SECTION EIGHT
Entry #0057: Keeping Enemies Close
02-24-2009
Alright. I finally got the whole cabin painted. Bright yellow was better than dull peeling yellow.
Mike invited me over to his rented cabin up the dirt road, the old
Eckert's place. You see, yesterday I met him again on one of my
leisurely walks and he invited me over that evening for dinner. I felt I
had to be cautious about this guy, but I complied, reluctantly. I
suppose I should get to know him, find out if he is a spy or not.
I'll make a long story short, drop the long drawn-out dialogue. So I
walked up there and he invited me into his humble abode. He told me he
was a geological collector. . . . a rock-hound, we desert rats called
them. On a card table he had displayed various gemstones, crystals,
geodes, different types of polished rocks, and so forth. He had
recently collected several rocks I recognized right here around the
desert. Hey, this guy was from the city below! Stuff I might consider
boring he found fascinating. Rock collecting -- a pretty strange hobby.
Anyway, we had pork chops, green beans, and mashed potatoes for dinner,
and I hate to say he's a pretty bad cook, but I didn't tell him that.
At least we washed it down with Bud Light. But as we talked over dinner,
I felt uncomfortable, like he was hiding something, not saying
something. He did seem to be probing, asking me what my hobbies were,
since he had shared his fascination with rocks to me. I didn't want to
tell him I was a journalist, or anything about my articles or blogs,
especially that I researched various exciting and controversial topics.
I almost told him about my UFO and alien fascination, but then
restrained myself, because that might open a can of worms that would
lead to that very delicate situation that forced me to go into hiding.
And if Mike Smith was a spy, I really couldn't tell him much of
anything. Especially that I'm a reporter of paranormal phenomena,
Ufology, and conspiracies. I just kept telling him I wanted to let go
of the past, and move on.
But when I asked him questions as well, probing him in return, he acted
uneasy too, and spoke very little. The only things he focused on were
his rocks and his Chiropractic business down below. I told him about my
father's own chiropractic career, that he wrote two books about an
innovative clinical reflexology technique, a form of acupressure that
seemed to prove a definite means of healing. He seemed genuinely
fascinated about it as I explained it, or as much as I knew, which
wasn't a whole lot for a layman. But when we talked about other
subjects, we tended to peter out. I was trying to find out something
about him, and I knew he was trying to find out something about me, and
we were both close-lipped about it. Very strange!
As we parted at the door, he said to me, "You seem to be very cautious, as if you're hiding something."
I smiled grimly and replied, "Funny, I felt the same exact thing about you."
He didn't smile back. Just deadpan.
And that was that. I turned and left, walked down the dirt road toward
my cabin. You know what they say about keeping your friends close and
your enemies closer. I felt like I was in such a scenario - except I
didn't want to keep him too close at all.
I decided to stay away from him, just in case. I may be paranoid, but I
prefer to call it being "cautious," to borrow a term from this
potential enemy. Because I had a strong feeling there is far more to
Mike Smith then just a rock collection and Chiropractic.
Entry #0058: Pushy Calvin
02-28-2009
Calvin Hodges and I don't meet too often, maybe once or twice a month.
Usually I go to his house, on Mountain View Road, or we meet at the
Kountry Kitchen and talk over lunch. But he called me up last night,
asked me, "When can I come up to your cabin, you never invite me up
there." I felt something suspicious about this, like he was being pushy
for some reason. But I can't put my finger on it. Perhaps I'm just
being paranoid. My intuition says to not tell him where I live or to
bring him up here. So I just humored him and said, "Someday." I don't
let anybody know where I live, and even if some innocent friend like
Calvin did come up here, he could be followed by one of "them" - if
they were somewhere in the Valley looking for me. I always meandered
around and went out of my way, and did everything except drive up here
in a straight line, so to speak. So far only Mike Smith knows, my new
neighbor, and that can't be helped, although it may be a grave risk . . .
if he's a spy.
Anyway, Calvin has been pushier than normal lately, bugging me about
things. I already confided in him about my bizarre situation, strange
enemies searching me out, and that one dark-suited stranger and those
suspicious footprints in the sand, and that one or more of my articles
most likely hit a nerve. Although he insisted I was extremely paranoid,
I began sensing something, like he wasn't being honest with me
anymore, or hiding something, as if - oh, I don't know. I'm being
paranoid again, seeing conspiracies where they aren't, or where they
shouldn't be. Or are they right under my nose?
Entry #0059: Plans with Monica
03-03-2009
Monica called me this morning to tell me details concerning a two-day
seminar this weekend at Sky High Ranch, conducted by the fellow she
mentioned earlier, Dr. William Barnes. She told me the topic would be on
lucid dreaming and astral projection, how the two can go hand-in-hand.
My convoluted mind was more excited about the "hand-in-hand" part,
imagining her and me taking a walk through the rough and rugged desert,
hand-in-hand. Alright, I get distracted easily.
Anyway, I told her I looked forward to going with her to the seminar.
It's only a few days away! What will I wear? I haven't dressed up for
anyone in a long time. I'd better trim my scruffy beard too.
