Gentle reader, I submit the following to you: it's true from beginning to end. Part of the story contains a daydream of mine. Nonetheless the entire story is true....
My cousin Chris and I went fishing together at Santa Ana River Lakes last Saturday night. It was a beautiful night under the stars. A fire going nearby, our bellies full of In-N-Out and Coors Light, we were feeling content, fat and sassy. With our poles in the water, we had nothing to do but continue to drink our beer and talk about the random, sometimes esoteric, things that guys talk about. Above us, the sky was treating us with meteors coming alight (better known as "shooting stars"). At one point Chris looked pointedly at me and asked
"Do you believe in UFO's"?
"You mean spaceships piloted by aliens from another planet"? I ask.
"Yeah man. UFO's."
I said "I do believe that we are not alone in the universe. I think it is idiotic to be so self-centered, so self-absorbed, given the incomprehensible vastness of space, to think that we are the only so-called "intelligent" life-forms that inhabit the universe. Our little planet is nothing but a small insignificant speck of dust in the big scheme of things. It is virtually impossible for there not to be other "intelligent beings" out there. The vast majority of astrophysicists would tell you the same thing. However, just like the astrophysicists, I do not believe that they are visiting our planet in spaceships."
"Huh.", he says. "So you don't believe the stories of people who have seen UFO's, or stories of people who have actually been abducted and taken aboard alien spacecraft and had experiments performed on them"?
"No.", says I. "I do not believe that those stories are factual. I believe that some of the people telling those stories believe that it actually happened to them, in other words, I believe that they believe it. But as for me? I don't believe in aliens visiting earth and sometimes even abducting inhabitants of our planet."
"Huh.", he says again.
And that was the end of that particular conversation. As time went on we talked of women, sports cars, women, guns, women, beer, women, sports, etc, etc. You know, guy talk. All the while enjoying the beautiful Southern California evening, our crackling fire, the substantial supply of beer at our disposal, and the occasional shooting star.
Then it happened: my pole bent nearly in half, the reel started buzzing loudly as line was being stripped from it. I had a fish on the line and it looked like it was going to be a big one. I sprang from my beach chair, grabbed my pole from its holder and waited for the next significant "tug". Which came almost immediately. I quickly brought the rod-tip straight up, thus setting the hook into the fish, and now the fight was on.
It was an epic battle. Man against beast. I was using my wits to outsmart the creature, and he was using his wits to try and escape me. The battle raged for hours (well, actually it was about four minutes) before I was finally able to bring the creature ashore. It turned-out to be a catfish. Considering the lake we were fishing it was a very good-sized catfish. Around six or seven pounds.
With Chris helping to hold the fish, I carefully used my needle-nosed pliers to remove the hook from its throat (it was embedded rather deep), and then held the fish up for me and Chris to examine. He was a magnificent looking fish. Perfect markings, muscular and healthy, a prime specimen. I asked Chris if he wanted the fish, to take home and cook. He said that although he loved catfish, the thought of having to clean and gut the thing just sounded like too much damn work. I wholeheartedly agreed with him. The prospect of arriving home and looking forward to a shower and bed - only to have to deal with the fish first - sounded like a damn chore. So it was agreed that we would release him ... hopefully to live a long and happy life.
So I placed the fish into the lake and gently moved him back and forth, allowing water to pass through his gills and re-oxygenate his blood. He finally "came-to", gave a strong swish of his tail, escaped my grasp, and was gone back to his own planet. Chris said that every time he releases a fish he cannot help but wonder how the fish will spend the rest of its life.
Then it dawned on me: what would this fish say to his friends when he returned from his frightening adventure? Would they believe him? Would he himself believe what had just happened? I pictured the conversation going something like this:
"So there I was guys. Just out for a little cruise. I figured I'd grab something to eat before heading home. I saw a nice place to stop, picked-out the food I wanted, and started on my way home. When all of a sudden WHAM!!! This invisible force began to pull my body, like some kind of tractor beam. It was like I was being pulled from the inside. The force kept pulling me higher and higher. I fought with every fiber of my being....but to no avail. Higher and higher I went. Up towards outer-space. Sometimes I was able to fight my way down towards our planet, sometimes I was at the mercy of whatever was pulling me up. Up, down. Up, down. I finally was pulled up past our own atmosphere, into outer-space proper. I could not breathe. I was terrified. Then this huge alien grabbed a hold of me. It was the UGLIEST thing I've ever seen. And there were TWO of them!! Their eyes were not on the sides of their heads, they were on the FRONT of their heads! They both had a strange protrusion beneath their eyes, and each had two other strange protrusions - one on each side of their heads. They did not have dorsal fins that I could see, but their pectoral fins each had five weird appendages. The appendages seemed to be jointed and prehensile. And one of them used these appendages to hold me still while the other produced a strange, exotic surgical instrument of some type. The alien took that surgical instrument and shoved it down my throat. And when pulled out, the instrument held some strange-looking "J"-shaped object...and that "J"-shaped object had been pulled out of the insides of ME"!!
"Oh bullshit, Henry. You sure can tell some whoppers.....but this tale beats them all", says Carl.
"I'm SERIOUS"!!, cries Henry. "It really happened. I'm not fucking with you"!!
"My ass", says Steve. "You're so full of shit your eyes are brown."
"Yep", says Greg. "You sure do have one hell of an imagination there, Henry."
"No, REALLY"!!, says Henry. "Then just when I'm out of air, just when I think I'm toast, they somehow move me back into our atmosphere and manipulate my body in a way that causes me to regain consciousness. I then kicked as hard as I could and hauled-ass outta there. I left those aliens in the dust!! I was way too fast for those giant dumb-fucks. No way were they gonna get a hold of ME again. I sure showed them"!!!
"Uhn-uhnn. Nope. Don't believe it for a second. You gotta put down that bong once in a while Henry", chimes-in Jake.
The others all agree: "Cut back on the weed Henry." "Maybe Narcotics Anonymous would help." "Perhaps cocaine would be a better fit for you." And on and on it went.
"This is no joke!! You gotta believe me guys", pleads Henry . "It really happened. I swear to you."
Finally, among much giggling and name calling, Henry slowly swims towards his home, feeling ostracized by the guys he thought were his friends.
All too quickly, Henry is forever an outcast. Henry's encounter with the aliens would ultimately have him labeled a "weirdo", a "nutcase", a "crazy" by all in his community. Eventually his wife left him, his kids refused to speak to him, he lost his job and the only income he's earned in the past few years was by selling his story to the National Enquirer for $200. (Enquiring fish want to know.)
As for me? Well, I know for a fact that Henry's story is true. Hell, I'm the alien who abducted him. But do I now believe that beings from other planets are visiting Earth? No, I still do not believe that. However, I cannot help but wonder....is Henry's story really all that different from some "Billy-Bob"'s in Arkansas? Lot's of parallels there, if you ask me. Kinda gives you something to think about, eh?
So until next time: Live Long and Prosper, May the Force Be With You, and.....ah hell, try not to make fun of somebody who tells you about their alien encounter. Because aliens DO exist. How do I know? The alien is me.
Cheers,
Jimmy