side of town, but it had gotten very creepy there. Now this area was getting creepy, too.
Lazar looked back toward the cops.
“Do your duty, boys,” he said.
“You there!” one of the cops yelled at the vagrant. “What are you up to?”
The vagrant glanced upwards at the group on the tracks.
“Just picking up bottles and cans, officer,” he said.
“Don’t you know you’re trespassing on railroad property?” The second cop said.
“So, put me in jail,” the bum said. “It’s got to be better than living outdoors.”
“Everybody has an attitude these days,” Lazar muttered.
He called down to the bum.
“All right, get going, but try not to get run over by a train!”
“Thanks.” The vagrant tipped his battered cap. “I wouldn’t walk much farther that way if I was you, sir. There’s something very strange down there.”
He shuffled off, his trash bag flung over his shoulder, like some tattered Santa Claus.
“What was that all about?” Lazar said.
“He’s just got the alcohol jitters,” Bascomb said. “He probably hasn’t been sober in years.”
Bascomb and the police officers laughed; Mayor Lazar joined in, trying to sound relaxed and confident. But he didn’t feel relaxed. If the truth were told, he was getting a bit jittery himself now.
There had been something about the vagrant’s manner that was more than just drunken hallucination. The man had seemed very clear-headed, actually. Lazar glanced back at the city hall. He wanted nothing more than to return to his office and put his fancy shoes up on the desk.
But if he turned back now, he’d look like a real jerk in front of the cops. Word would get around. A lot of people in Allendale already thought Lazar was a jerk, there was no sense making things worse for himself.
“Let’s go,” he said.
They walked on for several more minutes. As the Tire Giant drew closer, Lazar began to feel very uncomfortable. He loosened his necktie and mopped a handkerchief over his wide face. Maybe that bum was right – things were getting to feel strange.
He glanced at Bascomb and the two cops. Judging by their tight mouths and stony faces, they were feeling something peculiar, too. This was some cold comfort, anyway.
Ahead, a large wooden spool lay on its side in the middle of the road. It had once contained power cables or phone lines but was now empty and discarded. Stones were piled on it in a little pyramid, and something orange stuck out of it like a flag.
A minor mystery. Lazar didn’t like mysteries, and he thought it best to solve them himself before anyone else did.
“Wait here, everybody,” he said. “Take a little break.”
5. An Astonishing Find
Lazar shuffled down the embankment, sending a mini avalanche of stones before him. Down on the road, close to the dense shrubs and trees, he could no longer see the Tire Giant, which was a relief. But the thing seemed to be exerting a cold power from behind the greenery – trying to push him away, somehow.
He approached the spool cautiously, as if it might contain a bomb. But all it had was the little pyramid. As he got closer, he could see that an envelope was sticking out from the stones. Lazar snatched it.
An odd picture was drawn on the front with black and yellow marker. It showed a circle with rays coming off of it – a sun symbol, obviously. Beside the sun was a quarter moon shape. Below these figures was a row of five vertical lines.
“What the heck?” the mayor said aloud.
Bascomb and the two cops glanced down toward him, then looked away again. They knew better than to show too much curiosity about the boss’s doings.
Do the sun and moon together indicate a full day? Lazar wondered. And the five marks underneath – do they mean five days?
This had to be some kids’ coded message game, the mayor decided. The little pests were always playing out here, no matter how you tried to discourage them. Heaven forbid if one of them ever got hurt! Their parents would sue everybody, including the city, then the papers would pick up the story and ...
The envelope bulged with something hard. It gave a peculiar tingle to Lazar’s hand, almost like a mild electrical shock. A jolt of uneasiness shot through him. He almost took off back to the tracks at a run.
But he soon calmed down. It was the tacky surroundings that were putting him on edge, right? And the envelope bulge was no doubt just a ‘magic token’ that some brat had left for his friends.
Mayor Lazar ripped the envelope open and dumped the contents into his palm.
“Good grief!”
He closed his hand into a tight fist.
Bascomb called down from the tracks: “Is something wrong, Mayor?”
“Uh ... no, everything’s ... fine,” Lazar managed to say. “Just wait there, I’ll be right back.”
