jak.themothmanprophecies-第46部分

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　　〃I　think　they　were　trying　to　prove　something　to　me；　Mary；〃　I　answered　slowly。　〃I'm　sure　they　didn't　mean　you　any　harm。〃
　　
　　As　I　replaced　the　receiver　I　thought　to　myself：　they're　doing　it；　they're　turning　this　old　boy　into　a　raving　paranoiac。
　　
　　The　phone　rang　again。　I　picked　it　up　wearily。
　　
　　Beep；　beep；　beep；　beep。　
　　
　　
　　　17　…　Even　the　Bedouins　Hate　Their　Telephone　pany
　　
　　I。
　　
　　Every　phone　call　from　Ivan　Sanderson　in　New　Jersey　was　an　adventure　in　electronic　lunacy。　Weird　whistles；　static；　beeps；　and　loud　clicks　like　an　extension　being　slammed　down；　haunted　his　line。　Often　we　were　cut　off　suddenly　in　the　middle　of　a　conversation。　Sanderson's　involvement　in　UFOs　was　strictly　periphery。　He　was　primarily　a　biologist　and　zoologist　and　earned　a　good　part　of　his　living　writing　animal　encyclopedias。　A　tall；　thin；　handsome　Britisher　in　his　mid…fifties；　Ivan　was　an　electrifying　personality。　In　his　younger　days　he　was　familiar　to　television　viewers　as　the　animal　expert　on　the　old　Garry　Moore　show；　and　even　had　his　own　program　on　NBC　for　a　number　of　years。
　　
　　In　1967；　Ivan　was　under　a　great　strain。　Alma；　his　wife　of　thirty　years；　was　terminally　ill。　Like　all　authors；　he　had　constant　financial　problems。　That　summer　he　was　feeling　ill。　Once　he　took　to　his　bed　and　sweated　profusely　for　forty…eight　hours。　And　he　confided　to　me　that　he　had　suffered　a　two…day　siege　with　the　cosmic　clap；　（＋）　the　symptoms　disappearing　as　suddenly　and　mysteriously　as　they　began。　
　　
　　　
　　
　　＇*＇　〃Everybody　hates　the　telephone　pany。　Even　the　Bedouins　hate　their　telephone　pany。〃　Line　from　the　1967　movie　The　President's　Analyst。
　　
　　＇＋＇　Male　UFO　witnesses　sometimes　develop　a　temporary　set　of　symptoms　resembling　gonorrhea。　
　　
　　
　　
　　One　day　Jane　called　me　with　a　message　for　〃the　man　with　skinny　arms　who　wears　dresses。〃　Very　few　people　knew　that　Ivan　lounged　around　his　farm　in　a　skirtlike　garment　popular　in　Indonesia。　The　message　suggested　that　he　should　take　a　certain　kind　of　vitamin　supplement。　I　passed　this　on　to　him　and　a　few　days　later　he　called　to　tell　me　that　he　felt　〃100　percent　better〃　as　soon　as　he　started　the　vitamin　regimen。
　　
　　That　fall　a　woman　connected　with　the　air　force　and　the　Colorado　University　UFO　project　arranged　to　spend　a　weekend　on　Ivan's　farm　to　go　through　his　UFO　flies；　which　extended　all　the　way　back　to　the　1940s。　She　drove　up　from　Washington；　D。C。；　and　when　she　arrived　at　his　out…of…the…way　farm　on　a　narrow　back　road　she　was　excited　and　nervous。　While　driving　up　the　New　Jersey　turnpike　she　became　aware　of　a　panel　truck　following　her。　When　she　turned　off　the　turnpike　onto　the　country　roads　that　would　take　her　to　Ivan's；　the　truck　turned　off　and　continued　to　follow　her。
　　
　　She　stopped　at　a　gas　station　and　the　truck　pulled　in　behind　her。　The　driver　got　out　and　approached　her。　He　appeared　very　normal；　she　said；　but　his　coveralls　were　very　neatly　pressed　and　his　shoes　were　highly　shined。
　　
