Indian Summer (13 page)

I
T 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 begin 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.

A
T BREAKFAST
S
ATURDAY
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.”

“S
O
, 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 together, 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?

K
AITLYN 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 …

In the water she bobs up and down with the waves as she sorts out the rope and gets situated on the board. She signals that she is ready to go, and Kyle starts to accelerate. You start on the kneeboard lying on your stomach and then pull yourself up after you get up to speed. Once she is kneeling on the board, she fastens the strap over her thighs. She can go in and out of the wake pretty easily, but
the most fun is spinning around on the board. It helps to wear ski gloves so you don’t tear up your hands on the rope—the kind that don’t have fingers. First Marcie pulls the rope handle into her chest and holds it with one hand. Then she turns in the opposite direction from that hand with her knees, pulling the rope handle close into her back and literally skiing backwards, with her hand holding the rope behind her back. She grabs the handle with her other hand, lets go with the first hand, and finishes the turn so that she is facing forward again. It all happens very fast, and if you are good you can turn circles one way and then another or spin really quickly in one direction. Marcie hasn’t gotten quite that good yet. One or two turns is about all she can do.

When Marcie returns to the boat, Kyle brings up the Sunday Regatta. “I don’t think we should race in the Regatta this weekend. We don’t want to tip our hand to the competition too soon. We all have enough racing experience that I’m not concerned about our first real race together being the 4th Regatta. What do you guys think?” They all agree that it will be fine to skip the race on Sunday, although Marcie doesn’t know why it would matter. Lots of people race in weekend regattas. She thinks winning the race may be a little more important to the others than it is to her.

Conner goes out next on the slalom ski. Kaitlyn and Marcie are sitting together in the front of the boat, but they are still spotters for Conner. Kaitlyn says, “We saw the article in the paper this morning about my dad’s development in James Woods.”

“You did?” Marcie says in a small voice. She had been waiting to see if Kaitlyn would mention it.

“We didn’t even know he was planning to build houses there. He always has some kind of deal he’s working on.”

“Was he mad about the article?” Maybe he was just acting like he wasn’t mad with her and her dad.

“No, he just laughed about it. He says there’s always someone who wants to try and stop progress. Why do you want to stop him from developing James Woods? It’s just trees and reeds. My dad says they’re going to keep part of it as a walking and biking trail.”

“It’s our special place. It’s one of the last natural parts of the shoreline left.” Marcie finds it hard to express to Kaitlyn exactly why they’re opposed to the development. “James Woods has always been there, even before my grandfather was a kid. It just doesn’t seem like we need any more luxury homes on the lake.” Even to Marcie’s ears, it sounds kind of lame. She doesn’t want to say that building really expensive homes makes the lake more exclusive and unavailable to anyone but wealthy people. The
Swyndalls are just the kind of people who could buy those homes.