The Martin Girls Are Missing

A True Story--Year 1966

 

"Come on Wendy let’s check out the beach." My eight-year-old sister followed me up the sand dune. I looked around and said:

  "The surf is flat, burr, it's cold too, we're not going to find anyone on the beach today."

"What do we do now?” Wendy asked as her blonde hair blew into her face.

"Let's go over to Mikes house and see what he's up to."

"Should we tell mom where we are going? Wendy Martin asked.

"No, she knows you're with me, it will be alright."

"Hay, there's Carol." Wendy said.

"Hi, Carol what's up?" Cynthia Martin inquired.

"Nothing, rotten day isn't it? Carol Prescott answered.

"Not as bad as last night, that was some storm. Our street has turned into a lake."

"It always does this when it rains...wait until you live here a couple years--this is nothing! My street is flooded too."

"Well I don't mind I love the rain. We were just about to go to Mikes house, want to come along. Doug Watson might be there..."

"Sure.” Carol giggled.

"Does Carol like Doug" Wendy asked.

"Look at her...and tell me.” Carols fair skin had turned bright red.

"Oh.” Wendy noted.

The Martin family (my family) lived on Hanover Lane we thought that was a cool name for a street, we dubbed it Hangover Lane.   Mike Wells lived on Pier Pont Ave our cross street. Pier Pont Ave is one of the busiest streets in Ventura county; not because a lot of people live there but because it is the main drag for the south end of the beach. Those lucky enough to have a driver's licenses like to cruise Pier Pont Ave to check out the girls and the guys. Carol and I liked being checked out and whistled at. But there was a down side to being admired and that is the rainy season. Carol said it will take us hours to get home from school because the cruise became splashier--wise guys. She said you have to duck down the side streets to keep from getting wet.

"I'm looking forward to that." I said.

"Oh, you'll get used to it, once you see someone else getting splashed.” Carol laughed.

"What's with the midget?” Carol asked as she looked at Wendy.

"My sister? Nothing I have to watch her today."

"Bummer."

"Pier Pont is as busy as ever."

"Yeah, and at this time of day...don't these people have a life?"

"Appears not."

Carol and I took hold of Wendy's hands and practically carried her across the busy street. 

"Look who's playing darts with Mike...Doug W-A-T-S-O-N--today is you're lucky day."

"Hi Mike, hi Doug." I said. While I watch Carol going flush in the face again.

"Hi Cynthia, Carol."

"I checked out the surf before coming over, it is flat as a pancake."

"Yeah, we know we looked at it earlier, we wont be surfing today." Mike answered.

"What's up? What is she doing with you?"

"Can I play darts?" Wendy asked Mike.

"Sure." He answered with a big grin on his face.

"I'll get the darts for you Wendy! Never walk on the shooting range, remember that." I walked up to the target and stooped down and pulled the darts out of the target.  When I turned around Mike threw another dart then I felt something hit my thigh. I didn't look down I walked up to Mike and said:

"Alright wise guy takes the clothespin off my leg."

"That's not a clothespin!  Cindy you’re bleeding!" Wendy yelled.

I looked down and saw the dart hanging from my upper thigh then I almost fainted. I gave Mike a dirty look and I pulled the dart out of my flesh.

"Why the hell did you do that? That was stupid!" Mike had no excuse it was another random act of teenage lameness.

"Do you have a first-aide kit? Or do I stand here and bleed to death?"

"Gee, I'm sorry, I guess my aim was off. Yeah, we...

"You guess."

"Have one, I'll be right back." Mike replied.

"I hope I don't get lock-jaw."

"That would be the day...the way you talk...lock-jaw doesn't stand a chance.” Mike teased.

"Watch your step big guy! Two can play at this game, how would you like a dart in the butt."

"Ouch...don't even think about it."

Mike ran into the house and got the first aid kit. He cleaned the puncture, and then stuck a round Band-Aid over the wound.

"I think you are going to live.” Mike smiled.

"Very funny."

Nothing to Do

"Looks like the sun is going to come out after all." Doug Watson observed.

"So what do we do now?"

"I don't know what do you want to do."

"I wish I could go to the fair." Cynthia said.

"Got any money?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, some, baby-sitting money, why?"

"Can't have fun at the fair without money my lady...your wish is my command."

At that moment, Mike stuck his thumb like a hitchhiker.  Carol and I went white as sheets. We had never hitchhike in our lives.

"What the hell are you doing? I cannot do that my mother would kill me! And with my luck she could drive by any minute!"  Cynthia said in a state of shock.

"Mine too.” Said Carol.

But it was too late, a lady pulled over and asked us where we wanted to go. Mike boldly told her "the fair". Then she said get in she would take us there, so we got into her car and then she scolded us for hitch-hiking and told us never to do it again. I felt awful since I had my baby sister with me but as we approached the fair that feeling went away. The lady stopped the car and said:

"I don't want you kids getting murdered by some crazy person. Don't hitch-hike again!"

