Episode 49: Neither Here Nor There

The sleepless nights when reality seems more fluid than normal. Normal being a loaded term here in Braedon.

The voice of Tanner is Chuck Raymond. The voice of Clark is Shaun Pellington. The voice of The Faceless is Angela Yih. The voice of Town Council Member Stephen is Harlan Guthrie. The voice of Martha is Day Chase.

CW: Existentialism, uncertain reality, loud exclamations, fourth wall break, paranoia, distress, depictions of injury, mention of bugs in skin.

Sound effects this episode courtesy of freesound.org contributors: joviansounds, Kmoon, harveyjnz, cognito perceptu, 18hiltc, snapalicious32, dkaufman, 15gpanskabokstefflova, amcayden, kianoow, mtjohnson, tferrino, merle0092, ryding, harleto, dazero, pointlessperson1, klangfabrik, betostado99, sillygrizzlies, toefur, iut-paris8, kd-jack, ravenwolfprods, wdomino

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

We'd love to hear from you! Email us at nowhere.onair@gmail.com. Or, find us on Bluesy, @nowhereonair.bsky.social

Transcript

JESS: So how do I close it? Wh- where did–? Don’t just leave me here! How do I close it?! What the hell do you want me to do?! 

[REVERSAL OF TRANSITION INTO DREAM. MUFFLED VOICES. STATIC. JESS GASPS LIKE SHE’S WOKEN UP FROM A NIGHTMARE. A FEW BREATHS. SHE SOUNDS SHAKY. VOICES FADING IN:]

CLARK: Can you hear us? 

TANNER: Hey— you're okay, you’re good. 

JESS: What?

TANNER: You were dreaming. 

JESS: Did you hear all that? 

CLARK: You were talking in your sleep. 

JESS: No, I wasn’t- sleeping, I was… 

TANNER: Who were you talking to? 

JESS: I- I don’t know how to explain-- 

CLARK: We’ve been trying to wake you for a while, you were… 

TANNER: Trapped. You were just… sitting there. Eyes closed, talking but… 

CLARK: Are you feeling alright? 

JESS: Yeah, you don’t have to– I’m fine-

CLARK: Are you sure? You’re burning up– 

JESS: You guys didn’t–? I was… I don’t know why I’m crying– ih shit my nose…

TANNER: What were you dreaming about? 

JESS: I was in a diner- I– you didn’t hear any of that? 

CLARK: Why don’t we take a break? 

JESS: Uh- let me just-- 

[BREAK]

JESS: Okay listeners. I don’t know how much of that you heard, how much of that bled through and into reality. I still-- I feel like I’m floating. Like I’m still sitting here, but also in the middle of nowhere, and also in that diner. Many moments at once. And my body, my mind, is a vessel too… small, made of such stuff too fragile to house all of it. 

But …it was my dream. That one I had- two years ago. Maybe more. Maybe less. I don’t know, I- know you couldn’t see it, listeners, as is the nature of this show and the time we spend together, so, I’ll describe it to you. Before I forget it. While I still feel this strange, electric, buzz, like adrenaline, but… corrosive… 

I was there, and it all came rushing back like a sudden gust of October wind. From when I dreamed it before. I saw me-- her. 

She was no shorter, no taller. She was younger, by a few years but more in a spiritual sense than anything else. We have the same green eyes. 

And I remember, for how much grief I was carrying then, when I was her, how lost and estranged I felt, there’s so much grief to come and I wonder- 

Do I tell her? I remember how she sees me. The summer that stretches on a few weeks too long. The night that seems to stay dark and never break. The fire that burns itself out. 

Do I tell her why? Do I warn her about what happens? About all the grief and pain she’s going to experience becoming me? About all the things she is never going to understand? Would I want to know? I was her. I should know. Would I want to know? 

Or, do I tell her that there are things that make it worth it? Things like stormy days, cloudless nights… and lights in the sky you can’t explain but they are there and whatever they mean, they’re beautiful. Friends who take you in. Over and over again. People- people who love you. People you love. Hands you hold. Maybe they’re only in your life for- for a moment in the grand scheme of it all but they were there and you loved them. 

And a home that doesn’t look how you ever expected or at first even wanted, but it's a home and it's yours and you learn all the roads that lead back to it. 

I decide on the middle. I want to just tell her things are okay- that they will be okay. I mean, I’m alive. Scarred and- and aching, but no one alive is unscarred and unaching. 

And in the dream her hands are so smooth and warm as I reach across the cool linoleum table to grab them. To make sure that she’s- real. She’s there. 

And we’re- we’re connected and solid. 

