by Lynne Hinton
Eve followed, driving past the service station where he stopped. She watched in her rearview mirror as he pulled up next to a pump. She drove to the next intersection and did a quick U-turn, deciding to stop at a coffee shop across the street from the station where Barr had stopped. She pulled in, backed into a parking spot, and then quickly jumped out to ask to use a phone, but the coffee shop was no longer in business and there was no one else around. She got back in the truck.
She watched as he filled his tank and then went into the small store. A few minutes later he came out with two paper bags that Eve assumed contained food or drinks, perhaps supplies for what appeared to be a longer trip. She glanced down at her own gas gauge and was hopeful that the three-quarters of a tank would get her to wherever he was going. She also looked over at her supplies down on the floorboard and up on the passenger’s seat, remembering all that the Captain had left in the truck when he took her motorcycle. There were granola bars and fruit, a couple of sandwiches, and several small bags of chips.
“I guess you know best again,” she said out loud, glad for the extra food and hoping her father wasn’t too worried about her and hadn’t sent out a posse to try to find her. She suddenly thought of what else had been placed in the truck, the revolver beneath her seat, and wondered if that would also be something she would eventually be glad that he had left her.
Eve was hopeful that would not happen. She hoped she would never have to display it. One thing was sure about this quick decision she had made to follow Barr: she didn’t want to use a gun.
She directed her attention back to what was happening in front of her and noticed that the white truck was sitting at the entrance to the gas station. When Eve realized that he was facing in her direction, getting a clear shot of her across the street, she ducked down, hoping that he hadn’t recognized the truck and that he hadn’t seen her sitting in the driver’s seat. When she sat up he was gone, having pulled out from the driveway across the road, merging into the far right lane and turning onto the interstate once again, still heading south.
Eve waited a few seconds and then pulled out to follow him. She turned on her signal and took the ramp outside the bustling town of Bernalillo, moving in the direction of Albuquerque. They drove for ten or fifteen minutes before arriving in Duke City.
Traffic remained light in the biggest city in New Mexico as they traveled through town a few hours before rush hour. The lanes grew from two to four as they made their way to the Big I, the intersection of Highway 25, which they were traveling heading north to south, and Highway 40, which ran east to west, coast-to-coast.
She dropped back a bit as they sped past the downtown exits, past the hospitals and hotels, the airport and the university. They made their way past the routes to the south valley. Barr was apparently making no stops, and Eve began to wonder if he was fleeing the state, trying to get to the border of Mexico and leave the country altogether.
That doesn’t make any sense, she thought as the speed limit returned to seventy-five miles per hour and the landscape changed from a highly developed city to a more rural area. She noticed the exit to the Isleta Pueblo and remembered that this was the place where Anthony had discovered the holy writings of Sister Maria. This was the place where everything began. This was the starting location of unfolding events that eventually led to theft and murder. She wondered if the people in the pueblo knew what had happened at the Pecos monastery and if they knew their holy writings had been taken.
She recalled the recent visit of the Isleta priest and several men from the pueblo, how adamant they were to find Anthony. It was clear that some of the people in Isleta knew what had happened, but she didn’t know if everyone had been told. She didn’t know if they were all searching for the young monk who was working on the restoration of the church.
She watched as the white truck slowed at the exit for the casino and the campground, the exit that would lead to the plaza of the pueblo where the mission church had been for hundreds of years. She recalled as she dropped back to observe Barr’s movements that the Isleta church was named for Anthony of Padua and was built in 1629 on the north edge of the main plaza and then later rebuilt after it was decimated during the Pueblo Revolt. Eve also recalled that it was Isleta where the Jumano Indians traveled, guided by Sister Maria, in search of a priest to come back to their village and baptize them. It only made sense to her that the writings would be there, since the Jumano Indians were no longer a recognized tribe. They had dispersed sometime following their Christianization, and as far as Eve knew, there were no Native Americans who identified with this group.
She wondered if Barr had not only the blue cape but also the writings and was returning them to Isleta, perhaps in response to a request made by Anthony. Or, she thought, maybe Anthony was somewhere on the pueblo, hiding out at Isleta, waiting for the supplies Barr had just purchased.
Nothing was making much sense to Eve; nothing was clear. She still didn’t know if Barr was a protector of Anthony, who was, in fact, a fugitive running from murder charges, or if Barr was the only perpetrator and the murderer of two siblings.
She watched as the white truck sped up, not taking the exit to Isleta but still traveling south. She drove on in hopes that her questions would soon be answered.
FORTY-THREE
The two trucks had traveled well south of Albuquerque before Eve finally understood their destination. Traffic was sparse on that Friday. Few travelers were on the interstate with them heading in either direction. There were a few trucks, a motor home or camper now and then, several sedans and sport-utility vehicles, but the farther south they got, the fewer cars and trucks they encountered.
