She seemed determined to pursue her plans but remained vague about the details involved. I hoped that she would stay in touch or possibly even return someday. Despite her obvious independence and resourcefulness she had a sense of vulnerability about her, something which indicated that she felt very alone. Her lack of family, close friends, or even a job where anyone knew her real name made her a missing person long before she ever went missing. For a few weeks after her departure she phoned sporadically and discussed her latest experiences in the new city. Eventually the calls stopped. Years passed. Her presence loomed larger and larger in my mind, especially as my health began to fail. I made a pilgrimmage of sorts to the West Coast. In my wallet I carried an old piece of paper on which, during a late-night conversation, I had scribbled the name of a building and a street address. Upon arrival the structure looked just as I had come to envision it, dreary and forbidding. An old man returning from a nearby convenience store regarded me with suspicion. His eyes widened when I began describing the rather nebulous purpose of my visit. The information had a visceral effect on him. Silence descended while he tried to compose himself. I turned my gaze elsewhere as he struggled, not really seeing my surroundings. "Always had a feeling that someday someone would come looking for her.." he said at last. Tears sprang to his eyes. "Damn shame what happened to that girl.. Damned shame.. "
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