 
### Come Home

By

Sheila S. Jecks

Copyright 2016 Sheila S. Jecks

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free book. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

Disclaimer

This story is not meant to insinuate anything, about anyone, any ethnic group or any time period. It is mostly fantasy, and one or two small references to information taken from the Newspapers of Quebec and Ontario. However, I would like to thank the First Nations Web site I found for the wealth of general information I found there. This is just for entertainment, and I mean no disservice to anyone.

Prologue

"Who called this meeting?" one of the ancient medicine men asked, no one answered. They were all told to attend; no one could ask why.

After the allotted time, a hush came over the group. The big doors at the end of the room opened and a group of dressed and painted warriors entered. Behind them, by himself, was a small man robed in the old Algonkin medicine man's Bearskin robe and Eagle feathers.

The painted warriors sat down in a circle in the middle of the room. The medicine man stood in the centre.

He pulled his medicine robe high about his shoulders and began to chant, a faraway howl was heard, it swirled around the room and the sound increased.

Sweet scented smoke seeped into the room and sat on each of the First Peoples shoulders. The warriors began to chant, until one by one, they stood up and began to dance.

As the sun set in the west, the song grew and grew until it filled every chief and medicine man and they too began to dance.

They danced with the wolf that was circling the floor, his desire became their desire, his will became their will, they became one!

Chapter One

"All right, tell me that again, sir," said the young Mountie who was writing everything down that early spring day in 1989.

Even though it was before noon, the locals' gathered around the RCMP cruiser. Not much happened in the sleepy little town of Merriweather, and this was going to be the first item in the gossip mill for weeks to come.

Bill Majors, the senior Mountie was an old friend of the town, the other a new recruit. They'd responded to the early morning emergency call from the towns' grocery store at the foot of Andover Lake.

"I told you already," said the shoeless man who was wearing a Tee shirt and pants.

"You know me, Bill," he said, turning to the senior Mountie. "I'm Jack McKinnon; my summer cabin is at the other end of the lake.

"My boat flipped over yesterday, it sank and all the groceries with it. I dog paddled to shore, broke into a cabin and burned some old curtains because I was so cold. There was an old quilt in one of the bedrooms and I rolled in it and slept in front of the pot-bellied stove. I walked back here to call you and my wife," he said, as he finally ran out of breath.

"Hold on; I'm going to be sick."

The on-lookers, who had inched closer to hear what happened, stepped back!

And, sick he was.

Dillon McPhee, the young Mountie, was new to the force. His boyish good looks belied the fact that he held a Black Belt in Martial Arts, and was First Runner Up in the Iron Man race last year in Penticton, BC. His soft brown curly hair hung down over his forehead and no amount of gel or hair spray would make it slick back the way he thought a tough Mountie should look. Friendly brown eyes the color of good dark chocolate made young women quiver and surprised the few offenders he'd encountered in his short career.

This was only the third time he'd taken notes.

He looked at the white-faced man sitting on the sidewalk with his head between his knees and turned to his partner for help. "I've never had an interview like this before," he said, and wasn't sure, should he be sorry for the man and let him recover or yell at him to get up and answer the questions.

Jack McKinnon didn't care; he sat unseeing, his head in his hands. What happened, he thought? How could he tell his wife Rikki and his five-year-old son Harry that Big Guy was gone?

Okay, he was only a dog, but he was a big part of the McKinnon family. Jack was confident the standard Rhodesian ridgeback would have protected his little family from everything.

His job at the _Jamison Copier/Scanner Company of BC_ , took him out of town for several days each month. As sales manager of the new Computer Department, Sales & Service, he made sure his staff serviced their out-of-town clients in a prompt and friendly way.

The big dog was a comfort to his wife and son when he was away. What are they going to do now, he thought, and his heart clenched in the tight grip of grief.

"Jack," said the Sergeant, "do you think you can stand now?"

"Oh yeah, I guess so. I have to call Rikki," he said as he clumsily got to his feet. "She'll be frantic; she's a big time worrier. How am I going to tell her the dog is probably dead, and the boat sank? It wasn't even that old, it was supposed to be unsinkable. It had foam in the entire hull... I've got to call my wife."

"Later Jack," said Bill Majors taking his cap off and running his hand through his thick black hair, "First I think we better check on the cabin you slept in last night. Do I remember you saying you know where it is? We didn't bring a boat so I made arrangements with the grocery store to borrow theirs. But before we leave, I want you to tell me again how you got back to Merriweather with no road on the east side of the lake and no boat."

"I told everything to the other Mountie, I haven't eaten since yesterday morning," he said as he stood shivering. "I'm thirsty; I need hot coffee and some food. Let me get some runners from the grocery store, my feet are so cold they're frozen. I'll tell you again when we're on the water, okay?" And he turned and walked towards the open door of the store.

"I have to call my wife," he said over his shoulder, "then I'll take you to the cabin, I'm pretty sure I can find it again. Then I'll show you where I found the railway tracks."

"You didn't mention railway tracks before."

"I told the other Mountie; I'd never made it back here without them."

"Okay," Bill Majors said, turning to his trainee, "were the arrangements I made for the boat okay?"

"Freddy said his dad said it was okay with him; just remember to fill it up with gas when we return it. I said we would."

They stood outside on the pavement and watched as Jack McKinnon disappeared into the grocery store, "I'll let him buy some shoes for his feet and get some coffee, where can he go? The key to his van is at the bottom of the lake. How's he going to get home? I'll bet he hasn't thought about that."

Bill Majors presented a flawless image of the perfect Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman. His steel blue eyes twinkled and laughed at most of what life handed him; yet, when needed, he was calm, resourceful and usually right.

Regulations required a minimum of two sessions a week at the local gym; it kept his shoulders broad, and his stomach flat. Physical standards were high even in the back woods. Bill Majors always hoped he'd get to the big city of Harrisburg someday and play a role in an extraordinary case.

What kind of story was Jack McKinnon selling here, he thought, as he walked back to the launching dock and watched his young partner expertly back the borrowed speedboat into the water. Andover Lake is glacier fed, a person would die of hypothermia before he went a half mile, and Jack said he swam from the middle of it? I don't think so.

"Hi Freddy," said Jack as he entered Merriweather's only grocery store. "Think you could rustle me up a big cup of coffee? And maybe a bun or sandwich, something I could eat on the boat?"

Next to the 'cash out' counter was a bin with a ' _Shoe Sale $3.00'_ sign. He poked around and finally found a pair of runners, size 13.

They were pink.

Oh well... "I'm taking these," he said, waving them in the air to show Freddy, the storeowners son, "put everything on my tab. I'm going to call my wife while I have the chance. Oh, and can you arrange for the garage to come and change my van's ignition, I lost all my keys in the lake but the door's unlocked. Tell them, just do whatever it takes, and I'll settle up when we get back. Tell them I'll pick up the key from you."

Jack turned and looked at the pay phone on the wall by the ice cream freezer; he really didn't want to make this phone call. He looked down at the floor and then up to the ceiling as though something up there would tell him what to say.

No words of wisdom from above or anywhere else...

I sure don't want to call home, he thought as he picked up the phone receiver and checked his pockets for change.

Was nothing going to go right?

Now he had to go back to the Check Out and get a quarter from Freddy.

* * * *

The grocery storeowner's son knew he wouldn't be going to University, he didn't mind. He knew he wasn't smart enough. But, with fiery red hair and freckles everywhere, he was 'a good kid' and everyone loved him. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he had a big heart.

And, he kept track of _everything!_

It was a good thing.

If you lost something in town or forgot to lock up or bring up the canoe when you left for the season. You could call the store and he'd go and take a look around, stash the things you left out, close any doors you left open and make sure everything else was battened down for the winter.

He was the one that had the idea to put a peg with folks' names on the back wall of the store. They were able to leave notes for each other, advertise things for sale and ask for wanted items. The area around the pegs became a way of talking to the neighbors, letting everyone know about an upcoming birthday party, anniversary or any Town news they wanted promoted.

D'Arcy's residents agreed, when they installed telephones in later years it took the close community feeling away. No more 'peg notes'.
Chapter Two

"Thanks for waiting Bill, I needed this coffee," Jack said as the speedboat gathered momentum and the noise got louder. They were going up lake to find the spot where his boat turned over.

"No problem, Jack," shouted Bill Majors over the throb of the speedboat, "but I need to see where you went down. When we come to it, there'll be some debris, things float. We'll check the shore on both sides too. Just in case. Your red ice chest must be floating; we'll find where ever it landed after the storm. There'll be something somewhere, I'm sure BG will be found too. Sorry about the dog though, he was a good one."

Jack turned away; he didn't want his friend to see the tears in his eyes. Poor Rikki was so upset; she didn't want to tell Harry his dog was dead, or even missing.

As he sat in the passenger seats behind the Mountie, he looked out the windshield, and tried to remember where he was when the wave hit.

It must have been huge, he thought. His boat was big, not a yacht, but at 19 ft., big enough.

The three men watched the water; nothing was floating. Nor was there anything in the lake debris they could see on the near shore.

They decided to go up the east side of the lake and return down the west. It made sense to cover both sides, you never knew with Andover Lake, it was 13 miles long and the wind blew from every direction.

"Must be getting close Jack, it's been quite a while, we're almost at your place."

"No, this isn't where it happened. I remember seeing the big snowy mountain on my right."

"A mountain with snow on it?"

"Yea, you know, up ahead."

"Take your time Jack, think about it, where is the big mountain with snow on it."

"What are you saying, Bill? I remember looking at it and thinking it was going to be cold at the cabin and a good thing I laid in extra wood before we left in fall. I remember clear as day."

"Look around Jack."

"It was getting dark early; I remember the haze on the water, and the big mountain coming up through it. There was lightening making the snow sparkle, and I remember thinking it looked kind of creepy."

"Look around Jack, which mountain?"

"This can't be why would I remember a mountain on my right if there wasn't one there? What's going on here?"

"We're almost at your place and there hasn't been a float cushion, bottle or anything, where do you think you were? Do you think maybe you were confused, and headed across the lake? That would account for the big snowy mountain, but I can't believe you wouldn't know where your cabin was, even if it was dark."

"I feel funny," said Jack, and promptly threw up over the side of the moving speedboat. Good thing they weren't going fast.

Good Boating Practice taught, don't throw up over the side of a travelling speedboat, it comes back in faster than it goes out.
Chapter Three

Rikki McKinnon with her young son in tow, knocked at the back door of her good friend and neighbor Carol Adler's home in the small town of Langley Township, just outside the city of Harrisburg.

"Hi there, come in, sit down, I'll make a cup of tea. Say, you look terrible," said Carol. Looking closer she saw the tension on the face of her pretty neighbor. Her long dark chestnut hair was usually neat; today it looked straggly and caught up in a floppy ponytail. Her eyes were red; you could see she'd been crying.

"I can't... I can't tell you right now."

"Are you alright? Have you been crying, what's wrong?"

"Can Harry watch the cartoons on your TV?"

Turning to her young son, she said, "You'll be a good boy, won't you Harry, don't touch the dials, just watch. Maybe Mrs. Adler can find you a cookie?"

Carol took the little boy by the hand and led him into the living room, sat him down and turned on the TV. "Okay Harry, is this the program you want to watch?"

"Yes, Mrs. Adler, thank you," he said his eyes glued to the Bugs Bunny cartoon on the screen.

Carol went back into the kitchen, took a package of cookies from the cupboard and put two on a plate. She got a tray from under the kitchen counter, put them and a small glass of milk on it, and took it back into the living room.

"Here you go, Harry, your mom and I are just in the kitchen."

"Okay..." he said as he picked up the first cookie and with his eyes still on the screen, he forgot everything except the action on the TV.

"Jack called an hour ago," said Rikki, her eyes filling with tears.

"And that's bad, because? I thought you couldn't wait to hear from him? What's wrong, trouble with the boat I bet? Is it going to cost that much to fix?"

"Boat's gone."

"What do you mean, gone? Did he sell it without telling you?"

"No, I mean it's gone, it's no more, it sank."

"Just sit still, I'll get you a glass of wine, I'll make it a big one."

She opened the fridge and took out the half bottle of white Riesling. When the two families got together to play cards, the boys always had a beer and the girls a glass of wine, it was good to have neighbors that were friends too.

Rikki sat at the kitchen table and began to cry in earnest.

Carol at five foot two inches was a little plumper and a little shorter than her friend. With curly blond hair and compassionate blue eyes, she looked younger than her thirty-three years.

She put the glass of wine in front of her neighbor, and patted her on the back before she sat down. "Have a sip; it can't be that bad, what did Jack say?"

"I can't ...(hiccup) I can't, oh Carol, I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Calm down, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's the matter. Did something happen to Jack?"

"No."

"Okay, something happened to the cabin?"

"No. I don't know what to do?" sobbed Rikki, "how can I tell Harry?"

"Get a grip; I don't know what you're trying to say?"

"Jack called, he said the boat sank, Big Guy didn't come up, and he almost drowned and he said he heard me calling him while he was in the water swimming."

"What are you saying, he was swimming? Jack told me he couldn't swim a long time ago, he could hardly dog paddle."

"He said I called him when he got cold and tired and wanted to quit. He said BG was with him in the water and even when they crawled out on the beach, he said, (hiccup) he said, he broke into a cabin he didn't know and burned the curtains and in the morning he walked back to Merriweather along the railway tracks. How could all this happen?

"I can't, I just can't, I can't tell Harry all this and that his dog is probably dead, too."

"You're not making much sense, slow down. Tell me again, what happened?" said her neighbor. "Get a grip. Jack is alive, the groceries don't matter, yes, it's too bad the dog drowned, but remember, Jack is okay, that's what's important. You can always get another dog. I know it won't be the same, but the new dog will be just as precious as BG.

"Be Strong!"

"You're right, I'm being selfish. I don't want our life to change, it's perfect the way it is, no, I mean the way it was!" The grieving wife took up her hanky and began to cry again. She knew she shouldn't tell Harry about BG until it was certain he was dead, and they found the body. This would be so hard. Her husband, her son, her dog, were perfect in her eyes. And... now, everything was going to change.

"Rikki," said Carol, "you're stronger than you think. Remember you have great memories and pictures of BG when he was a pup. Those were good times; help Harry remember them. Don't let him think there'll never be another dog in his life. Give it a couple of weeks and pick out another puppy. Life will go on. You'll see."

"Since when have you been Mrs. Know-it-All about pets, puppies and life in general?"

"Been there, done that."

"I didn't know?"

"The kids are in their teens now, and you didn't live here when some fool ran over our chocolate retriever. He was just a mutt from the pound, but we loved him. What a disaster. Their dad was going to go and shoot the drunk that ran over that dog. The kids cried for a month. I promised myself we'd never have another dog. Well, I was wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"Thank goodness my mom and dad came over and figured out what was going on. My mom took me aside and told me, just what I told you. It was hard, but in the end, we got over Max, and learned to love our little terrier just as much. Different dog other memories."

"Okay," Rikki said straightening her back and lifting her shoulders, "I have to go tell my folks. They don't know everything that's happened either, I just told them there was some trouble up at the cabin. I'm not going to tell Harry about BG, not until I know for certain."

"Not too worried about Jack?" Carol smiled. She knew Rikki was going to say he was a grown man and could look after himself. But she knew how much the dog meant to him, too.

Rikki went into the living room to retrieve her young son. He was still avidly watching TV as the 'Road Runner' ran off the cliff and fell to the bottom of the canyon. "He'll be O.K. won't he mommy?" said Harry, not sure if he should feel sorry for the squashed bird or laugh at him.

"I think I'll stop in and get some nice steaks," she said to her grinning neighbor while they stood at the backdoor. "Maybe we'll do them on the BBQ tonight; steak is one of Jack's favourite meals you know."

"You're just a big softy, Rikki McKinnon; don't forget a real cold bottle of beer."
Chapter Four

The grocery store's boat with the two RCMP and Jack McKinnon, slowly circled in the cold water of Andover Lake, if there was anything strange floating around, they would find it.

"I can't watch! What if we find BG's body today? I don't think I could handle that right now."

"Take it easy, Jack, the body won't float to the surface for at least two more days. He was a big dog, maybe seventy, eighty pounds. You know Freddy will get in touch with you when he's found."

"Maybe I could bury him in the trees out back, Bill. Down on the coast I know you can't bury pets on your property anymore, but if I don't tell you, you won't know," he said to his friend. "What the hell, that dog was family."

"Should I make another sweep?" asked the young Constable as they were going into a big turn for the third time.

"No, I think we better head back down lake. You're sure you haven't seen the cabin you slept in last night."

"I can't understand it, it was right there on the beach when BG and I crawled out of the water. I don't understand!"

"We'll go back and fuel up at Merriweather," said Bill, "then we'll look to see what's further to the south. The Indians say there's an old abandoned cabin on the west side by Scuff Peak. I think you were turned around Jack, and headed the wrong way. Anyway, we'll check it out."

"This just doesn't feel right to me," Jack said, "it was still light out when I left the dock; I knew which way I was supposed to go. I should have had lots of time to get there before dark."

"You know," he said, looking along the far horizon, "BG was antsy, he just couldn't lay still, he kept pacing back and forth. A boat like ours is, was, too small for much pacing, and when it got dark sudden like, he stood up and put his paws on my shoulders and looked at me. I yelled at him and told him to lie down. My god, how could that be the last thing I said to him?" Jack's eyes filled with unshed tears.

It was a quiet trip back to Merriweather to fill the gas tank, no sense taking the chance of running out.

Soon they were on their way to the southwest side of the big lake.

"The Xaali'pp Indians called the land around this end of the lake, 'N'quat'qua, never did find out what that means, but probably something to do with the mountains," said Bill, as he gazed at the majestic snow topped display.
Chapter Five

The three men began circling in front of Scuff Peak at the southwest end of Andover Lake; it was one of the biggest mountains in the Bendor Range and the most visible. And... snow still covered it.

"No, this doesn't feel right," said Jack, "I know I was headed up lake, I left Merriweather in the daylight around 4:00 pm, and no, I didn't have anything to drink. Unless you count the coffee Freddy sells in the store. That stuff will take the surface off paint if you let it sit."

That was a very lame attempt at levity, the tension in the boat was intense.

"Go a little closer to the shore over there," said Jack, "I walked to Merriweather along some railway tracks.

"I remember now; they're on the west side of the lake. But my place is on the east side, I can't believe how freaked out I feel."

The boat reduced speed and began a long slow curl to the right, it would bring them to the other shore and if they continued, to the far outskirts of Merriweather.

Jack was watching for the railroad tracks. He knew if he saw them, he'd know where he was last night.

But there were no train tracks to be found so close to the water.

"Let's try that again, Constable," said Bill, "go a little slower and closer to shore, the cabin may not be right on the lake. I've never been at this spot before, but I think this must be the place. Look at all the snow on that big mountain."

"There," said Dillon, the young Mountie who was driving, as he pointed with his free hand, "just to the left, I see a roof line."

"Where, oh, I see it now," said Jack. "Wow, how could I have found that cabin in the dark. I can hardly see it now and its only noon."

The two Mounties strained to see what Jack was looking at; it looked like dense bush to them. There was no visible path and not much beach.

"O.K. take us in, we'll have a look. There hasn't been anything on the water, not even a float cushion. Things don't sink this fast. We should have seen the boat even if it was below the water line. They build those boats to float, so where is it?" said Bill to his friend.

"Looks like it's a little shallower here," said the Sergeant, "pull up to the shore."

"I don't know if I want to look for the cabin. What if it's not there?"

"Bigger problem, what if it is?"

"Shit."

"He thinks there's a path here," muttered Dillon as he thrashed through the brush along the beach. His Sergeant told him to look for the path to the cabin. Well, they didn't actually see a whole cabin, it was just the roof and maybe it wasn't even a roof, just a branch that looked straight.

"I don't know," Jack said, "I'm not sure this is the place. I'm not sure of anything anymore. Hell, right now I can't even be sure of what I'm seeing. I'm going to look further along the beach, maybe something washed up."

As he walked the lakeshore, he saw where someone dragged a boat out of the water. You couldn't tell what kind, but it must have been big; it made a deep groove, and crushed some of the underbrush.

He followed the flattened scrub and called, "hey guys, I found a path. I bet it'll lead up to that cabin."

Jack walked with his head down. His eyes glued to the ground, following the trail of bare footprints in the damp earth, big dog paw prints followed behind.

Abruptly, he was standing in front of a small clearing, an old cabin stood on the side.

A small shed in back was an outhouse or storage at one time. He could also see the left over trappings of life, long ago. A pair of old-fashioned snowshoes, one bent and broken still leaned against a tree, a rotted out wooden bucket half buried in the dirt by a small open woodshed spoke of older times. Some grey lodge poles lay in a heap by the outhouse. Small trees and forest underbrush vied for space in the clearing.

Jack looked at the cabin door.

What's this!

Above the door, a carved white bone hung by an old rawhide cord. The carved human heads on each end were looking down.

Cautiously, he stepped up to the porch to look at the door and frame. They were pushed in, but he could see they were hanging by a nail.

The damage was new, the wood splinters still fresh and sharp!

"Where are you, Jack? I don't see a path," called the Sergeant, as he pushed through the brush still looking for the elusive trail.

Jack McKinnon was standing on the porch, his face white as a ghost. Unable to resist, he turned sideways, and slowly, carefully, stepped around the broken door and went inside.
Chapter Six

Rikki McKinnon sat in her car in front of her parent's home in Burnaby, BC and tried to calm herself. She knew she had to tell them that the boat sank and the dog drowned, no, probably drowned.

The more she thought about it, the harder it was to hold back the tears.

No sense getting Harry all worked up, she thought, dabbing fiercely at her eyes. I have to be strong I can do this!

Getting out of the car, she took her son and slowly walked up the steps and in the front door. In the Living Room, her father was just starting to read the Harrisburg Sun newspaper; he looked up and smiled at his favorite and only daughter.

"Hi mom," she called, "can Harry have a cookie?"

"Harry, do you want to eat your cookie outside on the swing?"

"I'll watch him, Rikki," said her mother. Is everything all right?"

"No."

Rikki went into the front room and sat down on the ottoman in front of her father and said, "I just heard from Jack, he told me the boat sank. Couldn't be helped, but the good news is, he's all right."

"What happened, did he say?" said her dad, Bert Greyson, as he dropped his newspaper on the rug.

"He said he had an accident and the boat sank," she said, reaching for her hanky again. She couldn't stop crying and she didn't want to tell them about the dog in case Harry was listening.

Her mother, realizing more was going on then what was being said, came into the living room and told her husband Harry was on the swing, and he should go outside and play with him for a few moments.

Turning to her daughter, she said, "alright now, what's going on?"

"Oh mom, BG went down with the boat. Jack couldn't find him anywhere! He thinks he drowned! How am I going to tell Harry?"

"Oh my, maybe you should leave him here for the night; this kind of news doesn't have to be told right away. When is Jack coming home?"

"He said he'd try to be back by supper time," Rikki said, sniffling into her hanky again.

"That's it then. You tell Harry about BG tomorrow when you've had a good nights sleep and talked it over with Jack. Bad news is best served cold, that's what my mother always said."

"Are you sure, really sure?" she said, smiling through her tears. "How is dad feeling, I don't want him to get too tired."

"Are you kidding, grandpa will be overjoyed. You know how much he loves having that little boy here. And I don't have to tell you how much I love him. He'll be fine. Go home. Make supper. Welcome your husband. Talk.

"You get going now, we'll have some milk and cookies, he'll never miss you. Those two will soon be playing trains, a little supper and then to bed. You know how he loves to stay over," smiled her mom.

* * * *

Stopping at the Willibee Farmer's Market before going home, Rikki knew her mother was right; she needed to show her husband that she was glad he was safe. And one of the best ways was by having his favorite dinner ready.

Thinking of desert, she stopped at the bakery and bought six fresh buns and six little butter tarts, Jack's favorite. Not everyone liked chocolate ice cream with their butter tarts, but Jack did.

At home, she washed the new little potatoes, dried them and rolled them in garlic infused olive oil, ready for the BBQ. The ends of the green beans snapped easily and she put them in a dish, ready for the microwave. The little white onions soaking in melted herb butter were her own recipe; Jack would brown them with the steak and add them to the green beans just before she served them. The T-bone steak went into the fridge to keep cool until needed.

The half case of Labatt's Blue Ribbon beer went into the fridge too. She was glad she remembered which brand was Jack's favorite.

Setting the table in the kitchen was fine but she thought better of it. Taking the plates and cutlery into the den, she set them on the TV trays that normally stood behind the door. They used them when there was an important game scheduled.

Usually she didn't like the idea of eating in front of the TV, but tonight it would be okay, there was a hockey game on and it would take his mind off the accident.

There was time enough tomorrow to get rid of the dog's things. She wasn't sure what to do. Should she let Harry help put the toys and the dog bed in the garbage, or should she just clear everything up and throw it all away while no one was there?

Maybe out of sight, out of mind? Probably not.

Turning on the TV she sat unseeing, remembering the big dog that rested with his head on her foot while they watched their favorite program. He liked to have body contact, and that was fine with everyone, especially Harry. The two would wrestle around and memories of the soft woofs and screams of pleasure from her son brought tears to her eyes again.

"I have to stop this!" she said sternly to herself. "I have to be strong. Jack is okay, and we can always buy another boat. I think Carol's right, we should think about another dog, not right way of course, but Jack will know when."

Everything was prepared, so she sat down to wait.

Some time later, the phone rang while she was dozing in her chair. She hardly noticed, but it kept ringing, finally she got up and answered it.

"Rikki, are you all right?" said her concerned mother. "Your dad and I were watching the news. It said there was an accident on Andover Lake yesterday and a boat belonging to one of the owners of a summer cabin turned over in a freak storm and sank. The owner of the boat made it to shore, and is fine. There'll be more pictures tomorrow. Is that Jack?"

"Probably. Which channel were you on, mom, I wasn't looking at the TV. Was it CKHL News?"

"Just a moment, I'll ask your dad. Bert, Bert what channel were you on?"

"Just turn on the TV," said her dad, "it was on all the news stations, right after the election results. Gordon Wainwrite's Liberals got in again."

"She's not interested in who won the election," said her mom over her shoulder to her husband.

"The news is over for now," she said into the phone, "they said there'll be more about the accident on the Ten O'clock news."

"Thanks for letting me know, mom, I'll make sure I have it on the right channel. How is Harry? Did he eat all his supper?"

"He did just fine. He's playing with some little cars right now; I'll give him a bath and put him to bed in an hour or so. Let us know when Jack comes home."

"Yes, okay, I'll call when he comes in," said Rikki. "Thanks again for looking after Harry."

"No problem, take care."
Chapter Seven

Jack McKinnon was finally on his way home to Langley.

The night was dark, the hour late.

He drove slowly, cautiously.

Fragments of what happened at the old cabin he and the Mounties found churned in his head. He tried to make sense of what they saw, as he carefully drove the white line back to civilization.

The memories were uneven.

When they found the abandoned cabin at the foot of snow covered Scuff Peak and looked around, they realized it had been empty for a long, long time.

A single nail held up the broken door and frame. It looked as though it was pushed aside so someone or something could get in.

But it was the white bone with the human heads carved on either end that hung above the door that was giving Jack the most angst. And... he didn't know why?

Memory sat on Jack's shoulder as he drove and watched with him as he saw himself staring at the stove, picking up the lid and putting his hand on the ashes, they weren't that cold...he had to admit...there really was a fire. He saw the remains of curtains that were ripped off the windows still hanging in ragged clumps.

Now he was sweating!

The Mounties were checking for footprints again, and they all trooped back to the water to see if they could find the original marks made the previous night. But there was only one set of bare feet going up to the cabin, but no doggy paw prints.

Jack shifted in his seat, he knew he followed both man and dog prints up to the cabin today. Why couldn't they find them!

Not only no dog footprints, but they couldn't find the railway tracks either. The two Mounties said they were going to search a wider area.

He remembered getting really tired and said he didn't want to go with them, he said he'd wait. He knew he wanted to stay by the cabin.

The two Mounties searched and searched but there were no railway tracks. When they realized how far from the cabin they were, they said they called, but he didn't remember hearing them.

Jack, still concentrating, trying to remember everything and not understanding what was happening, hung on to reality.

What he did remember clearly, was how calm and peaceful it was by the cabin. He still couldn't explain it, but he felt so contented, like he knew that everything would always be perfect, if only he could just stay where he was.

Then he thought about what Bill said when they found him sitting on the ground, his back was against a small tree, his eyes shut. When they tried to get him to stand up, he sprang up fists ready to fight. He didn't remember that either. They said when he realized who they were he lowered his fists and went back to the tree and sat down.

He remembered Bill Majors saying he didn't know what was going on. But, he did know it was time to leave.

But Jack didn't want to go, he'd never experienced such calm, peaceful oblivion.

He remembered again the anxiety and guilt that gnawed its way into his stomach as they walked down to the water, and he knew he shouldn't leave.

In the boat on the way back to Merriweather, the Mounties talked it over, and agreed. They needed someone from the Xaali'pp Indian band, a shaman or medicine man who understood this kind of thing.

As the miles sped by, Jack clutched the vans steering wheel and unease settled over him. Why did he feel he shouldn't have left that cabin? Why did he feel he shouldn't tell Rikki how he felt? Why was a human head carved on each end of the white bone that hung over the door? And why was he the only one upset that they left and not the Mounties?

Something bad was happening, and he didn't know how to prevent it. He fretted and worried all the way home.

"What's happening to me?" he said aloud, gritting his teeth, "I'm losing it and I don't even know why."

When he and the Mounties finally got back to Merriweather, Jack remembered how frantic he was to leave. He had to go home, back to Langley, back to his wife and son. He didn't know why he couldn't remember his wife's name, but he knew he had to go home.

Now!

A soothing voice in the back of his head kept telling him it was unreasonable that he had to go now, what he really needed to do, was to go back to the cabin. That was where peace and tranquility waited for him.

But the need for wife and family was stronger now that he was on the road to home, and returning the borrowed boat to the Merriweather grocery store helped his resolve.

He even remembered to thank Freddy for arranging to have Ralph's Garage replace the ignition in his van while he was away. He paid both bills before he started home.

If anyone found any items from his boat he knew Freddy would call him, collect. He gave his home phone and his work number to anyone who asked.

Earlier, when he got into the van, habit took over, and he looked for the dog. But he wasn't there! The old folded doggy blanket he lay on when they spent the whole day travelling was on the back seat. His water dish still pushed under the passenger seat. Remembering BG didn't survive was almost more than he could bear.

