Shownotes
Goodbye has been a Route 66 town plagued by supernatural events. Here to catalog them is Bram Heathcliff of the Paranormal Hunters Society.
Tonight’s story is the first of two parts of “Goodbye, New Mexico” by Domus Vocis, who spends his free time listening to vaporwave music & celebrating Halloween with an ongoing Monster Smut Month, on his Patreon, where you can also find other stories such as his ongoing furry dystopian story series, “Maverick Hotel.”
Read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitchhiker.
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/goodbye-new-mexico-by-domus-vocis-part-1-of-2
Transcripts
You’re listening to the Ghost of Dog on The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,
Speaker:and Tonight’s story
Speaker:is the first of two parts of
Speaker:“Goodbye, New Mexico”
Speaker:by Domus Vocis,
Speaker:who spends his free time listening to vaporwave music
Speaker:& celebrating Halloween with an ongoing
Speaker:Monster Smut Month, on his Patreon, where you can also find other stories such as his ongoing furry dystopian story series,
Speaker:“Maverick Hotel.” In this corner, Bram Heathcliff, paranormal investigator. Armed with knowledge of the familiar patterns: the Wild Hunt, the Ghost Town, the night immediately preceding all saint’s day. And in this corner,
Speaker:the town of Goodbye. Faded, admittedly, from its glory days, but perhaps all the
Speaker:more dangerous for it.
Speaker:For one night only,
Speaker:as far as Bram knows, he and his team
Speaker:will face off against the unknown
Speaker:that calls itself- “Goodbye, New Mexico) by Domus Vocis, Part 1
Speaker:of 2 Goodbye, New Mexico was like a body,
Speaker:threadbare and skeletal
Speaker:and bisected by Route 66:
Speaker:its north contained the upper half, the lungs, liver, and the brain
Speaker:—everything vital that keeps a body going, otherwise known as the town hall,
Speaker:the lone open grocery store,
Speaker:and a couple of struggling businesses
Speaker:amid a seat of shuttered shops on Main Street.
Speaker:Winding south, there would be dozens of abandoned suburban homes,
Speaker:reminders of a bustling city’s past so far in the rearview mirror of history
Speaker:that it was almost impossible to imagine as being a reality. Luckily,
Speaker:one of these hundred or so remaining residents operated an old motel for us to stay in.
Speaker:If I needed to continue the skeleton analogy,
Speaker:the single-story, L-shaped business called the Desert Star Motel
Speaker:was somewhere south of the beltline,
Speaker:but nowhere near the crotch area
Speaker:—a tiny patch of gravel road with no houses or structures along it.
Speaker:Not completely roadside,
Speaker:but close enough to still see the famous route.
Speaker:The structure embraced the vintage aesthetic
Speaker:of a bygone era, a time when gasoline costs stayed in the double-digits,
Speaker:a full three-course meal could be had for less than four bucks, and gin-soaked jazz vied for dominance on the culture with the upstart rock ‘n roll.
Speaker:The Desert Star Motel completed this blast from the past with a neon display sign
Speaker:along the road topped by a Route 66 icon.
Speaker:But if the aesthetics of time had stopped, its ravages had not.
Speaker:Like the rest of the pastel colors and curved arches in the architecture, it needed a fresh coat of paint,
Speaker:but refused to give up its chipping, rusting history. “Finally!”
Speaker:I started stretching my limbs after escaping from the passenger seat.
Speaker:It felt great to touch good old terracotta again,
Speaker:but any elation I felt from this freedom was short-lived.
Speaker:One thing about a jackrabbit is that our senses are attuned to
Speaker:everything going on around us,
Speaker:and the moment I got out of the van, my ears perked
Speaker:up into the sky
Speaker:like an antenna, twitching with the dry wind swirling all about us.
Speaker:“C’mon, gang, we better check in before the storm comes!” A
Speaker:Mexican wolf dressed in torn jeans and a t-shirt advertising his family’s gas station,
Speaker:a mountain lioness wearing an unzipped hoodie, and a conservatively dressed squirrel in bespeckled glasses,
Speaker:stepped out of the used van.
