Millennial Hospitality Hall - Millennial Hospitality.pdfThis book is a work of fiction. Places,...

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Transcript of Millennial Hospitality Hall - Millennial Hospitality.pdfThis book is a work of fiction. Places,...

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MillennialHospitalityBy

CharlesJamesHall

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Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Places,events,andsituationsinthisstoryarepurelyfictional.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,is

coincidental.

©2002byCharlesJamesHall.Allrightsreserved.

Nopartofthisbookmaybereproduced,storedinaretrievalsystem,ortransmittedbyanymeans,electronic,mechanical,photocopying,recording,orotherwise,without

writtenpermissionfromtheauthor.

ISBN:1-4033-6873-2(E-book)ISBN:1-4033-6874-0(Paperback)ISBN:1-4033-7670-0(Dustjacket)

1stBooks–rev.04/25/03

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ContentsForward

AcknowledgementsMyPlaceWindSong

RangeFourHarryFour-TheGovernment’sNumber

RequisitionRouletteInitiationRite

IsItForNothing?OlympicTryoutsInMemoryofMeTumbleweeds

MillennialHospitalityDoxologyMissteps

PaperbackHeroTheTeacher

TheHappyCharadeSummerRain

AllThataManHasRiteofPassageAbouttheAuthor

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ForwardIhaveenjoyedtellingfamily,friends,andthewonderfulpeoplewhomIhavemetatbooksigningsthe

storyofhowtheMillennialHospitalityseriescameintobeing.Ithoughtotherreadersmightliketohearitaswell.Over the last 18 years, from time to time when I entered the room where my husband sat at the

computer,Inoticedthathewouldquicklyshutthescreenthathewasworkingon.WhenIaskedhimwhathewasdoing,sometimeshewouldanswer,“Nothing”or“Justrelaxing”.Other times,hewouldsay thathewasworkingonabook. InMayof2002,hebecameunemployed.

Afterhewasamonth intounemployment, thisscenario repeated itself.Hesaidhewasworkingonhisbook.Isaid,“Well,youknow,ifyoudietomorrow,thereisnowayIamgoingtogohuntingthroughthemanyfilesyouhave,tolookforanybook.Isuggestthatyouprintsomeofthatoutrightnow;Iwouldliketoseeit.”Charlessaid,“Whichbookdidyouwanttosee?”“Whatdoyoumean,whichbook?Howmanybooksdoyouhaveinthere,”Iasked?Hesaid,“Oh,acouple,three.”Naturally,whenIsawsomeof thechapters,Iwasdeterminedthatweshouldpublishit. I felt itwas

excellentmaterialanditshouldbepickedupbyoneofthemajorhouses,butIknewthatwouldtaketimeandsincenoincomewascomingintoourhouse,wedecidedtoselfpublish.Themanuscriptneedededitingbadly,partiallybecausehehadstartedthebooksonanoldTandy2000

and therewere technical difficulties in retrieving it. Themajor problem I hadwith the bookwas themacholanguagehethoughtheneededtouse.MydaughterandIwereuptothetaskofeditingthematerialandCharleswasmuchinagreementwhenwetoldhimthatthestorywassogood,theswearwordsaddednothingandfurthermore,deletingthemwouldmakethebookappropriateformid-schoolers.Well, Charles worked hard implementing all of our corrections, but then, inadvertently used older

unedited files to compile the CD to send to the publisher. I will leave out some of the drama thatfollowed. It slowed thingsdownconsiderably, andbecausewewere soanxious to startmarketingourbooks,Ihadordered500copiesofMillennialHospitalitybeforeIsawoneboundcopy.Wedecidedtoreedit immediatelyandCharlessat fordaysandhandeditedsomeof theworstmistakes fromthe500copies we already had in our house. If you have one of those copies, they have already becomecollector’sitems.Thatwasthenandthisistoday,thedayitisthatyouarebeginningtoreadMillennialHospitality.We

bothhopethatyouwillenjoyreadingitandifyouhavenotalreadyreadMillennialHospitalityIITheWorldWeKnewandMillennialHospitalityIIITheRoadHome,weknowthatyouwillwanttoreadthemaswell.

14February2003Valentine’sDay

MarieThereseHall

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Thisbookisdedicatedtothegreaterhonorandgloryof

GodWhocreatedusall,aliensincluded.

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AcknowledgementsMillennialHospitality is inprintonlybecauseofmywife’s support andencouragement.She is also

responsibleforthebookstitlethedesignforthecover,andwasmychiefeditor.IamalsogratefultotheyoungmenwhomitwasmyprivilegetoservewithduringtheVietnamWaryears.

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MyPlaceAsforman,hisdaysarelikegrass,

heflourisheslikeaflowerofthefield;Thewindblowsoveritanditisgone,Anditsplaceremembersitnomore.

...Psalm10315:16

ThetrainstationindowntownLasVegaswasbeautifulbeyonddescriptionthatFridaymorningwhenIarrived. It was an early spring day in themid 1960’s. Iwas 20, an enlistedman, just out of trainingschool, a weather observer in theUnited States Air Force. Homesick, I stood for a long time on theplatforminmydressblueuniform,outinthebright,hot,beautifuldesertsunshine.Iwatchedthetrainasitpulledslowlyawayfromthestationandheadedout into thebrowndesert to thesouthwest towardLosAngeles.Istoodtherewatchingsilently,alone.Asthetraindisappearedfarawayintotheheatwavesandinto thedistance, itseemedas if theworldIhadknowndisappearedwith it.At last I turnedaroundtoviewmy newworld. Itwas aworld full of flashing lights, ringing bells,money-filled slotmachines,blackjacktables,andscantilycladwaitresses,forwhichthecitywasalreadyfamous.Icouldhardlyhavebeenmoreeagertoenterthisworld,bywayofitsdoorwayatCasinoCenter.ItseemedasifIhadnothingtofearexcept,perhaps,gettingmydressblueuniformmuddyfromthegrassinfrontofme.Thegrasswashalf covered with water from the nearby natural springs. It formed the beautiful well-watered set ofmeadowsforwhichLasVegashadbeennamed.“WhatanicerelaxingtouchofLasVegashospitality,”Ithoughttomyself.“Mylifenowhasitall.Ithasbeautiful,scantilycladwomen,grassgreenmoney,andmoneygreengrass.”LittledidIknowatthetime,mylifewouldverysoonhavedesertafternoonsspentindesperatelifeordeathstrugglesandmoonlitdesertnightsfilledwithwhiteterror.Forthenexttwoandahalfyears,myassignedplacewouldalternatebetweenthebaseatDesertCenter,andthegunneryrangesatMojaveWells.AsIstoodwatching,anAirForcemastersergeantinhisearly30’sgotoutfromadarkblueUSAFvan

parkednearby.Hegreetedmeasheapproached,“I’mMasterSergeantWalters.You’reAirmanCharlesBaker,aren’tyou?”“Yes,”Iresponded.“I’mAirman2ndClassCharlesBaker,reportingforduty.”“Placeyourduffelbaginthevan,andwe’llgetstarted,”heresponded.“Wehaveamightylongdrive

down to the southwest to get to theDesertCenterAirBase. It’s several hundredmiles.We’ll have tomakegoodtimeifweintendtoarrivebeforethechowhallcloses.”“Igotoffattherightplace,didn’tI?”Iasked.“Ohyes,yes.Ofcourseyes,”heinsisted.“EventhoughLosAngelesiscloser,thedriveintothetrain

stationindowntownL.A.issuchaheadache,we’dallrathercometheextramilesupheretoLasVegas.”“IftheAirForcehadpermittedit,Icouldhavetakenthebusfromthetrainstationhere,downtoDesert

Center,”Ivolunteered.“Oh,no!Of course, not!” exclaimed the sergeant. “Thosebus connections are confusingand thebus

ride takes forever.Only someonewho reallyknowshiswayaround the southwest shouldeverattemptthat.ThelongdriveupheretoLasVegasinagovernmentvanisnotroubleatall.We’rehappytodoit.It’sfuncomingintoLasVegas.Weevengettoplaytheslotmachinesaswewait.“Firstofall,Ihavetomakesurethatyouknowyourboundaries.Ihavetomakesurethatyouknowyour

place.As soon aswe arrive atDesertCenter this evening, you’ll sign in and be issued a bunk in the

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barracks.ThenMonday,whenyoureportfordutyattheweatherstation,we’llissueyouanoff-dutypass.Yourpasswillpermityoutotravelasfaras450milesawayfromtheDesertCenterbasewheneveryouarenotonduty.Sowhenyouhavethetimeandmoneyandyouarenotonduty,youwillbeabletotravelintoL.A.,SanDiego,Yuma,LasVegas,ortoanytownin-between.Youcanonlytraveloutsideofthoseboundariesifyouhavebeenissuedspecialleavepapers.”“Iunderstand,”Iresponded.“Tonight,ourcommander,themajor,hasinvitedeveryoneinthedetachmenttoattendhisbirthdayparty

at theDesertCenterofficers’ club.Todayhe turned42.Ofcourse, enlistedmensuchasyouand I arenormallynotallowed in theofficersclub.Likeallenlistedmen,wehave to learnourplace.Tonight’spartyisspecial.Itstartsat9:00p.m.Putonyourdressuniform,andbesuretoattend.”“I’llbethere,sergeant,”Ianswered.ThedrivedowntoDesertCenterwasalongone.Iwasquitetiredbythetimewearrived.Isignedin,

foundmybunk,andjustbarelymadeittothechowhallbeforeitclosed.ThenIsleptfor3hoursorso,beforegettingdressedandheadingovertotheofficers’clubfortheparty.The weather detachment was typically small. It contained barely 18 officers and men. I paid no

attention when master sergeant Walters stated, “Not everyone is here. Sullivan from Mojave Wellscouldn’tmakeit,”orwhenDwightresponded,laughing,“Maybetonight,Sullivan’spartyingwithRangeFourHarry.”Itwasawonderfullycarefreepartywith loudmusic,severalyoungwomen inattendanceand lotsof

dancing.Iwasfinishingmythirdglassofbeerwhenamiddle-agedladycameuptomeandaskedmetodance.WithoutthinkingIresponded,“No.Idon’twanttodancewithyoubecauseyou’retooold.”Shebecamequiteupsetandstompedoff.Theparty,thedrinking,thedancing,andthelaughtercontinuedlateintothenightuntilclosingtime.Mondaymorning came. I reported for duty at theweather station.Master sergeantWalters tookme

outsidetotheparkinglotforashortfatherlytalk.Heexplainedthattheolderwomanattheparty,whohadasked me to dance, was the major’s wife. Everyone else had spent the evening dancing with her.Everyone,thatis,exceptthemajorandI.HerecommendedthatthefirstthingIshoulddo,thismorning,was to apologize to themajor for turning down hiswife.Aswewere going back inside theweatherstation,themajorsummonedmeintohisofficeandhadmesitdown.Heclosedthedoorandbeganinfatherlytones,chucklingashedidso,“YouknowairmanBaker,you’re

thefirstmilitaryman thathaseverknownhisplaceandhasalsoshownmywifeherplace.You’re theonlymanherewhodoesn’twanttodancewithmywife.IcanseerightoffthatyouandIaregoingtobegreatfriends.Yessir,airman.You’retheonlymanhereIcantrustaroundmywife.Icanseethatyou’regoingtofitrightinaround

here.Thisisdefinitelyyourplace.”

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WindSongWhatismanthatyouaremindfulofhim,thesonofmanthatyoucareforhim?

Youmadehimalittlelowerthantheangels,youcrownedhimwithgloryandhonor

andputeverythingunderhisfeet.

...Hebrews2:6

Springtimewas beautiful at Desert Center. It had rained a few days earlier and the sagebrushwascoveredwithbeautifulpurpleflowers.Itwasjustpast2:00intheafternoononthisbreathtakingspringday.Iwassittinginmybarrackswith

thedooropen,lookingoutacrossthedistantseaofpurplesageflowers.IwasquitehomesickandIwaswonderinghowthingswerebackinWisconsin.ThewindsonthisMondayafternoonhadbeenmodest,butthegustswerequitehigh.Thedoortomyroomopenedtotheleesideofthebarracks.Watchingthewindsperiodicallyblowhugepatchesofdesert sandacross thesagebrush, I found it tobea relaxing,almostmusicalexperience.Iwassitting there,quietlyengaged inhumming tunes to themusicof thewindswhenmymelancholy

worldwasshatteredbytheringingtelephone.Answeringthephone,Isaid,“Barracksfour.AirmanBakerspeaking.”ThevoiceontheotherendwastheoperatorattheDesertCentertower.Hesoundedterrified.“Baker!

ThankGodyou’rethere!”heexclaimed.I didn’t have the faintest idea how to respond, so I responded humorously, “Well, I have so many

impostorsthatI’vetakentointroducingmyselfastherealAirmanBaker,”Ilaughed.Withoutlaughing,theoperatorcontinuedinthesameterrifiedtoneofvoice.“We’reindesperatetrouble

here.Weneedyouattheweatherstationimmediately.”“I don’t understand,” I responded. “McIntyre isworking the day shift today. I haven’t heard of any

problems.Certainly themajor and sergeantWalters knowwhere to findme if theydecide I’mneededdownatthestation.”“IknowthatCharlie.Ican’tofficiallyaskyoutorelieveMcIntyredownattheweatherstation,butI’m

askingyouasa friend todowhateveryoucan tohelpus. IhavesixF105fighters trappedaloft in thiswind.They’redowntolessthan30minutesoffuelandwe’realldesperate.Theycan’tlandinthiswindandtheycan’tparachuteout.Nobodyknowswhattodo.McIntyrehaskeptthemcirclingforhours.I’vealreadytriedaskingthemajorandsergeantWalterstoaskyoutocomeinbuttheyrefuse.TheysaythatMcIntyreistheassigneddutyobserverandtheywon’trelievehimofhisdutiesjustbecauseIrequestit.Ifyoujustgodowntothestation,you’llseeimmediatelywhattheproblemis.Look,mycaptainiscomingand I don’twant him to know I called you. I’m breaking all of the regulations and he’ll bemad as ahatter.”Thentheoperatorsuddenlyhungupthephone.Curiousnow,Iquicklyputonmyuniformandhurriedthe

mile to theweatherstation.SinceIdidn’twant to raiseanyeyebrows, Iquietlyenteredusing thebackdoor.InsideMcIntyrewasworkinghappilyintheteletyperoom.Hewashummingapleasanttuneashetypedupanotheroneofhisweatherreports.“How’sthingsgoing,McIntyre?”Iaskedpleasantly.“Oh,justfine,oldman.”herepliedhappily.“Ican’ttalkrightnow,though.I’mrightinthemiddleof

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typingupthesereports.”“I seesomeF105scirclingaroundout there. I suppose theyprobablyneed toknowwhatyour latest

windreportis,”Icontinued.“Yes,Ijustgaveittothetower,”respondedMcIntyreinhissamehappywarriortoneofvoice.“Ijust

closed thebaseagainyouknow,oldman.They’ll justhave towaituntil thiswind letsup.Thewindsshouldbelettingupprettysoon.See,theselatestwindsthatSullivanjustphonedinfromMojaveWells?Seetheyarelightandvariable,allthewayupto20,000feet.BoththeforecasterandIfigurethewindshereatDesertCenteraresuretoletuprealsoon.”Oneglanceattheweatherreportingformsshowedtheproblemimmediately.McIntyrehadopenedand

closedthebasemorethan250timessincetheinversionbrokeat10:00a.m.thismorning.Everytimeagustofwindstarted,heclosedthebase.Everytimethegustended,heopenedthebase.TheflightofsixF105swasobviouslymousetrappedbyhis indecision.Icouldseewhythetowerhadphonedme.Yet,strictly speaking,McIntyrewas actually conforming to all of the rules and regulations.Themajor andsergeantWaltershadnoreasonwhatevertorelievehimofhisduties.McIntyreandtheweatherforecasterwere basing their decisions on theMojaveWells wind reports. Likewise, every report fromMojaveWellssupportedtheweatherforecastandMcIntyre’sdecisions.Yes,Icouldseetheproblemimmediately.Guessing the planes to be down to less than 20minutes of fuel, I entered the teletype roomwhere

McIntyrewasworking.There in theprivacyof the small room, I gently said toMcIntyre, “Youknow,McIntyre,Ioweyoualotoffavors.You’vehelpedmeoutsomanytimes.Rememberjustlastweekyouworkedadoubleshift,yoursandminetoo?”“Oh,thinknothingofit,oldman.”respondedMcIntyre.“Well,today,IthoughtIwoulddosomethingniceforyoutoshowmyappreciation.Iseetheafternoon

movieatthebasetheaterwillstartupatthreeo’clock.It’sthatlatestspyadventuremoviethatyouhavewantedtosee.Iknowyou’reprobablyshortoncashbecauseIknowthatyouhelpoutyourmotherbackhome,soItellyouwhat.Here’sfivedollars.I’llrelieveyoufortherestoftheafternoon.Yougoseethatmovieyou like somuch, and I’ll have a clear conscience. It reallymeant a lot tome,McIntyre, thosetimesyou’veworkedmyshiftsforme,anddidn’ttell theMajor.YourememberhowIwassosickyouhadtohelpmebacktothebarracksthatonemorning.Ijustneedtosaythanks.”McIntyre’sfacelitupashetookmyfivedollars.“Gee,thanks,oldman.That’sreallyniceofyou.I’ll

takeyouuponthat.Firstthough,Ibetterfinishtypingthisup.”“I’llbehappytodothatforyou,McIntyre,”Isaid.“You’lljustbarelyhavetimetomakeitovertothe

theaterasitis.Here,I’llsigninshowingI’mrelievingyou.Youheadouttheback.Nosenseinthemajorandothersaskingtoomanyquestions.Theyhavetheirproblems.Youandme,well,wehaveours.Youbesuretohavefunnow.”“Thanksoldman,”happilyexclaimedMcIntyreashesignedoutandexitedthroughthebackdoor.Iquicklysignedinasthedutyobserver.IpickeduptheemergencyphonetotheDesertCentertower.

Thetoweroperatoransweredwiththatsamedesperatetoneinhisvoice,“DesertCentertower”Speakingquietlyandclearlyintothephone,Isaid,“ThisisairmanBaker.I’mthedutyobserverforthe

restoftheafternoonandalsoforthisevening’sswingshift.Iwanttomakesureyouguysknowthatthebaseisclosed.”“Charlie,it’syou!”exclaimedtheoperator.“Where’sMcIntyre?”“He’sdoingmeafavorandcheckingoutthewomeninthelatestspyfilmoveratthebasetheater,”I

answered,nonchalantly.“What’sthestatusonthosesixF105sIseecirclingoutthere.”“Unless you can thinkof away to get themonto the runway, they’re going to have to crash into the

desertin15minutes,”respondedtheoperator.“Wehaveallofthefiretrucksandambulancesdeployed

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alongtherunway.Nobodyknowswhattodoaboutthosewindsandthatblowingsandoutthere.Fiveofthemareyoungpilotsandneedwindslessthan20milesanhourandatleastonemileofvisibilitytoland.The sixth one is the flight leader.He can take higherwinds but he still needs the visibility to see therunway.”Icouldseetheproblemimmediately.They’dalltakenoffinthecalmwindsofthemorningwhilethe

basewas still coveredwithabubbleofcoldair.Theyhadall takenona full loadof fuel incase thewinds started up before they could return fromMohaveWells.When they returned from the gunneryranges,theydiscoveredthatMcIntyrewouldn’tpermanentlyclosethebase.Hadhedoneso,theycouldhave all just headed off for some other place with no wind, like YumaArizona. Yet, whenMcIntyreopenedthebase,theweatherwouldn’tactuallyletthemland.TheyhadthereforebeenmousetrappedintocirclingoverDesertCenterforseveralhours.Disasterwasnowthreateningallofthem.“How longwould thesepilots spend in the landingapproach, if theydid it as fast as theycould?” I

askedthetoweroperator.“Twominutes,”wastheanswer.Checkingthewindrecorder,Isaidtothetoweroperator,“That’stoofastforthesenewguystoadjustto

thesechangingwinds.Haveallsixairplanesusealonger,moregradualapproach.Ifyoucan,makeitlastexactlyfiveminutes.That’llgivethemmoretimetoadjusttothechangingwindswhenthey’returningandlanding.“Havethemmaketheentireapproachwiththeirgeardown.Thatway,whenthey’reflyingblindinthe

sandontheendoftheapproachpath,theirplaneswillhandlethesameaswhentheywereflyingintheclear.”“Roger.Copy,”respondedthetoweroperator.Icontinued,“Thewindgustshavebeenveryregular,almostmusicallytimed.Thewindhashadguststo

50milesperhour lastingalmostexactlyoneminute, then thewindhas letup to15milesperhour foralmostexactlyoneminute.Whenthewindisgusting,theblowingsandobscureseverything,butwhenthewindletsup,thepilotcanseeformiles.I’llgooutsideonthetarmacwhereIcanfeelthewindandstillseemywindrecorder.Don’thavetheplanesentertheapproachpathuntilIgivetheword.I’mgoingtohavethementertheapproachpathwhilethewindisgusting.Remember,they’llbeenteringtheapproachpathblind.Havethemlowertheirgearwhilethey’restillintheclear.“I’mgoingtotimeitsothegustletsupjustbeforetheyreachtheendoftherunway.Thatway,they’llbe

abletolandinthatnearlycalmperiodwhichhappensinbetweengusts.I’mgoingtohavethementertheapproachpathtwominutesapart,soyoumayhaveasmanyasthreeonfinalapproachatthesametime.”“Roger,”respondedtheoperator.“That’snoproblem.Therearethreeofusuphere.”“Have the fire trucks and ambulances re-deploy so they’remarking the exit ramps from the runway.

Thatway,onceaplanelands,hecancleartherunwayevenifthesandstartsblowingagain,”Icontinued.“Roger,copy.”respondedthetower.“Remember,eachplaneentersthefinalapproachoneatatime,andeachplanewaitsformetosaygo,”

Iremindedthem.AshortpausefollowedasthetowerexplainedtheinstructionstotheF105s.“Roger,”saidthetower.

“Rightaboutnowthey’rereadytoagreetoanything.”Iwatchedthewindrecordercarefully.Ialsostudiedthesandcarefullyasthewindblewitpastmein

analmostmusicalfashion.Then,twentysecondsintotheblowingsand,Ihadtimedthegustcarefully,Itoldtheoperator,“StartthefirstF105”“Roger,copy,”respondedthetower.Twominuteslater,IorderedthesecondF105tobeginhisapproach.Itimedthewindgustscarefully.

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Fourminuteslater,IorderedthethirdF105tobeginhisapproach.Asmywatchwascominguponthefive-minutemark,tomygreatrelief,theexistinggustletuponscheduleandthefirstF105,1000feetovertheendoftherunwayasexpected,wasnowabletoland.Afterdroppingontotherunwayasrequested,helethisfighterrolltofarendoftherunwayandexitedimmediatelyontothetaxiway.Amidthecheersfromthetoweroperators,Icontinuedtimingthewindgustscarefully.Now,sixminutes

frommystartingpoint,IorderedthefourthF105tobeginhisapproach.Inlikefashionthesecondfighterlandedinbetweengustsaftersevenminutes.Itbecamealmostlikeplayingthepiano.AftereightminutesIordered the fifth F105 to begin his approach, and after nineminutes Iwatched the third F105 land inbetween gusts.After tenminutes I ordered the flight leader-the sixth F105-to enter the approach path.AfterelevenminutesIwatchedthefourthF105land.HavingnomoreF105stoorderintotheapproachpath,therewasnothingelseformetodobuttimethegustsandwatchasthefifthF105landedafter13minutes.ThelasttwominutesseemedtopasslikehoursasIwaitedfortheflightleadertocompletehisapproachpath.Rightonschedule,afteratotaloffifteenminuteshadpassed,thelatestwindgustletup.Asthesandcleared,theflightleader’sF105couldbeseen1000feetup,overtheendoftherunway.AshisF105wasjusttouchingdownontherunway,hisengineflamedout.Hisfueltankswereabsolutelydry.Asthenextgustofsandovertookhim,hisplanerolledsafelytoastopinthemiddleoftherunway.It took severalminutes for the cheering to calm down in the tower. The operator came back tome

shouting,“Charlie!Youdidit!Idon’tknowhowyouwereabletotimeitthatperfectly,butyoudidit!”“Oh,itwasn’tthathard.”Ishrugged.“Itwassortoflikeplayingthepiano.Well,Ibetterletyouguys

handletheairplanes.Ineedtogetthingscleaneduparoundhere.Remember,thebaseiscloseduntilatleastmidnight.”WiththatIsaidgood-byeandhungupthephone.ThenIbusiedmyselfwithmyroutineduties.AsIwas

filingtheweatherreportsontheforecaster’sviewingboard,Iwondered,“Whyare thewindsreportedfromMojaveWellssodifferentfromthewindsblowingoutside?”Ashort timepassed,probablytwentyminutes.AsIwasworkingInoticedanAirForcemaintenance

truckdriveupinfrontoftheweatherstation.Abirdcolonelsteppedangrilyoutofthetruckandstrodeforcefullyuptothedooroftheweatherstation.AsIwatched,hegrabbedtheouterscreendoorwithbothhands.WearingoneofthemostbrutalexpressionsthatIhaveeverseenamanwear,heproceededtotearthe screen door from its hinges. Then, once the door had been thrown to the ground, he proceeded tostompalloverit,kickingandtearingatit,untilnothingbutpiecesremained.“Ah,theflightleader,”Isaidtomyselfquietly.“Iwonderifhe’sbroughthisnapalmwithhim.”Heproceededtoforcefullykickinthedoortotheweatherstation-itwasn’tlockedatthetime-allthe

time screaming, “Where is he?Where is McIntyre? I swear I’m going to strangle him with both myhands.”BoththemajorandsergeantWalterswereshockedintoaction.Themajorandthesergeantcamerunning

intotheobserver’ssectionandbeganshouting,“Where’sMcIntyre?Where’sMcIntyre?”Justthenthebirdcolonelsucceededinbreakingthroughthefrontdoor,physicallykickingitintopieces

as he smashed through its last remains. I could see that the colonel had some pretty definite ideasregarding the rest of the station’s interior decorating as he stomped into the observing portion of thestation-violentlysmashingawoodenchaironthefloorashedidso.Grippingapieceofthebrokenwoodenchairleginhisrightfist,heturnedtothemajor,whowasstill

shoutingatme,“Where’sMcIntyre?”andpointingtome.Thecolonelscreamed,“He’snotMcIntyre,youidiot!He’stheonlyreasonthatanyofusarestillalive!He’stheonegettingthemedalI’mdemandingtheAirForcedeliverforthisfinemess!Nowwhereisthatscrawnylittleweatherobserverthatkeptmeandmymentrappedupthereforthelastfourhours?”

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Icouldseethecolonelwasafineman-createdalittlelowerthanangels,Isuppose-butallinall,stillaprettyfineman.Themajorturntomeinsurpriseandshouted,“IthoughtMcIntyrewasthedutyobservertoday.”Interruptingthemajor,thecolonelscreamed,“Hewas,untilthankGod,thisairmansenthimpacking!

Nowwhereishehiding?”“I’mnot sure.” I respondedpleasantly.“Myattentionwas focusedon theaircraft emergencywe just

had,soIhavenoideawherehemightberightattheminute.”Havingjustsavedsixlives,IdecidedthatImightaswellcontinuethetrendforaseventh.

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RangeFourHarry“Whatdidyougooutintothedeserttosee?

Areedswayedbythewind?”

Luke7:24

“Well,Charlie,”saidDwight,puttingdownhisthermosofcoffee,“You’regoingtogetyourchancetosolve themystery ofRangeFourHarry. I talked themajor into sendingyouup toMojaveWells for atemporary tour of duty-a TDY-starting nextMonday. A TDY up there lasts six weeks. You’ll love it.You’llberelievingSullivan.Hisfouryearsareup,andhe’llbegettingdischargedintendays.”ItwasanotherbeautifulspringmorningatDesertCenterAirForcebase.Themusicofthe’60’swasso

enchanting. Iwas stillproudlywearing twostripes. Iwas just finishing the lastweather report for thenightshift.Thestationclockwasshowing8:00a.m.andDwighthadcometorelievemeforthedayshift.“Youtalkedthemajorintowhat?”Iasked.Dwightwasoneofmyclosestfriends.Surprisingly,Dwight

andhis lovelyyoungwife and childrenhad fewother friends in theDesertCenter area.Dwight and Iwerelikebrothers.Iknewthatwhateverhe’ddone,hemustthinkitwasgoodforme.“MojaveWells, Charlie,” laughedDwight. “You know, theAir Force gunnery ranges up that desert

valleynorthwestofus.You’llbeuptherethefullsixweeks.You’llgetextraTDYmoney.You’llhaveyourownAirForcepickuptrucktodrivewhereveryouwant.

Therewon’tbeanyofficersaround!You’llhaveawonderfultime.”“Thanks,Dwight,”Iresponded.“Butwhyme?”“To tell the truth, Charlie,” responded Dwight. “You’re the only man we have who can handle it.

Summer is almosthere, and the ranges aregoing tobeverybusy.There’ll be a lotof airplanes flyingaroundupthere,soyou’llhaveplentytodo.Themajoragreedwithme,butItellyouCharlie,you’resogood that themajorwas a hardman to convince.Hewanted to keepyouhere to helpout on airplaneemergencies.ThosesixF105syousavedlastspringreallyimpressedhim.Iwasafraidhe’dsay“No”.Ialmostcouldn’ttalkhimintoit.Ireallyhadtoworkonhim,Charlie.”“Man,Dwight,thatwasreallyniceofyou,”Iresponded.“Oh,thinknothingofit,”repliedDwight.“Really,Ididitformyself.First,Igothiscuriosityup.Itold

himthatyou’dsolvethemysteryofRangeFourHarry.Themajorwasn’tgoingtoagree.Thatafternoon,hehadtogoovertotheDesertCenterbasecommander’soffice.Whenhecameback,heagreedwithme.“Yousee,Charlie,summeriscomingon.OldHarrylikesithot.Heiscertaintostartcomingoutagain.

Harry hides up in the mountains during the wintertime, but he always comes out on warm summerevenings.Helikestorunaroundoutonthatdrylakebeduponrangefour.You’resuretoseehim.BoththemajorandI,wereallywanttoknowwhatheis.”“RangeFourHarry?”Iasked.“Yougotmethere,Dwight.I’veneverheardofhim.”“Neverheardofhim,Charlie.”answeredDwight,usingthatsamecalmvoicewhichwashishallmark.

“RangeFourHarryissupposedlyahorsethatgottooclosetoanatomicbombblastthatwassetoffwayupatFrenchmanflatsbackin1954.Itwasrightaftertheblastthatpeoplestartedseeinghim.He’sbeendownhere,outonrangefoureversince.Theradiationburnedhimrealbad,sousuallyhehidesupinthemountains.Butonwarmsummernights,hecomesdownintothevalleyandroamsthenumberfourrangeupatMojaveWells.“Onesideofhimglowsasoftfluorescentwhite.Nooneknowswhattheothersideofhimlookslike.

Everyonewhohastriedtowalkaroundhimandlookathimfromtheotherside,hasgottenburnedpretty

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bad,orattacked.Eitherway,they’veallcomebackscaredstiff.“If you see him, don’t ever try towalk up in front of him and look in his face.Harry doesn’twant

anyonetoseehisface.Thefewpeoplewhohaveseenhimfromthefront,sayhisfaceishuman-like,butveryunusual.Heissaidtohavelargeblueeyesandhisheadisreallarge.Theysayhisfacelookssortoflikethefaceofahorse,andhistailismadeoflongblondhair.”Dwight’sstorywassooutlandishthatitmademechuckle.Dwightactedasifheactuallyexpectedmeto

believehim.“Aradioactivehorsethatglowsinthedark?”Iasked,almostbreakingintoopenlaughter.“Withlarge

blueeyes?Thatranawayfromanatomicbombblastbackin1954?”Itcertainlysoundedlikethekindofmake-believestorythataveteranwouldpullonanewguyjustforfun.“Honest,Charlie,I’veseenhimmyself,andsohasthemajor.”repliedDwight.“YouandthemajorhaveactuallyseenthisRangeFourHarry?”Iaskedhumorously.“Yes, Charlie,” replied Dwight, appearing to be entirely serious. “It used to be that the wind

measurementswerealwaystakenfromtherangefourweathershack.Rangefouristheonethatissofaroutthere.But,everyweatherobserverthatwentoutthere,returnedterrified.TheyrefusedtogooutthereagainbecauseofRangeFourHarry.Thesituationcame toahead threesummersago,whenRigbyandAndersonwereupthere.TheAirForcewasflyingnighttrainingmissionsatbothrangethreeandrangefour. They wanted Anderson to handle the winds at range three and Rigby to handle the windmeasurementsatrangefour.RigbyandAndersonwouldn’tdoit.Theywouldn’tsplituplikethat.Theyinsistedthatitwasjusttoodangerous,andinsistedthatasecondteamoftwoweatherobserverscomeupandhelpthem.”“Theywouldn’tdoit,evenasatwomanteam?”Iasked.“That’sright,”saidDwight.“NeitherRigbynorAndersonwouldgoouttorangefour.Andersonwould

nevergoout thereatall,andRigbywouldn’tgoout therealone.Neitherof themwouldevenconsidergoingoutthereatnight,evenifsomeoneelsewentalongwiththem.TheyinsistedthatRangeFourHarrymadeittoodangerous.“That’snotthehalfofit.RigbyandAndersonwouldneveragreetodoaTDYatMojaveWellsunless

theywerebothtogether.Bythetimetheyweredischarged,they’dbothdonethreetoursofdutyupthere,andtheywerebothabsolutelyterrifiedofRangeFourHarry.Whentheywereoutthereontheranges,theywouldn’tevengotothebathroomalone.“WhentheAirForcewantedtodothenightmissions,bothRigbyandAndersoncamedownhereand

beggedthemajortosendmorementohelpthem.Theysaidthey’dcoverrangethreebecauseSteveandthe rangemaintenancemenwould be therewith them.The rangemaintenancemen are known as ‘TheRangeRats’.They’retheAirForceenlistedmenwhopickupthepracticebombs,maintainthegunneryranges,buildroads,andstuff.Theyallinsistedthatthemajorsendtwomorementocoverrangefour.Toaman, they said oneman couldn’t cover range four on account ofRangeFourHarry.Well, themajordecidedthatheandIwouldgouptheretogethertobewithRigbyandAndersonforacoupleofweeks.Hewantedtoseewhatwasgoingon.Themajorwasdeterminedtogettothebottomofit,sohedecidedthatheandItogether,wouldcoverrangefour.“Onenightonoursecondweek,justafterdarknesshadsetin,themajorandIweresittingintherange

fourlounge.Allofthelightswereturnedout.Wewereouttherealone,justthetwoofus.WehadWayneandSteve,theleadersoftherangerats,takeusouttherewhileitwasstilldaylight.Theyleftusthere,andtheywentbackintorangethree.Stevesaidthey’dcomebackoutforusinthemorning.“Well,inbetweenwindmeasurements,themajorandIwouldlockourselvesintherangefourlounge,

asStevehadsaid.Wesatthereasquietaswecould.Wedidn’tevensayanythingtoeachother.Stevesaid

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thatifwewantedtoseeHarry,wecouldn’ttalkaboveawhisper.Well,weweresittingthere,lookingoutthewindowtowardsthewestwhenwesawhim.“Harrywasjustupthevalleytothenorthwestofthebuildingsatrangefour.Hewasoutoverthatdry

lakebedwhichissoopen.Hewasoutwherethereisn’tanysagebrushoranything.Hemusthavearealsmoothgait,becauseitlookedalmostlikehewasdriftingorfloatingoverthedrypartofthelakebed.“Anyway,hecamesouth,rightpastthewindow.Hewasonlyaboutaquarterofamileaway.Itellyou,

Charlie,themajorandIbothgotarealgoodlookathim.Helookedjustlikealargeglowingfluorescentwhitehorse.“Themajorwassosurprised,hegrabbedmyarm,pointedoutthewindow,andsaid,‘Look,it’sHarry!’

inarealexcitedvoice.Well,justasStevehadsaid,Harryhasnearperfecthearing.MaybetheradiationimprovedHarry’shearingorsomething,becauseassoonasthemajorsaidthattome,RangeFourHarryfiguredoutwewerethere.OldHarryturnedaroundrealfastandtookoff.“ItellyouCharlie,whenitwasover,Iwasscaredstiff.Youshouldhaveseenthemajor.Hewasmore

scaredthananyoneI’veeverseen.Wedidn’ttakeanymorewindmeasurements.NeitherthemajornorIwerefitforduty.Westayedlockedintherangefourloungetherestofthenight.Wehadthedoorlockedandbarricaded.Weusedthechairsandanythingelsewecouldfind.WhenSteveandtherangeratscameouttogetusinthemorning,Ithoughtthemajorwasgoingtokissthemall.ThenthemajordecidedthatbecauseofthedangerfromRangeFourHarry,theroutinewindmeasurementswouldnolongerbetakenfrom range four.Starting thatmorning, all futurewindmeasurementswouldbe taken from range three.Windmeasurementsfromrangefourwouldbetakenonlyunderveryspecialcircumstances,andonlyiftheTDYobserveragreedthatitwassafetodoso.”AfterhearingDwight’sstory, Ihada realproblem.I reallydidn’tknowwhat tobelieve.On theone

hand, his story was so outlandish. It couldn’t possibly be true-a radioactive white horse that floats,terrifyinggrownmenatnight in thedesert?Itseemedas ifIshouldrespondbylaughinguntilmysidesached. Yet, the problem I faced was very simple. Dwight had told other outlandish stories which Ibelievedtobetrue.HisoutlandishstoryofthefamousladysingerwhohadfalleninlovewithhimattheUSO, had survived my cross-examination. According to a biography authored by her close relative,Dwightwastheonlymanthesingerhadeverbeeninlovewith.ThebiographyincludedapictureofthesingersittingwithDwightatatableinaUSO.Then,therewasDwight’sapparentlyunbelievablestoryaboutoneoftheAmericanpresidentskeeping

theRussianambassadorwaitingwhile talkingwithhimandhis father.Onclose inspection, it too,hadsurvivedmycross-examination,completewithapictureinanotherwidelypublishedbook.Thus, Dwight’s story about Range Four Harry causedme quite a problem.Why would Dwight, so

honestinthepast,bemakingupsuchanoutlandishstorynow.WebothknewthatallIhadtodotocheckuponDwight’sstorywastoaskthemajor.After thinkingaboutDwight’sstoriescarefully,IdecidedtoaskDwightsomemorequestions.“What

didHarry’sfacelooklike?”Iasked.“Idon’tknow,Charlie,”respondedDwight.“Inevergottoseeit.AndersonsaidhesawHarryinthe

daylightonetime.Hesaidhehadalargeheadwithchalkywhiteskinandlargeblueeyes.”“YousaythatHarryhasblondehair?”Icontinued.“Ineveractuallygottoseehishair,”respondedDwight.“ButAndersonsaidthatthedayhesawHarry

outinthesunlight,Harryhadnearlytransparentwhiteblondehair.”“ButyousaidyouactuallysawHarry?”Iinquired.“Yes,yes,Iactuallysawhim,”saidDwightseriously,“Sodidthemajor.”“Tellmeagainwhatyousaw.”Isaid.

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“Well,”saidDwight,“Hegaveoffasoft fluorescentwhite light.The lighthurtsyoureyeswhenyoulookinto it,eventhoughthe light isn’tverybright.Hedidn’tmakeanysoundwhenhemoved.Hewasaboutaquarterofamileoffwhenhewasclose.Hecamefromthenorthwest,upalong themountains.Then,whenheleft,hewentbackuptherefromwherehecame.”“Butthelakebedisdry.Isthereanygrassorwaterupthatwayforahorsetoliveon?”Iasked.“No.Noneforatleastfortymiles,”saidDwight.“ButHarrydoesn’tneedgrassandwatertoliveon.”“Hedoesn’t?”Iresponded.“No,” saidDwight. “At least that’swhatSteve says.Steve saysHarrygetshis foodandwater from

someplacerealfaraway,sohedoesn’tneedanywhenhe’saroundhere.”I thoughtabout things foraminute, tryinghardnot to laugh.Then Icontinued.“RigbyandAnderson,

theygottheirdischargefromtheAirForceacoupleofyearsago,didn’tthey?”“Yes,they’relonggone,”saidDwight.“Sullivanhasbeenuptherethelongestofanyonesincethen.”“WhendidtheyfirststartseeingRangeFourHarry?”Iasked.“Well,”saidDwight,“Rigbywasonhisfirst tourofdutyatMojaveWellswhenHarryfirst terrified

him.Hewentouttorangefourbeforedawneverymorninginordertotakethemorningballoonrun.Onewarmsummermorning,Harrycamedownfromthemountainsandpartwayacrossthedrylakebed.Rigbysaid Harry stopped about a quarter of a mile off. He said Harry just stood looking at him while hereleasedtheballoonandtookthewindmeasurements.HesaidthatHarrystoodaboutsixfeettall.HesaidthatHarry’s face lookedsimilar to thatofahorse.Rigbysaid thatat firsthe thoughthewasdreaming.Then,asRigbywasfinishinghisballoonreadings,oldHarrygaveoutashortwhinny,sortoflikeahorse.That’swhenRigbysuddenlyrealizedthatwhateveritwasoutonthedrylakebed,itwasreal.Aloneinthedesertnight,unarmed,andfortymilesfromanywhere,Rigbypanicked.Thatmorning,RigbybarelymadeitbackintoMojaveWells.Bythetimehemadeitbackintothebarracksarea,hewassoterrifiedhecouldhardlydriveanymore.“Afterthat,RigbywassoterrifiedofHarrythathe’dnevergooutintothedesertuntilaftersunup.Even

then, he’d always take a range rat, or one of the cookswith him for protection.He always carried aloadedpistolwithhimwhenhewentoutthere.Sometimeshecouldn’tfindacookorrangerattogowithhim,sohewouldn’ttakethewindsatall.He’djusthideinthebasearea.That’swhytheMajordecidedtosendAndersontobeuptherewithhim.TheveryfirstdaythatAndersonwasuptherewithRigby,Harrycameagain.SotheyinformedtheMajorthattheywouldtakethewindsfromrangethreeonly,andneverfromrangefour.Rangethreeisonly20milesoutinthedesertinsteadofforty.“OnonemorningRigbywassick,soAndersondecidedtodriveouttherealone.LikeRigby,Anderson

camebackabsolutelyterrified.HeclaimedthatHarryhadsnuckupbehindhim.Hesaidwhenhefinishedtakingtheballoonreadings,heturnedaroundsuddenlyandHarrywasstandingthere,nomorethantenfeetfromhim.Hebecameterrifiedandpanickedinstantly.Hedroppedeverythingandranforhistruck.Thenhedrovethetruckfullborebacktobase.Whentherangeratsgotoutthere,theyfoundthegeneratorsstillrunning, and all of the weather instruments lying right where Anderson had dropped them. After that,Anderson,likeRigby,wouldnevergoouttherealone.”“But, I don’t understand,” I said. “What about the morning wind measurements? I mean, they’re

supposed to be taken from the range threeweather station.Howdid they take thewindmeasurementswhentheywerehidinginthebarracks?”Dwightresponded,“LotsoftimeswhenRangeFourHarrywasinclose,thewindstheysentinweren’t

worth the time it took towrite them down on paper.On those days, they justmade up thewinds andphonedtheminfromthebarracks.”IpausedtothinkoverDwight’sstoryforafewminutes.Dwightwaitedpatiently.Then,aftermullingit

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over,IaskedDwight,“HowdidRangeFourHarrygetisname?”“Thathappenedbeforemytime,”respondedDwight.“AsIunderstandit,backinthefifties,aweather

observerwasstationedupthere,namedJackson.Theystationedhimuptherebecausehehadadrinkingproblem.Lotsofthetimeshe’dhavetwoorthreebeersbeforehewaswillingtodriveoutontotherangesalone, especially at night. He was a good observer, though. The winds he turned in were usuallydependable.Well,onedayhewasoutatrangefour.Healwayssworethathewasstonesoberatthetimeandthathe’dbeendryandonthewagonforseveralweeks.Itwasinthelateafternoon.Heclaimedthathesawsomethingwhiteoveralongthosemountainsnorthwestoftherangefourlounge.Eventhoughhewas stone sober at the time, he decided that he’d been drinking for so many years that he’d startedhallucinating.Sohewanted to see if thewhitepatchwas real.He’dbeen taught in alcoholic rehab tohandlehishalllucinatingthatway.Jacksongotintohistruckanddroveoverthere.Thewhitepatchjuststayedwhereitwas.“When he got there, he stopped the truck, got out andwalked up to it. Hewas certain that hewas

hallucinating.Hesaidthatitwassittingonalargerock,tenfeetorsoabovehim.Hesaiditlookedlikeathinhuman,allwhite-chalkwhite.Ithadblondehairandblueeyes.Itlookeddownathimsortofthewayahorsemightlookdownathim.AsIunderstandwhathappenednext,Jacksonlookedupatitandsaid,‘Goaway.IknowI’mhavingadrinkingproblem,andIknowthatyou’renotreal.’“ThewhitethinglookedbackandsaidtohiminEnglish,‘I’masrealasyouare.’“ThenJacksonsaid,‘Well,I’mreal,andIhaveaname.MynameisairmanfirstclassJackson.Ifyou’re

soreal,what’syourname?’“Thewhitethingresponded,‘YoumaycallmeRangeFourHarry.’“Jackson found it all very funny. Jackson began laughing and laughing. Then he turned around and

walkedbacktohistruck,laughing,‘I’vebeendrinkingwaytoomuch.Nowmyhallucinationsevenhavenames.’”Ispentthenextseveralminuteslaughingmyself.Then,teasingDwightslightly,stillintotaldisbelief,I

asked,“There’sonethingIdon’tunderstand,Dwight.IfRangeFourHarrymakesitsodangeroustogooutontherangesaloneatnight,whyamIbeingsentuptherealone?Won’tIhavetodriveoutthereat3:15a.m.inthemorningtomeasurethewinds,too?”“Right now,Sullivan always takes some cooks and range ratswith himwhenhe goes out there.He

nevergoesout therealone.You’llbeup therewithSullivan for the firstweek.Youdecidewhat todoafterthat.Ifyouneedhelp,likeRigbyandAndersonneededhelp,justphonemeup.I’llexplainittothemajor.”ThenDwightbecameveryserious,andsaid,“Remember,Charlie,whenyou’reupthere,youcantellmeanything.I’llbelieveyou.Youcancallmeupanytime,evenathome.Youcantellmeanything.Don’tgo takingany risks. I reallydid seeHarry.He’sperfectly real. If yougoout there afterhim,hereally will burn you, just like he burned John Zimmerman two years ago. Zimmerman got a medicaldischargebecauseof it. Ifyoudecide tomakeup themorningwinds likeRigbyandAndersonused to,whenyouphonethemintome,usetheword‘very’.Justsaythey’retheveryearlymorningwinds.ThatwayI’llknowthey’remadeup.ThenI’llgolookatthewindchartsandmakesuretheylookright, justlike Iused todo forRigbyandAnderson. If thewindshaven’tbeenmadeup, thendon’tuse theword‘very’.Justsaythey’rethemorningwinds.”“That’sreallyniceofyouDwight.I’llrememberthatincaseIeverneedit,”Isaidsincerely.WiththatI

toldDwightI’dbeseeinghimlaterandsignedoutasdutyweatherobserver.Letting the station screen door slam behind me, I began the long hike back to my barracks. I was

walkingacrosstheparkinglotwhenmyfriendMichaeldroveupbesideme.Michaelwasstillintraining.So,hewasalsoworkingthedayshift.

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“Hi,Charlie,”exclaimedMichael,happily.“It’sgoodtoseeyou.”“Michael,”Ianswered.“Howareyou?”Michael,asusual,couldn’tmissanopportunitytomentionhisbeautifulyoungersisterPamela.Heand

Pamelawerealoneinthisworld.Theyhadnootherlivingbloodrelatives.TheirnaturalparentshadbothbeenkilledinseparatecaraccidentswhenMichaelwassix.Theywerebothdeterminedtostaytogether,evenaftertheywerebothmarried.ItwouldallworkoutsosimpleifPamelacouldarrangetomarryoneofMichael’s friends.One ofMichael’sworst kept secretswas his hope that Pamela and Iwould getmarried.“I’mrunninglatethismorning,Charlie.Ihadtodropmywifeandsisteroffatworkdowntown.That traffic down by the courthouse is terrible.What’s happening with you?” he responded. He wasobviouslyhappythathehadarrivedintimetotalkwithme.“Well,accordingtoDwight,I’llbestartingaTDYupatMojaveWellsnextweek,”Isaid.“Dwightwas

tellingmeallaboutRangeFourHarry.”“Oh,youmean thatoldprospector andhisburro thatpeople seehikingaround the ranges atnight?”

answeredMichael.Iwasquitesurprised.MichaelandhissisterhadgrownupinPalmMeadows,andhadlivedinthecity

allof their life.He’dcertainlyheardallof thedesert legendsmany timesover.“Aprospectorandhisburro?”Iasked.“Dwightsaiditwasahorsethatglowedinthedark.”“Whatever it is, itdoesglow in thedark”saidMichael.“ThatmuchI’msureof.BothPamelaand I

haveseen it fromadistance.When Iwas inHighschool, theplacewhere Iused toparkwithmygirlfriendsisonthatroadthatgoesupthenortheasternsideofMountBaldy.There’saromanticparkingspotupthere,justabovethetreeline.FromupthereyoucanseeallupanddownMojaveWellsvalley.Youcanseethestars,themoon,everything.We’veneverbeencloseenoughtoseeverymuch.Hemusthavebeen15or20milesawayatthetime.WhatIsawwasabunchofsoftwhitelightsthatwouldfloataroundtheMojaveWellsvalley.Theyweren’tjustupbyrangefour,though.RangeFourHarrywouldprospectallover theplace.Besidesrangefour,he’dtakehisburroalloverrangethree.Thenheandhisburroswouldgodownbyrangesoneandtwo.PamelasaidthatseveraltimesshesawthemcomerightupintoMojaveWells itself, even into the barracks area. She said she saw them float right into the barracks.Sometimestheywouldfloatrightintothehousetrailers.”“Butifthelightsweresofaraway,whydoyousaythatRangeFourHarryisaprospector?”Iasked.“That’swhatmystepfatherandmystepmothertoldPamelaandI,”answeredMichael.“Whenwewere

childrenandourstepparentsweredating,theysaidthatonewarmsummernighttheysawhimnexttotheroadgoinguptowardsDeathValley.Thatwasbackinthespringof1954.Theydidn’tseemuchofhim.IguesshewasprospectingintheJoshuatreesalongtheroad.Theydidn’tactuallyseehisburro.Iguesshewasinatentorwearingasheet.Hemusthavehadhislanternunderneathittolightitup,becausetherewaswhitefluorescentlightallovertheplace.”“Well,Michael,”Istated,“Iseeit’sgettingprettylate.Ibetterletyougo.Thanksfortheinformation

aboutHarry.I’llbesuretoaskPamelaabouthim,thenexttimeIseeher.”Michael,lookingpleased,saidmischievously,“She’llloveshowingyouthatplaceuponMountBaldy,

Charlie.Besuretoaskher.”WiththatMichaelsaidgoodbyeandreportedtowork.AsIwalkedbacktomybarracks,thewholethingseemedsoimmenselyhumorous.Iwasn’tlongoutof

sight ofDwight andMichael beforemy sideswere aching from laughter.My friendDwight, I thought,wantedsomuchformetoreceivetheextraTDYpaythatMojaveWellsdutypaid,thathewouldtellbothme and the Major anything to get the Major to send me there. Then there was my friend Michael.Obviously,hewouldtellmeanythingjusttogethissisterPamelaandI,parkedinaromanticspotoutontheslopesofMountBaldy.Yes,Ithoughttomyself,Jesushadcertainlyprovidedmewithtwoofthebest

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friendsamancouldhave.Thathadtobethecase,Ithought.Afterall,howcouldallofthoseoutlandishstoriespossiblybetrue?Yes,Ithought,laughinguntilmysidesached.“Howcouldallofthoseoutlandishstoriesbetrue?”AsI

walkedslowlybacktomybarracks,IlaugheduntilIthoughtIhadpulledamuscleinmyleftside.SoonIfoundmyselflaughingtoohardtowalk,soIhadtorestawhile,sittingonaconcretebenchthatmarkedthebusstopnearmybarracks.Two days later I was still laughing. I found the whole experience tremendously humorous. “A

radioactive white horse that floats around at night in the distant deserts and scares grown men whoventureoutinthemoonlight?”Ilaughed.Howcouldtherepossiblybeashredoftruthtothewholestory.Still, Ididhavethatoneproblem.NeitherDwightnorMichaelhadever toldmeanythingwrongin thepast.Theoutlandishstoriesthattheyhadbothtoldmehadsurvivedmycross-examination.That second afternoon, I reported to the Desert Center base hospital for a routine checkup before

headingoutforMojaveWells.Sittinginthereceptionarea,Istillfoundmyselflaughing.ThereceptionistwasayoungsinglegirlnamedSandra.Shewasmyage.Weweregoodfriends.IhaddancedwithherafewtimesatsomeAirForceenlistedmen’sdancesandtakenhertoamovieonce.AsIsatthere,SandrawonderedwhyIwassoamused.IwaslaughingsohardthatIwasunabletorecitetheentireRangeFourHarry story. However, between laughs, I blurted out Zimmerman’s name. At the time I expected thatSandra too, would break out laughingwithme. I could hardly have beenmore off themark. Instead,Sandrarespondedseriously,“Oh,him.Here,Charlie,becausewe’refriends,I’llshowyouhisfile.Wekeepitinaspecialplacewiththeotherfilesofairmenwhohavereceivedspecialmedicaldischarges.”AsItriedtostillmylaughter,Sandragotup,wentintoaroomintheback,openedasafe,andreturned

withafolderofmedicalrecords.MylaughterturnedtoshockassheopenedZimmerman’smedicalfoldertoaseriesoffourpictures.EachpictureclearlyshowedbonedeepburnmarksonZimmerman’supperleft arm and shoulder. The doctor’s report stated the burns were similar to deep radiation burns.Accordingtothereport,Zimmermanclaimedthatawhiteradioactivehorsehadburnedhim.Zimmermanstatedhehadencounteredthehorseoutinthedesertnorthofrangefour.ItalsostatedthatZimmermanhadjustbarelygottenbackintoMojaveWellsalive,collapsingfromhiswoundsjustashistruckrolledtoastopinfrontofthemotorpool.Toomuch in shock to finish reading the entire report, I turned to Sandra and asked, “Youmean it’s

actuallytrue?YoumeanthereisactuallysomethingouttherecallingitselfRangeFourHarry?”“Yes,”Sandraresponded.“Orat least, that’swhatZimmermansworeas theywere treatinghimwith

morphineforhisburns.Hewasinsuchagonyatthetime,thedoctordoesn’tseehowhecouldpossiblyhavebeenlying.”“Youmeanthat’swhatIhavetofacewhenIgooutontheranges?”Iasked,stammeringindisbelief.“Yes,”shecontinued.“Andremember,Zimmermanclaimeditcameonlywhenhewasoutthere-alone.”

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Four-TheGovernment’sNumberUnderthreethingstheearthtrembles,

Underfouritcannotbearup.

...Proverbs30:21

“Sullivan,”Iwhisperedquietly.“Wakeup.It’sMondaymorning.We’relate.It’salreadyfoura.m.”Sullivan lay in his bunk for few seconds. Then, suddenlywide-awake, he quickly jumped from his

bunk,takingcarenottowaketheothersixairmenwhosharedhisbarracks.Heslippedsmoothlyintohisnewgreenfatigues.Hetookhisnewworkingshoesoutoftheirbox,andquicklyputonthenewbrogans.Grabbinghisnewfatiguecap,hesilentlyledthewaytotheweathertruckparkedoutside.Hisnewcarwasparkednexttothetruck.AsIcarefullybrushedpastit,Inoticedthatthecarenginewasstillwarm.ThiswasthefirsttimeIhadevermetSullivaninperson.Hehadn’tbeenonbasewhenIarrivedtheday

before.Onthis,myfirstmorningatMojaveWells, Istoodinaweofhim.Hewas thesameheightasIwas. His charismatic personality, athletic build and gracefulmanner all left me greenwith envy. Hisuniform was brand new, immaculate, pressed, in perfect order, and polished. Sullivan was the verypictureofperfectmilitarydiscipline.AsIfollowedhimtothepickuptruck,Ifeltashamedofmyfatigues.Althoughclean,andonlyoneyear

old, mine were already faded, showing ragged edges, paint spots, and an occasional loose button. Iwonderedhowhehadmanaged tokeepallofhisuniformsperfect and spotless.Thedesert is aharshworking environment. He had, after all, at his own request, been assigned here for the past severalmonths.Sullivanmadeitallseemsosimple.Hehad,heexplained,boughtallnewfatiguessohewouldlookmilitarywhenhewasdischargedat theendof thisweek. Ipointedout tohim that thedressblueuniformistherequireduniformforthedischargeceremonies,nottheworkfatiguesthathewascurrentlywearing.Hethoughtaboutthatforaminute,andanswered,“Youknow,Ineverthoughtofthat.”Wewerevery lategetting started.The firstballoon runwas supposed tobe takenwhile itwas still

nighttimeoutontheranges.However,sunrisewasalreadywellunderwaybythetimewebeganwalkingtowards the weather station’s pickup truck. It was parked some distance away in front of the cook’sbarracks.Thetruckwasnearlynew,andpaintedanicerelaxingbluewithawhiteroof.Sullivan,forallofhisperfectmilitaryspitandpolish,didn’tseemtobetheslightestbiteagertoactuallyheadonouttotherangesortoarriveontime.Itwasonlymygentlepersuasion,“There’snothingouttheretobeafraidof”,Ichided,thatfinallygothimstarted,althoughhedidseemtotakeissuewiththewayIhadphrasedmystatement. It seemed odd tome at the time.However, Sullivan had spentmanymore nights out on therangesthanIhad.Thedriveouttorangethreewasuneventful.Itwasabeautifulearlymorning.Therisingsunbathedthe

sagebrushmeadowsthatstretchednorthuptheMojaveWellsvalley.Thewarmdesertvalleyglistenedinthesoftbeautifulgoldenraysofsunshine.Sullivan,however,obviouslydidnotconsiderthevalleytobebeautiful.Heseemedawfullynervous.Heseemeddistantlyfearfulofsomething.Ifounditsurprising.Ibelievedthatamanwhohadmadethedriveeverymorningfor the lastseveralmonths,would learn tocalmhimselfdownandtoseethedesertinallofitsbeauty.HowelseIwondered,couldamanfindthecouragetodriveoutontotherangeseverymorning,everyday,everynight,out intothedarknessalone.Sullivan,however,justgavetheenginemoregas.Soon,atspeedsexceedingseventymilesperhour,wewereflyingout towardsrange three. I felta littleworriedat the time.YouseeSullivandidn’tseemtoknowtheroadverywell.

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Soon, the range three gate fell behind us. The buildings of range three loomed out of the darkness.Arranged to form a large open square, the buildings, some 22miles out in this remote desert valley,exudedfeelingsofunbelievablesolitude,intenseloneliness,andahumanlifetimeofneglect.Thetruckglidedpastthegeneratorbuildingontherightand,aftermakingasharprightturn,Sullivan

skiddedthetrucktoastopinfrontof theweathershack.Jumpingfromthetruck,hestrodequicklyandpowerfully towards the locked front door of theweather shack. In total awe of his professionalism, Ifollowedslowlyalongbehind.Reachingthefrontdoor,Sullivangraspedthelockfirmlyinhislefthand.Withhisrighthand,hequickly

feltallofhispockets.Then,turningtowardsme,hesaidfirmly,“Givemethekey!”Insurprise,Iresponded,“Whatkey?”“Didn’tthecookgiveyouthekey?”Heaskedfirmly.“No,”Irespondedtimidly.Without another word, Sullivan released the lock, swiveled smartly on his right boot, and strode

quicklyandpowerfullythroughthebeautifulmoonlight,backtothetruck.Ifollowedtimidlybehind.AsIclimbedinonthepassengerside,Sullivanstartedthemotor,andsaidtome,firmly,andpleasantly,“Thefirstthingyou’llwanttodo,Charlie,istogetacopyofthekey.”WhileIhungonforsafety,Sullivangavetheenginesomegasandsoonwewerespeedingbackdown

the range three road, back towards the barracks area. As the truck sped on through the early dawn,Sullivantookoutanewpieceofpaperandanewpencilfromoneofhisshirtpockets.Handingthemtome,hesaidauthoritatively,“Here,recordthesewinds.”Takingthepencilandpaper,IbeganrecordingasSullivancontinued,“Onethousandfeet,southwestat

three.Twothousandfeet,southwestatfive.”Then,thinkingforaminute,hecontinued,“No!Makethosetwothousandfootwinds,outofthesouthwestatfour.Fouristhegovernment’snumber,youknow.”“Thegovernment’snumber?”Iasked,insurprise.“Yes,”Sullivanresponded.“Thegovernment’snumber.Anytimeyou’remakingupthemorningwinds,

you want to be sure they believe you down at Desert Center. You see, Charlie, you’re up here thismorning, so everyone down there is expecting the winds to be especially accurate. That’s why thismorningwe’llgowiththenumberfour.”“Thenumberfour?”Iaskedstillinsurprise.“Yes,thenumberfour.”Sullivansaidsimply.“Threedoesn’thaveanypowerassociatedwithit.The

numberthreealwaysseemsincomplete.Thenumberfiveisasuspiciousnumber,youknow.Nobodyeverbelievesfive.Butfour,now,that’sanumberyoucantrust-that’sthegovernment’snumber.“You know, Charlie, those people down there really believe in you. They’re depending on you to

straightenthisthingout.Whatthosepeoplereallywantfromyouisthenumberfour.Wehavetobecarefulnottodisappointthem.”IcouldseethatSullivanwasamanwhohadeverythingwellthoughtout.Sullivancontinuedwithmorenumbersformetorecord.Aswedroveontowardsbase,heproceededto

make up thewind and theweather report, apparently showing thewind speed and direction for everyaltitudeupto20,000feet.Yes,allinall,itwasaveryeducationalMondaymorning.Soon,wewereenteringthebarracksarea.Sullivanpulledthetruckintoitsparkingspotatthefrontof

hisbarracks.Turningtome,hestatedsimply,“Waithere.I’llcallthesein.”Whilethetruckengineidled,Iwaitedpatientlyinthepassengerseat.Sullivanclimbedthestepstothe

barracks.Onceinsidehestrodetothebarracksphone.Throughtheopenwindows,IlistenedasSullivandialedtheDesertCenterweatherstationandreadthewindstomyfriendDwight.Then,hangingupthe

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phone, he returnedquickly to thewaiting truck.As he climbed in, he announced simply, “It’s time forbreakfast.We’llbejustalittleearly.”Sullivan’spersonalityhadapowerfuleffectonme.Ihadspentthetimewaitinginthetruck,sittingin

envy.IkeptwishingIweremorelikehim.IwonderedwhytheChiefObserverdownatDesertCenter,SergeantWalters,consideredhimtobeamanofverylittlecharacter.Throughitall,onequestionneveroccurredtome.Ineveroncewonderedwhyaweatherobservercompletinganextralongtourofdutyofthegunneryranges,wouldn’thavethekeytohisownweatherstation-orhavelearnedtheroadouttherebyheart.Aswe headed towards the chowhall, I couldn’t resist asking him some questions. “Where are you

from?”Iasked.“LongBeach,California.”He answeredpleasantly. “Iwasborn inLosAngeles. I’mattendingLong

BeachState.”Thenhethoughtforaminute,andaddedquickly,“AtleastIwillbewhenIgetoutoftheAirForce.Howaboutyou,Charlie?”“Wisconsin.” I returned. “I fell in love with the University of Wisconsin at Madison. I sure get

homesickforthatplace.”“Iknowhowyoufeel.”saidSullivan.“IcanhardlywaittogetbacktoCalifornia.”Rightthen,Iguess,IknewthatGodhadintendedforSullivanandmetobefriends.IknewthatGodhad

somespecialpurposeinmindwhenhehadsentmetorelieveSullivan.Thefactthatmycommander,themajor,statedthathehadreceivedspecialorderssignedbythePentagon,sentbywayoftheDesertCenterbasecommander,neveronceenteredmymind.Godworksinmysteriousways.MyminddriftedbacktoallofthosemorningsIworkedatDesertCenter,allofthosemorningswhen

Sullivanhadphonedinthewinds.Onafewmorningshehadactuallybeenontheotherendoftheline.However,mostmorningsthevoicereadingthewindswouldbethatofarandomlychosencookortheairpoliceman,oranoccasionalrangemaintenanceairmanknownasarangerat.Sullivanwasanaturalbornleader. Everyman atMojaveWells liked him.Hemade it seem so natural to protect him, and to dowhateverheasked.AsIsatthere,inaweofSullivan,IrememberedsomestoriesthattheChiefObserverMasterSergeant

Walters had toldme.Walters claimed that onemorningSullivan hadwrecked theweather truckwhiledrivingbacktobase.WaltersbelievedthatSullivanhadbeengivinganallnightbeerpartyforhisfriends,outontheranges,andhadbeendrivingdrunkatthetime.AccordingtoWalters,SullivanwassolikablethatallofSullivan’sfriendsatMojaveWellshadcoveredupforhim.Theyclaimedthatsomeoneelsewhosenametheywouldnotdivulgehadbeendrivingthetruckandwreckedit.AccordingtoWalters,theMajorhadsatdownwithSullivanalone,andhadprivatelyaskedhimforthetruth.Sullivanclaimedthattwomen,whosenameshedidnotknow,hadbeeninthetruck.Oneofthemhadbeendriving.SullivanclaimedthatbothmeninthetruckwereinapanicandtryingdesperatelytogetawayfromRangeFourHarry.TheMajor,himself,claimedtohaveactuallyseenRangeFourHarryouton theranges.For thatreasontheMajororderedthatnoactionbetakenagainstSullivan.LookingatSullivan,Icouldseewhyallof themenatMojaveWellshadbackedhim.Hewasso likable.Turninghim inwouldhavebeen liketurninginyourownbrother.Afterthinkinginsilenceforafewminutes,IturnedtoSullivan,andsaid,“SergeantWalterswantsyou

toshowmeallofthedifferentranges.’”Sullivan looked visibly afraid. After a short pause, he said, “OK, Charlie. After we finish the one

o’clockballoonrelease,I’lltakeyoudowntorangeone.Therangeratstellmethey’regoingtobeoutatrangetwothisafternoon.Ifweseethemoutthere,I’llshowyourangetwoalso.Nowasforrangefour,you’llhavetohavetheairpolicemanandtherangeratstakeyououtthereandshowyouaround.Inever

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gooutthere.”Then,thinkingforaminute,hecontinued,“Whateveryoudo,Charlie,neverlet therangeratstakeyououttorangeFourafterdark.”Then,thinkingsomemore,hecontinued,“Eveninthedaytime,never let them take you up into those mountains northwest of range four-not even up close to thosemountains.It’sjusttoodangerous.”“YoumeanbecauseofRangeFourHarry?”Iasked.“No!”respondedSullivanemotionally.“No!There’snosuchthingasRangeFourHarry!Idon’tcare

whatanyonesays!”Withthat,Sullivanslippedintoanemotionalsilence.Thetruckbouncedupintothechowhallparking

lot.AsSullivanturnedofftheengine,Ijumpedoutonthepassengerside.IunderstoodwhySullivanhadgotten so emotional over range Four Harry. After all, he had been stationed up here completely byhimself.Hehadbeenexpectedtodrivealoneandunarmed,outintoaverybigdeserteverymorningformonths.Icouldseethathehadfoundalotouttheretobeafraidof.Breakfastwassurprisinglygood.IwasjustfinishingmyeggsandbaconwhenSullivan,atlast,joined

me at my table. Retrieving the keys and saying good-bye to the cooks had taken him some time.Introducingmetotheheadcookwhohadfollowedbehindhim,Sullivanstated,“ThisisSmokey.Ifyouhaveanyquestionsor ifyoueverneed someone tohelpyou in themorningsouton the range, just tellSmokey”SomewhatoffbalanceIstoodupandshookhandswithSmokey.Smokey greetedme; “Sullivanwill be going back down toDesertCenter tomorrow after breakfast,

Charlie.You’llbecompletely inchargeof thewindmeasurementsstartingtomorrow.That includes themorning run.My friend Sullivan likes you, Charlie. Don’t be afraid to askme if you need help. I’vescheduledStevetohelpyouontomorrowmorning’srun.”ForsomereasonSmokey’swordsdidn’tseemtobesinkingintomybrain.“Butthere’sonlyseventeen

or so airmen up here. Sooner or later I’m going to have to stand on my own two feet,” I protested.“Sullivanshowedmerangethree.It’sonlyaone-manweatherstation.It’sreallyniceofyouguystowanttohelpme,buthonest,Icanhandlethemorningwindmeasurementsmyself.MyfriendDwighttoldmeallaboutit.WhatwouldIneedasecondairmanfor?”SmokeyglancedtowardsSullivan.Then,choosinghiswordscarefully,heresponded,“Well,youknow,

youmightneedsomehelpforsomething.Likeyoumightneedsomeonetokeepwatchoutsidewhileyouwereinsidetheweathershack,finishingthecalculations.Steveisreallygoodatthat,youknow,maybeeventhebest.He’sbeenherethelongest.Youshouldtakehimwithyouandlethimshowyoutheropes.Youneedtoknowhowtostayhiddenwhenyou’reoutthere,howtoparkyourtruckbehindthegeneratorshacksothatnoonecanseeit.Youneedsomeonetoshowthingslikethat,atleastforacoupleofdays.”Smokey’swordsweren’tsinkingintomycoffeestarvedbrain.“IfI’mallaloneoutinadesertedstretch

ofgovernmentowneddesert,whywouldIwanttostayhidden?”Iwonderedtomyself.Still,tryingtobesociableandhopingtomakeSmokeyhappy-chowhallcooksmakewonderfulfriends-Iresponded,“OK.I’llwakeSteveupandtakehimwithmewhenIgetupinthemorning.”ItseemedtomakebothSmokeyandSullivanmuchhappier.Thelatemorningandearlyafternoonballoonrunspassedquickly.DesertCenterneededonlyfourmore

windmeasurementsthatday.Thesagebrushmeadowsofrangethreewereasbeautifulinthenoondaysunas theyhadbeenunder themorning sun.Sullivanwasanexcellent,understanding teacher and the timepassed quickly. I remember feeling honored that Sullivanwas there to teachme-even though Sullivandidn’tseemtoknowwhereanyofhistoolswere.Itisstrangehowmuchafewshorthourscanmeantoaman.Thenoonmealandtheoneo’clockrunpassedquickly.Then,ourdutydaycompleted,SullivanandIgot

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intotheweathertruck.Togetherforthelasttime,webeganthelongdrivedowntorangeone.IclosedthedoorandlockedtheweathershackbehindusasSullivanstartedthetruck.WithSullivanatthewheel,weretracedourroutebackdowntherangethreeroad.Whenwewerestill

threemilesfrombase,wereachedthejunctionwiththeroadtorangeone.Leavingthepavedrangethreeroad,Sullivanmadetheleftturnatthegravel-coveredjunction.Nowheadingeastonagravelroad,webeganthelongdrivedownthevalleytorangeone.Manymilesdownthevalleywepassedanotherroadjunction.Speakingatlastandpointingtothegravelroadheadingacrossthevalleytothemountainsontheotherside,Sullivanstatedsimply,“That’stheroadtorangetwo.It’satleast22milesfromherebacktotown.”Aswecontinuedontowardsrangeone,InoticedthatSullivanwasdrivingmuchslowernow.Slowing

to25mph,then10,heseemedafraidtoclosethedistancebetweenus,andthebuildingsinthesagebrushupahead.Stopping,finally,ontheedgeofthegraveledareabetweenthecontroltowerandtheweathershack,hishandsvisiblytrembling,itwasobvioustomethathewantedonlytoturnaroundandheadbackintobase.Stillsittinginthedriver’sseatwiththeenginerunning,helockedhisdoorandrolleduphiswindow.Then,despitetheheatonthishotsummerday,heinsistedthatIdothesame.Hestaredintentlythrough thewindshield, lookingoutacross thebeautiful sunlightsagebrushmeadows in thedistance. Innearterror,heaskedmequietly,“Doyouseeanythingoutthere?”Exceptforthegentlebreezesandbeautifulpurplesagebrushflowers,therewaslittleelsetobeseen.

“No,Sullivan,”Isaid,“There’snothingoutthere.Doyouseeanythingoutthere?”“No,not today,”saidSullivan,obviouslystill terrifiedofsomething.“ButoneSundayafternoon last

fall, I camedownhere to clean theweather station.Therewas an angrywhite coyote out there in thesagebrush.Ididn’tseeituntilIgotoutofmytruckandIwaswalkingtowardstheweathershack.ThenIsawitstanduponitshindlegs,outthere,aboutaquartermileoutinthesagebrush.Itwasgrowlingatme.Ibecameafraid.Ibeganrunningtowardstheweathershackinordertogetinside.AsIcamearoundthecorner,standingthere,hidingfromme,wasalittlewhiteboy.Ialmosttrippedoverhim.”“Alittlewhiteboy?”Iaskedindisbelief.“ButSullivan,we’reatleast25milesfromtown.Allofthis

landispartoftheDesertCentergunneryranges.Howcouldalittleboygetwayouthere?”Sullivan’sfearstillgrippedhimastheterrorofthatbygonedayfloodedthroughhismind.“Iwentto

grabhimtoprotecthimfromthecoyoteandheclawedme”saidSullivan.Thenheraisedtheshirtsleeveonhis lower left armuntil it exposeda longdeepscar.Hecontinued,“That’showIgot this. I startedbleeding all overmyself and all over him. I became struckwith panic. I ran back tomy truck but itwouldn’t start.The littleboywent runningout into thesagebrush towards thecoyote.The twoof themwent running down into the valley. Iwatched themuntil they disappeared in the sagebrushway downthere,maybefiveorsevenmilesdownontheothersideofthatdrylakebed.Iwashystericalatthetime,butIwasabletobindmywoundsandgetthebleedingstopped.ThenIwasfinallyabletogetmytruckstarted.Charlie,Ishouldn’thavebroughtyoudownhere.It’sjusttoodangerous.Ijustcan’tcomedownhereanymore.Weneedtoleaverightnow.”“Wait,wait,Sullivan.”Isaid.“Ihaven’tseentheweathershackyet.”Sullivanwasalreadystarting to turn the truckaround.Convincinghim tostopand letme inspect the

weathershackwasnoeasymatter.However,afterseveralminutesofnearbegging,heagreed.Turningtomehesaid,“OK,Charlie,butIwantyoutoclosethetruckdoorbehindyouwhenyougetout.I’llstayinthe truckandkeep theenginerunning.Youmustunderstand. If there isanythinghidingaround theothersideoftheweathershackwherethedooris,Iwon’twaitforyoutogetbackin.I’llstopjustlongenoughforyoutojumpintothebackofthetruck,andthenI’mheadingoutofhere.IwantyoutoknowthatifIhavetoleaveyou,I’llgobackintobaseandgethelp.ThenI’llcomebackwiththeairpolicemanandthe

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restoftherangerats.”“That’s fair enough,” I said. “But, really, there’s nothing out here, Sullivan. Look and see. There’s

reallynothingouthere.”Sullivanseemedtorelaxalittleaswebothscannedthebeautifulandobviouslyemptystretchofdesert

that lay before us. I carefully opened the truck door and got out. Closing the truck door behindme, Islowly and carefully walked across the graveled area between the control tower and the range onebuildings.Turning thecornerof theweather shack, I stopped, still in fullviewofSullivan.Therewassimplynothinghidingthere.Therewasnocoyote,nolostlittleboywithclaws,notevenaninsect.Istoodthereforaminute,hopingSullivanwouldrelax.ThenItookoutthekeytounlockthelockonthedoor.Iwalked slowly over to the door. I was fearful that Sullivan would panic over nothing and leave mestrandedoutthere.Igingerlyopenedthelockeddoorandpeeredinside.Thedustinsidesaiditall.Itwasasplainasthenoseonmyface.Noonehadsomuchasopenedthedoortothisweathershacksincethepreviousfall.Accordingtotheentriesinthelogbook,noonehadbeenhereformonths.Sullivan began racing the truck engine and began slowly moving the truck toward the exit road. I

quicklyclosedtheweatherstationdoorandlockedit.Then,hurryingbacktothetruck,Igrabbedholdofthedoorhandleandattemptedtogetinside.Sullivanwassoterrified,Ihadtopoundonthedoorhandletoget him to stop the truck and letme in. In just the short time I hadbeenout of the truck,Sullivanhadlockedthedoorforsafety.Once Iwas safely back in the truck and the door locked, Sullivan floored the gas petal.At speeds

exceeding50mph,heheadedback towardsbase.Oncerangeone lay twoor threemilesbehindus,heseemedtocalmdownandIbegantotalksomesensetohim.“Therereallywasn’tanythingwhateverout there,Sullivan.”Isaidcalmly.“Nothingwhatever.Nota

bird.Notacoyote.Notasnake.Nothing.”“Did you look out in the sagebrush?” He demanded emotionally. “Did you look way out in the

sagebrush,rightabovetheflowers?Wasthereanythingoutthere?”“Ilookedallover,Sullivan,”Isaid.“Therewasn’tanythingoutinthesagebrush.Nothing, therewas

absolutelynothing.Thecoyoteyousaw.Howdiditlook?”“Ithad lightcoloredorblondehair. It lookedalmost likeanalbino.Maybe ithadgottenexposed to

someatomicbombradiationorsomethingbecauseitwassothin.Itwasstandingaboutaquartermileoutinthesagebrush,lookingatme,”repliedSullivan,calmingsomewhat.“Butaquartermileisquiteawaysoutinthesagebrush,Sullivan.”Ireplied.“Thesagebrushdownhere

isprettytallandhealthy.Doesn’tthesagebrushstandalothigherthanacoyote?Idon’tunderstandwhyyoucouldseethecoyoteatall.”“You’reright,”saidSullivan,“Butyoudon’tunderstand.Thiscoyotewasstandinguprightonhishind

legs.Thislethimseeoverthesagebrush.Hecouldstandupthatway,walkthatway,runthatway,andeverything.”I really didn’t knowwhat to do. Sullivan obviously needed time to calm down so I sat quietly and

thoughtforafewminutes.Nothingseemedtobemakinganysense.Analbinocoyotethatrunsonhishindlegsandprotectsalittlelostwhiteboywithclawsseemedtobelittlemorethansomebodyelse’smake-believenightmare.YetthescaronSullivan’sarmwasasrealashisterror.Ireallydidn’tknowwhattothink.Sullivandroveonsomemore.Finallyheseemedtoconquerhisfears.Hestartedtogetbacktohisold

self. Sullivan continued, as though hewanted to confess something. “You have to understand,Charlie.Nobodybelievedme.Theysentmeouthere,alone-alwaysalone.Ididn’thaveagun,aclub,oranything.Lotsofnightsmyflashlightwouldn’twork,evenwithnewbatteries.Themorningsweredarkandcold.

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I’mnotlikeyou.Youknowwhattodowhenyou’realone.Youknowhowtohandleitwhenthingshappenandyou’rebyyourself.Youknowhowtoscareoffthecoyotes.Youknowhowtomakefriendswithlittlekids.Youknowhowtomakeastand,howtoplaceyourbacktothewallandface,alone,whateveritisthat’scomingtowardsyouatnight.MymotherdiedwhenIwasyoung.Inever learnedthings like that.Thenwhentheyhappened,Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Theynearlykilledme.IdidtheonlythingIwasabletodo,Charlie,Ibrokeandran.ItwasallIknewhowtodo.”Meaning to calm Sullivan, I replied, “I understand Sullivan. I understand completely. I thought you

handleditverywell.Ifthatclaw-markonyourleftarmhadcutanartery,youwouldhavediedouthere.Youreallyhandleditwell,Sullivan.Youreallydid.”Upaheadwas the turnoff to range two.Sullivan rememberedhispromise to takemeout there if the

rangeratswerethere.Hestoppedthetruckattheroadjunctionandpointedthetruckdowntherangetworoad.Withthetruckstoppedandtheengineidling,hegazedintentlyattherangetwobuildingssomefivemilesdistant.Becauseoftheafternoonhaze,thedesertheatwaves,theglarefromthebrightsunlight,littleifanythingcouldbeseen.Sullivanobviouslywasunwilling to leave therangeoneroadunlesshewascertainthattherangeratswerealreadyoveratrangetwo.SuddenlySullivansawsomethingmoveinthesagebrush,outalongtherangetworoad.Heseemedto

belookingalongthetopsofthesagebrushataspotaboutahalf-miledowntheroad.Nearpanicgrippedhim.Throwingthetruckintoreverse,hebackedthetruckbackontotherangeoneroad.Then,usingtheforwardgearsandspeedsreachingtheverylimitsofthetruck’sendurance,heheadedusbacktowardthebarracksarea.Shoutingatmeinterror,hescreamed,“Didyouseeit?Didyouseeit?Itwasoutthere!It’sstilloutthere!Afterallthesemonths,Itellyou,it’sstilloutthere.Youmusthaveseenit.Youmusthaveseenit!”Ihad toconfess that I reallyhadn’t seenanything. Itdidn’t appear tome that therewasanythingout

theretobeseen.Itwasn’tuntilseveralmileshadpassedunderourtiresthatSullivanstartedtogetholdofhimself.Thistime,calmingSullivanrequiredallofmyenergyandattention.Thewholeexperiencehadleftmefeelingdisconnectedandconfused.Ihonestlydidn’tknowwhattothink.Sullivan’sscarprovedthatsomethinghadhappenedseveralmonthsearlierandhewasobviouslystillterrified.I remembered that only threemonths earlier Desert Center had requested somewindmeasurements

fromrangeoneandSullivanhadapparentlyprovidedthem.OnoneoccasionatDesertCenterI,myself,hadrecordedthenumberswhileSullivancalmlyreadthemtomeoverthephone.Atthattime,hecouldhardlyhavesoundedhappier.Yet,therewasnomistakingtherecordsintherangeoneweathershack.Noonehadunlockedthedoorforseveralmonths.Ithoughtthingsthroughcarefullyaswespedbacktowardbase.Idecidedtowaituntilaftertheevening

mealtoaskSullivanthequestionsthatwereforminginmymind.Yes,Idecidedtowait.However,Ihadmisjudgedthedepthsofhisterror.Assoonashehadfinishedparkingthetrucknexttothebarracks,heturnedtomeandsaid,“HereCharlie,herearethekeystothetruckandtotheweathershacks.They’reyoursnow.Ireallycan’tgobackoutthere,everagain.I’msogladit’sover.I’msogladtheysentyoutorelieveme.Ihopeyouunderstand.IlikeyouCharlie,Ireallydo.Idon’tknowwhytheysentyouuphereallalone,buttheydid.Youmustbecareful.WhenIgetbacktoDesertCenter,I’lltellthem.I’lltellthemyoushouldn’tbeupherealone.It’stoodangerous.I’lltellthemforyou,Charlie.It’sjusttoodangerous.“I’mgoingtopackmythingsinthecarIown,now,andgobacktoDesertCenter.I’llbeleavingyou

herebyyourself.Ihopeyouunderstand.Ilikeyou,Charlie,Ireallydo,butIjustcan’tspendanothernighthere.I justcan’t.Evenin thebarracks, it’s just toodangerous.Youmust takecareofyourself,Charlie.Youmusttakeverygoodcareofyourself.”Withthat,Sullivan,unlockedhisdoor,gotoutofthetruck,andrushedintothebarracks.Withoutwaiting

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fortheeveningmeal,hehurriedlypackedhisfewbelongingsintohiscar.Withinfifteenminuteshewasgone,never to return. Iwasstill inaweofhimandhisnear-perfectpersonality. Ihadn’tevengottenachancetosaygood-bye.Thenextmorningcame.CertainthatIcouldtakethemorningrunbymyself,Isawnoreasontowake

Steve.So,bymyself,at3:15a.m.,Istartedtheweathertruckandheadedouttowardsrangethree.Exceptfor the sagebrush, the shadows, the moon and the stars, there was little else to look at. The balloonrelease, taking thereadings,andphoningDesertCenterwith theresults,allproceeded inanuneventfulroutine manner. The radio that I had brought with me received all of the best PalmMeadows radiostations.Soon,thenighttimeairwasfilledwiththelatestrocksounds,andIwasreadytophoneDesertCenterwiththeresultsofmycomputations.IwasjusthangingupthephonewhenStevearrived,drivinghisowntruck.Tall,lanky,andanear-perfectstranger,Iwasreallytouchedwhenheexplainedthathehaddriventhemanymilesouttorangethree,justtomakesureIwasallright.Ittookthelongesttimeformetothinkofanything,otherthantothankhimandtellhimhowthoughtfulhehadbeen.Immediately,SteveandIbecameascloseasanytwobrothers.Thenextfewdayspasseduneventfully.ByFridaythedayswerebeginningtofallintoapattern.Idrove

outbymyselfinthemorninganddroveinforbreakfast.Idrovebackformorewindmeasurementsuntilnoonanddroveinforthenoonmeal.Iwentoutforthelastrunandlockedupat2:00intheafternoonandheadedbackintobase.ThroughitallIwasalone.OnthisfirstFriday,though,Iwassittingquietlyinmyrangethreeweathershack,listeningtotheradio.

Itwasabeautifulsummerday.Ihadopenedmyfrontdoorandmysidedoortoletthesummerbreezesin.Ithadjustturned9:00a.m.whenthephonerang.Pickingitup,Ianswered,“Rangethree,Charlie.”Themalevoiceontheotherendasked,“CanIspeakwithSullivan?”“Sullivan?”Ianswered.“I’msorry,he’snothere.PerhapsIcanhelpyou.”Thevoicecontinued,“Well,ah,whoamIspeakingto?”Beforeanswering,Ithoughtforaminute.Sullivan’snewcar,theconfusionoverthekeys,suddenly,it

allfellintoplace.“ThisisSullivan’sfriend,Charlie.”Isaid.Then,Icontinuedwithaninnocentlie,“Wewenttohighschooltogether.Weworktogetheronourcars,hereatthismachineshopontheedgeoftown.WhatcanIdoforyou?”Thevoice,soundingrelieved,continued,“Well,I’mthemanagerattheapartmenthouse,herewherehe

lives.Iwasafraidhe’dbeangrybecauseI’mbreakingtherulesbycallinghimatthisnumber.I’monlysupposedtousethisnumberifit’sanemergency.”“Oh,don’tworryaboutthat.”Ireassuredhim.“He’squiteunderstanding.Hewon’tbeangrythatyou

called.”“IjustwantedtotellhimthedeliveryboybroughtsomepackagesforhimonMonday.Istillhavethem

here.” The voice continued. “He can pick them up atmy apartment. I was going to tell him this pastWednesdaywhenIsawhim,butIgotinterrupted.Icalledhimdownathisregularworknumberbuttheysaidhewasonvacationtoday.Iknowhesaidnevertobotherhimatthisnumberbutthesepackagesarelarge.Theylookliketheymightbetheautopartsheordered.”“Yes,”Ianswered,continuingmyinnocentlie,“TheheatinLongBeachwasreallygettingtohimsohe

tooktheweekoff.I’msureyou’llprobablyseehimtomorrow.“WhenIseehim,I’llbesuretotellhimabouthispackages.”Icontinued.“LetmemakesureIknow

yourapartmentnumbersoIgetthedirectionsright.Whichapartmentareyouin?”Thevoiceresponded,“I’mrighthereinapartmentseven,sameasalways.It’s thesameapartmenthe

comestowhenhepayshisrent.Hecanstopbyanytime.”“That’srightthereontheedgeofLongBeach,right.Thesameplacehe’slivedinforthelastseveral

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months?”Icontinued.“Yes,that’sright,”thevoiceanswered.“Youknow,thatsameplacehemovedintoseveralmonthsago,

rightafterhegotdischargedfromtheAirForce.Itellyouhe’sbeenjustthebesttenant,neveranyloudpartiesoranything.We’rejustashappyaswecanbewithhim.”“Yes,” I answered calmly. “His nerves sure were shot when he got out of the Air Force last fall,

weren’tthey?”“Oh,theysurewere,”themananswered.“Itellyou,somethingoutthereinthatdesertscaredhimbad.

Youknow,forthefirstthreemonthshewashere,hewouldn’tanswerhisdoorevenifheknewitwasme.Itellyou,hesurewasterrifiedbysomethingoutthere.“Boy,that’sthetruth.”Ianswered.“Well,I’llbesuretotellhimabouthispackages.Iwonderifyou

woulddoafavorformethenexttimeyouseehim.”Iasked“Sure,”respondedthevoice.“Whatwouldyoulike?”“Whenyouseehim,tellhimthathisgoodfriendCharliefiguredoutthepuzzlehewasworkingon.”I

said.“TellhimCharlieunderstands.Then tellhimnot toworry. Iwant tomakesureheknows thathissecretpuzzleissafewithme.”“Sure,” thevoiceresponded.“Noproblemwhatever. I’llbesure to tellhimtheverynext timeIsee

him.”Withthat,webideachothergood-byeandhungup.Yes, I had seen it clearly. Sullivan had been terrified by whatever had happened out at range one.

Sullivanbelievedthathis lifewasatstake.Hehaddonetheonlythingheknewhowtodo.Yes,Iwassureof it,now.Monthsbefore,afternearlydyingoutonrangeone;Sullivanhad trained thecooks, thepoliceman,andtherangeratstotaketheweatherreportsforhim.Hehaddrilledthemcarefullytoalwaysgo inpairs for safety.Betweenhis likablepersonality and thegifts hegave them, theyhad all bandedtogethertohelphim.Howcouldanyman,myselfincluded,haverefusedhim?Then,withallofhisbasescovered,hesimplypackedhisbelongingsandleftforthesafetyofhishometown,LongBeach,California.Oncethere,hefoundajobandrentedanapartment.HetoldeveryonethathehadalreadybeendischargedfromtheAirForce.Thenheproceededtoliveaveryquietlifeuntilhisrealtermofenlistmentwasup.Naturally,hehadn’tbotheredtotellanyoneatDesertCenter.They’dhavecalleditdesertionfromtheAirForce-afederalcrime.ThefollowingMondaymorningcame.Itwas4:30a.m.Aloneasusualintherangethreeweathershack,

Iwasjustfillingtheballoonwhenthephonerang.Turningofftheheliumsupply,Iansweredthephone,“Rangethree,Charlie.”ThevoiceontheotherendwasSullivan’s.Speakingquietly,pleasantly,andhumbly,hesaid,“Charlie,

Ijusthadtotellyouthanks.Idon’tknowhowtothankyou.Idon’tevenknowhowyoufigureditout.It’sjustlikeSergeantWalterssaidwhenmydischargewasbeingprocessed.Hesaidhe’dnevermetanyoneas intelligent as you. I alsowant you toknow that I told themdownatDesertCenter. I told themyoushouldn’t have been sent up there alone. I told them they should have sent two observers so that youwouldn’talwayshavetobebeggingfavorsfromtherangerats,justsoyoucouldhavesomeoneelsewithyouwhenyougooutontotheranges.Idon’tknowwhatelsetosay,Charlie,butIjusthadtocallyouandsaythanks.”“Thanksfor rememberingme,Sullivan.” Isaidhappily.“Don’tworry, Iunderstandcompletely.Your

secretissafewithme.”ThenSullivancontinued,“Whoelseisworkingwithyouthismorning?”“Oh,noone.”Irepliedhonestly.“Asusual,I’moutherealone.”Uponhearingthis,Sullivanimmediatelybecameagitated.Terrorbegansurgingthroughhisvoice.“You

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shouldn’tdothat,Charlie.It’stoodangerous.It’sjusttoodangerous.They’llcome,Charlie.Theyalwaysdo.Eveninthebarracks,theyalwayscome!They’recurious,Charlie.They’recuriousabouteverything.Theycomeinthedarkness!Howtheylovethedarkness!Theycomejust tolook!They’llcomeforyoujustliketheycameforme.Youshouldalwayshavesomeoneouttherewithyou,tokeepwatch-towarnyousoyoucanleavebeforetheycome!”“Who,Sullivan?”Iinterruptedinsurprise.“Who’llcome?Whoisitthatcomesinthedarkness?”“TheCreatures!”screamedSullivan,hisvoicebreakingintoterror.“TheWhiteCreatures!!TheWhite

Creatures,Charlie!They’llcome!Theyalwayscome!”“TheCreatures?WhoareTheCreatures?DoyoumeanRangeFourHarry?”Irespondedinsurprise.“NO!”Sullivancontinued,nowscreaminginterror.“NO!NO!GETBACKFROMME!!GETBACK!!

YOUCUTME!!YOUCUTMEDOWNONRANGEONE!!IWASN’TDOINGANYTHINGTOYOU!!YOU’RENOTHUMAN!!YOUCAN’TBESORRY!!”ThenSullivan apparently began reliving somemoreoftheawfulnightsofterrorthathe’dspentalone,outintheemptydarknessofthedesertranges,somanymonthsago.Hecouldbehearddroppingthephoneandscreaminghysterically,“No!No!There’snosuchthing!NO!Therecan’tbe!Idon’tbelieveit!Idon’tbelieveinyou!Nomatterwhatyousay.Ihavetogetoutofhere!Ihavetorun!Idon’tbelieveinyou!WhateverIsee…Whateveryoushowme!Idon’tbelieve…Therecan’tbeanythingoutthere!!Therejustcan’tbeanything!!Therejustcan’tbe!!”Then,morehystericalscreamingcouldbeheardashebrokedowninterror.Someoneinthebackground

apparently beganpoundingonhis front door shouting, ‘AreyouOK,Sullivan?AreyouOK in there?’whilehecontinuedscreaming,tryingdesperatelytogetcontrolofhimself,screaming,“NO!GETBACKFROMME! PLEASE!!GETTHEMBACKFROMME!!” In the background, the front door could beheardslammingopen,andanoldermantalkingtohimcalmly.Aftermanylongminutes,Sullivanfinallycalmeddownenoughtopickupthephoneandtalk.Hecontinued,emotionally,“Ihavetogonow,Charlie.Youmust leave immediately. Never go out there alone-NEVER-NEVER-NEVER! Just make up thosewinds,andphonetheminfromthechowhall-justgive themthenumberfour!Whenyoumakeupthosewinds, justgive them thenumber four.Thinkofyourself,Charlie.They’llbelieveyou.They’ll alwaysbelieveyou!Charlie!Theyexpectitfromyou!“I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again, but I have to go. Thanks, Charlie. Thanks for

understanding.Thanks,forunderstanding.I’msogladthatGodsentyoutorelieveme,insteadofsomeoneelse.Noonebutyouwouldhaveunderstood.Remember,Charlie,nevergoouttherealone.NEVER!It’sjusttoodangerous!”Withthat,hehungup.I stood thinking about what had just happened for a while before hanging up the phone. Then, my

growlingstomachremindedme that Ihad to finishmyworkbefore Icouldhavebreakfast. I turned theheliumsupplybackonandcontinuedwiththebusinessoftakingthemorningrun-alone.

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RequisitionRouletteTherefore,sincewearesurroundedbysuchagreatcloudofwitnesses,

letusthrowoffeverythingthathindersandthesinthatsoeasilyentangles,andletusrunwithperseverance

theracemarkedoutforus.

Hebrews12.1

“Youknow,Charlie,you’rethefirstobserverfromDesertCenterwho’severcheckedoutthistwoandahalftontruckinthetwoyearsI’vebeenhere.”Markstatedmatter-of-factly.MarkwasinchargeoftheMojaveWellsmotorpool.Hepushedtheclipboardholdingthemotorpooltrucksign-outsheetacrossthecounteratme,andcontinuedinfriendlytones,“It’safinetruck.It’llgetyoudowntoDesertCenterandbackwith those helium cylinders you need. Butwhat surprisesme is that you say you need somany.Twelveheliumcylindersisalotofhelium.Eachoneofthosecylindersmustweigh200pounds,butdon’tworry.Thattruckouttherecanhandletheweight.Justthesame,you’regoinginforsuppliesmuchsoonerthananyofthoseotherDesertCenterobserversusedto.Thisisjustyourfirstweekuphere,andit’sstillonlyWednesday.Yourneedingthebigtruckismightyunusual.Accordingtothemotorpoolrecords,noneofthoseotherobserverseverusedthebigtruckatall.”MarkandIwereclosefriends.Hewasanexceptionallyfinemechanic.IntenselyBaptist,hereadthe

Bibledaily.Whenhespoke,heseldomusedswearwords.“Yes,IsupposeIam,Mark.”IansweredasIfilledoutthetruckrequestform.“Butnumbersarenumbers.I’musingacylinderofheliumeverytwoorthreedays.Thatmeansinanordinarymonth,IexpecttoneedeightorninejustoutatRangeThree.ThenifIkeepacouplespareandreplenishthesuppliesdownatRangeOne…well,twelvecylindersjustaren’tthatmany.”“You’retheweatherobserver,”laughedMark,tossingmethekeys.“It’sgotgasinitandit’sreadyto

roll.You’resupposedtohavesomeonewithyouwhenyoutakethetrucktoDesertCenter,butnoneoftherangeratsarefree,soyou’lljusthavetomakethelongtripintoDesertCenterbyyourself.Becarefulwhen you’re loading those heavy helium tanks. That’s usually a two or threeman job.Remember, theSergeant who runs the Airman’s club needs the truck first thing tomorrowmorning. He goes for clubsupplieseverytwoweeks.”Itwas a clean truck, andobviouslywellmaintained.After a shortwalkacross theopenmotorpool

parkingarea,Istartedthetruckrightup.Imadeaquicktripouttomyrangethreeweathershack,pickedupmyfouremptyheliumcylinders,pickedupmylogandinventorybooks,andheadedintotown.SoonIwasoffbaseandheadingdownthehighwaytowardsDesertCenter.Itwasalongdrive.AloneasIwas,itleftmetimetowonderaboutMark’swords.WhenIhadtaken

overasthedutyobservertheweekbefore,noneofmyweathershackshadmuchinthewayofsupplies.The four rangeweather shackshadonly31balloons total of all colors-red,white, andblack-barely6dayssupplywithbreakage.Mondayofthisweek,Ihadreviewedtheoldwindreportsrecordedbytherange threeobserversbeforeme.The reportswentback10years.Hundredsof expected reportsweremissing, fragmented, or incomplete.Thousandsof otherwind reportswere sounbelievable; theywereobviouslynotworththepaperonwhichtheywerewritten.Inaddition,theformsandtheoldlogbookshadhundredsofunusualentries.Oneobserver,fiveyearsbeforeme,whosenamewasMcPherson,recorded

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thathehadabandonedtherangefourweatherstationforhisentiresixweektourofdutybecausehewasterrifiedby the fluorescent lights thathestatedalwayscame fromup thevalley to thenorthwest in thesummertime.Then,aweeklaterherecordedthathewasabandoningalloftherangeweatherstationsandtakinghisweatherreportsfromhisbarracksbackonbase,eveniftherangeswereinuse.Herecordedthathehadstartedseeingthesamelightsoutinthesagebrushnearrangethree.Hesaidthelightsappearedtobefollowinghimaroundandwatchinghimfromadistance.Twoweeksofsuchterrorwasallhecouldtake.Then therewasyesterday. Ihadbeenfamiliarizingmyselfwith theMojaveWellsbasedump.Tomy

surprise,Iuncoveredmorethan1000oldweatherballoons,stillintheiroriginalshippingboxes,thrownaway by the observers beforeme. The dates on the boxeswere spread uniformly over the last sevenyears.Itwaspossiblethatthedumpcontainedhundredsmore,hiddenunderthelandfillsandothertrash.Yes,itwasabeautifulday,andtherewasmuchtobeconsideredasIdrovealong.ReachingtheoutskirtsofNorthPalmMeadows,Inegotiatedtheleftturnontothecrossroadwhichled

acrossthevalleytoDesertCenter.Inthosedays,thecityhadnotyetgrowninthenortherndirection,andthisroad,likemostroadsinPalmMeadowsValley,wasapoorqualitytwo-laneroadthatpassedthroughopendesert.The roadwas linedwith yucca andmesquite. Finally reaching the far eastern side of thevalley,IenteredthemaingatetoDesertCenter.Thetriphadbeenhotandtiring.Iwaseagertofinishmybusinessandgetsomethingtoeat.SoitwaswithgreatsatisfactionthatIfinallyreachedtheparkinglotoutsidethemainDesertCentersupplywarehouse.Itwaslocatedatthesouthernendofoneofthenorth-south runways. Crossing the spur rail line, I parked the truck out front, collected my books andpaperwork, climbed the stairs, and strode, finally, into the reception area of the warehouse. A timid,mousy appearing airman first class was manning the counter. He outranked me by one stripe, so Iapproachedhiminmilitaryfashionandgreetedhimrespectfully.IhandedhimacopyofmyordersthatappointedmetobetheMojaveWellsDutyweatherobserverandallowedmetorequisitionsuppliesonmyownsignature. “Hello,” Ibegan.“I’mCharlie, and I’mhere to requisition supplies for theMojaveWellsweatherstations.That’smytwoandahalftontruck,outfront.Afterwedothepaperwork,Icanbackituptowhicheverloadingdockyouwant.”The airman’s responsewas friendly enough, but hewas obviously unable to project his personality

acrossthewidthofthereceptioncounter.Ifeltasthoughtherehadbeenawarandhe’dlost.“Yes.It’snicetomeetyouCharlie,”Heanswered.“Whatsuppliesdoyouneed?”IhandedhimtherequisitionsheetthatIhadbroughtwithme,andresponded,“Here’smypaperwork.

