On the way back on the train I got a call from Jack Clark. “I’ve got some news for you, Ben,” he said excitedly. “I talked to my friend over at FAA. He sent me the logs and some screen shots from the radar data from the day and night of your abduction in June. There were definitely some anomalies that evening, in and around where you said the abduction experience took place. This is very interesting.”
“Really? What exactly?”
“Well, there was an interesting hit of a large object that flew in from the northeast. It was big, maybe the size of a 747, only it was moving too slow to be fixed wing. I asked my contact for the data before and after the event. This is where it gets strange. He said the data leading up to and after the date you had your experience was missing.”
“Missing? Like someone deleted it?” My mind went straight to a cover-up.
“I’ve seen patterns like this before, where FAA radar data gets censored. Usually, it’s because of military exercises in the area. That could explain some of this.”
“Well, what do you think? Was it an alien craft or the military?”
“I think this data is inconclusive. I’ll see what else I can find out. I’ll call you when I learn something.”
Inconclusive. Interesting, I thought.
I got home late. Jennifer has just started her bath when I told her about what I had learned from Jack Clark.
“So what?” she said, as she headed into the bathroom and turned on the water. “I don’t know why this is important.”
I stood in the doorway, annoyed by her lack of understanding about the importance to me. “It’s hard evidence that there was something big in the sky that night. It proves it wasn’t in my head.”
“It doesn’t prove anything, Ben.” She threw off her robe and got into the tub. “You said there was missing radar data or whatever.”
“Yeah, but not the night it happened. Whatever was in the sky wasn’t normal.”
“Could have been a blimp or a flock of geese, couldn’t it?”
“It wasn’t a blimp or geese. Jesus, Jennifer.”
She turned the water off. “Don’t forget we are going to my parents for the 4th. I’m expecting you to be normal. Will you be normal?”
“Yeah, I’ll be normal.” I said. I knew the engagement party get together was important for her and us. Our parents had met the previous summer when mine came out to visit on their summer vacation. We’d gone out to eat at a restaurant on the waterfront. The entire day was an embarrassing and nerve-racking experience for me.
“I picked out some dishes. Let’s finish up the registry tomorrow, okay?” she said from behind her Vanity Fair magazine. “And close the door, will you? There’s a draft.”
“Sure,” I said, leaving her alone. The wedding planning pressure was driving me almost as insane as the ringing in my ears and the phantom orbs at night. I just wanted it all to be over.
13: Breakdown
My mom and stepdad flew in from Spokane for the Fourth of July weekend. Jennifer and I picked them up at the airport and took them to a hotel in downtown Seattle. My mother was concerned about the dark bags under my eyes and asked me about my sleep. I reassured her that I was okay, just overworked. I still hadn’t told my parents about my abduction experience, and I wasn’t planning to.
In the morning, Jennifer drove the four of us to her parents’ place in Bellevue, whispering to me before we got out of the car, “You look like shit. And why didn’t you shave today?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. The truth was the ringing in my ears had increased in pitch and amplitude that morning, and I was hearing it now over ambient sound.
“Let’s be normal, okay?” she said.
“Whatever,” I said. Was she worried I was going to play with my potato salad like in the scene in Close Encounters of the Third Kind when Richard Dreyfuss’s character was playing with his mashed potatoes? Was she afraid that I was going to embarrass her in front of her family? Probably.
Jennifer’s mom met us at the door, and after hellos and hugs, we headed to the backyard where everyone gathered by the pool. A large tent was set up over a couple tables. A Mariners and Padres baseball game was on a large TV screen set into an outside gas fireplace. My step-dad and I made drinks and we sat to watch the game while Jennifer’s dad tended the grill. Jennifer’s brother Bradley was there too. He was into finance, a jock type. I didn’t like him that much and got the sense that he didn’t like me either. When we shook hands, he squeezed mine tightly so I wouldn’t forget who the alpha was.
I sat in one of the lawn chairs and had half the whiskey and Coke gone before the end of the first commercial break. The game was in San Diego, and the announcers went on and on about the lineup. The camera went to a shot from high above the stadium.
“We’ve got the blimp flying overhead, Jim,” said one of the announcers. “Some people out there might think we’ve got a UFO over San Diego.” The announcers chuckled. “Hopefully our little green friends won’t abduct the pitcher.”
The other announcer chuckled back. “Maybe they’re coming for the Gatorade, Jim.”
Bradley laughed and looked over at me. “Maybe they’re coming to get you,” he said, smirking.
I looked away. Apparently, word had gotten to Jennifer’s entire family about my abduction experience.
I got myself another drink and after a few minutes my mother came over to check on me.
“Are you okay, Ben?”
“I’m just fine,” I said.
“Leave him alone,” my step-dad said, “let the man relax.”
I could hear my mom and my future mother in-law talking about me from across the lawn. Jennifer came over a minute later and saw that I had a fresh drink in my hand.
“Can I talk with you for a minute?” she said softy.
I knew what was coming. I got up without saying a word, and she led me behind the cabana where we were out of sight.
She whispered loudly, gritting her teeth. “What are you doing? Are you getting drunk? We’re supposed to be celebrating our engagement and enjoying being with our families. Get yourself together!”