Sheesh! I was acting like this was a date. But wasn't it?
We'll see how the evening unfolds this Saturday, right after that
seminar. Gotta go through the first hoop to get to the next, you know.
Or are we talking about first and second base again. Yikes!
Entry #0060: Black Shadow Ops
03-05-2009
This is weird! Just a few hours ago I was doing researching, Googling
certain words or phrases, so I randomly typed in the phrase "shadow
ops" mainly because I'm bored. Although over three-hundred thousand
results are listed for this phrase (yikes!), after a while of
searching, clicking through the countless pages (many of which were
game references), I stumbled on a particular items saying, "Black
Shadow Ops, who are they?" I clicked it and went to the site. This was
obviously some conspiracy nut's site, who was raving about various
covert operations sanctioned by the government. It was saying the true
identity of one of these groups was unknown, but that various
conspiracy theorists called it Black Shadow Ops. It claimed that this
group was behind much of the government corruption that we've been
seeing over the years. I wondered if I was on to something. Perhaps I was getting closer to whoever was searching for me.
Then further down in the text I found something alarming. One of
the paragraphs had been practically plagiarized from one of my own
articles! A few words had been changed around, but it was essentially
mine. But I wondered if these thieves had researched other sites to
steal information. Which means I figured this site was just another
dead-end. But since they had taken from one of my articles, I had to
investigate further.
I searched through my Zones Unknown articles, and eventually found it,
one that had to do with some UFO cover-up instigated by the military,
and compared their article to it. Yep, only one paragraph, but damn near
word for word except a few changes here and there. So what should I
do? I could e-mail the pirating hosts of that bogus site and inform
them I caught them and that I could legally sew their asses off for
plagiarism unless they deleted that paragraph.
Then I felt my inner voice was warning me. I had that
neck-hairs-prickling feeling this could be a set up. My enemies might
have done this purposefully to draw me out, so that I would contact
them, so they could more easily track me down. So I thought of telling
my good friend Leo Stroud, maybe he could contact them to say he
stumbled on and read their article, discovering they plagiarized part
of an article on his site, Bamblebrush, and put it on their site. But
since my Zones Unknown articles are on Leo's site, I don't want to get
him in trouble either. They might use him to get to me. What a
predicament.
But I did at least call Leo, less than an hour ago, and told him about
the whole thing and my thought processes on it, and he said my hunch
was probably right, that I should ignore the whole matter. So I decided
to do nothing for now. Any possible traps had to be avoided, even one
as tempting as this.
Those ominous goons were baiting me, I'm sure of it! But I wasn't gonna play ball!
Entry #0061: The Two Strangers
03-08-2009
Alright. It's late Saturday night, almost midnight. I just came back
from one hell of a day! Saturday late morning, I went to the
metaphysical seminar, I even sat with Monica, and I felt really nervous,
anticipating my romantic moves after the day's event: dinner at the
Kountry Kitchen, a stroll through Pioneer Park, and some necking down
in the dugout of the old baseball field - if she would comply.
Anyway, although the topic the speaker talked on was fascinating,
mostly things I had heard and read before, something strange was
happening behind the scenes.
The seminar took place in the large multipurpose hall at the Sky
High Guest Ranch, several hundred folding chairs for people to sit on.
Evidently people from the cities came up here to hear Dr. Barns speak.
But as he spoke, I saw two men in dark suits standing at the back of
the hall. The strange thing is that most of the people here wore casual
clothes, and of course so did Dr. Barnes, who wore a beige sweater and
blue jeans. So these dark suited strangers standing back there stuck
out like two sore thumbs. Every once in awhile I would turn to look at
them. One time they were slowly scanning the hall, or looking for
something or someone amidst the people. Were they looking for me? And
how could they know what I looked like if that was the case? Except for
my goofy photo on a couple different web sites where I posted my
articles, but I since deleted most of them.
Maybe they looked for anyone acting suspicious, looking around, like
some paranoid guy being pursued by unknown strangers, some guy like me.
Damn!
The next time I looked back there, they were looking directly at me. I
looked away. That was really stupid of me too keep looking back. But I
had to know if these were my enemies or what. Curiosity killed the cat,
and me too, most likely.
Like an idiot, I look back one last time, but they were gone -- nowhere
to be seen. They had either left or sat down. I couldn't focus on the
rest of the lecture from that point on, not even during the question
and answer session. Under different circumstances, I would enjoy his
discussion on dreams and astral projection, but my mind was too
preoccupied - with worrying about those dark strangers back there, and I
felt sure that's who they were!
Then Dr. Barnes gave us a lunch break. Monica asked me why I had been
looking back so many times, and I just told her I was looking at the
clock at the back of the room. She knew that wasn't true, her frown
told me. So I told her I just saw two suspicious characters. She told
me not to worry about it.
Despite her advice, I walked around inside the building, and the
dining hall, searching through the people to find those two characters,
but I didn't see them again, not anywhere.
Things are starting to get really strange here, but whether or not that was my level of paranoia increasing, or something actually going on, I wasn't sure.
