Road to Roswell 

The road was long and boring. It was only a night’s drive away. But not a full one. One where your back would only just start to ache instead of scream by the end of it. I followed the I-10 on a long straight drive, the lanes falling away one by one. Until two were left. 

I filled my time by counting the highway lights that were out. I almost got to thirty before I entered the true desert. Then it was nothing. Just the lights from my dim headlights, the right one dimmer for some reason. Even the power lines along the road disappeared into the bleakness. 

Where did they always go?

I felt alone. Like I often did at night. Without her here to guard me from it. Whatever was out there. Which I knew, based on logic, was nothing really. Just an infectious feeling. The night had a way of creeping into my head. To make me feel manic and scared, like I was disappearing into it. She was my firelight in times like those. She was my light at all times, like I've said before. I wish I had told her that. How scared I was without her, but, She just knew. I always knew she knew. 

Now it was what I feared, only me. She was extinguished. Harshly and without a goodbye. Wordlessly. 

Could I ever be at home here? No. 

But I can survive long enough to get my revenge. 

Our revenge.

I looked at my partner in crime who was snoring slightly, curled up in the passenger seat. I gave him a pat on the snout and he huffed at that. I was in my head so much that I hardly noticed my road was ending and I had to hop onto another. I started desperately looking for signs to point my way. Anything with New Mexico stamped on it. Or the words Roswell. Maybe if I was lucky they’d have mile markers to see how far away I was from the city. I didn’t dare turn on my phone for directions. Too many distractions. I was stuck in this twilight oil stained, junk food reeking shoebox and had enough distractions floating around my head. I squinted as one apparated out of the bleakness behind me.

Headlights flared up. Practically blinding me. Close. They were almost neon blue blazing in my rear view mirror, like fancy LED lights on newer model cars. I shielded my eyes and thought to myself. 

Was that car always behind me? Are those his brights? 

Maybe it was the lack of sleep and focus. I hadn't noticed him haul ass up behind me.  

The car swerved and passed me on the left. Slowly reaching my speed and hovering next to me. It was a blacked out SUV with a push bar on the front of it. The headlights blaring onto the road in front of us were like small suns in the nighttime, they blasted tinted blue light from the front as well as ones mounted on the top. Like a hunter's truck. It steadied its pace next to me. Eyeing me up. 

“Get a good look buddy.” I stared up at the driver's seat, not able to get a view of who was behind the tinted windows. But they saw me. The SUV stayed there. Stuck to my side like a blazing shadow. I started moving my hand to the pistol in my center console. My wheels went over the warning lines on the side of the road as I was caught up with this driver, it made me swerve and slow. 

BRAT BRAT BRAT. The wheels cried out on the dividing lines. Chewy raised his head and caught himself as the car tilted back and slowed. The SUV sped away and took over my lane. Those red tail lights charging ahead of me. 

“What the fuck was that?” I settled my dog. “Assshole.” I added. 

Chewy yawned and planted himself back down now that the commotion was over. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was right after all these years. Nighttime does hold monsters. I had seen one. I got the creeping sensation that whatever was driving that car was another. 

~

Eventually, I was in the junction to change highways, finding my way to Roswell. After getting thoroughly lost I had to stop to get gas and ask directions. It was a sleepy gas station with an attendant that was equally tired in these morning hours. The sun was just about to break the horizon and the plains around me were a changing light blue and orange. 

Thank god the night is over. 

I rubbed my arms and the goose prickles disappeared.  

It was nice to rise up early. The whole world is still asleep. You feel different than the rest, like you’re cheating somehow. You and your goals got a head start. You just needed some caffeine to keep it that way. At this time if you did see another person, you knew you two have more in common than ninety nine percent of the population that you come across in the day. You both were a part of a secret club. In it were old people and insomniacs. I was beginning to be both. 

But this morning the wind picked up. It shook the highway shrubs, making them rattle. It blew a tumbleweed across the parking lot. It picked up dust and threw it at me like a sheet in the wind chilling me to the bone. Along the highway were some headlights and tail lights sparse miles from each other. But still I heard something carried over the wind, a soft buzz. A heavy engine making haste, like an 18 wheeler burning gas. I couldn't help but start to imagine things, like it was coming back around, that black hulking car. I had to hurry.

