Chapter 4 Alton Illinois
Chapter 4 Alton Illinois Mid May…
Then, one day in mid-May – two and a half months after the accident - everything changed. It all started with Pamela and Chester stopping over for lunch. The three of us sat out on the porch, which by now had become my favorite place to be. The massive old structure, painted bright white, was dotted with soft yellow wicker furniture and a suspended swing. It also contained two multicolored Adirondack chairs, several small tables and various potted plants in Native American planters, including several large potted oleander trees. I loved to sit out on the old porch and enjoy the serenity of this scene. It was Aunt Claire’s pride and joy. I had helped Auntie prepare sandwiches for the event because I so looked forward to their visits. I sat in one of the multicolored Adirondack chairs - each of the wooden slats were painted a different bright color - and Chester, as usual, sat in the wicker chair that had an oversized arm on which he would balance his plate. Pamela, dressed in a white and navy horizontally-striped top and very short white shorts that showed off her perfect legs, lounged on her favorite, the swing. These were our usual positions. The sun warmed me and I temporarily forgot about the painful turn my life had taken a few short months ago. Pamela kicked off her sandals, pulled her legs up under her and winked in my direction. I knew Chester was about to suffer from her unique sense of humor. Chester was the sweetest guy.
He was just slightly taller than Pamela’s five and a half feet and had this hair which was shades of brown with black. He was also in great shape and worked out a lot. Pamela and Chet had an unusual relationship; they were like brother and sister. She just loved embarrassing him though, which was hard to do because he was so easy going. “Chet,’ she started out. “What was that call you went on yesterday?” She had purposely waited until he bit into his ham sandwich. I found it hard to believe he hadn’t caught onto Pamela’s tricks of trying to get him riled. Chester held up a hand to signify he was chewing as he attempted to hurriedly swallow the mouthful of food. “Another of those strange animal stories,” he finally said. “You know, the ones we’ve been getting inundated with since the flood.” “What strange animals?” I asked, slightly intrigued. I thought I recalled some headline in the paper about it, but I had probably chosen to ignore that story. “I went out to this guy’s house south of town,” Chester looked at me while he talked between bites and swallows. “His name’s Lenny Webster. Pamela and I know him from high school.” Pamela winked a green eye over at me again while Chester continued to feast. Chester had a special relationship with food. Once he had his portion he would focus all of his attention on eating. You could talk to him, and he’d answer, but his eyes usually never left his plate. “Lenny’s as squirrely as they come,” Pamela interjected, “I don’t know why you listen to that guy.” Chester ignored her observation; his eyes fixated on his sandwich.
“Tell me more about what they saw,” I asked. Chester nodded repeatedly to me and continued. “Lenny told me that he and his partner, Carl, saw this large creature with a mouth full of teeth. Sharp ones. Claimed it was at least six feet long and had the biggest eyes. He said they were hunting and just about to walk around a large rock when its head popped up over the top of it.” I thought it amazing that Chester talked without looking up. “They probably saw a chipmunk,” Pamela smirked. “Lenny used to always exaggerate everything in school.” I ignored her because my interest was piqued. “I asked what they did then,” Chester continued after a slug of iced tea. He held up his glass, finally looked at us and said, “My next question was going to be, ‘Were you two drinking?’” “That’s like asking, ‘Are you breathing?’ to a normal person,” Pamela nodded at me. “Those two always have been lushes.” I could tell Pamela was already bored with the story, but I wanted to hear more. “According to Lenny,” Chester continued. “Carl pointed his rifle at it, but the creature raised this thing up on the top of its head; said it looked like a rack or something’. Well, that movement scared the two of them and they turned to run. When they heard a clatter on the rocks, they looked and whatever it was, was heading through the brush, down toward the river.” “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you two making this up? Chester, is this all to make fun of me being so naive? I know I’m gullible but—”
