Sleeping Souls: Part Two: Dilation

By Adam Malawista

Duncan Waynewright's odyssey continues. The puzzles he and Jared solve begin to dilate and to breed exponentially more mystery. Duncan is taken on a tour deep inside his own consciousness where the extreme personal nature of all that has transpired is revealed to him. Walter Davies, aware that Duncan and Jared are inching towards awareness of his true mission at Junction Lake, welcomes his employees into a secret and cryptic world. Jared's intuitive breed of ribald humor helps Duncan maintain a sliver of sanity even as Mia's own otherworldly experiences multiply. Jared's wife, Janette, and Mia develop a profound and inexplicable connection and Janette admits she's been keeping arcane secrets her entire life.

The two couples go on a quest to find out if their shared encounters are happening by chance or if it is all being orchestrated by something not of this world. They yearn to know the basis of the connection they all share with each other. Duncan seeks to find out why he and Wade are the only ones who have been privileged to meet the bizarrely magnificent woman of their dreams and if she even really exists. He and Wade further wish to know why she's here, if what she's been telling them is true, and why Duncan finds her so hauntingly familiar. When the Waynewrights and Wilsons—and all their children—are invited for dinner at the Davies' house up at Junction Lake, some of these wishes come true. But nothing can prepare them for what they get for dessert.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9780996826822

Book preview

SLEEPING SOULS

Part Two:

DILATION

Copyright © 2017 by Adam Malawista

All rights reserved.

Shaiboo Media LLC

ISBN: (Print) 978-0-99682-683-9 (Ebook) 978-0-99682-682-2

The characters and events in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

sleepingsoulsbooks.com

Cover design by BespokeBookCovers.com

Contents

Chapter Nine — Scenic Route

Testing One Two Three

Another Day at the Office

Mia Will Understand

Chapter Ten — Cosmosake

Reverie Rant

Lucky Bastards

Fetish

Sleigh Ride

Fates

Chapter Eleven — Afterglow

Mounds

Curious Little Monkey

Of Two Minds and Two Times

Chapter Twelve — The Arrival

You Are Here

Kitchen Detail

Family Secrets

Chapter Thirteen — Out and Back (PE)

Four by Four (BAWKA)

Who Are Them?

The Unknown Knows

Coming Soon

Acknowledgements

Chapter Nine — Scenic Route

Testing One Two Three

I drove beyond the borders of our neighborhood, feeling extremely relieved. For the first time since everything had begun, I could actually say that I knew Mia was going to be okay. I’d always had faith in her strength, but sometimes faith was not enough, and I just didn’t think that this confidence in her continued well-being could literally happen overnight. Mia and Zooba could meet now—in fact, they already had.

I wanted to know more about the process that took place. Instead of feeling a sense of distrust or trepidation over whatever process Zooba used with Mia, my feelings turned towards wonder and fascination. Whatever it was, I was elated to have my wife on-board with me. I knew now that I could tell her about anything that happened and she would be able to move past fear and panic. It was clear now that she was connected with our love—a concept that resonated deeply with me after the things that Zooba had explained to me about the human soul. I felt my connection with Mia this morning even more than I usually did—it was utterly tangible.

I missed Mia so inexpressibly as I continued on my drive to work. I kept seeing her looking up at me, replaying the moment we stepped outside our front doorway to say our goodbyes, the sunlight lighting up her face. It occurred to me that the two women in my life both had the most extraordinary eyes. Although Zooba’s appeared to mysteriously glow from within, Mia’s lit up, quite stirringly, in their own right.

Mia’s long, deep, dark brown hair and pale, pinkish skin always seemed to rouse the passion in me. A light smattering of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks would appear during the summer months, always driving me wild—to me she was always just the sexiest thing. I can honestly say that, with Mia, I experienced love at first sight.

