Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

Miriam Arrives Unannounced

An elderly white Subaru pulled into the yard the next morning. Clara ran out before it came to a halt. Miriam came outside slowly, her face fatigued and her hands quivering as she lit a cigarette. She began to speak too quickly. She said she didn't call because she didn't know what to say. But she couldn't stay away.

She put out maps, papers ripped out of old journals, and printouts of oral narratives from desert settlements. "What you're going through isn't random. She pointed to a noted spot near Windermere Ridge and said, "It's part of something older than these maps and their stories." She said that the land remembers. And sometimes it wants us to do the same.

The Map Beneath the Dust

Miriam put the oldest map on the kitchen table. It was drawn by hand, with ragged edges and faded charcoal marks in a language Clara couldn't read. Miriam drew a circle around a symbol that was carved near Windermere Ridge. She answered, "This is a place to meet." "But not for people." She flipped through her notes. There seemed to be stories of kids being taken, then brought back unharmed but "changed." Clara gulped hard. "How did it change?"Miriam looked at Elsie, who was sitting on the floor and talking to her stuffed animal in a low voice. She claimed they start to see things that aren't there and hear things that aren't taught. She put the map away. "Elsie might not be done yet."