by Unknown
But I had heard enough. Her babbling made no sense. I figured she had some serious mental issues.
I started reading and researching mental illness. Suddenly, the puzzle started coming together. Everything I read indicated she may be suffering from a schizoaffective disorder. Schizoaffective symptoms include delusions, hallucinations, grossly disorganized or catatonic behavior, and negative symptoms. To make matters worse, I read it was heredity. Wow! How could one bad gene cause so much trauma in a person’s life?
I tried persuading her to see a shrink, but she was convinced nothing was wrong with her and that she was one of a few who knew the real truth.
This got me thinking. What if she knew something the rest of us didn’t want to believe? So what if Claudia had discovered the truth? Were the rest of us fooled and living in the dark? What if there really were abductions? What if they aren’t a hoax as governments want us to believe? It really didn’t take much for them to convince the majority of the public that those who claimed to be abducted were fanatics. After all, how many of us would diet and abstain from sex to find out?
What if it were true, and I was abducted along with her, as she suspected, on that 20-mile scenic drive in Carmel when we were on our honeymoon? Would it have been the first time? What if there is a connection with the weird dreams I had been having?
This made me wonder what really happened that night in 1960 when I had the car accident. The bright light, the crash, still sitting behind the steering wheel, gone for three hours and then finding my underwear on inside out? What about the blood in my semen? My improved eye sight? Why did my school grades suddenly improve? Was it the Navy that changed my personality? How did I get so much better at sports and pick up Morse Code so easily?
To say the least, this was freaking me out. My mind was racing faster than a Daytona 500 pace car. Could it really be true? The thought alone was provocative. It was inconceivable, but how else could the sequence of events be explained?
Originally, the government had convinced the public that UFOs and abductions were all a hoax. Then, in April 2011, while I was writing my memoirs, the FBI released a ‘memo’ that had been censored for years. This memo supposedly proved that aliens (or what they thought were aliens) did land in Roswell, New Mexico, in 1947, and that there was a big government cover-up.
The FBI investigator had stated that three so-called flying saucers had crashed. Each saucer was occupied by three bodies of human shape but only about three to four feet in height. They were dressed in a gray metallic cloth of very fine texture not yet known to man. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I recollected seeing something similar to what he had described.
The investigator was then assigned another position in the agency, shipped off across the country, and told to zip it. If you don’t believe me, check it out on the internet.
The story of Roswell was again shrugged off by most of the public. Have we been brainwashed to the point that no matter the proof, it can’t be believed? Where do the facts start and the fiction end or vice versa?
There is a lot of indisputable proof, but most people still believe it is fabricated. Why? Think about it. World governments can’t have people knowing or believing that stuff. It would totally disrupt human history. They know that people usually are not concerned with matters that don’t directly involve or affect their individual lives. So, they can get away with claiming abductees are just fanatics seeking attention.
Then one evening not long afterwards, out of boredom, I happened to watch a rerun of Spielberg’s movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I’ll be darned if I didn’t become fascinated with UFOs like the main character in the movie. I must have watched it at least ten times over the next few days. The movie must have triggered something in my subconscious because I had another peculiar dream.
*****
But why would they not? Monroe’s thought was loud in my head. You are my grandfather, after all. Why would they not accept you on the Council?
“But I’m not like you folks. You’re so evolved. And to be one of the Seven is a tremendous responsibility. I mean, hell, Monroe, governing the seven Domes? I’d be the first original to do it. How will that go down?”
Yes, I understand your concerns. You have a lot to learn, but I envision no impediment. I shall introduce you to the people. I will call a gathering for tomorrow.
I spent a restless night worrying about the meeting the following day. I couldn’t see how being a President of my Hodge Park Senior Golf League would qualify me for a position on their Council.
I could see the Dome Square out of the window. We were on the second floor of the equivalent to the town hall. The Square was shoulder to shoulder with beings. Dang, if they didn’t look like Spielberg’s aliens. All dressed in the same metallic gray outfits. All looking like Monroe. A few beings like me stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd.
Are you ready? Monroe held his three-fingered hand out to me. He waved his hand over a globe-like instrument and the front of the building opened and a platform extended out over the Square.
“I was born ready,” I replied, a bit reluctantly.
We walked out. I felt conspicuous standing a foot taller than Monroe, who at 60 inches was the average height for a male here in the future.
Monroe cleared his mind and projected to the gathering, I wish to introduce my grandfather. He has traveled through time to be here and is assisting with the quest to save the human race. I have determined that he is a fit candidate for the Council of Seven. Tom. He stepped back to allow me center stage.
My throat went dry. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I felt like I was going to pass out. Then I woke up.
*****
I eventually brushed aside CJ’s claims and the exotic dreams. There was just too many other things happening in my life that I needed to focus on.
CHAPTER FOUR
Three Times a Charm
Being single and a born-again Christian caused me some complicated conflict within myself. It was putting a huge dent in my love life. I made a lot of friends at SAF, mostly women. I tried to keep the relationships platonic. Really, I did, but hey, what’s a middle aged healthy male supposed to do? It was a constant struggle between right and wrong.
