Missing--Gabriel

 

The date was the twentieth of July 1975, the summer after our senior year. School was

out, college awaited us, the rest of our lives ahead of us. A group of friends including myself

decided it was about time we started to explore this amazing world we live in. My best friend at

the time, Steve, was reluctant to go, saying he wanted to stay home and relax before he left for

Virginia in a few weeks for college. Nevertheless, my friends and I were able to peer pressure

him onto this trip. Jeremey, the more adventures of our friends recommend a forest his father

used to take him to as a kid. This forest was in the middle of Arizona by the Navajo Nation.

Jeremey raved about this spot and how he and his father would camp for a few days up there and

fish while they were there, then hike about five to six miles back to the car and go home. Eager

to explore, our small group of five agreed and set off the following weekend.

The date was the twenty-fourth of July 1975. That Thursday we set out on our nearly

five-hour drive from Phoenix up north. Everyone was excited, this was our big trip of the

summer before we’d eventually go our own ways and start our own lives. The car ride felt so

long yet so short when thinking back on it. It was within a blink, and we were there, five straight

hours of driving and we had finally made it. It was around noon when the car came to a complete

stop on this dirt road. We all stared at Jeremy profusely, “are we here?” Melissa asked while

yawning, “This seems to be the spot I remember” said Jeremy. As we all climbed out of the car

eager to finally stretch our legs, we took in the amazing smell of nature of what seemed to be the

poop of some kind of animal also. We grabbed our bags out of the trunk of the car, collected our

belongings and set out for a long five-mile hike as Jeremey claimed, which would take about 2

and a half hours. As our hike began, mile one was a breeze, and we were staying on the trail just

like we had all assumed we would since there was a well-traveled trail we had been following for

the last mile. Though for the middle of summer the sky was covered in clouds and only a little bit

of heat was slipping through. As we continued to walk, the birds sang a beautiful song as the

bushes and trees danced along in the wind. I thought nature couldn’t be anymore beautiful at that

moment in time. As mile two came to the end Jeremy said confidently, “Alright, here is where

the real adventure starts”. He pointed at a fork in the trail, the path forward was overgrown, and

the path below was nothing more than a thin strip of dirt no more than two feet wide covered in

vegetation and debris from leaves blowing off trees. “Do we really have to go through that?”

questioned Margot. “Yes” Jeremy shouted, “It’s the only way to get to the spot”. Reluctantly, we

all agreed to continue forward down this path, following behind Jeremy. As we kept walking into

our last mile as projected by Jeremey, Steve had started to talk to me about his future plans, and

so I did the same, we went on and on about how we wanted to start families and live the good old

American dream. That was one of the most memorable times I had with Steve on that trip. It's a

conversation I'll never forget between the two of us. On what we had thought to be the last mile

of our trip turned out otherwise when Jeremey said, “Hmm…this doesn’t seem right”. I asked

him, “What do you mean this doesn’t seem right”. Jeremey gave an assuring response that he

wasn’t lost, though we hadn’t yet reached the right campground. Though we had been hiking all

day and the majority of our group decided we were done hiking for the day. We set up camp for

our first night next to a small creek under the shade of trees. As the sun began to set, we finished

setting up our tents which would sleep three in one and two in the other. As we sat around the

campfire, talking and eating our dinner, it seemed like the first day was coming to a good end. I

woke up that night at around two o’clock in the morning needing to use the bathroom. I got up as

quietly as I could to not wake anyone. I stumbled to the nearest bush and relieved myself. As I

was staring into the cold morning sky, I heard rustling in the bushes about ten to fifteen feet out.

I was startled, seeing that it was so early in the morning and I could barely see a couple of feet in

front of me. I kept looking in the direction of the bush as I walked backward towards my tent. As

I was walking I heard the sound shift to a bush now right behind our tents. I quickly unzipped the

zipper and jumped inside as if my life depended on it. I sat there in silence for what seemed like

an eternity until I eventually fell asleep once again.

