Speaker 1: Twelve Ghosts is a production of iHeart three D audio
Speaker 1: and grim and Mild from Aaron Banky Headphones Recommended listener
Speaker 1: discretion advised. In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds may moan
Speaker 1: Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone. Snow
Speaker 1: had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow in the
Speaker 1: bleak midwinter long ago. So this is the afterlife more
Speaker 1: or less, yes, more or less. This is the liminal
Speaker 1: space between life and the next chapter. This is the
Speaker 1: great in between, the lobby of the hotel hereafter. Does
Speaker 1: everyone get this treatment? No? Not. Everyone chooses to come
Speaker 1: in from the cold, and those that don't they stay
Speaker 1: out there in the dark and the cold. Some try
Speaker 1: to return to the place that they were before, but
Speaker 1: I can't imagine they'd enjoy it, most of them cling
Speaker 1: to a loved one or a house they haunted in life.
Speaker 1: Some go back for revenge. But eventually they all end
Speaker 1: up back in the wood here, lucky or sulking, depending
Speaker 1: if I were to have been followed. Ah, now you're
Speaker 1: getting somewhere. Could they follow me in here? Perhaps? But
Speaker 1: they get nothing beside a long slumber. This is a
Speaker 1: place of rest. There is nothing here but a fire
Speaker 1: and wine and peace, and the bell always the bell
Speaker 1: call to action, a beginning and end, the tolls for
Speaker 1: the traveler. Hello, there you look surprisingly chipper. Come in, ah, Charmie, Well,
Speaker 1: I thank you. You must be Augustine, one and the same.
Speaker 1: And would you like an I swarming cup of mulled wine. Augustine,
Speaker 1: I would thank you, coming right up. Hello, Apologies, I
Speaker 1: was swept away in your rosy demeanor and forgot my manners. Augustine.
Speaker 1: This is Annabelle. Hello. How was your journey surprising? I
Speaker 1: didn't know what to expect. Well, you're in good company.
Speaker 1: The wine m hm smells amazing. I hope that you
Speaker 1: enjoy it. It's excellent. How interesting to see someone so
Speaker 1: happy to be here. Most visitors seem quite unprepared to
Speaker 1: be at my table. I have grown accustomed to the unusual,
Speaker 1: the uncanny I see. I've sought it out since I
Speaker 1: first became aware that there was something beyond the veil.
Speaker 1: Do tell it began at the Dalton House. The beauty
Speaker 1: of the Dalton House could not be seen from the road.
Speaker 1: They said it was better viewed from a small beach
Speaker 1: called snow Cove, and the sea if I ever ventured
Speaker 1: into the water, though that was unlikely. I peered through
Speaker 1: the woods as I drove, watching for hints of life.
Speaker 1: I saw nothing. The twisted trees and rocky cliffs were
Speaker 1: angry gatekeepers. A few flurries, forewarned of a storm. I
Speaker 1: knew I was close when I saw a glimmer of
Speaker 1: lights ahead. Dalton House was a desolate gym, like a star,
Speaker 1: barely tethered to this earth, and it was my home
Speaker 1: for Christmas. By the time I unloaded my bags, the
Speaker 1: snow started to swirl. The roads would not be cleared
Speaker 1: again until the day after Christmas. I'm ashamed to say
Speaker 1: I felt a little afraid, but fear was a welcome
Speaker 1: change from my sadness. I was the caretaker at Dalton
Speaker 1: House for the month of December. The family promised an
Speaker 1: ample supply of firewood and running water. I was capable
Speaker 1: with an axe if I needed. Spiders and cobwebs did
Speaker 1: not frighten me. I love the idea of a warm
Speaker 1: fire and a quiet Christmas Holidays were noisy and crowded
Speaker 1: in my family. That meant exhausting. I spent years giving
Speaker 1: myself to school and work in my family, but I
Speaker 1: never did anything for me. It felt dangerous putting myself first,
Speaker 1: but that's what I planned to do. Dalton House was
Speaker 1: a job and a lift. December would be a fresh start,
Speaker 1: the end of the year, new beginnings. I wandered through
Speaker 1: the house. Sofas and chairs surrounded a grand piano in
Speaker 1: the parlor. It glistened like a black mirror in the
Speaker 1: center of the room. Across the hall, I found a
Speaker 1: dark dining room with a low hanging chandelier. I touched
Speaker 1: the counters in the kitchen and straightened cans and the
Speaker 1: overstocked pantry. Eventually I found the great room, with a
Speaker 1: wall of windows that faced the gray sea. The sound
Speaker 1: rumbled through the glass. To my surprise, the fireplace roared
Speaker 1: with life. The orange flames and warmth lured me further
Speaker 1: into the room. I was supposed to start the fire,
Speaker 1: and yet there it was burning, hot and bright. Someone
Speaker 1: had recently been in the house. Of course, they sent someone,
Speaker 1: I told myself. A freshly cut Christmas tree stood near
Speaker 1: the window. It was green and damp. The scent of
Speaker 1: pine filled the room. Several boxes of decoration surrounded the tree.
