Rob’s Notes, 24 OCT 1986.
Wasn’t the girl? Mother caused a scene, told her step aside, give me her name, name: Corrine Green, worried, sincere … girl showed when younger man name: Carlos Almada, teenaged, brought daughter Virginia to scene. Mother and daughter wept: hold onto each other, could’ve been you. Ask them about local area– pretty quiet, few strange people, Adam, Serena, Bradley, house on the corner with overgrown lawn, at night driving home with windows down, the overfamiliar sound of howling.
Girl is Jane Doe (for now?). Local P.D + F.B.I. not allowed to meddle in Native American Affairs, girl believed to be from nearby reservation, few girls gone missing over the past 6 months, marks on face hidden underneath red dress
We’re F.B.I., but we can meddle…
Jane Doe had object in right ear:
* small, red glass bead.
* inserted post-mortem into vagina, western diamondback rattle.
where was she?
- few girls visit “spiritual retreat”: source, Carlos, seen up by flock of trailers (weirdoes?) out past Cedar Mountain, drugs?
- strangers on the Turquoise Trail, tourist time.
- local sex offenders, one in jail at presumed time of murder, other at work.
- face hardly recognizable; mortician repaired, make-up, good pictures to ask around, thank Halley with coffee. no sexual assault; no sign of struggle; ‘animal’ tore face apart.
(not the animal they think).
Find out her name, she deserves a name—cursed, have to do all work tonight. Full moon tomorrow.
At night, nothing in the roads but travelers to or from destinations, mostly Colorado and Texas plates. I sit and watch to get a sense of the land; to get an idea of what could be behind the curtains.
Nothing out there, that’s what makes it beautiful. If there were more of anything, more people, more clutter, it would spoil everything with noise, lights, garbage, emotional pollution—the outer land would show the insides of the minds that filled it. Man builds his empire with his mind, but from his heart. And you can see inside the true hearts of men by looking at their cities, you can know the man who built it, the man who lives there, by knowing what kind of place a man loves and stays in: this place is open, quiet, the mind fills with thoughts the way the mouth fills with saliva. You become a passenger.
The people have a sense of waiting; waiting for what?
I arrive in time for a ceremony at the (cult?) retreat. Cedar Mountain.
Tall, slender man, dingy long hair, never stops grinning, caucasian. Don’t like the look of him. Women in all white, four of them, flowers in their hair, small children holding hands, two toddlers, one infant in a woman’s arms. Questions to ask:
Have you ever seen this girl?
She ever come out here for one of your ceremonies?
Ask all present, even children.
TO BE CONTINUED…
[ ‘Girls That Vanish At Night: New Mexico, 1986′ is the continuation of a short horror series told episodically by Samantha Lucero. To catch up on series 1, go here. ]