Speaker:They didn’t answer until I cleared my throat.
Speaker:Respectively, Dean and Laurie feigned the enjoyment in their voices, while Samantha giggled as she started pulling out everyone’s luggage from the back. Plus, our equipment. “C’mon,
Speaker:where’s the enthusiasm?”
Speaker:I asked again while looking out on the dark horizon behind us,
Speaker:towards the Arizonan border. “We’re
Speaker:finally here! You should be excited like me!” “So
Speaker:says the guy who didn’t volunteer to drive,”
Speaker:Laurie grumbled as she too surveyed the dark clouds coming our way. “Not
Speaker:all of us can survive on four hours of sleep and three energy drinks, Bram,”
Speaker:Dean yawned with an outstretched arm,
Speaker:the tall canine muttering something in Spanish before saying in English,
Speaker:“I’ll be excited when we actually go into town.” “That’s
Speaker:the spirit!”
Speaker:I punched the air and raised my right paw.
Speaker:“I’ll go check us in.” Laurie
Speaker:stepped past Samantha to grab my suitcases,
Speaker:then handed them to me with a wry smirk.
Speaker:“Don’t think you’re getting out of helping us, dude!
Speaker:Anddon’t forget to get us some extra cards,
Speaker:or keys, or whatever this place uses.” “Fair
Speaker:enough,” I said after gripping my luggage, adding,
Speaker:“And I will!” as I bounded up towards the front entrance. “And
Speaker:try not to flirt with the
Speaker:owner, conejo!” Dean shouted,
Speaker:to which I flipped the bird with my back turned to him. Would
Speaker:he ever get over the hookup incident in Thunderbird? The
Speaker:dust clouds seemed several miles away,
Speaker:looming like an act of God as I trekked across the cracked parking lot to the building half-frozen in time.
Speaker:The archway connected to the front entrance was decked head to toe in various
Speaker:political stickers,
Speaker:etched carvings of names/dates,
Speaker:and solid wads of dried, used gum from decades past,
Speaker:but beyond the tinted windows, the Desert Star’s lobby stood out as surprisingly clean,
Speaker:especially given the state of Goodbye itself.
Speaker:Besides rolling my eyes at a few tacky Halloween decorations or marveling
Speaker:at the stained-glass lamp on the ceiling, as well as wrinkling my nose at the ugly pea soup carpeting,
Speaker:I almost felt tempted to
Speaker:take a siesta on the upholstered sofa in the corner.
Speaker:It felt taken right from the living room of a 1970s suburban home.
Speaker:Part of me almost expected to
Speaker:find Kurtwood Smith lounging atop it,
Speaker:waiting to call someone a ‘dumbass’ in that nasally, rasping voice of his, and I wanted to sleep on it as well. I
Speaker:ignored the temptation though.
Speaker:The gang and I had work to do.
Speaker:Carrying my luggage a few feet towards the front desk, I rang the bell once and waited for a couple minutes.
Speaker:No acknowledgment, I hit it twice.
Speaker:Still not a soul in sight,
Speaker:and I was about to just give up
Speaker:when a figure suddenly jumped up from behind the counter, proclaiming with a greeted paw,
Speaker:“Norma Bloch, pleasure to meet you!
Speaker:Welcome to the Desert Star Motel!” Almost
Speaker:jumping right into and through the plaster ceiling like a cartoon character,
Speaker:I tried to regain composure
Speaker:and faked a comfortable laugh, shaking her offered paw.
Speaker:She wore a plaid t-shirt despite the New Mexico heat, swished her paw as if I’d been the first mammal she’d seen in ages,
Speaker:yet smiled like a friendly saleswoman. “Bram
Speaker:Heathcliff,” I exhaled once my heart started working again.
Speaker:“I booked a couple of rooms for me and my friends. We’re the Paranormal Hunters Society.”