Speaker 1: I picked up the simple card on top Merry Christmas Augustine.
Speaker 1: The Daltons told me that their great grandfather had been
Speaker 1: a sea captain. He built this house when he retired
Speaker 1: from working the sea. It was clear from the love
Speaker 1: put into it that his heart hadn't quite retired. Every
Speaker 1: generation after spent Christmas in that place. The house had
Speaker 1: been renovated numerous times over the years. I could tell
Speaker 1: which walls were built by Captain Dalton's hands. As I
Speaker 1: fell asleep on the first night, I wondered about him,
Speaker 1: the captain who loved the sea, the house he built,
Speaker 1: the state near her. On the first full day, I
Speaker 1: barely made halfway down the beach when I heard the bells.
Speaker 1: A child ran towards me from the distance. He was
Speaker 1: a young boy who waved cheerfully. He wore heavy boots
Speaker 1: and a good coat, like he was used to the
Speaker 1: biting December wind on the shore. I waved back. I
Speaker 1: was delighted to see that I had neighbors after all. Hello,
Speaker 1: Mere Christmas. He shouted and looked as excited as Christmas morning.
Speaker 1: He found a treasure of shiny rocks. He emptied his
Speaker 1: pockets to show me the stones he carried, smooth, jagged
Speaker 1: and every color of the rainbow. The boy asked me
Speaker 1: to join him. I collected as many as I could
Speaker 1: find and laid them on a boulder for his inspection.
Speaker 1: He was about to critique my collection when he turned
Speaker 1: his head toward the wind. My mom is calling. He
Speaker 1: got up and ran down the shore, just as happy
Speaker 1: as before. He turned and waved one last time. I
Speaker 1: heard the bells again when he shouted goodbye. I mirrored
Speaker 1: his excitement with my own as I waved back. If
Speaker 1: Christmas had a sound, it was the sound of a
Speaker 1: child's laughter and the echoing of jingle bells. That night,
Speaker 1: I kept the fire roaring and started to decorate the
Speaker 1: Christmas tree. I looked down the beach for signs of
Speaker 1: another house or lights through the trees. There were none.
Speaker 1: There was nothing but the darkness. The next afternoon, I
Speaker 1: met my young friend again. As I walked on the beach,
Speaker 1: we searched for slipper shells. He challenged me to a
Speaker 1: race and then a skipping contest. I was about to
Speaker 1: ask him about his family when he paused, I have
Speaker 1: to go. I'll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas. He sprinted
Speaker 1: down the beach and remembered to wave at me from
Speaker 1: the distance. On the third day, we made a snow man.
Speaker 1: The sand and snow were nice compliments to each other.
Speaker 1: The boy found rocks and shells for eyes and nose.
Speaker 1: I found driftwood. The final masterpiece stood almost as tall
Speaker 1: as me. He's a sea captain, the boy exclaimed. I
Speaker 1: want to be a captain when I grow up. I
Speaker 1: thought of Captain Dalton and looked back at the house.
