Speaker 1: This program is intended for mature audiences only.
Speaker 2: You are now listening to Observable Radio.
Speaker 1: Hi, there, it's Cameron Siuey. We're back again with another
Speaker 1: short tale from the early days, a folksy little story
Speaker 1: of a walk past a farmhouse on the open road.
Speaker 1: Maybe it's a story about one thing pretending to be
Speaker 1: about another. We hope this stranger is treating you all well,
Speaker 1: and we'll have some news about season two coming soon.
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Speaker 1: some little artifacts to share. Shortly and now, after a
Speaker 1: brief word from the Observable Radio Company store, here's tonight's story.
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Speaker 1: Before the sun is high above me. By the time
Speaker 1: I see the farm on the horizon with its tattered
Speaker 1: yellow flag whipping in the hot breeze. The central roof
Speaker 1: beam of the barn is bowed, sagging gently in a
Speaker 1: way that feels warm and inviting the childhood ideal of
Speaker 1: a barn. There have been a half dozen farms along
Speaker 1: the last stretch of road, but none displayed the signal
Speaker 1: flag or showed any signs of habitation. It is providence
Speaker 1: that I should come to this place, so I step
Speaker 1: off the highway onto a weak, choked gravel path. I've
Speaker 1: been following a highway thirty seven all morning, the black
Speaker 1: top scar dividing the glass still wetlands to the south
Speaker 1: from the fields and hills of wild golden grass to
Speaker 1: the north. Alone, except for the elegant cranes above the
Speaker 1: water and the herds of deer grazing in the dry brush,
Speaker 1: I find long, silent hours to reflect and meditate on
Speaker 1: the days past and the glorious days ahead. I savor
Speaker 1: the quiet emptiness of creation beneath my feet. The pavement
Speaker 1: is hot and the air shimmers. In the distance, there
Speaker 1: is a wet earth. The riot of smells like fresh
Speaker 1: tilled soil and still waters. The wine and drone of
Speaker 1: insects is a monotone symphony, unbroken save for the short
Speaker 1: cries of waterfowl. The Vallejo Crater is far behind me,
Speaker 1: now hidden by a ridge of meek hills and the
Speaker 1: opalescent summer haze. Ahead, a little farmhouse comes into view.
Speaker 1: Behind the barn, a leaning, two floored structure, pale yellow
Speaker 1: paint peeling in the sun. My heart sings at the
Speaker 1: charming innocence of the little home. I try to imagine
Speaker 1: it without the thick wooden boards nailed over the windows
Speaker 1: and doors, without the furrowed claw marks on the barricades
Speaker 1: on the wrap around porch. An elderly man in a
Speaker 1: stained white shirt stands up as I approach, slow and stiff,
Speaker 1: and wipes his hands on his jeans. With no particular hurry.
Speaker 1: He hoists and shoulders his rifle, bringing the sights into
Speaker 1: alignment with our eyes. I pull the corners of my
Speaker 1: mouth into a smile and wave ho there. He barks
Speaker 1: in a voice like tumbling rocks. Would you mind speaking?
Speaker 1: Please your name? Caleb? I reply no, point in line.
Speaker 1: I concentrate on holding the grin firm and come to
Speaker 1: a stop as I swing the pack off my shoulders.
Speaker 1: I just I saw your flag. That's why we have
Speaker 1: it up. The rifle comes down at his side and
Speaker 1: he steps off the porch, the aching of his joints
Speaker 1: visible like a road sign. What can I do for you, Caleb?
Speaker 1: I exhale and raise my eyebrows with what I hope
Speaker 1: is a convincing look of honest confusion. But to tell
Speaker 1: you the truth, sir, I'm not sure if I need anything.
Speaker 1: I just got excited to see the flag. It's it's
Speaker 1: been a little while, I imagine it has, he says, softly.
Speaker 1: It's been a while since anyone's seen it. Where are
Speaker 1: you coming from?
Speaker 2: Son?
Speaker 1: Around the crater and before that, out of Winter's up
Speaker 1: on the way to Sacramento. He cocks his head to
Speaker 1: one side and regards me for a long moment, absently
Speaker 1: chewing on his lip. It's a long way on foot,
Speaker 1: he says, at last, where you headed the ocean? I think, sir?
