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Authors: Land of Echoes
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the rest of the country.
Dr. Tsosie had driven ahead in his own truck earlier, and Cree had looked forward to her three hours alone with Julieta as
a chance to talk.
Cree gave her a general idea of how PRA conducted an investigation: Ed and his high tech, Joyce and her historical and forensic
detective work, Cree's own brand of psychological analysis and empathic communion. She did her best to make it sound routine,
avoiding the scary stuff.
"Each line of inquiry supports the others. Often, when I'm . . . making contact, my impressions are ambiguous. Most locations
are layered with lingering human experiences from different periods, so it can be hard for me to pin down what's relevant
and what isn't. And it can take me a while to progress from feeling vague moods and auras and sensations to actually seeing
a ghost or living its thoughts and feelings. My goal is to know what motivates the entity, figure out why it's there, what remains unresolved
for it. But sometimes my intuitive experience of its world is not enough. That's where Ed and Joyce's work, and my own interviewing,
comes into play. Having some hard information helps me identify the ghost. Once I know who it is, how it died, and so on,
it's easier for me to determine why it's here—what motivates it and which living person figures in its compulsions. There's
almost invariably a connection of some kind between the ghost and the witnesses or other people in the vicinity of a haunting.
Once we know what that link is, we have a better chance of setting the ghost free."
To her surprise, Julieta didn't voice skepticism about these far-fetched points. But none of it seemed to soothe her, either.
A strange reserve and tension remained between them, and the closer they got to Oak Springs School, the more she seemed to
close off.
Still, when Cree prompted her with questions, Julieta was generally forthcoming.
She'd been born and raised in Santa Fe, an only child. Her mother was of Mexican descent, mostly, while her father's ancestors
were black Irish; both families had been in the area for a long time. Her father had owned a heavy-equipment supply company
that involved big money but always seemed to be overextended and in trouble. They were proud and respected but still very
much striving, proving themselves, and therefore very—overly, Julieta admitted—conscious of symbols of wealth and status.
"I only mention that as an explanation for the stupid things I did when I was younger," Julieta said.
"More stupid than the things everybody does when they're young?"
"Probably."
Julieta explained: When she was fifteen, she began trying out for modeling jobs. She had always been told she was gorgeous,
and ever since she was thirteen, seeing herself mirrored in the eyes of men, she could almost believe it. From modeling, it
was a short step to beauty contests. Her parents were as suckered as she was by the incentives the pageants offered: prizes,
scholarships, a chance to meet the rich and famous, a line in your resume that would help nail lucrative modeling work. At
first it was easy. She won some of the local pageants, did modeling for more prestigious agencies, and then felt confident
enough to compete for the title of Miss New Mexico in 1982. She spent all the money she'd saved on the tailored evening gown
and bathing suit and the deportment coaching everybody said she'd need. Preparing for the contest took almost a year, during
which every hour outside of school was occupied with exercising, fitting clothes, going to the orthodontist, practicing her
smile and posture, pursuing the community service that would perk up her citizenship score. When at last the competition began,
it was a whirlwind that completely carried her away. She entered the last stages utterly self-brainwashed into believing that
this was her destiny, the absolute best and only course for her life. That winning really, really mattered. That win it
Dr. Tsosie had driven ahead in his own truck earlier, and Cree had looked forward to her three hours alone with Julieta as
a chance to talk.
Cree gave her a general idea of how PRA conducted an investigation: Ed and his high tech, Joyce and her historical and forensic
detective work, Cree's own brand of psychological analysis and empathic communion. She did her best to make it sound routine,
avoiding the scary stuff.
"Each line of inquiry supports the others. Often, when I'm . . . making contact, my impressions are ambiguous. Most locations
are layered with lingering human experiences from different periods, so it can be hard for me to pin down what's relevant
and what isn't. And it can take me a while to progress from feeling vague moods and auras and sensations to actually seeing
a ghost or living its thoughts and feelings. My goal is to know what motivates the entity, figure out why it's there, what remains unresolved
for it. But sometimes my intuitive experience of its world is not enough. That's where Ed and Joyce's work, and my own interviewing,
comes into play. Having some hard information helps me identify the ghost. Once I know who it is, how it died, and so on,
it's easier for me to determine why it's here—what motivates it and which living person figures in its compulsions. There's
almost invariably a connection of some kind between the ghost and the witnesses or other people in the vicinity of a haunting.
Once we know what that link is, we have a better chance of setting the ghost free."
To her surprise, Julieta didn't voice skepticism about these far-fetched points. But none of it seemed to soothe her, either.
A strange reserve and tension remained between them, and the closer they got to Oak Springs School, the more she seemed to
close off.
Still, when Cree prompted her with questions, Julieta was generally forthcoming.
She'd been born and raised in Santa Fe, an only child. Her mother was of Mexican descent, mostly, while her father's ancestors
were black Irish; both families had been in the area for a long time. Her father had owned a heavy-equipment supply company
that involved big money but always seemed to be overextended and in trouble. They were proud and respected but still very
much striving, proving themselves, and therefore very—overly, Julieta admitted—conscious of symbols of wealth and status.
"I only mention that as an explanation for the stupid things I did when I was younger," Julieta said.
"More stupid than the things everybody does when they're young?"
"Probably."
Julieta explained: When she was fifteen, she began trying out for modeling jobs. She had always been told she was gorgeous,
and ever since she was thirteen, seeing herself mirrored in the eyes of men, she could almost believe it. From modeling, it
was a short step to beauty contests. Her parents were as suckered as she was by the incentives the pageants offered: prizes,
scholarships, a chance to meet the rich and famous, a line in your resume that would help nail lucrative modeling work. At
first it was easy. She won some of the local pageants, did modeling for more prestigious agencies, and then felt confident
enough to compete for the title of Miss New Mexico in 1982. She spent all the money she'd saved on the tailored evening gown
and bathing suit and the deportment coaching everybody said she'd need. Preparing for the contest took almost a year, during
which every hour outside of school was occupied with exercising, fitting clothes, going to the orthodontist, practicing her
smile and posture, pursuing the community service that would perk up her citizenship score. When at last the competition began,
it was a whirlwind that completely carried her away. She entered the last stages utterly self-brainwashed into believing that
this was her destiny, the absolute best and only course for her life. That winning really, really mattered. That win it
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