He remembered pulling out of the parking lot. The open windows blew in cool fresh air; he turned the radio up and found some music, really loud music. So loud, it was hard to think, but memory sat beside him and he remembered anyway.

Jack clutched the steering wheel, and concentrated fiercely on going home. He knew he couldn't give in, no matter what memory said! His wife needed him, he had to go home. He had a son...

It was late when he got to Langley; he drove the car into the carport and tiptoed into the house through the unlocked basement door.

Up stairs in the kitchen, he realized there were dishes on the table, and pots on the stove. In the light from the street lamp, he saw the preparation for dinner.

She'd waited for him.

Guilt overcame him and he sat down heavily in the chair. Now he felt bad that he took so long to come back.

His beautiful wife stood in the doorway waiting for him to look up. She was wearing the Chinese silk pajamas he bought her on their first anniversary. The top buttons on the jacket were open.

Finally aware, he stood up and she quickly ran into his arms, they were strong and she knew everything was going to be all right.

Jack was home, there was no other problem!

He bent his head and kissed her. Picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, kicked the door shut with his foot and placed her on the bed.

Now, he remembered why he had to come home.

This was where the love was.
Chapter Eight

The accident on Andover Lake provided fresh gossip for the town of Merriweather. But when nothing else happened, they attended to their own business and it became last week's news.

Freddy, the grocery store owner's son was sorry when the fuss died down, almost everyone in town found a reason to see him and hear the story first hand.

He loved being so popular.
Chapter Nine

Sergeant Bill Majors, 'E' Division, Carling Detachment, who's assigned case this was, was catching up on his 'paper work'. His 'To Do' list said he had to go to Merriweather to see if the boat or anything else floated up. He also knew he should get in touch with Chief George from the Xaali'pp Band Council. The episode at that empty cabin across the lake had to be explained. Rumor said someone from the Xaali'pp band owned it at one time.

Sometimes behind his dad's back, they called the store, 'Gossip Central'. Folks didn't mean it in a nasty way; it was just that Freddy always seemed to be up on all the latest news.

"Hi Freddy," Sergeant Bill said entering the store, "How're you doing?"

Actually, there wasn't much to check, it was just a summer tourist whose boat sank. It was too bad about the dog though, but strange things happen on big lakes.

Jack McKinnon, owner of the boat that went down, said they had insurance on the boat and that was the 'why' of this visit.

"Freddy, I need a 'W _itness Statement'_ from you. Were you the first person Mr. McKinnon talked to when he came into the store the morning of May 17, 1989?"

"Yes sir, that was a Sunday, I remember he came in kind of out of breath, he had bits of sticks and dirt all over him, no coat and he didn't have any shoes on either, he looked kind of wild. I didn't know what to say."

"Was it around eight o'clock in the morning?"

"Yes sir, we open at 8:00 am in winter, in summer we open at 6:00 am, folks get up earlier in summer."

"Yes, Yes, never mind about that. What exactly did he say?"

"Well, I can't really remember but I know the other officer took all that down. I remembered real good then. Felt bad for Mr. McKinnon though, he looked funny, not ha ha funny, but weird funny."

"I don't remember reading that in the report. What made him look weird funny? Try to remember."

"Yes sir, I'll try, sir, I guess it was the look in his eyes, and it was real cold out and he didn't have any shoes on and he didn't know it. I know he didn't know, because I asked him where his shoes were and he looked down and said he must have lost them. I just said oh."

"Thanks, Freddy, you've been a great help. Has Mr. McKinnon been up to his cabin since the accident?"

"Not that I seen, he wouldn't have any way of gettin' there, most folks wouldn't walk it you know. Boat's only way up. Mind, some Skim'ka'mx Indians do it. They always talk about the old days. I was a young kid when _The Lady of the Lake;_ you remember the steam ship that used to run from Merriweather to Seton Portage, made the trip to Carling a lot quicker."

"You say the Skim'ka'mx Indians sometimes walk it? How long does it take them? Why don't they go by boat? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Those guys don't like little boats, they walk everywhere. I can't remember how long the lake is, I always have to look at the fishing chart to check the miles," he said, turning around and pointing to the big map on the wall behind the cash register.

"Look here, it says the lake is 15 miles long, and you know something else? It's 700 feet deep! How's that for a long way down?"

"Why are they walking from that end of the lake, what's up there, besides the McKinnon cabin?"

"Didn't you know? That's holy ground up there for them Indians, it's a big old time burial ground. White folks shouldn't go up there."

"Why did Jack and Rikki buy the cabin there then? Do the Indians mind them living close by?"

"Don't know nothin' about that! Don't know nothin' about nothin'. I keep on the good side of everybody."

"Don't get excited Freddy, thanks for the information. Give me a cup of your freshest hot coffee and I'll be on my way," Bill said, as he paid with a new one-dollar coin.

Some said it looked like gold, but others said it didn't fool anyone. Some liked the new coins. Some thought it a stupid thing to do, get rid of the paper dollar bill, and began calling it a loony; others called it that because of the Canadian Loon on the front.

"Oh, I forgot, who owns the garage in town, now?" said the Mountie, "I mean I forgot his name and I want to speak to his wife."

"You mean Ralph? He bought that garage from old man Jenkins a couple a year or more ago...He was getting old and said the winters were too cold, I think he..."

"That's okay Freddy, I met him last year but I forgot his name. I wanted to be sure I had the right person."

Sergeant Majors walked back to his vehicle and spoke to Constable Dillon. "I'm going to walk over to the garage, and see if Ralph is open today. You go and check the marina to see if anyone found any of Jack McKinnon's belongings. Ask if the dog floated up yet. If it did, find out what they did with it. It wouldn't be good if it wound up on the beach in front of the McKinnon cabin while they were there.

"See you back here in an hour."
Chapter Ten

"Jack McKinnon, what aren't you doing now?" said his exasperated wife a few days later.

The garbage was scheduled for collection tomorrow in their Langley neighbourhood, and she wanted to give her husband a reason to get up and do something.

"I can't believe you're still sitting there? I thought you said you'd clean out the basement before you went back to work."

"I'll get to it, but not now," said her suffering husband. He sat on the back patio with a cup of cold coffee in his hand and an unseeing look in his eyes. Not a muscle had moved in over an hour.

The loss of the boat and the death of the dog was taking its' toll on the McKinnon household.

As bad as Jack felt, he knew it was time to start picking up the pieces and getting on with life. But not right now.

One thing that was making him crazy was the insurance for the boat...the unsinkable boat. He took the completed forms in to the local office of the insurance company, but they kept rejecting them. It was becoming a very sore point.

Usually he was the level headed one, the calm one in the storm; but not now and Rikki was worried.

She couldn't talk to her folks about this, so...she went across the lane to have coffee with her neighbor.

"So, how's everything going?" said Carol Adler. "Does Harry still like Play School?"

"Yes, he loves it; there are always kids to play with. Sometimes he doesn't want to come home."

Carol, who was standing by the sink filling the coffee maker, looked at her friend from the corner of her eye, saw she was tearing up and was trying to hide it.

"You know what, Rikki," she said bringing two cups to the table, "we need a day off to shop. The kids are on a Pro 'D' day, and want to visit my folks. My mom spoils them terribly. They think it's great!"

"I'd love to go, but I can't be sure Jack would remember to pick Harry up. He hasn't been himself since that 'thing' at Merriweather."

Rikki had yet to give closing words to the death of BG and the sinking of the boat. She couldn't bring herself to say, 'dead dog'.

"Let's go see if we can talk Jack into picking Harry up, it will do him a world of good. He's been wallowing in self-pity since it happened. I know I'm only the neighbor but sometimes a stranger can say things a wife can't."

"Do you think he'd listen?"

"Can only try."

* * * *

Jack McKinnon stood in the bathroom giving the face in the mirror a stern talking to. He looked at his reflection. The black hair looked okay, but the bags under his brown eyes and sallow skin spoke loudly of how little sleep he was getting.

Why did it take a neighbor to tell him he was neglecting his wife and son?

This was enough! No more selfish shit!

He went back to the kitchen and set the timer for 11:30. It took 10 minutes to get to Play School at the Community Centre. Trouble was it took the same amount of time to find a parking space.

"Can't be late today," he muttered to himself. His son was fearful, afraid something would happen to his mom or dad, look what happened to BG? He had to watch his parents very carefully so they wouldn't just disappear, too.

Jack knew he had to come to terms with the dog's death, and the loss of the boat. But what he couldn't seem to accept was the experience in the cabin that he could hardly remember, and the walk along the railway tracks (that weren't there) back to Merriweather.

Something was wrong; he couldn't get over the feeling of disorientation and that he shouldn't have come home. And like it or not, he knew he had to go back and sort it out.

But, first things first.

Clean out the basement!

He worked the rest of the morning, and threw out the junk from everyday living that accumulates in a basement. Empty paint cans, dried up paintbrushes, and why did he save these old boards? There was even an old wooden chair with one broken leg. Plus piles of newspapers and boxes of empty bottles.

He took it all outside the back yard fence, and stacked it neatly for the garbage men to pick up next day. It felt good to be doing something that was needed. And besides, Rikki would be pleased.

He knew she'd put up with a lot since...he couldn't speak of it either.

Even to himself.

Poor Harry he thought, his dog is gone and he doesn't know what's wrong with his dad. Jack remembered when they were playing in the back yard last summer, one day he laughed, and got into Harry's little wading pool too. His wife and son thought it was so funny, he was such a big man and the pool was just one ring tall, all the water spilled out.

ZZZZZ, Jack knew immediately what that was. The timer on the stove said he had to pick up Harry.

It was good that he just finished tidying up the basement, everything was nice and neat and put away.

The next day...

"Carol," said Rikki who was sitting at her neighbor's kitchen table again, "you aren't going to believe this. I don't know what to do."

"Let me pour the coffee," she said standing up, "what happened?"

"You know how I've been after Jack to clean out the basement, well, he finally did."

"And that's bad, because?" she said, putting a plate of cookies on the table.

"You remember last month when those rowdy boys from down the block were breaking into everyone's house and robbing them?"

"Hold on, I don't remember them 'breaking into everyone's house', it was just ours because my own children didn't shut the door when they left for school, and the Lynn's kids across the street aren't any better at door closing either. They weren't stealing everything, but they drank the milk in my fridge, and took the cake that was on Lynn's table, so that's not like they ransacked the houses."

"You're right, but they still broke in, and it frightened me that Jack was up at the lake and we were home alone. You remember which day that was, don't you? Well, you know my Uncle Philip has been giving me a silver dollar every year since I was born, and my parents give Harry a $100.00 Savings Bond on his birthday every year. I got to thinking, what if they stole the silver dollars and the Bonds, so I hid them."

"Where?"

"In a paint can."

"A paint can? What do you mean?"

"I went down stairs and found a can that the paint was all dried up, and I put the Bonds and the silver dollars into it, put the lid back on and put it back on the shelf. No one would ever know there was money in it. Yesterday was garbage pick up day."

"So?"

"I've been after Jack for months to clean up downstairs. This morning at breakfast, we watched the garbage truck go down the lane. That's when he told me he cleaned out the basement. It took me a moment or two to think about it, and then I realized what he did. I rushed downstairs and sure enough, no more old dried up paint cans. No more paint cans, period!"

Carol got up from the table and rushed into the bathroom, she was laughing so hard she started to choke. She quickly splashed cold water on her face. How could she laugh at her neighbor's tale of woe, even if it was the funniest thing she'd heard in a long, long time?

"So what happened?" she asked coming back into the room.

"Didn't you see us all running after the garbage truck? I thought the whole block was on the back porch watching us yell at the driver to pull over. He stopped but wouldn't let us look for the can; he said he had to keep to a schedule, because when they didn't finish on time they got their pay docked."

Carol started to choke, and had to rush into the bathroom again.

More cold water! Another stern talking to about not making fun of someone else's catastrophe!

"Okay", she said to her friend coming out of the bathroom again, "I'm over my coughing fit, what now?"

"I'm going to call the Sanitation Department and find out where they dumped the truck and go see if I can find the can."

"Really?"

The coughing started again, but Carol was able to control it this time, "I didn't know you could go and rummage around in the garbage dump. What if another dump truck dumped on top of the truck load you wanted to look through? What if you were digging around and another truck came in, and dumped...all over you?"

"I don't know," Rikki said seriously, looking down at her clenched hands, "I can't even remember what brand of paint it was, but I do remember the label had writing on it."

Carol, choked back the coughing fit this time, to ask, "what's Jack saying to all this?"

"He's going out of town tomorrow. On his regular route."

That did it!

Carol couldn't contain herself any longer and was almost rolling on the floor with laughter. Her woe-begotten friend sat and looked at the crazy lady that she expected sympathy from and began to see the humor in the situation, too.

She smiled at Carol, and a little snicker began, it crept up to her eyes, and then it erupted into a wholehearted belly laugh.

Both women sat at the kitchen table and laughed and laughed. One, because it was funny, the other, because it wasn't.

* * * *

Nothing news worthy was happening in Harrisburg and the disappearance of the boat and dog in Andover Lake played on TV and in the Newspapers for several days. The fate of the dog interested everyone.

The Jamison Copier/Scanner Company of BC, was very understanding of the events in Merriweather, and gave Jack a few days off to do the paper work, and look after his family. He appreciated the consideration. But the 'time off' was over and Jack returned to his regular out of town route the following Monday, and the companies he delivered copier ink and paper products to wanted to hear about the boat that sank and the dog that disappeared.

He had to go over it again and again all week long, it was a nightmare.

Finally, Jack accepted he couldn't just forget what happened, he had to go back and figure out what it all meant.
Chapter 11

"Really, Rikki," Jack said from a pay phone at the Drug Store in the town of Lacy, just off Hwy 99. "I need to check out that weird cabin Bill and I found. I have to figure out why the boat flipped over, and BG drowned," he said, anxious to get away. "I'll be back in a day or two, if you need me, leave a message with Freddy at the Grocery store in Merriweather."

"Are you going to be alright? Do you have enough money for gas and food? Oh, Jack, what are you going to do, we haven't bought another boat yet, how will you get to that other cabin? Are you sure you want to do this? Maybe you should come home and we'll all go up next week. I think that's the best idea. You could take a whole week's holiday, Jamison's won't mind, they said so. We could buy a boat and open the cabin; don't you think that would be better?"

"No, sweetheart, this is something I have to do by myself. I'll buy some groceries from Freddy and I know a fellow who will rent me his boat. I have to go now. Remember, I love you and no matter what happens, I'll always come home."

"No, no, don't go. Oh Jack, I love you so much, Harry loves you, don't leave us!"

"I have to go now. Don't worry. I'll come home."

Jack hung up the phone; somehow, even though he knew he should be concerned about his wife and son, he felt a palatable peace. It was as though he was finally free.

He left the Drug store and, even in his fog, remembered to gas up the van. It seemed to know where to go; Jack just sat and stared at the road.

He made good time and pulled into Mt. Currie at 11:00 am. The Old Hwy was only a two-lane road, not much travelled, and it was still early in the year. Rain and sudden snowstorms were an everyday occurrence.

But not today.

The weather forecast on the van's radio said it was going to be cold and crisp. Sometimes that meant late spring snow, he had to hurry or he'd be caught in weather when he turned off onto old Portage Road.

The road wound along, sometimes right next to the old railway tracks built by the Pacific Great Eastern a long time ago. He looked at them and knew they were important, but couldn't remember why.

As he drove, cold shivered down his back in his nice warm van.
Chapter 12

"Sergeant Majors, why isn't this case closed?" said his irritated Chief from behind his desk at the Carling Department lock-up. "It seems to me a fairly ordinary accident on Andover Lake. Owner and dog on boat, storm blew up turned boat over, it sank, the dog died, he survived. What's the problem with this? It's all very straightforward. Why do we have this letter from his Insurance Company?"

"Well, sir, it's not quite as simple as it looks, the boat was unsinkable. Now there's a question of maybe it was stolen not sunk," said Sergeant Majors standing at attention in front of his Chief's desk. "Also, I've been trying to get in touch with Chief George of the Xaali'pp band, about the ownership of the cabin by Scuff Peak. That's the cabin Jack McKinnon thought he slept in that night. I need to know who owns it for the accident report. The Chief is avoiding talking to me. Every time I phone his home, his mother says he's out. I went over to the reserve last week, but he saw me coming and went out the back door."

"Sergeant, you realize how that sounds?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, what are you going to do about it? We can't have an open case hanging around just because Chief George doesn't want to talk to you. Go over there and insist!" said his Detachment Chief not too kindly.

"Yes sir."

Sergeant Majors snapped a smart salute and turned in a tight circle according to the strict procedure taught at the RCMP Academy, Depot Division, headquartered in Regina, Saskatchewan. His boss always smiled at the perfect precision. Sometimes he even forgot why he was upset.

It always got the Sergeant out the door.

* * * *

The Xaali'pp Indian Band's land spread out along the west side of the Fraser River, the town of Carling was on the east side.

The passenger ferry, run by the Xaali'pp Band, was close by at Lyon, and served towns on both sides of the river. Some said it should be scrapped, what they needed was a bridge. But everybody knew, it was a dream for tomorrow.

Two Mounties left early next morning, just after 6:30 am as the radio said it was going to be hot, possibly 91 degrees Fahrenheit. The area around Carling was usually the hottest spot in BC, and this year was no exception. Temperatures could fluctuate wildly in late spring, and early summer. Last minute snow flurries were not unheard of nor were temperatures over 80 or 90 degrees that didn't last long.

The Sergeant and his partner tried and failed yesterday to track the Chief down, but today they had a plan. The Sergeant was going to the front door of his home on the reserve; the Constable was to go to the back door. Either way, they'd have their man.

After parking the police car behind a big dump truck, the Sergeant went to the front door and knocked, his partner went to the back.

"Hello," said Sergeant Majors, "I'm looking for Chief George, is he in?"

"I don't know, I'll go look," said the teenager who answered the door, and tried to close it in his face.

"What's going on here?" said the Mountie putting his heavily booted foot in the doorway.

Since he couldn't shut the front door, the boy turned to run out the back. When he yanked the door open, there stood the other Mountie, (darn, out smarted by the fuzz).

Hearing the commotion, an old woman walked out of her bedroom at the front of the house and saw what was happening.

"That's enough!" she said in a firm voice, "I won't have people terrorizing my grand children! Rudy, go and sit at the kitchen table until I straighten this out. Then I'll talk to you!"

"Excuse me, ma'am; remember me, I'm Sergeant Majors of the RCMP Carling Detachment. I've come to speak to Chief George."

"Good for you," said the Chief's mother inching the door shut, "if you find him tell him I'd like to speak to him too."

"Ma'am, I haven't come to arrest him, or cause any trouble, I just need to speak to someone who can tell me about the cabin on Andover Lake that's right in front of Scuff Peak. I need to know who owns it."

"I don't know nothin' about no cabin at Scuff Peak, we don't have anything to do with that place, it don't belong to us. You should go away now."

"I'm not leaving until someone gives me some answers. I only need this bit of information. A fellow with a cabin on Andover Lake lost his boat and dog in the lake, and almost drowned himself. He got out of the water in front of the Scuff Peak cabin; I just need to know the name of the owner for my report."

The old woman's eyes got bigger and bigger as he talked. She grabbed the front door firmly and surprized him by slamming the door shut. She and the young man turned to run out the back door; but they met the other Mountie who still stood guard.

"Damn It!"

He herded them back inside. The house was getting warmer now that the sun was higher in the sky, but the air in the house was heavy with angst.

"Ma'am," Bill Majors said, "I don't want a problem, I just need to know who owns the cabin, it's for our records. It's just in case the owner files a report with his insurance company. I know the door and frame are pushed in, but there's no water damage from the rain yet. It should be looked into right away to make sure no little animals decide to make it their home. It's in everyone's best interest to have this matter settled sooner rather than later. No one's in trouble, surely you know who owns it!"

"I don't know nothin', I've never been to there, I'm never going to go there. I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to take you in to Carling for further questioning then," said Sergeant Majors, hoping the threat would loosen her tongue.

It didn't faze the old woman or the young man. Seems they'd rather go to jail than talk about the cabin.

"I don't know what this is all about," said the Sergeant to his partner on the drive back to the office with their prisoners, "but I'm sure going to find out."
Chapter 13

The man that used to be Jack McKinnon stood on the sidewalk and saw himself pull up to the gas pump at the marina in Merriweather. He was in a fog; reality was slipping away. Memory hadn't left altogether yet.

He saw Freddy say, "I said, how much gas, Mr. McKinnon?"

"Fill it up Freddy; put it on my tab?"

He remembered saying that, as he looked at himself get out of the van.

Time was going in and out of focus. But he couldn't look away, suddenly he was getting out of his van, getting gas at the marina.

Again!

"You goin' up to the cabin tonight?" said Freddy, the grocery store owners' son as he hooked the gas pumps back up. "How you going t' get there? It'll be dark soon maybe you should stay over. I could let you sleep in the back of the store, my dad won't mind, you're a good customer," rattled Freddy.

"I'm going over to the Seed & Feed to see if Pete Farmer will rent me his boat for a couple of days," said Jack, weary and drawn. "I'm tired, and I appreciate the offer of the bed. I'll take you up on it. I'll be back as soon as I make arrangements for the morning."

With the gas tank filled, he felt more in control and drove over to the Feed store. It was almost 6:00 o'clock; he got there just as the owner was pulling down the shade on the door, getting ready to close.

"You're coming in a little late, Jack, what can I do for you?"

"Won't take long, just wanted to know if I could rent your boat for a day or two, there's some repairs I have to do on the cabin before Rikki and Harry come up," he lied, pulling the names out of his memory. "I haven't had time to buy another boat yet, but I should be able to do that in a week or two before we come up for the summer."

"No problem, no one else has asked for it, so it's all yours. You know where the key is, it's all gassed up and ready to go. I changed its' mooring since last year, it's in slot #43 now. Have fun."

Jack left the store and made his way down the street to 'Betty's Hilltop Cafe'; his rumbling stomach told him he should eat something. He opened the door and looked around, 'Betty' was now a 300 lb. overweight ex biker that 'found his calling' when he bought the cafe and became the towns best fast food cook.

"Hi, 'Betty', any chance of a hamburger and coffee?" said Jack McKinnon.

"Hi, yourself, always a hamburger on the grill for you, do you want fries with that? Just sit anywhere, the place isn't that big that I can't find you."

Jack sat down in the closest booth.

'Betty' came over with his order and sat down to talk, but Jack kept on eating, with only a grunt or two in answer. He couldn't keep track of the conversation and nodded in odd places.

Finally, his supper finished, he got up, paid the bill, and drove back to the grocery store's parking lot.

"Hi, Mr. McKinnon," said Freddy who was waiting for him so he could lock up. "I called my dad and he said you could bunk in the back; no problem. If you get up before we open the store, just pull the door shut behind you. It'll lock until we open it with the key."

Freddy came around the counter and lead the way to the back of the store, and showed him where to sleep. It was not much of a bed, more of a cot. But it didn't matter, Jack was out on his feet and couldn't wait to lie down.

* * * *

"Jack McKinnon, come home," said the voice.

"Go away, I'm tired."

"Get up, you have to come home, get up now!"

"I can't get up, I'm too tired, leave me alone Rikki, let me sleep," said the dreaming man that just crawled out of the lake.

"Get up, you have to come home," said the woman's voice more urgently now.

The dog paced in front of him, and barked frantically.

"Shut up, BG, I have to sleep now, go away."

But the pacing dog kept barking. He went over to the man and began licking his face and whining.

Slowly the man sat up, almost as though an outside force was lifting him. He slumped down again, turned on his stomach and began to crawl. No brush or small tree was in the way. The path to the cabin was clear.

It was waiting for him.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said and lay back down.

"Jack McKinnon, you wake up now," Rikki's voice said, "don't sleep. Get up, come home right now!"

"Okay, Okay, I'll try, but can't come right now..." he whispered to the sand and rocks as he finally stood and walked towards the dark cabin.

The dog hesitated, but followed his master.

* * * *

"Holy shit!" yelled Jack as he bolted up out of his nightmare, still in the cot, still in the back of the Merriweather grocery store, still in the middle of the night.

Trembling, and in a cold sweat he sat on the side of the makeshift bed. Was that a dream, or was it real? He looked around, under the bed, behind the door.

No dog!

He staggered into the store's washroom and splashed cold water on his face. Looking into the mirror over the sink he wondered who that haggard person was with the red-rimmed eyes?

"My god," he said to his reflection, "it's me!"
Chapter 14

This day was never going to end!

Sergeant Bill Majors sat and waited at his desk in Carling. He had plenty of time to go over what happened earlier in the day, plenty of time to regret the reason for his angst.

He shook his head. What to do...? What to do...?

He tapped the page of the report he was trying to read with his pen, still no answer. What was he supposed to do, now?

Yesterday he went to the reserve to see Chief George, but he was avoiding the RCMP.

So, this morning, he went back to the house and tried to pressure the Chief's mother into telling where he went. She wasn't having any and he wound up calling the mother of Chief George of the Xaali'pp band's bluff, and detained not only her, but the Chief's youngest son as well.

What a mess!

Wait until his Chief finds out, his ears could feel the chewing out he was going to get for unintentionally adding to the strained relationship between the Xaali'pp Band and the local RCMP.

But, what else could he have done?

He got caught!

The old woman knew what she was doing. Her son was going to come storming in and there would be big trouble. Bill knew he'd have to apologize and let them go. And he still wouldn't be any wiser about who owned that damn cabin.

The Sergeant looked out the window and watched as the warm spring sun began to fall into the far mountain range; dusk settled in early, before the end of the working day. Not quite the long days of summer yet.

He knew he had to wait, it was one thing to bring an Indian in for questioning, but quite another to keep one over night without Due Cause.

The Chief's mother was a completely different question.

He began to wonder why he was spending so much time on the problem of the 'unknown' cabin; didn't he have bigger, more important crimes to solve?

Of course he did!

But he knew in his heart, he couldn't leave it alone, not until he knew what happened in that abandoned cabin below Scuff Peak.

A battered old truck with rust in the wheel wells pulled up to the entrance of the RCMP Detachment office in a flourish. A large man in well-worn jeans, and scuffed up cowboy boots tumbled out, the back of the truck held a number of men, all scowling and muttering.

"Oh, shit, shit, shit!" said the Mountie, "Here comes trouble!"
Chapter 15

Nothing had changed in Langley Township, Jack was still at the cabin, the boat was still at the bottom of the lake, the money was still in the garbage truck, but time was helping, it didn't seem so overwhelming anymore.

"Have some more coffee before you pick up Harry," Carol said, holding the coffee pot. "Sorry about laughing the other day, I couldn't help it, it just hit my funny bone, and the more you said, the funnier it got. I couldn't help picturing you and Jack and Harry running down the lane, in your PJ's with your house-coats flapping and yelling for the garbage truck to stop. I'm sorry, but it just cracked me up. I know what's happening to you and Jack is serious. I shouldn't have laughed, again, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," said Rikki, "I feel better right now than I've felt in quite a while. There has to be some emotional release when things get so tense. A good laugh was the best medicine ever, it's nice to have a caring friend," she said, a bit embarrassed by the emotions that bubbled up.

Carol looked at her and smiled. Maybe there'd be some better news tomorrow.

"Mom," said her oldest daughter, Karen, "why's an RCMP car sitting in front of Mrs. McKinnon's house?"

"What? The police are at my place?" said Rikki jumping up and looking out the kitchen window.

Yep, there it was in all its' Centennial Blue and White splendor. Thank heavens the red cherry light on top wasn't blazing, or the hazard lights blinking.

Rikki ran for the back door.

The Adler's, mother and daughter, stood and watched through the window, they saw the big RCMP officer going up the back steps. Rikki made it to their fence before he had a chance to knock.

"Can I help you?" she gasped, as he turned and looked at her.

"I'm looking for the lady that lives in this house."

"I'm the lady that lives in this house. How can I help you?"

"We better go inside where you can sit down."

Rikki dropped where she stood, fainting in a crumpled heap.

The Mountie ran down the steps and put her in the 'rescue position', and she began to breathe again.

"Are you alright, Mrs. McKinnon, should I call for an ambulance? I'm sorry if I startled you, I'm just here to ask about the insurance policy you and your husband have on your boat."

"What are you talking about?" mumbled Rikki trying for a little decorum as she sat on the ground. She pulled her dress down to her knees and said, "Since when does the Royal Canadian Mounted Police check on insurance policies, what's going on? Where's my husband? What's happened?"

"Take it easy, I didn't think this call would cause all this uproar." He turned and looked at the row of concerned neighbors standing just outside the back fence. "There's nothing to see folks, you can go home now."

Nobody moved.

"It's okay, I'm alright," she said, "it was just a shock when he told me I should sit down. That usually means bad news; I can't take anymore bad news!"

"If there's going to be bad news, I'm coming too!" said Carol opening the back gate and stepping into the yard. She went over, stood by her friend in a protective manner, and glowered at the Mountie. "I'm her best friend and I want to make sure there are no problems."

"Whatever you want, this is not the big deal you think it is. I'm busy and I'm doing this as a favor for a friend of mine."

Rikki, Carol and the big man went up the back steps into the house.

Rikki sat at the kitchen table.

Carol stood by the sink.

The Mountie stood by the door.

They all looked at each other and waited for someone else to speak.

"Harrumph," said the Law, clearing his throat. He seemed nervous too.

"I've had a request from the RCMP Detachment in Carling to request a copy of the insurance policy on your boat. I know this is not regular procedure, but there's a problem. It seems it hasn't surfaced and it should have. There's some question as to whether it was stolen, sold or sunk."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, it was a very straight forward insurance claim, no one has asked us about anything. I have the registration numbers for the boat, and a brochure showing what it looked like when it was new, the size and all the rest of it. What's bringing on these questions? Why are you asking?"

"Ma'am, I have no idea, but it seems there are some discrepancies. Let me take that information and I'll have it copied and returned to you."

"No, if you want a copy, I'll give it to you. My husband works for Jamison Copier, and we have a printer/copier here at home. Just a moment and I'll get you one."

"Thank you very much; you've saved me a return trip."

She took the Insurance policy and the pictures of the boat from the file in the den. It only took a few moments and she returned with the papers and offered them to the Constable.

He took them, and with another apology for upsetting her, went back to his police cruiser and left.

