Page Content (OCR)
“Does she say anything or express any emotion?” Barbara asked. “T think she comes back and puts me under the bed,” Ted said wonderingly. “Why would she put you there?” “Then there were some lights,” he answered, “and a noise, a whirling kind of noise. We can hear it but can’t tell where it’s coming from. That’s what makes her put me under the bed, and then she gets under there with me.” “Ted,” Barbara asked, “how old are you here?” “Really small,” he said, “about four years old.” “What is taking place now?” “There’s a light over us, and it’s spinning, creating like a vacuum, like looking up through a tornado. There’s movement all around us. Everything seems to be dark.” At that point, Ted was unable to proceed any further with the brief recollection, so Barbara suggested that he let himself move on to any other significant event. “Move forward in time,” she said, “to the next thing you can see.” Soon he began to get new images, also from his childhood but this time involving his other grandmother, and himself at a slightly older age. Ted struggled to regain a clear sense of vision, but something-an induced block, perhaps, or his own reluctance-held him back. And then, as if bubbling up from somewhere deep within him, information began to trickle into his mind. His recollections started in the midst of a bizarre scene unlike anything Ted had ever consciously remembered. “Grandy is standing on something,” he started again, after a long pause. “She seems hypnotized, she’s not saying anything. They remove her nightgown, and they’ve got something like a little drill, touching to the back of her head. They’ ve done something to her, and she’s slightly different.” He paused again, as if listening. “They’re telling her she’s very special,” he resumed. ‘They put a white gown on her and make her look beautiful, or they’re telling her she’s beautiful. They dress her up and tell her that she’s beautiful, and that she’s coming to live and work with them.” Masquerade of Angels 230 “How old are you here?” Barbara interrupted. “T’m ten years old,” he said. “I remember this, the room, and these beings around her, and I’m watching. She’s not in control, and they’ re all around her. They’ ve loosened her hair and are showing her how beautiful she’ll look when she lives with them. They’re preparing her for this. That’s all I seem to be able to see right now. And she does look beautiful, and young, too.” Ted stopped again, pondering. “I don’t feel like that’s all exactly right, though,” he admitted. A mental alarm went off, because the words felt false even as he spoke them. “We want only the truth,” Barbara said, “that’s what we’re aiming for.” “T suddenly felt like that stuff was what they told me I was seeing, but it’s not really,” Ted said. “Clarify your vision,” Barbara told him, deepening his trance, “and tell me what is really happening.” “She’s complaining about the pain,” he continued, “and they’ ve brought somebody else in. I feel like they’re antago- nizing and torturing her. Somebody’s come in who says he’s my grandfather, but my grandfather is dead. She’s arguing with him that it’s not her husband, she doesn’t care what they say. Somebody’s angry. And that’s all I can see right now.” “Ted,” Barbara asked, “is this the grandmother you were with in bed the night you heard the voice in the room?” “Yes.” “How old were you when that happened?” “Ten.” “Let’s shift your focus to that night,” Barbara directed. “Feel the bed, you’re in bed with your grandmother. Feel it, and your memory is perfect. Do you feel yourself there now?” “Yes,” he slurred, sinking deeper into the trance. “On the count of three,” Barbara continued, “you begin to tell me, with truth and clarity, what happened on that night. One, two, three.” “T can hear her voice now,” Ted responded. “She’s demanding that we be taken home. She’s complaining about the pain in the back of her head. She’s telling them to get that Masquerade of Angels 231 The Light - Twenty-Three The Light - Twenty-Three