She reached for my glass, and I pulled it away from her. “Chill, Jennifer. What’s the big deal? I’m just having a drink with family.”
“You’re not supposed to be drinking with your medication. Did you take your medication today?”
“Yeah, I took it.”
“Jesus, Ben, just try to be normal, okay?”
“Everything is fine.” I said, wanting her to leave me alone.
Ten minutes later, Jennifer’s dad served up the burgers and hotdogs. Everyone took their seat at the tables set up by poolside. I sat next to Jennifer. Bowls of salad and sides arrived from the kitchen, and we began to spread the plates around, talking as we ate. When the main course was finished, it was champaign and desert time. In front of me was an apple cobbler, the scent of cinnamon wafting up from it. Anxiety rushed through me. I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I kept staring at the plate while Jennifer’s father gave a toast.
“To our future family,” he said.
Jennifer had a huge smile across her face. She glanced at me, and kicked my shin under the table to get my attention. Everyone raised Jennifer’s mom’s fine crystal and drank, but I couldn’t stop staring at the cobbler. The ringing in my ears had increased in frequency and with more intensity. I could feel the eyes of everyone on me. My mother’s voice kept saying, “Ben? Ben? What’s wrong? Ben?”
I had my elbows up on the table now, my hands over my ears.
Then I heard another voice: We will be back for you.—the same metallic voice I’d heard during the abduction coming from inside my skull. My heart began raced and panic swept over me. Was it the greys? Were they about to take me again? I just wanted to get out of there. I should hide somewhere they wouldn’t find me, but where?
I heard my mother’s voice again. “Who, Ben? Who will be back?”
“The greys! They are fucking coming to get me! I
’ve got to get out of here!” I was speaking aloud, but I could not control my speech, nor could I control my bodily functions all that well, either. I vomited over my plate of food and onto Jennifer’s thigh. I could feel my bowels suddenly give out, causing me to shit myself. I could hear Jennifer’s mother scream.
I stood up, knowing that I needed to get out of there.
Jennifer stood up, too. She had the look of terror in her face. I pushed her out of my way, causing her to fall backwards onto the floor.
“Hey!” yelled Bradley, as he got up from his seat. “Don’t touch my sister!”
I ran through the house to the front door, struggled to get it open, ran out into the yard, and ran to Jennifer’s car. It was locked. Bradley caught up and shoved me from behind, nearly causing me to fall face forward onto the driveway.
“Hey asshole! What do you think you are doing?”
I turned and faced him. “Fuck off!” I said.
He shoved me again, the palms of his hands landing on my chest and throwing me backwards onto the grass. I could hear the others screaming and yelling. I curled up on the ground in the fetal position. Bradley stood over me.
Jennifer’s mother was yelling. “Bradley, no!”
“Fucking UFO freak!”
I must have blacked out because I don’t remember anything until two Bellevue police officers were standing over me. An ambulance showed up a few minutes later. My mother’s voice was trying to calm me down. I cried, lying on my fiancée’s parents’ front lawn, on the Fourth of July, my pants soiled from my own shit.
14: Nervous Breakthrough
Jennifer didn’t want to press charges, but the State of Washington has mandatory arrest laws for domestic violence. My mother had pleaded with the police to let me go to the hospital instead. The police did take me to ER, in handcuffs. Jennifer had to go to another ER for a broken wrist. I was then checked out of the hospital and taken to jail, where I had to sit in a cell for three days. My parents stayed in town through the holiday weekend, but had to return home on account of their jobs. My mother told me that I just needed a break, it was just a hiccup, she said, I’d be okay. I wasn’t so sure.
I was given the option to either stay and face the charges or seek voluntary inpatient psychiatric treatment at Harbor View Medical Center in Seattle. I chose the latter. My first day, I went to a compulsory group therapy session where I was forced to listen to people talk about their coping skills. Otherwise, I slept. They gave me a neurological work-up and told me that it checked out normal. I was diagnosed with psychotic episode, unspecified, likely triggered by stress. A nervous breakdown. I was discharged from the hospital three days later with another prescription for psychiatric meds.
I called Jennifer and told her that I was coming home. She told me that she would be there. When I got back to the apartment, my belongings were out of my dresser and closet and stuffed in several black garbage bags and my suitcase, my books in three cardboard boxes, along with my laptop. Jennifer was sitting on the couch, her wrist wrapped.
I stared at my stuff, then looked at her. “What’s going on, Jennifer?”
“It’s over, Ben, I can’t do this anymore.”
I sat down on one end of the sofa and faced her. “Do what?”
“Jesus, Ben, you broke my wrist. I don’t want to get married.”
I noticed then that she wasn’t wearing the engagement ring. She pulled it from a drawer and set it on the coffee table.
She started to cry. “I can’t do this…crazy stuff…this alien stuff.”
She had never understood. “God damn it, I can’t control what’s happened to me. They did this to me!”
She continued crying.
I grabbed the ring, thinking that I’d end up hawking it somewhere for cash. “Fuck you, Jennifer.”
“Just go, okay?”
“Fine. I’ll go!”
