Communion: A True Story (23 page)

"Funny. I remember the afternoon but I don't remember the night. I don't remember after the workmen left. [Long pause.]"

"All right, we won't put any more tame in on that right now. But it's very possible that after I take you out of the trance, between now and the end of the weekend something will come to you about the thirtieth. And if it does, try very hard to remember. If something passes through your mind."

"Yes." (Nothing ever did. She was left with a memory that just stops right before dinner and doesn't start again until I returned the next morning. What happened in between was completely blank, as if powerfully blocked. Her earlier memories of that Say are perfectly normal.)

"Because of this procedure we are going through now, we may be loosening up some memories that will not emerge until you're out of the trance. So be alert."

"Yes."

"Now let's go to the night of October the fourth. As I understand it. you and Whitley were there and your son was there and you had guests, Jacques and his woman friend."

"Annie."

"Everybody's going to bed. You've had a good tame, a good meal, and a lot of good wine and conversation. Is that true?"

"Well, we went to a restaurant."

"Next day we had fun because Jacques went swimming, and the water was very cold."

"Let's go back to that night of October fourth. You've said good night to your guests and your son is already asleep, of course —"

"We got home late. We didn't get finished at the restaurant until about nine. They had been there before but they slept on the couch. This was the first time they saw the guest room.

It didn't have a bed in it before. So dark you couldn't see anything very well though.

Everybody just came home and got our beds ready and put on our pajamas. Because we were all tired. I don't think we talked much that night."

"Yes?"

"We left later than usual or — I don't remember. I think that's why we ate out. There was no time to buy groceries. So we must have left later than usual, for some reason."

"This was a Friday evening?"

"Yeah."

"So you said good night to everyone. And you and Whitley went upstairs?"

"Yeah."

"Just give me to the best of your recollection what happened that night, concentrating as hard as you can."

"[Long pause.] It wasn't a peaceful eight, but don't remember why. [Pause. Seems distressed.]"

"What are you thinking of right now?"

"Well, I don't know."

"Because you just screwed up your face and clenched your eyes."

"It seems like there was a lot going on, but I don't remember. I — I — remember when Whitley thought the roof was on fire. I don't remember that. But I remember it was like a culmination of a lot of other — it was like — it was surprising, because it was like a culmination of a lot of other activity. I don't — I don't — seems like it was late and not dark but I don't remember that, and it's not clear. But it doesn't seem like it was dark enough.

Usually it's so dark. It's all dark. And so restful and quiet, but I don't get that feeling about it.

I get the feeling that Whitley was up all night, and it was this thing and that thing and finally it was the roof. It was something else other than the roof on fire. There was something about the stove for another reason."

"What's going through your mind now?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Concentrate hard."

"I just see a light. I mean, it's not dark. You know, it's not dark."

"Yet when you came back from the restaurant you were struck by how dark it was."

"Did I say that?"

"Yes."

"I remember the house was dark, because we couldn't see. I remember thinking they can't see the guest room very well and they'd never seen it before. Of course they could have turned on the light. It was very dark outside. I don't believe we turned on many lights. We Just went to bed. We were all very tired and we all just wanted to go to bed. The thought flitted through my mind, you know, as the hostess, should we drink something or sit and talk.

but we all just wanted to go to bed."

"What time was it?"

"I think it was about nine."

"When you came back from the restaurant?"

"You were very tired. You get tired earlier out there. It's funny. Restful. Affects everybody. Never stay up late."

"I don't know what the calendar says, but I get the sense that there was a new moon that night. Very little moonlight." (Dr. Naiman had not been told that there was a heavy fog all night and it was inky black due to the lack of reflected light in this sparsely populated area.

The moon was waning and past the half. It rose about 10:30 and set in the pre dawn hours.)

"No."

"No what?"

"I — it — I don't know. It seems like there was a light."

"Tell me about it."

"No. I don't think there was. I think I just think there was. I mean — it's just that I have my eyes closed and it's not dark. It's light."

"You're back on that night, October fourth?"

"Well, I'm trying to be. I'm there and we go to bed. I remember when we're in the restaurant more clearly. Then we walk to the parking lot and the car s cold. Very cold. It's dark, but the restaurant's illuminated outside. It does seem to be a dark night yes it does. But the restaurant has lights aiming at it, so maybe the contrast . . . but it seems like a very black and inky night. But a clear night? Stars? I don't think it was gray and cloudy because when it's cloudy it seems light. But when it's clear you can see the dark night and you can see the stars. But. I don't —"

"Let's go back to your being in bed. It was some time after nine o'clock that night."

"It was odd being in bed with people in the house because you feel like you can't talk loudly. Out house is not very soundproof."

"What?"

"Our house isn't very soundproof."

"So you had to be quiet —"

"You feel like if you bounce around in bed they can hear you and they can hear you talk so you kind of whisper and feel self-conscious. .and it was odd to think of so than v people in the house because usually there's just my son down there and it's very empty . . . in the kitchen . . . you feel like it's empty and it was so full. The house was
full
, you know."

"Did that give you a feeling of security?"

"No. It was just different."

"But you do remember lying in bed with Whit and whispering?"

"Vaguely. Not very clearly. I don't remember much about that."

"Were you comfortable in bed?"

"Well, we were kind of — yeah, we're always comfortable in bed "

"On a night in October, it must be pretty chill up there "

"October? No. November. It's December."

"No. October fourth we're talking about."

"October?"

"It was October that Jacques and Annie —"

"So it was. I think it was December. Because remember snow. But it didn't snow in October "

"It didn't?"

"It's not likely. I remember snow." (Either she has confused the October and December experiences, or she has a vague memory of the chilly fog.) "I remember it was very cold."

"Do you remember the kind of clothes you were wearing when you went to the restaurant?"

