Episode 36: Tape #?

Hey, folks. We're back, like we promised. We have some updates, and also, something that was inexplicably tucked under my pillow.

Today's episode features a trailer for the awesome Hell Gate City, a horror-comedy, radio-show formatted show with a cyber-punk dystopia flair. Friends of Nowhere, On Air, tune in to host Kirby Bevins as nightmares and mystery begin to bubble and the truth, dangerous as it might be, comes out . Check out the stellar Hell Gate City here! Follow them on twitter, and find them wherever you get your podcasts!

Song in this episode written and performed by Jess Syratt.

Sound effects in this episode thanks to Freesound.org contributors:
bexhillcollege, onekellyordered, aviziv, and alsounknownasa.

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

JESS: Hey folks. Us again, back, like we promised. After taking a break, like we also promised. 

I hope you weren’t too lonely in our absence. I have to say, it was a bit… strange, not having a show. In a relaxing kind of way, though. Don’t tell the others I said that. 

I’m back, I slept, truly I did, and I’m feeling refreshed. Like a new person. Though, it's important to note that I’m not a new person. I’m still me. Jess. Not an imposter, not a voice that sounds like me or something that’s trying to trick you. Just me. 

Though, how would you know? Really? 

Sorry, that’s a bad joke. It's me. I promise. The same Jess. 

Welcome back to Nowhere, On Air. Haven’t said that in a while. 

I feel like this is as good a time as any to admit that we have very little ‘community radio’ to keep bringing you, folks, in terms of uh, scheduled programming. I know it's come up in the past, but I wanna say it again as it was something we especially discussed over our day off. 

I hope we’re entertaining enough. And helpful enough. And you’re not, sick of us after that long night. That’s really what it boiled down to. We’re doing our best, and I hope it's nice to have a bit of time in our evenings when we can talk about things, and maybe even pretend said things are… not so weird and shitty. 

Where maybe, for some brief moments in the grand scheme of total moments, we can pretend that so much of what’s happened recently hasn’t happened, and maybe it's like, a year ago, and it's just sort of a normal show, whatever that means, and, and we’re all just happier and life is… 

Well, I was going to say ‘good,’ but… life is what it is, you know?

Sometimes I wonder if it's unhelpful, at least for me personally, to assign ‘good’ or ‘bad’ to it. Though, I guess when we do categorize it as ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ we are viewing this conglomeration of varied experiences called ‘life’ through the lens of our own emotional landscape in the ‘here and now’ of each moment. 

But, life is not a thing with moral intentions, as far as I understand it. Its just- things happening that either bring joy, and we call it good, or harm in some way, and we call it bad. But those labels depend on us, not life. Not that we are responsible for those things, but its our response to experience that prompts us too… 

You know, speaking of things happening to us. This morning, you know what happened? Which, in a weird sort of way, felt normal?  

I found something inexplicably tucked under my pillow. This isn’t the first time this has happened to me, as many of you might remember, but it is the first time it's happened since I’ve been back. So, it's been a while. I forgot how it makes you feel this feeling I’d describe as equal parts violated and wonder. 

It was– is, I guess– a tape. I guess my curiosity has been somewhat stunted or dulled, as I haven’t actually been able to bring myself to listen to it. 

Obviously it crossed my mind, as I imagine it has crossed most of yours’, that maybe it was put there by one of the others also living here. We have a tape recorder. We’ve used said tape recorder. But, I don’t know. Its a different colour than the one we have– sort of dark with an iridescent sheen that makes it hard to pin down an exact colour. Plus, all of them pinkie promised that they didn’t do it. And I’m inclined to trust them, as they’re my friends and… yeah. 

I’m… a little scared to listen to it, I think. There’s no label, there was no note with it. It's just a tape. Just… I learned a while ago to stop asking the questions of “how did this happen? How did this seemingly but probably not random object appear in a weirdly personal space?” and more “why did this happen? Why did this seemingly but probably not random object appear in a weirdly personal space?” 

I guess, it’ll be hard to answer that question about this object in particular without, y’know, knowing what’s on it. 

[SHE PUTS THE TAPE DOWN ON THE TABLE]

I- I’m gonna have to talk myself into it. Let's table this for now, and revisit it later. 

Um, in terms of what else has been going on around here… I haven’t seen Martha in a while. And by in a while, I just mean like– generally. I think she’s kinda been keeping to herself and her room in the quiet moments which, me too so no judgement there. She just, she used to come and stop in every once in a while and she hasn’t been doing that, but… I guess that’s not really radio worthy, sorry. Uh… 

Oh! David’s been working on something in the basement that involves electrical stuff and things. He was very mysterious about the inspiration and inception of this new project, and has expressed a desire for it to be a surprise, so we’ve all done our best to give him his space as we await whatever surprise this might be. Though, I should admit we have started a running tally of the amount of times he’s accidentally shocked himself. So far, the number is… 7, I think? 