And I open my mouth to tell her things will be okay- that they don’t have to be okay, but they will be, and I don’t know how yet, but somehow- but then, I wake up. She wakes up. And I go deeper into a dream that- that I’m still processing. 

It… it feels strange. To have been on the other side of that table. 

And the other end of my own dream. I don’t even know where to start. Elliot, The Faceless… 

I don’t remember their face… like a dream you know you had but escapes you. I guess that checks out, but… yeah. I’m sorry, if I had known it was going to be like that, I don’t think I would have stayed on air. I don’t know what to say about it. I- I just feel… 

I don’t know. I don’t understand. I feel like someone has just shouted at me from the other end of a road while waving their arms and no matter how hard they try, the only way I’m going to understand is to– join them at the other end of the road. But I’m so tired… 

[MUSIC STARTS]

Folks, for those of you who have had… something of a similar, strangely lucid experience today… I don’t think I have any advice beyond take it easy. I can’t even imagine what some of you may have dreamt of, or why, so… talk- [CLEARS THROAT] Talk to a friend or a loved one. Someone nearby, close. 

Or, if you don’t have anyone, which I hope is not the case, find the nearest field, and talk to the night. To the sky and the stars-- if you trust whatever few, few ever-watchful, burning eyes that still hang there. Talk to the trees and the wind that shakes them. To the shadowed, bristling things that wander and lurk and stalk in the expansive dark. Let the Fog absorb the sound of your voice. They all listen. They all know what it is to ache with something bigger than yourself. We weren’t meant to face the unknown alone. 

[COUGHS] 

I’m… I promised Clark I would go lay down and drink water or whatever, so… 

Well, I was going to say goodnight, folks, and sweet dreams, as the clock says it’s getting pretty late… but I guess it might sound like a mean joke given everything. It isn’t, and time isn’t real, so instead I’ll say “good morning” and hope we all wake up from this, nightmare, dream, whatever it is, soon. 

Thanks for tuning in. 

[STATIC. WEIRD INTERLUDE. VOICES AGAIN. INTO:] 

JESS: I don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep after that. 

Clark and Tanner are asleep. I think. So I should probably keep it down. I promised I would be too, but I can’t. I tried. For hours I tried. And I would have gone for walk, but… I feel… sick. [DISTORTION, STATIC] The static. It- it calls to me. I don’t know if you can hear it, but… wherever I am, if there’s silence or stillness, it… it begs to fill it… it hurts my ears, my mind, like its ringing. Like constant feedback through crackling speakers. 

And don’t ask me how, but I know you’re listening. Wherever you are. You have to be. Holding on to that kept me going for so long when I was gone…  and I think it might be the only thing that gets me through this… 

[ECHOES OF JESS TALKING TO MARTHA IN PAST EPISODES]

I need to talk to you. But I can’t go knock on your door and… That’s my fault. And it's my fault that I haven’t even just… gone to find you. And I hope one day I get to tell you face to face how sorry I am. 

And this is all also my fault. Apparently. Which– I don’t know. I don’t know. 

I mean, we didn’t start this, did we? I didn’t start this… Braedon was weird before I got here. Right? All you were doing, all I’m doing is a job that could and does exist in so many other places. Despite what– what Stephen said about us– about me not doing what I was told to do, or saying what I was told to say–

[ECHOES OF CONVERSATIONS FROM PAST EPISODES]

I’ve been so worried that… that Tanner’s right. I think it was all for me. I think I hoped that if we pulled the truth out into the light, that I'd find the path home. 

And then I found the path home, but time had already had its way with it. 

[SIGHS]

I made this bed, and I made so many of us lie in it. And I’ve had so much time to think, now that the– relief of being home has faded. 

I am here. I- I thought I could just let it all go. I couldn’t appreciate being here enough last time I was… and I thought, I was being given a second chance. Turns out I’m… ruining it all, I guess. And I- 

I couldn’t live with myself if anyone else got hurt. Too many people have already been hurt [COUGHING]. 

[FIGHT FROM EPISODE 41]  

I think I didn’t say anything because part of me was hoping you would leave. You were the last thing I ever wanted to say goodbye to, but… you can get out. I hope you got out. 

This is all I have left. This- this microphone, this static, this is my home. Not like I could move back in with John and Carol, and my trailer’s gone, so… 

This is my home. The radio. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop doing this. 

It's like– seeing a distant farm house, far across a field, and I’ve been walking for so long, and watching the lights go out in the window and the whole world plunges into darkness. There’s no other port in this storm except right where I am. 

There’s nowhere else for me to go. 

Staying here with you, being back here, with you, would have been… more than enough for me. 