Asyoucansee,I’mrequestingonemonth’sworthofsupplies.Ineed120neopreneballoons,12cylindersofhelium,twodozenbatterieswithbulbs,6rollsoftwine,somepencils,tablets,officesupplies,and300blankweatherreportingforms.I’dlikethoseballoonstobe20black,50red,and50white.”Theairmanopenedthesupplyrecordbooksinfrontofhim.Thenhescannedmyrequisitionsheetand

reacted as though he’d taken a bullet in the chest. Straightening back up slowly, he stated, “The otherweatherobserversdidn’trequestsuppliesforanentireyear,likethis.Theyusedtocomeinonceamonth,orevery fewweeks,and justpickupamonth’ssupplyata time.That’swhatourdeliveryschedule isbasedon.”“Well,that’swhatI’mdoing,”Iansweredsimply.“I’mpracticallyoutofsuppliesupattheWells.As

myordersshow,I’vejustbeenstationedupthere,andalloftheweatherstationsarenearlyempty.Ineedtolayinsuppliesforthecomingmonthupatrangethree.That’swhatthisis,thesuppliesIneedforthecomingmonth.”“No,”heresponded,shakinghishead,slowly.“Notwithnumberslikethese.There’ssomethingscrewy

going on. There’s no problem with the office supplies, twine, extra plastic measurement tools, and

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weatherforms.Theformscomeinpackagesof250.Wehavethousandsofthemintheback,soyoucanhaveallyouwant,but12tanksofhelium?Wehaveonly3instock,andwe’reexpectingthattolastuntilournext shipment inNovember.Forbatterieswehaveonly7 in stock, andwewon’tbeorderinganymoreofthoseforanotherthreemonths.Butlookatthoseballoonrequestnumbers-120balloons?That’ssimplyridiculous.Ihave37instock.Theotherobserversconsideredthattobeayear’ssupply.There’saboxof10black,aboxof10red,andaboxof10white.Ialsohaveapartialboxof7white.Itwasaboxof 10 that broke during delivery.You can have them all, butwe don’t have another balloon shipmentscheduleduntil latenextmonth,andthatshipmentisexpectedtobeonly30balloons,10ofeachcolor.That’sgoingtohavetoholdyou.”“But that isn’t anywhere near what I need in the way of balloon and helium supplies,” I protested

respectfully.“That’slittlemorethanaweek’sworth,andIusethedifferentcoloredballoonsataratethatisbasedontheweatherconditionsatreleasetime.Thewhiteballoonsareofnouseagainstacloudysky.Theygetlostagainstthebackgroundofwhitecumuluscloudseverytime.Really,Ishouldberequesting120whites,120reds,and120blacks.Whyistheshipmentratesolow?”“Nowdon’tyougotryingtoblameus,”theairmanrespondeddefensively.“Thatshipmentscheduleis

based on the rate at which the observers before you requisitioned supplies. They were experienced,highlytrainedweatherobservers.Theyknewthejobwaybetterthanyouappearto.Youcancheckoutallof the supplieswhich I have in stock, but you’ll have tomake them last, just like the other observersbeforeyoudid.Ican’tchangetheshipmentscheduleunlessyou’rewillingtosignanemergencyrequestform, anddescribe the nature of the supply emergency.That’ll be processed throughourChiefMasterSergeant,ourcommandingofficer,and theDesertCenterCommandPost.That’sa lotofwork,so thinkaboutit.Don’tmaketherequestunlessyouactuallyneedthesupplies.”“Well,that’swhatI’mgoingtohavetodothen,”Iansweredsimply.“I’llcheckoutallofthehelium,

balloons,batteriesandbulbswhichyouhave,andsubmitanemergencyrequestformfortherest.Iwouldalso like to request that you increase the supply schedule because I’ll be needing 100, maybe 120balloonseverymonth,notjustthe30whichyou’vebeenordering.”“Ifthat’swhatyouwanttodo,thenI’llfilloutthepaperworkforyoutosign,”respondedtheAirman.

“Howsoonwillyoubeneedingthesesupplies?”“Well,37balloonswillcovermeforonly6or7workingdays,”Ianswered,“andthecolormixisn’t

verygood.CanIpickthemupnextweekatthistime?”Theairmanlookedaghastandexclaimed,“Ohno,no.That’swaytoosoon.I’llprobablyhavetogetthe

heliumfromKellyAirBaseinSanAntonio,Texas’causetheheliumcomesfromwellsinTexas.ThefirsttrainshipmentIcangetoutofKellyis10daysfromnow.IcangettheextraballoonsoutofMarchAirBaseinLosAngeles.IcanprobablyhaveaHerkybirdflythemuphere,butthatwilltakeatleast8days.The extra batteries are of a specialmilitary design. They have to come from the factory inMadison,Wisconsin.ThoseIcouldgettruckedouthereinaweek,butthey’reofnousewithouttheballoons.Ontheform,I’llstatethey’reneededassoonaspossible,andwe’llincreasetheshippingscheduleaccordingly.YoucantakewhateverIhavenowandplanonreturningwithyourtruckexactlytwoweeksfromtoday.Thesupplyshipmentsusuallyarrivebeforenoon,sojusttobeonthesafeside,don’tcomebefore2:00intheafternoon.That’sthebestIcando.”“Ok,”Iresponded.“Let’sdoitthatway.Itleavesmemightyshortofballoonsforthenexttwoweeks.

I’lljusthavetolivewithit.Butremember,twoweeksfromnowIexpecttobetotallyoutofballoonsandhelium,soI’llreallybeneedingthosesupplies!”“Right,” responded the airman. The tone in his voice said it all. He really didn’t believe me. He

proceededtofillouttheemergencysupplyrequestinthemostdisinterested,routinemannerimaginable.

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I signed the emergency requisition, loaded the supplies he had and reminded him as Iwas leaving,“Remember,I’llbehereat2:00p.m.sharponWednesdayafternoonintwoweeks.IexpectthatI’llreallybeneedingthosesupplies.”The drive back to Mojave Wells was uneventful, and punctuated by my anxiety over my supply

shortage.ReachingMojaveWells,Iimmediatelyheadedthebigtruckouttowardsmyrangethreeshack.By now it was the late afternoon. I was hurrying to delivermy supplies andmake it back in for theeveningmeal before the chow hall closed. The ranges were deserted and lay covered with beautifulsummertime desert foliage, which glistened in the hot, late afternoon sun. The gentle afternoonwindsrustled the dry sagebrush and the tumbleweeds that had collected behindmyweather shack. I had nosoonerfinishedbackingthebigtruckuptothesouthdoorofmyweathershack,whenIsuddenlyfeltveryuneasy. I immediatelybecameconvinced that Iwasn’taloneoutatRangeThreeand that someonewaswatchingmyeverymove.Still,Icouldn’tquiteplacemyfingeronwhyIfeltthatway.Iopenedonlythesouthdoorofmyweathershackandrushedthroughtheunloadingprocess.Ididn’twasteanytimelookingaroundorstoppingtorest.Itwasn’tuntilIhadreturnedthetwoandahalftontruckbacktothemotorpoolandmadeitintothechowhallthatIstartedbreathingeasier.Still,Icouldn’tquitesaywhyRangeThreelyingisolatedinthelateafternoonsun,hadbeensounnerving.Ithoughtaboutitforawhileoversupper.Then, feelingbetterwitha full stomachand friendscloseby, I shrugged thewholeexperienceoff,anddecidedthatmynervesmusthavejustbeenplayingtricksonme.Thenextmorning,the4:30a.m.runwentsmoothlyenough.However,Icouldn’tfindmyfavoritepencil.

Thisannoyedmegreatly.IknewIhaduseditthedaybefore,soafterphoningthewindresultsintoDesertCenter,Iwentlookingforit.Itseemedonlynaturaltocheckthesoftdirtoutbackofmyshack.PerhapsithadfallenoutofmypocketwhenIwasunloadingthetruckthedaybefore.Ibeganbycheckingthesoftdirt carefully. The tire tracks ofmy big truckwere clearly visible, asweremy own footprints. Then,suddenly,Inoticedasecondsetoffootprints.Thehairbeganstandinguponthebackofmyneck.Aloneinthenight,asIwas,Iwastoostunnedtostudytheprintscarefully.QuicklyIlockedupmyweathershack,shutdownthediesel,doubletimedtomypickuptruck,andheadedbacktobase.Inthechowhall,wellfed and far away fromdanger, I becamebrave again. Soon Iwas laughing atmyself.The printswereprobablyjustthoseofoneoftheyoungrangerats,Ilaughedtomyself.AfterbreakfastIheadedbackoutforthe8:00a.m.run,andpretendedthetracksdidn’texist.Iignoredthemformostofthemorning.Then,afterfinishingthe11:00a.m.run,Ifeltbraveenoughto inspect theprintsagain.Istillhadn’tfoundmypencil,anditannoyedmegreatly.Inthedaylight,thefootprintswerejustasmystifyingastheyhadbeenbymoonlight.SomeonewhoweighedmuchlessthanmyselfhadcomeoutfrombehindtheRangeThreeloungeandstoodforawhileinbehindthemesquiteoutbackofmyweathershack.Then,itappearedthattheysuddenlywentrunningdowntowardsthemesquitetothesoutheast.Oneofthebootshapedfootprints,however,heldmyattentionforweekstocome.Itoverlaidthetracksmadebytherightfronttireonmybigtruck.ThatsetoftrackshadbeenmadewhenIhadbackedtheloadedtruckuptomyshacktheafternoonbefore.Thatbootprint itselfwasoverlaidbyanothersetof thesametire tracksthatIhadmadeafterIunloadedthetruckandwaspullingouttheafternoonbefore.Theconclusionwasinescapable.Whoeverhadmadethefootprints,haddonesowhileIwasunloadingmytruckthedaybefore.ItmeantthatwhileIwasunloadingmytruck,theyhadbeenstandingbehindthenearbymesquitewatchingmyeverymove.IwassounnervedbytherevelationthatformonthstocomeIwouldforcethememoryofthosedaysfrommymind,andpretendthatnothinghadeverhappened.Thenextday,knowingthatmysupplieswereshort,IdrovemypickuptruckouttotheMojaveWells

basedumpandsalvagedasmanyballoonsasIcould.Theballoonshadbeeninperfectconditionwhentheywereoriginallythrownaway,andmostofthemwerestillintheiroriginal,unopenedshippingboxes.

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ManystillhadcopiesoftheirDesertCenterrequisitionformstapedtotheirsides.Yet,therecoveryratewasextremelydisappointing.Ofmorethan1000balloonsthattheobserversbeforemehadthrownaway,I was able to salvage only 25. The balloons were very fragile. Between the weather, the time, theoperationofthedumptrucksandthebulldozer,theywereallpracticallyuseless.Wednesday,twoweekslater,nowoperatingonmylasttankofhelium,outofbatteries,andlookingat

theendofmyballoonsupply,onceagainIcheckedoutthetwoandahalftontruckfromtheMojaveWellsmotorpool.Iloadedmyemptyheliumtanks,collectedmylogandinventorybooksasbefore,andbeganthelonganxiousruntoDesertCenterforsupplies.Asbefore,itwasabeautifulday,andtherewasmuchtobeconsidered. Ihadbeenstudying theold logbooks leftby theobserversbeforeme.Oneobserver,threeyearsbeforeme,recordedthestartingtimeforoneofhisballoonrunsas8:00a.m.sharpandtheendingtime,forhis10minuteballoonrun,as9:23a.m.sharp.Inthelogbookhesworethathehadlookedathiswatcheveryminute,butthatonehourandfiveminuteshadpassedwhilehewalkedthe50feetfromthetheodolitestandtothefrontdooroftheRangeThreeshack.Thefollowingday,hisentrystatedthathe,too,wasabandoningtherangesandreportingtheweatherfromthechowhallbecausehe’dexperiencedanother incident of the same type. This time, he stated, some of the items in his pockets had beenrearrangedduring thehouror soduringwhichhismindhadgoneblank,andhewasnowexperiencingoccasionalnightmares.Yes,therewasmuchtobeconsidered.IarrivedattheDesertCentermaingateat2:10intheafternoon.TheguardatthegatecheckedmyIDas

usual,andstated,“They’reexpectingyoudownatthesupplydepot,Charlie.”andwavedmethrough.Ihitthegas,wonderingwhytheguardatthegatewouldbesowellinformed.Asbefore,Ipulledmytruckintothegravelparkinglotinfrontofthemainsupplywarehouse,collectedmybooksandforms,climbedthestairs,andstrodeanxiouslyintothecustomerservicearea.Asthedoorclosedbehindme,InoticedthattwoDesertCenterAirPolicemeninamilitarypolicecarhadpulledintotheparkinglotbehindme.Approachingthecounter,Igreetedthetimidairmansittingattheotherendofthecounter,“Hi.It’sme,

Charlie.Iwashopingthatmysupplieshadarrived.”“Yes,”herespondedtimidly.Thenhewalkedbacktoanofficeintheback,stuckhisheadinthroughthe

opendoorway,andstatedquietly,“It’shim.He’sherenow.”Icouldhearachairmoving,andthentheChiefMasterSergeantinchargeofsupplycameoutthrough

theopendoor.HestrodeauthoritativelyuptothecounterwhereIwasstanding.Hewascarryingseverallogbooks and supply record books with him. He motioned towards a lower, desklike portion of thecountertomyleft.Therewerechairsvacantonbothsidesofthecounter.Hetookoneandsatdownonhisside,soIfollowedsuitonmyside.Withoutgreetingme,hepickedupthetelephone,dialedanon-basenumber,andspokeintothephone,“Igothimherenow.HavetheAirPolicemenwaitoutside.I’llneed20-30minutesorsotogetthefactsstraight,thenyoucancomeinandarresthim.”He hung up the phone, turned to me, and stated in an authoritative, sergeant like manner, “Young

Airman.You’reinbigtrouble,placingemergencyrequestsforsuppliesasyou’vebeendoing.Wegotthesuppliesthatyouaskedfor.Wemetthosenumbersyousubmitted’causewearethebestsupplyoutfitintheentireU.S.AirForce.Thesuppliesaresittingoutbackinthewarehouse.NowIwanttoknowwhatthe real numbers are before I have those twoAir Policemen come in here and arrest you.You’re oneyoungairmanwho’llbespendingtonightinthebrig,justasyoudeserve.I’vebeeninthisman’sAirForcefor28yearsnow,andIwon’tsitidlybywhilethisgoesonrightundermynose.Iwanttoknowwhoelseisinonthiswithyou,andjustwhatyouwereexpectingtodowith100or120balloonsamonththatyouasked for. I figureyou’vegot tobeplanningon sellingat least100of thoseballoons to somecivilianstoreorsomethingandkeepingthemoney,andthat’safederalcrime.Nowifyoucooperatewithmeinthis,we’llgomucheasieronyou.Ifigurethatyou’reyoung,andsomeoneelsehasputyouuptothis.I

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wanttheirnames…NOW,AIRMAN!”Taken completely aback, I responded defensively, “Up to what, Sergeant. I’ve only requested the

supplies that I need to performmyduties, as ordered.Onemonth’sworth ofweather reports from theMojaveWellsGunneryrangesusesupatleast100to110balloons,andthathasn’tchangedinyears.Atankofheliumwillfillonly10or11balloons.I’veonlyrequested120balloonsand12tanksofhelium.IexpecttobeplacingsupplyrequestsofthatsizeeverymonththatI’massignedasthedutyobserverupatMojaveWells.Idon’tseewhattheproblemis,Sergeant.”“Whattheproblemis?”screamedtheChiefMasterSergeantinmyfaceinangryrhetoricaltones.“What

theproblemis?Lookatme,youngairman!Lookatmegood!Doyouseethese8stripesIproudlywear?Do I look that dumb to you? I’ve been in this position now formore than 6 years. I havemy supplyrecords forMojaveWells for the last6years righthere inmyhands.Nowbefore Iopen themupandshowyoujusthowbadlyyou’relying.showyoutoyourfacejusthowmanyliesyou’vebeenspreading.I’mgivingyouonelastchancetocomeclean.Whoelseisinonthiswithyou?”“Inwithmeforwhat,Sergeant?”Iaskedrespectfully.“I’mnotuptoanything!I’mthedutyobserverup

attheWells,andI’mperformingmymilitaryduties,asordered.Idon’tunderstandtheproblem.Wecandothemath,andIcanshowyouthatIneedtheballoonsI’verequested.”“Themath!”hescreamedangrily.“Yes,youngairman.WhiletheAirPolicemanarewaitingtocomeget

youandallofyourlies,let’sjustdothemath!”Takingapenfrommyuniformpocket,andusingthecleanbackoftherequisitionform,Ibeganslowly,

“Well,I’morderedtomeasurethewindsoutonthegunneryranges,atleast5timesaday.SomedaysIhavetotake6runsaday.Atleastoneofthoserunsisatnight.Forthosenightruns,IattachabatteryandabulbsothatIhavealightbywhichtotracktheballoon.Thereareatleast20nightrunsamonth.Ifilltheballoonwithapresetquantityofheliumandreleasetheballoonintothewind.ThenIusethetheodolitetotracktheballoonandcomputethewinddirectionandvelocity.Theballoonisdestroyedintheprocess.Itsimply rises until it breaks. Usually, this happens about 35,000 feet up. The balloon can never berecoveredorreused.Evenifitweretocomedownintact,itwouldbeunrecoverable.Itwouldbemilesawayfrommyweatherstation,offinacanyonoronamountainpeaksomewhere.“Iamorderedtodothesescheduledrunseveryweekday…that’sfivetimesadayforfivedaysaweek.

In addition, the balloons are very fragile. Approximately one balloon in every 6 breaks before I canreleaseit.Thismeansthat inasingleweek,Iusebetween25and30balloons.Thismeansthat infourweeks,Iamexpectingtousebetween100and120balloons.See,Sergeant,that’swhatI’verequestedformynextmonth’ssupplies.Irequested120balloons.Actually,Ishouldhaverequestedmorebecausetheweatherconditionsdeterminewhichcolorofballoontorelease.Theredandwhiteballoonsarethemostuseful, but black balloons are needed against high cirrus clouds.As you can see,my request for 120balloonsisaperfectlynormalmonthlyrequest.”“Onehundredandtwentyballoonsamonthisperfectlynormal?”screamedthesergeantangrily.“That’s

1440 balloons a year, and you’re callingTHAT perfectly normal? I checkedwith thatMajor and thatChiefMasterSergeantofyoursoverattheDesertCenterweatherstation!Theyagreedwithyournumbers,butIdon’t.YoumayhaveTHEMfooled,youngairman,butthey’llbeshovelingsnowinhellthedayyoufoolMEwiththosenumbers!”Opening his supply records, he continued victoriously, “Here are the REAL numbers! My supply

recordsgobackforaslongasI’vebeenhereatDesertCenter.That’s6andahalfyears.Inthattime,59differentweatherobserversfromDesertCenterhavebeenassignedinturn,totheMojaveWellsgunneryranges.Eachoneofthoseairmenhadexperienceandtrainingthatwouldputyoutoshame!Sixofthemwerealreadytechsergeantswearingfivestripesinsteadofyourtwo.Anothertwelvewerealreadyfour

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stripe sergeants-the remaining 41 had already made airman first class. That’s three stripes YOUNGAIRMAN!!You’rethefirstairmansecondclass,carryingonlytwostripeswhoseEVERbeenassignedupthere!Many of those other observers I knew personally.UnlikeYOU,THEYknewwhat THEYweredoing!LookattheREALnumbers!Justlookatthem!Nineteenofthose59observersdidnotrequisitionany balloons or any helium supplies for their ENTIRE six week tour of duty up on the ranges. Theyrequisitionedofficesuppliesandblankformsonly!Theremaining41,for theentiresixandahalfyearperiod,requisitionedatotalofonly1853balloonsofallcolors.That’sTOTALfortheentiresixandahalfyearperiod!You’reusingballoonsatleastsixtimesfaster

than all of the otherweather observers combined!Now you tellme,YOUNGAIRMAN, justwhat isgoingon?Usingyourownnumbers,whyweren’tyououtofballoonsatleastthreedaysago?”Momentarilytakentotallyaback,Iresponded,stammering,“ButIknowmynumbersareright,sergeant.

Justbecauseallthoseguysrefusedtogooutontherangesandperformtheirmilitarydutiesdoesn’tmeananythingtome!Iintendtogooutontheranges,dayornight,whenevermysuperiorsordermeto,andtoperformmydutiesasordered.Iwentthroughsupplyhelllastweek.Iwasjustbarelyabletosalvage25balloonsfromthedumpupatMojaveWellstocovermeforthelastfewdays,butrightattheminute,I’mvirtuallyoutofsupplies.Ineedallofthosesuppliestoperformmyduties,justlikeIsaid.”Thesergeantpausedtothinkforaminute.“Fromthedump?”heasked,slowly.“Youfound25useable

weatherballoonsoutattheMojaveWellsdump?”“Yes,”Iansweredhonestly.“Therearemorethan1000balloonsofallcolorslayingoutintheMojave

Wellsdump.Theyhadtohavebeenthrowntherebytheobserversbeforeme.Mostof themarestill intheiroriginalboxes.Thedatesontheboxesarespreaduniformlyover the lastsevenyears.Thatdumpwasstartedjustsevenyearsago,soit’sanybody’sguesswhathappenedbeforethat.IsalvagedtheonesIcould,but25useableoneswereallIcouldfind.”“Whatareyoutryingto tellme,YoungAirman?”exclaimedthesergeant.“AmIsupposedtobelieve

that 41 experienced, highly trained weather observers before you, came in here, checked out 1853balloons,carriedthemuptoMojaveWells,andproceededtothrowawayatleast1000ofthoseballoonswithouteversomuchasopeninguptheboxestheycamein?”“Yes,”Irespondedsimply.“YoucandriveuptothebasedumpatMojaveWellsandcounttheballoons

foryourself.You’llprobablyevenrecognizeyourownsignatureonmanyof those requisition forms. Ifyou’retoobusy,thensendthosetwoairpolicemensittinginthecaroutthere.It’sapleasantdrive,andtheyseemtohavesparetimeontheirhands.”The sergeant sat there in deep shock for a fewminutes, obviously thinking things through. Then he

continued,“Ifonenewballoonisrequiredforeachwindmeasurement,asyousay,thatwouldmeanthat59weatherobservers,overthecourseofthelastsixandahalfyears,couldnothavetakenmorethan850or so actualwindmeasurements,maximum.That is an average of nomore than 13 runs per observer.Usingyournumbers,that’sonlytwoandahalfday’sworthofwindmeasurementsforeachsixweektourofduty.”“Yes,”Iresponded.“Ofcourse,Isupposethatitvariedsomewhatfromobservertoobserver.”The chief master Sergeant began paging through his records and supply catalogs. In the catalog

describing the requested weather balloons, he found a clearly typed entry that stated each neopreneweatherballooncouldbeinflatedandusedonlyonce.Helookedatmeandthoughtabouttheentryforafewminutes.ThenhepickedupthetelephoneandcalledtheDesertCentercommandpost.Afterverifyingtherangeschedule,usuallyfiveorsixrunsadayeverydayforfivedaysaweek,hehungupthephone,turned tome,andstated inaquiet,gentlervoice,“TheDesertCenterbasecommander,andmysupplycatalogsverifyyournumbers.”Thenhepickedupthephone,dialedsecurity,andstated,“I’mcanceling

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the security alert. Tell your air policemen to resume their normal duties. They won’t have to arrestCharlie.Helookscleantome.Tellthemtostopbyhereat8:30a.m.tomorrowmorningwithacameraandsomecolorfilm.ThereareafewthingsI’dlikethemtophotographupattheMojaveWellsdump.”Thenheslowlyhungupthephone.Throughthefrontglassdoor,Icouldseethemilitarypolicestarttheircarandpullslowlyaway,obviouslyresumingtheirnormalrounds.

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InitiationRite“...AsktheLordoftheHarvest,therefore,

tosendoutworkersintohisHarvestField…”

Matthew9:38

“Charlie,wehavesomefreshbloodfor tonight’spokergame,”announcedWayneonawarmSundaynight.“Great,”Iansweredhappily.“Whoarethey?”“They’retwonewrangeratsjustinfrombootcampatLacklandAFB,”respondedWayne.“Thisoneis

John.TheoneoverthereisEd.”“Higuys,”Ianswered.“I’mgladtomeetyou.I’mthedutyweatherobserverhereontheranges.Waynecontinued,“Guesswhat?There’sevenathirdguycomingupthisWednesday.He’sanewcook

namedMatt.Thatmeanswe’llhavealmost17guysstationedupherewithusforthenextthreeweeksorso.”ThenEd interrupted.“Yes,butdon’tgetyourhopesup. Johnand IwerestationedwithMatt inboot

camp.Hehadeverybodyinthesquadangrywithhim.He’sfromNewYorkCity,ontheJerseyside.Heactedlikehe’sbetterthaneveryoneelse.Assoonashearrives,JohnandIintendtokickhisbuttthewayhedeserves.”“Well,alright,”Ianswered.“Butrememberyouhavetodoitfairly.Youhavetodoitoneatatime,and

givehimadayortwotorestinbetween.Beforethefightyouhavetoshakehands,andafterthefightyouhavetoshakehands.Youcan’tjustgojumpinghiminthebarracks,either.Weallhavetoagreeonatimeandplace.Firstof

allSteve,Wayne,Doug,theboys,andI,weneedtohaveourchancetoplaceourbets.Wedon’tgetmanygood fights up here sowe can’t afford to let one go towaste.Andmake nomistake,when Steve, orWayne,orDoug,orI,anyoneofus,whenwesayitsover,thenitsover.Youunderstand.Ifoneofyouisdownorsomething,thenyouhavetogivetheotherguythechancetogetupifhewantsto.Ifhedoesn’t,thenthefight’sover.Thenyouallhavetobefriends.Thosearetherulesuphere.Youunderstand?Youhavetofightitoutuntilyou’reallfriends!”“Yes,”theybothansweredmeekly.Ifinishedbystatingsimply,“Remember,ifyoubreaktherules,I’llpersonallykickbothofyourbutts

myself.”Waynechimedin,“We’veallseenCharlieinagoodfight.Hesureashellcandoitifhewantsto.”Nowthatwewereallinagreement,thepokergamefollowedimmediately.Wewereallhavingfun,and

severalhourspassed.Soonitwaspast11o’clockonabeautifuldesertnight.Themoonhadrisen,andwewerealllaughingwhenDoug,sittingacrossthetablefromme,suddenlyclaimedhe’dglimpsedsomethingwhiteoutthroughthewindowbehindme.Gettingupfromthegamesuddenly,hestrodequicklydowntheaisletowardsthesouthernentrancetothebarracks,andquicklydisappearedoutsideforafewminutes.Whenhecameback,helookedalittlescared,andwasshakinghisheadslowlyfromsidetoside.Steve,withoutrisingfromhischairasked,“Aretheyoutthereagaintonight,Doug?”Dougansweredsimply,“Yes.They’reinrealclose.Theypostedtheirguardsoverbythetreesacross

thehighway.Theymusthaveparkedontheothersideofthehighway,overinthatcanyonthatgoesupintoBigBearPass,andcomeintotownfromthere.”

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Stevecontinuedwithhisquestions,“Andyou’resuretheyweren’touttherelastnight?”“Yes,”respondedDoug.“I’msure,Icheckedeverywhere.”Stevethoughtforaminuteandthenrespondedinacalmandseriousmanner,“Itmustbethetwonew

guysthatareattractingthem.They’resocuriousabouteverything.Whenthosetwonewguysshowedup,andwiththishotweatherwe’vebeenhaving,Ifiguredthey’dstartcomingincloseagainforawhile.”ThenWayne joined in, speaking to thenewguys,“That’swhySteve’shavingallyounewguysbunk

alonetogetherinthatemptybarracksnextdoor.Hefiguredthey’dstartedcomingincloseagain,inordertocheckoutyounewguys,go throughallofyour stuff, andsuch-like theydid touswhenwe firstgothere.”“Yes,”answeredSteveseriously.“Ifiguredifwekeptyounewguysclosetousforafewnights,and

hadyouguysleaveyourbelongingsaloneinthatemptybarracksnextdoor,they’dcomeinclose,checkyououtuntiltheircuriositywassatisfied,andthengoaway.Afterafewnightsofthis,theywon’twanttotake the risk of coming in this close again. Then they’ll go back to their normalway of doing things.They’ll go back to staying out in the desert. They’ll justwatch you from a distancewhen you go outthere.”Stevepausedforaminute,tolethiswordssinkin.Thenhecontinued,“Theonlypersonthey’veever

keptwatching,andfollowingaroundcloseup,isCharlie,there.Hestillbunksaloneinthatlongdoublebarracksdownbytheflightline.Wherehegetsthegutstodoit,I’llneverknow.He’sthetoughestairmanthatanyofushaveeverseen.Butanytimehewantsto,he’sfreetomoveinherewithus.Evennow,theystillkeepcomingintohisbarracksatnight,andgoingthroughhisthingswhenhe’ssleeping.Idon’tknowwhy.Maybe,Iguess,it’sbecausesomeoftheirkidslikehim.They’lldoanythingtopleasetheirkids,youknow.”Ihadtochuckleabit,undermybreath.IsupposedthatSteve,Wayne,Doug,andtheboyswereputting

thenewguysthroughahighlypolishedinitiationrite.ThenWayneadded,“Whenyougobacktoyourbarrackstonight,it’llprobablylookasthoughsomeone

hascarefullygone throughallofyourbelongings. If anything ismissing,don’t let it frightenyou.Theynevertakeanythingforverylong.Theyalwaysreturnwhatevertheytake,soonerorlater.ThelongestI’veeverseenthemtakeanythingistwoandahalfmonths.Thereseemstobesomeplaceclosebythattakesthem twomonthsor so, togo to, rest up, andcomeback.Butdon’tworry.Theynever takemoney,oranythingvaluable.Theyalwaysreturnwhatevertheytake.”Itwasbecomingdifficultformetokeepastraightface.Waynecontinued,“Steve,shouldIgoout,check

thenewguy’sbarracks,toseeifthey’restillinthere?Maybeaskthemtoleaveiftheyare?”Stevethoughtforaminute,andansweredinacalmandseriousfashion,“No,they’llkeepcominguntil

they’re satisfied. There isn’t anythingwe can do to stop them, anyway.As long as they’re not hurtinganybody,there’snoreasontoscarethemaway.NooneevergoesupintoBigBearpassatnight,sothereisn’t any danger to anyone. Even in the daytime, I never take that gravel road up towards those oldcharcoalkilnsalone,anymore.It’ssodeserted,andseeingthoseoldkilnsisn’tworththerisk.ThelasttimeItriedthatroad,wasahotafternoonlastsummer.Iwasonlyhalfwayupthatarroyowhenoneofthosewhitecreaturescameoutinoneoftheirscoutcraftandflewalongsidemytruckforashortways,watchingmeasIdrove.Isaidtomyself,‘Forgetthisnoise.’Eventhoughthearroyoisnarrow,Iturnedmytruckaroundandheadedbackintotown.”Ihadtochucklesomemoreundermybreath.Thetwonewtroopswereobviouslybecomingfrightened.

Theyalsoappearedtobeappreciatingtheabsentthirdnewguy,morethanbefore.Theideaofhavingathirdguybunkingwiththemintheiremptybarrackswasdefinitelylookingalotmoreattractive.Despite thefact thatSteve,Wayne,andDougappeared tobecompletelysincere, I figured theywere

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justputtingonanacttofrightenthenewguys,andgetthemtostopfightingwiththeabsentthirdnewguy.ThinkingIwouldgiveSteveandWayneachancetohavemorefunbyprolongingtheinitiationceremony,IaskedWayne,“Whatdoyouthinktheyare?Whatdoyouthinkisoutthere?AretheyfriendsofRangeFourHarryorsomething?”Wayneansweredthequestionwithaquestionofhisown,“Charlie,Yousaidthatoneofyourhobbies

wasreadingflyingsaucermagazinesandthings?”“Yes,”Iresponded.Waynecontinued,lookingmestraightintheeye,“Well,Charlie,whatdoyouthinkflyingsaucersare?”Defensive,Iresponded,“Oh,Idon’tknow.I’veneverseenone,soIcanonlyguess.Isupposemostof

themarehoaxesorhaveordinaryexplanations.Iftheywerereal,theonlylogicalexplanationisthattheywouldbevisitorsfromsomeotherplanetorbitingsomedistantstar.Butspaceissovast.Thestarsaresofarapart.Idon’tseehowtheycouldmakethedeepspacecrossingbetweenthestars.You’dhavetotravelfasterthanthespeedoflightorelseitwouldtake1000yearsjusttogetherefromtheneareststar.Oncehere,theywouldbeindireneedoffood,shelter,fuel,repairpartsandothersupplies.Alienvisitorsfromspacewouldbeinthepositionoftravelingforamillennium,allthewhilehopingforalittlehospitalitywhen they arrived. I don’t see how that would be possible, or why theywould take the risk that wewouldn’tbefriendlytothem.Anyway,evenifflyingsaucerswererealandwerecomingherefromsomeotherstar,there’snothingouthereinthisdeserteddesertvalleytoattractthem.Theywouldn’tbeouthere.They’dbeinWashingtonD.C.orbackeast,orsomething.”Waynebecameemotionalandbegandisagreeing.Gettingup fromhischair,hebeganpointingup the

valleytowardsthenorth.Pacingbackandforthemotionallybytheclosedbarracksdoor.Hecontinued,“No!No,Charlie!You’rewrong!Iknowyou’rewrong!I’lltellyouwhatIthinkflyingsaucersare.Ithinkthey’reoutthere.Ithinkthey’rerightoutthereinthedesert-rightoutthere.Ithinkthey’reupthevalley,upnorthofhere. I think they’redug into thosemountains in thedistance-out there.They’re tallandwhite.Theycanmakethedeepspacecrossingfromonestar toanother in justacoupleofmonths.TheircraftCANtravelfasterthanlight.That’swhatRangeFourHarryis.That’swhatcomesaroundourbarracksatnight.That’swhatyouseeoutinthedesertatnight.That’swhatisoutthere.”Outofrespectforourclosefriendship,Isuppressedmyintensedesiretobreakoutlaughingopenly.I

foundsomethingabout theideatobeincrediblyamusing.“Spacealiensbuildaflyingsaucer, travel50lightyearsintwomonths,makethedeepspacecrossing,andspendtheirtimehereonearthbywatchingsevenAmericansoldersplayingpokerinthedesert.Couldlifegetmoreridiculous?”Iwonderedquietlytomyself.Gettingholdofmyselfatlast,IpolitelyaskedWayne,pointblank,“HaveyoueverpersonallyseenrangeFourHarry,oranythingtallandwhite-orflyingsaucersoutthereinthedesert?Haveyoueverpersonallyseenanythingcloseuporinthedaytime?”I could hardly have been less prepared for his answer. Steve,Wayne, andDoug, all looked at each

other. All three of them looked me straight in the eye and answered together, “Yes.” Then Waynecontinued,“There’savalleyatthebaseofthemountainsuptothenorthwest.It’saneasydriveupthere.Youdon’tneedfour-wheeldrivesoyoucouldprobablymakeitinyourweathertruck.Youtakethatfirstpass that you seenorthwest ofhere andgoup in there,maybe50miles.Whenyou’vegonemaybe50miles, lookupalong thebaseof themountains to thenorth.Youcan’tmiss it.They like topark in thatvalley, down out of sight. There are several springs in that valley. You can see the springs on yourweathermap.“Oneday twosummersago,Steve,Doug,and Iwereup in thereby thosespringswhenwe ran into

them.Theyliketogotherealotandrestinthesunshine.Steveaskedthemifwecouldseethecrafttheycamein,sotheytookthethreeofusoverintothenextvalleyandshowedittous.Itwasaboutasbigas

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thisbarracks,onlyitwasmoreroundedandoval.SteveandDoughadtostayoutside.Iwastheonlyonetheyletwalkinside.”Iwasreallytakenoffbalance.Bynowthenewguyswerebecomingterrified.IthoughtWaynewasjust

pouringitontofrightenthem.“Theyletyouwalkintotheircraft?”Iasked,tryingtolookasifIbelievedthem.“Whatdiditlooklikeinside?”Waynecontinued,“Well,theyonlyletmestepjustinsidethedoor.Itwassortoflikeapassengerplane

inside.Onmyrightwasacockpitlikeareawithseatswheretheysitwhentheyareflyingaround.Therewerelotsofgaugesandswitchesandthingsthattheyusetocontrolthecraftwhenthey’reflying.Onmyleftwastheirlivingarea.Theyhadthingslikestoves,andfoodstoragelockers,andshowers.Theysleepinhammocks.Rightinfrontofme,whereyoufirstgointhedoorwasthiswholepanelofswitcheswithhieroglyphsonthem.Theswitcheswouldn’tmovewhenItouchedthem.Theyjustdischargeelectrically.Oneof themopenedandclosed the frontdoor.Another turnedon theoutside lights, another the insidelights.”“Wheredotheycomefrom?”Iaskeddefensively.“Theywouldn’teversay,” respondedWaynesincerely.“ButDoug thinks theymustcomefromEgypt

becausethemarkingsontheswitcheslookedsomuchliketheancientEgyptianhieroglyphs.Stevedoesn’tagree,though.Hethinkstheycomeherefromsomeotherplanetorbitingsomedistantstar.”“Whatdidthemarkingslooklike?”Iasked.“Here,I’llshowyou,”respondedWaynewithoutsomuchasamoment’shesitation.Takingoutapencil

andasheetofpaperfromhisnearbylocker,hequicklysketchedthefirstfive,whichhesaidwerelargerthantheothers,andpositionedalongatoprowjustinsidethedoor.Thenhecontinuedsketchingtwomorethathesaidwerepartofasecondrow,locatedjustbelowthefirst.Pointingtothefirst,whichlookedsortoflikeasketchofthesun,hestated,“Thisonecontrolledtheoutsidelights.Thenextonelookedsortoflikeadooropeningupwards.Hestatedthatitcontrolledtheopeningofthefrontdoor.Waynehandedmethepaper.Itookit,moretobepolitetomyfriendsthananything.Ifoldeditcarefully

andplaceditinmywallet.IwastotallymystifiedbyWayne’sstatements.Ireallydidn’tknowwhattosaynext.Steve,goodfriendthathewas,continued,“WhateveryoudothoughCharlie,don’tevergouptherealone. I know they like you, and all. So far they’ve been treating youway different than theway theytreated those other observers thatDesertCenter used to always send up here.All of those other guysthey’dhaverunoffbynow.Justremember,theycangetangryjustaswecan.Ifyoueverwanttogoupthere,alwaystakemeorWayne,orDougwithyou.Itjustisn’tsafeforanyonetogouptherealone.”ThenSteveturnedtoWayneandcontinued,“Youknow,Wayne,nowthatwehavethesenewguyshere,

don’tyouthinkaweekfromthisnextMondaywouldbeagoodtimetotakethemouttorangefourandshow themRangeFourHarry.Wehave to show themwhat they are up againstwhen they’re out therealone.”“That’s a good idea,” responded Doug. “Range Four Harry’s one of them. They could see him for

themselves.HowaboutCharliehere?Heshouldgoalongtoo.”“Yes,”answeredSteve.Then,turningtomehecontinued,“We’dlovetohaveyoualong,Charlie.You

goout thereatnightbyyourselfsomuch,you’veprobablyseen themmore thananyofus. Iknowtheythinkofyouasspecial.Ifyouwerealong,thesenewguyswouldn’thavetoworryaboutthemattacking,’causeyoucouldjustgooutthereandtalktothem.”BynowIwasreallydefensive.FromSteve’sremarks,Isupposedthathemustjustbeintendingtoscare

thenewguysaspartoftheinitiationrite,soIdecidedtojoinin.“Whyyes.”Ianswered.I’dlovetogoalongwithyou.HowdoyouintendtogoaboutseeingthislegendaryRangeFourHarry?”Inobvioussincerity,Steveresponded,“Well,we’lldoitaswealwaysdo.Harry’srealeasytofrighten

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sowehave to be real careful.”ThenSteve paused for amomentwhile he counted on his fingers.Heseemedtobecountingintwos,“.twoactive,twosleep,.”Thenhecontinued,“Yes,nextTuesdayseemslikejusttherightnighttogooutthereandlook.We’lltaketwopowerwagonsouttorangefourduringthelate afternoon onMonday. Doug will drive the first, and I’ll drive the second.We’ll stay real closetogether so that the dust from the first one hides the second. Thatway, ifHarry iswatching from themountains,he’llthinkthatonlyonewagonhascomeout.We’lltakelotsofwaterandwe’lltakelotsofsandwichesandthingsfromthechowhall.Thenwhenwegetouttorangefour,I’llhidethesecondpowerwagonoutofsightinoneofthehangers.Therestofyougrabeverythingandgetintotherangefourloungebefore thedust settles.Harryhas realgoodeyesight, soyoucan’tmessarounddoinganythingoutside.Dougwillkeepdrivingbackandforthsothere’slotsofdusttoconfuseHarryifhe’swatchingfromthemountains.Onceyouguysareinthelounge,openallofthewindowsrealquick,andthenstayawayfromthem.Youallhavetostaydownoutofsight,andyoucan’tturnonthediesels,orusethephone,ortalkoranything.Harryhasrealgoodeyesightandrealgoodhearing,sonoonecantalkaboveawhisper.We’lllocktheloungedoor,andthenDougwilldriveonepowerwagonbacktobase.He’lldriverealfastandmakelotsofdust,soifHarryiswatching,he’llthinkthatrangefourisstilldeserted.Thenwe’llalltaketurnswatching,especiallythosemountainsuptowardsthenorthwest.Ifit’sawarmnight,Iguaranteethathe’llbeoutthere.We’llseehim,you’llsee.”Itwasnowwaypastmybedtime,soIsaidgoodnighttoeveryoneandwentbacktomybunk.SoonI

was chucklingmyself to sleep.Steve andDoug andWayne sure knewhow to frighten thenewguys, Ilaughedtomyself.The nextmorning,my drive out to range threewas uneventful. I was quite tired, and by the time I

arrivedoutatrangethree,IwashappyIhadn’tgonetosleepatthewheel.Therewassomemoonlight,andthedesertlookedbeautifulunderawarmclearsky.Igotadieselstarted,andasIwalkedtowardsmyweathershack,Ipausedforafewmomentstogazeupthevalleytowardsthemountainsinthenorthwest.Iwaslaughingtomyselfatthetime.SteveandDougandWaynehadbeensocleveritseemed,atmakingupthestoryofRangeFourHarry,hieroglyphs,andall,justtoscarethenewguys.Still,therewasonethingIjust couldn’tquiteunderstand.At least sixdifferent times in thepast,Stevehad takennewguysout torangefouratnight,andonatleastfourofthosetrips,theyhadallcomebackinterror.Eachofthosefourtimes,everyonewithStevehadclaimedtohaveactuallyseenRangeFourHarry.Ononeoccasion,toamantheyallclaimedthatHarryhadcomeinaroundtherangefourbuildings,andhadactuallylookedinthroughtheglassinthefrontdoor,intotherangefourlounge.Theyallclaimedthattheyhadhidden,andprayed, and spent the rest of the night hiding in complete terror. Quietly, I performed my arithmetic.CountingmyfriendDwight,theMajor,andtheotherweatherobserverswhohadstrangeexperiencesouton these ranges, thereweremore than30peoplewho independentlyclaimed tohave seenRangeFourHarry.As I stood there,gazingout into thedesertandsagebrushwhichcovered theMojaveWellsValley, I

noticedthreesoftwhitefluorescentpatchesfloatingjustoffthedesertfloordowninthevalleytothewestofme.ItwasinthesameareawheretherangeratshadbeenworkingthepreviousFriday.Thechowhallhad delivered their noonmeal to them. I supposed, therefore, that the white patches must just be theplastic wrappings from their noonmeal drifting in the wind. The Range Rats had probably left theirsandwichwrappingsandotherpiecesofpaperlayingaround,Isupposed,andnowthelightdesertwindmustbeplayingwiththeminthemoonlight.Withoutgivingthingsmuchthought,Iopenedupmyweathershackandproceededwiththemorningrun.Later,asIwasreleasingtheballoon,Inoticedthattwoofthewhitepatcheshadfloatedsome20miles

northandwerenowopposite the range fourbuildings.At the time Iwondered.Thewhitepatcheshad

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drifted20milesin30minutesinawindImeasuredatonly5milesandhour.“That’saprettygoodtrick.”Isaidtomyself.Inoticedthatthethirdwhitepatchhadfloatedeastupthesideofthevalley,untilitnowfloatedontherangefourroad,justthreemilesnorthofme.Ididn’tgiveitmuchthought.Ireleasedmyballoon and continued with my wind measurements. Finishing the run, I performed my calculations,phonedthemintoDesertCenter,shutdownmyweathershackandmydiesel,andpreparedtoheadintobreakfast.Justbeforegettingbackintomytruck,curious,Idecidedtocheckthevalleynorthofmeandseewherethewhitepatcheswere.Twoofthemcouldbeseenupalongthebaseofthemountains,nowsome35milesnorthwestofme. Iwonderedhowsimplepiecesofpaperandplasticcould reflect thatmuchmoonlight.Afterall,Iwondered,35milesisanawfullylongwaytoseeanything.Thethirdwhitepatchstilldriftedafewinchesabovethegravelontheroadnorthofme.Curious,andhaving45minutesorso,tospare, Idecidedtostartmytruckanddrivedowntherangefourroad togetabetter lookat thesoftwhitefluorescentpatchwhichdrifteddownthere.Istartedmytruck,andeaseditontothegravelrangefourroad.Idecidedtogentlyapproachtheplastic,

so I stayed insecondgear,andheldmyspeed to20mphorso.Thefluorescentwhitepatch,however,seemed toknowthat Iwascoming. It floated towardsmeashortdistanceuntil itgot toabreak in thesagebrush.Thenitlefttheroad,andfloatedtowardstheoldammunitionbunkerlocatedatthebaseofthemountainseastofme.Whenitgotmaybethreequartersofamilefromtheroad,itstoppedandjustfloatedthere, as though itwerewatchingme.When I hadgotten far enoughdown the road to be opposite thewhite patch, I stoppedmy truck, and set the parking brake. I left the engine running, and the truck inneutral.Igotoutintothedeserteveningtogetabetterlookatthewhitepatch,nowjustoveramileaway.It was white, fluorescent, had filmy edges, and appeared to be featureless. However, there was noquestionthatitwassolidbecauseitblockedouteverythingbehindit.IwassoconvincedthatitmustjustbepaperorplasticthatIthoughtnothingofwalkingoutintothedeserttowardsit.Ialsoshruggedoffthenotionthatitmustbeintelligentwhenitkeptretreatingfromme.SoonIwasmorethanahalf-mileoutintothe desert and getting no closer to it than when I started. My stomach was growling in hunger, so Ishruggedoffthechaseandslowlyreturnedtomytruck.Thewhitepatchcontinueddriftingontowardstheammunitionbunker.Tryingtomakelightofmyfoolishchase,Ilaughed,shrugged,andstatedaloudtothedesertevening,“Suchisthenatureofplastic.”Ittookawhileformetogetmytruckturnedaroundonthenarrowrangefourroad.SoonIwasheaded

backtobaseandhopingImadeitbeforethechowhallclosed.AlongthewayIwondered,“IsthatwhateveryonecallsRangeFourHarry?FirstI’dheardthathewasaradioactivehorse,thenaprospectorwithaburrow.NowIseeparachutesorplastic.Iwonderwhatishereally?”Thedayspassedquickly,andWednesdaycamesoonenough.Bynoonitwasalreadynecessaryforme

tobreakupanargumentbetweenthenewcookMattandthenewrangeratsJohn,andEd.Theywereallthree,youngmenwithgutsandcourage.IleftthechowhallcertainthattheAmericanmilitarywasstillable tocontrolanybattlefield itchose to.ThenThursday, Ihad tokeep themfromjumpingMatt in theshower,andlateFridayafternoonMattwasgoingtotakebothofthemoutbehindthemotorpool.Hewasquiteafighter,andIbelievehecouldhavedoneit too.AfterIbrokeupthescuffle,I impressedonallthreeofthemthatSteve,theboys,andIweren’tgoingtobedeniedourchancetobetonthefightbeforetheyhadit.SteveandIhadscheduledtheshowdownfortwoweeksfromSaturdayandwestillneededtimetocollectallofthewagers.LateSundayafternoon,IwaswalkingbacktomybarrackswhenIsawMattdrivinginfromthedesert

inthechowhalltruck.I’dbeenkeepingaclosewatchonhimandthenewrangerats.Ifelttheyneededtime,andagoodscuffle,sotheycouldbecomefriends.Iwantedtomakesurethatitwasafairfightwhenithappened.Anyway,IfeltcertainMattcouldtakethemboth,andIwantedtimetoplaceafewmorebets

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beforetheyhaditout.IknewwhereJohnandEdwere,soIwascertainthattheyhadn’tbeenoutinthedesertfightingwithMatt.IhadwatchedMattforsomedistance.He’dtakenthechowhallpickuptruckoutintothedesertvalleys

northwestofMojaveWellsfield-outintothemountainswherethespringfedvalleylay.Locatingalloftheplaceswheretherangeratsroutinelyaskedtheirnoonmealbedelivered,wasanormalpartoftheonthejobtrainingforchowhallcooks,buthehadgoneouttherealone.Exceptforme,Matthadn’tyetformedany friendships on base. No one would train him, or tell him anything. Except for me, he wasn’t onspeaking termswith anybody. I wasn’t worried, I just figured that sooner or later he’d get around tohavingapush-shovematchwitheveryoneinturn,andintheendeveryonewouldbehisfriend.HehadgrownupinJerseyCity,andhadbeenhereinthedesertforamere5days,soIwassurprisedthathehadthecouragetogodrivingsofaroutintothedesertsosoon,andsoalone.He parked the truck in front of his barracks, and was just getting out when I arrived on foot. His

binocularswerestillhangingaroundhisneckandtheybangedupagainst thetruckasheclimbedout.Istoppedhim.Inotedthathehadn’ttakenanyfoodorwaterwithhimwhenhewentoutintothedesert,andIcautionedhim.Thesummerheatmakesthedesertadangerousplace,Isaid.Amanhastothinkthingsthroughbeforehegoesoutthere.Ipointedoutthatdrivingwiththebinocularsaroundhisneckprobablywasn’t safe,andsuggested thatheshouldhave removed themandplaced themon theseatnext tohim.Lastly,Ipointedoutthateventhoughhistruckwasequippedwithatwowayradio,heshouldhavetoldmeorsomeonelikethefirstsergeantwherehewasgoingbeforehewentoutthere.Thenheshouldhavecheckedinwhenhegotback.Thatway,we’dknowwheretocomelookingforhimifhedidn’tmakeitback.Mattjuststoodthere,glassyeyed,andspeechless.Heseemedtobeterrifiedofsomething,andhismind

seemedtobechurninginside.Sensinghisconfusion,Istated,“If there’severanythingyouwishto talkabout,justdriveouttomyweathershackatrangethree.I’malwaysthere.Feelfreetocome,anytimeandtalk-justanytime.”ThenIlefthimstandingthere.Laterthatevening,Ilookedinonhim.Hewassittingonhis bunk,with the lights at his endof the barracks turnedoff.His headwas in his hands, and hewasobviouslysittingthereindeep,confusedthought.Thenextfewdayspasseduneventfully,andTuesdaycameasusual.Theonlyproblem,frommypointof

view,wasthatIhadbecomeexceptionallysickwiththeflu.IhadtocalloffmyparticipationinSteve’splanned escapade to seeRangeFourHarry.Nothingwould stopSteve, though.Asplanned, he loadedMatt,Ed,John,Wayne,Doug,BryantheAirPoliceman,lotsoffood,water,coffee,andpunch,intotwopowerwagons and set off for range four just as the sun as setting. I spent the evening inmybarracksvomitingmysupperintothecommode.Thenextmorning,everythingwasnormalenough.Iwasquiteweak,butfeelingbetter. Iwasalready

having breakfast in the chowhallwhenSteve and theRangeFourHarry viewing crew entered. I hadexpectedthemalltobelaughingtogether.Iwasquitewrong.Mattstilllookedwildeyedandconfused.Stevewas lividwith rage atEd and John. “Ed,whatwere you doing screaming in terror in that sideroom?ItoldyoubeforewewentouttherethatIdidn’twantsomuchasawhisperoutofanyofyouwhenwewereoutthere.IfBryanhadn’ttoldyoutoshutup,you’dhavegottenusallkilled.AndyouJohn!YouIDIOT!Youcouldhavegottenusallkilledtoo!”Stevewasshouting.Foraninitiationrite,Steveseemedtobetakingeverythingabitfar.“Youweresomightyluckytheychosetorunaway.ItoldyouHarrywasreal!ThewayyouwentwalkingouttheretogetacloserlookwasthestupidestthingI’veseenlately.TheonlypersonI’veeverseenwhocoulddothatstuffandgetawaywithit,isCharlie.He’stheonlymanwhohaseverlivedwhothey’llletwalkuptothem,orinamongthem.Everyoneelsethat’striedithasgottenhisbuttburnedbutgood!Remember,noneofusisCharlie!Weallhavetokeepourwitsaboutus.When

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we’reoutthereontheranges,mywordislaw-especiallyifoldHarryisaround!Thefirstruleisthatyouneverwalktowardshim.He’llburnyoueverytime.John,doyouandEdunderstandme?”Ididn’tknowwhat to thinkanymore.Steve’s initiation rite seemed tohavegottenwayoutofhand.

Still,IwasdumbfoundedasIsatthere.Ihadn’ttoldanyoneabouthavingwalkedoutintothedesertanyofthetimesIhaddoneso.HowcouldSteveknow?Theonlypersonwhoknewwasme-meandthefloatingwhitefluorescentpatches.Havingfinishedmybreakfast,Ihikedbacktomypickuptruckandheadedbackouttotherangesforthe

8o’clockrun.Itwasabeautifulsummerday.Rangethreewasn’tinuse.Ihadjustfinishedthe8o’clockrunandphonedtheresultsintoDesertCenterwhenthechowhalltruckpulledupoutsidemyrangethreeweathershack.Mattgotoutslowly,andlookedaroundinanextremelynervousmanner.Isteppedtothefrontdoorofmyweathershackandgreetedhim.Oncehesawmehesettleddownnoticeably,andaskedifhecouldcomein.Itwasobvioustomethatheneededtotalktosomeone.Asanexperiencedsoldier,Ifeltitwasmydutytofilltheshoesofbigbrother.HappilyIbroughthimin,showedhimmyplace,andgavehimthebestseatinthecoolbreezesbythefrontdoor.Hestartednervouslyatfirst.“Inthetimeyou’vebeenouthere,haveyoueverseenanythingunusual?”

heasked.“Well,yes,sometimes,”Ianswereddefensively,“Buttheobserversbeforemehadmanymoreunusual

experiencesthanI’vehad.”Ipausedforaminuteorso.Mattwassouptight,Idecidedtotryrelaxinghimalittle.Itriedtomakesomehumor.Icontinued,“Howdidthingsgooutatrangefourlastnight?DidyouactuallyseethelegendaryRangeFourHarry?”“Yes,”Mattansweredquicklyandintotalearnestness.“Whatdoeshelooklike?”Ianswered,stillsearchingforapointofhumor.“Well,afterJohnwentoutthere,Iwentouttheretoo.Iguessit’snotrealsmarttodoso.Iguessyou’re

theonlyonewhoisabletodothatandlive.Stevebecameveryangry.Ithoughthewasgoingtokickbothourbutts.IstayedouttherelongerthanJohn.Ievenusedmybinoculars,butIstillcouldn’tseemuchofanything.Thefluorescentlighthurtmyeyes.”“Well,ifyoucouldn’tseeanything,whatwereyoulookingat?”Iasked.“Itwasalargesoftwhitefluorescentpatchoflight,”Mattanswered.“Itwasfloatingjustafewinches

offthedesertuptothenorthwestoftherangefourlounge.Stevesaidthatifwe’dallkeptquietlikeheordered,itwouldhavegottenalotcloser.Hesaidthathe’sevenseenitcomeinaroundtherangefourbuildings.”“H-mm,”Iansweredthoughtfully.Mattcontinued,“Stevesaidthatwhenitgetsuprealclose,youcanseesomethingthatlookslikepeople

floating insideof it.Buthe says thatwhen itgets thatclose,youhave tobe realcarefulor thepeopleinsidewillburnyourealbad.”Inolongerhadthefaintestideawhattothink.WhatIthoughthadbeganasaninitiationritewasnowso

faroutofhand,thatIdidn’tknowwheretoputthepiecesanymore.Hopingtogainsometimetothinkthingsover,Icontinued,“AweekagoSunday,whenyouwereoutdrivingaround,didyouseeanythingwhenyouwereupinthosemountainswestofhere?”“Yes,”Mattansweredinthatsameintenselyearnestvoice.“WhenIwaswaybackupinthere,Iwent

outtothatbeautifullittlevalleythat’supinthosemountainsoverthere.Thevalleyisatleastfiftymilesfromhere.It’srealbeautiful.Ithasaspring.Thevalleyiscoveredwithgrassandbeautifulflowersandwildstrawberries.Itevenhassomefruitandappletrees.Itwasinthatvalley,locatedrightupagainstthebaseoftheothersideofthosemountainsthatIsawaflyingsaucerparkedontheground.”“That’sprettydesolatecountryupinthere,”Iresponded,tryingtohidemydisbelief.“Especiallyfora

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youngmanlikeyourself,havinggrownupinNewYorkCity.You’retellingmethatononlythethirddayyouwerehereonbase, thatyoudrovewaybackup in there,more than50milesout into thatdesolatesectionofdesert,alone?Onceyougotoutthere,yousawaparkedflyingsaucer?”“Yes,”Mattanswered.“Thevalleywayup there, theonewith thespring in it, issobeautiful. Iwas

homesick,anditremindsmeofmyhomebackeast.Well,forsomereason,thepeopleintheflyingsaucerdidn’tseemecoming.Itmustbeprettyeasytosurprisethem.WhenIgotclose,mytruckstartedrunningrough.Ididn’tknowwhatwasupahead,soIstoppedmytruck,turneditaroundandfaceditdownhill.Isettheparkingbrake,turnedofftheengine,andwalkedthelastmileuptheroad.IfoundasecludedspotwhereIcouldpeeroverthevalleyrimandlookinside.”“Whatdidyousee?”Iasked,stunned.Mattresponded,“Well,downinthevalleybythespringsatthislargeflyingsaucer,withitsdooropen.

Itwasatleastasbigastherangethreeloungebuilding.Itwaschalkwhiteandellipsoidal.Outsidetherewerethesethreewhitepeople.Theywerechalkwhite,tallerthanyouare,andtheylookedalmosthuman.Theyhadstrunghammocksbetweensometrees.Theywereallsleeping,thewaypeopledoonapicnic.”Afterashortpausetocontrolhisemotions,hecontinued,“They’realotthinnerthenyouandIare.They

were sowhite and thin that at first, I thought Iwas lookingat somehumanswhowere sick,ormaybesufferingfromsomekindofwastingdisease.AfterIstudiedthemforafewminutes,Irealizedthattheyhadtobepeoplefromanotherplanet,andthattheywerejustnaturallythinnerandwhiterthanyouandIare.WhentherealityofwhatIwasseeingfinallysunkin,andwhenIrealizedhowaloneIwasoutinthedesert,milesfromanywhere,terrorspreadthroughme.AsfastandsilentlyasIcould,Iranthemileorsoback tomytruck. Istarted the truckby letting it rollawaysdownhilland throwing it ingear.Once itstarted,Icameoutof thereaboutasfastas that truckcouldtravel. IwasmilesdowntheroadbeforeIfinallystartedtocalmdown.”Thenhebecameveryagitated.Fearbegantoovercomehim,andtearsstartingforminginhiseyes.Stillstrugglingtomaintainmybigbrotherattitude,Iasked,“Youhadyourbinocularswithyou.Ifthe

doorwasopen,whatdidyouseewhenyoulookedinside?”To my shock, Matt continued without hesitation, in that same intensely earnest tone of voice,

“Hieroglyphs.”“Hieroglyphs?”Iasked,stunned.“Yes,”Matt responded, “Hieroglyphs, just like Egyptian hieroglyphs. Just inside the door was this

panelofswitchesorbuttons.Oneachswitchorbuttonwasadifferenthieroglyph.”Stunnedbeyonddescription, since Iwascertain thatMattwascompletelyunawareof thediscussion

thatIhadhadwithWayneduringthepokergame,Iasked,“Doyourememberwhatanyofthehieroglyphslookedlike?”“Yes,”Mattrespondedsimply.“Takingapencilandpieceofpaperfrommyworkarea,heproceeded

todrawthreeofthehieroglyphs.Handingittomegently,hestated,“Thesethreearefromthetoprowofbuttons.Thetoprowhadfivebuttonsthatwerebiggerthantheotherbuttonswhichwerebelowthem.”ThethreehieroglyphsthathedrewmatchedperfectlywiththefirstthreehieroglyphsdrawnbyWayne.

Steve’sriteofinitiationhadnowcomefullcircle.NowIwastheonebecominginitiated-initiatedintoanewworld-anewworldofnighttimeterror.Aworldsoterrifyingthatsoon,Iwouldnolongerbeabletodenythatitwasreal.

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IsItForNothing?...oneday,whenthesonsofGodcametopresentthemselvesbeforetheLord,

Satanalsocameamongthem.

AndtheLordsaidtoSatan,“Whencedoyoucome?

ThenSatanansweredTheLordandsaid,“Fromroamingtheearthandpatrollingit.”

AndtheLordsaidtoSatan,

“HaveyounoticedmyservantJob,andthatthereisnooneonearth

likehim…?

ButSatanansweredtheLord,“Isitfornothing

thatJobworshipsGod?...”

...Job1:6,10

TheMojaveWellsgunneryrangesweresereneandbeautifulplaces.InthesummertimeIenjoyedsittingquietlyalone inmydifferentweather shacks. Inbetweenballoon runs, Ienjoyed readinghistorybooksandlisteningtotheradioforentertainment.SometimesIbroughtoutpaint-by-numbersetsandspentmanyafternoonspaintingpicturesoffallmountainscenes.Thisbeautifulsummerdaydownatrangeone,wasnoexception.Afterfinishingthe12:30balloonrun,Itunedmyradiotosomesoftmusic,reachedformyfavoritehistorybook,andassumedacomfortable,relaxingpositioninmyfavoritechair.Myrangeoneweathershackwassimilartomyrangethreeshack.Thesidedoortotheshackopenedto

theeast.Coolafternoonbreezeswashedgently through itsopendoorsandwindows.Through theopendoor,couldbeseenthesagebrushcovereddesertstretchingfor35or40milesdowntherangeonevalleytothesoutheast.Thesagebrushstoodprobablyfourfeettallandwasinfullbloom.Thebrightpurplesageflowersformedavelvetblanketofbeauty.Dustdevilswerealreadyplayingoutamongtheheatwaves.Thehotafternoonsuncontinuedtodesiccatethealreadydrydesertfloor.Longandnarrow,bisectedbyadryarroyonorthofmyshack,flankedonthefarnorthbymountains,andseldomusedbytheAirForceforgunnerypractice,therangeonevalleyexistedinbeautiful,quiet,andsplendidisolation.Afterreadingafewpagesfrommyhistorybook,Ifounditunaccountablydifficulttoconcentrate.ForsomereasonthatIcouldn’t explain, I began to feel veryuneasy.Still new to the ranges, Iwondered if I hadbeen eatingproperly. I carefully closed my history book and placed it on the shelf next to my nearly full jar ofdrinkingwater.Ialwayskeptatleasttwogallonjarsofwaterwithme,oneinmyshackandoneinmytruck.Irealizedthatthedesert,forallofitsbeauty,couldalsobeunmerciful.Turningmy attention to the opendoor, I leanedback inmy chair and letmymindwander.My eyes

naturallywanderedout through theopendoor,andsoonmygaze fellon thebeautifulpurple sagebrushflowers. In the distance, slightly off to the southeast, perhaps two miles away, a group of unseen

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meadowlarks could be heard singing. I counted as I listened. First onewould start the chorus; then asecond would join in. Soon I could count perhaps 5 or 6 meadowlarks singing from various placesfaraway down the valley. It seemed natural enough. I frequently heardmeadowlarks singing in choruswhen I was out on the ranges, sometimes even at night. Usually the chorus lasted only a handful ofminutes.TheproblemIhadwasthat,forallofthesinging,Ihadneveractuallyseenameadowlarkoutonthe

ranges,dayornight.Todaywasnoexception.Despitethecontinuingchorus,theresimplywasn’tabirdinsight.Mymindwandereda little.Thegentlebreezes rustled thecurtainswhichhungbymywindows,and

softlyjingledthesafetychainwhichhungaroundmysupplyofheliumcylinders,movingahalfemptyboxofwhiteneopreneballoonswhichsatprecariouslyattheedgeofoneofmysupplyshelves.Instinctively,Ireachedoverandmovedtheboxtoamoresecureposition.Theballoonswerefragile.NormallyIkeptthe boxes stored securely towards the back of the storage shelves. I had been using red balloons forseveraldaysnow.IwascertainthatIhadleftthehalfemptyboxofwhiteballoonssittingatthebackofitsstorageshelfwhenIhaduseditlast.Ispentafewmomentswonderinghowitcouldpossiblyhavemovedtosuchaprecariouspositionatthefrontoftheshelf.AsIsatsemi-daydreaming,IwonderedwhytheAirForcehadwantedmetospendalllastweekand

thisweekmakingtheballoonrunsfromthisisolatedvalley.NormallyImadetherunsfromtherangethreevalleyseveralmilestothenorthwestofhere.Normally,theDesertCenterairbaseconsideredtherangeweatherreportstobeofthehighestimportance,eagerlyawaitedtheinformation,andcarefullyexaminedtheresults.However,theselastfewdaysspentatrangeonehadbeenquitedifferent.MyfriendDwighthadcheckedwiththeDesertCentercommandpost.Webothagreedthatnotasingleairplanehadusedanypartoftherangesduringallofthattime.Dwightinformedmethatmostofmywindreportshadendedupin the forecaster’swastepaperbasket,unused,unneeded,andunread.Theofficerat thecommandposthadrefusedtoeventakethetimetobetoldtheresults.Itseemedtobeawasteofgoodpaperjusttowritethemdown.Yet theDesertCenter commandpost hadbeen exceptionally explicit, direct, and insistent.Thiswas the valley theywantedme in. TheDesert Center base commander had personally given theorders.Theyspecificallywantedalloftheweatherreportstaken.Yesterday,inadditiontotheusualfullscheduleofwindmeasurements, theyhadevenorderedanadditional3:30p.m. lateafternoonrun.Yet,whenIphonedintheresults,thecommandpostsaiditdidn’tneedtoknowtheresults.TheyonlywantedtoverifythatIhadbeenondutyatrangeone,andhadtakentheballoonrunsasscheduled.Itdidn’tseemtomakeanysense,andInaturallywonderedwhy.Then Ibeganwonderingabout themeadowlarkcalls. Ihadbeenhearing themalldayyesterday,and

duringthelateafternoonofthedaybefore.TodayIhadbeenhearingthemeversincethefirstrunofthemorning,morethansevenhoursearlier.Somethingaboutitdidn’tfeelright.I felt safeenoughbeingouton this rangealone,even though thiswas thevalley thathadso terrified

Sullivanbeforeme.Irememberedthescaronhisarm.Iwonderedifalostlittleboyhadactuallyattackedhim.WhenIhadfirststartedcominghere,IfeltcertainthatIwasalone.Sometimeshowever,despitethevalley’sisolation,Ifounditimpossibletoactuallyfeelalone.OthertimesIfeltcertainthatIwasbeingwatched as I took my weather reports. Yet I hadn’t been able to answer the question, “Watched bywhom?”Oneday, although Iwas apparently alone, the feelingwas sooverwhelming that I chose toparkmy

pickuptrucklessthan10feetfrommytheodolite.Onthatday,Isatinmytruckformorethanahalfhourstudyingthesagebrushdowntothesoutheast,asSullivanhaddonebeforeme,tryingtodeterminewhatwascausingthefeeling.Onthatday,nothingappearedtobeunusual.AllIcouldidentifywasafewhalf

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glimpsedwhitepatches.Theywerewayoutintheheatwaves,movingthroughthehotsunlitsagebrush.ItwasalongtimebeforeIwasabletoputmyuneasyfeelingsaside,andgoontakingtheweatherreports.On this beautiful summer day as I satwondering andwatching the purple sagebrush rippling in the

gentlesummerwinds,Inoticedthatasectionofthesagebrushunderneathmygazewasmovingsomewhatmorethanexpected.Themovingsectionwaswithineasywalkingdistancefrommyweathershack.Itwasborderedonthenorthbythedeep,dryarroyo.Thatsectionwasmoreorlessaquarterofamiledownthevalleyandsomewhatnortheastofmyweathershack.Thatsectionwashealthier,taller,andmuchthickerthanmanyoftheothersections.Itwasalsomuchcloserthanthesectionswherethemeadowlarksoundswere coming from.Those sectionswere some twomiles distant and down the valley southeast ofmyweathershack.Ithoughtaboutthingsforawhile.Inoticedthatthesagebrushplantsweren’tuniformlyspacedacross

the valley floor.Rather, theywere arranged in irregular patcheswith narrow,maze like open lanes inbetween.Icontinuedgazingout towards themovingsectionofsagebrush.Suddenlymygaze fellonsomething

white.ItwasthereandthengonesosuddenlythatatfirstIthoughtitwasjustmyeyesplayingtricksonme.Afterwatchingthemovingsectionofsagebrushforanothertenminutesorso,Istartedseeingmoreglimpsesofthewhitepatchoutinthesagebrush.Thefewglimpsesseemedinnocentenough.IguessedthatIwasprobablyjustcatchingglimpsesofabird,oraseagull,oradesertmirage,orsomething.Suddenly,Igotanunusuallygoodglimpseofthechalkwhitepatchasitdashedacrossoneoftheopen

lanes.Itwasperhapsaquarterofamileoutinthemovingsectionofsagebrush.Icouldn’tbecertainwhatitwas.At first I thought itwasprobablyasmallcoyoteormaybea large rabbit,but italso lookedasthough it might have been a little girl, maybe age four. It’s movements seemed unusually erratic, anddesperate.Iwonderedifitwaslostoutthereinthenarrowlanesinthehot,thick,sagebrushmaze.Curiousnow,IdecidedthatIneededtogetacloserlookatwhateveritwasthatwasoutthere.Rising

slowlyfrommychair,Iputonmynewfatiguehatandsnappedafullcanteenofwaterintopositiononmybelt.Islowlysteppedoutthroughtheopendoorofmyweathershackontothesmallpatchofgravel.IputonthethickleatherglovesthatIfrequentlykeptstuffedintomybackpocket.Sagebrushcouldbehardonaman’shands.Usingthedoorwayasafootrest,Ire-tightenedthethicklacesonmyheavymilitarycombatboots.Istoodthereinthesunshineforafewminuteswatching.Nothinghappened.Icalledoutinaloudvoice,“Isanyoneoutthere?”Therewasnoresponse.Icalledagain,“Doesanyoneoutthereneedhelp?”Still, there was no response. After waiting for a fewminutes, I decided to investigate the sagebrushfurther. Stepping slowly across the steel cable fence that separatedmyweather shack from the desertbeyond,Ibeganwalkingslowlyintothesagebrush.Iwasinnohurry.Iwouldtakeafewsteps,thenstopandwatch for awhile.Sometimes Iwould take a sipofwater.Then Iwould call out somemore, “Isanyone out there? Does anyone out there need help?” Still, there was no response. I had just startedfeelingnoticeablyfoolishwhenIgotanotherglimpseofthesmall,whitethingdashingupacrosslaneinthethicksagebrush.Itnowseemedobvioustomethatthelittlewhitecreaturewaslostandtrappedinthemaze of plants, and unable to find itsway out.Becoming stillmore curious, I continuedmypolicy oftakingafewslowsteps.ThenIstoppedandwatchedforawhile.Since Iwaswearing a good pair of protectivemilitary combat boots, a good sturdy set ofmilitary

fatigues,and thick leathergloves, Iwasn’t limited to traversing theopen lanes in thesagebrush,as thesmallwhitecreaturewas.SinceIwasmuchtaller thantheplants,Ialsohadamuchbetterviewofthemaze.Itwasasimplemattertoopennewlanesbybreakingandtramplingdownsomeoftheplants.Usingmyweightandmyheavymilitarycombatboots,Iproceededtocarefullycutaseriesofnewlanesthroughtheirregularpatchesofsagebrush.Thismadeiteasyformetoout-maneuvertheobjectofmyinterest.A

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slowmotiongameof cat andmouse followed. Iwould standmotionless,watching the sagebrush for awhile.ThenIwouldcalloutinaloudvoice,“Areyoulost?Doyouneedhelp?Areyourparentsheretohelpyou?”ThenIwouldcutanewlane,standwaitingforafewminutes,andcalloutloudly,“Don’tbeafraid,Iwon’thurtyou.Doyouneedhelpfindingyourparents?”Afteronlyafewmovesinthegame,IbecameconvincedthatwhateverIwaspursuingwasfarmore

intelligentthananyanimal.Idecidedthatitprobablywasalostlittlegirl.Forthatreason,Icontinuedtoplaythecat-and-mousegameinaslow,cautiousmanner.Thegametookmefurtherandfurther into thesagebrush.SoonIfoundmyselfatleastaquarterofamilenortheastofmyweathershack,immersedinthebeautifulpurplemeadows.Icontinuedcallingoutinaloudvoice,everynowandthen,“Littlegirl,don’tbeafraid.Areyoulost?I

willnothurtyou.Ionlywanttohelpyoufindyourparents.”Therewasneveranyresponse.Bynow,IwascertainthatIneededtogetagoodcloselookatthewhitecreaturethatIwasslowlypursuing.Ibeganplayingthisgamewithstillgreaterintensity.Keepingtrackofthelittlewhitecreature’smovementsrequiredmyutmostattention.Ihadtocarefully

studythemovementsoftheclumpsofsagebrushastheyswayedgentlyinthesummerwinds.SometimesIhadtowaitpatientlyforseveralminutesforaquickglimpseofsomethingwhite,dashingupsomedistantside lane.Without thinkingmuchabout it, I noticed that themeadowlark sounds,whichhadpreviouslybeensometwomilesdownthevalley,hadnowmovedquicklyupthevalleytowardsme.Oneoftheseunseenmeadowlarks, using themaze for concealment, hadmoved swiftly up the valley andwas nowpositionedbehindalarge,nearbyclumpofsagebrush.Itwasonlyfiftyfeetorso,offtomyright.Anotherunseenmeadowlark,concealedbyboth themazeandthenearsideof thearroyo,fell inbehindanotherclumpofsagebrushlessthan70feettomyleft.ThenInoticedthatanotherthreeorfourusedthedeeppartof the arroyo for cover, redeploying in swiftmilitary fashion. They now formed a large arc a couplehundred feet across, andwere located on the far side of the thick clumpof sagebrush that Iwas nowsearching.Then I noticed that the unseenmeadowlark onmy right issued a series of sounds noticeably higher

pitchedandlouderthanusual.Uponhearingit,thewhitecreaturethatIwaspursuingcametoafullstopandstoodmotionless.Shestoodwaiting forme tobreak through theunusually thicksagebrush into thelanewhereshewas.Not feelinganyfear, I ignored theunseenmeadowlarksandcontinuedmycatandmousegame.Havingcomesofarintothedesert,intheheatandinthesage,IwasdeterminedtocloseonthelittlewhitecreaturethatInowfeltcertainmustbelost.Closing slowlyon theobject ofmy interest, I continuedmypolicyof trampling straightwide aisles

through the otherwise beautiful sagebrush.Opening another new lane by cutting easily through the lastsection in themaze, I trapped the smallwhite creature in the short dead-end sagebrush alleywhere itstood.Itwasapparentlywaitingformetofinishmywork.BynowIwasmorethanahalfamileoutinthehot sunshine and out in the dry, beautiful purple sagebrush. A chorus of sounds from the unseenmeadowlarkscouldsuddenlybeheardonbothsidesofme,andinfrontofme.However,nonecamefrombehindme.Ithadbeenapleasantgameofcatandmouse.ItwaswithobvioussatisfactionthatIsteppedthroughmynewlycreatedlaneinthelastirregularpatchofsagebrush.Mypresenceblockedtheentranceintothesmalldead-endlaneandclosedthetraponthesmallwhitecreaturethatIhadbeenpursuing.Thelanewasnomorethan15feetdeep.Ihadtheobjectofmyslowpursuittrapped,standingnomorethan10feet in frontofme.As Iwascompleting thewinningmove in this slowgameofcat andmouse, Iwassayinggently,asthoughIwerespeakingtoalostlittlegirl,“Don’tbeafraid.Iwillnothurtyou.Iwillnoteventouchyou.Areyoulost?Areyououtherealone?Doyouneedhelpfindingyourparents?Doyouneedadrinkofwater?Ifyou’relost,Iwillhelpyoufindyourparents.”Turningatlasttowardsthelittle

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whitecreature,theshockwastoogreattofullyregisteronmybrain.Standingbarely10feetfromme,andshakinginabsoluteterrorofme,stoodasmalllittlewhitegirl,

probablyonly3feettall.Yet,asIlookedather,mymindnumbfromshock,Irealizedthatshewasn’tanordinarylittlegirl.Herskinwaschalkwhite.Sheworeachalkwhitejumpsuitwithsolidwhiteastronautlikeboots.Thesuitappearedtohavebeenconstructedfromanaluminizedcanvaslikematerial.Herbootsappearedtohavebeenmadefromamoldednylonlikematerial.Shehadshortblondehairandbrightblue,intelligentlookingeyes.Shewasobviouslyexhausted.Asawaveofshocktriedtopounditswayintomyconsciousness,InoticedthatshewasmuchthinnerthananylittlegirlIhadeverpreviouslyseen.ThenInoticedhereyes.TheyweremuchlargerthanthoseofanyotherlittlegirlI’deverseen.Herintelligentlookingeyesmoldedsmoothlyaroundthesideofherhead,noticeablyfartherthanthoseofanyhuman.IbegantofeeldizzyfromshockasInoticedthatherglovedhandscontainedonly4fingers,andappearedtoendinshortsharpclawsinsteadoffingernails.Retreatinginshockandfear,Isteppedbackacoupleofstepsintothecross-lane.Thisreleasedthetrap

onthelittlewhitecreatureandopenedherescaperoute.Italsotookheroutofmyview,sothatIcouldcalmdownalittle.Slightlybehindmeandhiddeninthethicksagesomefiftyfeetofftomyright,Icouldhearanunusuallyloud,piercing,andshrillsound.Stillanothersound,muchsofterthanthefirst,couldbeheardonceortwicecomingfromthelanewherethelittlegirlwas.Forthefirsttime,fearbeganbuildingfromdeepwithinme.ItseemedlikesomeoneelsewastalkingasIslowlyrecited,“Don’tbeafraid.I’mnotcominganycloser.Iwillnottouchyou.Ithoughtyouwerelost.Ithoughtyouneededhelpfindingyourparents.”Knowingthatthelittlegirlwasshakinginterrorofme,feelingshockandfearmyself,itseemedonly

natural forme to turnback towards thewest, towards thedirectionofmyweather shack. I tooka fewstepsinthatdirection.Speakingnowwithmybacktowardsher,andtryingtoblockthescenethatIhadjustwitnessedfrommymind,Icontinued,“Don’tworry.Iwon’thurtyou.I’mtheweathermanouthere.That’smyweathershackoverthere.I’mgoingbacktomyweathershacknow.”ThenItooktwoorthreeslowstepsbacktowardsmyweathershack.Icontinuedspeakingloudlyandslowly,“Ifyouneedhelp,justcomeovertomyweathershackandaskme.See,I’vealreadyopenedawidelaneforyou.Youdon’thavetocomeinside.Youcanjuststayoutinthedesertandthrowarockatmyshacktogetmyattention.I’llhelpyoufindyourparentsifIcan.IcouldphonetheDesertCenterbasecommanderandtellhimyouareoutherealone.Hewouldknowwhereyourparentsare.Hewouldtellthemforsure.”Taking two or threemore steps back towardsmy shack, I continued, “You’re probably thirsty. You

probablyneedsomewater.Ihavesomewaterinmyshackifyouneedadrink.”Therewasnoresponsefrombehindme. I couldhearonly soft,pleasantmeadowlarksounds. I continuedwalkingslowlybacktowardsmyweathershack,stillspeakingloudlyandslowly.Iwasshakingnoticeablyfromshock,“I’llputsomewateronthatpostforyou.Ifyouneedit,youcandrinkallyouwant.Ihaveplentymore.”Icontinuedwalkingslowlybacktowardsmyweathershack.Mynerveswerestillshaking.WhenIhad

coveredabouthalfofthedistancebacktomyweathershack,Istoppedforamomentandturnedslowlyaroundtoseeifanythinghadchangedbehindme.Iexpectedtoseethelittlelostgirlfollowingmefromadistance.Instead,Igotjustamomentaryglimpseofatallthinadultwhitecreature,probably6feettall,runningdownoneof thenewlycreated lanes and turning into thedead-endalleywhichheld the smallwhitecreature.Theninonesmoothmotion,itduckeddownbehindthesagebrush.Iwasinfartoomuchshockatthetimeforthesceneanditsimplicationstofullyregisteronmynumbed

brain.Therearescenesthatyourmindwillallowyoutosee,andscenesthatyourmindwillnotallowyoutosee.Fromdeepwithinme,Icouldtellthatthiswasascenethatmymindwouldnotallowmetofullysee.Turningback towardsmyweathershack, Icontinuedwalkingslowlyback towards itssafety.

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Arriving finally back atmyweather shack, I stepped back into the quiet shaded safety ofmy isolatedworld. I closed and locked the doors. I sat down inmy favorite chair and proceeded to try to forgeteverythingIhadjustwitnessed.Aftersittingquietlyforafewminutesandtakingafewdrinksofwater,Istartedfeelingguiltyfornot

havingsetoutthewaterasIhadpromisedthelittlewhitegirl.Afterthinkingaboutitforafewminutes,Iaroseagain.Ilocatedmyjarofwaterandslowlyreopenedthesidedoortothebeautifuldesertoutside.Ihappilynoted thateverythingoutside seemednormal.Nothingseemedoutofplace. I carriedmy jarofwateroutsideandlocatedawidesquarewoodenpostwithaflattop.Thecablefenceconsistedofarowofsuchpostsconnectedbyasinglesteelcable.Althoughallofthepostsweresimilar,findingapostwithaflat leveltopwasquitedifficult.ConsequentlythepostIselectedhaduniquefeatures.Iset thejarofwaterontopofthepost.Icarefullypositioneditsothatanychildcouldfindit.Islightlyloosenedthecap.ThenIshoutedloudlyoutintothedesert,“See,littlegirl.Iamplacingsomewaterhereforyou.Youmaydrinkitanytimeyouwant.”Istoodtheresilentlyforafewminuteswatchingthesagebrushinthedistance.Asbefore,therewasnoreply.Everythingseemedtobebeautiful,purple,andnormal.TheonlydifferenceInoticedwasthatnowtherewerenomeadowlarklikesoundscomingfromoutinthesagebrush.Iwasgreetedonlybythequietwhisperingofthedesertwinds.Afterwatchingthesagebrushforafewmoreuneventfulminutes,IdecidedtophonetheDesertCenter

airbaseandaskifanychildrenhadbeenreportedmissing.Returningtomyweathershackanddialingthephone,IwassoonspeakingtomyfriendDwight,thedutyweatherobserverfortheday.Dwightcheckedwith theDesertCenter commandpost.As Ihad requested,heasked to speakpersonallywith thebasecommander. The base commander insisted that no lost children had been reported. Yet, according toDwight,thebasecommander,atwostargeneral,hadthankedhimprofuselyformakingthephonecall.Likeeverythingelse, itdidn’tseemtomakeanysense.TheconversationwithDwightwasafriendly

conversation. However, the phone line was heavy with static. Both Dwight and I quickly becameconvinced that someone else was listening in on our supposedly private line. Still shaking from myexperienceandfeelingveryillatease,ItoldDwightthatIwasn’tfeelingwell.Webothdecidedthatthebestthingformetodowastocancelthelastrunforthedayandheadbackintobase.Forsomereason,theDesertCenterbasecommanderhappilyagreed.Withoutfurtherado, Ihungup thephone,closedupmyweathershackandheadedformyparkedpickuptruck.Asbefore,nothingoutsideinthedesertappearedtobeout of theordinary.Yet the feeling that Iwasbeingwatchedby somethingout in thedesertwasabsolutelyoverwhelming.Ididn’tactuallyfeelthreatened.Ijustfeltcertainthatfiveorsixpeoplewerewatchingmeintently.Ifeltcertainthatthesepeople,forsomeunexplainedreason,approvedofwhateverit was that I had done. Every time I turned my head to look out into the sagebrush, I would catchmomentaryglimpsesofthings,thingsthatmyshockedandconfusedmindrefusedtoletmeactuallysee.Mybrainkeptsayingtome,“Justkeepwalking.Don’tlistentoanything.Don’tlookback.Everythingwillbeallright.Justkeepwalking,anddon’tlookback.”Once Iwassafely insidemy truck, I locked the truckdoors,andstarted theengine. Iquicklyput the

truckingearandheadedbackintotown.Allofthetime,astheroadcarriedmeacrossthedrylakebed,throughthetallsagebrushandupthemountainslopesbeyond,thefeelingthatIwasbeingwatchedwassimplyoverwhelming.IunderstoodwhySullivanhaddeserted.Itwasn’tuntilIreachedthelowpassinthemountainsthatIwasfinallyabletocalmdownandstartthinkingagain.OnlythendidIstoppraying.OnlythendidIstopaskingJesustoprotectmefromwhateveritwasthatIhadencountered.Comingoutofthepass,IcouldseetheMojaveWellsbaseinthedistance.Itlookedsobeautifuland

peacefulasitlayexposedintheafternoonsunshine.AsIdrovetowardsthisimageofbeautyandpeacefulsecurity,IrealizedthatlikeSullivan,Itoo,hadadecisiontomake.Irealizedthattheweatherreporting

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schedule for the coming daywas identical to the one I had been ordered to follow on this day. LikeSullivan, I realized that whatever had been watching me from out in the sagebrush today would bewatchingme fromout in the sagebrush tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day.The prospect ofdriving out to range one alone, at 3:15 a.m. in the morning, was scary enough. Now the prospect ofworkingouttherealoneinthenighttime,knowingthatsomethingunknownwashidingoutinthesagebrushwatchingmyeverymove,wasterrifyingbeyonddescription.Yet,IrealizedthatIhadnootherchoice.Thewind-reportingschedulecameasasetofordersfromtheDesertCenterbasecommander.Hewasatwostar generalwho had developed the bad habit of expecting his every order to be obeyed to the letter.Failuretoobeyageneral’sorderswouldleadtoasimpledrumheadcourtmartial.IknewwhatIhadtodo.Formyowngood,Ihadtoforcemyselftoforgetwhathadjusthappened.Formyowngood,Ihadtoforceallmemoriesofitoutofmymind.Ihadtorememberonlythatwhateverhadbeenouttheretoday,had also been out there yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. Formyowngood I had toremember that it hadn’t attackedmeonanyof themanyoccasions in thepastwhen it obviouslycouldhave.IkeptremindingmyselfthatIhadn’tdoneanythingtodaythatwouldcauseittochangeitsmind.Idecided at last to rely onGod for protection and to closemymind to the entire incident. I set aboutconvincingmyselfthatnothingwhateverhadbeenwatchingmefromoutinthesagebrush,downatrangeone.Iproceededtospendtheremainderofthedaythinkinguppossiblealternateexplanationsforwhathad happened. Silly as some of the explanationswere, they gaveme the courage to continuewithmyweatherobservingdutiesoutatrangeone.IdecidedtoconvincemyselfthatwhatIhadreallyseenwasanewandundiscoveredtypeoflargewhiteseagull.Igaveitaname.Icalledit,“TheGulloftheDistantSage”.Thefollowingmorningthedriveouttorangeonewasasimpletestofcourage.Myseagullstoryhad

givenmeverylittle.Therewasonlyasliverofmoonlight.Iwasterrifiedofeveryshadow,everyrock,andeveryrabbit.Yet,emotionalvegetablethatIwas,Iwasdeterminedtoperformmyweatherobserverduties asordered. I rolleddown thewindowonmy truck. I sangmy summer sunshine songs loud andslow.Asmytrucktraversedthelowmountainpassandbeganheadingdowntowardsthedrylakebedinthedistance,myhandswere shaking fromfear somuch thatmy truck left thegravel roadandbouncedharmlessly across thedesert.After a short distance, I regained control andgotmy truckbackonto thegravel road. I stoppedmy truckon the roadandsurveyed thedry lakebedahead in thedistancebeforecontinuingon.Nothingappearedtobeoutofplace,butthatdidlittletocalmmedown.Inordertoovercometheterror

thatIfelt,Iworkedhardtryingtoconvincemyselfthatmyseagullexplanationwascorrect.IdecidedthatsinceIwasthediscovererofthissupposednewkindofseagull,Ishouldmakeupmorenamesforit.Sillyas thisgamewas, itdidhelpmegetbettercontrolofmyself. Idecided that Iwouldgivemyseagullasecondname.IdecidedIwouldalsonamethenewseagull“Charlie’sGull”.PlayingthissillygameletmefinallygetbacktowhereIcouldlaughalittleatmyself.Evenso,IapproachedtherangeoneareawithasmuchfearandcautionasSullivaneverhad.WhenIfinallyarrivedatrangeone,nothingappearedoutofplace.Nothing,thatis,exceptthebottleof

waterwhichIhadleftsittingonthepostthedaybefore.Duringmyabsence,someonehadremovedhalfofthewater,replacedthecapsnugly,andplacedthejaronthegroundnexttothepost.Aroundthepostweretwonewsetsoffootprints,inadditiontothefootprintsthatIhadleftinthesoftdesertsoilthedaybefore.Onesetoffootprintshadbeenmadebyasmallchildwearingboots.Theothersetwassimilartothefirst,excepttheywerethoseofanadult.Iestimatedthatthechilddidn’tweighmorethen30pounds.Theadultappearedtoweighnotmorethen110pounds.Aloneinthedesertnight,oncemoreterrorbeganwellingupinsideofme.Interror,IrealizedthatIhad

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nochoicebuttotakethemorningwindsandphonetheminusingthephoneinsidemyrangeoneweathershack. Itwasagoodhour’sdriveback intoMojaveWells. Ifmywindswere that late andmadeup, Iwouldbelookingatacourtmartialandasectioneight,forsure.Itwaswithacertaindeterminedmilitarygrimnessthen,thatIsetaboutmyduties.Iclimbedintothesafetyofmytruckandstartedit.Ilockedthedoorsandturnedtheheadlightsonbright.Icarefullyinspectedeverysquareinchofthegraveledareaatrangeone. I positionedmy truck so that theopen frontdoorofmy truckwas less then4 feet from thetheodolitestand.Isettheparkingbrakeandleftthetruckenginerunning.Ialsoleftthelightsonbright.The truckwaspositioned so that thebright lights shoneout into the sagebrushmazewhere I hadbeenwalking the day before. Then, singing loudly in a high voice to build up my failing, vegetable-likecourage,Igingerlygotoutofmytruckandopenedmyweathershack.IphonedtheDesertCenterweatherstationtomakesuretheyknewIwasonthejob.Then,inhurried

fashion,Itookthemorningwindmeasurements.Iperformedthecalculationsinrecordtimeandphonedthem intoDesertCenter. I closeddownand lockedup theweather stationas fastashumanlypossible.Withterrorandfearbuildingwithinme,Isprintedbacktomywaitingtruckandclimbedin.Ilockedthedoors,putthetruckintogear,andbeganheadingoutacrossthegraveledareatowardstheroadbacktotheMojaveWellsbase.Ihadbeenjumpinginfearofeveryshadow,everytremblingleaf,andeverygustofwind.Eventhoughnothinghadactuallyhappenedonthemorningrun,Iwas,bynow,soterrified,thatmybrainhadswitchedtotunnelvision.Iwasinnearpanic.Emotionally I had switched into complete denial of the previous day’s events. For that reason, I

assumed thatmymindwasplaying tricksonmeas Ibroughtmy truckoutonto thegravel road.On theedgeofmyvision,Igotamomentaryglimpseofsomethingtallandwhite,standingonlyahundredfeetorso,outinthesagebrushnortheastoftherangeonearea.InnearpanicasIwas,Ihitthegas,shiftedintohighgear,flooredthegaspedal,headedoutacrossthedrylakebedandbacktowardsbase.TherewassomethingabouttherangeoneareathismorningthathadfeltfardifferentfromanythingIhad

everfeltbefore.WhenIhadgottentheglimpseofthewhitecreature,thistimeithadfeltasthoughitwereayoungwoman,standing,waitinginthesagebrushtothankmeforwhateverIhaddonethedaybefore.Itfelt as though the littlewhite girlwas her daughter and had actually been lost. It felt as though I hadactuallylocatedherforthem.MymindwassolockedinterroratthetimethatIwasbarelyabletodrive.ForamomentitfeltasthoughafriendlyAfricanlionhadbeenwaitingtothankme.Thenitfeltasthoughsomeoneveryimportant,likeAbrahamLincoln,hadbeenwaitingtheretothankme.Withpanicspreadingrapidlythroughmybrain,Ihitthegassomemoreandspedupuntilmytruckwasjustbarelyabletostayonthegravelroad.ItwasinthiswretchedstatethatIstruggledtokeepcontrolofmyselfasIheadedbacktowardsMojaveWells.Itwasn’tuntilIwasbackthroughthepass,andtheMojaveWellsbaseareahadcomeintoviewthatIwaswillingtoturnmyheadfromonesidetotheother.IhadbeentooterrifiedtoevenlookinmymirrorsasIdrove.Halfwayfromthepasstothebasearea,theterrorofitallfinallyoverwhelmedme.Istoppedmytruck

andfelloutofthedriver’ssidedoor.Ilandedonmyhandsandonmyknees,onthehardrocksandgravel.I proceeded to vomitmy guts onto the desert floor. Iwas sick from terror.When I stopped, Iwas sohystericalthatImomentarilyforgotI’dbeendrivingmytruck.ExceptthatIwasonmykneesvomiting,Iwouldhavebrokenintototalhysteriaandranscreaminginterrordowntheroadbacktobase.AfterIhadspentsometwentyminutesonmyknees,crawlinginthedirtandsagebrush,vomitingmygutsintothesandandsagebrushandonto thegravelhighway, Iwas finallyable todragmyselfback intomy truck,wildeyed,withtearsoffearandterrorfillingmyeyes.Ignoringmyscrapesandcutsandscratches,Iplacedmytruckingearanddrovebacktowardsbasewiththebrutaldeterminationofasoldiercominghomefromawarzone.

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Ipulledmytruckupinfrontofthechowhallandparked.Isatthereforseveralminutes,myfaceinmyscrapedhands,tryingtoregaincontrolofmyself.IwasthankingGodforthechowhall,anditsfeelingofclosenessandsecurity.Iwassickfromthemorning’sexperience.KnowingthatIstillhadfourmorewindmeasurementstotake,justtodayalone,madetheterrorevenworse.Myheadwaspounding.IwasshakingsobadlythatIwasn’tsureIcouldgetoutofmytruckandwalkintothechowhall.Idecidedtorestforafewminutesandprayforhelpbeforemakingtheattempttogoinforbreakfastandcoffee.As I sat there with my window rolled down, reciting the Lord’s Prayer over and over, trying

desperately to regainmycourage,my friendSmokey, theheadcook, cameoutof the chowhall.Goodfriend, confidant, and genius that he was, there was little point in ever trying to hide anything fromSmokey.Withoneglancehecouldseemyterror.Heknewexactlyhowtocalmmedown.Hewalkeduptomytruck,greetedme,andlaughingalittle,said,“Charlie,Idon’tknowwhatyouhavegoneanddonenow,but thatbasecommandinggeneraldownatDesertCenterhasgoneandmemorizedyourname.Hetoldmesohimself.You’resureinalotoftroublenow.Itoldyou,you’dgetyourselfintroublegoingoutthereintothedeserteverymorninglikeyoudo,didn’tI?Didn’tItellyouthatyoushouldbespendingyourmorningssettinginthereinthechowhalldrinkingcoffee,shootingthebullwithme,andmakingupthosewinds,justlikeall thoseotherweatherobserversusedtodobeforeyou.”Thenhelaughedsomemore.You’reaswhiteasaghost,Charlie.Youwouldn’t standout anymore, looking thewayyoudo, ifyouweretogobackouttheretonightwearingneondiapers.”Helaughedsomemore.Turningmoreserious,hecontinued:“Youknow,ifyou’regoingtogoouttherealoneeverynightlikeyoudo,andexpecttosurvive,you’regoingtohavetofaceuptowhateverisoutthere.You’renevergoingtobeabletohidefromit,notwithallthatbabywhiteskinofyours.You’regoingtohavetolearntostandyourgroundwhenitwalksinonyoufromoutinthesagebrush.Beforeyougooutthereagain,Charlie,it’smydutybeforeJesustogetyou to brown down like me, so you can blend in with the shadows like I do. That way, that basecommandinggeneraldownatDesertCenterwon’tevergetontowhatyou’vebeendoingoutthere.Thatway,he’llneverlearnyourname.”Myheadstillaching,andmypulsestillpoundingfromthemorning’sevents,Ifinallyasked,whispering

meeklythroughmyveiloftears,“TheDesertCenterbasecommanderknowsme?”Smokey laughedand responded,“Yes,heknowsyou,Charlie. Justa fewminutesago,hepersonally

calledup thechowhallherewithamessageforyou.Heorderedmetofillacoupleof large thermos’withcoffeethewayyoulikeit,collectupsix,eightpiecesoftoastalongwithsomegoodbreakfastthings,eggs,bacon,andstuff,andcomegetyouusingthechowhalltruck.ThatnewcookandIwereinthererightnowgettingthestufftogetherwhenwesawyoudriveup.Thatgeneralsaidyouwerestoppedoutthereonthe range one road, sick and vomiting, down on your hands and knees, and unable to drive. He evenknows you by name, Charlie. You know you got to be in a lot of trouble now-now that the BaseCommandinggeneralhasgoneandlearnedyourname.”Off balance and still in shock, Imeekly asked, “Whatwas themessage?” Smokey pretended not to

noticethatIwaswipingthetearsoffearfrommyeyesatthetime.Smokeylaughedasbefore,bentover,spitontheground,andresponded,“Hesaid‘Thanks’.”“Youmean‘Thanksforthemorningwinds?’”Iasked.“No,”respondedSmokey.Hestraightenedupandlookedmestraightintheeye.“Youknowhedoesn’t

careanythingaboutthosewinds.That’swhyyoushouldbemakingthemupforyourownsafety,likeallofthose other weather observers did before you. He said ‘Thanks’ for whatever it was that you didyesterday.Hesaid,‘don’tworry.Thebutterflyisunharmedandperfectlysafenow.Hesaidthebutterflyranoffwhileplaying in the flowersandgothopelessly lost.Shegot trappedout in that thicksageandcouldn’tgetout.Hesaideveryonewaslookingalloverinthewrongplaces.Thesagebrushwassothick

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that it screwed everything up.Everyonewasworried sick, including the general himself.He said youweretheonethatfigureditallout,andshowedeveryonewherethebutterflywas.Hesaidyouwentoutthere like some big gorilla, cut through the thick sagebrush, and set the butterfly free. He said theywouldn’t have found the butterfly in time or gotten through that thick sage in timewithout you.” ThenSmokeypausedforaminutebeforecontinuing.“Thegeneralalsosaidtherestofthewindrunsfortodayarecanceled.Thewindsfortherestoftheweekarealsocanceled.Thecancellationorderisirrevocable.Hesaidhe’sorderingyouto taketherestof theweekoffasfreemedical leave.HesuggestedthatyoucalmdownbyhavingfuninLosAngelesatAirForceexpense.ThenormalwindschedulewillresumefromrangeonenextMondaymorningat8:00a.m.Hesaidthey’dskipovernextMonday’s4:30morningrunsoyoucouldrebuildyourcourageinthesunshine.HealsopromisedthatalloftherangeswouldbedesertedonMonday.”Withmymindnowintotaldenialandconfusion,Ibreathedoutonemorequestion,“Didthegeneralsay

anythingelse?”“Yes,”respondedSmokey.“Hesaidheadmiredyourbravery.HesaidnobodydownatDesertCenter

orbackeastatthePentagon,hastheslightestideahowyoucouldhavegoneanddonesuchagoodthing.Hesaidthathehasneverseenanymanwiththegutsthatyouhave.Thenhesaidsomethingreallystrange,Charlie,”statedSmokeymatter-of-factly.“Whatwasit?”Iwhispered.Smokeylookedseriousforaminuteorsoandresponded,“Hesaidhewantedyoutoknowthatbecause

ofwhatyoudidyesterday,therewasn’tanythingwhiteoutontherangeswhichyouwouldeverneedtobeafraidof.HesaidthatheandthePentagon,andeveryoneelsethat’swhite,hasgoneandlearnedallaboutyoubyname.Youknowthatyouhavetobeinalotoftroublenow,Charlie.There’snodoubtthatthebasecommandinggeneralhasgotyouinhissights’causehe’sgoneandmemorizedyourname.”Iwastooconfused,sick,terrified,andshocked,torespond.Smokey,laughingagain,gentlyopenedthe

door tomy truckandsaid,“Comeon,Charlie.You’veat leastgottenadecent ‘Deer in theheadlights’look,backinyoureyes.Whateverisoutthere,Icanseeit’sputyouthroughonefinepieceoflivinghell.Whateveritis,itcanwait’tillMonday.ThisisonemorningwhenyouneedyourbrotherSmokeytocomelookafteryou.Remember,youandI,we’reblood!It’seventhegeneral’sordersformetotakecareofyou.Comeonin,brother.Let’sgetussomecoffee.We’llgiveyouthatnicebreakfastwe’vefixed.Youcanbrowndownagainandgetsomecolorbackin thosefourbabywhitecheeksofyours.Youneedtospend some time forgetting about whatever white is waiting for you out there on those distant, sagecoveredhellishranges.Remember,youandIareofakind.Neitheroneofusiswhite.ThatmorningasIwalked,shaking,towardsthechowhallwithSmokeysteadyingme,andtellingmethe

humorousversionofhis life’s story, I saida littleprayer.First I swore that Iwould religiously forgetwhateverIhadseenoutinthesagebrushonrangeone.ThenIthankedGodforSmokey.