Even with the sparcity of vehicles traveling near them, Eve had managed to keep a safe distance from Barr, still able to keep the truck ahead of her in sight, but far enough behind it that she was confident Barr hadn’t seen her. She kept up with him, glad that the Captain had left her the truck, knowing that the trip she was taking would have been less comfortable if she were driving her motorcycle.
The sun was setting, the pink and red colors trailing across the western sky, as the minutes ticked to hours and she realized she had been traveling from Tererro for most of the day. She had already eaten a granola bar and drunk half a bottle of water and was munching on an apple when Barr finally slowed, turning on his blinker to head in a different direction.
Eve watched as he took the exit just out of Belen that led to State Highway 47, which she knew connected with Highway 60 a few miles from the Abo Pass. She had not traveled to this section of New Mexico all that often, but she knew where she was and she had an idea of where he was going. When he turned east on the narrow highway, moving in the direction of the little town of Mountainair beyond the Manzano Mountains, Eve remembered the map she had seen in his house and knew for certain the strange man’s destination.
Although there had been no specific site established as the place of Sister Maria’s bilocation from her convent in Agreda, Spain, there were a number of educated guesses. Eve knew that most religion scholars who studied the nun and author of The Mystical City of God agreed that the Lady in Blue appeared to the tribe of the Jumano Indians and to the Tejas tribe somewhere east of Isleta. According to the journals and historical collections from the Franciscan movement during the time of her travels, it was said that the Indians, because of her guidance, had traveled to the pueblo along the Rio Grande River seeking a priest to come to them and offer them baptism.
It was further believed, based on the diaries of those missionaries sent to them, that she had visited the Indians somewhere in a place that took the travelers out of Isleta through the Mescalero Apache lands, across the Manzano Mountain range, and along the banks of a river. This river, which Eve knew was no longer known, was described as a channel whose waters were said to be filled with pink pearls. This was the place of a great baptism of many Indians, most of whom described
the nun’s visits to them as being made by a young woman dressed in a blue cape who led them to the pueblo church.
Father Benavides, superior of the Franciscan missions of New Mexico at the time when Sister Maria was said to be transported to the southwestern people, left the mission and visited the nun after going back to Mexico City and returning to Spain. He had met the Indians who claimed that the young sister had come to them, believing that she had spoken to them and taught them. And having heard from the priest in Spain, who gave further insight into the nun’s travels and the possible arrival of another tribe of Indians to his mission, he intended to meet Sister Maria. Father Benavides also intended to interview this young woman who was said to have appeared to these tribes more than five hundred times.
The priest wanted to learn more about her events of bilocation and authenticate the experiences. He wanted to see for himself if this nun had been given the gift of teleportation and if these incidents had truly happened or if it had been merely some community vision given to the native peoples, attributed of course to God but without involving the mystical and well-connected Spanish nun.
After speaking on several occasions with Sister Maria, Father Benavides was said to have been convinced that indeed she had visited the area numerous times, calling attention to details of the landscape and the people there, details that only someone who had visited the location and seen the people would be able to name. He wrote later that she spoke of being present at the baptisms held in this river of pink pearls, able to give complete descriptions of the priest officiating at the blessed sacraments as well as those receiving the sacred rite.
It was also said that he was convinced of her devotion to the native people as she spoke to him of her great love for them and of her deepest desire for them to know of her faith, to become baptized and join her in her religious tradition. She believed that God had given her the gifts of love and devotion, which then led to the gift of bilocation so that she could make sure the tribes had been given instruction about the Christian faith.
The stories of the young nun’s bilocation brought much fame to Sister Maria, and with the fame, Eve recalled reading, came also great suspicion. She became a target of the Holy Office of the Inquisition, created to downplay the rise of mysticism within those in the church. Many believed that the reports of mystical experiences harmed the work and mission of the faith, and those with this belief considered those who claimed to have a developed and significant mystical inner light as a threat.
So much had been made in Spain and in the New World of the young nun’s gifts and actions that, like many others accused of being “alumbrados,” she was quickly scrutinized. Sister Maria eventually came face-to-face with interviewers in 1635, and again in 1649, the Lady in Blue was investigated by those involved in the Spanish Inquisition.
She was questioned extensively about her visions and mystical experience, but she continued to maintain her innocence and devotion to God. After the interrogations, reports revealed that Sister Maria was never formally charged with any crime against the church. While so many religious leaders and laywomen and laymen were found guilty and suffered grave consequences, Maria remained a nun in good standing with the Catholic Church.
Whether it was because of her authenticated story of bilocation made by the well-respected Father Benavides on her behalf or because of her personal relationship with King Philip IV, having served for years as his spiritual guide and confidante, the young nun was eventually exonerated, never having been forced to stand trial.
In a letter that Sister Maria penned to the Franciscan missionaries in the New World, she told of the desert places she had visited. Eve remembered reading about the letter in a journal article discussing the strange incidents that had occurred in the southwestern states. Eve had kept the article for years because of the many facts and details it included that she had not read before.