"No. But they'd be casual clothes. Maybe they'd be my daytime clothes. A skirt . . . I might not have changed clothes."

"I'm interested in exploring how cold you were. Were you wearing enough clothes?"

"I might not have been, because I often leave my country clothes up there. It's always cold in that house, because you have to get the fire up. I would have been cold, but I turned on the electric mattress pad and got warm."

"How did your body feel that night?"

"Well, I think it was cold and got warm. Our room was very warm when Whitley woke me up."

"In the middle of the night or the morning?"

"Oh, it was during the middle of the night. Yeah."

"Tell me about that."

"Whitley'd been talking about the chimney lately. Feeling it. And he thought the roof was on fire. But I didn't see how the roof could be on fire because there were no flames and there was no light." (I woke her up the first time when I was awakened by the light that passed by the windows. By the time she was aroused, it had reduced to a small glow in the front yard.)

"If the roof's on fire you'd see the roof all lit up. He saw a light that I didn't see."

"Did he tell you about the light when he woke up?"

"Well, he said . . . I don't remember how he did but I had the impression that he saw flames or light. Not flames. It didn't make sense to me."

"Is it possible you didn't open your eyes?"

"Yeah."

"'That's possible?"

"Yeah."

"Yet you do make some references to a light that night."

"That feeling is gone now. But I don't remember it as a restful night."

"You know. Budd is here of course. And you don't mind if he asks some questions?"

"No."

Budd Hopkins: "Did you have any dreams that night?"

"Don't remember."

Budd Hopkins: "You said it had been a restless night. Because of dreams?"

"Let me think. I don't think Whitley was there very much. He was gone. You know, he goes sometimes at night. He goes and works. Or he just goes."

"Where did he go that night?"

"Downstairs."

"You have an impression of Whit being away from the bed?"

"Yes. It's lonely, you know. I wish he wouldn't do that."

"Was it after he said the roof's on fire?"

"I think it was before too He went out, then he came back again. He just was doing things all night."

"It certainly was not a night of sound, deep sleep for you, was it?"

"Well, it doesn't seem to be but I don't remember anything. But it has to be really."

"Did you hear your son?"

"
Yes!
"

"You heard that?"

"Oh, yes, he sounded so frightened. Really scared."

"Is that very common?"

"He gets nightmares sometimes. But he sounded especially frightened. I remember he sounded really terrified. So frightened. More frightened than usual."

"He screamed, eh?"

"Oh, yes.
Oh, yes!
It's painful to hear." (Nobody else remembered him screaming, only calling for me.)

"Is that something that in a normal night's ht's sleep you might sleep through without hearing?"

"Oh, no, no! Whitley usually hears him first, but I always hear him."

"You didn't sleep that soundly?"

"Oh, no. I heard it."

"I know you heard it. But I want to know if you heard it —"

"Oh, no. I heard it. Some nights I might not, but usually I hear it. This you couldn't miss. I mean. it was so loud."

"Did he say words?"

"Well, he did but I don't remember what they were. He was
really
scared. Something really scared him. I thought maybe something was happening to him. because it was like something was happening to him. I thought somebody was doing something to in. It was :r different kind of scream."

"Why didn't you go to him?"

"Because Whitley was already on his way . But I remember feeling very uneasy. I wanted to go too. but I felt I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"I thought there was something Whitley would — It had to do with him. He was
supposed
to go."

"He was supposed to go?"

"He was supposed to go. I wasn't supposed to, but I wanted to go."

"It must have been difficult staying in bed."

"It was, because I wondered what had happened."

"When did you find out what had happened?"

"I don't remember. I don't remember."

"What did happen?"

"I
do
remember he was gone for a long time. He didn't come back. Sometimes he goes and sleeps down there when our son has a nightmare. Or sleeps in our son's room in the apartment. I remember feeling very lonely that he didn't come back, and I didn't think it was fair to be left like that. It was very lonely and scary. It made me uneasy. He kept going, you know. He kept going." (I never sleep with our son.)

Budd Hopkins: "When your son kept crying?"

"Whitley kept going. Kept leaving."

Budd Hopkins: "I want you to do something. You're lying very, very quiet. Relaxed, just as you were that night. I want you to concentrate on what you can see and feel and hear. If you can see something through your eyelids. Feel your body, your shoulder, your legs. Feel relaxed."

"I don't feel relaxed. I'm not relaxed. I can't feel relaxed if I wasn't relaxed. I mean, it wasn't relaxing. No, it wasn't relaxing at all. There was too much going on, you know. It was—'

Budd Hopkins: "Was there in the room, or did Jacques and Annie —"

"No, they weren't in on it. There was something going on. I wanted to know what was going on. It looked-things were going on and I wanted to know what was going on! There was lots of things going on and I couldn't figure out what was going on!"

"Why didn't you get up and go see?"

"I couldn't, because I wouldn't. I — Was I afraid to, or wasn't supposed to? I wasn't supposed to. It was like your mother said to you, 'You have to stay here.' even if you don't —you're dying to get out and see what's going on, but you know because you've been
told
."

Her identification of the directing force feminine is fascinating.)

"You were trained to do that?"

"Well, we're all trained to do that from childhood."

Budd Hopkins: "Who told you that?"

"Nobody told me! I just had to do it."

"Is this something Whitley told you?"

"No. He's just left. No."

"Have an impulse to turn on a light?"

"Oh, no. No. I wasn't supposed to see."

"Who said so?"

"No one said so. I just knew it."

"You weren't supposed posed to
see
?"

"No, and I just knew it. That's what worried me, because I wasn't supposed to know but my son was so
afraid
. And Whitley was saving things like ''the rood' is on fire,' and I wasn't supposed to do anything. It's like somebody says, 'Well, the car is crashing but don't do anything'!"