Speaker:When the vixen’s eyebrows raised, and she went to computer tucked in the countertop’s corner,
Speaker:my own salesmanship bubbled to the surface.
Speaker:“I reckon you’d never heard of us?” “Sweetie,
Speaker:if I had a dollar for every two-cent psychic and paranormal investigator
Speaker:pretending they’re the real Ghostbusters that’s been staying here,
Speaker:I’d probably have enough pennies to retire to the Keys,”
Speaker:she sighed, then giggled strangely enough like Debra Jo Rupp.
Speaker:Déjà vu. “Don’t even get me started on the out-of-state folks either…” “I
Speaker:don’t know if I should be insulted or not,”
Speaker:I gave a charming smile as I thumbed to the front door behind me.
Speaker:“For the record, my crew and I aren’t just some ‘two-cent psychics’, but we are paranormal investigators though, just like
Speaker:the real Ghostbusters.
Speaker:Except we’re not from New York, we’re all from Nueva Fe.” She
Speaker:continued typing and clicking,
Speaker:her wedding ring glinting from the overhead lights, eyeing me with a grin.
Speaker:“I reckon you’re here to document some of the odds and evens of Goodbye then?
Speaker:And on Halloween, no less?” “What
Speaker:better time than Halloween?”
Speaker:I asked, to which Mrs. Bloch giggled again as I heard shuffling behind me.
Speaker:Dean, Samantha, and Laurie were on their way inside, carrying some suitcases and equipment.
Speaker:“By the way, can you get us
Speaker:some extra key cards for the rooms? Just so we don’t get locked in or out, you know.” “We don’t use cards, but of course you can have some extras, hun,”
Speaker:she replied, and knelt under the counter.
Speaker:When she came back, she had produced four separate silvery keys,
Speaker:each one possessing a rubbery Route 66 keychain. “You’re in
Speaker:Rooms 16 and 17, down at the end of the hall.
Speaker:Try not to lose these, please.” “Sure thing!” I snatched them up and pocketed the keys into my jeans.
Speaker:My rabbit tail wiggled.
Speaker:“So, tell me, are the rooms the same as they were sixty years ago?” “Sure
Speaker:are, but we got modern amenities like better plumbing, TVs, air conditioning, etcetera,”
Speaker:she said as if reciting it by heart.
Speaker:Before I could ask her if she would be open to having us interview her,
Speaker:the middle-aged vixen’s eyes widened to something behind us.
Speaker:“Oh my!” I turned around along with the rest of my crew right as a strong gust of sand assaulted the windows of the motel’s front entrance.
Speaker:Suddenly, the room felt darker
Speaker:as that dust storm finally struck Goodbye, New Mexico.
Speaker:“Think it was stupid of us to get up so early now?”
Speaker:I asked Dean, who answered me with a simple scoff. “How
Speaker:long did it say it would last?”
Speaker:Samantha spoke up, her tail bristling behind her.
Speaker:“I don’t want us to go out and get any sand inside the equipment.” “Few
Speaker:minutes to an hour,
Speaker:give or take,” the vixen answered.
Speaker:“When they hit, they hit hard!” “Great,”
Speaker:Samantha drawled. “Thanks for letting us stay, ma’am,”
Speaker:Laurie chimed in as we started to walk down the adjacent corridor to our rooms.
Speaker:“Have a good night!” “You
Speaker:too, kids!” Mrs. Bloch waved before disappearing again
Speaker:around the corner. “So,
Speaker:girls get Seventeen and guys get Sixteen,”
Speaker:I spoke casually.
Speaker:A wry curl of my lips and a speck of boldness led to me suggesting,
Speaker:“Unless y’all wanna share a room with me and Dean.
Speaker:We can all cuddle ‘neath the sleeping bags, tell ghost
Speaker:stories, share secrets—” “I’d
Speaker:like to inform HR that the boss is sexually harassing staff members,”
Speaker:Dean interrupted in a deadpan snark,
Speaker:to which Laurie and I snickered as Samantha fought back a blushing giggle.