I soaked in these feelings of joy as I pondered how lucky I was to have Mia as my wife. She had given me so much—a family, a home, and herself. I had been so consumed by all that had been going on—understandably so, I suppose—that I’d forgotten to focus on the one grounding constant in my life that had now come back into full view—my family.

Although I was running a little late now, I knew it would be a productive day—I felt lighter than air and fully recharged. It was 7:11 in the morning and white billowy clouds traversed the deep blue morning sky. I turned up the satellite radio and for the first time in what seemed like weeks, I clearly focused on the workday ahead of me. Without even realizing it, I had chosen to take the scenic route to work. It just added to the sense of connectedness that I felt this morning. Even as I drove, I could see the energy pouring off the tops of the trees where they met the sky.

I followed the curvature of the road as it wound around the hilly, elevated terrain when I realized that I had no idea where I was. I’d driven on this road a thousand times and yet I had no clue as to where I might have even deviated from my usual route—I was definitely lost. The only turnoffs were dirt roads. This was definitely the outskirts of town, an outskirts I’d never noticed before. I looked down at my navigation system—it was frozen in place. The little arrow that designates the vehicle’s whereabouts and the map had apparently malfunctioned—I got no response when I tapped the touch screen. Then it went black and the radio shut off. A moment later the truck sounded like it was running out of gas, so I quickly pulled over onto the narrow, gravelly shoulder.

My truck was dead. It wouldn’t start or even make a sound when I turned the key. I knew I had at least a half tank of gas so this was quite bizarre. I tried to keep my cool, but I kept imagining that if Jared were with me he would be running into the woods claiming that we were about to be abducted by aliens. I looked into the sky. Seeing nothing, I popped the hood and got out of the car.

I wasn’t exactly mechanically inclined when it came to engines, so I really had no idea what I was even looking for—nothing was smoking or smelled like it was burning. It all looked just fine to me. I closed the hood and grabbed my cell phone. Just as I’d reluctantly begun to suspect—my phone was dead too. I was admittedly getting a little freaked out. I looked down the road that veered out of view in the direction that I had come from. I saw no one coming my way. I turned to look up ahead and saw no one coming from that direction either. I got back in my truck and tried to start it up again—nothing. My phone was still dead as well. As I looked up and out the front windshield of my truck, complete terror overtook me—I focused on what appeared to be a small, circular UFO hovering above the center of the road about two hundred feet down the road. I frantically tried to start the truck again, even though the reason for its failure was now obvious. I tried to calm myself down as I wondered where Zooba was and when she was going to just flash inside my head and coax me through what was about to take place. If she could convince the Shaiboo to protect us from the occupants of the Black Triangle, then she could surely intervene with this little UFO—but so far there was no sign of her.

The craft just sat there about ten feet above the road’s surface. I could detect a slight, slow and fluid bouncing movement. I could hear no sound coming from it. The craft was a shiny, blackish-gray color, and with closer inspection appeared not to be completely round, but had a stepped or graduated sequence to its shell, kind of like a smoothed out version of one of those South American pyramids—but with one pyramidal form upright, sitting atop another which was inverted. The center area jutted out the furthest and was divided in half horizontally by a rotating center ring that appeared to be frictionless as it spun, or seemed to spin, at an extremely high speed. The other portions of the craft appeared to move slowly back and forth in irregular sequences and in opposition to each other. It looked as if blocky segments of the hull of differing sizes and shapes were protruding outwards and then retracting back into the surface, creating a bizarre breathing or pixilation effect.

There were all sorts of interesting and indescribable appendages that looked to be merged into the fuselage, and I could see little strobes of multicolored light every few seconds emanating from all over the craft in odd combinations that did not seem to repeat. The strobe-like flashes did not seem to originate from any particular device or fixture and looked as though they just emanated from the fuselage itself. I couldn’t tell if they were being produced by the craft or if they were merely a side effect of some energy field that the craft emitted.

The flashes were different from those of police vehicles and fire trucks and even all the myriad of aircraft that regularly inhabit our skies. There was a chaos about the way these flashes went off, almost like the way popcorn kernels explode as the container they are in heats up.

