "I'm used to sleeping in the Impala. That's what we generally do when we're on the road."
"You could camp out in our room?" Chloe offered hesitantly, slanting a glance at Dean.
Sam didn't need Dean's horrified stare to slam that suggestion down. "I'll be fine. Not having Dean's snores will be a welcome change."
"Dude, I don't snore," Dean protested. He turned to Chloe. "Do I?"
"I wouldn't call it snoring," she said. "More like little grunts. They're endearing."
Chloe was sitting next to Dean. They hadn't seen each other in a month, and it showed. Sam thought about flicking a popcorn kernel in Dean's direction but in the interest of true love decided to hold off. They'd eventually come up for air on their own.
"Mozzie and Janet arrived yesterday," Chloe said. "She and I spent the day checking out trails for tomorrow's field trips. Mozzie explored some of the caves in the forest. I didn't realize there were so many." She paused, her brow furrowing. "Have you ever investigated slime?"
"What kind of slime?" Dean demanded. "Demonic? Werewolf-foaming-at-the-mouth drool?"
"Neither. Extraterrestrial. Mozzie believes space aliens used it to encode messages. He's been investigating the tunnels underneath Columbia University. He thinks he's found additional evidence at Jenny Jump."
Dean grinned. "Neal mentioned in Buttonwood that space aliens were one of Mozzie's obsessions. This puts a new spin on it. Didn't X-Files have something about alien residue?"
"Black oil is what you're thinking of," Sam said. "Thanks for the warning, Chloe. If we're slimed, we'll know who to call."
"Anytime," she said, chuckling. "You may see some other faces you recognize—Peter and Neal. Peter brought his wife Elizabeth along. I spotted them having dinner in the restaurant."
Sam took a swig of beer. "What are they doing here? Mozzie I can understand. He probably has delusions of becoming a warlock, but Neal and Peter? They don't fit the standard Wicca profile."
"Janet told me that Peter's leading an astronomy camp for kids in the park. Neal and Mozzie are helping out."
Dean passed the popcorn bowl to Chloe. "Peter looks like the sort of geek who'd be into stargazing. How'd he rope Neal in to help?"
"Janet said it's a Father's Day gift for Peter. Since Neal's dad is out of the picture, Peter's been filling in."
"What's the deal with Neal's father?" Dean asked.
"I think they're estranged. Mozzie hasn't told Janet much. She suspects he deserted the family. The last time Neal saw his father was when he was three."
Sam remembered that Neal had given him a strange look when Sam mentioned hunting was in his blood. He didn't know if it was because of hunting or because Neal didn't like the idea of what was in his own blood. That would explain it.
"Did you find out anything more about what's supposed to be happening here?" Chloe asked.
"Bobby's still researching it," Dean said. "Have you heard of anything unusual?"
"No, but I'm amazed at how popular Wicca is. This bodes well for my upcoming novel. Wicca's trending on college campuses. My coven, the Alyssum Sisterhood, was formed at Yale. I think all the sisters are coming. I heard Wellesley also has a coven. They call themselves the Pompadours and will be here as well."
"Pompadours, huh? That's a weird name for a coven," Dean commented.
"I thought so too," Chloe said. "Supposedly they named themselves after a dessert that's popular at Wellesley."
"Sweet college chicks, dude." Dean nudged Sam. "Just your type."
Sam ignored him. Lately, Dean had been on a campaign to hook him up with someone. The more Dean pushed, the more Sam resisted. It had become a game to see who would cave first.
"An authority on Wicca is flying in from the U.K. Her name is Gemma Blackthorne. She'll give a talk on Tuesday at noon and lead the bonfire ceremony that night. Many of the festival participants are camping in the park. We have events scheduled both Monday and Tuesday—nature walks, rites of passage, meditations"—she shrugged with a mischievous grin—"the usual pagan activities."
"What will happen at the bonfire ceremony?" Sam asked.
"There's a procession to light the bonfire. A few of the sisters have written poems. I heard some minstrels will be there. Prayers, songs, dances around the bonfire. Drinking and toasting will no doubt be prominently featured."
Dean made a face. "If it weren't for Bobby's warning, I'd get the hell out of here."