Speaker 1: It was a perfect site from the beach. The house
Speaker 1: was painted navy blue with white trim. It looked like
Speaker 1: a Christmas dream. The boys infectious laughter filled the air.
Speaker 1: I wish I could stay with you forever, he said.
Speaker 1: The child turned toward Dalton House. Have you been here before?
Speaker 1: I asked. Then the wind changed and he stood up.
Speaker 1: I noticed a bell tied to a button on his coat.
Speaker 1: When he ran off, he made a familiar sound, bells
Speaker 1: and laughter. He paused and looked at me one more time.
Speaker 1: Merry Christmas, Augustine. I never told him my name. The
Speaker 1: next day, I did not see the boy when I
Speaker 1: took my walk. I hesitated when I thought of venturing
Speaker 1: further down the beach to where he usually emerged. It
Speaker 1: seemed silly to me to miss the company of a
Speaker 1: child who I did not know. I was thankful for him.
Speaker 1: My eyes were now good at finding the little things.
Speaker 1: But without his laughter and bells, the beach felt lonely
Speaker 1: and haunted at the same time. That night, I decorated
Speaker 1: the Christmas tree with glass ornaments and seashells. Periodically I
Speaker 1: gazed out over the sea. Something caught my eye. I
Speaker 1: saw the shadow on the water. It was an old
Speaker 1: man rowing. He was strong and moved through the ocean easily.
Speaker 1: He glanced over his shoulder and saw me at the window.
Speaker 1: Our eyes locked. I couldn't make out all the details
Speaker 1: of his face, but he was there. He raised a
Speaker 1: hand to me in greeting, but before I could return
Speaker 1: the gesture, I saw him mouth the single word from
Speaker 1: across the distance, augusty. My heart braced. I was afraid.
Speaker 1: I touched the glass between us, and just like that,
Speaker 1: he was gone behind a wave. I blinked my eyes
Speaker 1: many times to see if he returned. He didn't. Who
Speaker 1: was he? How did he know my name? Why was
Speaker 1: I said that he was gone? The following night, I
Speaker 1: sat in a chair by the window and stared outside.
Speaker 1: Sadness makes your mind bold and reckless ways. At first
Speaker 1: he didn't come. Then as I started to fall asleep,
Speaker 1: I heard bells. He was out there on the water.
Speaker 1: I felt him. It wasn't my imagination. I opened my eyes.
Speaker 1: There he rode for many moments before glancing up at
Speaker 1: the house, his eyes on me, Augustine, and then he
Speaker 1: was gone. Nothing on the water, not shadow or boat
Speaker 1: or spirit. I warmed at his whispered word. He missed me.
Speaker 1: How could a hundred year old man who lived a
Speaker 1: hundred years ago miss me? I was so tired in
Speaker 1: my life and hadn't thought about love. Something in his
Speaker 1: eyes and voice suggested that if I chose to live,
Speaker 1: love might be waiting for me. A more ly, he
Speaker 1: was longing for me. I was haunting him. I saw
Speaker 1: him again on the next night. Once more he whispered
Speaker 1: my name and disappeared. The following day, I didn't see
Speaker 1: anything as I watched the beach in ocean. I had
Speaker 1: spent three days with a boy on the beach and
Speaker 1: three nights with an old man watching me from the water.
Speaker 1: Just as the boy had come and gone. The old
Speaker 1: ghosts did not show up a fourth time, but walking
Speaker 1: on the coal sand. I heard something from the sea, bells, splashing,
Speaker 1: and a cry for help. I hugged my coat closer
Speaker 1: around me in panic, going into the water, midt dying, help,
Speaker 1: is anyone there? My panic stepped into the tide just
Speaker 1: like that, mh. The water went still, still as a
Speaker 1: hidden lake. The ocean became a perfect mirror above a
Speaker 1: single star shone brightly in the black sky. I could
Speaker 1: see him then, floating lifeless, naked, like a newborn baby.
