“Mom says they will have a team start excavating sections of the mound in the spring. She gets to be in charge of the dig—and she can make sure they do it carefully, without harming the mound.” Marcie puts her forearms on the fence and rests her chin on her arms.
“You know,” Al says thoughtfully, “it’s thanks to you that James Woods was saved from development.”
“I just found it; mom and all the archaeologists from the university took over after that. Once they were certain it was an Adena mound, it was pretty easy to convince Mr. Swyndall into establishing it as a park. He got the grant money that built the wall and drained this section of the bay.”
“It was pretty incredible that you found it at all. And that you found me in the bay. I often think about that.” He glances over at her. “You never really told me how it happened.”
“I can’t explain it, but I knew you needed help.” She cocks her head to one side and shrugs. “I heard Pansy barking, and it was like she was calling me. Like something was guiding me to the bay. And when I climbed out of the boat, I was standing on the mound.”
“I’ve always thought there was something special about these woods,” Al says, looking around him.
She turns and looks into his wise old eyes for a long moment. “Well, I think we can definitely say that you were right.”
MARCIE CUTS THE power on the little trolling motor and lets the row boat glide up to the Swyndalls’ dock. None of their boats are in the water now. They’re all shrink-wrapped and stored for the winter. Since Marcie’s grandparents live here year round, they leave their boats in the water longer, but this morning, after the family took one last boat ride, Poppy drove the pontoon over to the boatyard to be hauled out and stored. Only the row boat is left, as it can be hauled out by hand and left on the shore before the lake freezes over.
The back door of the house opens and Kaitlyn emerges, hurrying down the path and onto the dock, her sneakers thudding on the wooden planks.
“I’m so glad you’re here this weekend!” she exclaims as she climbs in the front of the boat. “My mom’s had me working all morning to close up the house for the winter. Let’s get out of here before she finds something else for me to do.”
“I thought you’d have a service close up for you,” Marcie says, as she starts the motor and maneuvers away from the dock.
“My mom’s pretty picky about her stuff. She likes to do it herself.”
“I can see how she would be that way,” Marcie flashes a smirk at Kaitlyn.
“Hey, watch it, it’s not like your family’s perfect either,” replies Kaitlyn.
“That’s for sure!” laughs Marcie easily.
“I thought Sara was coming with you this weekend.”
“She was, but something came up with her family and she couldn’t make it.”
“You know, I was thinking that next summer we should have a girls’ weekend up here. You can invite Sara and some of your friends, and I’ll invite some friends.”
Marcie steers the boat in a slow loop around James Bay, past the new retaining wall around the Adena mound. She gets a warm glow of satisfaction seeing the mound and the woods from the water and knowing they are safe and that she had a part in it. She puts the boat in idle and lets it gently drift with the current.
“That’s a great idea.” After a moment’s hesitation, she adds, “What do you think about getting a team together for the Regatta next summer?”
“Are you sure you want to be on a ‘Laker’ team?” Kaitlyn asks with a slightly mocking tone. But Marcie can see that her smile is friendly.
“I raced with you all summer, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but you also ruined our chance to win the Regatta.”
“Are you still mad at me about that?”
“I was totally mad at you when it happened. After all the practicing we did, and we were in the lead when you jumped! We were all really angry and disappointed at the time. But I’m over it. Actually, now I think what you did was awesome. It took guts. And I don’t just mean diving off the boat. My dad thinks what you and Eric did about the woods was pretty cool, too.”
“He does? But it stopped his project.”
“Yeah, I know, but he’s funny about that kind of thing. He respects people who ‘stick to their convictions.’” Kaitlyn makes quotation marks in the air, then she throws her hands up and sighs. “Let’s not talk about my dad all afternoon. It’s our last boat ride of the season!”
Marcie turns back and engages the motor. She feels a smile forming at the corners of her mouth. When she jumped off the boat to help Al, she did it instinctively because it was the right thing to do. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. Yet she can’t help but be pleased that she has earned Kaitlyn and Mr. Swyndall’s respect, too.
As the little boat picks up speed, they leave the Adena mound and the woods behind them. When the boat passes the mouth of the bay, Marcie opens the throttle wide and they skim across the surface of the lake to open water, two girls enjoying the day, hair streaming behind them, the warm sun on their backs, and smiles on their faces.
About the Author
Tracy Richardson wasn’t always a writer. When her children started reading and she rediscovered all the books she loved as a child, she found herself developing stories of her own and began writing novels for children.
Images from her childhood growing up on Lake Michigan and the landscape of Indiana feature prominently in her novels, and sometimes bits and pieces of actual people and events—much to her children’s delight and dismay! She lives in the suburbs of Indianapolis with her husband and two children and their Jack Russell terrier, Ernie.
Visit Tracy online at www.tracyrichardson.wordpress.com.
Discussion questions for Indian Summer are available online at www.luminisbooks.com.
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