Speaker 1: He smiles wide at this, and when it his skin
Speaker 1: creases into a weathered map of joy. I see so
Speaker 1: clearly what a good and righteous man he is. It's
Speaker 1: evident at once that God has led me here, and
Speaker 1: I thank him for his guidance. He takes another step,
Speaker 1: leaving his rifle behind him, and I struggle for one
Speaker 1: hot moment to keep still, to wear the mask in
Speaker 1: a hurry to get to the ocean. Caleb, he asks,
Speaker 1: with a few dry truckles that could be mistaken for coughs. No, sir,
Speaker 1: his smile is infectious, and I no longer have to
Speaker 1: strain to affect the expression. I'd just like to get
Speaker 1: there sometime before the end of September. The heat makes
Speaker 1: them sluggish, so it's been easy traveling so far. He
Speaker 1: barks once with laughter at this. No need for sir,
Speaker 1: he says with a wave, as if it embarrasses him.
Speaker 1: I'm Daniel, pleasure meeting you, Caleb. Likewise, Daniel, I nod,
Speaker 1: luring my eyes for a moment, a gesture of deference
Speaker 1: and submission, practiced so often it almost feels natural. Listen, Caleb,
Speaker 1: I wonder if you'd be interested in a day's work.
Speaker 1: I've got a beam on the barn that's rotted through.
Speaker 1: I got sure, use a hand setting up a break. Yes,
Speaker 1: we can give you as much food as you can
Speaker 1: carry fresh off the farm. You interested. I opened my
Speaker 1: mouth to speak, and he cuts me off with a
Speaker 1: rapid shake of his head. You don't need to know
Speaker 1: the first thing about carpentry. I just need you to
Speaker 1: be able to hold some planks and follow directions. Daniel,
Speaker 1: I think that would make me very happy, I say,
Speaker 1: with something approaching sincerity, The thought of good, honest work
Speaker 1: with my hands to better Daniel's last day as fills
Speaker 1: me with warmth. I offer my hand and shake. His
Speaker 1: hand is calloused and cool, and his grip is still strong,
Speaker 1: perhaps stronger than mine. And make note of this good good.
Speaker 1: He nods, his eyes narrowing a little. A nervous twinge
Speaker 1: of paranoia bolts through me, and I harden my smile,
Speaker 1: fixing it into place. Well, shall we get started. I
Speaker 1: lean my backpack against the porch and turn to follow
Speaker 1: him towards the barn. He glances out towards the highway
Speaker 1: and then back over his shoulder at me. You didn't
Speaker 1: see any sickos on the road or nearby, did you, No, sir,
Speaker 1: I respond with a little laugh at his vernacular. I
Speaker 1: haven't seen them all morning. It's been nice and quiet.
Speaker 1: He gives one last scan at the horizon and turns
Speaker 1: away with a little nod of satisfaction. We enter the
Speaker 1: barn and I have my first lesson in carpentry. I
Speaker 1: devour every word, he says, as we brace and buttress
Speaker 1: several of the barns rotting timbers. I struggle to absorb
Speaker 1: all the information he can offer. Surrounded by a cacophony
Speaker 1: of clucking and baying farm animals. He shares his advice
Speaker 1: on woodworking farm labor with an almost guilty pride. Lowering
Speaker 1: his voice conspiratorially, he is aghast at the fact that
Speaker 1: I don't carry a gun. With only a little prompting,
Speaker 1: he tells me some of what he remembers from before.
Speaker 1: I am a blank page rapidly filling. I fall into
Speaker 1: the easy rhythm of the simple, repetitive actions, and we
Speaker 1: are finished far earlier than I wish. The air grows cool,
Speaker 1: and the whine of mosquitoes rising off the wetlands is audible.
Speaker 1: It feels almost perfunctory when he invites me in for
Speaker 1: dinner with him and his wife and a powerless against
Speaker 1: the inevitable, except with all my good grace. Caroline is
Speaker 1: a slow and doughy woman, with thinning hair and rotting teeth,
Speaker 1: and I take a liking to her at once. She
Speaker 1: unlocks the thick barricaded door to let us in, and
Speaker 1: I am met by a bouquet of smells from the
Speaker 1: small kitchen. The peppery grease of fried meets the bright,
Speaker 1: sharp tang of something bitter and green. I am already
Speaker 1: salivating as I bow politely before her. When Daniel introduces me.
