could tell. The latest could always hold a surprise.
Mr. Rosen trained the beam on the doors.
“All right. Go ahead.”
Jack pulled on the knobs and swung the doors open to reveal …
Empty shelves.
“Bummer.”
The overhead lights came on just as the front door chimed. Jack went to see who it was. He found a black- haired man in a white suit standing by the counter tapping his silver-headed black cane on the floor. Eggers stood by the door.
“Mister Drexler,” Jack said, pretty much at a loss for anything else to say. “What are you doing here?”
“Why, I came for my tango lessons. Why else would I come to a shop called USED?”
“I?m … sorry?”
He smiled. “A terribly lame attempt at absurdist humor, I?m afraid. But you did ask a rather inane question.”
Jack thought about that, then nodded. “I guess I did.”
“I?m glad you see that. Please try to avoid such in the future.”
“I?ll do my best. Anything I can help you with?”
“Yes. I was passing by and remembered I?d been told you worked here.”
Uh-oh. Had he found someone else to do the Lodge?s lawn?
“By who?”
“
The big man stepped forward and handed Mr. Drexler a white envelope, which he in turn handed to Jack.
“Circus passes. I can imagine few things less entertaining than a circus, but I?m sure you?ll find
it enthralling. Share these with your acquaintances. But in the meantime, find me something …”
He looked around … “Entertaining.”
“Well …”
Another flash, another crash, and the lights went out again.
Just then Mr. Rosen arrived from the rear. He stopped when he saw Mr. Drexler. “I?ve seen you around town, haven?t I?”
Mr. Drexler produced a card seemingly from nowhere and placed it on the counter. As Mr.
Rosen reached for it, his sleeve rode up, revealing the numbers tattooed on his forearm. He saw Mr. Drexler staring at them.
“You?ve seen such before?”
Mr. Drexler nodded but said nothing.
“You?re too young to have been in the war, but what about your family? Which side?”
Mr. Drexler?s eyebrows rose. “My family does not fight in wars. At least not in the kind you mean.”
Mr. Rosen picked up the business card and studied it for a few seconds.
“An „actuator? it says. What exactly do you actuate?”
Mr. Drexler gave one of his thin-lipped smiles. “Whatever requires it.”
And now it was Mr. Rosen?s turn to stare—at Mr. Drexler?s black cane.
“That looks like it?s wrapped in leather.”
Mr. Drexler?s smile broadened. “Leather implies bovine origin.” He held up the cane for Mr.
Rosen to see. “Nothing so proletarian, I assure you. It?s trimmed with black rhinoceros hide.”
Mr. Rosen ran a finger along the rough surface.
“How unusual.”
“Yes, well, I?ve never had much use for the usual.”
Jack noticed a squiggle atop the silver head.
His gut clenched. He was almost sure it was one of the symbols carved on both the big and little pyramids. He had a copy of all seven symbols hidden in his bedroom. He wished he could run home and check it out.
“You want to sell it?”
Mr. Drexler pulled the cane back. “Most certainly not. This
belonged to my father. He too was an actuator.”
After another flash and rumble, Mr. Rosen said, “Looks like we?ll have no power for a while.
I?m afraid I?ll have to close up.”
Mr. Drexler nodded. “Very well. Some other time, then.”
He walked out. As the door closed behind him, Jack peeked into the envelope: four passes to the Taber circus. How did Mr. Drexler come by these? Was there a connection between the circus and the Septimus Order?
“You can?t ride your bike in this,” Mr. Rosen said. “I?ll drive you home.”
“Thanks, I—”
He spotted Weird Walt signaling to him through the front window. Jack stepped out to see what he wanted.
Walt wore his uniform of jeans, T-shirt, olive-drab fatigue jacket, and black leather gloves. No one Jack knew had ever seen him without those gloves. Word was he even ate dinner with them.
He had a gray-streaked beard, and today he?d tied his long dark hair back in a ponytail, giving him a definite hippie look. His eyes had their customary semi-glaze from applejack. He?d been a medic in Vietnam and had spent time in a V.A. mental hospital after the war. He?d supposedly starred in a faith-healing tent show until he got kicked out for his drinking. A few years ago he landed at his sister?s house here in Johnson.
“Hey, Jack.”
“Hey, Mister Erskine.”
He smiled through the beard. “It?s Walt—you know that.”
“Okay.” Jack had trouble calling a guy nearing forty by his first name. “Looking for anything special?”
“Yeah, in a way. Came to give you a warning—you and Weezy.”
Uh-oh.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Stay out of the Pines for a while.”
Jack didn?t know how to take that.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you and her—especially her—like to go traipsing around in the Barrens, and I heard about you two finding that lost guy, which is all well and good, but not around the equinox.”
Right. The autumnal equinox was sometime this week. But …
“Why not?”
“Things get a little crazy in there with the fall equinox. It?s due on Wednesday, but the hinges start to loosen a few days before, and don?t get back on track until a few days after. I was in there yesterday and I could feel it getting strange. Couldn?t you?”
Jack shook his head as he shrugged. “No.”
He wondered if Walt might have been feeling an excess of applejack.
“Well, anyway, just do yourselves a favor—me too, „cause I like you kids. Haven?t forgot how you took my back last month. Stay outa there till next week, understand?”
Jack straightened and saluted. “Understood.”
Walt returned the salute, then said, “You?ll tell Weezy, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