There was nothing that looked like windows or portholes of any kind, and nothing that would clearly designate a propulsion system, as far as I could tell. Determining the exact size of the craft was somewhat perplexing, as it appeared rather small but at the same time looked like it could at least carry a small crew of humanoid occupants of average size. I was unsure of the distance that the craft was from my truck. It would play tricks on my perception, appearing closer and larger, then smaller and farther away. Yet the craft also never seemed to move. I sat there trying to gauge its distance from me by comparing it to a pile of small boulders that sat on the side of the road adjacent to the craft. There was definitely some kind of perceptual warping effect that I was experiencing.

As I was finally beginning to get a grip on the fear I felt, a group of beings materialized outside the craft. I felt perhaps the creepiest feeling that I have ever known—my mind immediately redefined the heebie-jeebies. Directly in front of the craft stood a group of five Greys, their oversized, black, glossy eyes staring right at me—through me. Two of them appeared to be wearing similar tunic-like robes, reminiscent of the ones that were worn by the two Greys in my dream, the ones who were talking with Walter. The other three, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be naked. As if this wasn’t enough to completely do away with the feelings of well being that I had been experiencing just minutes earlier, I heard a vague, organic clicking sound and one of those mutant thingamajigs appeared as well, one of those disgusting looking creatures that were also present outside Walter’s office in my dream. This thing appeared about twenty or so feet in front of the group of Greys.

I made a lackluster effort to start the truck again to no avail. As I watched in abject horror, the faceless, translucent white creature disappeared and then reappeared in what seemed like random places as it worked its way towards me. I could feel a nervous sweat seeping out of me while I helplessly watched its approach. As it got closer, I could see that it was not fully gone from one position before it instantly rematerialized in another. There was what looked like a brief afterimage still present in the previous location once the creature had rematerialized in the next. It was as if I were looking at a screen.

The Greys stood motionless as their grotesque companion continued to loom closer. With no calming telepathic message coming from Zooba, or the Greys for that matter, I unwillingly decided to get the fuck out of my truck and flee into the dense woods.

But to further multiply my escalating duress, I was trapped. They were somehow controlling the locks on my doors—I fumbled with them but couldn’t even pull them up manually. I looked up and could not find that thingamajig anywhere. I looked behind the truck and to the sides and all around but, just like in the dream, there was no sign of it. Then suddenly, the entire group of Greys rose up above the road, as if they were a single, invisibly connected entity, and began to float towards my truck. They spontaneously gained momentum and, in the blink of an eye, the five Greys were surrounding my truck—all of them floating maybe a foot off of the road. One of the clothed ones dangled in the air about five feet from my door. I looked deep into its eyes, eyes like magnets—I could not look away.

Then suddenly, my door unlocked and slowly opened. The Greys all stayed in their same positions as I remained in my seat, not knowing what on Earth I was supposed to do. After a few seconds it occurred to me that maybe they wanted me to get out. As the thought crossed my mind, the Grey hovering just beyond my door, nodded its head once as if confirming my thought with an affirmative gesture. Coming to terms with the fact that I had no escape, I thought about my family—somehow I knew that I would be home with them tonight. I mustered all the courage I had and slowly stepped out of my pickup.

I stood no more than three feet from this Grey that floated in front of me. It was taller than I had thought it would be. Its height was probably between four and five feet, but given the creature’s gravity defying state and the fact that its robe was covering its hands and feet, that estimation was rough at best. Out of nowhere, an image of the wand that sat in my pocket appeared crystal clear in my mind. How could I not have realized that maybe they just want their wand back? I thought. I nodded affirmatively to the Grey and said out loud, Oh, you want your wand back. The Grey nodded affirmatively once again. I slowly reached into my pocket, took out the little wand, and offered it to the Grey. In a quick and precise manner, the Grey’s arm rose. Its long, skinny fingers—there appeared to be four, including what seemed to be one that functioned like a thumb—slipped out of the robe, reached towards me, and took the wand. The hand and the wand then quickly disappeared back inside the robe. An image of Walter then appeared in my mind as I looked into the Grey’s eyes once more. Although I could hear no words being spoken, I knew that it wanted me to go see Walter to tell him about what just happened. I knew somehow that the Grey was pleased with me during this encounter—that this whole event had been some sort of test. Then, without any further ado, four of the Greys simultaneously rotated in position to face their craft while the one I communicated with remained facing me. Then they all began to float back to their ship.