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OlympicTryoutsSothekingorderedDanieltobebrought

andcastintothelion’sden.

ToDanielhesaid,“MayyourGod,

whomyouservesoconstantly,saveyou.”

...Daniel6:17

ItwasabeautifuleveninginMojaveWells.Aftertheeveningchow,IhadspentseveralhoursshootingpoolintheMojaveWellsAirmen’sclub.Itwasunusuallylate,slightlypastmidnight,whenIfinallygotbacktomybarracks.Iwasstillbunkinginthehuge,emptydoublebarracksbytheMojaveWellsflightline,thebarrackswiththebathroomsinthemiddle.Thebarrackswerelong,hadonlytwodoors,wereverypoorly lit,andhadonly twowindows.With itsunusualcreaksandshadows, itcertainlywasn’tabarracksforthefainthearted.Ithadenoughbunksandcubiclesfor60or70men.However,Iwasbunkingaloneinthebarracksbecausenoonebutmewouldagreetospendanightsleepingthere.I had just taken my nightly shower, and I was drying off when I heard something in one of the

compartmentsdownbythewestdoor.Iwouldhaverunouttheotherdoor,butIdidn’thaveanyclotheson.Icouldn’tseeanything,butIfeltcertainthatIwasbeingwatchedbysomething.Whatever it was, it seemed intensely curious about little things… things like how Iwas dryingmy

shoulderswithatowel.After a fewnervousmoments, I finally gotmy civilian clothes on.Gettingdressed took somedoing

becauseIwastooscaredtogobackintomycompartmentandturnmybackonwhateveritwasI’dheard.AfterIgotdressed,Ileftthebarracksthroughtheotherdoorandgottomytruck.Istartedmytruckandparkeditattheeastendofthebuilding.Ispecificallyparkedoutsidethebarracksdooronthenorthsidenexttotheeastend.ThisletmeseetheentireMojaveWellsrunwayandthecompletedesertvalleythatranstraightnorthfromthebarracks.Icouldseeallthewayupthevalley,tothemountainsonthefarnorthend,perhaps105milesaway.Ilockedmytruckdoorsanddecidedtositandwatchthebarrackstoseewhoorwhatcameout.Atabout2:00a.m.mypatiencewasrewarded.Somethingcameoutfromhidingonthewestendofthebarracksandwentrunningoutintothevalleytowardsthemountainstothenorthwest.IthappenedsofastthatIcouldhardlybelievemyeyes.Itappearedtobeatallshockinglywhiteperson,approximately6feettall.Itappearedtohavesolid,chalkwhiteskin,shoulderlengthblondehair,anditranatleasttwiceasfastasanyOlympicrunnerwouldhaverun.Itappearedtobewearingsometypeofaluminumclothing that gave off a softwhite fluorescent light.Theway the creature ranwas distinctlyfeminine. Ithad surprisingly thinarmsand legs, and ithad three little children, just like itself, runningafterit.Whentheygotaboutamileandahalfoutwherethesagebrushstartedgettingtall, theyallbentdown, and disappeared by hiding in the sagebrush. I stayed locked inmy truck and keptwatching thebarracks.Abouttenminuteslater,Isawasecondtallwhitecreaturepeekatmefromaroundtheoppositeendofthebarracks.Thissecondadultcreaturemovedinamannerthatwasdistinctlymaleandalsostoodapproximately6feettall.Afterafewmoreminutes,hetoo,wentrunningoutfromhidingonthewestsideofthebuilding.Heranoutintothedeserttothenorthwest,astheothershadandhidinthesagebrush.Iclockedhim.Asaweatherman,Ihadlongsincememorizedthe locationofallof thehills,gullies,and

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pointsofinterestintheMojaveWellsvalley.Iwaswearingmywatch,anditwasaneasymattertotimethecreatures.Computing the speedwithwhich the runnershad traveledwasalsoa simplematter.Thewomanand thechildrenwererunningbetween25and30milesperhour.Themanwasrunninga littlefaster.Hewasrunningatabout35milesperhour.AstherealityofwhatIhadseensankslowlyintomybrain,Ifoundmyselfbecomingterrified.Fora

fewminutes,Isatinmytruck,shakinginfear,notevenabletolightacigarette.Iwatchedthesagebrushsomemore,andnothinghappened,butafterahalfhourorso,Icouldseesome

fluorescentpatchesupinoneofthemountainpasses,some10-15milesnorthwestoftheMojaveWellsBase. I decided that the emergencymust be over. Thewhole experience had leftme dog-tired. Iwasafraidtogobackintomybarracks,soIwenttosleepinmytruck.Itookthemorningwindsinmycivilianclothes thatdaybecausemyfearofgoingback intomybarracksdidn’tsubsideuntilwellaftersunup.WhenIfinallydidgobackin,therewasn’tanythingunusualtobefoundexceptthatafewofmyclotheshadbeenmoved.When I told Steve about everything over the supper table, he became really angry with me. He

criticizedme,saying,“Ireallylikeyou,Charlie.You’rethebestandclosestfriendI’veeverhad.You’vebeenbetterthananybrothertome.I’ddietokeepanythingfromhappeningtoyou,butitwassostupidofyou to park your truck out there andwait.You’ve got to learn to get some brains about you,Charlie.You’vegottolearntobackawayfromstufflikethat.Whatifthey’ddecidedtocomeoutyourendofthebarracks,notknowingthatyouwerethere?Whatwouldyouhavedonethen?’Defensively,Iresponded,“ButwhatIsawwasn’treal,wasit?Imean,Iwasjustdreaming,wasn’tI,

Steve?”ThenSteve,standingup,answeredmeangrily,“No!Youweren’tdreaming,Charlie.Nomanofyour

intelligencedreamsupdrivinghistruckontotheflightlineinthemiddleofthenightlikeyoudid.”Stevestompedoff.Ashedidso,Inoticedthathehadtearsinhiseyes.Itappearedthatheknewmuch

morethanhewastellingme.Afewuneventfuldayspassed.Then,lateFridayevening,Iwashungryforsomeicecream.Itwasgoing

onmidnight.IhadbeenplayingpokerwithSteveandmyotherfriends.Beforegoingbacktomybarracks,Iwalked intoMojaveWellsandcontinueddownalong themainhighwayto the icecreamstandon thesoutheastendoftown.Inthosedays,MojaveWellswasatinylittletowninaverybigdesert.Itdidn’thaveanynightlife.Usually,theyrolledupthestreetswhenthesunwentdown.Theicecreamstandwaslocatedon thepoorly liteastedgeof townnext to themainhighwayundersome largeoldoak trees. Iarrivedatthestandjustasitwasclosing.Theattendantfilledmyorderforacolaandanicecreambar.Thentheattendantclosedthestand,turnedoffthelights,lockedup,andwenthome.Iwasn’tinanyhurry.Asaweatherobserver,Iwaslongsinceusedtobeingoutsidealoneatnight.Itookmycolaandmyicecreambartooneoftheoutdoortablesthatsathiddenbackintheshadowsunderthetrees.ThefewsidestreetsofMojaveWellsweredesertedandthetrafficthroughtownwasverylight.Iwastakingmytime,calmlyenjoyingmyicecreamonthiswarmsummernight.InthedistanceInoticedsomethingunusualacrossthemainhighwayontheotherendoftown.There,on

thesideofthehighwaywalkingslowlytowardsmeandjustreachingthewesternedgeofMojaveWells,were two thin, unusual, forms. Theywere only two blocks fromme, so I could see them clearly andplainly.Theystoodalittlelessthansixfeettallandhadaslightlyunusualmannerofwalking.TheyhadthesameappearanceasthecreaturesIhadseenbymybarracks.Theywerewalkingveryclosetogether,oneslightlybehindtheother,andwerelessthanThreefeetapart.Theywerelookingaroundagreatdealas theywalked. Theywere as similar in appearance as any two identical twins; yet, because of theiractions, I thought theymight be brother and sister.Despite the fact theywerewalking along themain

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highway through Mojave Wells, they appeared to be afraid that someone would see them. Feelingthreatened, I sat quietly, hidden by the shadows and the trees andwatched them carefully for at leasttwentyminutes.Severalcarspassedthemduringthattime.Inoticedthattheautomobileheadlightsdidnotilluminatetheirsuits.Rather, thesuitsappearedtogenerateafieldofsometypethatabsorbedthelightfromthecarsandgenerateddifferent lightof theirown.However, the twodidcastshadowsas thecarlightspassedthem.Thedriversoftwocarsappearedtopanicwhentheysawthem.ThecarsacceleratedrapidlythroughtownbeforedisappearingdownthehighwaytowardsPalmMeadows.Whentheywerelessthanablockfromme,Idecidedthatformyownsafety,Iwouldquietlyheadback

tobase.Icontinuedtostayhiddenbytheshadowsandtrees.Theplanworkedwellforashortdistance.However, when I was directly across the highway from them, they suddenly caught sight of me andreactedwith alarm.The highway and streets ofMojaveWellswere deserted at the time. Since Iwascertaintheyhadseenme,andIwasconcernedformyownsafety,Ihailedthemfromacrossthehighway.Iwasplanningtowarnthemtokeepawayfrommeandfrommybarracks.Tomysurprise,onceIhailedthem,theytookoffrunningawayfromme.Theyimmediatelyleftthemainhighwayandwentrunningupthearroyoandup thecanyon intoBigBearpasswhichoverlooksMojaveWells.DogscouldbeheardbarkingatthemastheyranpastsomehousesonthedistantedgeofMojaveWells.Withinafewminutes,theyhaddisappearedintothecanyon,thesagebrush,andintothemountainsthatseparatedMojaveWellsvalleyfromthenextvalleytothesouth.Onceagain,Iinstinctivelytimedthemastheyran.Theyranuphillformorethantwomilesastheyheadedintothepassatspeedsgreaterthan30milesperhour…fartoofastforahumantorun.ThistimeIhadgottenagoodclearlookatbothofthem.Carefully,Icrossedthehighwayandstudied

thebootprintsthattheyleftinthesandandinthesoftdirtalongthehighway.Comparingthedepthoftheboot prints with my own, I concluded they each weighed approximately 90 pounds.much less than atypicalhumanofthesameheight.Iwalkedslowlyandwarilybacktomybarracks.NothingaboutMojaveWellsseemedtobemakinganysenseatthetime.Afewnightslaterataboutmidnight,Iwaswalkingalonebacktomybarracksfromalatenightpoker

gamewithSteveandmyfriends.OnceagainIsawthesametwowhitecreaturescautiouslywalkingalongthemainhighway into town.This time Ihid in the shadowsofoneof the emptybarracksonbaseandwatchedthemfromadistance.Afterwalkingthroughtown,bywayofthemainhighway,theycautiouslyinspectedthesidestreetsandthehousesonthesouthendofMojaveWells.Theydisappearedatlastintothesagebrushalongthebaseofthemountainstothesouth.Onceagain,afterwatchingthemformorethantwentyminutes,Istillhadnoideawhattomakeofitall.Nothingunusualhappenedinthebarracksforafewmoredays.ThenoneafternoonwhenIreturnedto

mybarracks,Inoticedthatmycleanlaundryanduniformswereslightlyruffledandhadmovednoticeablywhile I had been out on the ranges. At first, I wasn’t alarmed because the military has so manyinspections.Then I noticedmy safety razor lyingon the floor. Iwas certain that I hadplaced it inmyshavingkitandlockeditinmyduffelbagbeforeleavingforthe4:30a.m.run.IwasalsocertainthatIhadtheonlysetofkeys.Acoupledayslater,intheafternoon,Iwasreadingabookinthebaselibrary.Curious,mymindturned

tothesagebrushincident.IwonderedifitwaspossiblethatthewhitecreatureswhichIhadseen,couldpossibly have been very athletic humans? The book I was reading stated that well trained Olympicathletesareabletoruntwiceasfastasordinaryhumans.Yet,runningamileinfourminutes,anOlympicrunneristravelingonly15milesanhour.Thismeantthatordinarypeoplecouldbeexpectedtorunoutinto the sagebrush at only 7 or 8miles an hour. Then there’s the fact that theOlympic record for thehundredyarddashisnotmorethan22milesperhour.Yet,Iwascertainofmycalculations.Thewhite

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malecreaturehadtraveledat35milesanhourformorethan25timesthatdistance.NowIreallybeganwondering,‘IfthewhitecreaturesI’dseenweren’thuman,whatwerethey?’Irecoiledinfearfromtheimplications.Iwasstill tryingtohappilylivealifeofdenial.IdecidedthatmytourofdutyatMojaveWellswouldbetolerableonlyifIcouldconvincemyselfthatthepeopleIhadseenwerehomelesspeoplewhohadwanderedinfromthenearbydesert,wishingonlytospendthenightinanemptybarracks.Theproblem,Idecided,wastheOlympicrecords.Ireviewedmycalculationscarefully.Therewasnowayaroundthemathematics.Thewhitemalehad

runintothesagebrushatleasttwoandahalftimesfasterthanthebestOlympicrunner.I wondered about those figures for many hours. I decided to resolve the confusion in my mind by

performinganexperiment.Idecidedtotimemyself,andseehowfastIcouldrun.Thenextmorningoutatrange three seemed likeaperfect time to testmyself. Itwasabeautiful summerday in thedesert.Therangesweredeserted.Alltheflightshadbeencanceledforseveraldays.MyOlympictrainingprogrambeganat10:00a.m.sharp.Carefully,Imeasuredoutadistanceof100yards.MyOlympictrainingcoursestartedatthefrontdoor

ofmyweathershackandstretchedinastraightlineslightlynorthwest,pastmytheodolitestandtowardstherangethreelounge.Itookadrinkofwaterandcheckedthesecondhandonmywatch.ThenItookoffrunningasfastasIcouldtowardthefinishline100yardsaway.Completingthefirstheat,Itriedasecondtime,thenathird.Tootiredforafourthheat,Iacceptedtheinevitable.Mybesttimewasmuchlessthan8milesanhour.Sure,Ihadbeenwearingmymilitaryboots,andmytimingwasn’tuptoOlympicstandards,buttheconclusioncouldn’tbeargued.Nohumancouldrun35milesanhourforadistanceofamileandahalf.Afterrestingforawhileinthecoolbreezeintheshadeofmyweathershack,mymindrefusedtoaccept

therealityofthisconclusion.Iwondered,maybeifItrainedasOlympicathletestrain,myspeedwouldimprove dramatically. Maybe if I practiced running, jumping, and throwing rocks, my running speedwouldimprovetoOlympicstandards.Myintentionsweredeadlyserious.Yet,inalmostcomicalfashion,I carefullymarkedout a broad jump area and a stone throwing area, northeast ofmy theodolite stand.ThenIbeganmyOlympictrainingprogram.Idecidedtoconcentrateonthebroadjumpfirst.Isupposedthat if I could dramatically improve my broad jumping figures, then my running speeds would alsoimprovedramatically.IdecidedthatifIcouldeverrunat15milesperhourinmyheavymilitaryuniform,Iwouldconcludethatthewhitecreatureshadbeenordinaryhumanswhohadunintentionallygivenmeagood scare. It wasmore than a passing consideration forme. I did, after all, fall asleep alone in anunlockedbarracks,ontheedgeofagreatbigdesert,nightafternightandwakeupinthedark,hopingtostillbealone,morningaftermorning.Forthenextfewdays,Itrainedwithawill.ItsoonbecameapparentthatthemoreItrained,theslower

Igot.OnedayIpracticedthebroadjumpmorethantwentytimes.EachtimeIstartedbythefrontdoorofmyweathershack,andtookoffrunningasfastasIcould.WhenIreachedmybroadjumpline,IjumpedasfarasIcould.Itwasseldomthatmydistances,jumpingasIwasonthehardgravelsurface,measuredasmuchasfivefeet.Soonmyrunningtimeforthe100-yarddashwasdowntoamere5milesperhour,andmydistancewasdowntolessthan3feet,littlemorethanmysteppingdistance.OnWednesdayofthefollowingweek,Idecidedtotryanotherattemptatthebroadjump.Asusual,it

wasanotherbeautifulsummermorningintheMojaveWellsvalley.Thebluedomeoftheskycontaineditsusualdecorativecirrusclouds.Consideringtheconditions,Iwasusingmyusualredballoons.Ihadjustcompleted the 9:30 a.m. balloon run. The ranges were closed to everyone except me. Therefore, therangeswereotherwisedeserted.AsusualIhadleftmytruckparkedoverinfrontofthegeneratorshack.Sincetherangeratshadbeenorderedtostayonbase,itseemedlikeagoodtimetotrain.Iknewthatif

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Ifailedorlookedsilly,therewasnoonewhocouldpossiblyseemeormakefunofme.AsusualIstartedbythefrontdoorofmyweathershack.ThenItookoffrunningtowardsmybroadjumptrainingareajustnortheastofmytheodolite.Mylegmuscleswerestillsorefromthepreviousday’sattempts.AsIstartedthejump,Islippedonthehardgravelsurface,lostmybalanceinmid-air,andcamedownsquarelyonmyleft kneecap. The hard graveled surface cut easily through my green fatigues and through my skinunderneath.BythetimeIhadfinishedslidingtoastoponthehardgravel,myleftlegfrommykneedownwascut,

banged, bleeding, and swelling fast.My left handwas cut and damaged.Numbness and swellingwasspreadingrapidlyfrommyleftwristdownthroughmyfingers.Ispentthenextfewminutesvomitinginpainandscreaminginagonyfromitall.OnlytheknowledgethatIwasalone,some22milesoutinthedesert,gavemethestrengthtoendurethepainofrollingoverontomybackandsittingupinthegravelandthorns.AtfirstIwasconvincedthatmyleftlegwasbrokeninseveralplaces,alongwithmyleftknee,myleftwrist,andmaybeafewbonesinmyribsandfeet.Isatthereforalmostahalfhourscreaminginagonyandpainandswearingatmyownstupidity.AloneasIwas,therewasnoonetohearme,soIdidn’tholdbackmyscreamsandswearing.Finally,thefeelingbegantoslowlycreepbacktomyswollenleftwristandhand.Slowlyandpainfully

Ipickedthethornsandgraveloutofmyleftwrist,mylefthand,andmyleftleg.Inextremepain,Iusedmyhandkerchieftostopthebleedingfrommyfleshwounds.ThenIusedsomedirt,asbestIcould,tocleanmybloodandvomitoffmytornuniform.Spittingonmyfingersandonmywounds,Ipressedclosetheminorcutsonmy leftwrist,my lefthand,my leftknee,andmy left leg.Then Icalmeddownasbest Icouldandassessedmydesperatesituation. Ihadsatupfacingeastmerelybecause thatwashowIhadfallen.ThepainIfeltwasfartoogreattoallowmetostanduportowalk.Yet,IknewthatIwoulddiewhereIlay,ifIcouldn’tgetmyselfbacktomyweathershackandphoneforhelp.Ibeganby inspectingmyleftwrist. Itwasswellingfast.Bynowithad turnedcompletelyblackand

blue.Icarefullyinspectedeachofthebonesinmyleftwristandhand.Icarefullycomparedthemtothecorrespondingbonesinmyrightwristandhand.Sincetheyallmatched,Idecidedthatnoneofmywristorhandboneswerebroken.SoIbeganslowlyexercisingmyleftwristandhand.Iknewthattogetoutofthis situation, I was going to need the use of my left hand, so I ignored the extreme pain and keptexercisingit.SometimesIwasswearinginangerandagonyasIdidso.Theexercisehelpedgreatlyandsoonmyleftwristwasfeelingfarbetter.ThenIturnedmyattentiontomyribs,myleftknee,leftankle,andleftfoot.GratefullyIconcludedthat

all of the bones, muscles and ligaments in my ribs, left ankle, and left foot were badly bruised, butprobably not broken.By now they too,were swollen black and blue.My left kneewas also, swollenblackandblueandwasfartoopainfultoinspect.Inaddition,thepainwasrapidlygettingworseastheshockoftheaccidentwaswearingoff.IknewthatIwasgoingtohavetogetbacktomyweathershackatanyprice.Tryinghardtoignorethe

intensepain,IsatupstraightanddraggedmyselfbackwardsthetwentyfeetorsoacrossthehardgraveluntilIgotbacktomytheodolitestand.IwasexhaustedandthirstybythetimeIgotthere,butallofmydrinkingwaterwasinmyweathershackandtruck.ThehotdesertsunandmyheavythirstconvincedmethatifIdidn’tgetbacktomyweathershacksoon,Iwouldn’tbemuchlongerforthisworld.Someoftheexposedstonesandpartsofthesteeltheodolitestandwerealreadybecomingpainfullyhottothetouch.Still,Ineededtorestandletthepaininmyleftkneesubsidebeforemakinganymoremoves.I positioned myself so that I was sitting with my back leaning against the theodolite stand, facing

slightlynortheast.Itwasasteelstandsetinheavyconcrete.Itcouldeasilyhavesupportedseveraltons.IwassittingthereprayingforGod’shelpwhenIfirstnoticedsomethingoutofplaceoutinthedesert.It

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wassomethingwhite,hidingbehindthesagebrushoutalongtheroadtowardstheammunitionbunker.“Oh,NO!”Iexclaimedtomyself.Itwasaboutahalfamileawayatthetime.AllIcouldseewasthe

tophalfofitsheadfromitseyesup.Itwaspeeringatmefrombehindthedistantplantthatconcealedit.Itstood up momentarily, reaching a height of at least 6 feet, and ran to the next closer plant. It washumanoid,chalkwhite,andveryslim.Itcovered thedistancebyrunningatalmost30milesanhour. ItwasnowpainfullyobviousthatIwasinveryserioustrouble.StillfurtherinthedistanceIcouldseealargewhiteobjectsittingonthedesertfloor.Thewhiteobject

was at least the size of a large two-car garage. It was sitting at the base of the mountains by theammunitionbunker,northeastofme.Slowly,carefully,deliberately,thewhitecreaturebeganclosingthedistancebetweenus.Itcontinuedtohidebehindtheplants,andpeeratmefromovertheirtops.Withinamatterofafewminutes,ithadclosedfromthreequartersofamiletolessthan500feetfromme.Onlyahand-fullofhealthyplantsseparateditfromme.Peeringatitthroughthehotsummerhaze,thedesertheatwaves,thedirt,thesweat,andthebloodrunningintomyeyes,Istillcouldn’ttellexactlywhatitwas,butit’spresenceterrifiedme.Mysillyjumpinghadturnedthispleasantcarefreemorningintoalifeordeathstrugglewiththeunknown.SittingonthegroundasIwas,Iwouldbetotallyunabletodefendmyselfifthewhitecreaturechoseto

closethedistancebetweenus.IrealizedthatifImadethemistakeofpanicking,mylastslimchanceforsurvivalwouldevaporate.Havingnootherchoiceandbelievingthatmyswollenleftkneewasbroken;Istuffedseverallargestonesintomypockets,grabbedontomystand,anddesperatelypulledmyselftoastandingposition.ThepainwassoexcruciatingthatIbecamedizzyforseveralminutes.However,Iusedmyuninjuredrightlegtosupportmyself,andclunggrimlytotheburninghotstanduntilmymindcleared.Throughitall,thepaincausedmetoscreamandshoutandtocursethefatethathadbroughtmehere.Inthedistance,Icouldhearthephoneinmyweathershack.Itrangmanytimesbeforefinallyfallingsilent.Whenmymind finally cleared and the pain subsided a little, I could see that once again thewhite

creaturehadclosedthedistancebetweenus.Itremainedstationarynow,hidingbehindthelastclumpofsagebrush,some300feetaway,whichseparated the twoofus. Idecided toshoutat it. Ineeded todosomethingtocontroltheterrorthatwassurgingwithinme.Takingadeepbreath,Ishoutedangrilyoutintothedesert,“You’renotgoingtosurpriseme.Iseeyou

outthere.I’mhealthierthanIlook,youknow!”Tomysurprise,thewhitecreaturevisiblyflinched.Thenitsuddenlyfellbackahundredfeetorsoalongthebunkerroad.Icouldhardlybelievemyeyes.Inthedistancedownbytheammunitionbunker,Icouldseeasecondwhitecreatureadvancingslowly,

sagebrush to sagebrush, along the same road as the first creature had done. Through breaks in thesagebrush,Icouldseethatitcarriedawhiteobjectaboutthesizeofadoctor’smedicalbag.AsIwatchedinterrorandamazement,Inoticedthatthelargewhitegaragesizedobjecthaddrifteddiagonallycloser.Nowitstoodnomorethanamileoutinthedesert.Slowlyitclosedthedistancebetweenitselfandtheammunition bunker, all in perfect silence. Imomentarily forgot aboutmy injuries andwonderedwhatcouldpossiblybegoingon?AsIwatched,athirdwhitecreatureappearedfromhidingbehindthesagebrushdownatthefarendof

thebunkerroad.Thenittoostartedslowlyadvancing.Itadvancedmoreslowlythantheothertwoalongtheroadtowardsthefirsttwo.Onceagainthephoneinmyweathershackbeganringing.Onceagainaftermanyrings,itfellsilent.Istoodtransfixedforafewminutesbythesceneunfoldingdownalongthebunkerroad.AsIwatched,

thefirstwhitecreaturequicklyfellbackalongthebunkerroadtoasagebrushcoveredridgeahalfmileback, watchingme all the time. The secondwhite creature waited there tomeet him. Then they bothwaitedbehindthesagebrushontheridgewhile thethirdwhitecreatureslowlyadvancedtomeet them.

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Whenthethirdwhitecreaturefinallyarrivedattheridge,itwashandedthesmallmedical-likebagbythesecondcreature.Thenthefirstcreaturefellbackquicklyalongtheroadtowardsthewhitegaragesizedobject,whichnowsatonthedesertfloorneartheammunitionbunker.Thesecondwhitecreature remainedstationary,peeringatmefrombehind thebrushon thehalf-mile

ridgealongthebunkerroad.Heappearedtoreactnowandthentoordersgivenhimbythewhitenurse-likecreature,convincingmethatshemustbeofveryhighrank.Afterafewminutesthethirdwhitecreature,carryingthewhitebag,begantoadvancetowardsme.It

wasadvancingmuchslowerthantheothertwohad.However,itwasadvancingwithsuchsteadinessandsuchobviousdeterminationthatIwasnowcertainitintendedtocontinueadvancing,untilithadbrokenoutfromthesagebrushandconfrontedmecloseup.Onceagain,terrorstartedwellingupinsideme.BelievingnowthatIunderstoodhowmenfeel,menwhoareforcedtofightdesperatebattlesandface

theunknownalone, Igrimlyassessedmysituation. Ihad togetback tomyweathershackatanyprice.Unabletocrawlorwalk,Iwasgoingtohavetohopthedistanceonmyrightleg.Therewassimplynootherway. I took a deep breath, bravely let go of themetal stand, and began hopping onmy right legtowardsmyweathershacksome50feetdistant.Itwasn’tmuchofaplan.Afteronlythreehops,Ilostmybalanceandbeganfallingtowardstheconcretehardgravel.Withoutthinking,Iusedmyleftlegtocatchmyweightandregainmybalance.Thepainthatshotthroughmyleftkneeasmyleftlegtooktheweightofmybodycan’tbedescribed. Instinctively I turnedback towards thesafetyof thestand. Ihoppedsomemoreandonceagainwasforcedtousemyleftlegtocatchmyselfbeforefinallyreachingthesafetyofthestand.Grimly Ihungon to the standandwaited for thedizzinessandpain to subside. I couldhear thephoneinmyweathershackringagainanothereightortentimes.After a fewminutesmymind cleared and once again I took stock ofmy situation. The third white

creaturehadpausedandwasnowwatchingmefromsome500feetdistant.IbegancheckingmyleftkneetoseehowmuchdamageIhadcausedbyhopping.Tomyimmensesurprise,myleftkneenowfeltbetterthan it had before. As I carefully tested the four muscles around my kneecap, the conclusion wasinescapable.Ihadaterriblebruise,especiallyunderthekneecap,butmykneewasn’tbroken.Noneofmyknee ligaments seemed torn or damaged. My knee easily took the weight of my body and was nowbeginningtoimproverapidly.CarefullyIbeganplacingmyfullweightonmyleftlegandknee.Ithurt,butthemoreIpresseddownonmyknee,thebetteritfelt.Icouldhardlybelievemygoodfortune.Iwaitedforafewminutesforthepaininmyleftkneetosubsidefrommylastweighttest.Idecidedthat

Ishouldstayactive,tocontroltheterrorwithinme.Igrabbedholdofthemetalcoverforthetheodolitethatsatonthegroundbythebaseofthestand.Liftingitcarefully,Iplaceditinitsnormalpositionoverthetheodolite.ThenIclosedthecoverandlockedit,accidentallypinchingmyfingerwhenIdidso.OnceagainIfoundmyselfshakingmytenderlefthandinpain.AsIdidso,Inoticedthatthethirdwhitecreatureresumeditsslowandsteadyadvancetowardsme.Nowithadclosedtothelastclumpofsagebrushonly300feetdistant. InstinctivelyIsteppedout fromthe theodolitestandandpretended toplacemyweightequallyonbothfeet.Hopingtoscareitoff,Ishoutedangrily,“I’mreadyforyou.I’mnotinjuredlikeyouthink. I’llputupagoodbattle.Don’tcomeanycloserbecause I’mgettinghealthierby theminute. I’lldefendmyselftothedeath.I’llgotomyGodlikeasoldier.”Thiswhitecreaturedidn’tflinchorreact.Itjuststayedthere,carefullywatchingmyeverymove.Itwas

obvioustomethatitwasplanningtobreakoutofthesagebrushandcloseonme.Iwasterrifiedbytheprospectofhavingtoconfrontitaloneandoutintheopen.Thepainhadsubsidedinmyleftknee.Itookadeepbreath of air.Once again I tookoff hopping and limping towardsmyweather shack.Themore Iexercisedmyleftknee,thebetteritgot.BythetimeIreachedthefrontdoorofmyweathershackIwaswalkingwithonlyaheavylimp.Iexpectedthewhitecreaturetoberightbehindme.WhenIreachedthe

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frontdoor tomyshack, I immediately swiveled,placedmyback to theouter shackwall and turned tomeetmyexpectedattacker.Iexpectedtofindthewhitecreatureoutintheopen,closingonmefast,butwhen I turned Iwas greeted only by the gentle laughter of the desertwinds.After severalminutes ofsearching,Ifinallylocatedthethirdwhitecreature.Ithadfallenbackmorethanaquartermilealongthebunkerroad.Hardlybelievingmyeyes,Istoodthereforafewminutescatchingmybreathandstudyingthesituation.Icheckedmywatch.Theentireordealhadtakenmorethantwohours.CarefullyIclimbedintomyweathershackandclosedthesidedoorforsafety.ThenIgotholdofthe

gallonjarofdrinkingwaterthatIhadbroughtwithmeandbegandrinking.Iplacedmyphoneonthefloorbymeandsatdowninthefrontdoorway.Iusedalittleofthewatertocleanseveralofthedeepercutsonmyleftlegandarm.ThenIspitonmydeeperwounds,andonebyone,Icarefullypressedthemclosedsothattheywouldhealproperly.Irestedforalittlewhilemore,rehearsinginmymindthewordsIwouldsaytoDesertCenter.ItwasnowcleartomethatIcouldeasilymakeitovertomyparkedtruckanddrivemyselfintoMojaveWells,soIwouldn’tneedtoberescued.Usually,Ienjoyedmydutyontheranges.Iwasreluctanttogiveuptheextrapayandindependencethatcamewithit.AllIwouldreallyhavetotellDesertCenterwasthatIwascancelingthewindsfortherestoftheweek.IcouldjustsaythatIhadtheflu.Outalongthebunkerroad,thethirdwhitecreaturehadfallenbacktothehalf-mileridgeandappearedtobegivingorderstothesecond.Thenthesecondfellbacktowardsthewhitegaragesizedobject thatwasparkedbytheammunitionbunker.Thefirstwhitecreaturewasnowheretobeseen.Aftermykneehadrestedforafewminutes,IdecidedthatIwouldcallDesertCenterandtellthemmy

flustory,andheadintoMojaveWells.Thefluseemedlikeagoodenoughexcusenowthatmyleftkneewashealingsorapidly.Iwasdrinkingsomemorewaterandgettingreadytodialwhenthephonerang.“Rangethree,Charlie,”Ianswered.“Charlie,You’realive!”exclaimedmyfriendDwight,ontheotherendoftheline.Takenoffguard,Iresponded,“Whywouldn’tIbe?”“TheDesertCenterbasecommanderhascalledthestationhere,atleastthreetimesinthelastcouple

hours,Charlie.He’sbeennearbesidehimselfwithanxiety.HesaidthatsomewomanupinMojaveWellsreportedthatyouwereinserioustroubleupthere.Shesaidyou’dbrokenyourleftleg,andcouldn’tgetback to yourweather shack to phone us for help. She said youwere lying injured in a pile of thorns,screaminginagony.Shemadeitsoundlikeyouwereoutofwateranddyingorsomething.”Caughtwithmyguarddown, I responded showing surprise, “I don’t understandwhat you’re saying,

Dwight.SomewomaninMojaveWellsphonedthetwostargeneralcommandingDesertCenterjusttotellhimthatIhadbruisedmykneeoutinthedesert?”“Well, yes,” respondedDwight, obviouslygivinghis answer some thought. “That’swhat thegeneral

said.Ispoketohimmyselfonthephone.Hedidn’tactuallysaythatshe’dphonedhimthough.Hemadeitsoundasifshe’dphonedthePentagon,andthey’dphonedhim.Rightnow,theentireDesertCenterbasehospital is on emergency statuswaiting to rush you in for knee surgery. They’rewaiting for the basecommandertoallowthetworescuechopperstotakeoffandcomegetyou.YourfriendPayneispackinghisthingsoverinthebarracksandgettingreadytoreplaceyou.ThefirstSergeantisplanningonbringinghim up to Steve’s barracks at MojaveWells as soon as it’s dark. But if you’re healthy, I’ll call thebarracks and tell Payne to forget it.He didn’twant to go up there anyway.Youknowhow the rangesfrightenhim.”“Idon’tunderstand,”Icontinued.“Sure,Ifellandbruisedmyknee,butitsmuchbetternow.SureIwas

lyingoutinapatchofthornsandsagebrushoutinthedesertforalongtimescreamingthatmykneewasbroken.ButyouknowI’mmorethan22milesoutinthedesert.YouknowthatwhenI’mouthere,nooneintowncouldeverpossiblyseeme.Idon’tknowanywomenuphere.Whatwomancouldpossiblyhave

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seenmebruisemykneeandphonethePentagon?”Mygazewanderednaturallyout into thedesert.Outthere, along the bunker road at half-mile ridge, the third white creature remained posted behind thesagebrush,watchingmyeverymove.Dwightcontinued,“As Iunderstand it, shecalledsome four stargeneral in thePentagon inD.C.He

phoned theDesertCenterbasecommander. Iguess shegothimoutofaNationalSecuritymeetingandeverything.Accordingtothegeneral,youhavemorefriendsthanyourealize,Charlie.“YouknowJackson,thatweatherobserverItoldyouaboutwhoclaimedhehadspokeninpersonwith

RangeFourHarry?Well,youknow,afewyearsagowhenIwastalkingtoJackson,heclaimedthatonetimehegotalittledrunkandstumbledaroundoutatrangefourforafewhoursinthedaytime.HeclaimedthatoldRangeFourHarrycameinoutofthedesertinbroaddaylightandeverythingandstoodaroundandtalkedtohim,justtomakesurethathewasOK.Hasanythinglikethateverhappenedtoyou?”Defensively,Ianswered,“YouknowI’mnotmuchofadrinkingman.Ineverdrinkanythingalcoholic

whenI’mouthereorwhenI’mgoingtobedrivingoranything.ButonemorningwhenIhadtheflurealbadandIwastoosicktowalk,somethinglikethathappenedtomedownbytherangethreegate.I’lltellyouaboutitthenexttimewegettogether.”Dwightlaughed,“I’lltakeyouuponthatone,Charlie.YouknowJacksonalwaysclaimedthathewas

the only alcoholicwhose hallucinations could rescue him if he ever got in trouble. I’m sure glad thatwomanwaswrongaboutyoubreakingyourleg.”Outalongthebunkerroad,thewhitecreaturecontinuedtowatchmefromhalf-mileridge.Inoticedthat

sheappearedtoflinchandbecameveryagitatedwhenDwightsaidthatthewomanhadbeenwrongaboutmybrokenleg.Iwonderedwhatitallmeant.IwonderedifshecouldtellwhatDwightwassayingtome.Afterall,itwasmyprivatetelephoneline,wasn’tit?“Right,Dwight.”Iresponded.“Butwhoevershewas,shewasn’tverywrong.Well,Ihavetolockup

nowandgetbackintomybarrackstonursethisbruisedknee.”“Yousureyoudon’tneedknee surgeryor somex-raysor stitchesor something?”Dwightcontinued.

“YouknowtheentireDesertCenterbasehospitaliswaitingforyou!YouknowthePentagonhasorderedthebasehospitaltomovetoemergencystatusjusttogetyoubackintoworkingorder!Youknowthebasecommanderisworriedaboutyourmedicalstatus.Shouldn’tyouatleastlettherescuechoppercomepickyouuponceyougetback intobaseandbringyoudownhere forx-rays?According to thegeneral, thechopperwouldeventakeyoubackupthereoncethedoctorssaidyou’reOK.”“Nothanks,Dwight,”Irepliednonchalantly.“Tellthegeneralnoneofthatisnecessary.I’llbegoodas

new by morning. Tell the base commander thanks, but I’m fine. I don’t need to be wasting the basehospital’stimewiththeseminorbruises.”“Well, ifyousayso,Charlie,”statedDwight,obviouslynotconvincedthatmyinjuriesdidn’tneeda

doctor’sattention.“Ibetterhangupnowandspreadthewordthatyou’realiveandwell.BothPayneandthebasecommanderwillbegladtohearit.”Ihungupthephone,lockedupmyshack,limpedovertothegeneratorshack,andshutdownthediesel.

ThenIlimpedtomytruck,climbedinandstartedtheengine.Thetruckwasmanualshift.Shiftinggearswithmyleftkneebruisedwasquiteawkward.SoItookmytimeanddroveslowlybackintobase.IwassurprisedtofindthegatetorangethreewasopenwhenIgotthere.IwascertainthatIhadcloseditinthemorningwhenIlastcamethroughit.AtthetimeIwasactuallyquitegladitwasopen.Gettinginandoutofmytrucktoopenit,haditbeenclosed,wouldhavebeenapainfuloperationbecauseofmyknee.Once Igotback tomybarracks, I spent the remainderof thedaynursingmybruises, takingawarm

shower,puttingsomerubbingalcoholonmycuts, restingmyknee,andsleeping inmybunk.Theday’seventshadleftmeexhausted.Itwasgoingon6.00p.m.whenIfinallyawoke.Ihurrieduptothechow

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hall for the eveningmeal, still limpingnoticeably,veryhungry fromhavingmissed thenoonmeal.MyfriendSmokeymetmeatthedoor.Teasing,hegreetedme,“Charlie,you’resolatethatwe’realloutoftheregularfood.Butdon’tworry.Justforyou,wehavesugarsandwichesandbarbecuedsquirrel.”Iwaslaughingalmosttoohardtogetmycoffee.Thenturningserious,hecontinued,“Youknow,Charlie,eventhoughtherangesareclosed,theremustbesomethingveryspecialgoingonouttheretomorrow.”“Whydoyousaythat,Smokey?”Iaskedthoughtfully.“TheDesertCenterbasecommanderhimselfcalledupthechowhallhere.Hecalledthreetimesinthe

lasthourtryingtoreachyou.Iguessyouweresleepingtoosoundlytohearyourbarracksphone.Theairpolicemanisonhisdayoff,sothegeneralmademeswearthatIwouldpersonallydeliverhisorderstoyou,underpainofcourtmartial.”Onceagain,offbalanceandnervousbecauseofmyunnecessarybruises, I askeddefensively, “What

wouldhewantwithme?”Smokeyansweredslowlyanddeliberately,“Hewantedtomakecertainthatyoureceivedtheballoon

schedulefortomorrow.”“Whatisit?”Iaskednaively.“TheDesertCentercommandpostneedsexactlyoneballoonruntomorrow.Thenyou’llbegivenfree

medical leave for the restof tomorrowandalldayFriday,Saturday, andSunday.Thatwill allowyouplentyoftimetospendtheweekendhavingfunandrestingupinLosAngeles.Thefirstballoonrunofnextweek won’t be until 10:00 a.m. OnMonday, you will be able to have a nice breakfast and make aleisurely drive out to the ranges,” Smokey responded carefully. “However, the Desert Center basecommandermade itcrystalclear thatyouareordered to take the4:30a.m.run tomorrow,andonly the4:30 a.m. run, at any price. I’m ordered to phone theDesert Center command post as soon as I havedeliveredhisorders.”Nervous, I responded,“Did it seemlikehewasangrywithme?Orout todisciplinemefor injuring

myself?”“He’sageneral,”answeredSmokey.“Whocantellhowgeneralsthink.Hewasemphaticthatnoone

but you is allowedout on the ranges for the rest of theweek.”Then, after pausing,Smokey continuedseriously,“Whateverisoutthere,Charlie,You’regoingtohavetofaceitalone.”Tryingtoregainmycomposure,Ishrugged,“That’snoproblem.Allthat’souttherearejackrabbitsand

coyotes.theguybeforememusthavebarbecuedupallthesquirrels.”ThenItriedtolaughsome.“Ihopeso,Charlie.Foryoursake,Ihopeso.Justthesame,Iwishyouwouldletmeoroneoftherange

ratslikeSteveorDouggoouttherewithyou.You’llneedsomeoneouttheretowatchyourbackwhileyou’reworking.You’llneedsomeonetoprotectyou.Wecouldhideinthetruckorbehindthebuildingsoroutinthesagebrush.Noonewouldeverhavetoknowthatwedisobeyedthegeneral’sorders.”“That’sniceofyouSmokey.” I answered sincerely. “But I’mnot in anydangerwhen Igoout there.

There’sno reason foryouguys to risk court-martial just forme.Don’tworry, I’ll beperfectlyOKbymyself,justasIalwaysam.”ButSmokeywasnottobeputoffsoeasily.Hecontinuedprobing.“Seriously,Charlie,whenyou’reout

there,doyoueverseeanysignofthosepeoplethatWaynesaysliveupinthosemountainsnortheastofhere?”“YoumeanthatstoryWaynetellsofseeingchalkwhitepeoplewithhieroglyphicsandwritinglikethe

ancientEgyptians?TheonesheswearsaredugintothosemountainswayupatthenorthendofMojaveWellsvalley?”Iresponded.“Yes,”answeredSmokey.“Iknowit’smorethan100milesupthere,butyouknowhowWaynealways

swearsthatRangeFourHarryisoneofthosepeople,andthathespeaksperfectEnglish.”

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“No,”Icasuallyresponded.“I’veneverseenmuchofanythingupinthosemountains.I’veneverbeenabletoacceptWayne’sstory,anyway.”Denyingreality,eventomyself,camesoeasy.SmokeycouldseethatIwasobviouslylyingtomyself.Hepersevered.“Howaboutthatfamilyoflost

pioneers that Doug says lives up in those same mountains?” He asked intently. “You know how hebelievesthatbackinthe1800’sapioneerfamilygotlostupinthosemountainsandcouldnevergetout.Youknowhowhebelieves that incest and in-breeding set in, and theirdescendants still liveup there,today,superintelligentandallchalkwhiteandmutated.”“No,”Ismoothlyresponded.ThepleasantsmileonSmokey’sfaceprovedhecouldseerightthroughmy

obviousself-deception.“Well, you’ll be in good company if you ever do see anything unusual out there, Charlie,” Smokey

stated sincerely. “All thoseotherweatherobserversdid.What they sawused to scare thedeviloutofthem. Sooner or later, every one of them showed up here begging for sympathywith their coffee andsandwiches.That’swhyyou’retheonlyonewho’llevergooutthereanymore.”Myknee started to acheagain. I saidgoodnight toSmokey, and returned tomybarracks for awarm

showerandagoodnight’ssleep.Thenextdaybegansimplyenough.Nothingunusualhadhappenedinmybarracksduringthenightand

I’d slept quitewell. I had also gotten exceptionally good at denying the reality of the previous day’sevents.Thedesert,thissummernight,waswearingitsusualcathedral-likebeauty.Warmgentlenighttimebreezes greetedme as Iwalked, sang, and limped slowly across the barracks parking lot towardsmyweathertruck.Itwas3:05a.m.onmywatch.Sincethegeneralhadorderedthatthe4:30balloonrunbetaken,Iwantedtobepunctual.Generalsaren’tusuallyverygoodatacceptingexcuses.It was a beautiful drive out to range three. There was nothing unusual about the drive but I drove

cautiously just the same.When I passed through the range threegate, I carefully stoppedmy truck andclosed the gate behindme. Iwas following the range procedures to the letter because Iwas afraid ofupsettingthegeneralanyfurther.Ivisuallycheckedeverynookandcrannyinthevalleybeforegettingbackintomytruck.AsIdrove,I

continuedtocarefullycheckeverydistantcanyonandridgewhereIhadeverseenlights,otherobjects,oreven jackrabbits.On thismorning, therewas simply nothing out of the ordinary.Consequently, I soonrelaxed,assumedaboyishtypeattitudeabouteverythingandpassedthetimesingingtomyselfasIdrove.Iwonderedwhy theDesertCenterbasecommanderhadbeen so insistent about thismorning’swind

measurements.Itcertainlywasn’tlikehim.Afterall,Inotedtomyself,hewasn’tevenpartofmynormalweatherservicechainofcommand.Aftergivingthemattersomethought,Idecidedthathewasprobablyupsetovermysilly“Olympictrainingaccident”.Iguessedthathehadprobablydecidedtocomedownhard on me for a few days. Privately, I agreed with him. A little more military discipline certainlywouldn’thurtmeany.Idecidedtowaitaweekorsoandletmykneehealup,beforetakingmytruckonanotherjoyrideupthevalleyorovertotheammunitionbunker.Soonthebuildingsofrangethreecouldbeseensparklinginthemoonlightupahead.Iapproachedthe

buildingswithextracaution,but therewasnothingunusual tobeseen.TheentireMojaveWellsValleywassimplydeserted.I letmy truck roll to a stopon thewest side of the generator shack. I got out to start themorning’s

activities,singingasIwent.Mykneewasstill tenderbutIwasnowwalkingwithonlyaslightlimp.Iwasquiteproudofmyself,really,forhaving‘walkedoffsuchapainfulbruise.BythetimeIgotthedieselgeneratorstarted,Iwaswellonmywaytohavingawonderfulmorning.Ileftmytruckparkedparalleltothegeneratorshackfacingnorth,justoppositethesecondsetofdouble

doors that remained closed. The generator shack held two huge diesel engines. This morning, for no

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particular reason I had started the southern diesel. Therefore, I had opened the southern set of doubledoors, theset in frontof thediesel that Ihadstarted.Without theslightestbitofapprehension, Ieasilywalkedtheremainingdistancetomyweathershack.Iwasveryearly,soIwassurprisedtofindmyphonestartringingasIunlockedthefrontdoor.“EitherDesertCenterisawfullyimpatientforthewinds,orthatbasecommandinggeneral isdeterminedtoburnme,”IsaidtomyselfasIansweredthephone.“Rangethreeweathershack,Charliespeaking.”ThevoiceontheotherendwasmyfriendPayne.“Charlie,I’mgladyou’rethere,”Heexclaimed.“Ijust

reassured the Desert Center base commander that you were out there, wide awake, and on duty thismorning.AfterIgothimoffthephone,IthoughtI’dbettermakesure.Don’tworry,Charlie,ifyou’dbeensleepinginthebarracksorsomething,I’dhavecoveredforyou.I’dhaveevenmadeupthewinds,”helaughed.“YouknowI’mgoodatit.”Laughing, I responded, “Thanks, Payne. I really appreciate it. But it surprises me that the General

wouldbeupthisearly,justtomakecertainthatI’mreleasingaballooninthedesert.Makesyouwonderwhattherestoftheofficersaredoingwiththeirtime,doesn’tit?”“Itsuredoes,Charlie,”respondedPayne.“Butthisplaceissoscrewedupthatitdoesn’tsurpriseme.

Whatdoessurpriseme,Charlie,iswhereyougetthegutstodriveouttherealoneeverymorningasyoudo.Isureneverwould.ManwhenI’mupthere,ifIdon’thavearangeratorsomeonetogoouttherewithme, I justmakeup thosewindsandphone them inusing thechowhallphone. Iwouldneverdreamofgoingoutthereatnightasyoudo.Thatstretchofdesertisjusttooscarytosuitme.”“Well,youcertainlyhavemorecommonsensethanIdoPayne,”Ilaughed,“orI’dbesittingdowninthe

MojaveWellschowhallmakingupthelowlevelwindsrightnowtoo.”Goodfriendsthatwewere,webothlaughedforafewminutes.ThenIcontinued,“Well,I’dbetterletyougoandgetthisballoonintheairorthatgeneralwillhavemeforsure.”“Right,”respondedPayne.Thenhecontinued,“Thatgeneralhadsomethingelsehewasrealworried

abouttoo,Charlie.”“Really,whatwasit?”Iaskedinsurprise.“Hewantedtomakecertainthatyoushutdownthedieselsbeforeyouleavetherangesthismorning,”

Paynestatedinamatteroffactmanner.Flabbergasted, I responded, “But you know I always shut everything down and lock everything up

beforeIleave.YouknowI’vealwaysbeenverygoodaboutthat.What’shegoingonaboutthatfor?”“I don’t know, Charlie.” Payne answered sympathetically. “But he sure loves that generator this

morning,sobesurenottoforgetitwhenyougobackintobase.”“Ifhecallsagain,besuretotellhimthatIhaveeverythingcovered,”Irepliedsubmissively.“Andtell

himI’llbemorecarefulaboutmykneeinthefuture.”“Right,Charlie.Goodluck,”saidPayneashesignedoff.Angry and frustrated, I hungup thephone. “That general hasno reason tobe ridingme sohard just

because I slippedon thegravel andbangedupmyknee,” Imuttered angrily tomyself. “If that healthyhigh-rankinggeneralwasn’tsomilitary,this’dbeprettygoodduty,”IexclaimedasIassembledmyheliumgaugesandfilledtheballoon.Ready now for the balloon release, I turned onmy radio, tuned it to a local PalmMeadows radio

station,andverifiedthetimeonmywatch.Idecidedtoperformonelastsecuritycheck.Isteppedoutsideintothewarmmoonlitsummernight.Ivisuallycheckedthevalleyagain, theammunitionbunkeranditsroad,themountainstothenorthandtothenortheast,theentrancetoasmallsidecanyononthewestsidesomefortymilesnorthofme,andtheshadowsbehindtherangethreelounge.Therewassimplynothingoutofplace.Thestarlitcathedral-likevalleycouldhardlyhavebeenmorecaptivating,ormoredeserted.

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Thedesertsilencewasbrokenonlybythemusicfrommyradio.Theballoonrunwentsmoothlyandflawlessly,soithappenedthatby4:50a.m.IwasphoningDesert

Centerwiththeresults.Payneremindedmethatthiswasthelastrunfortheday,andthatthegeneralhadphonedasecondtimetoguaranteethatthedieselwouldbeshutdownproperly.Hefinishedcopyingtheresults.ThenheinformedmethattheDesertCenterforecaster,mastersergeantAdamshadjustreceivedanotherphonecallfromthegeneral.Hewasrelayingthewindstohimaswespoke.IthankedmyfriendPayneandhungupthephone.Inotedthatitwasnow4:55a.m.Satisfiedwithmypunctuality,Iexclaimedtomyself,“Thatshouldgetthatbasecommandinggeneraloffmeforawhile.”Ishutdownmyweathershack,lockedthedoors,andwalkedsmoothlytomyparkedweathertruck.My

leftkneewascontinuingtoimprove.Mylefthand,myknee,andmyankle,werestillswollenandbruised,withblackandbluespotsallupanddownmyleftleg.Althoughmywounds,especiallymyknee,werestillverytender,Inowwalkedeasilywithoutanoticeablelimp.Iclimbedintomyweathertruck,startedtheengine,andturnedontheheadlights.Itwasn’tunusualfor

metostartmytruckbeforeshuttingdownthedieselgenerator.Usually,Ididsobecausethesoundofmytruck engine made me feel more secure, which I enjoyed, being alone so far out in the desert. Thismorningwasnoexception.Itwasstilldarkoutside.Themoonwasbeautifulandshining.AsIsatlettingtheengineinmytruckwarmup,mygazeturnednaturallytowardsthenorthernsetofdoubledoorsonthegeneratorshack,theclosedset.Frombehindthem,asoftwhitefluorescentlightshowedoutthroughthevarious cracks. I knew the inside of the generator shack like the back ofmy hand. I couldn’t think ofanything insidewhichcouldpossiblybea source for the light. Itwas immediatelyapparent tome thatsomethingwasoutofplace.Ihadn’teatenyet,andwashungryforbreakfast.Onewayoranother,beforeIcould eat I was going to have to shut down the diesel. I supposed that the light was probably themoonlight, or stray light from my truck’s headlights. Without giving the matter so much as a secondthought,Isettheparkingbrakeonmytruck,lefttheenginerunninginneutral,leftthelightsonandopenedthetruckdoor.Isteppedsmoothlyoutofmytruckontothegraveloutside,andhummingtomyself,Istrodequickly across the graveled surface in through the southern set of double doors, the open set. Stillhumming,Istoppedatlast,directlyinfrontofthestillrunninggenerator.Withapracticedhand,Ithrewseveralswitchestothe‘off’positionsandshutoffthefuelflowtothecarburetor.ThenasIwaitedforthedieseltostartshuttingdown,aprocesswhichtakesseveralminutes,Ibegan

turningmyheadtocheckonthefluorescentlightcomingfromtheinsidecorneroftheshack,tomyleft.Myheadwasstillonlyhalfturned,butalreadythesourceofthelightwascomingintomyfieldofvision.Instinctively, themuscles inmybodybegan to tightenasmyeyesbegan to focus.Therewasa tall thinman-likecreaturewearingawhitefluorescentsuit,probablysixfeettall.Hehadchalkwhiteskin,blondehair,largeblueeyes,anon-protrudingnose,andanotherwisehuman-likemouth.Hewasstandingonly15feetfromme.Hehadapencil-likeinstrumentofsometypepointeddirectlyatmylefttemple.“Thisisnotgoing to hurt Charlie, but your generals really have to inspect that damaged knee,” he said in perfectEnglish.Therewasn’ttimeformetomoveorrespond.TherewasonlytimeenoughformetorealizethatIwas

standingfacetofacewithRangeFourHarry.Ifeltaslightshudderrunthroughmybody,andmyvisionsuddenlywentoutoffocus.Thenmymuscles

seemedtofreezeintoplaceandmymindseemedtowanderintoadazeforjustaninstantorso.ItseemedlikeonlyasecondortwopassedbeforeIwasabletoregaincontrolovermythoughtsandsnapoutofthedazeIwasin.Ittookonlyanothersecondortwoformetorefocusmyvisionandtakeacoupleofdeepbreathes.FinallyIgotcontrolofmymusclesandcametomysenses.Ifoundmyselfstillstandinginnearlythe same position in front of the diesel,withmy head still half turned, looking at the sidewall of the

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generator shack.Onlynow, therewasn’t anything in thecorner tomy left.Now therewasn’t any light.Therewasn’tanyplastic.Therewasn’tanyman-likecreature.Theresimplywasn’tanythingbutreflectedmorningsunlightcomingthroughthecracksintheclosedsetofdoubledoors.Thecornerwascompletelyempty. Stunned and confused, I turnedmy attention back towards the diesel engine. Itwas totally shutdown.Shocked,Icheckedthemanifold,expectingittobenearlyred-hot,butitwasstonecold.Therewasnowaytofighttheconfusionfloodingovermymind.Iknewfromexperiencethatthediesel’smanifoldtookmore than anhour to cool off.Still it seemed as if only an instant of timehadpassed. I checkedmyselfover.Iwasunhurt.Ididn’thaveamarkonme.Dazed,Istumbledfromthegeneratorshack,tryingtoregaincontrolofmyself.AsIcamethroughtheopendoorIwasalmostoverwhelmedbythefeelingthatIhadstoodtherejustashorttimeearlierandwatchedsomethinglandoutinthesagebrushtothewestofme.Icheckedmywatch.Ithadstoppedat5:05.OutsideofthegeneratorshackIfoundthesunwasalreadywellabovethehorizon.Mymindfoughtwith

theobviousfactthatatleasttwohourshadpassedsinceIhadfirstenteredtheshack.Istoodthereinthemorningsunshineforafewminutes,andtookstockofmysituation.Myhandkerchief,whichIusuallykeptinmyleftrearpocket,wasstuffedawkwardlyinmyrightfrontpocket.Myleftpantslegwasturnedupbyhalfaturn.Myfatiguehat,whichIhadwornintothegeneratorshack,wasnolongeranywhereonme.Istumbled tomy truck andgrabbedonto the door handle and the openwindow,more for the feelingofsecuritythananything.ThenInoticedthatmytruckenginewasnolongerrunningandmyheadlightshadbeenturnedoff.Myfatiguehatwassittingonthetruck’sfrontseat.Thetruckitselfhadmovedmorethantenfeet.Ifoundmyselffilledwithamomentarydeep-seatedunwillingnesstolooktowardsthemountainsinthedistantnortheast,oroutintothedeserttothewest.Yetnothinginsightappearedtobeoutofplace.Unableorunwillingtocomprehendwhathadhappened,IdecidedthatIneededtogetbackintobase

immediatelyandregroup.Iwassoconfused.Ihardlyknewwhattodo.Ijustcouldn’taccepttheobviousfactthatatleasttwohourshadgonebysinceI’denteredthegeneratorshack.Feelingsoffearanddreadwererapidlywellingupinsideofme.Iquicklyclosedandlatchedthedoorstothegeneratorshackandclimbedintomytruck.Ibreathedabigsighofreliefasthetruckengineroaredtolife.Feelingterrified,confused,alone,intotaldenial,Iwastednotimeheadingbackintotown,tothesecurityofSmokeyandhischowhall.Itwasalsocleartomethatstartingtonight,Iwouldbebunkinginabarrackswiththeothermen.

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InMemoryofMe...Asoftenasyoushalldothesethings…

Luke22:19

“BlessmeFather,forIhavesinned,”Ibeganslowly.ItwasSundaymorningattheMojaveWellsbasechapel.ConfessionsforCatholics,likemyself,wereheldjustbeforeSundayMass.“Yes,yes,myson,onwithit,”theoldpriesthurriedmealong.Hewasawonderful,holy,anddedicated

priest,easilypushing75,andveryIrish.HewasbasedinfarawaySanBernardino.EachSunday,heandayoungerpriestdrovea circuit that coveredhalfof theMojave. I lovedhis sermonsandadmiredhishonesty.Frequently, I thankedGodformyconversion toRomanCatholicismjustbecauseIenjoyedhissermonssomuch.Hewaslarge,tall,andheavyset.HowhefoundtheenergytomakethelongdrivefromSanBernardinowasalwaysamysterytome.“Ihadtoomuchbeertodrinklastnight,Father,andalmostgotdrunk,”Ihumblycontinued.“Yes,Yes,”hehurriedmealong.“YoungIrishladslikeyourselfalwaysgettogetherandenjoyafew

goodbeers.Jesusunderstands.Nowgetonwithit.Thereareotherswaiting.”Offbalance,Ihumblycontinued,“AndIgotintoafightwithoneoftheotherAirmen.Itwasmyfault.I

should have beenmore patientwith him. I apologized thismorning and shook handswith him beforecomingtoMass.”“Yes,Yes,” he hurriedme along. “Young Irish lads are always up for a good fight. That’s howwe

protectedourselvesfromtheheathenEnglish.Afewgoodbruisesneverhurtanyoneofthem.Nowgetonwithit.There’reEnglishsinnerswaiting.”“And,and,”Istammered,“IoversleptlastSundayandmissedMass.”Rightthere,hestoppedme.“MissedMass?”heexclaimedinraisedtones.Icouldseeimmediatelythat

Ihadsinnedbadly,andIwasinbigtrouble.“OurIrishCatholicheritageissoprecious,”hecontinuedangrily.“IfwestartmissingMassonSunday,

why,we’llbenobetter than theEnglish.Always remember thatGodcreated twochosenpeople.FirstthereweretheJews.ThenJesuscame,theJewsrejectedhim,andhewascrucified.ThenGodchosetheIrish!EveryIrishmanknowsthatsalvationoftheworldiscomingfirstthroughtheJews,andthenthroughtheIrish.GodwantsyoutoattendtheMasseverySunday,myson,evenifyou’resick,bruisedup,deaddrunk,orhungover.EverySunday,yourplaceishereinthechurchkneelingbeforeGod,celebratingtheMass.Godwantsyouhere,notbecauseyouareworthytobeheremyson,butbecausehechoseyouandcalledyoutobehere.”Icouldseethatthegoodfatherhadhisownideasaboutthings.ItwasahotsummerSunday.Thebluedesertskiesweredecoratedwiththeusualhighwispycirrusand

cooledbytheusualgentledesertwinds.AfterMass,Irested,backinmybarracks.ThenIwentforthenoonmeal.Whenitwasover,Ireturnedtomybarracks,pickedupacleantowel,switchedintomyswimtrunks,andheadeduptotheMojaveWellsbaseswimmingpool,whichwasanopenswimmingpool,andperfectlymaintained. Therewas no lifeguard. I began by opening the pool. Then I unlocked the poolequipment house that sat next to it, and turned on the circulation pumps. The equipment house wasconstructed entirely out of concrete blocks. Like the pool, it was surrounded by gravel. It had nowindows,andwasonly6feethigh,withapeakedroof.Asusual,whenIarrivedIfoundsixorsoyoungchildreninswimtrunkswaitingforme.Theirparents

lived in town.Theywould let themswimonly if anadultwerepresent. Iopened thepool, recited the

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rules,and jumped into thewarmwaterannouncing that Iwasready toplayour favoritewatergame. ItwasagamethatIhadmadeupmyself.Icalledit“ThedestroyerHaymmangame”.Theideawastoteacheachoftheyoungchildrenhowtoswimbymakingitafungameforthem.Thosechildrenwhoalreadyknewhow to swimwouldpretend tobeGerman submarines, lurkingout in thedeepwater,waiting toattack by splashingwater in big columns. Thosewhowere still learningwould pretend to beBritishcargoshipstryingtomakeitacrossthecolddarkwatersoftheNorthAtlanticfromAmericatoEngland,reallytheshallowendofthepool,tryingtomakeitacrossanywaytheycouldbyswimmingorlearningtoswim.IwasthedestroyerHaymman,whowastryingdesperatelytoprotecttheconvoybyteachingthemtoswimbetter,andbysplashingbigcolumnsofwater,supposedlydepthcharges,todriveofftheGermansubmarines,whomightattackunderwater.IftheGermansubmarinescouldn’tbedrivenoff,thedestroyerHaymmanwouldbeforcedtocry‘UNCLE’andalloftheBritishcargoshipswouldbeforcedtoheadforthe safety of Iceland, also known as the side of the pool. The game also taught the children somegeography.Itwasafungame,andthechildrenjustlovedplayingit.SoonIhadthemallswimminglikeexpertsacrossthedeepend.MyfriendClarkusuallycameaswell,andweallplayedtogether.TherewasonelittlegirlIespeciallyremember.Shewasonlysixyearsoldorso.Onthisdayshewas

sittingon thestepsof thepool, laughingashappyasa littlegirlcan laugh.Shehad justgottenused toholdingherbreathandduckingherheadunderwater.Iwasbentoveronthesideofthepoolnexttoher,laughingbecausethedestroyerHaymmanhadjustbeenforcedtobreakoffaconvoyruninmidocean.Thelittle German submarineswere getting too good. As she sat there laughing, she giggled, “Mr. CharlieBaker,youaresomuchfun,myotherfriendswanttoplaywithyou.”“Well,youcanbringyourother friendswithyouwhenyoucome,” I laughed in return.“Tell themto

comeintheirswimsuits,andI’llteachthemtoswimtoo.TellthemthedestroyerHaymmanhaslotsofcargoshipsthathavetobeconvoyedtoEngland.”“But,theyaren’tabletoswim,”sheresponded.“That’snoproblem,”Ilaughed.“ThedestroyerHaymmancanteachanyhumanhowtoswim.”“Iknow,buttheirmothertoldthemtheycan’tcomebecausetheycanneverlearntoswim,”thelittlegirl

continuedinnocently.Stunned, I stood there,waist deep inpoolwater for a fewminutes, staring at the littlegirl.Mojave

Wellswasaverysmalltown.IthoughtIhadmetallofthechildren.Irememberedthatthislittlegirllivedinanordinaryhouseonthesoutheastedgeoftown.Onlyanordinaryshortwirefenceseparatedherbackyardfromthesagebrushandthenearbymountainsbeyond.Ihadseenagroupoffourwhitefluorescentlightsfloatoutof thosemountains,crossthefence,andcontinueintothelittlegirl’sbackyard,asIwaswalkingbacktomybarracksafewnightsbefore.IttookmeafewminutesbeforeIcouldformmynextwords.ThenIcontinuedslowly,“Butsurelytheirmotherknowsthateveryhumancanlearntoswim.”“Yes,”thelittlegirlanswered.“Theirmotherknowsthatverywell.She’sateacher.”“Doyouplaywithyourfriendsoften?”Islowlyasked.“Yes,”sheresponded.“OnsummernightsIleavemybedroomwindowopen.Thenaftermymotherputs

metobed,myfriendscomedownfromthemountain,andinthroughmywindow.Thentheyplaywithme.Theirteacheralwaysstaysoutside.Usuallyweplayinmybedroom,butsometimestheytakemeoutsideandweplayinmybackyard.”“Doesn’tyourmothereverhearyouplaying,andcomeintoyourroomtoseeifyou’reasleep?”Iasked.“No,”thelittlegirlreplied.“Myfriendsalwayswaituntilmymotherisasleep.”“Butyourmotherstaysupquitelate,doesn’tshe?”Icontinued.“Iknowyourfatherworkslateintothe

night.Doesn’tyourmotherstayupandwaitforhim?”“Yes,” she replied. “But thatdoesn’tmatter.Mymother alwaysgoes to sleep justbeforemy friends

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come.Usuallymymothergoestosleepinthekitchen.Usuallyshegoestosleepsittinginoneofthechairsatthekitchentable.Butonenightlastweek,shewasstandinginfrontofthesink,gettingreadytodothedishesforalmostanhour.WhenIwentouttogetaglassofwater,shejuststoodtherewithoutmoving.Mymotherwouldn’tspeaktome,oranything.Theteachertoldmenottoworry.Shesaidmymotherwasjustasleepandthatshewouldwakeupandbejustfine,assoonasmyfriendsleft.Theteacherwasright.Assoon asmy friends left, mymother woke up happy, and just went right on humming andwashing thedishes.”Iwastoonumb,confused,andcoldtoanswer.Itookalapofthepoolaroundthedeependtocollectmy

thoughts.ThenIreturnedtothesideofthepool,andcontinued,“Ifyourfriendswanttocometothepoolwithyou,andjustplayontheothersideofthefence,theycan.Thatmightbefun.”“OK,”shelaughed.“Buttheycan’tcomeinthedaytime,Mr.Charlie.Couldyoucomeoutandbethe

lifeguardtomorrownightafterdarksomeandmyfriendscouldcomeandplay?”Istruggledforalongtimebeforeanswering.“Ok.Justforyou,I’llcomeouttomorroweveningat6:30

andbethelifeguarduntil9:00p.m.”“Butthat’snotlateenough,Mr.Charlie,”sheresponded.“Myfriendsnevercomethatearly.Couldyou

comeoutatmidnightandbethelifeguarduntil3:00a.m.?Wecanplaythen.”Stillstrugglingwithmyanswers,Iresponded,“Icancomeoutat6:30intheeveningandstayuntilafter

midnight,butIwillhavetoclosethepoolby12:30a.m.Ifyouwantmetowalkyoubacktoyourhouse,Iwill,but thenIhave togorightbacktomybarracksandgetmysleep.Thatwill leavemewithonly2hoursofsleepbeforeIhavetogetupagainandtakethefirstweatherreport.Butareyousurethatyourmotherwillletyoustayupplayingatthepoolthatlate?”“Don’tworry.It’llbealright,”thelittlegirlreplied.“Mymotherwillgotosleepandtheteacherwill

bringusover.She’lltakeusback,too.”Ididn’tquitebelievethathermotherwouldactuallyallowhertogoouttoplayuntil3:00a.m.,buther

story intriguedme nevertheless. Iwent to the pool at 7:00 p.m. the following evening and swam andloitereduntil12:30a.m.Itwasabeautifulnightwithanearlyfullmoon.Thelittlegirlnevershowedupandneitherdidherfriends.Isleptforatimeinoneoftheloungechairs,andhadaveryunusualdream.Idreamt that some tall chalkwhitemanwalked over from the nearby town, and sat on the roof of theequipment building watching me for a time. After my dream ended, I woke up, closed the pool, andheadedbacktomybarracks.ThenextSunday,anewpriestcelebratedtheMass.Hebeganbyinformingusthattheelderlypriesthad

diedinacaraccidentthepreviousSunday,whilecommutinghisterritory.Heledusinaprayerforthereposeofthesoulofthedeceasedpriest.

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Tumbleweeds...ButasItoldyou,youhaveseenme

andstillyoudonotbelieve.

...John6:36

Thatsummerinthe’60’s,passedquicklyatMojaveWells.Thedayswerecaptivatinglybeautiful,andinnocent.Iwastherangeweatherobserver.Myordersinstructedmetospendmydutyhoursoutontheranges,inmyrangeweathershacks,dayornight,rainorshine.Thedutyhadbeenpleasant.Thesummerweatherhadbeendesert hot,with theusualgentlewinds. I returned tobase atMojaveWellsonly formealsorwhenmydutyhourswere finished for theday. Itwas lonelyduty,but thoseweremyorders.Sometimes Iwonderedwhynoweather observer beforemehad ever fully obeyed those sameorders.Sometimes Iwonderedwhat itwas about the ranges that theyhad all found so terrifying.Sometimes IwonderedwhytheweatherobserverwhomIhadrelieved,hadquietlydeserted,ratherthanobeyorders.Intheend,itallmeantnothingtome.Orderswereorders.IpurchasedapaintbynumbersetfromthesmallMojaveWellsBXandbusiedmyselfpainting.Soon

twopaintingsoffallmountainscenesadornedthewallsofmyweathershack.I’ddonemybestonthem.AlthoughIdoubtthatVanGoghwouldhaveagreedwithme,Ifelttheywerequitebeautiful.Displayingthemformyfriendstosee,meantagreatdealtome.IdoubtthatRembrandtwaseverprouderthanIwasasIcarefullypositionedthemonhooksthatI’dnailedintothewallsofmyweathershack.Thepaintingshadbeendoneonwood.TheywerequitesturdyandhungsecurelyintheplaceswhereIpositionedthem.Ineveractuallysaweitherofthemmovewhenthesummerwindswhisperedthroughmyweathershack.Yet,somemorningswhenIopenedmyshack,thetwopaintingswouldbehangingsomewhatdifferentlythanwhenIhadclosedtheshackthedaybefore.Onemorningtheyhadevenbeenswitchedfromonenailtotheother.ThefirstfewtimesithappenedIthoughtitwasjustmymindplayingtricksonme.Thenforafewtimes,

Isupposeditwasjustthewindthathadmovedthem.Onthismorning,however,thewindhadbeencalmfor theentiredayandeveningbefore.So itwaswithmixedemotions that Icarefully re-positioned thepaintingsafteropeningupat3:45a.m.,inpreparationforthe4:30a.m.run.Thetwopaintingshadmovedslightlyduringthenight.Iwasn’tsureifIshouldblamethedesertwinds

andjustignoretheincident,orifIshouldfeelpridebecausesomeonecaredenoughtostudymyartwork,orifIshouldfeelfearbecausetheonlyreasonableexplanationwasthatsomethingunknownhadenteredmylockedweathershackthenightbeforejust tostudymeandmypaintings.ThatmorningIspentmorethanafewminuteslookingoutintothedarkness,alonewithmythoughtsandmyemotionswonderingwhatitwas thathadso terrified theweatherobserversbeforeme. Idecided that if somethingunknownwaslurkingoutthere,watchingmyeverymovefromthepre-dawndarkness,itmustappreciatebeautyasIdid.Whyelsewoulditcareaboutmytwopaintings?Isaidaquickprayer.IaskedGodtocontinuetowatchoverandprotectmefromeverythingthatmightbehidingoutthereinthedarkness.ThenIdecidedIwouldlivealonger,happierlifeifIjustshruggedofftheincidentandchalkedituptothedesertwinds.WhatIdidn’tknowabout,Idecided,wasn’tgoingtohurtme.OtherthingsatMojaveWellshadcapturedmyprideandemotions,too.Oneofthemwasarock.Itwas

asmallgraniterockcoloredwithuniqueshadesofgray.Itfiteasilyintomyrighthand.Ithadseveralflatspots,and thismade itquiteuseful.Onwindydays, Iused it toholdmyclipboardandpaper forms in

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placeas Iwas taking theballoon readings.For this reason, I stored iton thegroundat thebaseof themetalpost thatheldmy theodolite. Icouldget to iteasily,and itwasalways therewhenIneeded it. Ifrequentlyleftitlyingoutside,andseldompaidmuchattentiontotheexactdetailsofwhereI’dleftit.Itwas,afterall,justarock.Thesesummerdayshadbeensobeautifulandinnocent,thatIhadneverfeltanyalarmwhensomemorningstherockseemedtohavebeenmovedwhenitwaslyingoutonthegroundoutofmysight.I rememberwell this Fridaymorning. The rangesweren’t being used and everythingwas unusually

peaceful.Afterre-positioningmytwopaintings,takingthemorningballoonrun,drivinginforbreakfast,andmakingthelongdrivebackout toRangeThree,Ifoundmyselfsittingquietly inmyweathershack,reading another interestinghistory book, this timeon the history of ancientGreece.At the time, Iwasreading the chapter on the experiences of the ancientGreekwarrior,Xenophon, and the 10,000Greeksoldiersinhiscommand.HewasanancientGreekwarriorwhohadsavedthelivesofthe10,000menunderhiscommandbecausehecouldseedangereveninthewind.Ihadboththefrontandsidedoorsopen,andmyweathershackwasfilledwithcool,gentlebreezes.It

wasstillanothertwohours,orso,beforeIwasscheduledtotakethenoonballoonrun.Withoutwarning,myphonebegan ringing intensely.The ringing surprisedmebecause itwas unusually loud and strong.Usuallytheconnectionstomyphoneweren’tthatgood.Thetimingbetweentheringswasalsounusuallyshort.After noticing these facts, I picked up the receiver and answered, “RangeThreeweather shack.Charliehere.”Tomymild surprise, therewasn’t anyoneon theotherend.After realizing that Iwas listening toan

unusuallyfaintdialtone,Ihungupthephone.Afewminutespassed.Againmyphonerang.This time, though, theringswerenotas loudandwere

spacedfurtherapartsothattheringingphonesoundedalmostthewayitusuallydid.Again,afternotingthesefacts,Iansweredthephone,“RangeThreeweatherstation.Charliespeaking.”Onceagain,noonewasontheotherend.Afterlisteningforaminuteorsotothefaintsoundofthedial

tone,Idecidedtojusthangupthephoneandgoonwithmyhistorybook.Afewmoreminutespassed.Stillagainmyphonerang.Thistime,though,theringswereattheperfect

levelofloudnessandwerespacedperfectlyapart,sothattheringingphonesoundedexactlythewayitusuallydid.Again,afternotingthesefacts,Iansweredthephone,“Rangethreeweatherstation.Charliespeaking.”Onceagain,noonewasontheotherend.Afterlisteningforaminuteorsotothefaintsoundofthedial

tone,onceagainIdecidedtojusthangupthephoneandgoonwithmyhistorybook.AsIwasreading,acuriousthoughtforceditswayintomyconsciousness.Iwonderedifsomeonewas

justtestingtheirelectronicequipmentbyringingmyphoneuntiltheyhadtheirinstrumentssetcorrectly.Butthen,Ithought,ifthatwerethecase,howwouldtheyknowwhentheirinstrumentsweresetcorrectly?Iwondered for a fewminutes.Then, for someunknown reason,mymind stumbled across a curious

question.Inolongerfeltalone,andIdidn’tfeelcomfortablereadinganymore.Theconstantgentlewindmademefeeluneasy.IbegantofeelmuchlikeXenophon.Igotupfrommychairandsteppedoutmysidedoorforaquicklookaround.Outside,itwasabeautifulsummermorningandeverythingseemedperfectlynormal.Ireturnedinside

andcontinuedreadingmyhistorybook.Afterreadingonforafewmoreminutes,though,Ifoundmyselfstill wonderingwhymy phone had rung.Was it really awrong number, Iwondered, or had someoneintentionallymeant todisturbmefrommyreading?Afterall, thedifferencesbetweenthefirstseriesofrings,thesecond,andthenthethirddidn’tseemaccidental.Iputmybookdownanddecidedtogooutsideforabetterlookaround.

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Outside, in the desert sunshine, everything still appeared to be normal. I foundmyself singing somehappysongsand takingashortwalkaround theRangeThreebuildings.Nowand thenIwouldhappilyshout,“Hello,”outovertheapparentlyemptydesert.ThenI’dlistencarefullytoseeifanyechoescamebackfromthedistantmountains.Tomysurprise,onatleasttwotries,IwascertainthatI’dheardechoes,eventhoughtheshapeanddistanceofthemountainsandthegentlewindsmadethatphysicallyimpossible.The winds that filled the blue dome of the sky supported several large white fleecy clouds. Their

shadowsdancedplayfullyover themountains andover the sagebrushcoveredvalleys.Everynowandthen,theradiowouldplayoneofmyfavoritesongs,andthewindwouldblowsomedrysagebrushandtumbleweedsbetweenthebuildings.Ireachedoutandcaughtacoupleofthemastheybouncedgentlypastme.ThenIthrewthemhighintotheairsothatthewindcouldblowthemonthroughtheopenspacesinthebuildingsandonout into thedesertbeyond. Idecided that Iwasplaying“catch thewind.”After Ihadcaughtseveraltumbleweedsandthrownthemupovermyheadtoseeiftheywouldmissthebuildingsastheydriftedonoutintothedesert,somethingcurioushappened.Inoticedthatallofthetumbleweedsthatwerecomingtowardme,werecomingfromthesamesectionof thedesertdownto thesoutheast.Theyweredriftingwiththewind,driftingtowardsmefromthesoutheast,fromthedirectionofRangeTwo.Atfirst this seemed perfectly reasonable. The gentle wind was coming from that direction, and thetumbleweeds were obviously drifting with the wind. After watching them for only a few minutes,however,Ibecomemildlyalarmed.IfeltasthoughIwereseeingacertaindanger,hiddeninwind.Thetumbleweedswerecomingfromtheplacewherethedesertchangedelevation.Thetumbleweedswouldfirstappearbydriftingupovertherise,asthoughsomeunseenpersonwastossingthemupintotheair,inalmost playful fashion as I had been. Then, as thewind blew them, theywould gently roll or bouncetowardsme,sometimesmakingittome,sometimesmissingmebywidemarks.I began toworry thatmymindmight be playing tricks onme. It began to seem as though all of the

tumbleweedswhichthewindwasblowingaroundwerecomingfromthesamelittlestretchofdesert,thestretchwhich lay perfectly downwind ofme. I counted for a fewminutes andmentally computed thestatistics that seemed to confirmmy suspicions.When I tried to re-compute the numbers, it suddenlyseemed like tumbleweedswere appearing everywhere out along the desert rise except from the placewhere they had appeared before. I became convinced that a large group of people, or children,werehiding down behind that rise in the desert and playing catch with me by intentionally releasingtumbleweedsintothewindformetocatch.Istudiedthedriftingtumbleweedssomemore.Theywerecomingfromtoomanyplacesforittobejust

one person playing with me. I spent a few minutes counting tumbleweeds. I decided that if thetumbleweedswerebeingreleasedbyagroupofchildren,theriseinthedesertwouldhavetobehidingatleasttwelveorthirteenofthem.Then,asIwatchedandstudiedsomemore,anevenmorecuriousthinghappened.Even though thewindcontinued toblowgently, the sameas it hadbefore, the tumbleweedssuddenlyandcompletelystoppedcoming.Iwasstunned.Thesilenceandemptinessthatengulfedmethatmorning,leftapermanentimprintonmy

consciousness.AsIstoodthere,IwonderedifIshouldgetinmytruckanddriveouttothatriseinthedesert.Itwould

letmeactuallyseewhatwashidingbelowit.Then,asIthoughtaboutitforafewminutes,Ifoundmyselfbecomingafraidtodoso.Ibegantofeelthatitwouldbedangerousformetoknowverymuchaboutthewindandthewayitblewfromdownthere.Ifoundmyselfbecomingterrifiedofthedistantridgeandofthewinds.Myfearswerebecomingtoorealandwerebeingcarriedtomeonthewinds.IdecidedthatIwouldbesafeenoughifIstayedwhereIwasaslongasIdidn’tmakethemistakeof

goingdowntoseecloseupwhatlaybeyondthatdistantriseinthedesert.

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Itriedtogetanechofromthedistantmountains,asIwascertainIhaddonebefore,butnomatterhowmanytimesIshouted,“Hello,”outtothemountains,absolutelynothingcameback.Infrustrationwiththeemptinessoftherangesandthegentledesertwinds,Ipacedbackandforthseveraltimes,wonderingwhattomake of it all.Having nothing else to do, I decided to try throwing rocks out into the empty, sunlitstillness.Choosingfivesmoothpebblesfromthedesertfloor,Ifirsttriedthrowingthem,onebyone,outintothedesert.Atfirstnothinghappened.Then,onthefifthrock,Iscaredsomebirdsthatwererestingoutunderadistantsageplant.FeelingasthoughI’dsinned,Idecided,instead,tojustthrowtherocksatthelargewoodenbillboardsthatstoodonthenortheastcornerofthebuildingarea.Pebbleafterpebble,rockafterrock,Ibouncedoffthebillboards.SoonIwasconvincedthatIcouldeasilyhitanyboardonanyofthebillboards,eventhosehighestupandfurthestaway.Then,without thinking,Ipickedupmyfavoriterock.Gettingagoodgriponit,IthrewitashardasIcould,upagainsttheupperrightcornerofthemostdistantbillboard.Ithit thewoodensupportpoststraighton,andbouncedoutintothedistantsagebrush.Realizingsuddenlythatmyfavoriterockwouldnowbelostoutinthedesert,Ibeganreproachingmyself.Ispentthenexthalfhoursearchingthroughthesagebrushandthedesertsandlookingformyfavoriterock.Itdidn’tsurpriseme.Therockwassimplylostforever,hiddenoutinthedesertbeyondrecovery.Upsetwithmyselfandstillnotsurewhattomakeofthesituation,Ireluctantlydecidedtoreturntomy

historybook.Thetimepassedslowlyuntilnoonapproached.Puttingmybookasideinthemiddleofaparagraph,I

preparedmyweatherballoon, andbegan taking thenoon runon schedule.Naturally, Iwished tohurrythroughtherun,soIcouldclosemyshackandmakeit intobaseintimetoeatthenoonmeal.Iquicklyreleasedmyweatherballoonandbegantakingthe timedreadings,asusual.Thewindtoreatmypaperreportform,andIwassoonveryannoyedwithmyselfforhavingthrownawaymyfavoriterock.Ithadbeensouseful.Ifoundmyselfwishingthatsomefriendlypersonwouldfinditandreturnittome.ThenIhadtolaughatmyself.SinceIhadnevertoldanyoneaboutmyfavoriterock,howwouldanyoneknowitwas ‘my’ rock, even if theywere ever to find it out in thedesert?Thenmymind stumbled across thesimplefactthatalthoughitwasjustaperfectlyordinaryrock,uniqueonlytome,someonewhohadseenmewith the rockmightknowitwasmine if theyever found it.Only theywouldknowthat Iwouldbehappy if theywereever to return it tome.As I stood there cursing thewindand laughingatmyself, IdecidedthatitwouldtakeapersonfarmoreintelligentthanIjusttoidentifywhichrockhadbeenmineinthefirstplace,letalonefinditoutinthedesertandreturnittome.AsIwasrestingmyeyesbetweenreadings,wishingIstillhadmyfavoriterock,Ireturnedtostudying

the sagebrush down to the southeast, down where the desert changed elevation. To my surprise, onetumbleweedbouncedplayfullyupovertheriseanddriftedinthewind,bouncingupanddownoverthedesert toward me. It happened that the wind blew the tumbleweed in a predictable fashion until thetumbleweedbouncedstraightuptome.Asmymindstruggledwiththis,Ipulledthetumbleweedoffmyboots and legs, and tossed it aside. In the short time it took for thewind toblow it beyondmy reach,another second tumbleweed bounced playfully up and over the rise, obviously coming from the sameplace.Itookanotherreadingasthisone,too,wasblowndirectlyuptome,scrapingupagainstmybootsand fatigues. I tossed this one, too, aside. Then,whilemymind still struggled tomake sense of theseevents,stillathirdtumbleweedbouncedplayfullyupandoverthedistantrise.Likethefirsttwo,thewindgently blew and bounced this one directly towards me. I took my last balloon reading, and as thetumbleweedgentlybounced towardsme, I closedupmy theodolite.This tumbleweed, too,wasblowndirectlyuptome.Ipickedupmyclipboard,pencils,anddatasheets,andtossedthisonetoo,aside.Then,Istoodthereforaminuteorso,waitingforanothertumbleweed,butnomoreappeared.Withmyhungrystomachremindingmeofthetime,Ireturnedtomyshack,completedmycalculations,

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andphonedthemintoDesertCenter.Icheckedthetime.Ihadabouttenminutestospare,soIdecidedIwouldquicklyfinishreadingtheparagraphinmyhistorybook.ThenIwouldheadtothechowhall.Ihadjust sat down atmy desk and openedmy bookwhenmy phone rang. I let it ring a few times beforeansweringit.Theringwastheverysametone,loudness,andtimingasitnormallywas.Iwasnolongerfooled. I picked up the phone and answered, “Range Three weather station, Charlie speaking.” As Ilookedoutthroughmyfrontandsidedoors,Icouldseeasingletumbleweedbounceplayfullyupoverthatdistantriseinthedesert.Thewindblewit,gentlybouncingitoverthedesert,untilitdirectlystruckthemetal pole that supported my now locked theodolite. Through the side door I could see anothertumbleweedbouncingupoverthatdistantdesertrise,comingfromthesameplaceasthefirstonehad.Inthephone,allIcouldhearwasthefaintsoundofthedialtone,muchfainterthannormal.Understandingatlastwhatwashappening,Ispokepleasantlyintothephone.Isaidtruthfully,“Idon’tknowwhoyouare,butI’msorry.Ican’tplaywithyourightnow.Iamveryhungry.Ihavetodriveintothechowhallandeatthenoonmeal.ButifyouwishtoplaywiththetumbleweedsoutherewhileI’mgone,youmay.Iwon’tbebackuntilalmosttwoo’clock.Thisplacewillbedesertedforthenexthourandahalf.”ThenIpausedandlistenedforafewseconds.Lookingoutthesidedoor,Icouldseefirstone,thentwo,thenthree,andfour, thenmore, tumbleweedsbounceplayfullyupover thedistant rise in thedesert.Allof themwereapparentlyaimedforthemetalpostthatheldmytheodolite.Chucklingtomyself,Ihungupthephone,closedandlockedthedoorstomyweathershack.Iwalked

directlytomytruckandheadedintobase.“Itmustbeabunchofkids,”Ilaughedtomyself,“judgingbythewaythey’veorganizedthisgameof‘catchthewind’.”Itookmytimeeatingthenoonmeal.ThenItookaquicknapinthebarracks.IfeltIcouldusetherest.I

finallyarrivedbackatmyRangeThreeweathershackat1:50p.m.Ineededtotakejustonemoreballoonmeasurement for the day. The tumbleweeds weren’t blowing around anymore even though the windshadn’tchanged.Idecideditmusthavebeenalargegroupofchildrenandthattheymusthavehadlotsoffun.BeforeIcouldunlockmytheodolite,Ifirsthadtoclearmorethan13tumbleweeds,allstucktogether,awayfromthemetalpole.Likechildreneverywhere,Iguess,theywereproudoftheiraim.AlthoughIhadnoideawhatkindofchildrenwouldbehiding22milesoutinthedesertonanicedayliketoday,Icouldhardlyhavebeenangrywiththem.Underthefirsttumbleweed,lyinginthepositionwhereIusuallystoredit, theyhadplacedmy favorite rock, theone Ihadpreviously lostby foolishly throwing itout into thedesert.Ittookmonthsformetogetovermyamazement.Unlockingandenteringmyweathershack thatbeautifulafternoon, I receivedanother jolt.Oneofmy

twopaintingswasmissingfromtheinsidewallofmyweathershack.IwassoshockedthatIcouldhardlycomprehendwhat had happened. The one thatwasmissingwasmy least favorite of the two. SeveralmonthswouldpassbeforeIwouldagain,ononecoldwintermorning,openmyweathershackandagainseethemissingpainting,lookingjustasithad,withoutamarkonit,hangingthereonceagainonthesamehook that had held it on that summer day somanymonths before. I hardly neededmore proof that thechildrenwhomIhadplayedwithonthatbeautifulsummerdaywerereal.Theyobviouslyappreciatedabeautifulpicturewhentheysawone.AsIstoodtherelookingoutoverthedesertonthatbeautifulsummerday,IthoughtIglimpsedsomething

playingintheheatwavesofftotheeast.Theheatwavescameupoffthedesertlikethoseoffafurnace.Theheatwavesblendedtheimagesofthesagebrush,thesunshine,andthedesertsandsinwiththeimagesof distant children with chalk white skin, wide blue eyes, and blonde hair. The images all blendedtogetherintheheatwavesandinthehotbrightsunlightuntilallIcouldseewerechalkwhitepatchesthatseemedtofloatandplayout there in theheat.Therewerealmost20suchimagesdriftingoutalongthebaseof theeasternmountains.Oneof the imagesseemed tobeproudlycarryingmypainting.Yes, like

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Xenophon,IfeltthatIhadgottenglimpsesofthingsoutthereinthewind.