　　〃I've　been　watching　your　tires；〃　he　told　her。　〃I　think　there's　a　bad　lump　on　one　of　your　rear　tires。〃
　　
　　She　looked　but　could　see　nothing　wrong。　The　gas　station　attendant　came　out　and　the　man　got　back　into　his　truck　and　drove　off。　The　lady　continued　her　drive；　following　Ivan's　plicated　instructions…his　farm　was　not　easy　to　find…until　she　came　to　a　small　restaurant　and　decided　to　stop　for　a　snack。　The　moment　she　stepped　out　of　her　car　the　man　in　coveralls　reappeared。
　　
　　〃I'd　really　better　have　a　look　at　that　tire；〃　he　announced。　Before　she　could　protest；　he　crawled　under　the　rear　of　her　car。　After　fussing　underneath　the　vehicle　for　two　or　three　minutes　he　crawled　back　out。
　　
　　〃I　guess　it　will　be　okay；〃　he　told　her。　〃Where　are　you　going？〃
　　
　　〃Not　far　from　here；〃　she　answered。　Unnerved；　she　decided　to　forego　the　snack；　jumped　back　into　her　car；　and　continued　on　to　Ivan's。
　　
　　As　soon　as　Ivan　heard　the　story　he　picked　up　his　phone　and　called　me。　I　snapped　on　my　tape　recorder　and　suggested　that　he　should　go　out　and　look　under　the　woman's　car　while　I　talked　to　her　about　the　incident。　She　outlined　the　story　to　me；　then　Ivan　came　back　on　the　line　very　excited。
　　
　　〃Listen；　Keel；〃　he　began　breathlessly。　〃There's　some　stuff　on　the　bottom　of　her　gas　tank。　Three　big　globs　of　it；　placed　in　a　very　neat　triangle；　all　equal　distances　apart。〃
　　
　　When　he　described　the　〃globs〃　to　me　a　chill　ran　down　my　spine。　He　seemed　to　be　describing　a　material　I　had　handled　in　basic　training　when　the　army　was　hopelessly　trying　to　turn　me　into　a　trained　killer。
　　
　　〃It　sounds　like　plastic　explosive　to　me；　Ivan；〃　I　declared。　〃Maybe　you'd　better　call　the　police。〃
　　
　　Ivan　did　just　that。　The　police　came　out　and　carried　away　the　substance。　It　proved　to　be　an　ordinary；　harmless；　puttylike　material。　The　woman；　who　had　a　phenomenal　memory；　was　able　to　recall　the　sign　on　the　side　of　the　truck　which　named　an　appliance　pany　and　a　nearby　town。　But　a　police　check　failed　to　find　any　such　pany　in　that　town。
　　
　　The　strangest　part　of　this　episode　was　my　tape　recording　of　our　conversation　that　afternoon。　We　had　an　excellent　connection　with　none　of　the　usual　interference。　Ivan's　voice　on　the　tape　came　through　loud　and　clear。　But　each　time　the　woman　spoke　to　me　on　the　same　phone　and　same　line　there　was　heavy　static　on　the　tape　drowning　out　her　voice　pletely！　Yet　we　did　not　hear　any　static　at　all　while　we　were　talking。
　　
　　Later　Ivan　theorized　that　the　putty　had　been　used　to　hold　wires　forming　the　antenna　to　a　small　electronic　homing　device。　The　man　in　the　panel　truck　had　gone　to　elaborate　lengths　to　remove　the　device；　Ivan　speculated。
　　
　　After　this　incident　I　began　to　have　more　problems　with　recording　phone　conversations。　Whenever　a　contactee　or　mystery　voice　would　call；　the　tape　would　just　contain　static。　I　switched　to　another；　better　recorder　but　the　problem　persisted。　Even　portions　of　conversations　with　Mary　Hyre　were　drowned　in　static　when　she　was　discussing　some　of　the　more　mysterious　events　in　Point　Pleasant。　Somebody　was　not　only　able　to　manipulate　my　phone　but　also　my　tape　recorder！　（*）　