“No,” Chester said. “I filed this in a report, it’s a matter of public record.” He said that so seriously, I knew it had to be true. “I wouldn’t let him make fun of you, Sara,” Pamela said and looked over at Chester. “What did the two great hunters do then? Wet their pants?” “I asked if they followed the thing and Lenny said, ‘And get eaten? No thanks.’ So I again asked the 64 million dollar question, ‘You boys drink your lunch?’” His sandwich now gone, Chester leaned back in his chair, smiled at the two of us and began stuffing chips in his mouth. Pamela was smirking. I couldn’t tell if she was doing so at Chester or his tale. “Pamela.” I said. “This is not funny. Someone could have gotten hurt. Continue, Chester.” When I looked to Chester he was grinning. “Lenny said, ‘No sir, officer. We saw what we saw and we were sober.’” Chester finally noticed Pamela’s smirk and appeared to catch on to her trick. He threw a chip at a grinning Pamela, then continued his tale while focused on me. “So, I asked them to better describe it for me, tell me what it looked like, compare it to something,” Chester paused and shook his head at a chuckling Pamela, then continued. “Lenny said, ‘It was about a foot wide at the widest part, had lots of teeth, and a raised area on the top of its head like a crocodile. Hey, maybe that’s what it was.’” “What a crock,” Pamela said, then laughed at her choice of word. Chester continued unfazed. “I asked Lenny, ‘How would a croc get to Alton, Illinois?’
“That’s easy,” Pamela interrupted. “Same way a bull shark did back in the 30s.” “There are sharks in the river?” I asked. Unbelievable. Maybe I am naive. “A shark,” Pamela answered. “As in one. It was caught in 1937 by two local fishermen. It was assumed that it swam up the Mississippi from the Gulf. That was back before they constructed dams downriver. That’s a story for another time though. Continue Chester, what did Len say about how a croc could get to Alton?” Chester shook his head and resumed. “Actually it was Carl. He said, ‘We didn’t see this thing in Alton.’ Well, that did it. You’re right, I should have known those two were wasting my time. I shut my report book, looked at them and asked where they actually saw it. ‘By those new bluffs around the bridge at Littles Island,’ Len said.” “You see!” Pamela, eyes ablaze, said to Chester. “That’s why you should never go on one of those calls without me. I’ve always told you those two loony bins should be locked up. Why were they bothering you with this?” I was lost here, didn’t know what Chester had done wrong. Pamela saw my questioning, dense look and, said, “That’s on the Missouri River, in Missouri. It’s a little out of our jurisdiction, Sara.” She looked back at Chester. “Did they have a reason for calling the Alton Illinois Police Department?” Chester scratched at his unshaven face. “They heard about all the missing cats and dogs in this area and—” “Missing cats and dogs?” I asked.
Chester nodded to me. “We’ve been getting a lot of calls and people claim there hasn’t been much to hunt across the river. There are normally a lot of rabbits and pheasants.” He turned to Pamela. “Anyway, they thought they were helping us out. I told them to call Russell Samuels and the Missouri Highway Patrol. His jurisdiction.” I knew that last little bit was for my benefit. “Darn straight,” Pamela said. “Russ will put those goofs in their place,” she snapped at him, then softened. “Maybe it was one of them big snakes like they got in the Everglades,” she pointed out with a smirk on her face, then threw a chip back at him. She just loved to needle poor Chester. They seemed to have such a fun relationship. Sharks in the Mississippi and big snakes in the Everglades were news to me, but they already thought I was clueless and sheltered, so I refused to ask them to explain. Instead, I asked, “Wasn’t that area covered by water during the flood back in April?” “Yeah,” Chester answered while nodding. “Halfway up the bluffs. When the water receded it left them high and dry.” “Maybe this thing came out of the bluffs,” I pointed out. “We’ve had an earthquake and the heavy rains and floods, why not? Maybe—“ “Have you been listening, Sara?” Pamela asked. “Those two jokesters are always seeing things. But Chet, who should know better, actually listens to them. Drives me bonkers.” “I’m sorry,” I said, and even though I wasn’t, I guess I looked hurt because Pamela instantly jumped off the swing and was kneeling by my chair.
