Chapter 4: Crossed Signals

Neal had no difficulty in falling asleep despite the ghost stories Sam told. The one about someone called Bloody Mary was particularly incredible. Neal hadn't considered spirits could be real until he met the Winchesters. He wondered if his world seemed equally alien to them.

Peter arrived at seven the next morning while he was having breakfast. Peter was already in a state of high anxiety about the incoming horde of campers. They were due to be bused in at nine. Peter grabbed Travis and Mozzie to discuss the schedule for the morning while Neal and Sam took a walk outside to become familiar with the layout.

Dean called Sam shortly before the kids arrived with an update from Bobby. The other hunters in the area hadn't found any evidence of activity so until they had more to go on, there wasn't much Dean and Sam could do except keep themselves available. That meant plenty of time to help out with camp.

There were sixty-five kids, ranging in age from six to sixteen. The workshops were divided into three sections with Peter in charge of the most advanced ones, Travis handling the intermediates, and Mozzie the beginners. Neal and Sam were floaters. They along with Dean would handle the midmorning break, freeing the others to prepare for the second round of workshops.

Neal and Sam were getting out equipment when the Impala pulled up in front of the observatory. Dean took one look at them in their astro camp t-shirts and laughed in their faces. That is, until Sam tossed him one to put on

"Not happening," Dean scoffed. "Dude, I don't wear patterned t-shirts."

"It's a small gesture for the expert IDs you're getting," Neal countered. "Do you know how much they're worth on the black market?"

"Are those your handiwork?" he asked.

"Hypothetically speaking, it's conceivable Mozzie may have called upon an expert for assistance." Dean and Sam knew next to nothing about Neal's less-than-legal skills and he didn't mind cracking the door open. From the appraising look he got from Dean, he was glad he had. They had more in common than Dean realized.

"I have my shirt on," Sam pointed out. "Even Satchmo's wearing an astronomy kerchief. It won't kill you. Besides, I like the message. It's a good one for us."

The t-shirts were black with the silhouette of a person against a field of stars. The message was Life is looking up. Peter had selected the design. They worked well for adults, and everyone could benefit from an upbeat attitude.

"You should be grateful we're not asking you to wear space antennae like the ones Mozzie has on," Neal added.

"You're joking, right?" Dean turned to Sam for confirmation.

Sam shook his head, grinning. "He's had them on all morning."

Neal adopted Peter's lay-down-the-law tone. "Here's the drill. In five minutes, the kids will be turned loose. Our objective is to wear them out so they'll sit quietly for the next session." He led them over to a grassy area next to the main building. "We're dividing them into two groups based on age. I brought along foam fencing swords and masks to hold a mini-fencing camp and we also have space activities."

"So you weren't conning us about the blades?" Dean asked.

"Nope, I'm on a university team."

Dean dismissed Neal's fencing experience with a shrug. "You wear padded clothes, your swords have protective tips, and you use facemasks."

"Exactly. It's a sport, not carnage. I realize that's not your style."

Sam was looking through a list of activities while the two of them debated. "Here's one for you, Dean," he said. "Asteroid smash."

"What's that?"

"It sounds like dodgeball to me. Kids hurling balls at each other."

Dean grinned. "Sign me up."

Neal folded his arms. "Then you better put that t-shirt on. No shirt, no asteroid smash."

Dean relented just before the kids poured out of the building.

#

Asteroid smash turned out to go exactly as Sam expected. At the end of the break, they'd been forced to wrestle the ball away from Dean. Camp was a galaxy away from their normal world, and both he and Dean loved it.

Sam had helped Neal teach fencing. One little boy named Ethan had clearly taken lessons. He appeared to idolize Neal. Neal had brought along his sabre to demonstrate some of the techniques to the kids. Afterward, he put it away and used a foam sword like everyone else. Travis came out to help with the break activities and led the opposing team in asteroid smash.

Afterward, Dean and Travis took the kids inside to watch a video while Sam and Neal collected the equipment.

"Would you like to come back tonight for the stargazing session?" Neal asked. "Peter's designated Mozzie and me to work with the beginners. We'll point out some of the constellations and create new ones. The kids can imagine they're seeing sports figures or superheroes in the sky."

