Now was the moment of meeting the locals. Getting into their heads and sifting from their experiences something that can draw the subscribers passion for the colorful and mysterious Salem past.

Now if you recall Rebecca was in a local shop talking to the owner and setting up an interview with a decendent of an original settlers to Salem.

There are such misconceptions as to the executions the world is so familiar with that she might just take advantage of your suggestion." "Great, I am staying at a local bread and breakfast, but I will give you my cell phone number just in case I am about town shooting. May I also take some shots of your store? It would add such legitimacy. And if you don't mind I can include you in the photo captions defining our choices." “Sure! I would be glad to as long as it doesn’t interfere with my customers. Matter of fact, they might find this interesting." Rebecca turned and walked toward the front door when a strange little man came rushing through without a word brushing against her arm causing it to turn her ½ way around. As she was again heading toward the door she couldn’t help but overhear him ask the owner in a panicky manner if he heard that a reporter from a New York City was in town taking pictures of the old church sight. I was somewhat surprised as to why this would set off such a reaction as much as they are use to tourist trekking through their streets and shops. At that moment I just fluffed it off as not being use to someone interested in photographing in such detail all that makes Salem still such a mysterious place. Sometimes having a place that one can call home should not for any price be compromised. I never considered the average homeowner’s feelings toward having their sidewalks crowded with people from other places and swarming down into their lives. I guess I am as guilty as the rest of us only referring to the profits that are usually gained because of Salem’s history and not it’s present. “Mmmm, that may be an angle to consider”. “Past and Present people of Salem, is there a difference? I’ll have to think about that”. That was a strange little man, though.

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The day turned to mid morning, all too early for lunch, so Rebecca decided to do some walking through some of the tree lined street that ran perpendicular to the main road in town. The sun was strong and its rays peeked through the still full canopies of the very old tree hovering high above. The width of their trunks was wide enough to drill large doorways thru. They were magnificent. The air was fresh and smelled of earth, fresh air, and flowers of the season and naturally with the aromas that would permeate from the local bakeries, restaurants, and homes, it seemed that if anything, this place was together on a real all out celebration of Halloween. Other than businesses this must be a small town practice. Heck, she never experienced so much cooperation and expenditure on Halloween anywhere she had been before. Now Christmas was a totally different topic. With the combination of others religions the city was lit up like a Christmas tree, she giggled, excusing the pun. But although it was a great gesture Rebecca seemed to get this eerie feeling about one-thought minds. You know, it felt like something from The Stepford Wives.

Where was her mind taking her and why? This is so ridiculous. But she couldn’t seem to control the goose bumps that gave rise to her arms and legs. She could feel them under her sweater. She began rubbing her arms and feeling dizzy when standing ten feet in front of her extending high from the tree ‘s thick limb was a noose. She began to step back and a chill seemed to penetrate through her cloths, the wind began to sweep under the leaves and dirt just like before, erecting a funnel shape miniature tornado causing a blinding dust that soon became suffocating. She found herself frozen in place, until the sound of laughter from a nearby home broke her concentration and all became as was. Except she found herself standing with her back pressed against the bark, so much so that it hurt. Two boys passed by her on their scooters. The second one, about 12, turned his head as he was passing and stared right at her, saying nothing but giving a look so daggering. He then just continued on his way calling out to the boy ahead. “Wait up, I’m gonna tell mom.” Well at least that was an all-together familiar chant. You can’t imagine how many times Rebecca heard that from her younger brother. She couldn’t let whatever this ridiculous scene was interfere in her work. This job is worth thousands in the bank and was just letting her nerves about it take over. That’s all this could be. Unconsciously, Rebecca was worried and it just must be surfacing in weird way. She pulled out her camera and began photo shooting the perfect neighborhood Halloween scene. This place was truly American Arts and Crafts.

Walking up and across the streets, Rebecca had an urge to get closer to the stages set on every single stoop. But there were not that many people out front that she could ask permission of. She thought about doing it anyway, and then decided against it. Little did Rebecca realize that even though she was taking all these shots, behind many of those closed doors she too was being studied. Rebecca was no ordinary sightseer. She was a professional photographer sent here to unveil the 21^st century Salem to the world. People were naturally curious. Some were even excited about having their homes and businesses publicized. And then, there are always those who feel that they have had enough. It’s ironic though when you think about it. Businesses boom because of the Salem’s history bringing much revenue to what could have been just another New England town in full autumn bloom, and yet, Rebecca couldn’t help sense the existence of underlying contempt for the attention.

