jak.themothmanprophecies-第43部分

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round　is　simple　enough　。。。　it　makes　it　impossible　to　tape　the　voices。　I've　tried　and　found　that　the　background　pletely　smothered　the　voice　on　the　tape。
　　
　　I　kept　a　careful　log　of　the　crank　calls　I　received　and　eventually　cataloged　the　various　tactics　of　the　mysterious　pranksters。　Some　of　these　tactics　are　so　elaborate　they　could　not　be　the　work　of　a　solitary　nut　harassing　UFO　believers　in　his　spare　time。　Rather；　it　all　appears　to　be　the　work　of　either　paranormal　forces　or　a　large　and　well…financed　organization　with　motives　that　evade　me。
　　
　　From　my　years　in　show　business　I　know　that　talented　mimics　are　rare　and　that　some　voices　are　almost　impossible　to　imitate。　Nevertheless；　our　hypothetical　Organization　is　able　to　mimic　almost　anyone…including　myself。　And　I　have　a　flat；　colorless　voice　somewhat　like　former　Vice…President　Spiro　Agnew's。　Professional　mimics　like　Rich〃　Little　and　David　Frye　were　never　able　to　get　Agnew's　voice　down　pat。
　　
　　At　1　A。M。　on　the　morning　of　Friday；　July　14；　1967；　I　received　a　call　from　a　man　who　identified　himself　as　Gray　Barker　from　West　Virginia。　The　voice　sounded　exactly　like　Gray's　softly　accented　mellifluous　own；　but　he　addressed　me　as　if　I　were　a　total　stranger　and　carefully　called　me　〃Mr。　Keel。〃　At　first　I　wondered　if　maybe　he　hadn't　been　out　celebrating。　The　quiet；　familiar　drawl　told　me　that　he　knew　I　wrote　for　newspapers　and　he　had　just　heard　about　a　case　which　he　thought　I　should　look　into。　It　was；　he　said；　similar　to　the　Derenstein　case。　Gray　and　I　had　visited　Woodrow　Derenberger　together　so　I　knew　this　was　not　the　kind　of　mistake　he　would　make。
　　
　　Around　that　time　I　had　received　a　number　of　reports　from　people　in　the　New　York　area　who　had　been　receiving　nuisance　calls　from　a　woman　who　identified　herself　as　〃Mrs。　Gray　Barker。〃　I　knew　that　Gray　was　not　married　but　when　I　mentioned　these　calls　to　this　〃Gray　Barker〃　he　paused　for　a　moment　and　then　said；　〃No；　Mrs。　Barker　hasn't　been　calling　anybody　up　there。〃　He　returned　to　his　recital　of　an　absurdly　insignificant　UFO　sighting　near　West　Mifflin；　Pennsylvania。　It　was　not　the　kind　of　incident　that　would　have　inspired　a　long…distance　call。　Later　I　did　try　to　check　it　out　and　found　all　the　information　he　gave　me　was　false。
　　
　　We　talked　for　about　ten　minutes　and　throughout　that　period　〃Gray〃　sounded　like　a　man　under　duress　。。。　as　though　someone　was　holding　a　gun　to　his　head。　I　tricked　him　several　times　with　different　meaningless　references　and　by　the　time　I　hung　up　I　was　definitely　convinced　that　this　man　was　not　the　real　Gray　Barker。
　　
　　An　hour　later　my　phone　rang　again　and　a　young　man　said；　〃Gray　Baker　has　been　trying　to　reach　you　。。。　he　asked　us　to　give　you　this　number　and　to　please　call　him。〃　He　recited　a　number　that　was　identical　to　my　own　except　for　the　last　digit。
　　
　　There　were　more　calls　from　strangers　that　night；　and　more　pointless　messages　from　Gray　Baker。
　　
　　The　next　day　I　called　Gray　long　distance　and　he　denied　having　placed　the　call；　naturally。
　　
　　Soon　after　that　I　discovered　that　another　〃John　Keel〃　had　been　phoning　people　around　the　country；　imitating　my　voice　and　mannerisms　exactly。　Mary　Hyre　received　one　such　call。　I　phoned　her　a　few　days　afterward　and　she　said；　〃I'm　glad　you're　feeling　better　。。。　you　sounded　sick　or　drunk　the　other　night。〃