Speaker:“And by the way, the keys?” I
Speaker:set down my suitcases and pulled out the two pairs of room keys. “A key for you, a key for you, and I guess a
Speaker:key for you too.” “Thanks,”
Speaker:Laurie chimed. Samantha
Speaker:smiled, “Thank you, Bram,” “Thanks,
Speaker:conejo.” Dean droned. I clapped
Speaker:my paws together. “You’re welcome!
Speaker:Now let’s get settled in, perhaps even nap if we need to!” Laurie and Samantha walked several feet down to the neighboring room,
Speaker:leaving me and Dean standing in front of ours.
Speaker:My tail wiggled behind me as I inhaled the scents of an air freshener, mixed with a whiff of aged water seal
Speaker:and whatever chemicals cleaned the patterned hallway carpeting.
Speaker:My coworker wordlessly volunteered to unlock our room, but from the anticipated wag in his canine tail, I could tell he shared the same excitement we all did. “My
Speaker:homeroom from high school was bigger than this,”
Speaker:Dean quipped when he stepped inside.
Speaker:He inhaled deeply,
Speaker:wrinkling his nose, and added,
Speaker:“Definitely smells like my homeroom though.” “This
Speaker:is definitely a mid-century motel,”
Speaker:I agreed in tone before closing the door behind us.
Speaker:“Sure as hell can’t find too many of these around.” “Thank
Speaker:fuck for that,”
Speaker:Dean jested. Similarly, the girls voiced the same amazement at Room 17’s size and layout,
Speaker:which I knew had to match Room 16 where me and Dean were lodged in.
Speaker:Despite the room being no bigger than an average prison cell at the county jail,
Speaker:I still felt a tingle of anemoia standing in the narrow space between me
Speaker:and Dean’s twin beds.
Speaker:True to the owner’s word,
Speaker:a modern air conditioning unit
Speaker:convulsed gusts of cool air into the room,
Speaker:and I half-sighed at not seeing an analog television on the wooden dresser. However,
Speaker:everything else still screamed ‘vintage Americana’ to the heavens,
Speaker:from the creaking frames beneath a pile of cotton blankets to
Speaker:the framed replica of Nighthawks beside the tiny bathroom. “Tell
Speaker:me you do not snore,” Dean asked
Speaker:as he placed our suitcases in the corner closet.
Speaker:“I hardly enjoy spending time with you at the office as is.” “First
Speaker:off, fuck you too,”
Speaker:I rolled my eyes as glanced one more time at my phone. I uttered a soft-spoken,
Speaker:“Fuck.” Then, I said, “Second of all,
Speaker:no I don’t. I’m a light sleeper,
Speaker:in fact. Anyway, I just checked the weather again, and it says that damn dust storm outside’s supposed to keep going ‘til after midnight.” “I
Speaker:thought you said it’d go on until five,”
Speaker:the Mexican wolf jerked his muzzle in my direction. “Well,
Speaker:the weather app suddenly decided it’ll go on ‘til midnight,”
Speaker:I retorted. “It also says we’re gonna get some rain,
Speaker:so at least we were smart to bring umbrellas.” “Shit,”
Speaker:he groaned, leaning against the closest bed.
Speaker:“Do you think we can still go out and get some footage?” “Samantha
Speaker:won’t like it,”
Speaker:I mentioned. “Neither will our viewers if we give them nothing,”
Speaker:Dean pointed out.
Speaker:“I also didn’t endure a four-hour drive just to sit in a motel room with you of all fucking people.” “Same
Speaker:here, asshole,” I huffed,
Speaker:and sent texts to Laurie and Samantha.
Speaker:“We’ll talk to Sam about it then.
Speaker:Hopefully, we didn’t forget a GoPro…” “This
Speaker:is Samantha we’re talking about,”
Speaker:he stated. “Of course, she brought one. She’s too smart to not consider making sure we brought one.” A
Speaker:loud knock vibrated from behind the TV.
Speaker:“We can hear you through the walls.”
Speaker:Laurie’s voice carried through the wallpaper.