We told her we would not and thanked her for the ride. 

"Get your tickets ready...here we go."

Once inside the fair everything became magical, look here, no look here, buy this, buy that, Carol and I were overwhelmed there were too many choices.

"Hay! Mike look at this!” I turned around and gasped.

"Hay! Where did the guys go?" I said to Carol.

"They went that way." Wendy pointed into a sea of people.

"That's strange. I wonder why they ditched us."

"It's because of Wendy, they didn't want to be seen with a little kid. It's un-cool." Carol answered.

"Well to hell with them, we don't need them to have fun."

So, we walked the fair, looked at everything, and then decided to go on some rides.  I went on two or three rides to Wendy's one, after all, it was my money we were spending.  Wendy didn't understand the logic and I didn't care.  When all of my money was gone reality tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hay! How are we going to get home?" I asked Carol.

"Gee, I never thought of that, some how I thought the guys would get us home.  I don't know, without the guys we are in deep do-do."

"I'll say...boy when I see Mike  again I am going to give him a piece of my mind!"

"Me too.” Said Carol.

We could not call our folks because we did not have permission to go to the fair, so that was out. We did not have a car or the guys, or bus fair, and it was getting late. What do we do? 

"God! What were we thinking, we should have declined the ladies offer for the ride... my mom is going to kill me!"

"My mom is going to put me on restriction for life!" Carol replied.

"My mom believes in capital punishment! I am going to die. My life as I know it ends today.” I said.

"So, what do we do?" Carol asked.

"We call your mom to come and get us and my mom never knows. You can take the fall."

"I think not.” Carol replied. "You call your mom."

"My mom would leave you here...looks like we walk. Maybe our Fairy God Mother will poof and rescue us."

Carol and I laughed at the absurdity of the comment.  "Looks like we accept our destiny and get on with it."

"We walk, let's take the beach that way no one will mess with us." 

"Good idea.” Carol said.

"Boy are you going to get it when you get home!"  Wendy said.

"Not if you don't tell I wont and you wont tell because it is un-cool to tell on people.  Right Carol?"

"Right, it's very un-cool to tell on someone.” Carol emphasizes.

Meanwhile, at the Martin house:

"Hi, Jim, where are the girls?” Muriel Martin asked as she sat down.

"They aren't here.” James Martin answered.

"What do you mean their not here? At this time of night!"

"They're not here. No one was home when I came home; that was hours ago." James Martin noted.

"I'll call Cynthia's friends.” Muriel went into the kitchen to use the phone. Moments later, she returned to the living room.

"The girls are nowhere to be found. Mrs. Prescott says Carol is not home either. I bet those girls are together I wish Cynthia would call. I am getting worried.”

"Now don't get excited Peanut, they are probably at another’s friends house."

"I'm going to look for them you stay here in case they call and I'll check in with you on the hour. Damn-it Cynthia where are you? When I get my hands on that girl she will wish she was never born!  Jim stay by the phone."

Muriel went out the door got in her car and hit the steering wheel with both of her hands:

"Where are you? I'm going to kill that girl!"

A Long Walk Home

The Fair Grounds was located next to the beach so we did not have to walk on any city streets to get to the beach. 

"How long of a walk do you think it is?" Carol asked.

"Oh, I don't know maybe an hour maybe more."

"I'm hungry." Wendy said.

"So am I." I said.  "You can eat when you get home.

"But I'm hungry now.” Wendy protested.

"I have a little money left, I'll buy her a candy bar.” Carol said.

"That's nice of you. Thank you."

"Wendy, now what are you going to tell mom about today?"

"That you hitchhiked to the fair and went on the rides and made me watch."

"Give me that candy bar! I snatched it out of her hands.  "Now here's what you are going to say: say we went to the fair and had a good time. Tell mom that Mike's mother gave us a ride to the fair, okay?"

"Okay."

"Here's your candy bar back."

"But you are still going to get it." Wendy warned.

"Yes I know that but not as bad if you stick to the story.  Do this one thing for me please?"

"Okay."

"Either way I'm probably going to get the worse beaten of my life.” I said with a voice of doom.

"Wendy, please don't tell on me."

"Yeah, Wendy telling on a person is so un-cool. You don't want to be un-cool do you?” Carol tried her hand at reconditioning Wendy thought process.

"No."

"Well, then."

Wendy said nothing, she just continued eating her candy bar. 

In the pit of my stomach I knew that the end of life was near and I wanted to die before my mom got her hands on me. I wanted to be adopted by Carol’s mom; I wanted to be anywhere except home! 

We could have ended our torment and hasten our execution with a phone call but we chose not to call--what we hoped for was a miracle. We got one too, the wrong kind, the weather took a turn for the worst and it started to rain lightly!