I quickly got inside. I asked and chatted and learned how to get to Roswell. And on exiting the gas station I stopped in my tracks. 

What are the chances?

It was staring me down. The same car. I could tell by the rack of lights that were now off, lifeless. The push bar tilted forward as it slowed. The engine was silent as it rolled into the parking lot like it had run out of gas. But I felt it hadn’t. It was trying to creep up on me. Whoever was driving had succeeded. I was caught halfway between it and the gas station entrance behind me. Only thirty feet away from the hood and the creaking wheels. I couldn’t help but imagine getting ran under them. Or pinned against the cinderblock wall behind me. My eyes flicked to my car to my right, parked in this empty lot ten feet from me, the window open, I could try to get to my gun. 

Is it him? How? 

It didn’t seem right, this car was a black shadowy thing. The disappearing darkness of the morning was almost stuck to it, making the driver's face invisible. 

I froze. Suddenly feeling like a naked matador staring down an angry bull. I had nothing but flavor blasted funyuns and flamin hot cheetos gripped in my hands, the bags crinkling as I tensed. I would rather die than throw those at this car. 

The car's lights flashed on, blinding me. I heard the engine roar to life as smoke poured from the wheel wells. It skidded forward and both the cheetos and funyuns soared through the air at the windshield. In a desperate attempt to stop it. One bag bounced away and tumbled over and behind the car. The other fell under a wheel and scattered across the concrete with a pop.

I surprise myself sometimes. 

I ran to the right and dove into my open car window. My stomach wedged against the sides and I abruptly stopped. My legs thrashed about into the air. I thought the SUV would crash into them, snapping me in two but instead I heard it skid and slide and burn out across the parking lot. When I was able to right myself I saw that it was peeling out. Flooding the highway once more with light and pulling away. Until it disappeared into the wind. Lights going dark. Only the echo of it across the landscape was any clue it was there at all. 

I grabbed my gun and pocketed it. Then I squeezed myself out the window, telling a frazzled Chewy to wait there. I had almost crushed him in my panic. I waited until the roar of the engine no longer rang in my ears.

“Is everything alright?” I heard the attendant come out behind me and was standing amongst the parking lot. It was now eerily quiet here. 

“I don’t know.” I said panting. “That car.” I pointed off towards where it went. “I think it’s following me.”

She looked off into the night and shrugged “Well... You dropped your cheetos and funyuns.” She had both of the bags in her hands.

I looked back frantically waiting for the car to come out of the night, hop a curb, charge at me again. But it seemed gone. 

“Want me to call the cops?” She asked.

“No.” I sighed. “Thank you though,” I grabbed my snacks from her and left wondering if I had any warrants out for my arrest. Wondering if I was in over my head? Wondering if there was anyone I could go to with all this? Back on the road I ate those snacks and learned that shitty gas station food tastes infinitely better after you are almost killed.

Roswell I

I kept a lookout of course. In my mind any passing car was that SUV. Every hulking shape on the side of the road was the care waiting for me. But the sun came up truly and with it steeled my nerves. Then the question lingered. Why was I being followed? Who was following me? Was it the man in the hat? Tim I knew who he was now. Actually Tim.

I doubted it. 

It didn’t seem to fit his goals, he was a wanderer, a devastator, this seemed like something else. Maybe it was just a drunk road rage idiot, who thought I was going too slow. Or maybe it was a buddy of his, Tim knew criminals and junkies alike. He could be connected to a whole conspiracy that goes all the way up. He at least knows someone who owns a window tint service. 

The more I thought about it the more that car made my skin crawl. It seemed to absorb and swirl with the shadows when it wanted to. It could creep along quietly or blaze like an inferno. I would never be able to see it coming at night. Until it was right on me.

Thank god I found my way to Roswell. Which was a thought I'm sure few seldom have had. 

~

It was a dusty sprawl of a town. Not as hot as I thought. That cool breeze had kept up through the night. But the outskirts were flat, the only two story building that rose from the beige land was the small downtown district. And there it seemed alien business was booming. Little green men with bug eyes greeted you everywhere. UFO tours, museums, even a cafe had a plastic UFO over the door. I thought the streetlights were watching me and had to look twice. On their white bulbs someone had painted alien faces on them. It explained that eerie feeling I had when I entered this town. They were watching me. 

