[An outlier.]
NITA: I don’t know what to do besides walk away from it. From all of it. She deserves someone who’s not a . . . flaky weirdo artist with a voice diary. I . . .
[Don’t.]
NITA: I don’t know.
[Don’t make her go alone.]
NITA: I don’t know what to do.
[End of recorded material.]
[Beginning of recorded material.]
VOICE: You have reached seven seven three [garbled]. Please leave your message after the tone.
[3 seconds of silence. Nita—]
[Static.]
NITA: Hey, it’s me. I’m—I don’t like how we ended things last night. I want to . . . I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I’m sorry. Just give me a call.
[End of recorded material.]
[Beginning of recorded material.]
VOICE: You have reached seven seven three [garbled]. Please leave your message after the tone.
NITA: Yeah actually, I do know what I want. I want you. I don’t know what that means in the context of you and this thing about your home and—
[Don’t say her name.]
NITA: —and what happened to you. And I don’t know what you want, or why it’s suddenly really fucking important for you to go to the creepy town that you’ve been avoiding for five years and for me to go with you, but, like. Okay. I don’t know. I wish you would have picked up the phone so I could actually say this to you and not your—
VOICE: If you would like to hear your message, please press—
NITA: God DAMN it.
[End of recorded material.]
[Beginning of recorded material.]
VOICE: December. Second. Two thousand thirteen. Voicemail from phone number seven seven three [garbled].
MADDIE: Hey. It’s me. I . . .
[Static.]
[4 seconds of silence.]
MADDIE: Sorry, there’s something weird going on with this connection. So, like, here’s the point. You’re still invited for Christmas. If you want to go. I want you with me. I don’t want to be alone when—
[Static. Angry, electric buzzing. A high, sweet whistle.]
MADDIE: —pick up. If you call me I’ll pick up.
[. . .]
[End of recorded material.]
[Sorry.]
[Beginning of recorded material.]
[Car engine.]
NITA: Wow, it really is . . .
MADDIE: Creepy? Dark?
NITA: Isolated. I was gonna say isolated, but yeah, those other things too. You really did grow up in the sticks. Jesus, these roads are terrifying.
MADDIE: It’s not the roads you have to worry about.
[. . .]
NITA: What the hell did you just say?
MADDIE: I said you don’t have to worry about the roads.
NITA: That’s . . . That’s not—
MADDIE: Listen to me, okay? You’ll be safe here. You’re a stranger here and that’s the best thing you can be.
NITA: What does that even mean? I thought this was just a family visit!
MADDIE: You know it’s more than that. What you need to know now— [Coughs.]
[Coughing continues.]
MADDIE: [Choking.] Just be prepared, okay? I . . .
NITA: Maddie, what’s wrong? Jesus, Maddie—
[Gravel under the wheels, a clunk as the gear shifts into park. Maddie’s breath is labored, whistling high in her throat.]
NITA: What is this, what’s wrong? Are you having an asthma attack or something?
MADDIE: [Hoarse.] It’s fine. I wish— [Coughs.]
[They are only half a mile from the road where Maddie’s car accident occurred.]
[They are a tiny beacon of light in dark, quiet hills.]
[They don’t feel the gaze of those who are watching.]
NITA: Should I drive? These roads are scary as fuck, but I can drive.
[A door opens. Birdsong and rain. Maddie’s breath smooths out.]
NITA: Here, do you want some water?
[. . .]
NITA: We don’t have to stay at your mom’s house. We can go back to Lyndon, or even Anacortes. Fuck it, we can go back to Seattle if you—
MADDIE: [Hoarse.] No. I’m all right. We’re here now, we might as well . . . Might as well finish the trip.
[End of recorded material.]
[Beginning of recorded material.]
NITA: So. Here I am. Maddie’s mom, Evie, is super-nice. Her house is really pretty, up on the side of a mountain. There’s a creek nearby. Lots of woods and moss, as promised. It’s seriously in the middle of nowhere, though. I’m not sure what I was imagining, but . . . I’d originally thought that I could, like, do some detective work while I was here. This is so embarrassing, and it’s so obvious that I watched way too much TV. But I imagined myself, like, going into town and talking to the old dudes who’d be drinking coffee, and they’d be unfriendly and I’d charm them into telling me how—
[Sharp, squealing burst of static.]
NITA: What the fuck was that?
[. . .]
NITA: Weird.
[Time is running out.]
NITA: But Maddie was right, there’s not really a town here. There is a gas station, which is also the post office and a hardware store. And I guess it’s a movie store too, since they had this, like, bucket of DVDs you could rent for a few dollars each. Maddie said there’s a couple churches too, but they’re like, Children of the Corn meets Deliverance, you could not fucking pay me enough to step foot in one. I didn’t even realize that we’d passed through the town until we hit a dirt road and it got even more woodsy.
[. . .]
NITA: Maddie—
[Nita starts to cough.]
[The sound of the wind. The sound of birds in the trees.]
[End of recorded material.]
[Beginning of recorded material.]
NITA: Okay, the timestamp is uh, 8:03. Morning of December 23rd. I’m, uh, I’m interviewing Evie Lanuza, mother of Maddie. [Clears throat.] Though I’m . . . not sure why?
EVIE: Well, my daughter told me about your project.
NITA: My project? Oh, sh— She did? Okay. Uh. What did she tell you exactly?
EVIE: Just that you were interested in where she’d grown up, this little town, and you know. What happened to her.
NITA: [Laughs.] Yeah, that, uh. That’s basically it, yeah.
EVIE: So what exactly do you want to know, Nita?
NITA: Well. Actually. Before we get started, I was wondering if you had any pictures of [Coughs.] Maddie when she was a kid. Which is probably weird, but I was just, like, thinking that she must have been a really cute—
EVIE: I don’t. I don’t keep pictures.
NITA: . . . Oh. Is there, um, a reason for that?
EVIE: Yes.
[. . .]
EVIE: Did you want more coffee? You look a little . . .
NITA: Sure. That’d be good.
[4 seconds of ambient noise, persistent birdsong and rain, and the sound of coffee being poured into an old, chipped mug.]
NITA: Thanks. So—
EVIE: My husband grew up here, and even though he managed to get away to Port Townsend, he always knew he’d come back, but he put it off as long as he could. This place has a way of sinking its hooks into you.