　　
　　
　　
　　＇*＇　Dr。　Berthold　Schwarz；　a　deputy　police　officer　in　Pennsylvania；　and　several　other　investigators　have　had　similar　problems　with　their　tape　recorders。　Even　former　President　Nixon　had　trouble　with　his　tape　recorder。　
　　
　　　
　　
　　II
　　
　　After　many　freakish　phone　conversations　and　exchanges　of　letters　to　nonexistent　addresses；　I　had　a　definite　date　for　the　big　December　〃EM　effect。〃　It　was　scheduled　for　December　15。　By　this　time　Mr。　Apol　had　assumed　a　definite　personality。　He　was　as　real　to　me　as　Cold　was　to　Derenberger；　although　I　would　never　meet　him。　I　studied　his　psychology；　his　quick　temper；　his　mischievous　sense　of　humor。　I　argued　with　him　on　the　phone；　sometimes　for　two　or　three　hours　at　a　stretch。　And　I　felt　sorry　for　him。　It　became　apparent　that　he　really　did　not　know　who　or　what　he　was。　He　was　a　prisoner　of　our　time　frame。　He　often　confused　the　past　with　the　future。　I　gathered　that　he　and　all　his　fellow　entities　found　themselves　transported　backward　and　forward　in　time　involuntarily；　playing　out　their　little　games　because　they　were　programed　to　do　so；　living…or　existing…only　so　long　as　they　could　feed　off　the　energy　and　minds　of　mediums　and　contactees。　I　could　ask　him　any　kind　of　obscure…question　and　receive　an　instant　and　accurate　answer；　perhaps　because　my　own　mind　was　being　tapped　just　like　my　telephone。　Where　was　my　mother's　father　born？　Cameron　Mills；　New　York；　of　course。　Where　had　I　misplaced　my　stopwatch？　Look　in　the　shoebox　in　the　upper　right…hand　corner　of　the　bedroom　closet　（it　was　there）。
　　
　　On　the　weekend　of　October　7…8；　1967；　my　phone　stopped　ringing。　My　contactees　and　their　friends　did　not　call。　The　sudden　silence　was　unnerving。　But　on　Monday　the　ninth；　they　all　began　to　check　in；　and　they　all　told　me　identical　stories。　They　recalled　nothing　except　brief　glimpses　of　some　kind　of　hospital。　Shirley　said　she　went　to　sleep　Thursday　night　and　did　not　wake　up　again　until　Monday　morning。　Her　baby　was　in　his　crib；　happy　and　well　cared　for。　Nothing　in　her　house　was　disturbed。　She　mentioned　that　her　feet　were　sore　and　her　legs　ached　as　if　she　had　done　a　lot　of　walking。　All　she　could　remember　was　visiting　a　large　structure　made　of　red　glass。　Jane；　too；　remembered　a　red…glass　building　filled　with　strange　beings　in　white　coats；　like　doctors；　who　were　examining　lines　of　earth　people；　all　of　whom　moved　like　robots　apparently　in　a　drugged　state。
　　
　　Beneath　all　the　hallucinatory　nonsense　I　could　now　perceive　the　roots　of　many　of　the　ufological　legends。　A　surprising　number　of　contactees　were　orphans　and　through　them　the　whole　〃hybrid〃　concept　was　launched。　They　were　told　that　their　parentage　was　a　cross　between　terrestrial　and　extraterrestrial；　that　slowly　more　and　more　earthly　women　were　being　impregnated　by　spacemen　and　eventually　the　whole　planet　would　be　populated　with　a　hybrid　race。　Some　of　the　games　I　was　involved　in　were　obviously　designed　to　convince　me　of　the　reality　of　this　crossbreeding　experiment。　But　I　knew　it　was　just　an　updated　version　of　the