I don’t know how this ends. But I know my dreams. And part of me feels stupid for not seeing this coming. [COUGHS. WINCES.] 

I just- I feel like I’m in a perpetual state of needing to clear my head. But it's a mess of cables like that box in the back closet you and I spent hours sorting but could never untangle. 

I went outside to try and feel the wind on my face and I— I couldn’t. I could see that it was blowing, I could hear it, but… I just felt nothing. No coolness. No relief. 

Maybe I’m just- in a weird headspace and it's actually too late at night to be having any thoughts about my life I take seriously, especially because my understanding of reality has once again been fundamentally altered, but Todd told me something played the other night that– um… 

[ECHOES OF IT] 

I don’t know how it happened, because that recording doesn’t exist anymore. It doesn’t, I– I erased it. I– I don’t know how that could have played. And I– after what John said and now tonight and after everything that keeps happening, after my dream or whatever the fuck that was happened, I… 

[ECHOES OF JOHN, ECHOES OF THE DREAM] 

I don’t like this. I don’t like any of it. I’m sure that’s obvious, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

I can’t do this. I can’t. How? How am I supposed to fix this? I’m just- me. I’m just what I am and stuck here and all I have ever wanted is to go home and now I’m supposed to stop the end of the fucking world? It sounds so- so stupid and absurd to say it out loud. This- this can’t be what’s happening, right? This can’t be what all of this has come to. I didn’t ask to be here-

[COUGHING. SIGHS. GETTING QUIETER AGAIN. ECHOES: IT DOESN’T MATTER THAT ITS YOU. BUT IT IS YOU.] 

I feel like it’s all— it makes too much sense, and no sense at the same time. And I don’t know what else I should expect from my life at this point. 

[ECHOES OF THAT DREAM FROM BEFORE] 

It’s all my fault. I did this. I know that. I don’t know how it is, but it is, and I don’t know how any of this is happening so how could I know the first thing about fixing it? But I’m gonna fix it. This is my promise to you, Martha, and to whoever and whatever else might be listening. All this is making for pretty shitty late night radio, for that I’m sorry, and I may not understand what it is I’m saying but I promise I’ll make this right. Whatever I started here. Here– 

[SHE TAPS THE MIC. FUZZY STATIC, DISTORTION. THEN]. 

JESS: Whoa- I… 

That dream stuff must still be going on cause I- I’m all dizzy and I’m- somewhere else again. I’m-

[NEIGHBOURHOOD AMBIENCE FADES IN]

No, no no no… not this-  this isn’t fair. Please. Not this dream. Please, take me back. Wake up, wake up, wake up, please– 

VOICE, DISTANT: Hey, hun? Jess just called- she’s on her way. 

I have had this one before. I stand here on the threshold. I am home and the front door is closed. The window is open, I can hear their voices inside… 

VOICE: I think she’ll be here after supper, but I’ll make enough just in case. 

And I’m too scared to knock. I’m me. This me. Now. I am not the one they’re expecting to come home. 

Would they recognize me? How much different can I be and still call this place home? What if I step inside the house and it no longer feels like home? 

JESS: [TO HERSELF] Wake up, please– I- [TRANSITION. SNIFFS] I’m back. Awake, perhaps, is the proper term, though the line between sleeping and waking is more like a beaded curtain. 

I was really hoping we were done with that, to be honest. 

[LAUGHS WEAKLY, BITTERLY] 

I’m talking like– I don’t know why I can’t- I can’t exist without assuming someone out there is listening. There must be, right? You, and is it just you? Or is there someone else out there? 

You, yes, you– right now, with my words, meeting your ears. I am talking to you, listener. In whatever half-quiet moment this is now. You hear me. This is for you. I am talking for you, because… somehow I know you’re out there. You are listening to me, and I exist. Are those things dependent on each other? Have I been here, sitting here, so much that now my existence is intertwined with this somehow? Is that why I can’t let it go? Have you had a hand in making me what I am?

[SIGHS] What am I even saying? 

[ECHOES OF THE FACELESS DREAM AGAIN] 

The Faceless said change. I- I have. I am not the same person  who slipped through the cracks from one dimension into the other in some random gas station in some town I am starting to forget the name of, that does not exist here. I don’t- I don’t feel like I am her anymore. Not much, anyways. 

There is so much I have lost and carried on without– isn’t that change? Or is it just growth? What’s the difference? 

What do I have to change? If growth is just– shifting, adjusting, then change is more? Change like Ethan and Tristan Crawford? Like John? Does that mean I’m going to feel even less like myself… ? And become something else? 

