Samantha Runnion

Posted on July 19, 2002 in California Watch

They found the little girl not far from where I live, in the Cleveland National Forest, dumped in the chaparral.

Yesterday when I left the house to get my afternoon cup of coffee, one of my neighbors was preparing to drive off to work. Her son, who is maybe two or three, stood next to her car. “Bye. Bye,” he dripped as he waved to her. For a moment I misunderstood him and waved. He took it in stride. “Hi. Hi. Hi,” he said and then looked again to his mother. “Bye. Bye. Bye.” “You’d better get home little guy!” I said, thinking it just a little odd that he was going to be left in a moment without his father to walk him back to his condo. I waved to the mother and walked on to my truck. It took me a minute to get there. As I unlocked the door, the mother came around the corner and stopped behind me. She looked for a long time down the lane towards her condo. I got in my truck, gingerly pulled out, and waited for her to breathe in relief as the boy made it home to Daddy.

We both turned right onto Ridgeline at the development’s entrance. Then, I made a left on Saddleback Ranch and she proceeded straight.

Arrest story

Just before I went to bed, I read a few chapters of Joyce Carol Oates’ Them. The little boy describes the news of his neighborhood as told to him by an older girl. There were things that didn’t make the papers, the girl tells him, and she relates the murder of two twin girls. One is killed instantly. The other runs from the killer, leaving a trail of blood down the sidewalk. The Runnion story is an old one, it seems, as old as human lust and panic.