I leaned back on the sofa and stared at the floor.
“I think I need to talk to someone about aliens abductions.”
She gave me an annoyed look. “Here we go with aliens again. You weren’t abducted, Ben. Just make the appointment. You’re not in a good state of mind. You need to get some help.”
The ringing in my ears started up again. I leaned forward and cupped put my hands around my face. “It’s not going to help. I need to know what has happened to me. I just need some time to figure it out.”
She shook her head. “Well, you can’t just sit around here all day reading and looking at UFO videos. You need to do something.”
I’d been pushed enough. “I don’t need this. I’m going out!” I headed for the door, grabbed my keys and jacket, and glanced back at her. She was red in the face, and her eyes were twitching with frustration.
“That’s great!” she yelled. “Go drink your problems away! That’s really going to go well!”
I opened the door. “I’m just going to get out for a bit. It’s no big deal. Don’t be such a shrew,” I said.
“Don’t be such an asshole!” she replied.
I flung her favorite word at her. “Whatever. I’m going.” I walked out, letting the door slam shut behind me.
I could hear her yelling from behind the door. “If you do that, you can sleep somewhere else tonight!”
“Fine! I will!”
I got down to Jonesy’s. I was fuming mad and needed a drink.
Brett was sitting at the bar. I sat beside him and ordered a shot of whiskey. I told him about my experience on my way back from Yakima and all of the strange symptoms that I’d been experiencing. I wasn’t worried about risking ridicule with him. He was a little crazy anyway, and I trusted him. I figured that just maybe he’d have some ideas for me.
“Occam’s Razor, man,” he said. “Maybe someone gave you some LSD in your food that night?”
“I had dinner with U.S. Congressman Young. He’s not going to put a roofie in my wine.”
Brett looked at his drink. “Never trust a politician.” He took a sip. “Ever see the movie Jacob’s Ladder? Trippy psychedelic shit. They really did BZ experiments in Vietnam, you know.”
I’d seen the movie and wasn’t buying the government conspiracy-inspired LSD trip.
“Something has definitely happened to me. I didn’t hit my head either. The insurance company told me that my car wasn’t that damaged when they found it, so that can’t be it.”
He sipped his beer, pondering what happened to me. “You smoke some bad weed?”
“No, not at all. I’m not taking any drugs.”
He took another sip. “There’s another explanation.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“A staged abduction. Like I was telling you, how do you really know that you aren’t part of some government experiment?”
At least I was interested. “How would I know?”
“Got to look at the evidence. Maybe you should talk to someone, maybe one of your UFO friends.”
I wasn’t buying the government experiment theory, but talking to a UFO expert was a possibility. Just then, I remembered the guy I had met in the hallway at the UFO convention in McMinnville—Jack Clark, the State of Washington MUFON Director. I still had his card in my wallet. He was local and would be interested in what I’d had to say.
Brett bought us a round of whiskey shots. We took them and slammed our empty glasses down on the bar. “How’s what’s her name taking all this?”
“Jennifer? She thinks I’m two cans short of a six pack. She doesn’t believe me at all.”
He leaned closer. “Just pretend you’re 100 percent sane. Show no signs of the weird stuff you are experiencing. That’s what I do.”
Wise advice from the relationship master. The thing was, I knew he was right.
“Yeah, but she’s pretty pissed off at me right now. I don’t think she is going to let me in tonight.”
“Sweet talk her, man. Say you are sorry. Get her a gift or something.”
He was right about that, too. I sent Jennifer a text on my new phone, telling her that I was sorry and that I wanted to come back home. She texted me back and said that she was in bed and that if I came back, I’d have to sleep on the couch. I told her that would be fine, and that I’d be there soon.
Just then, I noticed the icon for the iM4ET app on my home screen. I don’t remember downloading that, I thought. Once again, it downloaded automatically from the Cloud. I was too drunk to think any more about it and stumbled out onto the street. Brett followed me. That wind sock was flapping about outside of Jonesy’s, its skinny arms, long, tubular neck, and black eyes staring me down. I was paralyzed at the sight of it. A thought popped into my mind, and I found myself saying, “They are coming back for me.” Panic consumed me, but I couldn’t get myself to run. I dropped onto the concrete and crawled into a ball. My mind was flooded with the same thought. They are coming for me! They are coming for me! A few minutes later, hands were on me, pulling me up off of the concrete. It was Brett.
“Come on, man, I’ll get you home.”
10: Shrinked
Dr. Chu was at her desk. Plants and Asian lamps reflected from the lenses of her thick rimmed designer glasses.
“So what brings you in to see me, Ben?” Her voice was soft, and her face friendly.
I’d debated whether or not I should tell her about my abduction experience. I figured that she’d think that I was out to lunch and marbleless. My insurance was paying for the visit, and I didn’t see the need for that information to go on my medical record. I decided to keep it conventional.
“I’ve been having sleep problems—trouble falling asleep and nightmares. I’ve also had a very loud ringing in my ears for the past couple of weeks.”
