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  “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, hea
rd 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.