IJ - Reunion
The source of the comment, a young man with wavy, dark hair stuffed beneath a weathered straw hat, blinks at Kate in surprise as she approaches.
”The...the wagon train, ma’am,” he manages.
A middle aged bearded man who is helping one of the children up in front of a rider on a horse explains, ”Years back, when Lincoln was just starting to grow, when it was still called Las Placitas del Rio Bonito, there was a wagon train that came together here. Bunch of people from the surrounding area, wanting to make it out to California. This was at the beginning of the ghost rock rush.”
“Idea circulated that the group could take a shortcut up Capitan Pass and through the mountains. They tried it and the whole train vanished. All those folks never heard from again. Except one. Weeks later one of the fellas that had hired on as a guard and guide came stumbling out of the trees just north of here. In poor shape, but alive: L.G. Murphy.”
He shakes his head. ”From then on, first Tuesday of every month, long after dark, it rolls in. The wagon train. Or rather, its ghost. I’ve heard its wheels rumbling on the Main Street, but I’ve never poked my head out the window to get a look. Riply Bynum, a town drunk, was out there about a year ago when it came. Plumb lost his damn mind. Ended up scurrying off into the woods. No idea what became of him.”
A young woman in a plaid shirt and jeans chimes in. ”First Tuesday of the month, everyone just stays indoors at night. Even Señor Murphy’s people.”