Kate’s old Ford pickup spun gravel to the side of the road as she rounded another curve. On the left was a large lake, beautiful sapphire blue, and the spring breeze rippled the water with glints of diamonds. She pulled over and jumped out of her truck to stretch her tight shoulders after hours of driving west into the Chilcotin. 

A few houses and a ramshackle building with faded grocery advertisements in the window sat back on the other side of the road. Kate checked herself in the outside mirror of her truck and brushed loose strands of blond hair behind her ears. She vowed she’d find somewhere to wash up properly that day. As she stepped inside the store, a small bell tinkled. 

“Welcome stranger,” said a shaggy, dark-haired man behind the cluttered counter. “What can we do for ya?” 

“I wanted to make sure I’m still on Highway 20,” Kate said, with a friendly smile. Her eyes squinted as she looked around, adjusting to the dark interior. Rows of canned food and boxes of dry cereal filled up the small room. An old refrigerator with rusty hinges sat in one corner with a dirty trash can to one side. 

“Well, little lady, this is the right road, but you’re only at Nimpo Lake. In another eighteen clicks, you’ll come to Anahim Lake. It’ll take a few more hours to get down off the plateau, and then you’ll be in Bella Coola, running right into that big blue ocean if you want.” He rocked on his heels with self-importance. A large black cat rubbed his leg and meowed softly at his feet, and he picked it up for a cuddle. 

“That’s Nympho Lake out there?” Her head tilted that way when she asked for clarification. 

“Nah! Not as in nymphomaniac. It’s called Nimpo Lake.” He laughed, looking her up and down as he pronounced it correctly. Something about him made Kate’s skin crawl, especially when he stroked the cat’s head around its neck. 

Kate moved away and studied the canned goods on the shelves. “What do people do who live around here?” she asked, making small talk. 

“They’re ranchers or they own fishing resorts. The Ulkatcho Native Reserve is up in Anahim Lake. That’s the biggest community in the area.” 

Kate grabbed a loaf of Bimbo bread and a can of tuna to make sandwiches wherever she ended up that night. She noticed a box on the floor with two other cats, a striped, gray one and an orange tabby. “You sure own a lot of cats.” 

“If you live out here, you have felines to take care of the mice problem. But these aren’t mine. I’m caretaking the store for a friend who went to town for a week. Me and my woman, we got a little place a few miles north of here with half a dozen cats of our own.” 

“But why do you need so many of them?” she asked. 

“For the fur,” he said. 

Kate flinched. Bizarre visions of cat farming danced in her head. Maybe she misunderstood him again. “What do you mean, the fur?” Jane Catherine Rozek Purity Found 

8 

“Well, living out in the bush, you don’t want to waste anything. So, when one of ‘em dies, we skin ‘em out and tan the pelt so we can add it to the fur quilt my wife is making. It’s already big enough to warm our feet in the winter at the end of our bed.” 

“But…” Kate sputtered, her nose crinkling. “That’s horrible. And cruel.” She couldn’t help but object. 

“You know actually, cats don’t have nine lives, and they’re always having kittens. We love ‘em all and remember each one by the color of its coat.” 

Kate pursed her lips as she quickly paid for the can of tuna and the bread. Did they pet the softness of each quilt square, remembering the cats’ names before they fell asleep every night? 

He continued to study her behind the counter. “You plan on staying around this neck of the woods for a while?” he asked. 

“I don’t think so,” she mumbled, as she turned to leave the darkness of the store. 

“Well, hope to see ya again sometime,” he hollered after her. 

Not if I can help it, she thought. What strange part of the world have I landed in now? 

… 

After climbing back into the cab of her pickup, Kate gazed out over Nimpo Lake and spotted a man standing up in a small boat struggling to reel in a fish. Memories of fishing with her dad tugged the corners of her mouth upward. Three days traveling north into Canada had put her a long way from her home in Oregon. It was 1973, and she just crossed the border with her landed immigrant papers. Something metaphysical had called her north and she was determined to find out what it was. She wanted this solo vacation before settling down with a real job somewhere, a place different enough to forget her troubled past… and time to figure out her future. 

She looked at her map. Anahim Lake was the next town, as the storekeeper had said, but the dots on the map were tiny. They sure weren’t big enough to be towns. Maybe villages? Or hamlets? She’d have to learn the Canadian lingo now that she was going to live up here in the north. 

Kate adjusted her long braid of blonde hair, squared her shoulders against the back of the seat, and continued driving along the dusty road. The glimmering lake disappeared behind her, and the dark green forest wrapped her up once more in solitude. When she came to a rustic sign with an arrow pointing to Anahim Lake, she turned right and passed a few run-down houses along the side of the road. Across a field, a horseback rider trotted toward a set of corrals in the distance, but the main road made a left angle. Driving a bit farther, she came to more buildings, and she noticed a tavern off to one side. No, they call them pubs up here, she reminded herself. 