　　
　　〃What　other　night？〃
　　
　　〃When　you　called　a　couple　of　nights　ago。　Remember　we　talked　about　your　letter　and　what　you　thought　was　going　to　happen　on　the　river。〃
　　
　　I　had　not　called　her　and　discussed　the　letter。　Nor　had　I　discussed　the　disaster　prediction　with　anyone　other　than　the　contactees　who　were　told　about　it。
　　
　　Jaye　P。　Paro　called　me　one　morning　to　plain。
　　
　　〃You　must　think　I'm　crazy。　I　wouldn't　go　up　to　Mount　Misery　alone　at　midnight。〃
　　
　　〃What　are　you　talking　about？〃　I　demanded。
　　
　　〃Last　night。　You　called　and　told　me　to　meet　you　on　Mount　Misery。〃
　　
　　〃I　didn't　call　you　last　night；　Jaye；　and　I　certainly　wouldn't　ask　you　to　do　such　a　thing　anyway。〃
　　
　　〃You're　putting　me　on。　It　sounded　exactly　like　you。〃
　　
　　I　spent　most　of　March　1968　in　Washington；　D。C。　While　I　was　gone　an　old　army　buddy；　a　serious；　quiet　man　who　worked　in　advertising；　stayed　in　my　apartment。　He　was　totally　reliable　and　not　a　practical　joker。　When　I　returned　I　found　a　stack　of　messages　from　phone　calls　he　had　received　while　I　was　gone。　One　was　from　George　Clark；　a　UFO　enthusiast　in　New　Jersey。　He　had　called　on　March　23　and　asked　for　me　to　call　him　back。　I　never　got　around　to　it。　So　a　few　days　later　he　called　again　and　I　apologized　for　not　returning　his　previous　call。　There　was　a　stunned　silence　on　the　other　end　and　then　he　slowly　told　me　that　I　had　called　him　back　around　10　P。M。　on　March　27。　A　voice　that　sounded　exactly　like　mine　had　talked　to　him　at　length；　using　my　pet　expressions　and　nonmittal　statements　such　as；　〃Well；　we'll　just　have　to　wait　and　see　what　happens　next。〃
　　
　　Two　days　later　George　said　he　called　my　number　again　around　8　P。M。　and　a　〃hippie〃　answered。　〃No；　man；　Mr。　Keel　ain't　here　right　now　。。。　but　he　ought　to　be　back　soon。　Would　you　like　to　leave　a　message；　man？〃　George　left　a　message　with　him。
　　
　　That　particular　evening　I　was　back　in　New　York　and　sitting　next　to　my　phone。
　　
　　Three　months　earlier；　on　January　18；　1968；　my　phone　went　dead　again。　The　main　office　of　my　exchange　could　find　nothing　wrong；　so　a　repairman　was　dispatched　to　my　apartment。　He　examined　my　telephone　but　it　seemed　okay。　I　acpanied　him　to　the　basement　where　he　unlocked　the　telephone　room　and　began　examining　the　maze　of　wires。　The　multitude　of　connections　are　coded　in　such　a　vague　way　that　only　a　real　expert　can　pick　out　an　individual　line。
　　
　　〃This　is　where　your　line　is　connected；〃　he　explained　to　me。　〃And　you　see　。。。〃　He　stopped　and　stared　at　the　wires。　〃Look　at　this。　This　wire　has　been　cut。〃　He　waved　a　neatly　snipped　wire。　Someone　had　managed　to　single　out　my　telephone　line　in　that　maze　and　cut　it　with　a　pair　of　pliers！
　　
　　As　soon　as　the　wire　was　spliced　and　my　phone　was　working　again　I　called　my　friendly　telephone　representative。
　　
　　〃This　I　must　have　in　writing；〃　I　snapped。
　　
　　A　few　days　later　I　received　a　letter　from　her　stating　that　my　phone　had　bee　disconnected　on　January　18　because　a　piece　of　solder　in　the　main　office　had　loosened。　I　knew　there　was　only　one　piece　of　solder　on　my　line　in　the　main　exchange　and　I　had　examined　it　personally　only　the　month　before。
　　
　　Between　the　IRS；　the　phone　pany；　Apol　and　his　gang；　and　flying　saucers　I　was　rapidly　being　a　candidate　for　the　funny　farm。　
　　　
　　
　　　18　…　Something　Awful　Is　Going　to　Happen　。。。
　　
　　I。
　　