In an instant, just as before, they were standing down the road in front of their ship and in the same formation they were in when they surrounded my pickup. I could once again hear that clicking sound as the thingamajig creature reappeared in front of the Greys. A rectangular block of some sort slid out from the surface of the upper half of the craft like a drawer. It detached itself and floated over to the tall white creature. A cacophony of odd sounds, almost bird-like in nature, clicked and trilled as powerful strobes of light completely engulfed the block. The tall white creature appeared to glow from inside as it all of a sudden, and to my complete amazement, disassembled itself somehow, as if the reality around it was peeling away as its now geometric pieces, like symmetrical clumps, then blew in an invisible current into the strobe-emitting block. The block then began to spin and rotate and distort—it appeared to be spinning in every possible direction all at once. The clicking and chirping trills reached a crescendo as the block shot back into the surface of the craft. As the block reentered the craft, a series of light orbs lifted out of the fuselage and flew off at high rates of speed in different directions—one whizzed past me as I stood outside my truck. The Greys then vanished all at once, followed by their ship. A moment later, my truck started back up on its own.

∞∞∞

I pulled out my cell phone, which was of course functioning again, and started to call Mia. But I stopped myself—I would tell her about this later, maybe after I had spoken with Walter. I started to call Jared but I stopped myself again. I would tell him later as well—he still didn’t know about what happened with the wand last night and I just couldn’t start getting into my visitation with Zooba at this time. As I stood there staring at my phone, I saw that the time was 7:21 a.m. It seemed completely impossible that only ten or so minutes had passed during this entire encounter. But, then again, I had experienced this time manipulation before—just last night, in fact, after my talk with Zooba. She had even discussed it with me, so why should I even think that these Greys wouldn’t also be using some sort of time manipulation technology during their rendezvous?

I was so clearheaded before, but now I felt that things were getting out of control again—as if I ever had any control over any of this in the first place. I had to admit, though, that I sort of did cause this to happen. I found the wand, after all. Nobody forced me to pick it up and bring it home with me—I kind of brought this on myself. These Greys must have detected it last night when I’d used it to read my family’s dreams. The fact that Zooba must have known that I had the wand as well was the only thing keeping me sane right now—she probably knew that these Greys were going to pay me a visit soon and she chose, for some reason, to let me fly solo on this encounter. Maybe that was my punishment for messing with the wand. Still and all, the fact that I dreamed about these Greys, saw the wand in my dream, and then found it the next day in Walter’s garden made the whole affair seem intentional. Whose intention, though?

Who would want me to recover their wand, only then to retrieve it from me in some elaborate close encounter on some strange and unfamiliar road? This was definitely beyond my comprehension at the moment. Maybe I was reaching, but these Greys didn’t seem like the types that went around dropping their tools while interacting with humans while other humans observed the whole event in some dream dimension. Still, though, it was pretty cool. They didn’t harm me and, if it happened again, I didn’t think I would almost shit my pants like I did this time...almost, that is. The hideous thingamajig, without a doubt, still really creeped me out. I wondered how many people actually got to experience something so arcane in their lifetimes. Come to think of it, Jared might actually be a little disappointed that he wasn’t here with me.

As I continued to stand outside my pickup and ponder this momentous event, the sound of the idling engine had a definite calming effect on me. Still, there was not a sign of anyone on the road, and I still needed to solve the mystery of where exactly I was. I got back in my truck and decided to pull up ahead and check out the area where the craft had been. I wondered what I would do if I actually found anything. Would I even pick it up this time?