I turned around and stopped at that cafe. Cracked the windows for Chewy and hopped out. I needed some real food I hadn’t had any in sometime. 

It was smallish but warm and welcoming. Half the reason I love diners so much: At them, I never felt strange about eating alone. It was a road warrior's stead. A place that welcomed all lost pieces. And I was lost, very lost and constantly losing more pieces of myself along this journey. 

“Heya sugar,” The waitress said, coffee pot in hand. 

“No thanks,” I covered my coffee cup. “Coffee makes me jittery.” Still thinking about the SUV in the lot. How I was seconds from being roadkill. 

She nodded and smiled. 

I told her my order, finally deciding on something simple, pancakes. When they came they were a three stack covered in syrup with a bit of strawberries in the center and blueberries around the edges, to make it look like an UFO. I couldn’t help but smile. 

I practically inhaled them and when the waitress returned I ordered a sweet tea and asked what was wrong with the bathroom. 

She turned around looking at the mens restroom that was crossed off with caution tape. DO NOT ENTER was plastered on the door. 

“Oh,” She said. “A couple days ago someone had an accident there and made a mess of the place. We have to install a new faucet. But we will be right on it. It will be good as new when you come back our way.” She stared a long time at the door and her smile faded away before she found it again, turning back to me.

I shook my head. “I don’t imagine I'm coming back your way. No offense. Great pancakes and great atmosphere but Roswell has something I need and then I'm gone. For good.”

“Well, you never know.” She shrugged, almost offended. “So you're just here on business?”

“Yes ma'am. Sort of. Well..” I took a big gulp of tea. “More personal. To be fair... It could be any of those options if you look at it differently. Multiple choice answers where every choice is right.” I smirked. “My kind of test. Maybe I wouldn’t have failed so many math classes.” She was looking at me like she didn’t have the time for this and I'm sure she didn’t.

“Anyways, I’m looking for someone. A friend of mine.” I had to say that through gritted teeth, it hurt my soul to even lie about us being close. “His name is Tim. He’s this UFO junkie, he told me to meet up with him in Roswell today, but truth be told I can’t get a hold of him. I was wondering if there is a classic meetup for those types? Somewhere I can ask around?”

“Oh,” She responded. “I was wondering if you were a sky hound.” 

“Sky Hound?”

“Yeah, that's what we call you folks who are always staring up.” She came closer in a whisper. “You know I lived here my whole life and I have never seen any lights.” she winked from under her brunette bangs. 

“Well I feel the same way, but I figure we’ll go out and enjoy the desert, do a bit of hiking and let his crazy ass stare at the stars all night. Maybe see something cool.” I was getting pretty good at lying. 

“Well, that sounds about right. Lots of people have UFO parties out in the desert. And it’s hard to get service there. So maybe that’s where your friend is? I think there’s a large one tonight. The cook always invites me.” Her eyes went wide and it was easy to tell the cook couldn’t take the hint. 

“Can I talk to your cook?”

“I’ll go ask Paulo for you.” She turned and left and my eyes went back to that broken bathroom. It felt like anything could be found behind that tape. Eerie.

~

Paulo was a short skinny Mexican man with a headband around his head, it was that alien green color and had rainbow ufos flying around it.

“So you're tapped into the truth of the universe?” He asked me as he sat across from me. My eyebrows raised up.

“I’d like to think so. But just so we are on the same page. What is that secret?”

“That we aren’t alone esse.” He tapped his temple and then pointed a shaky finger up. Either he had tremors or he was a skittish little guy. Maybe his blood sugar was low.

“Ah well of course. Do you do a little bit of UFO sight seeing?”

“I do. The skies have chosen me as one of the few… Chosen ones. Revealed heaven's secrets to my mind.” He was smiling ear to ear. 

I smiled in turn. “You sound like my friend Tim. Do you know him? He’s tall, has a hat with a feather in it. Very gaudy, a little creepy. He told me he’d be here.” Although I was realizing now. This could all be a ruse, something he told his employer. Would he really be killing folks on tuesday and watching for UFO’s by friday? It could be a simple way to cover his tracks. Had I come all this way as a joke? For nothing? 

This is ridiculous. 