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MillennialHospitalityThoselivingfarawayfearyourwonders;wheremorningdawnsandeveningfades…

Psalm65:8

Atnight,underamidsummermoon,thedesertvalleystretchingnorthfromMojaveWellswasavalleyofrestfulstunningbeauty.Intheevening,coolmusicalbreezessweptgentlyalongmorethanonehundredmilesofsagebrushmeadows.Long,thin,andcathedral,thenorth-southvalleyconnectedsmoothlyatitssouthernendwithanother“L”shapedvalley,which,inturnarcedgentlytowardsthesoutheast,flowingintoabroad“Y”shapedvalley,endingatlastinthegreenmeadowsofthePalmMeadowsgolfcourses.Meadowstomeadows,asinglegentlebreezecoulddriftovermorethan250milesofdesert,andundermore than 250 miles of starlight. I had given these beautiful meadows a name. I named them, “TheMeadowsofArcturus”LookingatmyclockasIlayquietlyinmybunk,Icouldseeitwasgoingon2:20a.m.Sleepinginthe

barracksatMojaveWellshadtaughtmetobeveryquietasIgotup.Italsotaughtmetoenjoyshaving,brushingmyteeth,andgettingdressedinneartotaldarkness.Isharedthebarrackswith6otherairmen.Mydutyhours started at 4:00 a.m., but theirs didn’t start until 8:00 a.m.Towake anyoneof thembyaccidentwouldsurelygetmydaystartedoffonthewrongfoot.Thus,almostwithoutthinking,Iquietlyarosefrommybunkandputonmyuniform.Then,havingshoweredthenightbefore,Ishaved,brushedmyteeth,collectedmyflashlight,andquietlyslippedoutthebarracksbythebackdoor.Outside,Ifoundaquiet,beautifullyawakeningexperience.Thedesertseemedtoshimmerunderafull

moonandcountlessstars.Themoonwassobright therewasn’tanyreasonformetousemyflashlight.Silent andhappy in this cathedral-likeworld,walking in the shadowsunder the trees,marching in thedarknessnexttothebarracks,orfollowingalonginthegrayplacesalongthefences,Iquicklytraveledthefourshortblockstothemotorpool,reachingatlast,myUSAFpickuptruck.Iwasquiteproudofmyself,really.Ihadneveronceturnedonanylight,andIhadbeensoquietthrough

itall, thathadanyoneinsideoroutsidethebarracksbeenawakeandwatching,noonecouldeverhaveknownthatIwasafoot.But,thenreally,whowouldcare?Upaboveme, stretched thebeautiful, quiet, starlit sky.Mygaze fell naturallyupon the constellation

BootesanditsbrighteststarnamedArcturus,TheWatcherbytheancientGreeks.Fourthbrighteststarinthe nighttime sky, it was so beautiful and, since it is only 36 light years from earth, so near. On thisevening,Ifounditslighttobepeaceful,silent,andrelaxing.Irememberedreading,somewhere,thatthemenofancientGreece,backbeforetheyear1000B.C.,believedthattallwhitegodshadcometoearthfromthestarArcturus,andonwarmsummernightswhenthemenofGreecewereoutcamping,thesetallwhitegodswouldcomeandwatchthemfromashortdistance.Ihadgottenupanhourearlybecausetodaywasaspecialday.Today,themajor,downatDesertCenter

AFB,wouldbedecidingifIwasreadyforpromotiontothenextenlistedrank,thecovetedrankofairmanfirstclass.Today,Idecided,Iwouldreallyimpressmycommandingofficer.Iintendedtofilemyweatherreportearly.First,Iwoulddrivethe25milesoutintothedeserttorangethree,tomyweathershack,asIdideveryweekdaymorning.But,today,whenIreleasedtheheliumfilledweatherballoonandmeasuredthewinds,asIdideveryweekdaymorning,itwouldbespecial.Today,IwouldusethespecialweatherballoonthatIhadcarefullyhandpickedthedaybefore,inflateitwithextracare,andtracktheballoonforatleastanextra30minutes.Thiswouldallowmetoreportthewindspeedanddirectionforaltitudesfar

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higher thananyMojaveWellsweatherobserverhadeverdonebeforeme.Surely, I thought, themajorwouldbeimpressed.Hewouldpromotemeforsure.Icouldhardlyhavebeenhappier,thisbeautifulmoonlitnight,asIstrodetowardsmywaitingweather

truck.Justyesterdayafternoon,themechanicsatthemotorpoolhadgivenitanoilchange,lubejob,andageneraltune-up.CarryingasmallV8enginethatwasinnearperfectcondition,itsatwaitingtofeelmyfootonitsgaspedal.Itdidn’tmaketheslightestbitofdifferencetomeatthetime,butthetruck,likeme,washiddenoutofsight,andintheshadows.Facingtheopenroad,as itwas,Istarteditupwithoutsomuchastouchingthebrakes-andthereforewithouteveroncelightingthebrakelights.Assoonastheenginewasrunning,acuriousthoughtcrossedmymind.Thenightwassobeautifuland

themoonlightwassobright,wasitreallynecessarytoturnontheheadlights?Theenginewasveryquietandthetruckhadnoradio.Thismeantthatsofar,Icouldn’tpossiblyhaveawakenedanyone.Turningonthe headlightsmight change all that. So, on this beautifulmoonlit night, I decided to begin driving outtowardsthegunneryrangeswithallofmylightsstilloff.It was quite easy, really, driving without headlights. I rolled down the window, thought beautiful

thoughts, and broughtmy speed up to 20mph as I headed the truck down the narrowpaved road thatheadedouttowardsrangethree.Theroadwassunkenalittle,andconcealedbysagebrushonbothsides.Keepingintheshadowsonmy

sideoftheroad,itwasasimplemattertoseewhereIwasgoing.Ihadfalleninlovewiththebeautyofthedesertthatevening.ItseemedlikeIwoulddestroythatbeautyifIweretoturnonmyheadlights.SinceI didn’t need the headlights, I decided to leave themoff for the entire drive. So it happened that, hadanyonebeenwatching, theywouldhavehadnowayofknowingthatIwascoming.Theycouldn’thaveknownthatIwascomingfromsofar,soquiet,sounseen,andspeedingupto35milesperhour,cominguponthemsofast.InthefewweeksIhadbeenatMojaveWells,Ihadlearnedtheroadouttorangethreebyheart.AsI

drovenorth,upthestraightvalley,Inoticedhowclearthenightairwas.Themountainsatthenorthernendofthevalley,some100milesdistant,stoodoutclearlyinthenightsky.Aftertravelingseveralmiles,theturn off to range one slid by on my right. The intersection with the range one gravel road created awindowinthesagebrushwallonmyright.Gazingoutthroughthatwindow,downthe“L”shapedvalleytowardsthesoutheast,myeyesfocusedinonthegate, thecontrol tower, thebuildings,andtheweathershackforrangeone,locateddowninanotherbeautifulmeadowofsagebrushsome25milesdistant.Upaheadontheright,anotherwindowopenedinthesagebrushwall.ThroughitIcouldseethecontrol

tower,theweathershack,andthebuildingsofrangetwo.Theyweredifficulttopickout,locatedastheywere, at the base of the distantmountains, on the far slope of the “L” shaped valley, some 30milesdistant. Theywere always so beautiful and so peaceful in the distance. I wondered why the weatherobserverIhadreplaced,Sullivan,hadalwaysrefusedtogooverthere.Iletmyeyeswanderslowlybackdownalongthedistantrangetworoadfollowingitasitroseupthe

farslopeofthatdistantvalley.Ilocatedtheplaceoutinthatdistantsagebrushmeadowwheretherangetworoadbranchedofffromtherangeoneroad,outwhereSullivanhadstoppedthetrucksuddenly,andturnedaround,tremblinginfear.ItwasaplaceIhadfrequentlywonderedabout.Itseemedsopeacefulanddeserted.Yet,whenIlookeddownthereonthispeacefulevening,Inoticedthere,almosthiddeninthesagebrushinthedistance,intheemptyvastnessofthedesert,justbarelyvisible,weretwosmall,softwhitefluorescentlights.I ignoredthelightsanddroveonthroughtheaislesofthisbeautifuldesertcathedral.Thelightswere

hiddenfrommyviewassoonasIpassedbeyondthewindowarea.Theywerefartoodimtobeactualfluorescent lights, and theywere very small.At first, I thought theymight be largewhite plastic bags

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reflecting themoonlight.ThenI thought theymightbeseveralwhite fluorescent tubespiled together,ormaybesomewhitepaintorpiecesofpaper.SinceIwasaweatherobserver, Ihadstudied theMojaveWellsdesertterrainingreatdetail.Iestimatedthedistancedownthevalleytothelightstobeabout22miles.WhowoulddrivesofarfrombaseIwondered,justtothrowawaylightbulbs?Thesagebrushcontinuedonmyrightforthenextseveralmiles.ThenIpassedthroughthegatetorange

three.Ihadintentionallyleftitopenthedaybefore,soIjustdroveon.Rangethreewasfenced.Adeepantitank ditch ran along the outside of the fence. The ditch, the fence, the desert, and the federalgovernment had all combined to guarantee that, except for me, this beautiful valley was totally andcompletelyemptyofpeople.Upahead,theroadgothigher,andthesagebrushwallonmyrightthinned.Curious,now,Iallowedmy

gaze to returnagain tomyright,down thevalley in thedistance,backdown towards thebranch in therangeone road.Theviewingconditionswereevenbetter from thisangle.Still, it tookawhile for theresultstoworktheirwayintomybrain.Ittookafewminutes,butitfinallydawnedonme-thesoftwhitefluorescentlightsinthedistance,hadmoved!Nowtheywereonly18milesaway.Injustafewminutes,theyhadmovedatleastfourmilestothenorthofwheretheyhadbeen.Theywerenowfourmilesnorthofthebranchintherangeoneroad.As I drove on, I didn’t knowwhat to think. Perhaps, I thought, thewhite lightswere sheets of thin

plasticandweredriftinginthewind.Perhaps,Ithought,theyhadblownupfromPalmMeadows.Then,asIdroveon,Istudiedthesagebrush.Ittookonlyaglancetoseethatonthiscalmevening,theresimplywasn’tanywindinwhichtodrift.Upahead,thebuildingsofrangethreeappearedinthedistance.Arrangedtoformalargeopensquare,

theyhadbeenbuiltonaraisedopenstretchofdesertthatcommandedagoodviewofthevalley.Alongwith the usual control tower, the range lounge, a couple of supply sheds, the generator shack, and theweathershack,thebuildingsalsoincludedseverallargewoodenbillboards.Alloftherangeshadthem.Some 40 feet high and angled slightly, the billboards allowed the range crew to signal the airplaneswhenevertheywereworkingonthetargetsandtheelectricalgeneratorswerenotrunning.The firstbuilding locatedalong the incomingpaved roadwas thebuilding thathoused the two large

diesel electric generators.Out of force of habit, I down shiftedmypickup.The truck slowed,withoutneedofthebreaks,rollingevermoreslowly,untilmydarkbluetruckwithoutheadlights,rolledtoastopintheshadowsofthegeneratorbuilding.Iimmediatelyturnedoffthemotorandsettheemergencybreak.ThenIsatquietly in the truck,enjoyingthequietdesolatebeautyof themoonlitdesert infrontofme.Ireallyhadn’t noticed, but since thebuildingwas east of the road, and Iwasparked in its shadows, ifanyonewerewatching,therereallywasn’tanywaytheycouldhaveknownthatIwasthere.AsIsatthere,enjoyingthebeautyofthedesertforafewmoreminutes,Iwonderedaboutstartingthe

generators.ThemoonlightwassobrightIreallydidn’tneedthegenerators.Myweathershackhadtwonorth-southdoors and an extra largedoor on the east. I didn’t need the light bulb turnedon. I hadmyflashlight,ifIneededextralight.Inanyevent,Ididn’tneedtostartthedieselgeneratorsrightnow,Idecided.Icouldcontinuetoenjoy

thebeautyofthisdesertevening,thedieselmotorsweresonoisy.IcouldstartthemlaterifIneededto.Quietly, Igotoutofmytruck,andjustasquietlyIclosed the truckdoor. I likedmytruck,andIwas

alwaysverycarefulwithit,sowhenIclosedmytruckdoor,Iwasveryquiet.Iwalkedquietlyandslowlyuptothecornerofthegeneratorshed.ThenIturnedrightandfollowedalongnexttothesidethestoragebuildings,stayinggenerallyintheshadows,untilIarrivedatthebuildingontheend,myweathershack.Acrossthesquareseveralhundredfeetdistant,wasthecontroltowerandtherangethreelounge.Ontherightstoodthebillboards,somegarbagecans,andinthecenterofitallwasthealtarofmycathedral,a

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steelpostonwhichwasboltedthetelescopethatIusedtotrackmyweatherballoons.Thistelescope,thistheodolite,hadaclearviewofthemountains, thedesert,andthesky,ineverydirection.Withitsmetalcover inplace, fromadistance, it lookedmuch the sameaswhen thecoverwasoff, and Iwas takingballoonreadingsusingit.With a practicedhand, leavingmy flashlight off, I unlocked the front doorofmyweather shack and

quietly slipped inside, closing thedoorbehindme.Once inside, I slowlyopened thedoublewide sidedoor on the east. This allowed enough moonlight into my shack so that inflating the helium weatherballoonwas a simplematter. Then, tuckingmy clipboard and reporting form undermy arm, I backedoutsidewithmyweatherballoon,carrieditaroundtotheothersideoftheweathershacktothereleasepoint,andreleaseditintothenightsky.Theballooncarriedasmall,expendable,batterypoweredlightthatIhadattachedtoit.Toprotectmynightvision,IkeptthelightcompletelyconcealedbeforeIlaunchedtheballoon.Oncelaunched,thislightblendedinwiththestarssoperfectlythatonsomemorningsIlosttheballooninamongthestarfields.So,asIunlockedthetheodolitemorethanonehourearly,andbegantrackingtheballoon,ithappenedthatIstillhadn’tdoneanythingthatwouldhavebetrayedmypresencetoapersonwatchingfromashortdistance.Theballoonreadingshadtobetakenpreciselyoneminuteapart.Todothis,Ihadtoperiodicallyread

mywatch.ForthisIusedmyflashlightinaspecialmanner.Inowhadmynightvision,soIneededonlyatinyquantityoflightfrommyflashlight.Togetthislight,Iwouldpressthelensofmyflashlightupagainstmyleftarm.Atinyquantityoflightwouldescapethroughtheredplasticlensholder.Thiswasjustenoughtoallowmetoreadmywatch.Atfirst,Iwasn’tthinkingmuchaboutit,butithappenedthatforthefirstseveralminutes,asIwasreadingmywatch,mybodywasconcealingthistinybitoflightfromtheviewofanyonenorth,east,south,orwestofmytheodolite.Itdidn’tseemimportantatthetime.Lookingthroughthetheodolitewastiringonmyeyes.InbetweenreadingsIwouldtakemyeyesaway

fromtheeyepiece,andgazearoundatthevalley.Ilovedtowatchthestarsanddreamofhome.Itwassorelaxing.Ididn’tmovearoundatall.Rather,Iwasstanding,leaningpeacefullyupagainstthemetalstandthatheldthetheodolite.Isuppose,Iblendedinwiththetheodoliteitself.Somethingdowntothesoutheastcaughtmy gaze.Ranges one and twowere down towards the southeast.A rise in the elevation of thedesertpartlyobstructedmyviewofthebeautifulsagebrushcoveredmeadowsthatlaybetweenme,andthetwodistantranges.Atfirst,Iwasn’tsurejustwhatIhadseen.Itlookedlikethesagebrushdottedhorizoninthedistance

hadmoved.Atfirst,Ididn’tpaymuchattentionandwentbacktotakingmyreadings.Then,afteracoupleofminutes,Ihadsomefreetimeandmygazereturnedtothesoutheastdeserthorizon.Waydownthere,probablysevenmilesdistant,wasalargesoftfluorescentwhitepatchofsomething,driftingslowlyandsilentlytowardsme.WhenIlookedatitthroughthetheodolite,at75powermagnification,itappearedtohaveatallfrontpartandashorterpartbehindit.Itsshapewasveryfilmyandindistinct,evenmorethanthisgreatdistancewouldimply,butsometimesitseemedtohavetheshapeofalargehorsewithatail,floatinggentlyinthewind.Ittookawhileforthemagnitudeofthisobservationtoregister.TheweatherballoonthatIhadreleased

wasstillperfectlyaboveme.Theresimplywasn’tanywind.MemoriesofDwight’s stories started to filter intomymind. I rememberedhowserioushehadbeen

whenhe swore tome thathe’d seena large,white, fluorescenthorsewithextra long, radioactivehairroamingaboutonrange four,northofwhere Iwasstanding. I rememberedhowheswore that the lightlookedlikethesoftlightfromtheradioactivedialofhiswatch,whichglowedinthedark.Irememberedhowhesworethathe’dseenitdrifting,eventhoughtherewasnowind.IcontinuedtowatchthedistantwhitepatchasitclosedthedistancebetweenwhereitdriftedandwhereIwaited.Itwasdriftingstraight

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towardsme.Nowitwassixmilesaway,closingtofiveandhalf.Finally,onlyfivemilesofsagebrushseparateditfromme.Mycuriositywasstartingtoawaken.Itooksomemoreballoonreadingswithmytheodolite.Inbetween

my readings, I continued towatch the distantwhite patchwithmy bare eyes as it slowly and silentlycontinuedtodrifttowardsme.Thedistancekeptclosing,steadily,relentlessly.Attwoandahalfmiles,Icouldseethatthesingle,largewhitepatch,wasactuallytwopatches.The

twopatchesweredriftingonebehindtheother,silently,slowly,steadilytowardsme.Now,theylookedlikeaverytallprospectorbeingfollowedbyhisburro.Thefrontpatchwasmaybesixorsixandahalffeet tall.Thesecondpatchwasnoticeablyshorter.I

madeitouttobemaybefourandahalf,orfivefeettall.Thedistancecontinuedclosing.There was a little used gravel road that connected range three with ranges one and two. The road

meandereddownacrossthedeserttothesoutheast,likeanotheraisleinthecathedral,untilitconnectedup with the range two road. Suddenly, I realized that the two soft white fluorescent patches weren’tdriftingoverthesagebrush.Thesagebrushinmostplaceswasverythick.Thesagebrushstoodmorethanfourfeettall,andineffect,formedawallalongbothsidesoftheoldgravelroad.Thewhitepatchesweredriftingalongthisoldgravelroad.Therefore,theyweredriftinginalaneinbetweenthesagebrushplants.My mind suddenly realized that this old road formed a lane through the sagebrush that continued

unbroken, right up to the open square of buildings where I stood. I realized that these two whitefluorescentpatcheswould soonbedrifting rightup tome, close enough forme to reachout and touchthem.Notknowingwhattheywere,Ibegantofeelalittlenervous.Itookanotherballoonreading.Thedistancetothewhitepatcheskeptclosing.Idecidedtorotatethe

theodoliteandfocusitinonthewhitepatches,nowlessthanamiledistant.Throughthetheodolite,usingamagnificationof75, Icouldsee the tallone in front.Talland thinandvery indistinct, itappeared tohavea largeroundhead, twoarms,shoulders,abody, twolegs,andfeet. Itseemedtobestandingandbalancingitselfonsometypeofplatformthatfloated18inchesabovethegravelroad.Onitsotherwisefeaturelessfacecouldbeseentwolargewideeyeslits.Itappearedtobewearingasuitofsomekindwithalargewhitefluorescenthelmet.Thesuititworegaveoffthesoft,white,fluorescentlight,anditsbodyblottedoutthestarsbehindit.Thelightitgaveoffwassosoftanddim,thatitilluminatedthegravelroadandthesagebrushforonlyafewfeetnext to theroad.Thewhitepatchbehindit lookedthesameway,onlysmaller.Therewasariseouttherewherethedesertchangedelevation.Thedriftingpatchescontinuedtowards

me, turning awaymomentarily, now, to float up the road through the gate into the skip bomb area thatadjoinedthebuildingarea, thenturningbacktowardsmeastheycontinuedtheirslow,silent,relentlessapproach.Ididn’tknowwhattodoorwhattomakeofit.IneededsomekindofproofthatwhatIwasseeingwasreal.Afterthinkingaboutthingsforaminute,I

decidedtotestmyeyesight.Ifocusedmytheodoliteonaplantnexttotheroadinfrontoftherelentlesslyadvancingwhitefluorescentpatches.Ichoseaplacethatwasstillindeepdarkness,andIwasabsolutelycertainthatitwasaplaceIhadneverlookedwithmytheodolite,orseeninperson.Iturnedmyweathersheetovertothecleanbackside.Iquicklyrecordedthetheodolitereadingsofthisdarkplaceundertheplants,sothatIcouldlocateitagaininthedaytime.Ireasonedthatifmymindwereplayingtricksonme,Iwouldn’tbeabletoproduceanaccuratepictureofwhatwasinthisdarkplace.Afterall,IreasonedthatIcouldn’taccuratelydrawapictureofareallifescenethatIhadneveractuallyseen.Withoutmovingmy theodolite, Iwaited for thewhite fluorescentcreatures to reach thatplace in the

gravelroad.Astheyapproachedit,thelightgivenofffromtheirsuitsilluminatedthesagebrushinawaythatmoonlightandsunlightnevercould.Astheypassedbythatplaceintheroad,Iquicklysketchedthe

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viewthroughmytheodoliteonthebackofmyweatherform.Itwasasketchofagnarledsagebrushplant,theplantsaroundit,thedirtandrocksunderneathit,andthetracksinthedirtroadoutinfrontofit.Asthewhitefluorescentcreaturespassedby,Iusedmytheodolitetomeasurethatheightabovethegravelroad.No portion of their feet or equipment touched the ground, or raised any dust as they passed. Mycomputations showed that exactly 7 inches separated the bottom of their equipment and the top of thegravelrocksontheroad,andalsoshowedthatthetopofthetallestcreaturewasexactly6feet9inchesabovetheground,andthetopofthesecondcreaturecameexactlyattheshoulderofthetallestcreature,5feet7inchesabovetheground.AsIstoodtherebymytheodolite,ponderingthisstartlingsituationthatwasrapidlyenvelopingme,I

realized that Ineeded tocheckmywatch to see if itwas time for anotherballoon reading.As I stoodthere,Iwasstandingupright,leaningagainstthesteeltheodolitestand,facingtheoncomingwhitepatches.Ihadbecomeafraidtoturnmybackinthatdirection,andIdidn’tknowwhattodonext.Myleftarm,

withmywatchonit,wasoutstretched.IwantedalittlelightsoIcouldseethedialonmywatchasthecreaturesnowclosedtolessthananeighthofamile.Asusual,Ihadturnedmywatcharoundsothatthedial layagainst the insideofmy leftwrist.Asusual, Ipressed the lensofmy flashlightupagainst theinsideofmylowerleftarm,asthecreaturesnowclosedtolessthan200yards.Iturnedmyflashlightonmomentarily,andturnedawaytoreadmywatch.ThenIturnedmyflashlightoff.Thelighthadbeenonfornomorethanoneortwoseconds.Onlyatinyfractionoflightfromtheflashlighthadescaped.Onlythetinniest fraction of that tiny fraction could have traveled any distance, out over the sagebrush, downtowardsthesoutheast.Yet,whenIreturnedtolookingatthesoftwhitefluorescentpatchesthathadspentthe last 90minutes drifting relentlessly towardsme, mymind went numbwith shock. The two whitepatcheswerenolongerdriftingtowardsme.Inasudden,jerky,anduncoordinatedfashion,thetwowhitefluorescent patches retreated swiftly, amile back down the gravel road to the placewhere the desertchangedelevation.There,bybendingdown,theyconcealedthemselvesfrommyview.Ididn’t have the faintest ideawhat tomakeof it all.The twowhitepatcheswerenowoutof sight,

apparentlyhiding in thedistance,downin thesagebrush.SinceIhadmypickup truck, I toyedwith theideaofdrivingdowntheretoseethesethingscloseup.Istillsupposedthesepatcheswerelargepiecesofplastic, reflecting themoonlight. Such pieces of plastic would be dangerous to the low flying planeswhichusethegunneryranges,soIsupposedthatIwoulddriveoverthere,grabholdofthewhitepatches,andthrowthemintothebackofmypickuptruck.ThenIwouldbringthemuptothetwowaitinggarbagecansthatsatoverbythebillboards.There,Isupposed,Iwouldtearthemintopieces,andstuffthemintothegarbagecans.Afterthinkingthesethoughts,mymindseemedtobecomefilledwithaterriblefearofthegarbagecans.Yet,itwasanunusuallysimplematterformetowipethisfearfrommymind.Usingmytheodoliteandthe75powerlens,IfocusedinonthepatchofsagebrushwhereIhadlastseen

thetallwhitepatchdisappear.Occasionally,Icouldseethetopofitshead,downtojustbelowitseyes.Thetopofitsheadwouldappearmomentarilyabovethesagebrush,anditappearedtobelookingatme.Then itwoulddisappear.Sometimes it seemedas thougha largewhitecatwas lookingatmeover thesagebrush. After both patches had done this three or four times, they ducked down permanently andremainedtotallyhidden.Iwasnumbwithshock.Ihadalmostgivenupbelievingmyeyes.Ireturnedthetheodolitetotracking

theballoon.Inordertorestmyeyesandtoregainconfidenceinmyvision,Ibegantolookaroundtherestofthevalley.Apavedroadwentfromthecontroltowerarea,straighteastpastthebillboards,downpastthestrafingtargets,downtoanammunitionstoragebunkerlocatedonthesideofthemountaintotheeast.Iknewthebunkerwasoneandaquartermilesdistant.AsIgazedover there,more torestmyeyes thananythingelse,suddenlyIsawathirdpatchofsoftwhitefluorescentlightdriftingslowlynortheastupout

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of thevalleyand towards theammunitionbunker.As it reached thehigherground, the fluorescenthazesurroundingitsuddenlycleared,andrevealedatallthinmandressedinachalkwhitealuminumjumpsuit,withasimpleopenhelmet.Hecontinuedwalking,takingunusuallyhighsteps,bringinghiskneesalmostup to hiswaist.He reached the ammunitionbunker in only a few steps.He stopped there, andwaitedbehindit.ThenIletmygazerunnorthfromthere,upalongthefoothillsofthemountainstoalowgentlysloping

ridgeoverlookingasmalldeep,narrowvalleyanothermileorsoaway.Tomytotalsurprise,twomoresoftwhitefluorescentpatchesweredriftingsouthinhurriedandintentfashionalongthemountainstojoinupwiththethirdwhitehumanoidman,allintotalsilence.Icheckedtherestofthevalley.Ibecamecertainthatmyeyeswereworkingperfectly.Nowhereelsein

thevalleywere thereanywhitepatches tobeseen.Mymindnowstartedhaving thoughts that Iwasn’tsureweremyown.Thesethoughtswerefragmentedandindistinct.Itremindedmeoftryingtolistentoaradiowhere the transmitterwas almost out of range. I began thinking, “The lights scare you.There isnothingthere.Standcalmly.Watchtheballoon.”It all seemed like good advice. The sudden appearance of the white patches was making me very

nervous,so,Idecidedtonotlookaroundanymoreforawhileandtogobacktotrackingmyballoon.Atleastitwouldhelpmecalmdown,Ithought.Ididn’tneedanymorereadings,butforamoment,Isuddenlyseemed to be afraid of everything, as suddenly as a light switch being flipped. I was afraid to stoptrackingmyballoon.Iwasafraidtowalktothegeneratorshed.Iwasafraidtostartthegenerator.Iwasafraidtostartmytruckanddriveintotown.Iwasafraidtowalktomyweathershack.Foramoment,Iwasreallyinaquagmireoffear.Then,afterafewmomentsoffear,Ishruggeditoff,andwasstunnedandsurprisedathoweasilythe

fear disappeared.Real feelings of fear release adrenaline into the blood stream.Real feelings of fearcan’tpossiblygoawaythatfast,Ireasonedbecauseittakesseveralminutesforthebloodtocleanitselfoftheadrenaline.IwonderedhowcouldIpossiblyfeelthatmuchfearsoquickly,and,yet,nothaveanyadrenalineinmybloodstream?Itooksomemorereadingsandtriedtocalmdown.Ithoughtaboutmypredicament.Idecidedthat,since

Ididn’tneedanymoreballoondata,Iwouldstoptrackingtheballoon,andconcentrateonresolvingtheproblemofthewhitepatches.Ireturnedmygazetothesoutheast.Therewasnothingtobeseen.Offtotheeast, by the distant ammunition bunker, stood the twowhite fluorescent patches that had drifted downalongthefoothills.Thethirdwhitepatchcouldn’tbeseen.Istoodbymytheodoliteforseveralminutes,gazingdowntowardsthesoutheast.Stillnothingcouldbeseen.Ibecameconvincedthatthosetwowhitepatches were no longer there. “They must have moved,” I thought, “but where to?” They obviouslycouldn’tmoveoverorthroughthesagebrush.Iftheycould,noneofthiswouldbehappening.Theywereobviouslytrappedbythesagebrush.Then I remembered that the old gravel road had another branch. This branch formed another aisle

throughthecathedral.Itledfromtheareawherethewhitepatcheswhereapparentlyhiding,straightovertotheditchalongsidethepavedroadthatIusedwhenIdroveouttothisrangeeverymorning.Althoughthetworoadsdidn’tconverge,theaislestheycreatedinthecathedraldid.AsIstoodthere,itdawnedonmethatmyweathershackandthebuildingsinfrontofmeblockedmy

view of this cross lane. I decided to move silently directly east to the cable fence that defined theperimeteroftheskipbombarea.Thiswouldgivemeaviewofthiscrosslanethroughthesagebrush.AsIdidso,therecameintomyview,oneofthemoststunningsightsIhaveeverseen.There,downalongthefence,werethetwosoftwhitefluorescentpatches.Bothwerestandingastallaspossible,floatingabout18inchesabovethedesert,anddriftingtowardsmeperhapsasfastastenmilesperhour.Thetopofthe

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talloneinfront,maypossiblyhavereachedasmuchaseightfeetoffthedesert.AssoonasIsawthem,theybothstoopedover,andturnedtowardsthepavedroad,andagaindisappearedoutofsightbehindthebuildings. They moved so that my weather shack, the storage sheds, and the generator shack, againblockedmyview.Ihardlydaredtothinkaboutwhathadjusthappened.Mybrainjustdidn’twanttoacceptwhatwasso

obviously true. Plastic bags and weather balloons don’t think and, therefore, don’t hide. Only veryintelligentcreatureswouldhaverealized,astheyweredriftingtowardsme,thattheweathershackwasblockingmyview.Onlyacreaturewitheyesightasgoodasacat’swouldhavebeenabletoreacttothetinyamountoflightwhichmyflashlighthadproducedearlierwhenIreadmywatch.Thentherewasanothersimplefact.Allthistime,sincetheonetimeIhadturnedonmyflashlight,now,

somethirtyminutesago,Ihadbeenstandingthereintotalsilence,withnolightswhateverturnedon.Allthattime,whateveritwashadstayedpassionatelyhidden.Ghostsdon’tneedtostayhidden.Whateveritwas, nomatter how filmyorwispy it looked, it had to be a flesh and blood animal, and it had to beterrified of me. Terrified intelligent animals are dangerous animals. Out here, alone as I was, theconclusiontome,wasobvious.I’dbetterbeverycareful,orI’dwindupdead.Therefore,tightlygrippingmyflashlight,Idecidedtowalkslowlyandcarefullytomytruck.Iprayed

thatitwouldstart.Idecidedthatmybestcourseofactionwastodriveintotownandgethelp.Ibeganwalkingtowardsthewest.Istayedawayfromthebuildings.Ididn’twanttobetakenbysurprise.Istartedwalkingacrosstheopensquare.Reachingtheothersideof thesquare,I intendedtowalksouthtowardstheshadowsof thegenerator

shackwheremytruckwasparked.Istoppedimmediately.There,huddlingintheditchontheeastsideofthe paved road, no more than 100 feet from me were the two white fluorescent patches. They wereobviouslybeingsofgreatintelligence,andobviouslybeingswithanextremelyadvancedtechnology.AtlastIunderstoodwhathadterrifiedSullivan,theweatherobserverbeforeme,Dwight,themajor,andtheothers.Ialsounderstoodwhytheobserversbeforemewouldnevercomeoutintothedesertalone.Atfirst,theydidn’tseeme.Theyapparentlywereexpectingmetobeontheothersideofmyweather

shack.Icouldhaverunuptothemandtouchedthem,butIrealizedthattheymustbeabsolutelyterrifiedofme.IfIdidanythingunexpected,suchasstartmytruckorstartadieselgeneratororthrowarockatthem,they’d become even more terrified. Given their obviously high level of technology, if they becameanymoreterrified,Idecided,mylifemightjustendrighthere.IdecidedthattheonlysafethingIcoulddowastostandsilentlyrightwhereIwasandnotmakeanystraymoves.Itwasasurprisinglyeasythingtodo.Iwasalmostfrozenstiffwithfear.Theirsuitsgenerated thesoft,white, fluorescent light.Theedgesof thissuitappeared tobemadeof

aluminizedplastic,andhadanindistinctappearance.SinceIhadwatchedthemtravelbyfloatingseveralinchesabovetheground,itwasobviousthatthey,thesuit,andtherestoftheirtechnologywerenotofthisworld.Nowitallmadeperfectstartlingsense.Intelligentbeingseverywheremusthavemale,female,children,

andfamilygroups,justasthesamerequirementswhenhumanswereevolving.Inorderforintelligentlifeto survive, themenmustbewilling tobravelyand intelligently fight toprotect their childrenand theirpregnantfemales,andthewomenmustbewillingtospendtimewiththeirchildren,teachingthemabouttheworld.Thewomenmustbeabletofeelfearfortheirchildrenandtoshowthemplacestohide,sothattheweakhelplessyoungchildrencansurvive.Nomatterwhatplanettheycamefrom,theymustbemorelikeearthpeoplethanIcouldeverhaveimagined.Mybrainwasnumbattherevelation.Imustbelookingatthewifeandchildofoneofthewhitepatches

waitingoverbytheammunitionbunker.Thetallandshortpatchesinfrontofmemustbeawomanand

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daughter pair, unarmed, helpless, and terrified ofme. Imust have accidentally surprised them as theywereout hiking and enjoying the beauty of this remote desert valley.Maybe it reminded themof theirhomeplanet.Beingwomenandchildren,theymustbeunarmedandImustnowhavethemtrappedawayfromtheirothermalefamilymembers.Thefluorescentlightsatthebaseofthemountainstotheeastmustbetheothermembersoftheirfamily.Mymindthoughton.Basedonthemovementsoftheotherthreewhitepatches,allofthewhitecreatures

mustbeinconstantradiocommunicationwitheachother,includingthesetwo.Thelogicwasinescapable.Theothermalemembersofthefamilymustnowberushingoverheretokillme,inordertoprotectthewomanandchild.Thisconclusionhammereditswayintomybrain.Iwouldneedtoplanmynextmovecarefullyoritmightbemylast.Idecidedtocontinuestandingverystill,nottomakeanythreateningmoves.IrememberedwhenIwasa

childgrowinguponafarminWisconsinhowIusedtoherdthecowsaroundthebarnyard,stayingbackandnevergettingtooclose.IdecidedtoherdthetwocreaturesbacktosafetyasthoughIwereherdingcows.Thetechniquerequiredpatience.Tobeginwith,Ineededtogivethemtimetoseemestandingstill.Ittookafewminutes.Istoodverystillandjustwaited.Afterseveralminutes,thelittlegirlroseupandlookedaround.SheobviouslysawmestandingwhereIwasand immediatelycommunicated this to thewoman.Another minute or so passed. The woman slowly stood up, until she was totally straight up, and

apparentlywaitedbravely tobe attacked.Sheappeared tobe absolutely terrifiedofme.As she stoodthere, her head swayed back and forth. Then the little girl stood up slowly. She, also, stood bravelyawaitingformetoattack.It was obvious to me that they were having some temporary trouble with their suits and floating

devices.Ittookthemacoupleofminutesofstumblingandfumblingtoriseupoutoftheditchinwhichtheywerehiding.As theydidso,a largeamountofdirton thesidesof theditchwasknocked into theditchbytheoperationofthesuit.Theyalsoleftsomefootprints.Thedamagetotheditchremainedclearlyvisibleformorethanayear.Thedepthofthefootprintsshowedthatthewomanweighedabout100lbs.andthelittlegirlabout60.Icouldseetheyweretotallyhelplessfortheseveralminutesittookthemtoclimboutoftheditch.Yet,I

alsoknewthat itwouldbesuicideformetotrytohelpthem,soI juststoodpatientlystillandwaited.Afterashorttime,thetwoofthem,nevertakingtheireyesoffme,formeduponthepavedroadandbeganfloatingtowardsme.Whentheywerelessthan10feetinfrontofme,theycametoanopenflatareaonthesouth sideof thegenerator shack.With thewoman leading theway, they turnedand floatedbehind thebuildings,temporarilyoutofview.Isawtheirproblemimmediately.Inordertojoinupwiththeirremainingfamilymembers,theyneeded

totravelacrosstheopensquareinfrontofmyweathershack.Theyneededtogettothepavedroadthatraneasttowardstheammunitionbunkerwheretheirremainingfamilymemberswerewaitingforthem-andIblocked theway. I tried tosolve thisproblembyslowlywalkingsouth towardsmy truckandslowlyfollowingthemaroundthegeneratorshack.Ihadexpectedthattheywouldjustkeepfloatingtowardstheirdestination.IhonestlyfeltthesamewayIusedtofeelwhenIherdedcowsaroundacornerofthebarn.AsIcamearoundthesoutherncornerofthegeneratorshack,Icouldseethemfloatingaheadofme,nexttothecornerofmyweathershack.Theyweretrappedatadeadendbymyshack,thesagebrush,andthefencetotheskipbombarea. Idecided itwasbest to turnaroundandgobackandstandby the theodolite.Thisway, I reasoned, theothermale familymemberscould seeme, and theycould see that thewomanandchildweren’tinanydanger.IhopedthiswouldconvincethemthatIdidn’tneedtobekilledjustyet.Iwalkedbackand stoodby the theodolite. Iwaited for awhile.Nothing seemed tobehappening. I

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couldseethatthewomanandchildwerestillhidingbehindmyweathershack.Iwasoutofideasastowhat I should do next, so I decided to look around and see if I could locate the other three familymembers. Off to the east, by the ammunition bunker, I could see two soft white fluorescent patchesstandingandwaiting.Theyhadfloateddowntotheotherendofthepavedroadthatwentoverthere.Thiswasthesameroadthatranpastthebillboards.Ilookedaroundforthethirdwhitepatch.Atfirst,Icouldn’tfindhim.Ilookedsomemore.Surely,they

mustcaregreatlyabouteachother’ssafety,Ireasoned.HemustbecomingovertowhereIam,inordertohelpthewomanandthelittlegirl.Then I saw him, the third soft white fluorescent patch, the one who almost certainly matched the

descriptionofRangeFourHarry.Hewasayoungadultmalestandingapproximatelysixfeettall.Hehadtakenatremendousrisktorescuethewomanandchild.WhileIwasdistracted,hehadfloatedthemileandaquarterdownthepavedroadfromthebunkertotheopensquare.Then,whenhearrivedatthefirstbillboard,hehadheldontothecrossbeamsandbracesinordertobalancehimself,andhadfloateduptothe top,somefortyfeetup.Hangingon to thesidesand topof thebillboard,hewasnowinapositionfromwhichhecouldcoachthewomanandchild.Ialsonoticedthathispositiongavehimaclearfieldoffireforanyweaponhemightbecarrying,incasehefeltitnecessarytokillme.I had no idea what to do next. I stood there in numbed shock, studying him carefully. After a few

minutes,IthoughtmaybethingswouldbeeasierforhimifIretreatedstillfurtherawayfromthetwowhitepatchesfloatingbehindmyweathershack.IstoodupandturnedsothatIwasfacingnorth,awayfromthewomanandchild.Istartedwalkingslowlytowardsthecontroltower.AsIwasturning,thelefttempleofmybrainwasmomentarilyfacingdirectlytowardsthehelmetofthewhitefluorescentmanIbelievedtobeRangeFourHarry. Itwas like turningon a radio station.Mymind suddenlybegan fillingwith softpleasant thoughts. Thoughts like, “Stand still, stay still,” began slowly and quietly appearing into mybrain.Iwasthinkingaboutwalkingatthetime,soIrealizedthatthesecouldn’tpossiblybemythoughts.Startled,Iturnedaroundandreturnedtostandingbythetheodolite.AsIstoodthere,Itriedtocomprehendwhatwasgoingon.Themanmustbewearingaradiotransmitter

and receiver in his helmet.The humanbrain is a very lowpower electrical device that transmits tinyweak pulses ofmicrowaveswhen a person thinks.Thesemicrowaves are transmittedmainly from thetemplepartofthehumanbrain.Themanmustbewearingamicrowavereceiverinhishelmet.Hemustbereceivingthemicrowavesthatarenaturallytransmittedbythenervecellsofmybrain.Theelectronicsinhishightechsuitmustbeabletodecodethesewaves,therebyallowinghimtoreadmythoughts.NowIunderstoodwhyhehadn’tkilledmejustyet.HeknewmythoughtsandunderstoodthatImeantnoharmtothewomanandchild.Now,Ialsounderstood,theelectronicsinthehelmetsofhiswifeanddaughtermustnotbetunedproperly.Otherwise,thewomanandchildwouldhavespokentome.Itwasaheavydoseof reality forme toaccept insuchashort time. Iwaited thereby the theodolite

moreinshockthananythingelse.Still,Iunderstoodexactlywhatitmeant.Thenerveendingsinthehumanbrain receive microwaves as well as transmit them. The man’s electronics must work both ways. Iunderstood,atlast,thatifIturnedthetemplesofmybraintowardstheman’shelmet,fullofelectronicsasitobviouslywas,thatheandIcouldcommunicatejustbythinking.Standingstraightupandturningthelefttempleofmybraintowardshim,Ithoughtslowly,calmly,and

distinctly,“Iwillnotharmthewoman.Iwillnotharmthelittlegirl.Iwillnotharmyou.”ThenIwaitedcalmlyandpatiently,clearingmybrainofallotherthoughts.Thenithappened,afterperhapsthirtyseconds,athoughtappearedinmybrain.Itwascalm,clear,andit

appearedslowly,atabouthalftheratethatInormallythink.Therewasnomistakingit.Itcertainlycamefromtheman.Itsaid,“Iknow.Youhavenotbeenharmed.”

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Elated,terrified,surprised,shocked,andstrugglingtoovercomemyfear,Icontinued,thinkingslowlyanddistinctly,“HowcanIhelpyou?”Alongpausefollowed.ThenIreceivedtheresponse,“Calmdown.Myequipmentwillworkbetter.”Icouldseethathewasright,butstayingcalmwasaloteasiersaidthandone.Afterafewminutes,I

realizedthatIhadnochoice.Ifhecouldn’tcommunicatewithme,hemightstillhavetokillmeinordertoextricate thewomanand thegirl fromthispredicament.Therefore,afternearlyheroicefforts, Icalmedmyselfenoughtocontinue.“Whereareyoufrom?”Ithought.Afterashortpause,Ireceived,“Thereisnotimetotalk.Wemusthelpthewoman.Standstillbythe

metalstand.Imusttalktothewoman.Thewomanmustcomeovertothewoodentowers.”I stood still by the theodolite,withmy left temple turned towards theman,waiting.Now that Iwas

becoming calmer, it became apparent that theman’s brainmust contain electronic nerves just asminedoes.Althoughthealiensmustcertainlybecommunicatingbetweenthemselvesusinglonger-rangeradios,theman’selectronicswereretransmittingthemessagesbetweenhimandthewomanashewasthinkingthem.Thismeant that Iwasable to listen inonhis thoughts, thesamewayhewasable to listen inonmine.Mybrainnowbecamefullofthoughts,asthoughIwerelisteninginonaCBradiochannel.First,therewasathoughtthatsoundedlikeitcamefromagrownwoman.“Themanwasgoingtokill

us,”itsaidinpanic.Themanwantedtotearusbothintopieces.Themanwantedtostuffusintothoseterriblegarbagecans.”“Themanthoughtyouwereplasticbags.Themanwillnothurtyou.Themanknowswhatweare.Come

towhereIam,”camebacktheanswer.“Wecannotcome.Themanwillseeus.Ididnotwantthemantoseeus.Yousaidneverletthemansee

us.Themanistoointelligent.Themanwillknowwhatwearelike,”respondedthewoman.“Themanhasalreadyseenyou.Yourlifeisindanger.Yourequipmentwillstopsoon.Youmustcome

acrossnow,”imploredtheman.“Wecannot,”wastheanswer.“Youmustcometogetus.”Therewasashortpause.Thenthemanresponded,“Icannot.Iwouldnotbeabletocommunicateback

to the Captain. The Captain does not allow it. The Captain says I have come as far as the Captainpermits.”“Whereisthemannow?”askedthewoman.“Themanisstandingbythemetalpost,”wastheman’sanswer.“Donotworry.Icantalktotheman.

Themanwillnotharmyou.”“Theman is too close,” responded thewoman. “Tell theman to standon the other side of the shed

wherethemancannotseeus.Thenwewillcrosstheopenarea.”“Ifthemanstandsbehindtheshed,Iwillnotbeabletotalkwiththeman.Theshedwillbeintheway.I

willaskthemantostandbythesideoftheshedwhereIcanseetheman,”hereplied.“Tellthemantohideinthesagebrush.Thenwecancomeacross,”saidthewoman.“Ifthemanhidesinthesagebrush,Icannottalktohim.Wearesaferifwetalktotheman,”hesaid.Thenaclear,distinctthoughtappearedinmybrain.“Standbytheedgeofthebuildingandfaceme,”he

said.“Yes,”Iresponded.Walkingovertotheedgeofthegeneratorshed,Istoodquietandstillfacingeast.Thismeantthatmyleft

templewasstillexposedtohiselectronics.“Iamstandinghere,”Ithought.“Heisnotstandingstill,”saidthewoman.“Don’tmoveyourfeet,”hesaid.“Standquietly.”

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Doingasrequested,Icalmlystoodverystill,andwaited.AsIdidso,Ithought,“Iamstandingstill.”AsIwaited,themanrepeatedlytriedtocoaxthewomantocrosstheopenareainfrontofme.Shewas

hiding behind theweather shack. Shewas terrified at the prospect ofmy seeing her cross over to thebillboardswherehewas.Then,aftermorethantenminutesofcoaxing,thewomanagreedtotry.TherefollowedoneofthegreatdramasIhaveeverwitnessed.AsIstoodquietly,notmovingmyfeetorarms,thewomanatlastagreedtomakethecrossing.Shebeganbyapparentlyturningherequipmentuptofullpower. This caused her suit to shine noticeably brighter.While remaining on her floating device, shestooped down as far as possible. This apparently helped her balance the device. Then, activating theequipment,shefloatedhighenoughtoclearthecablefenceandhighenoughtoclearthesagebrush.Withthe equipment apparently turnedup to itsmaximumpower, she began floating diagonally upwards andtowardsthemiddleofthebillboardthatthemanwasusingtobalancehimself.Obviouslyafraidoflosingherbalanceandterrifiedbymygaze,shecontinuedtoguideherpathupwardsandforwardsacrosstheopenspaceinfrontofme.Shewasshoutinginterrorsometimes,forhimtohelpher.Asshenearedthebillboard,sheraisedherrightarmslowly.Hereachedoutandgrabbedherhand.Now,at last,hewasabletohelpthewomantoasafeplacebehindthebillboard.Asshefloated,withhishelp,aroundtheeastsideofthebillboard,some35feetabovethedesert, therecouldbenodoubtthatshehadbeenentirelyovercomewithfearofme.Hekeptreassuringher,“Calmdown.Youwillfeelbetter.Themancannotharmyounow.”Then,behind

thebillboard,sheheldontothecrossbeamstosteadyherself,andslowlyfloatedbackdowntowardstheground,untilshefloatedonly18inchesabovethepavementwhichwasbehindthebillboard.Throughitall,Istoodquiet,still,andquitedumbfounded.Nowhebegancoaxingthegirltocomeacrosstheopenarea.Thiswasobviouslyamucheasiertask.“He is standing still,” he said to the girl. “Theman will not harm you. Theman did not harm the

woman.Comeassoonasyouareready.”“Isitallrightifthemanseesme?”askedthegirl.“Yes,”hesaid.“Themanhasalreadyseenyou.”“CanImakeit?”askedthegirl.“Yes,” he said. “The Captain says if you fall, I can come to get you. Thewoman canmaintain the

communicationlink.”“Iamcomingnow,”saidthegirl.Now,thegirl,likethewomanbeforeher,turnedhersuituptofullpower.Stoopedoverlikethewoman

beforeher.Withhersuitshiningbrightly,shefloatedoverthecablefence.Then,floatingafewfeetabovethesagebrush,shebegancrossingtheopenareainfrontofme.Shewasobviouslylessafraidofmethanthewomanhadbeen.Therefore,shestayedmuchlowerdownthanthewomanhad.Herthoughts,bywayoftheman’selectronics,keptappearinginmybrain.Sheseemedtobereassuringherselfbytellinghim,“Iknowthemanwillnotharmme.Themandidn’tharmthewoman.Themanhasnoreasontoharmme.”Reachingthewestsideoftherowofbillboards,shefloatedaroundbehindthem,andfloateddownthe

pavedareabehindthemuntilshewassafelyfloatingnexttothewoman.Iremainedstandingquietly,stilltryingtograspthedramathathadjustunfolded.Afterseveralminutesofcalmingdown thewomanand thegirl, themansaid tome,“Youmaymove

now.Thankyouforstandingstill.”“IsthereanythingelseIcandotohelpyou?”Iasked.“No,”hesaid.“Youhavebeenveryhelpful.Thewomanneedstoresthereforashorttime.Thenwe

willgobacktothemountain.Imustrepairtheequipmentnow.”“IwillgotomybuildingandcomputethewindswhichIhavemeasured,”Isaid.

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“Yes,”hereplied.“Thankyouforunderstandingus.Thankyouforyourhospitality.”Withthat,Iwalkedslowlytothetheodolitestand,andpickedupmyclipboard,mypapers,andmywind

measurements.ThenIwalkedslowlyovertomyweathershack,openedthedoor,andwentinside.Ileftthe side door open so that the light of the stars could enter, and I closed the front door. The man’selectronicsapparentlydidn’tworkwhenIwasinsidethebuilding.OnceinsideIcouldnolongertellwhathewasthinking.Afraidtoturnonmyflashlightandstillshakyfrommyexperience,Isatdownquietlyforawhileandjustrested.EveryfewminutesIwouldtakeaquicklookoutthesidedoortoseehowthingswerecomingbehind

thebillboards.Theman,apparentlytrustingme,hadfloateddownfromthetopofthebillboardtowherethewomanandthegirlwere.There,behindthebillboard,heappearedtobeadjustingthewoman’ssuitandherelectronics.Atthetime,shehadapparentlyturnedhersuitoffandappearedtohavetakenallorpart of it off. I could see her surprisingly thin form, chalky white skin, long blonde hair, and whatappearedtobedeepblueeyes.Atthetime,shewasactuallystandingonthepavement.Later,themanappearedtobedoingthesameforthelittlegirl.Standingonthepavement,outofhersuit,

shelookedlikeasmall,nearperfectduplicateofthewoman.Afteranother30minutesorsohadpassed,themanhadthemsuitedupandformedupliketwoschoolchildren.Thethreeofthemseemedsohappytobe together as they prepared to float out from behind the billboards.Realizing that theywanted to bealone,Iwentbacktomychairandsatdownforafewminutes.Aftersometimehadpassed,Icouldseethe three of them in the distance, floating happily down the paved road. It felt as if theywere almostsinging as they headed towards the other two white patches that waited for them at the end of thepavement.Whenthe threeof themwere justoveraquartermiledistant, Idecidedthat itwouldbeall right if I

wentoutandstartedthedieselelectricgenerator.AsIlefttheweathershack,onceagainIcouldreceivetheman’sthoughts.Now,however,Icouldreceivethethoughtsofthewomanandthegirltoo.Thewomanwassaying,“Themansawus.Themansurprisedus.Weweresoluckythemanunderstoodus.Theothermenwouldhavekilledus.”Hewasresponding,“Yes.Wewereverylucky.Thismanismuchmoreintelligentthantheothermen.

ThismanknewIwastherebeforehesawme.BeforeIcouldcommunicatewiththisman,heknewthatIplannedtokillhimifhetouchedyou.Ihaveneverseenamanthatintelligent.”“Myequipmentwouldnotcommunicatewiththeman.IcouldnotputgreatfearinhismindlikeIdidthe

others,”saidthewoman.“Heistoointelligent,”hesaid.“Yourequipmentwasnotadjustedforthatmuchintelligence.”“Ididnotseehislights.Whydidhedriveoutherewithhislightsoff?”askedthewoman.“Hethinksthedesertisbeautiful,”hesaid.“Heenjoysseeingthelightfromourstar.Heislikeusin

thatway.”ThenmythoughtsclearedasIturnedthecornertothegeneratorshack.Enteringthegeneratorshack,I

turnedonmyflashlightandstartedthedieselgenerators.WhenIcamebackout,inthedistanceattheendofthepavedroadIcouldseethethreeofthem.They

were just reaching their twowaiting friends.Mymindagain,began fillingwith fragmented thoughts. Itwas obvious that the man’s electronics were almost out of range. One of the white patches was theCaptain,andtheotherwastheman’sbrother,andalsothegirl’suncle.Astheunclegreetedthegirl,hewassaying,“Your triparound thesebeautifulmeadowswasveryexciting.YourfatherandI fearedforyoursafety.Whenyoumettheman,wereyouafraidoftheman?”“Themansurprisedus,”saidthegirl.“Themanfrightenedus.Themanisveryugly.Thewomanwas

terrifiedoftheman.”Then,asifgiggling,shecontinued,“Butnowweliketheman.Themanwaskindto

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us.”Unabletoreceivetheirthoughtsanylonger,Ienteredmyweathershack,closedthedoors,andturnedon

thelights.Sittingdown,I tookafewminutestocalmmyself, tryingtocomprehendwhathadhappened.ThenIquietlydecidedthatthebestthingformewouldbetoreturntomynormalduties.Itunedmyradiotosomenicerelaxingmusicandquietlycompletedmywindcalculations.Whenmycalculationswerefinished,IphonedtheDesertCenterweatherstation.Thelineswerefullof

static,butafterseveraltriesIfinallygotthrough.ItwasDwightwhoanswered.“You’reawfullylatewiththewinds,Charlie,”hechidedme.“Youshouldhavephonedtheminmorethananhourago.Don’tworry,though.IcoveredforyouwiththeMajor.Iseverythingallright?”“Yes,” I answered slowly, still struggling forwords to describewhat had happened. “Everything is

fine,Dwight,”Isaid.“I’mlatebecausethismorningIfinallysawRangeFourHarry.”“Youdid,Charlie?Youreallydid?”exclaimedDwight.“Yes,”Ianswered.“Igotareallygoodlookathim.Imadefriendswithhim.Iwasabletostudyhimfor

atleastanhourandahalf.I’mquitecertainthatIknowwhatheis.”“Whatishe,Charlie?Whatishe?”askedDwight,excitedly.“If I toldyouon thephone,Dwight,” Isaid,“I’mafraid thatyou’dneverbelieveme. Iwasshocked

when I discovered it myself. But you can tell theMajor that it’s just as you said. On warm summerevenings,HarrylikestocomedownintothestarlitmeadowshereatMojaveWells.Only,it’snotbecausehe’s a horse. He’s not a horse. He only looks like a horse when he’s far away. He has feelings andemotions,justlikeyouandI.Hejusthasaspecialreasonforhikingouthere.Onwarmsummerevenings,helikestohikehere,outinthesagebrushmeadows,whentheyarereceivingthelightfromthestars.”“Why?”askedDwight.“Ithink,”Ianswered,stammeringalittle,“Ithinkit’sbecausehecallsoneofthemhome.”Inthemonthsthatfollowed,ImarkedthatplaceinthesagebrushthatIhadsketched.Imarkeditwitha

woodenstake,andtookmorethantwentyfriendsouttoit.Ineverycasetheconclusionwasthesame.Mysketchwas accurate.Thatmeant the light from their suits that illuminated the sagebrushwas real.Theconclusionwasinescapable.Thewhitefloatingcreatureswereperfectlyreal.Still,formonthsafterward,mymind,mypsyche,simplyrefusedtoallowmetoaccepttheinevitableironcladconclusion.SometimesIwouldgooutandstandonthegravelroad,visuallyinspectingthefootprintsthatthewhitecreatureshadleft intheditch.Iwouldleaveshakingmyhead,saying,“Ican’tallowmyself tobelieveit.I justcan’tallowmyselftobelieveit.”Iwasn’tlyingtomyself.Evenwithaharshdoseofrealitystaringmeintheface,mybody,mysanity,

myvery innerbeing couldn’t accept the truth.Myorderswere to take themorning run everyweekdaymorning. It took a special kind of courage to make the long nighttime drive, alone, night after night,knowingthatsomethingwaitedoutthereinthedarkness,watchingmyeverymove.Idecidedthataslongasthewhitecreatureswerewillingtostayhiddeninthedistantmountains,orrunawaywhileIwasstillseveralmilesaway,thatIhadnochoice.Formyowngood,formyownphysicalsurvival,Ihadnochoicebuttoforgettheentireexperience.IknewthatIhadtoforcemyselftoforgettheentireexperienceinordertosurviveevenaweek,alone,outontheranges.Inordertohelpmyselfforget,inordertoovercomemynighttime fears, in order to find the courage so I could continue to performmymilitary duties, I toldmyself that it had just been a dream. I foundmyself exclaiming over and over, “just a dream.” I keptrepeating it as long as they letme, as long as they ran away, as long as theywanted only to hike bythemselves,faraway,underthebeautifuldistantstarlitMeadowsofArcturus.

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DoxologyThenIheardoneofthefourlivingcreaturessay

inavoicelikethunder,“Come.”Ilooked,andtherebeforemewasawhitehorse!

...Revelation6:1

“Well,Charlie,”saidSteve,“It’sbeenfiveweeks,now.Iguessyou’llbegoingbacktoDesertCenternextweek.We’resuregoingtomissyou.Ihopeyou’veenjoyedthisTDYuphere.”“I surehave,Steve,” I respondedhonestly.“I’ll ask theMajor to sendmeuphereagain,as soonas

possible.McIntyrewillbecominguphereMondaytorelieveme.He’sneverbeenupherebefore,soI’llspendnextweektraininghim.He’sareallylikableperson.He’llfitrightin.”ItwasanotherbeautifullatesummerdayatMojaveWells.Steve,theotherrangerats,andIweresitting

aroundinourtruckswatchinganewflightofplanesmakingpracticerunsontheskipbombtargets.ThenSteveturnedtomeandusinghisnorthGeorgiadrawlsaid,“Youknow,Charlie,Ireallyworryaboutyouspendingsomuchtimeoutherealone.Itreallyisn’tthatsafe,especiallycomingoutherebeforethesuncomesup,asyoualwaysdo.Really,Ithinkyoushouldfakemoreofthoseearlymorningrunsandphonethem in from the barracks, like all those other guys used to do.You know, of course, you’re the onlyweatherobserverthey’veeverhadupherethatactuallytookallofthosewindmeasurementsthatDesertCenter requests. I thinkyou should spendmore time thinking aboutyourpersonal safety, and less timethinkingaboutthosewindsthatDesertCenteralwayspretendsitneeds.”“Oh,don’tworry,Steve,”Iresponded.“WhenIcomeouthereat4:00a.m.,there’sneveranythingout

here.I’veneverseensomuchasacoyoteorarattlesnake.”Livingalifeofdenialcamesoeasy.“Well,youcanthankyourluckystarsforthat,”saidSteve.“Thoseotherguyswouldhavegiventheir

eyeteeth,tobeabletosaythat.Butareyousurethatnothingunusualhaseverhappenedwhenyouwereoutherealone?”“Well,” I said, “Therehavebeenacoupleofunusual things.Forone thing, thedieselshaven’tbeen

verydependable.Usually,theystartupimmediately.Themechanicsdownatthemotorpoolsaythatbothdieselsarealmostnewandinperfectcondition.Onlyonedieselactuallyneedstobestarted.Afterall,Ionly turn on a one hundred watt light bulb and a radio. During the last five weeks, however, theirperformancehasbeenprettypuzzling.Twicelastweek,whenIhadturnedonthestartingmotorfordieselone,thebatteriesweretotallydead.Itwasthesamewayfordieseltwo.Bothdieselsareconnectedtoall20batteriesoutthereintheshedandeachbatteryishuge.Themechanictoldmethatonlyonebatteryisactuallyneeded,tostartthediesel.Hesaidtheideaofall20batteriesgoingsuddenlydeadinthesummertime was inconceivable. Yet, on those two mornings, when I punched the start button at 4:00 A.M.,absolutelynothinghappened.Eventheengineonmytruckhadquitrunning.Itquitonmefornoreason,asI was approaching the buildings. I had to walk that last quarter mile in darkness, just to get to thegeneratorshack.Evenmyflashlightwouldn’twork.Ihadtoperformtheentirewindanalysisindarkness.I had to strugglewithmy telephone. It justwouldn’twork.Then, suddenly, everything cleared up.Myphoneworked.Myflashlightworked.WhenIwentout to thegeneratorshedand tried thediesels, theystartedimmediately.Thebatterieswerechargedandeverything.Mytruckalsostartedperfectly.Ireallycan’texplainit.“Thenthere’sthematterofmyplastictools.Asyouknow,myshackhasafrontdoorandasidedooron

it.Inthemornings,beforeIinflatetheballoon,Ialwaysarrangetheplasticrulersonmyworktableinthe

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shack.Asyouknow,they’reusedtoperformthewindcomputations.It’sjustahabit,butithelpsmewakeupinthemorningandgetthingsmoving.Well,whenI’mtrackingtheballoon,Ihavethefrontdoorclosed,andthesidedooropen.Usually,themorningwindsarecomingfromthesouth.ThismeansthatwhenI’mtrackingmyballoonusingthetheodoliteoutfront,I’mstandingwithmybacktomyshackwiththedoorclosed.Thisdoesn’t letmekeep trackofwhat’sgoingonbehindme in theshack.But,youknow,whocares. ImeanI’moutherealone. It’smore than20milesbacktobase.Well,onat least threedifferentmornings,whenIfinishedtrackingtheballoonandwentbackintomyweathershack,Icouldhaveswornthat thoseplasticrulershadmoved.Notmuch,youunderstand.Mostpeoplewouldhavemissedit.Forexample,thelasttimeithappened,mybigrulerhadmovedtotheleftafullquarterofaninch.I’mcertainithadbeenmovedwhile Iwasout front tracking theballoon,but I reallycan’texplainhowthatcouldhappen.Imean,I’dnoticeditspositionbeforehandandeverything.”Stevesattherequietly,asthoughknowingtheanswer.Thenhespoke,“Iknowyou’retellingthetruth,

Charlie.”Then,turningtotherangerat,sittingnexttohim,Doug,hesaid,“Tellhimaboutthoseghostsyousaw

outatRangeTwo,Doug.Itisn’tthatfarfromhere.”“Iwon’tgoouttoRangeTwoanymore,unlesswe’realltogether,”saidDougsincerely.“AndIwon’t

go out there at all at night.A year ago last summer,wewere all out there helping out on some nightmissions.Itwasgoingonmidnight.Ihadlaiddownonthesofaintherangeloungeandgonetosleep.Inbetweenmissions,therestoftherangeratshadgoneoutontherangetoscorethetargetsandhadleft

metherealone.SinceIwassleeping,theydidn’twanttowakemeup.WhileIwassleeping,somethingsuddenlywokemeup.Iwassosurprised.Ialmostdiedoffright.Therewerefourghostsstandinginthedarknessjustinsidethedoorofthelounge,lookingatme.Afifthonewaskeepingwatchoutside.Thenoneof themstayedbythedoorwhile theother threefloatedover towhereIwas,andlookedatmeupclose.Itellyou,IjustabouthadabirdIwassoterrified.”“Whatdidtheylooklike?”Iasked.“Just like ghosts,” said Doug simply. “They had faces and they were all white and filmy, just like

ghosts.Whentheymoved,everythingwastotallysilent.Theyjustfloatedsilentlyintotheroom.IwassoterrifiedthatIlaidtherescreaming.”“Hesuredid!”exclaimedSteve.Wecouldhearhimwayoutontherangeandit’salmostthreequarters

ofamileoutthere.”“AfterIbeganscreaming,”saidDoug,“Theghostsfloatedout,justassilentlyastheyhadfloatedin.”“Wheredidtheghostsgothen,Doug?”Iasked.“Theyfloatedoutaroundthecorneroftherangelounge.

AfterthatIcouldn’tseethemanymore.There’snowayIwasgoingtofollowthem.Afterthat,theycouldhavefloatedupintothosemountainseastofherewithoutanyonebeingabletoseethem.”“Idon’tunderstand,Doug,”Isaid,“Yousaidoneofthemwaskeepingwatch.”“Yes.Yousee,Charlie,”saidDoug,“Thethreethatfloatedoverandcheckedmeout,weresmall.They

must have only been three or four feet tall. The one that stayed by the doorwas taller. That onewasprobablyfiveandahalforsixfeettall.Theonekeepingwatchoutsidewasrealtall.Thatonemighthavebeensixandhalforsevenfeettall.”“But Idon’tunderstandwhyagroupofghostswouldneeda lookout,” Isaid.“Imean, Ididn’t think

ghostscaredifsomeonesawthem.”“Iagreewithyou,Charlie,”saidDouglaughing.“ButIsureashellamnotgoingoutthereagaintoask

them.”“Charlie,youreallyoughttogiveitsomethought.”saidSteveasweallsattherelaughing.“Tellme,

Charlie,”saidSteve,“HaveyoueverseenanyghostslikeDoug,here?”

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“No.Ihaven’t,”Ianswered,“But,acoupleoftimesIdidseeaparachutefloatingarounddownbythegate.”“Aparachute?”askedSteve.“Ithoughtwepickedallofthemup.Youbettertellmeaboutit.”“Sure,”Isaid.“Yourememberthattimetwo,maybethree,weeksagowhenIwasnotfeelingwell?”“Yes.Irememberthat,Charlie,”saidSteve.“Irememberyouwereupvomitinguntilmidnight.Idon’t

knowhowyouwereabletogetupanddriveouthereforthemorningrun.”“Something happened thatmorning that I stillwonder about. Itwas a real cold andwindymorning.

WhenIwentoutthefrontdoorofthebarracks,IwassosickanddizzythatIdroppedmykeysoutinthegravelparkinglot.MyvisionwasblurredbecauseIwassotiredandhadbeenvomiting,soIhadtogetdownonmyhandsandkneestofindmykeys.Atthetime,IwassosickthatIwasafraidIwasgoingtodie.AsIwascrawlingaround,Ilookedoutacrosstherunway,outintothevalley.Iwaslookingoutatthedesertthat’sstraightnorthofthebarracks.Outthere,Icouldseesomepalewhitefluorescentlights.Theywereamileorsooutinthesagebrush.Ionlygotaglimpseofthembecausemyvisionwasreallyblurry,andmyheadwaspounding.Ifoundmykeys,soIgotupandgotinmytruck.“Igotmytruckstarted.Iturnedonthelightsandheater,andIbegandrivingslowlyouttowardRange

Three.Well,whenIgotouttherebythatlittlerockyhillwheretheRangeThreegateis,Idiscoveredthatthegatehadbeenclosed.NowI’mcertainthatIleftthatgateopentheafternoonbefore.Thatwasthedayyouguysweremowinglawnshereonbase,soIknowthatnoneofyoucouldhaveclosedthegate.Well,Istoppedmytruckjustinfrontofthegate,withthatrockyhillrightbesidemeonmyleft.Isetthebrake.Ileftmyheadlightson,andIlefttheengineidling.IopenedthedoorandIgotoutrealslowbecauseIwassosick,Iwasafraidoffallingonmyface.“OnceIwasoutofthetruck,Ilookedoverbythatrockyhill.Myheadhurtsobadly,Ithoughtitwas

goingtoexplode.MyvisionwassoblurrythatIdidn’tpaymuchattentiontowhatIsaw.Therewasatallpalefluorescentwhitepieceoffilmyplasticorsomethingfloatingabout30feetfromme.Itwasmaybefiveandahalforsixfeettall.Itseemedtobefloatingafootorsoaboveground.Nexttoitwasamuchsmaller piece of plastic just like it. Itwas only three or four feet tall.At first I thought theymight bepiecesofsomeoldparachutebecauseIcouldn’tseeanythingthroughthemasyoucanthroughplastic.“Thetwoofthemwereofftomyleft.Theywerefloatingintheleeofthatlittlerockyhill.Theywere

rightupnexttoitonthenorthside.MyheadhurtsomuchthatIdidn’tgivethemasecondlook.Ididn’tlookattheirtops.Ididn’tlooktoseeifthereweremoreofthem.Ididn’tlookatanything.AtthetimeIwasreallyannoyedthatthegatewasdownbecauseitwassopainfulformetogetoutofmytruckandwalkaround.Well,everystepItookmademesicker.Thegatewasn’tlocked.Igotovertotherightsideoftheroadandgotthegateraised,youknowhoweasyitistoswingitupanddown.IwassosickthatIcouldn’thelpmyself.Istartedvomitingintothesagebrush.Istoodthere,bentover,andjustvomitedmygutsintothesand.Atthetime,IwasafraidIwasn’tgoingtobeabletowalkbacktomytruck.AsIwastrying to get hold ofmyself, I noticed that the tall white parachute was floating slowly towardme. Isuddenly noticed that it wasn’t lying against the rocky hill, the way I thought a parachute should be.Instead, Inoticed that itwasfreestanding. It floated towardme, thewayahelium-filledballoonmightfloat. It slowly closed the distance between us to less than 15 feet. I didn’t knowwhat tomake of itbecauseithadtofloatagainstthewindtodoit.IwassosickthatIcouldn’traisemyheadtoseeallofit.Iwasonlylookingatitsmidsection.”“Thatmusthave really terrifiedyou,didn’t it,Charlie?”askedSteve inanunderstanding tone.“You

wereoutthereallalone,vomitingyourgutsout,toosicktowalk,andtrappedawayfromyourtruck.Whatdidyoudo?”“That’sthefunnypart,”Icontinued.“Iwassodeathlysick,Ireallydidn’tfeeltheslightestbitafraid.I

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knowitsoundssilly,andIwasprobablyhallucinating,butthelargewhitefloatingparachutefeltlikeithad come to helpme. I remember thinking that the gate had been closed on purpose so that thewhiteparachutecouldgetacloselookatme.IrememberthinkingthewhiteparachutewantedtoseeifIneededhelptostayalive.It’sreallyhardtoexplainhowconfusedmyfeelingswere.Istoodthere,bentoverbythesideof theroad,vomitingmyguts into thesagebrush.ThenIfelldownonmyhandsandkneesandcontinuedvomitingsomemore.Atthetime,fearwasthelastthingonmymind.”“Whathappenedthen?”askedSteve.“Well, as Iwasvomiting, I had to look away fromwhatever-it-was. I remember thinking that Iwas

goingtobeallright.Ineededtogetlotsofrest,andtobemorecarefulwhenIwasdriving.Outofthecornerofmyeye,Icouldseethewhiteparachutehadstoppedfloatingtowardme.Instead,itandtheotherlittleparachuteslowlyfloatedbackaroundthenorthendofthatlittlerockyhill.Ifinishedvomiting,andveryslowlyforcedmyselftogetbackup.ThenIhobbledbackacrosstheroad,infrontofmyheadlights.Finally,Iwasabletogetbackinmytruckonthedriver’sside.OnceIgotthedoorclosed,Isatthereforafewminutes,lettingtheengineidle.Myheadwaspounding,andIneededtorest.Iwashopingmyblurryvisionwouldgoaway.ThewindowonmysidewasrolleddownbecauseIneededthefreshair.ItreallyhurtwheneverIturnedmyhead,butIforcedmyselftoturnmyheadtotheleftandtakeacloserlookatthetopoftherockyhill.Thewhiteparachuteswerefloatingontheotherside,andonlytheirtopscouldbeseenabovethetopofthehill.MyvisionwasreallyblurryandIcouldn’ttellhowmanytherewere.MymindkindofrecoiledindisbeliefatwhatIwasable tosee.Theparachutesmusthavebeensomethinglikeheliumfilledplasticweatherballoonsormaybeclothsheets,Idon’tknow.Anyway, thetopof thelargewhitefluorescentonewasroundjustlikealargeballoon.Myvisionwasstillblurryatthetime,butit sure looked like it had eyes and that itwaswatchingme.Well, anyway, I putmy truck in gear andstarteddrivingtowardRangeThree.IwasworriedbecauseIwassurethatmyfluwascausingmymindtoplaytricksonme.WhenIgotouthere,assoonasIgotoutofthetruck,Istartedupthegenerator.Well,youknowhowmuchnoisethosethingsmake.Theracketjustaboutkilledme.Myheadwaspoundingsobadly, I thought Iwasgoing tobreakabloodvessel. I stumbledoutof thegenerator shackand fellupagainstmytruck,waitingforthepaintogoaway.Myvisionwasstillblurred.WhenIlookedbackdowntheRangeThree road toward thegate, Icouldsee thosewhiteparachuteswerestill thereby that littlerockyhill.Eventhoughit’sseveralmilesdownthere,Icouldhavesworntheywerestilllookingatme.ItookmywindmeasurementsandcalledthemintoDesertCenter.Actually,IwassosickthatIwasn’tabletotracktheballoonformorethanacoupleofminutes,soIhadtomakeupthelastsevenreadings.Iwasreallymadatmyself,butmyvisionwassoblurryandmyheadwaspoundingsobadly,Icouldn’tseetheballooninthetheodolite.“WhenImadeupthewinds,Iwascarefultoshowhighwindsatallofthealtitudes.Itreallywaswindy

soIguesswhatImadeupwasn’ttoofarfromwhatthewindsactuallywere.ThenItoldDesertCentertocancelalloftheflightsforthatdaybecausethehighwindsmadeflightoperationsdangerous.Thatway,IfiguredifIweretoosicktotakeanymorewindmeasurements,Icouldmakeuptherestoftheday’srunsandnoneofthepilotswouldbeindanger.Ilockedupmyweathershackandbeganwalkingslowlybacktomytruck.Iwasgettingsickerbytheminute,andIdecidedthatIshouldjustdrivebackintobaseandspend the rest of the morning resting in my barracks.Well, I was thinking these things just as I wasreachingmytruck.Itwasstillparkedoutbythegeneratorshack.LookingdowntheRangeThreeroad,Icouldstillseethosewhiteparachutesfloatingbythelittlerockyhill.IrememberhowcomfortedIfelt.“Ishutdownthedieselsandstaggeredbacktomytruck.Then,startingmytruck,Idroveslowlyand

carefullybacktobase.WhenIpassedthroughtheRangeThreegate,thosewhiteparachuteswherestillfloatingontheothersideofthatrockyhill.Icouldstillseetheirwhitefluorescenttops,justabovethetop

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ofthehill.Ididn’thavethefaintestideawhattomakeofit,butIwassosickIjustkeptdriving.Inordertomake itback intobaseand intomybarracks, Ihad todosomething to takemymindoffmy terribleheadache.Theonlythingthathelpedanywastosilentlysingreligioussongs.AsIwaspullingupinfrontofthebarracks,Iwassilentlysinging.WhenIgotoutofmytruckandstartedupthestepsbackintomybarracks,Ican’texplainit,butitfeltlikethelargewhiteparachutewasactuallyhappythatIwassafe.ImeanitfeltliketheparachutewashappierthanIwas.Idon’tknowwhattomakeofitall,Steve,Ireallydon’t.Oneafternoonduringthenextweek,whenIwasfeelingbetter,Istoppedmytruckatthegateandclimbedthatlittlerockyhill,soIcouldseewhatwasontheotherside.Iwassosurprised.Therewasn’tathingontheotherside.Therewasn’tanythingovertherebutsandandsagebrush.Ihaven’tthefaintestideawhat becameof thosewhite parachutes. I guess I justmust have been so sick thatmy eyeswereplayingtricksonme.Ireallydon’tknowwhattomakeofit.”Steve listened to it all.Thenhe saidquietly andcarefully, “Oh, there’snothing thematterwithyour

eyes,Charlie.Infact,I’dsaythatyouhadgoodeyes,indeed.”Thenheadded,“NowIseewhyDesertCentersentyouuphere,Charlie.Anymanwhocankeephis

wits abouthim thewayyoudid, is definitely theman I’d sendup to thisplace.Anyof theothers thatDesertCentersentuphere,wouldhavekilledthemselvesjustturningthetruckaroundatthegate.Bynow,therestofthemwouldbeuptheresingingwithGod,insteadofdownherepraisinghim.”

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MisstepsHow,then,cantheycallontheone

theyhavenotbelievedin?Andhowcantheybelieveintheone

ofwhomtheyhavenotheard?

Romans10:14

The ringingbarracks phone finallywokeme.Still half asleep, “Charlie,” Imumbled. ItwasMasterSergeantWalters.“Charlie,I’msorrytowakeyousoearly.Iknowit’sonly6a.m.,andyouworkeduntilmidnight,last

night,butaproblemhasdevelopedupatthegunneryranges.ThemajorandIwouldliketomeetwithyouinthemajor’sofficeat7:00a.m.”“Yes,sergeant.”Iansweredrespectfully,“I’llbethereat7:00sharp.Istheproblemserious?”“Yes.”answeredthesergeant.“We’llfillyouinonthedetailswhenyougethere.”7:00a.m.foundmetakingachairinthemajor’soffice,directlyinfrontofhisdesk.Dwight,Sergeant

Walters,Themajor,andtheIrishweatherforecaster,O’Keefewerepresent.SergeantWaltershandedmethe clipboard holding the last three weeks of wind measurements taken at MojaveWells, and beganseriously.“Yesterday,SergeantO’Keefebrought thesewinds to themajor’sattention.This isThursday.McIntyrehasbeenupatMojaveWells alonenow, for almost threeweeks.You’re the rankingMojaveWellsobserver.Lookatthesewinds.Whatdoyoumakeofthem?”QuicklyIflippedthroughthe14daysworthofwindmeasurements,andansweredthesergeant,“Well,

hestartedoutOK.Hisfirstthreedaysonhisown,hecertainlyhadnoproblems.Iseehemissedseveralballoonrunsonthenextday,thefirstThursdayhewasthere.Thenextday,Friday,Iwonderabouthislastrunfromrangethree.ThewindslookOK,andhisreportsayshetookthemat1:30intheafternoon.Theproblem is that Iwasworkingday shift that day. I’mcertainhedidn’t phone them inuntil 3:40 in theafternoon. Iwasalmostoff shiftby that time. I remember itverywellbecause Igavehimahard timeaboutit.HegotangrywithmewhenIsuggestedthathehadbeensleepingintheafternoon.Ipointedouttohimthatthelastflightthatdaywasofftherangesat10:30a.m.ItoldhimhowI’dtriedtoreachhimonthephoneatleastsixtimesbetween2:30and3:30intheafternoon.Heneveronceansweredhisphone.Hesworehe’dbeenoutthereonrangethree,wideawakeeveryminuteofthetime.Ihadquiteatimecalminghimdown,andconvincinghimthatitwas3:40intheafternoon.Nomatterhowheexplainedittherewasablockoftimebetween1:45and3:30thathesimplycouldn’taccountfor.Hesworethathe’dtakenthe1:30 afternoon winds on schedule. He swore that he had just walked back to the weather shack andperformedthecalculationsinanormalmanner.Hesaidhismindhadwanderedalittlebit,andhiswatchhadstoppedwhilehewaswalkingbackto theshack.But,evenso, thatshouldn’thave takenhimmorethan15minutes.Then, last week, something really serious must have happened down at range one, on Tuesday

afternoon,afterhe finished takinghis readings for theday.AsyoucanseehisactualTuesdayreadingsfrom range one look fine, but his readings from range three, taken on the next day,Wednesday, can’tpossiblyberight.TherestofhiswindmeasurementssinceaweekagoWednesdaydon’tlooklikethey’reworththepaperthey’rewrittenon.LastWednesday,forexample,hewasreportingthe10:00a.m.windsforeverylevelfromthesurfaceonupto14,000feettobe25milesperhourfromthenorth.Thatcan’tpossiblybecorrect.We’vehadperfectsummerweatherthereforthelastthreeweeks.Those10:00a.m.

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windsmustcertainlyhavebeenlightandvariable,nomorethan5milesperhour,fromthesouthwest.”Sergeant Walters, smiling, responded, “Dwight, here, says that last Wednesday morning something

terrifiedMcIntyreoutontheranges.DwightthinksithassomethingtodowithRangeFourHarry.”“That’swhatBryan,oneoftherangerats,said,whenIphonedthebarrackslastWednesdaymorning,”

statedDwight,inamatteroffactmanner.“Iremembertheotherweatherobserversweusedtosendupthere a couple years ago reported having blocks ofmissing timewhenever Range FourHarry startedcominginclose.Onetimethatblackguy,BobMontgomery,wasmissingfromrangethreeformostofanafternoon. The range Rats swore that his truck was parked out there and everything, but that he wasnowhere around.Then, just as suddenly, he camewalking back in to range three on the road from theammunitionbunker.Bobwas inperfecthealth,buthecouldn’t rememberasingledetailofwherehe’dbeenorwhathe’dbeendoing.Hedidn’tevenknowthatanytimehadpassed.Acouplemorningslaterhecameintobreakfastreallylate.Hewasabsolutelyterrifiedoftheranges,andhadtobereplaced.”Thesergeantcontinued,“SergeantO’Keefe,here,saysthatthesewindswereactuallyphonedinbyone

of the cooks, and he thinksMcIntyre has been somehow incapacitated, and isn’t telling us the details.Sergeant O’Keefe says it doesn’t seem like McIntyre. We all know that he’s very intelligent, hardworking,andIknowhewaswelltrainedwhenyoulefthimupthere.Evenifhewereafraidtogoouttorangethreeforsomescrewyreason,likeseeingabunchofwhiteshadows,ormaybeRangeFourHarry,itstilldoesn’tmakesense.Ifheweremakingupallofthesewinds,he’ssointelligent,he’dsurehavemadeupbetterwindsthantheonesrecordedhere.”“Idon’tmeananydisrespect,SergeantWalters,”interjectedDwight,“andIknowyoudon’tbelievein

RangeFourHarrybecauseyouhaveneverbeenout thereatnightandseenhim,butRangeFourHarryisn’tascrewyreason.He’squitereal.BoththeMajorandIhaveseenhimoutonrangefour.”ThentheMajorstatedsimply,“Dwightisright.Justthesame,ifwedon’tfigurethisoneout,Charlie,

I’mgoingtohavetogiveMcIntyresixweeksinthebrig,andasectioneightdischarge.”SergeantWalterscontinued,“Wewould likeyou togoup there thismorning,andfigureoutwhat the

problemis.Ourproblemisthatdetachmentpolicy,whichwasgivenusbyourcommanderatTinkerAFB,Oklahoma,saysthatbecausetherangesareconsideredtobeisolatedduty,wecan’torderyoutoanotherTDYattheranges,untilyou’vebeenbackhereatDesertCenterforatleast6monthsunless,ofcourse,youvolunteer.Weknowthisisonlythethirdweekthatyou’vebeenbackhereatDesertCenter.Weallappreciatetheexcellentjobyou’vebeendoing,andweknowhowdifficulttheisolationatMojaveWellscanbe,butwewerehopingthatyouwouldvolunteertoreturntoMojaveWellsfortherestoftheweek,anddeterminewhattheproblemisupthere.”“Noproblem,Sergeant,” I responded. “I’ll take theDesertCenterdetachment truckup thismorning,

withmyTDYclothes, and I’ll sendMcIntyrebackwith theDesertCenterdetachment truck, tomorrowafternoon.That’llgivemetimetofigureoutwhattheproblemis,andtomakeupthebestestimateofwhatthewindsactuallywere.CutmeupanewsetofTDYordersfortheWells.I’llbedownMondayevening,aftercompletingtheafternoonruns,tosignthemandpickupmyTDYpay.ThenI’llstayupthereforsixweeks,unlessyoudecidetorelievemeearlier.I’lltakealongsomeextrasupplies,forms,balloons,andthings,aslongasI’mgoing.“Ihavenoideawhattheproblemcouldbe,butit’sprobablysomethingsimple.Maybehe’safraidof

the desert, and losing his sense of direction, ormaybe his equipment needs calibration.Don’t worry,major,I’msurehe’stryinghisbest,andIdon’tthinkhe’llhavetobegivenasectioneightdischarge,oranything.“YouknowMcIntyreisnotonetofrighteneasily.He’susedtolookingafterhimselfinafight.Hegrew

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upin theslumsofNewYorkCity.Healwayscarries thosetwothrowingknivesofhis.Hekeepsthemrazor sharp, and if he felt seriously threatened, hewouldn’t hesitate to use them.He is supporting hismother,backinNewYorkCity.She’shisonlylivingrelative.IknowhetakeshisAirForcedutiesveryseriously, and I’ve always been impressed with how hard he works. I’m certain we can get thisstraightenedout,justassoonasIcangetuptothegunneryrangestolookthingsover.”Thenthemajorlaughed,“Youreallydon’twantmetohavethefunofconveningacourtmartialboard

foranyone,doyouCharlie?”“Well,major,ifyoudecidetheyneedit,Ialwaysrespectthedecisionsofmycommandersandranking

sergeants,”Iansweredrespectfully.Themajorcontinuedlaughing.Then,heaskedseriously,“WhenyouwereupthereonyourlastTDY,

Charlie,didyoueverseeanyevidenceofRangeFourHarry?”Aftermullingthingsoverinmymindforafewminutes,Iansweredslowlyandtruthfully,“WhenIwas

upatMojaveWellsonmylastTDY,Ineversawanysignsofaradioactivehorse,Major,butdrivingouttorangethreeat3:30a.m.onadark,warm,andwindymorningcanbeamightyscaryexperience.Imean,IreallyenjoybeingstationedupattheWells.I’mreallylookingforwardtoanothertourofdutyupthere,Major,butthethingsthatareoutthereonthoserangesatnightcansuremakeaman’sbloodruncold.”“LikethatonesummermorningwhenyouwereupattheWells,andtherewasn’tacloudinthesky.You

reported that a small patch of what appeared to be a rainstorm without water, following you? Youreported that it floated down the road from range four, until it was only 150 feet away from you,”questionedthemajor.“Yes,Major,”Ianswered,truthfully.“Diditevertakeontheappearanceofahorse?”askedDwight,seriously,“Youknow,diditeverlook

likeagiantTrojanhorse,standingoutinthesagebrush?”“Well,yes,”Ianswered,stilltruthfully.“Yousee,whenIfirstarrivedoutatrangethreethatmorning,it

wasabeautifulclearnight.Themoonwasfull,andthesagebrushjustglistenedinthemoonlight.AfterIstartedthediesel,andhadsomeelectricity,Inoticedalargepatchofwhitemisty,almostfluorescentlightway up the valley. It must have been almost forty miles up there. It was way up the valley by themountains to the northwest, and it was coming down towards the range four buildings. It must havecoveredthedistancefromthemountains,downtotherangefourbuildingsinlessthan15minutes.Sinceitwassofarawayfromme,Ididn’tthinkmuchofit.Ihadnoideawhatitwas,butIfeltthatIneededtomentionitintheweatherreport.Soeventhoughitwasadryhotsummernight,Iguesseditwasprobablyalittlerainstorm,ormaybeasmallpatchoffog.“Anyway,Iwatcheditforalittlewhile.Itdriftedinaroundtherangefourbuildings,asthoughitwas

lookingintoallofthem.Thenitstarteddriftingdowntherangefourroad.StillIdidn’tthinkmuchofit.Afterall,who’safraidofalittlerain?Iignoreditandwentonaboutmybusiness.Ifilledaballoonwithhelium,attachedthelightfornightviewing.Itooktheballoonoutsideandreleasedit.Ilosttrackoftherainstormforawhile.Thereisthatriseinthedesert,andIcouldn’tseethefulllengthoftherangefourroad.Suddenly,aftermythirdminutereading,Iwasstartledtoseetherainstormcomeupovertheriseinthe range four road. Iwas really surprised because therewasn’t a breath ofwind, yet it had to havedrifteddownatleast10milesofroadinlessthan20minutes.Imeanthat’stravelingatleast30milesanhour,andIstartedfeelingalittleanxiousaboutmyexposedposition.“Ilookedatitthroughmytheodolite.Itwasaboutamileandahalfawayatthetime.Whenittoppedthe

riseintherangefourroad,itlookedlikeagiantfloatinghorse.Atthetime,Iwasstandingthere,sayingtomyself,overandover,‘thatcan’tberight.Itcan’tpossiblybeahorse.’“Itfloateddowntherangefourroaduntilithadalmostreachedtheedgeofthegraveledareaatrange

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three.Thenitdriftedsideways,tothewest,untilitwasoutinthesagebrush,justbehindthecontroltower,nomorethan150feetfromme,andthenitjuststayedthere.Itdidallofthisintotalsilence.“I was really confused as to what to do next. I finishedmy balloon readings, finishedmyweather

report,andphonedthestationhereatDesertCenter.Bythen,Ihadbeenwatchingitformorethananhour.“Well,SergeantAdamswasworkingtheforecastershift.Hedidn’tbelievemewhenItoldhimabout

thiswhitefoggypatchofrain.Hedidn’tbelievethatitcouldpossiblyberainingformorethananhouroutofaclearbluesky,andhewantedmetowalkovertoit,andgetabetterlookatit.“When Iwentover toget a goodclose look at it, theway the forecaster askedme to, itwould just

parallelmymovements.WhenIwalked in itsdirection, to thenorth, itwould retreat fromme.WhenIturnedaroundinacircle,itwoulddriftaroundinacircle.WhenIreturnedtomytheodolite,itfollowedme, keeping its distance. It seemed to almost be playing with me. When I looked at it through mytheodolite,itwouldhidebehindtherangethreeloungebuildings.Leavingmytheodoliteopen,Iwalkedquicklyovertowhereitwas.Igottowithin50feetofitbeforeitdriftedawayfromme.Itwascapableofmovingvery fast. Itmusthavebeen traveling20milesanhourwhen it retreated fromme,out into thesagebrush.Forafewminutes,there,Icouldseeintothemist.ItactuallyhurtmyeyestolookatitwhenIwasupclose.WhenIlookeddirectlyintothemist,itlookedliketherewereatleasttwoadultpeopleandthreechildren,allstandingorfloatinginsidethisrainstormlikepatchofmist.Theadultslookedverytall,maybesix feet,and theywerevery thinandwhite. Ionlygot to lookat it foraminuteorso,before itretreatedoutintothesagebrushandjustdriftedbackandforththere.“Istartedwalkingbacktomyweathershack,andIbecamealarmedwhenitstartedfollowingme.Then

Ibecamefrightened,andIrantherestofthewaybacktomyshack.Igotinsidemyweathershack,andlockedallofthedoorsfromtheinside.Itellyou,Major,Ihadbecomeabsolutelyterrifiedofthatthing.Itdidn’t seemas though it intended to attackme, but it just felt as though itwas intensely curious abouteverythingIhadandeverythingIdid.“Thispatchofmistcameallthewayuptothetheodolite,andseemedtofloatallaroundit-asthough

whateverwashidinginthemistwaslookingthroughthetheodolite.Thenitfloatedallaroundtherangethreebuildings,retreatedataleisurelypacebacktowardsthenorthwest.Itsplitintotwopatches,andthebiggestpatch floatedup thevalley to thenorthwest.Thenarrowerpatchdriftedbackup the range fourroad.Itwouldstopandwait,everynowandthen,asthoughitwereguardingorprotectingthewhitepatchfloatingupthevalley.Afteraboutahalfhour,bothpatcheshadreachedtherangefourbuildings.Then,bothpatchesdriftedbackupthevalley,towardsthosemountainstothenorthwest,wheretheyhadcomefrom.“Idon’tknowwhatitwas,butwhateveritwas,itcouldn’tpossiblyhavebeenanactualrainstorm.”Dwightlookedat themajorforafewminutes,andthemajorlookedback.ThenDwightspoke,“You

saythatwhenyouwereupclosetoit,itlookedasiftherewereafamilyofpeopleinsideofthemist?”“Yes,whenIwasrealclose,”Iansweredtruthfully.“ButithurtmyeyestolookintothemistwhenI

was that close, so I can’t be sure. They appeared to look a lot like we do, but there were somedifferences.Theyworechalkwhitesuitsthatlookedlikealuminumcanvas.Theyhadwhiteskin,justaswhite as a piece of paper.Their eyeswere larger than ours and spreadmore around the side of theirheads.Theirnoseswereflatandtheyweremuchthinnerthenweare.”Dwightcontinuedinbigbrotherlytones,“Charlie,yougotacloserandbetterlookatrangefourHarry

thananyweatherobservereverhas.Youbecareful,Charlie.Beverycareful.”“ButIthoughtyousaidthatRangeFourHarrywasalargeradioactivehorse?”IaskedDwight.“That’showheappearedtoTheMajorandI,becausehewasoveramileawayatthetime.Helooked

to us theway he looked to youwhen that patch ofmist topped the rise in the range four road. Steve,

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though,headoftherangerats,hasalwaysmaintainedthatwhenyougetupclosetohim,helooksmorelikeapersonoragroupofpeoplethanahorse.”ThenSergeantWalters said, “Charlie, even though I’venever seenRangeFourHarry, allofushere

havelearnednottodisbelieveyouwhenyouturninanobservation.Irememberafewmonthsback,onthathotsummermorningwhenitwasclearasabelldownhereatDesertCenter,andyoureportedthattherangesweretotallyfoggedin,withabsolutelynovisibility.Noneofusbelievedyouwhenyouorderedtherangesclosedtoallaircraftflyingbelow20,000feet.”“Yes.On the 4:30 run, I couldn’t even see theweather shackwhen Iwas 15 feet away from it,” I

answeredrespectfully,“MybarometerwaschangingsorapidlythatIdidn’tbelievemyaltimetersettingwasofanyuse,soIdidn’twantanyplanescomingbelowthemountains into theMojaveWellsvalleyuntilthesunhadachancetoburnthefogoff.”SergeantWalters continued, “Well, I remember howwe all thought that you had been drinking, and

maybeweren’tsoberenoughtobereportingtheweather.Irememberhowallofuswereinagreement,andsentthosesixF105airplanesupforlowlevelstrafingandskipbombinglessonsanyway.Iremembereven talkingwith theDesertCenter tower, andgiving them theOK to launch theplanes, afteryouhadphonedthetowerandorderedalloftheflightscanceled.”ThenSergeantO’Keefespokeup,“Thatbirdcolonelthatwasleadingtheflight,burneduswhenhegot

back.IrememberhimshowingupherewiththeDesertCenterbasecommander,andchewingusuponesideanddowntheother.ThetoweroperatorwhoOK’edtheflightwasgivenanarticle15disciplinaryhearing,anddemotedonegrade.Theyplayedbacktherecordingofyouorderingtherangesclosedandstatingwhy,andtheoperatordidn’thavealegtostandonforOK’ingtheflight.”Then the major interjected, “Remember that surprise inspection which the Inspector General from

Tinker pulled on us, after that Colonel complained all the way up the line. He claimed that the fogobscuredthetopofMountBaldyandoneofhismenmissedthepeakbylessthan50feet.IgotsickofansweringquestionsfromthatInspectorGeneral.”ThenSergeantWalterssaidinfatherlytones,“Whenyou’reupthere,remember,Charlie,youcancall

anyoneofushereat thestation,orathome,anytime.Ifyoushouldeverdecide thatyouwantasecondobserveruptherewithyou,justphoneDwight,orthemajor,orme.We’llsendsomeonelikeDwightorPaynerightuponthesameday.”“Thanks,Sergeant,”Ireplied.“Thanks,allofyou.I’llrememberthat,butdon’tworryaboutme.I’llbe

justfine.There’snothinguptherethat’sgoingtohurtme.”ThenDwightsaid,seriously,“Ihopeso,Charlie.Isurehopeso.”The meeting ended as abruptly as it had begun. I checked out the Desert Center detachment truck,

stoppedby the supplywarehouse for sixmonthsofweather forms, a coupleofboxesofbatteries, andseveralboxesofextraballoons.Then,Istoppedoffatmybarracksformyclothes,myshavingkit,andmyuniforms.Myroommate,Payne,was justgettingup.“What’sup?Charlie,”heasked.Paynestood6'2”,weighed260lb.,allmuscle.Hewasbuiltlikeatank.Whenhewasinapleasantmood,mostmenwantedtokeephimthatway.Iwasnoexception.“It’sMcIntyre,”Iansweredineventones.“He’sinsomekindoftroubleupatMojaveWells.Something

musthave scaredhim,out on the ranges, andnow thewindshe’s sending in areuseless. If I don’t dosomething fast, themajorwill courtmartial him.He’ll get brig time and a section eight discharge forsure.”“Yeah, Iagreewithyou,”answeredPayne.“IcouldhearWaltersandO’Keefe in themajor’soffice,

yesterdaywhenIworkeddayshift.IfDwighthadn’ttalkedthemintogivingyouachancetogoupthere,andcheck thingsout, themajorwouldalreadyhavehim in thebrig,andhismotherwouldbestarving.

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WhatIcan’tfigureout,Charlie,ishowanythingcouldfrightenMcIntyre.HegrewupintheslumsofNewYorkCity,andhealwayscarriesthosekniveswithhim.LastmonthIhadtostopafightbetweenhimandtwowhiteguys in thatbar justoffbase.The fact that therewere twoof themdidn’tbotherhim in theslightest.Then,onthewaybacktobase,hewasangrywithmeforsteppingin,butIhadto.He’dhaveknifedthosetwobeforeeitheroneofthemknewwhatwashappening.”“Isureagreewithyou.I’dbetterhurry.MaybeIcancatchhimoverthenoonmeal,”IansweredasI

loadedmyduffelbagintothewaitingtruck,andheadedoffbase.It was another beautiful late summer day, in the PalmMeadows valley. One beautiful desert scene

mergedintoanotherasIheadedacrossthevalleyandnorthwesttowardsMojaveWells.Themountainsonbothsidesofthepasswereabsolutelystunningastheyrestedintheirlatesummerfoliage.Itwasgoingon11o’clockwhenIpulledmy truckoff thehighwayand through theentrance into the

MojaveWells field. I knew thatMcIntyrewas scheduled for an11:15balloon run, and therewere noplanesusingrangethreetoday.Idecidedtoheaddirectlyouttotherangethreeweathershack.IhopedIcouldget therebeforeMcIntyrephoned thewinds intoDesertCenter.Thatway, I couldmakesure thewindshephonedinwereaccurate.IcouldpretendIhadn’tarrivedyetsohewouldgetallofthecredit.Heneededallthehelphecouldgetinstavingoffasectioneight.AsIwasdrivingouttherangethreeroad,nostalgiafloodedoverme.Inoticedthat11:20hadarrived.

Stillnoballoonhadbeenreleased.WhenIfinallyarrivedoutatrangethreeandpulledupinfrontoftheweathershack, therecouldno longerbeanydoubt.Notonlywas therangedesertedbut judgingby thelackoftrucktracks,theweathershackhadn’tbeenusedformanydays.Usingmysparesetofkeys,Iunlockedthefrontdoorandpeeredinside.Everythinglookednormal,but

unused.Isteppedgingerlyinsideandlookedaround.Accordingtotherecords,noballoonrunshadbeentakenatrangethreeforalmosttwofullweeks.Aquickcheckoftheballooninventoryshowed45moreballoons than it should have. The shelves inside held his personal radio, one of his favorite cigarettelighters,twoofhismagazines,aletterhomedatedaweekagoTuesday,andalmost$5dollarsincash.IdecidednottophoneDesertCenterjustyet,untilIhadachancetotalkwithMcIntyre.Iclosedthe

weathershackandlockedit,andstartedwalkingbacktothedetachmenttruck.Itwasabeautifuldayontheranges.Ilingeredafewminutes,justtoenjoythesagebrush,thebirds,andthesoftgentlewinds.Outontheskipbombarea,outinthesagebrushtothesoutheast,thewind,orsomethinghiddenontheground,wasmakingapathofsmoothripplesasitheadeddowntowardsrangetwoatthebaseofthemountainstothesoutheast.OffinthedistanceIcouldhearagentlebarking.Iconcludedtheremustbeastraydogorsomethingdownthatway.AsIwasclimbingintomytruck,IwascertainIheardashort,suddenwhinny,much like thatofahorse,comingfromthenortheast. Inanyevent, itwasgoingonnoon. IknewIwasgoing to have to drive fast in order tomake the noonmeal at the chow hall. I started the truck.As Iwheeledthetruckaround,InoticedoneofMcIntyre’sthrowingkniveslyinginthemiddleofthegraveledarea.Istopped,picked,itup,placeditonthetruckseatnexttome,andheadedintobase.Ittookmeawhiletomakeittothechowhall.Therewasalotonmymind,andIhadalotofthinkingto

do.AsIpulledup into theparkingareaon thewestsideof thechowhall, Inoticed theMojaveWellsweathertrucksittingthere,parkedintheback.Exceptforthecooks,thechowhallwasdesertedwhenIstrodein.“Charlie!”yelledSmokeyasIwalkedin.“It’sgoodtoseeyou.Whatbringsyouuphere?”ThecookssurroundedmebeforeIknewit.Theywereallshakingmyhandandtellingmehowgoodit

wastoseemeagain.“DesertCenterwantsme to relieveMcIntyre,” I stated.Then, realizing that criticizinghimwouldn’t

helpmy purpose, I continuedwith a fast pacedwhite lie, “We have some newguys arriving down at

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Desert Center. The Major wants McIntyre to train them. McIntyre remembers what’s in all of thosemanualsbetterthanIdo.”Smokeylaughedandreplied,“YouknowCharlie,youaresohonestthatsomedaysyoucan’tlieworth

adarn.You’reupherebecauseDesertCenterhasnoticedhowscrewedupthosewindsarethatthenewcookhasbeencallingin,aren’tyou?”TherewashardlyanypointindenyingittoagoodfriendlikeSmokey,soIrespondedtruthfully,“Yes,

butdon’ttellanybody.IfIdon’tdosomethingfast,Micwillgetsixweeksinthebrigandasectioneight.”“Thatbad.”repliedSmokey.“Yah,they’remad,”Ianswered.“Tellme,what’sbeengoingonuphere,anyway?”“Well, I tellyou,Charlie,eversinceyouleft,oldMichasbeenhavingonehellofa timeof it.First

therewasthatbarracksdownbytherunwaythatyoualwaysstayedin.Youknow,ofcoursethatnobodybutyouhaseverstayedinthatbarrackssincewhitethingsstartedshowingupinthatbarracks,waybackin1954.Well,Mic,youknow,bunkedintherewithyou.Then,acoupleofdaysafterhewasintherebyhimself,hebecameafraidof theplace.ThatfirstWednesdaynight,heparkedhis truckoverbehindtheairman’sclub.Helockedthetruckdoorsandlaidwaydowninthefrontseat.Thenhe’dlookoutbyusingahandmirror,likehe’dlearnedinNewYorkCity.Hesatthereuntilwayintothemorning,watchingthebarrackstoseeifanythingwent insideornot.Sureenough,aboutoneinthemorninghesawthesetwoadultsand threechildrencomeoutof thesagebrushnorthwestofhere,sneakup to thebarracksandgoinside.Hewasmightyscared.Hesaid theywerewhitealloverandsomethingabout themdidn’t looknormal.”“Yousayhesawawhitefamilygointothebarrackswherehewassleeping?”Iasked.“Yup.” replied Smokey. “But they weren’t white like the people in town. These guys were really

white.”“TheywerewhiterthanIam?”Iasked.“Ah,man,”laughedSmokey.“Youaren’twhite.Youjustthinkyou’rewhiteonaccountofallyourgrand

daddies came fromEngland.You’ll see.Onedayboth you and Iwill be standing up in front of Jesuswithoutourskinsonandyou’llsee.Underneathwe’reboththesamecolor.Remember,Charlie,youandIarebrothers-we’reblood-bloodbrothersbeforeJesus.Buttheseguys,man,Igotaglimpseofthemlaterthatnightwhentheywereouthidinginthesagebrush.Theywerewhite-ImeantheywereREALwhite.Well,Miccameovertoourbarracksandgotabunchofustogetherwhiletheseguyswerestillinthat

barracks.Therewere8or10ofus.Weweregoingovertheretotrapthem.Weallwantedtogivethemagoodbeating,butSteve,Bryan,andyourfriendDougallgotinfrontofusandtoldusthatitwouldbethedumbestthingweeverdidifwewentoverthere.Theysworethatthosewhiteguyswouldkillallofusforsure.SinceSteveoutrankedus,heorderedusbackintoourbarracks,Micincluded.That’swherewespentthenight.There’snoextraspaceinourbarrackssowegotabedoutofstorage.Wesetitupintheaisle,rightbythebathroom.That’swhereMicissleepingnow.”“Sowhyisthecookmakingupthewindsnow?”Iasked.“Wejustdon’tknow,”respondedSmokey,shakinghisheadfromsidetoside.“That’ssomethingheand

Steveworkedoutacoupleofweeksago.OldMicwasoutthereatrangethree,onemorning.Hecamebackintobasescaredoutofhisskin.Stevehasbeenhavinguscoverforhimeversince.”“SowhereisMcIntyre,now?”Iasked.“He’soutontherangeswithSteveandabunchofrangerats,rightnow.You’llhavetowaituntilthey

comeforeveningchowtotalkwithhim.I’lltellyouonething,he’sgoingtobehappythatyou’reupheretosendhimbacktoDesertCenter.”MyemptystomachremindedmethatIhadn’teatenyet.Thetimeforthenextballoonrunwasrapidly

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approaching.Turning to thenewcook, I stated simply, “Startingnow, I’llbe responsible for allof theweathermeasurements for as long as I’mup here. So I don’twant you to phone in anymoreweatherinformationtoDesertCenter.I’lleat,here,realfast,andI’lltaketherestoftheweathermeasurementsfortodayandfortherestofmyTDY.”Thenewcookseemedonly toohappy tohandmetheformshe’dbeenusing, thekeys to theweather

shacks,andthekeystotheMojaveWellsweathertruck.Igrabbedaquickmeal,climbedintotheDesertCenterweatherdetachmenttruck,andheadedonouttorangethree.IhadtohurryifIintendedtogettheballoonoffontime.The drive outwas uneventful, and soon Iwas parkingmyweather truck in front of the range three

weathershack.Itwasabeautifulday.AsIclimbedoutofmytruckatrangethree,Icouldstillhearthatdistantbarkingoutinthesagebrush.Iopenedtheweathershackandnotedthatthetimewas1:30exactly.Sincetherunwasscheduledfor

1:30,IdecidedI’dbetterphoneDesertCenterandletthemknowthattherunwouldbelate.First,Ijerkedawhiteballoonfromitsbox,foruseagainstclearblueskies.Iattachedittothehelium-fillingnozzleandturned on the helium. The gauges showed immediately that the cylinder was empty. “More delays!” Iexclaimed,asIopenedthesidedoortotheeast.Ipickedupthephone,anddialedDesertCenter.Dwightanswered.“Dwight!”Iexclaimed,“It’sme,Charlie.I’muphereatrangethree.I’mrunninglateonthe1:30run.