I put the truck in drive and pulled ahead to where the pile of small boulders sat on the side of the road. I stopped my truck on the narrow shoulder once again and got out. There was nothing—neither a scorch mark nor any little footprints on the roadway. They had left without a trace, although I could plainly detect a charge of some sort in the air that made me think of static electricity, but perhaps it was just my overexcited nerves.

I got back in my truck and pulled away. My navigation system was on but was frozen in place and still did not respond to my touch. I wasn’t too happy that they blew my nav system with whatever technology they used to do what they did. I was going to have to replace it now.

I drove ahead towards another curve in the road that veered off to the right. It followed the contour of the base of the landmass to my left. After rounding the long curve, I could finally see someone driving up ahead, coming my way. As I continued to drive, I realized I knew exactly where I was again. Furthermore, and to my bemused delight, my nav system was suddenly functioning properly. I was about at the halfway point on the scenic route to work.

I continued to drive on but it was just too weird—how had I not recognized the road before? As curiosity got the better of me, and with the road now clear again of vehicles in both directions, I did an illegal U-turn and drove back in the direction the encounter took place. I drove for almost two miles and everything was as it always was. There was no sign of the stretch of roadway where the Greys had repossessed their wand from me. I could not find the pile of boulders, nor could I locate the segment of curving road that would forever be imprinted in my mind. I turned around again and drove onward towards the lake once more, but still saw nothing that resembled the segment of roadway where it all took place.

As I drove on, I laughed to myself, feeling stupid for being so confused when I already knew that it was possible for these beings to manipulate reality. Obviously, these Greys were able to control space/time to some extent with their technology, although my present understanding of where and when I was before would continue to elude me for now. Were the Greys as mystified by the abilities of the Shaiboo as I was by theirs? It seemed that the Greys were using some form of technology—devices of sorts outside and separate from themselves—whereas the Shaiboo appeared to have a natural ability to perform these apparent miracles—no devices or machines necessary to accomplish them. No assistance needed.

Even if I was correct in these assumptions, I still had no idea what the purpose of the vessel was—the one the Shaiboo were busy creating in the lake. I was pretty sure, though, that controlling the weather was only one of the many functions that whatever it was down there could carry out. Maybe even a mere side effect. Were Walter or even Zooba privy to the entire agenda of the Shaiboo?

∞∞∞

When I entered the outskirts of the land owned by the Davies brothers and headed for the park entrance, I instantly got an indescribable feeling of safety. Even though it was not my home, I felt completely connected with the place. I loved it here, and the things I loved about it were too numerous to articulate. Although I could never imagine moving out of our home and saying goodbye to the backyard I worked so hard on, I would be first in line if Walter started selling some of this land for the purposes of building homes.

Without any more time to spend thinking, I had to somehow garner the focus that I had earlier and really get things moving today. First thing on the agenda was stopping by the main office to get my crew rosters from Becky. After that I would grab a large coffee and perhaps a bagel at the employee kitchen and then send a text out to my crew to set up a meeting at which I’d hand out and discuss the rosters. After that it would be time to get dirty.

Our inventory of live specimens needed to get in the ground. I wanted the entire staging area to be empty by the week’s end. The deliveries would keep coming as they always did this time of year. In fact, I was expecting a giant delivery of mulch and topsoil to replenish our dwindling supply. I’d have to check the status on that. It would be coming from one of our local suppliers and, usually, they’d just give us a holler the morning of the day they were coming. I had to make sure a crew would be on site at our concrete storage enclosures to help minimize the mess when the trucks dumped their payloads.

