Come home Page 8

  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? Le
ave 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.