Speaker 1: Caroline remarks over dinner that she's never met anyone as
Speaker 1: polite and well mannered as me, that even before I
Speaker 1: would have been called old fashioned. I am silent for
Speaker 1: a moment, flaring with panic, and conscious of all my affectations,
Speaker 1: even the ones I no longer have to think about
Speaker 1: to maintain. But it's obvious by her wide grin that
Speaker 1: she finds me charming. I was raised well, I offer,
Speaker 1: with a smile, feeling my heart rates slow. My parents
Speaker 1: were God loving people, and we had a very secure
Speaker 1: community in winters. She nods heartily at the mention of
Speaker 1: God and closes her eyes. Daniel looks momentarily embarrassed and
Speaker 1: shifts in his chair. The tiny flashes of his box
Speaker 1: language fill my heart with sadness. I offer up the
Speaker 1: tin of freeze dried coffee I've found in the lock
Speaker 1: trunk of a car outside the crater, and we sit
Speaker 1: and talk late into the evening, trading news and stories.
Speaker 1: We've heard, much of it baffling and contradictory. It was
Speaker 1: Caroline who brought up the end times, and I tried
Speaker 1: to defer to Daniel's visible discomfort by suppressing my own fervor.
Speaker 1: I just can't see how Dan can still deny it
Speaker 1: after all these years, She tells me, as he shifts
Speaker 1: in his chair. It's just like it says in the Bible.
Speaker 1: The dead risen. These days are proof that he is coming.
Speaker 1: Daniel smiles on a lesser man. It would look patronizing,
Speaker 1: I would argue the opposite. He locks eyes with her,
Speaker 1: and I can see the weathered and worn smooth love
Speaker 1: between them, the old argument long set aside. I gently
Speaker 1: steer the conversation away. When they retire, I excuse myself
Speaker 1: to sleep outside, refusing the offer of the battered old couch.
Speaker 1: I unfurl my bedroll beneath the stars and soak in
Speaker 1: the chaotic summer night. The constellations are a shimmering riot,
Speaker 1: and I trace the shapes I know again and again.
Speaker 1: As the stirring breeze from off the water cools the air,
Speaker 1: I close my eyes and concentrate on the near silent
Speaker 1: passage of a coyote as he walks in a slow
Speaker 1: half circle around me before bounding off into the dark.
Speaker 1: The night is woven with life. It cradles me like
Speaker 1: a nest. I sleep long and well. I awake before
Speaker 1: dawn and prepare myself. Daniel is up before me. He
Speaker 1: has packed a box full of fresh cabbage and squash,
Speaker 1: a dozen grapefruit, as well as a half dozen jars
Speaker 1: of homemade jambs. He looks at me with a sheepish
Speaker 1: grin when I discover him filling the box, and I
Speaker 1: know more than ever that God has not led me astray.
Speaker 1: There is a contentedness that fills me as I approach.
Speaker 1: Thank you, Daniel, and she's right, you know, I say,
Speaker 1: smiling at him. He opens his mouth to speak, but
Speaker 1: his eyes are crinkled in confusion about the end I offer,
Speaker 1: and I see that he understands. Look, Caleb, I see
Speaker 1: how much this pains him. I wonder if he lost
Speaker 1: his faith or if he ever had it. I don't
Speaker 1: really want to have this argument, not with you. The
Speaker 1: dead aren't rising. This is a disease who says viruses
Speaker 1: can't be divine or diabolical. The revenants are just one
Speaker 1: of the signs. I'm already starting to strain with exhilaration
Speaker 1: as I somehow manage to keep my words even and slow. Kid,
Speaker 1: I'm really not interested his brows furrow and frustration, making
Speaker 1: him look ten years older and tired. And take another
Speaker 1: step towards him. Daniel, I am sorry for what you've
Speaker 1: had to go through. You didn't deserve it. I lock
Speaker 1: eyes with him and continue moving. I want to make
Speaker 1: it right for you. I put one arm around him
Speaker 1: and pull him toward me. I can feel him start
Speaker 1: to panic in my arms, his strength undiminished by the years.