We’d ordered more annuals than in previous years as we’d found a new supplier down in Florida that had proved to be very reliable. We even ordered a bunch of crape myrtle trees that were not exactly hardy in our zone—but Walter had recently developed an obsession with the tree and it was his special request. And besides, the ones we had growing at the lake so far were doing quite well. Garden centers that stocked crape myrtles were difficult to locate in our region due to the harsh winters but with careful placement and a hardy heaping of mulch for the winter months we’d had great success with the myrtles we planted so far.

Walter insisted that Junction Lake had its very own weather that differed slightly from the rest of the immediate region. He claimed that there were some unique elements or properties driving the weather that Junction Lake enjoys—weather that consistently defied the commonly understood plant hardiness zones. Although I was skeptical at first of Walter’s odd claim, I had to admit that the winters at the lake were not nearly as consistently frigid and windy as some locales just miles away. The U.S. Hardiness Zones map posted at the Arbor Day website had us at zone five. From my own experience at Junction Lake with plants and trees surviving the winters, I would be less than truthful if I didn’t acknowledge that the winter weather at Junction Lake behaves more like zone six, or dare I even say, zone seven.

We secured a few large specimens of the more temperate variety of Walter’s beloved crape myrtles from local garden centers but Walter implored me to locate more extensive selections of the summer blooming tree, with its abundant and colorful flowering foliage. I searched as far as eastern Long Island, where I found some quite sizeable specimens. I had to get the okay from Walter to arrange to have them shipped up at his expense—he complied of course. But I truly struck gold with our new supplier down in Florida as they hooked me up with a nursery, also in Florida, that offered many new and hardy variants of the species. The best part was that they shipped their specimens all over the place. They were on the small side, but they would give us the opportunity to uniquely cultivate some new areas with the multi-trunked, flowering beauties. However, the nursery down in Florida duly warned me that the trees I wanted were not guaranteed north of zone seven. Although, they did mention that mine was not the first request they’d ever received to ship crape myrtles beyond their recommended zones. When I explained our success with the trees in the past, the intrigued yet somewhat unconvinced nursery owner requested photos of our myrtles thriving in southern New Hampshire. He has since become a believer.

I’d mentioned to Walter that I’d located some new myrtles down in Florida, but he had no idea that the mother lode was currently on its way to us. I’d already discussed with him some of the locations in the park where we both thought they would thrive, but since then I had brainstormed a few concepts that I was bursting to share with him. The trees were fast growers so it would be exciting to see them establish themselves throughout the park. Most varieties of the species sported multiple trunks with peeling bark that revealed a new layer of smooth bark underneath, ranging in color from cinnamon to creamy white and gray as the tree matured. The varieties of flowers, which appeared in clusters referred to as panicles, ran the gamut from pinks to lavenders to purples to vibrant reds and even bright whites. Some newer varieties even offered multicolored two-tone flower clusters all summer season long. And as if that wasn’t enough, the trees had amazing vibrant orange and red fall foliage.

As I already mentioned, these were not enormous trees when full grown. In fact, they were on the small side, ranging from ten to thirty feet tall. This allowed me to be extremely versatile as far as a landscape plan went, there being so many places where such a beautiful tree or groupings of such trees would fit in without one day overtaking the area. I even planned on flanking a walkway with the new arrivals. My intention was that as they matured, and with a little pruning, they would eventually form a canopy over the walkway. The adjacent trees would touch branches overhead, creating a verdant tunnel that would explode with colors during the summers. We could even light them up at night, showing off the interesting sculptural forms of the trees’ smooth multi-trunked growing habits.

I’d never doubted that Walter would approve of a plan of mine. We’d clicked from day one and had never butted heads since. It was a great feeling to be able to work for someone like Walter. It rarely felt like work—even during the hot, sweaty summer season. We were lucky at Junction Lake during the summer months because, even though we had our share of oppressively humid summer days, the lake seemed to keep the humidity to a minimum most of the time with its inviting summer breeze. What more could anyone ask for?

