Some years ago, when pickup trucks had full length beds as a standard, a girl of 11 went camping with her father to
the American Southwest. They went many places and only explored each of them for one day or less, as her father could
never stand to be in one place for long. He would dive along freeways and highways, her in the passenger seat, and if
something sparked his interest,they would stop. One of the places they would stop was a campground, at the time called
Cathedral Rock
.
This campground covered a large area of flat land, dusty, cracked, and lacking in vegetation save for the occasional
shriveled shrub or bit of stubborn brown grass. There were crude numbered markers for each site, all in rows. The real draw to
this place, however, was that it lay at the bottom of a large, rocky chasm, surrounded on each side by steeply rising, and somewhat
hikeable cliffs of sedimentary stone. At the apex where the cliffs appeared to converge like the sides of an equilateral triange,
stood a large rocky structure slightly off to the right that, with a bit of immagination, resembled a cathedral or a castle.
The girl's dad parked his pickup truck at the small, wooden shack where they could check in, and he and his daughter entered.
The walls were of the same wood that could be seen from the outside, there was a dark wooden desk, which was not at all dusty
despite the rustic look of the shack. The floor was of cement, and behind the desk on the wall hung a large corkboard with some
notices posted along with an array of hanging small keys, each with a circular tag attached. On the desk sat a few brochures of
nearby areas of interest, and behind it sat a heavy man, perhaps in his late 20s to early 30s. He had medium brown skin, short, straight black
hair, and dark brown eyes.
At first, he seemed friendly enough. He gave advice to the father regarding hiking the cliffs, saying that some of it could be
done without specialized equipment. He took the cash for the nightly fee, and then said, You'll need this for the bathrooms.
He reached behind him and took one of the keys from the cork board. He then reached out to the girl, who reached back with an open hand
and put the key in her hand. He leaned in slightly toward her and said quietly, but louder than a whisper, This is the key to my bedroom.
The girl was startled by this and pulled back. The man at the desk chuckled. The girl immediately handed the key to her dad
with eyes imploring him, but he did not take notice of her silent plea. Almost as quickly, her father said to her, Ok, c'mon.
and began to walk out. The girl quickly followed him back to the truck and they drove to the numbered site and parked. On this
extremely brief drive, the girl was thinking about what the man in the shack had said to her, and felt really disturbed. After being
parked for a few seconds, she asked her dad,
Why didn't you say anything when he said that to me?
What did he say?
asked her father.
Nervously and urgently, she replied: This is the key to my bedroom
, when he gave me that key. Why wouldn't you say something
to him for that? It was really weird and creepy!
I didn't hear it.
He looked at the key. "This is just the key to the bathroom building. See? The tag has just has our site number on it.
The girl felt a little angry at her dad, and disappointed in him.
How could you not hear him? You were right there
she replied and sighed. Well, I'm not using that bathroom.
Her dad had begun to get out of the truck. Do what you want. Now, lets go take a look at that rock structure and have some fun, ok?
For the rest of the afternoon, they hiked up as far as they could go along one of the walls of the chasm until they reached a point
where the trail became impossibly thin and it would be dangerous to go on without climbing equipment. They sat there for a while in silence,
and the girl noticed some black beetles that when disturbed, would bury their heads in the sandy dirt. At night, when they had hiked back down to
the truck, her dad told her that it would be easier and faster to just sleep in the truck rather than set up the tent. He slept in the cab,
and she was to sleep in the bed on one of the thin pool rafts they often used in place of air mattresses when camping, under the protection
of the truck's cap. She had a difficult time sleeping because by this time, she needed to pee. However, as she thought about waking her dad to
get the key to the bathrooms, she worried that the man from the shack would be inside and decided against it. She also thought about just
looking around to make sure no one was around and squatting behind one of the tires of the truck, but she realized her view from the
windows of the cap was quite limited and there was no way to really be sure that no one was around, especially if she were to hide behind a tire.
So she decided against that as well. Eventually, the fridgid air of the desert night caused her to sink deeper into her sleeping bag and
the exhaustion of hiking for most of the day got to her, and she fell asleep.
KNOCK-KNOCK...The sound woke the girl suddenly, and she heard her father's voice from inside the cab of the truck.
Time to get up and get moving!
he called. This followed the same routine they had employed throughout the week-long camping trip: he knocked
on the window between the cab and the cap, told her to get up with way too much energy for a person who had just woken up, and then he would leave
the truck to meander so that she could have a little privacy while changing, but not so far away that she would not be able to find him.
She waited a minute for him to get a distance away, changed her clothes, and then pushed open the glass door of the cap.
She first looked up at the sky, still dark and starry with but a faint pinkish glow near the horizon. She was irritated that it was so early;
by the looks of it, it wasn't yet 6am, and since she'd held it for almost an entire day, the urgent need to pee hit her like a brick. The light
was so dim still that only the high spots of the relatively flat terrain were illuminated, and as she looked down to begin climbing over the
tailgate, she saw it. There stood a black dog.
Dad!
she called out while not taking her gaze off the dog's solid white eyes. She felt as if she didn't hold her ground with it
and meet it's stare with assertion, that it might attack her. With no response from her father, she called again, louder: DAD!!
What, what, what?
she heard her father shout distantly from the opposite direction.
There's a dog!
She continued to look into the dog's eyes and was getting more scared due to their shouting not scaring it away. It just stood
like a statue.
So? Get out of the truck!
I CAN'T! There's a dog there!
I'm coming.
he said in a more calm, but slightly aggravated tone.
After a moment the sillouette of her father appeared walking behind the truck. He stopped and stood about 2 feet to the left of the dog.
It's ok, just get out
, he said calmly. She was astonished that despite all this shouting and now with her father standing right next
to this dog, that it was still unmoving, unblinking, and still just staring into her. Yet, she felt a little safer with her dad there and looked at him.
No. Look at it's eyes
, she told him.
Her father looked down at the dog and made a sudden movement at it, while shouting loudly, GO ON! Get!
The dog turned to the right
and trotted off.
Did you see it's eyes?!
she asked. She climbed over the tailgate, looked to the direction the dog ran off to and could no longer
see it. It was just staring into me and it's eyes were solid white.
That dog wasn't right,
he said. Now, can we get going?
The campground in this story no longer exists according to google maps. The closest one is Angel Peak Campground
in New Mexico, USA.
It was just south of the Angel Peak rock structure directly between Navajo land to the west
and Apache land to the east.
