Socorro

Within a year after Miriam's death, Jack and I had settled into a solid routine. My work kept my mind and our lives afloat but the traveling meant that Jack had to become very self-reliant very early. I did have Lucy, who would stay over when I was out of town but that was more for safety than care. Even at eight years-old, Jack was getting himself up and out for school. In retrospect, it was probably this period of his life that best prepared him for soldiering and why he rose through the ranks swifter than most — to say nothing of the sharply strategic mind his chess playing chiseled.

One morning I received a call from him on my cell. It was the morning after Zozobra and I was scrubbing my hands and quickly packing to leave a motel south of Albuquerque. The phone startled me out of my tasks.

"Uh, hello?" I didn't even look at the number I was so preoccupied.

"Hi Dad." His little voice came over the line putting me instantly at ease.

"Hey buddy. How's it going?"

"Good. At the bus stop. You coming home today?"

"Yes, I'm on my way. I should be there by the time you get home from school. We'll go have some dinner out. Okay?"

"Okay. There's the bus. See you soon, love you."

"I love you, boy." I said catching my disheveled reflection in the motel bathroom mirror.

The ride home was swift, I took every short cut I knew to be sure to be at Jack's bus stop in time and, still smelling of Zozobra, I wanted to wash up before I met him.

About an hour from home there was a news report breaking in, "Officials from Governor Esperanza's office in Santa Fe, New Mexico are reporting that the First Lady, Angelica Esperanza, did not arrive at a scheduled event today and officials have not been able to reach her."

"We have no reason to worry right now..." a young aid of the Governor said over the phone, "...it's only been a few hours so we're hopeful that this public announcement will alert her to call in."

I just saw her, in fact, hundreds of people had seen her last night — someone had to know something. I thought I might call the Governor to offer my assistance but quickly realized that his office was probably abuzz with aides and officials trying to do all they could. I scanned the radio for any new information. Nothing. I couldn't get the image of her in that red dress staring at her new sculpture out of my mind.

In two days I would be driving down to shoot some footage in Socorro and resolved to stop in on the Governor if there was no new news.

The next day I gave Lucy the day off and kept Jack home from school. We spent the day doing everything he loves: Frisbee, X-Box, listening to bands I'd never heard of. And, of course, chess. I made no merciful bad moves in the two out of three matches and held my own until the end.

We spent much of the time doing something we hadn't ever really done before. We talked about his mother. "What do you miss most about her?" I asked when the moment felt firm enough for us to handle it.

"The smell of her hair." He said this without hesitation. Like it's always on the top of his mind. And I knew exactly what he meant. That faint lavender scent that I desperately tried to keep around the house after she was gone. Suddenly his gaze got fixed on the forest across the road.

"Will you promise me something, Dad?"

"What is it?" I said, afraid of the answer.

"Will you promise not to leave me like that?"

My heart fell on the ground in front of me, winded by the pure desire of this child to seem strong for his father but frail enough to ask this question. I paused, as I did when making sure all of his sand castles were rooted in archaeological reality, because I didn't want to promise him something that I could not be sure of myself. Instead, I went for the merciful bad chess move and said, "Yes, Jack. I promise. Just know that whenever we're apart, the whole time we are, I am trying to get back to you and make you safe."

It was the first time we really connected beyond ourselves and I swear the breeze was lavender.

That night, after reading to Jack, I spent hours cleaning out my home studio. It was time to rid myself of all evidence of the past — notes, plans, invoices and lists all went into the fireplace. As they burned I thought of Zozobra and how this was my personal cleansing ritual.

The next morning I let Lucy in at six o'clock before Jack awoke and hit the road toward Socorro, New Mexico south of Albuquerque where I was going to dig and film. Still reflecting on my day with Jack and our conversations about his mom, I never thought to turn on the radio and completely forgot about Angelica going missing.

I arrived at the Socorro site in the early afternoon. Strapped on my tools and video camera and headed out away from the massive S.E.T.I. radio telescope dishes known succinctly as "The Very Large Array" or VLA. It was a great contrast that would not get lost in my segment set up. These broad white dishes scanning the stars for signals from extraterrestrials and my spade digging in the high desert for signs of Puebloans or conquistadors.

I found a great spot with the VLA behind me, held the camera lens up to my face and began, "This is Emit Archer of Unearthed. I'm here in west-central New Mexico near the town of Socorro..." After a few takes I packed away the camera and began to scan the ground for anomalies — symmetrical ridges, right angles, anything that would tell a story of something man-made. This area is known to be rich with melting ruins and other manufactured beauty.