[MORE ECHOES. RISING STATIC. STARTS TO BECOME INDECIPHERABLE] 

Time to stop thinking. This– I’m gonna- [GETTING UP] Be right back. 

[LEAVES AND RETURNS. SITS DOWN] 

JESS: For anyone listening, first off, why? Second, let's have a late night story time. I take back what I said about the journal earlier. I need to get out of the fickle here and now for a second. Ground myself in what has already happened and– face the risk that maybe it’s not quite that simple. 

[FLIPS THROUGH JOURNAL]

Alright. [CLEARS THROATS] This one looks good. It’s a series of entries… There’s dirt smudged all over these pages. 

[READING]

“There was an accident down in the mine today. No one was killed, thank god, but Cornelius Fetting was buried as the new eastern tunnel collapsed. It took several men and several hours, but we managed to clear enough by the end of the day that he could hear our voices, and we could in turn hear him, like a low voice calling in the distance. He seems in good spirits, all things considered. He claims that it “ain’t all that dark” down there, however, and that, as strange as it sounds, he swears there’s light, coming from somewhere down the tunnel. 

[PAGE TURN] 

We managed to clear away enough stone this afternoon that we can see Cornelius’ face when light is near. The space is not yet big enough to pass the poor soul a lantern, though one is kept lit as close to the threshold as can be maintained. The man still insists, though, that there is light enough, down in that darkness. Sure enough, I pressed my face to the stone to peer into that cave, and I saw it for myself. Some untraceable, indeterminate glow, like the dawn, from somewhere further, down in the dark. I also saw the man’s face with more clarity. He claims he was not injured in the collapse, but he appeared to be bruised or burned in some way, though he made no mention of it.”

This, uh, this next one is illegible, and… a little… sticky? Like the ink has been… bleeding off the page… or melting… But… [PAGE TURN] Here we go. 

“Whatever this light may be, it seems to be affecting Cornelius, particularly in ways more gruesome than one might expect. I have each day thus far ventured down there to both assist with the excavation efforts and to speak with my confined friend. Through the gap we have made in the stone, enough to see his face, I can see the way his skin has started to peel, and blood has started to seep out of many orifices and pores, and he has noticeably fewer teeth than he did the last time we spoke. He coughs often, struggling for breath.   

Progress regarding Cornelius’ rescue has been slow. Several of the men who were assisting with the efforts have also fallen ill, seriously so. Some have sustained burns which have no clear cause or inception. It is difficult to be down there for more than an hour or so at a time. Even I myself have started to suffer from this strange affliction. Though Cornelius bears the worst of it all. It is near too gruesome for words, and I find myself unable to describe it here, for the grief it brings me to see my friend suffer so strangely. 

Whatever it is down in that dark, and I don’t believe I have even a semblance of understanding on the matter, it is obviously much too dangerous to remain exposed. Cornelius, God bless him, has seemingly resigned himself to his tomb, and asked that any efforts be redirected from his rescue to instead collapsing all the eastern tunnels, and sealing off this portion of the mine. 

I swear I write the solemn truth when I say that the last time I looked upon the bloody face of my friend, down there, in that darkness… he himself gave off light. Like the glow from the lamps when the oil is getting low. 

[PAGE FLIP]

The eastern portion of the mine has been sealed off. Sign posts have been left to warn those to come that there is something down there that seems… unnatural and, more importantly, dangerous beyond any comprehension.  

Cornelius was– is- a man I know well. And the last time he ever spoke to me, he spoke of the way the glowing light seemed to sing a song like every song he ever knew.” 

[PAGE FLIP. BOOK CLOSE] 

I- I know I basically asked for it, but for- for a moment there, I was… I was there. In the mine. Stale, dank air, darkness, the stone- that, singing light– and the ragged breaths of a man who’s just waiting– who knows the end– 

JESS: [WINCES SHARPLY, DROPPING THE JOURNAL] Ow- what–

Motthew, what are you– ow- get out of there– ow, are you– biting me?!

[UNWRAPPING BANDAGES, MORE SOUNDS OF PAIN. FLESHY SOUNDS]

What– what the fuck. What the fuck— what are you doing? 

[BEAT] 

He just crawled… into my skin. Literally– burrowed under the bandages and… went straight for where my skin’s been opening… he… he looks like a tattoo now. He’s… he’s settling in, etching himself into my flesh… ow, ow, ow. 

He’s… he’s still moving. 

Okay. Okay. I can’t really feel it any more. 

Maybe this is a frequency that makes us… hallucinate and… if I close my eyes for a second and just clear my mind I’ll come back and– [FUZZY STATIC. TRANSITION] 

I- closing my eyes was a mistake. I’m– I’m dreaming again. 