I then threw my stuff out into the hallway outside the apartment, then loaded up my Jetta and called Brett to ask him if I could crash at his place for a couple of days until I figured out what to do next. He agreed.
Brett and I talked that night.
“She wasn’t the one for you, man. Have a drink, it’ll make you feel better.”
We finished off a bottle of whiskey.
I pulled myself together and went into the Hot Reports offices in the morning. Marcus called me into his office first thing and had me sit down.
“Ben, this is one of the worst things that I have to so as an editor in chief. I’ve got to let you go.”
“What? Why?”
He slid a printed page across his desk. It was an article from Channel 5 News Missoula website that read: “Local Teenagers Admit to UFO Hoax.” I read it quickly. Apparently, two 16-year-old boys had come forward to claim responsibility for several UFO sightings in the Missoula area, including the one I wrote about in my article.
“Looks like you missed something important,” Marcus said. “Not what we want to happen.”
As I processed the new information, I knew I was in journalistic trouble. “This is bullshit. I saw two men in an Explorer. We’ve got video. You saw the video!”
“I’ve looked at the video several times. Could be anyone. Could be those boys, they are old enough to drive.”
“I know what I saw.”
He exhaled. “Do you know how this makes our magazine look? We could be sued for journalistic malpractice and defamation. Jesus, Ben, we can’t afford this. Hot Reports is hanging by a thread. This could ruin us.”
I was speechless.
“Regardless,” Marcus said, “you’ve left me with no choice but to give the cell phone tower story to someone else.”
“Why? It’s my story? I’m still working on it. I’ll do a retraction story on the Proxima Foundation, but please don’t take this story from me,” I pleaded.
“A retraction is out of the question. I gave you three weeks on the cell tower story and it’s been six. I’ve got to let you go. I need you out of here today.”
I stood up. “Whatever.” I exited his office, humiliated and furious. I went over to my desk to pack my things and found a box on the floor with my name on it: Marcus already had someone clean out my desk. I grabbed it and went out to my car, set the box on the trunk while I fumbled for my keys. The box slid off the trunk, all my belongings scattered with the note from Nadine Byrne on the very top. I picked everything up and threw it all into the backseat, then I went to Jonesy’s and threw back three or four drinks. My life was over.
Brett showed up a few minutes after five. “Another day, another dollar,” he said eagerly as he sat on the bar stool next to me.
“Not for me. Marcus fired me today.” I told him about the article.
“Marcus sounds like a real cunt. First round is on me,” Brett said.
We did a round of tequila shots.
I told him about my conversations with Jack Clark.
Brett set his glass down. “Maybe there’s a link between what happened to you and the aunt of that hottie waitress. What’s her name?”
“Brenda. Why do you say that?”
“Seems like too much to be all coincidences, don’t you think? You should call her. You’re single now, anyway.” He reached for my cell phone. “Here, give me the phone, I’ll call her.”
I moved it away from him. “No way. I’ll call her later.”
He leaned closer to me. “Just be careful. The government’s not going to like it if you know too much. Bad shit happens to people.”
“Like the bad shit that’s happening to me lately?” I said it flippantly, but began to wonder. Ever since I’d written the UFO hoax story…
He took another slug of his beer. “So what are you going to do, man?”
“I need answers. I can’t go on like this forever. Maybe I should go talk with Daniel Byrne. He might be able to help me. What do you think?”
“Maybe. Just be careful.”
“Careful about what exactly?”
“Dude, d
id you hear about that guy in Texas who was kidnapping people, wearing an alien mask, and butt-raping them?”
“Yeah, so?”
“You better watch out, just saying. It could get worse.”
I chuckled and we threw back one more round. Brett may have been joking around with me, but I knew he was serious about his concerns with the government. Considering Jack’s strange FAA data, someone in the government, the military or NASA most likely, had to know something about what happened on the ridge in Yakima. Who knows? Maybe Daniel would have some answers or at least know how I could get them.
Later that evening at Brett’s, I sent an email to Daniel apologizing for the article and that I was hoping he’d be willing to talk to me about some events I’d been experiencing.
Right on cue, my headache returned. I took some pills and finally managed to doze off.
In the morning, Nadine Byrne called. Her voice was warm and calm.
“We received your message, Ben. Why don’t you come out to the ranch and visit us?”
“I could be out there on Saturday. Are you sure that it’s all right? Is Daniel okay with it?”
“Yes, he’s looking forward to talking with you. We’ll see you on Saturday.”
Late the next morning, I loaded all of my worldly possessions into the back of my Jetta, and headed east on 90.
15: Nondisclosure
Nadine opened the door. “Hello Ben. It’s nice to see you again. Please come in.” She was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans, and her long, cornsilk hair was tied back in a ponytail. “Daniel’s out back working on his new book. He’s waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Nadine” I said, stepping through the doorway and walking through the house to the back porch. Daniel was in a wooden Adirondack chair, reading Dolan and Zabel’s A.D. After Disclosure: The People's Guide to Life After Contact. A notebook and a mug of hot tea were on the table next to him.
He tilted his reading glasses to look at me and in a tranquil voice said, “Hello again, have a seat. Join me.”
The Goldilocks Zone Page 11