Speaker 1: A single push of the tide brought him to the
Speaker 1: shore at my feet, like a gift. I waded into
Speaker 1: the water to pull him onto the sand. He was
Speaker 1: coughing cold. He wore talisman around his neck and nothing else.
Speaker 1: With effort, I got him to stand and he stumbled
Speaker 1: in confusion. I wrapped my coat around him. What are
Speaker 1: you doing here? He has between breaths. Where's my family?
Speaker 1: I have to get you inside. Let me help you.
Speaker 1: Though he eyed me warily, he was weak, he did
Speaker 1: not fight. I was strength. As we climbed the steps
Speaker 1: to the house. Tell me your name, I said I
Speaker 1: he paused, my name is. I put him in front
Speaker 1: of the fire and brought tea with whiskey. This is
Speaker 1: my family's house. He was talking to himself, not me.
Speaker 1: He was trying to remember something. For the first time,
Speaker 1: I felt like I didn't belong at this place. The
Speaker 1: house that once had been mine became his. I turned
Speaker 1: to look for clothes in my room when I heard
Speaker 1: his voice behind me. You sleep in the captain's room.
Speaker 1: I had not considered sleeping in any other. It felt
Speaker 1: like mine. I rummaged through drawers until I found draw
Speaker 1: string pants in a long leave shirt. Everything perfumed with cedar.
Speaker 1: He accepted the clothes, the whiskey, the tea. We sat
Speaker 1: in silence until he took a breath that sounded human.
Speaker 1: Still he didn't know his name. He stared at a
Speaker 1: portrait of the old captain over the fireplace. They looked
Speaker 1: like echoes of each other. The necklace he wore made
Speaker 1: a jingling sound. I don't have a way to get
Speaker 1: you help. Into the road clears, but in the morning
Speaker 1: I can walk down the beach to the other house
Speaker 1: and see if they can get you help. I said,
Speaker 1: what house. I pointed in the direction where the boy
Speaker 1: would greet me. There are no other houses on this point.
Speaker 1: That way is the sea cliff. He closed his eyes
Speaker 1: and took a shuttered breath. Oh God, my head hurts.
Speaker 1: I'm so tired. I asked him not to sleep because
Speaker 1: he might have a concussion. He agreed to but stay awake,
Speaker 1: so I spoke to him. I told him the history
Speaker 1: of the Dalton family and how the old sea captain
Speaker 1: built this place. I told him of my long drive
Speaker 1: to find the house, and how I busied myself for
Speaker 1: the first seven days. Nothing seemed to jog his memory.
Speaker 1: I did not mention the boy or the old man.
Speaker 1: I don't know why. I offered him the captain's room,
Speaker 1: but he didn't want it. He found a bedroom down
Speaker 1: the hall. In the morning. I finally let him rest
Speaker 1: before he closed his eyes. I never asked your name,
Speaker 1: he said. I didn't want to give my name. It
Speaker 1: seems silly like my name might mean something to him, Augustine.
Speaker 1: He stared at me for a long time. When he
Speaker 1: closed his eyes, he whispered, Augustine, Augustine. I shivered, m h.
Speaker 1: When he woke, he didn't talk much, but he asked
Speaker 1: why I was alone. Loneliness seemed unnatural to him. Eventually
Speaker 1: I told him that I needed quiet. I told him
Speaker 1: I needed time to take care of myself. I admitted
Speaker 1: the truth that many people avoided Christmas. The holidays had
Speaker 1: always made me sad. He was next to me on
Speaker 1: the sofa. When he reached out to hold my hand.
Speaker 1: I saw the lights from the tree reflected in his
Speaker 1: dark eyes. I'm glad you're here, Augustine. I wished I
Speaker 1: knew his name. He pulled me close and I rested
Speaker 1: my head on his shoulder. Over the next several days,
Speaker 1: he gave me space to take walks and read in
Speaker 1: front of the fire. I believe he was embarrassed to
Speaker 1: interrupt my solitude. We circled away from each other. I
Speaker 1: would feed the ire in the hearth. He would make dinner.