"What do you think this is all about, Carol?"

"I don't know, but I'd call Jack, this might be important. I know you don't have a phone up there, but I remember you saying Freddy at the marina in Merriweather took messages.

"You know you're right, he should know what's going on. I don't know why I'm so slow today. But I'll call right now so he'll get the message as soon as he arrives."
Chapter 16

Saturday morning finally dawned on Andover Lake.

The sky, shot with pink ribbons that seemed to be growing closer and closer together woke Jack from a restless sleep in the back of the Merriweather grocery store.

For a moment, he couldn't place where he was.

Then he remembered his unsettling dream from the middle of last night. He was still having trouble with reality, and kept checking the date on his watch.

He got out of the cot and looked out the small window in the bathroom; the sky, no longer pink, was a blaze of brilliant red blood streaked across the whole sky. The air so clear it throbbed; a rosy glow shimmered around the snowy top of the big mountain.

Hmm?

A vague look came over Jack, as he seemed to remember; you can't see Scuff Peak from the store.

But he felt time was running out and he knew he had to hurry. Purposefully he walked down to the marina and mooring slot #43. Yes, there was the speedboat that would take him to the cabin.

In his fog last night, he forgot to buy groceries. He had no food, no white gas for the lantern, and no propane for the fridge. He also forgot to check with Freddy to make sure he didn't have a phone call from home. Turning he retraced his steps back to the store.

Although he was still feeling odd, it was better than yesterday. Impatient as he was, he knew he had to wait until the store opened, and decided what he really needed was a good breakfast.

My god, he thought as he stood in the parking lot and looked up, the red blood in the sky was brilliant in the early morning light. It held him until he realized a little rhyme was running through the back of his mind, hmm, how did it go? He knew he was just a little kid the last time he thought about it.

"Oh, yes;

"Red at night, Sailor's Delight,

"Red in the morning, Sailor's take Warning!"

Now, why is that running through my head, thought Jack? He knew it didn't matter and it was time to eat.

Out on Main Street, he saw the sign for 'Betty's Hilltop Cafe' winking in the early light and started for the diner.

"Good Morning, 'Betty', is breakfast ready yet?" Jack said as he opened the door to the almost empty cafe.

"Good Morning yourself, do you know, you're the only one around here that has the balls to call me 'Betty'? Did I ever tell you about the time I fought off the whole Blazing Knights biker gang singlehandedly, knocked the shit out of all of them. Got away with it too!"

"You don't scare me, 'Betty', you're all blow and no go," Jack said with a grin. "I'll have the steak and eggs and all the trimmings. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."

"Hmm," said the owner of the restaurant with a wink, "how do you know you're not getting one this morning!"

The new owner of the cafe and Jack were old soccer buddy's from before his biker days and enjoyed the give and take of old friendship. 'Betty' was glad his friend was back to his old self.

Soon the small cafe was full of eager anglers ready to start the fishing day with a good breakfast. Jack sat in the corner booth, listening to the friendly banter, and was glad he came. Thoughts of the boat that sunk and the dog that died seemed to be gone from his mind. He was looking forward to the trip up to the cabin and could hardly wait to get started.

As he sat enjoying his last cup of coffee, he realized he was humming that tune again. What were those words? Something about 'sailor take warning', but he couldn't remember the other lines.

"Oh, well," he said, "that's just a nursery rhyme."

He got up paid his bill, joked a little with 'Betty', and headed back to the dock.

He had to pick up eggs and bacon, and maybe a nice steak from Freddy. With the spare gas can filled from the marina, he'd be on his way.

Sure is a funny looking red sky this morning, he thought, having forgotten what it looked like earlier.

Since no one else was paying attention to it, and the radio in the cafe said, clear and calm, with a light chop; he knew it was nothing to worry about.

"I'll be up at the cabin in no time," he said aloud to himself. "Maybe I can get in an hour on the water, maybe even a fish or two for supper."

The speedboat Jack rented was a joy on the water. The response was instant. He did a couple of figure 8's, just for the fun of it.

On the water, his eye fell on the groceries pushed into the opening between the front seats, they weren't stowed as well as in his own boat, but that couldn't be helped. Then he turned to the other side a little and looked at the passenger seat and thoughts of Big Guy brought tears to his eyes. "Can't think those thoughts," he said to the windshield, "got to get to the cabin."

"Wow," he said out loud, "look at that red sky and those black clouds roll, I should've checked the weather again."

Something wrong?

"The light's so bright it hurts my eyes? What's wrong with the lake, I've only seen it this flat once before..." he mumbled, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "There's Scuff Peak again, here comes the heavy weather! Gotta get in shallower water," he said in a daze, and turned the wheel to the left.

Jack knew his cabin was on the northeast side of Andover Lake. What he didn't know was, why was he crossing the lake, heading south east.

The wind whipped the water up; the waves so high he couldn't see the shore. Finally, a beach rose up in front of him and he managed to wrestle the boat closer to shore.

"Couldn't have hung on much longer," he said aloud, as he moved the boat closer in. With this wind, he knew he had to bring the boat higher on shore and make sure the motor was pulled up.

But it was heavier than he thought and he couldn't push it further on the beach, so he got the mooring rope out and tied it to the strongest looking branch he could find.

Then he looked around, "humm," he said, "Whose cabin is that?"

The wind howled around him, pushing from behind, urging him forward, he made his way up the path until he was standing in front of a small deserted cabin.

Can't tell whose it is, thought Jack, hope its open. I sure don't want to spend the night out doors.

He walked up the steps.

His face dropped its' color, and he stopped, mouth open. The door and the jam were pushed into the room and both were barely hanging from a nail.

Jack turned and ran, "not again," he said, "I won't go there again!"

He got to the beach and even though the storm was raging, cast off and headed into the middle of the lake. After several hundred yards, the wind began to die down and the lake became calm. The mist was almost gone, and soon he saw the late morning sun peek out from behind the last cloud.

"I thought it was night, why is it daytime now? I don't understand!" he shouted out loud, "I have to find someone who _knows_ what's happening to me."

He turned the boat around, checked which way the current was going and headed down lake, back to the town of Merriweather. He knew he had to get to Carling and Bill Majors.
Chapter 17

"Hi Rikki, don't mean to be nosy, but how are you two doing this morning? Have you heard from Jack yet?" asked her friend Carol on the phone the next day.

"No, he's been there two whole days now and he didn't return my phone call. I'm getting worried, I know I shouldn't be, he's at the cabin by now, and can't phone until he comes back to town. But I can't help thinking something awful is going on."

"That's enough of that kind of thinking," said Carol. "Jack knows the lake like the back of his hand, he used to go there with his dad, you even said so. Give him a little credit; he's probably sprucing up the cabin for you, maybe even planting a flower or two."

"Boy, I think I want to live in your world, I can't imagine Jack planting a flower up there, or anywhere else for that matter? He doesn't see flowers, he sees weeds with colored heads. He likes bushes, big ones, little ones, no matter as long as they don't flower and dribble petals all over. You've given me something else to think about though. I think I'll look at the new seed catalogue. West Coast Blooms came yesterday. Maybe it'll take my mind off so much worry."

"Take care, when you hear from Jack, let me know. I've been doing a little fretting myself."

Rikki hung up the phone, and found the new catalogue. She took it into the kitchen and put it on the table to read with her tea.

Harry came in with a small car in his hands, "When's my daddy coming home, I need him to fix my racing car. I can't get this wheel to stay on. He said he'd fix it when he came home. He should come home now!"

Rikki looked at her young son. He had such hope in his eyes; his dad could fix anything. Harry knew that was true, his dad said so.

"Sit at the table, honey, I'll get you some milk. Do you want a cookie, too?"

"Yes, but I'd rather have daddy home."

"Me too," she said under her breath, "me too."
Chapter 18

Sergeant Bill was just getting ready to go home. The tongue-lashing he got from his Detachment Head and the ribbing he took from the rest of the men about the fiasco with Chief George's mother left him feeling impatient and irritated.

I'm not doing another thing on Jack McKinnon's %$# file, he thought, all its' done is get me into trouble. I'm making a mountain out of a molehill...and, I haven't even got a substantial molehill. Hell, it's just this gut feeling that I can't get rid of.

Well, Too Bad!

Bill covered his desktop computer and put his papers away. He always knew where the current case was, in the middle drawer. Saved a lot of time looking in the files, and forgetting where you put your report.

He checked his desk, making sure he locked everything, and turned in his chair to look out the window.

"Aw shit!" he said, "here comes trouble again," and watched his friend Jack McKinnon walk towards the building.

"Might as well call Jeannie, I won't be coming home in time for supper again tonight."

He was just finishing his phone call when the door opened and there stood his woe-begotten friend.

"Hi Jack, what brings you here. When I talked to Freddy from the Grocery store he said you were going up to the cabin to spend a day or two fishing and fixing before going home?"

"Well, you know what thought did," Jack said without the hint of a grin in his voice. "I need some help."

"Is this going to be quick or do I need to put on a pot of coffee?"

"I'd go with the coffee."

"Shit! Sorry, Jeannie made pot roast; she said she was trying to lure me home on time tonight. Never mind, her left overs are still good. What's going on now?"

Jack sat in his chair and squirmed. How could he tell a grown man that he was afraid of the lake now and worse, whatever it was wasn't over yet.

Bill got up unlocked his desk and took his little 4-cup coffee pot out of the bottom drawer and filled it from the small sink in the corner. The coffee grounds were loose, and if not measured carefully, they spilled on the floor. The cleaning crews were never happy with Sergeant Majors' floor.

"Isn't progress wonderful?" he said as he took two Styrofoam coffee cups from his bottom desk drawer and sat down. "No more washing dishes, just throw them away."

Both men waited until the coffee ran through the filter.

"It happened again," Jack said, harrumphing a few times, emotion almost getting the best of him.

"What're you talking about? What happened again?"

"I saw the mountain with the snow, and I was at the cabin."

"You're kidding! Were you turned around and heading south instead of north? Are you sure you were going north?"

"It was only 9:00 o'clock this morning," Jack said, "I knew where I was! I rented Pete Farmer's old speedboat and was on my way up to the cabin. And... all of a sudden, a big storm came up out of nowhere, and there was that mountain again, and the sky so red it looked like it was dripping blood!"

"Hold on now, you were doing fine until the mountain, how could you see the mountain if you were going north? And, where did all this blood in the sky come from?"

"This is the second freakiest thing that's ever happened to me, running into that mountain the first time was the worst," said the very distraught man.

"This time when the storm came up I didn't capsize, but I was lost. It was so dark I couldn't see the edge of the lake. The waves so high they almost swamped the boat. Finally, I saw a beach and managed to pull in. I didn't know where I was. There was no brush or scrub, but there was a cabin sitting on the edge of a clearing."

Jack put his coffee cup down and began to rub his face, as though he could erase the memory of the morning's happenings.

"What did you do?"

"It gets a little murky here, but I'm sure I tied up the boat. Then I must have walked up to the cabin, because the next thing I really remember is looking at the door and knowing I'd seen it before. It was hanging lop-sided with the doorframe still attached. It looked like it was pushed in. I didn't wait to see more, I turned and ran back to the boat. I was out'a there in two minutes flat.

"Here it gets worse funny, as soon as I got away from the cabin, just a few hundred yards, the weather started to clear up. I looked around and it was broad daylight.

"Sunshine all over! That did it! I checked to see which way the current was going, and I was going north. I turned around and headed to Merriweather, and here I am. Do something! Arrest someone! This stuff isn't funny!" said a barely stable Jack McKinnon.

The Sergeant sat open mouthed, and looked at his freaked-out friend.
Chapter 19

The sun was up early the next morning.

Even though he'd had a good nights sleep, no nightmares, in the spare room over the Majors' garage, Jack was still edgy as a cat flea on a dog.

He called home last night and talked to Rikki. He said goodnight to Harry, it kind of made his heart thump but he swallowed hard and carried on.

Can't quit now, he thought. He had to know what was going on. It had to stop!

"Have you got everything?" said Jeannie Majors as she drank her last cup of coffee. She was up early and made bacon, eggs, hash browns, and toast for the two men.

Things always look better on a full stomach.

"I've got everything I can think of, we filled the boat with gas last night, I got permission to use it today so I can follow Jack, if he decides to stay at the cabin I can come home. You packed us a lunch, we've got raingear if a squall comes up, and if worse comes to worse, I put my gun in my backpack."

"Don't even think of guns, this isn't cops and robbers you know."

"That's true, but when we get to Jack's cabin I want to be prepared for anything. Think of what's been happening; I don't even know if a gun would help?"

"Just having someone else with me will help," said Jack from the doorway. "I keep thinking there's something I'm not seeing. I hope you, being RCMP, will see what's wrong right away. I don't believe in curses or supernatural stuff like that, but there's something going on that I don't understand. And, why is it only happening to me?"

"Hang on there, buddy, remember, the ' _Mounties Always Get Their Man_ ', and I've got the paperwork to prove it," said his friend with a grin and a twinkle in his eye as he shifted the cruiser into 'drive' and pulled away.

Jack watched his friend and smiled. He really was one of the good ones, who else would volunteer for a shitty trip like this? Then he got into his own van and followed.

The early sun was cheerful, the weather crisp and clear. It was a beautiful spring day.

They pulled into town shortly after 9:00 am; Jack parked in the Merriweather grocery lot and locked up. He took his gear and walked over to the marina, the key for Pete Farmer's boat was still on the peg, just where he left it last night.

With key in hand, he went down to slot #43 and threw his gear on the rear seat of the speedboat. He didn't bring the propane or white gas, he knew he wouldn't be staying, he was planning on going home.

The idea was for Sergeant Majors to follow Jack up to his cabin and see if anything odd happened. If everything was okay, they'd go down lake to Scuff Peak and see if they could find the old cabin again.

It didn't seem like much of a plan, but what else was there?

Bill Majors backed his cop car with boat and trailer on the back down the ramp into the lake, put on the emergency brake in the vehicle and hopped out to push the boat into the water. He grabbed the long mooring rope from the front seat, turned the boat around and tied it to the small walkway beside the ramp.

Jack was already on the lake, gassed up and waiting.

He would lead. Bill would follow.

With the happenings of the past day, both men were apprehensive. They checked the weather report again, clear, little wind, small chop.

Most small lakes don't have a lot of foul weather. But, Andover Lake was big, 11 miles in area and 15 miles long. The wind, when it blew from the north could raise a high wave capable of overturning a small boat. The locals watched the weather carefully.

Jack wasn't surprised that his own boat turned over, but to not have it float up, that was peculiar. What bothered him most was where was the dog's body? It had to have floated up by now, where did it get to?

Jack led up lake to his cabin. Bill Majors followed behind in the Company boat.

Nothing happened.

After a half hour, they arrived at the McKinnon cabin. Jack docked the boat and tied it securely. He didn't want any 'accidental' accidents. Bill pulled in behind and took care to also tie his boat tightly.

The two men stood on the wharf and looked at the cabin. It didn't look any different than when Jack left it last fall. No doors pushed in, no broken windows. They both did a walk-around, and everything on the outside looked good.

Jack took the key to the cabin out of his pocket. As he approached, he began to sweat. The day wasn't getting any warmer but the perspiration was running off him. When he reached the front porch and put the key into the door lock, he was breathing heavily. The dread he felt almost overpowered him.

The Mountie came up from behind, and moved ahead. His gun was now out of his backpack and in the back of his belt. He paused at the door, drew the gun and entered the building.

Nothing there!

Everything just the way it was left.

Or... was it?

Two sets of eyes swung to the fireplace. A largish feathery black form was lying on the grate.

Jack McKinnon's face drained of color, as he stood rooted to the spot. He remembered laying kindling on the grate so the fire would be easy to start the following year. The wood would be dry; the cabin would warm up fast.

The Mountie, gun in hand carefully approached the fireplace. He looked down.

What's this?

"It's only a dead crow," called Bill, peering into the dark fireplace.

What a relief!

Birds sometimes flew into a cabin in the fall and were locked in unintentionally and died over winter.

"Hell no," Jack called from the bottom stair of the front porch, "it's black and dead, but it isn't a crow! Take a closer look."

Bill went to the windows along the south wall and opened the curtains. Then he went back and looked again.

Jack was down the path, into the boat, the motor almost started before Bill Majors could react.

"Okay, okay," he called to the man in the boat, "it's only a dead bird. Come on back Jack. I'll get rid of it for you."

"Leave it where it is, don't you know what that is?"

"Dead crow. So?"

"It's a dead Raven, I'm going to have to burn the cabin down!"

"Are you crazy? Over a dead bird? What's gotten into you?"

"Come down here and I'll tell you what I was told last year when some other spooky stuff happened, it wasn't bad like this, just plants that wouldn't grow right, and stuff disappeared, drove Rikki nuts."

"What does that have to do with a dead crow?"

"Quit calling it a crow, it's a raven, don't offend it, even if it is dead."

"Now you're not making sense Jack. I've known you for as long as you've been coming up here. I didn't know you were so superstitious."

"Superstition has nothing to do with it; it has everything to do with the Indians. Last year they chose a new medicine man, the old one died. The new one came and visited us. I just passed it off, we've had the cabin here for over ten years now, and no one ever complained before."

"What did he say? Did he threaten you?"

"No, he just said the Raven didn't like us to live so close to their Ancestral Burial Grounds. I didn't laugh at him, and I didn't yell at him, I just listened, and said I'd think about it. Well, now, I'm thinking!"

"Okay Jack, I don't know what else to do, I've never run into this before. But I do know strange things happen when you fool around with Ancient Indian Burial Grounds."

"What're you talking about?" Jack almost shouted, "I've never desecrated a graveyard of any sort, Christian, Indian, or any other kind. What do you mean?"

"I'm saying, we have to go see the Xaali'pp medicine man. We'll check every possibility. Think you're up to it? I'll make arrangements and tomorrow we'll go see my Bureau Chief and he'll fix it so we can speak to Running Wolf."

"The new man is Running Wolf? I thought it was Archie J.," said Jack, "are there two now?"

"No, no, only one new shaman, a lot of First Nation People have two names these days. One is an Indian name and the other one that he can use in the white man's world. If you don't have a last name, things can get complicated when you apply for a drivers licence, or have to sign legal papers," Bill said as he busied himself with the boat.

"I didn't know," Jack said with a troubled look on his face.

* * * *

"Now remember," said the Sergeant next morning to Jack who was sitting in the passenger seat of the cop car, "let me do the talking."

The two men were waiting in the Xaali'pp Great House parking lot. The RCMP Detachment Chief arranged for them to meet with Chief George, the new medicine man and Band Council members first thing this morning.

"Remember keep cool. No confrontations about who owns the land, dead ravens or anything else. I've been told you aren't well liked by the band any more," Bill said, "keep quiet no matter what's being said. If someone asks you a direct question, answer, but no big speeches about who owns what."

Jack McKinnon looked at his friend who had just morphed into Big Bad RCMP! Wow, he thought, I wish I could do that.

The two men got out of the vehicle and stood talking to Chief George. He wasn't too happy with the Mountie because of the embarrassment of having to get his mother and son out of the Carling Lockup.

They both avoided talking about it.

Although it took the RCMP the better part of yesterday to arrange this meeting, things looked calm today, everyone was smiling.

Finally, the gathering began to get under way. Chairs were brought out of the Great House and the men sat in a loose circle.

The meetinghouse was situated on old Cayoosh Flats land. Progress came in the form of a gold strike on the Fraser River in 1858. The area was renamed in 1860, after the Lil'mat Nations Chief, but it was hard for the white men to pronounce and deteriorated into 'Carling'. It quickly became an important town on the route to the Cariboo and Fraser River goldfields. Until the Cariboo Road reached Lyon, 16,000 gold seekers were outfitted in Carling. Time passed and the land became a municipality in 1946 when it was incorporated as a village.

In days past, this kind of meeting was held sitting on the ground, around a fire, smoking the Great Pipe, but that was then and this was now.

Besides, the ground was cold and wet. There was a freak late spring snowfall yesterday. It would be gone by nightfall today, but it made the ground damp and muddy.

According to custom, the Chief spoke first. Thank god, it wasn't a long speech. Next came the shaman, Running Wolf, he spoke in the old Xaali'pp language and you could tell not everyone understood everything he said, but they all nodded when he finished. When he sat down, he looked at his hands, not at the speaker. His fingers never stopped moving.

Jack watched and was spellbound.

The meeting broke up with lots of talk, but no decision and the men took the chairs back to the Great House.

Bill Majors and Jack sat in the cruiser in the parking lot talking it over and trying to understand what they just heard from the shaman and the lawyer.

"Bill, have I got this right? They want me to go away, and take my cabin with me. They don't care how I do it, burn it down, float it down the lake. I can't just abandon it. It has to be gone, building, wharf, even the swing on the big tree. I don't understand?"

"Take it easy, we'll go back to the office and I'll make a phone call to Land Registry, there must be something somewhere about who the true owner of this land was, and could he sell it to you. From whom did you buy it? I'll find out if the company is still in business."

"We didn't buy through a Real Estate Agent; we bought from a local, someone my dad knew. Rikki has all that at home, she's good at keeping track of things and I'm sure she'll find the papers right away. Let's go back to Merriweather and I'll call her and get her started looking for them. There has to be some information about our property. I don't remember being told it was in the middle of anybody's graveyard. I never would have bought there if I'd known that. Who buys summer property in the middle of someone else's graveyard?"

As they were pulling away, Jack glanced over to the huge Totem Pole that told the history of the Xaali'pp Band.

There was a large golden Ridgeback standing in front of it. It looked just like Big Guy. The dog turned and started to walk away; he stopped, turned and looked back at Jack...

The red sun was still high in the noon sky when Jack McKinnon got out of the car in a daze. He paused by the Totem in front of the Great House. His eyes could only see the big golden Ridgeback.

He had to know!

There could be no answer for all the other questions until he found out what happened to Big Guy. In his head, he knew BG was dead, but in his heart, it didn't matter. He had to follow.

The big canine led him around back of the Great House to an old abandoned path that was overgrown with wild roses and stunted wheat. You could see no one used it for a long, long time. The dog knew where he was going; he kept just out of range. Jack hurried to keep up.

Finally, they came to an ancient, decaying pit house that lay in a natural grove of towering old fir trees.

The dog stood and looked at the entrance; the steps down were broken beyond repair. The area around the underground house was overgrown with brambles and dead brush. The People left this common house many, many moons ago.

Why did BG stop here?

Jack stood still; he was unable to look away. Slowly the pit house grew newer, the forest growth younger, wild fruit trees and lush green bushes with berries filled the grove.

The path was wide and straight; the sun was shining.

People were talking.

He understood the words.

There was to be a gathering of the Ganhaada! The Raven Clan sounded happy, and excited. They were getting ready to perform great feats of valour.

They were getting ready for war!

This couldn't be. Who had enough status to call a war council?

The ancient and venerated Tsimshaan Clan... that's who!

While he stood watching, he heard a faint sweet voice calling him, "Jack, Jack McKinnon, come home, come home right now!"

He looked around and everything was old again.

No dog, no people talking; just a heavy dusk settling into the abandoned grove. Panic began to crawl up the small of Jack's back and nestled in the hair that was standing on end at the back of his neck.

Someone or something was watching him!

Frantically he raced back up the overgrown path to the Great House. Why was it taking so long to get there? The building seemed to be just out of reach, the faster he ran the farther away it was.

A black bird appeared in the sky ahead of him and he stopped when he saw that it was a Raven. Something dangled from its' claws. The bird sat on a branch, stretched his leg out and dropped it.

It landed on Jack and flung him spread-eagled onto his belly, his face pushed into the mud and grass of the path, he rolled over to get his breath. When he saw what pushed him, his blood ran cold.

It was the curved white shinbone of a wolf. Each end was carved into a stylized human head, one end had its' mouth open, the other's was shut. The strip of rawhide attached to either end was old and failing.

Jack was dizzy from the fall, but he still knew what he was seeing; it was bad, very, very bad.

He was looking at a 'soul catcher'.

He looked up through the trees and saw the sun right overhead; it must be 12:00 o'clock! How could that be right?

In a daze, he got up and staggered towards the Great House, it didn't move this time.

He made his way to the parking lot on other side of the building and there was Bill Majors standing beside his car, a troubled look on his face.

"Where the hell did you get to?" he said.

"I don't know."

"I've been over all the grounds; everyone's been looking for you. The People at the Great House had no idea where you were. What's going on?"

"How long have I been gone?"

"All morning."

"I got a call from Mrs. McKinnon," said the Sergeant, "she said everything was fine, and you should stay as long as you liked."

"Really? How did you get a call from her? You don't have one of those fancy phones in your car," said a very uneasy Jack McKinnon.

"There's a message over at the Great House. I suppose she called the office in Carling and they told her you were here."

The color drained from his face! Rikki would never do that, he said under his breath. He knew something was happening again. His wife would never call the RCMP Detachment in Carling, or the Great House.

"I heard her call to me back there on the path, how could she be talking to you on the phone at the same time she was talking to me?"

The Bill Majors he was looking at became flustered and said, "whatever" got into the car and left Jack standing in the middle of the parking lot.

But... as he looked around it wasn't a parking lot anymore, he was alone in an open field.
Chapter 20

Meanwhile at the Adler household...

"Have you kids got your homework done yet?" Carol Adler said as she finished preparations for the Saturday evening meal. "Don't forget to wash; I don't want poster paint from your homework project all over everywhere. Karen, I'm just going to run over to Mrs. McKinnon's for a few moments, I won't be long."

Carol was worried about her friend. I'm going to be upbeat, cheerful, and only ask about Harry, Carol lectured herself, no more spooky stuff, no sir, not by me.

With this earnest talking to, she went out the back door, through the lane, and up the McKinnon back stairs.

There was only one small light on, no music, no noise of any sort. Carol peeked through the window in the door and looked into the kitchen to see if anyone was home. There was no one in the room... it was empty.

She turned to go back home when the door opened a small crack. A hand shot out, grabbed her, and pulled her into the house.

"Get down, don't stand up, they'll see us," Rikki whispered crawling on her hands and knees over to the basement door. "Come on down, they can't see the light, and won't know we're here."

"What's going on?" said her bewildered neighbor down on the floor on all fours creeping after her. "Why can't I stand up, who's going to see the light? Why haven't you called the cops?"

"Can't call the cops."

"What are you talking about? Where's Jack? Where's Harry?"

"Harry's at my folks, this started right after Jack went back to the lake to figure out what's going on."

"Okay, now you've lost me, what do you mean, 'figure out what's going on'?"

"I've been so scared," she said pausing half way down the stairs, "I didn't even want to go outside to go to your house..."

"This has got to stop," said Carol sitting down on the top step, "I don't know what it is, but it has to stop! Where's Jack? I'll call him and tell him his wife is scared out of her wits, he better come home and make this stop!"

"Can't do that."

"What? Why not?"

"He never did call home; I phoned the grocery store and Freddy doesn't know where he is anymore either."
Chapter 21

"I'm sorry, Rikki," Bill Majors said later that day, "I really don't know where he went. One minute he was in the car with me in the parking lot of the Xaali'pp Band Great House, the next he was out the door heading toward their big Totem Pole. I don't know what he saw, I didn't see anything unusual.

"I got an emergency call and left. I knew he could leave a call for me at my office to pick him up; the Great House has a phone. I'd have gone and got him if he'd called," Bill said, "I don't know where he went. I thought he got a ride back to Merriweather with someone else."

"I just want to know," he said, concern edging his voice, "did Jack call you about the papers that show who you bought the land and the cabin from?"

"Bill, I don't care about the cabin or the land or anything else. I need to know, where is my husband? I need to know now!" she said, stress making her voice almost an octave higher.

"What's happening there is everything alright? Jack will probably be home by nightfall today, cold and hungry with a good story to tell."

No laughter on the other end... just what sounded like a small sob and a big intake of breath.

"I wasn't going to tell you this Bill, but I've been hiding in the basement since Jack went up to the cabin. Every time I try to leave, I get goose bumps, and the hair on the back of my neck rises. It makes me so nervous; I'm in a cold sweat. I know someone is watching the house!

"Thank goodness my neighbor Carol Adler came over this afternoon, I've been going crazy. My phone went dead. She called the phone company and asked why they turned off the service. You know what they told her? They told her the house was derelict and slated to be torn down this Friday, so they turned the service off. When Carol asked who told them the house was derelict, they said they couldn't give that kind of information to the general public and hung up. Carol said I should get a lawyer. But the phone service came back right after she hung up. I don't know what's going on.

"Bill, I'm so scared! What should I do? Jack has to come home now. I don't care what happens to the cabin. What if they start doing things to our son? He's at my parent's home right now, but who's to say he'll be safe, or will anybody be safe?"

Bill Majors didn't know what to say... he didn't know who 'they' were either.

So he said good-by, and that he'd tell Jack to call no matter what time he got back, and he'd let her know if he didn't arrive...
Chapter 22

At Merriweather early next morning, the grocery owner's son started opening up for business. He remembered his promise to Jack McKinnon to wake him if he was still in bed. Walking to the back of the store, he stood by the sleeping man and said, "Mr. McKinnon, wake up! You said to call you if you weren't up when I opened the store," Freddy gave him a small push on his shoulder.

Didn't help, he still slept.

Jack staggered in last night just before closing, and asked to sleep in the cot again. Today he looked like he was unconscious rather than just asleep. Freddy shook him again, harder, but still no response.

Back in the store, after unlocking the door, he put the display sign that showed what was on sale outside on the sidewalk. Then he pulled the little shade on the door up so everyone would know the store was open for business. After a little thought, he went back to see if there was any change in the man in the cot.

What to do now?

Then he remembered, any problems, call home.

So, he did.

* * * *

The small town of Merriweather didn't have a hospital of its own, but the local RCMP stationed at Carling had a lot of First Aid. When Bill heard ' _the request for assistance_ ' and asked who was sick, he headed for the grocery store.

He was worried about his friend; he didn't call last night, so he didn't call Rikki.

No one called Rikki.

Bill ran over the events of the last two days as he drove to Merriweather, he knew Jack came from Langley day before yesterday morning. He only had Friday off work, and had to get to the cabin, do his chores, stay both nights and go home on Sunday.

Today was Sunday!

The detour they took on Saturday to go to the meeting at the Xaali'pp Great House was supposed to clear up a lot of misunderstanding. Seems it only caused more.