[BREAK]

Let's discuss the news I relayed to you a little too casually last time, and specifically, let's discuss the referenced implications. I think Herman’s permission to share covered this. If not, well, we’ll see how long it takes one of those guys to run over here and tell me to shut up. 

Basically, I’m sure we all remember but I’ll say it anyway: some folks blew up the radio tower on Farmer Daniels’ property. And by some folks, I mean Herman Blanchad was definitely directly, explicitly involved, and Weatherman Todd Steveson was somehow also involved. 

Further, Herman Blancahrd, it is known, is in “cahoots” if you will, one way or another with some other folks in town; a fact we’ve derived from a few instances, primarily being a  demonstration that happened in the motel parking lot, and the subsequent freeing of Farmer Daniels from wherever he was being detained.

I will refrain from listing the names of these “folks” though I have done so on air before, just in case their stance on publicity has changed, but I will note this group did include the late William Glendin. Also, now that I’m mentioning it, this group was also the one that reportedly assisted Clarence in breaking back into his property to steal something. We still don’t know what it was, or is, and if it’s related at all to what happened, but… I thought we should just clock that for all of you. 

The implications, in my mind at least, are that this group is doing something. Doing something about our situation. Taking action, if you will… though, to repeat my own point from last time, speculation isn’t the most responsible thing for me to do on air. 

But, they’ve done a fair few somethings recently. More than we’ve ever done, if you really think about it. But, we’re the ones who’ll tell you about it. So we got that going for us. 

[BREAK]

Our next segment that I get to dictate because I don’t have a script: let’s talk about a dream I had last night and the sense of… inevitability and dread it filled me with that I’ve been struggling to shake. 

I know dreams are a common discussion point of mine and I hope you don’t find it tiresome, listeners.

It was one of those dreams where the world was… foggy, around the edges. Darkness sifting and wavering in all corners, shadows all deep and stretching. In the dream, I was sitting at a table. The dark was so thick, like a cloud, that I couldn’t really tell anything beyond that. I was sitting at a table, and there was… a figure sitting across from me. Seemingly faceless in the dark, I really only knew them by the shade they cast in the strange, writhing half-light. 

We were sitting by a window. That’s one of those- things you just know about your dream because it is your own. And the way the light came in, only coming from one side of us. We were by a window, and there was something in the distance, whatever and wherever that distance was. But there was something in it, rumbling and groaning and pulsing with sound and light. And it was getting closer. 

And- in this dream, I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t turn my head to face it, to see what was coming. And- I couldn’t run. Everything in me screamed to run and my instinct was to do whatever I could to make sure that I wasn’t there when it arrived… that this thing was bad. Stomach dropping, air-sucked- out-of-the-room, teeth flashing before you in the darkness kind of bad. But I was stuck. And I could hear the sounds of, just the sound of something dying. Not like, a living thing, but almost like– and, I’ve never said this before but forgive my poetic imposition– but it sounded like the death rattle of a world. Or, or just something beyond. The sound of an end. It drew suffocatingly closer and closer and louder, and then, in the last breath of the dream, I heard a voice. Telling me to wake up. A voice that– that sounded familiar, but I can’t place it. I even knew its echo, but… it told me to wake up, and I did. 

I guess nightmare is probably a better word than ‘dream.’ But. I woke up to the tattoo behind my ear whispering, which hasn’t happened in a while. Overall, today, it's been more talkative than normal. There was definitely a period it was quiet enough I could forget it was there, but now… apparently it's got a lot to say. Nothing I can understand, mind you, it's just sort of- whispers. 

[WHSIPERS. BREAK]

Does anyone actually remember what month it is? Does nature even remember what season it is? When I was outside earlier, I saw both trees half-gripped by its autumn turning, and some with new, green buds that haven’t even blossomed yet. 

Anyways, I was just recalling that I stood outside this evening before the show, cup of tea warm between my palms as I stood in the cool breeze, and listened for that sound. Y’know, the one I asked all of you to also listen for. 

It was tea and not coffee because River has “cut me off” from “significant caffeine sources” for “a while” whatever that means, though I’m not sure who gave them the authority to do that. However, given the nature of like, who they are… I’m not super interested in contesting that authority. 

But, all this to say, I heard it. I did listen for and hear it last night, too. And- I don’t know if I want to say this, but… it sounds like… a very mild, soft version of what I heard in my dream. 

I asked Stephen if he knew anything about it, and he politely asked me to stop talking to him so much. I understand why he’s grumpy. He’s got every right to be. Sidenote, for those of you maybe worried about his well-being, I promise we’re taking good care of him. I managed to talk the others into letting him come out of River’s room more, and- [WHISPERS] between you and me, I don’t think he’ll be here much longer. Shh.

