An Anticlimactic Tale of a Real Thing That Happened
We were looking for a plot of land that we found on the internet marked For Sale.
The map led us down miles of desolate gravel roads off a highway in the middle of Nevada.
After fifteen minutes or so of driving West(ish), we could finally make out a cluster of trees in the distance, indicating signs of life beyond lizards and cacti.
The first set of structures looked abandoned years ago. Half a mile ahead, we could see some corraled horses and reassured ourselves that people did actually live out here.
The map indicated the lot we were looking for was just beyond the corraled horses, but it also said we’d need to park and walk .2 miles to the destination.
Thank goodness our phones still had service. Thank goodness we had thrown some water jugs in the back.
As we drove past the horses, we heard someone shouting. Ken slowed the truck, I rolled my window down and spotted a woman waving her arms at us and shouting, run-walking toward us.
I commented, “Uht-oh! We must be trespassing.”
Trees surrounded the residence, it was hard to make out exactly what was happening, but she emerged from the trees after a few seconds.
She was a bit weathered, maybe in her mid-40s or early 50s. She was covered in dust, wearing jeans and cowboy boots — something you’d expect from someone who owns horses in the middle of the NV desert.
I couldn’t hear what she was saying until she got close.
She was explaining with teary eyes that she needed help hooking her trailer up to her truck. They were supposed to go pick up hay to feed the horses, but she was having a problem with the trailer. She asked if we could help.
This was one of those moments where a lot of things flash through your mind. Movies like The Hills Have Eyes or The Devil’s Rejects come to mind. News stories where couples go missing and are never seen or heard from again come to mind. Was it a trap?
Compassion also comes to mind.
Ken and I gave each other a glance of “we might die, or we might be able to help…