She reviewed the health-screening questionnaire I’d completed in the waiting room. “Do you feel depressed?”
“No. I mean, I’m not feeling good, but I don’t have clinical depression or anything like that.”
“What about thoughts of harming yourself?”
“No, I’m not suicidal, if that is what you are asking.”
“You mention ringing in your ears. Have you been checked out for tinnitus?”
“It’s not that. The ringing is not normal, and I never had it before.”
She continued down the list, ruling out head injuries based on my history, and in 15 minutes had prescribed 50 milligrams of Zoloft plus a referral for outpatient counseling. She said to see her office assistant on the way out to book another appointment in three weeks, and that was it. I hadn’t expected more.
I made the follow-up appointment and stopped at a pharmacy down the street, then headed to Sumner, fighting mid-afternoon traffic all the way.
Jack Clark was sitting in the back of Starbucks. He smiled when he saw me and shook my hand. He was still wearing that hat. I sat down, and he opened up his laptop.
“Is this private? Do I have to give my name?” I asked.
“Well, we respect your privacy, Ben. We won’t give out any of your personal information. I just need to fill out this report. It shouldn’t take more than 45 minutes or so.”
“Okay. I just don’t want anything going in that will identify me, okay?”
“Sure, let’s proceed. What was the date of the event?”
“November 12th, Thursday.”
“Tell me where you were and what you were doing.”
“I was driving back from Yakima. It was evening. I’d just done an interview with U.S. Congressman Young about the cell phone tower controversy in Yakima County.”
“Congressman Young, uh huh.” He scribbled his name down.
“Is that important?” I asked with interest.
“Maybe. Keep going.”
“My smartphone started to buzz. It was Byrne’s Proxima Foundation app. It lit up on my phone like it had started up itself.”
His eyebrows rose. “I’m curious about this app. Can
I see it?”
“Sure,” I said, pulling my new phone out of my pocket and showing him the iM4ET app.
He looked it over. “Interesting,” he said, then handed it back to me. “Tell me what happened next.”
“I saw a light trailing me, then it disappeared, and then I was surrounded by light. Then it…”
“Hold on. Tell me more about the lights. What color? Size? Shape? In a formation?”
“Triangular, definitely triangular. It seemed pretty big.”
“How big would you say?”
“I don’t know. Forty of fifty feet across, maybe more.”
“Did it have color on its surface?”
“I’m not sure, it was dark. I couldn’t see the stars, so it had to have been solid.” I struggled to form the memory of what I had seen. “I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure it was one big object.”
“And it was flying in what direction?”
“Northeast.”
“Towards Mount Rainier, right? Not the only sighting over there.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
He smiled. “That’s near where Kenneth Arnold had his sighting back in 1947. Those were flying disks, according to Arnold, not a triangle UFO. Anyway, what did you think the object was when you first noticed it?”
“A helicopter, I guess.” I felt less certain now. “It happened so fast.”
“Can you describe your feelings during and after sighting the object?”
“I was freaked out, half paralyzed. Who wouldn’t be?”
“That’s common,” he said. “Anything happening to your vehicle at this point?”
“Yeah, it shut off. Everything went dead. Kind of like in the movie Close Encounters.”
“Any magnetism effects? Hair standing on end, that kind of thing?”
“Yes, definitely. And there was this buzzing sound that got louder. Then I must have blacked out. When I woke up, I was strapped down on a table. I couldn’t feel my arms or legs, then I noticed I was being watched by two figures.”
He kept reading off of the checklist on his screen. “Tell me more about these figures. Were they human-like? Ape-like? Reptile-like? Insect-like? Robotic? See-through apparition?”
“Definitely greys, but with smaller eyes and a ridge going from the forehead down to their nose. They were the ones that the Proxima Foundation people say they’ve been in contact with, but the ridge made them look meaner.”
Anxiety and fear began to creep over me. Jack must have noticed.
“You doing okay, Ben?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Other than the two beings you mentioned, were there any others? Anything or anyone else there with you?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Okay, I need to ask you a few difficult questions. It’s routine.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, ready for anything.
Jack looked at his screen again. “Did you experience any penetration during the experience. By penetration, I mean by a needle or other instrument, into the skin, mouth, nose, or any other orifice.”
A middle-aged woman at the table behind us overheard and looked at me. I glared back, and she returned to her café-mocha-slurping husband.
I spoke more softly. “I think something was inserted into my man part. What do you think they did that for?”
“That’s not uncommon,” Jack said. “Experimentation with human genetics and reproductive processes. What about marks on your body?”
I pulled up my shirt and let him inspect the six dots on my chest. “Have you seen this before?”
He leaned, squinting at it. “Well, what do we have here? It’s not uncommon to have some kind of mark after an abduction. Do you mind if I take a photo?”
“I guess,” I said, “just don’t get my face in it.”
“No problem.” He took a photo on his smartphone, then I put my shirt down. Jack made a few more entries on his laptop, then returned his attention to me.
“Just a couple more questions, Ben, and then we’ll be done. Are you on any antipsychotic medications?”
