F. Wilson - Secret Circles

lights on. You know the rest.”

Jack jumped at a loud crunching, sucking sound to his right. He looked and saw

a section of the street‟s asphalt caving in not thirty feet away.

Another sinkhole.

“You can expect many more of those in Old Town before the night is over. The

lost town is crumbling beneath us.”

“Will there be anything left of it?”

“I doubt it.”

Jack pointed to the original hole. “So … we say we fell in there and found Cody.

How did we get out?”

“The flood waters floated you high enough to climb out. The revised story is

essentially true. All you are changing is the location of your ingress and egress. In exchange, I do not press charges.” He gave a small, condescending smile. “That way

the two of you can become big heroes in your little world.”

Jack didn‟t want to be a hero, and was already working on ways to play down his

role, reducing it to just happening to be in the right place at the right time. The real hero—at the end, at least—was the animal. It had died saving Cody. Of course, Cody

wouldn‟t have needed saving if it had left him alone in the first place.

The animal … Jack had a feeling Mr. Drexler knew something about it. “What do we say about the animal down there?”

Mr. Drexler fixed his gaze a thousand miles away. “Say what ever you wish.” “Not much to say since none of us saw it.”

“Then perhaps the less said, the better. The child‟s story will be confused and

garbled, and will change again and again. No sense in causing undue alarm over a

creature that is undoubtedly dead.”

“What was it?”

Mr. Drexler kept his gaze averted. “I have no idea.”

“Yes, you do. You reacted when we told you about it.”

Finally he looked at Jack. “I assure you I do not know what it was. I have an

idea what it might have been, but …”

“But?”

“What it might have been should have died a long, long time ago. It seems

impossible that it could have survived this long.”

Frustration flooded Jack. Mr. Drexler was answering the question without telling

him anything.

“But what „might‟ it have been?”

“Let‟s just call it a bear … an unusual breed of bear.”

What ever Jack had seen of the creature could be considered bearish … except

maybe for that tentacle thing. Okay … a mutant bear or some such.

“Could it or one of its ancestors have been caged in that stone pyramid out by

the mound?”

Mr. Drexler stared at him for a long moment. “You do get around, don‟t you.” The wail of a siren filtered through the night. Jack looked down Quakerton Road

and saw flashing red lights heading their way.

“Do we have a deal?” Mr. Drexler said.

Jack nodded. “Deal. I‟ll fill Weezy in. And I guess I‟m fired, right?” The dark eyebrows lifted.

“Fired? Why would I fire you?”

“Well, I thought—”

“Oh, no. I want you where I can keep an eye on you.”

FRIDAY

1

“I should have stayed with you guys!” Eddie said for what had to be the thousandth time as they walked toward the bus stop. He was toying with his Rubik‟s Cube, absently twisting it back and forth without looking at it. “Why didn‟t I stay ?”

“‟Cause you‟re a wimp,” Jack told him.

“I am! I am! Wimpacious maximus!”

They‟d told him pretty much the same story they‟d told everyone else, but with a

special variation since Eddie knew they‟d been in the Lodge. They told him they hadn‟t found the pyramid and had fallen into the sinkhole after leaving the building. “I could be a hero now like you guys!”

“Not until you straighten out that cube—or let a genius like me do it for you.”

“And let you be a Rubik‟s hero too? As if.”

“We‟re not heroes,” Weezy said. “Please stop saying that.”

“But you are! Man, if I‟d been with you guys when you found Cody, I‟d be wearing a

Superman cape to school today.”

“Then I‟m glad you weren‟t,” she said, glancing at Jack.

Yeah. Jack was glad too. There‟d be no way of keeping a lid on Eddie. Sooner or later he‟d spill the beans about being in the Lodge, ruining their deal with Mr. Drexler.

Jack and Weezy had quickly discussed it last night during the turmoil of the ambulance‟s arrival. Neither wanted the attention that was coming, so they agreed to minimize their role in Cody‟s rescue.

When they were questioned—by Tim, who‟d shown up even though it wasn‟t his shift—they told him they‟d fallen through the sinkhole, heard Cody‟s cries, and climbed back out with him.

What of Cody’s story of a monster keeping him prisoner?

We don’t know…we never saw it. Too dark to see anything down there.

What you did was very brave. You’re heroes.

We’re not. We literally fell into hesitation and did what anyone else would have done.

And that was the way it had gone. Jack asked Tim to keep their names out of it as much as possible. He‟d seemed puzzled by the request but said he‟d do what he could.

“How‟s your head?” Weezy asked.

He touched the tender area of scalp at the rear, gooey now with Neosporin.

“Okay, I guess.”

The EMTs had looked at it last night and told him he‟d be better off with stitches but, because it wasn‟t a full-thickness cut, didn‟t absolutely need them. Jack had opted for a little first-aid treatment.

His mother had almost fainted when she saw the blood on his shirt, but recovered and was suitably proud when Tim told her and Dad about Jack finding Cody.

He still didn‟t understand what it had been about his blood that turned the animal off. Not that he was unhappy about that—no way. Just curious.

Curious about Walt too. Had it been pure coincidence that Cody had come to when Walt touched him, or …

Or what?

You may be needed in the next day or so…

This was all so crazy.

His folks had given him the option of staying home today, but he wanted to go in. Word of the rescue would be spreading through school and he wanted to be there to douse any hero talk.

Being a hero meant attention. Neither he nor Weezy wanted that. He wasn‟t sure of Weezy‟s reasons, but he knew she was self-conscious and probably figured the more people looked at her, the more flaws they‟d find. He just wanted to be Jack … just Jack … a kid who could walk the halls and go where he wanted when he wanted without anyone paying much attention.

Yeah. No hero stuff. At least not on the outside. But inside he was feeling pretty damn good.

He‟d put Mr. Vivino in his place and found a lost child almost given up for dead.

Not bad for a night‟s work.

Except for one thing …

“Think we‟ll ever see that little pyramid again?”

Weezy closed her eyes and flinched—as if the question had caused physical pain.

He knew the answer, but wondered if Weezy could accept it. He had a wild vision of her at the controls of a backhoe digging up the streets of Old Town in search of the buried city and her pyramid.

“I don‟t want to talk about it.”

“Well, then—”

“Okay, yes, I do. It‟s gone for good, buried under Old Town. I know that. It makes me want to scream when I think of it lost down there, but it‟s better than knowing it‟s sitting on a shelf in the Lodge. I want it back like crazy, but I have to accept that it‟s gone. At least it wasn‟t stolen from us this time … we lost it. There‟s a big difference—at least to me—if that makes any sense.”

“It does, kind of.” He looked at her. “You mean that?”