F. Wilson: Secret Histories

As she’d done al day, Weezy led the way, winding through the blackened trunks until she came to a break in the trees.

“Here’s where the mound begins.”

“Mound?” Eddie said. “Where?”

But Jack saw what she meant. They stood at the tip of where two linear mounds, each a couple of feet high and maybe a yard wide, converged to a

point. Both ran off at angles between the blackened trees.

“Like some giant gopher,” Eddie said.

Weezy shook her head. “Except look how smooth they are. And how straight. Nobody knows it’s here, and I never would have noticed it if the fire hadn’t

cleared al the undergrowth. I haven’t explored the whole thing, so I—”

“You were out here alone?” Jack said.

She nodded. “You know me. I like to explore. Who else is going to come along? You?”

His two part-time jobs didn’t leave Jack much time to explore the Barrens, especial y not to the extent Weezy did. She’d spend hours digging for

arrowheads or other artifacts. The only reason he was out here today was because Mr. Rosen closed his store on Mondays.

He smiled and shrugged. “Beautiful teenage girl alone in the woods … might meet a Big Bad Wolf.”

She grinned and punched him on the shoulder. “Get out! Now you’re making fun of me.”

“Maybe a little, but you’ve got to be careful, Weez.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. But they’ve got to find me first.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I got a little spooked here before I could explore the rest of the

mound, so that’s—”

“You? Spooked?” Eddie laughed. “You are a spook. Nothing spooks you.”

“Wel , this place does.” She pointed along the lengths of the two ridges to where they faded into the trees. “See how nothing grows on the mounds? I

mean, isn’t that weird?”

Jack saw what she meant. Low-lying scrub—most of it scorched and blackened—crowded around the trees and spread across every square inch of

sand between them. Everywhere except on the mounds.

Yeah. Weird, al right. Sand was sand. What made the mounds different?

Or was it a single mound, angling in different directions?

“Feel it,” she said, patting the surface. “It’s stil sand, but it’s hard. Like it hasn’t been disturbed for so long it’s formed some kind of crust.”

Jack ran his fingers along the surface, then pressed. The sand wouldn’t yield. But something else … an unpleasant tingle in his fingertips. He pul ed

them away and looked at them. The tingling stopped. He glanced at Weezy and found her staring at him.

“So it isn’t just me. You feel it too.”

“Feel what?” Eddie said, rubbing his hands over the hard surface. “I don’t feel anything.”

Weezy was stil staring at Jack. “Now you know what spooked me.”

She reached around to a rear pocket and pul ed out the smal spiral notebook and pencil she never went anywhere without.

“I’l bet somebody designed this in a special shape. Let’s see if we can figure it out.”

“What do you mean, ‘special shape’?”

“A lot of these mounds are ancient—thousands of years old.”

“You mean, like, burial mounds?”

Jack had heard of those. The Lenape Indians used to inhabit the pines.

Weezy shook her head. “Some of the most mysterious mounds have nothing to do with burials. Take the Serpent Mound in Ohio. It curves back and

forth like a snake for over a quarter mile. And get this—nobody knows how old it is. This could be something like that.” Her face brightened as she smiled.

“And I discovered it. I’ve got to get this diagrammed.”

Wondering how she knew al this stuff, Jack watched her draw a few lines on her pad, then move off, weaving through the trees as she fol owed the

mound to the right. Jack and Eddie fol owed close behind through air heavy with the smel of burned wood. This was Weezy’s show, but Jack was getting

into it. Something about these mounds and the way nothing grew on them gave him a funny feeling in his gut, but he had to admit he was fascinated.

into it. Something about these mounds and the way nothing grew on them gave him a funny feeling in his gut, but he had to admit he was fascinated.

“Oh, look at this,” she said after she’d gone maybe twenty feet. “Another mound crosses here.” She drew some more lines. “This is getting confusing.”

“Hey,” Eddie said.

Jack turned and saw him standing atop the mound with his arms spread.

“Eddie—” Weezy began

“You want to map these mounds, right? Wel , instead of ducking through al those trees, doesn’t it make more sense to fol ow the mounds themselves?

It’l be a lot less boracious.”

Jack to turned to Weezy. “You know, that’s a great idea.”

Weezy hesitated, then shrugged. “I guess everybody has a good idea in them,” she muttered. “Even Eddie.”

Jack bowed and made a flourish toward the mound. “Ladies first.”

She smiled and faked a curtsy. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”

As the three of them began walking the mound, the sky darkened. Jack looked up and saw a menacing pile of clouds scudding in from the west,

blotting out the sun. Weezy shaded her eyes as she stared skyward.

“Shoot. We’ve got trouble.”

“Looks like a thunderhead,” Eddie said.

She nodded. “Cumulonimbus—piled high. Going to be a bad one.”

“‘Cumulonimbus’?” Jack had to laugh. Weezy never ceased to amaze him. “How do you know this stuff?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“Do you sit down and memorize everything you read?”

She shook her head. “I don’t have to. If I read something once, it’s there. I never forget it. Ever. At least not so far.”

No wonder she got straight A’s. Jack would give anything— anything —for that power.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Hurry,” she said. “I want to get this done before the downpour.”

She started quick-walking along the mound until she came to another intersection. As she stopped to mark in her notebook, Jack looked around for

Eddie and spotted him a couple of dozen feet back. He was down on one knee, fiddling with his sneaker lace.

“Come on, Eddie. Don’t want the Jersey Devil to catch you.”

He grinned. “You kidding? I have JD sausages for breakfast every morning.”

He jumped up and started trotting toward them. When he neared he jumped and landed inches in front of Jack.

“Boo!”

More thunder then, but another sound too. As Eddie’s feet thumped onto the surface of the mound, they kept on going, breaking through the outer shel

with a crunch.

Jack looked down and saw Eddie’s sneakers sunk ankle deep in the softer sand within.

“Jeez, man! What’d you do?”

He heard Weezy hurry up behind him and gasp. “Oh, Eddie! How could you?”

Eddie’s face reddened—whether with anger or embarrassment, Jack couldn’t tel .

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“You are the most unbelievable klutz! This mound’s sat here undisturbed for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, and you’re here, what, ten minutes,

and already you’ve desecrated it!”

“It was a soft spot! How could I know?”

Lightning flashed, fol owed quickly by a roar of thunder that rattled Jack’s fil ings. He looked up at a sky completely lidded with dark clouds looking

ready to burst. Jeez, this storm was coming fast.

“Time to take cover, guys,” he said.

He grabbed Weezy’s arm and started pul ing her back toward the bikes. He knew if he didn’t she’d probably stay in the open, storm or no storm,

drawing her diagram. She didn’t fight him. Eddie fol owed.