by Ju� Eron

It was a day in mid-December about six years ago . We left early in the darkness of morning from our house on Terlingua Ranch for our every-other-week trip to Alpine . We were always determined to have enough time to get everything done and still get home before dark . It ’ s 82 miles one way and takes about an hour and three quarters . As usual , the Border Patrol just waved us through , recognizing our vehicle .

We had our typical list of errands and thorough lists for shopping : hardware store for supplies , bank , post office to mail holiday packages , library , gas station to fuel our car and fill gas containers for our generator . A break for lunch at La Casita for enchiladas and tacos , and then lastly , groceries . The day passed quickly , and we headed home .

Tired but glad to be done , there was still plenty of daylight as we traversed the last five miles of dirt road to our house . We pulled up under the carport and carried our little dog Gracie and a couple of bags through the kitchen door .

I stopped as I crossed the threshold . “ Charlie , did we leave these cabinets open when we left this morning ?” I asked . Two of the bottom cabinets in our kitchen were standing open .

“ I don ’ t remember but I don ’ t think so . Hmm ...”

That started us looking around . Other than the cabinet doors being open , nothing initially looked disturbed . But I could see that some food was missing from the cabinets — cereal and crackers were the most obvious . In the back hall where our clothes and shoes are kept , my hiking boots were gone , as were Charlie ’ s work boots . And our daypacks .

I was bummed . They were nice hiking boots I ’ d just gotten a few weeks back at the thrift store . Almost 23 years living out here and no one had ever broken in or taken anything . We had always known we were vulnerable , living so far from anyone else . But it had never happened . It felt weird and a little creepy .

I got worried about our musical instruments , so I went through the cases . They were all there . And our computer was okay . Of course , I was glad about that ; but I was feeling miffed at having to check everything and that someone had been in our house going through things .

As we were continuing to look around , Charlie called to me from the patio . “ Come here and look at this , Judy .” He was holding a strange plastic bottle wrapped in old torn canvas with a crude carrying strap made from twine . “ I bet it was some Mexican people crossing the desert and