Jack_ Secret Vengeance - F. Paul Wilson [46]
“My father?”
“He was invited into the Septimus Order but declined.”
Jack had known that, but …
“Wait … so what you’re saying is that the Septimus Order knows the Secret History of the World.”
Drexler gave a soft heh-heh, maybe as close to a laugh as he ever got. “No one knows the entire Secret History, but the Order is privileged to be keeper and guardian of some of those truths. I believe you qualify for membership, in fact I believe you would be an asset to the Order, but you’re not eligible at this tender age. In the future, however, should you be invited, do not be so foolish as to turn down access to those secret truths.”
“But what do you do with them?”
That pseudosmile again. “Use them, of course. Put them to work. Once you are a member, and progress through the ranks, you will learn how.”
An inane thought popped into Jack’s head: Would he find the secret to opening Toliver’s lock?
“Until then,” Mr. Drexler added, “I’m afraid you must remain among the Moved.”
The conversation was beginning to make Jack uncomfortable. Lots of people thought they had special knowledge. He’d once seen an ad in a comic book for “Secrets of the Rosicrucians” and had looked them up. They thought they had special knowledge, but they let anyone in. Somehow he doubted that people advertising in comic books knew real secret truths.
But according to Weezy, the Ancient Septimus Fraternal Order was truly ancient. So maybe they did know things no one else knew. Or maybe they just thought they did.
If they really knew something, did Jack want a piece of it?
Damn straight.
But right now he had more immediate, real-life concerns.
He rose and placed the empty Pepsi can on the chair cushion.
“Thanks for the drink. I’d better get to the weeds.”
“The beds can wait until tomorrow,” Mr. Drexler said, standing. “As long as the grass is cut—that is the important thing. Come back then.”
“But I thought you said—”
“The gathering I mentioned? They’ll begin to arrive soon, so I want you and your mower gone.”
“What’s this gathering about?”
He gave Jack an intense stare. “You ask too many questions. Only members may ask questions, and even they do not always receive an answer. You are not a member. Your concerns about the Lodge are to be limited to the grounds and nothing more. You can finish up your duties tomorrow. Perhaps we can talk a little more then.”
Jack couldn’t fathom why Mr. Drexler wanted to talk. It wasn’t like he was trying to convince him to join the Order—he’d already said he was too young.
Was he trying to talk him into something else?
Without being called, Eggers appeared and picked up one of the chairs. As he returned it to the Lodge, Mr. Drexler moved a few steps closer to the lake, where he stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the “little people.”
Watching him, Jack had a strange thought about the bombings in Beirut and the trouble in Grenada and all the rest of the turmoil in the world. Could the Septimus Order have something to do with that? Could they be using their secret truths to manipulate events? Were they the method behind the madness?
Nah. That was Weezy talk. Nobody, not even the Septimus Order, had that kind of power.
10
“Sounds like a load of elitist crap to me,” Dad said.
“Tom,” Mom scolded. “Not at the table.”
Jack had just related a nutshell version of his conversation with Mr. Drexler. He glanced across the table at Kate, who smiled and winked at him. They always made fun of Mom’s tender ears.
She’d served what he and Kate called a “Mommy meal”: roasted chicken and potatoes, plus buttered green beans.
Kate was home for the weekend, and so the dinner table held four tonight. His older sister had started medical school at UMDNJ in Stratford the same week Jack had started high school. Her apartment there was less than twenty miles away, so it was no big deal for her to visit. Jack hoped she came home often. She was one of his favorite people in the world.
His brother Tom, on the other hand, was finishing law school up north in Jersey City and probably wouldn’t be back until