The Trading Post, another general store she guessed, stood across from it with faded wooden siding and a dirty rubber mat at the door. Small homes in the distance had to be the Native Reserve the cat-man had mentioned. Kate looked for the lake but only encountered more houses until she noticed a shop building with one gas pump outside. Thank God for that because her gas tank was nearly empty. 

“Would you fill it up, please?” she asked the young man who came out to pump the gas. He was attractive, with straight black hair pulled behind his ears. He gave no greeting to her at all, although at twenty-two, she was about his age. She wondered if her pale blondeness unsettled him. “Can you tell me where the town of Anahim is?” 

“You’re in it.” He gave a stoic nod. 

“But aren’t there more businesses?” 

“This is about all there is.” 9 

Kate frowned. “How do I get to Bella Coola, then?” While she was exploring the area, she longed to see the rugged coast of central BC. 

“If you turn right at the next stop sign, you’ll be on the main road again. Kind of late to go down the switchbacks in the dark, though,” he said. 

“Switchbacks?” Kate didn’t know what that meant until he made the sign of a snake in the air with his index figure. 

“Oh. I guess I should stop here for the night, then.” She didn’t have the stamina to deal with hairpin curves that day. “Is there a hotel around?” 

The man finished filling her tank and took her cash. He checked out the canopy on the back of her pickup before he answered. “The rodeo grounds have campsites. Maybe you stay there?” 

“Thanks,” Kat nodded, and gave him a shy grin. She had noticed the corrals on the open grassland earlier and figured that must be the rodeo grounds. Backtracking, she found the camping area set back in the trees. At an empty campsite, she parked her truck near an old picnic table scarred up with initials. Rotten garbage lay in the fire pit. Other campers close by were laughing and talking loudly in slurred words, but she’d been sleeping in strange places for a few nights now, and this campsite would have to do. 

Kate decided not to scavenge for wood to light a fire, but she made a quick tuna sandwich for supper at the table. Then she washed up, rolled out her foam and sleeping bag inside the truck canopy and opened a book. When it got dark, she kept a large metal flashlight beside her for comfort but once again, Kate wished she had a dog for company. She curled up alone and tried to sleep despite the sounds of her party-happy neighbors. 

Should I hang around this backwoods community tomorrow or go down the switchbacks to see Bella Coola and the ocean? She would make the decision in the morning. 

In the middle of the night, Kate jerked awake to eerie sounds. She held her breath to listen, but only the hoot of an owl came from deep in the woods. 

“Who, whooo… who, who.” 

Who are you? The owl seemed to ask. Kate hadn’t yet found the answer to that question. 

… 

A brilliant blue Whiskey Jack just outside her canopy woke her in the morning with its squawking. Fresh, brisk air that almost tasted like menthol, seeped into her makeshift camper. Once she was dressed and outside, she discovered the aroma came from the new tender tips of jack pine needles. Kate loved the beauty of the Chilcotin country–God’s Country,’ she remembered it being called, nature in the raw. She and a boyfriend had backpacked east of there a few years ago in the Kleena Kleene valley where she had seen a female cougar in a meadow and been so impressed with her confident swagger. Now, listening to the birds sing outside, she decided she would stay here for a while. The place was interesting, and if she was going to run away from the real world, this seemed like a good place to do it. 

Kate climbed behind the wheel of her pickup again and drove the square perimeter of the community. Then she sidetracked down the dirt road into the Ulkatcho Native Reserve and spotted a quaint wooden Catholic church among the small clapboard homes. She also found a school and a restaurant she hadn’t noticed before. 

The Trading Post seemed the logical place to get information, and she parked her pickup outside. A hand-painted sign in the grimy window said, ‘Groceries, Laundry and Necessary Supplies,’ but in small print underneath were the words, ‘If we don’t have it, you don’t need it.’ Jane Catherine Rozek Purity Found 

10 

Kate grinned at that. She noticed the wooden hitching post in the front of the store and figured it must be for the ranchers to tie up their horses. Wow, I’m right smack in the middle of a history book. I just time-traveled back into the Wild West a hundred years ago. 

This general store was bigger with all kinds of odd paraphernalia hanging on the walls. Small stuffed animals perched on wooden branches, colorful beaded Native moccasins were tied to spikes, huge moose horns stretched more than a meter wide on one wall, and square metal traps dangled from the rafters. In the rear of the store, a large barrel stove sat with a few wooden chairs around it, waiting for people to sit down and visit. A wide archway opened into a side room that held a couple of washers and dryers, and there was an enclosed shower stall that only cost a quarter, or so the sign said. Kate figured that would come in handy. Around the corner was an old-fashioned black telephone hanging on the wall, one that you had to even crank up to operate. Kate skirted the grocery aisles, picked out a few items, and then chatted with the woman at the cash register. 

“Is the telephone on the wall for public use?” Kate asked. 

“Yes, I’ll warn you, though, it’s a party line, and some of our nosey neighbors often listen in.” She shrugged and smiled apologetically. 