I’mgoing tohave to changeheliumcylinders, and adjust the theodolite, so the runwill be20minuteslate.”Dwightlaughed,“So,youdidn’tstoptoteaseanywomeninthebarsdowntown,likeSergeantWalters

andIbetyouwould.”“No.” I laughed in return, “But I surewanted to. Phonemewhen you finish the 2:00 p.m.weather

report.Ishouldbejustfinishingthewinds.”“Right,”answeredDwight.“Where’sMcIntyre?”I didn’t feel itwould helpMcIntyre’s case if I said verymuch, so I answeredwith awhite lie, “I

neededacoupleofnewscrewsforthebaseofthetheodolite.He’soffatthemotorpoolgettingthem.Thetheodolitewasmovingalloveronhimbecauseacoupleofthescrewswerebroken.Hewasconfusedastowhichdirectionisnorth,sohedidn’tcatchit.”Dwight laughed, “That’ll keephim from losing a stripe andgetting a section eight,Charlie, but it’ll

neverconvinceme.I’llphoneyouat2:00.”I switched toanewheliumcylinderand rushed theballoon run.Ofcourse, therewasnothing really

wrongwiththescrewsonthetheodolite.IwasshortontimesoIdidn’tpaymuchattentiontothesoundsthat I occasionally heard coming fromway out in the sagebrush. Iwas just finishing the computationswhenDwightphonedback.Heneverdoubtedme,buthedidsoundnoticeablyrelievedwhenIansweredthephone.Nowhecouldbeabsolutelycertainthatthesewindsweredependable.After I had hung up the phone, I tidied up the place. I didn’t disturb any of McIntyre’s personal

belongingsorhismoney. Iwasquite tired. Idecided that Iwouldwaituntil themorning tocorrect theerrorsintheweatherforms.Ilockeduptheshack.ThenIspentsometimestandingbymytruck,studyingthesagebrushmeadowseastof therangethreebuildings.AsIstoodtherewatchingthebeautifuldesertscene in front of me, I began to wonder if there wasn’t something hiding, or playing, way out in thesagebrush, to the southeast and to the northeast ofme.As Iwatched, I felt certain that I had gotten aglimpseofsomethingwhite,movingthroughgapsinthesagebrush.Ithoughtaboutitforafewminutes.IbegantowonderifIwasreallyasaloneasIthoughtIwas.“Oh,well.”Isaidtomyself,“I’mcertainlynotgoingtomakethemistakeofgoingouttheretocheck.

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I’mtootiredforthat.”Ishruggeditoff,climbedintomytruck,andheadedonintobase.WhenIarrived,Inaturally parked the detachment truck next to the west end of the empty double barracks. However, Iwasn’t surewhichbarracks Iwould actually sleep in.Then Iwalkedup to the chowhall. I drove theMojaveWellsweather truckover to themotorpool forgas,down tomybarracks,andparked the twotruckssidebyside.Allofthishadtakensometime.Itwasgoodtobeback.Inaturallyspentalotoftimetalkingwithmy

friends.When I got back tomybarracks, itwas already time for the eveningmeal. I spent some timewatching the large 4-wheel-drive power wagons of Steve and the range rats as they came in off theranges.Theyhadbeenworkingupthevalleywayout to thewest.Thedrydust fromthedesert formedlarge and artistic clouds in the late afternoon sun as they came in toward base. Like hungry soldierseverywhere,theyheadeddirectlyforthechowhall.IcouldseeMcIntyresittingintheseatbehindSteve.Eveninthedistance,itwasobviousthathewasterrifiedofsomething.Idecidedtounpackmybelongingsbeforegoinguptothechowhall.Ifeltthatthingswouldgoeasieron

McIntyreifIfirstlethimhaveagoodmeal.Itshockedme,then,whenMcIntyre,chosetocomerunningdowntomybarracksbeforeevengoingforchow.Istillrememberhowfranticallyheranthetwoblocksorsotomybarracks,callingoutmynameasheran.IguessIhadn’trealizedthatwe’dbecomesuchgoodfriends.“Charlie! Charlie!” he shouted frantically, “You can’t sleep there.You can’t be in therewhen night

comes.”“Why,McIntyre?”Iaskedcalmly,steppingoutsidetomeethim.“They’ll come,Charlie.Theyalwaysdo!”hecarriedon frantically. “You’re takingyour life inyour

hands.They’llcome!Itellyou,theyalwayscome!Comeovertomybarracks.Youcanevenusemybunk.I’llsleeponthefloor.”“NotevenifIlockbothdoors?”Iasked.“Thatdoesn’tmeananything!”exclaimedMcIntyre.“Thelocksonthesedoorsdon’tmeananythingto

them.They’llopenthemrightupandwalkrightin.”“Who’sthem?”Iasked.“Whowillopenthedoorsandwalkrightin?”“Thosewhitecreatures!”repliedMcIntyre,nearlyscreamingouthisresponse.“We’veseenthem,me

andSteveand the range rats,wayout in thedesertnorthofhere.Youcan’t stayhere in thisbarracks,Charlie!Youjustcan’t.”Icouldsee that therewasnoreasoningwithMcIntyre.Thestatehewas inwas just tooemotional. I

triedtocalmhimdown.Isaidtohim,“Tellyouwhat.Afterweeat,let’syouandIgetcleanedupandgooutforacoupleofbeers.Thenyoucantellmeallaboutit.We’lltaketheDesertCenterdetachmenttruckupthehighwaytothat

baratWillowflats.It’squietthere.I’llbuythebeer.YouandIcanhaveagoodtimetalkingthingsover.”McIntyre thought about it for aminute.Then he agreed.Twomeals, somewarm showers, and fresh

clotheslater,MicandIlaughedourwayuptothebaratWillowflats.Ihidthedetachmenttruckbehindthelargewillowtreesoutback.MicandIwentinforsomebeerandanicelongtalk.“Don’tworryaboutDesertCenter,”Isaid,aswebeganoursecondbeer.“Itoldthemthatsomeofthe

screwsonthetheodolitehadworkedloose.You,beingfromtheeasterncities,hadprobablygottenyourdirectionsturnedaround.Theydon’treallybelieveme,butit’llkeepyououtofthebrig.JustbetweenyouandI,though,Ineedtoknowwhyyou’renottakingthewindseveryday.”“Yes,oldman,youdoneedtoknowthat,”respondedMcIntyreslowly.“Youknowme,Mic,” I continued. “You can tellme anything, anything at all. I’d never tell anyone.

Especially,I’dneverbreatheawordofwhatwetalkabouttothesergeantsandtheofficers.I’vealways

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figuredthatoneoftheprivilegeswehavebeingenlistedmen,isbeingabletospeakfreelytooneanotherwithoutworryingaboutofficersfindingoutwhatwassaid.”“Iagreewithyou,Charlie,”answeredMcIntyre.“Youpromisethatyou’llbelieveme,nomatterwhatI

say?”“Mywordandhonor,Mic,”Iansweredtruthfully.“Whyareyouspendingyourtimepickinguppractice

bombswiththerangerats?That’salotharderjobthanbeingaweatherman.”McIntyre thought for a fewminutes. Then he answered, “Because it’s the onlyway I can stay alive

whileI’muphere.IfIwereevertogobackouttotheweathershackalone,oneofthosewhitecreatureswouldkillme.”“Whatwhitecreatures?”Iaskedinsurprise.“Whywouldtheykillyou?”McIntyre,thesecondbeerlooseninghistongueasIhadexpected,leanedbackinhischair,andbegan

describingtheeventsofthelastthreeweeks.“Don’tplaydumbwithme,Charlie.” exclaimedMcIntyre angrily. “Youknow they’reout there.You

havetoknowthey’reoutthere.Thewayyouliketodrivealone,wayoutintothedesertnorthofhere.Youhadtohaveseenthem,thewayyoualwaysgotupatthreeinthemorninganddrovealonewayoutontotherangesatnight.Theyhadtohavebeenouttherearoundthosebuildings,waitingforyou.Youhadtohaveknowntheywereouttherewhenyouleftmeupherealone.Youhadtohaveknownthey’reoutthere,”heexclaimedinangryandbittertones.“Who?McIntyre?”Iexclaimedinsurprise.“Who’soutthere?IswearMic.Igiveyoumyword.I’ve

neverseenanythingrealoutthere.AllI’veeverseenissomemirages…sometricksthatmyeyesplayedonme…someseagullsthroughtheheatwaves…somecoyotes…somedaydreamswhenIwastiredandhalfasleep…somelightsoutinthedistanceatnight.I’veneverseenanythingthatIbelievedwasreal.Who’soutthere?”Calmingsomewhat,McIntyrecontinued,obviouslynotbelievingme,“Yah,sure.Likeyouneversaw

themoutthereinthedesert,upclose.Goon,lietomejustI’mnotwhitelikeyou.Saywhatyouwant.Whereyougetthegutstogobackouttherealone,I’llneverknow.Butyoujustrememberwhenyou’reoutthere,alone,thosewhitecreatureswillcomeforyoujustliketheycameforme.Just’causeyourskiniswhitedoesn’tmeananythingtothembecausetheyaren’thumanlikeweare.YouandIshouldhavestuckclosertogetherbecausewe’rehuman!We’rethesamekind!ThefirstweekIwashere,Isawthemwayoutinthedistance,wayuptothenorth.Likeyou,atfirst,Ididn’tbelievemyowneyes.Then, thenextmorning,whenIwokeupin thebarracks,IknewIwasn’talonesoIgotoutof there. Ididn’tevengetdressed until after sunup. Then, after that night when I saw them going into my barracks, I switchedbarracksandIstartedfeelingsafeagain.ThentherewasthatTuesdaywhenIwasdownatrangeone.”“Yes.Irememberwhenyouwerephoningintheweatherreportsfromrangeone,”Iinterrupted.“That

wasaweekagoTuesday.”“I had just finished taking the last run of the day, and I had already locked up theweather shack,”

explained McIntyre. “I was walking to my truck when, as usual, I heard these sounds out in thesagebrush.”“Sounds?”Iasked.“Yes,sounds,”respondedMcIntyre,“Don’tplaydumbwithme!Youheardthemtoowhenyouwereout

therealone.Sounds!WhenIsaysounds,Imeanrealsounds!Thereisn’tanythingthematterwithme.I’mjustassmartasyouare.Ievengotabetterscorethanyouonthelevel5observer’sexam.WhenIsaysounds,Imeansounds!Oneofthemsoundedlikeadogbarking.Anothersoundedlikeahorsewhinnying.Ipickedupagood-sizedrockandstartedlookingaround.Outinthesagebrush,Isawsomethingmove.Itwaswhiteallover.Itwashidingbehindoneofthesagebrushplants.Itookaimandthrewmyrockatit.It

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jumpedbackintothebrush,butstill,Ihititprettygood.Ithoughtitwasadogorsomethingbecauseassoonas I hit it, it let out a loudbarking like sound.Then fromwayout in the sagebrush, I couldhearbarkingandwhinnyingfromallovertheplace.AllthebarkingscaredmesoIrantomytruckandgotoutofthere.”“Goodthinking,”Istatedthoughtfully-tacitlyadmittingthatIhadheardthesoundstoo.“Thenextmorning ithappened,”continuedMcIntyre,nowbecomingvisiblyafraid.“Igotupat3:15

a.m. sameasalways, anddroveout to range three for themorning run.When Igot there,oneof thosewhitecreatureswaswaitingforme.”“Waitingforyououtatrangethree?”Iaskedinsurprise.“Yes!Yes!”respondedMcIntyre,nowshowingvisiblefear.“Don’tlookatmeasifI’msomekindof

idiot.I’mjustassmartasyou!WhenIhavemyknives,I’mevenbetterthanyouinafight.”“Oh,Ididn’tmeananythingbymylook,Mic,”Iansweredquickly.“Iwas justsurprised thatanyone

woulddarecallyououtinafight.Ithoughteveryoneknewwhatagreatfighteryouare.”“Ithoughtsotoo,”answeredMcIntyre,mellowingsomewhat.“Yousee,whenIgotouttorangethree

thatmorning,IputmyheadlightsonbrightandstarteddrivingaroundlikeIalwaysdo.Iwantedtomakesurethatthereweren’tanycoyotesorsnakesorwhiteshadowsaroundthere.Well,InosoonerbroughtthetrucktotheedgeoftherangethreebuildingswhenIsawher.”“Her?”Iasked.“Yes,Charlie-HER!” answeredMcIntyre. “They havemale and female likewe do.This onewas a

woman.Shewasstandingatthebaseofthecontroltowerinplainview,waitingforme.”“Whatdidshelooklike,Mic?”Iasked.“Shewas one of the femalewhite creatures,” answeredMcIntyre, now becoming visibly emotional

withfear.“Shewasjuststandingtherewaitingforme.Shestoodmaybe6feet3inchestall.Shewasrealthin.Shewaswhiteallover.Shehadarealchalkywhiteskinwithblueeyes,andrealtransparentblondeshoulder length hair. She seemed to be surrounded by some type of white fluorescentmist or veil. Itlookedasthoughshewerestandingthereinalargepatchofwhiteshadows.Shewasholdingsomekindofweaponinherhands.Itwaslongandthin,likeapencil.AtfirstIwasn’tafraidbecauseshewasawoman.Ithoughtsheprobablyjustwantedtotalk.Istopped

the truckon this sideof thebuildings. Iarranged it so that thebrightheadlightsshonedirectly intohereyes.Shewasonlyabout100feetinfrontofthetruck,alittletoofarformetousemythrowingknives.SoI tookoneofmythrowingknives inmyhandandsteppedoutof the truck.Istoodrightbymyopentruckdoor.IfiguredI’dtauntheranddrawherinclosertothetruck,soshe’dbeinknifethrowingrange.Ifiguredtheheadlightswouldkeepherblinded,soalloftheadvantageswouldbeonmyside.It’satrickIlearnedinNewYorkCity.”“Prettyclever.”Iresponded.“But I tell you, old man,” continued McIntyre, “She wasn’t frightened in the least bit. The bright

headlightsdidn’tbotherherintheslightest.Sheneveronceputupherarmtoshieldhereyesorblinkedoranything.Shecouldlookrightoveratme,throughtheglareofthehighbeams,andfocusrightinontheknifeIwasholdinginmyhand.Icalledovertoher,‘Whoareyou?Whatdoyouwant?’Shestartedfloatingslowlytowardsme.”“FloatingMic?”Iasked.“Yes,oldman!”answeredMcIntyre.“ThoseWhitecreaturesdon’twalk if theydon’thave to.Those

suitstheyweargivethemthepowertofloat.”Isatquietlyinstunneddisbelief.“Wellanyway,”continuedMcIntyre,“Shespokeback tome inEnglish.Shewasangrywithme.She

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saidIhadbrokenherlittleboy’sarm.Shesaidtheyweregoingtohavetotakehimtoahospitalwheretheairwasthickerandwarmerorelseitwouldn’theal.Shesaidthehospitalwasalongwayaway.Shesaiditwasgoingtotakeabouttwomonthsjusttogetthere,anditwasgoingtobeaverypainfultripforherlittleboy.Itriedtoreasonwithher.ItoldherthatIhadn’tbrokenanylittleboy’sarmandthatIlikedtoplaywith

kids.Shewouldn’thearanyofit.ShetoldmethatIwastoostupidtoknowwhatI’ddone.ThenshetoldmethattheAmericangeneralshadaskedthatIbegivenonewarningbeforesheandherfriendskilledme.Shesaidthatthiswasthewarning.ShesaidthatifIevercamebackouttotherangesalone,theirCaptainwouldkillme.Asshewasthreateningme,shekeptcomingincloser.Bynow,shewasonly50feetorsoinfrontofthetruck.Idecidedtotryoneofmyknives.Isteppedtomyleft,alittle,andIletherhaveitwiththethrowingknifeIwasholdinginmyrighthand.”“Whathappenedthen,Mic?”Iasked.“That’swhenIknewIwasindeeptrouble,”respondedMcIntyre,nowshakingwithfear.“Iaimedthe

knife straight at her, butwhen it got close to that suit shewaswearing, it just slowed down and fellharmlesslytotheground.Thenshebecametotallyout-ragedwithme.ShesaidthatifIdidn’tleavetherangesimmediately,she’d

killmerightwhereIstood.Oldman,IwasmoreterrifiedthanIeverthoughtIcouldget.Ipanicked.Ijumpedinmytruckandlaidrubbergettingoutofthere.ButIhavetotell,you,oldman,shecouldn’thavebeenhuman.”“Whydoyousaythat?”Iasked.“BecausewhenIwasleaving,sheranupalongsidethetruck,lookedmerightintheeyesthroughthe

openwindowandshoutedatme,‘Don’tevercomebacktothisplaceorwe’llkillyou!Doyouhearme?We’llkillyou!Doyouhearme?Don’tevercomebackorwe’llkillyou!!’”“Butwhydoesthatprovethatshewasn’thuman?”Iasked.“Because, old man,” respondedMcIntyre, on the verge of breaking down from the terror of it all.

“BecauseIhadthetruckflooredinsecondgear.Sheranalongsidemytruck,screamingatmethroughtheopenwindowformorethantwomiles.Iwastravelingmorethan30milesanhouratthetime.”IcouldseethatMicwashavingahardtimecontrollinghisfearsandhistears.Igavehimafewminutes

restwhileIgothimanotherbeer.Whenhewasreadytotalkagain,Icontinued,“Idon’tunderstandwhyyouarehelpingtherangeratspickuppracticebombsoutinthedesert?Imean,ifyou’reafraidtogoouttorangethreealone,whydidn’tyoujuststayinthebarracksandmakeupthewindslikesomanyotherweatherobservershavedone?”Downingsomemorebeer,Micresponded,“Thesebarracksaren’tasafeplaceformetostayalone.If

thosewhitecreaturesfeellikekillingme,they’lljustcomerightintothebarracksandgetme,dayornight.ItalkeditoverwithSteve.TheonlywayIcanbesafewhenI’muphere,istostaywiththerangeratsdayandnight.”McIntyrepausedforaminute,astheextrabeerfounditswayintohisconsciousness.Thenhecontinued,

“Yousee,Steve,Doug,andBryanthinktheyknowofaplaceoutinthedesertwheretheymightbeabletotalktothewhitethings.Steveandtherangeratsbelievethatiftheytakemeouttherewiththem,maybethewhitecreaturesandIcouldtalkthingsover.ThenmaybeIcouldgobacktobeingtheweatherobserver.”“But,McIntyre,”Iinterjected,tryingtohidemydisbelief,“NobodylivesoutinMojaveWellsvalley.

Thevalleyandthesurroundingmountainsaretotallydesolate.Wherewouldsuchameetingtakeplace?”“Stevesaysitsupinthosemountainstothenorthwest,”repliedMcIntyresimply.Isatquietlyforafewminutes,rememberingthemorningswhenIwatchedthewhiterainstormpatches

floatingoutofthosemountainstothenorthwest.

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“HasSteveactuallytalkedtothesewhitethings?”Iasked.McIntyretookafewminutesbeforeresponding.“Idon’tknowforsure.LastThursday,heleftmewith

the other range rats and two of the power wagons. Then he, Bryan, and Doug drove up into thosemountains alone in the third powerwagon. Three or four hours later they came back looking kind offrightened,especiallyBryan.Stevesaidthatthemotherandthesonhadalreadyleftforthehospital,andthatnothingcouldbedoneuntil theygetback.Nobodyknowswhen thatwillbe,butSteve,Doug,andBryanarecertainthatI’llbekilledifIgobackouttoanyoftheweathershacks,withorwithoutthem.Whenyougobackoutthere,Charlie,they’llcomearound.Theyalwaysdo.They’rerealcurious.Whenthey come, please explain to them that I didn’t mean to break any little boy’s arm! Make sure theyunderstandthatI’mnevercomingbackouttotheseranges-NEVER!-eveniftheAirForceweretocourtmartialme!NEVER!I’mNEVERcomingback!”IcouldseethatthebeerwasfinallygettingtoMcIntyre.Sincehe’dalreadytoldmeeverythingheknew,

I decided itwas time to take himback to his barracks. I helped him to thewaiting truck.Soon Iwashelpinghimintohisbarracks,andthenintohisbunk.IhadjustfinisheddoingsowhenSteveapproachedme.Oldfriendthathewas,hebegan,“It’ssureagoodthingforoldMicthatyoucameuphere,Charlie.Whatdoyouwantustodowithhimtomorrow?”“Keephimwithyou likeyouhavebeen,until thenoonmeal,” I responded.“That’llgiveme time to

makeuptwosetsofcorrectedweatherreportsforthetimehe’sbeenuphere.I’llbringinhisthingsfromthe range three shack after tomorrow’s 12:30 run. I’ll send one set of correct reports down toDesertCenter with him. He’ll need it to cover his butt in the Major’s office. I’ll leave the Desert Centerdetachment truckparkedout in frontof thisbarracks.Hecandrive it back toDesertCenter tomorrowafternoon.I’llswitchovertodrivingtheMojaveWellsweathertruck.”“Right,”answeredSteve.I continued, “I really appreciate you saving Mic’s life like you did, Steve. I’m certain that Mic

appreciates it too. I was just wondering,Mic was saying something about you talking to somewhitepeoplewayupinthemountains?”Stevethoughtforaminutebeforeheresponded.Thenheansweredpleasantly,“Youreallydon’twant

metoanswerthatquestion,Charlie,notthewayyouliketodrivearoundbyyourself,alone,wayoutinthe desert.All I’m going to say is that you don’t have toworry because nowhite personwould evermistakeyouforMcIntyre.”Iwastoosurprisedtorespond.Istoodtherewonderingwhattosaynext.Stevecontinuedinafriendly

tone,“Oh,ImeanttotellyouCharlie,whileyouwereoutwithOldMic,theboysandIrearrangedthisbarracksandthebarracksnextdoor.Wemovedsomeoftheboysnextdoor.Thenwebroughtoveryourthingsfromthatbarracksdownontheflightlinewhereyouweregoingtostay.Thebedandlockerdownthereattheendareyours.”ThenSteve,standing in frontofme, thought foraminute,andstated inbrotherly tones,“Iknowyou,

Charlie.Youaren’tafraidofanything,eventhethingsyoushouldbeafraidof.Justremember,anytimeyouwantmetogowithyou,outtotherangesonthatmorningrun,ormaybemakeupsomewindsforyouhereinthebarrackslikeIdidforallthoseotherDesertCenterguys,youjustwakemeup.I’mgoodatmakingupthosemorningwinds.YouandI,we’recloserthananybrothers,andthat’swhatbrothersarefor.”IfinishedMcIntyre’sremainingfourweeksofTDYandreturnedtoDesertCenter.

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PaperbackHero...Hehastoldus

thatyoualwayshavepleasantmemoriesofus,andthatyoulongtoseeus,

justaswe,also,longtoseeyou.

1Thessalonians3:6

It seemedoutofplace,butsuddenly thephonerang.Working in theDesertCenterweatherstationatnightwasalwayslonely,butthiswasarainyChristmasEve.IhadreturnedfromTDYatMojaveWells.Lonelinesshad long since takenovermy thoughts. It seemed that noone cared aboutme and that onlySantawouldhavequestionsabouttheweather.AtfirstIwasn’tsurethephonewasactuallyringingforme,soIwasn’tgoingtoanswerit.Beingsingle

andalongwayfromhome,Ihadalsoagreedtoworkadoubleshift.ThisallowedeveryoneelsetospendthisChristmasEvewiththeirfamilies.ExtraworkwashardlyaproblemforamanaslonelyasIwasonthatrainy,stormywinterevening.Thehourshadseemedtodragon,butsomethingunusualhadalreadyhappenedtomeearlierthislonely

evening. Along about sundown, I had been standing in quiet silence, looking out the weather stationwindowintotherain,thecoldwinds,thedrizzle,andthedarkeningfogasthedrearinessofthisstormynighttimesettledovertheworldinwhichIlived.Slowly,Ihadbeguntofeelasthoughmytwoguardianangelswerestandingnearme,insympathywithmyloneliness.Itfeltasthoughonewasstandingnexttothedoorwaybehindme,andonewasstandingjustbehindme,outofsightonmyleft.ItfeltasthoughtheywantedtoknowwhatIplannedtodotocelebrateChristmasasIworkedthesetwonightshifts.Ithoughtabout it for aminuteor so, and Idecided that formyChristmas celebration, alongabout2:30A.M., Iwouldwalkdowntotheotherendofthisdesertedbuilding.Iplannedtowalkdowntowherethevendingmachinesandtherestroomswerelocated.ThatsectionofthebuildingwastheBaseOperationssection.Itwascompletelyshutdown, thedoorswerelocked,andlightswereturnedoffonthisChristmasEve.There,inthedarkemptinessofthissilentSundaynight,IplannedtohavemyChristmascelebrationalone,bybuying from thevendingmachines,acupofcoffeeandacandybar. Ihad itallplannedquitewell.There,asIheldthecoffeeandthecandybarinmyhands,Iplannedtosayashortprayerofthanks,andtoaskGodtobewithmeinthefutureashehadsomercifullybeenwithmeinthepast.AssoonasIhadmadethisdecision,itfeltlikemytwoguardianangelswerehappy.Thenitfeltasthoughthetwoofthemleftmealone,whiletheythemselveshadgonesomewhere,outintothestorm.Then,earlierthatevening,itfeltasthoughoneofmyangelshadreturnedforafewminutes.Itfeltas

thoughhewantedsomethingverysimplefromme.Followingwheremyfeelingsleadme,itfeltasthoughhewasleadingmeasIwalkedoutsideintothecoldrain.Foralmostahalfhour,feelingasthoughhewerestanding besideme, pointing towards the base of the clouds northeast ofme, I stood in the cold darkstorm. Afraid to offend God or my guardian angels on this Christmas evening, I obliged my unseen,unheardfriendbyverycarefullystudyingthebaseofthecloudsnortheastofme.AfterIhadobservedonestormpassandanotherstormbegin,theangelseemedtobehappy.Thehalfhourover,andmedrippingwet,Ihadreturnedinsidetowarmupanddryoff.Ifeltasthough

myguardianangel,however,hadgoneoff,onceagainoutintothestorm.Now,hourslater,muchasItriedtoignoreit,thephonekeptonringing.Itwasalreadyfifteenminutesto

midnight,almosttimeforanotherweatherreportandstillmorethantwohourstomyplannedChristmas

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celebration.IputdownthepaperbackhistorybookIwasreading.Itwascaptivating.ItbroughttolifethefirstcrusadeandtheexcitingheroBohemond,whohadstruggledagainstalloddstogethisfollowersintothecityofJerusalem.Aftermanyrings,however,Idecidedthat,whoeveritwas,Iprobablyneededtotalktothemmorethan

theyneededtotalktome,so,puttingdownmypaperback,Ipickedupthephone.Thenightwouldbelong,Idecided.Ihadsignedinat4:00p.m.andmydoubleshiftasthedutyweather

observerwouldlastuntil8:00inthemorning.Maybe,Ithought,myguardianangelshadsentsomeonetocheermeup.“DesertCenterweatherstation,”Isaid.“Charliespeaking.”“DesertCenter,DesertCenter,areyouthere?”screamedthevoiceontheotherendoftheline.I recognized thecaller asoneofmycivilian friends. Itwasoneof thedutyweatherobservers from

PalmMeadowsField, thecivilianairport for thecityofPalmMeadows.Thecitywas20milesorso,downthevalley.Iresponded,happily,“Dan,howniceofyoutocall.”“Charlie,thankGodit’syou,”hescreamed.“Gee,Iwishmorebeautifulyoungwomenwouldthinklikeyoudo.”Ilaughed.Withoutrespondingtomyhumorhecontinuedscreaming,“Charlie,we’reinbigtroubledownhere.”“Howcanthatbe?”Iasked.“AccordingtoyourweatherreportsPalmMeadowsFieldhasbeenclosed

since before 6:00 this evening. I was surprised that you were open at all because I’ve seen bigthunderstormsdownwhereyouaresinceearlythismorning.Imyself,closedDesertCenterforthenightwhenIcameondutyatfour.”“TheidiotbeforememadethemistakeofopeningtheairportforahalfhourbeforeIcameon.Two707

jetlinersfullyloadedwithpassengerstookofffromLosAngelesInternationalandheadedhere.Thenthethunderstormsgotworseandwhentheygothere,heclosedtheairportsotheycouldn’tland.”“Whydidn’ttheyjustgoontoPhoenix?”Iasked.“Thoseplacesareallclosedduetobadweather,too.ThenalltheairportsinCaliforniaandallover

thewestclosed.Thentheidiotkepttellingthetowerthatthestormswouldgoawayandkepttheplanescircling.Nowthey’rebothdowntolessthat30minutesoffuel.They’regoingtohavetocrashupwhereyouare.”“CrashthemupwhereIam?”Idead-panned,notreallysureIhadheardhimright.“Yes,”he screamed,“There’snootherchoice.We’regettinghail the sizeoforangesdownhereand

driving rain and lightning and the clouds are laying right down on the runway. They can’t do it here.They’llallbekilled.Myweatherradarshowsnothingbutconstantthunderstormslocatedrightoverallofyourrunways,too.Icalledupyourtower.Theytellmethestormsaresobadupwhereyouarethatthetoweroperatorscan’tevenseetheground.There’snochoice!There’sabsolutelynootherchoice!YourlastweatherreportsaidthatanysafelandingatDesertCenterwouldbeimpossible!Theyhavetocrashonthehighway,upwhereyouare!“Now letme tell youwhatmy plan is,” he continued. “I’ve asked the state police to block off that

section of highway that goes right past the entrance toDesertCenter. They’re doing it right now.Thehighway has two sets of two lanes. They’re both real straight. There’s room in there to crash twoairplanes.Todoit,Ineedyourhelp.Thebasehastwoentrances.I’vealreadytoldallofyourfireengines,allofyourambulances,andallof

myemergencyvehiclestogotothosetwogates.Thetelevisioncameracrewsarealreadyoutthere.Ifyoucangetthoseplanestocrashrealclosetothosetwobasegates,itwillbeeasyfortheambulancestogetthesurvivorsintothebasehospital.It’souronlyhope.”“Imustnothaveheardyouright,”Irespondedslowly.“Ithoughtyousaidthattwoplaneswithlotsof

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peopleonboard,aregoingtocrashoutonthehighway.”“Yes!Yes!”hescreamed.“Yes!Rightoutinfrontofwhereyouare!They’rereadytocrashwherever

youtellthemto!Thestewardesseshavealreadydrilledthepassengersonthecrashprocedures.Everyoneonboardisalreadybeltedinandpracticedbendingoverincrashposition.Allweneedisyourhelptopickoutthebestplacetocrash,andtotimetheimpactsproperly!”“Oh,theremustbeabetterway.”Iresponded.Crashingairplanesseemedlikesuchawasteofagood

ChristmasEve. “Thepavementout there isonly thinasphalt. It’llneverhold theweightof a707.Thelandinggearwillcollapseandallofthepeoplewillbekilled.Therearetelephonepolesandhighvoltageelectricalwiresout there.Sucha landingattemptwouldbea terribledisaster.Howmuchfueldo theyhaveleft?”“Onehas35minutesandtheotherisdownto20.”hesaidinapanic.“Theyhavetocrash!Thereisn’t

timeforanythingelse!They’vebothbeenuptherecirclingforsixorsevenhours!”“Wherearetheairplanesnow?”Iasked.“They’recirclingtwentymilesupthevalley,justwestofDesertCenter,at10,000feet.They’rewaiting

foryoutotellthemwheretocrash.”“That won’t be necessary,” I replied. “Have PalmMeadows tower pass them off to Desert Center

tower.TellDesertCentertowertogivemeexactlyoneminutetotransmitmyaircraftemergencymessageso theweathercenteratTinker,Oklahoma,knowsIwon’tbesendinganyweather reports forawhile.Then have Desert Center tower call me on the emergency telephone. I’ll need the tower to relayinstructionstothepilots.TellthepilotsIcanbringtheminhere.”“Right!”heshouted.“I’lldoit!”Asheabruptlyhungupthephone,Isuddenlyrealizedthat thePalm

Meadows observer still thought my plan was to crash the planes on the highway. Consequently, thehighwayremainedblockedandalloftheemergencyvehiclesstayedparkedatthetwogates.I stepped intomy teletype room,and typedupasimpleproceduremessage for theweathercenterat

Tinker AFB, Oklahoma. It read, “DESERT CENTER AFB. GOING OFF LINE FOR NEXT TWOHOURS.BASECLOSEDDUETOCONSTANTHEAVYTHUNDERSTORMS.VISIBILITYZERO.CEILINGZERO.CLOUDSONRUNWAY.RAINHEAVY.SOMEHAIL.WIND

210 DEGREES, GUSTS TO 65 MPH. AIRCRAFT EMERGENCY IN PROGRESS. TWO 707STRAPPEDALOFT, FUELSHORT,MUSTLANDATDESERTCENTER.WILLRETURNONLINEWHENEMERGENCYISOVER.”Oneminute later, my emergency proceduremessagewas just coming out of the teletype transmitter

whentheemergencyphonefromthetowerbeganringingoffthehook.Iansweredthephone.Iturnedoffthelightsintheweatherstation,andopenedoneofthewindowstotheoutside.Ineededmynightvision,andIneededtoseemyinstrumentsfromoutdoors.MonthsagoIhadinsistedthatthephonebelocatednexttotheoutsidedoorandthatithaveaverylong

cord.ThismadeitpossibletotakethephonewithmeasIwalkedoutsideontothetarmac.AsIansweredthephone,Inoticedthat theconnectionwascrystalclear.Theequipmentmaintenance

menhaddoneanexcellentjob.“WhatdoIdowiththesetwo707’s?”askedthetoweroperatornervously.Heavyrainwasstillfalling.Ipositionedmyselfundertheroof’soverhang.Fromhere,ifthenightwere

clear,Iwouldhavehadaclearviewoftheairfieldandthemountainstothenorth.Thepositionalsoletmelookthroughtheopenwindowatthedimlylitdialsonmyweatherinstruments.ItalsoletmelookatthecloudsfromalmostthesamepositionthatIfelttheangelhadaskedmetoearlierthisevening.“Tell the plane with the least fuel to head up the valley to the northeast. Tell him to stay on the

navigationbeamsoheknowswhereheis.”Iansweredcalmly.ThenIrecomputedthealtimetersetting,informedtheoperator,andwaitedwhileDesertCentertowerrelayedtheinstructionstothe707.

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“Youknowthemountainstraightnorthoftherunway?”Icontinued.“Asyouknowitisnortheastofme.Ithasaredbeaconlightontopofitandaradartranspondersohecanseeitonhisradarscreen.Tellhimwhen he is threeminutes north of the beacon light to turn east and then to come back south, headingstraighttowardsthefield.Iwanthimtocomebackexactlyoverthatbeaconlight.Tellhimtocomebackatanaltitudenotmorethan50feethigherthanthebeacon.Tellhim,whenhe’soverthebeaconheshouldhavehis flaps fullydown,hiscabin lightsoff,his landinggeardown,andhis landing lights turnedon.ThatwayI’llbeabletoseehim,andI’lltalkhiminfromthere.”Iwaitedastheinstructionsweretoldtothepilot.“He’sheadingupthevalley,”respondedthetower.“Hewantstoknowwhereonthehighwayyouwant

himtocrash.”“Oh,no!No!”Ishoutedintothetelephone.“Tellhimhe’snotgoingtocrash!TellhimIintendtohave

himlandatDesertCenter.TellthemthatIintendtohavebothofthemlandsafelyatDesertCenter!”Iwaited for a few seconds as theoperator spoke to bothpilots.After an agonizingly longwait, the

toweroperatorcamebackontheline.“Noneofusthinkthat’spossible.They’rebothterrifiedattheprospectofcrashingoutinthedesertat

nightintherain.Sincetheyhavetocrash,they’reaskingtocrashoutonthehighwaywheretheycanatleastgetsomehelp.Thepilotsneedathousandfeetofaltitudeandonemileofvisibilityinordertoland.Ican’tevenseethegroundfromthetowerwindows.Theycan’tpossiblyfindtherunway,letalonelandsafely”,returnedthetoweroperatorinmatteroffacttones.“I know all that.” I replied calmly. “But I can talk them in. The winds have been keeping the

thunderstormsawayfromthemountainstothenorth.It’sstorminginthevalleysbutit’sonlycloudyandrainyinthemountains.You’rethreemilesdownattheotherendoftherunway.Thethunderstormshavebeenpassingoveryour

endandoverthemiddle,buttheyhaven’tbeenpassingdirectlyovermyend.It’sjustrainingharduphere.Uponthisend,thethunderstormshavebeenlastingabout45minutesastheypassacrossthefield.Then

we’vehadbreaksof15 to20minutes.The stormwe’rehavingnow is just finishing. I’mexpecting tohavesmoothsteadywindscomingupthevalleyrighttowardsthatbeaconlightforthenext20minutes.Itwasthatwaybetweenthelasttwostorms.Well,whenthathappens,itopensholesinthecloudsaroundthemountainandliftsthelowcloudsoffthedesertuphereatmyendofthefield.Lasttimeithappened,Icouldseetheredbeaconlightonthemountain.Thenaclearfieldofviewopenedbetweenthebaseofthemountainandmyendoftherunway.PalmMeadowsputsoutsomuchlightthatthepilotsshouldbeabletoseethoseholesinthecloudsandfollowthelightrightdowntomyendoftherunway.”“Roger.”respondedthetower.Iwaitedwhilethetowerandthepilotstalkeditover.“They’rebothwillingtotrybecauseyousayit’spossible.”respondedthetower.“Itoldthemwhoyou

wereandhowyousavedthosesixF105pilotslastspring.”Thenafterashortpause,theoperatorcontinued,“Remember,Idon’thaveanyonetohelpyou.I’malone

hereinthetowerandIcan’tseeanythingwhateveroutthewindows.”Then after another short pause, he continued, “Remember too, that both 707s are fully loadedwith

passengers-andbothpilotssaidtheywouldforgiveyouifyou’rewrong.”Iwaitedquietlyforafewseconds,astheenormityofwhathehadsaidsunkin.Then,shruggingoffthe

operator’swords, Icontinuedwithmyinstructions.“Tell thefirstpilot thatwhenhehascompletedhisturntothesouth,tohavehiscopilotandallofthepassengerslookingoutthewindows,straightdown,incasetheholesopentotheleftorrightofhim.Tellhimthebaseofthemountainis100feethigherthanthefield,andthedesertslopesgraduallytothe

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endoftherunway.Tellhimthatassoonashepassesovertheredbeacon,evenifhedoesn’tseethelightsofPalmMeadows,todescendsmoothlyandquicklytoanaltitudeof150feet,andI’llbeoutherelookingforhim.”“Roger,” responded the tower. “I will as soon as I am able. The head stewardess is leading the

passengersintheLord’sPrayerandthepilotdidn’twanttobedisturbed.Iguessthingsareprettytenseonboard.”Afterasignificantpause,theoperatorcontinued,“Thefirstpilotisproceedingupthevalleynow.The

secondiswaitingandcircling.Thefirstpilotisencounteringheavyturbulence,heavyrainandsofthail.He’llbeattheturningpointin3minutes.”Theminutesseemedtopasslikehours.AsIwaited,Icarefullystudiedthecloudstothenorth,justasI

haddoneduring thepreviousbreakbetween thestorms.Quietly, Iprayed that theholeswould reopen.Then, in the distance, a great sense of relief came overme as the red beaconmarking the top of themountainbecamevisibleinthedistance.“TellhimthestormhasjustendedwhereIam.”Ispokecarefullyintotheemergencyphone.“Tellhim

thattheapproachpathhasopenedandthatIcanseetheredbeaconlight.”Ashortpauseensued.“Hehasmadeittotheturningpoint.Oneminuteafterheturnedeast,hebrokeout

ofthestorm.”Thenashortpausefollowed.“He’sturningsouthnow.Hisgearisdownandhislandinglightsareon”.Anotherpause.“He’sapproachingtheredbeacon.”I listenedwhile standing in the light rain. I studied the clouds in the distance, trying to catch some

glimpseoftheplane’slandinglights.Suddenly,justoverthepeakofthemountainanditsredbeacon,aspeckofwhitelightmomentarilyappeared.“Iseehim.”Ispokeintothemouthpiece.“He sees the lights!” returned the operator. “He sees the lights!When hewent over the beacon his

copilotgotaglimpseofthelightsofPalmMeadows!Heisbackinthecloudsandbeginninghisdescent!Doyouseehim?”“Iseehim!”Isaid,eventhoughhehadgonebackintotheclouds.“Tellhimtocontinuehisdescent.”Lookingdownby thebaseof theclouds, I tried toestimatewherehewouldbreakoutof theclouds.

Minutespassed.Therewasnobreakout.ThecloudswereobviouslylowerthanIhadexpected,buttheclearanceexistedifthepilotcouldfinditintime.“What’shisaltitude?”Iasked.Ashortpause.“He’sleveledoffat150feet.”“Tellhimtocomefiftyfeetlower.”Isaid,scanningthecloudsforanysignofhislandinglights.Anothershortpause.“He’sdownto100feet.Hecan’tseeanythingandhe’spanicky.Doyouseehim?”

respondedthetower.Suddenly,inthedistance,througharaggedgroupofclouds,Igotanothermomentaryglimpseofanother

whiteflash.“TellhimIseehim.”Iresponded.He’sstillatleastfiveminutesfromtherunway.Tellhimthedesertis

fallingawayfromhimandtocontinuethedescentto70feet.”Anotherlongpause.Inthedistance,Icouldseethecloudswereliftingslowlyoutoverthedesert.“He’sat70feetandhe’sstillintheclouds.Areyousureyouseehim?”askedthetower.“Yes,” I responded, lying a bit. I had been timing his approach. I calculated that by now the desert

underneathhimwouldbenomorethan20feetabovetherunway.“Tellhimtocomedownanother10feet.”Ispokecarefullyintothephone.Ashortpause.“He’snowat60feet.”respondedthetower.Stillnolightscouldbeseen.“Bringitdownanother10feet.”Isaid.

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Anothershortpause.Then,suddenlyinthedistanceIcouldseehislandinglightsjustinsidethebaseofthecloud.“He’sat50feet.Hiscopilotthinkshegotaglimpseoftherunwaylights,”statedtheoperator.“I see him clearly.” I shouted into the phone. “He’s no more than three minutes off the end of the

runway.Bringhimdownslowlyanother20feet.”Ashortpausefollowed.Then,inthedistance,appearedbeforemyeyes,oneofthemostunforgettable

visionsofmylife.The707beganslowlyappearingoutof thebaseoftheclouds.Withoutwarning, theoperatorbeganshoutingintothetelephone,“Heseesthefield!Heseesthefield!”Thenthepilotimmediatelyandintentionallydroppedtheplaneuntilthelandinggearwasnomorethan

threefeetabovethesagebrush.Hebroughtthe707acrossthatlastminuteofdesert,flapsfullyextended,landinggeardown,landinglightson,vectoringstraightfortheendoftherunway.Theplaneraisedalittlebit toclear therunwaylights.Iwasstruckbyhowmuchtheplaneresembledabridecomingdowntheaisleforawedding.Theplaneseemedalmosttobefloatinginthegentlewind.Thestorm,itself,seemedtoretreatbeforethepilot’sobviousdeterminationtobringhisplanetotheendoftherunway.“Tellhimhe’sgoingtomakeit!”Ispokeintothetelephone.“Idon’tthinkIhaveto,”respondedtheoperator.“That’sallHe’sbeenscreamingintohismicrophone

forthelastminute.”“Assoonashelands,startthenextplaneupthevalley.”Isaid.“Roger,”respondedthetower.Therewasnothingleftformetodobutstandquietlyintherainandwatch,asthe707floatedslowly

overtheendoftherunwayandtoucheddown.Theplanewaslinedupperfectlywiththerunway.Icouldhearthepilotbreaktheenginesimmediatelyashetoucheddown.After the plane had rolled only a thousand feet down the runway, it rolled into the heavy rain that

obscuredtheremainderoftherunwayandwaslostfrommyfieldofview.IwaitedacoupleofminutesandIaskedthetoweroperator,“WasthepilotabletostopO.K.?”“I thinkso,” responded theoperator.“Icouldhear thepassengersyellingandshoutingaminuteago.

Theywereallprettyhappy.Theplanehasclearedtherunway.Itisparkeddownattheendofthefieldonthetaxiwaybyahanger.Hisenginesshutdownsuddenlywhile theplanewasstillonthetaxiway.Thepilotreportedthathewasoutoffuel.Hesaidheneededthehelpofthegroundcrewtomovetheairplaneanyfurther.ItoldhimI’dgetthemthereassoonasIcould,butitwouldbeawhile.Ifinallyfoundoneinstrumenttechnicianondutydowninoneofthehangers.I’vesenthimoutinthepickuptrucktocheckthingsout,andhereportsthateverythinglooksO.K.TherestofthegroundcrewisstillparkedoutbytheDesertCenterfrontgatewaitingforhimtocrash.

Theydon’tknowthathe’salreadylanded.Rightattheminutehe’snotansweringhisradioanymore.Heseemed awfully shook up, so I guess he’s helping the stewardess lead the passengers in a prayer ofthanks.”concludedtheoperator.“Yes”,Iresponded,“Isupposehehasalottobethankfulfor.”Then,lookingdownthevalleytowards

thenextstormwhichwasapproachingsoonerthanIhadexpected,Icontinued,“Webettergetthatsecondplane in.Weprobablydon’thave10minutesbefore thenextstormhits.Askhimwherehe isandhowmuchfuelhehasleft.”Ashortpauseensued.Then theoperator responded,“He’sheadingup thevalley.Hesayshis fuel is

downtolessthan15minutes.He’snotsurehowmuchfuelhehasbecausehe’sneverseenhisgaugesthislow.”Privately,Ibeganworryingaboutthenextthunderstorm.Icouldseethattheplanecouldstillmakeitin

safely.

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However,betweentheonrushingthunderstormandthesecond707’sshortfuelsupply,Icouldalsoseetherewaslittletimetowaste.“Makesureheknowsthefirst707madeit,”Ispokeintothephone.“Andmakesureheknowstheholes

arestillthereoverthemountain.”“Roger,”respondedthetower.Thinkingforaminuteandperformingsomementalcalculations,Ispokeintothetelephone,“Tellhimto

travelonlyoneminutenorthofthebeaconlightbeforeturning.”Icouldhearmyotherphoneringing,butthiswascertainlynotimetoanswerit.Ashortpausefollowed.“Roger.”returnedtheoperator.Thenhecontinued,“Thepilotisterrified.He’smorethanhalfwayup

the valley.He reports that he is encountering theworst turbulence he’s ever seen. The plane is beingbuffetedatleast50feetupanddownbythestorm.Hereportsthattheplanehasencounteredheavylargehailthesizeofgolfballs.Hebelieveshisengineshavebeendamagedandhereportsthathisplanecan’tmakeitintoDesertCenter.He’srequestingpermissiontoreturndownthevalleyandcrashlandonthehighwaywhilehecanstillgetthere.”Ithoughtforafewseconds.ThenIresponded.“Tellhim‘no’onthereturn.Tellhimtocontinuenortheastupthevalley.Tellhimtoadjusthiscourseas

fartotheeastasthenavigationalbeamallows.There’llbelesshailoverthere.Tellhimthathailatnightalwayslookstwiceaslargeasitreallyis.TellhimhisengineshavetobeOKbecauseif thehailhe’sencountering were large enough to damage his engines, his windshield would already have beenshattered.Tellhimheknowshis707cantaketheturbulence.Tellhimanythingyouhaveto,butkeephimcomingtowardstheturningpoint.”“Roger,”respondedtheoperatorafteralongpause.“He’scontinuingupthevalley.Hereportsthehail

has lightened up, but the turbulence is continuing.He’s become absolutely panicky. It’s all he and hiscopilotcandotoholdtheplaneoncourse.He’scertainthathecan’tmakeit.He’sbeggingforpermissiontoreturndownthevalleytocrashonthehighway.Hesaysit’stheonlychancewehavetogetanyoneofftheairplanealive.”“Tell him no on the return,” I responded, again. “Tell him he knowswell that his 707 can take the

turbulence.Tellhimtokeephismindontheredbeacon.Theholesoverthemountainarestillthereandall he needs to do is to get his plane over that red beacon. I can talk him down to theDesertCenterrunwaysfromthere.”Afteralongpause,thetoweroperatorgotbackonline.“Roger.He’sstayingoncourseupthevalley.

He’s certain that they’re all going to die I guess, because he’s doing an awful lot of praying into themicrophone.”“Tellhimto leavehis landinggearupuntilhe’s left thestorm.Idon’twanthis landinglightsgetting

icedover.”Icontinued.“TellhimhecanthinkwhathewantsbutI’mcertainthathecanmakeitsafelyintoDesertCenter.”“Roger.”Thenafteraverylongpause,“Hiscopilotreportsthehailhasended.Theturbulenceended

suddenly.He’sstartinghisturn.He’sputtingthegeardownnowandturningonthelandinglights.They’llbeovertheredbeaconinoneminute.”“I’mwatching,”Iresponded.“Icanstillseethebeacon.”With a light rain falling, I strainedmy eyes to see the red beacon in the distance. The beaconwas

already fuzzy red and it was obvious that the clouds were closing back in. Suddenly the red beaconappearedtoblinkfromredtowhite,thenbacktored.“TellhimIseehim.”Isaidintothephone.“Makesurehehasbegunhisdescent.”

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“Roger.Hereports thathehaspassedover thebeaconand isdescending to150feet.“Thenapauseensued.“Hehasleveledoffat150feet.”“Tellhimtodescendto90feet.”Icontinued,refusingtoadmitthatIhadlostsightofhimintheclouds.“Roger.”Theninthedistance,awhitelightstartedblinkingalongthebaseofasetofraggedclouds.“TellhimI

seehim.”Isaid.“Tellhimtocomedownanother10feet.Tellhimthatwhenheseestherunwaylights,he’stostayashighaspossibleandnottocomelowerthan50feetabovethedesert.”“Roger,”respondedthetower.Thenashortpauseensued.Inthedistancethewhitelightbecameclearer

andwasnowblinkingataslowerrate.Thentheoperatorcontinued,“Heseemstobepanicky.He’s inheavyrainandhecan’tseeanythingout thewindows.He iscertain that theplane isdamagedand thatpiecesofmetalarefallingoffthestarboardsideoftheplane.”“TellhimIcanseehisplaneclearly.”Iresponded,hopingtheoperatorwouldn’tnoticethatIwaslying.

“Tellhimhisplaneisinperfectcondition.Tellhimtheonlythingfallingoffhisplaneisice.”Anothershortpauseensued.“Roger,”respondedthetower.“Tellhimthere’sonlyonemoreraincloudinfrontofhim.He’llbethroughitinanotherminute.Then

he’llbeabletobringhisplanedownandland.”Isaid.“Roger.”Therewasanothershortpause.“Heseemstohavecalmeddownsome.”Inthedistance,Iwatchedastheblinkingwhitelightcontinueditsgradualdescenttowardsasmallrain

cloud.Thedistantlightseemedsofragile.Icouldseethatthecloudshadlowered.Theapproachcorridorwasrapidlyclosing.Theredbeaconlightwasalreadycompletelyobscuredbyclouds.Ialsowatchedasthenextthunderstormrushedtowardsthefieldfromthesouthwest.IcouldseethatitwasgoingtobeveryclosesoIstartedpayingcarefulattentiontomywindrecorder.Itshowedahistoryofthewindsforthelast6hours.Icouldseethattheperiodofsteadywindswasalmostoverandthattheairwasbecomingincreasingly unstable. In the distance, thewhite blinking light entered the cloud. I started counting theseconds.Ilocatedaholeinthebaseofthecloudsandbeganstudyingitintently,waitingfortheplanetopassbyit.Afteralongagonizingwait,awhitelightmomentarilyappearedinthehole.“I see him.” I spoke into the telephone. “Tell him to come down another 20 feet. Then descend

graduallyuntiltherunwaylightsappear,andthenholdthataltitude.”“Roger,” responded the tower. Then a short pause followed. “He sees the runway!” shouted the

operator.“Hesaysit’sthefirstthinghe’sseensincehepassedoverthebeacon!Hisnavigatorsayshe’sjustthreeminutesnorthoftheendoftherunway!”Towards the southwest, I could see the thunderstorm already drifting onto the airbase. Studying the

windrecorderIcontinued,“Tellhimhe’sgoingtomakeitsafely.There’sawindgustcominginaboutoneminute.Tellhimtobereadyforit.Iexpectthegusttobefrom210degreesat65mph.”“Roger.”Then,therewasanothershortpause.“Tellhimtohavehisnavigatortimeit,”Icontinued.“Iexpectittolastnomorethan30seconds.When

itfinishes,thewindswillreturntotheirpresentheadingof180degreesat7mph.Assoonasthewindgustfinishes,Iexpecthisplanetodropsuddenlyabout30feet.Tellhimtobereadyforit.“Roger.”Therewasanothershortpause.“Tellhimthatassoonasthegustends,tolandasquicklyaspossible.Havehimdropontotherunway

assoonasheisoverit.”Istatedslowly.Theoperator,withdryhumor,responded,“Ithinkthat’swhathe’stryingtodo.”Icouldn’thelpbutlaughatmyself.Theoperator’sstatementcertainlyseemedtobecorrect.Watching

thewindmetercarefully,Icontinued,“Tellhimtogetready-thegustisstarting-now.”In the distance, the planewobbled suddenly, and jumped several feet higher. Then it slowly started

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returningbackdown to50 feet. Iwatched thewind recordercarefully.“Tellhim thegust is starting toend-getready-now!”Istated.Theplanebynowwaswithinoneminuteoftheendoftherunway.AsIwatched,thewindgustended.

Asitdidso,theplanesuddenlyfellmorethan30feettowardtheground.Whenthepilotregainedcontrol,thelandinggearwaslessthanfivefeetabovethesagebrush.“Beautiful!”Iexclaimed.“Tellhimthewindswillremainsteadylongenoughforhimtoland!”“Roger.”Iwatchedastheplanestrainedtoreachtheendoftherunway.Withtheflapsdownandthelandinggear

down,Icouldseethepilotwasstrainingtopulltheplaneupthefewextrafeetneededtoclearthelandinglightsattheendoftherunway.Withthenextthunderstormnowrushingontothefarendofthefield,the707driftedslowlyover therunway lights, linedupperfectlyover thecenterline,anddroppedonto thenear end of the runway. The nose gear had hardly touched down when the full fury of the nextthunderstormstruck.Icouldseetheplanerollintotherainanddisappearfromview.Iwaited severalminutes. I knew the tower operatorwould be busywhile the plane landed. Then I

askedintothephone,“Didhemakeitsafely?”Atfirsttherewasnoresponse.Afteranunusuallylongtime,theoperatorresponded,“Yes.He’sparked

somewheredownbythebarrierattheendoftherunway.EverythingseemstobeO.K.Iwastalkingtotheheadstewardess.Shesaidtheenginesquitjustasthenosewheeltoucheddownandthepilothadtobeextracarefulwhenheappliedthebrakes.Shesaidtheplanerolledtoanormalstop.Sheandthecopilotthenopenedthemaincabinexitdoorsotheycouldgetsomefreshairandseewhere

theywere.She said itwashard toget itopenbecauseall thepeoplewerecheeringand shouting, andeveryonewastryingtohelpthem.Shesaysthatshedoesn’tknowwheretheplaneisontherunway.Shesaysallofthewheelsareonthe

pavementand that theplanehasnotsufferedanydamage.Shealso toldme thatnoneof thepassengerswereinjured.Shesaidthatwhenshelooksoutofthecockpitwindows,allshecanseeisabigredandwhitething

thatcan’tbemorethan10feetaway.Thatmustbethebarrierattheendoftherunway.”“I’msurprisedthatyouweretalkingtothestewardess,”Isaid.“Whereisthepilot?”Accordingtothestewardess,assoonastheygottheplanestopped,sheandthecopilotwenttocheck

thepassengers.TheysawthateveryonewasO.K.Thentheyopenedthedoorandlookedout,andsawthattheplanewascompletelysafeandO.K.Thenthecopilotgotrealshaky.Thepilot,shesaid,camebackinto the cabin and quieted everyone down. Then he led them all in reciting the Lord’s Prayer and inrecitingaprayerofthanks.HeprayedthatGodalwayshelpedyouthewaythatyouhadhelpedthem.”“That’snicetoknow,”Isaid,notquitesurehowtoreact.“Whyisthestewardesshandlingtheradio?”“Iunderstoodher to say that thepilot isback inoneof the lavatories.She thinkshe’scrying so she

doesn’twanttodisturbhim.Shesaysthenavigatorisoutside,downonthegroundwalkingaroundintherain. I guessheneeded some fresh air.When the instrument technician arrived in thepickup truck, thenavigatorwasonhishandsandkneesinthesagebrush,vomitingfromthestress.Iguesshe’sgoingtobeO.K.Thecopilot is just standingback in thegalley.She thinkshewants tobealone too.Shesaid thatsomeoneneededtohandletheradio,soshe’sdoingit.”“Well,”Isaid,“Thisthunderstormlookslikeabigone.It’llprobablybeanother45minutesbeforeit’s

over. Then you’ll probably have 20 minutes of gentle winds and light rain. I guess that you haveeverythingundercontrolsoI’llgobacktomyworknow.Incidentally,Iseethatthetwotallpassenger-unloadingrampsaresittingupherebythebaseoperations

building.Everythingisshutdownforthenight,butyoumightwantthegroundcrewtotowtheairplanesup

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here,anyway,insteadoftowingthemdowntothehangers.It’llbemucheasiertounloadthepassengers.It’llmakeiteasyforthebusesfromPalmMeadowsFieldtofindthem.Thebusescanjustpullintotheparkinglotoftheweatherstation.I’llgetthekeyfromthebaseopsoffice,unlockthedoors,andturnonallthelights.Everythingisniceandwarmuphere.Thepassengerswillbeabletogetinoutoftherain.Ifanyofthepassengersneedtousetherestroom,they’reavailable,too.”“Thatsoundslikeagoodidea,”respondedthetoweroperator.“Istillcan’traiseanyonedownatthe

frontgate.Iaskedtheinstrumenttechniciantotakethepickuptruckdownandgetthegroundcrew.”“Soundslikeagoodidea,”Iresponded.“I’llhangupthephonenow,andgetthelightsturnedoninthe

baseopsbuilding.Besuretocallmeifyouneedanything.”“Roger,”respondedtheoperator.Then,afteralongpause,hecontinued,“Noneofusknowwhattosay

orhowtothankyou,Charlie.Noneofusknowhow,butthanks.”“Oh,thinknothingofit,”Ianswered.“IjustdidwhattheAirForcetrainedmetodo.”I went back inside, hung up the phone, closed thewindow, and turned on the lights in theweather

station.Iunlockedthedoorsinbaseops,turnedupthethermostat,andturnedonallofthebaseopslights.ThenItransmittedmymissingweatherreportstoTinkerAFB,Oklahoma,sentanotherproceduremessagetoTinker.Iinformedthemthattheemergencywasoverandtheplanesweresafelyontherunway.Itwasasimpleproceduremessage.Itread,“DESERT CENTER AFB COMING BACK ON LINE. AIRCRAFT EMERGENCY HAS ENDED.

TWO 707 JETLINERS LANDED SAFELY IN HEAVY RAIN. DESERT CENTER AFB REMAINSCLOSED.CEILINGZERO.VISIBILITYZERO.CLOUDSONRUNWAY.RAINHEAVY.SOMEHAIL.HEAVY THUNDERSTORMS IN PROGRESS. RETURNING TO NORMAL REPORTINGSCHEDULE.”Then,Iwentbacktoreadingmybook.Istillhadanothersevenlonelyhourstowork.Severalminutespassed.Onceagaintheregularweatherstationphonerang.“DesertCenterweatherstation,”Iresponded.“Charliespeaking.”“Charlie, finallyyou’re there. I’vebeen trying to reachyou for the lasthalfhour.”Thevoiceon the

otherendshoutedurgently.I immediatelyrecognizedthevoiceofoneof theotherDesertCenterUSAFweatherobservers,Dwight.HeandIweretheclosestoffriends.“About40minutesago,mywifewaschangingchannelsontheTVandsawaTVnewsbreak.TheTVnewsissayingthattwo707jetlinersaregoingtocrashonthehighwayrightoutinfrontofyou!Icouldhardlybelieveit!Thethreelocalstationsare out there covering the preparations live!They’ve gotmore than 10miles of highway blocked off.They’vealreadygotabigsectionoutinfrontofthebasecoveredwithfoam!You’regoingtoneedsomehelp,guy!Yougotagreatbigemergencyonyourhands!I’llberightoutto

helpyoubutyouknowIlivewayacrossthevalley.It’lltakemeatleastanhourtogetoutthere!IcalledSergeantWaltersandtoldhimIwascoming,buthesaidthatwhenhetriedtogetouttheretohelpyou,theStatePoliceturnedhimback.They’renotlettinganyonethroughexceptambulancesandfiretrucks!You’llhavetotellthemI’mcomingorthey’llneverletmethrough!”“Oh,that’sreallyniceofyouDwight,”Ireplied,“butthere’snoemergencygoingonouthere.Thetwo

707slandedandthey’reouthereparkedontherunwaywaitingfor thegroundcrew.YouhaveamerryChristmaswithyourfamily.”“Butyoucan’tberight!”respondedDwight.“AreyoucallingtheStatepolice,thefiredepartment,and

allofthetelevisionstationswrong?Thetelevisionstationsarecarryingtheemergencylive!I’mlookingat the TV right now. It’s right in front of me! They just finished talking to the PalmMeadows Fieldweather observer.They’rewaiting for two fully loaded 707 airliners to crash right out in front of theDesert Center gates! The State Police have evacuated those three big apartment houses just down the

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street in case the airplanes hit them. They have more than 500 people standing out here in the rain!They’retellingthepeoplethattherecan’tbeanyotherchoice,Charlie!Thewholevalleyhashadnothingbut constant thunderstorms all day! I tell you, Charlie, what you have on your hands is the biggestemergencyI’veeverseen!You’regoingtoneedmyhelp,Charlie!”“I’mtellingyouthetruth,Dwight,”Iresponded,“IwasjusttalkingtotheDesertCentertower.There

arenojetlinerspreparingtocrashoutonthehighway.Thereweretwojetlinersuptherealittlewhileago,buttheyhadgoodpilots.TheybothlandedhereatDesertCenter.YoucancalltheDesertCentertowerifyoudon’tbelieveme.”“Wait aminute,”Dwight interrupted. “TheTVnews has just reported that theDesertCenter ground

crewispullingouttogosomewhere,butnobodyseemstoknowwhere.Oneofthecameracrewshaslefttofollowthem.Theythinkmaybeoneoftheplanescrashedupthevalley.What’sgoingon,Charlie?”“Well,asI’vebeensayingDwight,therearen’tanyjetlinersflyingintheskyorcrashingonthehighway

whichgoesbythebase.Theonlyairplanesanywherearoundaretwo707sfullyloadedwithpassengers,parkedoutontheDesertCenterrunway.Thegroundcrewisprobablycomingbacktotowtheplanesuphere to base ops. The passengers are still on board and we need to let them get off and bus themdowntown.EveryoneelsecangohomeandenjoyChristmas.Itellyouwhat,Dwight,whydon’tIjustgiveyouthephonenumberoftheDesertCentertower.Youcan

callthemupandyou’llseethatI’mtellingyouthetruth.”Istated.“Therereallyisn’tanyemergencygoingonouthere.”“Well, OK,” respondedDwight. “Giveme the number and I’ll phoneDesert Center tower. But I’m

tellingyou,Charlie, there’sabigemergencygoingonout there.You’regoing toneedallofus tohelpyou.”“I really appreciate your offer,Dwight.” I responded. “It’s really nice of you but don’tworry. Just

phone the tower and put your mind at ease. Then you and your family have a really nice Christmastogether.YourwifeandyourtwosonsmustbelookingforwardtospendingChristmaswithyou.Here,thenumbertothetoweris255-2525.I’lltalktoyoulater,Dwight.”“Thanksforthenumber,Charlie.”saidDwight.“Butifyou’rewrong,I’llcomerightoutandhelpyou.”“Iknowyouwould,Dwight.But,really,there’snoneed.There’sreallynothinggoingonouthere.”With that, I said good-bye and hung up the phone. I filed my teletype reports, transmitted my next

weatherreport,andwentbacktoreadingmybook.Timepassed,andastheclockcontinuedtotickaway,thethunderstormabated.Thewindsdieddown

andthevisibility improvedasanother interludebetweenstormsbeganpassing through.Out throughtheweather station windows I could see the ground crews towing the first 707 along the taxiway in thedistance.As it reached the end of the taxiway and the beginning of the long parking ramp, the towingtractormadeawidegentleturn,andcontinuedtowingitupalongtheramptowardstheweatherstationarea.Itseemedlikesuchaneasytask.Soontheplanewasparkedontherampjustoutsidethebaseopsbuilding.Itseemedasifthepassengersonboardthe707hadfinallyreachedtheJerusalemthattheyhadbeenseekingforsolong.Havingparkedthefirst707,thetractorunhookedandwentforthesecond707.Itwasstillsittingouton

therunway.Astheunloadingrampwaspushedupto the707’sforwarddoorway, thecameratruckandcrewfromtheTVnewsrushedupoutfront.Skiddingtoastop,thecameracrewwentrunningoutintheraintowardstheparkingramp.Thecameralightswereonandthecamerashadjustbegunrollingwhenthe door to the 707 was opened. I watched as the first passengers began unloading. One of the firstpassengerstocomedowntherampwasanelderlywomanheavilycladinafurcoat.Itwasstillraininglightly.Ittooktheladyalongtimetomakeitdowntheramp.Thecameracrewaskedherwhatthelanding

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hadbeenlike.Sheseemedtobehavingahardtimespeakingcoherently.Shewassaying,“Theflightwasterrible.Theflightwasterrible.Whowashe?Whowastheonewhosavedus?Jesusmusthavespokentohim.Hecouldn’tpossiblyhaveseenourplaneinthestorm.Youhavetofindhim.Thecaptainsaidwehadtothankhim.”I turned to my phone. It was ringing again. “Desert Center AFB,” I said. It was Master Sergeant

Walters,thenextstepupinmychainofcommand.Heinterruptedme.“Charlie,thankGodyouwerethere.Icalledthetower.Theytoldmewhatyoudid.Charlie,yousavedthelivesofseveralhundredpeople.Iwantyou toknow that I’vealreadycalled theMajor andwe’reboth in agreement.TheMajorwillbeawardingyouamedalforheroicserviceassoonashecanpushthepaperworkthroughTinkerAFBinthemorning.Howdidyoueverseebothofthoseplanesatnightinthesestorms?”“Oh,itwasn’tthathard.”Isaidrespectfully.“Ijusthadtogetusedtolookingattheclouds.”“Charlie,wecan’tthankyouenough,”respondedtheMasterSergeant.“Youknow,Charlie,allofthe

peopleandalloftheambulancesandfiretruckswerestillwaitingdownbytheDesertCentergate.TheStatePolicehad thehighwayblockedoffuntilDwightdrovedownandconvinced them theemergencywasover.”“Really?”Irespondedinsurprise.“Didn’ttheDesertCentertowertellthem?”“Yes,” said theMasterSergeant. “The toweroperator told them,all right,butnoonewouldbelieve

him.TheweatherobserveratPalmMeadowsfieldkepttellingthemthatitwasimpossiblefortheplanesto land anywhere in this storm. The weather radar down at the Field kept picking up constantthunderstormsandheavyrainoveralloftheDesertCenterrunways.Noneofuscanfigureouthowyoudidit.Eventheradarrecordsprovethatanylandingwasimpossible.When theDesertCenter tower operator told theStatePolice that the emergencywas over, they just

thoughtthathe’dbeendrinkingbecauseit’sChristmasEve.Theythoughthewasplayingaprankonthem.At first, they were going to have theMilitary Police arrest him as soon as the emergency was over.DwighthadtogodownthereandconvincethemtocheckwiththePalmdaleAirtrafficcontrollersandseethatthereweren’tanyairplanesintheskyoverPalmMeadowsbeforetheywouldbelievehim.Youcansee them right now, live, on theTV.They’re still down there shaking their headswondering how youcouldeverhaveseentheplanesinthisstorm.Youshouldseeallofthefoamtheyspreadonthehighway.Theymusthavefoamedtenmilesofhighway.Theyfoamedallofthelanes.Charlie,Ibetterletyougoincasetheyneedyououtside.ButbeforeIgo,letmemakesurethatIsay

thanks.ThanksfortheMajor.Thanksformyself.Thanksfromallofus.Noonecouldhavedoneitbutyou,noone.ItellyouCharlie,youareonefinepaperbackhero.”“Thanks,Sergeant.”Iresponded,stilltotallyunpreparedtomeetallofthesepeopleonthispreviously

lonelyChristmasEve.“Ibettergonow.Isee they’reunloadingtheplanes.Theymayneedmetoshowthemtherestrooms.”With that I hung up the phone, just as passengers and crewmen from the first 707, followed by the

televisioncameras, started filing intomy room.Withinminutes,my littleweather stationwasdown tostandingroomonly,holdingmorepeoplethanIcouldeverhaveguessed.Theywereallstrugglingtogetintoseeme.Iwasreallytakenoffguard.OutthewindowIcouldseethetractortowingthesecond707uptowardstheparkingramp,withstillmorepeopleonboard.Theplanedidn’tneedtobesteeredandtheheadstewardesswasstillsittinginthepilot’sseat.The first pilot, his copilot behind him, grabbedmy hand and almost shook it offmy body.With the

camerasrolling,thepilotbrokeoutintotears,saying,“Youdidit!ThankGod,youdidit!Ididn’tthinkyoucouldeverhavedoneit!Ican’ttellyouhowitfeelstostillbealive!Godknowswe’dhaveallbeendeadwithoutyou!Weplannedtocrashonthathighwayoutthere.Allofus,we’dallhavebeenkilled.We

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alloweyouourlives!”Then the TV news reporter, a young lady, quietly interrupted him, “Please let the observer say

something.”I could hardly have been less prepared. I stammered a little, saying something incoherent about the

winds.Then,nothavingthefaintestideawhattosay,Ishookthepilot’shandandsaid,“I’mreallygladtoseeyouall.It’spastmidnight,sonowit’sChristmas.IguessGodwantsusalltobealiveonChristmas.”Pausingwhilemymindwentracinginsilentconfusedcircles,Icontinued,“I’veturnedonthelightsandturneduptheheatintherestofthebuilding.Therearerestroomsandsomevendingmachinesandaloungedownat theotherend.You’reall free towait inside,anywherein thebuilding,until thebusescometotakeyoudowntown.”Withthepilotandcopilotstillshakingmyhand,thecopilotsaidtome,“You’llneverknowhowhard

weprayedthatGodwouldletusalllivetoseeyou.”Then,withnoonehavingthefaintestideawhattodonext,thepilotandcopilot,stillshakingvisibly,

ledthepassengersdownthroughthebuildingtothevendingmachines,therestrooms,andloungeontheotherend.Onebyone,withthecamerasrolling,thepassengersfromthefirst707filedthrough.Eachoneshookmyhand.Mosthuggedandthankedme.The passengers from the first 707 had hardly finished coming through theweather stationwhen the

passengers from the second plane, led by the head stewardess, began filing in.With the cameras stillrolling,onceagaintheroomfilledwalltowallwithpeople.OneoftheladypassengerswassayingtotheTVnewsreporter,“Youshouldhaveseenhowthepilotbroughttheplaneoverthatredbeaconuponthemountain.Itlookedlikehewasgoingtohititwiththetipofhiswing.Hecouldn’thavemisseditbymorethanfivefeet.”“Theheadstewardessresponded,“Hewasafraidthattheweatherobserverwasn’tgoingtobeableto

seeus, sohewanted tomake the lightblink,even ifhehad tobreak itwithhiswing tip.Heknewhewouldonlygetonechance.”TheTVnewsreportersaidtothestewardess,“Iguessthingswereprettybadupthere.”“You’llneverknowhowbaditwas,”respondedthestewardess.“I’vebeenflyingfor12yearsandI’ve

neverseenaflightthisbad.”Turningtowardsme,shecontinued,“Ifithadn’tbeenforthisman,noneofuswouldbealiveanymore.Weallowehimourlives.Eventhetoweroperatorsaidweallowethismanourlives.Idon’tknowhowhedidit.Everyoneelsehadgivenuponus.Theydidn’tknowwhatitwouldhavebeenlike.Theyweregoingtohaveuscrashonthehighway.Thepilothadalreadytoldushewasgoingtocrashonthehighwayandmanyofuswouldbekilled.Heexpectedthatheandtheflightcrewwouldallbekilled.Hetoldusalltosaveourselvesasbestwecould,andnottotrytosavetheflightcrew.Ifthismanhadn’t talkedhimoutof it, hewouldhavecrashedout there inallof thosehousesandwires.Hecouldneverhavefoundthehighway.Ourpilothadpanicked.Thetoweroperatorwasshoutingatourpilot.Wewereallbentoverandwe

were all buckled in. The pilot came on the intercom and told us that the hail and the turbulence haddamagedtheplane.Hesaidthatitwasimpossibletogoon,andthathewasstillgoingtohavetocrashoutthereinthecoldnighttime,rainsoakeddesert.Alloftheoldpeoplewereprayingandallofthelittlekidswerecrying.Thepilothadalreadystartedtoturnback.Icouldhearthetoweroperatorshoutingbackatourpilot.Hewasshouting,‘He’salreadybroughtthe

firstplanein.Nowwhatareyougoingtodo?Areyougoingtoruinthisman’sChristmasjustbecauseyoudon’thavethegutstofollowhisinstructionsthewaythefirstpilotdid?Keepheadingnortheast.Doliketheweathermansays!There’smoreturbulencebehindyouthanthereisinfrontofyou!Andifhe’swrong,what do you carewhere you die?The first pilot says theweatherman knowswhat he’s talking about!

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Now,getbackonthatnortheastbeacon!’”Turningtothepassengers,shecontinued,“NowIwanteachoneofyoutothankthismanforyourlives

beforeyouleave,justliketheCaptainsaid.Thebusseswillbehereinalittlewhile.I’llbewaitingtohelpyoudownattheotherendofthisbuildingwheretherestroomsare.”Turning back tome, she said, “We all thankedGod that you sawus.Wewere all so afraid thatwe

wouldn’tgettoseeyouandtothankyou.”Then,kissingmeonthecheek,shesaid,“Thanks,fromallofus.”Istillwasata total loss forwords.Therewasnothingforme todobutstandnumbly there,shaking

hands,thankingpeople,andwishingthemallaMerryChristmas.Attheveryend,withthecamerasstillrolling,thepilot,copilot,andnavigatorfromthesecond707,exhausted,camethrough.Itwasobviousatfirst glance that they were having trouble regaining their composure. I understood completely. Afterlanding,they’dallbeencryingandvomitingfromtheterriblestressthey’dbeenunder.Thethreeofthem,allatatotallossforwords,justwalkeduptomeandhuggedmelikeabear.The

pilot,strugglingtokeepfromgoingtotallytopiecesintears,saidquietly,“Havewewantedtoseeyou.Weweresoafraidthatyouwouldn’tbehereforustosee.”Thecopilot,seeingthepilotbreakingdownagain,cametohisaid,saying,“Whathemeanstosayis

thatwealloweyouourlives.Noneofusknowhowtosayit,butweallthankGodyouwerehere.WeallthankGodthatyoucouldseeus.”ThentheentirecrewhuggedmeuntilIwasdizzy.Theythankedme,andcontinueddowntothelounge.

Therethepassengersandcrewfromboth707s,manystandingoutdoorsintherain,manydrinkingcoffeeand holding candy bars purchased from the vendingmachines, all joined together, like crusaders, in asimpleceremony.Itwasaprayerofthanks.TheyallthankedGodtheywerealive,and,attheend,theyallaskedGodtobewithmeinthefuturethewayhe’dbeenwithmeinthepast.Watchingfromadistance,Iwastotallydumbfounded.Theywereallperformingthesameceremonyfor

me, which I had planned to perform for myself. I could hardly believe it. It was as though God hadsteppedout frombehind themistanddecided toshowhimself tome,onceand forall.TheviewfromwhereIstoodwassimplystunningandhumbling.Astheprayerwasjustfinishing,thebussesbegancoming.Theparkinglotrapidlyfilledwithcarsand

trucks. Now the friends and loved ones of the passengers and crew began streaming into the alreadycrowded building. For the next several hours a new group of people, families, and friends of thepassengersstreamedthroughmyweatherstation.Missingweatherreports,itwasnecessaryformetogoofflineandsendTinkerAFBanotherproceduremessage.ThentheTVnewsreportercame.Shewantedme to show her the view of the red beacon and the mountains that I had used as an aid. With thethunderstormsbackinfullprogress,allIcouldshowherwasthelightening,thewind,andthecoldrain.Hourslater,thelastofthepassengersandfriendshadfiledout.IsadlywavedtheTVnewsteamgood

bye.Irealizedthattheweatherstationwasonceagain,desertedexceptforme.Itwassolonelynow.Iturnedoutthelightsandrelockedthedoorsinbaseops.ThevendingmachinesthatIhadplannedtouse,tobuysomecoffeeandacandybar,hadbeenstrippedcleanbythecrowd.Expectingtonursemyemptystomachuntilmorning,ItransmittedanotherproceduremessagetoTinker.ItinformedTinkerthatDesertCenterwasstillclosedandIwasbackonline.Iwentbacktomychairandsatdown.Ipickedupmyhistorybookandwentbacktoreadingaboutthe

GreatCrusade.Itwassuchanexcitingperiodinhistory.Ilovedreadingaboutitsgreatheroes.Ihad juststartedreadingwhen thedoor to theweatherstationopenedsuddenly. Inwalked theChief

Master Sergeant in charge of the chow hall. He had with him in cardboard containers, the largestbreakfastthechowhallcouldprepare.Threetripstothetrucklater,settingthelastofthemcarefullyon

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thetable infrontofme,hesaidsimply,“Onthatsecond707, thatoldcouplein thefrontrowweremyfather andmother. If it hadn’t been for you, they would have died tonight, for sure, out there on thathighway.Theywouldneverhavebeenabletogetoutofthatairplanealive.”Thenhe shookmyhandand said simply, “Thanks. I brought this over foryou. I don’t expect you to

believemebutIswearthattonight,oneofyourguardianangelsappearedbeforemeinthechowhall.Hewaskindoftallandhesaid,‘Evenapaperbackheroneedstoeat.’Iknewrightawaythathemeantyou.HesaidyourguardianangelswantyoutoremembertonightwheneveryouhaveanotherlonelyChristmasEve.Hesaidtheywantyoutorememberthatthey’realwayswithyou.”Withthat,thesergeantexitedbackintothenight,wishingmeaMerryChristmasasheleft.

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TheTeacherThenJobsaidinreply:

Atleastlistentomywords,andletthatbetheconsolationyouoffer,

BearwithmewhileIspeak;Andafterthatyoucanmock!

Job21:1,3

ItwasaFridayafternoonatDesertCenter.Thenewguy,Washingtonwaswashingthewindowsattheweatherstation. Iwouldhavenoticedhimanywaybecauseofhis intensity.However, therain thatwasfallingatthetimeguaranteedthathisactionswouldcatchmyattention.“Theylooka lotcleaner,”Isaid tohim, tryingtostrikeupaconversation.Hedidn’tanswermeand

keptworking.Well,Idecided,somemenarejustnaturallyquiet.Walkingintothenextroomwheretheforecaster’sareawaslocated,IwashappilygreetedbySergeant

O’Keefe.“Charlie,hownicetoseeyou.”heexclaimed.“I’mgladyoucamedownherewhenIphoned.Ihopeyouweren’tdoinganythingimportantthisafternoon.”“NoproblemSergeant. Iwasmore thana littleboredoverat thebarracks, and Iwascomingdown

anyway.IwantedtoseehowthatnewairmanWashingtonwasmakingout.Ithoughtmaybehemightneedsomeextrahelpinthisrain,”Ianswered.“Oh,no,notthisoneCharlie.He’sgood,Itellyou.He’sreallygood,respondedO’Keefeexcited.He’s

goodbecausehehasadegreeinmeteorologyfromtheUniversityofWisconsinatMadison.Theydon’tgivethosethingsaway.HeknowsmoreaboutweatherforecastingthananyonehereexcepttheMajor.Heevendoesthecomputationsinsteadofguessinglikesomanyforecastersdo.”“No,Sergeant,”Ilaughed.“Youmeansometimesweatherforecastersarejustguessing,”Iquestioned

sarcasticallydrawingtearsoflaughterfromO’Keefe.“OnethingIdon’tunderstand,Sergeant,”Iasked,“Washingtonisonlyanairmanfirstclass.Ifhehasa

collegedegreelikeyousay,whyisn’theanofficer?”“Well, responded O’Keefe, “He started out as an officer, but he flunked out of Officer Candidate

School-becausehe’sthenicestguyyou’deverwanttomeet.“He’stooniceaman,Charlie.Heworkslikeananimal.Heshouldstopandthinkaboutthingsmore.He

knowshowtoreadandwriteinancientGreek.Whenhehastimeoff,hejustsitsinthebarracksandreadsbooksonancientGreekphilosophyandcomparesittotheBible.Onhistimeoff,allhedoesisreadthosebooksintheoriginalGreek.Heneedsmorerest.“He’ssingle.HeneedstobetakenuptotheLasVegascasinoslikeyougouptothecasinos.Heneeds

tolethismindrunonaheadinlife.Heneedstobetakentosomegirlieshowsandtaughttogamble.Heneedstobetaughthowtofightoffamanwhosetryingtokillhimwithaknife,andthentaughthowtotellthatmanwiththenewbruisesthatyou’rekeepinghisknifeasasouvenir,insteadofcallingthepoliceandcharginghimwithattemptedmurder.“AnotherproblemWashingtonhas,Charlie.Hewants tohelpeverybody.Lookathim.He’sout there

washingthewindowsintheraininordertohelpthejanitor.YesterdayIsawhimsweepingthefloor.Ifhe’snotcarefulhe’llbecomethejanitor.“Lastnightwhenwewalkedoutintotheparkinglot,heranonaheadofmejusttoopenmycardoor.

I’m a grownman, Charlie. I don’t like people doing things forme.He should know that Charlie.He

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shouldtellmetoopenmyowncardoor,justlikeyoudo.“I’mworriedabouthim.Itellyou,ifhe’snotcareful,he’sgoingtodrivehimselfnuts.Nicepeopledo

that,youknow.“Seeifyoucanhelphim.BeaTeachertohim.Followhimaround.Workwithhim.Gooverthereand

makeamess.Heneedsateacherlikeyouaroundtokeephimfromgoingoffthedeepend.Justdoitformeasafavor,Charlie.“Yousee,Charlie, theMajorsays that ifyoucan teachhim tostandup forhimself, they’ll sendhim

backtoOCS.Whetherheknowsitornot,hiswholecareerdependsonhowmuchhecanlearnfromyou.”LaughingandbiddingtheSergeantgoodbye,Ireturnedtotheweatherobservingsectionofthestation.

SinceWashingtonwenttotheUniversityofWisconsin,Ifiguredhemightbeafootballfan.Kickingoverachaironpurpose,Igreetedhim,“How’sitgoing,Washington?I’mCharlie.I’mthebestfootballfanwestofGreenBay.”Recognizingmypresenceatlast,heputdownhiscleaningrag,hewasdustingthefurnitureatthetime,

andreturnedmygreeting.“Hi.”hesaidtimidly.Icontinued,“I’mfromCambridge,Wisconsin,justsoutheastofMadison.”“Cambridge!” his eyes lit up. “I watched all the football games when I was attending the UW at

Madison.”IcouldseethatheandIweregoingtobethebestoffriends.Theweeks passed slowly. I put ideas in hismind, good ideas, and I worked them until they were

accepted.Itwasaslowprocess,butIcouldseethathewasmakingprogress.LateoneMondayafternoonwewerebothbetweenshiftsandotherwisealoneinthebarracks.He’dbeeninhisroomwiththedoorclosedallday,quietlyreadingGreekphilosophy.Poundingonhisdoor,Icalledout,“Hey,Washington!It’stimefortheeveningmeal.Comeon.We’llwalkovertothechowhalltogether.IheardarumorthattheAirForcehasputsomenewnudiewaitressesontheline.”ThenIstoodlaughingforabit.Ittookawhile,butafteratime,hisdoorfinallyopenedandtherestoodWashington,readyforchow.He

didn’tactuallysayanything,butfromtheseriouslookonhisfaceIcouldtellthatSergeantO’Keefewasright.Hecertainlyneededsomeonelikemetohelphimrest.Itwasanicewalktothechowhall.Hestillhadn’tspokenasingleword.Thatwasnotaproblemfor

me.Ifiguredhewasjustanaturallyquietguywhomightliketohearmoreaboutfootball.Forthenexthour,Itoldhimaboutit.Ifiguredheneededtopracticeinterruptingotherpeople,soIgavehimplentyofopportunity.Finally, halfway through themeal, he started to comeback to the landof the living.Seeinghewas

gettingbacktowherehecouldtalk,Iaskedhim,“HowdidyoudowithgamblingonyourrecenttriptoLasVegas,Washington?Didyouplayanyblackjack?”ThenIstoppedtalkingandwaitedforhimtoanswer.Hisanswerwassometimecoming,butthedam

finallybrokeandhisideasstartedgushingfromhismouth.“Ididjustlikeyoutaughtme,Charlie.Iwenttothatcasinowhereallofthedealersarebeautifulyoung

womenwearingnothingbutthosesee-throughblouses.Man,someofthosewomenwerejustincredible.“Asfarasthemoneywent,firstIwasaheadfivedollars.ThenIwaslosingfivedollars.Finally,Igot

backeven,soIquit,justlikeyoutaughtme.Alongtheway,Imusthavegottenthemtogivemetendollarsworth of freewhiskey and soft drinks.And I also got towatch the beautifulwomen for at least threehours.”Finally,hehadgottenbacktowherehecouldlaugh.“I’mreallygladforyou,Washington,”Isaid,“IseeyouweretalkingtoPayneforawhilethismorning.

Tellme,howisPaynedoingthesedaysupatMojaveWells?”“Ohgreat,”answeredWashington.“Rightnowhe’s taking theafternoonwindmeasurementsdownat

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RangeOne.Hereallylikesdrivingdowntherewithhistruckandplayingaround.Iguesshetakesoneoftheotherrangeratsdowntherewithhimeverytimehegoes.”“Everytime?”Iasked.“Yes,everytime,”respondedWashington.“Atfirsthedidn’t.He’djustgodowntherehimself.Buthe

saidthatonedayhesawsomethingfaroutinthesagebrush.He’salittlenearsighted,youknow,so,hestartedwalkingout thereslowly, toseebetterwhat itwas.Iguesswhenitwasstill reallyfaraway, itstarted growling like a coyote. He figured it was growling at him, so he turned around and took offrunning.Hedoesn’tknowwhatitwasbuthedoesn’tthinkitwasactuallyacoyote.“Well,anyway,nowanytimehegoesoutthere,hetakesoneoftherangeratswithhim.Therangerat

alwaysstaysoutsideandwatchesthesagebrushwhilePaynetakesthereadings.IguessitworksoutOK.”“I appreciate you tellingme aboutPayne,” I continued, “Did I understand that conversationyouhad

withtheMajorthismorning?AreyougoinguptothegunneryrangesafterPayne?”“Yes,”answeredWashington.“IaskedtheMajorwhenhewasgoingtosendyouupthereagain.The

major said that youwere far too valuable to send up there again.He said that hewanted you here atDesertCentersothatwhenevertherewasbadweather,youcouldcomeinandtraintheotherobservers.Hesaidheneededyoueverytimetherewasanairplaneintrouble.”“Butyou’reaveryvaluablepersontoo,Washington.”Istated.“Oh,anyonecouldreplacemehereatDesertCenter.Butnoonecouldreplaceyou,”saidWashington

sincerely.“TheMajortoldmewhatheisgoingtodo.HesaidheisgoingtoleavePayneupatMojaveWellsforfourextraweeks,whilehegetstogetherwithhiscommanders.He’sgoingtohavemepromotedbacktobeinganofficer.Hesaysthey’llstartmeoutassecondLieutenant.“Then, the very day the paperwork comes through, he is going to send me up to replace Payne at

MojaveWells,andleavemethereforthenexttwoorthreeyears.IhaveadegreeinMeteorology,andIknow all about forecasting and observing the weather. TheMajor said that he’s going to let me takecompletechargeofalloftheweatherstationsoutthereontheranges.AfterI’vebeenupthereamonthandI’vehadachancetogetsettled,he’sgoingtohavetheAirForcetrainingschoolsendoutsixoreightnewobserverswhoareinneedofon-the-jobtraining,andstationthemwithme.Hesaysthenewobserverswouldberotatedupthereforsixweeksatatime,onaflexibleschedule.Thentheywouldbereplacedwithanotherset.Thatway,hesays,theAirForcewillbeabletouseallofthosevacantfacilitiesasalargetrainingschoolwithmeincommand.ImightevenmakeColonelupthere.IfIhadasergeanttohelpme,likeDwight,aschoollikethatcouldhandleasmanyastwentystudents.TheMajorsaysthey’llbesuretoincludeobserverswhostartedtheircareersinothertradesandare

cross training into weather observing. He says that students like that always need someone who isunusuallypatientandhelpful,togetthemheadedintherightdirection,”Washingtonpausedforaminute,deepinthought.Thenhecontinued,“There’ssomethingelsewayoutthereontherangeswhichtheMajorwants me and Dwight to study too, but the Major didn’t say much about what it was,” concludedWashingtonslowly.“Makingyouanofficerisawonderfulidea,Washington!”Iexclaimed.“I’msohappyforyou.”“Thanks,Charlie,”hesaidgratefully.“I’mhappy,too.I’mjustasexcitedasIcanbe,butthere’sone

thingIdon’tunderstand.”“What’sthat?”Iasked.“TheMajorsaidthathecameupwiththisidearightafterhetalkedwithyou,onedaywhenyouand

O’Keefewereworkingthedayshifttogether.Iwasjustwonderingwhatyoutoldhimthatgothimstartedintherightdirection?”Laughingsomemore,Washingtoncontinued,“YouevenhavetheMajorbelievingthathethoughtupthatpartaboutDwight.”

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“ThepartaboutDwight?”Ianswered,playingdumb.“Nowdon’tgopullingthatonme,Charlie.”laughedWashington.“WhentheMajortoldmehowhe’d

thoughtupthisideaofsendingDwightuptherewithme,Iknewyou’dbeenuptosomething.”“ButDwight,wouldbeavaluablepersontohaveuptherewithyou,”Isaid.“You’dneedafriendfor

company.Dwightwouldcertainlykeepallof theotherairmen in lineandmaintain theproper levelofdiscipline in the ranks. He has somuch experience that he could handlemany of the routine trainingsessions.Heandhiswifegrewupinthecountryoutinthefarwest.They’reextremelyclose,andtheyenjoydoingallsortsof things together.Hecouldmovehis familyup to the townofMojaveWellsandsettledownforawhile.They’rewonderfulpeople.You,he,andhisfamilywouldallbequitehappy.”Smilingpleasantly,Washington replied, “You’re right,Charlie.Of course, youwere also rightwhen

youpointedouttotheMajorthatsuchanassignmentwouldguaranteemetheeventualrankofMajor,andDwight the rank of Master Sergeant. You’re the last person I’d ever argue with. Heck, if I won theargument,I’dbeafraidthatitwasbecauseyouwantedmetowin.”Bynow,thetwoofushadfinishedeating,andwebeganthelongwalkbacktothebarracks.Wespent

most of the time laughing. As we were approaching the barracks, I turned to Washington and saidseriously,“There’sonethingyouneedtorememberaboutMojaveWells,Washington.”“What?”heasked.“Remember the story Payne told. Never leave the roads or the prepared places around the range

loungesandgooffintothedesertbyyourself.Never,never,never!Nomatterwhat!Evenifyouthinkyouseepeopleoutinthedesertstarvingtodeath.It’stoodangerous.Justuseyourtrucktodriveintotownforhelp.Whenyougettoknowtheranges,thenyoucandecideforyourself.Butremember,especiallyatfirst,neverleavetheroadalone.”I thought I had made it clear enough, but I’m only human, I guess. I didn’t realize that he wasn’t

listening.Ididn’trealizethatonceagain,hismindwasracingonahead.Dumbtowhatwashappening,Icontinued, “And remember Washington, when you’re up there, you can tell me or Dwight or Steveanything,andwe’llbelieveyou.Remember,youcantellusanythingatall.”WewerejustreachingthebarrackswhenWashingtonnoticedthatMasterSergeantWalterswaswaiting

for us. Since itwas nowpast 6:00 in the evening,wewere quite surprised. “What’s up,Sergeant?” Iasked.Smiling,andapologetic,thesergeantanswered,“I’msorrytointerruptyourevening,butthere’sbeena

problemwithPayneupat thegunneryranges.TheMajorandIhavedecided tosendWashingtonup toMojaveWellsearly to replacePayne.Washington, I’ll takeyouup there tonight,andgetyou linkedupwithhim.I’llcomebackuponFridayandbringPaynebacktoDesertCenter.That’llgiveyouafewdaystolearntheropes.Tomorrow,I’llwalkthepaperworkthroughsoyou’llhaveyourordersandgetyourextrapay.ImayhavetomakeaspecialtripupthereonWednesdaytogetyoursignatureonsomeofthem,butdon’tworry,Washington,it’llallworkout.Anddon’tworry,theMajorhasalreadybegunworkonyourpromotiontoSecondLieutenant.”“WhathappenedtoPayne?”Iasked,showingvisibleconcern.“Oh,he’snothurt,buthehadanaccidentwiththetruck.Hewasdrivingbackfromrangeone,today.He

wasstilltenmilesfrombase,comingbackonthatgravelroad.”“Yes,Iknowitwell,”Istated.“Well,hemusthavebeendrivingsixtymilesanhouroutthere,andasafespeedonthatroadisn’tany

morethan35,”continuedthesergeant,obviouslyangrywithPayne.“Thetruckhitarockintheroadandwentintotheditch.Thetierodwasbentandthetruckcouldn’tbedriven.ThenPaynegotoutinthehotsunandstartedrunningtowardstown.Theaccidentmusthavescaredhimsomethingterrible.Imean,he

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grewupin thedesert.Heknowsbetter thantogooutrunningin thesummersunshineinsuchahotdryclimate.Anyway,hemadeitbacktotownonlybecausetherangeratssawhimfromfarawayandcametorescuehim.Italkedwithhimonthephone.Hesoundshalfwaycalmeddownnow.”“Maybe something was chasing him,” I suggested. “Both he and Sullivan have reported seeing

occasionalwhitecoyotesandotheranimallikethingsoutatrangeone.”“I find that hard to believe, Charlie.” responded the Master Sergeant angrily. “Coyotes and other

animalsdon’tchasetrucks,especiallyat60milesanhour.No, this isgoingtocostPayneastripe.I’mgoingtoasktheMajortoprepareanarticle15tomorrow,andifPaynegivesusanybacktalk,I’llasktheMajortogivehimasectioneightdischarge.”IcouldseetheSergeant’smindwasmadeup,andtherewaslittlepointinarguingwithhissixstripes.I

helpedWashingtonpack.By7:00intheevening,they’dleftandIwasaloneinthebarracks.Irememberhow happyWashington looked as he and the Sergeant got into the sergeant’s car. Even then, hismindseemedtoberacingonahead.Therestoftheweekflewpast,asdidthenextweek.ThencameWednesdaymorning.Ihadjustsigned

in.IwasworkingthedayshiftatDesertCenter.Itpromisedtobeaquietday.Theweatherwasclearandnearly calm. The rangeswouldn’t be used again for anotherweek.No one anywhere cared about theMojaveWellswindstoday.Therangewindswerecertaintobelightandvariable,hardlyworthwastingahelium balloon to measure them. The morning forecaster, Sergeant O’Keefe, realized this and gaveWashington the day off. When Washington called in the 4:30 winds, O’Keefe answered the phone.O’KeefetoldhimthatnomorewindswouldbeneededthatdayandsuggestedthatWashingtonspendthedayinPalmMeadowshavingfun.Yet,Washingtonrefusedtolocktheweathershackandspendthedayrelaxinginthecity.WithouttellingO’Keefe,Washingtondecidedtocontinuetheday’swindmeasurementschedule,anyway.He’dbroughthisGreekphilosophybookswithhim.Therewasnooneelseoutontherangestodisturbhim.Soinbetweentheseunnecessaryrunsheintendedtodosomereading.TheMajor,Master SergeantWalters, and the company clerkwere away at aweek long conference

downinLosAngeles.Soexceptfortheforecaster,Iwasaloneintheweatherstation.Thedutyforecasterwasholdingdowntheforecaster’sareaalone,soIhadtherestofthebuildingtomyself.Paynehadbeenbroughtback fromMojaveWells indisgrace.Hehad spent the time sitting in silent

depressedthoughtinthebarrackswhiletheMajorconsideredwhetherornottogivehimasectioneightdischarge.Paynehadn’ttakenthelossofastripsilently.HehadarguedwiththeMajor.He’dclaimedhehad a good reason for driving the truck in such a panicky fashion-a reason he said he’d be happy toexplaintotheMajor,ifhecoulddosoinprivate.TheMajorhadrefusedtherequest.TheMajorsaidhealreadyknewwhatthereasonwasandthatPayneneededmorediscipline.Washington had already phoned in the unnecessary 7:30 winds, so I was taken off guard when

Washingtonphonedin,stillagain,at8:15a.m.“Washington,”Iexclaimed,“I’msurprisedtohearfromyousosoon.”Washingtonwasmoreemotional

thanI’deverexperienced.“Charlie, thankGod it’syou!”heexclaimed,screaming.“ThankGodIhaveyoutohandlethis.”“What’shappened,Washington?”Iaskedinsurprise.“I’mouthereatrangethree.Ijustsawasolidwhiteairplanecrashoutinthedesert.Itappearstobethe

fuselageofalargeairliner.Itcrashedat8:13a.m.It’saboutamilenortheastoftheweathershack.Recordtheweatherfortheaccidentreport.I’mgoingouttheretohelpthepeople.Thatplanewillbeburninginaminute. I need you to send help as fast as you can. This is a real emergency! We’ll need lots ofambulances,helicopters,andfiretrucks.”“Butwait,Washington!”Ishoutedintothephone.“Don’tgooutthere!Youmustbewrong.You’rethe

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onlyoneout there!Airliners aren’t allowed to flyover thatwhole sectionofDesert!Therearen’t anyplanes flying anywhereup there today.There aren’t anyplanesup there to crash!Staywhereyouare!Listen to me, Washington!” I screamed into the phone. “Please. Listen to me! You’re all alone,Washington!Don’tgoouttherealone!”“Idon’thave time toexplainnow,Charlie,”hecontinued,stillnot listening,hismindstill racingon

aheadofmine.“Thosepeopleoutthereneedme.Itlookslikeit’sgoingtostartburning.Iseesmokeanddustover there. It looks likea largeairliner thathasalready lost itswings. Its tail sectionhasalreadybrokenoff.Itlooksbigenoughtohaveahundredorahundredandfiftypeopleonboard.Ihavetogooutandsavethem,Charlie.Ihavetogo!Ihavetosavethemfromtheflames!Sendmehelpassoonasyoucan.You’retheonlypersonI’vehadtimetophone.Ineedyourhelp.I’mdependingonyou!”Withthathehungup.Icouldtellthathehadn’tlistenedatalltome.Icouldtellhismindhadalready

goneracingonaheadoutintothathuge,emptydesert.Iquicklyrecordedtheweatherconditions.Theycouldhardlyhavebeenbetter,clearskies,lightwinds.