Speaker:“And Samantha wanted me to tell Dean
Speaker:‘thank you’.” “For what?”
Speaker:He asked, only to get no reply. The canine
Speaker:and I shared looks, shrugged, then went back to unpacking our things. Samantha
Speaker:had trouble talking to others, though
Speaker:not as badly with us as she did with other strangers.
Speaker:It sort of worked in her favor though as a camerawoman and behind-the-scenes gal.
Speaker:Our tech-savvy team member didn’t just care for the P.H.S. equipment but adored it like children. I often joked about one day possibly catching the shy squirrel cradling the EMF detector,
Speaker:or perhaps one of our expensive cameras,
Speaker:like an actual newborn cub. Then again, she took her pivotal job as the Society’s technician almost more seriously than I did as the Society’s lead investigator.
Speaker:In fact, her thorough editing skills and post-production know-how made me often wonder why she didn’t become a serious filmmaker sometimes. Meanwhile,
Speaker:Laurie joined the Paranormal Hunters Society
Speaker:as my co-lead investigator after we remained friends following her own
Speaker:supernatural experience.
Speaker:Being an occasional friend-with-benefits in the past helped me already know she too shared my curiosity about things unknown.
Speaker:Mainly, the mountain lioness liked doing stuff outside her day job.
Speaker:As for Dean, as much as we often fought like bitter in-laws, he did play a pivotal role
Speaker:in the Paranormal Hunters Society.
Speaker:Not only as our resident skeptic
Speaker:(I loved calling him Mr. Skeptic, much to his chagrin),
Speaker:but as a diligent researcher for the team. He helped us gather historic, folkloric, paranatural, and cultural information on locations needed.
Speaker:Honest to God,
Speaker:the canine knew more about Goodbye than I did.
Speaker:Shame we didn’t see eye-to-eye as much. Still,
Speaker:so long as we did our jobs, our ragtag team of misfits
Speaker:worked extraordinarily. *** “Four.
Speaker:“Four...three...two, and...Bram, it’s on!”
Speaker:My posture stiffened then relaxed into an excited pose in the motel room’s
Speaker:entrance foyer. “Welcome, spooks and specters, to the Paranormal Hunters Society’s Annual Halloween Extravaganza!”
Speaker:I greeted the future viewers
Speaker:while ignoring Laurie’s muffled giggles and Dean rolling his eyes off-camera.
Speaker:“You asked us, and we promised,
Speaker:and so tonight, me and the entire P.H.S.
Speaker:crew are standing right out here,
Speaker:right inside the Desert Flower Motel,
Speaker:nestled in the heart of the
Speaker:infamous ghost town
Speaker:that’s fascinated
Speaker:and scared paranormal researchers for decade:
Speaker:Goodbye, New Mexico!
Speaker:I paused, partly for dramatic effect
Speaker:but also to catch my breath. “Anyone
Speaker:obsessed with Route 66 or paranormal locations in America already knows about this place,
Speaker:but what the Hell,
Speaker:let’s go over the basics, shall we?”
Speaker:I glimpsed over to Mr. Skeptic
Speaker:standing by the room’s closed bathroom,
Speaker:right next to the Nighthawks replica.
Speaker:“Dean, do you want the honor?”
Speaker:He nodded offscreen.
Speaker:The Mexican wolf cleared his throat,
Speaker:sighed, then smiled to Samantha when she directed the camera to him.
Speaker:“The story begins all the way back in 1927, when Daniel T. Culpepper established Goodbye over a year after the U.S. government launched Route 66,”
Speaker:he explained. “It’s believed the town’s name originated from an inside joke that, as its first mayor,
Speaker:Culpepper and his citizens would say farewell to their own poverty.
Speaker:As the American Midwest and California were now connected by a single major highway system, the prime location that was
Speaker:Goodbye caused its local economy to boom,
Speaker:and like any boom,
Speaker:the town follows,
Speaker:with census estimates topping off at
Speaker:over at least three-thousand residents
Speaker:by 1955.
