The library is in a red brick building one block off Main Street. The original library was in a converted Georgian-style house with white pillars and a veranda, but a modern brick and glass annex was added several years ago. The combination isn’t as strange as it sounds, but Marcie thinks it looks a little bit like the library sprouted wings off its backside where the addition flares out to surround a glass-enclosed atrium. It’s a bigger library than you might think a town of this size would need, but the summer crowd uses it often too. Marcie is glad, because it means they almost always have the currently popular books available. She loves the library and usually checks out more books than she could possibly read before the due date.
Walking up the sweeping staircase and through the front door, she takes the first right into the young adult section. They have a number of books displayed on a table in the center of the room surrounded by comfy couches for reading. She stops at the table to peruse the books, as they are probably newer releases that she hasn’t read yet. A few seem interesting, so she reads the jacket cover and inside flap, and selects three to check out.
After checking out her books at the circulation desk, she passes a large map of Lake Pappakeechee and the surrounding area on the wall. She stops to look at it more closely and sees that it has the locations of Native American sites in the area as well as the trading routes used by Native Americans when they lived here. Lake Pappakeechee isn’t the only lake in the region, but it is the largest. There are many smaller lakes, and most of them are connected by rivers and marshes. Most of the sites on the map are from the Miami tribe, but there is one that is noted as an Adena site, located on the shore of the largest river in the area. It is almost at the edge of the map. It shows an area with three circles in a line. A dotted line is drawn down the centers of the circles, connecting them, and there are dotted lines bisecting the centers of each circle in diagonal directions. She hadn’t even thought about looking anything up about Native American sites—until now. Something about the Adena circles makes her think. Turning around, she approaches the librarian at the Reference Desk.
“Excuse me, do you have any books about the Adena Indians from this area?” Marcie asks the librarian. She notices that her name tag says MISS ROBINSON.
“Let me see.” She lifts the glasses hanging on a beaded chain around her neck and places them on the bridge of her nose before turning to her computer. “Is that spelled A-D-E-N-A?” She types rapidly on the keyboard.
Marcie nods and answers, “Yes.”
The librarian peers more closely at the computer screen. “It looks like we do have a small section with the other books on local history.” Miss Robinson turns her gaze to Marcie again. “We also have a small display case with items found by locals—mostly arrowheads and pottery shards and the like. I’m not sure that any would be Adena, though. I’ll show you the books and where the display case is located.” Marcie follows her over to the stacks. “The books should be in this section.” Miss Robinson indicates a section on the second shelf of one of the stacks. “And the display case is down at the end of the non-fiction section in the atrium. Let me know if you need anything else.” Her skirt flares out as she turns and walks briskly back to the reference desk.
Marcie looks at the titles of the books and sees that only three are relevant, so she brings them all to the table at the end of the shelves. Taking off her backpack, she places it against the table leg. The first book she selects is titled Mysteries of the Adena People. She opens the book and sees an artist’s drawing of a circular mound of earth with Native American people sitting on the mound facing a man standing at one end with his arms in the air. He must be a chief or priest, judging by his more elaborate dress. Marcie can hardly believe her eyes. The picture is strikingly similar to the vision she had in James Woods. With shaking hands, she turns the page and begins skimming the first chapter. It says, the Adena Indians, or “Mound Builders,” were named after the farm in Ohio where the first site was discovered. The farmer called the property Adena, which is a Hebrew word meaning “beautiful land.” They are identified with mounds they built out of earth. The mounds were aligned with the rising and setting points of astrological bodies and were often used for ceremonial purposes. The ceremonial mounds are sometimes called “sacred circles” by archaeologists. On the next page is a list of more than 50 astrological alignments that one of the mounds studied by archaeologists was found to predict. The right hand side of the page has a drawing similar to the one on the map on the library wall—three circles in a line bisected by dotted lines. The dotted lines show how the mounds are aligned with celestial activity. Just like Stonehenge, Marcie thinks. The Summer Solstice Sunrise and Moonrise, the Equinox Sunrise and Moonrise, and the movements of many other stars, planets, and constellations are on the list. She doesn’t even know when the Equinox is during the year, and these people kept track of it by building a mound of earth! The book also says the mounds are often found near rivers or bodies of water. That fits with what she saw too. The mound had been on the shore of a lake, maybe Lake Pappakeechee. But Bob at the zoning office said there aren’t any Native American sites on the lake. Sacred circles and celestial bodies … Marcie shivers, but not from the air conditioning.