[WIND SOUNDS.] 

I’m not sure where this is… it's cold. It's really cold here. And dark. I– the horizon is a jagged glass shard, reflecting light and dark and wisps of colour, and the sun is like– a dilated pupil. There’s grass, like- like the shadows of grass, my fingers just sort of feel- fuzzy as I touch it. 

This is a dream. It feels the same… but I don’t know-

[COYOTE HOWLS IN DISTANCE. THEN, DOG APPROACHING, COYOTE BARKS, WHINING]

JESS: What? [GASPS] James? Hey girl, hi— hi girl. Oh my gosh. What are you doing here? 

[JESS LAUGHS TEARFULLY AND BABY TALKS SOFTLY TO JAMES, PANTING AND WHINING AS JESS PETS HER] 

JESS: Maybe I could just stay here with you, huh? Open fields and no roads. The darkness kind of takes the edge off, and it's cool… 

I can actually feel the wind on my face… I breathe and everything breathes with me. 

[WIND RUSHING LOUDER] 

This is a good dream, huh? I’m dreaming and this is my dream for sure. I’ve had some like this before, huh? Where are we girl, huh? Huh, where are we? 

Oh, good girl. Good girl James. I miss you. I miss you, I- 

[RUSHING SOUND, BACK INTO SILENCE OF THE SPACE. JESS’ VOICE ECHOES]

JESS: Oh. This feels less like lucid dreaming and more like… 

Leaving and returning. Like I’m going somewhere. 

[A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.]

JESS: I- should get that. 

[GETS UP. GOES. PICKS UP. OPENS DOOR:] 

JESS: Hello? … Hello? 

[BEAT. NOTHING. SITS BACK DOWN] 

JESS: Its– a package. Ungodly hour for mail. I- It's a bubble mailer [RIPPING IT OPEN, LOOKING IN] lined with pine needles and, [SNIFFS] lavender buds and… not sure what that is, and… 

[RUSTLING SOUND]

Oh. It's the- it's the photos from Don’s camera. There’s- there’s only two, these must be all that were left. Or all that someone thought I needed to see. 

This- I would think this is just… way overexposed but… the light, the colour of it, the way it softens around the edges… this looks like a closeup of that glowing thing I saw in the woods. I can- I can just see the outline of it, but… [WINCES] It's so bright, it's almost like its glowing… its hard to look at too long… 

This other one– [LOW] What? 

[A FLASH OF FLAME AND JESS CRIES OUT AS THE PHOTOS CATCH FIRE] 

JESS: Shit, shit- shit!

[SHE PATS THEM TO PUT THEM OUT.]

JESS: That was just… weird. I don’t think this is a dream. 

And- and as impossible as it sounds, that… I swear it was me in that second picture. 

It was grainy, and- and dark, but- I swear, in the corner, in the dark, was me… was my face, red, and… and it looked like I was bleeding… 

That was me. Down in the dark. 

But, it's gone now. They’re both gone. Ashes. Spontaneously combusted in my hands. So… 

Hopefully they weren’t all that important. 

I- singed my fingertips a little… I- [BEAT] 

Oh, there’s a three eyed deer outside the window… hello, friend. You scared me. Where did you come from? I guess its that time of year. Is it? I have no idea what time of year it is anymore. 

Oh- its like it me, it just– that’s so creepy it just turned to look directly at me, and its eyes caught the light like- like a photo taken with flash, it– 

[STATIC AGAIN. FOREST SOUNDS]

JESS: Whoa– I’m dreaming again. I’m… I’m in a forest… a dark forest. The trees are like black spires… the sky is blank… too colourless to even be white, it is just… nothing– 

DEER: You are lost. 

JESS: You’re still… You walked out of my dream?

DEER: You stepped into mine. You don’t belong here. 

JESS: I’m trying to wake up. 

DEER: You don’t belong there, either. 

JESS: What do you mean? How do you know?

[DISTANT RUMBLING NOISE]

DEER: Don’t you hear it? Storm’s here. My sisters and I cannot stay. 

JESS: Do you know what it is? 

[RUMBLING LOUDER, STATIC]

JESS: Whoa. 

This is… making me nauseous. 

Oh, shit– 

[STANDS]

[LOW] Tanner- Tanner must be having a nightmare because– there’s a– there’s one of those things in here- 

[CREATURE GROWL, SNIFF]

Oh god- I don’t- 

[JESS SCARED BREATHING AS THING SNIFFS, WALKS CLOSER. GROWL, THEN, RUNNING TOWARDS. JESS SHRIEKS, THEN- STATIC]