seem to have light colored pants on, kind of baggy. We didn't wear jeans in those days, we wore baggy pants all the
time. I look out and go out with them into the cold. It feels cold out there now, because I've been sitting around
watching TV. He's going down the stairs, ahead of me. There's only about 3 or 4 stairs there, concrete, going out
toward the driveway. He's going out sideways, along the house, and we walk side by side toward the driveway.
On the other side of the garage there was more open space and some trees, and no house for some ways. I see
something. This one's not one of those 12 footer jobs, this one's 100 feet, much bigger. It still has that basic saucer
shape, and it's dark gray. I'm following a little bit behind him because I don't know which side. He goes along the
bushes where we're between the garage and the ship. We go underneath the ship. It's not on the ground exactly,
although I did hear a crunch sound. There's a little stair thing, 3 or 4 steps that drop down 10 or 15 feet off the center.
It looks like a thin chain running where you'd put your hands. It's a guide, a hand rail that would disappear. I'm
glancing up in there and it's all dark, but he wants me to go first. When I get up in there I see the lights are on, on the
inside. It's a room, a center room, 30 feet across but not the full size of the ship. There's half a dozen Zetas in there. It's not formal, they're just milling around. The walls are an off-white, not the usual grayish color. Well maybe it only
looks grayish if the lights aren't on, because a lot of times, when they had these 12 footers, it was during the day and
there wasn't that much need for lighting because the door was open.
I'm very curious. There doesn't seem to be any kind of an agenda. I get the feeling that the door and the little stair
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ZetaTalk: Introductions
have pulled up behind us. I have no idea if we're in motion or not, if we've lifted. I have the notion that we have, but
it's a very gentle liftoff, just a slow rise straight up. I've got my hands in my pockets and I'm looking around. Nobody
seems to be paying any attention to me. There's an archway at the side, to my right, and a couple more of them come
in. It seems to be a cluster, and I see a little one among them, his head is just above their knees. I can't actually see
him because he stays right in the middle of that cluster. He doesn't hang back and he doesn't lead out in front, he's
always right in the middle. I just notice that some of those little legs are smaller than the others, and he's got little
pants on. With the Zetas they're just skin and bones and that's it. You don't know if that's their skin or their outfits. But
he's got little, light colored pants on, slightly baggy, and a little shirt, slightly baggy, and a little dark colored belt,
almost black, thin, maybe an inch wide. His head is very white, and it doesn't have the gray colors that theirs do.
Looks more round rather than the way theirs look, the tear-drop shape. His is more round all over.
They come out into the room and he stays right in the middle of them, for safety. I'm very curious about this. Then
they stand still, and I step sideways to my left a step or two and put my hands to my knees, bending over a little bit to
get a better look because he won't come out. He averts his gaze. He just keeps staring at the middle of my shins or at
my knees. He won't look up. He's just tiny. His head would come just above my knees. He doesn't look like a little
child, with a big belly. He's almost as skinny as they are. He's got his little hands in front of him. I'm saying something
like, "What's your name." I'm introducing myself.
I sit down on the floor and I don't look directly at him. I look off to the right, and he's looking off to the left. I sit
down on the floor, and I unbutton my coat. I sit cross-legged. I'm talking the whole time about clothes, about how I
have pants on too. And then he comes up a little closer. He's at my left shoulder about 8 inches away, looking at me.
As long as I'm not looking at him, and I'm looking off to the right and talking, he lets himself come up. He's checking
out my clothes. I think that's what he's doing. Checking out my pants. I'm saying that I wear pants. I take off a shoe
and show him my foot, that I have toes. I show my hand, that I have fingers. I pull my pants leg up to show him that I
have a knee, and a leg. I'm just nattering on. He kind of walks down toward my leg, staring at my calf and checking it
out. I figure he's curious. I shuck off my coat to show him I have elbows. He's practically on top of me. I'm going up
into the hair of my head and I lean my head forward to show him what the hair is. I pull it to show him that you can
pull it and it doesn't hurt, that it's attached and what it looks like on the scalp where all those little things spring forth.
Then I think I show him my ear and I close my eyes and I open my mouth. I've got my eyes closed because I figure
that opening my mouth might frighten him. I put my own fingers in my mouth and touch my teeth so he can see I'm
not about to bite him. And I feel this little finger, a little touch, like he wants to touch something too. I've got my eyes
closed so he won't be shy.
Then I hear one of them say, "This is your son." So then I open my eyes and I look up. I'm asking how old he is. It
seems like 3 1/2 years. He doesn't have any hair. His head looks like it's all rounded and white. It doesn't look real
hard. It's got dimples here and there. Our skulls are smooth, so I wonder if there's bone under there. Maybe there's just
brain. He has tiny little ears. They're very small. His eyes are hazel colored and they don't have any whites. His
eyeballs are bigger than ours. I don't look at his eyes directly. His eyes are downcast most of the time, or his head's
down most of the time, so I don't really get a full face look at him. He's got slight little bulges over the eyes, not
eyebrows, just the smooth part with a hint of a bulge above the eyes. I ask where he lives, and they say, "With us." I ask, "Why are you doing this?" and they say, "We have to, we've got trouble, and that's why we needed you." They say, "He's turned out well, and he was very curious about you." I'm asking him, communicating telepathically, "Is there anything else you want to know?" He's staring at buttons and things like that. I'm thinking about things like pets,
furry pets and kittens. I wonder what kind of toys they have. They say, "He has a very stimulating environment." I ask,
"Will I see him again?" They say, "Perhaps, if you both want to, we can arrange it." I get the feeling that it's time for me to go. I tell him he's, "Very sweet, just a little doll, so curious." I tell him I thought he turned out well, too. I guess I'm a little teary.
End Nancy's Hypnotic Recall
Begin Nancy's Account
I've recently met my hybrid son, now grown. He's not prone to fat, is bald, and still has his large, beautiful eyes. He
can only make noises, not words, with his mouth, such as "Um humm". As would be expected, he communicated
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ZetaTalk: Introductions
telepathically. I was told he could eat. He said he has no name, but as part of the genetic program, he has a number.
How many kids does he have - 141 and counting. I met some of them. They look much like their father, but are of
both sexes with some in pants and some in dresses, so no cloning, I guess. My hybrid son had 5 fingers, but the little