“No, I’m sorry, Chet knows I’m just yanking’ his chain. You’re not used to my odd ways yet.” “I’m not upset. I love you just the way you are, Pamela,” I said. “You and Chester have made my last few weeks bearable—“ “Hey,” Pamela said as she ran her long tanned fingers through my hair. “Don’t get all mushy on me, I can’t handle that kind of stuff.” Then she hugged me. Pulling away, she said, “Just don’t give credence to Chester’s speculations. Do you want to ruin the only part of my job that’s fun?” “Well,” I said. “I think Chester’s onto something. What’s next?” At that moment Aunt Claire walked out onto the porch and began collecting plates. “Next, we’ve got to clean this place up,” Aunt Claire said as she walked about. “I‘ve got a special guest coming in from some big museum in Chicago and he’s been booked for a week or two. I can sure use the money. Thank the Lord for the earthquake. It seems to have opened up some caverns in the bluffs just to the north of town and he’s coming in to accompany Professor Moirés in exploring them.” “What for?” asked Pamela. “Professor Moirés thinks the caves might have something to do with the Piasa. He has an old friend at the Chicago museum who has agreed to fund an expedition. Heaven knows our museum couldn’t afford to pay for anything like that.” “Who’s Professor Moirés? What’s a Peeassa?” I asked.
“Professor Moirés is this great old guy who operates our tiny museum,” Pamela answered. “I’ll take you to meet him later and let him tell you about the Piasa. I don’t think I can do it without laughing. By the way, it’s pronounced pie-a-saw.” “Pamela, you are so bad.” Aunt Claire scolded. “You make light of all of our town’s old mysteries. But taking Sara over to introduce her to Winston is a good idea. He’s been asking to meet her. That’ll get you all out of my hair so I can tidy the place up and get the Cavern ready for this man coming down.”
Then, one day in mid-May – two and a half months after the accident - everything changed. It all started with Pamela and Chester stopping over for lunch. The three of us sat out on the porch, which by now had become my favorite place to be. The massive old structure, painted bright white, was dotted with soft yellow wicker furniture and a suspended swing. It also contained two multicolored Adirondack chairs, several small tables and various potted plants in Native American planters, including several large potted oleander trees. I loved to sit out on the old porch and enjoy the serenity of this scene. It was Aunt Claire’s pride and joy. I had helped Auntie prepare sandwiches for the event because I so looked forward to their visits. I sat in one of the multicolored Adirondack chairs - each of the wooden slats were painted a different bright color - and Chester, as usual, sat in the wicker chair that had an oversized arm on which he would balance his plate. Pamela, dressed in a white and navy horizontally-striped top and very short white shorts that showed off her perfect legs, lounged on her favorite, the swing. These were our usual positions. The sun warmed me and I temporarily forgot about the painful turn my life had taken a few short months ago. Pamela kicked off her sandals, pulled her legs up under her and winked in my direction. I knew Chester was about to suffer from her unique sense of humor. Chester was the sweetest guy.
He was just slightly taller than Pamela’s five and a half feet and had this hair which was shades of brown with black. He was also in great shape and worked out a lot. Pamela and Chet had an unusual relationship; they were like brother and sister. She just loved embarrassing him though, which was hard to do because he was so easy going. “Chet,’ she started out. “What was that call you went on yesterday?” She had purposely waited until he bit into his ham sandwich. I found it hard to believe he hadn’t caught onto Pamela’s tricks of trying to get him riled. Chester held up a hand to signify he was chewing as he attempted to hurriedly swallow the mouthful of food. “Another of those strange animal stories,” he finally said. “You know, the ones we’ve been getting inundated with since the flood.” “What strange animals?” I asked, slightly intrigued. I thought I recalled some headline in the paper about it, but I had probably chosen to ignore that story. “I went out to this guy’s house south of town,” Chester looked at me while he talked between bites and swallows. “His name’s Lenny Webster. Pamela and I know him from high school.” Pamela winked a green eye over at me again while Chester continued to feast. Chester had a special relationship with food. Once he had his portion he would focus all of his attention on eating. You could talk to him, and he’d answer, but his eyes usually never left his plate. “Lenny’s as squirrely as they come,” Pamela interjected, “I don’t know why you listen to that guy.” Chester ignored her observation; his eyes fixated on his sandwich.