Jack was due in Kamloops early Monday morning on his regular route. The Bradner Construction Company was running out of printers ink and toner for it's' brand new printer and FAX machine, there was talk of a big order and lots of correspondence and plans going back and forth.

Jack promised he'd be there on time...

* * * *

"Where is he," said Sergeant Majors, as he entered the grocery store in Merriweather.

"What's going on?" Freddy said, as he pointed to the back.

The Sergeant stood by the cot, Jack looked terrible. He was mumbling, and thrashed around as though he was running.

"More going on here than my bit of First Aid can fix," Bill Majors said to Freddy, time to call an ambulance!"
Chapter 23

"Rikki," said Sergeant Bill as they were standing in the parking lot of the hospital in the town of Hope, "I'm sorry you had to make the trip up. The doctor here, is arranging to have Jack see a specialist when he's at Grace Hospital in Burnswood. It's the biggest one this side of Harrisburg General in the City, they'll have latest in medical care there. They should be able to tell what's wrong with him and he'll be cured in no time. The Hope Hospital is just waiting for an open bed for him."

"Thank you for looking after him, Bill, I don't know what we would've done if you weren't here to help. How did Jack get into this state?"

"I don't know, but when I saw him yesterday morning, I knew something was very wrong. I still don't think he's sick. It seems to me he's living something terrible over and over. He keeps shouting but the words are garbled and don't make sense.

"The doctors' here gave him a sedative yesterday to calm him down but when that wore off; he was back at it again. It's almost like he can't give up."

"The doctor said he's lost somewhere in his mind. I don't know what that means, but he said I should come. So I did."

"Just remember," said Bill, as he walked towards the door, cap in hand, "if I can help, let me know."

Rikki said goodbye to their good friend and entered the hospital.

Not sure of what was going on, she checked into the Red Lake Motel in Hope earlier that day. When they asked how many days she'd be with them, she said she didn't know.

The desk clerk knew who she was and understood, just put a question mark under 'Length of Stay'.

She was glad the hospital and motel were within walking distance of each other, she needed the time to push worry and fear away. She was going to be strong! Jack needed her and she swore she'd never let him down.

Spring flowering wild apple trees lined the entrance road to the hospital in Hope. Green grass and old bricked walkways surrounded the building. It was a peaceful place, they didn't get many automobile accidents, mostly it was young children and tonsils, or old folks needing long term care.

Rikki peeked into some of the rooms as she walked down the long hall. The atmosphere was calm and friendly. There were patients in various stages of illness; they looked clean and well cared for. In her heart, she knew they were doing the best they could.

They were trying to help, but nothing they did worked.

While he didn't get worse, neither was he getting better, so, after a few days of bed rest and no improvement it was time to move him to the big city where they would know how to treat him.

Waiting by Jack's bed for the ambulance, she was trying to be strong; she sat and watched her sleeping husband hoping for some, any, improvement. Suddenly he sat up, his eyes opened and he looked around. He wasn't seeing the hospital room, he was seeing something dark and dreadful. His back arched and he threw himself forward falling half off the bed. His hollow scream of pain as his wrist cracked pierced the quiet of the room and set Rikki's nerves raging.

The cord to summon help was on the far side of the bed, but it didn't matter, the nurse, the whole floor, heard the agonizing scream.

What was happening to her capable take-charge husband?

The nurse hurried in. "I'm sorry Mrs. McKinnon, but our Hospital Administrator hasn't seen this before, the doctor's think he's not aware of where he is or what's going on," she said, checking the IV inserted in the back of his hand but not realizing the other wrist was broken.

"I'll call an orderly and we'll put him back in bed. Maybe you'd be more comfortable in the waiting room while we straighten this out?

"No thanks, I'll just wait outside the door; I don't want to leave him alone."

The nurse was trying to gather her courage to speak to the patient's wife before he went to the city hospital.

Finally she approached her, "please," she said, "come and sit down out here in the alcove, I don't think I'm supposed to tell you this, but I belong to the Slalish Indian band in North Vancouver. I've seen this before, but modern medicine doesn't believe in Indian curses, so no one's looked into it. But I think you should go and see a Royal Woman or a Shaman. There's a new one in the Xaali'pp Band just outside Carling, he's done some wonderful things since he came from Ontario last year."

"What do you think he could do that modern doctors can't?" Rikki said, looking up with interest kindling in her eyes. "How can I meet him? Do you think he could help? I'll try anything!"

"Please don't say I told you, I'd lose my job. I live by Ridge Lake now and nursing jobs are hard to get in this little hospital."

"I won't say anything to anyone about why I want to talk to a medicine man, thank you for telling me this; no one else has been able to suggest anything. Who should I ask for?"

Rikki returned to the hospital room, her husband was back in bed, all was in order. He looked peaceful and calm. Rikki looked at his arm remembering the small sound she heard, but his arm looked okay now. She stood by the side of his bed and a tear slid down the side of her face as she leaned in and kissed him. There was no recognition, just quiet breathing.

Earlier she thought she should have waited until they took him to Burnswood Hospital, but now she had new purpose; there was no time to lose.

With firm determination, she walked down the long corridor to the 'outside' world. Finally, there was something she could do.

No one saw her tears in the parking lot as she stood looking at her blue Volvo. "I never thought I'd ever have to drive all this way by myself," she said to the steering wheel as she got in and started the motor. But, here she was, and her husband couldn't help her anymore.

She took the little piece of paper the young nurse gave her out of her purse and looked at the name written there.

Should she ask for Running Wolf or Archie J.? She didn't know... but she did know someone who would be able to help her find out.

* * * *

"Well, hi there, Rikki," boomed the owner of 'Betty's Hilltop Cafe'.

"Haven't seen you since last year, how've ya been? Jack was in a few days ago, looked a bit peaked. He said he was so tired he could sleep for a month. Did he get all the work he planned doing at the cabin done?"

"Jack's in the hospital in Hope, they're going to move him to the Grace Hospital in Burnswood as soon as a bed is open."

"I didn't know he was so sick?"

"Well, he really isn't sick; the doctors don't know what's wrong with him. He's been in a state since the boat sank and BG drowned."

"Sit over there in the back booth, I'll get you a cup of coffee, I think you better have a sandwich too, you look all done in."

"I'm alright, but coffee would be nice. What I really need from you is..."

"Anything, anything at all, you know Jack and I go a long way back, I'll do anything I can to help him."

The big man lumbered over to his station by the cash register and gave the man standing there his change for the hamburger, fry's and coffee he just finished.

Then he turned and taking a clean cup from the bin, filled it with strong black coffee. He grabbed some creamers and headed back to the booth.

"Did you really mean you'd help?" Rikki said, stirring her cup vigorously, "I need some... ah, different kind of help."

"Rikki, say the word! What's going on?" said 'Betty' taking off his big white apron. At six foot 5 inches, and 300 lbs, not many of the town's folk called him 'Betty'.

When he took over the cafe, three years ago, he decided it was too expensive to change the neon sign. Some young bucks thought it was funny to call the new male proprietor 'Betty'. After a 'serious talk or two out back', very few called him 'Betty'. Now they called him, Mr. Seymour.

"Mike, take over," he called to the man standing at the restaurant stove, "I'm going out for awhile, if I'm not back at closing, just take the money home and we'll count it tomorrow. Don't forget to check the freezer, and remember to lock the door."

"Now," he said to the woman seated opposite him in the booth, "where do we start?"

"I need to find a medicine man," she said, with tears in her eyes.

* * * *

Rikki spent the night in Hopes' only motel. Not only did the worry about Jack keep her awake and fretting, but the flashing sign in front of the Red Lake Motel drove her crazy. When the neon sign lit up, there was a loud buzz, when the sign went out, little pings. It blinked on and off all night long.

The owner of the motel assured Rikki, his only customer, he would wake her at 6:00 am; but he forgot.

'Betty' sitting outside in his Jeep next day, waited. He knew she should be up, but didn't have the nerve to knock on her door. Finally, at 7:00 am he went to the office and asked if she'd left a 'wake up call', the owner got all flustered and ran to knock on her door.

"Nothing important happens here, what's the rush?" he muttered under his breath.

Rikki dressed as fast as she could. Breakfast and a strong cup of 'Betty's' coffee at his cafe, and she was ready for anything.

The trip to Carling passed in comfortable silence; she and 'Betty' were going to pick up Sergeant Majors. Between the two of them, she knew she had every angle covered.

The Mountie had not been idle either; he called Chief George the previous day and arranged to meet at the Esso garage just outside Carling, on Hwy 97. It seemed like a neutral place. What he didn't do was tell the Chief that the real reason for the meeting was to get in touch with the new Medicine Man, Running Wolf.

The more the Mountie thought about what was going on, the more he worried. Several people told him the easterner was a powerful shaman. He was going around to all the bands and clans in the area, talking up the idea of joining forces, and taking back their land.

When he first heard the rumour, he assumed it was just 'beer talk'. Things had progressed too far for that kind of action. There were treaties that were making their way through the courts, very slowly, but still, eventually there would be solutions.

'Betty's' Jeep pulled into the RCMP parking lot in Carling, they got out and met the Sergeant by the main door.

"Hey 'Betty'?" said Bill.

He wouldn't admit it, but 'Betty' was getting used to the name, and besides, it was good advertising for the cafe. Tourists always looked twice at 'Betty' the proprietor of _The Best Fast Food in Town._

"Hi yourself," said the big man, pulling himself up to his full 6'5" height, it was always a thrill to be taller than those in authority. But he knew he wasn't in as good shape as the Mountie in front of him.

"Bill, did you get in touch with Chief George? Jack and I have known him for a long time, I'd hate to think he has something to do with this," Rikki said, as she walked to the cruiser's passenger side door.

"I've got a meeting set up for 11:30 this morning; we'd better get over there."

"Over there?"

"Oh, sorry, didn't I say? We're going to meet him over on Hwy 97, at the Esso garage. He didn't sound very excited about it, but he said he'd be there."

* * * *

The Hereditary Chief of the Xaali'pp Band, an offshoot of the formidable Tsimskaan Clan, sat in his black pickup truck. He knew this meeting was going to be trouble.

He didn't like trouble.

He kept telling The People, he was an hereditary chief, not an elected one, and he didn't want any problems with the Provincial Constabulary. He kept telling them, if you didn't bother the RCMP they didn't bother you. But nobody, (it seemed) listened.

As he sat and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, he ran the events of the past few weeks over in his mind.

Trouble, he thought again, that's what's coming, more trouble, and its' name is Running Wolf!

And worse, his mother told him this would happen. He was too lenient; he didn't check the lineage of the newcomer carefully enough. Tradition said you had to have a Xaali'pp blood relative, living or dead.

They were just a small band, an offshoot of the powerful Tsimskaan Clan; their old medicine man, _Makes Peace_ was well known and had the reputation of being very wise in the 'old' ways. He was a kind and understanding man, helpful to all who came to him, even those who were, 'No People'. But he died suddenly in 1990. Even the white man's medicine in the hospital in Hope couldn't help him.

His only son, _Wise Owl_ , ready and trained, was killed in an unusual automobile accident. The American police force in Anchorage, Alaska said it was a strange case, and could offer no insight into the reason for the crash.

Some People thought it was the Manitus, the spirit of the ancestors, who sent the young shaman to them. He satisfied most of their traditions, was qualified and ready to fill the old healer's moccasins right away.

How convenient...and it all only took a year.

Even though he was an Algonquian Indian and his ancestors fought on the American side in the war of 1812, the band decided to let go of 'yesterday' and welcomed him.

Their new shaman was a powerful Spirit Force in Eastern Canada. He was the one that encouraged the Algonquian Indians in their difficulties with the Provincial Government of Quebec. Also, he was involved when the Canadian Federal Government moved to prevent the Mohawk Indians of Kanesatake, Quebec from building and running a casino on their reservation in 1990, and called out the Canadian Army. The ruckus made the papers all across Canada.

Federal Law Enforcement made life so miserable for him there, that he came west.

Just at the right time.

It was magical the way it happened for the new shaman, as it was a complicated choosing when there was no son trained and ready.

Chief George knew in his heart he'd done a poor job of selecting the new medicine man. He had taken the easy way, not the right way.

The easterner seemed to appear just when they needed him. He had all the right answers, and the enthusiasm, and... he said his was a powerful medicine man's blood line, it came down directly from Tecumseh. It was not their bloodline, thought Chief George, but still, it was ancient and powerful. No one objected that this medicine man was not born a Xaali'pp brother.

The Chief sat in his truck and worried. He'd been worrying ever since Archie J., aka Running Wolf, told him his dream.

He said he saw The People rising for freedom behind a _NEW_ kind of man _._

A Warrior kind of Man.

A Medicine Man!

Trouble, thought the chief, I hate trouble.

And now, the white man's law was involved, what did Archie J. do?

Jack McKinnon's problems started when Archie J. arrived, but he wasn't their medicine man then. When the chief heard all the talk about a boat that sank and mountains that moved, he didn't care. Who would believe a shaman from his small Xaali'pp clan could do those things. We're just an offshoot of the Tsimskaan clan, he thought to himself, of no consequence at all.

Did Running Wolf really cast a spell, or was it just chance that the white man ran into a squall on the lake. Did he really call up the ancestors and have them torment Jack McKinnon by killing his dog?

Running Wolf told The People this was all his work and they believed him.

The usual trouble for the tribe was, a few of the young bucks drank a little too much on a Saturday night and whooped around Merriweather in their trucks. They would land in the small lock-up in the town of Carling. He'd have a talk with the Elders, and they'd call the parents and the fine would be payed. Sometimes it worked and things quieted down, but sometimes it didn't. And some said, "quit bothering us, the boys don't listen anyway".

But, this was big trouble; with a capital 'B'! And, he didn't know what to do about it.

Running Wolf was going to the other bands, getting them all worked up, too. What was he supposed to do about that? No one listened to him. How do you control a medicine man, especially one that's getting so powerful? He's convinced some of the bands they can just chase the white man away, and all will be as in the old days.

That's never going to happen.

Besides, not one person in any band would want to go back to before electricity, especially since 1985 when they got TV.

I love my TV programs, he thought, what's better than supper on a tray in front of the TV? I'm learning things I didn't know, I didn't know?

"Chief George, Chief George," Sergeant Majors said rapping on the truck window. "You awake?"

"Oh, hi, sorry, must have dozed off," he said, rolling down the truck window. "What can I do for you?"

Standing beside the cop was a small white woman with a worried look on her face.

"Hello, Chief George, I don't suppose you remember me? My husband is Jack McKinnon. We have the last property on the east side of Andover Lake, just this side of the old graveyard."

The Chief looked at the woman and he knew this was going to be a bad day. "Hi there Mrs. McKinnon, I'm sorry, for a moment there I didn't recognize you. How have you been?"

"I'm fine, but it's my husband I'm worrying about, Jack is in the hospital and they don't know what's wrong with him."

"Sorry to hear, ma'am, Jack was a good man."

"Please don't say, 'was', he still is a good man, but he needs your help. We need to find the right medicine man, we, that is I, was told since the white man's medicine isn't fixing his problem; maybe it's an Indian curse, something a medicine man could undo."

"I'm real sorry, Mrs. McKinnon, our medicine men don't do that, I don't know of anyone who'd be able to. Our tradition tells us, when the Great White Mother, Queen Victoria came to our land, she outlawed that kind of thing."

The chief was standing outside his truck now with his hands behind his back. He had his fingers crossed for the big fat lie he just told.

Now he knew; trouble with a capital 'T'!

"This isn't getting us anywhere," said Sergeant Majors, "let's get a cup of coffee and talk this out."

It was a better idea than standing in a public parking lot where everyone could see who was talking to whom. With not much choice in Carling, and not wanting to call attention, they walked down the block to the small Kozy Korner Kafe.

They sat drinking coffee and trying to talk. Chief George wasn't admitting the shaman from his tribe would be able to lift the curse that was on her husband. He didn't even want to admit they had a shaman, or that Running Wolf was his name. He vacillated, waffled, and changed the subject, but Rikki was firm.

The feeling that something was wrong and getting worse was making her more and more frantic.

Finally, Sergeant Majors put his cup down and said, "Calm down Rikki, let him speak."

Turning to the Chief, he said, "Enough of this, are you going to help her or not?"

"I wish I could, I don't know anyone who can take a curse off someone. We didn't do that in the old days, and we sure don't do it now," said the harassed chief, lying through his teeth and looking down at the floor, wishing he were somewhere else.

Anywhere else!

No matter what he said, there was trouble with someone.

"I think you know what's happening to my husband, I think you're afraid!" Rikki shouted, jumping up from the table.

She picked up her half full cup of coffee and looked at the Chief.

"Lady, why should I be afraid? I don't know what happened to your boat, I'm sorry your dog died, but I wasn't anywhere near the lake the day your husband had the accident."

Rikki stood by the table, ready to dump her coffee all over the big chief when a sudden cold shiver ran down her back. She turned away and looked around the cafe.

There in the back booth sat a small unremarkable Indian. When he looked up from his cup of coffee he began to grow, his eyes focused on the Chief.

Chief George jerked out of his seat and without another word ran for the door.

Only Rikki saw what happened. And now; she was unable to speak of it.

The Indian, a small smile on his face returned to the normal size of someone of Algonquian, Pikwakanagan descent.

"How can I help you folks?" he said, getting up and approaching the table, "my name is Archie J. I understand you've been looking for me."
Chapter 24

Jack McKinnon was dreaming bad dreams. He saw himself in a hospital bed, and knew he had to leave. He had to get back to the cabin. He thrashed around in the bed trying to pull the IV in the back of his hand out. He saw a nurse come in adjust the bed sheets and check the IV, he knew he had to be still. Alone now, he saw himself get out of bed, get his clothes out of the closet, dress and leave the room. He turned left and there was a stairwell. At the bottom was a door, he saw himself go through, he was now outside.

He began to walk; he had to find the cabin.

He was doing the right thing.

It called! He had to go!

Then he saw himself standing on the porch of the cabin, the door and frame were pushed in, the 'soul catcher' over the door was hanging upside down, it was just the way he knew it was supposed to be. The need to be inside was overpowering, even so, he hesitated on the porch.

A loving voice was hovering over him.

"Jack, Jack McKinnon. Please come home now!"

"I can't come right now, Rikki, I have to go inside the cabin and find a curtain to burn, I'm cold and wet."

"I don't care, you come home now!"

"Aw Rikki, I'm tired, I'm just going to lie down for a while, I'll come home later."

"That's not good enough, you come home now! Harry needs you, he loves you, you promised!"

"Come on Rikki, you know I love him. I'll come, right in a minute."

He saw himself look around and realized he wasn't in front of the cabin anymore, he was standing on a beach he didn't know, Big Guy was walking towards him.

But it wasn't Big Guy, this dog looked mean, and he was growling deep down in his throat. The fur on the ridge of his back was standing straight up showing he was getting ready to fight. He paced in front of the man, keeping him there.

Jack McKinnon felt himself slipping into oblivion...he knew there would be no more worries about wife or child, he didn't have to go home, he wasn't important anymore.
Chapter 25

The grocery store in Merriweather was humming again; Freddy was in his element. Gossip said Jack McKinnon was being sent to the hospital in Burnswood as soon as they had a bed. It must really be bad they said; only the serious cases went to Grace Hospital.

Some curious folk, like the man Jack rented the boat from, went to see 'Betty' at the cafe. He knew he was a friend, and maybe had a little more information.

"Hi there, how about a cup of coffee?" said Pete Farmer from the Seed & Feed, "I just heard they're sending Jack McKinnon to the Hospital in Burnswood? Must be bad to have to go all the way to the city?"

"Yep," said 'Betty', "you want cream and sugar with that coffee?"

"Oh, yes, I guess so, I only ask because he rented my boat and we can't find the key, not that it's that big a deal. I have an extra one at home. It's not like a tourist didn't ever forget to leave the key when they left," he said with a conspiratorial smirk on his face, it's just better if I don't have to have another key cut.

"Yep," said 'Betty'.

"So, do you know why he's going to GH?"

"Yep," said 'Betty'.

"O.K., you goin' to tell me why?"

"Nope," said 'Betty'.

"I swear, it's not like you to keep news to yourself, I need to know why he's going, I need that key."

"You want a donut with that coffee?"

"You really aren't going to tell, are you?"

"Nope," said 'Betty'.
Chapter 26

The body of Jack McKinnon lay in the back of the ambulance that was taking him to the hospital in Burnswood.

He was beginning to feel funny, not exactly sick funny, but odd funny, like he was returning from a long, long trip. When he tried to turn over, he realized he couldn't.

Sensations collided in his head, why did it feel like he was moving, and why was it so dark? He could feel the bed, and knew he was in the back of the Merriweather grocery store.

He remembered that.

Were they having an earthquake? Where was everybody?

The more he tried to move, the more he realized how tightly secured he was.

_Get out of here_ , his senses screamed; he didn't know what was going on but he knew it wasn't right, and he began to thrash around in earnest.

Then he felt a needle in his arm.

"Something's wrong," he said, just before he lost consciousness.

The ambulance attendant silently sent up a prayer of thanks that he was finally able to get the sedative into his thrashing patients arm. He wasn't told he could still be active.

Procedure said, it was the doctor's call to sedate him for the whole ride to the hospital in Burnswood, or not.

"It's okay now, Pete," he called to the ambulance driver, "I finally got some happy juice in him. I'm going to complain to the Super, they should've told us the patient was active, real active!" said Brian, the ambulance attendant.

"I'm glad you were able to calm him by yourself, I don't want to stop on a road that has this many curves. Every time we come up here, I'm on edge until we get to Lacy. We're still another half hour out of GH, make sure he sleeps. Did they tell you what his problem was? Did they say he had broken bones?"

"They didn't say much just that they couldn't help him, and wished us luck. Not sure what that means. I'm going to monitor him closely. No more surprises."

The rest of the trip was uneventful.

They took him to Emergency to give the attending doctor a chance to check his vitals and schedule some tests. He seemed like a healthy case, except for his broken wrist, that is.
Chapter 27

"Hi 'Betty', any coffee left?" Bill Majors said sliding into an empty booth in the Merriweather cafe. "I missed lunch, how about a ham on rye with lettuce and mayo, maybe a side of fry's if you have any left. I had a good breakfast, but when I pulled into town and passed your place, the frying onions made me hungry."

"Onions are good for business! Any time, Serge, any time."

The Sergeant looked at 'Betty', and wanted to talk about their meeting with Archie J., but he was unable to start the conversation. So he asked about the business, made a comment about the weather, and brought up the poor showing of the B.C. Lions football team.

Thank god, the food finally came; he was running out of things he could say.

"Ah, Serge," said 'Betty', I was going to talk to you about the other day up in Carling, but it's not important. I can't remember what happened to Rikki. I know she came to see me, but I don't have a clue about what. Did she go home? Why did we go there anyway? I hope you didn't get into trouble."

"I've been wondering that too," he said, "I can't remember what happened to her either. As soon as I finish my sandwich, I'll call the office and see if they know. Why did we all go to Carling in the first place? Probably not important."

"Your right, no worries."

The Sergeant finished his lunch but the feeling that something was missing kept niggling at him. He wanted to ask 'Betty' if he was having the same feeling, but couldn't.

He paid his bill and walked out of the cafe.
Chapter 28

"I get lost every time I come to Burnswood. Grace Hospital, it's so big," said Rikki McKinnon, as she and her friend Carol walked down the hall, checking room numbers.

They were here to see Rikki's husband, Jack McKinnon. The doctors at the Hospital in Hope had no idea what was wrong with the patient, and knew there was a better chance of analysis in a bigger hospital. This condition never presented before, so was not familiar in the rural hospital.

"Hi sweetheart," she said to her husband as they entered his room. She was bringing a crossword puzzle book and the current Burnswood Sun newspaper to him, "you look wonderful, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I slept, and I know I should know you, but tell me your name again?" said a very subdued patient. He felt terrible, he knew this beautiful young woman expected him to remember her, but he didn't. He had absolutely no idea who the other one was either.

He kept telling the doctors, "this treatment is not working!"

He still didn't remember anything or anyone, but they just said, "take it easy, it'll all come back."

"Jack, I brought some pictures you might want to see, this is our son Harry, this picture was taken last May on his 5th birthday," said his wife. "We had a cake and a little party for him at preschool, and then went out for pizza with my folks."

Jack took the pictures and looked at the serious little boy blowing out candles on the Cowboy Cake. It was homemade, you could tell; love made it.

"Look at this one;" said his wife, "it's on the beach in Oahu, Hawaii. We went there for our honeymoon; you learned to body surf, we had such fun."

"Have I seen these pictures before? Leave them and I'll look at them again. Thanks for the puzzle book and newspaper. Where did you say we were?"

"We're in Burnswood, aren't we Carol," said Rikki smoothing the blanket on her husband's bed, "you're home now. We live in Langley; it's on the other side of the Fraser River. Look out the window; you can see it from here."

"I thought I was in Merriweather," he said very subdued, "maybe you could find out for me when the next bus leaves for there. I need to be in Merriweather. I have to find my dog."

The two women looked at each other, and one began to cry.
Chapter 29

Five months later

The group of Indians sat around the main hall in the Great House on the Raven clan reserve. There was the chief and/or medicine man from every clan in the Tsimskaan' hereditary lands. The Eagle and Raven clans had the most representation, but they were not the oldest.

One of the ancient medicine men asked, "who called this meeting?" No one answered, they knew they had to attend; it seemed no one could ask why.

Time passed and a hush fell over the group.

The big doors at the end of the room opened and an assembly of young, painted warriors entered. Behind them, by himself, was a small man robed in the old Algonkin medicine man's Bear Skin and Eagle Feathers.

The warriors sat down in a circle.

The medicine man stood in the centre.

He pulled his robe high around his shoulders and began to chant, a faraway howl was heard, it swirled around and filled the room. Sweet scented smoke seeped in and sat on each of the First People's shoulders.

The warriors began to chant; one by one, they stood up and began to dance.

As the sun set over the forest, the song grew and grew until it filled every chief and medicine man and they too began to dance.

They became one with the wolf that was circling the floor, his desire became their desire, his will became their will, they became one!
Chapter 30

Fall was in the air, the nights were getting cooler, and the Indians were getting restless.

The clear crisp days belied the upheaval taking place in the towns along the bank of the Fraser River.

The Carling RCMP Detachment was exceptionally busy. There were many reports of aggressive behavior by the local Indians around Andover Lake, and up and down the Fraser River. Bill Majors' Detachment Chief was asking for assistance from Headquarters in Regina.

Everyone and everything was in upheaval, no one knew why all this unrest? The law hadn't changed, the reserve regulations hadn't changed, there was nothing to fight about.

But sadly, the Indians didn't think so.

The consensus was, if something wasn't done soon, there'd be blood in the streets. Nobody wanted that, especially the towns' people.

The Regional Detachment Chief chose Bill Majors to approach the Council at the Xaali'pp Great House on Friday and ask why all the discontent, and what could be done about it. He was sitting in his office at his desk trying to decide what to say when a worn out, thin, unshaven man stepped into his office.

"Hi Bill."

"Can I help you, sir?"

"You can tell me what's going on."

"Yes sir, and your name is?"

"It's me, Jack McKinnon."

"My god, Jack, I'd have never known you, where did you come from?"

"I've been living in my cabin on Andover Lake; I'm looking for my dog."

"All this time?"

"Yes. But I need to know what's going on."

"Where have you been these past five months?"

"I was at the cabin. I came to find out what's going on."

Bill Majors sat and looked at the bedraggled man in front of him and knew that wasn't so. The last he heard, Jack signed himself out of the hospital in Burnswood and disappeared.

Rikki was frantic, and looked everywhere but she could only look so long. With no money coming in, a young boy to feed and a mortgage to pay, she had to look for a job. They were hard to find for a woman with few office skills.

Jamison Copier/Scanner Company, a family oriented firm looked after its' employees and found her a job. They told her Jack's job was waiting for him when he got back on his feet. She didn't have the heart to tell them, no one could find Jack, or his feet.

"You better sit down," said the Sergeant, "you tell me your story and I'll tell you mine."

"I don't have a story; I need to know what's going on."

"Well, for starters, we're going to have an Indian uprising."

"Good."

What kind of reply was this?

"Rikki looked everywhere for you, we covered the cabin several times, no one was there. Where have you been?"

"Do you have anything to eat? I can't remember the last time I ate. And I can't find my dog."

The Sergeant reached into his bottom desk drawer and brought out an open package of chocolate Oreo cookies. His wife Jeanne didn't approve of his private stash.

"Thanks," Jack said taking a cookie but not eating it, "Where are we?"

"Jack, you're in Carling."

"Oh, sure, now tell me what the white man's law is going to do about the Indian rebellion?"

"Why are you so interested in what we're going to do?"

"I need to know, when I know, I'll find my dog."

"Really?"

Bill Majors stood up and came around his desk to stand between the door and the man that said he was Jack McKinnon.

"Come on down the hall Jack, we have it all mapped out on the wall. You can see it for yourself," said the Sergeant as he manoeuvred behind the thin man.

"Just down this hall," Bill said, "here, through this door, into this room."

"Why are you putting me in here?" said the thin man to the Sergeant, "there's no map on the wall."

"That's O.K., just sit at the table; I'll be back soon and tell you all you need to know."

"O.K.," he said, sitting down and promptly fell asleep sitting up.

Bill Majors shook his head, he needed some help, this was so far out of his scope of experience he didn't even know how to describe what just happened.

* ** *

"You're sure you want to do this right now, even though it's late," said Bill Majors' Detachment Chief, Harry Fitzgerald as he handed over a little piece of paper with writing on it.

The Sergeant just nodded his head and gripped the paper harder.

"I know I've given you the right name," said his Chief, "when you get to Harrisburg go to the Endowment Lands, the University of British Columbia is there, just ask anybody, he's a very well known professor. He said he'd try to help. Remember, no matter what anyone says, don't take the handcuffs off, and don't undo the leg shackles, he can walk with them on. Don't get misdirected; it's The Dept. of Indian Affairs, BC Division."

"I'll be able to find it with your directions, Sir. I'll take my cruiser, that way I can lock him in the back, and I won't have to worry that he'll get away when I have to leave the car. I'll call as soon as I know anything."

Bill Majors put the paper with the name and address into his shirt pocket and buttoned the flap. There'd be no chance of losing it. He walked down the hall and peered into the small interrogation room through the one-way glass; it was time to leave for Harrisburg and Jack was still sitting at the table. He hadn't moved for the past three hours.