Speaker:All thanks to the surging Baby Boomers who flocked and flew through Goodbye.
Speaker:Like every other town and city across the route, it started to grow and grow…until
Speaker:a new highway system replaced the old one. Suddenly,
Speaker:no impatient American from Las Estrellas or Lakertown wanted to go down here,
Speaker:since the new Interstate Highway System made travel faster and more convenient.
Speaker:However, what separates Goodbye from the other ghost towns are the stories that former residents have told over the years...”
Speaker:Dean inhaled and exhaled,
Speaker:visibly doing his best to remain neutral without revealing Mr. Skeptic. “Well,
Speaker:going as far back as its founding, Goodbye has been the center of supernatural phenomena.
Speaker:There’s the standard ghost sightings, at least one confirmed poltergeist case that’s been reported in their defunct newspaper,
Speaker:as well as a couple of notable disappearances.
Speaker:But then there’s witnesses who claim to have seen Hellhounds, UFOs,
Speaker:demons, angels, some more people who claim they’ve traveled to the future and to the past.
Speaker:One recounted surviving an attack by the legendary Sasquatch,
Speaker:another with an evil jackalope, and one infamous incident happened where every resident of Goodbye
Speaker:woke up three days after falling asleep.”
Speaker:He didn’t discuss said incident further.
Speaker:Conspiracy theorists often referred to it as ‘Goodbye’s Lost Weekend’,
Speaker:or ‘the Missing Saturday and Forgotten Sunday’,
Speaker:when residents fell asleep on Friday, July 18th, 1969,
Speaker:and woke up the next Monday
Speaker:with virtually no recollection of what happened.
Speaker:Nobody knew how, why, what, or who
Speaker:caused the time lapse to occur,
Speaker:but by the time residents tuned in
Speaker:their radios and television sets Monday morning, everyone
Speaker:was taken aback that the Apollo moon landings
Speaker:already happened.
Speaker:In all honesty, the Lost Weekend itself could be its own solo story.
Speaker:Plenty of paranormal and conspiracy theory researchers
Speaker:had been trying to solve the mystery for decades,
Speaker:but that wasn’t why we were in Goodbye.
Speaker:At least, not for tonight’s investigation.
Speaker:“For this Halloween Night, we’re going to be focused on the topic of wild hunts,”
Speaker:Dean informed the audience,
Speaker:“For those who don’t know, the ‘Wild Hunt’ is a folkloric motif
Speaker:focused on a procession of ghosts and spirits roaming across the night sky.
Speaker:This dates all the way back to Norse mythology,
Speaker:when it was said that Odin himself would lead an army of soldiers and Vikings across the battlefield during Ragnarök.
Speaker:Nowadays, the Wild Hunt is referred to as a
Speaker:chaotic dust storm of howling ghosts parading outside.
Speaker:Other cultures and peoples have their own unique and similar versions,
Speaker:from Eastern Europe to Southeast Asia and the Polynesian cultures,
Speaker:and the Americas are no exception.
Speaker:“According to urban legend, Daniel Culpepper himself witnessed this same supernatural event on the first
Speaker:Halloween of the town’s founding.
Speaker:Some witnesses have talked about hearing ghostly wailing in the wind almost every All Hallow’s Eve,
Speaker:though some of these testimonies are contradictory,
Speaker:and nobody has been able to gather evidence of such a thing occurring at all.
Speaker:Is it all fact or all fiction?
Speaker:Let’s find out!” “And cut!”
Speaker:Samantha lowered her camera.
Speaker:“You did great there, Dean!” “Gracias,” the canine managed to hide his blush well.
Speaker:I shook my head, as this was becoming staler than a soap opera.
Speaker:When would he tell her the truth, I wondered.
Speaker:“I’m a little worried I rambled on and on a little there.”
Speaker:“You did fine, Dean!”
Speaker:Laurie patted his shoulder
Speaker:before turning to the room’s drawn windows,
Speaker:and I collectively sighed with her that the storm had not let up.