Speaker 1: He starts to say my name. The first hard syllable
Speaker 1: exites his lips and then stops as I slide my
Speaker 1: thin blade gently between his ribs and into his heart.
Speaker 1: I hold tight and whisper to him as he slips away,
Speaker 1: eyes growing dim Afterwards, I lay him on the floor
Speaker 1: and admire with a twinge of jealousy, the peaceful expression
Speaker 1: on his pale face. Caroline is still in bed, but awake.
Speaker 1: I could smell the sickness on her the night before,
Speaker 1: the demonic taint to the disease flapping in the air
Speaker 1: like a chemical flag. But it is stronger now, surging
Speaker 1: forward as she grows weaker. I sit next to her
Speaker 1: on the bed, smiling warmly. She is fixated on the
Speaker 1: blood on my shirt, and I curse myself for the
Speaker 1: lapse in empathy, for scaring this good woman, Caroline. I
Speaker 1: know you must have felt sometimes like God has abandoned you,
Speaker 1: like you've been left behind. But you're not. No one
Speaker 1: will be left behind. God is loving. She is shaking
Speaker 1: and fear, and I want so badly to be able
Speaker 1: to comfort her, but I know she will understand as
Speaker 1: soon as I have set her free. Tears well in
Speaker 1: the corners of her eyes, and I'm so happy for
Speaker 1: the opportunity to do these good works to save good
Speaker 1: people like this. I know you're sick, and I know
Speaker 1: you're scared, but I won't let that stop you from
Speaker 1: going home. Daniel will be waiting for you, I tell her,
Speaker 1: stretching my smile wider. I press the pillow tight against
Speaker 1: her face, cupping my hand above her nose and mouth.
Speaker 1: She only struggles for a few moments, and I stroke
Speaker 1: her hand and sing old hymns as she grows still.
Speaker 1: After I use the knife to cut and shred the
Speaker 1: vertebrae just above her shoulders. I have seen the disease
Speaker 1: take hosts that were already ours dead. But without the
Speaker 1: spinal column, the beast can never take Caroline's body and thrall.
Speaker 1: I do the same for Daniel, even though he seems
Speaker 1: free of infection, because I take what I do very seriously.
Speaker 1: I am an instrument of God, and there are any
Speaker 1: good souls that need to be called home. I bury
Speaker 1: Daniel and Caroline side by side beneath the noon sun,
Speaker 1: and say a few happy words over their earthly remains.
Speaker 1: There is much joy in me, and a little pride
Speaker 1: as well, but mostly I know how lucky I am
Speaker 1: to have been chosen. I fill my pack with fresh
Speaker 1: food from the kitchen before I leave, thanking them both
Speaker 1: silently for their gifts. I am on the road, the
Speaker 1: sun again on my back, and the ocean ahead. This
Speaker 1: is the end of history, the winter of God's creation.
Speaker 1: Still there is work to be done. You have been
Speaker 1: listening to Observable Radio. Tonight's episode before was performed by
Speaker 1: The Ensemble, written by Cameron Suey, Produced by Cameron Suey,
Speaker 1: Phil Van hest Purparina and Wendy Hector. Edited by Cameron Suey.
Speaker 1: Our psychology consultant is doctor Elisa Leal. Art by Carin Fletcher.
Speaker 1: Our theme is the back Rooms performed by Mew. Additional
Speaker 1: music from this episode provided by American Legion, Will Harrison,
Speaker 1: Tim Koolig, Roots and Recognition, and Wanderer's Trove. Observable Radio
Speaker 1: is listener supported thanks to all of our patrons and listeners,
Speaker 1: including Kathleen John Tidd, Russ, Rick Callison, Brianna Zach and Jasper.
Speaker 1: Patrons fund the production costs of the show, as well
Speaker 1: as get access to behind the scenes information, extra production
Speaker 1: material and a discount at the Observable Radio Company store
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Speaker 1: all at Patreon dot com slash Observable Radio. Thank you
Speaker 1: for listening and stay tuned.