Bill felt sorry for him, but couldn't help until he understood what was wrong. Opening the door, he expected his friend to stand and greet him with a word, a wave or a cheeky remark; instead, he lunged at Bill and knocked him off balance. Racing by him into the hall, he paused, unsure which way led out of the building.

The split second of indecision was all the Sergeant needed; he dove for his legs and wrestled him to the ground. Too late he realized he needed help. As it was, the scruffy man fought like a tiger, but he was starving and had no staying power.

He lay on the floor panting, glowering hatred from his sunken eyes. As Bill Majors helped him up, he spit in his face and swore at him in the old Xaali'pp dialect.

He was not the man Bill knew, and was not going to cooperate.

Bill called for a Constable from the front desk to help, it took the two of them almost 20 minutes to get the handcuffs and leg shackles on.

After an uneventful trip to Harrisburg, the RCMP cruiser pulled into the visitor's parking lot at the Administration Building of the University of BC. Some of the students stopped and stared at the wild man in the cruiser's back lockup. When the Sergeant got out and frowned at them, they moved on whispering to each other. Some scruffy boys looked back and laughed.

As luck would have it, the campus police came over to ask if he needed assistance.

"I need to see a professor....just a moment, I have his name here," said Bill, as he took the little piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the officer.

"Okay, I know him; he's over on the other side of the campus. Just go down University Boulevard here until you come to the old barracks, turn left onto Main Mall, a short block or so further, turn the only way you can, and you'll be on Agronomy Road. It's a big steel and glass building, the newest one we have. Just go in and check the Occupant's Board, he's listed there. You can park your vehicle in the No Parking Zone, put my card on the windshield and you'll be alright."

"Thanks, much obliged," said the nervous Mountie putting the officer's card in his shirt pocket together with the small piece of paper.

Although he grew up in Harrisburg, he hadn't been to the UBC campus for a long time. He went to university at Loma Linda U. in Alberta, smaller school, cheaper housing.

With only one wrong turn, he found the right building. Once you could see it, there was no mistaking the steel & glass. He parked in the 'No Parking Zone', checked his passenger, got out and put the campus police officer's card under the windshield wiper.

He found the Occupants Board as he entered the lobby of the building, and the name he was looking for; fourth floor, room 12.

The big question running through his mind all the way from Carling was how was he going to get Jack up to this professors' office? He was told never to remove the restraints.

"Guess I'll have to ask him, he knows the situation, maybe he has an idea, he thought and called him on the house phone."

Sergeant Majors met Dr. Edmund Little Bow when he stepped out of the elevator. He wasn't sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this.

"Hello there," said the professor, his Indian heritage evident in his clothing and headband. "Did you bring your problem with you? I hope I'll be able to help you. There's so much bad information out there about the Indian Medicine Man or Shaman, and I'm glad to put some of these false ideas to rest."

He thinks there is no problem here, thought Bill Majors; this is going to be a wasted trip.

"Dr. Little Bow, my name is Sergeant Bill Majors, RCMP Carling Detachment; please follow me out to my vehicle, the person my superior spoke to you about is in the back seat. He's been missing for approximately five and half months, but today he came into the office asking questions. He needs to tell us where he's been and why he's in such a state. We're sure it has to do with the problems the Indian people in our district are having."

"I see."

"My superior advised against releasing him as he's very unstable. Any ideas?" said the Sergeant as he unlocked the vehicle and opened the passenger side door.

"Well, I have all sorts of ideas, but will any of them work?"

He approached the open door of the car and spoke to the man in the back seat.

"I'm Doctor Little Bow," he said, "tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help.

Jack McKinnon sat in the back seat of the vehicle and looked straight ahead. It was as though the professor hadn't spoken.

"May I sit in the front seat?" he asked the Sergeant, "and open the pass-through window to the back all the way so I can speak directly to him."

He got in and sat in the front passenger seat. He looked like he was concentrating and began to chant, as he sang he motioned with his hands.

The hair on the back of Sergeant Majors neck stood straight up!

Jack started to move around. The stronger the Professors' voice, the harder he struggled. Suddenly he slumped forward.

Dead?

Out cold?

"What have you done?" said the Sergeant looking at the crumpled man. He was responsible for the safety of his charge; he needed to know what was going on. And more, he needed to know why?

Professor Little Bow also collapsed in the front seat, he was exhausted too. Breathing heavily he got out of the car and began to do knee bends. He needed more oxygen.

The Sergeant stood open-mouthed.

"It's alright, Sergeant, I didn't kill him," Edmund Little Bow said standing up, "but I did figure out what's wrong with him. We have to talk. Lock the doors, he can't be allowed to wander alone. Come with me to my office, I'll tell you what's happening here."

Bill Majors gathered the research papers from headquarters that told the Professor about the situation. He then locked the vehicle securely; there'd be no escape while he was on duty.

Turning, he followed the man with the Indian headband into the building.

This was going to be good!

Doctor Little Bow led the way up to his office on the fourth floor of the big glass building on the campus of the University of BC. Bill Majors looked at the back of the man in front of him and thought him the most unlikely Indian he'd ever seen. Short, overweight, with pale complexion, soft blue eyes and wheat colored hair.

He was a very washed-out Indian.

They rode up in the elevator, the doors opened on the fourth floor and several individuals were waiting, they stepped aside as the two men exited the elevator. No one seemed surprized by the large RCMP Sergeant and the small man... maybe it was business as usual.

"Just down here, have you been to our university before, Sergeant?" he said, as he opened the door to a large office.

In it were the most amazing indigenous artifacts. They hung on the walls and filled the shelves. Headdresses mounted on mannequin heads sat on every level space, shields and spears leaned in corners, woven bark baskets, beaded moccasins, some very old. And, of course, Haida carvings in all sizes and shapes.

The Sergeant was very impressed as he walked around the room admiring it all.

Looking for somewhere to sit, he saw a small alcove with a desk. It also held a recliner chair built specially for the man beside him.

"Impressive, eh?"

"You said it, where did you get all this?"

"I've been collecting all my life, I saw the way you looked at me, I'm probably the least Indian looking Indian you'll ever meet. But let me assure you, I'm 100% Tsimskaan, born and bred. It's a spread out clan at the north end of Andover Lake, we've lived there for as long as anyone can remember and before.

"And no, there's no white blood in my line, I don't know why I look the way I do," he said smiling, "but inside, I'm a 6 foot, black haired, hook-nosed Indian!"

The tirade seemed to wear the professor out and he sat heavily in his chair. A moment or two passed and he reached down to his lower desk drawer.

"I realize we're on Provincial Land, and I'm an Indian and you're RCMP, but, for medicinal purposes only, I'll give you a dollop of the Red Man's juice to give you energy for the task at hand."

Bill didn't know what to make of it all, and sat down in the only other chair in the room. He wasn't sure what a dollop was, but the 'Red Man's Juice' was familiar.

The professor poured an oz. or so of a dark red liquid into each of the two small glasses he produced from his other bottom drawer.

"Kwey" he said and drank it down.

The Sergeant took a sip from his glass and looked at his host...hmm... definitely not just Portland Grape juice.

"Getting back to the problem at hand sir, do you know what's wrong with my prisoner? Can you help him?"

"I don't know yet, tell me about him."

"Six months ago, he was just an average man with a cabin on the north-east side of Andover Lake. He flipped his boat in early spring on his way up, and it sank, never came up even though it was supposed to be unsinkable, his dog, a good swimmer went down too. His body never came up either; we watched both sides of the lake for quite some time.

"Jack McKinnon, the man you met downstairs also had a very disturbing experience. He said he swam to shore, spent the night in a closed cabin and walked the railway tracks back to Merriweather."

"It says in here," said the professor, referring to the papers the Sergeant gave him, "this man can't swim?"

"He can dogpaddle. He said the dog swam with him and kept him warm when he crawled out of the lake. He also said, and I know this is true; the cabin he saw was one he wasn't familiar with. He went up to it and tried to get inside, but it was locked securely, so he pushed the door and the frame into the cabin, found some curtains and other things and burned them in the pot belly stove to get warm."

"How did he start the fire, if he just crawled out of the lake?" said the listener.

"We asked that too, he said he didn't know. Anyway, in the morning, there was no dog, and no dog prints in the sand. He said he walked the railway tracks back to the town of Merriweather at the south end of Andover Lake.

"His cabin is on the east side at the north end of this 15 mile lake. You probably know Andover Lake is glacier fed and very cold all year round.

"The long and short of it all," the Mountie said, "was the cabin he was in was at the south-west end of the lake right in front of Scuff Peak, that's in the Bendor Range."

"This is some story. What's wrong now? What's changed?"

"Jack McKinnon has been missing for over five months. Today he walked into my office and began to ask what we were going to do with the Indian uprising up and down the Fraser River. He couldn't seem to tell us where he'd been, or what he'd been doing. And... he became very violent when I tried to insist.

"There's been more than a few incidents with the young men of the Xaali'pp band, but nothing that we'd class as a full blown uprising.

"But Mr. McKinnon is something altogether different. He's a married man with a wife and son and they've been frantic with worry. There's something wrong with him, and I think it has to do with the new medicine man that came from Quebec about a year ago. We have a request in to the RCMP Division Head in Ontario, but nothings come back yet."

"Well, you've certainly got a problem. You want me to tell you what's wrong with him?"

"Not only what's wrong, but what can be done to cure him?"

"I don't know any quick cures, but my best advice is; get him away from the medicine man. For want of a better way of explaining what's been going on, think of it as being under hypnosis. This new medicine man took him as a way of finding out what's going on in the enemy camp or as a hostage for a later date. I would say, that's why he came to you today. He has to find out what he's been told to find, and then he'll be able to go back and explain it to his captor."

"If he goes back, will he get back to normal?"

"Sorry, but I have no idea. The chant you heard me sing down stairs is a healing song, specifically for those who've had their souls stolen. In the old days, they put them into a 'soul catcher'. That's a hollow bone with a head at each end, its usually depicted as a fish, but can be anything. I've even seen them with stylized human heads. Only a very powerful shaman would even consider using one of those. They are very potent medicine.

"While not well known, things like this happened in the old days. It was how a certain kind of medicine man cemented his power in the clan; they called it, 'Stealing a Man's Soul'. I really don't like to think this kind of thing is going on, and this is the first time I've run into it. Let me do a little more research, and I'll get back to your Department Head with my ideas."

"Last question, what will happen to him if we don't let him go back?"

"Same answer as last time, I don't know. But I would venture to say, nothing good."

Bill Majors sat and looked at the little man. Now it was even worse than before. How was he going to tell Rikki why Jack was never coming home. That hope had gone from 'little' to 'nil'. He knew where they were going to put Jack so he couldn't go home, in jail, that's where.

"Listen," the professor said, "I don't usually do this, but there is someone who'd be very interested in your problem. He's not associated with the University, but he has years and years of knowledge and experience."

"I'll talk to anyone; just give me a name and directions."

"Better yet, I'll go with you, let me get my jacket and we'll be on our way."

"Where are we going?"

"To N'quat'qua, just south of the town of Merriweather, we have to pick something up."

The surprised Sergeant could hardly believe his ears.

That evenings drive to N'quat'qua was uneventful, Bill concentrated on driving, Jack fidgeted in the back seat, and the professor dozed with his eyes shut.

As they approached the outskirts of Merriweather, the professor gave quick directions and they came to a small clearing in the trees. The Mountie had never been here before.

The professor got out of the car and stood in the clearing. Soon an old man came from behind the stand of fir trees and spoke to him, handed him a small package and left.

The RCMP cruiser, with Jack still in the back; still stressed out, still checking everywhere, still looking for some escape, finally returned to the town of Merriweather.

Bill Majors made a call to his superior before they left the University, to insure the Company boat was gassed up and waiting.

Even as late as it was, Freddy from the grocery store stood and watched.

The three men left the police car in the grocery store parking lot and made their way to the RCMP Company boat.

Freddy was going to have a good story to tell. He never thought Jack McKinnon would ever show up again, and there he was, calm as all get out, walking between the Sergeant and some little white guy.

It looked like Mr. McKinnon was in chains, but that probably wasn't so. But he looked closer, and saw they were leg shackles, he knew what they were because he saw them in an old time movie once. Then he thought he saw handcuffs too. Wow! As soon as they all got into the boat and left, Freddy headed for the store telephone. He knew it didn't matter how late it was, this was too good not to share.

* * * *

"Okay, Professor Little Bow, where to now?"

Bill Majors had the wheel, and was checking the gas gauge and scanning the sky with a weather eye. He didn't want to be caught on the water at night if a storm was brewing.

"Just go north, I'll tell you when to stop. The man you're going to meet is one of the 'old men' of the clan. I don't know how old in years, but he was old when I was a pup. And, I can't tell you how he knows what's going on, but he does. Just do as I do, and don't speak unless you're spoken to. Make sure you have your prisoner well in hand. And I don't have to tell you, do exactly what he says. Don't question, or hesitate."

"Just who are we going to see?"

"My grandfather. If I was born in the old times, I would have been a medicine man too. I'm the right blood line, even if I'm not the right color. I'm caught between two worlds, the white man's new way; education, commerce, progress, and the indigenous world of freedom, family and nature. I know how this sounds, but it's hard for an Indian to make his way in the white man's world and still keep his soul."

Sergeant Majors looked at the little man with new eyes.

As they travelled up the lake, the moon began its' slow ascent into the high mountain peaks of the Bendor Range on their left. Feathery dusk settled into the Andover Lake valley, a quiet calm came over the three men in the boat.
Chapter 31

"You are telling me, WHAT?" shouted the provoked medicine man from Quebec, "you lost our tame white man?"

"We didn't exactly lose him, we know where he is," said his right hand man, Running Horse, "he's with Sergeant Majors, they went to Harrisburg and we couldn't follow."

"I don't think you're ready for independence, you can't even follow a slave that has no mind. Get out of here! Find him! Go to Harrisburg if you have to, but find him!"
Chapter 32

"Carol," said an out-of-breath Rikki McKinnon over the phone, early Friday morning, "I just got a phone call from Carling, from the RCMP Detachment, they said Jack came into the office and was talking with Bill Majors yesterday, I knew he'd come home. I just knew it!"

"Hold on now, slow down, Jack came back, fantastic? Did he say what happened to him? Where's he been all this time? Where is he now?"

"Oh Carol, I didn't even ask all that, I was so glad to hear he was back, everything else just flew out of my head."

"This is great news; I've still got some coffee left from last night's supper, come over, have a cup and tell me everything!"

"I have to wait until Detachment Chief Fitzgerald calls me. I'm not sure why, but they said don't come to pick him up until they say."

"So, now that you've finally got your job figured out and are enjoying it, are you going to quit now that Jack is back?"

"I don't think so; I think it's going to be a long time until he's all right again. I don't know what's going to happen. But right now, I'm going to be happy they found him, or he walked in, I really don't care which. Just as long as he doesn't disappear again. When he gets home, I'm not taking my eyes off him for an instant."
Chapter 33

The Great House central room was filled with waiting Indian Braves that night.

Some in full battle dress.

Some in street clothes.

And some, just wandering around waiting for whatever was going to happen next.

Finally, the big doors at the other end of the room opened, and the short medicine man from the old Algonkin tribe entered.

A hush fell over the room; the men fell back and formed a large circle around him.

He turned slowly, looking at each man individually.

His dress was fine deerskin leggings with beading up the sides, moccasins in the old style, the hide of a wolverine wrapped around his middle, the head hanging between his legs. There was no paint on his chest, but the red tattoos across his back spoke of past wars. His bear skin robe of authority draped across one shoulder.

In his right hand, he held a painted gourd that had the tail feathers of a mature male Eagle hanging from it, in his left, a spear with the tail and dried genitals of a male wolf tied on with strips of buffalo hide. He punctuated his words with his rattles.

The Badge of Authority, his Medicine Bag, hung down his chest to rest on top of his heart.

His face showed the two black lines of war.

Slowly he began to dance, drums called to each man, and their warrior's heart answered. Darkness settled over the room, the bright moonlight filtered in and everyone followed his moving form out onto the grassland. A small fire was burning in a large fire pit.

As the medicine man danced, the little fire began to grow. Finally, when the fire was soaring, he began to speak.

His voice resonated against the trees and mountains, his rattles gave life to the pictures he painted in the air, and they looked and saw it all.

The moon was full again, and the land was new!

His song spun softly, the young men strived to hear, but the old men remembered the words...

"The time for hibernation is over My Beloved. The Bear will awaken again with you, and with it the Medicine of Our People. They will come from all parts of the Medicine Wheel, seeking what has been taken from them. We have sung the Ancient Songs in the Dream Time calling out to their Souls, and they will hear them and awaken, answering the calling of their hearts, and they will remember who they really are."

The old men answered with their slow grunt of approval.

Soon it gave way to the young warriors, who began to dance and cry out with wild abandon, on and on throughout the night, reliving victory after victory!

The young men coveted the 'Glory of Battle', the feeling of a powerful warhorse between their legs, the weight of a war club in their hand. They could feel the War Bow festooned with blood red feathers held in their left hand, its' short battle arrows lodged in the beaded and painted quiver fastened to their backs. They knew what they fought for, and it was right and just!

Remembered brutality to their clans brought their blood lust to a boil. They would drive the white man from their land. Each knew he would be the hero that returned their homeland to The People.

They would be free again to live and go wherever the Spirit called them.

How did they know?

Running Wolf said so!

This medicine man vowed he could make the white man go away and never come back. Then everything would go back to the old ways.

The People would be free.

They needed a strong show of force; the pale face would crumble under his great magic.

That's what he foretold.

And they believed!
Chapter 34

"It's full dark, Professor," said Sergeant Majors, "but I know we're near the head of the lake. I don't like to be out here at night, this boats running lights aren't the best for a lake this size."

"Don't worry, we're almost there," said the professor.

He'd been sitting very still and humming, it seemed to calm Jack.

The Mountie was thinking bad thoughts. Here he was in the middle of Andover Lake with an Indian and a crazy man, and he missed dinner. He was hungry, it was late, and he didn't know there was a dock this far north.

As he looked around in the gathered gloom, he realized where they were.

They were at the Ancient Indian Burial Ground! There was no way he was getting out of this boat and Jack better stay in as well; this was getting way too weird.

As he looked at the shoreline in front of him, he saw some short trees. They looked like they were growing in groups.

A cold sweat ran down his back, they were groups all right! They were dead people. The old time Indians 'buried' their dead wrapped in leather and placed them standing in family groups.

The custom died out a long time ago, or had it? Bill Majors pulled his eyes from what he was seeing, and tried not to show any emotion to those sitting behind him.

Luckily, a dock, half hidden on the far side of a small cove came into view.

Funny, he thought, I've been around this end of the lake many times, I don't remember this cove, or that dock.

"There it is, Sergeant, pull up there."

The boat made its' own way to the dock, and pulled up beside the old man who was standing and waiting.

Freaked the Sergeant right out!

"O.K., I don't know what's going on here," he blustered, "but we better just stay in the boat. I'm not sure what happened back there, but boats don't dock themselves, at least, not in my line of work."

"Pay it no mind, sir," said the old man, "just stay by me. Help our guest out Edmund; he must be worn out with the war going on in his heart."

Sergeant Majors looked at the old man and knew he was right. He turned and helped the Professor out of the boat, and then unlocked Jack's leg shackles. This feeling of peace and serenity he was experiencing was nothing like he ever felt before.

"Hello grandfather," Edmund Little Bow said, "I've come to sit at your fire."

"You are always welcome. Come, sit, we will smoke a pipe."

The three young men and the old one started up the bank. There in a small clearing stood a cabin, a small fire was burning in front.

Jack fell to his knees! Was this the cabin? His mind began to flicker and dart; was this the cabin he spent that night in, so long ago?

The voice in his head whispered, you're not important, no one cares, your past is dead. What does it matter, you don't count; nothing you do matters anymore!

But the little part of his heart that he'd managed to hide, spoke up, and he knew he did matter, really he did; Rikki loved him.

The battle that raged between head and heart couldn't be contained any longer; mercifully, he blacked out and crumpled to the ground.

The old man bent down and looked carefully at his pale grey face. This was who he saw in the dream. Now he was sure, and he'd prepared.

"Come Edmund; help him sit up, I'll get him a drink," the old man said and went into the cabin. He returned with a small cup formed from the neck bone of Mingan, the Grey wolf; red liquid glistened and swirled in the bottom; it was more than blood.

Sergeant Majors watched as in a dream and saw the pale overweight professor was now tall, dressed in a beaded deerskin shirt and fine leather breeches, a long bow across his back, thick black hair hung loose to his shoulders.

The Mountie turned to look at the cabin; a Tsimskaan totem decorated the front. Reality was slipping away as he watched both men help the damaged one into the cabin.

The door closed without him and he blacked out and fell to the ground.

* * * *

When he awoke, he was lying on the coarse sand beach in front of Jack McKinnon's summer cabin. He got up and looked around, it was half dark and he felt fuzzy in the head. At first he couldn't remember why he was there, but bit by bit the pieces began to come back.

The shape they took was of the old shaman who spirited Jack and the Professor away from him and into the cabin by the Indian burial grounds.

Dejected, he sat down on the wharf and looked into the cold dark water. Well, he thought, I guess I've done it now. I let an old man get the best of me, and worse, Jack McKinnon is gone again.

Now I have to walk back to Merriweather, 'cause I don't even know what happened to the Company boat.

"What can I tell my Chief that he'll believe?" he said to the gently slapping water.

Just then, the door to the cabin opened, and there stood Jack McKinnon clean, full of pep, and holding an egg turner in his hand.

"You gonna sit out there all day?" he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Bill Majors looked at the man and couldn't believe his eyes. This wasn't real! He must be hallucinating!

Then anger bubbled up, "what's going on here! Why do you look so good! How did I get here? Where the hell is 'here' anyway. I don't believe any of this!" he said, standing up now so he could yell better.

Professor Little Bow, short and overweight, came out onto the porch behind Jack with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "You better come and get it before the eggs all turn to grease in the bottom of the frying pan."

All the noise brought a big Rhodesian ridgeback around the side of the cabin, and seeing who it was; the dog bounded over to greet him with big wet kisses all over his face.

The Sergeant looked from man to dog and dropped to the ground.
Chapter 35

The phone started to ring in the McKinnon house in Langley the next day and Rikki ran up the basement stairs to answer.

"Mrs. Jack McKinnon? Mrs. Rikki McKinnon?"

"Yes, that's me, who's this?"

"My name is Sergeant Clive Petsnick, RCMP Carling Detachment. I've been asked to get in touch with you. Would it be alright if one of our men came by and asked you some questions?"

"I guess so, what's this about? Do you know where my husband is? Why hasn't he come home yet? Why are you keeping him so long? He hasn't done anything wrong has he? I want to know where he is! Why are you not telling me what's going on?"

"Calm down, Mrs. McKinnon, I'll explain everything to you when I see you tomorrow."

"I thought you said you were sending someone, why are you coming now?"

"I want you to have someone with you tomorrow, a relative, a friend, someone you can rely on. I don't want you to be upset, your husband is alive, but the circumstances need some explanation."

"Tell me now!" shouted an almost hysterical wife clutching her young son for strength. "I need you to tell me now!"

"Be calm, Mrs. McKinnon, I'll tell you everything I know, when I see you."

"Don't bother coming down, I'll be there tomorrow to see you, and you better have some answers for me!" She slammed the phone down, sat on the floor and cried onto her young son's shoulder.

"Don't cry, mommy," he said, trying to pat her on the back as he'd seen his daddy do. "Daddy said he'd come home, I know he will. We just have to wait a little longer."

"Oh, Harry..."

Some time later, she gathered herself up from the floor and began to make plans. First, she called her mother and arranged for a sleep over for Harry.

She had a lot to do before she would be ready to go to Carling. There was no way she was going to give up without a fight! She wasn't sure what the fight would be about, but she knew she better be prepared for anything.

"No," she said to her young son, "I better be prepared for everything."

So she helped Harry pack his PJ's and teddy bear into his little suitcase and they went to see grandma and grandpa.

When she got home she called 'Betty's Hilltop Cafe' in Merriweather, and arranged to meet 'Betty' tomorrow at 8:00 am.

I have to talk this out, she thought; I don't want to make any mistakes.

"Hi Carol," she called as she approached her neighbors back door, "can I come for a cup of coffee?"

"Hi yourself, come on in. I was just thinking it was time for a coffee break, how did you manage to read my mind from over at your place?"

The girls smiled at their little shared joke and chatted for a few moments.

She looked at her friend again, "are you alright? You look like you were crying, what's going on now?"

"Oh Carol, the RCMP from Carling called and I know something really bad is going on up there, they were going to send a Constable down to interview me, and I got all excited and said I would go up there, and now I'm not sure, I need some help. I think they lost Jack again."

"You know Barry and I will help in any way. Do you need us to look after Harry? He really likes to stay here. He thinks our son Donny is neat, he told me so the other day. I think it's a little hero worship."

"It's not that, I need, I need, oh I don't know what I need, but I know I need to go up there, and I need some help. Do you think you and Barry could come with me? I know you're always busy on Saturday, but I think I'm going to need a very level head with me, one that will be able to understand when I fall apart."

"Good heavens, what's going on?"

"I really don't know, but if the RCMP wants me to have a relative or friend with me, I know it's going to be terrible."

"Did they say that?"

"Yes, and you know I'm an only child, and dad's got such a bad heart, I can't ask him to come, whatever is going on would kill him."

"Have you thought; maybe you need some legal help? You don't know if the RCMP is charging Jack with something. Maybe some bad thing has happened to him, you can't go up there without someone who'll understand what's going on.

"You need some professional help. Is there a lawyer up there you'd be able to hire?"

"I don't think Merriweather is big enough for one, and I don't know about Carling either. What do you think it would cost to hire one for a whole day?"

"A whole bunch of money!"

She looked at Carol and her eyes began to fill up again. This is not going to work, she thought, I'm just too dumb to do this on my own, and the tears started down her cheeks.

"Okay, okay, just let me think, I'll call Barry, maybe he'll have an idea," Carol said, pouring two cups of coffee. "There must be some way we can get some legal help up there."

Carol left the kitchen and went in search of her husband. She knew he was home, he usually came in the back way through the garage, but today he'd come in through the kitchen and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Barry are you still in the house?" called Carol.

Just then, she heard a whoop of laughter coming from the front of the house. She rushed to the door in time to see her husband extracting himself from under the overturned bicycle in the driveway.

The boys were laughing and shaking their heads that such an old man would even try such a thing, imagine, he tried to do a wheelie!

Carol stood on the porch and wondered if she should be sorry for him, or tell him what an idiot he was to try to do these things! He was lucky he didn't break something important. As it was, he'd be stiff for a week.

"Barry, come into the kitchen when you can get up, Rikki needs to speak to you," she said, finally giving in to laughter. "You boys should be ashamed of yourselves, picking on such an old man. You could have broken him, and then what would I do?"

Some of the group said sorry, but there were also a lot of grins and sniggers from behind their hands. Donny didn't know whether to be proud that his dad tried, or embarrassed that he did.

Barry and Carol returned to the kitchen. He was a little bent over, but when he saw Rikki sitting at the kitchen table he straightened up and put on a brave face.

He expected some smart remark from her, about acting a person's age, or maybe, how old did he think he was, something along that line. But there was no laughter in her eyes, only tears.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"Sit down," said his wife, "we'll fill you in. Have some coffee, you'll need it."

As the three talked, it became plain; there had to be a lawyer or someone other than an hysterical wife, some neighbors and a cook. They needed a professional.

Barry sat back and you could see the wheels turning, "you know," he said, "my buddy from work's son just came home yesterday. He's been over on the Island at the University of Victoria. I think his dad said he took Law. Do you want me to call and find out? Maybe he could come over and give you some advice?"

"Oh, Barry, could you?"

"Let me use the phone in the bedroom, it's quieter in there. I hear the boys coming in for a drink, and I need to able to hear."

Barry sat down on the edge of the bed and wondered if what he was doing was right. It was one thing to babysit somebody's kid in a pinch, but a whole other, to go up to Carling with them to face the RCMP.

He gave a deep sigh and looked in his wallet for the name and phone number of his friend from work.

It took a little explaining and some questions going back and forth but finally his friend put his son on.

"Yes," said the son, "I'm finished my degree, yes, I really am a lawyer, no, I've never been to court, but I'm ready."

Then he wanted to know what kind of advice they wanted.

Barry took his time and explained the happenings of the past six months.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "You do know," he said, "I haven't even got a job yet."

"No problem, consider this on-the-job-experience, you will never have another case like this in a million years. Every lawyer in town will be full of envy, who gets this kind of 'practice' right off, and you haven't even hung out your shingle."

"Humm... You're right! I better come over and talk to Mrs. McKinnon; I'll get a better feel for the problem. Bye now."

And he hung up.

A short time later, there was a knock on the door and there stood a nervous father and an anxious son.

"Hi Barry, we live a couple of blocks over on 132 Avenue and Milly hasn't started supper yet, so I thought we should come and see what's what," Ralph Kullman said, "this is my son, Richard."

"Thanks for coming so soon," said Rikki, introducing herself. Handshakes and names made the rounds and soon everyone was sitting at the kitchen table with a strong cup of very black coffee and some day-old Danish that Carol found in the cupboard.

"Let me get this straight," said Richard, the brand new lawyer, putting a yellow legal size note pad and pencil on the table. "Just try and remember the dates and the names of the individuals involved."

It took until Ralph and Richard said they had to go home for supper, but they'd be back around 7:00 pm to finish the preliminary information.

Barry, who didn't really know everything that went on, wondered at the resiliency of the small woman across the table. And, he thought, she probably doesn't even know everything that's happened recently.

What a mess!

* * * *

"Okay everyone, buckle up," said Barry, very early next morning "we have to get going it's almost 5:00 o'clock and if we're not gone soon, we'll be caught in the traffic in Rawlly . Don't want to keep 'Betty' waiting.

We'll introduce you to 'Betty', Richard, it'll be the highlight of your young career," kidded Barry.

The miles sped by, three hours later Rikki's Volvo pulled into Merriweather and they made their way to the towns' best fast food, 'Betty's Hilltop Cafe'.

Standing in front was the biggest man Richard ever saw! Where was he going to sit?

Introductions all around, and when they told 'Betty' this was the lawyer, he wondered how old he was. Never mind, nothing like 'First Hand Experience'.