In her letter Maria wrote that she had been in the kingdom of Quivira and with the Jumano Indians, which were the last ones to whom she had been transported. She had gone to a place the Franciscan missionaries had not traveled and visited a people they had not encountered.
Eve waited as the truck took the exit, understanding where they were ultimately heading. John Barr was traveling south from Mountainair into the West Mesa and along the Liberty Valley down to the Gran Quivira at the Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument. He was going to the pueblo where Sister Maria was believed to have appeared to the Indians sometime in the early 1600s.
FORTY-FOUR
Eve waited as John Barr turned down the dirt road heading south away from the Gran Quivira at the Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument. She stopped at the intersection and followed the white truck with her eyes only as Barr headed south, kicking up clouds of dust behind him. She knew there wasn’t much beyond the monument. A few trails led to the Pinatosa Canyon, and a path took travelers to a small camping and picnic site, but from what Eve remembered of her visits to the national monument, there was not much beyond the restored pueblo.
At one time, Eve recalled, several villages had been settled in the area, ranching communities, a few pueblo houses, but most were deserted in the 1920s and 1930s during seasons of drought. The next village south on the road Barr was taking was Claunch, and Eve knew from a visit there some time ago that it was mostly a ghost town, abandoned years before. She didn’t know exactly where he was going, but she realized she was not able to follow him undetected any farther. There were not enough vehicles on the road to keep her truck hidden, and with night approaching, Eve realized her surveillance was likely coming to an end.
She drove up the highway a bit, made a U-turn, and pulled off the road into the national monument parking lot. It appeared to be closed, probably still too early in the year, she thought, assuming it didn’t open again until later in the spring. There was only one other automobile that she could see, a green truck, with a license plate identifying it as an official vehicle of the National Park Service. A ranger’s ride, she figured, but she did not see anyone around and guessed that it was left there at the national monument grounds when not in use.
She was a bit chilled since the sun had set and the desert air had grown colder. She kept the engine running and turned on the heat and waited, not knowing where Barr was going or why he had driven to the monument and then gone farther south. She could only guess that he would eventually return to the road he had been traveling and head back to the main road or to the interstate.
Of course she wanted to keep following him, wanted to maintain a good visual on the man, but she also knew she didn’t want to be alone and confront him again. She had been frightened enough the first time. She simply wanted to see where he was going and see if he might lead her to the hiding place of Brother Anthony.
She thought about her phone again, wishing she had it, wishing she could contact the Captain since she knew he was likely very concerned. She looked at her watch, realizing it had been more than six hours since they had talked. She guessed that he had already phoned Daniel and was sure that at that very moment, both of them were trying to locate her. She realized they would never suspect she was sitting along a desolate road in the desert almost three hours away from where they were, following a madman without any real proof that he would, in fact, lead her to Brother Anthony.
She sat back in her seat and thought about what she knew about the area Barr had driven into. She recalled reading in history books that the pueblo at Gran Quivira had been built in a commanding position on a mesa and was originally named Cueloze by its inhabitants. The first Spanish visitors were said to have arrived in the area in 1598 and called the native village Pueblo de los Jumanos, which she knew translated as the “village of the striped ones,” and those striped ones, the Jumanos, were one of the tribes that Sister Maria visited.
She knew that Gran Quivira was one of the places the Spaniards had visited during their exploration
s for their home country, searching for the fabled gold, believing earlier reports they had heard about the seven cities of the New World. Francisco Vasquez de Coronado and Juan de Onate, both passionate Spanish explorers, had been to the pueblo, trying to locate the great treasure recounted to them in stories told by earlier surveyors.
The area where she had parked and was waiting was believed to have been settled in the ninth century by Indians known as pit-house dwellers. Three hundred years later, a larger village of Indians settled there, building adobe houses aboveground and using the distinctive pottery style that was often found in the area, Chupadero black and white. By the 1600s, when Sister Maria was said to appear to the Indians, this village, this place where Barr had led Eve, was the largest settlement of Indians in the southwestern United States, with more than fifteen hundred people living there.
Eve looked around and thought about a village that might have existed such a long time ago. She thought about the people and their mud houses, their sharpened skills of hunting and farming, their religion intimately tied to the cycles of nature, and their struggle for survival in a place with so little water. She thought about the unwanted arrival of the Spaniards and their priests, the fights and battles with the newcomers and their ongoing skirmishes with other tribes, recalling that the pueblo where she was waiting, along with several others in the area, was abandoned not long after the appearances of Sister Maria because of heavy Apache attacks.
“Where are you, John Barr?” she asked out loud, wondering where he had gone, what he was doing, and whether she should follow. She had leaned back her head and closed her eyes, deciding to rest for just a second, when she heard a knock on the window of the passenger-side door. She sat straight up as her eyes flew open and instinctively grabbed the wheel.