Zula propped herself up on her elbows, leaned over the table, tried to focus on the map for a while. Then she shook her head. "This is too much information," she said. "It’s not that hard." She flipped one of the photographs over to expose its blank back. Then she swiped the fat carpenter’s pencil that Jones had picked up at Walmart. She slashed a horizontal line across the page. "The border," she said. Then a vertical line crossing the border at right angles. "The Selkirks." Another, parallel to it, farther east. "The Purcells. Between them, Kootenay Lake." She drew a long north-south oval, north of the border. "Highway 3 tries to run parallel to the border, but it has to zig and zag because of obstructions." She drew a wandering line across the Selkirks and the Purcells. In some places it nearly grazed the border, in others it veered considerably to the north. At one such location, south of the big lake, she penciled in a fat X, bestriding the highway. "Elphinstone," she said. "Snowboarders and sushi bars." Because of the highway’s northward bulge, a considerable bight of land was here trapped between it and the U.S. border. Into the middle of it she slashed a line that first headed southwest out of town but then curved around until it was directed southeast: a big C with its northern end anchored at Elphinstone and its southern end trailing off as it approached the United States. Then she sketched in a series of cross-hatches across this arc, cartographic shorthand marking it as a railway line.