Barry looked at the little group and realized they would never fit into the Volvo. Rikki saw what he was thinking and said, "let's go over to the grocery store, Jack parked the van there. I brought the spare key."

"Smart thinking, is it still there?"

"Actually yes, I got a call from Freddy's dad and he wanted to know if I was going to come and get it. I told him to leave it there, Jack will be home soon and he'd deal with it."

The little troop walked over to the store parking lot and sure enough, there sat the McKinnon van.

Once inside, everyone talked at the same time, "Okay everybody, now's the time to listen to the advice we're bringing along," said 'Betty', "what d'ya say, kid?"

"My best advice," said the budding young lawyer is this. "Be quiet, listen carefully to everything. Ask questions if you must, but don't tell them anything unless you have to."

"You're going to do okay kid," said 'Betty', as he put the van in 'drive', "next stop Carling RCMP Detachment Headquarters."
Chapter 36

Harrold Fitzgerald, Detachment Chief, sat at his desk and contemplated his cold coffee. This was a meeting he didn't want to host. "Clive Petsnick owes me one," he muttered, "I delegated this problem to him, and now he's on Compassionate Leave, he said his grandmother died. I don't know if I believe him," said a very unhappy Chief.

Who wants to be the one to tell a young wife and mother that the RCMP inadvertently lost her husband? Well, maybe not lost him, just misplaced him.

Yesterday when Jack came to the office looking for information, they realized he wasn't himself and made arrangements to take him to the University of BC in Harrisburg to see a very progressive professor who happened to be of Indian decent.

But Bill Majors didn't get in touch with his superior at the end of the day as he was supposed to, they looked everywhere but couldn't find the Sergeant or Jack McKinnon.

And now, there was more trouble with the Xaali'pp Indian band.

"This isn't the Wild West," he said to anyone who'd listen. "Indians don't do 'uprisings' anymore.

"We'll be the laughing stock at the Administrative Meeting in Regina this fall," he said, shaking his head. "I can hear it all now."
Chapter 37

Very early in the morning, consciousness was stirring Sergeant Majors, and it finally came and sat on the gravel beach with him. There seemed to be fog all around and he couldn't make out exactly where he was or remember why he was there.

He was cold and realized he was wringing wet, not because he fell into the lake, but because he was sweating profusely. The events of the past day came back, and he looked around wildly to see if he was still in front of the McKinnon's cabin.

And where was the dog?

Of all the freaky things he'd encountered in his career as a Mountie, this was the worst.

The fog over the water and in his head, was clearing now, it felt like the beginning of a cool Indian summer morning. He turned in a full circle on the beach to see if anything was familiar. Then he noticed the Company boat still tied to the run down old dock.

He felt himself slipping back into the fog, but reached into his inner reserves and said loudly to himself, "this is over, I'm going home. I don't care where I am, but I know where I'm going."

At the dock, he checked the boat. Didn't matter why it was there, he was just grateful that it was. He had to get away as fast as he could.

As he was pulling away from the dock, he noticed an old cabin set in the trees; then he realized... it looked like the cabin at the south end of Andover Lake, right under Scuff Mountain.

The Sergeant couldn't help it, he had to know.

Pulling forward again, he killed the motor, slapped the mooring rope around a battered old post, and ran up to the cabin. He stood and looked; the door and frame were hanging by a nail. And...the two headed white bone that hung over the door was still looking down!

Now he really was afraid!

He ran back to the boat. The further away from shore he got, the better he felt. The day began to get brighter, the sky was clear and blue; the early morning sun warmed him.

With his mouth set in grim determination, Sergeant Majors set his course for the marina and the Merriweather dock in particular. "I don't know what's going on, Jack McKinnon is gone, so is the professor and his grandfather, but at least I've still got the boat. Nothing is going to stop me from getting back to headquarters.

"The Chief is going to have my hide. I don't know what day it is, I've lost my Charge. And... I don't know why!" said a very stubborn Mountie getting hold of himself.

* * * *

"Please sit down, Mrs. McKinnon, good of you to come," said Harold Fitzgerald the Carling Detachment Chief a little after 9:00 am. Everyone milled around and looked at the two chairs in front of his desk.

"I'll send for chairs for your friends. Can we get anyone anything to drink, tea, coffee?"

He looked from person to person but no one said anything. 'Betty' was mumbling under his breath about it wouldn't be a bad thing if they provided a cold beer or two. But he knew, that was never going to happen.

Carol and Barry Adler sat on either side of Rikki. She was trying to be calm, but she was zipping her jacket up and down at an alarming rate. Finally, Carol leaned over and put her hand on the zipper.

"Maybe we should just go home and wait? What do you think, Rikki?" said Carol trying to find a calming thing to say. She knew it wouldn't do any good, but maybe it would help Rikki not focus so hard on what they would hear.

Chief Fitzgerald waited until his aid brought in two more chairs. Now the office was crowded and that brought the temperature in the room up.

They really didn't need the additional heat.

Rearranging himself behind his desk he harrumphed a few times, and said, "Thank you all for coming, I know it wasn't easy for you with such short notice. But now that you're here, there are a few things I have to clear up."

"I don't want to hear about things you have to clear up," said Rikki, "I want to know where my husband is! He was with you day before yesterday, where is he now? Why won't you tell me?" she said, clutching a Kleenex and starting to twist it back and forth.

"We'll get to that in due time, now what we need to go over is the problem that started all this. Did you bring the papers for your speedboat? It says here it was a 1984 Thunder Craft. Is that right? That's supposed to be an unsinkable model, can you tell me why it sank? Was the boat loaded beyond its' capacity? Did you not keep it in good repair? Boats like that don't just sink. It's usually poor maintenance, and sometimes a bump or hole that wasn't fixed in a timely manner."

The little group in front of the Chief could not believe their ears, what was he babbling about?

The young lawyer stood up. "Excuse me Chief Fitzgerald, my name is Richard Kullman. I'm a Junior in a Law Firm in Harrisburg (he lied), but I don't think the boat is the main topic of this meeting, we were given to understand you had Mr. Jack McKinnon in your care. Mrs. McKinnon has driven a great distance to see him. Since he's still here, she'd like to see him. If you released him and did not inform his wife, there seems to be some mishandling of prisoners here."

The young lawyer sat down, pleased that his first 'argument' had gone so well.

The Chief harrumphed loudly as though he would begin again.

He was getting red around the ears, and was harrumphing every few words now. It began to dawn on the group that he didn't have Jack in custody, and was stalling, he probably didn't even know where he was.

Since no one was answering him, the Chief began to run out of steam, he put the papers down and looked at the little group of Jack McKinnon supporters.

If I was in trouble, he thought, would there be this many willing to come all the way up here to support me?

"Well, folks, seems we have a little impasse, we can't tell you what's going on until we know ourselves," said Chief Fitzgerald. "What I can tell you is he's with one of our most trusted Sergeants, and is in the right hands that can help him."

Everyone was on their feet, some were yelling, others were talking loudly and gesturing wildly. Rikki, still sitting was crying and Carol was trying to calm her.

The Detachment Chief stood up and slammed his stapler down on the desk, this got everyone's attention and they stopped shouting.

One by one they sat down, until the last one, the young lawyer, was the only one still standing.

"Since I represent Mrs. McKinnon, I speak for her, she would like some 'real' information, she feels this has gotten out of hand, and if better information is not forthcoming, we request an interview with your superior."

This was not going as planned, fumed the Chief knowing they called Rikki too soon. He should have waited until Bill Majors came home with his Charge, but everything was happening so fast. And now, not only was Jack McKinnon gone, but so was Bill Majors.

He didn't have time for this, he had a band of wild Indians ready to scalp half the population of Carling, and who knew what they had in mind for Merriweather.

"Mrs. McKinnon, I'm sure you are concerned for your husband, and I apologise that we can't be of more help. I'm also sorry your husband isn't here, but let me assure you, he's in good hands. Go home, wait. I'm sure he'll be home in a day or two. Right now, the RCMP, and I shouldn't be telling you this, has an Indian uprising on its hands. If you leave now, you may be able to avoid the little unpleasantness that's coming."

The group sat with open mouths, and stared at him. What kind of shit was he trying to sell?

'Betty' stood up dwarfing the Chief by over a full head, "tell us again. Jack's gone, you don't know where he is, the Indians are on the war path and going to scalp us all, and you are telling us to go home to avoid this 'little unpleasantness'?"

Everyone was on their feet again, questions and accusations were flying around the room, Rikki was crying at full volume now and the Chief was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, wondering why he ever got into policing.

"Hello Chief," Bill Majors said, his head just in the door, "I didn't know you had a meeting going, I'll come back later."

Instant quiet fell over the group, as they turned in unison to look at the intruder...
Chapter 38

Seven Years Later, July 1

"Come on, Mom, we'll be late if you don't get a move on," Harry McKinnon said to his mother as she searched her purse for the elusive set of car keys.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! They can't start without us you know. I'm not sure I want to be a part of this. Your father was never much for formalities like this."

"Quit trying to weasel out, Mom, you promised we'd be there, if we don't leave soon we'll be late, and then everyone will really look at us."

"I never thought donating the money for the dock at the head of Andover Lake would cause all this fuss. I just wanted it named _McKinnon Dock_ , in memory of your father. He was a good man, you know."

"Yes, mom, I know. You've told me often enough. Just because he never came home, didn't mean he didn't want to. I understand, he promised and he always kept his word. But it's been seven full years since he disappeared. If he was alive, he would have figured out a way to come home by now."

"I sometimes forget how long it's been," said Rikki McKinnon, as they got into her black Ford.

"Let's go," she said, "I know the road to Merriweather and Carling is better than it used to be, but it's still a long way."

Mother and son rode in silence, each one lost in their own memories of the man that never came home.

Harry, just a small child had memories far different from his mothers. His were of a shadowy man that played cars with him. He had a clear memory of once going to the store for a strawberry milkshake. It stayed in his memory because he drank it all and then had such a bad bellyache because he was too full. He didn't drink strawberry milkshakes anymore, they brought a bad memory to his heart.

Rikki was remembering the good times when Harry was a baby, and Jack would come home from work and play with him on the kitchen floor. She smiled and they reminisced about the happy times.

She was doing her best not to think about the last time she was in Carling.

Seven years was a long time to wait for someone to come home, and this was going to be her final farewell.

Everything was done that could be done to find him. She contacted the RCMP station at Carling every year to see if there was any new information. She ran an ad in the local papers around Merriweather every spring, and advertised a reward for any information leading to the finding or recovery of the body of Jack McKinnon.

Nothing ever turned up. The insurance lawyers told her that she'd waited long enough. It was time to move on.

The dedication of the wharf in her husbands name on Canada Day, July 1, in conjunction with the town of Carling's annual tribute to the first settlers of the area was fitting.

Rikki felt she was finally ready to leave that part of her life behind.

The Ford pulled into the parking lot of the new municipal building in Carling. The building really wasn't new, it used to be a furniture factory, but the designation was. It looked very impressive in its' new coat of paint, and every one agreed the mural of the early days of Carling on the Fraser River added character to the refurbished hall.

"Come on, Mom," said Harry, as he got out of the car, "I think we're supposed to be in that group over by the cenotaph."

Mother and son approached and saw Bill Majors and his wife standing a little apart. His wife Jeanne was still attractive, her curly black hair and cobalt blue eyes still sparkled when she looked at Bill. The firm look on her face said no one was going to call him away today! All their married life, special occasions would arise, and he would be gone and she had to deal with the results on her own.

Not this time!

As the little group milled around, the reporters from the _Carling News_ , the _Merriweather Weekly_ , and the _Hope Advance_ made sure their lighting and sound were ready. It was not that this was such a big deal, but it did have legs in the past. If it was a slow news week, they could re-hash the uncalled for Xaali'pp Indian Uprising of 1992, this was its' 7th year anniversary. All the newspaper reporters knew Bill Majors had a key roll in that case, and today would be a good lead-in if needed.

An unanswered question was always good for circulation. What could be better than a dog drowning in Andover Lake, the owner disappearing, and best of all, the story centered on a haunted graveyard and an Indian Uprising?

Newspaper reporters at the time could never understand why the Indians decided to go to war and others wanted to know why the missing man and dog were never found. Some always wondered what the connection to the graveyard was and if all those stories were connected.

A ghostly mystery is good for a rural newspaper.

The door of the Municipal Hall opened and out came the Mayor in full regalia. Mind you, a small town like Carling didn't have much in the way of regalia. It was just a long necklace with big brass links and the town seal set on a piece of pale grey shale that was blessed by a famous Medicine Man of the St'at'ime Lill'wa'tt Nation. It became part of the regalia because it was given to the first settler on this side of the Fraser River, and he donated it to what became the young town of Carling in the early 1800's.

"Good morning everyone, thank you all for coming," said the Mayor into the make shift mike the electrician from the municipal hall had rigged.

"We are gathered here today to open our week of Celebration for Settlers Day, starting tomorrow, July 1.

"Also, at this time I would like to thank Mrs. Rikki McKinnon and her son Harry for their generous donation of a public wharf at the north end of Andover Lake. It is to be incorporated into the Provincial Park that's designated for that region by the BC Government and will bring many needed tourists dollars into our area. On behalf of the District of Lacy, many thanks," he said and shook hands all around.

The mayor knew Rikki donated the land and wharf to honor her husband who went missing seven years ago. While they never proved that he drowned, it became common knowledge, and soon became a fact.

The Tsimskaan Indian clan was here in force, as was old Chief George from the Xaali'pp band and their shaman who was originally from the Province of Quebec.

Archie J. was a central figure when the Mohawk Indians of Kahnawake, Quebec participated in 1990, in a violent 78-day standoff with Canadian Soldiers. He was also involved in the uprising seven years ago in Carling.

These days he played down unrest, stressing co-operation with the BC Government would bring the Indian Nation a steady income and independence.

Today, the BC Government in Victoria was to give their decision to the committee on the petition to build an end destination casino on their reserve at the north end of Andover Lake. It would mean jobs for the young people of the band, and provide more tourist dollars for Carling and Merriweather too. It looked like a 'win, win' situation for everyone.

No one seemed to remember the land offered for the casino, hotel and RV Park was the Ancient Indian Graveyard, and was almost next to the proposed new Provincial Park. The key piece, that everyone was trying to downplay, was Jack and Rikki McKinnon's summer property. It sat between these two parcels of land and was needed for the projected new highway that would bring countless guests to play in the gaming casino and stay in the new hotel and RV Park.

Although the land was in both the McKinnon's names, the unusual circumstances surrounding Jack McKinnon's supposed death made it mandatory that they wait the full seven years before putting it up for sale.

Now it seemed everything was almost in place.

Bill Majors eyes scanned the group, he got the creepy feeling someone was watching him, again. There was no reason for this angst. Why shouldn't he be looked at today?

Still...

A shiver ran down his back as he realized he wasn't the only one looking around, standing with Rikki McKinnon was a big man, he looked familiar, but somehow different.

When he turned and spoke to Harry, he knew.

'Betty', from the cafe in Merriweather was here to support Rikki and her son. He looked fit and at least 80 lbs lighter since the last time they met.

The Mountie checked the crowd again, and another group caught his eye, two he knew he should know. They also stood near Rikki; now he remembered; they were Barry and Carol Adler, her neighbors from Langley. It looked like everyone was here.

He knew they would probably be here, why was it causing all this anxiety?

The Founders Day ceremony was finally over, and Rikki spoke to her little group, "Hi, everyone, thank you for coming. It means a lot to me to see each one of you again. I want to invite you to lunch at 'Bettys' in an hour. See you there."

The little group smiled at each other, shook hands and agreed to meet, that's just what was needed.

A good lunch!

The guests sitting around the big table at 'Betty's' Cafe looked up when the woman at the head of the table stood up. "I want to thank you all again for coming, and also 'Betty' for letting us have our lunch at his cafe," said Rikki, nodding at the cafe owner. "Harry and I want you to know how much we appreciated all you did for us seven years ago. Losing a husband is bad, but having good friends such as all of you, makes it bearable. Good food always helps too. So I'm going to turn this lunch over to our host as I'm so hungry I could eat a horse," she laughed.

'Betty' stood up and looked around the table. It was a long time ago, but the events of the day were still fresh in his mind. No one used that old 'eat a horse' thing anymore, and he knew Rikki used it today as a reminder to him. He told her Jack said it the last time he came to eat at the diner.

"Welcome everyone," said 'Betty', "no more talk, let's eat."

Sitting down he signaled his staff to bring in the food.

He looked at the cafe door and a tall thin man entered even though the 'CLOSED' sign was on the door. His old dirty jeans were too big for him, and were supported with a worn piece of rope. The grubby blue shirt and jean jacket hung on his thin frame. He deliberately started to the back of the cafe.

Bill Majors' back straightened as he looked at the man.

His blood ran cold.

He couldn't believe it!

The last time he saw Jack McKinnon was seven years ago when he took him to the University of BC in Harrisburg to see if they could find out what was wrong with him, and he lost him.

And now here he was, again!

The thin man stopped halfway and looked at the table full of friends and collapsed.

As he crumpled to the floor, the diners gaped, mouths open. 'Betty' bolted from the table, grabbed the phone and dialed 911. The ambulance stationed next to the Merriweather grocery store, was there within moments. They checked his vital signs, started an IV drip and put him on a gurney. Protocol said; take him to the closest hospital.

The small facility in the town of Hope was it.

Again!

The doctors at the Hope hospital tried every thing they could think of, but none of it helped. Nor was the RCMP Detachment presence from Carling that was keeping a close eye on the comatose man making any difference.

The doctors spoke over the phone to a specialist in Princes Margaret Hospital in Toronto, Ontario who thought they had a similar case about 8 or 9 years ago, but the symptoms were slightly different and they also didn't know what to do for the man.

They finally decided it was a mental problem, not physical, so, they sent the patient for psychotherapy treatment. The team at the Hope Hospital thanked him and decided they were no further ahead.

Best Practice said to keep a check on his vital signs, so he was now hooked up to a heart monitor and while they weren't giving him medication, he was getting nourishment from the IV drip.

Hospital gossip was now in full swing. Since the doctors were unable to diagnose the man, advice blossomed from every corner. The most listened to was, send him to the Grace Hospital in Burnswood. It was the closest and most up-to-date in the Fraser Valley, and since they were just a small rural facility in the interior of the Province, they could ask for consultation. The Chief of Staff thought about treatment and knew they'd be unable to provide it. They couldn't help him last time, nothing had changed.

Best practice said: send him to the Grace and hope they don't send him back.

So, they did.

The next day the Senior Duty nurse at the Hospital in Hope was checking the charts of the previous day and felt faint.

This was too much Deja-vu.

Whom could she tell?

Whom should she tell?

This can't be happening again!
Chapter 39

"Hi Carol, it's Rikki, how are you? I haven't seen you since the lunch at Merriweather last week."

"Yes, I know, I've been busy at work. The lunch was unnerving wasn't it; does anyone know who the guy that passed out at 'Betty's' was? What are you saying? You've had a call from Grace Hospital? Why do they want you to come over there? Are you okay? Is there something wrong with Harry? Tell me that again, slowly," said Carol. "You want me to go with you to the hospital because they want you to look at a person that has the same symptoms as Jack? They can't mean that. Don't they keep records?"

"Oh, they keep the ones they couldn't cure or fix current, the rest goes in the 'non-current' file. Makes sense I suppose, but what can you tell them that you didn't tell them last time? Sure, I'll go with you, Barry will come too, let me know when. That soon?

"We'll pick you up at 9:00 am tomorrow morning, don't forget to eat something. I seem to remember you faint on an empty stomach."

* * * *

The doctor in charge of admissions was sitting at his desk checking the chart again. It accompanied the odd patient from the Hospital in Hope. He didn't know what to make of it. Two men from the same place with the same symptoms, seven years apart. The big question was, why didn't they wake up, or in the case of the first one, when he did physically wake up, was deep into amnesia and couldn't relate to anyone? Staff thought the current man, while still not physically awake, was also aware of what was going on.

"Those small hospitals in the Interior are well equipped today," he said to the chart, "why did they send this case to us, again!"

As he checked to see which nurse was in charge, a group of uneasy looking individuals came and stood in front of the Admissions desk.

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. McKinnon," the Senior Admissions Clerk said, "I realize this is a very long shot, but according to our files you are familiar with a similar situation."

An uproar ensued, everyone talked at the same time, saying Rikki wasn't familiar with this situation, she didn't want to have anything to do with anything. And no, she didn't really want to talk to anyone. Most of all, she didn't want the heart ache to start all over again.

"Okay, okay, everyone," the doctor in charge of Admissions said coming around his desk and out into the hall, "my name is Dr. Iverson, let's go into my office and we can all sit down. We don't think you had anything to do with anything Mrs. McKinnon.

"We just want to go over the Admission Form you filed seven years ago. We're trying to understand why and how your husband or relative found himself in his situation and how he came out of it. This is something we don't see very often. Not often indeed! This is only the second case of this sort. We now have more and better resources, but the results are still the same. Our patient is comatose, yet he seems to know what's happening, but he's unable to communicate with any of the staff."

The group sat and listened, they couldn't believe their ears. Rikki sat transfixed, unable to speak.

"You understand," the doctor said, "we don't keep all records. Just the pertinent facts and that he woke up and discharged himself. For some reason we don't have any information on what kind of treatment he received. We would appreciate any help you can give us."

"It was my husband that had whatever this is," said Rikki, looking at the doctor with tears in her eyes, "and no, he never came out of it that I knew of. He woke up, but he didn't know me, and he wasn't the same person. You let him discharge himself from the hospital. The RCMP and the Insurance Company assumes he's dead.

"I know you have to wait seven years to declare someone legally dead," she said again, a lot louder, "my husband has been missing and presumed dead for seven years and now you tell me he's back?"

"Please don't misunderstand, Mrs. McKinnon, we're not saying this man is your husband, we just think he has the same problem."

"Why do you think this is the same condition that Jack had?" said Carol Adler, holding Rikki's hand.

"When our former patient was here, we did blood work. A little primitive for what we can do now, but we still have that paperwork. This patient has the same blood type, and his hemoglobin is low too. It can cause macrocytic (large blood cell volume) anemia. Vitamin B12, along with folate is involved in making the heme molecule that is an integral part of hemoglobin. Folate deficiency can be the culprit of anemia as well, lectured the doctor.

"I know you can't see the anemia, but you can see what it does to the body; do you think you could look at him? Does he look the same? Is there any way he could be your husband?" said the doctor, coming around his desk to stand in front of the little group.

They turned to him in unison, their eyes large with questions; this was a case of too much information and too little preparation.

The doctor stopped, mouth open!

The woman at his feet had crumpled to the floor without so much as a whimper.

Carol Adler glared at the doctor. "Now look what you've done, she hasn't done that since the lawyer said Jack was probably dead. She's not as strong as she looks; this is all a terrible strain on her."

"I'm dreadfully sorry," said the embarrassed doctor as he raised her head, and carefully offered her a cup of water from the carafe on his desk.

Rikki looked at the doctor and tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just been so long since more information about Jack has come up," she said from the floor. "I finally decided, I've waited the full seven years, if he wasn't dead, he'd have found a way to come home by now. It's time my son and I got on with our lives and let him go. And now you've started it up all over again."

"I'm very sorry Mrs. McKinnon; but we really need you to look at him. You don't have to speak to him; we can arrange for you to see him through one way glass."

"What do you think," she said, turning to the small group around her, "should I see if it could be him?"

"We're coming too," said 'Betty', who drove down from Merriweather at 5:00 a.m. with Sergeant Bill Majors to be with her. "We all need to see what you see," he said turning to the others, Barry and Carol Adler nodded their approval and moved closer to Rikki.

"If you can stand now, Mrs. McKinnon, I'll see if the patient is ready," the doctor said as he left the room and hurried down the hall.

They watched him disappear around the corner and turned to one another for support. This seemed like such an anticlimax for the ongoing saga of _, 'Where was Jack McKinnon going to show up next?'_

Rikki was deep breathing; she learned how when she went to a class to learn to: ' _Be calm in the face of Disaster, Real or Imagined_ '.

She was busy trying to keep her feelings in check.

What if?

What if it's not him?

Worse question, what if it is him?

Everyone was shifting from foot to foot, trying to make small talk, trying to keep the 'elephant in the room' at bay and out of the conversation, hanging on to reality, hoping for the best.

A young nurse appeared down the hall walking towards them. She was smiling her 'everything is just FINE!' smile; she learned it in nursing school.

"Mrs. McKinnon?" she said to the crowd.

They all gave way around Rikki and she stood by herself. "That's me," she said, "I'm Mrs. McKinnon."

"Please come with me. If the rest of you wouldn't mind waiting in the alcove here by the window, I'm sure Mrs. McKinnon will be with you shortly." She turned, expecting to be followed.

Rikki just stood there, she wasn't going anywhere without her backup team.

"Really Mrs. McKinnon, there is no need for all these people, all you need to do is look through the window, he can't see you, but you'll be able to see him. We're trying to keep him as calm as possible."

"If he can't see me, he can't see them either, if they don't go, neither do I."

"Well!"

"Come on, all of you," said 'Betty', "she needs to know, we need to know, too."

The group moved slowly down the hall, with the indignant nurse trailing. When they came to the end of the corridor and turned the corner, there was a window into a private room. Walking up to it, they looked in.

And... he looked back!

There was an audible intake of breath and Rikki clung to Carol Adler for support.

The nurse pushed to the front and looked in also, she spoke to the astonished group and said, "I know it looks like he's looking back at you, but I assure you this is one-way glass. There is no way he is able to see you. Nor can he tell if anyone is here."

The small group turned as one and looked in again.

He was still looking at them.

Rikki was holding Carol by the arm so tightly it was beginning to hurt. The men continued to stare. 'Betty' harrumphed a few times and shifted his feet; he was trying to decide if this wasted figure in the bed was in any way his old friend.

"Please take you time, see if you can find any resemblance to your husband. I'm sorry, but I'm needed at the Nurses Desk for a few moments, I'll be back shortly."

As they watched, a short dark nurse opened the door. She wore an unfamiliar uniform. The figure in the bed lay still, his eyes almost closed, but they could see he was watching her. She walked to the bed and looked at the wasted man laying there. Checking to make sure the door was closed; she took an object on a thin cord from around her neck and put it around his neck. She closed his hand over the little leather bag and it clung to him.

Then she checked the heart monitor, straightened the already straight bed sheets and left.

The small group on the other side of the one-way window looked at each other. With mutual accord, nothing was mentioned to the returning nurse.
Chapter 40

The ride home from the hospital was quiet. They were in two cars, the Adler's and Rikki in her car, and the other two in 'Betty's' SUV. It seemed like a very long ride. They were all thinking the same thing, but no one wanted to bring it up.

Both cars arrived at the same time, and parked in front of the McKinnon house.

Carol went to the two men in the van and told them to come in for coffee. She was glad she considered the possibility the day before, and baked a lemon sponge cake and asked her daughter Karen to put some coffee on and set the table.

The little group made their way through the lane and into the Adler's back yard. Carol was first one in and saw with approval the dining room prepared for company.

They all found a place to sit, not much banter and concerned faces all around.

Carol Adler stood up and spoke to the group. "I know this has been a mind bending day, and on behalf of Rikki, I want to thank you for coming. I think we need to hear what she has to say about all this. Should she accept that the man we saw this morning is Jack McKinnon, or do we deny this could be him? What do you say Rikki?"

Sitting very still and staring at her plate with the yummy sponge cake, she gave a little hick-up and slithered to the floor.

Pandemonium broke loose as half the guests crouched under the table and tried to help and the other half tried to get out of the way of those that were doing the helping.

Carol raced into the kitchen and got some ice cubes. She put them in her tea towel to make a cold compress. It was a little lumpy, but would have to do.

Bill Majors and 'Betty' had Rikki propped up and were trying to decided where to pat her. It showed very clearly on TV, you slapped people who fainted on the cheeks. Neither man could bring himself to do that.

Carol finally arrived with the ice. The soothing cool of the tea towel on her head began to bring her around and she looked up and saw the worried circle.

A little tear trickled down the side of her face and she began to shrink inside herself.

"I'm sorry everyone," she said, "I don't know why I'm doing this. I thought I was over this passing out thing. I haven't done it for years. Let me get up and we'll finish our coffee and cake."

'Betty' helped her from the floor and held the chair while she sat down with a small thump.

"Okay folks, I'm not here in any kind of legal capacity, but something funny is going on here and I don't like it," Sergeant Bill Majors said. "Why now? Where has that man been? He looks barely alive. Something fishy is going on here."

"I feel the same way; I can't put my finger on it, but why now? We need to find out where he's been, and why he didn't stay home the last time. We need some legal help to make whoever had him talk. Where is that wanna-be lawyer kid that was with us last time?" said 'Betty'.

"I can answer that," Barry Adler said, "you probably read about him in the papers. He's an 'up-and-coming' lawyer these days with a big firm in Harrisburg that's trying to get an 'End Destination Indian Casino' built at the north end of Andover Lake. We still keep in touch with his folks, but the son is a busy man."

"Oh."

"Not that he wouldn't want to hear the latest news on his first 'Big Case'. We'll call and see if they think he'd be interested," said Carol.

The little group looked at their plates and decided it was time to eat. Karen brought in an appetizer tray and some veggies on a platter and they all helped themselves. Things were starting to look brighter and good food and talk helped. Maybe with a little more planning and some luck, something good would happen.

Carol Adler worked hard to create a happier note around the table. She remembered the time Jack threw out the paint cans with the money and bonds in them. Amid smiles and the occasional chuckle, she wove a frustrating experience into a funny story; the three McKinnon's chasing down the lane in their pajamas with house coats flying after the garbage truck. The story came alive and everyone grinned, relieved to be able to smile at something.

Finally, they ate the last of the cake, the coffee pot was empty and it was time to leave.

The Adlers said they'd find the lawyer. Bill Majors said he'd look into where exactly the Indians were going to build the casino, and 'Betty' said he'd go and look at the McKinnon cabin.

Rikki hadn't been to the lake since Jack disappeared and couldn't bear the idea of going without him. Harry, while a strapping young teenager wasn't old enough to open a cabin he'd not been to in 7 years. Besides, they had no boat, and she didn't want to buy one.

Everyone around the table had a job to do and they agreed to a meeting in Merriweather to share their information. Barry Adler said give it a week, if it was more complicated, they'd figure out what to do then.