As I looked at Paulo’s shifting wide eyes I didn’t like what I was getting myself into just based on a hunch. But… if I wasn’t close to something then why was that car after me? I looked out the blinds real quick. Out into the street.

Paulo did a double take at me and then did the same. We both peered out. 

There it was. Stopped at an alleyway three blocks down. I saw a shadow gathered there. I couldn’t mistake the black tinted front window as it backed up more. The last sliver of its hood vanished as it inched away. 

They must have found my car.

“Do you see that?” I asked Paulo, who was even more frantic now. 

“I see all.” He replied.

“Right.” I looked back to him still peering out the window. “Hey Paulo, do you know that Tim guy?” 

He took out a small flask and gulped something down, finally peeling his eyes away from the street. “Out there in the desert there’s lots of folks like us. Lots of free men and women. Enlightened homies. I think your boy could be one of them.”

“Enlightened,” I agreed.

“When they take you man, when they show you the path. You realize all the lies you’ve been told. You find the truth. I’ve been trying to tell people to join me, to show them the path but they are enslaved.” He looked around the small cafe. At a small family enjoying their meal. He grimaced, disgusted. “Once you find the truth and grip onto it. All this small shit... all these 1st dimension problems fade away. You realize you don’t need to be a slave, or work for the man.”

I nodded.“Let's get going then?”

He paused. “I mean, I just started my shift dude. We gotta wait till I get off before we get going.” He shrugged, being normal for once. “It's better if it's darker anyways and I got bills to pay.”

“Oh...Okay. Just with all that talk I was getting excited. I thought…”

“Yeah sorry. I mean I really like this job, I just can’t leave hombre.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Okay no worries. I totally get that. I’ll wait for you.” I shook his clammy hand. “But can we take your car then? Mine is being watched by… Well it’s having some work done.”

He took his hand back and used it to take another gulp from his flask. 

“Nahhh. No can do.” He said. “I’m not a slave to fossil fuels. My road is a spiritual one. My car is my mind.” He grinned like he had actually said something of substance. He offered me some of his drink and I politely refused. He shrugged and pocketed it. Then he planted both hands on the table and leaned towards me. Almost in a whisper he continued. “But… It is far. So I'll need a ride.” 

~

The night was cold and I had to dig into my bag to find my light purple hoodie. I left the rest of my clothes strewn about in the backseat around that box. That damn jewelry box that sat and waited for me. But it was still not time.

While waiting for Paulo I had crept around the block. Revolver in my belt. Looking for that blacked out SUV. While I did so I pondered that in a land of crazed UFO truthers and conspiracy theorists why one would go with the choice of a blacked-out SUV? That was beyond me. Nothing says I'm from Area 51 more than that. But maybe it was just so on the nose that it went under the radar. There was probably some ancillary conspiracy that secret government spies were actually meeting in ice cream trucks and black SUVs were sold to the populace for cheap to throw everyone off their trails.

That actually sounded pretty believable. Now I understand how easy it is to get swept up into believing things like that. 

Paulo finally got into my car as I had given up on my search for the mysterious SUV and was waiting in front of the cafe. He had his apron thrown over his shoulder and an oil stained brown paper bag clutched in hand. He shook it at me and raised his eyebrows suggestively, it only made his eyes crazier. Which reminded me of my mormon ex-girlfriend who told me I was hers forever after we held hands in 9th grade. 

“Oh you packed a little dinner for yourself, good foresight,” I said as I placed the car in gear and swerved onto the dying light roadways. Chewy sniffed at him and gurgled a strange noise. He didn’t like being regulated to the back. Paulo ignored the dog, giving him an occasional uneasy glance. 

“Sight!” He said excitedly, still rattling the bag. “Exactly! Not food for our body but food for the soul. To open it up.”

“Drugs huh?” My hands gripped the wheel a little tighter. 

What am I getting myself into? This is hopeless. Dangerous at most.  

He looked me up and down, placing his bag on his lap, atop his black stinking khaki pants. Guarding it like it was his family’s heirloom. “Whatever you want to call it esse. But it opens you up.” 

