The warm June night air gently blew through the open basement window, parting the curtains ever so slightly as it made its way through the room. The curtains brushed next to the side of the television as I lay in bed watching, fascinated with another show of "Ancient Mysteries" with Leonard Nimoy as he sought to explain different hypothesis of the Nazca lines in Peru.
I had been fascinated with many shows like this. Radio programs, talk shows, books, anything that would direct my attention towards the occult or paranormal would immediately stop me in my tracks and hold me spellbound as I intently hung on to every last word. Tonight was no exception. I had stayed up till midnight just to catch this show in spite of having to get up at 6 AM so I could hit my first class at school. All this fascination with my odd, eclectic tastes in spite of my religious upbringing and firm conviction in my faith. Still, I could not deny my absolute fascination with the subject of the supernatural. It pulled at me irresistibly and many times I could not help myself from scouring the tv guide in search of another show I could record on my VCR or watch on tv. I was obsessed, and looking back at it in retrospect it reminded me, more than a little, of the character Richard Dreyfuss played in "Close Encounters of the Third Kind".
I searched the channels one last time after the show had ended, hoping perhaps to find something else that would peak my interest. But in 1984 in a small country town in Utah there was not much else on save infomercials or static. So I resigned myself to shutting the television off, and with a thoughtful sigh I clicked the off button on the remote control and set it down next to the lamp, watching as the tube slowly faded to black. I had a test the next morning and I really should be getting some sleep I argued with myself as the curiosity of the Nazca lines drifted through my head.
Before shutting of the lamp I glanced over at my five year old son who was sharing the same room with me. Sprawled out on the mattress on the floor, one leg hanging from underneath the covers, I watched him for a moment, wondering if I should get out of my bed and pull the covers over him. I resisted the call and turned out the light, pulling the covers over me and closing my eyes as I puffed the pillow up under my head. Gradually I fell asleep, the sound of the crickets outside the window and the occasional toss and turn of my sleeping son growing fainter and fainter as I drifted off.
Quite suddenly I sprang to an upright position in my bed. From a deep sleep to wide awake instantaneously. I was not groggy in the least little bit. I was a little confused at why I would quite suddenly wake up. Perhaps I was late for school. I glanced at the clock next to the bed and noticed the time... 1 AM in the morning. Then I was aware I was not alone in the room. Directly in front of me, suspended in the air just below the ceiling, there was a slender grey being, perhaps three feet tall, his long skinny legs dangling in the air, one arm next to his side and the other extended out and pointing at my son, finger extended, who was now playing with a toy truck at the head of his bed, methodically pushing it back and forth. I got the impression he was trying hard to ignore this intruder who was hovering in the air. I returned my gaze back to this small slender being and as our eyes met, his large black eyes that were way too large for his head, (in spite of his extremely large head), I instantly understood what he was doing.
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