The date was the twenty-fifth of July 1975. We woke up that morning and continued on

the rest of our journey. Day two wasn’t as eventful as day one, though as we packed up our tents

and kicked out what was left of our fire, Steve called out, “Hey come look at this”. We all

hurried over. “Is that blood?” said Melissa with a grossed out voice. “Yea, that’s what it looks

like” replied Jeremy. This bush was in the same direction I heard the rustling just last night,

though I didn’t give much thought into it. We continued forward with our hike until about one

o’clock, when we had finally reached the spot Jeremey remembered with his father about three

miles on top of the five we hiked the previous day. We set up camp once again, then set out for

the small lake that was right next to camp to fish for a potential dinner. Though after hours of

fishing we had only gotten a few bites, though nothing was able to be caught. When heading

back to camp, a fog started to roll in. None of us expected this as it was the middle of summer in

Arizona. Though we ignored it and went back to camp and all hung out around the fire and

enjoyed a couple of drinks. At around midnight, Steve and I were the last to stumble into the tent

to finally fall asleep. Around three twenty-five in the morning, I woke up, and I had the feeling

something was watching me. I woke up Steve sleeping to my left, though he ignored me and

went back to sleep. Being the naive person I was, I got out of the tent with a flashlight and

decided to check out what it was. As I stepped out of the tent I couldn’t see even three feet in

front of me. The fog was so heavy I was stumbling around still a little drunk from what I had

drank only a few hours ago. I once again heard the rustling in the bush, though this time it

sounded bigger and closer. I instantly ran back into the tent and woke Steve and Jeremy. Once

they had both fully woken up, they too heard the sound. As we were about to get up and out of

the tent to investigate the sound and scare the animal, the rustling stopped. It was eerily quiet like

something was bound to go wrong. Then, within an instant, the sounds of children laughing all

around our tent and banging on all sides. Our screaming woke up both Melissa and Margot in the

other tent. They came out and opened the tent and looked at us like we were crazy. “ What are

you all screaming about?!” exclaimed Melissa “There is something here with us, and it’s not any

animals I’ve ever heard”, I replied. Jeremy, in shock, didn’t know what to say but that we needed

to leave. We attempted to pack up all that we could into our backpacks as fast as we could.

“Okay, who made the ring of rocks?” said Steve. Out of thin air, a ring of rock all in a perfect

circle surrounded our camp. A loud blood-curdling scream came from behind our camp which

sent us all running. Towards the trail we walked here on. As I was running in pitch black, Steve

was alongside me. We ran until we had run out of breath. When resting against a tree looking in

the direction we ran from, we could hear nothing but screams from our friends coming from the

direction of the camp. Steve and I continued forward towards the car hoping that we’d eventually

run into someone. I grabbed a flashlight out of my bag and while doing this I learned that Steve

grabbed the keys for the car just before we were about to get out of the tent. We continued back

on this thin trail, walking as fast as we could and running at points when we recovered any

amount of breath. About an hour into our hike back, we came across the original fork where we

first turned onto the overgrown path. We both seemed like we knew the way, so we continued

walking. Though after some time of walking, we stopped as we had hit that same fork in the

road. “We were just here Steve”, I said, “WHAT IS GOING ON”, Steve replied. As we tried to

make sense of the situation, what sounded like the voice of Jeremey calling out for help was

coming from about a couple of hundred feet behind us. Steve handed me the keys and ran toward

the voice. I told him not to go, though it was too late. Steve disappeared into the darkness. I

waited for what felt like forever when I eventually made the decision to continue forward.

The date was the twenty-sixth of July 1975. It was about seven thirty in the morning

when I had finally reached the car. I was alone, no one was there with me. I opened the car door

and sat inside, remembering what we had all talked about in the car before leaving for the trip.

They all had such bright futures ahead of them and, just like that, it’s all gone. At that moment I

remembered what Steve said to me when we had just gotten on the trial, “You know Gabe, I’m

glad you all forced me to go on this trip. I’m going to miss you the most, I think, when I go off to

Virginia, but when I’m on break you’ll be the first person I want to come to visit and tell you all

about Virginia”.