"Is that so?" Chloe gave Dean a sultry look that made Sam feel singed from the backdraft. "Litha is the Fire Festival. Are you telling me you wouldn't stay around to light my fire?"
"Do I need to throw water on you two?" Sam complained. "Put a lid on it till you get to your room. Before I leave, we should swing by the dining room to say hi to Peter and Neal."
Dean looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, right. 'Cause Peter will be so pleased to have us crash his Father's Day party."
#
This had been a Father's Day to remember. Peter gazed around the table in contentment as the waitress cleared away their plates. Neal's toast had brought a lump to his throat. During dinner, they'd reminisced about last year's celebration. No ties for this Father's Day, but Neal and El came prepared with matching constellation socks for the three of them. Neal even let Peter tease him that Ursa Minor, the baby bear constellation, was prominently displayed on the socks.
"The socks also have Perseus," Neal pointed out. "And as I'm sure you recall, you told me Perseus was my constellation, not Ursa Minor. I gave the socks a pass, but there will be no talk of baby bears at astro camp."
Peter made a show of pondering the request. "I'm willing to concede it might destroy your position of leadership with the campers if they began calling you by the nickname your grandmother gave you. On the other hand, it could help you establish a rapport with the younger ones. It bears further thought."
El's growls at that remark were added to Neal's. Peter had observed that ever since Neal's girlfriend had broken off their relationship, El's Mama Bear attributes had risen to the surface.
"Just as I'm sure the campers would be highly entertained by you singing some of those memorable hits you performed in Buttonwood a couple of months ago," she countered pointedly, stifling any further thoughts of baby bear teasing. She turned to Neal. "Do you have a preference?"
"There were so many that Janet described in vivid detail, it's hard to pick a favorite. 'Rawhide' would be an excellent choice, but I think 'Happy Trails' is perfect for the last night of camp."
As Peter joined in the banter, he was glad that the supernatural events of that infamous weekend could merely be the subject of teasing. For a month he'd heard nothing about vampires, witches, or demons. Although there had been no reports of the escaped fugitive Curtis Hagen, he had reconciled himself to that being a good thing. According to the Winchesters, Hagen was now possessed by the demon Crowley and beyond the power of the Bureau to bring to justice.
Neal and El had spent much of the drive dreaming up activities for the younger kids. With plenty of help for camp and no demons to worry about, this was one vacation he expected to enjoy.
"Mozzie showed me the cave he found," Neal said. "It's not far from the observatory. The entrance is hidden by dense undergrowth and I can see why he was excited. It made me think of a pirates' cave."
"I've heard there are several small caves in the forest," El said, handing Peter the dessert menu. "Did you see the slime?"
Neal nodded. "It didn't look like alien drool to me. The cave itself goes back about twenty feet. It even has some pocket crevices that could be used to store pirates' loot." He turned to Peter. "There's probably also good bear potential."
"Or snakes," Peter added.
"Are there poisonous snakes in the park?" El asked.
He nodded. "Timber rattlesnakes use caves as hibernation dens, but they probably won't be found there in the summer. In any case, they're quite rare now. I doubt you'll see any rattlesnakes, but there are many harmless snakes in the forest."
"Bears, snakes . . . No camp should be without them," Neal said with a smile. He glanced around the room and his smile broadened. "And that may not be all."
What was he talking about? Peter turned his head to see what had caught Neal's eye and his heart dropped to the floor. Not them. Not this week. Hadn't he just been thinking how lucky he was? Weren't sixty-five kids enough of a curse for anyone?
El placed a hand on his arm. "What is it, hon?"
"Dean and Sam Winchester are here with their friend, Chloe."
"Their presence is no reason to panic," Neal admonished, standing up to wave them over. "Don't assume vampires and witches are lurking in the bushes. You mentioned Chloe was attending the festival. They probably dropped in to visit her."
El reacted with enthusiasm. "You mean I'll finally be able to meet the famous Winchesters? I can thank them personally for saving both your lives." Peter had reluctantly told her about their ordeal in the witch-house in Connecticut. It had required Neal's help to convince her he wasn't making it up, but afterward it had an unexpected benefit. El no longer stressed as much about their run-of-the-mill criminals. She'd declared as long the bad guys weren't witches or vampires, she'd take them all in stride.