　　Mrs。　Virginia　Thomas　was　working　in　her　kitchen　deep　inside　the　TNT　area　when　she　heard　a　loud　squeaking　sound　unlike　anything　she　had　ever　heard　before　in　her　years　there。
　　
　　〃The　best　way　I　can　describe　it；〃　she　told　Mrs。　Hyre　and　me；　〃is　that　it　was　like　a　bad　fan　belt　。。。　but　much　louder。　I　stepped　outside。　It　seemed　to　be　ing　from　one　of　the　igloos。　Then　I　saw　a　huge　shadow　spreading　across　the　grass。　It　was　just　after　noon　so　there　shouldn't　have　been　any　shadow　like　that。　Then　this　figure　appeared。　It　walked　erect　like　a　man；　but　it　was　all　gray；　and　it　was　much　bigger　than　any　man　I　ever　saw。　It　moved　very　fast　across　the　field　and　disappeared　into　the　trees。　It　didn't　seem　to　be　walking　exactly。　It　was　almost　gliding　。。。　faster　than　any　man　could　run。
　　
　　〃It　was　the　hunting　season　so　I　knew　it　wasn't　a　hunter。　No　hunter　in　his　right　mind　would　dress　in　gray。　Around　here　they　all　wear　red　coats　and　red　caps。　And　it　wasn't　a　bear　or　anything　like　that。　It　really　scared　me。〃
　　
　　Since　that　sighting　on　November　2；　1967；　Mrs。　Thomas　had　been　plagued　by　bad　dreams。
　　
　　〃I　see　a　lot　of　strange　people　around　the　river；〃　she　explained。　〃It's　like　some　kind　of　invasion　or　something。　They　e　over　the　bridge　in　trucks　and　they　pour　into　the　TNT　area。　We　grab　the　kids　and　run。　I　can't　figure　out　what　it　means。〃
　　
　　I　had　flown　to　West　Virginia　after　a　trip　to　Atlanta　and　a　quick　tour　through　the　Carolinas　investigating　some　UFO　landings。　Mrs。　Hyre　had　picked　me　up　at　the　Charleston　airport；　and　as　we　drove　to　Point　Pleasant　she　told　me　about　her　own　dreams。
　　
　　〃Just　before　I　got　your　letter；〃　she　said；　〃I　had　a　terrible　nightmare。　There　were　a　lot　of　people　drowning　in　the　river　and　Christmas　packages　were　floating　everywhere　in　the　water。〃
　　
　　〃Maybe　you　were　just　picking　up　my　thoughts　somehow；〃　I　suggested。
　　
　　〃Maybe。　But　I've　covered　a　lot　of　drownings　on　that　river；　but　never　anything　like　this　dream。　There　were　so　many　people。　I've　been　feeling　uneasy　ever　since。　And　everybody　else　feels　the　same　way。　You　can't　really　put　your　finger　on　it　。。。　but　it's　like　something　awful　is　about　to　happen。〃
　　
　　Perhaps　it　was　only　suggestion　and　an　emotional　hangover　from　all　I　had　been　going　through；　but　when　we　reached　Point　Pleasant　I　could　feel　a　heavy　atmosphere　of　foreboding。　I　wandered　around　the　village　under　an　oppressive　cloud。　One　by　one；　old　friends　confided　in　me。　〃You　know；　Keel；　something　is　wrong　here。　I　don't　know　what。　Ever　since　all　that　flying　saucer　business　last　spring　things　just　haven't　seemed　right。〃
　　
　　〃We　don't　get　many　UFO　reports　anymore；〃　Mary　told　me。　〃And　except　for　that　thing　Mrs。　Thomas　saw；　Mothman　seems　to　be　laying　low。　Everything　is　quiet。　Too　quiet。〃
　　
　　Toward　midnight　on　November　19；　Mary　and　I　were　cruising　through　the　TNT　area。　The　sky　was　heavily　overcast。　It　had　been　raining　earlier　and　no　stars　were　visible。　The　cloud　ceiling　was　probably　below　five　thousand　feet。
　　
　　〃Don't　look　now；　Mary；〃　I　said　lightly。　〃But　there's　one　of　our　friends　straight　ahead。〃
　　
　　A　brilliant　light　was　bouncing　around　in　the　blackened　sky　over　a　row　of　hills　far　to　the　east。　Mary　stopped　the　car　and　we　watched　it　silently　for　about　ten　minutes。　It　dropped　down；　then　shot　upward　again。　It　slid　from　side　to　side；　moving　several　degrees　and　then　returning　to　its　original　position。　Finally；　Mary　started　her　car　again　and　drove　slowly　along　the　dirt　road；　hoping　to　find　a　b