Rebecca was itching to check out more of the side streets but she was also apprehensive. She is not going crazy, just an overactive imagination. After all she has been living, eating, and breathing Salem, Salem and more Salem that it must be affecting her so much so that she finds herself seeing what’s not there. No instead of continuing, she’ll just go back to the bed and breakfast for a bite to eat, sit by the fire for a while and go over her notes and check out some of those shots she took. She definitely wanted to check out those pictures. A noose, thank god she reacted like a pro and started shooting. She really was anxious to see those pics. And she wanted to get as much done so she would be refreshed and looking glamorous for her date with “The Steve” the man in Salem. Well the shiver she felt then was definitely welcomed. She giggled again at herself. She actually felt relieved knowing that she would be soon putting aside the pressure of the job and relaxing, which knows possibly in the arms of a very handsome, accommodating man.

When Rebecca arrived at the inn, she found herself entering as the dining room table was being set for lunch. She noticed that there was an extra seating placed. Hanging her jacket on the rack and dropping her bags down next to a comfortable winged chair in front of the ever-glowing fireplace. The aroma from the kitchen reminded her of how hungry she was and quickly turned to go upstairs to wash when she found herself facing the other guest. He was a middle aged man dressed in a three pieced tweed suit with leather patched elbows, sleeves and vest adorned with unusual crafted buttons. Each seemed to have a different etched design. “Good day, I’m Professor Ingersoll. Just arrived and hopefully will be joining you for lunch. It would be nice to have some company.” “Yes, it would. I will be down in a moment. Like to get refreshed, excuse me.”

Rebecca smiled and continued toward the stairway and up to her room where she collected her toiletries and headed for the bathroom. Meantime the professor alone in the parlor took notice of Rebecca’s bags lying near the chair. He appeared interested, especially noticing that one held photo equipment. He turned his head toward the stair and the door going to the kitchen listening for any sounds and headed toward the winged chair bending forward but was interrupted when the creak of the swinging door from the kitchen caused him to turn and walked to a set place at the table. The large tureen, ladle in place, was set in the center along with fresh baked bread and soft butter. A pitcher of apple cider was at one end. Water glasses were filled. He sat and placed the cloth napkin on his lap as Rebecca entered. “My, this smells delicious. I didn’t realize how hungry I was”. “Oh yes. Why the inns of Salem are definitely noted for their fine home cooking”, said the professor. And I think we are going to find out why. I come here every year and have as of yet been not been disappointed. Is this your first time in Salem or have I just not had the good fortune to see you about town and now to my joy discover that we are sharing the same inn?” Rebecca looked up with a lightly puzzled look. “See me about town?” I ‘m sorry, but I don’t recall seeing you before.” Oh! No my dear. I was visiting at a friend’s house when I saw you taking photos outside their home. What was it that interested you so, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Oh well, I was taken by the majesty and age of the trees. I had to capture them. I think they would make for an awesome background. You see I am looking to combine setting with history, season, custom, and foods. What do you think of a black cover using vivid foreground colors of autumn? No one has ever taken an entire background cover of a women’s magazine and did it in black. I really think that although chancy, it may just revolutionize the industry. Almost like the way Italian Villa Foods in the late 70’s did for the frozen food industry. Prior to them using dark colors, every box in those frozen food cases was white or beige in color. Why, you should have seen how they would pop out of the case. People would pick it up just to turn it over and see if the colors continued on the other side. It was ingenious. You know what, I think that’s what I will suggest the magazine do. Continue around to the back. Would you be attracted to it if it were on the magazine rack at your local store Professor?” “Not that I often or at all buy magazines from racks, but I think I can understand the attraction especially at Halloween time” was his response. Rebecca was lit up. She couldn’t stop the ideas from running like a locomotive through her brain. The professor ladled two full scoops of the homemade soup into her bowl before she could stop him. “My dear, I can’t wait for you to taste this. It is pumpkin soup, sweet, thick, hot, and just slides ever so smoothly past the palette. I will tell you now that you will never find one made more delicious. And the homemade raison muffins with a dab of honey butter will just have you asking for more.” Why thank you Professor Ingersoll”. “Oh, don’t be so formal Rebecca, just call me, Professor.