Speaker:“I just wish this damn wind would do a better job with timing.
Speaker:We can’t stay here another night.”
Speaker:“I could call in sick at my dad’s place,”
Speaker:I suggested, ears perked.
Speaker:“My boss at my day job isn’t as understanding as your
Speaker:papa though,” Dean mentioned with crossed arms.
Speaker:“I’ve already called in to work three times last month.”
Speaker:“And I don’t want my parents to get angry at me for staying out of town …longer,”
Speaker:she looked away when all three of our eyes fell on her, and the squirrel continued,
Speaker:“Than usual, I mean.
Speaker:You know how it goes.”
Speaker:One of my ears folded downward.
Speaker:I didn’t pry too much into Samantha’s relationship with her mother and father,
Speaker:but I did know it severely affected her self-esteem.
Speaker:Even after going to college and getting an excellent day job at her uncle’s electronics store.
Speaker:How she managed to convince them to let her join us on these paranormal investigations, let alone
Speaker:join the Paranormal Hunters Society as a member, I would never know.
Speaker:The last thing I wanted was to create a reason for them to consider otherwise.
Speaker:“So...what do we do now?”
Speaker:Dean asked. Everyone’s eyes looked from to the other.
Speaker:I cleared my throat and said,
Speaker:“Me and Laurie can go out, gather some footage, and maybe explore some spots?
Speaker:We can get up extra-early in the morning tomorrow to get the rest of the footage. How’s that sound, guys? Gals?”
Speaker:As much as I hated the idea, someone had to propose
Speaker:something. Dean, Samantha, and Laurie traded uncertain looks
Speaker:before agreeing. *** “Why did my family have to go to New Mexico?” I bemoaned. “Why couldn’t we have moved to a part of 66 that isn’t sand, wind and
Speaker:fuckin’ dust clouds!?” “Better
Speaker:question, why did I let you
Speaker:convince me to come?”
Speaker:Laurie asked me, laughing over the tornado sounds in our ears. “Hey, Sammy,
Speaker:you still there, girl?” “Loud
Speaker:and clear,” Samantha’s voice sounded more jovial and calmer on the other end of the earpieces.
Speaker:“Bram, please don’t nod your head. It’s making the feed blurry enough as it is.
Speaker:And Laurie, make sure you don’t talk too loudly into the mics. You’re sending the levels on red. I can hear you fine.” “Roger
Speaker:that, Command,”
Speaker:I tapped the piece with a finger.
Speaker:“We’re still on the sidewalk
Speaker:fast approaching the Route itself.
Speaker:Don’t wander too far, Laurie.” “The
Speaker:fuck would I wanna do that?” she snarked. “You’re the one who wanted to do this! I’m just along for the ride!” I
Speaker:laughed and rolled my eyes,
Speaker:“Point taken!” She and I still wore our initial clothing,
Speaker:plus a pair of hoodies covering our heads and some dark sand goggles that Samantha of all mammals thought to bring on our trip.
Speaker:My white jacket and her neon green
Speaker:clashed against the dim Halloween twilight obscured by a dense layer of desert blanketing everything in sight.
Speaker:A GoPro peeked out of our hoods as it filmed raw footage through the lukewarm wind
Speaker:and seemingly endless pastoral landscape,
Speaker:relaying the feed back for Samantha to record. Beneath our jackets were a bottle of water,
Speaker:radios strapped to our belts,
Speaker:our phones, our flashlights,
Speaker:and an EMF field detector
Speaker:—that’s Electromotive Force detector,
Speaker:kind of like a metal detector for the supernatural
Speaker:—in my pocket. Everything we needed for what hopefully wouldn’t be a long search ahead.
Speaker:Goodbye, New Mexico was like a body,
Speaker:threadbare and skeletal and bisected by Route 66; through the wind’s haze,
Speaker:I could spot the recognizable neon sign of a local bar along the Route called El Dorado Lounge and
Speaker:caught a glimpse of what looked to be a few cars parked along the dead street.