∞∞∞

I was able to refocus on my work responsibilities so easily that I wondered if I was in my right mind. Even if I had been adjusted by someone or something on a subconscious level, as I knew Mia had been, it was still unfathomable that I was not cowering under my desk after this morning’s encounter. I knew that the answer was hidden in my forgotten memories, as I had been so casually made aware of. When I would become reconnected with these buried memories I couldn’t tell. But I hoped it would be sooner than later, as I would be better able to understand the scope of what was taking place as it pertained not only to my own ongoing experiences but to those of Wade and possibly all three off my children. What was the meaning of our involvement with these visitors whose whereabouts were as mysterious as they were themselves? Regardless, someone had obviously been conditioning me for this convergence of realities ever since my early childhood.

As I climbed the outside stairs to my office loft, coffee in hand, my cell phone chimed with a text from Walter. He wanted to meet with Jared and me at four in the afternoon in his office. He actually apologized for interrupting my workday with his request. I accepted, of course, but I would have to stop whatever I was doing a little beforehand to change out of my work attire—I would no doubt be covered in dirt by four o’clock and I could not imagine sitting in Walter’s pristine office in my filthy work clothes.

At my desk, I looked over the rosters that Becky put together for me. They were perfect, per usual for anything that she was involved in. I texted my crew and called for a mandatory meeting in an hour and a half to take place in front of the staging area. That would give them enough time to finish whatever they were in the middle of and also give me some time to make phone calls and check on deliveries. I also gave Rupert—my second in command—a heads up on our indispensable walkie-talkie system to make sure that everyone got the text and was onboard with the meeting.

I had hired Rupert shortly after coming to work at Junction Lake. I’d known him for several years from his job at one of my favorite local nurseries. I had spoken with him many times during my visits there and we always wound up exchanging knowledge about one landscaping related issue or another. Sometimes he would even call me at home when something came in that he thought I might be interested in. He proved to be extremely knowledgeable throughout the years and we had definitely developed a good rapport with each other. In fact, he had recommended many of the products that I used at home. His affinity for organic products was certainly a topic that the two of us bonded on. Although he was extremely happy to come work at Junction Lake, I always felt a little bad about stealing him from the nursery. He wasn’t someone that could easily be replaced. He wasn’t the most creative person when it came to landscaping concepts but he more than made up for it with his green thumb and experience with so many plants and products. He was also great when it came to keeping the crews motivated, especially during the summer months. He always knew where everyone was at all times and I was lucky to have him working with me. He drove a mean front loader to boot and could unload and sort a delivery in no time at all. He actually taught me all the various nuances involved in operating the versatile little vehicle. It was actually his idea to construct our cement storage containers—where we keep all our mulch, topsoil, and gravel—so that their contents could be easily accessed. Before we had the storage area, all these materials just sat in piles in a clearing behind the equipment sheds. Rupert borrowed the concept from the nursery that I stole him from and we’d implemented the storage area almost as soon as we could hire a contractor to construct it.

I was about halfway through my morning phone calls when Jared chimed in. I clicked over to take his call.

What up, brotha? he greeted me.

Morning, Jared. Are you beaming about our meeting with Walter later on today?

My high beams are beamin’ that’s for sure. Just makin’ sure you got the memo. I just finished walkin’ our girl and she is ready to roar. That is one quality contraption that we have there, as I have said so many times before. We have toddler rides that need more maintenance than she does.

Jared, man, I’ve got some crazy shit to tell you.

Well, unpucker that bunghole, Waynewright, and let that shit fly. I ain’t got all day, ya know.

Ha! That’s a new and nasty one. I don’t think I’ve heard you use that one before.

"Yeah, I just came up with it. Pie hole, bunghole—they’re interchangeable. If you’ve got some crazy shit to tell me, now ain’t that shit gonna be flyin’ outta your mouth? Ya see how my mind works?"

Unfortunately, I do. Anyway, you sure do come up with some crazy shit.

Yes, I do! Jared laughed. I’m a very talented individual, as you must know by now. But I’m still waitin’, Waynewright. You gonna spill it or not?

