The Territory A Novel - By Tricia Fields Page 0,20
least half the names. Most were either affiliated with government or were well-known local liberals. Josie wondered what Bloster’s motivation was with the Gunners. It wasn’t unusual to collect guns; it was unusual, however, to view the people who were elected and hired to protect you as the enemy. Hack Bloster’s own boss was on the short list.
The last sheet in the book had the word “Friends” written across the top. She felt like she was in grade school again. Eighteen names, including Fallow’s and Bloster’s, were listed. She and Otto would begin interviews that afternoon.
Josie’s phone buzzed and she picked it up.
“Sauly Magson called,” Lou said. “Says he’s found a dead cow in the Rio. Says it’s hung up in a logjam outside his house.”
“Tell him to call Parks and Wildlife.”
“He claims its belly is packed full of cocaine.”
* * *
In 1976, Macon Drench purchased Artemis, Texas, the first of three ghost towns at the end of Farm Road 170 along the Rio Grande, for ten thousand dollars. Drench was an oil baron from Houston, disillusioned with the money and excesses in the city, and in search of a place to live connected to the land. He spent twenty million dollars of his own fortune and installed sewage and water lines, bartered with the phone and electric companies to stretch lines to a town that barely existed, outfitted a police department, built one pole barn to house the first grocery store, and another to serve as the town bank. Working with a city planner from Houston, he designed a central square and laid the downtown area in a grid with main streets leading strategically to major geological formations: the Chinati Mountains north of town and the Rio Grande and Mexico a direct route south. River Road, running parallel to the Rio Grande, was the only marked road that led directly into Artemis, and that was the appeal for Drench and most of the residents.
By 1985, Artemis had more than 1,500 residents. Drench invited family and friends to settle the area, promising nothing but a new experience. Word spread and a unique group of adventurers turned land most thought uninhabitable into a thriving community. Judicious use of water and organized supply runs had made the town a home for people running away from, or running to a new, life.
Sauly Magson was one of the original founders of Artemis. He was a scrawny bald man who typically wore a blue bandanna tied around his neck, a pair of grimy jean shorts, and nothing else. Most of the businesses in town ignored the No shirt, no shoes, no service rule with Sauly. When he had to wear shoes, he wore a pair of leather thongs that provided no more protection than the soles of his own feet. Sauly liked the psychedelics and spent much of his time in a state of wonder at the world around him, but he was as kindhearted as anyone Josie had ever met.
Sauly grew up in northern New Mexico, near the Taos Pueblo Indians in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Josie knew little about him other than that he ran away from home as a teenager and roamed New Mexico until 1976, when he met Drench. Sauly helped settle the area and was known locally as one of the willful independents that turned a windblown speck along the Mexican border into a town.
Josie found him on the edge of the river, about a quarter mile from his house. He lived in a three-story, square grain elevator that he converted himself with parts and pieces he dragged home from the dump or from construction sites he worked on. It was painted a deep purple that contrasted perfectly with the blue sky and desert. A series of fifteen windows appeared to be haphazardly installed over the four sides of the structure, but the satisfying visual effect made it clear that Sauly had an artist’s eye and a carpenter’s skills. She thought the scene looked to be somewhere between an Edward Hopper and a Georgia O’Keeffe painting.
“What’s up?” she called, smiling and waving when he realized she was walking toward him.
He rubbed his smooth head and smiled at her, revealing a handful of teeth. She noticed a small paunch in his wrinkled, dark brown belly, above his jean shorts.
“It’s the dangdest thing I ever seen. I’m straight as an arrow. I swear on my grave. I stared long and hard to prove it, and I’m telling you, that old heifer’s