They were in better spirits as they left the dinning room chatting and making plans for when and what time to meet. As they filed out the back door, they realized they were one short and turned in unison to see Rikki still sitting at the table, her eyes on her full cup of tea still thinking about the strange nurse in the hospital.
Chapter 41

A few nights later the night shift Senior Duty nurse was walking down the corridor of the small hospital in Hope. The worried look on her face had nothing to do with the nurses and patients under her care.

She came to the Duty Desk, sat down, took the note out of her pocket and looked at it again.

Reading it over and over wasn't going to make it go away. I have to do something, she thought, and the something she had to do was what she really, really didn't want to. But, she picked up her phone and dialed the number on the note, and waited impatiently for it to be answered.

"Hello."

"We're ready."

"I'll see you at the end of your shift in the parking lot," and the phone went dead.

Now I've done it, she worried to herself, I poked my nose in where it wasn't wanted and now look what happened. "My family is going to lose its standing in the band! How will we manage, Fred will kill me," she said to the silent phone, "I only wanted to help."

Routine kicked in, and the nurse got up and began to make her rounds. Her duties were as much to the sick patients on the wards, as with the running of the hospital.

The evening shift dragged on, no problems, just routine to relieve the anxiety and it didn't help, but it gave her lots of time to think.

As she moved mechanically, her hands busy, her mind went over the situation again. She thought of when she realized the patient that had come in a few weeks ago, was the Jack McKinnon everyone thought was dead. He was unwilling to speak at the time, and although they tried, the white doctors didn't understand what was wrong with him. It wasn't until the night they sent him to the Grace Hospital in Burnswood and she was going over the records for the day that she realized what happened, again.

The hospital wasn't responsible for the state of the patient, but she knew who and what was causing his problem.

She should have minded her own business; it was all her fault.

She should have known better. But she did what any well raised Indian girl would do.

She talked to her father.

He told her to tell the old medicine man.

But, she didn't!

Look what a mess she made of it.

She knew what she stumbled on, but she didn't go to the right medicine man. She thought he was too old; she went to the younger one, the one that came to them from eastern Canada, the one The People called Running Wolf. He seemed to be doing a lot of things right. She thought it was too bad the uprising didn't happen, it would've made the Provincial Government live up to the original Treaties that were signed in 1850 when the white man came and took over their land.

But that was all water under the bridge now. Lawyers were piloting treaties through the courts. It was taking a long time, but good things were starting to happen, especially in the downtown core of the big cities. It was slow, but new changes were making life better.

When she went to Burnswood the other day on hospital business and saw the caring people who were looking at the silent man, and she knew why he was in that state, how could she not help?

She kept telling herself she didn't know the medicine bag she hung around his neck and tucked into his hand that day was going to break the spell he was under.

It was given to her, to keep her safe.

The old medicine man who finally heard her story, gave it to her and said never take it off.

But, she did.

She gave it to Jack McKinnon that day in the hospital, and now Running Wolf wanted to know where she got it?

Thank the Great Spirit that she finally spoke to her father and told him about the medicine bag and who was interested in it.

After tonight, Running Wolf wouldn't know where she was, she, her husband and children would be gone.
Chapter 42

The following day Barry Adler called Ralph Kullman, the father of their young lawyer, and arranged for a visit on Tuesday. He said let's do dinner in Burnswood and arrangements were made.

He wasn't sure how to broach the subject of Jack McKinnon again. The last time didn't turn out the way their son expected.

What a disaster, no fees and no publicity.

No one in the group had the kind of money Richard commanded these days, and he probably was too busy to run around doing Pro Bono work for his folk's old neighbors.

But, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

Carol was having second thoughts too. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to get in touch with Richard Kullman again.

It was too late though, and Barry thought if they were willing, they'd go and see Jack McKinnon in the hospital. Well, not exactly visit him, but see him through the one-way window. Maybe they'd understand the situation better and be able to explain it to their son.
Chapter 43

'Betty' was having a bad day!

Good help was hard to find, and the last two waiters only stayed around long enough to collect their week's wages and eat their own body weight in free food. Although 'Betty' was more experienced than in earlier years, he still found it stressful and wearing with no help for the noon rush, and the evening meal was a disaster. Yesterday customers waited over a half hour for their hamburgers. He needed some quick help.

But he also had to go up to the McKinnon's cabin and see what was its' condition. It was seven years since anyone was up there, it must look abandoned and need a lot of work.

But a promise was a promise, so he looked around for a piece of paper and a black marker pen and wrote the following note.

Cafe will be closed Tuesday. But I'll be open Wednesday first thing. Also, I'm looking for a new waiter. Permanent Position available.

He stood up, took the note and pinned it to the CLOSED sign and turned it around so the words faced out.

Now he had to get his boat gassed up and fix some sandwiches for tomorrow. It was a long way up to the McKinnon cabin and he had to check everything and make a list of any repairs.

The next day was a glorious start for a day on the lake.

The sky was 'blue as your sweetheart's eyes', sang the cowboy singer on the radio.

No one saw the small puffs of white cloud forming over snow covered Scuff Peak; they looked like soap bubbles, white transparent soap bubbles, and they were getting bigger.

On the water at 7:30 am in his brand new red Fiberform Surfrider, 'Betty' was going up to the McKinnon cabin. He watched the sky and noted the small white clouds over the south end of the Bendor Range. He checked the near shore of the lake frequently trying to stay close in, but far enough out to avoid running aground on a shallow outcrop.

I should've brought someone else with me as company, he thought. And to make sure nothing odd, or funny, or ??, happened. He wasn't afraid of the 'odd' or 'funny', but he had second thoughts about the '??'.

After all, there were unanswered questions from the last time someone went up lake to the cabin by the Ancient Indian Burial Ground.

'Betty's' thoughts turned unwillingly to seven years ago and the fate of Jack McKinnon. The fact the dog went down didn't help, and when his body didn't come up, it was really bad.

Now, there might be some closure. Maybe the man in Burnswood at the Grace Hospital really was Jack McKinnon. But that brought up a lot of new questions. Why did he look half-starved? Why didn't he know them if he really was Jack McKinnon? Where'd he been all this time? Why didn't he come home? And, most of all, why now?

'Betty' was concentrating and wasn't aware the sky was darkening. The wind began to pick up and sprayed the windshield of the boat with lake water, it rocked sideways as the waves hit.

His reverie broken, he turned the wheel sharply to the left to head into the waves. Now the heavens opened, just a small pitter pat at first, then the wind blew the rain harder, it was coming down in almost gale force, he could hardly see the front of the boat. Fighting to keep control, he headed into the waves, but a rogue upsurge pulled the steering wheel out of his hands and the boat reared up and fell!

Never thought I'd make it to shore, thought 'Betty' as he lay panting, half in the lake and half on shore.

Crawling up the bank and pulling himself over the berm, he saw a cabin.

Thank god it was close.

He managed to stand and staggered up the path. The front door and its' frame were hanging askew on a shiny nail. Peering inside, he saw a potbelly stove. He had to get warm; he was so cold he could hardly control the shaking.

He didn't care about the crooked door, but he looked up; over the door jam was a white bone with a stylized human head carved on each end...it was upside down.

He turned and faced the lake. It was night now, no lights, no stars. How could that be?

Fear bubbled up and overwhelmed the cold. He knew he had to get away, but the need to see inside the cabin conquered all. He put his hand on the door, and it began to open, terror reached up and grabbed him, and he turned and ran.

The heavy gloom was trying to keep 'Betty' by the cabin.

As he charged through the underbrush the branches were scratching his face and arms, it was as though they didn't want him to go this way, either. No matter, anywhere was better than what was back there.

The story Bill Majors told of the cabin with the door and frame hanging by a nail came back. Jack McKinnon's hurried after.

Reality began to set in as he fought to get away. Soon the night didn't seem as dark as before, through the murky half light he saw tracks, train tracks and he knew he'd be okay if he followed them.

He looked around; the darkness was lifting in front of him? How can this be? There's the sun, it wasn't night after all? Now he was terrified, and he ran!
Chapter 44

Carol and Barry Adler sat in their Acura, and waited outside the new Estrella Restaurant in 'Burnswood By the Quay' that Wednesday. It was the latest in fine dining and recently opened.

"What if they don't come?" fretted Carol. Her husband had thoughts of his own. Maybe it would be better if they didn't. It would be a lot less trouble. But that wouldn't help Rikki and Harry. If it isn't going to be Richard doing the legal work, it will have to be someone else. Someone really cheap.

"What do you think Rikki should do about that letter she got yesterday, you know, the one from the Xaali'pp band that said she didn't own the land the cabin was on, and she had to remove the cabin or they would charge her rent? She gave me the letter to show Richard when we see him. I hope he'll be able to help us. Actually, help Rikki."

"Don't get too deep into other peoples troubles;" said Barry, "maybe they're right. I know she was looking for the Land Title papers last night and her lights were still on when we went to bed.

"I know she had them, do you think that break-in last month has anything to do with this?"

"Never mind, here they come."

"Hi Milly, hi Ralph, good to see you. Let's go and get a table. I've been watching a lot of folks go in; looks like a popular place."

"Hi yourself Barry, we had a heck of a time finding this out-of-the-way restaurant. What's wrong with your road signs out here in the suburbs? Our GPS doesn't even have this street in its system."

The men, kidding each other, headed for the restaurant leaving the women to bring up the rear.

"Hi Milly, I don't know where chivalry went, but it sure doesn't live in Langley," complained Carol as they walked behind the men.

"Never mind, I'm planning on having the most expensive steak in the place!" laughed Milly. She knew her husband was a frugal man and it would annoy him no end, but he wouldn't say anything with company there. He enjoyed playing the tight-fisted husband, the truth was, he was a big softy and she usually got her own way.

Now that their only son finished university and doing so well, there was no need to pinch the pennies so hard. But he still did it, because it amused him.

Their son, on the other hand, lived the high life, and it was okay, he had the job that could pay for it. His success was remarkable for such a young man with so little experience.
Chapter 45

The Hospital in Burnswood was having a bad day.

Seems they couldn't find a patient. It wasn't as though they lost him, they just misplaced him.

The Head Nurse had a heated discussion with Dr. Iverson from Admissions. He felt her staff should have been more attentive to the Quiet Man.

Usually, the staff didn't give nick names to their patients, but this one had no formal name and hadn't said one word since he was transported by ambulance from the hospital at Hope.

He was no trouble, he just lay there, when they told him to sit up, he did. When they told him to lie down, he did. When they told him to eat, he didn't.

Good Practice said, if he won't or can't eat, hook him up to an IV. So they did. But as soon as they left the room, it was out of his vein and on the floor.

The Head Nurse wanted to get Mrs. McKinnon in again to see if she had any ideas about how to treat their patient. If he was her husband, she should know why he was reacting this way.

Dr. Iverson, remembering her collapse at his feet, wasn't that sure it was a good idea. Mrs. McKinnon was very fragile.

But he knew they had to do something, but the first thing was... find him!
Chapter 46

Bill Majors sat at his desk in Carling, trying to read the small print on the forms in front of him. Try as he might, none of it made any sense. It seemed to be talking in circles. To much lawyer babble, he thought.

He put the papers down and looked out his window.

Now what?

Chief George of the Xaali'pp band was standing in the parking lot looking towards the building.

A lot had changed in the last seven years; Chief George was Chief in name only. All the power seemed to rest with the shaman called Archie J. or Running Wolf, and he had broadened his base of influence to include many of the neighboring bands.

Once the self-styled uprising in Merriweather and Carling was deflated by the expanded RCMP presence loaned to them by Headquarters, the Indians became peaceful, passive... almost meek.

In the Sergeants' experience, this was never a good sign. Now, watching the old Chief walk across the parking lot, he knew there was trouble again.

"Hi Chief," Bill Majors said greeting him, as he opened his office door and offered him a chair. The old man sat down and sighed. It had finally come to this. What would The People say if they knew their Chief went to the RCMP for help?

Chief George knew in his heart, he should have confided in Sergeant Majors sooner; when it was just a small irritation, now it was a huge problem of enormous proportions.

And... worst of all, it was all his own fault.

Sergeant Majors listened to the story the Chief of the Xaali'pp band was telling him. The hair on the back of his neck started to rise when he got to the part where he spoke of the 'tame' white man, the medicine man Running Wolf, kept.

He was about to interrupt when the Chief stopped talking and looked at the floor.

It was going to get worse?

The truth dawned, and the Sergeant knew.

The man that passed out in the cafe last week really was Jack McKinnon.

The Mountie looked at the forlorn old man sitting on the other side of his desk, and didn't know what to say. Questions and more questions popped into his mind. The biggest one being, how could this man who was supposed to be the leader of his band, allow this to happen.

He also knew what brought it all to a climax!

Money!

Money in the form of a gaming casino!

The failed uprising seven years ago was still a sore point with the medicine man. But he regrouped when the band was offered concessions from the Provincial Government for the use of the ancient burial grounds at the head of Andover Lake.

Rather than just concessions, Running Wolf wanted more. He was telling everyone he was going to build the End Destination Casino and Hotel himself. Now he would have money as well as prestige in the White Man's world.

"Just a moment here," Sergeant Majors said, "Indians don't own or run casinos in Canada in 1999. Just what does Running Wolf think he's going to do, change the law?"

"Yes. Now he's got a 'tame' lawyer, and he's really smart. He's making the company he works for so much money they let him do anything he wants, actually, anything Running Wolf wants."

"What's this lawyer's name?"

"Richard Kullman."
Chapter 47

"Hi mom, Hi dad," said Richard Kullman, "what brings you all the way to downtown Vancouver? I'm coming to dinner on Friday, what's so important that it couldn't wait?"

"Well, son, do you remember our old friends from Langley? The Adler's? And that first case you almost had? You went up to Carling with them. It fizzled out; I remember you were disappointed, you thought it was going to be the legal case of the year. Well, things have come up again and they need some advice. We thought when you come over for dinner Friday we could ask the Adler's over too and you could talk to them. I'm sure you could give them some direction. I know they don't have enough money for a big legal bill.

"What do you say?"

"Sure, dad, I look forward to seeing them. I'm still interested in the problem Mrs. McKinnon had. I remember it was the first day home after I graduated from university in Victoria and we went over to their place. What a problem that never was! Anyway, I'm busy now, so I'll see you Friday. Looking forward to some lemon pie, mom," Richard Kullman said as he ushered his folks out the door.
Chapter 48

Bill Majors processed the new information Chief George offered with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"You're in luck," he said; new resolve taking hold, "I know someone who can help us. But we have to hurry, we don't have much time."

Bill and the Chief got into the RCMP cruiser and headed for Highway 97 and Vancouver. There was a three-car accident in Manning Park and traffic piled up.

It was after 4:00 o'clock when they finally made the University of BC, Endowment lands, and the Sergeant was afraid they were too late. Better go check anyway, he thought, and was pleased he remembered the way. It was only a few minutes later and they were at the big glass and steel building. Bill Majors parked and they entered in time to see a short, blond, rotund man coming out of the elevator.

"Dr. Little Bow, do you remember me, Sergeant Bill Majors, Carling RCMP? I brought a man to you several years ago for help; we went to see your grandfather?"

Edmund Little Bow looked the RCMP Sergeant over and nodded his head, "How could I forget you, Bill?" as he shook hands all around.

"You're Chief George, you know my grandfather," he said to the other man standing there. "What can I do for you?"

Chief George blinked when he saw who Bill Majors was talking to, it was bad enough he had to deal with Running Wolf, but now he knew there'd be real trouble. Talk about bringing out 'the Big Guns', you didn't get much bigger or influential in the 'Indian Family' than the Little Bow clan.

The professor looked from man to man, turned to the elevator and pushed the 'UP' button.

Knowing what was going on, he'd been waiting for this visit.
Chapter 49

The following week, Rikki and Harry were in the back seat of the Adler's Acura. They were on their way to Merriweather to meet everyone and plan what to do next.

Rikki thought about the phone call from the hospital in Burnswood. It was terrible news. She ran over the events of the past week and wondered if there was anything she should have done differently. Maybe she should have gone to the hospital more. But the nurses said her visits were making their patient anxious. After she left, he would squirm, and once he fell out of bed. The last time she was there, when she left it was even worse. That was when they said, don't come until we call. He has to wake up, or regain his senses, they didn't care which.

She was anxious, shifting in her seat, and squirming until Harry asked if she was all right?

No! She wasn't all right! How could she tell him, and everyone else, Jack disappeared... again!

The call from the hospital wanted to know if he went home?

What was wrong with those nurses that they couldn't hang on to Jack McKinnon? How could she tell everyone, especially Harry that his dad was gone.

In the end, she thought, might as well get it over with and sat up straight, "Barry, Carol, Harry, I have some new news. I couldn't tell you sooner, I didn't know about it until early this morning, just before we left.

"Grace Hospital has lost your dad again, Harry. He's gone and they don't know where, and they're not sure when. I don't think I can stand this. What's wrong with them... wasn't anyone watching?"

The trip continued with everyone lost in their own thoughts. How could this continue to happen? Were they no further ahead than seven years ago?

Rikki knew the media would find out about his disappearance, and the police up and down the Fraser River would look for him. But it didn't help last time, why would it help now?

* * * *

Everyone was gathered around the table in 'Betty's' cafe. They were all on time and prepared.

Bill Majors was chairing the meeting and harrumphed, all eyes turned to him.

He started the meeting by welcoming everyone and reminding them to not all talk at the same time. He told Rikki to start. She couldn't bring herself to tell the latest news. So she spoke of not finding the deed to the property on Andover Lake, but remembered vividly when Jack paid it off, and the dinner they had to celebrate.

Next came Carol and Barry Adler, they reviewed their conversation with the Kullmans and said they were going to dinner at Milly and Ralph's home this Friday and there would be more news as Richard would be there too. Barry said it was good to have a lawyer on their side. They too didn't want to tell Jack was gone again, it was up to Rikki to mention it, and she didn't look ready.

Sergeant Bill Majors said he better go next as he had bad news. Everyone looked at him. He began by giving a shortened version of seven years ago when the Xaali'pp band got a new medicine man. He also covered Jack McKinnon's disappearance at the same time, and brought everyone up-to-date with the information about the new casino from Chief George.

'Betty' interrupted and told of his experience when he tried to go up to the McKinnon cabin. He described the weather that came up and the cabin with the hanging door and the train tracks, and his walk back to Merriweather. But he didn't say anything about the upside down 'soul catcher'.

Rikki put her hand up again, and all eyes turned to her. "I've some more news that you need to hear," she said, "I can't stand this! Grace Hospital called early this morning to let me know they lost Jack again. They looked everywhere, and wanted to know if he came home. I told them, no."

"Okay everyone, this is terrible," Bill Majors said, "we have to figure out what to do next, and told them who the lawyer the Indians had that was doing such a good job of changing the law.

Every jaw at the table dropped! How could such a nice kid as Richard Kullman be doing this? And him so young and inexperienced?

"Never mind," said the Sergeant, "we have some extra help too. I'm sure I'll have some better information for the next meeting."

There was an uneasy silence in the car on the way home as Barry kept his eyes on the road back to Langley and tried to think how this information was going to affect what was going on.

Harry closed his eyes and everything he read _on line_ the last few days came back. He was older now and learning a lot on his new computer, especially about the internet. There was a lot to read on Canadian Indian history and specifically the Xaali'pp band.

He knew First Nations were coming into the 20th century and life was changing fast. Aboriginal Peoples were in every aspect of Canadian life now with doctors, lawyers, and politicians, the list went on.

What Harry didn't find, was much on the West Coast Indian medicine man, or shaman. What he did find was conflicting stories, some information said they were evil, some said not.

He had questions, but they were different from the ones plaguing his mother and her friends. He knew there was an answer to all this, they just had to keep looking.
Chapter 50

The next evening Bill Majors was sitting in his police car, waiting for the short overweight professor from UBC. Arrangements were to meet at the Esso station just outside Carling around 8:00 pm.

While he waited, he made a mental note to remind himself about lunch with Rikki and everyone else.

He also checked his other paper list, he had a variety of things he wanted cleared up and knew the old man knew most of the answers. The incident from seven years ago came unbidden to his mind, and he saw once again the tall Indian brave with the black hair and the hunting bow across his back. And he knew whether you were tall or short, white or Indian, it's what's inside that counted.

A new black Volvo pulled into the parking slot beside him. Two men got out and stood in the parking lot. The old man had an uneasy look on his face, and continually touched the medicine bag hanging from his neck.

"Hello, Mr. Little Bow, Edmund," said Bill Majors, "thank you for coming," and turned to lead the way to the local cafe in the next block, but when he looked back, they were still standing by their car.

He walked back and said, "I'm sorry, I understood we would have coffee and talk."

"Young man, I'm too old for this. This place is not good. Follow me."

With that, he got back in the car. Edmund quickly motioned the Sergeant out of earshot.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," said Edmund Little Bow, "he's been anxious ever since I picked him up, and that makes me very nervous. He said we were going down to the bend in the river; you know where that is, park by the tall fir trees. Try to look like you're not going with us. Go the other way and double back."

What kind of shit is this, thought Bill Majors? Why shouldn't I talk to them? I'm the law around here, who should I be afraid of?

But because he wanted the old man to give some answers, he did as asked.

When he pulled on to the sandy river bank and parked, he saw the other car. There was only the young man in it now. Where was the old one? Then he saw him on the other side of the car, closer to the river.

He had a small fire going.

The Mountie walked up to the car, the professor inside didn't see him, he was chanting and shaking an old, old rattle.

Bill Majors realized he wasn't going to catch his eye so he went over to the old man.

"Hello again, sir," he said to Edmund's grandfather, "nice fire."

"Young man, nice doesn't cover it. This fire will tell you all you need to know. Bring that log end over here," he said, "I'm too old to sit on damp sand anymore."

Grandfather sat down and drew three small, smooth, very white stones from the Medicine Bag around his neck. He began to chant and placed them on the wet sand by his feet.

The professor got out of the car and stood waiting. The old man, still tending the fire, nodded to him and told both of them where to sit.

Now they formed a triangle, the old man sat in the north, the other two at equal distance, the fire in the middle, the stones beside the old man.

As the old Shaman sat and stared into the fire, evening crept in and sat with them. The stars began to appear and a full moon the white man called Harvest, pulled itself up over the watching mountain. Yellow light bathed the three men below, but they were not aware.

Business people were moving around in the fire, but the talk wasn't clear. The old man chose a particular black root from his medicine bag and threw it into the centre of the fire, it flared and sparks flew skyward.

Now they heard and understood.

As he watched, the Sergeant recognized the speaker as the young Graduate Law student, Richard Kullman; and was amazed at what he was saying. He was getting ready to submit a petition for Aboriginal Peoples to form a consortium, build and run a casino with an adjacent hotel, restaurant and RV Park on the Ancient Indian Burial Ground, at the head of Andover Lake.

Then the scene shifted and the fire turned in on itself and began to die; they saw a man, thin, haggard and alone wandering along the river by the old fish ladders. Though no longer used, they were still a source of great power. As he dragged along the faint path back to the man who trapped him, he chanted a plea to the great Creator for freedom. His keeper was unaware he knew that song...he would not have been pleased.

The moon was over head now and beginning its' decent into the hills, but there was one last thing that needed to be seen.

The old man obviously tired now, opened his bag and removed three leaves, one, a large green maple leaf from the eastern lands of the Mohawk. The second also large and green had a big hole eaten by a worm; the last leaf while not large was withered and worn, but still intact.

Chanting an ancient plea, he carefully wrapped each white stone in its' own leaf.

Then with words of prayer, he placed them by the small fire so that each leaf withered and each stone turned black, then he threw them all into the embers of the fire.

Up it flared again!

This time it was not time past, Indians sat on chairs around a fire; you could see it was a feast in someone's honor, women and girl children moved behind the men passing roasted deer and wild turkey on plastic platters. Trays of bannock, baskets of wild onions, hickory nuts, garlic and berries went from warrior to warrior. They passed the white man's firewater to each man to honor an 'Algonquin' medicine man. He sat in all his regalia in the place of honor.

As the evening wore on, they told tales of past glory, soon the men got up to dance around the huge fire.

The medicine man got up to dance, he began to chant and shake his rattles. Excitement grew and blood lust raised its ugly head. The fire grew higher and rose to the heavens! The scene changed, the sun was gone now, there was blood and pain, death lurked at the edge of the fire, wounded and lifeless warriors lay abandoned on the ground. Wives and mothers keened, and sang the 'Song of the Dead'. In times past the women would have put ashes on their heads, and painted their palms red to show they were overcome.

But that was then, this was now.

One man still stood!

Did he stand because he didn't fight?

Did he stand to fight again, or was he the reason for the fight?

Before the watcher's eyes he crouched down, his back arched and his arms thickened with fur, his head pulled forward and his ears pricked up, his nose turned black, and stood on the end of a short snout. His half-shut eyes were sly, fervently he looked around and seeing a hidden path put his tail between his legs and slunk off.

The fire went out!

And it was dark...

The old man, cold and barely able to sit up now, closed his eyes and began to chant, slowly weaving a charm of protection over the two men who were watching.

The professor and the Sergeant looked around; they were stiff and confused.

Then Bill remembered and was terrified, but was it real?

Was it over?

The old man put his hand out to his grandson, "this is enough, you have seen, what you have seen."

He stood up and with unsure steps made his way back to the car. Edmund Little Bow gave his head a shake and followed his grandfather.

The car started and they were gone.

The Sergeant still sat, his back sore, his eyes red, his mind reeling. He could hardly believe what his eyes said they saw. Was any of it true? He had to talk it over with someone who understood.

He got into his cruiser and headed for Merriweather.

* * * *

"Get up, get up! You won't believe what I saw," Bill Majors yelled as he pounded on the door of 'Betty's Cafe' in Merriweather before dawn.

A very grumpy 'Betty' stood inside the screen door of his small apartment; scratched his belly and watched a dishevelled RCMP Sergeant pound on the cafe door.

'Betty' had a nice little two-room flat at the back of the building. Everyone knew where the cafe ended and his home began but the agitated man still pounding on the door, didn't seem to remember.

"Okay, Okay Serge, no need to break down the door," called 'Betty' standing outside his apartment door now. "Come in, I'll make you a cup of coffee."

Bill Majors stumbled towards the voice. Almost there he blacked out at the cafe owner's feet.

"Okay, now I know for sure you're not drunk," he said to the exhausted man as he lifted him up, dragged him into the kitchen and propped him up against the wall. "But I sure don't know what you've been doing. Sit there for a moment or two; I'll make some coffee."

'Betty', keeping an eye on his guest to make sure he didn't pass out again, got out his big Percolator and began to add coffee and water. He turned the burner on the stove to high, and knew there would be a lot of hot, strong coffee in six minutes.

"I've got something to tell you that you're not going to believe," Bill said as his eyes opened and he realized where he was. He smelled the coffee and his mouth began to water. "I have to tell someone, I need to know if I just dreamed this or did it really happen."

"What're ya talking about?"

"I'm talking about my meeting with Edmund Little Bow and his grandfather last night, .I.. I... can hardly think about this stuff... let alone talk about it."

The Mountie looked around and realized he was sitting on the floor. He got up, sat on the kitchen chair, and began to run his fingers through his hair. It seemed to calm him, and he began...

"It's all a jumble in my mind, you're going to have to hear me out all the way before you ask questions or I won't be able to finish."

'Betty' put two giant mugs on the table, poured the coffee and sat down. "Okay," he said, "tell me what I need to hear."

Dawn finally broke over the small town of Merriweather, there was no blood in the sky, no lightening strikes, and no thunder rolls, it was a day like every other day.

But, in 'Betty's' flat, everything was different.

"You've been talking for two hours now, Bill, how can I believe what I'm hearing? What are we supposed to do? Like, who do these lawyers think they are; can they alter the law, just like that?

"That's a Sacred Ancient Indian Burial Ground up there at the head of the lake, how is the lawyer going to change that?

"And why did all the Indians die? Who was the guy that changed into a wolverine after everyone else was dead? Did that mean he was the villain? Are you sure you weren't smoking those funny cigarettes while you were seeing this?" 'Betty' said filling the coffee cups for the third time.

"The only thing I think I understood," said 'Betty' smiling at his own smart remark, "was the thin guy walking by the river. If he's anybody, he must be Jack McKinnon. What are you supposed to do about that? Who are you going to arrest and how can you make them let their slave go? Sorry, but I think there are more questions now, than answers."

"We have to get more and better advice," Bill Majors said, "we have to get Edmund Little Bow back here for our meeting at noon."

'Betty' looked at his guest and said, "You won't believe who's also coming, Richard Kullman.

"That can't be! Didn't you hear who the lawyer was in the fire last night? Who said he could come? He shouldn't be at this meeting!"

"Can't be helped, Carol and Barry Adler went to dinner at the Kullmans house yesterday remember and Richard was there. They talked about what's going on. He said he wanted to help. So Barry said sure, so, he's coming."

Bill Majors looked at 'Betty' and slowly shook his head; he knew why and how Richard Kullman got to go to the meeting, he had _extra_ help.

Talk about inviting the fox into the hen house!

"Thanks for the coffee, 'Betty', I have to go home and clean up. Can't have the RCMP looking like last nights hangover. See you at noon for the meeting."

Bill stood up and headed for the door. He had to get to a phone and get Edmund Little Bow here, there had to be confirmation of what he'd seen. And, another problem, how to prevent the 'tame' lawyer from attending so they could figure out what to do with all this new information.

The police car was still where he left it. He got in and pointed it towards Carling, first the office and then home.

He had some explaining to do to his wife; she was always cross when he didn't come home at night and didn't phone.

Things to do tumbled around in his mind and he clenched his teeth and knew he had to figure it all out.

Bill Majors pulled into his parking spot at Carling Detachment Headquarters and noticed all the cars. They were big and expensive; the kind lawyers drove. The knot in his stomach began to clench; he knew who was here.

Leaving his car in his parking space, he made his way to his desk with a meaningful stop in the Men's Room. Loud voices ricocheted off the walls behind the Chief's closed door. This was no time for hesitation. He knew he had to get out of there.

Gathering his papers, he almost made it to the outside door when he heard his name called. With head down and ears not listening, he sprinted for the car. Nothing was going to keep him from finding out the truth of what he saw in the fire last night.
Chapter 51

The Xaali'pp band council minus Chief George was gathered in the meeting room of the Great House. They sat and looked at the shaman in the Chief's chair. Most saw a hero, a leader of men, the one destined to help them rise and throw off the yoke of the white man.

