Ishmael Gradsdovic reflects on a very weird experience, in part thirty-seven of the papers:
Today both of my eyes open on their own, giving me a stereo view of the world marred only by the swelling that keeps my right eye half-closed even when open. I've lucked out. Although all around my eye are cuts and scrapes and the eye itself is swolen by bruises, there doesn't appear to be any damage to the mechanism. No blurriness, no stinging of scratched cornea.
The odd thing, of course, and I strangely think it irrelevant to mention it in my journal (as if I'd forget about it and only remember upon reading it in the future) is that I'm on a spaceship being held by some sort of alien creatures just like out of some sort of loopy UFO fantasy in the Weekly World News. I'm trying to piece things together. I think what happened is something like this.
The train didn't really slow down in Gilroy or Salinas, so I thought I'd get off in S.J. or Oakland if things got really bad. In SJ, the train slowed a bit. Still not so slow as to make jumping off easy, but slow enough that I thought I'd give it a shot.
Last thing I remember is squatting down next to the boxcar door, getting ready to jump. I must have been carrying my backpack on my back. That's the last thing I remember clearly. There was a flash of light and I remember looking up because it seemed that that was where the light was coming from.
My next memory is in this empty room on the ship, looking around at where my things are scattered on the floor. Then I used some chalk from my backpack to write on the walls of the room my name and address and phone number and social security number just in case I forgot them (my memory was pretty bad at that point). Maybe that's when I wrote the last part of the last journal entry.
Then I fell asleep, suddenly. I think I either just passed out from the concussion or was anesthetized by gas. When I woke up, I was bandaged with a network of green (but not organic) fibers of some sort and cleaned up a little bit, though marked up with what appears to be iodine. I can't figure out the purpose of the markings, though. Also, there's a hard, light, third testicle-shaped and -sized ball in my scrotum.
One of my facial wounds is still bleeding; I have to clean it now and then. The right side of my lips are swolen, and the rest of my face & forehead are pretty cut-up on that side. The rest of my body is doing fine, though. A few scrapes, and a twisted ankle, but that's it.
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Now I'm in Las Vegas. The ship left me off on the roof of the Vegas World casino and I felt like a captive killer whale released to the wild. No explanation, no clue as to why or whether they conked me on the head; I never got a look at anyone else on board, and I my memory is fuzzy even on the details of what the ship looked like.
My memory and mental recall are still pretty bad from the bonk on the head. I called A---- when I checked in at the Motel 6, and kept calling him B---- by mistake. I didn't tell him about the aliens. I haven't decided how or whether to mention that to people. I just told him that I'd hit my head getting off the train somewhere in the desert and that I'd hitchhiked into Las Vegas. So this is a concussion. What a crazy sunbich that is. I've spent most of the day sleeping, having eaten a couple bites of mashed potatoes and most of a smoothie for Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner today and Dinner yesterday.
In a way, its kind of nice that I don't have any memory of the injury itself. The way my memories are arranged, its several hours of pleasant train rides almost as if in a dream, followed by a blank, followed by what in retrospect seems as though it should have been confusing and frightening, but which I seemed to handle with a pretty clear head.
Not the best way to start a vacation. But, thanks again to the amnesia, I have no fear or anxiety, and would jump on another train in a moment. That's what I'll probably do later this week, maybe even tomorrow. But I'll be much more careful watching the skies from now on.
I've cleaned up a bit, removing some bandages, brushing my teeth, and washing my face. The face itself is pretty swolen, and there are still cuts & stitched wounds in it. Doesn't feel quite so bad in any case, and I'm not sponging down seeping wounds, which is always a plus.
But I'm still very tired all the time. Whenever I'm awake I'm holding my
head up and battling to keep my eyes open for a little bit.
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