“Right there.” He pointed to the area near the pier where the water was shallow. “I did the pencil jump,” he whispered. “And my foot got caught on it.” He stammered and looked around for his mother, who was always yelling at him to be careful.
Megan took the metal object from Ted. “I think I know what it is.” She squinted in an ominous way. “I think it’s a horse’s bit,” she said. “From the horse in the legend.”
They huddled in close as they passed around the newfound treasure, an expression of awe on their faces. In hushed voices they agreed that yes, it certainly looked like a horse’s bit and appeared to be very old. Yes, it could be from the horse in the legend. More mention was made concerning tetanus shots. Adam kept shaking his head and saying over and over he didn’t get cut.
“What’s this about a horse’s bit?” The woman wearing the wide-brimmed sun hat, Sara’s mother, stepped forward. She had obviously been eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Didn’t you ever hear of the legend?” Megan asked.
Caroline hit Megan in the arm as a way of shutting her up. The mention of the legend, something the kids talked about in private, wasn’t something a newcomer to the lake would have heard about. Heil and many of the other members of the lake association forbade anyone to talk about it and scolded kids when they did. The legend brought back bad memories, a link to a past drowning most people wanted to forget. Any mention of the legend between Caroline and the younger kids was discussed in the privacy of clubhouses and dugouts, places where parents were nowhere to be found. But Sara’s mother appeared amused. She squeezed her way into their circle and stood in front of Megan.
“Go on,” she said to Megan.
An uneasy silence fell over the group. Other sounds were magnified: a duck flapping its wings, the water lapping against the pier, the sound of a pinball machine inside the Pavilion.
“We’re not supposed to talk about it,” Adam said, and glared at Megan. “Besides, I found it and I want it back.” He reached for the bit, but Megan held her arm up so he couldn’t get it.
“It’s his, Megan,” Ted said, and tried to pull her arm down. The two danced around in a game of Keep Away.
“Hold on.” Sara’s mother pulled Ted and Megan apart. She took the horse’s bit from Megan’s hand. “Tell me what you know about it.”
Everyone but Megan stared at their feet.
“A long time ago, like, I don’t know, in the early 1900s,” Megan said, “they used to cut the ice on the lake for refrigeration and stuff. But one time the ice cracked and a horse and carriage fell through. Legend says the horse and driver drowned, and their bodies were never found. On certain nights during a full moon some believe you can hear a horse whinny.” She lowered her voice. “Others claim they’ve heard the sound of the horse’s hooves clip-clopping across the ice.”
“And you think you found the bit from this horse?” Sara’s mother’s thin eyebrows raised and disappeared underneath her sun hat.
“Maybe,” Adam said, and wiped his hands where the rust from the metal had stained his skin orange.
Everyone stopped talking when Adam’s mother crossed the beach to where they were standing. “Hi, I’m Betty, Adam’s mom,” she said to the young woman.
“I’m Patricia.” Sara’s mother stuck out her hand.
“It’s mine, Mom,” Adam said. “I found it.”
“What is it?” Adam’s mother asked.
Patricia handed the metal piece to her. “The kids were just telling me about the lake legend.” She smiled as though she had conspired with them, and tilted the wide-brimmed sun hat just so.
“Were they now?” Adam’s mother wasted no time and jumped in to explain that the legend was a myth told around campfires. “Something the kids made up a long time ago and nothing more than folklore.”
“Is that so?” Patricia looked at Caroline as though she just now recognized her. Then she eyed the rest of the kids. She looked all around them and past Adam’s mother as though she were searching for something. She continued looking around the beach, turning in circles.
Adam’s mother gave the bit back to him. “Take this to Mr. Heil. It’s his beach, and whatever it is, it belongs to him.”