Then Iwalkedover to the emergencyphone to theDesertCenter tower.Picking it up, I said, “This isCharlie.I’mthedutyweatherobserver.”“HiCharlie,”answeredtheoperatorontheotherend.“Whatcanwedoforyou.”“IcalledtofindoutmoreaboutthatairplanecrashwhichjustoccurredupatMojaveWells,”Isaid.“Whatcrash?”answered theoperator.“I’vebeenondutysincesix thismorning.Therehaven’tbeen

anyairplanecrashes.Everyplaneoutthereisaccountedfor.”“Areyousure?”Iresponded,becomingmoremystifiedwitheachpassingminute.“OfcourseI’msure,Charlie,”answeredtheoperator.“Idon’thaveanythingelsetodowithmytimeon

adayliketoday.Ijustsitandtalktothepassingairplanes.Here,tomakeyouhappy,I’llcheckagainwiththeairtrafficcontrolcenteratPalmdale.”Ashortpauseensued.Thenhereturned,“I’mright.Everyplaneoutthereintheentiresouthwestisaccountedfor.”“ButWashington,theweatherobserverupatthegunneryrangesjustphonedmeandreportedseeingan

aircraftaccidentaboutonemilenortheastoftheRangeThreeweatherstation,”Iimplored.“Idon’tknowwhathecouldhavebeenlookingat,Charlie,butI’mtellingyou,itcouldn’thavebeenan

aircraftaccident.Wewouldhaveheardaboutitevenifithadbeensomehighlyclassifiedexperimentalmodel.”“Thanks,”Isaidandhungupthephone.Iphonedthebasehospitaltoseeiftheyhadheardanything.Likethetower,theywerecertainthatno

accidents had occurred on theMojaveWells ranges. Theywere certain that if one had occurred, theywouldhavebeeninformed.ItriedphoningbacktheRangeThreeweathershack.Therewasnoanswer.NowIhadarealproblem.Washingtonwasobviouslyaloneandout inthedesert.Sofar, therewasnohelpcoming.ItriedphoningthebarracksatMojaveWells.Therewasnoanswer.Ithoughtforaminute.Thenanidea

cametome.IphonedtheMojaveWellsmotorpool.MygoodfriendMarkanswered.AsIexpected,Steveandtherangeratswereplayingcardsinoneofthebuildingsinthebackofthemotorpool.Markpromisedtobringoneof them to thephone. I couldhardlyblame the range rats forplayinghookyonaday liketoday.Playingcardswasmucheasierthanpickingup25poundpracticebombslayingunderneathsomeraggedsagebrushinthishotsun.I waited patiently. After seven minutes had passed on my watch, Steve finally came to the phone.

“Hello,Charlie.”saidSteve.“It’sgoodtohearyourvoice.Whatdoyouwant?”“Hi,Steve,Washingtonseemstobehavingsomekindofemergencyoutatrangethree.Hephonedme

andsaidthataplanehadcrashedaboutamilenortheastoftherangethreeweathershack.Hesaidthathe

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wasdrivingovertheretohelp.He’souttherealone.IwashopingthatIcouldgetyouandsomerangeratstogooutthereandhelphim.”“No,sir,Charlie.”repliedSteve.“Notafterseeingthat thingthatwaschasingPayneacoupleweeks

back.Doug,Wayne,andIallsawitrealgood,upcloseandeverything.Paynemust’veupsetoldRangeFourHarryrealgood.We’djustassoongiveoldHarrysometimetosettlebackdown.Therangesaresupposed to be closed for today. That thing is still out there, you know, Charlie. IfWashington isn’tcareful,it’llbechasinghimtoo!”“ChasingPayne?”Iasked.Iwasn’tsureI’dheardhimright.“Well,itwasn’treallychasinghim,ifyouknowwhatImean,”saidSteve.“Ifithadwantedto,itwould

caughthimimmediately.Itwasjustscaringhimsohe’dgobacktobase.“Butjustbecauseit’syou,Charlie,I’lltellyouwhatI’lldo.Igatherupsomeoftheboysandwe’lltake

twoorthreetrucksouttorangethree.We’llstayfarapartforsafety,likewealwaysdowhenthosethingscome inclose. I’llphoneyou from the range three loungewhenwegetout there.Thenwe’ll seewhatwe’regoingtodonext.”“Thanks,Steve.I’msurethatWashingtonwillappreciateit,too.“Don’tworry,Charlie.I’llphoneyouassoonaswegetoutthere.”repliedSteve.WiththatStevehungupthephone.Icheckedagainwiththecommandpost.Theresimplycouldn’thave

been an aircraft accident up at the gunnery ranges. Every single airplane was accounted for. Havingnothingelsetodo,IwentbacktomyweatherdutiesandwaitedpatientlyforSteve’scall.Timepassed.Firstseconds,thenminutes,thenalengthoftimethatseemedlikeaneternity.Markphoned,andinformedmethatSteveandalloftherangerats,usingthreetrucks,hadgoneoutto

helpWashington.Hewasincommunicationwiththembywayofthetwo-wayradiosthetruckscarried.AccordingtoMark,Steveinsistedthatonetruckwaitattherangethreegateandguaranteethatthegate

remainedopen.Steveorderedthesecondtruck,drivenbyWayne,towaitonthepavedroadaboutamiledownfromtherangethreebuildings.Steveinsistedthatthetruckfirstturnaroundandwaitwhilepointedback towards base. He also insisted that Wayne wait with the engine running. Wayne obviouslyunderstoodwhy.OnlySteveandDougwouldgodowntotherangethreeweathershack.MarksaidDougwasdriving towards thebuildingsveryslowlywhileStevewatched.Hesaidother than that,hedidn’thaveanyinformation.After still another longwait, the phone rang. Itwasnow11:45 a.m. ItwasSteve.He soundedvery

serious,“I’msorryittookmesolongtocall,butfirstwehadtotalktoWashington.”“Whatisit,Steve?”Iasked.“WasWashingtonthere?”“Oh,hewasthereallright,Charlie.It’samightygoodthingyoucalledustocomegethim.Tobegin

with,youcancancelyouraircraftemergency.Therearen’tanyaccidentsuphere,”saidSteve.“WhataboutWashington?”Iasked.“YoubettertellthemajortosendupanexperiencedreplacementlikeyouorPayne,andnottoexpect

anymorewindreportsfortoday.DougandIwillbringWashingtondownassoonashe’sabletotravel,”continuedSteve.“He’snotgoingtobeabletomakethetripalone.”“Whatisit,Steve?Hashebeenhurt?”Iasked.“Yes,Charlie,theyhurthimrealbad.Theydidsomethingtohim.Itlookstomeliketheyburnedhim,up

on the forehead.Maybehismindwill snapout of itwhenhegets some restwithyoudownatDesertCenter.“DougandIgotherelikeyouasked.Whenwedroveup,histruckwasparkedinfrontoftheshackwith

theenginerunning.Hewashystericalwithterror.Thedooronthedriver’ssideofhistruckwasopen.Hewassittinginhistruckonthepassengerside,soIthinktheyweretheonesthatdrovehimbackhere.He

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hardlyknewuswhenwegothere.Hesaidthatwhentheysawuscoming,theytookoffrunning.Hesaidifwehadn’tcome,they’dhavekilledhimforsure.”“Who,Steve?Whodrovehimbacktotheshack,”Iasked.“Wewentouttherealittlewaysandsawwhathesaw.ItwasthatsamethingthatwaschasingPaynea

coupleweeksago.It’sstilloverthereinalittlehollowoutinthedesert.It’sdowninthesagebrush.Youcan’tseeitfromhere.ItmustnothaveknownthatWashingtonwasanywherearoundwhenhedroveoverthere.Hemusthavegottenontopofitbeforetheyknewhewascoming.Ithinkhesurpriseditprettybad.“HehadhistruckparkedoutbackbetweenthebuildingslikePayneandIshowedhim,sothatnothing

would know he was here, since Range Four Harry is always mighty curious, you know.Washingtonprobablyhadallofthedoorstotheshackclosedatthetimetoo.Allbuttoneduplikethat,theymusthavedecidedtheplacewasdeserted,andfeltitwassafetocomeinclose.“Justaminute!Doug in the trucksays that thing’sstarted tomove.Wehave togetWashingtonoutof

herenow!We’llbringhimdowntoyou!Bepatient.It’lltakeusawhile.”“Butshouldn’tyoutakehimtothehospitalfirst?”Iasked.“No,Charlie,No!”shoutedSteveemotionally.InthebackgroundIcouldhearDouglayingonthetruck

horn,screaming,“ComeOn!Steve!It’scomingthisway!Let’sgetouthere,now!”Withthat,Stevehungupthephone.Iwasstunned.Icouldhardlymakeanysenseoutofwhathadhappened.Afterthinkingaboutthingsfora

while, I phoned the Desert Center weather barracks. Payne answered, with deep depression andrepressedangerobviousinhisvoice.“Payne,”Isaidpleasantly.“WashingtonisinsomekindoftroubleupattheWells.They’rebringinghimdownnow.You’regoingtohavetogobackuptheretonight.You’llhave to takeover therangesuntil themajorgetsback.You’llhave toget thingsback inorder.They’rereallygoingtoneedamanwithyourexperienceupthere.Theycouldn’tpossiblygiveyouasectioneightnow. If theydid, theywouldn’t have anybodywith experience left to cover the ranges.Let’s go to theeveningsupperatthechowhalltogether,assoonasI’moffduty.Youknowyouneverdidtellmehowthataccidenthappened.”“IhavetogobacktotheWells?”askedPayne.Hisspiritswereobviouslystartingtopickup.“I’mnot

goingtobethrownoutoftheAirForce?”“Yes,Payne.Ibelievethat’sright,”Ianswered.“I’mprettysurethatDwightwillagreewithme.Asyou

know,themajorleftDwightinchargeoftheweatherobserverswhileheandSergeantWaltersareaway.Bythetimetheygetback,youwillhaverackedupanimpressiverecordforbeingthemanofthehour.They’llthinkofyouastheniceyoungmanwhoworkedhardandsavedtheday.Themajorwillprobablygiveyoualittlelecturefordrivingtoofast,andprobablyhaveyouwashthewindowshereattheweatherstationacoupleoftimes.ButI’mprettysurethis’llgetyouoffthehook.”“Butwhataboutyou?Whycan’ttheyjustsendyouupthere,dischargeme,andaskforsomenewtroop

tohelpoutdownhereatDesertCenter?”askedPayne.“Ohtheycouldneverdothat,”Isaid,“I’vebeenhavingthesebadstomachpainsfromeatingthefoodat

thechowhall,”Iresponded,laughing.“IfeelfinewhenI’mmovingaroundalot,likehereattheDesertCenterweatherstation.Youknowhow,onceinawhilethisfluIhave,hasbeengivingmedizzyspells.Itwouldn’tbesafeformetogouptoMojaveWellsalone,rightnow.Iwon’tbe inshapetogobackupthereuntilafterIcangetintoseethedoctor.WhenIdo,I’mprettycertainthatthehospitalwillwanttowatchthisflufortwo,maybethreeweeksatleast.”“Oh,right,”saidPayne,finallylaughingforthefirsttimesincehisaccident.Thenhecontinued,“You

know,Charlie,somedaysyoucan’tlieworthadarn.You’dbetterworkonthatonewhileI’mupthere.”IsaidgoodbyetoPayneandcheckedwithDwight.Hewasincompleteagreementandsaidhe’dinform

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themajor.IstillrememberhowlongDwightlaughedwhenhephonedmeback.Hesaid,“Charlie,Italkedwith themajor.He agreedwithourplan.He’s really concerned aboutWashington.He said thatPayneshouldthankGodthathehasafriendlikeyou.”Dwightcontinuedlaughing,“Themajorsaidthere’snoreasonforyoutopretendtobesufferingdownatthehospitaljusttoconvincehimtoletPayneofthehook.He said ifyou’renot careful, they’ll takeyourappendixoutdown there just for the funof it.”Dwightlaughed somemore, “Themajor toldme, ‘HaveCharlie spend an evening inspecting some showgirlsdownonthestrip,andthenhavehimshowupfordutycomplainingabouteyestrain.I’llbelievethatoneforatleastthreeweeks.’Hewaslaughinghisgutsoutatthetime.”HavingfinishedtalkingwithDwight,Isaidgood-byeandreturnedtomyduties.Theafternoondragged

onslowlyasIwaitedforWashington.Finally,at3:10intheafternoon,Washingtonwalkedslowlyintothedesertedfrontofficeoftheweather

station.Obviouslydizzy,hestaggeredwhenhewalked.Positioninghimselfnexttoachair,inthemiddleoftheopenfloorspace,hestoodtherequietly,andwaitedformetocomefindhim.ThroughthewindowsIcouldseeSteveandDougdrivingoff.“Washington!”Iexclaimedgently,“AreyouOK?”Obviouslyinintensepain,hetriedtospeak.Atfirsthewastotallyincoherent.Iofferedhimachairbut

herefusedtositdown.Finally,hefoundsomewordshecouldsay.“I’mgoingtoseetheneurosurgeon!”hepronouncedslowlyandforcefully.“Tellmeabout it,Washington,” I saidgently. “Youknow I’ll understand.Youknowyoucan tellme

anything.YouknowI’llbelieveyou.”Hestammeredincoherentlyforalongtime.Thenhebegancryingintensely.Hisanguishwasobviously

toomuchforhimtobear.“You know I’ll understand,” I continued gently. “You know I’ve been out theremyself,Washington.

Whateverisoutthere,youknowImusthavealreadyseenmyself,fromfaroff.”Washington stopped crying for a fewminutes, andbeganbreathingdeeply.He started speaking very

slowly,verydeliberately,andveryquietly.Inbetweenhisstammeringandhistears,hesaid,strugglingtofindhisselfcontrol,“Iwasonlytryingtohelpthem.Ithoughttheyweredying.Ithoughtitwasgoingtoburn.Icouldn’tdriveanyfarther.Thesagebrushwastoothickoutthere.Igotout.Iran.Iranonahead.Iwenttosavethemfromthefire.Igottotherise.Atlast,Icouldseeit.Itlaythere.Itlookedlikeabigairplanewithoutwingsoratail.Ishoutedforthemtogetoutoftherebeforeitburned.Ishoutedatit.Ithrewrocksatit.Itriedtobreakthewindows,sothepeoplecouldgetoutbeforeitburned,butwhenIthrewtherocks,theywouldn’tevenreachit.“Suddenlythedooropened,andfourmonsterscamerunningoutatme.Theywerewhiteandterrible.

Theywereangrylittlemutants.Theyhadclawsandgrowledatmelikeangrycoyotes.Icouldn’trun.Theywereallaroundmegrowlingandjumping.Theyranallaroundme.Iwastrapped.“Thenayoungwhitewomancamerunningout.Themonstersmusthavekidnappedherandmadeher

theirslave.Theywereterrible.SheshoutedatmeinEnglish.SomehowsheknewwhatIwasthinking.Shewasshouting,‘theyareonlyplayingwithyou.Runaway.Don’thelpme.’“Icouldn’t leaveher there. Icouldn’t leaveher to those terriblemonsters. Igrabbedherarm.Itwas

purewhiteandthin.Theymustnothaveevenfedher.Then,shebeganfightingme.Shebegangrowlingatmelikeacoyote,liketheterriblelittlemonsters.Itriedtorun.Itriedtotakeherwithme.“Thentwomencamerunningoutofthefuselage.Theyweresoangry!Theyalmostkilledme!Icouldn’t

fightthem!TheywerescreaminginEnglish,‘youidiot.Youstupididiot!Runyouidiot!Runforyourlife!’“Itried.GodknowsItriedtorun,butIcouldn’t!Iletgoofthegirl.Iwasgoingtoleaveherbehind!I

couldn’tfightthem.Theyweretoostrong!Theyhadclawsandgrowledatmelikeangrydogs,andhorses!

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Ihadtoleaveherbehind.Itriedtoturnbutthemonsterswereeverywhere.TherewasnothingIcoulddo!Themonsterswereintheway.Igrabbedoneofthemandslappedhimoutoftheway.“Thenthemengotsoangry.Icouldn’tthinkanymore.Iwassohelpless.Oneofthementookoutalittle

squarewhitepencil,andheburnedme!Hepointeditrightatmyforeheadandheburnedme.Ithurtsobad. Iwas helpless. I couldn’t think anymore! I couldn’t tellwhatwas happening anymore.Themengrabbedmeandstarteddraggingmetowardsmytruck.Thentheydroppedmeinthesand,andoneofthemwentandgotmy truckwhile theotheronescreamedatme inEnglish. Iwas lying thereon theground,crying.Iwassoterrified.Iwasbeggingthemnottokillme.Theonebymewasscreaming,‘youstupidpig.Youarenotevensupposedtobeoutheretoday!Theywereonlyplaying.Youhitthelittlegirl!Wewillkillyouforthat!Yougrabbedtheteacher!Doyouthinksheishelpless?Doyouthinkwearefools?Doyou thinkwebringheroutherewithnoweapons?Sheshouldhavekilledyou! I intend tokillyoumyselfassoonastheCaptainletsme.’“Theybroughtmytruckandjammedmeintothepassengerseat.Onemangotintothedriver’sseatand

theotheroneclimbedintotheback.Theystartedtakingmedowntheroadtowardsrangefour.Thegirlsavedmylife.Sheranovertothetruckandgrowledsomethingatthebothofthem.Thensheshoutedatme,“Thelittlegirlisgoingtobealright,sowearegoingtoletyoulive.Don’tevercomeouthereagain.Wewillkillyouifyouevercomeouthereagain.Doyouhearme?Wewillkillyou!“Thenthegirlstayedbehind.Wehavetofindher.Wehavetorescueher.Iwashelpless.Theyhadme

inthetruck.Iwasoutofmymind.Theylookedallwhitewithlargeblueeyes,blondehair,andclaws.Theydrovemebacktotheshack.Theywerescreamingatmealltheway.Themandrivingusedthepencilonmyforeheadagainandagain.Thepainwasawful!Icouldn’tstandthepain.Hewasscreaming,‘Areyou going to get out of here? Are you going to get out of here?’ I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasscreaming.Iwasbeggingformylife!Ipassedoutinmytruck.WhenIcameto,Stevewasthere.ThankGodIcalledyou,Charlie.ThankGodStevewasthere!“I can’t take the pain anymore, Charlie. I’m going to the neurosurgeon. ThankGod youwere here,

Charlie! I’mhurt realbad,waydown,deep insidemyhead. I can’t thinkanymore. Ihave togo to theneurosurgeon.All Iwasdoingwashelping them,Charlie.All I didwas runonahead so I couldhelpthem.Ijustwantedtosavethemfromthefire.”Withthat,heturnedslowlyandleftthebuilding.Icouldseehimstumblingslowlyacrosstheparkinglot

towardsthehospital.Heseemedtobecrying,stillinabjectterror.ThatwasthelasttimeIeversawWashington.Therumoronbasewasthattheneurosurgeongavehim

six months R & R leave to be taken in his hometown back in Ohio. According to the rumor, theneurosurgeonorderedhim to locatesixofhis favoritehighschoolgirl friendsandreportonwhat theyweredoingnow.Theneurosurgeonwasalsorumoredtohaveaskedhimtofileasimilarreportonsixofhisfavoritehighschoolfriendswhowereyoungmen.Asrequestedbytheneurosurgeon,theAirForcepromotedWashingtonbacktotheofficer’sranks.Theymadehimasecondlieutenant.ThentheairForceincreasedhissalaryanextra$30dollarsadaytocoverhistravelexpenses.Aftersixmonths,rumorhaditthathestillhadn’timproved,sotheAirForcegavehimanhonorabledischarge.Theyalsoawardedhiman85%disabilityformentalreasons,non-revocableforlife.TheeveningmealcamequicklyatDesertCenter.6:00p.m.foundPaynewalkingbesidemeacrossthe

gravel coveredvacant lot that formed thepath to the chowhall.His spiritswere soaring, andhenowfoundplentyoftopicstodiscuss.Aswewalked,Iaskedhim,“Payne,whatwasit likeupat theWellswhenyouwerethere?”Paynethoughtforaminuteorso.Choosinghiswordscarefully,heresponded,“Youknowhowscary

those buildings out at range three can be, especially on dark nights. I just can’t believe that youwere

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willingtogooutthereat3:30a.m.alone.WhenIwasupthere,Iwouldn’tgoanywhereoutontherangesatnight.Eveninthedaytime,Iwouldn’tstayoutontherangesaloneinbetweenballoonruns.Iwouldjustdriveslowlyouttotherange,taketheballoonreadingsquickly,anddrivebackintotownrealfast.WhenIamalone,Idon’tstayoutthereeventodothecalculations.Idrivebacktothebarracksonbaseandphonetheminfromthere.”“Beforemytruckaccident,”Paynecontinued,“Iusedtogoforshortwalksoutinthesagebrushdownat

rangeone,butnotanymore.”“Whathappenedonthedayyouhadyouraccident?”Iasked.Paynesatquietlyforafewminutesbeforeanswering.Thenheansweredcalmly,“Oneafternoondown

on range one, after I had finished all ofmy balloon runs, I had just closed up the shackwhen I sawsomething small andwhitea shortwaysout in the sagebrush. I thought itmightbea rabbitorayoungcoyoteso Iwentwalkingout into thesagebrush tocatch it. It startedbarkingandyelping,and tookoffrunningthroughthesagebrush.Itookoffrunningafterit.Ichaseditforashorttime.Ialmostcaughtit,butitgotawayfromme.Then,fromthreeorfourotherplacesdownintherangeonevalleyIcouldhearalotofbarkingandyelping,andIgotkindofscared,andItookoffrunningtomytruck.OnceIgotmytruckrunning,Ispunthetiresandgotoutoftherefast.“Thenextafternoon,Ihadfinishedtakingthereadingsforthelastrunoftheday,andIhadjustclosed

uptheweathershackdownatrangeone.Asusual,Iwasgoingtodrivebacktomybarracksonbase,dothecalculations,andphoneDesertCenterfromthere.AsIwaswalkingtowardsthetruck,somethingtallandwhitestoodupoutinthesagebrush.Itwasn’tveryfaroutthere,maybeonlyahundredfeetorso.Youknow,Charlie,howI’malittlenearsighted.Inthebrightsunlightlikethat,wellIcouldn’tbecertainwhatitwas.Ispoketoitbuttherewasnoresponse.Asitstoodthere,itseemedtobewaitingformetocomeoutandgetacloserlook,soIwalkedouttowardsitveryslowly.I’dtakeafewstepsatatime.ThenIwouldstopandwaitforafewminutes.Itjuststoodtherelookingatme.Afterdoingthisafewtimes,Ifoundmyself,probablyonly25feetfromit.NowIcouldseeitveryclearly.Itappearedtobealadyinanurse’suniform.Shehadchalkwhite skinandunusually largeeyes.Then I saw that shehadonly fourfingersonherhandsandthatinsteadoffingernailsshehadlongsharpclaws.Ibecamefrozeninfear.AssoonasIhadbecomeafraid,shespoketomeusingperfectEnglish.ShesaidthatwhenIcamedowntorangeone,Ishouldn’tgochasingthingsoutinthesagebrush.ShesaidthatIshoulddothingsmorelikeyouhad.Sheevenreferredtoyoubyname,Charlie.Shesaidthatyouseldomwenthikingoutinthedesert.Whenyoudid,youneverwentchasingafterthethingsyousaw.ShesaidIshouldbemorelikeyouandbecontenttojustlookatthingsfromadistance.BynowIwassoafraidIcouldn’thaveevenwhisperedananswer.ThenshesaidthatIhadbeenchasingoneofthechildrenthedaybefore.Theladysaidthechildwassoterrifiedthatthechildwillhavetorestforatleasttwoweeksbeforeitcanbetakenonanotherfieldtripoutintothedesert.Asmypunishmentshesaid,shewantedtomakesurethatIknewhowitfelttobeafraid.ThenaboutaquarterofamilebehindherIsawthislargewhitecraftriseupoutofadepressioninthesagebrushwhereithadbeenhiding.Itlookedsortoflikethefuselageofapassengerplane,onlyitdidn’t havewings or a tail or visible engines or anything.That’swhen I finally panicked. I justwentberserkwithfear.IalmosttrippedovermyownfeetasIturnedaroundandstartedrunningtowardsmytruck.Itellyou,IranfasterthanIhaveeverruninmylife.Iclimbedintomytruck,startedtheengine,andjustflooredthegaspetaltryingtogetoutofthere.Icouldseeitchasingmeinmymirror.Theycouldhavecaughtmeanytime,buttheymusthaveonlywantedtoscareme.Theydidarealgoodjobofittoo.”“That’swhyyouweredrivingsofastandlostcontrolofthetruckononeofthosecurves?”Iasked.“Yes,”answeredPayne.“Iwon’tgobackouttheretoRangeOne.Nosir,notevenifsomeonewasto

putaguntomyhead.Fromnowon,everytimeDesertCenterasksforrangeonewinds,I’mgoingtojust

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makethemuplikealloftheotherguysexceptyou,usedto.“Ican’tbelieveallthethingsyoudidouttherealone,Charlie.”saidPaynethoughtfully.“Therangerats

tellmethatbesidesRangesThreeandFour,yougoouttoRangesOneandTwobyyourself.Somedaysthey’devenseeyoudrivingwayoutthere,outbeyondRangeFour,allalone.Charlie,you’vegotsomeguts!”“Sowhenyougooutthere,youtakesomeoneelsewithyou?”Iasked.“Isuredo,”answeredPayne.“UsuallyItakeDoug.NothingwilleversneakuponDoug.Whenwego

out there, we have to drive all around behind the buildings and everywhere before Doug is satisfiedwe’realone”.“Except foryou,Steve is thebestone to takeout there.Heknows themostabout the ranges,andhe

nevertakesanychances.”“ButItellyou,Charlie,nobodycancomparewithyou.Everyoneoftherangeratssaysthat,youknow.

Theyallsaythattheydon’tfeelsafeouttherewhenyou’renotthere.Isureagreewiththem.”“That’sasurprise,Payne.Iwonderwhytheywouldfeelthatway?”Iresponded.“It’s because you think things through and keep your head about you when something unexpected

happens.Everyonehasnoticedit.LikethatdayyousenttheairpolicemanandthetowtruckouttoRangeTwo.”Ianswered.“Tellme,Payne,whatdidscaretherangeratsthatday?Theyneverwouldtellme.They

alwaystellyoumorethantheytellme.”“RangeFourHarry,”Heanswered.“Therangeratssaidthatwhenitcametimeforlunch, their truck

wouldn’tstart.Thentheyallwalkedthemileorsouptotheloungetocallforhelp.Theysaythatwhenthey got there they sawRange FourHarry standing inside one of those old aircraft hangers up by themountains, watching them. They panicked and ran into the lounge and locked all of the doors andwindows.Thephonewouldn’twork,andtheydidn’tknowwhattodo,sotheyallhidinside,shakingintheirboots.Theysayhelookedmorelikeayoungladywearingawhitenurse’suniform.”“Gee,nowI’mreallyconfused,Payne,”Ianswered.“Whatkindofwomaninawhitenursinguniformis

outstanding inanoldaircrafthanger,makingsounds likeahorse,scaringservicemenonagovernmentbase,22milesfromthenearesttown,onahotsummerdayinthisdesert?”“Ican’tmakeanysenseofiteither,”SaidPayne.“ButBryan,theairpoliceman,walkedupthereslowly

andsawherfromadistance.Hethoughtitwasthesamewomanwhowaswaitingforyouinthebarracks,thenightafteryouleftandcamebacktoDesertCenter.”“Waitingforme?”Iexclaimedinsurprise.“GeePayne,IneverhadanywomeninthebarrackswhenI

wasupatMojaveWells.”“Well,youknowhowyoualwaysstayedinthatlongdoublebarracksdownbytherunwaybeforeSteve

hadyoumoveinto thebarrackswith therestof theguys?”saidPayne.“Youknow,itwasoneof thosebarrackswheretherangeratsswearthey’veseenwhiteghosts?”“Yes.Itwasthatsinglestorybarrackswithsectionsandashowerandbathroomareainbetween.Both

sectionswerereallylong.Exceptforme,itwasdeserted.Butitdidhavebunksfor76men.”“Didanythingunusualeverhappenwhileyouwerestayingthere?”askedPayne.“Sure, Payne,” I answered. “Many things happened in that barracks that I have never told anyone. I

never felt like I was in danger, or that I was threatened in any manner. But that was a mighty scarybarrackstooccupy.Thelightsinthatbarracksdidn’tlightitup,andthereweredarkshadowsallovertheplace.Therewereonlyacoupleofwindowsintheentirebarrackssoyoucouldneverseeoutside.Itellyou,Payne,ittookcouragetowalkintothatplacealoneatmidnight.“SinceIwastheonlyoneintheentirebarracks,IcouldsleeponanybunkIwantedto.WhenImoved

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in,Ipickedthebunkclosesttothebathroomandshowers.Thatwasinsectionone.Foracoupleofdaysitworkedoutall right.Then thingsstartedhappening in thesectionbetweenmeand thedoorwayon thatend.”“Things?”askedPayne.“Yes,unexplainedthings,”Icontinued.OnenightIwalkeddowntheaisletothebathroom.BythetimeI

camebackuptheaisle,Idiscoveredthatmorethantwohourshadpassed,butIswearthatIhadn’tspentmorethantenminutesinthebathroom.Afterafewweeksofthesestrangeeventsgoingon,Idecidedtochange compartments so that I’d feel safer. I chose the compartment closest to the door. That way, Ireasoned,nomatterwhathappenedIwouldbeabletogetoutsidetomytruck.Thisworkedfineforafewdays. Then, it started up again. It seemed like my mind started playing tricks on me. In one of thecompartmentsinsectiontwo,everynowandthenitseemedliketherewasanintelligentsheetfloatinginoneofitscorners.Ineverhadthecouragetoactuallywalkdownintosectiontwoforacloserlook.“Thentherewasthataircraftmechanicwhostayedinthebarrackswithmeforafewdays.They’dsent

himupfromDesertCentertorepairthatF105thatwasforcedtolandatMojaveWellswhenitsenginequit.Well,heonlystayedintherewithmeforafewdaysbeforeheleftthebarracksonenightinabsolutepanic.Heclaimedhewokeupinthemiddleofthenight,andtherewassomethingwhitestandingintheaisleway.Heneverwouldgobackintothebarracks,eventogethisbelongings.SteveandIhadtogoinandgetthemforhimthenextday.“After he left, things starting getting really scary.When I would walk frommy compartment to the

bathroom,sometimesitseemedlikesomeofthedarkcompartmentsonbothsidesoftheaisleheldsheetsofwhiteclothorwhitewallpaperwhichIneverdaredtolookat.Theninthemornings,whenIgotupat3:00a.m.,sometimesitseemedlikeIwasn’talone.WhenIwouldbeshavinginthebathroom,itseemedlikesomethingwaswatchingmefromthedarkness.Itseemedlikesomethingwasjustrealcuriousabouteverything I did. But it didn’t seem to be curious about me, so much, as it seemed to want to studyeverythingIhad.It felt likemorethananything, itwantedtoreachoutandgrabmyrazor,mysoap,myaftershave,everythingIhad,andlookatmythingsupclose.“ThenInoticedthatwhateveritwas,itseemedlikeitknewwhatIwasthinking.OnenightIhadparked

mytruckinthatgravelparkinglotacrossthestreet.WhileIwasstillinthebathroom,itfeltlikeitaskedmeinaplayfulspirit,“Whatarewedoingnext?”Without paying much attention, I answered by thinking, “Now I’m going to walk to my truck.”

Immediately,itfeltlikeitwasreallyhappy,ImeanhappierthanIcandescribe,andthatitwasgoingtorunonaheadofmesothatitcouldwatchmegetintomytruck.Itseemedhappierthananykidiswhenhe’splayinghisfavoritegame.ItseemedlikeitjustwentskippingoutthroughthehalfopendoortothebarracksbeforeIcouldeventurnaroundtoseewhatitwas.ThenIfeltlikeIwasaloneagain.IstartedwonderingifIwaslosingmymarbles.Butthen,whenIgotouttomytruck,asIwasopeningthedoor,IbecamecertainthatIwasbeingwatchedbythatsamesomething.Itjustseemedtobestandingontheothersideofthebarracks,theonethatDougalwayssaysishaunted.Itfeltlikeitwasjusthappyandplayfulandthatitenjoyedplayinggameswithme.WhenIlookedovertowardsthatbarracks,Icouldseesomesoftwhitefluorescentlightcomingoutfrombehindit.Itellyou,Payne,I’mcertainthattherewassomethingrealplayinggameswithme.“OnedayIbecamecertainthatsomethinghadverycarefullytakeneveryitemoutofmyduffelbagand

verycarefullyputitbackin.Iwasstunned.Therewasjustnowayaroundit.Ihadjustdonemylaundrythenightbefore. I hadcarefullyplacedall ofmycleanclothes inmyduffelbag.When Igotup in themorningat3:00a.m.,Iintentionallyplacedmyduffelbagontopofmybunk.I’mcertainthatitwassittingonthebottomofmypillowswhenIleftfortheranges.

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“When I cameback tomybarracksat theendof theday, I can’t explainmysurprise.Therewasnoquestion about it,my duffel, had beenmoved at least 6 inches.When I looked inside, I could hardlybelievemyeyes.Everysinglepieceofmyclothinghadbeenremovedfromthebag,carefullyunfolded,carefullyrefolded,andcarefullyplacedbackinmybag.AfewofmyclotheshadbeenplacedbackinmybaginadifferentsequencethanthesequenceIused.Ihardlyknewwhattothinknext.“Then I started takingmy flashlightwithmewhenever Iwent anywhere in thebarracks.Thatway, I

could shine some light into the dark shadowswhenever Iwent to the bathroomorwalked through thebarracks. One night, it was way past midnight and I had already gone to sleep. I woke up suddenlybecauseIhadtogotothebathroom.Grabbingmyflashlight,Iquicklygotupandwenthurryingdowntheaisle to relievemyself.As Iwaswalkingback, I let the light ofmy flashlight fall into all of thedarkcornersintheemptycompartmentsalongtheaisleway.Theyweren’tallthesame.AsIwalkedpastoneofthem,myheartnearlystoppedinshock.Iwastoostunnedtodoanythingbutkeepwalkingbacktotheendof thebarrackswheremybunkwas.IwassoshockedthatIcouldn’tactuallybecomefrightened.Icouldn’t actuallybelieve thatwhat Ihad seenwas real. It looked like therewasanarrowwhite sheethangingupagainstoneofthewalls,maybesixfeettallandthreefeetwide.Iknewithadn’tbeentherebefore.Mymindmusthavebeenplaying tricksonmebecause thesheet looked like itwasavibrantlyalivetotallywhiteyoungwomanwithintelligentblueeyeslookingbackatme.“Iwassostunned,Ijustkeptwalkingbacktomybunkandsatdown.Irememberthinkingthattherewas

no point in running. I remember thinking that Imight aswell lay down and go back to sleep becausewhateveritwas,ifithadn’tkilledmeyet,itprobablywasn’tgoingto.“The next morning, I didn’t use the bathroom until after the sun came up. When I checked the

compartment, therewasnothingthere.But the thingthatconvincedmethatIhadseensomethingreal isthat therewasn’t anything there that couldhavebeenmistaken for awhite sheet, either. I tell you, thatcompartmentwasabsolutely,totally,emptyofeverythingexceptthemetalbunk.“That day, I changed compartments. I chose the compartment thatwas down at the other end of the

barracks. I chose the last bunk downby the outside door to section two.Then, Iwould never use thebathroomortheshowersaftersundown,unlessIwasabsolutelyforced.Evenso,manynightsitstilltookgutstosleepinthatbarracks.“ThenInoticedthatonmanywarmsummermornings,whenIgotupat3:00a.m.,thedoorontheeast

endofthebarrackswouldbeproppedopen.Thatdoordidn’thaveanystepsoutsideofit.Itopenedtothenorth.Itopenedoutdirectlytotheflightline.IbegancarefullyinspectingthedoorbeforeIwenttobed.I’mcertainthateverynightIcloseditsecurely.SomenightsIlockedit,andstayedupuntilaftermidnightwatchingthedoor.ManynightsIevenleftthelightson.Yet,morningaftermorningIwouldgetupandthedoorwouldbeproppedopen.Onenight,rightaftereveningchow,Ispentahalfhouroverintheairman’sclubbeforereturningtomybarracks.ThenIwenttobedearly.Igotupatmidnightjusttowatchthedoortoseewhowasopeningit.Tomysurprise,whenIgotupatmidnight,thedoorwasalreadyproppedopen.IdecideditmeantthatwhoeverwasopeningthedoorhadtohaveawayofknowingifIwassleeping,beforeopeningthedoor.Butthereasonitmademebreakoutinacoldsweat,wasbecauseitalsomeantthatwhoeverwasdoingit,alsohadtobemonitoringmymovementsfromsomedistantplaceoutinthedesertnorthof thebasearea.Thisrealizationreallyfrightenedmefora time,becausemycompartmentdidnothaveanywindows,andthebarracksdoesnothaveanywindowsonthenorthside.“One morning, I was determined I was going to find out who was opening the door while I was

sleeping.Igotupat3:00a.m.Onceagain,someonehadalreadyproppedopenthedoor.Iquicklyshaved,brushedmyteeth,andgotdressed.ThenIwentovertogetacloserlookatthedoorway.Inoticedthatmybarrackswas isolated from theotherbarracks. I alsonoticed therewerenootherbuildingsatMojave

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WellsbetweenmybarracksandthedesolatedesertcoveredmountainsandvalleysstretchingtothenorthofMojaveWells.Istartedwonderingaboutthat,soIwenttomytruck,andstarteditup.Idrovearoundthebasecheckingeveryotherdoor,beforeheadingouttotakethemorningweatherrun.EveryotherdooronMojaveWellsbasewasclosed.Why,Iwondered,wouldtheonlydoorthatopenedoutintotheemptydesertbeofinteresttoanyone…anyoneexceptRangeFourHarry?“ThenonenightIwasawakenedbyanoiseinmybarracks.Iquicklygotdressed,wentoutside,locked

myselfintomytruck,andwaited.Isawsomewhitepeoplelikecreaturesrunoutfrommybarracksintothe sagebrush in the desert northwest ofmy barracks.Theywere running twice as fast as anOlympicrunneriscapable.Iwasabundleofnervesforawhile.Afterafewdaysthough,IdecidedthatIhadtoprotectmysanity-atanyprice. Idecided to just forcemyself to forgeteverything thathadhappened. Inorder toprotectmysanity, I taughtmyself to justclose thedoor in themorning, shaveandgetdressedwithoutaskingmyselfanyquestions.ItrainedmyselftojustignoreanylightsIsawoutinthedesert,andjustwalk tomy trucksingingmyhappysongs.Somemornings, Iwaspraying toGodeverystepof theway.ThispolicyofdenialletmefinallysettledownandenjoybeingstationedatMojaveWells.“Ibelieveyou,Charlie,”SaidPayne.Remembertheweekyoutrainedme,howyoureturnedtoDesert

CenteronThursdayafternooninsteadofstayinguntilFridaylikewetoldDesertCenteronthephone?”“Yes,”Ianswered.“YouweretrainedandIwantedtoleaveearlysoIcoulddatePamela.”“Thatwasperfectly finewithme,Charlie,”answeredPayne.“Thatwasn’tanyproblematall. I just

thoughtyoumightliketoknow,thatevening,about10:00atnight,Bryanwasgoingthroughthebarracksyouused.He’dbeendrivingbyandnoticedthatdoorontheside

bytherunwaywasproppedopen,thatsamedoorthatleadsstraightoutintothedeserttothenorth.“Well,hewentwalkinginslowlyandmakingalotofnoiseandsingingloudly,incasetherewassome

airmanintherewithhisgirlfriend.Hewantedtobesuretheyknewhewascoming.Tohissurprise,therewasanattractiveyoung lady standing in there in the aislewhogreetedhimwhenhe came in.Hewasreally surprised because she was standing in there in total darkness, as though she were waiting forsomeone.“Bryansaidshewaswelldressed,wearinganicedresswithlongsleeves,andgloves.Shealsowore

opaque white stockings, flat dress shoes, and she appeared to be about 19. He noticed that she waswearingquiteabitofmakeupandawig.Shehadanunusually lightcomplexion.Hesaid thatshewasnaturallyveryquiet.Whenshespoketohim,shepronouncedthewordsinEnglishverycarefullyandverysmoothly.He said she didn’t have any accentwhatever. She appeared to be holding something like apencilinherrighthand.“Bryan asked her what she was doing there. According to Bryan, she identified herself as ‘The

Teacher’.Shesaidthatshewaswaitingtotalktoyou,Charlie,andthatshewonderedwhereyoumighthavegone.”“Me?”Iasked insurprise.“But,Payne, Idon’tknowanywoman like that. Idon’tknowanywoman

whoevenknewIstayedinthatbarracks.”“Iknow,”answeredPayne.“ButBryanswears that sheseemedconcernedwhenhe toldheryouhad

gonebacktoDesertCenterearly.SheaskedifyouwereOKandhappy.Shewanted toknow ifyouhadbeenhurtor terrified inanymanner.WhenBryanexplained thatyou

wereinperfecthealthandyouwerejustgoingbackearlysoyouwouldhavetimetomakethelongdriveuptoLasVegas,sheseemednoticeablyrelieved.AccordingtoBryan,shesaidshealwaysenjoyedbeingaroundyoubecauseyouwerealwayssohappyandinteresting.Shesaidyouhadalwaysbeensopatientwithherandthechildren.Thenshesaidthatthechildrenlovedbeingaroundyoutoo,especiallyherlittlegirl.Shehopedtheyhadn’tfrightenedyou.SheseemedtobereallyhappywhenBryantoldherthatyou

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likedituphere,andyouwouldbecomingbackuptoMojaveWellsnextsummer.Bryansaiditfeltliketimewasn’tofanyconcerntoher.Itfeltlikeshehadhundredsofyearstoworkwith.“AccordingtoBryan,shestoodtheresilentlyasthoughshewastalkingtosomeoneelsewithhermind.

Then she told Bryan that shewished to leave and asked him to leave first so she had room to leavewithoutbrushingpasthim.Bryanagreed.Thetwoof themwalkedout to thedoor.Bryanheld thedooropenforher.Hesaidsheaskedhimtoleavethedoorproppedopenforafewhours.Bryanagreed.SheaskedhimtowalkherbacktohertrailerintheMojaveWellstrailerpark.Bryanagreedandtheystartedwalkingsidebysideovertowardsthetrailerpark,whichisamileorsooverthere.Bryansaidthatforalongtimewhentheywerewalking,shewouldn’tsayanything.Then,whentheywerejustenteringthegatetothepark,shesuddenlyexclaimed,‘There’smytrailer,’andwentrunningonaheadofhim.“Therewasn’tanywayhecouldhavekeptupwithher.Hesaidsheranfasterthanhe’severseenany

humanrun.Shejustranawayfromhimandkeptrunninguntilshewasoutofsight,wayupaheadofhim.Thething

Bryansayshefindssoscrewyisthathe’scertainshedidn’tgointoanyofthetrailers.He’scertainthatshe ran through the trailer park and just kept running down that dirt road out into the desert to thenortheast.Bryandoesn’tknowwhereshewent.Hesaysthatshejustvanishedoutintothenight,outintothesagebrush.”“Well,”Ianswered.“Ihonestlydon’thavethefaintestideawhothewomancouldhavebeen,butyou

know,thatFridaynightabout1:30a.m.,Iwasplayingblackjackinthatnewbigcasinoonthestrip.IwasplayingwithPamela.Wewerelaughingandhavingagoodtimetogether.Well,therewasthisoneyoungwoman standing in the crowd across the casino. I became convinced that she was watching us andfollowingusaround.ShematchedthedescriptionofthewomanwhowastalkingtoBryan.Sheseemedreallyhappyandplayful.ItwascompletelyunnervingbecauseIfeltjustlikeIusedtofeelinthebarracksatMojaveWells.Itfeltlikeshewasstudyingmyeverymove.ItfeltlikeshewasintenselyinterestedineverymotionImade,whetheritwaswiththecards,ormovingmychair,justeverything.Afterawhile,IwassodisconcertedIjustdidn’tknowwhattodowithmyself.”“Perhaps,”heresponded,“but thinkof the time.Itcouldn’thavebeenthesamewoman.Itwasabout

10:30whensheranonaheadofBryan.It’sseveralhundredmilesfromMojaveWellsuptoLasVegas,andtothatcasinowhereyouwere.Bryanlastsawherrunningoutintothesagebrush.Shewouldhavehadlessthanthreehourstomakethetrip.Then,inorderforhertofindyou,she’dhavehadtobeenabletoreadyourmindfromadistance,throughwallsandeverything.Eitherthat,orelseshewouldhavehadtoknowhowyouthink,better thanyouknowyourself.Otherwise,howwouldshehavebeenable topickyououtoftheLasVegascrowdsonFridaynight?Nohumancoulddoanythinglikethat.”“You’reright,”Isaid.“Itcouldn’thavebeenthesamewoman.”“Notunlessshewasverygoodatrunningonahead,”answeredPayne.

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TheHappyCharade...Andnow,compelledbythespirit,

IamgoingtoJerusalem,notknowingwhatwillhappen

tomethere…

Acts20:22

Washington’s problems had a nuclear effect on theMajor, SergeantWalters, theDesertCenterBaseCommander,andonthePentagonGenerals.Officially,Washingtonwasratedbythebaseneurosurgeonashavingsufferedamentalcollapse.Theysaidthathehadbeenoverwhelmedbytheintenselonelinessofthe Mojave Wells environment and duty conditions. Responding to an order from the base medicalcommander, a one star general, everyweather observer atDesertCenterwas ordered to report to theneurosurgeon’soffice, one at a time,oneperday, for a full blockofpsychological testing.Only thoseobserversapprovedbythebaseneurosurgeonwouldbeallowedtopullatourofdutyatMojaveWells.So,onebyone,thedetachmentweatherobserversvisitedthebasehospitalasordered.Yet,eventhat,Ifoundalarming.Whiletheotherobserverswerenotgivenpreciseappointmentsbythebaseneurosurgeon,Iwas.Fortheothersatimeslotwasassigned,2:30to3:30everyafternoon.SincetheMajorcaredonlythatallobserverseventuallyreportasordered,agreatdealofscheduleshufflingoccurred.Yet, forme itwas different. Everyone elsewas scheduled to go first. Than twoweekswould pass

before my turn came. After watching observer after observer report for testing in catch-as-catch-canorder, I became convinced that some type of error had occurred. I decided to switch withmy friendDwightandreportinhisplace.Whowouldcare,Ithought.I was in for a terrible shock. That warm march afternoon when I entered the front door of the

neurosurgeon’sreceptionarea,thereceptionistreactedasifI’dcometorobabank.Iwashardlyinsidethedoorwhenshe jumpedupinanger,anddemandedtoknowwhatIwasdoingtheresoearly.Tomysurprise,sherecognizedmeimmediately.Shealreadyknewmebyface,name,rank,andserialnumber,eventhoughshewasaperfectstrangertome.Ihardlyhadtimetosaymynamebeforesheangrilyorderedmeoutofthereceptionarea,andbackintothestreet.As shewas physically pushingme from the building, I became especially confused.Thedate Iwas

scheduled tovisit theneurosurgeonwas threeweekshence. Iwas scheduled for theWednesdayof theweekofEastervacation.Yet,accordingtothesignonthefrontdoor,thebuildingwouldbeclosedandlockedfortheentireEasterweek.Allmedicalpersonnelwerescheduledtobeawayonvacation.Aboveherangryorders,Iaskedheriftheschedulewascorrect.Asshewasphysicallyshovingmeoutthefrontdoor, sheshouted,“Ofcourse it’scorrect,AirmanBaker.Wenevermakemistakes.Weknowperfectlywellwhoyouare!Youbehereexactlyat1:30onthedayyou’rescheduled,andnotoneminutebefore!”Thensheslammed the frontdoor inmy faceand locked it topreventme fromreentering.As Iwalkedaway,acrossthegravelcoveredparkinglotoutfront,Icouldhardlyhavebeenmoreperplexed.IwalkedslowlybacktotheweatherstationtoletDwightknowthathewasstillexpectedtoreportto

the neurosurgeon’s office. I expected to relieve him so he could report for testing as ordered. I reallywasn’tpreparedforwhathappenednext.BythetimeIarrivedattheweatherstation,theDesertCenterMP’sappearedtobeoutsearchingforme.AsIenteredthefrontdoortheMajorwasjusthangingupthephone.Hecalledmeovertohisdeskandsaidinfatherlytones,“Thatwasthebaseneurosurgeononthephone,AirmanBaker.Theyreallydon’twantyoutoreportfortestinguntilWednesdayofEasterweek,

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threeweeksfromnow.”“But I don’t understand,Sir,” I responded respectfully. “The sign on their front door says the entire

medicalfacilityisgoingtobeshutdownfor thatcompleteweek.IfIwaituntil then, thedoorswillbelockedandthebuildingisgoingtobecompletelyempty.”The Major responded seriously, “As I understand it, Charlie, the head neurosurgeon will make a

specialtripandcomebackfromvacationonthatday,inordertobetheretoconductyourtests.”“ButMajor,”Icarefullyprotested,“Theotherobserverswhohavetalkedwithhimsayhe’splanningon

spendingallofEasterweekinSanFrancisco.Accordingtotheschedule,he’llhavetoflybackhereinthemiddleofhisvacationjusttotalktomeforanhourorso.Hecouldhavejusttalkedtometodayandnothadtoscrewuphisentirevacation.”TheMajorchosehisnextwordsverycarefullyasheanswered,“Charlie,theneurosurgeonisanofficer

withalmost30yearsofexperience.Hisscheduleishisproblem.All I know is that they really don’t want you over there even oneminute early. That was the base

medicalcommanderonthephone.Hemadeitexplicitlycleartomethattheythinkofyouasbeingavery,veryspecialindividual.”Stillprotesting,Icontinued,“ButMajor,Sir,howdotheyevenknowwhoIam?ThatnewguyHarris,

theonewiththewifeandthetwolittlekids,toldmethatwhenhewentoverforhisturnlastweek,theneurosurgeonspentlessthanfiveminutestalkingwithhimabouthimselfandhisfamily.Harrisclaimsthattheneurosurgeonspenttherestofthehour,that’s55minutes,Major,justaskinghimquestionsaboutme.Harrisclaimsthattheneurosurgeonalreadyknowseverythingthereistoknowaboutme.Harrisclaimstheneurosurgeonwantedtoknowallsortsofridiculousdetailsaboutme…thingslike,didIenjoyplayingwithhiskids,didIgetupsetwhenhiskidsgotinmyway;didIgetsurprisedifhiskidscameupbehindmesuddenly?Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingonMajor,butItellyouwhenHarrisandhiswifehadmeoverforsupperthreeweeksago,Inevereventouchedhiskids.Imeanhehasnicekidsandanicefamily,butIlethiswifetakecareofthekidswhileHarrisandIplayedchess.Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingonMajor,butthewaythey’vescheduledmedoesn’tmakeanysense.Itjustdoesn’tmakeanysenseatall!”TheMajor sat quietly, absorbed in deep thought for a fewminutes, before answeringme.When he

finally answered, he spoke very slowly and chose his words very carefully. “Charlie, the scheduledoesn’tmake sense to you or tome, but I assure you, it doesmake perfect sense to the basemedicalcommander.We,here,servingourcountryinthemilitary,havetolearntotrustourofficersandtodoaswe have been ordered.The orders thatwe have received are very explicit. They come from the basemedicalcommanderandheisaonestargeneral.TheordersstateveryexplicitlythatitisOKforyoutobeasmuchas45minuteslateforyourappointment.However,theseordersstrictlyforbidyoufrombeingevenoneminuteearly.Doyouunderstandyourorders?”“Yes,Major,”Iansweredrespectfully.TheMajorcontinuedsympathetically,“Themedicalcommandersaysheunderstandsifyouareafraidto

goinside.Themedicalcommandersaysheunderstandsifyouchoosetowaitoutsideforasmuchas45minutestogetupyourcouragetogoinamongthem.Themedicalcommandertoldmepersonallythathewillunderstandiftheyhavetocomeoutsideintotheparkinglottointerviewyou.Hetoldmepersonallythatyoumustcomealone,andthatonlyyoumayattendthemeeting.ButIpromiseyouCharlie,thatifyouenter thatbuildingsomuchasoneminuteearly foryourappointment, themedicalcommanderwillnotunderstand,andifyouenterthebuildingeventwominutesearly,youwillbecourt-martialed.”“Court-martialed,Sir?”Irespondedinfearandsurprise.“Court-martialed!” responded the Major. This is a very special interview. You may come to this

interviewasmuchas45minutes late.Youmaysayanythingyouwant to.Youmaywaitoutside in the

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middleoftheparkinglot.Youmaymakethemcomeoutsidetotalktoyou.Iftheirappearanceoractionsfrightenyou,youmayendtheinterviewanytimeyouchose,anywayyouchose,foranyreasonyouchose.Hegivesyouhiswordthatnomatterwhathappens, theywillnotpursue.But ifyouenter thatbuildingeven two minutes early, the Base Medical Commander and I both guarantee that you will be court-martialed.”WiththatIwasdismissed.Iwastooafraidtoaskanymorequestions.TheMajorwasobviouslyaman

whomeantwhathesaid.IrelievedDwightasthedutyobserversothathecouldreportfortesting.Nooneseemedtocarethathewaslate.Yet,tomysurprise,hereportedthatnoonewouldhavecaredifhehadbeenearlyeither.LikeHarris,Dwightreportedthattheneurosurgeonspentlessthanfiveminutestalkingwithhimabouthisfeelings,hisfamily,orhischildren.LikeHarris,Dwightreportedthattheneurosurgeonseemedinterestedonlyindiscussinghisobservationsaboutme.“Whyme?”Iwondered.“Whyme?”Itseemedasiftheentirebasemedicalfacilitywasdoingeverythingbackwards.“Whydon’ttheywantmetocomeoneminuteearlyonadaywhentheentiremedicalfacilityisclosed?”Iwondered.“WhatwouldI possibly seeoutsideor inside a deserted set ofmedical offices thatwouldmake themwant to courtmartialme?”AsIwaitedformyappointment,thedaysandweeksseemedtodragby.Daybyday,Iwaitedanxiously.

Finally, thedayofmyappointmentcame.WhenEastervacationbegan, thebasemedical facilities shutdowncompletely,justasthesignhadpromised.Althoughmyappointmentwasscheduledfor1:30intheafternoon, I was in uniform,waiting inmy barracks, by 9:00 a.m.My nerveswere so on edge that Iskipped the noonmeal.Usingmy radio, I checked and rechecked the accuracy ofmywatch at least adozen times. When 1:00 p.m. arrived, I left my barracks and began the long slow walk over to theapparently deserted base medical facility. I carefully timed my route so that I arrived at the outsideentrancetotheneurosurgeon’sofficejustovertwominuteslate.AsIwascrossingthegraveledparkinglotoutinfrontofthebuilding,inthedistance,throughoneofthe

darkenedwindowsIcouldseethereceptionistcomeoutfromadoortoabackroom,walkslowlyandsmoothlyintothereceptionarea,walkovertotheentrancedoor,andunlockit.Asshedidso,Inoticedthat she didn’t bend forward as most women would have. Rather, her unusually thin frame remainedstanding straight upright as she reached out and unlocked the door. Then shewalked back behind thecounter in the reception area, and sat down out of sight.At the time, Iwas actually relieved that shewasn’t the normal receptionistwhohad orderedmeout of the facility threeweeks before.Thewholethingdidseemodd, though.Thereceptionistwaswearingawig,gloves,whitenylonstockings, lotsofmakeup,andadresswithlongsleeves,alotofwinterclothesforsuchawarmspringday.Ijudgedhertobeaboutmyheight,5'11”.Shewasalsounusuallythin,andhadanunusuallysmoothmannerofwalking.Arrivingatthefrontdoor,Igentlyopeneditandwalkedinside.Tomysurprise,thereceptionistdidn’t

riseuptogreetme.Instead,sheremainedsitting,bentoverbehindthereceptioncounter.Inanunusuallyquietpleasantvoice,andanunusuallywellspokenmanner,shedirectedmetohaveachair.‘He’wouldbewithmeshortly,shesaid.Throughitall,shesatgenerallyfacingawayfromme,andactedasthoughshereallydidn’twantmetoseeherface,oranyportionofherexceptforherwigandherrighttemple.In addition to the receptionist andmyself, I could hear three other people in the otherwise deserted

building.Onewassittinginanofficeall thewaydownahall,ontheothersideofthedoubledoorsinfrontofme.Theothertwocouldoccasionallybeheard,apparentlystanding,justinsidethedoorwaytoaroomwhichconnecteddirectlytothebackofthereceptionarea.SinceIhadneverheardthemsitdown,Iconcluded that bothof themwere standing. I found this fact slightlyunnerving.Men standing insideofdoorwaysareusuallywellarmedsecurityguards.“Butwhywouldtheybeguardingadoorwaythatonlyareceptionistcoulduse?”Iwondered.Ithoughtaboutitforafewminutes.Iconcludedthatthetwomen,

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whom I had never actually seen, must be providing a safe haven for the receptionist. They must bestandingthere just incaseshefeltsheneededprotectionfromme.I thoughtabout itsomemore.Itstilldidn’tmakesensetome.If thesecurityguardsfelt thatIwasathreattothereceptionist,whywouldn’ttheyjustwalkoutintothereceptionareaanddemonstratethatthereceptionistwaswellprotected?Inoticedthatallofthelightswereturnedoff.Thatseemedodd,buttherewerequiteafewwindows,

and thesewindows let in somesunlight.Still, Iwondered,“Whydon’t theywant the fluorescent lightsturnedon?”As I looked around the room,mygaze fell on the thermostat.Despite the fact that thiswas awarm

afternoon and the receptionist was warmly dressed, the thermostat was turned up beyond 80 degreesFahrenheit. “Why doesn’t the receptionist turn it down?” I wondered. “With all of the clothes she’swearing,shemustberoasting.”Anansweringthoughtseemedtoappearinmymind.Itseemedtocomeintomymindfromnowherein

particular.Ifoundmyselfthinkingthattheearthwasn’tawarmplace.Ifoundmyselfthinkingoftheearthasacold,desolatewildernesswherethemost intelligentpeoplehadtodresscarefullyinorder tostaywarm.Thentherewasthematteroftheparkinglot.AsIgazedthroughthewindow,anoddfactstruckme.The

parkinglotwascompletelyempty.“Sohowdidthereceptionistandtheotherthreepeoplegethere?”Iwondered.Theonlyvehicleanywherearound,thatIknewof,wasalargestepvanwhichI’dseenparkedoutbackwhenIwaswalkingovertothebuilding.Yet,thewholethingstilldidn’tseemtomakesensetome.Arich,highrankingmilitarydoctorwithahighlypaidnurse,andtwoassistants,allmeetsomewhere,allgetinastepvananddriveovertoadesertedsetofofficesjusttoaskmeifIlovedmymotherandmyfather?Whywouldn’ttheyjustbringtheircars?Then therewas the receptionistherself.Shestillhadn’t lookedatme,evenonce.Shesatbehind the

counter,bentoversofarthatonlythetopportionofherhead,fromthetemplesup,couldbeseen.ShewassittingsostillthatIsoonbecameconvincedthatshewaslisteningtosomething.Yet,what?Therewerenoradiostobeheard.Theloudestthingsintheentireroomwerethesilentthoughtsthatroamedaroundinmybrain.ThenInoticedsomething trulyconfusing.WhenImoved, inorder togetamagazine to read, thereceptionistmovedtoo.Itseemedasifshewasintentonkeepingherrighttemplealwaysturnedtowardsme,as she sat there.Then Inoticed that she seemed tobeable tocorrectlyanticipatemyeverymove,almostasifshewereabletoreadmyverythoughts.Nowmynerveswerereallygettingjangled.ThenI foundmy thoughtswandering. I foundmyself remembering theexperiences I’dhadatMojave

Wells,andhowmuchI’denjoyedthem.Ifoundmyselfrememberingthebeautifulearlymorningdrivesouttorangethree,andpleasantafternoonsdownatrangeone.ThenIfoundmyselfdaydreamingabouttakingthe balloon measurements with children playing around me, and having pleasant conversations withbeautifulwhitecoyotesandotheranimals.ThenIrememberedrescuingthelostlittlewhitegirlwiththebigblueeyes,downatrangeone.ThenIbegantofeellikemymindwasnolongermyown.Gettingholdofmyselfatlast,IbrushedallofthethoughtsthatIcould,outofmymind.Isatquietlyand

patiently,waitingforthedoctortocallme.Inoticedthatmorethan15minuteshadpassed.IworriedthatmaybeI’dcometooearly.AccordingtotheMajor,IwouldbeinserioustroubleifIhadcomeearly,andtheMajorwasamanofhisword.Inordertoreassuremyself,Ispoketothereceptionist,speakingclearlyandgently,“Icameatthepropertime,didn’tI.MyorderssaidthatIhadtoreportat1:30,andIarrivedat1:32.”Therewasnoanswer,soIrepeatedmystatement,“Excuseme,Icameatthepropertime,didn’tI?Imean,Iwasn’ttooearly,wasI?”After a long pause, the receptionist replied, speaking carefully, still sitting bent over, looking away

fromme,keepingherrighttempleturnedtowardsme,“Yes,Youcameatthepropertime.Sitquietly.He

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willbewithyouinafewminutes.”Nothingseemedtomakeanysensetome.Isattherewondering“I’morderedtoreporttoadesertedset

ofoffices,overEastervacationandthenforcedtositquietlyinachair,daydreamingeveryminuteaboutpastexperiences,andwaitforalongtime,becausetheneurosurgeonistoobusytoseemeasscheduled?”Havingnootherchoice,Isatquietly,asdirectedbythereceptionist,andwaitedfortheneurosurgeonto

seeme.Thenanoddthoughtcrossedmymind.Iftheneurosurgeonwasthemanwaitingintheofficedownthehall,waitingtoseeme,andifIwaswaitingheretoseehim,theonlythingkeepingusapartwasthereceptionist. “Whydoesn’the justwalkup thehallwayandgetme?” Iwondered.After all, this ishisvacationthatI’mscrewingup.Thenanotheroddthoughtcrossedmymind.Ibecameconvincedthat theneurosurgeonwouldn’tcometogetmebecausehewasafraidtobearoundthereceptionist.Itwassuchanodd thought that itdidn’t seemas though I’deven thought it atall.Rather, it seemed likesomeonehadplaceditthereinmymindformetoread.Istruggledwiththisoddideaforafewminutes.Itdidn’tseemtofitanywhereinmymind,anditdidn’t

seemtohavecomefromwithinme.Theneurosurgeon,afterall,wasaonestargeneral.“Whywouldhebeafraidofhisownreceptionist?”Iwondered.AsIsattherewondering,Inoticedthattheclockonthewallnowread1:58p.m.Withoutwarning,and

withoutmovingherheadtowardsme,thereceptionistspoke,“Atexactly2:00p.m.,youaretogothroughthedoubledoors.Walkdirectlydownthehallwayandtalktothemansittingintheendoffice,”shesaidpleasantly.Then,withoutreallystandingup,shearoseslightlyfromherchairandsuddenlylefttheroom-exitingthroughthedoorwaybehindthecounter.AsIsatthere,Icouldhearhermeetingupwiththeothertwoindividualsstandingin thebackroom.Theyweren’tsayinganything.Onlytheirfootstepscouldbeheard.Iwasshocked.Throughitall,shehadactedasthoughshedidn’twantmetoseeanyportionofher.notherdress,notherface,notherlegs,onlyherhairandherrighttemple.Itseemedasthoughshe’dkeptmesittingthereforafullhalfhour,justsoshecouldsitwithherrighttempledirectedtowardsme.Having nothing better to do, I sat patiently watching the minute hand on the clock measure out the

remaining two minutes. Then, at 2:00 p.m. sharp, I slowly got up from my chair, looked around thedesertedreceptionareaforanythingImighthavedropped,pushedopenthedoubledoors,andenteredthelonghallwaybeyond.Downashorthallwaytomyright,itwasobviousthatthereceptionistandtheothertwoindividualswerestandingoutofsightinadarkenedemptyroom.Ithoughtitoddthattheothertwoindividuals,whomIhadneverbeenabletosee,hadbeensowillingtostandmoreorlessstillforafullhalfhourinawindowlessroomwithnolights,whenitwouldhavebeensoeasytoplacechairsintheroom,turnonthelights,andsitdown.Itseemedcontrarytohumannature.Inanyevent,Icontinueddownthelonghallway.Iwasgladtobefinallyseeingtheneurosurgeon,whom

Ihadwaitedsolongtosee.Reachingthe lastroomontheendof thehallway,Iknockedonthecloseddoorway.“Comein,”wasthepleasantresponse.Iopenedthedoorandwent in.Sittingthere inasoftchair, inadarkenedroom,wasapleasantman,

probably in his early forties. Hewas neatly dressed,wearing a nice three-piece business suit with anarrownecktie.Thebulgeunderhis leftarmpitbetrayed thegunhewascarrying inashoulderholster.Fromthesizeofthebulge,Iconcludedthatthegunmustbeanunusuallylargecaliber.Thebulgesinthepockets of his suit jacket looked suspiciously like extra ammunition clips. “Unusual tools for aneurosurgeon,”Ithoughttomyself.“Haveaseat,”hesaid,apparentlyreferringtoasofapositionedtotheleftofhim.“Andclosethedoor

sowecantalk.”Inoticedthatheneveroncemadeanyhandorbodymotionsashesaidthis,andremainedsittingmotionlessthroughitall.

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I found it odd that he was obviously unwilling to rise up out of his chair to greet me. Yet, hisunwillingnessdidn’t seemdirectedatme.Rather, it seemedas thoughhewas justused to living inanenvironmentwherenobodygreetedeachother,orreachedouttotoucheachother.Itstruckmeasodd.Ichosetopursuethematter.AsIsatdownonthesofa,Isaidinacalm,matteroffactvoice,“Iunderstandthat the fruit trees are in bloom and that San Francisco is pretty this time of year,” knowing that theneurosurgeonwasfromSanFrancisco.“I don’t know,” he answered. “The cherry blossomsweren’t open yet lastweek inWashingtonDC.

Maybethey’reopennowinSanFrancisco.”I was stunned. The gun, the lack of immediate knowledge of San Francisco, the conclusion was

inescapable. Whomever I was talking to, it certainly wasn’t the base neurosurgeon. I interpreted hispleasantsmiletomeanthatheexpectedthishappycharadetocontinue.Ididn’tdisappointhim.Smilingmyself, I continued,“I suppose the leavesare justbeginning tocomeout in southernWisconsin.Thereweresometreesoutinfrontofmyhighschoolwhichalwaysstartedtoputouttheirleavesaboutthistimeofyear.”“No.Theyhaven’tstartedopeningyet,”heresponded,knowingly.“You’retalkingaboutthosebigold

trees just across the street from the high school,where the roots have pushed up the sidewalk, aren’tyou?”Iwas almost too stunned to answer. “Had he actually been checking up onme so closely that he’d

traveledouttomyhighschooljusttoseewhatitlookedlike?”Iwondered.Ithoughtaboutitforaminute.Menwithguns,whoinvestigateyoubywalkingaroundyourhometown,usuallycallthemselvessecurityagents.Suchagentsdonotgivepsychologicalexams.Theygivedebriefingsessions.Iwondered,“Isthatwhat’sreallyhappening?Wasthehalfhourwaitinfrontofthereceptionisttheactualexam,andamInowbeing debriefed by the government security agent?” It seemed so backwards from what I had beenexpecting.I decided to continue probing for information.His pleasant smile betrayed his belief that all of the

securitybaseswere still covered. I lethim think so.Therewasnopoint Idecided, inupsettinghim. Ismiledpleasantly,myself,andspeakingcalmlyandclearly,Icontinuedmyprobing.Turningtohim,Isaidpleasantly,“Iseethelightsareturnedoff.Doyouwantmetoaskthereceptionisttoturnthemon?”Theway themuscles in his upper left arm and neck twitched, alongwith themuscles over his gun

holster convincedme thatmyquestionhad struckhome. “Was she still in the receptionareawhenyoucamedownhere?”Heaskedshowingbothfearandsurprise.“No,”Iresponded,settlinghimdown.“Butsheandheraideswerestandinginthatbackroomdownthe

sideaisle.Icouldeasilywalkdownthereandaskhertoturnonthelightsifyouwant.”Itwasaclevertrap.Iwasexpectinghimtosayno.Iwantedtoseehowhewasgoingtodoit.Sittingcalmly,almostmotionless,andspeakinginasmoothandwellcontrolledvoice,heresponded,

“No.Neverdisturbthem.Theyalwayswanttobealone.Weshouldjuststaysittinghereandletthembealone.Iftheywanttotalktous,they’llcometous.”Hisresponsereallytookmeoffguard.HeclearlybelievedthatheandIformedonegroup,andthatthe

receptionist and her two aides formed another.Yet he and I hadmet onlyminutes ago. “Why does hebelievethatheandIareofakind,andthat thereceptionistandher twosecurityaidesformadifferentkind?”Iwondered.Yes,confusingasitwas,thingswerestartingtomakesensetome.Thingswerestartingtoaddup.The

securityagentobviouslybelievedthatwhenIwassittinginfrontofthereceptionistinthereceptionarea,IwassittinginthepresenceofapersonwhowasvastlydifferentfrombothheandI.Thereceptionistwasobviouslyapersonwhomhedidn’twanttoupset.Healmostcertainlywasafraidofher.Ihadspenttime

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meetingwiththereceptionist.Itwasobvioustomethatnow,thesecurityagent,posingasapsychiatrist,wanted to debriefme to see if Iwas still all right. It allmade sense, except for one simple fact: thereceptionisthadneveronceaskedmeasinglequestion.Apparently,nothinghadhappenedwhen Iwaswaitingin thereceptionarea,except thatmythoughtshadseemedtowanderagreatdeal. Isat there inconfusion,wonderingaboutthingsforafewminutes.HadnothingreallyhappenedwhenIwassittinginfrontofthereceptionist,Iwondered?Howthen,hadIguessedthathewasafraidofherwhenIwassittinginthereceptionarea?Ithoughtforaminutemore,andIdecidedtocontinuemyprobing.Turningtowardshim,Icontinued,as

though I knewmore about the receptionist than Iwas revealing, “I see the receptionistwaswearing adresswithlongsleeves,awigandgloves.Shemusthavebeenwarmenough,wearingallofthoseclothesinthisweather.”Atthementionofthereceptionist,themaninfrontofmeflinchednoticeably.Thenheresponded,ina

warmmanner,“Yes,it’sjustnowbecomingwarmenoughoutsideforhertomovearound,butshehastostayheavilydressedinordertodoit.Actually,Iwassurprisedthatsheagreedtobehere,today,sinceit’ssoearlyinthespring.Shemustreallyenjoymeetingwithyoubecauseshe’sriskinganothersicknesswithwhatshe’sdoing.Ordinarily,shewouldn’tgooutsideintotheopenairforanothermonthorso.”Iwastoostunnedtorespond.Isatonthecouch,mentallystrugglingtodigestwhathe’dsaid.Thenhe

continued,“Dideverythinggoallrightwhenyouwereinthereceptionarea?”“Yes,”Ianswered,stillstrugglingwithmythoughts.“Didshetellyouaboutherlittlegirl?”heasked.“No,”Ianswered,“Ididn’tknowshehadone.Shedidn’tsayanythingtomeatall.”“That doesn’tmatter,” he answered knowingly. Then he asked, “What kinds of thoughtswere going

throughyourmindwhenyouwerewaitingoutthere?”Iresponded,“Well,whileIwassittingoutthere,Ididhaveanunusuallypleasantdaydreamaboutbeing

outontheMojaveWellsgunneryrangesintheearlymorninghours.Inmydream,Iwasplayingwithanunusuallyintelligentlittlegirl,whilehermotherstayedwatchingmefromoutinthesagebrush.Thelittlegirlinmydaydreamwassortoflikealittlesecondgrader,whoworeprettywhitedressesandthings,andwho seemed to really enjoy riding ponies and playing games around the area where I was working.Sometimessheseemedlikeaplayfullittlebutterfly.”Thisseemedtomakethemaninfrontofmehappy.Smilingnoticeablyforthefirsttime,heresponded,

“Icanseethatyourwaitinthereceptionareawasasuccess.I’llexplaintoyouwhat’sgoingtohappennext.ThenIwantyoutoleaveherebywayofthebackdoor.Whenyouleavethisroom,donot,underanycircumstances,returntothereceptionarea.Iwantyoutocontinuedownthishallwaytotheexitdoorattheendofthehallway,andleavebygoingoutthatdoorintothebackparkinglot.ThenIwantyoutowalkdirectlyawayfromthebuildingtowardtheairman’sclub.Youarenottolookbackatthisbuildingasyoudoso.KeepwalkingawayfromthisbuildinguntilyouhavereachedDesertCenterAvenuethatisaboutamileoverinthatdirection.Thenyoumaydowhateveryouwant.Doyouunderstand?”“Yes,”Ianswered.Iknewbetterthantoaskanymorequestions.Hecontinued,“I’mgoingtogiveyourcommandingofficer,themajor,thefollowingorders.Onlyyou

maybe stationedatMojaveWells.Youwillbe stationedup therealone, andyouwillbe stationedupthereuntilfurthernotice.Youwillneverbeorderedofftheranges,eveniftherangesareclosedduetoanemergency.“You may go anywhere you wish on the ranges, at anytime you wish. That includes day or night,

weekendsandholidays.Youarealsoallowedtogoasfaroutasyouwish,anytimeyouwish.Noguardiseverallowedtosaynotoyou,evenatnight.

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“Nootherweatherobservermaybestationedwithyou.Ifyougetsick,thennoonemayreplaceyou.Takingthewindmeasurementswillceaseuntilyouhavefullyrecovered.Ifyouhaveanaccidentwhenyou’reoutthere,thenyoumustbringyourselfsafelyhome.“Ifyouneedtoberelievedforafewweekstotakeyourannualleave,thenyourfriendPayne,andyour

friendDwight,asateammayrelieveyou.Thistwo-manteam,PayneandDwight,mustbetogetheratalltimes, even to visit the bathroom. Theymay relieve you for nomore than twoweeks, once every sixmonths.“Under any circumstances, no married observer, other than Dwight, may ever be stationed at the

gunnery ranges. Only those single observers whom I have approved may be stationed at the gunneryranges.Ineverycasetheymustbepartofatwoorthreemanteam,andineverycasetheteammaynotspendmorethan3daysand2nightsatMojaveWells,withnomorethanoneassignmentpermanperyear.Undernocircumstancesisanyweatherobserverexceptyou,everallowedmorethanonehalfmilefromthe immediate roadsbetween theMojaveWells base andweather shacks.Noobserver, except you, iseverallowedtovisitplacessuchastheammunitionbunkersoutatrangethreeorthearroyoatrangeone.Inaddition,noobserver,exceptyou,iseverallowedtotravelbeyondrangethree,ortobeontheroadtorangefour.Everyweatherobserver,exceptyou,mustreportimmediatelytotheDesertCenterbaseneurosurgeon

fordebriefing.TheymustdosouponreturnfromanytriporanyassignmenttotheMojaveWellsranges.Theymustbedebriefed,evenifthetripwasonlyanafternoontriptodeliversupplies.Upontheirreturn,assoonastheyentertheDesertCentergate,theymustreporttotheneurosurgeon.That’severyone,includingtheMajorandSergeantWalters,noexceptions,exceptyou.”“Exceptme?”Iasked,sittinginquietwonderment.“Yes,” he answered. “Everyone except you. Nothing about your assignment is classified, nothing

whatsoever.Youhavetotalcontrolovereverythingthatyousee, thatyouhear,orthatyoudo.Theonlyruleisthatwhateveryoudo,youmustdoitalone.Youarenevertoreportfordebriefing.Whateveryousee,whateveryouhear,whateveryouexperience,

youneednevertellanyoneunlessyouwishto.Youmaytellanyoneyouwish,ornooneifyousowish.Youmaytellthemeverysingledetailandexperience,asoftenasyouwish,oryoumaytellthemnothing.It’salltotallyuptoyou.Justremember,ifyoueverfeeloverwhelmed,ifyoueverfeelthatyouneedtotalk to one of us about your experiences, just phone the neurosurgeon, day or night, or phone the dutyofficerhereatDesertCenter.Thebasemedicalcommander,ormyself,willpersonallyandimmediatelycometoyou.Therewillbenoquestionsasked.Thetwoofus,myself,andthebasemedicalcommander,areauthorizedtousetheemergencymedicalhelicopterfortransportation.Oursisthehighestpriority.Wemaydivertthehelicopteroranyotherpieceoftransportationequipmentwedesire,fromanyaccidentoranyemergency,justtocometowhereveryouare.Weareorderednottoaskyouanyquestions!Wehavebeen ordered not to keep any records of suchmeetings. Youwill never be criticized, reproached, ordisciplinedforaskingtoseeeitheroneofus.Doyouunderstandyourorders?”Dumbfoundedandsittingthereinneardisbelief,Ianswered,“Yes.”Hesmiled.Turningatlasttome,hesaid,“Son,IhopetoGodforyoursakethatyouareright.Ihope

youareasgoodatkeepingyourwitsaboutyouduringdifficulttimesastheysayyouare,becauseyousurearegoingtogettested.Onelastthing,remember,youhaveaname.Whenyouareoutontheranges,ifyouareeveraskedwhatyournameis,respondbysayingthatyouare“teacher’spet”.Youarealsoknownas“thefriendoftheteacher”.Youmayalsosaythatyouareoutthereontherangesbecausetheteacheraskedforyou.“I’mteacher’spet?”Iaskedcarefully.

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“Yes,”heresponded.“It’sanametobeproudof.Youmaytellyournametoanyoneandtoeveryonethatyouwishto.Theindividuals,whoneedtoknowyourname,willalsoknowyoufacetoface.Butjusttobeonthesafeside,makecertainthatyourememberthename.Nowtimeisrunningveryshort,butthereisstilltimeenoughforyoutoaskmejustonequestion.Isthereanyonequestionthatyouwouldlikemetoanswer?”“Yes,” I answered.“I’m looking forward togoingbackup toMojaveWells. I reallyenjoybeingup

there, but Iwaswondering,whyme?There’snothing special aboutme.Theotherguyshere atDesertCenter aregoodweatherobservers too.Paynegrewup in thedesert, andhe’s completely athomeoutthere.MichaelgrewuphereinPalmMeadows.He’dbeanexcellentchoice.Thenthere’sthatnewblackguy,Harris.He’ssharpandknowsalloftheropes.Imean,whywasIchosenoversharp,wellqualifiedguyslikethat?”Hesatpensively,foraminuteorso.Thenheanswered,“I’lltellyouthetruth,Charlie.Forwhatyou’re

goingtobefacing,youdeserve the truth.Someonthecommittee, like theTeacher,pickedyoubecausetheysayyou’remorepatientthantheothers.TheDesertCenterbasecommanderpickedyoubecausetheysayyoukeepyourwitsaboutyoubetter than they’veeverseenorheard tellabout.Others,backat thePentagon,pickedyoubecauseofyourincrediblereasoningability,likethewayyoufiguredoutthatI’mnot really a neurosurgeon.As forme, I picked you because of your courage. I still can’t believe thatyou’resitting inhereon thesofabesideme. I told thecommittee thatevenabraveman inyourshoes,wouldbecuttoribbonsbyhisinnerfearsandanxieties.Itoldthemthatafteryouwerekeptwaitingforsolong,afterallyou’vealreadybeenthrough,alone,atnightoutonthegunneryranges, thebestwecouldexpectisthatwe’denduphavingtointerviewyououtsideintheparkinglotfromadistanceof100feetorso.Ican’tbelievethegutsyouhave.Youjustwalkedintothisbuilding,said,‘Hello’,andwaitedinfrontofthereceptionistforacompletehalfhour.Iwouldn’thavebelieveditifIhadn’tseenitwithmyowneyes.“Drivingouttothegunneryranges,alone,inthedarkness,everymorninglikeyouhavebeen,andwill

bedoing, takesamanwithyourkindofguts. Idon’thave theguts to fillanyoneofyourshoes.Don’tforget,anytimethingsgettough,there’salwaysgoingtobesomeonehere,ontheotherendofthephone.“You’dbettergo,now,Charlie.Theyallmustbegettingcoldbynow,andImustgetthembackbefore

darkness comes. She’ll freeze for sure if she’s out on a night like tonight, theway she’s dressed. It’sprobablygoingtogetdowntoatleast65degrees.”Withthattheinterviewwasover.Ileftthebuildingbythebackdoorasordered,andwalkedthemile

withouteverlookingback.Thenextday,theMajorcalledmeintohisofficetodeliverthesamesetofordersI’dreceivedinthe

neurosurgeon’soffice.The first sergeant,MasterSergeantWalterswaspresent. I rememberhow intentandfatherlytheybothwere.As I left theweather station to getmy belongings,mymindwas still spinning. I alone could go to

MojaveWells.Ihadtobealone.Iwouldgetextrapay.Ihadfulluseoftheweathertruck.TheMojaveWells weather stations would never be inspected by anyone exceptme. I could come back to DesertCenterforChristmasandThanksgiving.NooneelsewouldeverbesentunlessIaskedPayneandDwightto relieve me. I could call the commanders anytime, say anything or nothing, no records of suchconversationswouldeverbekept, theywoulddivert theemergencymedicalhelicopter fromanyotheraccidentoremergencyjusttotalktome,andtheypromisedthattheywouldn’taskasinglequestionaboutmyexperiences, andall I had todo in returnwas take fiveor sixweather reports everyworkingday,startingat4:00a.m.,fromthegunneryranges,untilfurthernotice.AllIhadtodowasdrive22miles,orso, out into the desolate, desertedMojaveWells gunnery ranges, through distantmountain passes into

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distanthiddendesertvalleys,alone,everymorningMondaythroughFriday,inthedarknessof3:15a.m.andmeasurethewinds.Itallseemedsosimple.Itallseemedsoterriblysimple.IthardlyseemedliketheU.SAirForce.

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SummerRainCanyouraiseyourvoiceamongtheclouds,orveilyourselfinthewatersofthestorm?

Canyousendforththelightningsontheirway,orwilltheysaytoyou,“Hereweare?”

Job38:34,35

Thedesertisadryplacebutsometimesitrains.ThismorningIwaswellrestedandwideawakeasIheadedmy truck north intoMojaveWells Valley, past the wet sagebrush and the dripping wet yuccaplants.Alateafternoonstormhadblowninthedaybefore.Thedesertexhibitsaspecialbeautyduringanighttimerain.Ienjoyeditsbeauty,andIfoundthesoundofrainonmybarracksrooftoberelaxing.Iwasinbedfastasleepby6:30intheevening.Consequently,itwasasimplemattertobeinmytruckheadingouttorangethreeby1:30a.m.thenextmorning.Somethunderhadawakenedme.Iwastoowellrestedtogobacktosleep.I’vealwaysbeenanightperson,andIwantedtoenjoythebeautyofthenighttimedesertrain.Happy, then, I turned offmy alarm clock, shaved and dressed, and headed on out to the ranges.LightningwasstrikingthemountainsonbothsidesofthevalleyasIcarefullybroughtmytruckontotheRangeThreeroad.Iopenedmywindowalittle,turnedonmyheadlights,heater,windshieldwipers,andsettledbackforaniceeasy,quietdriveouttomyweathershack.IrememberwellthedriveouttoRangeThreethatmorning.Therainseemedsocold,sorelaxing,sobeautiful,andsoreal.Iwaslookingforwardtospendingsometimerestingandreadinginmyweathershackbeforetakingthe

balloon run thismorning.Starting thediesel generatorswas straight forward, andonce electricitywasavailableforthefanonmygasheater,myshackwouldbewarm,comfortable,andsnug.Besidemeinthetruckwasalargejarofdrinkingwater,somesodapop,andfoursandwichesIhadgottenfromthechowhallthenightbefore,incasetherainpreventedmefrommakingitbackinforbreakfast.Besidemeonmytruckseatalsowere somecandybars, anda thick interestinghistorybook. Iexpected thatmyweathershackwouldbeanicerestfulplaceonthiscold,rainymorning.Thestormcoveredtheentirevalley,anditalsocoveredallofthemountainsonbothsides.Irelaxed

evenmore.Iwasfeelingquitebrave,asIdroveonthroughtherain.Itwasobvioustomethattherangeswouldremainclosedtoday.Therangeratswouldhaveapleasantdayplayingcardsonbase,intheshedsoutbackofthemotorpool.Becauseofthestormandthehour,Inaturallyexpectedtobealoneoutontheranges.Soonthebuildingsofrangethreeloomedslowlyupoutofthemistandtherain.Iparkedmytruckin

front of the generator shack, left the lights on, the engine idling, and quickly started one of the dieselgenerators. Inoted thatallof the fuel tankswere full, so thedieselcould run formonths, ifnecessary.Then, getting back into my truck, for protection from the rain, I drove the short distance over to myweathershack.Iturnedofftheengine,andtheheadlightsasIparkedthetruckinfrontofmyshack.Inafewshortminutes,Ihadopenedthefrontdoor, turnedonthelightsandtheheater,andwaswellonmywaytohavingaveryenjoyablemorning.WhenIhaddrivenuptotherangethreebuildings,Ihadn’tpaidmuchattentiontoanythingexceptthe

rain.Itwasdark,raining,andmisty.Myeyeshadscannedacrossalargedullwhiteobjectahalf-mileorsoout in thedesert,northwestof therangethreelounge.Itwasjustbarelyvisible throughthemistandrain,andIsupposedthatitwasjustanotherpartofthestorm.Afterall,Iwasexpectingnothingbutdesertoutthere.

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WhenIdroveouttotheranges,Iseldomtookthetroubletolookallaround.Iseldomlookedinallofthebuildings,beforegoingonaboutmybusiness,butonceinawhileIdid.ThosemorningswhenIdidinvestigate,usuallyeverythingwasobviouslydeserted,butsomemorningsweredifferent.Somemorningsthehiddenareaswouldgiveforthsounds,bumps,flurriesofactivity,anddull,whitefluorescentglowsthatspedoffintothedesert,stoppingtowatchmefromafar.OnemorningItrippedoverajackrabbit,soIsupposed that all of the sights and sounds were due to rabbits, dreams, eye problems, or maybeloneliness.Thismorning,becauseofthestorm,Isawnoneedtocheckthelounge,thetower,andtheotherhiddenareasoutat range three.The rainwasheavy.Thenightwasdark.Themistwaseverywhere. ItseemedasifIweretheonlycreatureonGod’sgreenEarthwithanyreasontobeoutontherangesonanightlikethis.Enteringmyweathershack,Iturnedonthelights,startedmygasheater,turnedonmyradio,closedthe

frontdoorbehindme,andopenedwidemysidedoor.ThenIgotmypapersandmyotherthingsreadyforthe morning balloon run. Even though the balloon release wasn’t scheduled for almost three hours, Iinflatedtheballoon.Ireasonedthatitmightberainingtoohardat4:30tomaketheballoonrun.However,if I hadmyballoon ready, and therewasabreak in the stormbefore then, I could release theballoonearly,andstillgetauseablesetofwinds.Itwasagoodplan,butitrequiredthatIperiodicallychecktheprogressofthestorm-asimpletaskforanexperiencedweatherobserverlikemyself.Itwasasteadyrain,anditwasn’tverywindy,soIleftmysidedooropenandmyfrontdoorclosed.Nowthateverythingwasinreadiness,Icheckedtherainoutside,andsettleddowntothenextchapter

inmyAmericanHistory book. The chapter Iwas reading, described how the family of settlers in the1800s, had first enteredMojaveWells valley from the north. It described how they had brought theirwagonsdownthisveryvalley,apparentlypassingclosetothespotwheremyweathershackstood,andcontinueddowntotheactualspringsnownamedMojaveWells.Ifoundthechapterengrossing,andtimeslippedawayonme.AsIsattherereadingandwonderingwhatthedaysoftheoldwestmighthavebeenlike,animageof

how the settlersmight have looked as theywalkedby this spot in thedesert, formed inmymind.Theimagewaspleasantandrelaxing.Inmymind’seye,Iimaginedmyselfsittingononeoftheledgesinthemountains to the northeast, watching them as they and their wagons traveled down theMojaveWellsvalley.Ifoundmyselfwonderinghowthesettlerswouldhavefeltiftheyhadknownthattheywerebeingwatchedfromafar.Then,inmymind’seye,IimaginedthatIcouldseethemsittingandeatingaroundacampfireatnight,justamileorsofromthisspot,whilesomecurious,non-threateningtotallychalkwhitewomanout in thedesert,circledaroundthem,watchingtheireverymove.Ibeganfeelingas thoughtheimagewasreal,accurate,andintentionallycommunicatedtomebysomewomanwhohadactuallysatononeofthemountainledgestothenortheast,watchingthesettlersfromadistance.Ibecameannoyedwithmyself,sincemypurposehadbeentoeducatemyself,nottodaydream.Withmucheffort,Ifinallyforcedtheimagesfrommymind.Theimageskeptcomingback,so,togetcontrolofmyself,IturnedtooneofthelaterchaptersonthehistoryofthecityofSeattle.Puttingthebookdownatlast,Iturnedsuddenlytowardstheopensidedoorbehindme,andpeeredout

intothemistandtheheavyrain.Myintentionhadbeentochecktheprogressofthestorm.Consequently,myeyesimmediatelycametorestonathick,rectangular,dullwhitepatchofmistlocatednomorethan30feetoutinthedesert.Thepatchappearedtobesome6or7feettall,and5or6feetwide.Sittinginmywell-lit shack, my eyes weren’t used to looking out into the rainy darkness. Consequently, I wasn’tsurprisedwhenitappearedtofloatawaysilentlytothesouth.Atthetime,however,Iwasleftwondering.Itappearedtobetooclose,andfartoosolidtobeapatchofcloudsorrain,andthestormwasmovingtowardsthenorth.Mostofall,Icouldn’tshakeofftheimpressionthatithadbeenstandingthere,outinthe

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rain,watchingme,beforeithaddriftedawayintothewind.SinceIhadn’tcheckedtheweatheroutsideforsometime,Idecidedtogooutsideintotherainandtake

agood lookaround.Steppingoutside throughmysidedoor, Igingerlystrodearound to thefrontofmyshack.Imadea lotofnoiseasIdid-soat least therabbitswerescared.Itwasmuddyoutside,andthecloudsweresolowthattherewouldhavebeenlittleuseinreleasingtheballoon.TherainwassoheavyIcould just barelymake out the lounge building, the control tower, and the range billboards. The lowcloudsobscuredthetopsofthebuilding.TheRangeThreeouthouse,whichstoodoutinthedeserttothenorth,wastotallyobscuredbytherain.However,thelargewhitemistypatchhadreturned.Nowitwasfloatingoutinthesagebrush,afewinchesoffthedesert,lessthan50feetfromme,outintheskipbombpracticeareatothenortheast.Istudieditintentlyforfifteenminutesorso.Ibecamecertainthatthewhitepatchintherainwaswatchingmeback.Inanyevent,whateveritwas,ithadmademeverycurious.Itfloatedthererelativelymotionless,eventhoughthestormcontinuedtodriftby.Idecidedtowalkovertowhereitwas,andgetacloserlook.Yet,asIwalkedtowardsit,Icouldn’tseemtoclosethe50feetorsowhich separated it fromme. I stepped across the cable into the skip bomb area, and walked slowlytowards it. Feelingquite foolish, andbeginning to feel apprehensive, I calledout to it, “Is anyoneoutthere?Whoareyou?Doyouneedhelp?Whatdoyouwant?”Therewasno response. It continued to fallbackaway fromme, always in total silence.Soon Ihad

followeditagreatdistanceoutintothetallsagebrushnortheastofthegraveledarea,andthelightsofmyweather shackwere becoming very dim in the rain behindme. The rain let upmomentarily as I waslookingbacktowardstherangethreebuildings,nowmorethan400feetaway.Tomysurprise,itappearedthatthelightsintherangethreeloungewereon.Bothroomsintheloungewerefilledwithasoftwhitefluorescentlightthatfloodedoutthroughtheopendoorwayandthelargeglasswindows,illuminatingthecementwalkwayinfront.A7foottallmistyfluorescentwhitepatchfloatedbythenortheastcornerofthebuilding,anditseemedtobealwaysstayingbetweenmeandthecementwalkwayoutfront.Twomoremistyfluorescentwhitepatchescouldbevaguelyseenthroughtherain,floatingslowlyfromtheloungeoutintothedeserttowardsthenorthwest,allinperfectsilence.“Foranemptydesertedbuildingsitting22milesoutinthedesert,theresureissomepartygoingon,”I

mutteredtomyself.Astherainclosedbackin,obscuringmyviewoftheRangeThreelounge,theproblemfinally forced its way into my cold rain soaked consciousness. I felt a certain momentary shock as Irememberedreplacinga100-wattlightbulbintheRangeThreeloungeafewweeksbefore.Atthattime,I’dcheckedallofthelights.IwascertaintheRangeThreeloungedidn’tusefluorescentlights.DecidingthatIhadgoneasfarintothedesertonthisrainy,stormyevening,ascommonsensewould

allow,Iturnedandstartedwalkingslowlybacktowardsthegraveledarea.Thewhitepatchalsoturned,andforatimeitfollowedmeback,alwaysmaintainingthe50feetdistancebetweenus.AsIwasreachingthecable fence, it finally floatedslowlyoff,disappearingat last, instately fashion, into thedark rainymistsahundredfeetorsotothenorth.Therainwasgettingsteadilyworse,andbynowIwaswetandcold.Isloggedbackacrossthegraveltothecozywarmthofmystoveandmyweathershack.WhenfinallyIarrivedbackinmyshack.Iwarmedmyselfbythestove.I left thesidedooropenfor

freshairandreturnedtoreadingmyhistorybook.AsIrereadthechapteronthehistoryofthediscoversofDeathValley,Inoticedthatthistimemymindwasnotfloodedwithimagesofsettlersandwagons,asithadbeenbefore.Thechangewasquitedramaticand I spenta fewminuteswonderingwhy. Itwas thesamebook.Itwasthesamenight.Itwasthesameme.OnlynowwhenIlookedoutthesidedoorintothedarkrainymists,therewasnowhitepatch.Icheckedmyconsciousnesssomemore.IturnedtothechapteronSeattle.Stillno imagesofnorthernforests,no imagesof thesnowcoveredmountains,no imagesofsturdyunshavensettlerscameintomymind,astheyhaddonesobefore,andstillnowhitepatchoutinthe

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rain.InmymindIstruggledforawhile.IdecidedthatImusthavebeendreaming.Ijustcouldn’tacceptthe

realityoftheobviousconclusion.Afterall,fortheimagestohavebeenplacedinmymindbythewhitepatch,thatwouldmeanthatitwouldhavehadtobemorethan150yearsold.Thentherewastheproblemofcommunication.Inorderfortheimagestohavecomefromthewhitepatch,itwouldfirsthavetoknowwhatIwasthinking,sothecommunicationwouldhavetoworkbothways.Thentherewasthequestionofitsmotives.Thewhitepatch’sonlypossiblemotivewouldhavebeenthatithadwantedtoentertainme,or toplaywithme in a childish, fashion.Logicno longerwas theproblem.Whatever the logicof thesituationwas,Ijustcouldn’taccepttherealityoftheobviousconclusions.Iclosedthebook,andputitbackontheshelfinfrontofme.Mymindwasnotupforreadinganymore.I

hadtodecideifthewhitepatchhadbeenreal,ifithadintentionallycomeoutheretoenjoythebeautyofthenightrainstorm,asIhad,orifitwasjustadriftingpatchofmistandrain.Iturnedoffmyradio,anddecided to just sit quietly in my chair, looking out the side door, into the cold, dark rainy mists. Iwondered if thewhitepatchwould return.Afterwaiting20minutesorso,mypatiencewas rewarded.About30feetoutinthedesert,thewhitepatchslowlyfloatedbackintoviewintotalsilence.Thistimeitfloatedinfromthesoutheast.Itblendedinsowellwiththedarkness,themists,andtherainthatIwasn’tatfirstsurethatithadreturned.OnceagainIspoketoit,callingoutloudly,“Isthatyou?Whoeveryouare,whatareyou?Whatdoyouwant?Youfrightenme.I’monlyaweatherobserver.IonlycomeoutherebecauseIhavetoreporttheweathertoDesertCenter.Whatdoyouwant?Whyareyouwatchingme?”Againtherewasnoresponse.Theonlysoundwasthesoundofthecoldheavyrainfallingsteadilyon

theroofofmyweathershack.Standingupslowly,andstillwonderingifIwasn’tjusttalkingtotherain,Idecidedtostepoutsideandtrytogetabetterviewofit.AsIdidso,Ispoketowhateveritwas,“Don’tworry.Iwon’thurtyou.Youfrightenme.Ijustwanttoseewhatyouare.”Yetitmadenodifference.AsIsteppeddownfromthesidedoorwayintothemudoutside,onceagainitfloatedslowlyawayfromme.Againitretreatedoutintothedesert, thistimedowntowardsthesoutheast.Therainwaslighterinthatdirection.Itwasn’tuntilthewhitepatchwassome200feetfrommethatitfinallydisappearedoutintothedarkness,therain,andthemists.Still,mymindwouldn’tletmeaccepttherealityofwhatIhadjustseen.“Itmustbetherain,”Isaidtomyselfoutloud.“Itmustjustbesomethingtodowiththerain.”Iwentbackinto thewarmthofmyshack,andsatdownto thinkabout things.ThenIrememberedthe

white patch that I had seen vaguely through the rain as I had driven up to the range three buildings. Iwonderedifitwasstillthere.ThispatchhadbeenmuchlargerthantheoneIhadjustseen.Ithadbeenthesizeofabuildinglargerthantherangethreelounge.Idecidedtodriveoverthere.Maybethatlargewhitepatchwasstilloutthere.Iwentouttomytruckparkedinfrontofmyweathershack.TryasIwould,itjustwouldn’tstart.EventhoughitsV8enginewasinperfectworkingorder,andthebatterywasnewandfullycharged,itbehavedasthoughthebatterywastotallydead.Swearingtomyself,Igotoutofmytruck,outintothecoldhardrain.Idecidedtowalkovertothenorthwest,towardswhereIhadseenthelargewhitepatch.Therewerenooutsidelightson,andmyflashlightwasmyonlycompanion.Nowmyflashlight,andthenewsparebatteriesIalwayscarriedwithme,failedtoo.UndauntedbythesestartlingdevelopmentsIcontinuedwalking slowly through the darkness and the rain towards thewestern edge of the graveledarea.WhenIreachedtheedgeofthethinsagebrushonthewesternside,IdecidedIhadcomeasfarfromthewarmthofmyweathershackasmadesense.Iwantedtocontinueon,outintothesagebrushtowardsthenorthwest,andIwasswearingtomyselfbecausemyusuallydependabletruckhadn’tstarted.Commonsensedictatedthatitwouldn’tbesafeformetogoanyfurther.Istoodthere,inthedrivingrain,bytheedgeofthesagebrush,for15or20minutes,studyingthedarknessinfrontofme.Myvisionwasperfect,andIfoundmyconclusionsomewhatunnerving.

