At about 1:00 AM on December 5, Barbara’s friends drove her to her home after dinner and drinks. She got out of the vehicle, and they watched her enter her residence.
Three of four roommates were in their rooms sleeping. None of them hear anything unusual during the night.
In the morning, Bill told his roommates that Barbara left him. He told them that she came home drunk from the bar and that she packed a bag and left with one of the Czech surfers who was an old boyfriend of hers. He said that they got on the bus to San Jose, headed for the Caribbean coast. Everyone was stunned and confused, but nobody wanted to ask nosy questions.
Barbara’s spirit was free by this time, but it is reasonable to believe that her body was in her closet with her clothes.
Bill went to work at a tour office that day. The friend who had plans to meet Barbara at the beach noticed him there. She stopped by to say hello, and mentioned to Bill that she had plans to meet Barbara later. Bill replied that she won’t be seeing Barbara, because Barbara had gotten drunk with her friends the night before, and they left to travel to Limon (Caribbean coast). Barbara’s friend thought this sounded odd, but hoped Barbara was having a fun, spontaneous trip.
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I don’t know why your telling of her story has caught me so deeply. Perhaps it’s the honesty in your telling, the way you explore your own shock and grief while holding on to your desire for justice and truth. The way you keep her present in your telling. Wishing you peace and comfort in your time of grieving again, of re-exploring the story.
Thank you, Beth. Barbara disappeared a few weeks after my husband and I moved away. It was the strangest, most horrible thing. No one imagined that her life might have been taken; no one even looked for her for weeks. The only thing we can do for Barbara now is remember her. And when our girlfriends take odd, uncharacteristic trips without telling anyone, freak out immediately.