Episode 34: A Dark Morning, A Night Prolonged

Hey, listeners. Time for a morning ramble.

The voice of Tanner is Charles Raymond.

CW: Loud noise starts at 24:18

Sound effects in this episode courtesy of Freesound.org contributors: kmoon, 18hitlc, mr-keybored, rutgermuller, ericssoundschmiede, and jamitch2.

Nowhere, On Air is created, voiced and produced by Jess Syratt. Cover art by Moon Hermit Crab on Instagram.

We'd love to hear from you! Email us at nowhere.onair@gmail.com. Or, find us on twitter, @NowhereOnAir

Transcript

[THEME MUSIC.]

TANNER: And, we’re back. Just a quick coffee break. [PUTTING HIS MUG DOWN] Well, I’m back. Its me. And River, who made the coffee. 

Good morning, folks. If you're just waking up, or otherwise just tuning in, welcome. It's no longer 9:07. Not sure when that happened, it just kind of… did. It’s 10… [TRYING TO READ] 46 now, I think. I’m trying to read the microwave from over here. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but it's still… dark. But, one thing at a time, I guess, is all we can ask for. 

I want to say it's less dark than it was earlier, but that might just be wishful thinking. Or maybe- my eyes just getting used to it. Y’know, how you can get used to a dark room, eyes scraping up every last bit of light, and you can start to make out the shape and shadows of things after a while. Everytime I look out the window, I think I can make out a little bit more of the trees, of the shapes of the mountains… 

For those of you who have been listening for a while… I’m trying not to be worried about it, but… Jess still hasn’t come back. You might remember she said she was popping out for 5 minutes… well, I guess, over an hour ago at least, but, yeah. No sign of her yet. If you see her, tell her that we’re worried about her. Not so worried that I’m gonna wake anyone else up yet, but… Jess, if you’re listening, uh, yeah. Just a little worried. We have a good reason to be worried about you disappearing, given a certain history—

[A DOOR CLOSES.]

TANNER: Oh, speak of the devil. Where have you been? 

[BREAK MUSIC.] 

JESS: Hey folks, sorry about that. Lost track of time. And then had to convince Tanner that I’m good to keep going. Honestly surprised I won that discussion, but here I am. 

I’m at the point now where I need to see this through, y’know? 

TANNER: [Distant] You promised you’d take a day off when this is done. A full day. 

JESS: That might have done it. Also the $20. That might have helped. 

But it's me. Jess. On my… millionth cup of coffee. With nothing to talk about so… I’m just gonna let myself ramble. I can’t promise it’ll be interesting but, to those of you still here: thanks for sticking with our noise. 

I truthfully just went for some fresh air, and fully intended to be no more than five minutes, but then going for some air turned into going for a walk, and you know how sometimes you just forget that time is a… thing? A thing ever moving even when you’re standing still. And that your experience of life is shared with other people aware and sometimes even concerned about the state of your existence? 

On these long and quiet nights it's easy to get caught up in your own thoughts and the depth of your own memories. Thoughts and memories can be like weeds at the bottom of a pond, lurking, wrapping around your ankle, pulling you further under, deeper, into the darkness below… sometimes they’re so thick and, and heavy that it's hard to breathe and— 

Anyways. Yeah. I went for a walk, got a little lost in my own head, and ended up at the burning remains of what was once Farmer Crawford’s field. What was once a field overtaken by lavender and fire. I just- stood there for a while to be honest, so maybe it was less of a walk and more of– contemplative stand. I’m in a contemplative mood, apparently. 

But I stood at the edge of the field, soil blackened and still warm beneath my feet and I just– took it all in. 

It was hard to really see too much in the dark, half-moon doing its best, but the remains of the field had a presence that didn’t need to be seen to be known. The lingering smell in the air, acrid smoke with just a hint of floral sweetness. The absent sound of a knee-high field no longer there to sway with the breeze. The last breaths of whatever breathed through that fire sputtering out and rattling with every gentle gust. A faint brushing against my cheeks that I knew to be the last, lingering hands of smoke rising and reaching up from the earth, reaching for me. 