I shrugged. Back when I was married this whole situation might have freaked me out more. But the newly widowed me knew I was just along for the ride. Paulo directed me outside town. Far out into the desert. I watched for blazing blue headlights appearing behind me, following me. In my unsettled brain I even turned my eyes to the cloudy night sky to search for lights. Nothing so far. I breathed deep and smiled. It was kind of fun not being in control of the direction my life was going in. But smiling hurt from all the falls I had taken recently. Pain has a good way of reminding you what you lost. 

I watched the power lines grow in stature by the side of the road, the wires hanging low. Wood poles turned to crisscrossed behemoths of metal. Like some fantasy statues guarding a temple long strangled by the hands of time. I couldn't tell if they were always this big, so bursting with power, or was I just sleep deprived and imagining things. Like how stark in contrast they were with the barren landscape around them. 

What would the crumpled metal look like after we are gone? 

If aliens did come along after humantity died they would think we were so connected by these roads and power lines, that stretched like veins across this continent. How plugged in we all were to one another. But I didn’t feel very connected at all. I always struggled with that, feeling like an outsider. Feeling that people only tolerated me and called me names behind my back. Or worse than that… That they didn’t talk about me at all when I left, I was something less memorable than their breakfast that morning.

Maybe Paulo could help. Or whatever he carried with him. He seemed the spiritual hippie type. Maybe he would invite me to his convent compound and we drink kool aid together and become best buds. 

I watched his leg shake up and down like a wonky screw on a rollercoaster primed for disaster. 

Probably not. 

Eventually we turned off, going over dirt roads now. Nothing around us but vague shapes of sticker bushes and cactus. The headlights making small creatures' eyes glow in the rocky nooks along the road. The power lines fell away behind us as did civilization, and I was ambivalent to see them fade. It felt like we were treading across the night sky itself. Heading through different galaxies with another world laid out in front of us. Just when I thought my navigator was going to tell me to turn around, to go back, we were too far lost, we crested up through a small wash and I saw lights on the horizon. 

A dozen headlights were amassed on a hilltop. Dust from their party drifted up through the beams of light that they danced in. Like some photon cult. 

“They’ve been waiting for us,” Paulo said with a smile creeping across his face. “We’re prophets after all.”

~

I was quickly learning that an UFO party was more about what was going on in the dirt than the sky. And here in this dirt it was dirty. Both the people and this place. Tents were set up like it was Burning Man. Music was blasting out from different speakers. The vibes and tones they output were as different as the people that were led here. 

I was handed a burger and beer before I could speak and met with the different pilgrims. 

First there was Tony from Orlando who even though he looked like a classic Florida retiree was actually born and raised there. He told me he came every year when the sky beckoned him. 

I met Amanda and Dale. A black and white couple from Chicago who had relocated to New Mexico after a particularly bad winter. They told me they were from Chicago before they told me their names but I found that’s mostly the case with most natives of the Windy City. 

Denny was Paulos boyfriend it seemed. A skinny argentina man that flew overseas after meeting Paulo on myspace. When they kissed in front of me it felt like love was real once more. But I knew that. I had it once. It is the greatest sin when it’s stripped from you. That caused me to divert my eyes and look around the rest of the party. Looking for that tall man in a hat with a feather in it. But this didn’t seem like his crowd. I had wasted my time here. 

But hey free beer. 

On the edge of the camp out of the headlights was a man. He manned a charcoal grill and when the flames jutted up he grimaced and covered his face. “Woah there” he said just loud enough for me to make it out. But what I was more focussed on was the cowboy hat he wore on the top of his head.

Did it look like that? I tried to recall. It was black wasn’t it? Or was it white? How would I mix those two up? But it was so hard to think with this music and the dust and the exhaustion from lack of sleep and being followed. I didn’t trust my memory and I knew witness testimony was often wrong. I had to see his face. I would know then.  

I looked back at Paulo who was still making out with his boyfriend. I stumbled forward, hand behind my belt. 

The loud bassy tunes faded away and I was met with some country choir singing as I approached him. His eyes flicked up to me and he took off his hat, fanning the grill with it.. His other hand reached out to shake mine. He was tall. And he was skinny in just his jeans and white wife beater. But he was older and when he smiled… there was a kindness there. I noticed that even with the light coming up from the grill and painting him and his wrinkles in a hellish glow. “Hey there, I’m Greg. Is this your first year out here?” He paused and waited.

