where I’l never be a member—but so what? We’ve known each other forever, Weez. You are who you are. You’re Weezy Connel , the smartest and also
the strangest person I know. Yeah, I don’t get you, but I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
She dropped the stick, hopped off the bench, and walked maybe a dozen feet away. She kept her back to him but he noticed her chest heaving, as if
she was sobbing, or maybe holding sobs back.
What’d I say? he thought.
He’d been trying to make her feel good but he guessed he’d screwed that up. Would he ever learn how to talk to a girl?
Watching her made him uncomfortable so he stared at the ground where she’d been doodling with the stick. He noticed with a start that they weren’t
random scratchings—they looked an awful lot like the pattern etched on the inside of the mystery cube. The longer he looked, the more convinced he
became. Had she memorized it? But then he remembered how Weezy had told him she had a photographic memory.
Suddenly two black-sneakered feet stepped into view. Jack looked up to find Weezy’s face only inches from his. She kissed him on the lips. Not a long
kiss. Barely a second. But her lips were soft and their touch sent a shock through him.
And then it was over. She straightened and looked down at him. She was smiling but her face was blotchy and her eyes red.
“You’re the best friend anyone could have. I don’t deserve you.”
She stepped over to where her Schwinn leaned against the side of the bench. She swung her leg over the banana seat and looked at him.
“Come on, Jack. Don’t sit there like a lump. We’ve got to get you back to civilization.”
But Jack did sit there, total y confused. He’d upset her, but then she’d kissed him. Weezy Connel had kissed him. Not that he hadn’t kissed a girl before
—sometimes hanging out turned into making out—but this was Weezy.
Of course, it hadn’t been a make-out kiss, but stil … she’d kissed him. And the feel of her lips lingered against his.
Unable to sort out the strange mix of feelings bubbling within, he pushed himself off the bench and grabbed his bike.
They took a different way home. Weezy, who seemed to have this entire end of the Pine Barrens laid out in her head, led him along deer trails and
firebreaks he’d never seen before.
Al along the way he watched her butt.
Wel , what else was there to look at? As far as size went, it wasn’t much. Hard to tel what her baggy clothes hid. She was thin, he knew that, but curvy
thin or straight-up-and-down thin he couldn’t say. Either way, he found he liked watching her from the rear as she pedaled along.
Her shortcut back to Johnson led through Old Man Foster’s land and now things were starting to look familiar. When they came to the clearing with the
spong where they’d found the leg-hold traps, she skidded to a stop, turned to give him a surprised look, and pointed.
There in the clearing stood a lady in a long black dress and a scarf around her neck. She carried a bundle of sticks in one arm and was moving from
trap to trap, springing them with the sticks. Her three-legged dog stood by, watching.
Mrs. Clevenger.
Without hesitating, Weezy hopped off her bike and walked into the clearing. She seemed to believe in just about every kind of weirdness, but maybe
she didn’t believe in witches—or maybe she didn’t believe Mrs. Clevenger was one. Jack wasn’t so sure about that, but he fol owed anyway. The dog
watched their approach but made no move toward them.
“Hi,” he heard Weezy say as she neared.
Mrs. Clevenger looked up. She didn’t seem surprised to see them. Jack had a strange feeling this old lady didn’t surprise easily.
“Hi, yourself, Weezy Connel .”
She took a stick from the bundle in her arm and jammed it into a nearby trap. It snapped shut, breaking off the end. She used the broken tip on a
neighboring trap. When this one snapped closed, it trapped the stick. She abandoned it and grabbed another.