Speaker:Me and Laurie immediately rushed across the cracked Route 66 and to the entrance,
Speaker:where I held the door open for her.
Speaker:“Thanks,” she muttered.
Speaker:“It’s good to treat a lady right,” I grinned behind sand and dust that caked my lips.
Speaker:“Woman, yes, but a lady
Speaker:I am not,” she said,
Speaker:cackling as she rushed inside.
Speaker:An outdated chime
Speaker:welcomed our arrival.
Speaker:Dim neon lighting lit our entrance, while the heavy pungency of stale, spilled beer and
Speaker:burnt out cigarettes choked the
Speaker:air quality.
Speaker:It drifted down a small corridor filled to the brim with photos and
Speaker:business cards, some of them warped, water-damaged,
Speaker:or just plain worn out from age.
Speaker:For being named the El Dorado Lounge, there was nothing golden,
Speaker:let alone classy about it.
Speaker:It was a dive in every description of the word, but it was the sort of sketchy dive bar most teenage bands dreamed of playing in for their first gig in front of a live audience.
Speaker:The El Dorado even had a tiny stage
Speaker:on the far left of the empty chairs and empty
Speaker:tables, and I could just picture said teenage band hunkering down behind it and
Speaker:playing their guts out to a hostile crowd
Speaker:too drunk to care or appreciate the effort.
Speaker:That night, several hunched backs turned our way,
Speaker:to glower at me and Laurie peeling down our hoodies.
Speaker:I kept my eyes focused on undoing my zipper;
Speaker:I didn’t need to look up to see a few scowls from the patrons. Yep,
Speaker:we were tourists. Sue us.
Speaker:We sidled up to the bar,
Speaker:where the man tending it was a graying grizzly bear wearing worn out and patched overalls. He nodded and offered a friendly grin, and I noticed a few missing fangs from the inside of his head. “You ain’t
Speaker:local here, are ya?”
Speaker:he asked us. “What gave us away?” I chided. “Think ya picked the wrong night to come tonight.”
Speaker:“Not really,” I chuckled. “It’s
Speaker:Halloween. You know: Goblins and witches, and broomsticks and ghosts.
Speaker:Covens of warlocks with all of their hosts.”
Speaker:“Where’d you get that from?”
Speaker:Laurie asked. “Halloween,”
Speaker:I replied grinning. “You know, the original classic.”
Speaker:“Nerd.” “Why do they got them doohickey’s on their heads, Jim?”
Speaker:Laurie and me turned down the lane to see that the speaker was a middle-aged wolf
Speaker:in a heavy dusting jacket.
Speaker:His eyes went from us back to Jim the bartender
Speaker:and back again, the whiskers on his graying snout bristling and twitching furtively.
Speaker:“Are those cameras?”
Speaker:“They are,” Laurie spoke up. “We’re paranormal investigators
Speaker:looking into the mysteries of Goodbye, and with your permission,
Speaker:can we ask you about life in town,
Speaker:what things you’ve encountered and the like?”
Speaker:The same middle-aged wolf scoffed, “If I had a buck for everyone who asked me that shit, I’d be richer’n old King Cole.
Speaker:But sure, whatever.
Speaker:What about you, Jim?”
Speaker:“Can we record you too while we’re at it?”
Speaker:I asked the quizzical bear. When one of his clawed fingers tapped on the glass shot that he’d been cleaning,
Speaker:then to the tip jar sitting beside his register,
Speaker:a sigh escaped the back of my throat
Speaker:as I fished for my wallet.
Speaker:“Yeah, yeah. I get the hint.”
Speaker:This was the first of two parts of
Speaker:“Goodbye, New Mexico” by Domus Vocis, read for you by Rob MacWolf, werewolf hitchhiker.
Speaker:Tune in next time to find out what Bram and Laurie learn about the experiences of those who lived through Goodbye’s supernatural events,
Speaker:and whether they can survive the night.
Speaker:As always, you can find more stories on the web
Speaker:at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Ghost of Dog.