I was taken aback and he noticed. I was half expecting to kill this man but instead I let go of the gun and shook his hand. “Yes it is. I’m a friend of Paulo.”

He snorted a little laugh as he flipped over his steaks. “That crazy little fucker. Y’all too wild for my liking.” he looked me up and down. “Hey now, you ain’t weird are you?” He pointed with some tongs to a nearby foldable chair. 

“Weird how?” I asked as I sat down as directed.

He smiled again. “I guess we all are a weird lot out here.” I looked back over to the rhythmic center of the campground. It was being used as a dance floor with some people sitting on the hoods of their cars and laughing, drinking and singing along. 

I saw Dee and Lee, a brother and sister pair who both had glow in the dark alien atenneas on. They swayed together to a beat that I could not hear. I thought I was going more mad then I realized they were drunk as skunks as they both fell over. Everyone else roared with laughter. Greg took in the scene and smiled wider. “I meant weird like... you some vegetarian?” He lifted a steak from the grill.

“No sir.” I said.

That prompted him to make me a plate. And under those stars I was soon eating corn on the cob and rich perfectly cut steak. It almost brought a tear to my eye. I forgot to even look around for Tim, at least for a little while. Even worse, with the company around, I had forgotten why I was even out here, while I hovered over that plate pulling the steak apart with my mouth and hands. For a second, I just enjoyed what was before me and who was around me. 

I hated that feeling, like I was forgetting my love, my cause. It made my stomach squirm and I wanted to throw away the food I ate, I didn’t deserve it. 

Some more people joined us. I went through the motions and shook hands with someone named Beatrice. She was a strung out hippy who had honeycomb glasses on. I met Raggaford, a viking looking man who looked like he carried a sword in his day to day life. And lastly I shook hands with an individual who only called themselves Bee Bot. And their hands were sticky. They had a cue ball for a head and chrome painted clothes. I watched as Bee Bot ate one kernel of corn at a time, butt planted right in the dirt. 

Beatrice came and sat next to me. She smelled like cigarettes and unwashed crotch but I wasn’t in a position to judge. “What has brought you out here?” She asked.

“Well.” I looked at the others. Even Paulo and Denny had come forward. Now about half of the people at this party were around this little fire grill. All of them were looking at me. “I am looking for a friend of mine.” 

“We are all friends of yous now.” Raggaford stated with a nod. Everyone raised their drinks with a cheer and I followed suit.

“Well thanks.” I said. “But could you tell me if you all know a man named Tim? He maybe goes by other names. He is tall and lengthy and looks like he might have just killed a man?” I tried to pass it off as a joke but no one laughed. They all looked at each other. A hush blanketed over us. Until Bee Bot pointed into the desert behind us and made a whistling sound. I looked that way and saw nothing but darkness and sprinkled stars above it. 

“Bee Bot speaks true,” Raggaford said.

Beatrice gripped my shoulder. “Tim can be a loner. He comes out here with us from time to time. He wanders in and out of camp.”

Greg spoke up as he scrubbed dishes into a wash bin. “He uses us as a place to stay. He doesn’t talk too much. Just likes to play with his speakers and lights out in the desert. Alone. He thinks we aren’t as serious as he would like us to be.”

“He stares at the stars.” Beatrice whispers. “He yearns to go back. He does everything in his power to communicate with them.”

Paulo stepped forward. “He has got to know though... that they don't want him doing that. They don’t want him bothering them like that. The ones up there.” He pointed up. “They’ll make themselves known when they want to. They’ll take you up once they know you are chill. Once they know your mind is open.” People agreed and nodded around the grill. “What he is doing is just sad.” 

“We all just want to go back.” Beatrice added.

“I want to go in the first place.” Greg said, taking time to look up to the sky. “I just want to see.”

Raggaford nodded. “It is time.” He whistled and the music from across camp turned off. It was quiet, just the coals crackling. “We must open up our minds.” he added while stroking his braided beard.

Paulo snickered and went and got his bag. With hushed voices and some handy work Paulo was soon seated. A small instrument in his hand. The grill was removed and strange symbols were drawn into the dirt. The rest of the group wandered in. Taking a seat next to one another. Sometimes they would humm and harmonize with one another. Soon I was doing it too. 

What the hell is going on? is a valid thought in this situation. One I had many times but it was just easier to humm along then ask stupid questions. 