"Oh great! Just what I need, Wendy catching cold Carol if Wendy gets wet and sick I am really going to get it! You may never see me again! Hell, they may never find my body! I've got to do something and I've got to do it quick!"

"Is your mother as bad as all that?"

"Yes she is and then some. I have an idea."

I ran over to a trashcan and looked for something I could use--I found newspapers so I took them. With the newspapers, I made a paper canopy over my sister's head. I held two corners of the newspaper and Carol held the other two corners. Wendy walked under the canopy enjoying all the attention she was getting. 

"Carol?"

"What?"

"Do you feel as stupid as I do?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"At least it is dark and none of our friends can see us."

"Oh, that's comforting." We both laughed.

Then as suddenly as it started it stopped the rain clouds moved inland, the stars, and the moon showed them in the sky.     

"There's your miracle.” Carol said.

"If only that were true.” I answered. "Boy, am I going to get it." I kept saying with dread.

"So, am I, so am I.”? Carol repeated.

"I'm cold." Wendy said. I got more newspapers from another trashcan and stuck it up under Wendy's sweatshirt, front and back, then I tucked the shirt into her pants.

"How do you feel now?" I asked.

"I feel funny..."

"Are you getting warm now?"

"Yes."

"Okay then."

Home At Last

"Well, this is it the time of reckoning--I must face the guillotine. Remember your promise Wendy. It is un-cool to tell. Bye Carol, good luck with your mom."

"Thanks, you too."

Somehow I knew better, what I needed was another miracle.

I turned the doorknob and let Wendy enter first--then I went in. Before I could say a word Wendy spoke:

"We went to the fair, and Cynthia went on all the rides and made me watch, and all I got to eat was a candy bar--she also hitch-hiked!"

I could not believe my ears, my own flesh and blood giving me over to the enemy!

"Go to your room Cynthia and wait for your mother, we have been worried sick about you two!"

I was sick to my stomach now, the little traitor, nark, I hated my sister. Yet somewhere in my rage a little voice said you did this to yourself. Well I had, but she just made it worse! 

"Cindy kept the rain off of me with newspapers, she also put papers in my shirt to keep me warm."

"That's good." Dad replied. "At least she has some sense."

The Execution

I changed into something dry then I waited. Thirty minutes later mom was home; I saw her headlights reflect off my window. Oh, God, soon, I will die. Where is my miracle?

"Well are they...?"

"Mommy! Cindy went to the fair, she hitch-hiked, and made me watch when she went on the rides."

"Why didn't she call?"

"She was afraid to."

"Afraid to?” Muriel screamed:  "Jim I am so mad I will kill her if I touch her, you go in and give her a spanking." Muriel jaw twitched and she clenched both of her hands into fists. She exhaled, and relaxed,  "Wendy have you eaten?"

"Cindy bought me a candy bar.” Wendy followed mom into the kitchen so dad would be my executioner, this just keeps getting worse and worse. Now I knew that dad’s rage was worse then moms and that did not set well with me. 

In my room, I waited for the doorknob to turn in terror. Where is that miracle? Dad's massive six-foot frame soon entered my room. He closed the door behind him; there was no escape I am doomed. He slowly pulled his belt from his pants and approached me.

I know I will beg for mercy, it could work.

"No, dad, no! I will not do it again. I promise. Please do not hit me. Please!” I backed into the closet and almost fell as I stepped on my sister’s shoes. He moved closer to me. This must be how Quizy Motto felt. I thought.

Once more, I pleaded for lenience but nothing came of it. 

"No, dad, no!” Please do not hit me! I cried. Weren't you ever young?" I asked.

I got my miracle dad did not hit me instead he hit my mattress. It took me a couple of moments to realize what was happening-- then I started screaming bloody murder. Mother must have thought that I was really getting it. Yes, it was a miracle thank you God!  Thank you dad for being young once.

Dad turned from my bed without looking at me and left my room. I am going to live! I thought.

The next day I cleaned the house as usual then I sheepishly asked dad if I could go outside. He said yes. Out the door I went, I ran up the sand dune and saw Carol.

"Oh my god Cynthia what happened?" Carol shouted.

"Nothing short of a miracle.” I said. I told Carol everything. She screamed: "Oh my God! I don't believe it, your dad is so cool." We both laughed!

"You know what I learned from all of this."

“To call home next time?”

“No, I learned that little sisters can not be trusted.”

We laughed and Carol commented:  “Boy that’s the truth.”

"Next time I will just ask it is easier then being executed."

The End

Written By:  Cynthia Ellis Martin

Date: 02-27-2000

Edited: 12-04-2001

In memory of my father and Carol Prescott

Active Participants:

age 15  Cynthia Martin

age 8 Wendy Martin

Carol Prescott age 16
Mike Wells age 17

Doug Watson 16

(My mother)

(My father)

 Last Updated: 01/14/02