The sinking feeling that something used to be there. 

Or maybe it was the feeling of being watched, I don’t know. I don’t think so. It felt too lonely, out there. I don’t remember the last time darkness in Braedon felt so empty. I used to find that unsettling, but it's a scarier thing, an emptiness that makes you wish for at least one pair of eyes in the darkness to watch you. 

And it was so… quiet. Like, the world’s holding its breath and waiting for a dawn that still hasn’t really come. A morning deadened by darkness and smoke and absence, in so many ways nothing more than a night prolonged. 

And I don’t know how many of you have ever seen a burned thing, listeners; especially a thing you once knew. Once loved. Watching it burn is another story, but, just standing before the charred and still vaguely smoking remains of something no longer what it used to be. It’s… hollowing. Makes you feel as though you too might crumble into ashes and charcoal pieces if something touched or held you too hard. 

And that was the closest I’ve physically been to town since I’ve been back. Though in some ways it made me feel like I hadn’t come back, that this was all a dream… and I was still… [CLEARS THROAT] but in other ways, it was also the closest I’ve felt to being back. Seeing the lights of the town in the distance. Watching those swirling colours, our own northern lights, stretch across the sky from the other side of the river and into the night. 

And then, I had the pleasure of running into some… some old friends. “Running into” not in any literal sense, but as I walked down along the dirt road, I could just make out two shadow-obscured figures walking side by side in the dark, some meters ahead of me. They were dressed in dark, well-fitted clothes. Suits. One of them looked like they were carrying a briefcase of some sort… 

I didn’t realize I had stopped walking, even stopped breathing until they vanished up the path, heading in, what seemed to me, the direction of the river. I don’t think they noticed me. I kinda forgot about those guys, to be honest. 

But, I froze. Like a three-eyed deer in headlights. And I waited. A little while. Just stayed there and- and listened to the distance. For any sound– for the breeze picking up, the sounds of life from the town, the call of an animal in the distance I did not recognize. 

And then, I heard another crunching set of footprints on the gravel road behind me, and turned around to see two more figures, obscured in the lightless morning, one carrying a case, faces not shadowed, but familiar. Smiles, familiar. Voices softly echoing in the openness, voices saying “hello” and “goodmorning, Jess.”  

It was Herman Blanchard, who said he was out on behalf of the stargazing club which is apparently still meeting, and Weatherman Todd, who said he was out on behalf of the Mountain Watch, and also the weather.

And on that note, I can happily report we have a weather forecast for you this morning. 

Weatherman Todd predicts, with special thanks to recent data collected by the stargazing club, that if this strange, inexplicably long night keeps up, there’s a good chance we’ll get to see a meteor shower in a bit. I can’t quantify this “good chance” in terms of odds or a percentage, or “in a bit” as an actual amount of time as Todd did not give me either, but I will say he seemed– hopeful. As for the not-yet-risen sun, he had no theories or answers, though, said “its probably safe to just- assume it will eventually. 

I asked them what they were up to this dark morning, and in response, Herman relayed to me a cryptic message that he asked me not to repeat on air or quote “in the company we are temporarily keeping,” unquote but told me I would soon understand what he meant when it happens. He seemed- nervous. He clutched the handle of the case tighter as we spoke and seldom looked me in the eye. 

After our little conversation, the pair headed north, I think, and faded into the moonlit, shadowed distance before I thought to ask them where they were going. 

Thanks Todd, for sharing that forecast! We’ll keep our eyes on the skies this morning, with hearts hopeful for some light in the dark to come. 

And thanks, Herman– it was nice to see you, and… being a keeper of cryptic messages never gets old. It's- nostalgic, in a way. Feels kinda like the good old days. Cryptic messages. Meteor showers. Lights in the sky. Strange encounters in the dark. 