Lark became one of my best friends. She was about ten years younger than me, but we had a connection that was hard to explain. She had two younger kids and with the problems I was having with mine, no way I wanted to take on two more, especially being that much younger. So for a long time, we kept our relationship platonic.
I took a date one night to a SAF Valentine dinner. During dinner Lark came up behind me and whispered in my ear, “Tom, please stop by my house after you drop off your date. I have something important to discuss with you.”
“Sure,” I replied, wondering what that might be.
When I stopped by later that night, she told me, “It really upset me to see you with another woman. It made me realize that my feelings for you are much more than just being friends.”
She put her arms around me and gave me a hug that took my breath away.
Now, I’d been being a saint for a while so the hug and the scent of her perfume put a charge in my emotions.
That ended that platonic relationship. ‘Friends with benefits’ is the colloquial for it. But I was reluctant to make a deeper commitment to her. Even after she sent her kids to live with their dad. I don’t know why to this day. Our relationship would be on-again and off-again for a couple of years. She was always there when I needed a shoulder. In hindsight, I realized that she would have been ideal for me at that stage of my life. Would someone please kick me in the butt?
During one of Lark’s and I off time, I met Mary. She was quite contrary, attractive, and very assertive. We met at a singles function. I looked at her name tag and realized we had something in common. Her last name rhymed with mine.
“Hey, let’s have a hay day!” I said, flashing her a Casanova smile.
Corny, huh, bu
t it sparked a connection, ’cause we hit it off right from the start. She made it obvious that she wasn’t interested in having a platonic relationship.
That weekend we rode together to a church retreat. Sweet mother, if she didn’t pull me into the back seat on the way home. I was trying, really I was, to keep things platonic, but she was a most aggressive woman. I just didn’t have the willpower to resist her. She had her hands all over me as she franticly helped me out of my jeans. This gal was hot to trot. She must have had this planned all along, because she wasn’t wearing any panties under her skirt.
“You know, we shouldn’t be doing this,” I reminded her.
“Shush,” she replied, placing her lips to mine and sticking her tongue down my throat.
Here we were, two adults, in our forties, making out in the back seat of a car like a couple of teenagers. I must admit, it was fun as it took me back to my youthful days.
Another ‘friend with benefits’. But this one was short. Like I said, it’s difficult being a single Christian. Guilty feelings were always getting in the way.
Then there was Jane. We were never more than friends for a long time. She was a barrel of fun to be around. She would always have me laughing. She was older than me by a couple of years.
Then suddenly, somehow, the ‘friends with benefits’ kicked into play. Like I said, it wasn’t easy being a single celibate Christian, especially when you are in the prime time of your life.
*****
I was gallivanting around the globe in a flying saucer, piloted by a familiar alien being.
I called out to him, “Hey, Monroe, which city are we visiting next?”
We had been visiting several futuristic looking Domed cities. There was one on each of Earth’s continents. There were both aliens and human beings living together inside the Domes. One Dome would have Latino humans. Another would be Asian type humans, while another had European type humans, etc. The aliens all looked the same.
Apparently, Monroe wasn’t paying attention to my thoughts, as he didn’t respond right away.
I was about to repeat my question when he raised his hand for me to keep silent.
Sorry, I had to make a correction to our course. We are approaching the Asian subcontinent.
Hot damn. Odds are I would have me a long black hair cutie, with almond-shaped eyes, and a petite figure.
Monroe had been escorting me to different Dome cites to meet women in a coffee shop type atmosphere, where we would get acquainted. It was much like meeting someone for a date; only this date was for the purpose of procreation.
After it was determined she was pregnant, I would move on to the next Dome. There were some hot steamy nights that would make a romance novel sweat.
This particular visit was slightly different. I was escorted to a hotel type room and told a female was waiting inside. There would be no formalities on this date.
In the dimly lit room, I could barely make out a stark naked women lying on a bed. When my eyes adjusted, I could see her becoming aroused as she was playing with herself. I undressed and laid beside her, “Hi. I’m…”
“No talking. Just do it,” she demanded while spreading her legs wider.
It was Wham-Bam…thank you, Madame.
But when I rose to leave, she grabbed and pulled me back on top of her.
“I didn’t say you could leave yet,” she whispered, as she flipped me over on my back and climbed aboard.
Needless to say, the quickest of all quickies turned into an all-nighter. :)
*****
These dreams weren’t helping my self-composure none. I awoke from this dream hard as a rock. The exotic dreams lasted for several years. They abruptly stopped when I remarried.
I’d been beating the bushes (some people might call it playing around) for the last 13 out of 15 years. That, plus having a very difficult time with this celibate thing, gave me the desire to get married again.
I was thinking I couldn’t keep this up. I was getting mighty tired of feeling a gutful of sin and guilt, so I got down on my knees and had a heart-to-heart talk with the Man. I made my list and delivered it to him and sat back and waited.
