good and interesting update; you write well. I am curious about the authorities in the next installment.

The fabled "black helicopters" often said to chase around UFOs/alien activity?

So all I can determine is that I need some of surfer dude’s weed.

Cliffs for those still here: being questioned in the desert; back to Vegas

It isn’t like a superhero or alien abduction movie. No lightning, no special effects. It just merges into me effortlessly. I don’t feel super strong, don’t see visions of alien civilizations, don’t have an urge to leap off the rock and attempt to fly. In fact, I don’t feel different at all. It’s like It is hiding inside me, inert.

The night sky is still the night sky. The helicopters are still coming, and SurferDude’s headlights are getting closer. I clamber down off of the rock and press my back against the base under a small outcrop. When the helicopters arrive moments later, I am hidden from their search lights as they play across the top of the boulder and continue along their path east. Whew. The car comes closer and begins to slow down and I hightail it toward the road. As I get closer, the car stops. Both doors open and two men emerge. It’s not SurferDude. Cheap suits, no uniforms, so not cops or park rangers. Feds? The jig is up, they obviously know I’m here. I walk toward them as casually as possible. They’re talking quietly to each other, but sound carries in the dry desert air.

Fed 1: No reading.
Fed 2: Is it moving?
Fed 1: No, I mean no reading. Nothing at all. Gone.

The one closest to me turns on a flashlight and shines it at me.

Fed 1: Come this way sir.

I join them on the side of the road.

Fed 1: Identification, please.
Pixel: Excuse me? Who the hell are you?

He reaches into his breast pocket and in the light of the car’s headlamps, I catch sight of the edge of a holster. He shows me his ID from the Department of the Interior. Rudolph Junkins. He nods at his partner, who grudgingly shows me his ID. James Ballard, Interior. Why are glorified park rangers wearing shoulder holsters?

Junkins: ID please.

I reach for my wallet.

Pixel: Have I done something wrong? Is this private land? What’s with the helicopters?
Junkins: This is federal land.

He hands my license to Ballard, who returns to their car and starts typing on a laptop.

Junkins: What are you doing out here by yourself?
Pixel: My friend is checking into a campsite in the canyon. I’m waiting for him to pick me up.
Junkins: Out here? In the middle of nowhere?

I point to the boulder.

Pixel: Seemed like a good spot for stargazing.
Junkins: No stars in New Jersey?
Pixel: I’m in Vegas for the NCAA tournament. Just needed to get away from the noise and lights for a minute. When my friend said he needed to come out here, I joined him for a ride.
Junkins: See anything interesting?

I point up.

Pixel: Orion. Polaris.

Headlights approach, and I’m praying it’s SurferDude. Ballard steps into the road and motions him to pull over.

Pixel: That’s my friend.
Junkins: Wait here.

I wait nervously while a clearly freaked out SurferDude shows them his ID, answers their questions. They look in his trunk, his backseat. They return to their car and talk. SurferDude leans against his car and shakily smokes a cigarette. Eventually, Junkins exits the car and brings my license back to me.

Junkins: Have a nice night. Thank you for your cooperation.
Pixel: That’s it?
Junkins: Why, is there something else you’d like to tell me?
Pixel: No. Sorry, just nervous.

I walk over to SurferDude’s car and climb in. He starts the car and we pull away.

SurferDude: WHAT THE F%!K WAS THAT?!?

My brain is spinning. Do I tell him the truth? Do I know what that is? I decide it’s safer to just keep it to myself.

Pixel: Guess they have meth problems?
SurferDude: How did they even know you were out there? Did you see those helicopters? Thank god weed is legal here, I was sh%!ting my pants until I remembered.

SurferDude orders me to gather the crew for our return. We make the Strip and head to my room at Caesar’s. The crew joins us for another late night smoke session and thrills to our blow by blow retelling of the encounter. In SurferDude’s version, Junkins and Ballard are huge and more menacing than they were in person. ABC starts calling me Heisenberg.

SurferDude: Why can’t I be Heisenberg?
ABC: Pixel’s bald, with glasses, a mustache and goatee. Just give him a porkpie hat.
SurferDude: So I’m Jesse?
ABC: YEAH B&TCH!

The hour and the flower finally take their toll, and everyone goes their separate ways. I turn off all the lights, but Vegas filters in through the windows. I pull the blackout shades, feel my way back to the bed and become as still as I can be. Slowly, colors begin to swirl before my eyes in the darkness. It emerges, like an octopus slowly crawling from some impossibly small hiding place in a wildlife documentary. That’s about the most accurate way to describe it because it is not emerging from me, but within me. As though it has been hiding inside my very molecules, and now it is inside me but discrete, something other than me. There are two of us in here.