Speaking of sounds last night, if you’re wondering what that echoing, layered screaming in the distant air was, it was us. While it wasn’t like, the specific holiday day for it, we collectively decided screaming would be good for group morale, so we hiked out to a field together. All of us but River, who declined to come, and Stephen who- obviously just, wasn’t even invited. 

I should clarify, this was around… 11:00? Maybe closer to midnight. The distant sound of wailing around 8 or 9 wasn’t us, it was too far away. But we heard it too. 

And it wasn’t just a random field, it was… well, I had asked the others if we could all go visit James, because I couldn’t quite remember where her field was, and while we were there we got talking about James, and then about Clark who found her, Clark who’s still lost, and that sort of bled into… everyone we’ve lost and… everyone we miss… 

Screaming is a form of meditation, I think. A form of release, and a form of… bonding, too. All together pressing the air from your lungs into the collective air around you, in some raw, deliberate expression of grief and rage and all those emotions that latch on to your chest and throat, with teeth that burn and eat away at you. 

[PAUSE]

It was nice. But sorry if it startled you. That’s the point I’m trying to make, I think. 

[BREAK]

Alright, folks. It's been wriggling away like a nightcrawler in the dirt of my brain, and while I’ve admitted my reckless curiosity has been dampened, it has not dwindled entirely. I put the tape into our little player here, and my finger’s been hovering over ‘play’ the entire break, but- I need the emotional support of you all listening with me, I think. 

We’re in this together, y’know? Or, I’m in this and dragging you along with me. I mean, you can turn your radios off if you really want to, but- okay. I’m gonna hit play. 

[SONG PLAYS]

A shadow extends on the face of the water
A rippling twin in the current 
Is my body still mine when I'm lost? 
Knee deep in memories
Rising higher and higher

But I don't recognize the face
Staring back up from the river
But my god, she looks tired
Its never enough, its never enough just to know 

Oh shadow on the face of the water
Oh rippling twin reach up, pull me down, down down
Make clear this body in your depths
Cleanse the mud of my memories off this battered skin cause

I don't recognize the face
Staring back up from the river
But my god, she looks tired
Its never enough, its never enough just to know

Oh cold water, rushing mirror
Show me my history
And I'll show you all the scars
That paved the way to here
Every road on which I bled
Every stone on the river bed
So you can soothe the red and ache of my grief

I don't recognize the face
Staring back up from the river
But my god, she looks tired
Its never enough, its never enough just to know

And do you hear that voice on the distance
Crying out?
I don't know what its saying
But I know its for me
Its never just to go

[PAUSE. SNIFF.]

JESS: Uh. Wow. Okay. I didn’t recognize it at first but… but that, I’m pretty damn sure, was the song that was playing on my radio, in my car, when I pulled into the gas station that– yeah. 

You know how, I think we’ve talked about it before, how smell is the strongest trigger of memory? Something about proximity to the places our brains process different things but… I don’t know. The sound of that song just brought me right back into the moment. In my car. Some of the last moments I had before—

[BEAT. SHE SMASHES THE TAPE. ANGRY SIGH]

Can I be honest with you, listeners? I really don’t care who made that or why or when they tucked it under my pillow, or however they did any of it. Just- yeah. I don’t care.

[BEAT. PROCESS]

Uh. Yeah. Sorry folks. I think- I think that’s where we’re going to call it tonight. 

Thanks for tuning in. 

ADVERTISEMENT:

KIRBY: Kirby Bevens, host for Neal Amsterdam news. My father disappeared 6 years ago. I've had amnesia about our final moments, until now. Boy was he irritating, I suspect he ghosted, literally. I could be wrong, but I did wake up 17 times last night, screaming after he said this in my nightmare. (INDISTINCT VOICE) Was he murdered? Or worse. You’re in Hellgate city. Start with episode 0.

JESS: Hi folks, not often you hear from me, Jess here, just popping on to say that was a trailer for Hellgate city; a horror comedy radio show, with a cyberpunk dystopia flare. Tune in to host Kirby Bevens as nightmares and mystery begin to bubble and the truth, dangerous as it might be, comes to the surface. It’s a show with character, wit and a lot of indie heart that you just can’t deny. The creator and voice actor of its host Kevin is also a friend of the show and is working really hard on season 2 so now is the perfect time to catch up. There’s a link to their website in the description. You can follow them on twitter @Hellgatecity and find them wherever you get your podcasts. They’re one of the first shows I listened to after kind of creating my own and, yeah, I just whole-heartedly recommend them.

Thanks for listening, I hope you enjoy.