11,358. RUDIMENTS, pt. 520

RUDIMENTS, pt. 520

(the old map of Avenel is better than the new)

When I was about 10, there

was a field next to the First

Aid Squad building. It's now

a long-time Krauzser's and

a small office building.

(Krauzser's is a convenience

store, and the office space

is vacant and for rent).

Anyway, one night in a

long ago March, aliens

landed there. There had

also been a craft landing

in the far rear of my house,

on Inman  -  out the rear

yard, across the tracks, in

the small, unsettled section

of woods that ran between

the prison farm and the

Security Steel (later General

Dynamics) wooded truck

entry road (now the entry

from Rahway Avenue for

construction vehicles to

the current welfare project

apartments being built all

along there, on both sides).

Back then there was also

another chain of convenience

stores, (failed, didn't last),

named Cumberland Farms,

which is now an Italian grocer

and Av-Wood liquors, in yet

another little strip-mall junk

area. Across from that, a bit

off, is Ideal Trailer Court.

There was also a landing

down in those low, wooded

swamp-lands. There was an

Esso Station near there, now

a Dunkin' Donuts dump.

(Dumpin' Donuts dunk?).

-

These landings, the three

that I know of, filtered down

out of the sky like mist, and

only formed themselves into

something when they 'landed'

I found a lot of this out from

the landing behind my house,

at the cornfield and prison

farm. In that location, the

two resultant 'aliens' took

the form of two wandering

vagrant types, or bums,

walking the tracks. It was

a good cover. They would

leave things behind, yes, but

all traces would eventually

disappear  -  two or three

days later everything had

de-materialized, or whatever

you might call that strange

no-evidence dispersal.

-

Upon first seeing them (a

sort of 'light' that I had

noticed from my upstairs

rear widow had caught my

attention, and I went out

there to see), I was totally

unsure of what I was

witnessing, and I at first

mistook the entire scene

for what I figured had been

the installation of a new

lamppost. There was a

railroad call box, with

a phone inside  -  (a direct

line to some sort of emergency

service desk in case of a

mishap. We used to prank

the live phone often)  -  on

a pole nearby, so I simply

had connected it all as one

in my boy-brain. Once I

understood it was NOT that,

I saw the two guys. They

were harmless and friendly,

and said they'd 'been expecting'

me. Weird, thought I, how!

There was a circle of clearing

where they were, with some

things there, and I walked

over  -  more or less it was

involuntary, but I went with

it. I wasn't scared, more

inquisitive and confused.

I was, or felt I was, glad

that Spring was approaching,

but my immediate feel was

that, 'Hey, had they put that

thought in my mind? Or

was it my own?' The one

guy laughed, as if he'd

read my thoughts. He said,

'Take it easy, we're all the

same, and we're all like this,

you're all like this, it's nothing.'

I guess that was meant to set

my mind at ease, but I already

knew how much I usually hated

that 'we're all the same' crap. The

last thing, I felt, was that we were

all the same  -  heck, I was meant

to be different. Ever since the

train wreck and my coming back

awake into this stupid life, it was

my determination that I was

somehow already quite different

and dumped here for a reason.

Fairly much what these guys

were saying  -  but they had it

all generalized out. I paraphrase

from deep memory. 'This whole

town is filled with many of us.

We merge, and then we forget

about our origins. This is a live

vortex area, it's easy for us to

slip in here, the enter. Anything

we do, we make up along the

way, as we are doing it. That's

the essence of the voyager life.

We're far from home, but we're

not either. There is no space,

and we're not traveling. It all

just comes to be. This will all

be gone soon, but we'll be

well-seeded by then, filling

the gaps between your spaces,

with people, what you call

'people' anyway.' As he talked,

he was looking at me, deeply.

The other guy, who'd been

silent, was moving things

around on the ground. He

came over and handed me

two black 'rocks' or whatever

they were. (I still have them,

oddly chipped, about the size

of the kind of rocks you might

find in your yard, a bit larger.

All my life I've kept them. They

both sit, right now, in my van,

and have usually been in the

glove box of whichever vehicle

I had at the time). He was

putting sticks and branches,

on the ground, in some off

configuration. They stayed

a day or two, these two gents,

and then just walked off.

I never saw them eat or

rest or any of that stuff,

and then they were

memory. The only other

person (I'd never told

anyone) who somehow

had an inkling of this, or

of their presence there,

was my neighbor friend,

Barry  -  a few houses

off. He kind of made a

huffy 'Martians have

landed' neighborhood

noise about it all, and

for one night a group

of us (mostly just me,

him, and Bob Shipley)

walked out there with

sticks, ready to fight

the invaders  -  but when

we got there we couldn't

find a thing. I never let

on about any of it that

I knew.

-

The one guy  -  another odd

thing, had told me of the three

spots near, where there had

been landings (the three I

described in the opening), but

he told me that they configured

a triangle, a form/shape they

had to adhere to to draw the

needed energy for their

presence. In my head, I could

not in any way see it as a

triangle. In fact, it was more

almost a straight line, those

three locations. That always

struck me as odd, and I never

got over it, and it always,

from that day on, jaundiced

my view of mathematics and

algebra and trigonometry and

all that stuff. Engineering too,

pretty much. I realized it was

all a mental thing, a concept

at work, working itself out,

like those guys, and changing

definitions as they went along.

Spatial connections meant

nothing anyway, if you could

just prance through them and

materialize or de-materialize

what you were doing at will.

Even 'travel' at that point had

lost all meaning. I remember

later in life, in Metuchen,

walking down Main Street

and always passing the three

or four high-level travel

agencies there  -  all these

people with money having

agents to make their vacation

and itinerary plans for them,

posters of Acapulco and

Thailand and Greece and

Rome. I used to laugh at

how the idiots were just

pissing it all away with

these weird ideas of

destinations and places

and routes. Oh well, if

they only knew -  but if

they 'knew,' then they

would no longer be

themselves, be them,

be what they were.
-
And, lastly, one very weird
thing about this: For the first 
6 years or so, after we moved
in the new house (1954), there
was a large oak tree in the rear,
along the property line by our 
house and Miranda's house.
The neighbors, the Mirandas,
had it taken down eventually but
at first, when my father used to
use the driveway to park in
(that too stopped after a while)
he'd park up at the end, and
I could lean on the car bumper
(front) andI used that large
tree as my steady reference
point each time I studied or
 gazed at the skies  -  moon 
position, the two dippers, etc.
I got pretty good at all that.
Weirdly enough, right about
where that big trees was was
the 'triangle' point, if I 
imagined one, between the
Big Dipper (Ursa Major), the
treetop, and the approximate
area of their 'landing'  -  those
guys. Coincidence, I guess. Every
so often, by the way, now, I walked
the tracks to get to that location
again and just gaze around me. I
can hardly believe what I see.
It's like, in the 1960's, there was
a comedy/skit group called
The Firesign Theater  -  sort of
like Monty Python stuff. Funny,
deep, and zany LP's, all
together. They had one called
'How Can You Be In Two Places
At Once When You're Really
Nowhere At all.' That was
just how I felt.