Entry #0062: Hanging out with Monica
03-09-2009
So I tried to forget about those two strangers. I tried to focus on the
rest of the talk by Dr. Barnes for the rest of the afternoon. But I
still occasionally looked back, not seeing anyone strange. Monica
whispered to forget it for now.
After the second long talk and question-and-answer session, everyone
started breaking up and milling around. I asked Monica if she wanted to
eat at the Kountry Kitchen. Alright, it was the only eatery in this
one-horse town. Anyway, at first she hesitated, said she had to help her
aunt clean up, since she was working here part time. But when she
asked her aunt, the lady said she could go. I was elated!
Well, over meatloaf and potatoes, the Kountry Kitchen's dinner special
that evening, we chatted about a lot of things, personal stuff, and my
reasons for hiding out here in the high desert, and those two strangers
in the back of the hall. She said worrying about them was a
mood-killer, so we discussed more light-hearted things.
I suggested a walk in the park, and she complied. Pioneer Park was
only half a mile away, but we drove their in my Chevy Blazer anyway.
Although it was a little chilly that evening, I wore my buckskin jacket
and she wore a light parka.
To make a long story short, we walked and talked, idle chitchat, you
know, and soon found ourselves holding hands. I steered us toward the
dugouts at the baseball diamond, where I told her when I was in 5th
grade, I played for the Little League's Dodgers, wearing blue, my
favorite color. I wasn't good at the sport, but I enjoyed the game and
the camaraderie, and when our team won, the girls rooted for us,
surrounding us and handing us bottles of pop from the coolers. I always
chose Cream Soda. I even told Monica that when I was sixteen I kissed
my first girl down in the Dodgers' dug-out right after impressing her
with annals from my old baseball days. Yeah, I was setting up the mood.
And it worked. Monica and I kissed - long and hard, and passionately.
Well, after that we chit-chatted some more and goofily giggled like a
couple of teenagers. Yikes! Reliving our youth, are we?
Alright, it had to end and she had to get back, so I drove her back to
the Ranch. After one last parting kiss, I took off out of the parking
lot, and down Sky High Road, tingling all over. This was a good day!
Entry #0063: Two Things on my Mind
03-11-2009
While I sit down here at my station of operations in Area 57, reviewing
taped interviews for Zones Unknown, which I can't seem to focus on
right now, I have two things on my mind today: Monica, and those two
strangers. I know that she and I are starting something, but since she
lives down below, her time is short here in the desert. It seems like a
stupid idea to start something with somebody that lives too far away
to have any kind of real relationship. Or is she the kind of
free-spirited gal that lives for the moment and doesn't think about the
future? She implied that once. Perhaps she's not the type that isn't
going to commit to anything serious. I have to talk to her about this
next time we meet, or maybe even over the phone. We'll see. We human
beings function two different ways, with our heart and our mind. Your
mind sees things logically, and understands the reality of these kind of
problems, but the heart doesn't care, it just wants to be with this
other person no matter what, no matter how many miles will separate
them. With the heart, the impossible doesn't exist. Strange, eh?
Stranger still were those two dark-suited men in the back of the
multipurpose hall at the Sky High Ranch. My intuition told me these were
agents sent by those who have been searching for me. Or was this just
my paranoia getting satisfaction? Exactly how much did they know? Have
they figured out that I am definitely somewhere here in the Valley, and
somewhere near Mulvern? Do they know what I look like? Can they spot me
in a crowd? Or walking down the street in town? Have they figured out
that Bert Green is just a cover name for R. R. Stark, or even who I
really am beyond the journalistic pseudonym? I hope they hadn't
penetrated this far. But when I get paranoid like this, I gotta ask
these really rotten questions. Paranoia demands it!
Entry #0064: Monica's Weird Vision
03-15-2009
Monica called me this morning, which was unexpected, because I was
going to call her and ask about our little problem, the fact that
eventually she would have to go back down to the city, just when we were
starting something, whether you want to call it a relationship or
what, I wasn't sure yet. But I had to put off my little spiel for now,
because she told me she had some kind of a psychic impression. In a
vision she saw two dark men both holding a single fishing pole, reeling
the line out into the water of some lake, then waiting, then a fish
grabbed the bait, but the fish turned into a hand - my hand, she
said. Although the bait itself was just a worm, void of any clear
symbolism, it could be representing anything. Anything to draw me out.
She said I have to be careful, so as not to draw undue attention to
myself. Something I was trying, but I wasn't doing too good a job of
it. She said I didn't want to get caught by "them."
Then she said something I thought was rather odd. She suggested I lay
low, and that she and I hanging out together around town or anywhere
might draw undue attention. She said they might be using her as the
bait, since they might have seen us together in the multipurpose hall
at the Ranch. I couldn't help think that might be some kind of an
excuse for us to not get too close, possibly because she knew she would
have to leave town soon, and that starting a relationship with someone
who lived too far away was a bad idea. If that was the case, how could
she so easily cut her own heartstrings like that? Perhaps she was the
more logical type, ruled more by her mind than by her heart.
Although what she said made sense. They could use something or anything for a trap. Even use her to lure me out into the open.
|