Dean and Sam didn't seem particularly anxious to hang around either, but after a round of introductions, El insisted they join them for dessert.
"We shouldn't intrude on your celebration," Sam objected, earning Peter's gratitude.
"Nonsense," Neal said. "I'm told the inn's peach pie is outstanding."
Dean began to waver and when El mentioned the homemade ice cream that came with it, he was the first one to agree. When the waitress brought extra chairs over, Peter made sure Dean sat next to him. The kid was a smartass, but he didn't beat around the bush. He'd be the one most likely to give him a straight answer. Peter held off the interrogation for the first few minutes. El was clearly delighted to meet the people she'd heard so much about. When she began questioning Chloe about her novels, Peter seized the opportunity.
"Vampires or witches?" he asked in an undertone, leaning close to Dean so as not to be overheard. "How bad is it?"
Dean tried to shrug it off. "Hey, can't a fellow just visit his girl?"
"You don't fool me for a minute."
"What are you two whispering about?" El asked, giving him a reproachful look. "Anything you want to discuss the entire table should hear." She turned to Sam. "Are you hunting?" Sam glanced nervously at Neal, obviously looking for help, but before he could say anything, El added, "Chloe agrees with me. No secrets." She crossed her arms. "Who wants to start? Something tells me you're not in town to take part in wildflower field trips."
Well put, hon, Peter seconded. That was just what I was going to say.
"We're not sure." Peter could feel the worry lines form on his forehead at Sam's words. "A friend alerted us that something might be happening at a Litha festival in the Northeast. He's heard a term—anistemi—but he doesn't know what it means. We asked Chloe to check around and this is the only Litha festival in the region."
"You must know something," Peter objected.
Dean swallowed a bite of peach pie and set down his fork. "Yeah, we do. You asked which it was, and it's vampires. The report came from a vamp and supposedly they're on the move in this direction."
"Should we call off camp?" Peter asked. "The kids are staying at the Boy Scout facility outside of Hope and will be bused in for the events. I'm not so concerned about the workshops. They'll be held in the morning, but we have evening stargazing sessions scheduled Monday through Wednesday. And it's not just the kids we have to worry about. This is the park's peak season. All the campsites are booked as well. Should we shut the park down?"
Dean made an impatient gesture. "We're talking vamps, not zombies. I've never heard of marauding hordes of vamps making mass attacks. That's not their style."
"Vampires hunt in small groups," Sam clarified. "They prize their secrecy. They might target one person in a lonely campsite just like they'd attack a woman walking alone in a dark alleyway, but groups should be fine. And the information is so sketchy, I don't see how you could close the park over it. The festival activities are being held both in town and in the park. If vampires are planning something, it could be at either location. It's simply not practical to close down the entire town over what may only be a rumor."
"We're working with our contacts to find out more about this anistemi," Dean added. "We'll keep you informed. Are you staying at the inn?"
"El and I are. Neal's bunking in the observatory. Are you staying at the motel on the outskirts of town?"
"I tried there," Chloe said, "but it's booked. Dean's staying with me, but I'd like to find a place for Sam."
Sam shook his head. "Not necessary—"
"—I know of a place," Neal interrupted. "There's no charge. It's got good food, a fridge stocked with beer, and indoor plumbing."
Sam eyed him warily. "What's the catch?"
"You're staying here for a few days. You can't be hunting all the time. You'd probably like to take a break and play a few games with the kids."
"That's a great idea," Peter seconded. "We could use extra help for the morning activities. Only a half-hour or so?"
Sam shrugged. "A half-hour? If something doesn't come up, we should be able to manage that. Right, Dean?"
Dean frowned. "You gotta be kidding. Kids and me, we don't mix."
"Actually, you're quite good," Sam said cheerfully, ignoring the dagger looks Dean was throwing him.
Dean continued to object, and Peter figured their chances were nil until Neal played his trump card. "I plan to teach them about knives."
Suddenly Dean was more intrigued. "Machetes?" he asked hopefully.
"Close. Sabres."