Closing the book, she gets up from the table, and walks past the non-fiction section and down a ramp to the atrium. The two-story space is open on three sides to the library stacks. She looks for the display table and sees it positioned next to the low wall surrounding the atrium. Sunlight streams in from the glass wall at the far end of the room and reflects off the glass top of the case.
The artifacts are arranged on beige felt under the glass with labels showing where they were found. She’s surprised to see that a lot of arrowheads and pottery shards were found in James Woods. Then her eye is drawn to something in the corner of the case … a copper bracelet. Her breath catches in her throat. An image from her memory of the dark-haired girl wearing a copper bracelet flashes through her mind. The label says it was found in James Woods. She grips the sides of the table to steady herself.
The wooden side of the table feels loose in her hand. Looking down, Marcie sees that it is hinged on the bottom like a door. She pushes against the wood and it folds open, revealing the artifacts inside. Someone must have forgotten to lock it. The bracelet is resting right at the edge of the felt. She could easily touch it. Her hands are sweating now, and she wipes them on her shorts. She quickly looks around and sees that no one is watching her. Tentatively, she reaches for the bracelet. Her fingers touch the cool metal and … nothing happens. She had been expecting something, like an electric shock, to surge through her. She slips the bracelet on her wrist. It feels cool against her skin. Its hammered surface sparkles in the sunlight. She removes the bracelet from her wrist and begins replacing it in the case, but at the last minute shoves it in the pocket of her shorts. Luckily, no one is nearby in the atrium to see her take it. She closes the side door on the case. She doesn’t really think about what she’s doing—that she’s actually stealing the bracelet. She quickly gathers up her books and checks out, mumbling replies to the librarian’s questions. She gets on her bike and rides home, her mind in a whirl.
IT ISN’T UNTIL later that night, after dinner, that Marcie allows herself to really think about the copper bracelet. Sitting on the window seat in the loft, she looks out at the night sky. The maple tree partially obscures her view, but she can see the stars winking in and out behind the leaves fluttering in the breeze. The bracelet is still in her backpack where she put it when she got back from the library. Marcie walks over to her bunk and retrieves it. She turns it over in her hands and then places it on her upper arm like the Indian girl wore it. She regards her reflection in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Was it a mistake to take it? She’s never stolen something before, and it’s giving her an uncomfortable feeling. What can the bracelet really tell her about the Native Americans anyway? As she is pondering this thought, she notices her image in the mirror be
gin to blur, and then, slowly, the room around her starts to fade away.
At first everything is dark, but she can tell she is outside. Gradually, as her eyes adjust to the darkness, she can make out her surroundings. Several fires are burning and she is kneeling with many other people in a circle. Her hands are resting in her lap on a leather tunic and the skin on her arms and legs is light brown. Around her arm is the copper bracelet. She has the strange feeling that she is looking through the eyes of the Native American girl and can sense her thoughts and feelings, but that she herself is still separate. The sky is absolutely covered with stars. Marcie has never seen so many stars before.
She realizes that she is sitting on a mound and notices that there are wooden poles set at intervals around the perimeter of the mound. The girl seems to be waiting in excited anticipation for something that is about to happen. Everyone is chanting quietly together and then at a signal from the man who the girl thinks of as the Holy Man, they all fall silent. Their attention is drawn toward one side of the mound where two poles are connected across the top with another pole. As they all watch, the full moon appears over the horizon perfectly centered between the two poles. As it rises, it becomes a huge orange globe suspended in the blackness of the sky, surrounded by brilliant stars. It’s a breathtaking sight. Marcie recognizes it as the harvest moon that rises in the fall. The gathered people let out a collective sound of joy, and the Holy Man begins chanting again. She senses the event has significance for these people for the changing of the season, the bounty of the harvest, and preparation for the winter ahead. It is a time for celebration.