Speaker 1: The first time it surprised me, but then we got
Speaker 1: into the easy habit of circling near each other in
Speaker 1: the kitchen at night, he would cook, I would clean.
Speaker 1: We both could play the piano enough to get a
Speaker 1: laugh or smile out of the other. He could not
Speaker 1: remember his name, but he said mine often. I tried
Speaker 1: to figure out who the man was. We looked through photos.
Speaker 1: He wasn't in them, but he resembled every face we saw. Still,
Speaker 1: we fell into a comfortable routine. He cooked with more
Speaker 1: passion and speed than I could. The fires he built
Speaker 1: burned brighter. He smelled like cedar, and see and miracles.
Speaker 1: He loved Christmas and knew this house. Yet he'd never
Speaker 1: seen the ghost of a boy or an old man,
Speaker 1: just me. I was the one haunting him. On Christmas Eve,
Speaker 1: I kissed him, his tongue hot and sweet like apple cider.
Speaker 1: On Christmas morning he undressed me. My skin was cold
Speaker 1: until he touched me. The talisman around his neck meat
Speaker 1: a sound that reminded me of a boy's laughter and
Speaker 1: an old man on the sea. He didn't know where
Speaker 1: the necklace came from, only that it had always been
Speaker 1: with him. He kissed me slowly, and we fell asleep.
Speaker 1: In the morning, the road was cleared of snow. He
Speaker 1: was gone, but I wasn't alone. He'd left behind the laughter,
Speaker 1: longing and love. The necklace was on me as though
Speaker 1: it had always been there. You gave him peace, how lovely?
Speaker 1: I do hope so he certainly brought me peace and
Speaker 1: the rest of your life. M hm. It was remarkable. Mh.
Speaker 1: But now now I would like to rest well. That
Speaker 1: just happens to be the house speciality. I thought it
Speaker 1: may be Here is a key, Augustine. Up the stairs,
Speaker 1: seventh store on the left. You'll find what you've come for.
Speaker 1: Along went his nap and you. I sent some tremor
Speaker 1: beneath the surface. I hope you find rest as well well.
Speaker 1: Off to bed with me, good night. What did she
Speaker 1: mean a tremor? I surely do not know, And yet yet,
Speaker 1: and yet I feel as though you are close to
Speaker 1: finding out, my dear. Let's have another cup of wine.
Speaker 1: The night isn't getting any younger. Twelve Ghosts starring Malcolm
Speaker 1: McDowell as the Innkeeper and Gina Rikiki as Annabelle. Episode seven,
Speaker 1: The Drowning Man written by Nikki Salcedo with additional writing
Speaker 1: by Nicholas to Ski, editing by Chris Childs and Stephen Perez,
Speaker 1: featuring April Parker Jones as Augustine. Directed by Nicholas Takowski.
Speaker 1: Original score and sound design by Chris Child's. Executive producers
Speaker 1: Aaron Mankey, Matt Frederick, Alexander Williams and Nicholas Takowski. Supervising
Speaker 1: producer Josh Staine, Producers Chris Child's and Stephen Perez. Casting
Speaker 1: by Sunday Bowling, C s A and Meg Mormon c
Speaker 1: s A production coordinator Wayna Calderon, recorded at Lantern Audio
Speaker 1: in Atlanta, Georgia, engineered by Chris Gardner, Aeros Sound and
Speaker 1: Recording in Ojai, California, engineered by Ken Arros. Twelve Ghosts
Speaker 1: was created by Nicholas Takowski. Then is a production of
Speaker 1: i Heeart three D Audio and Grim and Mild from
Speaker 1: Aaron Manky. Learn more about the show at Grim and
Speaker 1: Mild dot com and find more podcasts from i heart
Speaker 1: Radio by visiting the i heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,
Speaker 1: or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. O