F. Wilson - Secret Circles

Marcie Kurek was a runaway who‟d been a soph at the high school last year. She lived in Shamong. One night she said she was going out to visit a friend and never showed up. No one had seen her since.

Weezy turned and threw the photo on the floor.

Jack knew she tended to leave her stuff all over the house, a perfect invitation for her folks to dump the things they didn‟t approve of, especially anything that referred to what she called the Secret History of the World.

The Secret History was her passion—her conviction that accepted history was a collection of lies carefully constructed and arranged to hide what was really going on in the world, and conceal the hidden agenda and identities of those pulling the strings. Ancient secret societies manipulating events throughout the ages …

People—especially her family—tended to roll their eyes once she got started on it. Jack too, though not as quickly as he used to. He‟d seen and heard things last month that he couldn‟t explain … he didn‟t know if they fit into Weezy‟s Secret History, didn‟t know if they fit anywhere, or if they were even real.

Weezy was convinced that the pyramid they‟d found was connected to the Secret History. And maybe it was … this was a picture of the mound where they‟d found the body and the artifact, or rather what was left after those strange government men had dug it up in the night.

He glanced at it now on the floor and was once again struck by the strange outline. As he looked he noticed something to the right of the mound …

He picked it up for a closer look … a dark object or structure in a small clearing. He‟d never noticed it before. But then again, the photo had been in Weezy‟s possession all this time, so he‟d never had much chance to study it.

“Hey, Weez. Where‟s your magnifying glass? Or did your folks throw that away too?”

“Not funny.”

She plucked a magnifier with a two-inch lens from a shelf above her desk and handed it to him.

Jack poised it over the area in question and felt a tingle of excitement across his neck as it grew larger and came into focus.

“Oh, man, you‟ve got to see this.” He passed the lens and photo to her, then tapped the spot.

“Right there.”

He watched her brow furrow as she moved the lens up and down and around.

“Hmmph. Never noticed.” She glanced up. “Could be just a big rock.”

“Yeah? Take another look. Count the sides.”

He watched her eyes narrow to a squint as she complied, then widen. She wore an entirely different expression when she looked up this time.

“Six.”

“Yeah. Just like our pyramid.”

A light sparked in her eyes. “Actually it had seven if you count the base. But this is bigger.

Much bigger.” She frowned. “Too big for them to steal.”

Jack knew who “them” were but didn‟t want her to get started on that now.

“You got that right. Want to take a look?”

“You kidding? Of course I—”

“There you are!”

Jack turned and saw Weezy‟s portly brother standing in the doorway, twisting a Rubik‟s Cube.

He had short, sandy hair and a pudgy body, and his striped rugby shirt gave him a definite Pugsley look. Jack was tempted to remark on the Addams Family theme here in the Connell house, but held his tongue. Eddie wouldn‟t take kindly to the Pugsley comparison.

But if Cousin Itt showed up …

“Hey Eddie. I was just—”

“No Berzerk today, man,” Eddie said, looking miffed. “My dad‟s booting me out of the house.

Wants me to „enjoy the outdoors.‟ Can you believe it?” He shook his head sadly. “Boracious.”

Eddie was not a fan of the outdoors, unless it meant sitting in the shade with a copy of Uncanny X-Men

Jack pointed to the Rubik‟s Cube that had become Eddie‟s latest obsession. “Hey, anytime you want me to straighten that out for you, let me know.”

He gave a wry grin. “Yeah, right. Like you could.”

Jack shrugged. “Just trying to help the helpless.”

Eddie glanced at his sister stretched on the bed and his grin turned evil. “You too, cave girl. He wants us both out in the”—he grabbed his throat and made a strangled sound—“fresh air.”

“We were just leaving,” Jack said.

“Where to?”

“The Pines.”

Eddie shook his head. “No way. Last time I was in there with you two we found a dead guy, and pretty soon a whole bunch of guys were dead.”

Jack shrugged. “Look at it this way: How many times can that happen? Chances of finding another dead guy are almost zilch.”

“You guarantee that?”

“Let‟s go,” was all Jack said.

Nothing was guaranteed in the Pines.

2

They finally convinced Eddie to come along. Jack was leading the way off Adams onto

North Franklin when he spotted a familiar blond-haired kid on a bike.

“Hey, Cody!” Jack called. “I thought you were going back home!”

“I am! I am!”

“Did you stop off in Canada along the way?”

The kid laughed. “No!”

Jack pointed toward Jefferson Street. “Better get back before your folks find out and sell you to the circus.”

He grinned as he pedaled away. “That‟d be soooo cool!”

Jack watched him turn the corner onto Jefferson and disappear from view, then signaled Weezy and Eddie back into motion.

“You handled that like a pro,” Weezy said as they rode.

“Yeah, well, I‟m positive his parents don‟t know he‟s out here. My mother knows his folks and she says he wears them out. Never stops moving.”

She slapped Eddie on the arm. “ That’s where all your energy went. Cody Bockman stole it.”

“I‟m gonna sue,” Eddie said. “No, wait. If I get it back I‟ll have to run around all the time.

Forget it!”

Jack said, “Check it out,” as he pointed to a colorful poster on one of the telephone poles.

It announced the arrival of the Taber & Sons circus. The show parked itself near Johnson for a few days every fall. Not a real full-blown circus like Ringling Brothers, just some rides, a few animals, a tent show, and a midway. The local dates had been inked in.

“Hey, it opens tomorrow,” Weezy said. “Maybe later we can go watch them set up.”

Eddie grinned. “Count me out. Watching people work wears me out.”

“Look!” Weezy cried as they approached Quaker Lake. “I‟ve never seen it so high.”

Neither had Jack. The lake was overflowing its banks and puddling near Quakerton Road. Mark Mulliner‟s canoes sat upside down at the water‟s edge. Jack doubted anyone had rented one in a while.

Mr. Rosen had been talking all week about how the ground was saturated and couldn‟t hold any more water. What ever came down had to run off somewhere, and much of it was flowing into the lake.

“It‟s all the rain,” Jack said.

Eddie said, “Your obvious-fu very strong.”

Jack had to smile. Yeah, pretty dumb thing to say. In defense, he puffed up his chest.

“That‟s „Supreme Master of the Obvious‟ to you.”

The level was even higher than yesterday when he‟d crossed the bridge on his way to Old Town. Water was pooled around some of the lakeside benches and willows.

A number of his lawn-cutting customers lived in Old Town, the original settlement that had spawned the sprawling, thousand-person metropolis of Johnson, New Jersey. But the succession of rainy days was interfering with his schedule. Yeah, he could cut wet grass, but it always wound up looking crummy, and then he‟d have to come back for a fix-up.

He‟d swung by after school yesterday to see if the lawns were dry enough to cut. They were, so he‟d raced home to get his mower. But as soon as he wheeled it out of the garage, the skies opened up again.