“No, not yet, anyway.”
“Has anyone ever told you that they thought that you were fantasy-prone?”
“Fantasy-prone? No.”
“Ben, I’d say that you have a very credible story here, at least as far as self-reported alien abductions go. I’ve been monitoring the national database. We’ve had a lot of similar cases over the past two years. We’ve also had more than 300 reported sightings in Washington this year alone, more than in any previous year. Once it was cigar-shaped and classic disc shapes, but now we are seeing more triangular ones like you described. Of course, I still think 90% of all the reports we get are either natural phenomena or bogus, but this increase in sightings is the highest we’ve ever seen in any one year. Something seems to be going on.”
“Can I see this data?”
“Well, anyone can look up the MUFON national data base. You can access it on our website.”
“What about radar? Do you have any way to tell if any tracked objects are a spaceship or helicopter?”
“Yes, I have a friend with the FAA. They’ve tightened up quite a bit, but I can probably still get it. I’ll look into it and let you know what I find out. It could take a couple weeks.”
I exhaled out of frustration. I was hoping for immediate answers. “Do you think I was abducted by aliens or could it have been faked?”
“I can’t say for sure, Ben, just be patient. We’ll look at the data objectively.”
I nodded. “So what about Congressman Young? You seemed to suggest that my meeting with him was important.”
“He serves on the House Strategic Forces Committee, and is one of the supporters for the new Space Force. It is kind of odd that you meet with him and then have an abduction experience.”
“Do you think that the Congressman has something to do with it? Like a secret program or something?”
“If there are secret programs, I’d suspect he’d know. But then again, it’s all so compartmentalized in government, who the hell knows? Best thing for you now is to document everything that’s happened to you.”
I still wasn’t satisfied. “Who would know more about this?”
“Well, there’s Daniel Byrne. I’d suggest him, but I’m sure you’re one of the last people on Earth he wants to talk to.”
“He probably wants to kill me.”
“I could see why, but it may be worth a try. You never said who was your source for the tip on the Byrne hoax. Any idea?”
“I have no idea. I suspected it was someone who worked for him, maybe in the past.”
“Drone with flares, yeah, I could see how that could be used to fake a sighting. But you yourself said that two flares is not what you saw on the sighting event you went on. Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure that Byrne was behind the hoax?”
“What are you saying? Byrne’s events aren’t a hoax?”
“I don’t know, Ben. I’ve seen just about every possible hoax there is in this job. I get crackheads calling me up all the time. People see airplanes with the navigation lights on, and it’s an alien invasion. Drones are so common these days, and with people flying them at night, it’s easy to fool people.”
“What about you, Jack? Do you think we’re being visited by aliens?”
“I’ve never even seen a UFO.” He smiled. “Not even once. I hope to see one before I die.”
“What should I do next?”
“Write it all down. Make a record of all of what you went through before you start forgetting things and people you talk to change how you remember it. You’re a journalist; this will be easy for you. Then I’d talk to some experts. You know, there is a support group for alien abductees in the Seattle area. I know it sounds wonky, but a friend of mine runs the group. He’s a psychologist named Jeff Swanson. The group meets once a week.”
I was skeptical. “Are the people who go to it…normal?”
Jack s
miled. “They have all had experiences similar to yours. You can always try it. If you don’t like it, leave.”
“Okay, maybe I will.”
“It won’t hurt.” He wrote down the group’s website information on one of his cards. “I’ll be in touch soon, hopefully with some information from my FAA contact.”
I thanked him, and we parted ways.
I felt better after talking with him. Jack seemed like someone I could trust with my personal information, and he was a skeptic but still knowledgeable and accepting of abductee experiences. That made me trust him even more.
On my way home, I picked up a carton of Jennifer’s favorite gelato and scones from the bakery down the street. I found her sitting on the sofa. Her eyes were red from crying.
“How did it go?” she asked. I could tell by her tone that she was trying to hide her emotions.
“She gave me candy,” I said.
Jennifer watched me as I set the drugs on the kitchen counter.
“Was it helpful?”
“All she did was give me drugs and a referral to a counselor, if you call that helpful.”
“Did you tell her everything, I mean, about the UFO thing?”
“I told her about my symptoms. No, I didn’t tell her the back story. But I did learn about a group, and I may go to it.”
“A group? What kind of group?”
“A support group for people who have had experiences like mine.”
She looked at me deadpan. “You mean for people who think they’ve been abducted by aliens? Sounds like a bunch of crazies,” she mumbled.
“It’s a therapy group led by a psychologist. He’s supposed to be pretty good. Why can’t you support me on this?”
“I do support you, Ben. I just think…”
I was getting irritated. “What?”
“Nothing. Go to the group. I hope it works for you.”
I finished setting up my laptop while she continued. “Don’t forget, we’ve got the Fourth of July party this week. Let’s not screw this up, okay?”
“Yeah, why would I screw it up?”
“Just take your medications,” Tears were streaming down her face, “I want to get back to normal.”
The Goldilocks Zone Page 9