"Or a rock musician or two? Could be fun. If we're free, we'll help. Dean and I have done our share of stargazing. We often sleep in the car along a highway on the way to a job. I did some stargazing when I was a kid." Sam stopped. No need to dredge up the past. Maybe it had been their discussion about fathers last night or being around so many kids. It reminded him of how lonely he'd been as a child when his dad left him to go on a hunt.

"I never learned about the stars," Neal said, stacking the foam swords in a box. "I skipped the Boy Scout experience."

"No merit badges?"

"Hardly. This is Peter's hobby, not mine."

Sam picked up the last of the balls, forcing back a yawn. He'd been concerned the others wouldn't sleep after his stories. Instead, he was the one feeling wrecked. He was glad he'd opted for fencing. Asteroid smash would have finished him off.

That dream about the woman behind the veil hadn't helped. He hadn't thought about her for weeks then a few nights ago she reappeared. Last night the dream was more intense than ever before. Wasn't he supposed to feel exhilarated afterward, not wasted?

"Hey, Neal, do you still dream of the woman you told me about in Connecticut?"

"My Mozart babe? Funny you ask. I did a couple of nights ago. It was the first time in quite a while. She's blonde like my ex-girlfriend. I figured I was missing her. How about you? Any visits from the woman in the veil?"

"Once in a while," he admitted.

"Did you ever mention it to Dean?"

"No, last year I freaked him out when I was having premonitions of murders. Dreaming about a chick is a major improvement. I remember you mentioning your girlfriend. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

Neal shrugged and picked up the box of swords. "Our lives were too different. It was probably inevitable."

"You sound like me. Our jobs don't lend themselves to long-term relationships. Dean's on my case to hook up with someone, but there doesn't seem to be much point . . . besides the obvious one. We never stay around long enough for anything to develop. I envy what he has with Chloe. She's a wanderer like us. Doesn't put any demands on him. When they're together, it's great. They don't seem to mind not knowing when they'll see each other again." Dean could be right. He should at least take a stab at making a connection. That was probably all he needed to make the dreams stop.

When they went inside, the kids were still watching the video. Neal and Sam joined the adults in the radio room for cold drinks. Mozzie was there as well, although his bobbing space bug antennae made it questionable if he could be classified as an adult.

"How'd it go?" Peter asked, passing out sodas.

"We've made plans for an even larger asteroid belt tomorrow," Dean said, looking pleased. "More impacts, a few comets hurtling through. It's gonna get ugly."

Travis smiled. "I like your style. Space is not for wimps." His cell phone vibrated. When he glanced at the display, his expression grew thoughtful. "It's Daniel Leavitt from the university."

"He's the one who organized the camp," Peter explained. "He's on the astronomy faculty at Columbia and head of the East Coast branch of SETI."

"He's also an authority on radio astronomy, a field I've also studied," Mozzie added. He proceeded to expound on something called fractals and how they related to bees harboring alien intelligence. By the time he stopped to take a breath, Dean was staring at him cross-eyed. In the meantime, Travis had retreated into the telescope supply room, probably to get some quiet for his call.

When he returned to the office, he stood frozen like a statue for a moment as a smile slowly spread over his face.

Mozzie's mouth dropped. "What is it? Could it be . . .?"

Travis nodded.

Mozzie's face went white and he collapsed back into his chair.

"Will someone explain what the hell's going on?" Dean demanded impatiently.

Travis sat down and took a deep breath. "Daniel was alerted from SETI headquarters at Berkeley that anomalous radio waves have been detected from a region of space in the constellation Draco. A discrete point is emitting the radiation. It's roughly 12.4 light-years away."

"That doesn't sound too unusual," Peter commented, looking puzzled.

"If it were stationary, I'd agree, but the object appears to be moving toward us and at an unprecedented rate of speed. Berkeley's already brought in NASA to help them track it."

The magnitude of the discovery left Mozzie incapable of anything but gulping sounds for several seconds. "They're coming," he whispered, his eyes as large as the antenna balls on his headgear.

Travis shook his head vehemently. "No one's calling this an invasion."

The E.T. lover put a finger to his lips. "A wise precaution. We don't want to start a global panic."

The rest of them were not ready to embrace Mozzie's prediction of a close encounter of the third kind but focused on what was known about the signal.

