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.”
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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 c
oming 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.”