I don’t know how I know it, but I know that it harbors no evil intent. It stretches out inside of me, and I feel a sense of well being unlike any I’ve ever known. Sleep envelops me.

I wake refreshed in the morning. The thing is still there but I’m getting used to it quickly. It’s like putting on a new pair of glasses; the world looks different for a while until your eyes and brain adjust. I try communicating with it, asking questions out loud. I feel stupid. I try asking again with my thoughts. Nothing. Just the sense of its presence, becoming easier. The new normal.

Next: poker is nice; people are too emotional; being tracked; escaping the Strip

Yeah I def need some of SurferDude's weed

So I see no reason to continue. Based on the current responses (and lack thereof) it's clear that the above predictions held true and Junkins was right. On the flight home, I told him that I wanted to tell my story, despite the well crafted fiction created by the agency and the Federal Marshals Service. He laughed at me and said "Go ahead. Your story will be a raindrop in the ocean. Those who sympathize will likely be people with whom you don't want to spend time. Everyone else will ostracize you, forget to return your calls, find reasons to be elsewhere when you need company. There are literally thousands of books moldering on shelves that are more interesting than anything you can say, and no one bought those either. You know why we've been so successful in obscuring the truth? By never getting in the way of people trying to earnestly tell their stories. In the end, people want to believe that which is easiest to believe."

I pointed out that billions practice religion, which quite specifically requires a leap of faith and the willingness to believe in the unbelievable.

"Yeah" he mused. "Go figure."

It's a shame. I was just getting to the most interesting parts. What happens when an empath sits at a poker table; initially escaping the clutches of the agency; the glory of the Rainbow Mountain Wilderness area; the girl in the desert; It leaving me for a tortoise; and the months of poking and prodding at the underground facility. If anyone out there still cares to hear it, I'll be in Vegas again for the first weekend of the tournament.

The truth is out there.

Pixel, please continue the story. I guarantee there are many of us who were eagerly awaiting the next installment.

Yeah, I’m enjoying it. I just checked out for a bit because I get frustrated reading a few paragraphs every few days. I was going to check back in a few weeks and read it all at once. Seems like a crazy story and I hope you opt to continue.

+1

I’ve been constantly refreshing waiting for the stories to continue. Just an interested lurker. Keep them coming


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people been hating? f the haters

you write well and i have no ****ing clue what to believe but its a dam good (and interesting) story

I felt like that on DMT. Such an intense, unexplainable feeling that people wouldn't believe if you told them exactly what you felt. Moar please!

Yeah, it's fantastic. But, like many others, I've been checking in often to see if you've added more. I don't know where I sit in terms of acceptance and all, but it's your story. I still want to hear it.

Wow that was disappointing, could one expect more from a Jersey boy.

Please don't stop just because one or two posters aren't behind you or think you are just stoned. Who cares what they think? I can't believe you would let them determine your path. Most of us are loving it and keep coming back for more.

Dude claims he has hard to believe story
Couple guys make some tame "we want somma that weed" remark and now
he is out.

Im thinking that pixel didnt make that post and someone just doesnt
want the truth to get out.
Could it be the same "person" who posted on his account before?

I was wondering if it was Pixel, too, but that's just because everything is a little weird. However, who cares? It's a good story and fun to read and I want to know what happens.

Now I have to buy a ticket to LV next weekend


(I'm kidding whoever is reading this from the Dept of Interior-really not interested in a different life form, and wouldn't go to Vegas just to hear more, really......)

I think Pixel is letting his creative side out and laughing at all of us.

Damn mofo, phinnish writing that dope TR. See what I did there? I made a funny since you like to smoke weed. Did you pick op on that? Oh wait, maybe I've explained too much. Either way, quit stringing us along like you flopped the nuts and are extracting max value.

Sounds like a Coast to Coast AM call to me, but I enjoyed it

No haters really, just a couple of respectful PMs saying basically "don't want to derail thread but maybe this belongs somewhere else."


Fair point.

Thanks to all who expressed continued interest. OK, going to try and gather all of my memories and write the whole story. Give me a couple of days to get everything together. Life is very busy, getting reacquainted with everyone, especially at home and at work. Will try to post the updates in rapid succession once I get it all together.

Smart.

pixelpusher,

Thank you for agreeing to continue, it's been a great read so far.

I didn't interpret the comments about getting some of SurferDude's weed as negative. I thought those people were saying, "Wow what a great experience, I'd like to get in on that."

Anyway, great storytelling, looking forward to more.

Awesome!