“Tell me more about what they saw,” I asked. Chester nodded repeatedly to me and continued. “Lenny told me that he and his partner, Carl, saw this large creature with a mouth full of teeth. Sharp ones. Claimed it was at least six feet long and had the biggest eyes. He said they were hunting and just about to walk around a large rock when its head popped up over the top of it.” I thought it amazing that Chester talked without looking up. “They probably saw a chipmunk,” Pamela smirked. “Lenny used to always exaggerate everything in school.” I ignored her because my interest was piqued. “I asked what they did then,” Chester continued after a slug of iced tea. He held up his glass, finally looked at us and said, “My next question was going to be, ‘Were you two drinking?’” “That’s like asking, ‘Are you breathing?’ to a normal person,” Pamela nodded at me. “Those two always have been lushes.” I could tell Pamela was already bored with the story, but I wanted to hear more. “According to Lenny,” Chester continued. “Carl pointed his rifle at it, but the creature raised this thing up on the top of its head; said it looked like a rack or something’. Well, that movement scared the two of them and they turned to run. When they heard a clatter on the rocks, they looked and whatever it was, was heading through the brush, down toward the river.” “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you two making this up? Chester, is this all to make fun of me being so naive? I know I’m gullible but—”
“No,” Chester said. “I filed this in a report, it’s a matter of public record.” He said that so seriously, I knew it had to be true. “I wouldn’t let him make fun of you, Sara,” Pamela said and looked over at Chester. “What did the two great hunters do then? Wet their pants?” “I asked if they followed the thing and Lenny said, ‘And get eaten? No thanks.’ So I again asked the 64 million dollar question, ‘You boys drink your lunch?’” His sandwich now gone, Chester leaned back in his chair, smiled at the two of us and began stuffing chips in his mouth. Pamela was smirking. I couldn’t tell if she was doing so at Chester or his tale. “Pamela.” I said. “This is not funny. Someone could have gotten hurt. Continue, Chester.” When I looked to Chester he was grinning. “Lenny said, ‘No sir, officer. We saw what we saw and we were sober.’” Chester finally noticed Pamela’s smirk and appeared to catch on to her trick. He threw a chip at a grinning Pamela, then continued his tale while focused on me. “So, I asked them to better describe it for me, tell me what it looked like, compare it to something,” Chester paused and shook his head at a chuckling Pamela, then continued. “Lenny said, ‘It was about a foot wide at the widest part, had lots of teeth, and a raised area on the top of its head like a crocodile. Hey, maybe that’s what it was.’” “What a crock,” Pamela said, then laughed at her choice of word. Chester continued unfazed. “I asked Lenny, ‘How would a croc get to Alton, Illinois?’