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Therewasnoquestionaboutit.Somethinglargeandwhitewasparkedlessthanaquartermileoutinasmall depression in the desert, parked out there in the darkness, in themists, and in the rain. Smallerfluorescentwhite patches, someonly3or 4 feet tall, others 5 and7 feet tallwouldperiodically floatbetweenthislargewhiteobjectandtheRangeThreelounge.Iwascertainthatmyconclusionwascorrect.Yet, the shock of it all somehow prevented me from fully grasping the situation I had accidentallystumbledinto.Betweenthelargewhiteobjectandme,some70feetorsoinfrontofme,floatedanother7foottallmistywhiterectangularpatch.Itappearedtobesimilartothefirst,onlythisonerefusedtofallbackwhenIsteppedforward.Feelingcold,andwet,andnoticeablyafraidtogoanyfurther,Iquicklyretracedmystepsbacktothe

warmthofmyweathershack.Onceinside,Inoticedthatmyflashlightwasnowworkingperfectlyagain.Myspiritswerebuoyedbythisdiscovery,andmyfearsbegansubsiding.Idecidedtotrymytruckagainandittoonowstartedperfectly.Afterrevvingtheengineforafewminutes,andconvincingmyselfthatitwouldstartagain,Ishutitoffandgotbackoutintothecoldhardrain.Itwasnowgoingon4:00a.m.Therainwassubsiding,andIdecidedthatIwouldbeabletoreleasetheballoononscheduleat4:30.AsIwas standing there, checking theprogressof the storm,onceagain Inoticed the firstwhitepatch.Thistimeitwasfloatingintherain,overbehindtherangethreebillboards.Feelingbraver,now,believingthatmytruckwouldstartagain,Idecidedtoonceagaincloseonthesmallwhitepatch.Istillwonderedwhatit couldbe.Keeping the rangeboardsbetweenme and thewhite patch, Iwalkedquickly to thenorth,toward thewesternendof therangebillboards. Itdidn’tseemtoknowthat Iwascoming. Iclosed thedistanceasfastandasquietlyasIcouldwithoutactuallyrunning.Comingevenwiththewesternendoftherangebillboards,nowsome10feetfromme,Iwasfinallyabletoseeintothemistyfluorescentwhitepatchwhichfloatedintheheavyrainontheotherside.Theraindidn’tseemtoactuallyfallintothewhitefluorescentarea,butrather,therainappearedtojustfallinstreamlinedpatternsaroundit.MyeyeshurtwhenIlookedintothefluorescentwhitelight,andIcouldlookintoitforonlyafewseconds.Itreactedtomypresencealmostimmediately.Standingthereinthewhitefluorescentmistwasachalkwhitewoman-likecreature,verythin,maybe6feettall,cladinwhatappearedtobeanaluminum-canvassuit,withanopenhelmet,andaluminumlikeglovesandboots.Thecreaturefeltpleasant, friendly, fully-grown,andtotally feminine;but itdidn’tactually feelhuman. Instead, it felt as though Iwas lookingatabeautifulfeminineanimal,suchasahorse.IwasstunnedbythefactthatasIlookedatit,IfeltthesameasIhadfeltwhen the images of a beautiful white woman studying the settlers passing through theMojaveWellsvalley,hadfloodedthroughmybrain.Inmymind,sheseemedtobelaughingandteasingmeinafriendlygirlishmanner.Sheseemedtobelaughing,“Nowthatyou’vecaughtme,Charlie,whatareyougoingtodowithme?”Then,stilllaughing,sheretreatedfromme,disappearingonceagain,outintothedarkness,andoutintothecoldhardrain,outintotheemptydeserttothenortheast,allintotalsilence.“AmIstillsane?”Igrimlymutteredtomyself.Istoodthereintherainforalongtime,innumbedshock,

denial,anddisbelief.Afteralongtime,thecoldhardrainfallingonmyfacebroughtmebacktomysenses.Grimly,Iturned,

andtrudgedbackthroughtherain,towardmyweathershack.Icouldn’taccepttherealityofwhatIhadjustseen.IdecidedthatImustbedreaming,orgoingnuts.Idecidedthatthebestthingformetodowouldbetojustreleasemyweatherballoon,takemymeasurements,phoneDesertCenterwiththeresults,andheadbacktobase.Withoutfurtherado,Iunlockedmytheodolite,removedtheprotectivecover,gotmyballoon frommyweather shackand released it.Then I began taking thewindmeasurements.As I hadexpected,after less than2minutesofflight, theballoondisappearedinto thebaseof therainclouds.Itmeanttherunwasover.Icoveredandlockedmytheodolite,collectedmythings,andtrudgedbacktomyshack.

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Thecalculations tookonlyaminuteorso.ThephonetoDesertCenterhadlotsofstatic,butworkedsufficiently.ReadingmyreporttotheDesertCenternightshiftobserverwentbyinaflash.Theobservergavemethehappynews,theDesertCenterBaseCommanderhaddecidedthatnoweatherreportsfromtheMojaveWellsgunneryrangesshouldbetakentoday,includingtheoneIwasjustphoningin.“Great,”Imuttered tomyself, as I hung up the phone. “Isn’t that just like themilitary. I come out here early, gothroughthreehoursofGodknowswhat-all,justtotaketwowindmeasurementswhichtheythrowinthewastepaperbasket!”Withapracticedhand,Iturnedoffmystove,securedmyradio,turnedoffmylights,andlockedupmy

weathershack.ThenIstartedmytruck,andturnedonmyheadlights.SinceIwouldn’tbecomingbackoutagain today, I decided to check the rain cover on my theodolite one last time. I pulled my truck upalongside the theodolite stand and left the engine running, and the headlights on. I got out and doublechecked everything. I had just finisheddoing sowhen I lookedup in thedirectionof theRangeThreelounge.Floatingthereintherainsome50feetawayfromme,justoutoftheedgeofmytruck’sheadlightswasonce again, the seven foot tall, fluorescentwhite patch.Occasionally, between thewaves of coldrain,Icouldmakeouttheimageofathin,tall,chalkwhiteman,standingthereinsideofthefluorescentpatch,intentlywatchingme.Iwassuddenlystruckbythewayheseemedtoanticipatemyeverymove.HeobviouslyintendedtoblockanyroutethatImighttake,wereItodecidetowalkovertotheRangeThreeloungeandinspectthefluorescentlightsinside.Foraninstant,Istoodfrozeninfear,inthedrivingrain,watchinghiseverymoveashewatchedmine.

Thetwoofus,wereobviouslyofakind,protectingthedoorwaybetweentwodifferentworlds,worldsthatconnectedoutthereinthenight.Hewasforcedtodefendhisworld,asIwasforcedtodefendmine.Hisdefenserequiredthatheconfrontme,butforme,Ihadamuchsimplerdefense.Icouldpretendthathewasn’t real. I could retreat. I could back slowly away from the doorway. Iwasn’t protecting anythingphysical. Ididn’thave toblockanyone’spath. Iwasprotectingonlymyownhappy innocence. IcouldthinkaboutGodandHis love. I couldcallonGod forhelp. I couldcryout suddenly, in amomentaryterror,“Notouthere!Notouthereintherain!”ThenIcouldbreakandrun.Mydefenseallowedmesomanywaystodenythewhitemist’sreality,andtherealityofthetallwhitemanstandinginside.Iturnedasideandrefusedtolookinhisdirection.ThenIconvincedmyselfthathewasn’tthereatall.

Suppressingmymomentarypanic,Ibeganmyretreat.Carefully,Igotbackintomytruck.Ibackedawayfromthewhitepatchanddroveovertothegeneratorshack.Leavingthetruckenginerunningandthelightson,andintotaldenial,Ihurriedlyshutdownthedieselandquicklyreturnedtotheinnocentsafetyofmytruck,lockingthetruckdoorsafterIhadgottenbackinside.IwasrelievedwhenIglancedbackandsawthatthewhitepatchhadn’tfollowedme,hadn’tpursued.AsIbroughtthetruckbackontothepavement,shiftedintohighgear,andheadedbackonintotown,Ibreathedseveraldeepsighsofrelief.Iwasnowinthebusinessofprotectingmyself.IwasnowinthebusinessofpretendingtomyselfthatIwasalonewhenIwasoutontheranges.IwasnowinthebusinessofpretendingtomyselfthatIwasGod’sonlyintelligentcreaturethatenjoyedthebeautyofanighttimedesertstorm.Iwasnowinthebusinessofpretendingthatthewhitepatches,whichIhadseenoutthereintherain,weren’treal.Ididsuchagoodjobofpretendingthat as I drove on into base, I turned off mywindshield wipers. I began singing one ofmymade upsunshinesongs.“.Oh,God,don’tlettheraincomedown.,“andIproceededtopretendthateventhecoldhardrain,eventheverystormitself,wasn’treal.

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AllThataManHas...Onceagain,thesonsofGodcametopresentthemselvesbeforetheLord,andSatanalsocameamongthem.

AndtheLordsaidtoSatan,“Whencedoyoucome?”

ThenSatanansweredTheLordandsaid,“Fromroamingtheearthandpatrollingit.”

AndtheLordsaidtoSatan,

“HaveyounoticedmyservantJob…?”

AndSatanansweredtheLordandsaid,

“SkinforSkin,allthatamanhas,

willhegiveforhislife…

...Job2:1,4

OnceagainIneededtogointoDesertCenterforsupplies.OnceagainIcheckedoutthetwoandahalfton truck from theMojaveWells motor pool. I loadedmy empty helium tanks, collected my log andinventorybooksasbefore,andbeganthelongrunintoDesertCenter.Itwasabeautifuldayandtherewasmuch to be considered.The logbooks containedmany entries.One entrywas fromanobserver namedMcPherson.Fouryearsbefore,hehadwritten,“Range#3,0615hours.Iwaslatephoninginthemorningreport.Thelightscameagainthismorning.Theycameincloserthaneverbefore.Ireleasedthemorningballoonon timeat0430hours.After I took the readings, Ibeganwalkingback tomyweather shack. IthoughtIgotaglimpseofsomechildplayingintheweathershack.ThenIthoughtIsawsomeadultstepoutfromthealleybythesupplysheds,andpointsomethingatme.Idon’tknowwhatIwasdoingforthenexthourandtenminutes.Therange#3areaseemsdesertednow,butI’mterrifiedofthisplace.”WhenIreachedthesupplydepotatDesertCenter,Iparkedmytruck,wentinside,andcheckedoutmy

supplies.Thechiefmastersergeantwaswaitingtotalkwithme.Thistimehegreetedmewithasmileanda friendlymanner.Once againwe took seats at the nearby table. The sergeant turned towardsme andasked,“WhatdoyouthinkisgoingonupatMojaveWells,Charlie?Iknewallofthosemenwhoserveduptherebeforeyou.That’showIproudlyearnedtheseeightstripes-bykeepingintouchwiththemenandmakingcertaintheyhadthesuppliestheyneededwhenevertheyneededthem.Thegunneryrangesuptherearebeautifulplaces.Drivingoutontotherangesandreportingthewindson

anicedayliketoday,isafinejob.Allyouhavetodoisdriveoutintothebeautifuldesertsunshineandrelease a balloon five times a day. It beats the crap out of sitting around a dirtywarehouse like this,workingindoorsinthedustandfumes.Outthereyou’refree.Therearenoofficersorsergeantstogiveamananycrap.WhatIwanttoknowis:Whywould59menbeforeyou,eachinhisturn,deserttheranges?

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Whywouldtheydosuchathing?You’vebeenupthereforquiteafewweeksnow.You’vealreadytakenmorewindmeasurementsthanalloftheobserversbeforeyou,andyou’restillgoingoutthere.Whatisitthatranalloftheothersofftheranges,buthasn’tbotheredyou?”“Idon’tknow,Sergeant,”Iresponded.Lookingovertherecords,hecontinued,“Theonlyobserverwhowasanywhereclosetoyoursupply

requestswasthatobserverseveralyearsagowithadrinkingproblem.Yetherequisitionedlessthanonethirdofthequantityheshouldhavebeenrequesting.HeandIsharedabeernowandthen,downat theAirman’sclub.HealwayssworethathestayedstonesoberwhenhewasupattheWells.Hetoldmethatifhehadevena singledrinkandwentoutonto the ranges,he’dstart seeing things.Things likedistantlightsandchalkwhitepeople, littlechildrenwithclawsthatfloateduparoundtherocksandcliffsandstuff.Onetimeheclaimedthathehadseenaradioactivehorsehecalled‘RangeFourHarry’.“Hewasn’ttheonlyonetoclaimthateither.Dozensofthoseotherobserverswouldcomeinhereand

tellmetheweirdeststories.Theyusedtoclaimthatamanwouldhavetogiveuphisverysanity,justtostayaliveforevenonenightoutthereontheranges.ButyouknowCharlie,Ineverpaidanyattentiontothosestoriesuntilyouopenedmyeyeswiththesesupplyrequests.”“DoyourememberanobservernamedMcPherson?”Iasked.“Yes, thesergeantresponded.“Irememberhimwell.Hewasastaffsergeant,afourstriper.Hewas

anotheronethatusedtotellmemoreofthosestories,”answeredthesergeant.“Howso?”Iasked.“I remember the first day he came in here. Hewas on his second enlistment. He’d justmade staff

sergeant.Hewassoproudofthosefourstripes.Hewastellingmehowhewasgoingtodoabetterjobupat the ranges than any man before him. He checked out 50 balloons, 2 tanks of helium, some officesupplies,and500blankforms.Thenjustthreeweekslater,hecameinherelookinglikeawhippeddog.Hewassonervousandedgy.HewouldhavefaintedifIhadshoutedathim.ItellyouCharlie,McPhersonwasonefineairman,buthedidn’thaveacuttingedgeonhim.Hedidn’tknowhowtomarkouthisownpieceofground,andstandthereandfight.ItellyouCharlieBaker,hewasn’tthetoughnosedsoldierthatyouare.”Ismiledpleasantlyandtookthesergeant’swordsasafinecompliment.The sergeant continued. “On his second visit, McPherson requisitioned another 500 blank forms.

Imagine that,Charlie.He’ddriven all thewaydownhere just to requisition another 500 forms. Iwassurprised.When Iwas fillingout thepaperwork, I explained tohim thathewaswelcome toasmanyblankformsashewanted,butIwonderedwhyheneededanother500sosoon.Imean,1000blankformsinonlythreeweeksisalotofforms.“McPhersonexplainedthattheotherblankformswereoutintherangethreeweathershack.Heneeded

thesenewformstokeepwithhiminhisbarracks.SoIaskedhimwhyhedidn’tjustdriveouttorangethreeandpickupacouplehundredorsooftheotherforms.Itseemedtomethatwouldbeatdrivingwaydownhere,justformoreforms.“ButMcPherson didn’t see it thatway.He toldme that he had abandoned all of the rangeweather

shacks.Hewouldn’tgooutontotherangesagain,eveniftheAirForceweretocourtmartialhim.Hesaidtherewassomethingouttherethatwouldwaitforhim.Hesworethatatfirstitwouldjuststandoutinthesagebrushandwatchhimfromadistance.Thenitgotbraver.Itwouldhideinaroundthebuildings,andfollowhimaroundwhereverhewent.Therewasanighthecalled‘TheNightofwhiteTerror’.Hesaiditwasanightwhenthelightscamerightinaroundthebuildings,andwouldn’tgoaway.Whateveritwas,itcameupbehindhiminperfectsilence,andjuststoodstudyinghiseverymove.Hewasbreakingdownintearswhenhewasspillinghisgutstome.Hesaidthatnightithadcomeinsoclosebehindhimthatwhen

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heturnedaround,hecouldhavealmosttouchedit.Hebecamehystericalandlefttherangesinapanic.Hewouldn’tdrivebackoutthereagain,eventopickuphispersonalbelongings.McPhersonfinishedthatoneTDYandimmediatelyputinforatransfer.”Thesergeanttookasipofcoffeeandcontinued,“ThentherewasJackson.Hewasatechsergeant,a

fivestriperonhisthirdenlistment.HewasablackmanwhohadgrownupintheslumsofChicago.Youknowhehad to beone tough soldier.They sent himup there because theguybefore himhad run intosomethingoutonrangefourandhadgottenburnedrealbad.Hesaidthefirstcoupleofdayshewasupthere,heworkedlikeadogandtookalloftheballoonrunsasscheduled.Thenonthethirdday,justafterbreakfast,ashewasreleasingtheballoon,hesaidthatthreeofthemsteppedoutfrombehindtherangethree lounge. Iguess itwas twomenandawomandressedupwhite as sheets. It scaredhim.Hewasafraidtheymightbemembersofsomewhiteracistgroup.Hesaidtheyjuststoodtherewatchinghim,asthoughtheywantedtotalktohimfromadistance.Well,Itellyou,Charlie,Jacksontookoutofthereandhehasn’tbeenbacktoMojaveWellssince.“ThentherewasTaylor.HewasayoungAirmanFirst.Thedayhecameinherefouryearsago,allhe

wantedwassomeinkpensandforms.Hewasrealnervousandcagey.Iwastryingtobreaktheice,soIaskedhimifhe’deverseenanythingunusualupthere.Heturnedwhiteasasheet.Hesaidhealwayskeptasharplookout,tryingtomakesurethatnothingsurprisedhim,thewayithadtheothers.Hesaidonthethirdmorning hewas up there, hewas taking themorning run out at range three.He heard somethingbehindhim.Heturnedaround.StandingtherewasRangeFourHarry,smilingathim,bigaslife.Hesaidhe screamed in terror and tookoff running for town.Taylor claimed that as he left, he couldhear oldHarry laughingathim,as thoughallHarrywanted todowasprovehecouldsurprisehim.TaylorwasanotheronethatwouldnevergobackuptoMojaveWellsagain.”“Butnoneofthosemenwereeveractuallythreatenedwerethey?”Iasked.“No,” replied the sergeant. “But they were all terrified just the same. Some of the other weather

observers,however,havebeenattackedandburned,outthereontheranges.Severalofthemhavebeengivenmedicaldischarges.”Thenturningtome,thesergeantcontinued,“Howaboutyou,Charlie.Iwanttoknowwhyyou’velastedwhentheydidn’t.Intheweeksyou’vebeenoutthere,hasanythinglikethateverhappenedtoyou?Whyhaven’tyoubecomefrightened,too?”“I wouldn’t say I was any braver than those men,” I responded. The ranges can be mighty scary,

especiallyatnight.I’veseenlotsofunusualthings,butnothinghasfrightenedmesobadthatIcouldn’tsaymyprayers,shrugitoff,trustGodtoprotectme,andcarryonwithmyorders.”“Things?Whatthings?”askedthesergeant.“Well,I’veseenthoselightswayupthevalley.TheyseemtobeintelligentlycontrolledasMcPherson

reported.I’veseenthemcomingpartwaydowntheroadwhichconnectsrangefourwithrangethree.Butsofar,they’vebeenstoppingquiteawaysoff,beforetheygettorangethree.”“Doyouseethemoften?”askedthesergeant.“Yes,” I answered. “Onmost nights I first see themwayup on the northwest side ofMojaveWells

valley,betweenabout11:30p.m.and1:00a.m.Therearealwaysfiveorsixofthem.Usuallytheyfloatdown towards the buildings at range four. They play around the range four buildings for awhile andsometimescomedown the road towards range threewhere I am.Then theygobackup thevalley justbeforesunrise.Atfirsttheymademealittleedgy,butthenIshruggeditoff.‘Life’stooshort,’Isaid.‘tobe scared.’Theyobviously know I’mout here. If theywanted to hurtme, theywouldhavedone it bynow.’”“Iseeyou’readifferentyoungmanthenMcPhersonwas,”Statedthesergeantmatter-of-factly.“Thenthere’sthatflyingtrainenginewhichI’vebeenseeinglately,”Icontinued.“Atleastthat’swhatit

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lookslike.Ifirstnoticeditearlylastweek.Iwasoutatrangethreeabout7:30a.m.inthemorning.Iwassittinginmyweathershackgetting theformsreadywhenIsawit followingalongthe landscapeupthevalleytowardsrangefour.Itwasthreeorfourmilesawayatthetime.Itwassolidwhiteandlookedverysimilartothedieselengineonapassengertrain.Ofcourse,thesideswerealotrounderandtheymoldedsmoothlyintothebottom.Itdidn’thaveanywingsorwheelsoranything,anditdidn’tmakeanysoundasittraveled.Itwasflyingalongabouttenortwentyfeetabovethesagebrush.AtfirstIdidn’tthinkanythingofit.Butthenextmorningitcamebyagainattheverysametime,soIbecamecurious.Icamebackoutfrombreakfastearly.Iwantedtoseeifitcameathirdtime.Sureenough,thenextday,at7:30a.m.sharp,itappearedfollowingtheterrainthroughthatpassinthemountainsjustafewmilesnorthwestofthetown.Itfollowedtheterraintowardstheeastuntilitwasjustoverthelowpointofthevalley.Thenitterrainfollowedupthevalleytowardsrangefour,skirtingthebuildingsatrangethreeintheprocess.Whenitgotupbytherangefourbuildings,itskirtedaroundthesouthernandeasternedgeofthebuildings.Whenitwasatapointaboutaquartermilesouthwestoftherangefourbuildings,itpausedinitsflightandfloatedinmidair forabout thirtyseconds,obviouslystudying thebuildings in intelligent fashion.Theway thevehicle maneuvered convinced me that it was intelligently controlled. Then it sped up and terrainfollowedupthevalleytowardsthenortheast.Theentireflighttookaboutfiveminutes.Theclosestitevergottomewasaboutamileandahalf.ThatdayIhadbeenwatchingitfrominsidemyrangethreeweathershack.“Thenextday,Iwantedtogetabetterlookatit.Aftergoinginforbreakfast,Ireturnedtorangethree

early,asbefore.IparkedmytruckoutintheopenbythegeneratorshackasIalwaysdo.ThenIstoodoutin the open, on thewest side of the range three loungewaiting for it. At 7:30 a.m., just as before, itappearedterrainfollowingthroughthatlowpasstothewest,andbeganenteringthevalley.Butthistime,itactedasthoughitsawmestandingtherewatchingit.Whoeverwasonboardmusthaveeyesasgoodasthose of an eagle or a cat because itwas almost tenmiles away at the time.This time it appeared toabandonitsflightplan.Itretreatedtotheverybaseofthemountainsalongthefarwestsideofthevalley.Thenitterrainfollowednorthupthevalley.Thistimeitnevergotcloserthanfourorfivemilesfromme.Thenextmorningitstartedfollowingacompletelydifferentpath.Nowitentersthevalleyusingapasstwentymilesorsonorthwestofme.Thenitspeedsacrossthevalleymuchfasterthanitusedto.NowIcan’tseemuchofanything,soIjustgaveupfollowingit.”Thesergeantsat thinkingforaminuteorso.Thenhespoke in fatherly tones.“On those first trips, it

terrain followed a distance of about thirtymiles in less than fiveminutes.That’s an average speed ofapproximately 350 miles an hour traveling only 20 feet above the sagebrush. That’s one awful highperformancevehicle.There’snowaytheU.S.AirForceoranyoneelseonthisearthcouldhavebuiltit!Didn’titfrightenyou?”“No,sergeant,”Iresponded.“Shouldithave?”“Yes! A vehicle like that could have come down on you the way an eagle comes down on a field

mouse,”repliedthesergeant.“Itwouldcertainlyhavescaredthoseobserversbeforeyou.”Stammeringsome,andoffbalance,Iresponded,“Butitnevergotveryclosetome.Amileandahalfis

stillalongwaysoff.”“At350milesanhour, it couldcover thatdistance in less than15seconds,Charlie,” responded the

sergeant.“Youwouldbarelyhavehadtimetofalltothegroundbeforeitwasonyou.“Tellme,Charlie,howclosedoesdangerhavetocometoyoupersonallybeforeyoufeelthreatened?

HowclosebeforeyoudecidethatyourGodisn’twatching,andyoufeelforcedtobreakandrun?”“Idon’tknowsergeant,”Iansweredthoughtfully.“Yesterdaymorningthelightscamefromupthevalley

again, theyway they have on somanymornings.Yesterday, they camedown the road from range four

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closerthentheyeverhavebefore.Atfirsttheymademealittlenervous,buttheyappearedtostopwhentheywere still over amile distant. I guess that distance forme is just over three quarters of amile.There’saridgeoutinthedesertnorthofrangethreewhichisjustunderthreequartersofamile.It’sabout1200yardsout.Iguesswhenitcomesdowntoit,I’mwillingtoignorethelights,trustinGod,andgoonaboutmybusinessuntil the lights comecloser than that ridge-until the lights come in closer than threequartersofamile.”“So,youbelieve that theGodyoupray to,can’tprotectyoufromdanger if itcomescloser than that

ridgeatthreequartersofamile?”askedthesergeant.“Yes,”Ianswered.“Iguesswhenitcomesdowntoit,that’swhatIbelieve-butsofarthey’vealways

stayedbackofthatridge,soIdon’tbelievethey’llcomeanycloser.”“Well,rememberCharlie,”saidthesergeant,“whenyouarestandingoutthereatrangethreelookingat

thelights,thoselightsareoutthereinthedesertlookingbackatyou.Whateverthoselightsare,theyhavecomemorethan25milesdownthatvalley,acrossgullies,sagebrush,rocks,canyons,andarroyos,justtoseewhatyouaredoing.Theysurearewillingtocloseinonyou.Theysurearewillingtocomethatlast1200yardsandconfrontyououtintheopen,facetoface,theywaytheyconfrontedthemenbeforeyou.Whenthatnightcomes,IpraythatyourGodstandsclosertoyouthanthreequartersofamile.”Itwaslate.Ithankedthesergeantgratefully,loadedthesuppliesontomytwoandahalftontruck,and

toldthegoodsergeantgood-bye.Bynow,itwaslateintheafternoon.Iwasfeelingaslightfeverandalittlenausea-perhaps from the flu-orperhaps from the stressof it all, so I decided to skip the eveningchowatDesertCenter.Irestedforalittlewhileatthebaselibrary.ThenIbeganthelongdrivebacktoMojaveWells.NightwasfallingasIheadedbackacrosstheDesertCentervalleyandfoundtheentranceramp for the newly built freeway.As I pulled onto the freeway, I could hear the belt breaking on thetruck’sgenerator.Havingno safeplace to turnaround, Idecided tokeepheading towards theWells. Ihoped the truck’sbatterywould last longenough togetme there.By the time Iwaspassing theexit toSilverCanyon,itwasobviousthatthetruck’sbatterywasnotgoingtobeuptothetask.Withtheenginemisfiringandrunningrough,Ifinallyreachedtherestareaatthetopofthegrade.Theenginelastedlongenoughformetobringthetruckintotherestarea,andparkitalongtherightsideofthepavement.Thereitquitaltogether.Itookanautoflarefromoutoftheglovecompartmentandjumpedoutofthetruckintothewarmearlyeveningair.Therestareaconsistedofatwo-lanestretchofpavementthatranparalleltothemain freeway fora fewhundred feet.Anordinary steel chain link fenceanda few feetofdesert sandwereall that separated themain lanes from the rest lanes. I raised thehoodon the truck,walkedbackbehindthetruck50feetorso,andlittheflare.ItburnedabrightredflameforabouttwentyminuteswhileIwaitedpatientlyforsomeonetostop.Theflarewasjustburningoutwhenastatetrooperpulledintotherestareawithhislightsflashing.Hestoppedhispatrolcarnexttome,andgotout.Iwassittingonthebackofthetruckatthetime.The trooper approachedme, “Good evening soldier. Somewomanwho calls herself ‘TheTeacher’

notifiedmydispatcherthatyouneededhelp.You’renamedCharlieBaker,right?”“Yes,”Iresponded.“Thegeneratorbeltonthetruckgaveoutonme.Idroveituntil thebatterywent

dead.IneedMarkfromthemotorpoolupatMojaveWellstocomedownwiththewreckerandanewbelt,togetmeoutofthismess.”“Right,soldier,”repliedthetrooper.“That’swhattheteachersaid.Mydispatcherhasalreadynotified

theairpoliceman,Bryan,upthere.HeandMarkaregettingabeltandgettingthewreckerreadynow.Istoppedbytoletyouknowtheywerecoming.They’llbehereinahalfhourorso.”“Thanks,officer,”Iresponded.“Ihaveplentyofwaterinthetruck.I’llbefineuntilthen.”The trooper got back intohis squad car, turnedoff the flashing lights, andheadedbackout onto the

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highway. Frommy vantage point near the top of the grade, I could see across the valley towards thenorthwestandintothenextnorth-southvalley.Fartothenorthwest,Icouldseeseveralofthedullwhitefluorescent lights thathad terrorizedMcPhersonsomanyyearsago. In thedistance, they seemed tobefloatingon thewarmeveningdesertair.Theyalsoseemed tobeoutunusuallyearly thisevening.As Iwatched,theymovedinmilitaryfashion,severalmilesdownthevalleytowardsMojaveWells.Inoticedasecondsetofdullfluorescentwhitelightsdowninthevalleythroughwhichthefreewayran.Thelightswere probably two miles away, partially hidden down in the sagebrush margin that bordered a drylakebed.Therewere five different lights down there.As Iwatched, the lights slowly kept closing thedistanceuntiltheywerelessthanamileaway.Ifeltsafeenough,parkednexttoabusyfreeway.Mymusingswerecutshortbythearrivalof thewreckerfromMojaveWells.Marktookthewrecker

downthehighwayashotdistancebeforecuttingacrossthecentralmedianstrip.Thenhebroughtthebigwreckerbackup the freeway to the restareawhere I satwaiting. I jumpeddownfromthebackofmytruckashearrived,andgreetedBryanandMark.Theypulledthebigwreckertherestofthewayupintothearea.Markrealizedmytruck’sbatteryandgeneratorwerelocatedonthepassengersideoftheengine,soheinstinctivelypulledthewreckeroffthepavementtotheright.Hecontinuedondownthegravelandsagebrushontherightshoulder,untiltheworkingpartofthewreckerwasadjacenttomytruck’sengine.Amidacloudofdust andgraveland flyingpiecesof sagebrush,he let thewrecker roll toa stop, andturnedofftheengine.IsupposedhewasplanningtotowmytruckintotheMojaveWellsmotorpool,soItookupamilitarypositionstandingnexttothefrontbumperofmytruckonthedriver’sside.Iremainedstandingupright,afootorsoawayfrommytruck,totheleftofmytruck’sfrontbumper.Becauseofthedustandgravelkickedupbythewrecker,Istoodfacingthefreeway,hopingtoprotectmyfaceandeyesfromthedebris.Mark,however,anexcellentmechanic,announcedhisintentiontoreplacethegeneratorbelt rightwhere the truckstood.Istoodlisteningtohim,watchinganewCadillacon thefreewayas itapproachedtheentrancetotherestarea.Itappearedtobetravelingmuchfaster thantheothertraffic.IstoodtheretransfixedastheCadillacleftthefreewayandenteredtherestareawithoutsomuchaslettingupon thegas.TheCadillacappeared tobe travelingatmore than80milesanhour. Istoodstationary,exposed, stunned, in shock, in the path of the oncoming car, unable to move a single muscle as theCadillacbarreleddownonme.WhileIstoodtransfixed,theCadillacdrovepastmeatperhaps80milesanhour,missingmybodypartsbynomorethan¾ofaninch-lessthanthelengthofanyoneofmyfingers.Therealizationofwhathadjusthappenedwasslowinfloodingoverme.Notasinglehairanywhereonmybodyhadbeen touched.Notasingle threadofclothanywhereonmyclothshadbeen touched.Thepolishonmyleathermilitaryshoeshadnotbeensomuchasdulled.Yetthecarhadpassedmesoclosethat Iwasat firstunable tobelieve ithadmissedme.Fora fewminutes I stood there, still transfixed,wonderingifitwasjustmysoulthatwasstandingtherewaitingforGod,andbelievingthatperhapsmyearthlybody,nowdead,wasbeingdraggedoffbythespeedingcar.Itwasn’tuntilmyeyeshadintenselysearchedeverysquareinchonthefronthoodoftheretreatingcar,searchingforpatchesofmybloodandpiecesofmyvariousbodyparts,andfindingnone,thatIfinallyrealizedIwasstillaliveanduntouched.Forme alone,God had stepped out from behind themist and answered the good sergeant’s question,“HowclosecoulddangercomebeforeGodcouldnolongerprotectme?”IfeltasthoughGod,inperson,wasstanding therebesideme,next tomeonmyright,smiling, laughing,confidentlychidingme,“SillyCharlie.YouthoughtIneededthreequartersofamile.Ha,ha,ha…See-Idon’tevenneedthreequartersofaninch.”Catchingmybreathatlast,Isteppedbackawayfromtheopenlaneintherestarea,mymindgrappling

withthetruththatGodhadjustshownme.Myconcentrationwasbrokenbythesoundofmytruckengineroaringtolife.Markhadobviouslycompletedtherepairsandwastestingtheengine.Ihurriedovertothe

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truckdoorandbegan thankinghimandBryanprofusely.NeitherMarknorBryan,however,would takeanypraise.Mark, jumping from the truck, shoutedover the roar of the engine, “Thebestwayyou canthankme,Charlie,isifyoucangetthistruckunloadedandbacktothemotorpoolby7:00a.m.tomorrowmorning.The sergeantwho runs theMojaveWellsAirman’sClubneeds it toget supplies fromDesertCentertomorrow,likeyoudidtoday.We’llallbeputoutifyoukeephimwaiting.”Icouldhardlyrefuse.Lateasitwas,IpromisedMarkthatIwouldunloadthesuppliesatrangethree

tonight,andreturnthetrucktothemotorpoolbeforesunrise.Ihadjustbarelyfinishedspeakingwhenthesuddenmovementofthelightsdowninthevalleycaught

my eye.Now theyweremoving intently back across the distant dry lakebed. I climbed intomy truck,placed it in lowgear, andbeginpullingbackoutonto the freeway. I glancedover at thedistant lightsdowninthevalleyasIdidso.Thelightswereretreatingrapidlyacrossthevalleytowardsthenorthwest.Ithoughtnothingofitatthetime,butthelightswereretreatingbacktowardsthebuildingsatrangethreemanymilesinthedistance.MarkandBryanfollowedmeforafewmilestomakecertainthetruckwasrunningproperly.Thenthey

hitthegasandspedonpastme,headingbackintoMojaveWells.Iwasalreadyplentytiredanddrivingslowly. It had been a long day. I foundmyself wishing I could get a cup of coffee and a hamburgersomewhere.EverythinginMojaveWellswasclosedwhenIgotthere.Ihadtomakedowithseveralcansofcolaandafewbagsofcornchipsfromthevendingmachinesoutsidetheadministrationbuilding-notmuchinthewayofnutrition,butIneededsomething.Aftergivingthemattercarefulthought,Idecidedthatmybestbetwouldbe todeliver the suppliesout tomyweather shackat range threebefore turning in.ThenIcouldsleeptherestofthenightonthecomfortablefloorofmyweathershack,takethe4:30a.m.run,andreturnthebigtrucktothemotorpoolbeforebreakfast.Itseemedlikesuchagoodidea.ThefactthatIwouldbespendingtheentirenightaloneoutontheranges-outwherethesomanyobserversbeforeme,hadrefusedtoventureinbroaddaylight-nevercrossedmymind.AsIheadedthetruckoutintothedeserttowardsrangethree,theclockwasrunningtowards11:00p.m.

Iwasalreadyhavingtroublestayingawakeatthewheel.BythetimeIarrivedatrangethree,Iwasmuchtootiredtonoticeanything.Thedullwhitefluorescentlightscomingtowardsmefromamileorsodowntothesoutheast,thesecondsetwaitingoverbythemountainstothenortheast,thethirdsetconvergingonmefromthesagebrushacoupleofmilesoff tothenorthwest, thelightsnowshowingthemselvesdowntowards the southwestby the range threegate,didnothing toalarmme. Iparked thebig truckwith itsheadlightsshiningintothegeneratorshack.IleftthelightsonandtheenginerunningasIstumbledoutofthe truck and opened the door to the generator shack.Tired as Iwas, I flooded the generator’s dieselenginewith theetherstartingfluid. Icountedmyself luckywhen thediesel finallystarted,but it tookawhile. The pounding diesel didn’t help my concentration any. It took me an unusually long while tocomplete the electrical adjustments.Tired, now, and edgy, I stumbledbackout through the open shackdoor, towards the waiting truck. The truck’s headlights or something fluorescent white blinded mesuddenly as I came out through the door of the generator shack. Something seemed to touch memomentarily,onorinsidemyrighttemple.Igotabriefglimpseofsomethingchalkwhitebehindmeandonmyright.Themusclesinmystomachtightenedsuddenly.ItfeltlikeItookasharpblowdownlowinmyguts.Imissedastepinthedoorway.Istumbledandwentdownonthehardsharpgravel,fallingonmyhandsandonmyknees.Mymindfuzzedoverandstayedfuzzedoverforwhatseemedlikealongminuteor so. I found ithard to focusonmuchofanything.Several chalkwhitepeople seemed tobe standingaroundme,talkingtoeachotherinquietandwhisperedtones.Oneofthem,ayoungwoman,wassaying,“You must speak English. He is the weather observer. His name is Charlie Baker. He speaks onlyEnglish.”Another,ayoungman,wassaying,“He isvery tired.Youmust readjustyourelectronics.He

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willrememberthisforsure.Becarefulwhenyouarearoundhim.Ifhebecomesmoretired,noneofourelectronicswillhavetheslightesteffectonhim.”Whenmymindfinallycleared,Isworesome,blamedthewholeepisodeonbreathingtoomuchofthe

etherstartingfluid,andbrushedoffmyscrapes.Icarefullybegangettingbackup.InoticedthatIwasnotgettingupfromexactlythesameplacetowhichIhadpreviouslyfallen.Thatspotwasclearlymarkedbymyhandprints,andsomebloodstains.Thatspotwas3feetorsoofftomyleft.TheplaceIwasgettingupfromwasasofterplace.Ipausedforaminutetoconsidermysituation.Somethingseemedterriblyoutofplace.Iglancedatmywatch.Ithadstoppedforsomereason,eventhoughithadbeenrunningwhenIhadenteredthegeneratorshack.Iwasusedtotherangesandusedtobeingaloneinthenight.Iwasalsousedtotrustingmyfeelings.Somethingfeltterriblywrong.Ittookmytiredmindaminuteorsotofigureoutwhatitwas.Finallyitcametome.IbecamecertainthatIwasn’talone.Thereseemedtobesometall,whiteperson,hiddenbehindtheglareofmytruck’sheadlights.SlowlyIreturnedtomyfeet,andcarefullyretreateduntilmybackwasupagainstthewallofthegeneratorshack.“Isanyonethere?”Icalledloudlyoutintothedarkness.“Isthereanyoneoutthere?”Therewasnoanswer.Iwaitedafewminutes.Mymindcleared.Thefluorescenceseemedtoretreatsilentlyintothedesertto

thewest.BlindedbytheheadlightsasIwas,Icouldn’tgetagoodlookatit.IdecidedthatIwouldbebetteroffifIconcentratedmoreonmyworkandlessonworryingaboutthingsinthenight.SoIshruggedoffmyfears,anddecidedthatmymindmustjustbeplayingtricksonme.Icautiouslyreturnedtothesafetyofmytruckandplaceditingear.ThenIbeganslowlymaneuvering

the truckover thesoft roughgroundand through themesquitebehindmyweathershack.Themoonlightwas bright and the truck’s headlights cast unusual shadows through themesquite.Concentrating onmydriving,Ipaidnoattentiontothetwodullwhitefluorescentlights,previouslyhiddenbythemesquitethatwentspeedingofftowardsthesoutheast.Thetruckwasheavilyloadedwithheliumcylinders.It tookallofmyconcentrationandseveraltries

beforeIfinallygotthebigtruckthroughthethickmesquiteandbackeduptothereardoorofmyweathershack.ItwashardlyperfectbutwhenIhaditsittingata30degreeangletothebackdoor,Icalleditgood.Iwasalready too tired tostruggleanyfurtherwith theheavysteeringwheel.Afterkilling theengine, Ijumpedoutontothesoftdirt.WithapracticedhandIunlockedandopenedall threeofthedoorstomyweathershack,turnedonthelightandtheradio,andresetmywatch.ItapparentlyhadbeenstoppedfortwentyminuteswhileIwasinthegeneratorshack,oronthegroundoutside.ThenIslumpedintomychairtorestaminute,nursemywounds,andenjoythecooleveningbreezethatsweptgentlythroughtheopendoors. I triedcalling theDesertCenterweather station. It hadanobserverondutyaround theclock. Iwantedtorequestawakeupcallat3:30a.m.Thelinewasheavywithstatic,makingthephoneuseless.Isatforaminutewonderingwhy.Itwasabeautifulwarmsummernightwithanicemoon.Therewasnoobviousreasonforthephoneconnectionstobemessedup.Isatrestingforawhilelonger,listeningtotheradio.Themusicwassoftanddreamy,althoughittoo

had a great deal of static.Out back ofmy shack I could hear somethingmoving quietly in the night. Isupposedthatitwasprobablyjustsomesagebrushortumbleweedsblowinginthegentleeveningwinds.In thecenterofmydesk,rightout in theopen, laymyfavoritepencil-theonethathadbeenmissingforseveralweeks.Tiredandalreadysleepy,Igratefullypickeditupwithoutthinkingandreturnedit toitsnormalpositioninmydeskdrawer.Iwasjustclosingthedrawerwhenmymindstumbledacrosswhathadjusthappened,andIwasnumbedbackintoconsciousness.Thepencilcouldnotpossiblyhavelaininthatobviousopenpositioneverydayforthelastfewweeks.Ihad,afterall,searchedhighandlowforit.Gettingtomyfeetandsettlingmyselfdown,IdecidedIshouldforgetaboutthepencil’sreappearance,andgetthetruckunloadedasquicklyaspossible.IputontheheavyleatherworkgloveswhichIkeptinthe

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shack,removedmyfatiguecapandplaceditneatlyontopofmywindplottingtable.ThenIsetaboutthebusinessathand.It was obvious that unloading the big truck was going to be an extremely difficult task. Each steel

heliumtankwas5feet8inchestallandweighedmorethanIdid.Ibeganbyunloadingthelightstuff,theboxesofballoons,thebatteriesandlights,theblankweatherforms,andtheotherofficesupplies.Therewereatleastthreedozenboxes.Ittookagoodmanytripsbetweenthecabofmytruckandtheweathershacktogetitall.Ipiledthesuppliesonmydesk,onmywindplottingtable,onmyemptyshelves,andanywhereelseIhadroom.Withoutthinkingmuchaboutit,Inoticedthatmyfatiguecapwasnowmissing.Ishrugged,andsupposedthatithadprobablyfallensomewhereonthefloor.Ilookedhighandlowforit,buttonoavail.Icouldn’tfinditanywhere.Isuckedinadeepbreath,ateafewcornchips,andtookquickdrinkofcola.ThenIsetabouttheexhaustingtaskofunloadingthe12heliumcylinders.FirstIhadtosetupamakeshiftrampfromthehighbackplatformofthetruckdowntothesoftground.ThenIhadtosetupasecondmakeshiftrampfromthesoftgrounduptothebackdoorofmyshack.ForthisIhadseverallongthick8-inchwideplanks. I kept theseplanks storedover in the alleybetween the storage sheds.Theywereextremelyheavy.Ididn’trelishthethoughtofdraggingthemintoposition.Singingtomyself,withfeelingsoffatiguealreadylayingheavyonme,Iwentout thebackdoorofmyshack,andtrudgedoveracross thesoftsandydirt to thatalleyway.Themoonwasbright,soIdidn’t thinkmuchabout thesoftwhite fluorescent light thatwas glistening frombetween the buildings. Iwaswatching the ground as Iwalked, so Iwas unprepared for the sight that confrontedme as I rounded the corner of the building.Standingthereabout20feetaway,lookingdirectlyatme,wasasolidwhitehumanlikewoman.Shehadsolidchalkwhiteskin,largeblueeyes,andblondehair.Shehadaflatnon-protrudingnoseandsimilarflatears.Shewaswearingapleasantexpressiononherface.Shewasmyheight,5'11”Shehadaboyishfigureandshewasmuchthinnerthanmosthumanwomen.Oneachhand,shehadonlyfourfingers.Theglovessheworesuggestedthatshehad2-inchlongclaws.Shewaswearinganaluminizedcanvaschalkwhite jumpsuitwithanopen,white,motorcycle-likehelmet.Thesuitandthehelmetemittedafieldofsoftwhitefluorescentlightthatwasperhaps3inchesdeep.Thelightwasn’tparticularlybright,butithurtmyeyestolookintoit.Threeorfourfeetinfrontofher,wasalittlegirlwhoappearedtobeherdaughter.Herdaughter’seyeswere larger inproportion toher face thanhermother’s.Herdaughteralsoworeasolidwhitesuitandhelmet.Thelittlegirlwasfloatingsome3or4feetabovetheground,andremainedstationarywatchingme.Ihadobviouslysurprisedthetwoofthem.However,tiredasIwas,Ididnotconcludethattheywere

actuallyreal.WiththelittlegirlfloatingdirectlyabovetheheavyplankswhichIhadcomefor,itwasaneasymatterformetodecidethatmymindwasplayingtricksonme.Forthatreason,Iwasnotactuallyafraid.IdecidedthatImustbejustexperiencingtheeffectsofthefatiguewhichwasrapidlyovertakingme-andmaybe the lackofgoodnutritioncausedbymydietofcolaandcornchips. I stoodmotionlessmyself,watchingthetwoofthemastheystoodthere.Iwaswaitingformybraintoreturntonormal.Iwasexpectingthetwoofthemtovanishbeforemyeyesthewayaghostmighthave.Afteralongtwoorthreeminutespassed,thelittlegirlfloatedovertotheothersideofhermotheranddrifteddownuntilshewasstandingonthesoftground.Then,apparentlyonasilentcommandfromhermother,thelittlegirlsteppedsilentlyandquicklyaway fromme,down thealley, anddisappeared fromviewaround the sideof thebuildingtotheleft-towardsthegeneratorshack.Thenhermother,stillwearingherpleasantexpression,steppedquicklysideways,awayfromme.Shealsodisappearedaroundthesideofthebuildingtotheleft.Astheydidso,Istoodtherecalmlythinkingtomyself,“Sothisiswhatinsanityislike.Iseewhattheymean,it’squitepainless.”After the two of them had disappeared around behind the buildings, I stood motionless for a few

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minutes,believingIwaslettingmybrainreturntonormal.Iwatchedthewhitefluorescentlightproceedaroundbehindthegeneratorshack,anddecidedthatmybodymustbeverylowonvitamins.Iresolvedthat in the future Iwouldgetmoresleep, takehighpotencyvitaminpills,andeatmorenutritious food.Then,supposingmybrainhadreturnedtonormal,IdecidedtocontinueonwithmyworkAfterall,Isaidtomyself,isn’thardworkthebesttherapyforproblemslikemine?Theplankswereextremelyheavy,andhad tobe liftedcarefullyanddragged intoposition. Iwalked

downtothefarendofthealleytorollthefirstoneofftheothers.AsIbentdowntograbontoit,Inoticedthatboththemotherandthedaughterhadleftalargenumberofbootprintsinthesoftdirt.IshruggedoffwhatI’dseen.Ineededtogetbacktowork.Igrabbedontotheheavyplank.ItwaswithgreatdifficultythatIdraggeditbacktomytruckandfinallypositionedittoformarampupintothebackofmytruck.Itookadeepbreath,atesomemorecornchips,tookadrinkofcola,andcontinuedonwiththebrutalworkathand.AsIwaspositioningthethirdplank,Inoticedthelittlegirlfloatoutfrombehindthegeneratorshack.Shewas3or4feetofftheground.Shefloatedtherefor2or3minuteswatchingme.Hermothersteppedoutfrombehindthegeneratorshackandobviouslycommunicatedwithher insilence.Thenthetwoof thembothreturnedbehindthegeneratorshack.This time,Igotamuchbetter lookat the twoofthem.Inotedhowcompletelyrealtheyappeared.Still,Iwasn’tafraid.IhadconvincedmyselfthatIwassufferingfromtheeffectsofpoornutritionandextremefatigue.Iconsideredthemtobehallucinations.Withmyrampsnowinplace,Isatrestingononeofthemforafewminutes.Inoticedsomemorewhite

fluorescentpatchesdownby themesquite to the southeast, andoverby themountains, andoverby theammunitionbunker to the east. I took another sip of cola, putmyworkgloves backon, andbegan thebrutaltaskofunloadingtheheliumcylinders.Cylinders1and2weren’ttoobad.Istillhadafewreservesofenergy,andIwasn’tshakingtoomuch

fromfatigue.Iwalkeduptherampontotheplatformofthetruck,andgrabbedeachoneinturn.Icarefullywalkedthemdownthetruckrampanduptheotherrampintomyweathershack.Cylinder3,however,wasaneardisaster.Comingdowntheramp,Islippedandscrappedmylegontheplank-nearlydroppingthecylinderintheprocess.SwearingandlimpingIfinallygot theheavycylinderupthenextrampintomyweathershack.Ittookalongtimetogetitsafelystowedinitsplaceinthecorner.ThenIsatdownandnursedmywounds.My left knee, especially,was inbad shape. I alwayskept a first aidkit and somerubbing alcohol in my shack. This night, they servedme well. Then, munching somemore chips andsippinganothercola,Ireturnedtomywork.Forcylinders4,5,and6,Itriedanewapproach.Icarefullylaidthemdownonthebedofthetruck,

withtheirbottomspointingtowardsthebackof thetruck.Icarefullyslid themuntil theirbottomswereevenwiththeendofthetruckbed.ThenIgotdownfromthetruckand,standingontheground,Islidthem,onebyone,downtheramp.Itwasbrutaltiringwork,butatleastIdidn’thavetolimpupanddowntheramp.Ihadjustfinishedloweringcylinder#6totheground.Ihadjustleaneditagainstthebackofthetruck, and steppedback to rest.As I turnedaround,back towards theopen reardoorofmyshack,myview passed though the open rear door, on out through the open front door, and out towards the opensquare beyond. Standing there, bent over at the waist watching me, was another solid chalk whitecreature. He appeared to be the male version of the young woman which I had previously surprisedstandinginthealley.Hewasabout60feetaway.Webothstoodfrozenforaminuteortwo,watchingeachother.Iwasn’tafraid.Eventhoughheappearedtobeperfectlyreal,Isupposedthathewasjustanotherhallucinationcausedbymyfatigue.Hewasaboutmyheight,butverythin.Heprobablydidn’tweighmorethan 110 pounds. Like the woman, he had chalk white skin. He was wearing an aluminum canvassappearing jumpsuit thatgaveoff a softwhite fluorescent light.Hehadblueeyes that stretched furtheraroundthesideofhisheadthananyhuman’sandalsostretchedfurtheraroundthesideofhisheadthen

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didthewoman’s.Suddenly,heseemedtorealizethatIwaswatchinghim,andhequicklysteppedbackfromtheopendoorwayandoutofmylineofsight.Istoodsomewhatconfusedforaminuteorso.Iwantedtobelievehewasjustanotherhallucination,but

helookedsoreal.ThenIdecidedthatmaybehewasoneofmyrangeratfriendsplayingtricksonme-afriendwhomightbeable tohelpmeunload the truck.Singinga little then,soasnot tosurprisehim, Ibeganwalkingslowlyaroundtheeastsideofmyweathershack.AsIpassedtheopensidedoorofmyshack,Inoticedmymissingfatiguecapsittinginplainviewonthefloorinthemiddleofmyshack.Itsatupright,asthoughintentionallyplacedthere.It’sappearancecausedmetofeelacertainamountofalarm.Ihadlookedhighandlowforitonlyashorttimebefore.Iestimatedthatithadtohavebeenplacedtheresometimewithin the last tenminutes,maybeevenwithin the last fiveminutes, andhallucinationsdon’tmovecapsaround.Ireachedin,pickedupmycapfromthefloor,andplaceditcarefullyinanopenareaonanearbyshelf.ThenIcontinuedwalkingslowlyandcarefullyonmyjourneyaroundmyweathershack,singingatmoderatevolumeasIdidso.Reachingtheopenareainfrontofmyshack,Icontinuedon,stillsinging,walkingdiagonally towardsmytheodoliteand towards therange three lounge.Thewhitemalecreaturehad,inthemeantime,retreatedbehindtheloungebuilding.IwasabouthalfwayacrosstheopensquarewhenIpausedtoconsiderthesituation.Softwhitefluorescentlightcouldbeseenglisteningfrombehindthelounge,andalsofrombehindthegeneratorshackandthenearbystoragesheds.IrememberedthestoriesthatI’dheardaboutRangeFourHarry.Iwonderedifhereallywasahermitwhomadealivingbyprospectingforgold.Hemightbetheonecausingthelighttoshinefrombehindtherangethreelounge-andgoldprospectorsarenotnecessaryfriendly.Myheadandall themusclesinmybodywerealreadyachingfromfatigue.Itwasbecomingdifficultformetoreasonthingsthrough.Ihadnowaytogetofftherangesuntilmytruckwasunloaded.Ihadnoplacetorunto,noplacetohide.Thisdefinitelywasn’tthetimetochallengewhoeverwashidingbehindthelounge.Still,Ineededhelptofinishunloadingthetruck.Istoodforafewminutesthinkingthingsover.ThenIshoutedloudlyoutintothedarkness,“Hellointhelounge.”Therewasnoanswer.Icontinued,shoutingloudly,“Whoeverisoverthere,Icouldusealittlehelpoverhereattheweathershack.”Still,therewasnoanswer.Icontinued,“I’minthemiddleofthisbrutaljobofunloadingtheseheliumcylinders.Ihave6moreofthethingstounload.ItsurewouldbeniceifIhadanothermanortwotohelpme.”Still,therewasnothingbutsilence.“Idon’thaveanymoneytopayyouwith,butI’doweyouabigfavor.Ihavesomecolaandsomecornchipswecouldshare.Maybesometimeyou’dneed somehelpwhenyou areout here and then I’dbehere to return the favor.”Stillsilence.“Lookit’sabigdesertouthereanditonlymakessenseforusmentocooperate.”Stillsilence.“Nowifyoudon’twant tohelpmedothebrutalheavylaborIunderstand-but it’dbeabighelpifyoucould justkeepmecompanywhileIwork.At leastyou’dbe there tocalmmedownsoIdon’tget tooover-worked and totally collapse or something.” For a fewminutes, fromover behind the range threelounge, I could hear quiet sounds that reminded me of a horse laughing. Then from over behind thegeneratorshackIcouldhearsoftmuffledsounds that remindedmeofahappydogbarking.Annoyed, Ishoutedback,“Fine!Justfine!Ifallyouwanttodoislaughatme,thenjustfine!Well,I’lljustshowyou.Themenofmyfamily-we’reonetoughbunchofguys.Nowayhaveweevergivenupeasy.Welearnedatayoungagehowtoworkuntilwedropped.I’llunloadthatwholebigtruckallbymyself,andthenIwon’toweyouany favors.You’ll see. Iwon’toweyouanything-nota thing!Then,whenyouneedhelp,youwon’tbeabletoproudlyaskmetoreturnthefavor,likeyoucouldhaveifyou’dhelpedmetonightwhenIneedit.No!Thenyou’llhavetopaymebigtime!Remember,whenthatdaycomes,youcouldhavehelpedmetonight-youcouldhavehelpedmetonightforfree!”Thedistantwindscarriedmoresofthorselaughterandmuffledhappydogbarkinguntilafterseveralminutes,atlast,theemptystillnessofthebeautifulmoonlightnightreturned.

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Disappointed that no help was coming, I turned slowly back towards my weather shack. I wasconcernedfor thesafetyof the lastheliumcylinder that Ihadunloaded-cylinder#6. Isteppednaturallysidewaystowardstheeast,untilIwasabletolookthroughthedistantfrontdoorofmyweathershack,onthroughthebrightlylitinterior,onoutthroughthebackdoorwherecylinder#6stoodleaningupagainstthebackofmy truck.Thebrightly lit interior ofmyweather shackmade it impossible to see anythingwhatever in thedarknessout through thedistantbackdoor. I found this tobequite alarmingbecause Iknewmyeyesightwasexcellent.Iwasstandingwherethewhitecreaturehadbeenstandingwhenhehadbeenwatchingme.Yet,theglareofthelightsinsidemyweathershackpreventedmefromseeinganythingwhateveroutthroughitsbackdoor.Theconclusionwasinescapable.Ifthewhitecreaturewerereal,hehad better eyesight than any human. This conclusion made me feel a certain nervousness. Under thecircumstances,IdecidedthatIshouldgetbacktoworkimmediately,andgetmytruckbackintodrivingconditionassoonaspossible.Ithereforeputasideallthoughtsofanythingelse,focusedonmyneedtogetmytruckemptied,andbeganhurryingbackacrosstheopensquaretowardsmyweathershack.Reachingit,Imunchedahandfulofcornchips,tookanotherquicksipofcola,andproceededwithmywork.Movingcylinder#6overthesoftgroundwasajobsobrutalthatI’mcertainI’llrememberitfortherest

ofmy life.Finally, after a horrible ordeal, and rippingopen somemoreof theblisters formingon thepalmsofmyhands,andfurtherbruisingmyleftknee,Igotcylinder#6uptherampandintomyweathershack.Icaughtmybreath,sworesome,nursedmywounds,andwentbackforcylinders#7,#8,and#9.Chantingandsingingtomyselftohelpgetoxygenintomylungs,Iclimbedtherampuptothebackofthetruck.CarefullyIlaidthenextthreecylindersdownonthebedofthetruckasbefore,andslidthembacktowardsthemakeshiftramp.Ihadjustfinishedslidingcylinder#8sothatitlaywithitsbottomevenwiththebackplatformofthebigtruck,whenmytelephonebeganringing.Consideringthatitwasnearly2:30a.m.,Iwassurprisedtosaytheleast.CautiouslyIgotdownfromthebackof thebigtruck,enteredmyshack,andslowlyapproachedthephone.Afterithadrungperhaps20or25times,Icarefullypickedupthereceiverandanswered,“Rangethreeweathershack,CharlieBakerhere.”Thevoiceon theother endwasmaster sergeantWalters.Thephonehadagooddealof static, but I

couldhearhim reasonablywell. “Charlie,”hebegan, showingobvious surprise. “Youareactuallyoutthereworkingliketheysaid.Youareonebravededicatedsoldier.”Takenabackbyhispraise,Istumbledforwords,“Thankyou,sergeant.It’s2:30a.m.I’msurprisedthat

youareupatthishour.I’muponlybecauseIhavetofinishunloadingmysupplies.Ineedtogetthistwoand a half ton truck back into theMojaveWellsmotor pool before breakfast.What has youup at thishour?”“TheDesertCenterbasecommander,”repliedthesergeant.“Hepersonallyphonedmeathomeherea

fewminutesago.Hegotmeupoutofasoundsleep.Hewantedmetomakecertainthateverythingwasallrightwithyou.Hewantedtoknowifyouneededanyhelpwiththetruckoranything.”“Everythinguphereisfine,sergeant,”Iresponded.“Don’tgetmewrong.I’mtired.Icoulduseanother

mantohelpmeunloadtheselastsixheliumcylinders.That’sjust lifeinthemilitary.Reallysergeant,Ihaveeverythingundercontrol.I’llhavemytruckunloadedinanotherhourorso.Itwon’tkeepmefrommakingthe4:30runasscheduled.ThenI’ll lockup,returnthebigtrucktothemotorpool,hopovertobreakfastinmypickup,andberightbackonmynormalschedule.”“Well, the base commander hadmore praise for you and your bravery than I ever thought possible,

Charlie,”continuedthesergeant.“Heisalsoworriedforyoursafety.”“Howso?”Iasked.Thenlaughing,Icontinued,“Imean,theserangesareMINE,sergeant.Iknowevery

rockandeverypieceofsagebrushouthere,even in totaldarkness. I’mevengetting toknowthewhitethingsthatIsee,byname.There’snothingouthereIcan’thandleallbymyself,sergeant.Godhelpme.I

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love this place somuch!”Then I laughed somemore. “Tell thegeneral he cangoback to sleep. I goteverythingcovered.”“You sure are the bravest soldier either the general, themajor ormyself have ever seen, Charlie,”

answered the sergeant soberly. “We’re all glad that you still have your sense of humor.However, thegeneralhadsomeworries,somewishes,andsomeconcernsthathewantedmetopersonallyconveytoyou.”“Whatpossibleconcernscouldthegeneralhaveat thishour?Hemustbeanawfullylightsleeper,”I

repliedrespectfully.“Well,firstthegeneralwantsyoutoknowthathehasphonedMarkinhisbarracks,andorderedhimto

giveyouthehighestpriorityontheuseofanyofthevehiclesinthemotorpool.Thatincludesthetwoandahalftontruckthatyouaredriving.So,takeallofthetimeyouneedtounloadthetruck,evenifyoudon’tget itunloadedbymorning.Theorderappliesonly toyou,not tomeor themajor,oranyairmanwhomightreplaceyou.“Thegeneral alsopersonallyphonedBryan, the air policeman, andorderedhim to convey the same

orderstothesergeantwhorunstheairman’sclubthereattheWells.“Next, thegeneralhasorderedallof therangescloseduptighter thanadrumtomorrow.Noonecan

comeout tohelpyou,sotakeyourtime.Restwheneveryouneedto.Thegeneralhasalsocanceledallballoonrunsfortomorrow.Hehasleftittotallyuptoyouwhichonesyoutakeandwhichonesyouskip.IfIwereyou,Charlie,I’dskipthemallandspendthedayrestinginthebarracks.”“Butsergeant,”Islowlystuttered,“Idon’tunderstand.Takingthewindmeasurementsisaneasyjob.It

won’tbeanyproblemformetotakealloftomorrow’srunsasscheduled.”“Iknow,Charlie,”repliedthesergeantsoberly.“Butyou’reonehardworkingdedicatedsoldier.The

general, themajor,andmyselfareall inagreement.Wedon’twant toworkagoodhorse todeath.Thegeneralwantsmetoreassurehimthatyou’llgetpropermedicalattentionforallofthosescrapes,bruises,andblistersonyourlegs,andonyourhandsandknees.Theymustbehurtingyouprettybad.Youknowtheonesyougotwhenyoufellcomingoutofthegeneratorshack.”“Thegeneralknowsaboutthattoo?”Iexclaimedinsurprise.“Whocouldhavetoldhimaboutthat?I’m

theonlyoneouthere!”“Well,asIunderstandit,Charlie,thePentagondid.Iguesssomeoneuptherereportedseeinglightsor

yourlightsorsomethingoutinthedesertatrangethreeandreportedittothePentagon.They’retheoneswhowokehimuptonight.Whatevertheydid,thegeneralmadeitclear,Iamorderednottoaskyouanyquestions about anything. I am only to verify that you are personally healthy and safe,” responded thesergeant.I was speechless. Then the sergeant paused for a moment, thinking carefully about his next words,

beforecontinuing.“Thegeneralalsohadsomethingunusualtorequestofyou.”“WhatSergeant?”Iresponded.“Heexpressedhiswishesthatyouwouldn’tgochasingafteranyghostsorwhitebutterflieswhileyou

areouttheretonight?Hesaidthathedoesn’thavetheauthoritytoorderyoutostayinclosetotheweathershack, or to close your weather shack immediately and drive back into base. However, in a veryemotionalmannerheexpressedhiswishesthatfortherestoftonight,youwouldn’tgooverbytherangethreelounge.Hespecificallyaskedthatyounotgofurtherinthatdirectionthanthetheodolitestand.Hesaysthatyouarefreetogooverthereifyouchooseto,buthehopesyouwon’t.Hehopesthatyouwillrespecthiswishes.”“What?”Iaskedin totaldisbelief.“Sergeant,I’mtotallyaloneouthere.I’m22milesouthere in the

desert. It’s just past 2:30 a.m. Imean no disrespect, sergeant, but there’s something about this whole

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eveningthatdoesn’tseemtobemakinganysense.Imissedeveningchow.I’mhungryasthedevil.I’vebeeneatingjunkfood,andI’mlowonvitamins.I’msotiredthatImustbegoingnuts.SometimesIthinkI’m seeing ghosts or somebody white around every corner. I can’t go over to the range three loungebecauseI’mphysically too tired towalk that far.NowI’mtold that thePentagonwokeup the twostarDesert Center base commanding general just so he could ask you to askme, pretty please, not to gowalkingaroundanycornersoverbytherangethreelounge.Ifhewantsmetostayawayfromtherangethreeloungeallhe’sgottodoisordermenottogooverthere.Andanotherthing!HowdoesthegeneralevenknowthatItrippedcomingoutofthegeneratorshack?Thereweren’tevennighthawksoutheretoseeme.”TheSergeantpaused foraminuteor so, thinking things through.Thenhecontinuedsoberly, “I agree

withyou,Charlie,butenlistedmenlikeushavetolearntotrustourofficers.ThegeneralmadeitperfectlyclearthatIwastodeliverhismessageswithnoquestionsasked.HemadeitclearthatIcouldlistenifyoufeltyouneededsomeonetotalkto,buthespecificallyorderedmenottoaskyouanyquestionsaboutwhatit’s likeout thereon the ranges tonight-orever.Hewasvery insistentwhenhewas talking tome.ThefinestdoctorsintheAirForceexaminedyou.Toaman,generalsandbirdcolonelsalike,theyallswearthatyou’reinperfectphysicalandmentalcondition.Youarethemantheywantforthisduty.Thegeneralvery specifically ordered both the major and I, to totally disregard any suggestion that you werehallucinating,orsufferingfromanykindofmedicalcondition.Thegeneralwasveryexplicit.IfthemajororIweretosendanyotherobserveruptheretoreplaceyou,hewouldimmediatelycourtmartialthebothofus.Youhavetohandletheranges,Charlie,andyouhavetohandlethemalone.Youcanhandlethemanywayyouwant to.Whatever is over there by the range three lounge, or out there in the desert tonight-whateveritis-youhavetohandleit-totallyalone.”“Yes, sergeant,” I answered, tiredand respectful. “Tell thegeneralnot toworry. I’vegot everything

undercontrol,andtellhimthanksforcaringaboutmysafety.”WiththatIhungupandturnedmyattentionbacktothedifficulttaskofunloadingthelastsixheliumcylinders.Pullingcylinder#7offthebackofthetruckwasashockinglybrutaloperation.Thecylindercamedown

faster than Iwas expecting. It banged sideways against the back of the truck,momentarily pinningmybruisedleftkneeagainstthehardsteelbumper.Itcametorestjustnarrowlymissingmyleftfoot.IsworeagreatdealasIwalkedoffthepain.ThenImanhandledthecylinderupthesecondrampintomyweathershack.Ilimpedbackforcylinder#8.AsIworkedwithcylinder#8, Iscreamedandshoutedobscenities inanger, tryingdesperately toget

moreoxygenintomylungs.Ifinallygotthecylinderslidoffthebackofthetruck.Then,inanearfitofrage,andhurryingwhilemyadrenalinewasstillflowing,Ibrutallydraggeditupthesecondrampintothebackofmyweathershack. Insimilar fashion, I forcedcylinder#9fromwhere itstoodonmytruck, towhere I left it in the back ofmyweather shack. Ignoringmy cuts,my bruises, andmymany blisters,screaminginrage,andshaking,andswearingattheAirForceandmylotinlife,Ihalfranuptheplankintothebackofthetruck,grabbedcylinder#10.Blindedbythedirtandsweatdrippingoffmyfaceandbrow,andbeyondsanity,IscreamedandyelledlikearaginganimalasIbanged#10downonthebedofthetruckandshovedittothebackedgeofthetruckbed.Shakingalmostuncontrollably,Ijumpeddowntothegroundandjerked#10offthebackofthetruck,guidingitasitfelltotheground.Iletitrestupagainstthe back of the truck bed. Fatigue and nausea finally overtookme. I stepped back frommywork, andsteppedbackwardsacrossthecablefencethatseparatedmyweatherareafromtheskipbombingrangetotheeast.Usingoneofthewoodenpoststosteadymyhysterical,shakingbody,Ibentoveratthewaistandbeganvomitingmygutsoutintothesagebrush,intotherocks,intothegravel,andintothesoftdirt.AsIwasdoingso,outofthecornerofmyeyeIcaughtaglimpseofsomethingwhiterunningalongthesideof

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myweathershack,backouttowardstheopenareawheremytheodolitestood.Iwasfartoonauseousatthetimetocarewhatitwas.Aftermanylongminutesofvomiting,andswearing,andsuckinginthefreshnightairIwasfinallyable

to straighten up some.Down to the southeast, perhaps a quartermile distant, threemore of thewhitefluorescentlightscouldbeseendeployedinaskirmishline,approachingmeslowly.WhenIfinallygotmyvomitingcontrolled,stillshaking,Isteppedbackacrossthecablefence,andsteadiedmyselfagainstthewoodenpost,myheadpounding,gaspingforbreathin thefreshnightair,andswearingtoconvincemyselfthatIwasstillalive.Aftermanylongminutes,Istartedfeelingalittlebetter.Ilimpedmywaybackintomyweatherstation

andcollapsedintomychair.AfterafewmoreminutesIcarefullysippedsomewaterandwashedthedirtandsweatoutofmymouth.IpickedupmyphonetocallDesertCenterforhelp,butitwasuselesswithstatic.Myradiowaslittlebetter.Outinfrontofmyweathershack,justoutofsightaroundthecornerofmyfrontdoorIcouldhearsomeonewalkingcarefullyonthegravel.Iwasfartooexhaustedtobeafraid,butitrousedmetoaction.“Isanyonethere?”Icalledoutloudly.“Stayback.I’mverysick.Myeyesareblinded from the dirt and frommy sweat. I frighten easily and I need to rest,” I called out loudly. Itsoundedlikethepersonoutsideretreatedbackbetweenthebuildingsashortdistance.StandingupslowlyandmakingalotofnoiseasIdidso,Icarefullyclosedthesidedoortomyshack.Withmyeyesclosed,andsigningloudlyasIdidso,Igingerlyreachedoutandgotholdofthefrontdoorandswungitclosed.Feelingsafernow,Isatbackdowninmychair,putmyarmsandheaddownonmydesk,closedmyeyes,andbeganresting.Iwastooexhaustedtomove.Iignoredthesoundsofseveralpeoplewalkingquietlyonthegraveloutside.Afteralongtime,Istartedfeelingalittlebetter.Iknewtherewasonlyonewayofftheranges.Thatwaywasformetofinishunloadingthetruck.SlowlyIrousedmyself.Icalledoutloudlyandmadenumerousloudsounds.Iwascarefultogivewhoeverwasoutside,allofthetimetheyneededtogoaway.Icarefullytookanotherdrinkofcola,munchedafewmorecornchips,andwashedthemdownwithsomeclearwater.Stilltired,stumbling,andtalkingloudlytomyself,Icarefullywentoutthebackdoor,andbeganthebrutal taskofgettingcylinder#10intomyweathershack.Iwassorefromthe topofmyheadallthewaydowntomyverytoes.Everymuscleinmybodyached.Ittookalongtime,butIfinallyhadinchedcylinder#10intothebackofmyweathershack.Iwenttogetcylinder#11,dreamingofhowniceitwouldbetogetbacktomybarracks,andintobed.IwassoexhaustedthatIwasn’tsureIcouldmakeitupontothebackofmytruck.Istoodthereforalongtime,tryingtodecidewhattodonext.Iwasso tired that I nearlywent to sleep standing up.Off to the southeast, about a half ofmile distant, theskirmishlineofthreewhitelightsremainedonstation.Withextremedifficulty,Ifinallymadeitupintothebackofmytruck.Oncethere,Irestedforseveral

minutes,breathingdeeply.ThenIgrabbedcylinder#11andbegantheprocessoflayingitdownonitssideonthebedofthetruck.Iwasfartootiredtodososafely.Halfwaydown,Ilostcontrolofthecylinderanditslammeddownontothewoodentruckbed,bouncingsomeasitdidso.Ittoreopensomemoreoftheblisters on my hands as it fell. I screamed in agony for a while. After many minutes of cursing andswearingandshakingmyhand,Ifinallygotholdofmyself.Usingmyfeet,Islidcylinder#11intopositionwithitsbottomevenwiththebackofthetruck.ThenIcarefullytriedtogetdownfromthetruck.Tootiredtoholdmyownweight, Islippedpartwaydownandfell into therocksand thedirtand thesagebrushbelow,openingmorecutsonmyhandsandknees.Bruised,screaminginagony,Ifinallygottomyfeet.Myfatigueswere torn.Mykneeswerescraped,andmyrighthandespecially,wasbleeding fromcuts.Wrappingmy cut right handwithmyhandkerchief, and screaming in rage, and in agony, I grabbed thebottomof cylinder #11 anddragged it off the truck, guiding the cylinder as it fell upright into the softdesert dirt.Then leaning it against thebackof the truck, once again I stepped to the side andvomited

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whateverlittlewasleftinmystomachintothedesertacrossthecablefence.Everycellinmybodywasscreaminginpain.ItwasonlywithgreatdifficultythatIcouldstraightenup.Istoodthereformanylongminutesswearing,andcoughing,andshaking,andtryingtogetcontrolofmydryheaves.Setting down on a nearby wooden post at last, I decided that I had to get help with the last two

cylinders-atanyprice.Withmyphonenotworkingandmyradiouselesswithstatic,IdecidedthatIhadnochoicebuttohobbleovertotherangethreelounge,hopingthephoneoverthereworked.IdecidedIwouldaskanyoneIfoundoverthereforhelp.Ibeganslowlyhobblingandlimpingalongthecablefenceheadingtowardsthefront,northeastcornerofmyweathershack.Itwasaslowprocess.Istoppednexttoeachpost in turntosteadymyself. I finallyarrivedat thenortheastcornerofmyweathershack.ThenIproceededout intotheopenandstoppedbesidethenextwoodenpost.AsIstoppedtosteadymyself,Isawherstandingoutthereinthemoonlitdarkness.ItwasthechalkwhitewomanwhomIhadpreviouslysurprisedinthealleyway.Nowshewasstandingnaturallyontheground,infamiliarfashion,nexttothefrontdooroftheclosestsupplyshed.Shestoodbarely25feetaway,watchingmeinsilence.Herlittlegirlwas standing on the ground behind her.Both of themwerewearing happy expressions, obviouslyunafraidofme.Thepowertothesuitsthattheywerewearing,appearedtohavebeenturneddown,buttheirsuitsstillgaveoffasmallamountofsoftwhitefluorescentlight.WhenIfirstsawher,Iwasn’tstartledorafraid.AtthetimeIwasactuallydisappointedwithmyself.I

consideredher tobeafigmentofmyimagination.IwasdisappointedbecauseIbelievedthatmybrainhad begun to malfunction again. I steadied myself against the wooden post, and began studying hercarefully.Iwaswaitingformybodytorest,settledown,andreturntonormal-atwhichtimeIexpectedher to vanish into thin air. I stood there in silencewatching her for at least fifteenminutes,while sheremainedpleasantlystandingatherspot,intotalsilence,andwatchingmeback.Imarveledathowrealsheappeared.Iremembersayingoutloudtomyself,“Ineverknewthathallucinationscouldappeartobethatreal.YoulookasifIcouldjustreachoutandtouchyou.”Sheseemedtofinditamusing.Mybodywasstillshakingfromexhaustion.Ihadtoenduremoreattacksofthedryheaves.Afteroneof

these attacks, as Iwasbentover,my stomach in aching spasms, I noticeda small squareblockofdrywoodlyingontheground.Outofcuriositymorethananything,Ipickeditupwithmylefthand,and,afterstraightening up a little, I gently tossed it underhand over towards the young chalk white woman. Iexpectedthepieceofwoodtocontinueitsnormalpathonthroughthespacewhereshestood.Iexpectedtoprove tomyself thatshewasn’t real,but justa figmentofmyimagination.AsIwatched,shesmiledpleasantly,reachedoutsmoothlywithherrighthandandcaughttheblockofwoodinmidair.Thenshevisuallyinspecteditforaminuteorso,andusingagentleunderhandedmotion,tosseditbacktome.Iwastoostunnedtocatchit.Istoodtheretransfixedastheblockofwoodbouncedgentlyagainstmyleftchest,thenmyleftknee,andfell to thegroundatmyfeet. It tookafewminutesforme togetholdofmyself.“That’saprettygoodtrick.”Ifinallymutteredoutloud.“Canyoudothatwithyourlefthand?”Iasked.ThenIpickedupthesamesmallblockofwoodandgentlytosseditunderhandbacktowardstheyoungwoman.This time, still smilingpleasantly, she reachedoutwithher lefthandandcaught it inmidair.Then,appearingtobealmostlaughinginsilence,usingasmoothunderhandmotion,shegentlytosseditback tome.Onceagain, Iwasfar toostunned tocatch it…Itstruck therightsideofmychestandfellharmlesslytotheground.Thenervesinmyneckandstomachbegantighteninginfear.Anotherspasmofdryheavesandvomitingsetin.Steadyingmyselfagainstthewoodenpost,Iturnedtomyleft,towardsthesouth, and spent the next tenminutes or so bent over, and onmyknees in dry heaves.Every coughingspasmhurtsomuchmymindwouldfloodoverinspellsofdizzinessandpain.Sometimes,coughingandchoking,Iwouldmutter,“Youcan’tbereal.Youjustcan’tbereal.”Sheseemedtofinditveryamusing.Afteralongwhile,thespasmsslowlysubsided,andIwasabletogetholdofmyself.SlowlyIgotback

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onmy feet, bent over at thewaist, and steadiedmyself against thewoodenpost as I took stockofmydesperate situation.While I had been down onmy knees, the tallwhite youngwoman had closed thedistance.Nowshestoodinsilent,friendly,andfamiliarfashion,nexttotheoppositecornerofmyweathershack,barelyadozenfeetfromme.Theskirmishlinedowntothesoutheasthadclosedtoless than50feet.NowIcouldseethatitwasalineofthreesimilarchalkwhitecreatures-apparentlytwoyoungmenandanotheryoungwoman.Tothesouth,nexttomytruck,stoodanothertallwhiteyoungmalecarefullyinspectingheliumcylinder#11.Thesoftwhitefluorescentlightscomingfrombehindmyweathershackconvincedme that severalmore such creatureswere behind it, and out of sight. To the south, severalmilesinthedistance,Icouldseetwoothermuchtallerchalkwhitefluorescentpatchespostedinmilitaryfashion,downontherangeoneroadatitsjunctionswiththerangetwoandtherangethreeroads.Offtomy right, standingby theback southwest cornerof the range three lounge stood another such creature-apparentlyayounggirlabouttheageofaneighthgrader.Straightdownattheendofthecablefencetothenorth, some70 feetaway,another fully-grownyoungmalecreature stoodwatchingme intently.Behindme,offonasmallridgeinthedesert,lessthan50yardstothenortheast,Icouldseestillanotheroldermaleadultcreatureslowlyclosingonme.AssoonasIsawhim,myheartwentintomymouth,coldwithfear.Hewasolderandsternerthantherest.Hewasobviouslyheavilyarmed,obviouslyintentonclosingonme.HeappearedtobethesamecreatureIhadpreviouslyglimpsedmomentarilybeforefallingtomykneesonmywayoutofthegeneratorshack.Toosicktopanicorrun,Iturnedslowlytowardstheyoungwoman.Iwasbentoveratthetime,andholdingmysidesinagonyandexhaustion.‘Well,aren’tyouonebeautifulhallucination.” I saidpleasantly. “And I seeyouhave friends.Youknow, Ihaven’t ever seenanything with your kind of beauty before.” A large smile flashed across the young woman’s face. Icontinuedslowlyandpleasantly,tryingtogetholdofmyself,coughingandheavingasIspoke,“Youdon’tfrightenme.You’retheoneItrust.Youcouldhavekilledmebeforenow,ifyou’dwantedto.Anyway,themenofmy family,we’reone toughbunchofguys.Wedon’t everquit.Wehaven’t everbeenafraidofwomen.But that bigwhitemale coming up behindme, is another story.He scaresme. I can see he’sarmedtotheteethandtoughasnails.Hemustbeoneofyourgenerals.I’mnomatchforhim,andwhat’smore, I’msureheknows it.Hecan takemeanytimehe feels like it. I figure thathemustbe takinghisordersfromyoubecauseyou’retheonethat’scomeinclose.Youmustbeonebeautifulhigh-rankinglady.SoIfigureI’mbetteroffifIjustkeeptalkingtoonlyyou.Iwonderifyouwouldn’taskthatgeneralofyourstobackoffaways,backtowardsthatbunkerroadbehindhim.It’dmakemefeelalotbetter.Hecanstillkillmefromthere ifhe takesamind to.Thatwouldat leastgivemeachance tosettledownandcollectmythoughts,andtalktoyouforawhile.Yousee,younglady,themenofmyfamilyhavealwaysbeengoodwithwords.Youneverknow,Imightjustgetlucky.Ifyougivemethechancetotalkawhile,IjustmightsucceedintalkingmywayoutofthismessI’min.”Anotherbroadsmileflashedacross theyoungwoman’sface.Sheandtheothersappearedtospenda

few minutes laughing pleasantly, all in total silence. The well-armed adult male off to the northeastretreatedsuddenly,fallingbacktothedesertridgethatlayalongthebunkerroad,some200yardsdistant.Then thewhitemale standingbymy truckquickly retreatedoutof sightbehindmyweather shack.Theskirmishlineof threefellbackto thesoutheastperhapsaquarterofamile.Theyoungwomanglancedquicklyofftothenortheast,visiblycheckingthenewpositionofthetallwhitegeneral.Thenshereturnedtostudyingmeintentlyandsmiled,asiftosay,“Sure.Let’shearit?”I spent the next several minutes vomiting and waiting out some more coughing spasms.When they

finally subsided, I spent a fewmore minutes catching my breath. Then I continued slowly, coughing,stammering,andsometimespausing,waitingoutmoredryheaves.“Well, Ipromisedyouan interestingconversation, so I’llbeginwith some jokes.”For thenext3or4minutes, I reciteda seriesof3 short

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jokes that I hadmade upmyself. Theywere such bad jokes that I was shockedwhen the white ladycreaturestandinginfrontofmesuddenlybrokeoutinnearhystericallaughter,asdideveryotherwhitecreature Icouldsee.Even the two tallwhiteguardspositioned in thedistance,downon the rangeoneroad,appearedtobelaughingintensely.Inaddition,thesoundofseveralhumanslaughingcouldbeheardcomingfrombehindtherangethreelounge.Oneofthemwaslaughing,sayinginmuffledtones,“Colonel,he’stheoneweneed.”Andanotheronewassaying,“General,hesurehasguts!”A goodmanyminutes passed as the others laughed and I stoodwaiting. The entire range areawas

coveredwithhysterical,electric,uncontrollablelaughter.Boththechalkwhitewomanandherlittlegirlwerekneltdownwith theirbacksagainst the shed, laughinguntil theywere shakinganddizzy.Formypart, mymindwas now totally flooded over with confusion. I had expected the laughter tomakemyhallucinationsgoaway,buttheoppositeseemedtobehappening.Iwasnowextremelyconfused.Ididn’tthink any of my jokes were particularly funny, but my hallucinations found them to be hysterical. IwonderedhowitcouldbethatmyhallucinationscouldfindmyownmadeupjokestobefunnierthanIthoughtthemtobe.Afterall,they’rebothfigmentsofmyimagination—aren’tthey?Exhaustionbeganovertakingme,again,andanotherroundofuncontrollabledryheavessetin.SoonI

wasdownonmykneesonthesharpgravelandsagebrush,barelyabletokeepfromfallingtotallyflatonmyface.MyhallucinationsappearedtobelievethatIwaslaughingtoo.Ihadbeendownontherocksandgravelforaverylongtimewhenthelaughterfinallysubsided,andthe

gentlestillnessof thenighttimedesertairfinallyreturned.Ispentafewmoreminutessufferingthroughsomemorecoughingspasms.Whentheyfinallysubsided,Ispentafewmoreminutescatchingmybreath.Then I continued, slowly, coughing, stammering, and sometimespausing,waitingoutmore dryheaves,“I’mverysick,andI’mnotabletotellyouanymorestories.I’mtotallyexhausted.Ihavetorest,orI’lldie. Ihave togethelp. I can’tmovemy truckuntil I’veunloaded that lastheliumcylinder, andmovedthose last two cylinders to a safe place. I can’t get back intobaseuntil I canmovemy truck.”Then Ipaused somemore, fightingoff another coughing spasm. Iwaiteduntil thedizziness from the coughingpassed,thenIcontinued.“Myphoneintheweathershackisn’tworkingbecauseofallthestatic.Myradioisn’tanybetter.Ineedtogetovertothelounge.IcouldusethephoneovertheretophoneDesertCenterandaskforhelp.ThenIcouldsleeponthesofaoverthereuntilIwasrestedoruntilhelparrived.”The young woman stood in silence, pleasantly smiling at me, apparently listening to every word I

spoke.Irestedforaminuteorso,thinkingthroughmynextwordscarefully,andcollectingmynervesandmythoughts.Icontinued,“I’mtootiredtowalkacrossthisopenareainfrontofme.It’stoowide.Iintendtofollowalongthiscablefencetowardsthatyoungmanupattheend.Ineedthefencetosteadymyself.Pleasetellhimnottopanic.Ifigurehemustbearmed,andIdon’twanthimtofireonme.”Anotherhappysmileflashedacross theyoungwoman’sface.Theyoungmaleat theendof thecable

fencemadeafriendlygesture,andshowedmethepalmsofbothofhishands.Heobviouslywantedmetoseethathedidn’thaveanyweaponsaimedatmeatthetime.Breathingalittleeasier,Icontinued.“WhenIgetupclosetohim,aboutfouroffivepostsup,Iintendto

turntowardsthe lounge,andtry tomakeitacross thatopenareaupthere.It’snarrowerupthere,andImightbeabletomakeitwithoutfalling,ifI’mcareful.”Theyoungwomansmiledatme,andthenturnedhergazetowardsthenortheasterncornerofthelounge.Therewasobviouslysomethinguptherethatshewantedmetosee.Ifollowedherlead,andturnedmygazetothesameplace.Outfrombehindtherangethree lounge stepped another young adult white male creature, about my height. He stood in silence,lookingstraightatme.Then,frombehindthelounge,steppedanAmericanAirForcecolonel-hissilvereagles clearly visible in the faint moonlight. The colonel, stepped to the left and north of the whitecreatureandsaidinalowvoice,“I’llhandlethisHarry.”Thewhitemalethensteppedbackbehindthe

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rangethreelounge.Thecolonelremainedstanding,notactuallyfacingme,butratherfacingthesectionofthecablefencethatIhadsaidIintendedtowalkto.Assoonas thesightof theAmericancolonelsankintomyexhaustedbrain,awaveofreliefflooded

overme.Iconsideredhimtobeafigmentofmyimagination,liketheothers-afterall,Iwas22milesoutinthedesert.Hehadnoobviousmethodoftransportation,andIhadseenhimtalkingtoawhitecreature-buthewasanordinaryhuman.Thatconvincedme thatmybrainwas starting to return tonormal.As Istood there, feeling tremendous relief thatmyhallucinationswere at last starting to look like ordinaryhumans, the phone in my weather shack began ringing. Turning towards the young woman, I happilyexclaimed,“That’smyphone.Itmustbeworking,now.Ineedtoanswerit.IfI’mcareful,Imightevenlive through this.”Whilemy phone continued to ring, the youngwoman remained standing next to thenorthwestcornerofmyweather shack. I slowlyhobbledover to its frontdoor.With theyoungwomanstandingsmiling,lessthan6feetfromme,Icarefullystoodup,andopenedthefrontdoorofmyweathershack.Itopenedoutandtomyleft;awayfromthewheretheyoungwomanwasstanding.Turningmybackonher,Icarefullyclimbedintomyweathershack,climbedintomychair,andansweredthephone,“Rangethreeweathershack,Charlie.”Iwasgreetedbyanordinarydialtone,andvirtuallynostatic.Myradiowasnowplayingloudlyaswell.Italsohadnounusualstatic.Isatforafewminutesresting.Itooksomewater,openedthesidedoor,rinsedoutmymouth,andspitthewastewateroutintothedesert.Irestedinmychairsomemore,whileslowlysippingsomemorewater.According to the radio, itwasnow4.00a.m.Iwasfeelingtotallyexhausted,butnowIwasabletorelax.SoonIstartedfeelingnoticeablybetter.Outside, the colonel and the young chalk white woman remained on station, while the other whitecreatures slowly retreated from their exposedpositions, anddisappearedout of sight behind the rangethreebuildings.Withsomemusicnowtohelpme,andfeelingbetter, I formulatedaplanofaction.Tiredas Iwas, I

obviouslyneededtoconservemyenergy.IdecidedthatIwouldmovecylinder#11toastablepositionnext to the reardoor,upagainst theoutsideofmyweather shack.Thecylindershadaprotective thicksteelscrew-oncapthatprotectedthevalveassemblyfromthesun,thewind,andtherain.ItcouldsafelywaitoutsideforafewdaysuntilIcouldrestupandmoveitinside.ThenIwouldtakethe4:30balloonrun.Afterwards,Iwoulddecidewhattodoaboutcylinder#12.Ibeganbysteppingoutsidethroughmysidedoor,andhobblingaroundtothefrontofmyshacktoclosethefrontdoor-sinceitopenedout.Thechalk white young woman remained standing by the corner of my weather shack as before. Slowly Ihobbledtowardsher,untilIwasstandingdirectlyinfrontofher.ThenIcarefullyclosedthefrontdoor.Istill believed shewasahallucination.Lookingher in the eyes, I saidpleasantly, “You surehavebeenhelpfulforahallucination.”Where-upon she startledme. She replied in playful feminine fashion, laughing and speaking perfect

English, “RememberCharlie, next time you have to help us for free.You and themen of your familypromised.”Thensheappearedtoskipbackwardsseveralsteps,inplayfulfashion.Withherlittlegirlnexttoher,stilllaughing,theybothturnedthecornerintothealleywayanddisappearedfromsightbehindthebuildings. Iwasstartledandsurprised,but Iwasnotstunnedorafraid.Withallof thewhitecreaturesnowoutofsight,andonlythecolonelvisible-stillonstationbythecornerofthelounge-Iwasactuallyquitehappy.Ibelievedthatmybrainwasrapidlyrecoveringandthatwithabitmorerest,thingswouldsoonbe right back to normal. Singing and laughing,myself, I hobbled back aroundmyweather shack.Then taking a deep breath, and shouting to fillmy lungswith oxygen, I carefully inched cylinder #11across thesoftdirt towards thebackwallofmyweathershack.Thecylinderwasstill threefeetorsoaway,andstandinginaprecariouspositionwhenIhadtoquittorest.Itwasnow4:20a.m.Idecidedtotakethemorningballoonrunbeforecontinuing.Ihobbledbackinto

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myweather shack, filled a balloon, attached the tracking light, and began taking themorningweatherreport.Ireleasedmyballoon,pickedupmyclipboard,recordedthetime,andhobbledandlimpedouttomytheodolite.TiredasIwas,takingofftheheavyaluminumcoverwasquiteaproblem.ThreeminuteshadalreadypassedwhenIwasfinallyreadytotakethefirstreading.Thereadingsforminutefour,andfivewent asplanned.As Iwas taking the fifth reading, I heard the characteristic clangingof aheliumcylinder frombehindmyweathershack. IsworesomebecauseIsupposed thatcylinder#11hadfallenover.Therewas nothing to be done, but to continuewithmywindmeasurements.As Iwas taking thereadingforminutenumbereight,itwasobviousthatIhadlosttheballoonagainstoneofthestarfieldsintheMilkyWay.Thismeant that readingssixandsevenwerenogood.Swearingsome, I realized that Ineededat least twomoregoodreadings inorder tohaveausefulwindmeasurement.Withapracticedhand,then,Iwentsearchingformyballoonagainstthebrightstarfieldsthatconcealedit.Itwasintensework and I didn’t takemy eye off the eyepiece and look around as I usually did. I finally locatedmyballoonafterfourteenminuteshadpassed.Forthenextthreeminutes,Itrackeditcarefullyandrecordedthe readings. Satisfied that I finally had a decent set of wind measurements, I broke off the trackingprocessandputdowntheclipboard.Ibeganbreathingdeeply,andsuckingalltheoxygenIcouldintomylungs. Then I picked up the heavy aluminum cover and locked up the theodolite. I was watching theAmericancolonelasheremainedonstation,standingjustoutfromthenortheastcornerofthelounge.Asusual,hewasn’twatchingmedirectly.Rather,heremainedstanding in thedimmoonlight,perhaps100feetfromme,facingthemountainsofftotheeast,andjustlookingmywayonceinawhile.AsIwatched,anAmericanAirForcesergeant,wearingeightstripes,steppedquicklyoutfromthedarknessbehindtherange three lounge. He approached the colonel on his left side. I could hear the sergeant say to thecolonel, speaking in muffled tones, “We’re finished, sir. He sure is one brave tough soldier to haveunloaded11ofthose,outherealone,surroundedbyourwhitefriends.”Thenbothofthemsteppedquicklybackwards until they were out of sight behind the lounge-leaving me at last alone in the dimly litnighttime.Believingmyself to be back to normal-exhausted, but normal-I decided to hurrywithmy remaining

tasks, unload cylinder#12, and get back into base while I could. Taking a deep breath, I hurriedlyreplacedthealuminumcover,lockedmytheodolite,andhobbledbacktomyweathershack.Onceinside,Ihurried through my calculations as best I could, sipped some more cola, and phoned Desert Center.Sergeant Adams answered. The Desert Center base commander had asked him to come in early. Herecordedmyweatherreport,remindedmethattherangeswereclosed,toldmethatnomorewindreportswereneededfortherestoftheday,andsuggestedthatIheadimmediatelyintobasetogetbreakfastandrest.IwasjusthangingupthephonewhenInoticedthatthebackdoortomyweathershackwasclosed.I

wasshocked-whileIhadbeentakingtheballoonmeasurementssomeonehadclosedthedoor.Callingoutloudly, I gingerly stepped out through my side door. Singing loudly, I hobbled along the side of myweathershacktomytruckintheback.IwasstunnedbythesurpriseIfoundwhenIgotthere.WhileIhadbeentakingmywindreport,someonehadunloadedcylinder#12fromthebackofmytruck.Cylinder#11andcylinder#12nowstoodsecurely,side-by-side,directlyupagainstthebackofmyweathershack.Theheavywoodenplankshadbeentakendownandwerenowlayingneatlyside-by-sideinthedirtalongthebackofmyweathershack.The reardoor tomyweathershackhadbeenneatlyclosedand locked.Mytrucknowstoodreadytotakemeintobase.Exhausted, and nearly ready to drop, I didn’t have the faintest idea what to make of it all. After

overcoming my surprise, I took the truck keys from my pocket, climbed into the driver’s seat, andgratefullystarted theengine.Then,with themotor running, Imaneuvered thebig truckback through the

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mesquiteandaroundtothefrontofmyweathershack.Withtheengineidling,Iclimbedout,turnedofftheshacklights,andlockedupmyweathershack.ThenIpulledthebigtruckovertothegeneratorshack,gotout,andshutdownthediesel.Climbingbackintomywaitingtruckatlast,withtheearlysunriseturningtheskypinkintheeast,Igratefullyputthetruckintolowgearandbeganheadingbackintobase,leavingrangethreebehind.AsIwasleavingtherangethreearea,inthemirrorIcouldseethecolonelbrieflystepoutfrombehindtherangethreeloungeandwatchmeasthetruckheadedintobase.Ididn’tstoporslowdown.Iwasquitehappy.Ifelt that throughhardworkandconcentration,I’dwonavictory.I’dwon,avictoryoverhallucinations,avictoryoversicknessanddisease,avictoryoverthingsthatgobumpinthenight.IbelievedthatIhadtemporarilysurrenderedmysanityinordertostayalive.IbelievedthatIwasnowanexpertonhallucinationsandbaddreams,anexpertondesperatementaltrade-offs,anexpertonthefigmentsofone’simagination.IbelievedthatInowunderstoodcompletelythetricksthataman’smindplaysonhimwhenheisexhaustedandalone.Thestressofthateveninghadbeenextreme.“Ithadtohavebeen the stress”, I repeated tomyself. “Ihad tohavebeenhallucinating.Whatother explanationcouldtherebe?”AsIdroveback intobase, itwaswithgreatpride that Ipushed thememoryof thateveningcompletelyfrommymind.ItwaswithgreatpridethatIconvincedmyselfthattheentireeveninghadbeenjustasimpleboutofmentalexhaustion.Yes,Igotcontrolofmyconsciousnessandmyfears.Iconvincedmyselfthatmybrainwouldbeallhealedupandeverythingwouldberightbacktonormal,justassoonasIgotagoodmealandagoodnightssleep.AsIdrovebackintobase,young,innocent-amindtrainedtoforget-yes-ignorancewascertainlybliss.IbelievedthatIhadgiveneverythingIhad,justtostayalive.

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RiteofPassage...todayIfulfilledmyvows.SoIcameouttomeetyou;Ihavelookedforyouandhavefoundyou!.