"Isn't Draco the dragon constellation?" Dean asked.

"That's right," Neal confirmed. It's wrapped around Ursa Minor and overhead in the night sky right now. I'd planned to talk about it tonight during stargazing. I never could resist a dragon . . . or a nightgaunt."

Peter chuckled. "Neal, the dragon-rider. Figures you'd focus on it rather than its neighbor."

Nightgaunts? Sam remembered reading about them in a work by the horror writer H.P. Lovecraft. Did Neal and Peter have more experience with supernatural creatures than he'd realized or was this a private joke? His first opportunity he planned to ask, but Travis's disclosure was front and center.

"SETI is conferring with experts and seeking corroboration," Travis said. "We have no comparable transmission records. It's much too early to diagnose what the radiation is, but it's the most promising report we've ever received. Leavitt's working at Columbia. Fortunately, I brought my personal laptop so I have the necessary programs with me."

Mozzie turned to Dean. "You're investigating reports of an anistemi. Could this be it? The first sign of an alien invasion?"

Dean shot down the idea. "The reports we've heard have come from vampires. We have nothing—and I'm talking the big goose egg—to link space aliens with vampires."

"That's irrelevant," Mozzie persisted. "What do you know about the origin of vampires? Assuming they're supernatural without explaining how they derived their power is illogical. When you think about it, an extraterrestrial origin is the only rational explanation for vampires among us."

Mozzie could be right. Sam had never read how vampires came to be. Vampires from outer space made as much sense as anything else. He made a mental note to bring it up with Bobby.

#

"Sun ritual or Litha peach?" The young waitress, clad in a blue gown and a witch's hat, waited patiently for Elizabeth to make up her mind.

El hadn't realized there were so many varieties of pagan herbal teas. She looked to Janet and Chloe for help.

"Go with the Litha peach," Chloe advised. "I had it yesterday, and you'll love it."

The men hadn't arrived by the time they returned from their morning field trip. El called Peter and told him to meet them at the Sabbat Tea Room on Main Street. He mentioned that Neal and the Winchesters would join them, but Travis and Mozzie were staying at the observatory. Some SETI emergency. Janet wasn't surprised at the news. She must have built up quite a tolerance for Mozzie's many obsessions. What Janet had to put up with made El more than ever grateful for Peter's rock-solid reliability.

The town had transformed itself into a Wicca wonderland in honor of the Litha festival. Many of the stores had even renamed their establishments for the occasion. Where they were eating was normally called the Buttercup Tea Room. Janet had picked it because it had an outside patio where they could people watch. Peter might not be thrilled with the tea breads and organic salads they served, but as a surveillance location, it couldn't be better. The women had gone early to stake their claim to a large table near the sidewalk.

As El gazed at the crowd strolling along Main Street, she wondered how they'd be able to spot someone suspicious when everyone looked unusual. Visitors, townspeople, and vendors alike wore peasant or vaguely medieval attire. It reminded her of a Renaissance fair. She and Janet had stopped by the inn to change clothes before lunch. They were now wearing broomstick skirts and peasant blouses. All she needed was love beads, and several shops were ready to supply her with the Wicca version—pagan prayer beads. What would her Methodist parents say if they saw her wearing them?

Chloe had stayed in her same look of peasant tunic top with skintight jeans and boots. This was El's first opportunity to spend much time with her. She was almost as tall as Dean. Peter called Dean and Sam hunters. Chloe looked like she belonged with them.

The huntress stood up and waved to someone in the crowd. El turned around to see Peter, Neal, and the Winchesters enter the patio area.

Dean was surveying the place uneasily as he sat down. "They do serve beer here, right?"

"No such luck," Chloe said. "But there's a beer garden down the way we can hit later."

"Cheeseburgers?"

Sam was studying the menu. "Close. There's something called Sunrise Renewal Burger made with lentils."

Dean stood up. "I'm outta here."

"No, you're not," Chloe said, pulling him back down.

She whispered something in his ear and he grinned. "I can put up with it for one meal," he said afterward.

They decided over lunch that after perusing the shops, Dean and Peter would talk with the local police. Sam planned to return to the observatory to work with Mozzie and Travis. El was amazed that he was taking the SETI report so seriously. But then, if one routinely dealt with vampires and witches, perhaps it wasn't that much of a stretch. From what Peter had told her, she'd led a sheltered life. She intended to change that. She'd never taken Mozzie's conspiracy theories seriously, but El blamed herself for being too dismissive. If witches and vampires were real, she should accept the possibility of space aliens.