She is so deep in the image that she doesn’t hear Eric coming up the stairs.
“What’re you doing?” he asks as he reaches the top of the stairs.
Startled back to the present, Marcie jumps and her heart starts pounding wildly. “Uh … nothing,” she says too quickly. Reflexively, she grabs the bracelet off her arm and starts to put it behind her back, but Eric snatches it from her and says, “What’s this?”
“Oh, it’s just a bracelet that … ah, Kaitlyn gave me.” She stutters and tries to grab the bracelet from him.
He holds the bracelet in the air just out of Marcie’s reach. “Sooo, why don’t you want me to see it and why are you acting so funny? Are you embarrassed to be accepting gifts from Kaitlyn?”
“I’m not acting funny, you just startled me, that’s all. I’m not sure that I’m going to keep it anyway. But I’m not embarrassed.”
Eric rubs the surface of the bracelet before tossing it back to her. “Whatever. It’s nothing special anyway.” He walks over to his side of the room, opens the drawer beneath his bunk and pulls out a sweatshirt. “Poppy is taking us night fishing if you want to go. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
“Yeah, I’ll go. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Eric swings around the newel post and down the stairs. Marcie sits down on her bunk and lets out a huge sigh. That was so dumb! Why did I act that way and call attention to the bracelet? He had taken her by surprise as she was seeing the tribal ceremony. The bracelet definitely has a connection with the people in her visions. She gets down on the floor and shoves the bracelet under the mattress at the foot of her bed. Her sweatshirt is hanging on a peg on the wall. She grabs it and goes downstairs to join the others.
Eighteen
AT BREAKFAST SATURDAY morning, all the talk is about the article in the paper on the Swyndall development and the interview with Al.
“I think the tone of the article is definitely in our favor,” Eric says, tapping his knife on the edge of his plate. “It says, The nature park, as it was initially promoted, is only a small part of what will eventually become an exclusive community of estate homes. The reporter doesn’t actually say that Swyndall lied, but does imply that the entire truth wasn’t told.” Eric pauses to take a bite of toast. “Al, your interview is great!” He uses his piece of toast as a pointer to indicate Al, who is standing on the patio outside the sunroom with Pansy. Aloud, he reads, “Local resident Al Depena says it would be a shame to develop one of the few remaining wild and marshy areas of Lake Pappakeechee. He also says, ‘I’ve lived here all my life and seen generations of residents use James Woods for recreation. The James family always welcomed use of the woods by all the lake residents. I’d hate to see it used exclusively for a privileged few.’ That’s right on target, Al. Hopefully it will get people to fight the project!”
“I just told them what I thought about the development. We’ll see whether it makes any difference.”
“They even mention the petition I’m taking around. Maybe I’ll go out again this afternoon and show people the article. It might get them to sign the petition and get more involved,” Eric says while buttering another piece of toast.
Mr. Horton arrived at the cottage the night before and is enjoying his coffee and newspaper on the porch. Looking at Marcie and Eric over the top of his reading glasses, he says, “I hope it doesn’t have too much of an impact. I have a tee time with Don Swyndall at 9:30. It’ll be pretty uncomfortable if he’s angry about what you kids are doing. Making enemies with the Swyndalls wouldn’t be great for my career. You might recall, he is the president of the university.”
“The kids are doing a good thing. It’s nothing more than the truth,” says Mamaw, as she stirs cream into her coffee. “People have a right to know what Swyndall is up to, even if it won’t stop the development. Money and power usually seem to get their own way.”
“That may be true, but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” says Marcie, pushing her hair behind her ears. “Look at Sara’s family. They have gobs of money, but they use it to do good things for our town. They donate money to all sorts of causes, and her dad works for an environmental watchdog group. Money is just money. It’s what you do with it that matters.”