Not that encounter: there’s nothing strange about running into old friends on a dark road on the edge of town on a morning with no sun, exchanging weather forecasts and statements with hidden meanings. And I don’t mean nearly running into the persons-

in-suits, because I don’t think I would classify that as an encounter. I mean a different strange encounter I had on my way back to where I currently am. 

I took the same path home as I did to the field– I find that’s a pretty good strategy to prevent y’know, getting lost, and those of us familiar with this particular road know it is lined by a fair amount of trees at a particular point. As I was passing under these trees, I heard singing. Like, birdsong. Seeing as it is technically the morning, I didn’t think too much about it, until I passed under a tree echoing a particularly loud and unfamiliar song. Too big and too strange for any bird I could recall.  

Now, folks, I made the mistake of looking up to see what kind of bird it was. Turns out, it wasn’t. I’m admittedly a little out of practise on some Braedon-isms, specifically and apparently when it comes to those things that aren’t birds that sit in the trees, singing. 

I also have lost the habit of carrying birdseed around in my pocket, so, when the song stopped and I heard the branches above me rustling and cracking, saw a shadow shifting between the yellowing leaves, and a brief flash of eyes in the moonlight… [LAUGHS NERVOUSLY] I don’t remember the last time I ran that fast. 

Good ol’ Braedon, huh? You’re lonely and wish for something to be out there in the dark, and then there’s something out there, in the dark. 

[CUP SCRAPES ON THE TABLE, SHE TAKES A SIP] 

And then, on my uh, run home I– I don’t know why I thought about it, but I wanted to stop and visit James but– I couldn’t quite remember where she was. Which field, which tree Clark and Tanner… I, I don’t know. I don’t know. I realized I haven’t been since coming back and… I was looking and… 

I kinda got lost on my way. Well, not got lost, but as I was looking, I’d strayed from the path I was on and– everything looks… both the same and also totally different shadowed. Even the most familiar of paths can become strange and unknown in the dark. Even the path home. 

But, obviously, I made it home. I’m home. And I’m here. With you, in sound and voice. And… and it's the morning. The day has started. 

And, it will bring… things. 

[MUSIC]

Can I say something, like, from the heart, folks? I know you normally don’t mind, and can’t actually say no… well you can, I just won’t hear you as per the nature of our relationship, but I do like to ask for permission to talk about personal things, when I remember. 

We don’t usually broadcast at this time so I don’t actually know how many of you are still listening. If you can shut your radios off at all. If Martin has his radio playing at the grocery store, or if Stephen’s listening at Mountainview, whether Adam's got this going over the gas station speakers, or if it's coming through over that radio out in that one field no one’s ever felt compelled to move… 

I just… you know, like I said, I was contemplating while I was out there, wandering in the dark which I know is something we often warn you against. But I was just thinking. About being gone. And being back. And Braedon– being itself. I can’t really say if it's different or the same because. Because. 

Like a good friend recently said to me, people change. We have to. And I think now that’s true of places too. Cause Braedon seems different. Maybe only to me, but it does. I’ve never– lost my way before. I’ve never felt so alone in the dark. But just because it's different, doesn’t mean it's not itself. 

And, I don’t know how different I seem. Maybe I don’t? I feel it but– I’ve been trying to be like me, like I used to be, whatever that means. Especially on air. I feel better at it right now, but if I’ve been super different… Sorry. I just- I do want to apologize for it. To all of you. Sometimes I’m better at it than others. Sometimes- I just don’t have the energy to be the person I was. And even when I do, sometimes I don’t know if I always remember how. 

But, all that being said, right now, this morning, this moment… I feel good, listeners. Well, maybe not good, but better. Maybe it was the fresh air, maybe it was the several drinks I had earlier, but I feel— yeah. I’m okay this morning. And I wanted to say that. Recognize that. Out loud. It felt important. 

And I hope, given everything, you are all okay too. 

Sometimes things feel not fine. Sometimes things are not fine. But right now, in this moment at least, I think they're okay. Despite everything. The okayness of things is somet– 

[A DEEP RUMBLING SOUND. A LONG, PULSING STATIC.]