“That’s easy,” Pamela interrupted. “Same way a bull shark did back in the 30s.” “There are sharks in the river?” I asked. Unbelievable. Maybe I am naive. “A shark,” Pamela answered. “As in one. It was caught in 1937 by two local fishermen. It was assumed that it swam up the Mississippi from the Gulf. That was back before they constructed dams downriver. That’s a story for another time though. Continue Chester, what did Len say about how a croc could get to Alton?” Chester shook his head and resumed. “Actually it was Carl. He said, ‘We didn’t see this thing in Alton.’ Well, that did it. You’re right, I should have known those two were wasting my time. I shut my report book, looked at them and asked where they actually saw it. ‘By those new bluffs around the bridge at Littles Island,’ Len said.” “You see!” Pamela, eyes ablaze, said to Chester. “That’s why you should never go on one of those calls without me. I’ve always told you those two loony bins should be locked up. Why were they bothering you with this?” I was lost here, didn’t know what Chester had done wrong. Pamela saw my questioning, dense look and, said, “That’s on the Missouri River, in Missouri. It’s a little out of our jurisdiction, Sara.” She looked back at Chester. “Did they have a reason for calling the Alton Illinois Police Department?” Chester scratched at his unshaven face. “They heard about all the missing cats and dogs in this area and—” “Missing cats and dogs?” I asked.
Chester nodded to me. “We’ve been getting a lot of calls and people claim there hasn’t been much to hunt across the river. There are normally a lot of rabbits and pheasants.” He turned to Pamela. “Anyway, they thought they were helping us out. I told them to call Russell Samuels and the Missouri Highway Patrol. His jurisdiction.” I knew that last little bit was for my benefit. “Darn straight,” Pamela said. “Russ will put those goofs in their place,” she snapped at him, then softened. “Maybe it was one of them big snakes like they got in the Everglades,” she pointed out with a smirk on her face, then threw a chip back at him. She just loved to needle poor Chester. They seemed to have such a fun relationship. Sharks in the Mississippi and big snakes in the Everglades were news to me, but they already thought I was clueless and sheltered, so I refused to ask them to explain. Instead, I asked, “Wasn’t that area covered by water during the flood back in April?” “Yeah,” Chester answered while nodding. “Halfway up the bluffs. When the water receded it left them high and dry.” “Maybe this thing came out of the bluffs,” I pointed out. “We’ve had an earthquake and the heavy rains and floods, why not? Maybe—“ “Have you been listening, Sara?” Pamela asked. “Those two jokesters are always seeing things. But Chet, who should know better, actually listens to them. Drives me bonkers.” “I’m sorry,” I said, and even though I wasn’t, I guess I looked hurt because Pamela instantly jumped off the swing and was kneeling by my chair.
“No, I’m sorry, Chet knows I’m just yanking’ his chain. You’re not used to my odd ways yet.” “I’m not upset. I love you just the way you are, Pamela,” I said. “You and Chester have made my last few weeks bearable—“ “Hey,” Pamela said as she ran her long tanned fingers through my hair. “Don’t get all mushy on me, I can’t handle that kind of stuff.” Then she hugged me. Pulling away, she said, “Just don’t give credence to Chester’s speculations. Do you want to ruin the only part of my job that’s fun?” “Well,” I said. “I think Chester’s onto something. What’s next?” At that moment Aunt Claire walked out onto the porch and began collecting plates. “Next, we’ve got to clean this place up,” Aunt Claire said as she walked about. “I‘ve got a special guest coming in from some big museum in Chicago and he’s been booked for a week or two. I can sure use the money. Thank the Lord for the earthquake. It seems to have opened up some caverns in the bluffs just to the north of town and he’s coming in to accompany Professor Moirés in exploring them.” “What for?” asked Pamela. “Professor Moirés thinks the caves might have something to do with the Piasa. He has an old friend at the Chicago museum who has agreed to fund an expedition. Heaven knows our museum couldn’t afford to pay for anything like that.” “Who’s Professor Moirés? What’s a Peeassa?” I asked.
“Professor Moirés is this great old guy who operates our tiny museum,” Pamela answered. “I’ll take you to meet him later and let him tell you about the Piasa. I don’t think I can do it without laughing. By the way, it’s pronounced pie-a-saw.” “Pamela, you are so bad.” Aunt Claire scolded. “You make light of all of our town’s old mysteries. But taking Sara over to introduce her to Winston is a good idea. He’s been asking to meet her. That’ll get you all out of my hair so I can tidy the place up and get the Cavern ready for this man coming down.”