Wordlessly the instrument was handed around. A match was lit and I realized it was a pipe. Long wooden pipe with strange gems adorned on it. They smoked what was in it and a daze fell over them. Raggaford then Dee then Greg. It made its way around. 

“What is it?” I asked Beatrice

“To open your mind.”

“Yeah but what IS it?” The pipe was quickly coming around and I was seeing how much of a stupor it put people in. This is not what I came out here for.

“Why don’t you try it and find out? It will open up your mind. Allow you to see the heavenscape. The different dimensions. It will allow you to see the Others and their images they bring to us as gifts.”

“Okay,” I replied, still hesitant. The pipe was at Denny now. “So you guys aren’t just out here to look at the sky for blinking lights?”

“This lets you do that my child.”

“Firstly, I think I'm older than you…” I held up my pointer finger. 

“Age is a construct,” she quickly said.

“Two... Don’t you think maybe what you are seeing are just your hallucinations? From you know..” I nodded towards the pipe. “You know like if you see lights it’s all in your mind? It isn’t real. You’re just seeing things, things that aren’t really there.”

“Ah” She smiled and whispered closer. “But we DO see it. We hear it. We taste it. It is in all of our senses. How could it not be real? Just because it is behind a lens we cannot share does not mean it is not real. In fact…” She took the pipe and placed it in my mouth. She lit whatever was in the bowl and I inhaled the smog. “Because it is our perception and only ours means it is more real than anything else.” 

My lungs burned and I coughed and my vision quickly doubled. I heard a humm of bass far out in the desert. I could taste the vibrations. Soon the pipe came around again. And again. And again. So many times I lost track. It was on an unending circle, the beginning forgotten about and the end phantasmal. I did not stop smoking whatever it was, as I had forgotten I could actually just get up and leave. I crawled deeper into this night where I suddenly realized it was brighter than I thought. The lights were dancing and they were different colors too. The stars were doing a waltz through my head. Inviting me to watch their sway. 

I felt queasy and ready to vomit, my heavy head turned skyward. It rolled back and I felt it would fall off my neck. My vision plummeted over and over again, like what a bowling ball would see. But I found my bearings. My feet somehow got unglued from the ground and I walked to the waving hood of a car. Just a piece of metal where every atom was bursting to break free, but they were so trapped. Held fast by something that I could taste and it was stronger than their willpower.

I threw up.

Over and over. For each time that pipe passed to me, I was sure of it. 

Paulo’s shifting form came to me. “How you feeling esse?” 

“Tired.” I said. “What was that?”

“What? You ain't ever smoked peyote before? Peyote plus some extracurriculars!” He giggled.   

“I should sleep. Where’s my car?”

“Nah we don’t sleep here. We gotta stay up till sunrise. That’s why we got this.” He jingled a little glass pipe at me. “It will make you feel better.”

“I have to feel better.” I gripped him hard so I would not float away from my body. He helped me load it and hit it. A different wave crashed over me. My heart pounded fast.

“I don’t even want to know what that was.” I said. He laughed and smiled and his face twisted in the most vile way. But it was pleasing. So pleasing. 

“Sleep is for the dead” He said before scampering away.

~

That night was the first time I had ever done peyote. And it was the first time I ever smoked crack too. But before the judgement comes I would like to remind the folks back home. I was a dead man looking for revenge. I would do anything to find this man. Even if it meant loading up on more of that crystal and wandering into the desert. Looking for where this Tim was and seeing if he matched my man. 

And that’s exactly what I did. 

It’s amazing how quick your life turns into something you never thought it could. How easy it is to let things fall apart. I wish this story didn’t get worse than that. I wish it didn’t descend deeper and deeper into a world most folks are not accustomed to. Or prepared for. The one between daily normality and something fiction. A world made of odd newspaper headlines and half forgotten rumors that have no semblance of anything sane left to them. But I must reflect on just how easy it was to find this rabbit hole. Really, you only have to know where to look. 

 But all this is just different dimensional thoughts as I scrambled into the dark desert night, tripping balls with the heart rate of a track star (and rising). I hope at least you find it entertaining. If that’s the case, most of you will be happy to know the story descends a bit more, levels out, descends more, rises shortly, descends heavily… before the coup de gras.