...Proverbs7:14-15

InmanywaysMojaveWellswasanenlistedman’sparadise.Weekscouldgobywithout seeinganyofficersorsergeants.Yes, itwastruethatsomedaystheemptyrangeswerefilledwithfallrains,coldwinter nights, and loneliness. But other daysweremuch different. I waswell supplied, hadmidnightchow in thebarracks,a longcomfortablebus rideup to the farawayLasVegascasinosonweekends,inspectionswereunheardof,andIcouldgoanywhereIwanted to,anytimeIwanted to. IhadmyownpickuptruckandextraTDYpay.Somedays,itseemedasthoughfriendsinhighplacessurroundedme.ItwasawarmMondaymorningoutatrangethree.Thesunwasrapidlyheatingupthedesertfloor.Ihad

justfinishedthe9:30a.m.balloonrunandwaswalkingacrosstheopensquaretowardstherangethreelounge.Therangeswereinuse,andIwasexpectingtohavefunjoininginthepokergamewhichSteveandtherangeratshadgoinginthelounge.Ihadjustreachedthenortheastcorneroftheloungebuilding,andwasheadingtowardstheopenfrontdoorwhenthephoneinsiderang.Steveansweredauthoritatively,“Loungethree!You’reevenwithSteven.Uhhuh,uhhuh.Right general.Right away…Yes sir, yes sir.”He hungup the phone, jumpedup fromhis chair and

announcedtotherestoftherangerats,“Conditionyellow.SomebodywantstoplaywithCharlie.Wehave10minutes to be in the trucks andheadingout of here.Shut down everything andhead into base.Therangesareclosedfortherestoftheweek.Doug,gotelltherangeofficertoorderallplanestoreturntoDesertCenterinadirectandnormalmanner.Wayne,movetherangeboardstotheirredpositions.Therestofyoumen,getthetwopowerwagonsandbringthemaroundfrontwhileIcloseupthewindowsandpickupourcards,TODAY,Gentlemen.We’reclosingthisplacedown,TODAY!”Ipausedasthemendouble-timedpastme.ThenInervouslyaskedSteve,“Dothepull-outordersapply

tometoo,Steve?”Stevelaughedandresponded,“No,ofcoursenot,Charlie.Whoeveriscomingoutheretoplay,wants

toplaywithyou.”“Me?”Irespondednervously.Stevelaughedsomemoreashewaspickinguphisdeckofcards,“Juststaycalm,Charlie.We’reall

pullingout,officersandeveryone.Everythingouthereisyourstoplaywithfortherestoftheday.”Stevewasquiteright.Itwasabeautifuldayandeverythingoutatrangethreewasminetoplaywith,

apparentlyalone,fortherestoftheday.Thenextday,Tuesday,beganasanotherwarmbeautifulmorningoutatrangethree.Nothingfearfulhad

happenedbutforsomereasonmynervesbegantogetthebestofme.Itwasn’tlikemetobethatway.Ienjoyedbeingalone.UsuallyIwasn’ttheslightestbitafraidofthedarkbutforawhile,Iwasjumpingatmyownshadow.ThenIbecameconvinced that Iwashallucinatingagain.Every timeIwentanywhereoutsidemyweathershack,itlookedtomelikesomeyounggirloryoungwomanwouldsilentlyfloatupbehindmeand followmearound.Sometimes she appeared tobe about the sizeof a seventhor eighthgradegirl.Othertimessheappearedtobeayoungwomanmyheight,abouttheageof21.Oncetheyoungwomanappearedwithalittlegirlbyherside.Anothertimeallthreeappearedfloatingsidebyside.Soon

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Iwasn’tsure if Iwasbeingfollowedbyonewomanor two,or three,orseeingdoubleoreven triple.Usually, thewoman,or thegirl,wouldhidebehindmewhereIcouldn’tseeher.WhenI turnedaroundsuddenly,she’dbethere,maybe6or8feetaway,floatingafootorsooffthegroundsmilingatme.Shewasverythinwithchalkwhiteskin,largeblueeyes,andblondehair.Alwayssheworeawhitealuminumcanvaslikesuitthatgaveoffazoneofsoftwhitefluorescentlight.Theyoungwomanwiththelittlegirl,andtheyounggirlappearedtobethesameonesI’dseencloseup,thenightI’dhadsuchadifficulttimeunloadingmyshipmentoftwelveheliumcylinders.Forthatreason,whentheycame,Iwasn’tterrifiedorevenafraid.Ihadcometobelievethattheywerejustmyspecialpersonalapparitions.Iwashavingthismedicalproblem, I supposed,because Ididn’teat right,getenough rest,orbecause I’d spent somuchtimealoneoutontheranges.IwonderedifIwouldeverrecover.On this Tuesday night, pleasant thoughts would form slowly in my mind, thoughts such as “Hello

Charlie.DoyouenjoybeingcalledCharlie?Doyouenjoybeingoutherealoneinthedark?Thankyouforsavingthelifeofmylittlegirldownatrangeone.Youaren’tafraid,thewaytheotherswere.”Soonmyheartwasracingandmytempleswerepounding.Ibecamecertainthatmymindwasgoingandthat thecellsinmybrainhadgivenoutonme.AtfirstItriedsingingtomyselftocontrolmyfear.ThenIgaveuponsingingandstartedtalkingtothemasthoughtheywerehuman.I’dsaythingslike,“Nowpleasedon’tgogetting inmyway, little girl. I’mabusyman, and I have lotsofwork todobefore I cango in forbreakfast.You neverwant to comebetween aworkingman and his breakfast.” It seemed to settlemedown.Thewomanandthegirlsrespondedbysmilingandgigglingsilentlyinreturn.Thatmoonlessnight,outonrange three, Iwasstanding, leaningagainst thesturdymetal theodolitestand. Iwasenjoying thebeautiful starlight and checking on theweather. The youngwomanwas floating some 9 inches off thegroundintotalsilence,some8feetorsofromme,watchingmeintently.Shelookedsototallyrealthatforafewminutes,Iwasactuallytooscaredtomove.Iknewthatnomatterwhatshewas,ifIpanicked,I’dnevergetbackintobasealive.Isaidmyprayersandgotmyemotionsundercontrol.Ibeganbyslowlythinkingthingsthroughandcountingmyblessings.IhadaneasyjobandIlikeddoingit.IdecidedthatIwasoneluckyairman.Whywasteitallbylettingafewsillythingsinthenightscaremeoutofagoodthing?Yes,asIstoodthere,Igotmymindright.Idecidedthatsinceshehadn’tharmedmeyet,shewasn’tgoingto.Therefore,Ishouldlearntorelaxwhenevershewasaround,happilygoonaboutmybusiness,gorightonsingingmysunshinesongs,andtrustthatshewouldbefriendlyinreturn.IbeganmynewleaseonlifebyaskingtheyoungwomanpolitelytostepasidesoIcouldwalkbackto

myweathershackandgetmyballoon.ShesmiledandfloatedofftoonesidetomyrightsoIcouldgoby.Ismiled in return,and toldher,“Thanks”. Iwalkedslowlyanddirectly tomyweathershack. Igotmyballoon, confident that I finally hadmy senseless nameless fears under control. I was quite proud ofmyself,really,thewayIwaslearningtoworkaroundmyapparitions.Yes,ofmyself,Iwasveryproud.Theyoungwomanwatchedmefromasafedistance,twentyfeetorso,whileIgotmyballoonandtookthemorningrun.LaterIcouldseetheyounggirlplayinghappilyoverbytherangethreelounge.During the following nights, the eighth grade girl, the youngwoman, and the little girlwould come

wheneverIwasoutthere.Usuallytheycameoneatatime.Thereseemedtobeapatterntoit-twodaysonandtwodaysoffforawhile.Thenthey’dmissaday.Thenthey’dbeginanewcycleoftwodaysonandtwodaysoff.IfrequentlywonderedaboutthecyclebecauseIknewofnothingaboutmyhumanbodythatoperatedonsuchatwo-daycycle.Alwaystheycamefromoverbehindtherangethreelounge.Whentheyleft,that’swheretheywouldreturn.SoonIwasn’ttheslightestbitafraidwheneverIwouldseetheyoungwomanortheyounggirloverbytherangethreelounge,becauseIhadcometobelievethatwaswheremymindstoredallofmyapparitions.Overbreakfast,onemorning,Itoldmyfriends,Steve,WayneandDougaboutthechalkwhitewomenI

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wasseeing.Ibeganbylaughingatmyself,expectingthemtojoinin.Theyneverdid.Instead,theysilentlyexchangedseriousglances.ThenStevepleasantlysuggestedthatsomeafternoonwhenIhadnothingelseto do, I should check the soft ground over behind the range three lounge for boot prints. Perhaps, hesuggested,Imightfindasetthatmatchedthebootswornbytheeighthgradegirl.Hepointedoutthatherbootswouldbesmallerthananyman’sandtherefore,wouldleaveadistinctiveset.Iobjected,sayingtherecouldn’tpossiblybeanybootprintsoverbehindtherangethreeloungebecause

Icouldn’tpossiblycreateevensmallbootprintsbyhallucinating.Stevesmiledandresponded,“That’smypoint,Charlie.Remember,whenyoudofindsmallbootprintsover there, thewaymeandtheboyshaveinthepast,that’sexactlymypoint.”Thewhole conversationmademevery nervous.Once again, I became afraid they didn’t understand

howdifficultmydutieswere,howdifficultitwastogetupeveryweekdaymorning,aloneinthedarknessat3:00a.m.anddrivesome22milescompletelyaloneoutintothenighttimedesert,howeasilyaman’sfearscouldgetthebestofhiminthenighttimeashetriedtoperformevenasimpletask,likereadingathermometer,oncehebecamecertainthatsomeyoungeighthgradegirlwasplayinggamesbehindhim-ayounggirlwithtwoinchlongclaws,whocouldcomeupbehindhimsofastthatshecouldkillhimwithimpunityanytimeshefelt likeit. Iwantedtomakethemunderstandthat itmatterednotwhether thegirlwasrealoronlyafigmentofmyimagination.IfIpanicked,Iwouldbedeadeitherway.Nervous because of their continued silence and furtive, knowing glances, I responded to Steve,

stammering,“Don’tlookatmelikethatSteve.Thereisn’tanythingthematterwithme.MaybeIcouldusesomerest,andsomemorevitaminsorsomething,butI’mjustassaneasanymanhere!Ienjoybeingupherewithyouguys.Thereisn’tanythingoutthereintheemptydarknessthatIfear!”Steve smiled, good friend that hewas, and responded, “I knowCharlie. I agree there isn’t anything

whateverwrongwith you.Whatworriesme is that the darkness out there isn’t empty! Just remember,you’dhavetobesomekindofsuperhumantocreatebootprintsinthesandjustbyhallucinatingoutthereinthedarkness.”Thenextdaytherangesremainedclosed.Asusual,Iwastheonlyoneallowedtogooutontothem.Out

ofboredomIwentinforthenoonmealearly.Iwassurprisedtofindthatthebasewasalmostdeserted.Onlythenewcookwasmanningthechowhall.Hehadpreparedthenoonmealforonlyhimselfandme.Hehadplentyofworkwaitingforhim,soIwolfedmymealandhurriedbackouttotheranges.Themid-dayrunwentfastenough.Iwaskillingtimeuntilthelastrunoftheday,theoneat2:30p.m.It

wasahotsummerafternoonwithlightandgentlewinds.Ihadboththefrontdoorandthesidedoorofmyweathershackopen.IhadjustfinishedphoningthewindsintoDesertCenter.Iwasstandingjustinsidethefrontdoorofmyweathershack,withmybacksort-oftowardstheopenfrontdoor.Ihadtakenoffmysunglasses,hangingupthephonewithmyrighthand,justlayingthecompletedwindreportdownonmydeskwithmyleft.Itwassuchabeautifulday,andIwasreallyhappy.Ihadbeensingingsongsandevendancingaroundalittleinthebrightsunshine.Itwashot,veryhot.Ihadmeasuredthetemperatureat114degreesFahrenheit in the shade. I’d taken tocarryingdoubleand triplecanteensofwater. Iwasbeingextracarefulwithmywatersupplies.Iheardaslightsoundoutsideonthegravelbehindme.Thephoneinmyhandbegantinglingwithelectricity,andmyradiosuddenlyfuzzedoverwithalightstatic.Anunusual,gentlegustofwindcameinthroughmyweathershackandthenblewonthroughthegraveledrangethreearea.Withoutthinkingmuchaboutit,Iturnedaroundtoseewhatwasgoingonoutside.AssoonasIturned,andmygazehadpassedoutthroughmyopenfrontdoor,Isawher.Itwastheyoung

woman.Shewasstandingout therealoneonthesoftgravel, justpastmytheodolitestand,probably60feet from me. Only this time, she wasn’t wearing the fluorescent suit that she always wore at night.Consequentlyshewasnotfloatingasshefrequentlydidatnight.Thistimeshewasstandingnaturallyup

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straightonthesoftgraveledsoilwatchingme.Shewaswearingwhatappearedtobearelativelyordinarywhite aluminum canvas jumpsuitwithwhite nylon rubber boots, standing alone, out in the bright, hot,noondaysun,withhersolidchalkwhiteskin,unusuallythin,animatedframe,largeintelligentbrightblueeyes, the gentle southeast wind blowing her short, nearly transparent white, blonde hair to one side,smilingpleasantly atme. Itwasa sight that Iwill never forget. Iwasn’t afraidor even startled. Ihadbecomecertainthatshewasjustafigmentofmyimagination.Ifeltacertaindisappointmentwithmyself,believingthattheheatwasstartingtoaffectmybrain.Theglarefromthebrightsunshinewasintenseandhurtmyeyes,whichhadadjustedtotheshadedinteriorofmyweathershack.Thiscausedmeagreatdealofconfusionbecauseitmeantthatinorderformyeyestofeelpainwhileactuallyfocusinginonher,thelightraysreflectingoffherhadtobereal.Therefore,shehadtobereal.Theyoungwomanstoodthereforperhapsanother10or20seconds.Then,withahappysmileonher

face, in a smooth fluid fashion, she turned to her right and took off sprinting towards the range threelounge.ItwasoneofthemostbeautifulsightsthatIhaveeverseen.Shewasinfullstride,thewayGreekstatuesusuallydepictMercury,themessengerofthegods.Whensheapproachedthenortheastcornerofthe range three lounge, she covered the last five feet or so by putting both feet together and jumpingtowardsit,thewayabaseballrunnermightapproachsecondbase.Shecoveredtheshortdistancetotherangethreeloungeatmorethan25milesperhour.Thewholeeventhappenedsofastthatforawhile,Istoodnumbedandwonderingwhathadhappened.Aftergivingthematterextensiveconsideration,IrememberedSteve’swordsfromthebreakfasttable.

Sincethedirtwassoftoverbehindtherangethreelounge,perhapsIshouldgooverthereandcarefullycheckforbootprints.Cautiously,then,Iputonmycanteenbeltwithtwofullcanteensofwater.Itookagooddrinkofwaterfrommythirdcanteenhangingfromanailinmyweathershack,andverycautiouslysteppedoutside throughmy front door. Itwas abeautiful dayoutside, in spite of the intenseheat.Thedesertfloorwassizzlinghotandgettinghottereveryminute.ThedaybeforeIhadbroughttwoeggsoutfromthechowhall.JustforfunIhadfriedthemonthehoodofmytruck.Withsaltandpeppertheyhadtastedquitegood.Today,thedesertfloorwasevenhotter.ItwaswithagreatdealofcautionthatIapproachedmysteeltheodolitestandandfoundaspotwhichI

couldleanagainst,enjoyingitsfeelingofemotionalsecurity.Iwashesitant toprogressfurther towardsthe range three lounge. Itwasn’t the intenseheat thatmademehesitant. Itwas the sightofRangeFourHarrystandingoutintheopen,aboutaquartermiledownonthebunkerroadtothenortheast.Hewasayoungmale aboutmyheight,with chalkwhite skin, and large bright blue eyes that stretched partwayaroundthesidesofhishead.Hehadveryshortnearlywhiteblondehair.Inhishandshewascarryingasolidwhitepencillikeobjectabout18incheslong.Hestoodtherenaturally,watchingmyeverymove.HeobviouslyintendedthatIshouldseehim.“So,evenmyhallucinationshaveguards,”Iremarkedgrimlytomyself.Istoodtherebythetheodolitethinkingthingsthroughforalongtime.“Howcanahallucinationofayoungwomanbesointensethatitincludesherownsetofguards?”Iwondered.Afteralongtime,probablymorethanahalfhour,wayupthevalleytowardsrangefour,Icouldseethe

young woman, the eighth grade girl, and the little girl playing happily, hiking, circling towards themountains to the northeast.As they approached themountains northeast ofme,RangeFourHarry, stillstandingonthebunkerroad,finallybeganfallingbackalongthepavement.Then,hesuddenlyturnedawayfromme andmelted into the sagebrush behind him. I waited bymy theodolite stand for a long time,probablyanotherfifteenortwentyminutes.Apparentlyaloneagain,Icautiouslywalkedovertothespotwhere Ihadseen theyoungwomanstanding.Clearlyvisible in the softdirt andgravel,wereherbootprints. I followedthemstepforstepover to thesoftdirtbehindthenowdesertedrangethree lounge.Inoted that from the depth of the boot prints, even though she stood as tall as I did, sheweighed only

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between90and110pounds.Numb,hot,sweaty,andalittleafraid,Icarefullyretracedmyfootstepsbacktomyweather shack.Virtually every step of theway, I recited tomyself thewords, “It can’t be real.Whateverhappened,itjustcan’tbereal!”BythetimeIhadreturnedtothesafetyofmyweathershack,Ihad succeeded in convincingmyself that nothing unusual had happened and that this was just anotherordinaryhot summerday in thedesert. Itwas theonlyway I could feel sane, secure, andcomfortableagain.Singingmysongstomyself,Itookthe2:30p.m.runearly,phonedDesertCenterasusual,lockedupmyweather shack, shutdown thediesel asnormal, anddrovemy truckback into town, completelyconvincedthatnothingunusualhadhappenedthatday.IfeltIneededmorerest,soItooktheafternooneasy.Iwaswalkingovertoeveningchow,crossinga

largevacantareaontheMojaveWellsbase,whenmycasualfriendGreg,runninghard,caughtupwithme.Emotionalandintent,hecaughtmebymyrightelbowandstoppedmeoutintheopen.“Charlie!” he exclaimed, nearly out of breath, “I’m glad I caught you. I have to tell you about this

comingTuesday.”“Oh?WhataboutnextTuesday?”Iasked,waitingforhimtobreatheagain.“I’vegottotellyou,Charlie,”Gregcontinuedemotionally.“Stevemademepromise.Hesaidthatyou

had to be told. He said he’d die before he let those Desert Center generals surprise you as they’replanning.Something’sup,Charlie,somethingrealbig.Stevesaidifhetoldyou,they’dsuspecthim.Hesaidthey’dbreakhimdownforsureandcourtmartialhim.Me,now,they’llneversuspectme.Icantipyouoffandgetawaywithit.”“Tellmewhat?”Iinquired.“About this Tuesday’s inspection,” gaspedGreg. “ThoseDesert Center generals are out to get you,

Charlie.They’replanningabigsurpriseinspectiontogetyounextTuesday.”Ichuckled.“I’malwaysreadyforanything,Greg.Theycancomeinspectmyweatherstationsanytime

theyfeellike.Youmustbemistaken,though.Notevenmyowncommandersareallowedtocomeuphereandinspectme.Theymustbecomingupheretoinspectyouguys.”“No!No!”exclaimedGregemotionally,grabbingmyelbowharder.“Youdon’tunderstand,Charlie.It’s

nottheDesertCenterbasecommander.It’sthePentagongeneralswhoarecomingonTuesday.It’sthosegeneralsfrombackeastthatmustbeouttogetyoubecausethey’retheonescoming.”“Howdoyouknow?”Iasked,stutteringandbetrayingmyinnernervousness.“Today,ithappenedrightafterbreakfast,”answeredGreg,“Rightafteryougotinyourtruckandstarted

drivingbackout to range three. I tell you theymust havebeenwatchingyou.ThatDesertCenter basecommandinggeneralhadittimedperfectly.YouwerejustheadingoutontotherangeswhenhephoneduphereandorderedeverybodytoimmediatelyheadintoDesertCenterforanemergencybriefing.Everyoneexceptforthatnewcookandyou,hadtogo.Charlie,thewayhedidit,weallthoughtthatnuclearwarhadbeendeclared.“Once theairpolicemenhadusstandingatattention in thatbriefingroomdownat theDesertCenter

commandpost,thebasecommanderhimselfcameinandpersonallydeliveredtheorders.HeorderedallofusexceptyoutospendthisweekendandMondaymorning,preparingthisbasehereatMojaveWellsfor inspection.Hesaid thebasedoesn’thave tobeclean,orevenmilitary. Itonlyhas tobesafe.Anysafetyhazardshavetoberepairedorclearlyidentifiedandmarked.Onlythechowhallandtheairman’sclubhavetobespotless.Heorderedthatyouwerenottobeusedforanycleanupduties.Hewantsyoutobewellrestedandlookingjustthewayyouusuallyare.Youarenotevensupposedtobetoldinadvanceoftheinspection.Hesworethathewouldcourtmartialanymanwhodisobeyedhisorders.“Everythingelseuphere is tobe left looking just theway itnormally is.Hesaid that fourspecially

chosenairpolicemenwouldbepostedontheMojaveWellsfrontgateat4:00p.m.onMondayafternoon.

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They will remain continuously on duty all through Tuesday, until midnight in the evening. The airpolicemanwillbeleadbysomespecialyoungeight-stripechiefmastersergeantnamedSmith.TheyareorderedtoguaranteethattheMojaveWellsbaseisemptyandsecure.Hesaidonlyyouwillbeallowedtocomeandgoasyouplease.Hisorderswerethateveryoneoftherestofusaretobeginleavingthisbaseandheadingin toDesertCenter immediatelyafterfinishingournoonchowonMonday.We’re tocheckintothevisitingairman’sbarracksdownatDesertCenter.Therewillbehourlyrollcallsandbedchecksstartingat10:00p.m.onMondayevening,continuingalldayTuesday,untilmidnightonTuesdayevening.The air policemen will accompany us wherever we go. On Tuesday morning, after escorting us tobreakfastattheDesertCenterchowhall,theywillescortustotheDesertCenterbasetheaterwherewewillspendthedaywatchingAirForcetrainingfilms.”“But,Idon’tgetit,Greg,”Iprotested.“What’sanyofthisgottodowithme?Itsoundslikeit’syouguys

whoareinhotwaterandgettinginspected.Itdoesn’tsoundlikethegeneralscareatallaboutme.”“That’snothowtherestofusseeit,Charlie,”respondedGreg.“Ifonlyyouhadbeenthere,standingat

attentionwith us.When the general finished speaking, he asked if any of us had any questions. Steve,Doug,andWaynewereinthefrontrowinthemiddle,nexttoSmokey.Theyalltookonestepforwardatthesametime,andSteverequestedpermissiontospeak.Thegeneralagreed.Stevegotrealemotional.Hetoldthegeneralhowhe,Wayne,andDoughadbeenoutontherangessolong,therewasn’tanythingoutheretheyhadn’tseenmanytimesover.HesaidthatatleastheandWayneandDoughadneverhadtofacethemalone.Hetoldthegeneralthatitwasn’trightthattheyshouldexpectyoutogoouttherealonejusttostandforsomewhitewolfinspection.HebeggedthegeneraltolethimorWayneorDouggowithyoutoguardyourback,oratleasttoletoneofthemwaitforyouattherangethreegate.Hesaideverymanintheroomowedyouhislife.Hesaidthiswholeplacewassaferbecauseofyou,andnowitwasourdutytoprotectyouthewayyou’dbeenprotectingus.“We all thought that Steve was going to get put in the brig, but the Desert Center commander just

listenedpolitely.He toldSteve that theordershadcome from thePentagonandweren’this tochange.ThenheorderedSteve,Wayne,andDougtoremainsilentandnottoaskanymorequestions.“Then Smokey took one step forward and requested permission to speak. That Smokey, you know

Charlieisoneintelligentperson.Heknewjusthowtotakethegeneral.Hebeganbylaughingalittlebit.HepointedouttothegeneralthatheistheseniorcookintheMojaveWellschowhall,andthatyouandhearebrothers.ThenSmokeyasked thegeneralwhat theyexpectedyou to eat for chowduring thewhitewolfinspection.“ThegeneralrepliedthatyouwouldbeissuedadoublesetofK-rationstocoveryouwhileeveryone

elsewasatDesertCenter.“Then Smokey laughed. Charlie, I wish you could have seen old Smokey at work. He knows that

general.Smokeypointedoutthatyouareabigeater.HesaidthatyouconsideredthosetinyK-rationstobelittlemorethanappetizers.Hetoldthegeneralthatwhatyouneededwasrealfood,friedeggs,meatand potatoes, if you were to be expected to show off that lion-like roar of yours. Smokey asked thegeneraltoleavehimaloneintheWellschowhalltomakesurethatyougetfedproperwithgoodcoffeeandgoodmeals.ThatwaySmokeysaid,thegeneralcouldbesuretheinspectionwouldgothewaytheyplanned.Thatway,ifanythingwentwrong,yourbrotherSmokeywouldberighttherewiththehotcoffee,friedeggs,andhamburgersjustthewayyoulikethem.He’dgetyourightbacktoyourlion-heartedself,soyoucouldberightbackoutthereforanotheroneofthemwhitewolfstand-ups,justliketheywanted.Youcouldseehehadthegeneralthinking.“Thenheworkedhisideasdeeperintothegeneral’sbrain.Hetoldthegeneralthatiftheylethimstay

upherewithyou, thePentagongeneralsandtheirwhitewolffriendscould inspectyouwhenyouwere

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eatingyourmealswithSmokey.Hesaidthathewouldbesittingatthetablerighttherebesideyou,withhisback to everyone,generals,whitewolves andall. I tell youCharlie, soonSmokeyhad thatDesertCenterbasecommanderlaughingandagreeingtoeverything.Afterwards,Steve,Wayne,andDougwereoutsidehuggingSmokeyandrubbinghishairsaying,“ThankGodyouwerethere.Charlieisgoingtoneedallofthehelpthathecanget.”Greg paused for a minute, catching his breath. Then, he stated quickly, “I’d better get out of here,

Charlie.Justremember,wewereallinagreementthatyouneededtobewarned.”Thenhetookoffdoubletimingtowardstown,beforeIcouldaskanymorequestions.Thedays passedquickly enough. Inspectionmorningwas another clear, hot, beautiful dayout in the

desert.Themorningrunwentsmoothlyenough.SmokeyandIhadthetimeofourlivesoverbreakfast.Theentirebasewasdesertedexceptforus.Welaugheduntiloursideshurt.HowcouldAirForcegeneralsholdaninspectioninasilliermanner?Yes,inspectionmorningwassurefun.IbidSmokeygood-bye,andheadedonout for the8:00a.m.balloon run.As Iwas leaving thebasearea, Inoticed that the specialguardshadalready takenup theirpositionson thefrontgate.Twoother inspection teamswerealreadybeginningtogothroughthebarracksandthebuildingsonthebaseofMojaveWells.Anotherguardwasheadingonup to thechowhall,obviously togetSmokeyoutof thewayof the inspection teams. Iwaslaughingtomyselfat thetime.Ididn’tpaymuchattentiontotheinspectionteams,butasIwasheadingpastthemotorpool,lookingbackatmybarracks,Inoticedthattwopeoplewithanunusualappearance,andwithunusuallywhiteskinwereinspectingit.Themorningballoonrunswerealsouneventful.Therangescertainlyseemeddeserted.Icameinforthe

noonmealsingingmysunshinesongs,andparkedasalways in frontof thechowhall.WhenIentered,Smokeyalreadyhadoneofthetablesinthefrontofthediningareapreparedforthetwoofus.Itwassetwith foodandeverything.Thebackhalfof thediningareahadbeenclosedoffwithacurtain.Oneairforceguard,asergeantSmith,mindedthecurtain.AfterSmokeyandIhadtakenourassignedplaces,withourbacks to thecurtain, thecurtainwasopenedpartway.Smokeyand I laughed likebrothers,ateourfood,discussedfastcarsandwildwomen, totallyignoredwhoeverwasseatedbeyondthecurtain,andgenerallyhadawonderfulmeal.Whenwehadfinishedeating,thecurtainwasclosed.Isaidgood-byetoSmokey,leftthechowhalllaughing,andheadedbackouttotheranges.The last wind measurement for the day was a simple matter. I turned my radio up loud, filled my

balloonwithhelium,andwonderedhowanenlistedman’s lifecouldgetanybetter.Thedesert,byoneo’clockintheafternoon,was114degreesFahrenheitandgettinghotter.Thehumiditywaslessthan1%.Evenashortwalkinthehotsunshinewouldpushamantothelimitsofhisendurance.MytheodolitehadbecomehotenoughtoburnmyhandsifIwasn’tcareful.Thereweretheusualgentlebreezes, lightandvariablefromeachof thedistantmountains in turn.Theballoonrunwaslittlemorethanchild’splay.Ikeptasharpeyeoutforanythingunusual,buttherangesappearedtobesodesertedthatsoonIfeltfoolishforevenchecking.Idaydreamedmywaythroughthelastthreetheodolitereadings,andcarefullylockedupmyburninghot

theodolite.Then,singing,Icasuallystrolledacrossthehot,dry,graveled,desertpavementtomyweathershackbeyond.Iadjustedthevolumeonmyradio,completedmycalculations,andphonedDesertCenter.Dwightanswered.Iexpectedtolaughawhilewithmyfriend.Onadayliketoday,howcouldtherebeanyhurry,butDwightwasanxious,andhighlyagitated.Heinsistedthat theDesertCenterbasecommanderwaswaiting on the command-post phone line, not for the readings, just for news on how the runwasgoing. Dwight claimed the Desert Center base commander was highly concerned that the range threeloungemightnotbeship-shape.HeinsistedthatIcheckonitassoonaspossible.Dwightrefusedtoacceptmywindmeasurements.Hesaidthebasecommanderdidn’twanthimwasting

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my timebyevenwriting themdown.Flabbergasted, I reassuredDwight that Iwoulddoublecheck theloungeimmediatelyandphonehimbackbeforeheadinginfortheday.Then,Dwightreallyconfusedme.Hesaidthatthebasecommander,atwostargeneral,hadvirtuallybeggedhim,anenlistedmanlikeme,toaskme tophoneDesertCenteragainas soonas Igotback from the lounge.Dwight saidheneeded toreassurethegeneralthatIwasallright.ThewholethingseemedsobackwardstomethatIcouldhardlyrestrainmylaughter.“Doesn’tthegeneralhaveasparecoloneltocomeuphereandslapmeintoline?”Imused.Dwightwasdeadlyseriousanddidn’tseemtobeputtingmeon.Laughingandhappy,Iexclaimed,“Don’tworry,Dwight. I’ma taxpayer.Tell thegeneral that Iownthisplaceandeverythingouthere isminetoplaywithfortherestoftheday.TellhimI’llwalkrightovertheretotheloungeandseteverythingIown,straight.”Then,Ihungupthephone,stilllaughingandstillconfused.Oneofmysongscameon the radio. I spent a fewmoreminutesdancingaround in thehot sunshine,

singingalongwiththesongandsometimestossingmycaphighintheairandcatchingit.Then,happyandlaughing,Isteppedbackintomyweathershack.Iputonmycanteenbeltwithitstwofullcanteens.Itookabigdrinkofwaterfrommythirdcanteen.Thedaysurewashot.Ihungmythirdcanteenonahookonthewallandturnedoffmyradio.Iclosed,butdidn’tlockmyweathershackandstrolledhappilyoffacrosstheopengraveledsquaretowardstherangethreelounge.IwaswonderinghowIcouldeverbehappier.Afewminuteslaterandinthefullnessoftime,Iarrivedatthenortheastcornerofthelounge.Myruns

for thedaywereover.Onaniceday like today,howcould therebeanyhurry.“Forgot thegeneral,” Ilaughed.“He’sgothisproblems.I’vegotmine.”I rounded the northeast corner of the lounge singing loudly. For a brief moment I heard a gentle

fluttering or scurrying off in the dry desert on the other side of the lounge. It meant nothing to me. Icontinuedsingingandwalking.Thefrontdoortotheloungestoodwideopen.Istoppedandwonderedforafewminutes.Ihadcheckeditearlier,justafterbreakfast.Idistinctlyrememberedclosingit.Therangesweredeserted,weren’t they?Unable to resolve thequestion, I shrugged itoff,andcasuallywalkedoninside.Inside,theloungehadtwolargeroomswithalarge,talldoorwayinbetween.Theceilingsinthelounge

werehigh,butnotunusuallyhighfor thehotdesert.Except for theopendoor,virtually theentirenorthwalloftheloungeconsistedofanearlycontinuousrowoflargepicturewindowswithasecondrowofventilationwindowsbelowthem,atchestheight.Theventilationwindowsopenedinward.Thereweren’tanywindowsordoorsontheotherthreesides.Thus,onceinside,nothingcouldbeseentotheeast,tothesouth,ortothewest.Theflooroftheloungewassmoothlypouredconcrete.Outinfrontofthelounge,runningeastandwest

alongthenorthside,wasaconcretesidewalk.Itadjoinedthebuildingandthedesertbeyond.Inaddition,the roofof the loungehungoutover the sidewalkon thenorth side, creatinga reasonablycool shadedarea.Currently,allof thewindows thatcouldbeopenhadbeenopened.Consequently, the loungewassweptwithoccasionalcoolbreezes.Onahotdayliketoday,itwasapleasantoasissittingontheedgeofabrutalcauldron.Aheavywoodendeskwithatelephone,andasimplepaddedmetalchairwithpaddedmetalarms,sat

againstthefarsouthwallofthefirstroom.Aroundthedesksatseveralothersimilarchairs.Inoticedthatthechairshadbeenneatlyarrangedagainstthewalls.TheentireloungehadbeensweptanddustedsinceIhad checked it after breakfast-and all of thewindowshadbeenopened. I thought about that for a fewminutesandwondered.Maybeitwasjustmymemory,Idecided,andshruggeditalloff.Stillsinging,Iproceededintothesecondroomtoclosetheopenwindows.Thesecondroomcontained

asteel-leggedcouchneatlyalignedalongitsinnereastwall.Nexttothecouch,facingthewindowsandthe door was a large old wooden legged padded chair with padded exposed arms. The chair was

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positionedata45degreeangletothesofa,inlinewiththesofa’sfarend.Itspreadoutabout5feetfromtheendofthesofa.Thechairsatempty,facingme.AssoonasIsawit,itspositionmadeanimmediateimpactonme.IwascertainthatIhadpositionedthechairagainstthefarwallwhenIcheckedtheloungeafter breakfast. Looking at the chair, I became immediately convinced that someone had recently beensittinginthechairwaitingforme.Irememberedthatafewweeksearlier,myfriendDougclaimedthatwhenhe,Steve,andWaynehad

comeouthereonemorning, theyhad found the furniture arrangedas it is now,with anordinarynylonhammock,typicalgovernmentissuetocargoplaneloadmasters,tiedneatlybetweenthearmofthechairandthearmofthesofawhichnowstooddirectlyinfrontofme.Thefurniturewasinthesamepositionnowthatithadbeenthen.Dougsaidthehammockwasonly5feetlongandtherefore,onlybigenoughtohaveheldayoungchild.Stevehadinsistedthatthehammockbefoldedneatlyandleftonthechair.Thentheyhadallheadedback intobase.Dougsaid that thenextdaywhentheycameout, thehammockwasgone.Atthetime,DougwantedtomakecertainthatIhadn’taccidentallytakenit.Istoodtherestunned.Theonlylogicalexplanationwasthatsomeonemusthavesatinthechair,andusedthesofatosecureahammockstylebabybed.Iwalkedovertothechairandtesteditandthesofa.Boththesofaandthechairslideasilyonthesmoothconcretefloor.Suchacradlecouldn’thavesupportedmuchmorethan30poundsbefore the furniture slid and the supports collapsed. Everything seemed so impossible, soincomprehensibleandbackwards.Iwrestledwiththesecontradictionsforafewminutes.Iputthechairandthesofabackthewaythey

had been, completewith the 45 degree angle. Iwent back to singing one ofmy songs, and began theprocessof closingdown theopenwindows. Iwas just closing the secondonewhen the loungephonebegan ringing. It startledme,but I supposed that itmust just bemy friendDwight fromDesertCenter,callingtocheckuponme.Icrossedoverthroughtheinnerdoor,backacrossthefirstroom,andansweredthephonelaughing,“Loungethree,airmanCharlieBaker.”Iinstinctivelyfacedthephone,thesouthwall,andturnedmybacktotheopendoor,totheoutside,andtothewindowsbehindme.Therewas nothing on the phone, but a dial tone. I supposed thatmaybeDwight hadn’twaited long

enoughformetogettothephone,soIbegandialingtheDesertCenterWeatherStation,butafteronly3or4ofthenumbershadbeendialed,thelinewentdead.“Militaryequipment!”Ilaughedtomyself,andputdownthereceiver.Ihaddecidedtoletnothingruinmyperfectafternoon.IdecidedtowaitbythephoneforafewminutesincaseDwightcalledback.Itookoffmycumbersome

canteenbelt,laiditdownonthedeskandsatdowninthechair.Iwasintheprocessofopeningoneofmycanteenswhenmyeyesweredrawntosomethingwhitemovingoutsideinthebrightsunshine.Casually,Ifinishedmydrinkofwaterandputdownmycanteen.AnothersoftbreezerustledthroughtheloungeasIsatthere.WhileIwatchedthroughthewindows,outside,thechalkwhiteeighthgradegirlsmoothlytookupapositioninthethinsagebrush.Shehadsilentlycomeupoverasagebrushcoveredridgeathousandfeet or so to the northwest. Deliberately choosing an open area in the thin sagebrush, she came to astandingpositionsome50feetnorthwestofthedoorwaytotherangethreelounge.WhileIwatched,sheremainedstandingthere,completelyateaseinthehot,brightsunshine.Shestoodlookingatmethroughthewindows.Isatonthechairinsidethelounge,watchingherinreturn.Sheobviouslywantedmetoseethatshewasoutthere.Thechalkwhitealuminizedcanvasjumpsuitthatshewore,matchedthechalkwhitecolorofherskin.Itdidnotglintinthebrightsunshine.Withherlargebrightblueintelligentlookingeyesandhershortblonde-whitehair,sheappearedtobetheverypersonificationofahot,bright,summertimedesertafternoon.Sheappearedtobeacreaturecreatedentirelyoutofsunshine.Iremainedsittingcasuallyinthechairbythedesk.Despitethefactthatthechalkwhitegirlappearedto

be perfectly real, I still considered her and all of the chalk white creatures to be nothing more than

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hallucinations.ConsideringthatIhadclosedacoupleoftheopenwindows,Isupposedthatperhapsmybrainwassufferingfromtheeffectsoftheheat.Underthecircumstances,itseemedonlynaturalforme,afterrecitingafewprayers,tostandupslowlyandstrollcasuallyovertotheopenfrontdoor.Therewasanicebreezethroughthedoorway.Usingmyleftforearm,Ileanednaturallyagainsttheleftdoorjamandstudiedthechalkwhiteeighthgradegirlforafewminutes.Iwashopingthatwiththefreshair,mybrainwouldsoonreturntofunctioningnormally,atwhichtimeIexpectedshewouldgoaway.AsIstoodthere,IspoketotheyounggirlasIhadtrainedmyselftodo.Isaidpleasantly,asthoughtalkingtomyself,“Well,yousurearehavingfunoutthereinthesunshinetoday.”The chalk white young girl didn’t answer me. Instead, moving smoothly, she closed the distance

betweenustoabout25feet,obviouslyintendingtoattractmyattention.Despitehersilence,sheappearedtobereactingtomywords.Istudiedherforafewminutes.Sheseemedhappyenough,butsheappearedtobenoticeablymorenervousthannormal.RememberingthewordsthatStevehadspoken,Inoticedthatthemoldedaluminizednylonbootsthatshewaswearing,leftvisiblebootprintsinthesoftdirtwhereshewasstanding.Thismademecurious.Ipartlyclosedthedoorbehindmeandcasuallysteppedoutontotheconcretesidewalk.Isaidtoher,asthoughtalkingtomyself,“Don’tbeafraid.I’mnotgoingtotouchyou.Ijustwanttoseeyoucloseup.Iwanttogetabetterlookatthebootprintswhichyouaremakinginthesoftdirtoverthere.”I had taken only 3 or 4 steps in her direction when she appeared to panic. She began by running

backwardsforseveralsteps.Thensheturnedandwentcrashingthroughsomesmallthinsagebrush.Thenshetookoffrunningatfullspeeduntilshehaddisappearedbackoverthesagebrush-coveredridge,whichlayabout1000feetnorthwestofme.Istoppedandstoodstillforafewminutes.Ishoutedloudly,callingafterher,“Don’tbeafraid.Ididn’tmeantofrightenyou.Iwasn’tgoingtotouchyou.Youcancomeback.Iwon’thurtyou.”Therewasnoresponse.Istoppedandthoughtforafewminutes,timingherassheran.Shehadbeen travelingmore than35milesanhourwhenshearrivedat the ridge.To run that fast,hernervoussystemwouldhavetobeoperatingsome2andahalftimesfasterthanthenervoussystemofanyhuman.Thisconvincedme that shehad justbeena figmentofmy imagination.“Oh,Well,” I shrugged,“I’lljusthavetobemorecarefulinthishotsun.”Iwalkedcasuallyovertowheretheyounggirlhadbeenstandingandinspectedthebootprintsthatshe

had left in the softdirt.Their reality frightenedme.Usingmy leftboot, I carefully spread the softdirtaroundanderasedherbootprints.Itmademefeelmuchbetter.Itwasahotday,andIwasn’tinanyhurry.Militarydutyissuchaconstantthing.Icasuallyretracedmy

stepsbacktotheloungedoorway,wipedthesweatoffmybrow,andstrolledbackintothecooler,shadedlounge.Ineededtogetmycanteens,phoneDesertCenter,andrestafewminutesbeforeheadingbackintobase.Ireopenedtheclosedwindows,leftthefrontdoorwideopen,andreturnedbacktothechairbythephone.Thephonewasstilldead.As I sat there, I noticed the chalkwhite eighthgradegirl carefully circlingout to thewest,wayout

along the sagebrush-covered ridge. After a few minutes of circling and searching, way out to thenorthwestof the lounge,sheappeared to locateanopenpath through thesagebrush that ledback to theopenspotthatshehadvacatedearlier.Thistime,shewasmuchmorenervousthanbefore.Withaseriesofslowcautiousmoves,frequentlyretracinghersteps,shedeliberatelyreturnedtotheopenspotwhereshehadpreviouslybeenstanding.Iwasshockedbytheprecisionwithwhichsheunerringlyreturnedtotheverysamepieceofearth.HadInotwipedoutherpreviousbootprints,shewouldhaveonceagainbeenstandinginthem.Iwondered,“Howcanmyhallucinationscareaboutsuchprecision,andknowthedesert better than I do?”The young eighth grade girlwaitedwhere shewas,watchingme through thewindow.SheobviouslyintendedonceagainthatIshouldseeher.

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Isatwaitingforafewmoreminutes.Iwasstillsupposingthatmybrainwasplayingtricksasareactionto the day’s heat. I decided that I had no choice but to go back outside and face the figments of myimagination. I took another drink of water, stood up, and attached the full canteen to the belt on mymilitaryfatigues.Then,aftersayingsomemorequickprayers,Iwentoutslowlyanddeliberatelytofacewhateverlayoutsideinthesunshine…realorimagined.Reachingthefrontdoor,Iwaitedforafewminutes,enjoyingthegentlebreeze.ThenIspokeslowlyto

theyounggirl.Onceagain,shecautiouslyclosedthedistancebetweenustoabout25feet.“I’mgladyoucameback.”Istated,asthoughtalkingtoayounggirl.“Ididn’tmeantofrightenyou.IknowIdon’tlikeitwhenotherpeoplefrightenme,soItrynottofrightenotherpeopleinreturn.”Shesmiledatmenervouslybutdidn’tsayanything.ThenIheardagentlebumpingsoundcomingfrom

beyond thehiddenwest sideof the lounge.Before Icould react to it, Iheardasimilarbumpingsoundbehind thehiddeneastsideof the lounge.“Who’s there?”I instinctivelycalledout. Iwasgreetedonlywithsilence.“That’salotofnoiseforadesertedstretchofdesert,”Iopenlymuttered.Thechalkwhitegirlremainedonstationandseemedtosmileandshakeherheadinagreementwithme.IdecidedthatIshouldmovetoamoredefendableposition.Ireassuredthechalkwhitegirlnottobeafraid.Then,whilesingingoneofmysongs,Igingerlysteppedoutside.IpositionedmyselfsothatIstoodnextto,andjustwestofthefrontdoor.Iplacedmybackhardagainstthenarrowsectionofthewallbetweenthedoorjamandthefirstwindow.Istoodthereforafewminutes,waitingtobeattacked.Ignoringthegirlforaminuteorso, Ibeganvisuallychecking the immediatevicinity fordangerandforanescaperoute.Not findinganything of note, I continued visually checking the ridgeline straight north from the lounge. The girlobviouslywantedmetopaymoreattentiontoher.Withaswiftfluidmotion,shesuddenlyskippedtoherleftandbeganmakingaseriesof softmeadowlark likesoundsasshedidso.Shecontinueddoing thisuntilshewasabout20feet infrontofme,directlyinmyfieldofvision.Then,dancingsomemoreandmaking a few waving hand motions, along with the meadowlark sounds, she skipped backwards andsideways,backtoherpreviousposition,watchingmyeyesasshedidso.Thistookmebysurprise.“So,youwantme to look in your direction?” I inquired. She smiled in return and continued skipping andperformingalittledance,obviouslyintendingtokeepmyattention.Agentlewindcamethroughtheshadedarea,movingafewdrybitsof theamberdustandsandas it

journeyedonitsway.Then,Iheardamoresubstantivesoundoutinthesagebrushbehindmeandtomyright.Iturnedmyheadslowly,tryingtocomprehendthesightsbeforeme.Diagonallyofftomyrightandjustalittleeastofnorthfromthelounge,stoodtheotheryoungchalkwhitewoman.Shehadjustfinishedtakingupapositionsome30feetfromme,inanopenspotoutinthethinlyspreadsagebrush.Shewassmilingatme,andwatchingmeintently.Sheseemedmorenervous thanusual.Downbyherwaist,shewasholdingasquarechalkwhitepencillikeobjectinherhands.Offtoherleft,anddiagonallyofftomynortheaststoodRangeFourHarry.Liketheyoungwoman,hewasstandingfullyupright,holdingachalkwhitepencillikeobjectinhishands.Theybothsmiledpleasantlyatme.Straighteastofme,Icouldseean American USAF sergeant wearing six stripes, double timing from the end of the bunker road,diagonallyacrossthegraveledsquare,inthedirectionofmyweathershack.Behindhim,anotherUSAFsergeantwearingeight stripes,double-timed in thedirectionofmy theodolite stand.As Iwatched, toosurprisedtoreact,theybothdisappearedoutofsight,hiddenbytheedgeoftheloungebuilding.Icouldhear the last sergeantbarkingmuffledorders tohismen,“Brown, takehis truck. Jones, shutdown thatgeneratorandguardthatgeneratordoor.Johnson,takethatsupplyshed.Anderson,takethatsidedoortohisweathershack.I’llcoverthetheodolitestandandhisfrontdoor.Brown,whenhecomes,we’lldrivehimyourway.Remembermen,whenthesaidairmancomesoutofthere;he’sgoingtobehysterical.Don’twasteany time! Immediatelyknockhimcoldanywayyoucan,and let themedicalcolonelworryabout

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puttinghimbacktogether.”Iturnedtotheyoungwomanandremarkedcalmly,“That’squiteareceptionpartytheyhaveplanned.I

wonderwhothey’reexpecting.”Theyoungchalkwhitewomannervouslyreturnedmysmile.Itseemedlike shewasgoing to say something tome,but thendecidedagainst it.Somethingwhiteoff tomy leftcaughtmyeye. I turnedmyheadover thatway.Anotheryoungchalkwhitemalehad steppedout frombehindthewestsideoftheloungeandstoodsmiling,confrontingmesome35feetofftomyleft.Hetoo,was well armed. Turning back to my right, I could see another older, well armed, chalk white malestandingdownattheedgeofthebunkerroad.BehindhimstoodanAmericanthreestarUSAFgeneralandabirdcolonel.Afewhundredfeetbehindthem,andfurtherdownthebunkerroad,stoodanothergroupoffiveor so,chalkwhitecreaturesclusteredarounda tallanddignifiedchalkwhitemale.Hewas tallerthanmosthumans,perhapssixfeet threeinchesor taller,butnotunusually tall foroneof thecreatures.Togethertheymadeastunningsightastheyallstoodtherewatchingmeinthehotafternoonsun.I could hearmoremuffled commands coming from the sergeants. Theywere out of sight behind the

loungeandbehindmetomyright.IcouldhearAndersonshoutinganxiously,inmuffledsounds,“Sergeant,Smith.Thesidedoortohisweathershackcan’tbeheld.It’stoonarrowinthere.He’lloverpowermeforsure.Requestpermissiontojoinyouatthetheodolitestandandtakehimoutintheopen,headon.”Smithrespondedimmediately,“Requestdenied.Comeforwardtothecorneroftheshackandholdthat

positionatanyprice.Iwillassistyouwhenhecomes.”Andersoncontinued,hisshoutsheavywithemotion,“SergeantSmith,withrespect,wecan’tholdthat

gapbetweentheshackandthecablefence.Thesaidairmancanescapethroughthatholethere,intothatheavy sagebrush.Thenhe’ll rundown towards range two to the southeast, there!Oncehe’sout in thatheavysagebrush,he’llshakeoffourwhitefriends.Thenhe’lltakecoverandgotoground.He’lleludeusuntilnightfall.Inthedarknesshe’llescapecompletely.Atnightoutthere,we’llneverfindhim.”SergeantSmithcouldbeheardshoutingbackangrily,“Holdthatcornerasordered,sergeant!Holditat

anyprice!Letourwhitefriendsworryaboutcoveringthegaps!”Istood therefora fewminutes,quietlystudyingmysituation.ThenI turned to theyoungchalkwhite

woman.Shehadslowlyclosedthedistancebetweenustoamere18feet.Speakingcalmlyandpleasantly,Isaidtoher,“Well,Iseeyou’vebroughtfriends,andsomeofthemseemprettyinterestedinholdingontotherealestate.”Sheseemedtofindmystatementamusing.Aftersilentlylaughing,shesmiledinreturn.InthebackgroundIcouldhearthemuffledsoundsofthesergeantsreportingin.SergeantSmithbarkedoutinmuffledsounds,“Brown.”ThenSergeantBrown,answered,“Standingreadytobeattacked,sergeant!”ThenJones,“Standingreadytobeattacked,sergeant!”ThenJohnson,andAndersoninturn,“Standingreadytobeattacked,sergeant!”OnceagainIturnedbacktotheyoungwomanandsaid,“Well,itlookslikeI’mquiteabitsaferover

herebyyouthanIwouldbeifIwerebacktherebymyweathershack.BackthereI’mafraidIwouldbeintheway,andmaybealittleunderfoot.”Onceagain,thechalkwhitewomanlaughedsilentlyforashortwhile.Shegavemeanotherhappysmileandlookedasifsheweregoingtosaysomethingtome,butaftera few more minutes, she appeared to decide against it. As I stood there, studying her carefully, sheappearedtocalmdownagreatdeal.”I continued, still believing that I was speaking to one of my hallucinations, “This is some brain

malfunction party I’m having here, but none of you figments ofmy imaginationworryme.What doesworryme,though,isthatAmericancoloneloverthere.Itlookstomelikehe’sperfectlyreal.Ifheis,hesurewill putme towork in this hot sun, just to impress that three star general next tohim.When thatgeneralseeshowdirty thisplace is, thathighrankingofficerwillcourtmartialmeforsure. Ikeepmy

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weathershackcleanandmilitary,butIhadnoideatheyweregoingtosendsomethreestargeneraloutherejusttocheckuponme.Somebodymustbeouttogetmereallygood!IthinkI’dbettergetoutofherebeforethoseofficersstartplayinggameswithmeforreal.Nowdon’tbeafraidorsurprised.Iplantotakeoffrunningstraightpastyou,rightupthevalleytothenorth,there.I’mgoingtohavetobrushpastyoutodoit,butdon’tgetangry.Ifigureyoumustbewellarmedtohavecomeinthisclose,sodon’tgogettingtrigger-happyonme.I’mnotevengoingtotouchyou.I’mjusttryingtosavemyselffromthatthreestargeneraloverthere.There’sagoodshadyhidingspotjustoverthatridgenorthofhere.IfItakeoffrunningsuddenly,thatgeneralandthosesergeantswillnevercatchme.Youcanfollowmeifyouwantto.Wecanbothfindsomeshadeunderthatbigsagebrushupthere,andthoseofficerswillneverfindus.It’llbeasimplemattertohideoutthereuntilsundownandletmybraincooloff.I’llcleanmyweathershackthiseveningsoit’llpassinspection.Ifthoseofficerscomebacktomorrow,I’llpretendthatIwassickfromtheheattoday,andlosttrackofwhichdaytheywerecoming.ThenI’llfakesomestomachpainsandgetaweekoffrelaxingdownintheDesertCenterhospital.Youknow,ifIdothisright,ImightevenhavethemthinkingI’msomekindofherowhogotaheatstrokedoinghisdutyouthereinthebrightsunshine.”Theyoungchalkwhitewomanseemedtofinditallveryamusing.Afterlaughingsomemoresilently,

shesmiledatmepleasantly,butrefusedtostepaside.Sheintentionallymovedtoherright,toapositionthat blockedmy planned escape route. From over the ridge north ofme, twomore young chalkwhitemalesappeared.Offtomyleft,anotherchalkwhitecreatureappearedovertheridgelineinthedistance.Stillanotherchalkwhiteyounggirlsteppedoutfrombehindthehiddenwestsideofthelounge,plugginganothergapinthecircle.Thenanotheryoungchalkwhitewomansteppedoutfromthehiddeneastsideofthe lounge. All of them stood smiling pleasantly at me. I turned back towards the young chalk whitewomanstandingnowsome15feetinfrontofme,andremarkednervously,“Well,itdoesn’tlooklikeI’mgoingtobegoingmuchofanywheredoesit?”Shesmiledinreturn,asiftoagree.“Well,youknowI’mafunlover,”Iresponded,makinglightofmydifficultsituation.“Thereisn’tthat

muchtobesaidforhidingoutinthehotsageonadayliketodayanyway.Yes,nowthatIthinkaboutit,I’vedecidedtostayrightwhereIam,andletmybraincooloffrighthereintheshade.Standinghereinthisnicebreezewillletmybraincoolrightdown.Inalittlewhileallofthesehallucinationsaroundmewill just floataway. If thatcolonelcomesoverhereandgivesmeahard time,wellyouknowIenjoybeingthecenterofattention,evenifitisatmyowncourtmartial.”Thechalkwhitewomanandtherestofthechalkwhitecreaturesseemedtofinditallveryamusing.In

thedistanceofftotheeast,thegeneralcouldbeheardexclaimingtothecolonel,“Thegutsofthattoughyoungsoldier!He’sall-alone,cornered,anddefenseless.He’sgotnohelpcomingandhe’sstillgoingtomakeastandtherewithhisbacktothewall.Thatyoungairmanisgoingtomakeuscomegethim!Andifwedo, thatdesert-hardenedsoldierwill fightuseveryinch, toothandnail!Wheredid theyfindamanlikethat?”Anothergentlewindwhispered through theshadedarea. Itplayedandswirled through the fine, light

sand.Itformedthesoftambershiftingsandintobeautifulwhisperingdriftsandpilesandminiaturedunesaroundmy feet.As it did so, the young chalkwhitewoman in front ofme slowly closed the distancebetweenus tosome10feetorso.Off tomy left, thechalkwhiteeighthgradegirlcontinuedherslow,happy dance as she too, slowly closed the distance between us to less than 15 feet. Then as if oncommand,thepre-teengirlmadeaquick,suddenmovetowardsthebuildingtomyleft,givingoffasoftmeadowlarklikesoundasshedidso.Sheobviouslyintendedtoattractmyattention,andIinstinctivelyturnedmyheadinherdirection.Thisexposedmybarerighttempletotheyoungwomaninfrontofme.Movingtoofastformetoreact,sheraisedthesquarewhiteobjectthatsheheldinherhands,pointedit

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straightatmyexposedright temple,andactivated the instrument.Mymindsuddenlyseemed towanderandgooutoffocus.Ifoundmyselfunabletomovemyarmsorlegs.Icouldmovemyheadonlywithgreatdifficulty. I tried desperately to shake it off, but I couldn’t. Smiling and pleasant, Range Four Harryapproached me from my right side. After he had approached to within arm’s length, the chalk whitewomanstrodeupalongsidehim.Heseemedtobemeasuringsomethingwiththeinstrumentsinhishands.Then he appeared to communicate something to the young white woman by making a series of softmeadowlark like sounds, intermingled with a few dog-like barks. The young woman, smiled andrespondedpleasantly,“YoumustspeakEnglishwhenweareinthisclose.HespeaksonlyEnglish,andIdonotwanthimfrightened.”Range Four Harry responded respectfully, “Yes, teacher. The controls are holding, but he is more

intelligentthanweexpected.Youarecorrectinyourdesirenottofrightenhim.Wemustbeverycareful.Ifhebecomesagitated,hewillusehishighintelligencetodefeatourcontrolsandbreakout.”Hecontinued,“ItisfinewithmeiftheAmericangeneralandourambassadorcomeforwardnow.”Ashortpause followed.Then thegeneral, thecolonel, and thewhitecreatures standingnext to them

beganslowlyadvancingacrossthegraveledareatowardsthelounge.Behindthem,thesecondgroupofwhitecreatureswiththetalldignifiedoneinthecenteralsobegancomingforward.Thegeneralandhisparty were about half way across the graveled area when they stopped. The general called to thesergeants,“Smith.They’vegothimupherebehind the lounge.BringyourmenforwardandhelpHarryandtheteacheranywayyoucan.”SergeantSmithcouldbeheardbarkingcommandstohismen,“Johnson,youandJonescoverthewest

sideofthelounge.Standreadyjustbehindthatnorthwestcorner.Anderson,youandIwillcovertheeastsideofthelounge.Brown,standreadybyhistruck!Idon’ttrustthattrickydeserthardenedsoldier!Heshouldhavebrokeninpanic!Heshouldberunningbynow!He’suptosomethingandI’mnottakinganychances!”Then I could hear the sergeants double-timing into position.After aminute or so, sergeantsSmithandAndersoncouldbeheardarrivingatapositionontheeasternsideofthelounge.Aftercatchingtheirbreath,thetwoSergeantsslowlysteppedintoviewfromaroundthenortheastcornerofthebuilding.Smith,speakingslowlyandrespectfullytotheyoungwoman,stated,“Teacher,weareheretoassistyouandHarryinanymanneryouwish.Wouldyoulikeustotakecontrolofthesaidairman?”“No,” theyoungwoman responded, speakingEnglish. “Stepbackoutof sightbehind the lounge.He

mustnotbefrightened.”“Butwearehiskind,”sergeantSmithcalmlyobjected.“Heshouldknowthatweareherebesidehim,

andhe’sverybull-headed.Hemayneedagoodbeatingsothatheobeyshisorders,andI’llbehappytogivehimone.”Theyoungwomanrespondedproudly,obviouslyshowingahighleveloffemininepride,“Heisnotthe

slightestbitafraidofme,mydaughter,oranyofmycousins.Hehastrainedhimselftorelaxandstaycalmwheneverwearearound.Heismoreafraidofyouandyourofficersthanheisofus.Iamquitecertainthathewillnotneedabeatingwhenwearearound.”Whenshehadfinished,ashortpausefollowedwhilesergeantSmithconsideredwhattosaynext.This

obviouslyangeredRangeFourHarry.Stillfacingme,andwithoutturningaround,hestatedineventones,“You sergeants were told ‘No’. Now step back behind the corner of the building as the teacher hasordered.”Uponhearingthis,sergeantSmithflinchedinobviousfear.Hegrabbedthearmofthesergeantnextto

him.Thenheimmediatelysteppedbackbehindthecornerofthelounge,draggingtheothersergeantwithhimashedidso.Thenhecouldbeheardorderingtheothersergeanttotransmitsimilarorderstothetwosergeants hidden behind the opposite corner of the lounge. He could be heard saying, “Tell them to

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remembertheteacherhasorderedthemtostayoutofsightbehindthelounge.Rememberiftheydisobeytheteacher’sorders,shewillkillthemasshekilledtheothers,andthereisnothingIcandoaboutit!”Turningtowardsme,theteacherstatedpleasantly,“Charlie,pleasestepforwardthreesteps,awayfrom

thebuilding.”Notabletorefuse,Isteppedforwardthreestepsinmuchthesamemannerthatahypnotizedman might have. By now, the three star general and his party had reached the corner of the loungebuilding.Behindhim,thetalldignifiedchalkwhitemaleandhispartyweremorethanhalfwayacrossthegraveled square. Some members of the chalk white party had broken off, and appeared to be in theprocessofinspectingmyweathershack,mytheodolite,andthesurroundingbuildings.Turning towards the general and his party, the teacher stated, “I would like the parents and their

childrentomeetCharlie,now.”“Yes,teacher,”thegeneralrepliedrespectfully.“Gorightaheadwithanythingyouwish.”Thegeneral’s

partyandthepartywiththetalldignifiedmalebehindhimstoppedandwaitedpatientlywheretheywere.Another young tallwhitewomanwith a thin small son beside her stepped out frombehind the hiddenwesternsideofthelounge.Asecondyoungchalkwhitewomanwithasmallsonandalittlegirlbesidehersteppedoutfrombehindthehiddeneasternsideofthelounge.Hersonhadanoticeablyheavierbuildthantheotherchildren.Hisbuildwasmorelikethatofanordinaryhumanchild.Theteacheraddressedtheothertwowomen,bothofwhomappearedtobeaboutherage.“ThisisCharlieBaker,”theteacherstatedproudly.“Heisjustperfectformypetproject.Seehowgentleheis,andseehoweasilywecancontrolhim.”Ashortpausefollowed.Thentheyoungchalkwhitewomanstandingtotheeast,whilegigglingsome,

said,“Hesure isugly teacher,butmysonjust loves tofollowhimaround.Whenmysonwassicklastmonth,hekeptaskingifhecouldcomeoutandplaywithhim.”Alightlaughterwentthroughthecrowd.Eventhegeneralcouldbeheardlaughing.Thentheyoungwomancontinued,“Yes,teacher.Pleaseincludemysoninyourpetproject.”The young woman on the west remained standing silently, studying me intently. Then showing

remarkable calm, she asked pleasantly, “Did I understand you correctly, teacher? You say he is veryintelligent?Moreintelligentthanmostotherearthmen?”“Yes,”repliedtheteacher.“Charlieuseshisintelligencetothinkthingsthroughverycarefullybeforehe

takesaction,asyousawhimdoingtoday.Ibelievethatyoursonwilllearnagreatdealbystudyinghimcarefullyandseeinghowhedoesthings.Charlieisnotliketheotherweatherobservers.Heisverygentlearoundthechildren.HedoesmanyfunnyandlaughablethingsthatthechildrenandIenjoy.Healsokeepshisheadinanemergencybetterthananyotherearthmanthatwehaveseen.”Theotheryoungwomanthoughtforaminute.Thensheturnedtohertallthinson,wholookedvaguely

likeayoung,thinversionofEinstein.Sheasked,“Areyousureyouwanttodothis?Weareafreepeople.Youcansay‘No’ifyouwish.Youdonothavetodothis,youknow.”Thelittleboythoughtforaminuteorso.Thenherespondedhesitantly,“Yes,mother.Itwillbefun,and

Idonotwanttobeseparatedfrommyfriends.”“Alright,”repliedhismother,“Youmayjointheteacher’spetproject.Remember!Donotgettooclose

tohim, and remember, if anythingevergoeswrong, ifCharlie ever touchesyou, Iwill askyouruncleHarrytokillhim.”“Oh,donotworryaboutanything,”laughedtheteacher.“Yoursonwillhavethetimeofhislifeplaying

aroundhim.Charlieenjoysplayingaroundchildren,andyousawhoweasilywehavecontrolledhimthisafternoon.”Thentheteacherturnedtomeandstated,“Charlie,pleaseturntowardstheloungedoorway.”Not able to refuse, I complied. Then the teacher continued, “Charlie, pleasewalk into the lounge andstandbythedesk,facingthetelephone.”Onceagain,Icomplied.

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WhenIreachedthesoutheasterncornerofthedesk,Istopped,andstoodwaitingbythedeskthatheldthetelephone.RangeFourHarryfollowedinbehindme.Usinghisinstruments,heappearedtoswitchtheelectroniccontrolsfrommyright templetomyleft temple.Afterdoingthis,Harrytookupaguardlikeposition near the open front door, remaining always onmy left side. Then, upon a command from theteacher, tenor fifteenof thechalkwhitecreaturescalmlyentered the lounge.Mostof thementered thesecondroominthelounge,but twoof themjoinedHarryin thefirstroom,takingupsimilarguard-likepositions, oneonmy right andoneonmy left.Theyoungpre-teengirl remainedoutside,watchingmethroughthewindows.Thenthegeneralandthecolonelenteredtheroom.Theytookupstandingpositionsalongthewallbehindme.Afterafewminutes,thetalldignifiedchalkwhitemaleenteredandtookupastandingpositionalongside thegeneral.The teacher asked the sergeants to takeuppositionsout in thedesertsothattheyalsocouldobservetheceremonythroughthewindows.Atlast,theteacherenteredtheroom.Shebeganbyinspectingthearrangementofthecrowdinanauthoritativemanner.Shefeltthatthetall

whitemalewouldbemorecomfortableifthecrowdwererearrangedsomewhat.ShebeganbyhavingmeturnuntilIfacedtheeasternwall.ThenshehadmestepsidewaysandbackwardsseveralstepsuntilIwasmore centrally located. After the crowd had settled down, she began, obviously very proud of heraccomplishments so far. Speaking in both a proud and pleasant manner, she began by addressing thecrowd,“ThisisCharlieBaker.Heisextremelyintelligent.Heistheonewhosavedmylittlegirl’slifewhenshewaslostdownonrangeone.“Youmust bevery cautious andverygentlewhenyou are aroundhim.He is veryperceptiveof the

world so he frightens very easily. In many ways, he frightens far more easily than the other weatherobserversbeforehim.He likes to sitquietlyandenjoy thesightsandsounds in theworldaroundhim,muchaswedo,andthathasmadehimtheenjoyablepersonthatheis.“HebelievesinGod.Whenwecomeinclose,hebelievesthathisGodprotectshimfromus.Thatis

whyhehasnotpanicked today,even thoughhe is terrifiedofus.He is soperceptive thathe isalmostnevercompletelysurprisedwhenwecomeinclose.He is so frightened of us that he refuses to believe thatwe are real. Even so, he has accomplished

somethingthat thegeneralandIhaveneverseenbefore.Allbyhimself,hehas trainedhimself tocalmdownandrelaxwheneverI,mycousin,ormydaughter,comearound.Asyouallsawtoday,eventhoughheisterrifiedofus,heneverbecomeshysterical,orbreaksintopanicorrunswhenwecomearound.Asyouallsawtoday,hehastrainedhimselfsowell,thatwecancomeinascloseashisarmswillreach,andhe just stands there watching us, singing his favorite songs, thinking things through, and reciting hisprayers.”The teacher paused for a few minutes, obviously waiting for her words to sink in. Then the tall,

dignifiedchalkwhitemale,nowstandingmoreorlessbehindmeandtomyleft,spoketothegeneralonhisright.Ashespoke,Inoticedthathe, too, like the teacherandHarry,spokeperfectEnglish,withoutevenatraceofanaccent.Hesaid,obviouslyshowingafather’spride,“Mydaughterhasaccomplishedsomethingtrulyremarkable.Youknowgeneral,beforenow,Iwouldhaveneverthoughtitpossible.Ifmydaughterhadtriedtoapproachanyoftheothers,thewayshewalkedrightuptoCharlietoday,theywouldhavepanickedandwewouldhavehadtokillthemall.”“Yes, Mr. Ambassador,” replied the general respectfully. “I agree completely with you. Charlie is

different from the others. The day he saved your little granddaughter down on range one, he provedhimself tobeoneyoungtough-nosedquick thinkingdeserthardenedsoldier.Thatbrutalyoungmancanhandle anything you or your people feel like putting him through. I believe he is just perfect for yourdaughter’sproject.”

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Theambassadornoddedpolitelyinagreement.Thenhestated,“Nowitistimeforustothankhim.”Thegeneralreplied,“Iamintotalagreementwithanythingyouwishtodo,Mr.Ambassador.AsI’m

certainyoualreadyknow,wewereallhappywhenhesavedyourlittlegranddaughter’slife,andwehavealready thanked him plenty. I gave him several days of free medical leave and let him have fun atgovernmentexpensedowninLosAngeles.I’mcertainyouarealsowellawarethatitwasaneasythingforthattoughyoungmuscularsoldiertotrampledownsomesagebrushandscareoffafewrattlesnakes.Heiswellabletohandleanythingthat livesoutonrangeone.I’malsocertainyouknowwell,hewasonlydoinghismilitaryduty.”“Yes,”repliedtheambassador.“ButIhaveonlyonedaughterandonlyonegranddaughter.Theothers

would have panicked, disobeyed your orders, and ran away, leavingmy only granddaughter to die interroroutthereinthesagebrush.Thisoneovercamehisfears.Thisonecameback.Thisonesavedher.Imustthankhimpersonally.Itisourway.”Theteacherorderedmetoturnaroundandfacetheambassador.ApparentlyafraidthatIwouldpanic,

shealsoorderedmetostandlookingdownattheconcretefloorinfrontofhim.SlightlyhypnotizedasIwas,Icompliedimmediately.Thentheambassador,speakingincalmeventones,said,“CharlieBaker.Thankyouforsavingmygranddaughter’slife.Ihaveonlyonechildandonlyonegrandchild.YourheroicactionshavepleasedmemorethanIamabletodescribe.Ihaveorderedmypeopletolearnyournameandtolearntorecognizeyoubysight.Youwillneverhaveanythingtofearfrommykind.”Iwasunabletorespond.Theteacherorderedmetoturnandfacetheopenfrontdoor.Thenshetoo,thankedme,saying,“Thank

you,CharlieBaker,forsavingmylittlegirl.SheisnamedPlayfulButterfly.Shemeanseverythingtome.Idon’tknowhowIcouldhavelivedwithouther.”Thentheteacher’slittlegirlcameinthroughtheopendoor.Sheapproachedtowithin6feetofmeand

stated, using perfect English, “Thank you, Charlie Baker, for saving my life and returning me to myparents.IshouldhavethankedyoubeforebutIwasafraidofyou.Itwassillyofmetobeafraidofyou.Ilovetoplayaroundyounow,andIamnotafraidofyouanymore.”HypnotizedasIwas,Iwasunabletorespond.Thentheambassadorturnedtowardstheteacherandstatedinfatherlytones,“Yes,daughter.Youmay

proceedwithyourpetproject.IagreethatCharlieisaperfectchoice.”Theteachersmiledinreturnandanswered,“ThankYou,Father.”Then theambassadorandhispartywalkedout through theopen loungedoor, turned to the right,and

disappearedfromview,hiddenby thefeaturelesseasternwallof the lounge.Thenseveralof thechalkwhitecreaturesfromthesecondroomleftthebuilding,studyingmyfacecloselyastheydidso.However,several young chalkwhitewomenwhowere in the second room informed the teacher that theywereafraidtoleavethebuildingbecauseIwasveryugly.Theywereafraidtopassbysocloselyinfrontofme.Theteacherrespondedbylaughing.Thentheteacherorderedmetowalkovertothedesk,andstandfacingthesoutheasterncorneroftheroom.Thenthewomenthankedtheteacherprofusely,andhurriedlyleftthebuilding.Thegeneralandthecolonelvisuallycheckedthesecondroomtoinsurethatitwasempty.Thentheyleft

thebuildinganddisappearedfromview,headingtowardstheeast.Theytookthesergeantswiththemasthey left. Sergeant Smith could be heard barking orders to the other sergeants, “Brown! Anderson!Johnson!Jones!Abandonyourpostsandformupwithmehereonthebunkerroad!!TODAY,gentleman!!”Thenthetwowhiteguardslefttheroominamilitaryfashion,andfellbacktowardstheeastaswell,

leavingonlytheteacherandHarryintheroomwithme.Theteacherinafriendlymannerwhilefacingme,said, “Thank you, Charlie Baker. You have helped both of our governments more than you will ever

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know.”Thenshetoo,leftthebuildinganddisappearedfromview,headingbacktowardstheeast,leavingonly

Harryalone in the roomwithme. Inabrotherlymanner,Harrysaid,“Charlie.Pleasesingoneofyourfavorite songs for me, and please stand there in the corner until you have finished it. You know, theteacherandIalwaysenjoyhearingyousing.”Unabletorefuse,Icalmlybegansingingoneofmyfavoritesongs.IhadjustbegunwhenHarry,standing

some10feetfromme,pointedhiselectronicinstrumentdirectlyatmyexposedlefttempleandactivatedthe instrument. A gentle shudder seemed to go through my body. Once again my mind wandered andseemed togo intoadaze. It tookmea fewminutes togetcontrolofmy thoughtsagain.When I finallyregained control ofmy thoughts, I was still standing by the desk, singingmy song and looking at thecorner.Ifeltnumballoverandalittleshaky.Iseemedtohavemissedafewlinesofmysong.Icouldhearthe footsteps of someone outside on the sidewalk,walking away.Even though Iwas shaky, somewhatnumb,andstunned,itwasimmediatelyapparenttomethatIwasnolongerhypnotizedandthatInowhadtotalcontrolovermyself.Istoodtherebythedesk,singingmysong.WhenIhadfinished,Iremainedstandingthere.Ittookme

severalminutestoovercomemyintenseanxiety,innerfears,andtoregaincontrolovermymusclesagain.Finally,Iturnedaroundslowlyandstoodwithmybackinthecorner,facingtheemptyroomwithitsopenfront door. Through the windows, out in the distance, perhaps a thousand feet out on the sagebrushcovered ridge, I could see the chalk white eighth grade girl. She stood out there, mostly concealed,watchingmefromadistance.Fearful,confused,andshakynow,Iwatchedherforseveralminutes.Thegentledesertbreezesstillsoftlywhisperedthroughtheopenlounge.Stillfilledwithfearandanxietyandalittlesicktomystomach,Iarrangedtwoof thenearbychairs toformadefensivelineinfrontofme.Stillshakinginfear,Ipickedupmycanteenandcanteenbeltthatlayonthedesk.Itookthecanteenfromthebeltandcarefullyattached it tomymilitary fatiguebelt.Theweightof thiscanteen,alongwith theweightof thefirstcanteenthatIhadpreviouslyattachedtomywaist,wastoomuchformythinfatiguebelt.Itslippedthefrictionbuckleandfelltothefloor,alongwithmyfatiguepants,leavingmestandingthereinmyundershorts.Iwastoonervoustolaughattheobviousspectacle.I hurriedlypulledupmypants and re-closedmy fatiguebelt, leavingonlyone canteenon it.Then I

wrappedthecanteenbeltaroundmyrighthand,intendingtouseitasaweapon.Withmylefthand,Itookholdofthesecondcanteenandstoodwaitingtobeattacked.Afterstandingtherefortenminutesorso,Ibegantorealizethatexceptforme,theloungereallywascompletelyempty.Therereallywasn’tanythingintheloungethatwasgoingtoattackme.Still,therealizationwasalongtimecoming.Keepingmybackagainsttheeasternloungewall,stillshakingandfeelingnumb,Ibeganslowlyedgingtowardstheopenfront door. I began calling out loudly, towards the second room as I did so, “Is anyone there? Am Ialone?”Onlythegentledesertbreezesansweredmyquestions.Iwasabouthalfway to the frontdoorwhen thephoneon thedeskbegan to ring.Expecting it tobe

Dwight,Ihurriedbacktothedesk,keepingmybacktothewallandfacingtheopenfrontdoorasIdidso.Pickingupthephone,Ianswerednervously,“Hello,loungethree.”Thevoiceon theotherend,soundedalmostexactly likemyfriendSteve.“Charlie,” thevoicestated

pleasantly,“Thepartyisover.Youcangobacktobeing‘Yourselfagain.”Takenin,andthinkingIwasspeakingtomyfriendSteve,Ibeganshoutingintothephone,“Steve!Thank

Godit’syou!Ineedyourhelp.I’mtrappedouthereintherangethreelounge.Gettherangeratsandthepowerwagons,andcomegetmeNOW!HaveWayneandtheguysstaydownbytherangethreegatelikeyoualwaysdo.Justbringonepowerwagonbeyondthegate.BringitaroundtothefrontoftheloungesoIcanjumpin.I’mtrappedinhere.HURRY!”

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Laughingpleasantly,thevoiceontheotherendofthelinesaid,“Juststaycalm,Charlie.Steveandtherange rats are still down at Desert Center. You are totally alone out here, and you are in no dangerwhatever.Weareallpullingout.Everythingouthereisyourstoplaywith,alone,fortherestoftheday.”“Steve?Isthatyou?”Iscreamedintothephone,“Steve?”Butthepersonontheotherendjustslowly

hungup.Anemptylineansweredmyscreams.Islammeddownthephoneandstoodreadytobeattacked.AfterIhadcaughtmybreath,steadiedmynerves,andafewmoreminuteshadgoneby,IdecidedtotrytophonemyfriendDwightatDesertCenter.Keepingmybackinthecorner,andfacingtheopenfrontdoor,Ipicked up the phone, and carefully dialed theDesertCenterweather station. The phone seemed to beworkingcorrectly.However,InoticedthatthephonewasansweredbeforeIhadactuallyhearditring.Iwas suspicious, at first, but the person on the other end sounded almost exactly like my good friendDwight.“Charlie,”heansweredlaughing,“Golly,it’sgoodtohearfromyou,fella’.Youbetterhurryandgetbackintobaseoryou’llbemissingeveningchowatthemesshall.You’vehadonefineafternoon,guy.TheDesertCenterbasecommanderhasorderedyourfriendSmokeytohaveanicesteakdinnerwaitingforyoudownattheWellschowhall,Charlie.”“Dwight?” I shouted into thephone. “Something’s happened. I’m trappedout here in the range three

lounge.They’reoutsidewaitingforme.YougottotellSteve!Dwight,youhavetotelltherangeratstocomegetme!”Thevoiceontheotherendrespondedbylaughingpleasantly,“Golly,Charlie.Yousureareacard.This

is thebestpractical jokeIhaveeverseenanyonetrytoplayonme.YouknowthatDesertCenterbasecommanderwasinhereattheweatherstation,justafewminutesago.Golly,hesurewasimpressedwithyourwork, Charlie. I personally saw him handing themajor a great big award for you. Then hewastellingthemajorhowimpressedthePentagonwaswiththewayyouhavebeenkeepingtherangescleanand ship shape and everything. I am certain the general has ordered your friend Smokey to prepare areallynicebigsteakdinnerforyou.I’lljustbethehasitwaitingforyourightnowdowninthechowhall.Thegeneralsaidtheywereallsohappywithwhatyoudid,thatyoudonotevenhavetolockuporshutdownoranything.So,hurryup,getovertoyourtruck,andgoheadonintothechowhall,Charlie.Steveandyourfriendswillcomeoutandcloseeverythingdowntomorrow.”“Dwight?”Ishouted,nowindisbelief.“Isthisreallyyou?”“Ofcourse,it’sme,Charlie,”laughedthevoiceontheotherend.“Whoelsewoulditbe?Hey,Ihave

gottogonow,guy.YouknowIhavetobedowntowninafewminutestopickupmywifefromwork,soIhavegottohurry.Youheadonintochow,Charlie.Alloftherunsarecancelledfortomorrow.WewilllaughsomemoreonThursday.”With that, thevoiceontheotherendof thephonelineslowlyhungup,leavingmetalkingtothedialtone.Stunnedandconfused, I stoodholding thephone, remembering theperfectEnglish, remembering that

Dwightownedtwocars,andthatDwight’swifewasproudtospendhertimebeingahousewife,whodidnotworkoutsideherhome.Istoodwatchingtheopenfrontdoorforseveralminutes,tryingtodecidewhattodonext.Afterseveralminutes,Islowlyhungupthephone.Itwasobviousthatonceagain,Iwastotallyonmyown.Iquicklyassembledmycanteensandequipment,andmyfailing,vegetablecourage.Withmybackagainsttheeasternloungewall,Ibeganslowlyworkingmywaytowardstheopenfrontdoor.IkeptcallingoutasIdidso,“Isanyonethere.Isthisplaceempty?Standback,allofyou.I’mcomingout.”Onlyechoesofftheemptyinnerwallsansweredmycalls.Reaching the open front door, I anxiously moved over to the door to the inner second room. The

windowsstoodopen,andtheroomwasempty.Quickly,Iclosedandlockedtheopenfrontdoor.ThenIretreated into the second inner room and closed and locked its inner door. Barricaded now into thelounge,Ibegancautiouslyandcarefullycheckingoutside.Thedesertseemedemptyenough.About1000

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feet out in thedesert, out on the sagebrush covered ridgeoff to thenorthwest, partially concealed, theeighth grade girl stood motionless, watching me from afar. Up along the mountains to the northeast,perhapsamileandahalfinthedistance,Icouldseethethreestargeneralandthecolonelstandingthereinanopen,exposedposition,alsowatchingmefromafar.ThegeneralandthecolonelobviouslyintendedthatIshouldseethem.Therangesappearedtobeotherwisedeserted.Ithadbeenalongtiringafternoon.Bynowitwaspast4:00p.m.Iwasverytired,stillshaky,andstill

feeling a little numb. Feeling temporarily secure barricaded in the lounge as I was, I more or lesscollapsed into thesoftchair torest.Theroomwaswarmandquiet.Thechairwasverycomfortable. Iwasverytired,andIfellasleepforashortwhile.Forty-fiveminutes or sowent by as I slept. Itwas going on 4:45 p.m. in the afternoonwhen Iwas

awakenedout ofmy sleepby the soundof footsteps outside on the sidewalk. “Is anyoneout there?” Icalled out, still half asleep, andwaking up slowly. The footsteps could be heard double timing awaytowardstheeast.AsIbegantoshakethesleepinessfrommybodyandmyeyes,offinthedistancetotheeastIcouldhearoneofthesergeantsshoutinginsubduedtones,“Tellthegeneralhe’sallright.He’sstillintheresleeping.”Theninthedistanceofftotheeast,IcouldhearsergeantSmithbarkingback,“Goodwork,Anderson.

Now let’s get backupby thegeneral beforeweupset the teacher.”Then the silenceof thegentle lateafternoonbreezesreturned.Isatthererelaxinginthechairforafewminutesthinkingthingsthrough.Istillfeltalittlenumbinmy

body, and I wasn’t in any hurry tomove. Off in the other room I could hear the phone ringing, but Idecided Iwasbetteroffnotanswering it, so I just let it ring forawhile. Itwasnow4:55p.m. in theafternoon.AsIsattherewatchingtheafternoonshadowsslowlyprogressacrossthedesertandacrossthesagebrushoutside,IrealizedthatIhadadecisiontomake.WhetherIlikeditornot,Iwasgoingtohavetocomeoutofmybarricadedlounge,facewhateverwasoutside,andfightmyway,ifnecessary,backintobase.Therewassimplynootherway.Drinkingthe lastof thewater inoneofmycanteens, Iwasnowdowntojustonecanteenofwater.Notenoughtolastmethroughanotherday.IhadnofoodwithmeandIwasstarting togethungry.Theheatof thisdaywasstarting topassand thecoolereveninghourswereapproaching.Anotherproblemwasthattheloungehadoutdoorplumbing.Therewassimplynootherway.IdecidedthatifIwasevergoingtomakemymove,Ishouldmakeitnow.Isattherequietlyrestingforafewmoreminutes, formulating a plan. I didn’t expectmy truck to be inworking order. After all, thesergeantshadspentmostoftheafternoonkeepingmefromit.SoIexpectedthatIwasgoingtohavetospendthenightwalkingbackintotown.Sinceitwassome22milesaway,IwasgoingtoneedmorethantheonecanteenofwaterthatIhadwithme,ifIwasgoingtomakeitalive.RememberingthatIhadathirdcanteeninmyweathershack,andagallonjarofwaterinmytruck,IdecidedIcouldn’tleavetherangethreeareawithoutfirstgettingatleasttwomorecanteensofwater,fightingtogetthemifIhadto.Mymindmadeup,Islowlystoodup,stretched,adjustedmyuniform,retiedmymilitaryboots,wrapped

theemptycanteenbeltaroundmyrighthand,andpreparedforbattleasbestIcould.ThenIbegancallingoutinloudtonesthroughtheopenwindows,“Isanyoneoutthere?Ifyouare,youhadbettergetoutofherenow.ThistimeImeanbusiness.I’mcomingoutnow,onewayortheother.I’mwarningyou.I’mreadytofight.Soifanyofyouareoutthere,youbettertakeoffrunningnow.”Approximatelyamileandahalfoffto thenortheast,onthesideof themountain,Icouldstillsee thegeneralandthecolonelstandingtherewatching me. Behind them stood two sergeants. The other three sergeants were just arriving, havingdouble-timed down the bunker road to the ammunition bunker, and then north along the base of themountaintowherethegeneralandthecolonelstoodwaiting.Sincethismeantthatatleastthreeofthefivesergeantswouldbetootiredtopursuemefromsuchagreatdistance.Idecidedthetimetomakemymove

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hadarrived.First,Itookaminuteorsotoslowlyrecitemyprayersandgetmyselfreadyforaction.ThenIquicklyclosedtheopenwindows.Next,aftervisuallycheckingthefirstroomandthesidewalkoutside,tomakecertaintheywereempty,Ijerkedopentheinnerdoorandthenthefrontdoor,steppedoutside,andslammed theouterdoor shutbehindme.Onceoutside in the freshair Idouble timed straightnorth forabout30feetoutintotheemptysagebrush,noticingthemanybootprintsinthesoftdirtasIdidso.ThenIcircledwestuntilIwasoutinthesagebrushperhaps200feetwestofthelounge.IwasshoutingoutintotheemptydesertasIdidso,“Stayoutofmyway.Everybody,stayoutofmyway.I’mgoingbackintobaseandnoneofyouaregoingtostopme.Doyouhearme?”Thedesertandthesagebrushbeyondwerequiteempty.Therewasnothinginmyway,nosergeants,no

chalkwhitecreatures,notevenajackrabbittoslowmedown.Ittookawhilefortheshockofmysolitudetosinkin.OnceIwassome200feetorso,westoftherangethreelounge,Ibeganquicklydouble-timingsouththroughthesagebrushparallelwiththelounge’swestwalluntilIwasdirectlyoppositemytruck.Istoppedforafewminutestosurveytherangethreearea.Itwasquitedeserted.Boththefrontdoorandthefarsidedoortomyweathershackstoodopen.Nearertome,thesouthdoortothegeneratorshackalsostoodopen,althoughthedieselsinsidehadbeenshutdown.MytruckwasstillinthesamepositionthatIhadleftitearlierintheday.Itsatonthegravelinvitingme,oppositethenorthwestcornerofthegeneratorshack,facingnorthwiththewindowonthedriver’ssiderolleddown.Partiallyconcealed,outalongthesagebrush covered ridge, now some1200 feet northofme, the chalkwhite eighthgradegirl remainedpartiallyconcealed,watchingmecarefully.Outalongthebaseofthemountainstothenortheast,perhapsamileandahalfdistantfromme,thegeneral,thecolonel,andthefivesergeantsstoodwatchingme.Theywerespreadoutalongthebaseofthemountain,stillobviouslyintendingthatIshouldseethem.IwasstillcertainthatIwouldhavetohikebackintotown.Iwasthinkingofmytruckonlyastheplace

where I had stored my extra water. I obviously needed the extra water frommy truck, and the extracanteenfrommyweathershack,ifIintendedtomakeitbackintotownonfoot.Isurveyedtherangethreeareacarefully.Bymovingseveralfeetbackandforth,Iwasabletoconvince

myself that the generator shack was empty. Then, to protect myself from any surprises in that area, Isuddenlyrusheduptotheopengeneratorshackdoorandslammeditclosed.ThenIretreatedbacktomyopenpositionoutinthesagebrush,some200feetwestofmytruck.Now feeling somewhatmore secure, I addressed the problemof retrieving the extrawater frommy

truckandmyextracanteenfrommyweathershack.Ispentafewminutesstudyingthedesertedrangethreearea.Deciding itwas safe todoso, I approachedmy truck inacautiousandgingerlymanner.My fullgallonjarofwaterstilllayinashadedareaontheflooronthepassengersidewhereIhadleftitearlierintheday.Carefully,Iopenedthedooronthedriver’sside.Iwasnotexpectingmytrucktostillbeinworkingorder.IfeltcertainthatmytruckhadbeenleftsittingwhereIhadleftit,aspartofsometypeofelaboratetrap.Carefully,Icrawledoverthedriver’sseatandretrievedthegallonjarofwater.Returningtothegraveloutside,Itookaquickdrinkofwaterandcarefullyrefilledmycanteens.Ibeganfeelingsafernowthattherangethreeareastillappearedtobedeserted.Carryingmytwofullcanteens,Icautiouslywalkedovertomyweathershack,shoutingloudlyasIdid

so. Ipausedfora fewminutesandcarefullysurveyedmyweathershackfromashortdistanceoutside.Feeling a little braver, I gingerly stepped up intomy shack, closed and locked the side door. Then IgrabbedmythirdcanteenhangingfromthehookwhereIhadleftit.Myhandswerestillalittlenumbandshaking.Thecanteenslippedoutofmyhandsandfellharmlesslytothefloor.Ittookmeafewminutestostop shaking, pick up the canteen, and get control again. Then I quickly stepped back outside andresurveyedmymilitarysituation.Therangethreeareawasstilldeserted.Withmynervesstilla littlenumbfromfearandmymuscles

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stillshaking,itwasobvioustomethatIwouldneverbeabletohikethe22milesbackintotown.Withnohelpcoming,itwaswithacertaingrimnessthatIconcludedmytruckwasmyonlychanceforgettingbackinto Mojave Wells. Therefore, I closed and locked up my weather shack. Then, trap or no trap, Icautiouslyre-approachedmytruck.Itprobablytookme10minutestoconvincemyselfthatitwassafeformetoagainopenthedooronthedriver’sside,placemycanteensinonthefrontseat,andclimbintothedriver’sposition.Whenthetruckstartednormally,Iwassosurprisedthatittookanotherfewminutesformetodecidewhattodonext.Finallygettingmytruckintogear,Ibeganheadingslowlybackintotown.Iwasstillfeelingalittlenumballoverandmymuscleswerestillshaking,soinitiallyIdroveveryslowly.For the first fifteenminutesor so, I stayed in lowgearand idledalongat10milesperhour.Thenmyshakinessbegantosubside,andIfinallygotitintosecondgear.WhenIgotbacktotherangethreegate,IwasgladtofinditopeneventhoughIwascertainthatIhadcloseditwhenIhadcomeoutearlierintheday. I continued on in towards base, passing through the section of the roadwhere the sagebrushwasunusually high.That section of the tripwas unusually frightening and nerve racking, but actually quiteuneventful.Whentheroadreachedthenorthsideoftherunway,itwasallIcoulddotokeepmyselffromjust parkingmy truck and running the rest of theway, straight across the runway, in to base. The laststretchofroad,whichfollowedaroundtheeasternendof therunway,past the intersection to therangeone road, I found absolutely terrifying. I was certain thatmy everymovement was beingwatched bysomethingwhiteoutinthesagebrush,butnothingactuallyappearedtobeoutofplace.Still,itwaswithgreatreliefthatIfinallyarrivedatthemaingatetotheranges.Myhandswerestillalittlenumbandveryshaky,butotherwise Ihadno trouble stoppingmy truck,gettingout,opening themaingate,andgettingbackintomytruck.Afterpullingmytruckthroughthefinalgate,Istoppedandclosedthegatebehindme.Now,forthefirsttime,Istartedtorelaxandbreatheeasier.Bynow, itwasalmost7:30 in theevening,wellpast thenormalclosing time for thechowhall.My

emptystomachwas remindingme that Ihadmissedeveningchow. Igotback inmy truck.Moreoutofhungerthananything,IheadedonuptowardstheMojaveWellschowhall.Now,atlast,Ibegantolaughoffmysillynamelessfears,theunusualsupposedhallucinationsthatIhadexperiencedinthehotsunshine,and the generally laughable level ofmy failing vegetable courage. “Remember, I’m the brave one,” Ilaughedtomyself.“Godhelptheothers,”IlaughedasIdroveslowlyacrossbase.BythetimeIgotpastthemotorpoolandintothebarrackssectionIwasbacktomyoldself.Iwasnowlaughingandsingingloudly.“Yes,”IsaidtomyselfasItookadeepbreathandfinallygottotalcontrolofmyshakingmusclesagain,“It’sgoodtobeback.MaybeoneofthesedaysmyhallucinationswillkillmebutI’mnotgoingtoletfearruinthisbeautifulday.”WhenIarrivedattheMojaveWellschowhall,tomysurprise,thechowhallwasstillopen.Iparked

mytruckoutsideandhurriedtogetinside.IcalledouttomyfriendSmokeyasIenteredthechowhallandcarefullyclosedthescreendoorbehindme.Assoonasthescreendoorhadfinishedclosing,IsawmyfriendSmokey.Hewasstandingnearlyfrozeninfearbehindthefarendof theserving line,next to thecleanandemptycoffeemaker.Ontheservingline,offtohisrightstoodastillwarm,sealedsteelthermosfullofcoffeeandalargebrownsacklunch.Hehadahalffulltrayofpackagedcrackersquaresinfrontofhim.Hestoodtherecontinuallyrearrangingthecrackersquaresintoneatlittlegroups.Hedidn’tlookupor react to my presence as I came in. He continued slowly, smoothly, and endlessly rearranging thepackagesofcrackers,asthoughhypnotized,allthewhilequietlyhummingalittletune.Behindhimstoodtheopendoorway to thekitchenand theback storageareasof thechowhall.Through theopendoor Icouldseetherestofthechowhall.Itstoodempty,stillcleanandspotless.Fromtheappearanceofthecrackerpackages,itwasimmediatelyobvioustomethatSmokeyhadbeenstandingthereforalongtime,endlesslyrearrangingthefewpackagesofcrackers infrontofhim.Seeingthathewas indeeptrouble,

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moreterrifiedthananyhumancanhandlebyhimself,Iapproachedhimslowly.Then,speakingsoftlyandnaturally,Isaidtohim,“Here,Smokey,letmegiveyouahandwiththosecrackers.”Hedidn’trespondbutjustcontinuedasbefore.IslowlycamearoundbehindtheservinglineuntilIwasstandingnexttohim,facinghimfromtheside.Understandinghisterror,Icontinuedgently,“Here,Smokey,I’llwatchyourbackwhileyoufinisharrangingthosecrackers.Don’tworry,Smokey.It’sme,Charlie. I’mrightherebesideyou,guardingyourback.”ThenIgentlyplacedmyhandonthebackofSmokey’sshoulders.Smokey, still rearranging the crackers, responded slowly, still humming. When he finally spoke, it

soundedasthoughhewerespeakingfromsomeplacefaraway,“Isthatyou,Charlie?Isthatyoubesideme?”“Yes, Smokey,” I responded gently. “It’sme Charlie. I’m here in the flesh, big as life. I’m here to

protectyou,Smokey.I’mheretoguardyourbackwhileyoufinishrearrangingthosecrackers.Assoonasyoufinish,Smokey,youandIwilltakethatsacklunchandthatthermosofcoffeeoutside.We’llhaveusapicniconthegrassoutbehindthechowhall.We’llreallyhaveussomefun.Untilthen,Smokey,I’mrightherebesideyou.I’mrightheretoprotectyou.”Smokeydidn’trespondatfirst,butcontinuedasbefore.Thenhecontinuedslowly,“It’slate,Charlie.

Youshould leave.YoushouldsaveyourselfwhileIhold themback.They’reout there in theback,youknow,Charlie.They’reoutthereintheback,behindme.”Smokey’sresponseleftmeconfused.Ithoughtforaminuteorso,wonderingwhattodonext.Thechow

hallhadacertainquiet,attractive,desertedbeauty.Throughtheopendoorway,thespotlesssunlitkitchenstoodobviouslydeserted.Thelateafternoonsuncastlongbeautifulshadowsthroughthewindowsonitssouth andwest sides. The golden red sunshine created beautiful patterns of nearly fluorescent orangehighlightson thehighlywaxed floor.As I studied the redandgolden fieldswhere the sunshineplayedquietly on the highly buffed wax, a certain understanding of Smokey’s problem quietly invaded myconsciousness.There,onthehighlywaxedfloor,exposedbythelateafternoonsunshine,couldbeseentheboot prints of a young adult and two young children.Off to the left, in the corner by the stove,wereanothersetofadultbootprints,nexttoalargewindowwhichstoodopenwithitsscreensremovedandbootprintsinfrontofit,noneofthebootprintscouldhavebeenmadebySmokey.Notsurewhattodonext,IturnedtoSmokeyandstated,“Youknow,Smokey,itlookstomelikeyou

coulduse somemorecrackers for thatpan there in frontofyou.”Then Ibentdownandbeganmakingsomeloudnoisesusingtheslidingaluminumdoorstothestoragebinthatwasbelowtheservingline.ItseemedtohelpSmokey.Hismusclesseemedtobeginrelaxingandlooseningup,soIcontinuedmakingnoise.Thestoragebinwasempty.Standingupagainandlaughingmildly,Iexclaimed,“Shucks,Smokey!Thatstoragebinisempty.WhatsayIjustquickjumpbacktheretothatbackpantryontherightandgetsomemorecrackers!Wantme toclose thatopenwindowby thestovewhile I’mback there?”Withoutwaitingforananswer,Iturnedtowardstheopendoorandbeganslowlyheadingintothekitchenbeyond.Smokeybeganlooseningnoticeably.Raisinghisvoiceslightly,andobviouslygettingalittlecontroloverhimself,heexclaimed,“No,Charlie.Don’tgobackthere.Itisn’tsafebackthere,Charlie.”“Why,Smokey?”Igentlyasked.“Whyisn’titsafebackthere?Whatisitthat’sbackthere?”Smokey’s muscles continued to loosen noticeably. He began to move his legs some, and started to

exercisehisarmsmore,allthetimestillarrangingthecrackers.“They’rebackthere,Charlie.Don’tgobackthere.You’llscarethemlikeIdid.They’llkillyouifyouscarethem.Theytoldmeso.Thattalloneinthecorner,hetoldmeso.Hesaidhe’dkillmeifIeverscaredtheirchildrenagain.”Istoppedandwaitedinthekitchendoorwayforafewminutes.Thekitcheninthebackwasobviously

deserted.Whoeverhadbeentherewaslonggone.MyproblemwasmyneedtohelpSmokey.Ipausedforafewminutes,thinkingthingsthroughcarefully.ThenIcontinued,“I’mgladyouwarnedme,Smokey.Was

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hetheonewhotoldyoutoarrangethecrackers?”“Yes,”repliedSmokeynowshowingsomeemotionashecontinuedtoloosenup.“Andyou’vewornoutalmostallofthosecrackers,haven’tyou?”Icontinued.“Yes,”repliedSmokey,nowstartingtoshowdeepemotion.“Sothey’llunderstandthatyouneedmorecrackers,won’tthey?”Iconcluded.Smokeywasnowbecomingtooemotionaltoanswer.“Here,Smokey,I’lljustgetthoseextracrackers

andbe rightback.Thensingingoneofmysongs loudlyoverandover, I strolledbravelyback into thedesertedkitchen,acrossthehighlypolishedopenfloortooneofseveralpantriesinthebackthatheldadozenorsomilitarysizedboxesofcrackers.SingingloudlytoreassureSmokey,Iquicklypickedalargeboxfromtheshelf.Stillsinging,Istrolledbravelybackacrosstheopenkitchenfloor,visitingandclosingthe openwindow as I did so. “There’s nobody back here butme, Smokey.” I shouted out loudly as Iclosedthewindow.“ThisplaceisasdesertedasachurchinGreenBayonfootballSunday.”AsIstrolledbackthroughtheopenkitchendoor,IcouldseethatSmokeywasbecomingveryemotional

asheprogressivelygotbetter controlofhimself. I dropped thebigboxof crackersdownon the floorbeside him, making lots of noise as I did so. Then I noisily ripped open the cover and triumphantlyannounced, “Here, Smokey.Nowwe’ve got us lots of crackers!”Then I grabbed a big handful of thesmallcrackerpackagesandcarefullydumpedthemintothepaninfrontofSmokey,makingloudnoisesasIdidso.Smokeyrespondedat last,bycompletelybreakingdownemotionally.Lettinggoat last,of thecrackerpackages,hegrabbedontomyrightarmwithbothofhisarmsandhands,anddraggingmyarminto his body for security, he began crying and screaming, “Charlie, you’ve come! Thank God, you’vecome!”Puttingmyleftarmaroundhisshoulders,Igavehimabigstrong,brotherlyhug,andansweredgently,

“Yes,Smokey.It’sme.I’vecomeforyou.”SupportingSmokeywithmyleftarm,andtakingthecoffeeandsacklunchinmyright,IhelpedSmokeyoutfrombehindtheservingline,acrosstheopenchowhallfloorto thefrontdoor,andout into thesunshine.Reaching thefrontofmy truck, Iplaced thesack lunchandcoffeeonthehoodandhelpedSmokeysitdownonthefrontbumper.Hesatthereforalongtime,hisheadin his hands, crying in agony and in terror, until at last he finally got hold of himself. I stood by him,rubbingthebackofhisshoulders,pouringhimsomecoffee,andholdingitforhimsohewouldn’tspillit.“Iwascomingforyou,Charlie,”hecried.“Iwascomingforyouliketheyordered.Iwaswaitingway

uptheroadtowardsWillowflats,upbythatsergeanttheypostedupthere,justlikethegeneralordered.Along about 4:00 p.m. in the afternoon, they orderedme to comeget you.They said you needed yourfriendSmokeytogetyoulaughingagain.Iwascomingforyou,Charlie!GodknowsIwascoming.Itookoffrunningtowardsthechowhall.Withoutthinking,Idisobeyedorders.Theytoldmenottogobackintothechowhall.Theysaidjust takethetruckandcomegetyou,butIcamebackintoget thiscoffeeandthesesandwichesthatIhadmadeupforyou,andtheywereinhere.Theywerealloverinhere,andtheywereoutintheback,lookingthroughthepantryandeverywhere.Iwenttopieces,Charlie.BeforeIknewwhatwashappening,oneofthemcameupbehindme.Ibecamehystericalandbeganscreaming.Thenmymindcame totallyunglued. Itwas likeIwas inadream.Icouldn’tcontrolanythingIwasdoing.All Icoulddowasobeytheirordersandstandthere,Charlie,likeyousawme,untilyoucame.ThankGodyoucame,Charlie.ThankGodyoucame.Idon’t

knowhowIcaneverthankyou.”PattingSmokeygentlyonthebackofhisshoulders,Iresponded,“Iunderstand,Smokey.Iunderstand

completely.”AfterSmokeyfinallygotholdofhimself, laughing,Isaid,“Youknow,Smokey,forall theAirForcehasputusboththroughtoday,weshouldcookusupacoupleofnicesteaks,andhaveusonenicepicnicrightouthereonthegrass.There’snobodyelseonbasebutustwo.Nobodywouldeverknow

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howmuchfunwehadatAirForceexpense.Ifanyoneeveraskedaboutthetwomissingsteaks,justsaythatItookbothofthemouttotherangesduringthewhitewolfinspection.Whatsay,eh,Smokey?”BeforeSmokeycouldrespond,Iexclaimedhappily,“Great.I’llgogetacoupleofsteaksoutofthefreezerandget that stove firedup.You finishdrinking that coffee and then comeon in and showmehow to cookthem.”Smokeythoughtthingsthroughforaminute.Thenabiggrincrossedhisface.Finally,backtohisold

self,hebeganchuckling,andresponded,“Yousurearesomething,Charlie.You’deatyourwaythroughastretchinhell,wouldn’tyou?”Laughing,Iresponded,“You’reright,Smokey,butwhatelseistheretodouphereuntiltherestofthe

men come back from Desert Center? The guards are off the front gate. We got this whole base toourselves.Thetwoofusaregoingtohavetospendtherestofthenighttogetherforourownprotection,untilwegetmoreguysbackhereonbase.I’mhungry.Wemightaswellspendsomeof the timeeatingsomeofthosefreegovernmentsteaksinthefreezer.”Laughingoutloudatlast,Smokeystoodupandshouted,“You’reright,Charlie!Theyoweus!Theyowe

usBIGTIME!!Let’sgogetthosesteaks.Nowdon’tgothinkingI’mchicken,Charlie,becauseI’mnot,butI’llwaithereandguardthedoorwhileyougoinfirstandmakesurethecoastisclear.”“Right,” I answered happily. I understood completely. Smokey stayed outside for a while, getting

controlofhimself,asIwentinside,gotthesteaksandfiredupthestove.

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OtherBooksbyCharlesJamesHall

MillennialHospitalityII,TheWorldWeKnew.MillennialHospitalityIII,TheRoadHome.

HallPhotonTheory(HPT),copyrightedinJanuary1998appearsinfulltextintheappendixofMillennial

HospitalityIII,TheRoadHome.

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AbouttheAuthorCharlesHallservedintheUSAFinthemid’60s,hereinthestates,aswellasinVietnam.Hisreallife

experienceswhileservingasaweatherobserverprovidedthebackgroundmaterialforthisbook.