When they left the tea room, El asked Chloe for a recommendation for an introductory book about Wicca.

"The Elysian Bookstore has set up a booth inside the antique store just down the street," Chloe said. "They have an excellent selection. I was planning to stop there anyway."

"I've ordered books from them," Neal added. "They're one of the main sources for art books on the East Coast."

"I hope to have a book signing there someday," Chloe admitted. "I got to meet the owner at my coven meeting there last month. She allows us to use a room at the bookstore."

"We should talk with her," Sam told Dean. "She may know something about the anistemi."

The group decided to go to the store together.

The bookstore had been allocated two long tables in the front of the store. It was a smart strategy for the antique store, as once visitors were inside, they usually stayed to browse through the antique crystal, china, and furniture that made up the bulk of the store's offerings.

Two women stood behind the tables, each wearing a name tag emblazoned with the bookstore's logo. They were both blonde. The older woman appeared to be roughly El's age. She guessed the younger one was several years younger.

Chloe walked up to the older woman. "I've told them about your wonderful store. All, this is Electra Stavrou, the owner."

"Thank you, Chloe. You're too kind." El was struck by Electra's voice. It was deep and sophisticated with a slight hint of an accent El couldn't place. Perhaps British? Electra introduced them to her sister Maia, a graduate student at Yale University.

Dean began questioning the women about the Litha festival. "Maia knows more about it than I do," Electra said. "There's a small coven at Yale who asked me to increase our supply of books on Wicca among our occult offerings."

"A friend introduced me to the Alyssum Coven," Maia added. "I went to a meeting on a lark. I didn't know what to expect, but had vague notions they might wear togas and light candles. Instead I discovered their focus is on ancient pagan practices and I became quite interested in the mythology. That's not a surprise, I suppose, since my field is the Classics. There are some parallels with ancient Greek culture."

"Have you heard the term anistemi?" Sam asked.

She nodded. "Anistemi is a Greek word. It means to rise or stand up. Why do you ask?"

"A friend mentioned it in connection with the Litha festival," Dean said.

While Dean and Sam continued to talk with the sisters, Chloe helped El and Janet pick out introductory books on Wicca. Peter was already fidgety. El knew she was on borrowed time. He'd soon insist on stepping outside. Peter's tolerance for shopping was near zero. Normally she could count on Neal for support, but his thoughts appeared elsewhere too.

Once they'd made their selections, Janet announced, "I'm leaving for the observatory and the latest on the extraterrestrials heading our way." El noticed Electra's eyes widen at her comment.

"I'll catch a ride back with Janet," Neal said. "My paints are calling to me. There's a wildflower meadow nearby, and an afternoon of painting awaits."

"You'll be our Claude Monet," El said. "I can't wait to see the results."

"You're an artist?" Electra asked, looking intrigued. "We must talk more sometime."

When Neal headed for the door, Electra stopped him at the entrance and handed him her business card. Her voice was too low for El to catch anything but a few words. They seemed to be discussing his art.

"Anything wrong?" Peter asked in a low voice.

"Neal better watch it," El murmured. "He's made a conquest with Electra. I hear the purr of a cougar."

#

Chloe had introduced Dean to more Wiccans than he'd ever cared to meet. The chick had a knack for becoming friends with everyone. One flowery woman named Wisteria Brigham ran the inn where Chloe was living in New Haven. Wisteria was the head of the Alyssum Sisterhood and talked his head off for twenty minutes about the wonders of Wicca, the delightfulness of Chloe—something he'd agreed with—and the charms of New Haven. She also insisted on introducing her sister Peony, a woman cast in the same mold.

Both women were British transplants and had been active in Wicca in Devon. They were both gaga over the featured speaker Gemma Blackthorne. She was a British scholar and supposedly an authority on Wicca. Dean wasn't thrilled at the thought of having to chat up yet another witch wannabe. He hoped to persuade Sam to tackle the chore.

"You must visit me next time you're in New Haven," Wisteria gushed. "You are coming, aren't you?"