“You’re right, Marcie. And don’t be too quick to judge the Swyndalls,” says Mr. Horton, folding his newspaper to the next page. “I happen to know that they are generous philanthropists, and Mr. Swyndall is president of a public university that provides higher education to thousands of students. Mrs. Swyndall is very active in the University Foundation, which is involved in many good causes.”
“It’s easier to believe they are bad guys for developing James Woods if I don’t know about those things. I guess it’s more complicated than that.”
“Yes, it is. Sara’s father may be doing a lot of good works with his money now, but he inherited it from his grandfather, and some people say his fortune was made in some less than respectable business deals.”
“I didn’t know that,” Marcie says quietly.
The ringing of the phone interrupts their conversation. Marcie jumps up to answer it. Coming back to the table, she says, “That was Kaitlyn. She wants me to go water skiing with her this morning. She didn’t say anything about the article, so maybe it isn’t a big deal. Dad, could you drop me off at their house?”
“Sure. We’d better get going soon if I’m going to make my tee time.”
“SO, I SEE you and your brother have been busy this week!” Mr. Swyndall claps Marcie on the shoulder. She and her Dad are standing in the entryway of the Swyndalls’ house.
“Oh, uh … yeah,” Marcie says hesitantly. She’s pretty sure he’s referring to the article about the development, but she doesn’t want to get into a discussion about it. She’s glad her dad is there.
“I saw the article in today’s paper.”
Mr. Horton quickly jumps in. “You know how kids can be, Don. They’re just sad to see James Woods go. They’ve played there for years. They may have gotten a little overzealous.”
“Oh, I totally understand. In fact, I respect them for it. The thing is, the new community represents economic development for the area, with new jobs and services. It’s progress. You’ll see.” He wags his finger in the air. “It’s a good thing for the area. We’re still planning a nature trail and a bike path for people to enjoy.” He pauses, rubs his hands to
gether, and looks from Marcie to her Dad. “Anyway, it’s a done deal. All the permits and approvals are in place. Now that everyone is aware of the estate home portion of the project, we can move ahead with that more quickly.”
That’s great, Marcie thinks. Now the development will happen faster! At least he’s not acting really mad. That would have been awful, especially for her dad.
“Well, we’re glad you’re not taking it personally, Don. They really meant no harm. I have to say, I’ll miss the woods myself. But I understand progress.” Marcie feels a little bit like her dad is selling out to Mr. Swyndall by making light of the whole thing. But then, what choice does he really have?
KAITLYN SIGNALS THAT she’s had enough after skiing two loops of the south end of the lake, let’s go of the rope, and sinks slowly into the water. Marcie calls out, “She’s down!” to Kyle. He slows down and turns the boat around to pick up Kaitlyn.
“Do you want to go next?” he asks Marcie, turning in the driver’s seat to look at her.
“Sure. I think I’ll use the kneeboard though.”
Kyle has turned out to be a pretty nice guy, Marcie thinks, as she pulls the kneeboard from the side of the boat. At least when he’s not being snobby about the Townies and the Regatta. She goes to the back of the boat to help Kaitlyn. “Hand me up the ski,” she says. “I’m going to use the kneeboard. You were great out there!”
“Thanks. The water is just right—not too wavy. It’s a good thing we came out early, before the other boats make it too choppy.” She hands Marcie the ski and pulls down the stairs at the back of the boat. Marcie stows the ski in the side of the boat, and Kaitlyn climbs aboard dripping water onto the floor. Sitting on the back of the boat, Marcie fastens her life jacket and climbs down the ladder into the water. Kaitlyn hands her the knee board and raises up the ladder. Marcie likes the kneeboard and has mastered a few tricks and turns on it. As the name implies, you kneel on the board with a strap across your thighs. She’s also a very good skier, but it’s fun to try something different. She hasn’t tried wakeboarding yet, which is somewhat similar to snowboarding, where you stand on a board with your feet fastened into boots. You can do jumps and turns and even flips. Maybe next summer for that …
Indian Summer Page 10
