F. Wilson: Secret Histories

Mr. Brussard had just met the klazen. Jack was sure of it.

And now it was heading for him.

No … angling northwest … across his intended path.

So Jack did an about-face and began walking the other way, taking the long way home. When he looked back he saw the streak stil headed in the

other direction.

Safe … or was he? Somehow he didn’t feel safe.

He broke into a run and didn’t slow until he’d reached his yard. He stopped and looked around, praying he wouldn’t see a dark streak filtering through

the misty cornrows of the neighboring field and heading his way.

Nothing. It must stil be heading northwest.

Wait … the county jail was northwest of Johnson … and Mr. Chal is had stayed there … because it was safer …

He wished Weezy were here. She’d be so into this. But Jack …

He crawled through the window, closed and locked it behind him, leaped into bed, and pul ed the covers over his head.

He hated things he couldn’t explain.

“Did you hear?” Kate said, rushing into the kitchen.

Jack was just finishing the Taylor ham and egg sandwich he’d had for lunch. Mom turned from the sink. “Hear what, dear?”

“Gordon Brussard dropped dead last night.”

Mom dropped the plate she’d been fitting into the dishwasher. It didn’t break. “No!”

“Yes! And so did that man Chal is, the one who confessed to kil ing the man Jack

found. Within an hour of each other. Can you believe it?”

“No,” Mom said. “I can’t.”

Jack could. But even though he’d half expected it, he couldn’t help but feel

shock. Had he real y been on Harding Street last night? Or had he dreamed it? How could he e sure?

Kate said, “It’s true!”

“Where’d you hear al this?”

“Down at Burdett’s. I was on empty and Jeff fil ed me in while he was fil ing me

up.”

That sort of clinched the deaths. Jeff Colton, the pump jockey at Burdett’s Esso station, talked to everyone who stopped in and pumped them for

gossip. He knew everything there was to know in this end of Burlington County.

Jack said, “What are the chances of that happening? I mean, two people arrested for the same crime dropping dead at almost the same time?”

Kate shook her head. “Astronomical, I’d think. Then again …” Her voice trailed off.

“Then again what?”

“Getting arrested has got to be unbelievably stressful, whether you’re innocent or guilty. I can’t imagine that would be good for your heart. And if you had

any heart disease …” She shrugged. “I guess it’s possible. If this were Magnum, P.I., I’d be guessing they were both poisoned or something, but in real

life …” Another shrug. “Just a bizarre coincidence.”

Uh-uh, Jack thought. Maybe no coincidence. Maybe a klazen.

But no way was he mentioning that. Talk about opening a can of worms.

“Poor Steve,” he said, and meant it. The thought of losing his own father … he couldn’t imagine what Steve was feeling.

He could imagine Steve’s mom using her Valium today, and Steve probably wishing he had some— needing some.

Jack realized then that he needed something too: fresh air. He had the day off and didn’t want to spend it thinking about things he couldn’t explain.

Besides, Eddie had cal ed to announce that his grandmother had bought him the new StarWars:DeathStarBattle video game.

“I’m going out,” he said, carrying his empty plate to the dishwasher.

“Where?” Mom said.

“Weez and Eddie’s, I guess.”

Mom gave him a don’t-forget-what-I-told-you look.

Man …

Jack heard cursing as they approached the spong.

He’d hung out with Weezy and Eddie for a while, the two guys taking turns at

DeathStarBattle

—it looked super on the 5200—and Weezy watching

morosely, saying little. She was stil bummed out about losing the cube and the pyramid. Somewhere along the line Jack let slip the possibility that the

mound was pre-Columbian, maybe even prehistoric.

Wel , that was al Weezy had to hear. Before he knew it she was up and out and headed for her bike. Jack tried to stop her, tel ing her what Tim had

said, but Weezy was deaf to al that. Since he couldn’t let her ride off into the Pines alone, he went with her. Even Eddie tagged along, saying something

about it being “fossilacious.” Apparently he’d equated prehistoric with dinosaurs.

On the plus side, the road trip pul ed Weezy out of her funk. She was her old self again, chattering away about her secret-history stuff as she led them

down the fire trail.

The cursing grew louder, and as they reached the spong area they saw a skinny man wearing an Agway gimme cap, bib-front overal s, duck boots, and

probably nothing else. He looked like he was dancing around the open area, but he was kicking at the traps, many with sticks jutting from them, and

cursing a blue streak.

The three of them stopped to stare. This had to be the trapper, and it looked like Mrs. Clevenger had been doing her thing again.

He stopped when he saw them.

“Whatchoo lookin’ at?”

When they didn’t reply, he started toward them. He needed a shave and most likely a bath, and his eyes looked wild with rage.

“You been doin’ this? You the ones been messin’ up muh traps?”

“We just got here, mister,” Jack said, thinking this couldn’t be Old Man Foster because he wasn’t old. Forty, tops. “Are you Mister Foster?”

“Zeb Foster? No, I ain’t him.”

“Then what are you doing trapping on his land?” Weezy said.

He stepped closer. “Look, I don’t need no little girl asking me no fresh-mouthed questions. Get outa here!”

Weezy stood her ground. “Wel , if you’re not Mister Foster, who are you?”

“I’m his son, dammit! Now git!” He pointed a dirty finger at them. “And you better not be the ones springin’ muh traps, ‘cause if you are, I’l skin you like a

coon—only you’l stil be alive when I do it. Now git!”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie said, moving faster than usual.

“One creepitacious guy,” he said when they’d moved out of earshot.

Weezy made a face. “Like I believe he’s Old Man Foster’s son.”

“Maybe he isn’t,” Jack said. “But I do believe he meant what he said about skinning us alive.”

“This is criminal!” Weezy cried as she walked among the ruins of the mound. “An absolute sin!”

Jack agreed. The mound or mounds—he couldn’t be sure exactly what had been here before—had snaked among the burned trunks. Now trenches ran

in al directions amid knocked-down and half-downed trees.

She kicked at the sand. “They’ve destroyed everything!”

“See any fossils?” Eddie said.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” a familiar voice cal ed.

Jack turned and saw Tim standing by his patrol car at the edge of the burned area.

Jack, Weezy, and Eddie looked at one another, then ambled over to where he waited.

Tim shook his head as he looked at Jack. “Didn’t I tel you to stay away from here?”

Jack could have said he’d come along only to keep Weezy company, but that wasn’t exactly true and he wasn’t about to lay it on her. No one had forced

him to come along.

So he simply shrugged.