"Wisteria has the most marvelous cook," Chloe added. "Best pie I've ever had."

"You're saying the magic words." Dean forced a smile for Chloe's sake. She seemed fond of the woman, even though Dean feared he'd suffocate from lavender asphyxiation.

"And next time you're in New York, you should pop by my B&B," Peony added. "I call it Peony's B's. It's on the Upper West Side close to Riverside Park. We gather for cocktails every evening. Our coven meets for poetry reading and scones on Wednesday evenings."

"Peony's a member of the Silver Cauldron," Wisteria explained. Dean wondered if Mozzie had heard of them. He appeared to have a direct line on everything weird going on in New York City. Did that extend to the occult?

"We focus on the study of herbs and potions to achieve a higher spirituality," Peony added with a smile that made Dean think of hot blackberry cobbler. What were her scones like?

"My sister has studied herbs and potions for years," Wisteria told Chloe. "She's turned the roof of her inn into an herb garden and greenhouse."

It wasn't easy to pry Chloe loose from Peony once she heard about her expertise with herbs, but Dean finally succeeded. He'd quickly lost interest after discovering they knew nothing about an anistemi.

He and Peter would go to the police this afternoon. Dean was more than willing to let Peter handle the delicate task of inquiring about any attacks that smacked of vampires. The town was too small to have a police department. A unit of the state police oversaw operations in the nearby town of Totowa.

"Will you be back for dinner?" Chloe asked.

"That depends on what we find out. Sam and I are meeting with Bobby afterward. Late drinks at the tavern?"

"Count on it."

It was too bad Sam hadn't hung around. Chloe was right. The town was filled with college chicks. Something was seriously wrong with the dude that he preferred hanging out with geeks. It was up to his big brother to set him straight. "Maia appeared interested in Sam. What do you think?"

Chloe gave him a mischievous look. "You noticed that too. I saw how her eyes lit up."

"How well do you know her?"

"I met her through the coven. We chatted during the social hour and hit it off. She struck me as being a little lonely. She's taken me around to some of the local shops." Chloe paused to consider for a moment. "She's on the quiet side. Sam would probably like that."

"Do you know if she's seeing anyone?"

"I don't think so. She commented that her studies weren't leaving much time for a social life. Would you like me to invite her to join us?"

"Yeah, she's the studious type, just like Sam. They can do research together."

"I bet their research won't be as fun as ours," Chloe said with a sly grin.

"You have a dirty mind," Dean murmured in her ear.

"Only for you, Ravensword."

#

Neal checked in with Mozzie and Travis when they returned to the observatory. The radio signals were continuing on the same trajectory, but there wasn't anything Neal could do about a possible space invasion. Sam, on the other hand, happily pulled up a chair to join them. Janet planned to spend the afternoon sketching designs for a new fashion show.

When Peter first mentioned the idea of camp, the suggestion to paint outside was the hook that excited Neal the most. Up to now, he'd rarely had the opportunity. He'd brought along a wide-brimmed straw hat to help channel his inner Monet. The wildflower meadow he'd discovered was only a few hundred yards away.

Neal slapped the straw hat on his head, called Satchmo, and the two of them headed out in Travis's car. Monet had painted the poppy fields at Argenteuil. He'd depict the wildflower meadow at Jenny Jump State Forest.

He pulled into a parking space near a large maple at the edge of the meadow. The tree would provide some shade from the bright midday sun. Satchmo spent the first several minutes chasing small yellow butterflies before plopping down in the middle of a patch of pale pink wildflowers. Neal made a note to ask Janet what they were. Soon Satchmo was twitching his paws as he reveled in doggie dreams. He made the perfect subject.

Neal considered painting him with a butterfly on his nose but decided against it. He was aiming for a Monet vibe, not Winslow Homer.

Humming "Yellow" under his breath, he squeezed paints onto his palette. There was no one around. It was a serenity he seldom experienced. Mozzie's Thoreau moments began to make more sense.

Notes: The story that Sam related about Bloody Mary happened in a Season 1 episode of Supernatural. He and Dean are quite familiar with deities who hide their true nature by masquerading as ordinary folks. In this series, Electra, Maia, and Gemma relish their ability to walk freely among us mere mortals. That's my topic for this week's blog post: "Folks Like Us."