ThatiswhyIamcallingontheSeptimus

Lodgetoopenitsrecordstothepublic.Andiftheywillnotdosovoluntarily, thenIamcallingontheBurlingtonCountyDAandthestateattorney

generaltoinitiatelegalactiontoforcethemtodoso.Whathavetheygotto hide?”

Jack turned to his father. “Do you real y think the Lodge has anything to do with—?”

Dad shrugged. “How can I answer that? Nobody except its members knows anything about the Lodge—and there, I believe, lies the crux of Toliver’s

little tirade.”

“He doesn’t like secrecy?”

“No. I think he’d love the Lodge’s secrecy if he was in on it, but he’s not. They gave him a thumbs-down when he tried to join and I don’t think he’s ever

forgiven them.”

That surprised Jack. “But, like you said, he’s a big-shot real estate guy. I’d think they’d wanthim.”

Dad shrugged again. “Everything about that Lodge crew is odd. Membership is by invitation only. But they’re not like some exclusive country club that

admits only folks of a certain religion and a certain color with a bank account of a certain size. They’ve got whites, blacks, yel ows, Jews, Catholics—you

name it. Rich, poor, and everything between.”

“Then what was wrong with Mister Toliver?”

“Who knows?” Dad smiled. “Maybe they don’t like his comb-over.”

Jack wasn’t sure if asking might embarrass his dad, but he needed to know.

“Did you ever try to join?”

“Me? Nah! They tried to rope me in back in the early seventies—used a ful -court press—but I wasn’t interested.”

Jack stared at his father in shock. “They asked you?”

Dad laughed. “What? You say that like you think there’s something wrong with me.”

“No … I just … I don’t know … you never said anything.”

“What for? We went ‘round and ‘round for about a year, them asking, giving me tours of the Lodge—”

“You’ve been inside? What’s it like?”

“A lot of old furniture, odd paintings, and that strange sigil everywhere you look.”

“What’s a sigil?”

“Their seal—the thing over their front door. They must love it because it’s on everything.”

Jack shuddered. “Yeah, even its members.”

“Oh, so you heard about that.”

“Yeah. That dead body we found had one, and I saw it on Mister Sumter’s back after they gave up trying to revive him. Burned into their backs—ugh!”

“If that’s part of being a Lodge member, they didn’t mention it to me. But let me tel you, even if I’d wanted in, that would have changed my mind. That

would have been a deal-breaker.”

“I can’t believe you turned them down. They say anybody who’s somebody is a member.”

Dad smiled. “Wel , maybe I’m as much a somebody as I want to be. Besides, it’s easy to say anybody who’s somebody is a Lodger because no one

knows their membership. They’re secretive as al hel about that and everything else. I mean, if an individual member wants it known that he belongs, he’s

free to tel anybody who’l listen. But if not, it remains a secret guarded like Fort Knox.”

Jack shook his head. “But I stil don’t see why you didn’t join.”

Dad shrugged and headed back toward the kitchen.

“It’s a secret society. Too many secrets can wear you down.”

Wearyoudown?Jack thought after he was gone. Did that mean hehad secrets? How many?

9

“That’s gotta be the suckiest game ever made,” Steve said as they walked through the growing darkness.

“I thought the Pac-ManI got last year was bad,” Jack said, shaking his head, “but this was even worse.”

He and Steve had spent the last couple of hours on Eddie’s Atari trying to make sense of his ET:TheExtra-Terrestrialgame.

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