He opened his hand slowly and looked down into it. A large diamond sparkled radiant blue in the sunlight. It had to be worth a fortune!
Mayor Lazar’s numbed brain snapped back into action. He had to think fast. Somebody, for some reason, didn’t want him to disturb the Tire Giant for five days, he figured. And this person was willing to pay a high price for the favor.
Well ... what was so strange about that? Such things happened all the time, didn’t they? Besides, if someone wanted such a modest favor, then surely it was only right to grant it.
He looked up at his companions. The two patrolmen were talking among themselves and smoking cigarettes, they couldn’t possibly suspect anything. Bascomb would have to be paid off, though, to make sure he kept his mouth shut.
How much would that cost, Lazar wondered? That depended on how greedy Bascomb was and how much the diamond was worth.
Lazar pocketed the gem and climbed back up to the tracks.
“Is everything okay?” Bascomb said.
“Yeah, just some stupid kids’ trick,” Lazar said, amazed at how steady his voice was. “It gave me a little surprise.”
He turned to the cops.
“Thanks for coming out, boys. You can go now.”
“Yes, sir.”
They crushed out their cigarettes and began walking back toward the city hall.
“Aren’t we going to check things out, Mayor?” Bascomb asked.
“Not yet,” Lazar said. “I need to do some research first. It should take me ... five days or so.”
Lazar could almost hear the wheels turning in Bascomb’s mind as he turned over this information and calculated how much he could charge for keeping it secret.
“What do you want me to do?” Bascomb asked.
“Have your men keep an eye on the tracks,” Lazar said, “stop people from nosing around. And put that bum in jail for a week, like he wants.”
“Okay.”
“If anybody asks questions, especially the State cops, just tell them we’re working on it and will get back to them first thing next week,” Lazar said.
Bascomb was confused, but he figured that there must be some benefit for himself in all this. It wouldn’t be the first time that he and the mayor had covered up an inconvenient fact or two – like the time they’d let that gambling club operate long after they should have closed it down, or when they overlooked the building code violations of well connected business pals.
“Let’s go to my office and talk this over,” Lazar said.
The two men headed back toward the city hall and the comfortable world of the ‘good old boys’ network.
6. To the Park
The fun has gone out of the bike ride, and things are very quiet now, except for the light glumph, glumph of Old Reliable’s front tire rubbing against the fork. Nobody feels like talking, not even Melissa. This suits me fine, considering the level of conversation we’ve had all morning.
Well, at least the big race is finished. I suppose Melissa won by default, but I’m not about to offer congratulations. She can be a real jerk sometimes. I mean, eit
her she’s in Quentin’s club or she isn’t – why try to make him look bad?
We ride on for miles, to the far north end of town where I’ve never been before except in a car, and I’m getting plenty tired. Melissa leads our expedition now, while Tommy and I ride side by side behind her. Quentin looks very depressed bringing up the rear.
Lots of people are out cutting lawns, washing cars and stuff. Groups of kids play ball in the street. Some of them recognize Quentin, but he doesn’t stop to talk with them. I get the feeling that he wants to avoid people as much as possible.
Clouds move in, followed by a light rain, so everybody disappears indoors. The world becomes suddenly under populated and a bit spooky. Then the paved street disappears altogether, replaced by pot-holed dirt. Melissa leads us onto the sidewalk.
We bump along uneven concrete squares with weeds poking up between them. This neighborhood has fewer houses than ours does, along with many vacant lots. For a long stretch, a towering, overgrown hedge grows along the sidewalk. We ride past it, keeping to the far edge of the pavement.
Pickery branches reach out for us like claws. At other places, high wooden fences come right up to the border of the sidewalk. What lies behind them?
A retreat back toward home seems wise, but Melissa squashes that idea even through her precious bike is getting wet.
“We’re not going to have a little drizzle stop us, are we?” she says.
She is riding with her nose stuck up so high that I think she’s going to drown in the raindrops. But the weather doesn’t improve, not even with Melissa in charge. The bursts of rain keep getting longer, while the dry times between them get shorter. Finally, near the edge of town,