"I don’t know what to tell you first, Jared. I guess in chronological order I should tell you that I had a very informative get-together with my mysterious goddess from another dimension last night. Then, shortly afterwards, I found a very interesting use for that little wand thingy. Oh, and then on my way to work this morning, your friends the Greys showed up in the middle of nowhere and asked for it back."

"Whoa! Waynewright! Slow it down a bit! Let’s back that up just a tad. What the hell did you just tell me? Did I hear any of that correctly?"

You did. A lot has happened since I left work yesterday.

Shit, Waynewright! You sure know how to mess with someone’s day. I’ve got so much to do right now, and here I am with my ear glued to my phone. Crazy glued! Lemme hook up my little earpiece so I can go hands free while you whisper sweet insanities in my ear, he said. A momentary muffled ruckus followed.

You there? I asked, as silence replaced the ruckus.

Yeah, now shoot. Let it roll, my brotha.

"I’m pressed for time too, Jared, and I’ve got a crew meeting scheduled in a little bit, so I apologize in advance because your mind will explode."

C’mon, Waynewright, stop hypin’ it and start pipin’ it—let’s go.

Okay. Last night after having a talk with Wade about his more than human abilities that I will have to fill you in on at another time, I was in my bedroom—lying there watching some television—and I fell asleep. Some time shortly after, I feel someone caressing the back of my head. I pop up, thinking it’s Mia and that she must have just gotten home from her book club. Jared, I’m telling you, I must have hit the ceiling—it wasn’t Mia sitting on the bed looking down at me.

What?! What are you sayin’, Waynewright?!

"Yeah, just wait. There is much more."

Holy fuck, Waynewright! You sure you weren’t dreamin’?

No.

You’re not sure?

"No! I mean, Yes. I am sure. This was no dream. She addressed that almost immediately. It was weird—the television screen was all staticky but it was in like slow motion or something. So she comes over to where I’m standing—kind of in front of the TV now after I’d jumped from the bed when I realized it was her. She tells me to take her hand and feel that she is real. And then she sits me down and starts telling me all this stuff. There was so much. I couldn’t possibly even begin to recite it now. Suffice it to say that there was a lot she said about the human soul, and some sort of interdimensional war going on to control human evolution. She said that there is something hidden in the human soul, and there are all these intelligences, as she calls them, that all want a piece of it. Some of these intelligences, including hers and her allies, are here to help humans, or some humans, to become aware of what we are. She told me that other groups are here to exploit us for their own sinister agendas, and to keep us in the dark as it pertains to our understanding or discovery of what we really are and what we may become. She made it sound like there are even more groups out there—unaffiliated I guess—that are just here to watch what is taking place. She said they just stand by and do nothing—like they’re spectators or something."

"Duncan, do you see what’s goin’ on here?! Ask yourself why she’s tellin’ ya all this, Duncan—ask yourself. I think you may be a contactee, Duncan. Like those people from the fifties and all who claimed to have had communications with extraterrestrials. It was a very popular thing back in the day but now I think most of these contactees have been dismissed as hoaxers. Some of them wound up formin’ some outlandish cults or somethin’. They had followers and everythin’. And some still do—you’ve heard of this shit. There are some to this day that claim to be havin’ ongoin’ contact. They write books and all ’bout what they’re told. People come from all over the world to see them talk ’bout it. Most of it is all lovey-dovey shit but some of it gets pretty deep—like what you’re tellin’ me. Now that I’m puttin’ the pieces together, I did read ’bout this one-armed farmer guy in like Switzerland or somethin’ who claims to have ongoin’ contacts with a female extraterrestrial, just like you. She looks human and all—just like your girlfriend, Duncan. I don’t think she prances ’round like some sexy space clown or anythin’ like that but, even so, it’s pretty weird, right? This guy had like pictures and movie footage of their ships and all. He even claimed to have gone onboard their ships. I think he’s been written off