Well, wouldn’t you know it, not two weeks later Anne popped back into my life? Lord have mercy. Thank you, Lord. Well, I never had a prayer answered so fast.
I had previously met Anne a few years back. She, her husband, and I had played on the same co-ed softball team. She was cute as a button in her short shorts and tight t-shirt. Had a hard time keeping my eye on the ball. But darn, she was married to John.
They got me involved in their multilevel business, so we spent a lot of time together.
Well, heavenly day, if Anne didn’t seem to be the perfect wife. I would tell myself that John was lucky to have a wife like her. If I were to ever marry again, I would want someone just like her.
Try as we did, the business just didn’t work out. We eventually drifted apart.
Then, while I was dating Jane and right after my plea to God, Anne, the perfect wife material, shows up at a SAF meeting. I just happened to be a greeter that day.
“Hello Tom,” she said with a smile.
She must have thought a cat had my tongue, ’cause I was having trouble formulating a response.
“Well, hi, Anne. Long time no see. What’ca doing here?” was the best I could muster.
Turns out she and John had gotten divorced. Now, all of a sudden, out of the clear blue sky, there she stood, with no ring on her finger. Hadn’t I been praying for a wife? Yes, Siree Bob, she had to be the answer to my prayers. Heaven had sent me an angel!
But this put me in a predicament. I was dating Jane, and we had planned a trip together to San Francisco. The trip was a disaster as all I could think about was Anne. I came to the conclusion that God had indeed answered my prayers and sent her back into my life. I told Jane this on the last day of our trip.
Of course, that went down like a lead balloon, and we parted on less than good terms. She hasn’t talked to me since. Sorry Jane, but God had answered my prayers and who dares go against God’s will?
How does the saying go? “Careful what you pray for, you just might get it.” If only I’d known.
But here I was as happy as a pig in slop. The woman of my dreams just waltzed into my life. We dated for three months, and both of us agreed that it was divine intervention. Being a Godly woman, she didn’t want to have a sinful relationship. So, on October 17, 1986, we went to the chapel and got married. This would be the third marriage for us both. Third time’s a charm, right?
Wishful thinking, Tom.
Looking at our wedding pictures, you can see my daughter Kristy wasn’t too pleased about the marriage. By her look, you would have thought I had married the devil.
Anne had two daughters from a previous marriage. One was out on her own, and the other was two years younger than Jason still living with Anne.
Kristy had graduated from high school. So she and Anne’s oldest daughter moved into an apartment together. I paid for Kristy to enroll in junior college at Maple Woods. Anne’s youngest daughter lived with Anne and me in my condo.
One day I went to visit Kristy at her apartment because she wouldn’t answer her phone. Wouldn’t ya know it, Anne’s oldest daughter informed me Kristy had packed up and moved to Virginia Beach to live with her mom. I guess that confirmed she really wasn’t too happy with me getting married.
From the get-go, Anne and I started having issues. It seemed we were only compatible in religion and sex. Everything else was like going a couple of rounds with Mohammed Ali.
She had such low self-esteem, mostly about the body God had given her. I thought it was a wonderful body, but apparently my thinking wasn’t in tune with hers.
“Do I look fat in these jeans?” The age old question that has men running for cover.
“No, my sweet, you don’t.”
“You’re just saying that. I do look fat, don’t I?”
“All I can see is a cheeky well-rou
nded butt.”
“What do you mean, ‘well-rounded’? Are you saying I’m fat? You are, aren’t you?”
“No, I was just saying how much I like your butt.”
“No, you weren’t. You were saying I’m fat.”
With that, the tears started, and the recriminations began. How I hurt her feelings and caused her emotional stress. How I didn’t appreciate her. How I didn’t love her. It was like walking on eggs, trying not to break them.
But she was God’s gift and so we could work it out, couldn’t we?
Anne had a bad habit. She was addicted to credit cards. She came into the marriage with a lot of debt. No problem, I took care of it because I didn’t want to start our marriage in debt. I knew how damaging credit card debt could be. I was a stickler for paying off my bills each month. Anne was just the opposite. To me, it was a total waste of money paying the outrageous finance charges.
I was in my forties at this point and hadn’t saved a dime, but I wasn’t in debt except for the condo and my car.
I started thinking about retiring someday. So I took a financial course at Maple Woods Junior College and learned about saving, investing, and budgeting. I started participating in TWA’s 401K retirement plan and got Anne to participate in hers. I showed Anne how we would be on a budget, live within our means, and retire at an early age. She seemed to be receptive, but I was to find out it would be impossible for her to do.
They say money is the root of all evil and destroys many marriages. We weren’t married but four months when Anne took off and left me wondering what happened to God’s wonderful plan for us.
*****
…It’s been awhile now, and I’m steady on the case. Every day, I’m looking for her face…Have you seen her?
It was snowing like crazy. One of those mid-western winter storms. A friend had just gotten off work and called to say his car wouldn’t start. I told Anne I was going to help him before the storm got worse. On the way back home, Anne and her daughter passed me. I tooted and waved, but I got no response. I was wondering where in the world she could be going in weather like this.
