"No. He's just left. No."

"Have an impulse to turn on a light?"

"Oh, no. No. I wasn't supposed to see."

"Who said so?"

"No one said so. I just knew it."

"You weren't supposed posed to see?"

"No, and I just knew it. That's what worried me, because I wasn't supposed to know but my son was so afraid. And Whitley was saving things like ''the rood' is on fire,' and I wasn't supposed to do anything. It's like somebody says, 'Well, the car is crashing but don't do anything'!"

"Strange orders."

"Well, they weren't orders. You see, they weren't. They weren't orders, no."

Budd Hopkins: "Anne, I want you to do me a favor. I want you to — with your eyes closed and very relaxed —"

"I'm not relaxed."

"As relaxed as you can be. I want you to have a little dream. A fantasy. About what all that activity was. What's happening?"

"All right."

"Somehow Whitley's involved. Your boy is involved."

"I'm not involved!"

"Well, you'll dream about it. Tell us about what you remember."

"Whitley's supposed to go. They came for Whitley."

"I'm sorry?"

"They came for Whitley and he's supposed to go. But I'm not supposed to go."

"Who came?"

"Nobody that I know of. He just has a feeling that he's supposed to. And it's like when someone's going off to war or something, they're supposed to go and you're supposed to stay home."

"Now, there has been a shift, though. Because in the early part of the evening when you thought Whitley was out of bed — you say he often goes downstairs and writes."

"Not in the country. Because he writes upstairs in the country. He doesn't write in the country very often. You have to turn on the overhead light to write in the country. No. I just mean at home to the apartment, he gets up. I find out that he's done a lot of things at night. Or I kind of sense it."

"In the city"

"Yeah."

"So his being out of bed that night —"

"No, it wasn't usual for the country, actually. He stays in bed in the country. He really does. And that's why I think he gets more rest there. Because he goes to bed and stays and there's no place to go, there's nothing to write, nothing to tempt him, and I'm the one who gets up early and reads m the country. He even sleeps late."

Budd Hopkins: "Why do you think Jacques and Annie don't get up? They heard screaming from your son. Weren't they concerned?"

"I think they did get up, didn't they?" (No. Neither of them testified that they got up, and both of them were awake enough to remember their own movements and that of the other.)

"Did you hear them?"

"I think I remember hearing... Annie speaking to him. I think Annie went to him first.