“But there are no numbers on it.” 

The woman’s warm eyes crinkled. “It’s a bit of a rigmarole. First you crank it up to ring Maggie, the local operator, and she’ll patch your call through. Maggie will give you the time and charges afterward, and you can pay me at the counter here when you’re done. “ 

“I might use it later on, then.” Kate gave her a bright smile. “How many people live in this area?” 

“About three or four hundred, mostly the Natives on the reserve, then the ranchers and resort people. We’ve even got a few draft-dodgers from the States who came up protesting the Vietnam War.” 

Kate could relate to that. “Some of the guys in my high school were drafted. My brother-in-law and my sister headed north and moved to Kamloops before his draft number was called, too,” Kate said. 

“Everybody around here owns guns and hunts for meat but being sent over to some foreign country to kill people–that’s really barbaric!” She brushed some dust from off the counter. 

“I feel the same way. It’s partly why I left the States and immigrated to Canada.” 

“Well, welcome to Anahim, girl! You can call me Candy.” She tilted her head and smiled but didn’t explain her nickname. 

Kate introduced herself and asked, “Do you have a Post Office here? I thought I saw a sign on the door.” 

“The mail comes in once a week, but you can drop letters off anytime,” Candy said. 

“Why is your community called Anahim Lake?” Kate was curious. “Anaheim is a city in California. And I don’t see any lake.” 

“It’s close by and named after a Chief of the Tsilhqot Nation.” 

“Okay. Hey, would you know of a place I could rent for a few weeks?” 

“The pub across the street has rooms upstairs. Are you alone?” The woman eyed Kate’s slim figure, taking in her T-shirt, faded jeans and Mexican silver earrings. 

“Yeah. I’m touring around this summer before I find a permanent job somewhere.” Kate considered Candy’s suggestion. She might meet friends over a few drinks in the pub, maybe even a good-looking cowboy. No, I’ve been there, done that before. No casual sex for me anymore. Kate shook her head. “Could you recommend any other place?” 11 

“Did you see the resort signs back toward Nimpo Lake? It’s early for the tourist season, but the Richards own the first resort you’ll come to, and they’re nice people.” 

“Thanks. I’ll check it out,” Kate paid for her groceries and gave a friendly wave goodbye. 

… 

At the end of a long dirt driveway stood a well-kept, two-story log home at the edge of Nimpo Lake. Guest cabins with green tin roofs were nestled along the lakeshore, maybe four or five of them, blending into the landscape as if they’d grown there. Two border collies yapped with excitement when Kate climbed out of her truck. She went up the front steps to a wide deck surrounded by perfectly notched log walls, all shiny from rich brown shellac. She knocked on the front door. 

“Hello there.” A woman greeted her, giving her a quizzical look while she dried her hands on her apron. “Welcome to Nimpo Lake Resort.” 

“Hi, I’m looking for a place to rent for a few weeks, maybe even a month or so,” Kate explained. 

“Well, we’re not quite open for the tourist season yet,” the resort owner said with a pleasant smile. “But let me get a jacket on, and I’ll show you the cabins we have for long-term guests.” 

The woman’s name was Sara, and she chatted with Kate as she showed her around the place. On the shoreline were four fishing boats tied to the dock and a nearby shack had running water to clean the fish you caught. An older one-room log cabin stood by itself on higher ground overlooking the water. 

“This one I can rent to you,” Sara said, “and you can still see the lake through the trees from the window.” 

Inside, Kate found a wood cookstove, a heavy wooden table with chairs, and a double bed. There was electricity, but only when they ran the generator at night, so a kerosene lamp sat on the bedside table. Water had to be hand-pumped at the sink, and she would have to use an outhouse toilet, but Sara had already shown her the small laundry house with hot showers for the guests. There would be no phone, no television, probably not even a radio station. Kate stood still, considering what an adventure it might be. 

“If you want to help, get the guest cabins ready for the summer tourists with me, we could reduce the rent for you,” Sara said. “We could work together in the mornings, and you’d still have the afternoons off.” 

“That’s a nice offer.” The hot showers had already sold Kate, and she didn’t mind some part-time work, so she rented the cabin on the spot. 

After paying Sara, Kate brought in her meager belongings from the truck, and turned the cabin into a rustic tiny home. 

Then she strolled down to the lake and sat on the grass. The surface of the water mirrored her surroundings, clouds and forest shimmered with vibrant energy. Flat green leaves of the Aspen trees made a rustling sound in the light wind, as though an electromagnetic force flowed straight up from their roots to the top of the trees. She too, would put down her roots here for a while. 

It was almost like Spirit was talking to her again through the beauty of nature. She’d had a wild and meaningless life, until at the most exquisite times, Spirit had spoken to her in soft but clear words radiating from inside her conscience and leading her north. Now it was as though this place had waited for her to arrive. 

But for what? Kate didn’t know.