Jack_ Secret Vengeance - F. Paul Wilson [29]
This wasn’t getting anywhere. Jack took a gamble and said, “Could any of it have been part of the Secret History of the World?”
Mr. Foster trained his blue gaze on him. “Where did you hear of that?”
“From a friend.”
“The girl Mrs. Clevenger told me about? She seems quite fond of her. She’s the one who found the mound?”
“Yeah. But I’m the one who found the cage.”
“What cage?”
“The one made of big stones and shaped like a pyramid.”
Mr. Foster stared at him. “You have been exploring, haven’t you?”
Jack only shrugged.
“What makes you think it’s a cage?”
“Just a guess … I mean, from the way it’s built. Am I right?”
He nodded. “You haven’t told anybody about it, have you?”
Jack shook his head. “We didn’t want it dug up. We learned our lesson the first time.”
“You’re wise beyond your years. Some people live entire lives without ever once learning from experience. I thank you for that.”
Jack shrugged again. “I don’t like trespassers either.”
Mr. Foster laughed. “You’re quite something.”
“What was kept in the cage?”
The old man’s smile vanished. “Something long gone.”
“A lion? A tiger? A bear?”
I sound like someone from The Wizard of Oz, Jack thought. His mind flashed back to the shadowy thing he and Weezy had encountered last month.
“Take your pick.”
That wasn’t an answer. He seemed to be taking a cue from Mrs. Clevenger. Why couldn’t anyone give a straight answer?
“But it escaped.”
“How do you—oh, I see. The broken stone. Yes, it probably did. But it doesn’t matter. It’s gone. Extinct.”
“It could have bred—”
“Forget about it. It’s gone.” He glanced at where the sun was kissing the treetops. “And speaking of gone, that’s what you should be. It will be dark soon.”
Mrs. Clevenger arrived then.
“I should be going too,” she said.
Mr. Foster nodded to her. “Good seeing you, as always.”
Jack wondered why he didn’t offer the old woman a ride. Then again, Mrs. Clevenger always seemed to prefer moving about the Pines on her own. Mr. Foster turned and gripped the handle of the passenger door.
“Let me check on our little friend here…”
But as he pulled open the door the young raccoon leaped out and darted at full speed into the brush. In a flash it was gone.
Jack gawked at the spot where it had disappeared.
“But … but its legs! How—?”
“Couldn’t resist, could you?” Mrs. Clevenger said in a scolding tone. Jack turned and realized she was talking to her dog. “You know about the natural order.”
The dog stared up at her, panting, then shook itself.
“But its legs were broken,” Jack said. “How did it run—?”
Mr. Foster shrugged. “I guess they weren’t as bad as they looked.”
They were just as bad as they looked, Jack thought. Bloody, bent the wrong way … as broken as broken could be.
Then the dog had licked them.
Jack looked at the dog. The dog looked at him. Suddenly he felt creeped out.
“He’s not magic, is he?”
“Hmmm,” Mrs. Clevenger said, her lips flirting with a smile. “Let’s think about that. If I had a magic dog, that would make me a witch, wouldn’t it.”
Jack felt a chill. All those stories about Mrs. Clevenger being the reincarnation of the famous Witch of the Pines. Nonsense, of course. Fun to joke about, and scare little kids—he remembered being scared when his brother Tom had told him about it—but not to be taken seriously at his age.
Well … easy to joke about when hanging out at someone’s house. But here in the Pines, standing with these two strange people and an even stranger dog, with the sun setting, and a definitely crippled animal jumping up and running away, it didn’t seem the least bit funny.
Mr. Foster laughed. “She’s only teasing you, Jack.”
“Of course I am,” she said. “Dear boy, I’m no more a witch than your own mother.”
“And speaking of your mother,” Mr. Foster said, “I’ve never met the woman, but I imagine about now she’ll be wondering if you’re going to be late for dinner.”
Jack knew that wasn’t true. They always ate later than most people. But he took the hint.
“Yeah, I guess I’d better