The shaman said they could, and most believed him. Two members looked at the floor. They tried not to look into his eyes. When they did, uneasy feelings crept in and sat in the chair with them. They knew they'd have to give in someday, just not today.

The 'tame' white man sat in a corner of the room and dozed. He had no role to play in this, or any other Council, so he slept. Not the deep sleep of renewal; but an uneasy oblivion that kept him on edge. Something was not right.

Nothing was supposed to bother him. Peace, tranquility and nothingness was promised, but it was gone...

Did something change?

Now?

This minute, he began to know again. There was dread when he listened to his inner voice, trouble it said, trouble in the form of a woman who wouldn't give up. Memory seeped slowly into his heart and he began to dredge up pictures of the past.

He gritted his teeth, and held his breath. NO! He shouted in his heart, I have to forget, they'll die if I let go, it'll be all MY FAULT!

Although he was made to forget who would die, he knew it would be unbearable.

All his fault, all because he couldn't control himself.

* * * *

The shaman was not happy! Events were not happening as planned.

The council listened to what would happen to anyone who disobeyed him.

Although west coast Indians knew the Wendigo was not native to their coast, and that he was the evil creature that feasted on human flesh he lived in eastern Canada. But the appalling apparition came to life through the vivid stories woven by the shaman, and The People were deathly afraid.

The 'tame' white man was also upset; he trembled inside, but for a different reason. He couldn't lie to the shaman and if he knew what he remembered, he would be the first one eaten by the Wendigo.

Running Wolf promised this would be, and everyone knew... he was always right.

Jack touched the unfamiliar medicine bag that hung down his chest under his dirty blue shirt and confidence flowed through him. He didn't know why he found it around his neck in the hospital, but it gave him strength and he hid it carefully under his shirt.

Even though his mind had a long walk back, the medicine bag kept his feet on the right path. Deep-rooted memories started to tip toe in and settled themselves in old familiar places.

Just a moment, thought Jack McKinnon as fear of the Wendigo left him, this can't be right!

Could it be true?

Was the 'tame' white man no longer 'tame'?

He looked around; saw the men sitting around the large table paying rapt attention to the man seated at the head. He looked down and realized he was sitting on the floor... in a corner.

No shoes, he said to himself, I don't have any shoes! What's going on here. Where am I and why am I in a corner? He sat a few moments longer listening to the small man sitting at the head of the table. He didn't understand a thing he heard. None of it made any sense. Who did he think he was? And, why were they all looking at him like he was god?

Jack McKinnon realized he was not in a position to stand up and demand an answer to his questions, so he turned to the wall and pretended to be asleep.

He knew he had to get out of there and get some help. He didn't understand much, but he soon realized they were planning rebellion in the shape of a gaming casino.

The meeting was finally over and everyone left, quiet, calm and orderly. It was as though they planned a tea party, not the overthrow of the Provincial Government. The room was soon empty, no one told him to leave so he sat in his corner trying to figure out where he was and what to do now.

As he sat, his stomach growled, and he realized he hadn't eaten in a long time.

With everyone gone, the lights went out and he was alone. He got up, and almost stumbled, his legs were weak and he was lightheaded, but he made it to the big doors. They opened into a foyer with two closed doors on the far wall, and the entrance to the building on his left.

He knew there had to be a phone in this building somewhere. He needed to find it, and something told him to find it fast. He chose the door closest to the main entrance. The sign posted above it said, ' _Reception_ '.

The door was unlocked and there was a phone on the counter.

Who should he call? His wife? She was probably really mad, and the explanation would take too long. His boss? What kind of excuse could he make? He didn't know how long he hadn't been at work? No, those had to wait, he needed help, so it better be Bill Majors, he'd know what to do.

He dialed Zero for the operator, and she came on and asked him how she could help. When he said he needed the police, she told him to dial 911, if it wasn't available in his area yet, to call back on the zero designation.

Jack looked at the phone; it was busy giving the dial tone.

He dialed 911, the voice said, 'press 1 for fire, press 2 for an ambulance, press 3 for the RCMP Detachment nearest you, and the line went dead.

He pressed three, and the Carling police switchboard lit up, it gave a recorded blurb about the office not being open until 8:00 am, if it was an emergency, hang on, your call would be answered as quickly as possible.

Jack looked at the phone in his hand and wondered what planet he was on?

Then he noticed the calendar on the wall by the office door and saw what day it was, when he looked more closely at the year, he sat down hard in the clerk's chair.

"Hello, hello, this is Officer Miller, can I help you?"

"I need to speak to Sergeant Majors, I need him right now."

"Sergeant Majors is not on duty this evening, Sir, can I have him call you tomorrow?"

"No, tell him it's Jack McKinnon calling, tell him I'm in a big building and I don't know where I am. Tell him..." and there was a clattering and the phone went dead. The young officer looked at the receiver as though it was the phone's fault.

"What a jerk," he said under his breath, and hung up.

A half hour later, Officer Miller's replacement came in, "anything going on I should know about, Jessy?"

"Not really, just same old, same old, but there was one call for Sergeant Majors, I think it was a crank call, he let the phone fall on the floor just to annoy me."

"Did he give a name?"

"Ya, I think it was Jack Mckinnly, or Mckinny or something like that, I wrote it down but he was talking quiet like. I couldn't hear much."

"Are you out of your mind, it had to be Jack McKinnon!"

"Ya, I guess it could've been, what's all the fuss? It was just another drunk."

"You are so deep in shit, you may never crawl out! See if you can remember anything else, and you better call the Sergeant right now."

"What d' ya mean, in deep shit?"

* * * *

"Tell me all that again, Officer Miller, slowly, and don't leave anything out," said Sergeant Majors, trying to hang on to his temper. The phone call came in around 8:00 pm and didn't get delivered to the Sergeant for almost an hour. But it only took Bill Majors 15 minutes to dress and get to the office.

"Well, it was just before 8:00 o'clock and I was going to go for my coffee break, but I answered the call anyway. It was a man, sounded like he was drunk, or maybe sick."

"Never mind what you thought, get on with it."

Both men looked up when the door opened and in walked Detective Inspector Malloy, with the Detachment Chief in tow.

"Gentlemen, I understand we have a lead in the on-going disappearance of Jack McKinnon. Go over it carefully for me, remember, it's not just Jack McKinnon we're interested in, it's that casino at the other end of Andover Lake and the way it's being funded."

Officer Miller was sweating profusely, only on the force six months, and already in over his head!

"The phone call came in before 0800 hours," he said trying for formality, "the caller said his name was Jack McKinly or McIver or something, I could hardly hear him. He said he had to talk to Sergeant Majors and I told him he wasn't on shift and to call back in the morning. He must have dropped the phone, because there was a lot of noise at the other end, and then the call ended."

"And when did you call Sergeant Majors?" said the Detective Inspector.

"Well, not right away exactly, my replacement came in and told me I should call the Sergeant, even if it was past my coffee break. But I was hungry and didn't think 20 minutes would matter but I called him when I got back at 8:45 exactly."

"You went for coffee first?"

"Yes, sir."

The Detachment Chief put his hand to his head and swore silently, he knew he'd be in this god-forsaken-backwater for the rest of his career. Finally, a break in the case and the call was answered by the youngest rookie on the Force.

"Everyone out, not you Detective Inspector, or you Sergeant we need to talk," said the Chief, "do we know where Running Wolf is tonight? I know he's stirring things up again, and I thought with this casino hearing coming up and the change in the law around 'gaming', that maybe he'd make a slip and we'd have him."

"He was at the Great House, there was a meeting of the Chiefs' Council," said the Detachment Chiefs' Aid, "it was supposed to be bookkeeping, and some minor changes in seating arrangements. We usually send a man to observe, not at the meeting of course, but in the parking lot to keep track of who's attending these things."

"You're right," shouted Bill Majors jumping up from his seat, "he's at the Great House he has to go where the shaman goes, so something happened, and he was able to call."

Sergeant Majors grabbed his hat and raced for the door. Stopping abruptly, he turned back and said, "I think I'll need some back-up and fire power. If Jack was able to call, something's going on out there, and I don't want to be caught short!"

"Take who's on shift, and pass out weapons and bullet-proof vests, make sure everyone understands, no shooting unless absolutely necessary!"

Bill Majors gathered his small handful of men, handed out the weapons and vests and made everyone repeat, 'no shooting unless told'. They tumbled into two cruisers and tires squealed as they left the parking lot.

It would be a good half hour before they got to the Great House. Who knew what could have happened by then!

Bill Majors drove like a maniac, no siren though, they didn't want to advertise their arrival, but they were still too late.

The Great House was lit up. You could see people through the windows; they were searching every room, closet, cabinet and nook in the building.

The cruiser pulled into a parking slot and they all got out. Bill Majors walked to the open main doors and stood until one of the searchers came and asked why he was there.

"What's going on here, why all the lights?" said the Mountie.

One of the band members, not wanting to answer, said, "just a moment," and went to get someone else.

Archie J. himself came, "How can I help you, officer?"

"We were just passing by and noticed all the lights, is there a problem here?"

"No, no, we were just giving the place a good cleaning," he lied. In reality, they were looking for the 'tame' white man, his value as a bargaining chip was getting less and less and Archie J. was going to eliminate the problem tonight. Perhaps an accident on the road, or a midnight swim.

He had something better now, in the form of a young lawyer, Richard Kullman, LL.B

When Archie J. realized he wasn't with them, they thought he must still be at the Great House and were looking for him.

"Can we be of any help?" the Sergeant said, "It looks like you're looking for something."

"No, no, we can manage, we're just doing a little house cleaning," he said again, leading the Mountie to the edge of the entryway and almost pushing him off.

Bill Majors walked back to the cruiser, the other men were anxious to hear what he had to say.

"Well, somethings going on that they don't want us to know about. Archie J. said they were cleaning. By the men? Cleaning, my ass! I looked around and there was no cleaning going on. But, I didn't see Jack McKinnon either," said the Sergeant.

"Should we stay here and kind of watch to see if he does show up?" said one of the younger Mounties.

"I don't know, I thought he was in the Great House, and now I'm surer than ever that he's here, somewhere, but I don't know where to look."

Just then, they heard a small tap on the outside rear door of the police cruiser. They turned in unison to see a scruffy, skinny man with no shoes.

Bill Majors ran to him, "Jack, Jack, are you okay? Where have you been? What's going on?"

"Nothing I want to know about Bill, we better get out of here, they're looking for me!"

Police cruisers are big, so a skinny extra man in the back seat didn't much matter. The Sergeant pulled away slowly and carefully, he didn't want those inside the building to notice anything unusual.

When they were about a mile and a half away, Bill Majors stopped. He sat and looked at the steering wheel and tried to think of what to do.

Should he go to the lock-up? Procedure said, take him in and book him first, then figure out what for. Or, should he take him to town and buy him a meal, he certainly looked like he needed one. What he really wanted to do was yell at him for putting everyone through so much grief these past seven years.

But he wasn't going to do that either.

What he really needed to find out was, what was going on, and how did he get away from the shaman, and why was he coherent now? And... most important, would it last?

He put the police car in park and got out. "Jack, you want to take a walk with me and we'll talk for a bit?"

"Sure," he said, "I can't believe it, I saw a calendar back there, is it really 1999? Why can't I remember what's been going on?"

"Jack, why weren't you in the Great House, why are they looking for you. Why call me now? How did you get away from the shaman?"

Bill Majors was almost out of breath and he hadn't even started.

"I'll tell you everything I know, Bill," said the former slave, "but first, I need to know if Rikki and Harry are okay and I want to know who that Indian was that got me out of the Great House. What a big man! He had paint on his face, and carried a bow..."

"Did he have long black hair," interrupted Bill Majors, "did he carry the bow across his back?"

"How did you know?"

"I've met him before."

"How come I can talk to you," said Bill Majors, "when you were in the hospital last week, you wouldn't acknowledge any of us, or any of the staff."

"I wasn't in the hospital last week, I don't know where I was, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't in a hospital. I would remember. Was it the new one in Hope? It only opened a few months ago."

"The hospital in Hope isn't new any more; it's around 8 years old now. You were in Grace Hospital in Burnswood, and you wouldn't talk to anyone. I need to ask you some hard questions.

"Would you mind if we went to my house? Jeanne could make you some soup. I'll use my tape recorder, it's better than written notes. This might take a while."

"Sure, Bill, where else can I go? But you still haven't told me how my wife and son are," said Jack.

"Okay, I'll tell you, Rikki has been looking for you all this time. She never stopped believing you'd come home. But right now, I could use a coffee, how about you?"

"Poor Rikki, she's going to kill me for taking so long."

* * * *

"Yes, I'm sure," said the young Mountie as he stood in a rigid salute. He was so fired up, the excitement made his eyebrows jump. "The Sergeant made me repeat the message so that I would have it straight."

"Yes, Sir, that's what he said... 'Wait'! And he repeated that twice. This is what he wanted me to tell you. 'Please don't come to my house, I have Jack McKinnon with me, he seems rational, but he wants to tell his story to me. I will record it on my tape recorder and bring it in as soon as he's finished'. That's exactly what he said, Sir!"

"Well," fumed Chief Fitzgerald as he turned to look out the window, he didn't like being told what to do by his men, he was the one that should be doing the telling! He shifted in his chair, turned back to his desk and noticed a very red-faced young recruit still standing at rigid attention, still in salute.

"Good grief, man, dismissed!" said the Chief, "go get a coffee, tell everyone they're not allowed to go home until Bill Majors comes in. And No, I don't care if it takes three days!"

The young man saluted again, turned smartly on his heel and left the room.

When the door was shut, the rest of the men crowded around, "what did he say, what did he say?" they all yelled as quietly as they could. No one had to tell them they had to stay at the station, there hadn't been this much excitement since the failed uprising seven years ago.

The young Constables had to look up the 'uprising' in the archived reports that were considered optional reading, but now this was going to be the real thing and they'd be first in.

Some real action!

About time!

* * * *

Sergeant Majors was home listening to a very short explanation of what happened seven years ago.

It was all old news.

Indeed, the anticipated information wasn't there. The awake 'slave' couldn't remember anything past yesterday. He assumed he'd been asleep and when he was told how much time passed, he looked at his hands and shook his head.

How could that be so?

Jack didn't remember anything that happened during the time he was gone. He didn't know there'd been an Indian uprising. He didn't know anything about building a casino next to his property at the head of Andover Lake. He thought he'd been gone a week or so.

But the only thing he was concerned with, was phoning home to talk to his wife and calling his boss at work, to explain why he didn't go in last Monday.

Be calm, said the Mountie to his inner turmoil, when I take him to headquarters all hell will break loose. Jack needs time to remember. More, he needs some help.

Bill started to pat his pockets, looking for the small notebook that held his business phone numbers. He needed the right kind of help for Jack and he knew whom to call.

Jack sat in his chair and looked at the tape recorder, he knew he should know what was happening, he was there. But try as he might, it was just a big blank hole in his memory.

He couldn't believe his job was gone, his son was a teenager, and his wife was declaring him dead.

Bill went into the kitchen to phone the number in his little book. There was only one man who understood and could help.

Did he help already? Would he want to get involved publicly in this mess?

This is all happening too fast, thought Bill Majors as he waited on the phone, too many questions. Why did the shaman lose his hold over Jack? Why did he take a man from Langley city in the first place, why did he need him, why not a member of his own band? Why was Jack able to get to the cafe in Merriweather when Rikki was there? Her presence seemed to draw him. When she was there, he was able to show up, but not strong enough to get away.

He needed answers before noon tomorrow. This was Friday night, and Rikki, Harry and the whole crew were to meet at 'Bettys' cafe at 1:00 pm, Saturday.

Jack sat at the kitchen table eating the best homemade soup he'd ever tasted, and he couldn't get enough fresh bread and butter.

"You better eat more slowly," Jeanne said. "Your stomach won't like so much fresh bread so fast."

As they talked, Jack kept trying to understand; he knew it was only a few days ago that he was up to the cabin. There was no memory of his boat sinking or BG drowning. The memory of the cabin with the upside down two headed 'soul catcher' was gone too.

It was as if _no time_ passed.

While they sat at the table, Jack told Jeanne how he got out of the Great House, "This guy, didn't look like the Indians from around here, but he knew what was going on, got me out of the building and told me where to wait; Bill would be by to pick me up. Where did he come from, he just seemed to appear?"

The Sergeant knew who found Jack McKinnon, but now was not the time to tell.

The call he made to the University of BC contained nothing new for the man on the other end of the line. He acknowledged his part but said he didn't want it talked about, but he'd come.

Bill had to keep a tight hold, first things first; take his charge to Headquarters. He also knew his Chief was going to want answers. Well, there weren't any from this source.

But maybe, just maybe, things were about to change.
Chapter 52

Chief Fitzgerald was waiting in his office; but news had leaked out to the community that something big was on the brink.

There were newspaper reporters, on-lookers and Indians; lots and lots of Indians.

Off duty RCMP also gathered at the back of the building, excitement was building!

* * * *

Chief George was sitting in his truck in the RCMP parking lot when the Sergeant drove in with his charge.

Things had changed in the Xaali'pp band over the past years, and George was Chief in name only. While it was good for a while, no responsibilities, no one coming to him in the middle of the night to complain, all the hunting and fishing whenever he wanted. But his mother wouldn't let up. She kept harping; he was the hereditary chief, and his father before him, and his father, etc. etc. etc.

He finally started paying attention to what was happening, and didn't like it one bit. He was trying to make it right, but it was almost too late.

The young people liked Archie J., as he wanted to be called now, they said whatever he did was right. Chief George knew in his heart, something bad was going to happen. He had to find out what was really going on, and there wasn't much time.

* * * *

Later that night, after Jack ate his fill and drank Jeanne's coffee pot dry, the two men were on their way to Headquarters, he was chatting about events that happened seven years ago, and Bill didn't know how to answer, so he just drove and let him ramble on.

When Jack saw Chief George sitting in his truck, he sat up and the old odd look came over him. He stopped talking and faced the window.

As Bill Majors pulled into his assigned parking space, out of the corner of his eye he saw what was happening to his friend.

Again!

Big bad change in Jack McKinnon!

The Sergeant slammed into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. He tried to look like he wasn't in a hurry, but something was telling him to get out of there, fast!

They drove through town and over to Hwy 97 at the speed limit. When they got to the Esso station, he put his flashers on and turned the police radio off, and they flew down the highway, they had to be somewhere else.

Anywhere else!

Bill Majors realized he was driving on autopilot. When they got to the town of Williams he pulled over and looked at his friend. The man just sat there and although he looked like he was looking out the window, you could see his eyes didn't see a thing.

Bill put his head down on the steering wheel.

This was the end, his career was over.

The Chief would rip a strip off his hide so wide you'd be able to land a jetliner on it. And if he's not dead yet, when Rikki finds out Jack came home, and was okay and he botched it up, she would kill him too, slowly, painfully... "what have I done?" he said to the steering wheel.

He sat for a while, looked each option over and discarded it. In the end decided, better go back to Headquarters and take whatever was coming, because there was no way out of this mess.

He backed the cruiser up, turned around and switched the police radio on again, called in his report and asked for additional time.

A lot of the reporters and onlookers were gone now; it was well after midnight and most thought just another false alarm and went home.

Bill was glad his Chief had enough confidence in him to allow him to follow this line of enquiry. He knew the less pressure on Jack to remember the faster it would happen.

So Bill stalled.

They drove around and passed some time and Bill talked. Jack, still looking out the car window was trying hard to relate to the conversation but couldn't follow the events, so said nothing. It was as though he'd been sleeping, and he seemed to be having trouble waking up.

Morning was coming up, and Bill decided they'd take the highway south and then come back through Lacy and Merriweather. Maybe whatever set Jack off would be gone by then, and he'd be all right.

"Why'd we go to Williams," said Jack turning away from the car window, finally talking about something that just happened. "I thought you said we were going to see your Detachment Chief?"

The Sergeant's head jerked around so fast his hat almost came off his head.

What's this?

"Jack, I thought the shaman got you again, why didn't you say anything?"

"When I saw Chief George sitting in his truck back there at the parking lot, I didn't want anyone to know I'm okay now. I don't want anyone to tell Running Wolf where I am, so I faked it. I'm starting to remember Bill, it was terrible, I'm never going to do that again. I need to stay far, far away from Archie J. and his men."

Jack McKinnon turned to his friend, a worried look on his face, "You won't tell him, will you Bill? I can't do that anymore."

"Don't worry, Jack, I won't let him catch you again, I'm going to take you to meet your 'backup team', how about lunch at 'Bettys' cafe?"
Chapter 53

The town of Merriweather was waking up, everyone went about his early morning business, but kept in touch with Freddy at the grocery store. If there was anything new, he would tell it to everyone he saw.

Bill looked at his passenger and knew he had one more thing to do before he took him into the cafe to meet everyone.

"We're going around back to 'Bettys' flat before we go in. He won't mind if you wash up a bit, you need a lot of soap and water."

Jack looked at himself in the side mirror of the cruiser, and was shocked at what he saw. The man in the mirror wasn't the one he remembered.

It's going to take a lot more than a little soap and water he thought, as he looked at his grimy hands. And, why didn't he have any shoes? This was getting to be a sore point. And worse, his feet, as dirty as they were, weren't cold. That told him he'd been without shoes for a very long time.

Both men got out of the car and approached the apartment door. Bill Majors tried the knob and sure enough, it opened. He turned to his friend and said, "come on in, you remember 'Betty'? This is his place and I know he won't mind. The shower is just inside the bedroom door; go ahead. I'll see if I can find you some clean clothes."

The grimy man looked at the closed bedroom door; a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach started to churn. "Don't think I'll have that shower, Bill, can't do those small spaces anymore."

"I think I have to leave now," he said, opening the outside door and tumbling through it. He was on his feet in a moment and heading towards the lake.

The Mountie stood by the door with his mouth open; now what?

Then he sprinted after the running man.

* * * *

The smell of onions frying and hamburgers cooking made Harry McKinnon's mouth water; everyone was there except Sergeant Majors. We should order now he thought, as he smelled the yummy fresh cut fries bubbling away in the boiling oil.

"Bill said he'd be here, we have to wait," said Barry Adler, "first we eat; then we talk."

It sounded like a good idea, and they all started looking at the menus. They wanted to be ready with their orders when everyone was there. Carol and Rikki were comparing calories. Barry was busy checking out the largest burger offered.

Richard Kullman sat beside Barry Adler, watched the group and thought, this case was going to get him the Porshe 918 Spyder he had his eye on, Archie J. said money would start to roll in now; so much he would never be able to spend it all.

Harry, facing the big outside window was watching the town folk as they went about their business while he waited for the others to make up their minds. He knew what he would have even before he got here. His favorite was Buffalo Burger and fry's, and was surprised 'Betty' made them, especially way up here.

Here comes some action, he thought, look at that guy run.

"That's Sergeant Majors running after him," said Harry, as he jumped up and dashed for the door. He was a Fast Track runner; he'd catch that guy for the Mounties.

Jack McKinnon was not aware Bill Majors was following him.

Bill Majors was not aware Harry McKinnon was following him.

The teenager was the better runner, but he had to watch the road. Finally, he knew where they were headed, the dock at the foot of the lake.

The man in front started to slow down, not enough stamina to maintain the fast pace for long. As he pulled up in front of the Merriweather grocery store door, he stopped, and looked back and let the Mountie catch up. They both bent over, holding their knees, catching their breath with big gulping gasps when the teenager caught up to them.

He wasn't out of breath.

"Hey, Sergeant Bill, I was going to help you catch this guy, but I see you did it yourself," said Harry McKinnon.

Both men turned to face the young teen. One smiled in recognition, and turned to shake hands, the other stood with his mouth open.

"Jack," said Bill Majors, "I'd like to introduce you to this young man, he's here with his mother, Rikki, they're trying to figure out how to find his father. He's been gone for seven years now and she was advised by the Insurance people to have him declared dead.

"But she never gave up waiting.

"Jack McKinnon, meet Harry McKinnon."

Just then, a panting Barry Adler came running up with his wife and Rikki. 'Betty' brought up the rear.

The lawyer stayed at the cafe.

They all stood in a circle and looked at the panting man.

Sergeant Majors was standing behind him, making sure he couldn't bolt away again.

"Mom," said Harry, "meet dad, Sergeant Bill said so." Then he moved beside his mother to catch her when she fainted.

"JACK!" shrieked Rikki, "where have you been, I've been looking all over for you, all these years! Are you all right?"

"Rikki," he said, "I never thought I'd ever see you again. I had to work so hard to forget. He said you'd die if I remembered, but your memory kept coming back. Are you just a figment of my longing, or are you real?"

"Sweetheart, this is as real as it gets," and she grabbed him, and hugged him so hard he could hardly breathe.
Chapter 54

Six months later...

"I'd like to call this meeting to order," 'Betty' said, clinking his spoon on his coffee cup, "I want to thank the Adler's for inviting us into their home, I know Langley is closer to everybody than Merriweather."

Everyone around the table started talking; they all had catching up to do before they ate.

With the new, Sergeants Major Bill Major, leading the conversation they managed to fit everything leading up to this dinner into its right place.

Jack McKinnon was able to speak now that he was no longer under the influence of the renegade shaman.

"I didn't know," he said, "that I was a direct descendant in the Little Bow Clan on my father's side. My dad never told me any of our history, and I never knew my mother while I was growing up. He kept in touch with people from the north end of Andover Lake, but he never took me along when he went to see them. I guess that's why I was able to get the property that was so close to the Ancient Indian Burial Ground.

"While I was 'gone', my dad began to fail, and the doctor recommended a nursing home. I'm sorry I wasn't there. It makes me feel bad that strangers had to look after him. Six months ago when I started to remember, Rikki and I went to the Home to ask my dad if he knew why all this happened to me, he didn't know me anymore, he just kept saying he was sorry."

Jack looked at the table and began turning his coffee cup around and around.

Rikki put her hand on his arm and he continued his story. "I don't know why he felt that way; he was a good and loving father.

"While we were there, the Director of the Home called us into her office and gave me a box. She said a woman came to see my dad a short while ago and said she was my mother. She gave her the box to keep until their son, that's me, came to see his dad.

"Rikki and I sat in the car and looked through it. Everything was in it, my birth certificate, my parent's marriage certificate from a Justice of the Peace in Ferndale Washington, my original BA Certificate from UBC. All sorts of pictures of people I didn't know, but they had names printed on the back, and they turned out to be my relatives. The most important picture was the one of my parents wedding day, they looked very happy. I always wondered who I was, now I know.

"I've met my mother now; she's been to our home several times. She says she's proud of me for surviving everything that happened." Jack harrumphed a few times and cleared his throat.

"My father was a Chief in the 'Little Bow' clan, but he left to come to the city, he always said, education was the key to a better life. I guess he thought the best way for his son to get an education was to leave the reserve. "

Jack swallowed a few times, looked at the caring faces in front of him and continued his story.

"Now I understand, when he went to visit 'friends'; he was visiting my mother and telling her how I was doing. He always told me he was proud of me. I never understood why before. Now I know, when I finished university, I was the first one in all our extended family to do so.

"Sorry for the long winded story, but I thought you should know why all this happened. Archie J. wanted to make a name for himself by creating an Indian Uprising. It didn't work in Quebec, nor did it work in Carling, now he thinks by owning a casino and land in his own name he will finally have prestige in the white man's world.

"What I didn't know until now, is, I'm a direct descendant of the Chief that signed the Treaty that gave that portion of the land at the north end of Andover Lake that is the Ancient Indian Burial Ground today to a white man for a hand full of beads. Archie found out the man died soon after and the land reverted to its' former owner, that is my family. My father is still Chief but when he passes, I'm the next Chief in line.

"Who knew? I'm not sure how that has anything to do with anything. I don't know if Archie J. can own a tribal casino in his own name that's on an Indian Reserve, but he thought he found a loop hole by keeping me, the next chief, as a slave," he said, shaking his head and taking a small drink of the cold coffee.

"The last thing I want to talk about, is the experiences some of you had when you tried to find the cabin I slept in when the storm came up and sank my boat seven years ago. I'm not sure how Running Wolf did what he did, but he is someone you want to stay as far away from as possible. I know I've been talking for a long time, but I want to thank you all personally from the bottom of my heart for looking after Rikki and Harry. My family would never have survived without everyone's help."

He looked up and took Rikki's hand; unshed tears glistened in his eyes.

'Betty' was next. "I don't have much to say, just that I'm glad it's all over now, and we can all get back to a little fishing, and good eating at my place."

Everyone clapped.

Bill Majors clinked his cup and everyone stopped talking, "I wanted you to know, our special guest, the one that gave Jack back his soul, unintentional or not, can't be with us. That person needs to remain anonymous, but sends good wishes."

Barry asked the last question before desert, "Does anybody know anything about the Indian that helped Jack McKinnon out of the Great House, the night that Archie J. decided to kill him?"

A lot of speculation was offered, none of it true.

Carol came in with the desert, and everyone began eating.

The question no one wanted to ask, still hung in the air.

Was the cabin with the pushed in door and the upside down 'soul catcher' real, or was it just imagination working overtime?

Everyone sat and pondered the question except the short rotund professor from UBC seated across the Adler dinning room table. He looked up at Bill Majors and winked.

The small leather medicine bag around his neck shimmered.

# # #

About the Author

My husband and I travelled extensively after we retired. I draw much of the background for my stories from the many places we visited. Sometimes the people we met turn up as well. I write about unusual or unexplained events. I enjoy writing a story that can be, almost true.

_If you like ghostly adventure_ , you may enjoy, " **The Baby Isn't Dead** ".

This story is about an immigrant family that falls from wealth and position around the end of World War I. The Baron and his wife are forced to leave Germany. Due to stubbornness and lack of experience on the husband's part, they sail to Canada among the poorest immigrants on an old ship.

Life in Saskatchewan is hard, and the Baron enjoys blaming his wife and daughters for his lack of status in the community. His youngest child has a baby due to an incestuous relationship with her father and the baby is given to him to take to the Foundling Home.

The baby never arrives.

The father is sent to jail, serves his time and is released. He moves back into the house and ultimately dies. The family homestead lies empty until Elizabeth, the eldest daughter sends her granddaughter Samantha Baker to repair the house and sell it.

Does the old man's ghost haunt the house? What is the connection between Samantha's good friend Kristi and the house? Where is all the money the old man is supposed to have hidden in the house?

You will find this story and others about witches on my Home Page.

