Speaker 1: Welcome to stuff you should know a production of iHeartRadio.
Speaker 2: Hey, and welcome to the Spectacular. I'm Josh, and there's
Speaker 2: Chuck and Jerry, the Ghoul Jerome Roland is here and
Speaker 2: we're about to get jiggy with it Halloween style.
Speaker 1: That's right. It's one of our favorite episodes of the year. Yeah,
Speaker 1: we like to remind everyone. This is one of two
Speaker 1: ad free episodes we do every year, that's right. And
Speaker 1: I feel like lately we have been just sort of
Speaker 1: for the uninitiated, giving a quick overview of what we
Speaker 1: do here on Halloween, and that is we read a
Speaker 1: couple of public domain scary stories short stories from now
Speaker 1: we're up to nineteen twenty eight and previous.
Speaker 2: Yes, yeah, I think so, maybe nineteen twenty seven one
Speaker 2: of the two.
Speaker 1: These aren't even that I think these Mine was from
Speaker 1: before that, even though.
Speaker 2: Yeah, we're not even close to the line right now.
Speaker 1: No, we don't want to get litigious for anyone to
Speaker 1: get litigious with us. So that's right, we're not even
Speaker 1: dancing close to the line.
Speaker 2: If you have no idea what we're talking about goes
Speaker 2: into our intellectual property episode. It basically explains our Halloween.
Speaker 1: Episode that's right, but we you know, Josh picks one out,
Speaker 1: I pick one out. It has become very fun in
Speaker 1: recent years as Josh has gotten more creative with his
Speaker 1: voice work.
Speaker 2: Yeah, I'm actually really kind of nervous because it's a
Speaker 2: tough act to follow, and I thought, well, I'll just
Speaker 2: bring Megl back, and I have been summoning Megal's spirit
Speaker 2: to take over my body again.
Speaker 1: Nothing.
Speaker 2: Nothing, I've done so many unspeakable acts as offerings to
Speaker 2: bring meg back. And basically I'm like Emma Roberts at
Speaker 2: the end of Black Coat's Daughter, just screaming and frustration
Speaker 2: because I can't get possessed again. So I'm sorry everyone,
Speaker 2: I don't think Megl's going to be here this year.
Speaker 1: Yeah, it's like Emma Roberts at the end of Black
Speaker 1: Coat's Daughter, screaming like everyone in the theater. I don't
Speaker 1: even look that much like that other girl.
Speaker 2: Yeah, that was a rather serious transition.
Speaker 1: Yeah that was just me though, But I know what
Speaker 1: you mean. It seems like there's nowhere to go but
Speaker 1: down after Megle. I mean, that was an a Josh
Speaker 1: apex for sure.
Speaker 2: So I guess that maybe we'll just call this episode
Speaker 2: a wash I won't even try, and we'll get back
Speaker 2: to business again next year. How about that?
Speaker 1: Yeah, that sounds great. And you know, I actually did
Speaker 1: a little road testing of some different British accents, but
Speaker 1: I have no idea what's going to come out of
Speaker 1: my mouth or yours, and that it's not going to
Speaker 1: be as rehearsed.
Speaker 3: I've learned to speak German, right, Really, no, I had
Speaker 3: to say.
Speaker 2: If I had, I would not have told you or
Speaker 2: anybody else ahead of time. Just now. I would have
Speaker 2: just started speaking German.
Speaker 3: That would have been amazing, it would have been.
Speaker 2: But this episode's a wash this year, so I'm not
Speaker 2: going to be speaking German either.
Speaker 1: Which one do you want to start with? You want
Speaker 1: to do yours or mine? I think they're both terrific.
Speaker 2: I don't know. I've got no persuasion either way, or
Speaker 2: I'm not being persuaded either way. Is there any of
Speaker 2: the two that you feel even remotely more like should
Speaker 2: go first?
Speaker 1: You know, for some reason, instinctually, I just want to
Speaker 1: pick up yours.
Speaker 2: Okay.
Speaker 1: I think it's the gripping and spooky and a good
Speaker 1: place setter, and it's you know, it's HG. Wells, It's
Speaker 1: a classic author.
Speaker 3: Yeah, so let's dig into yours, okay.
Speaker 2: HG.
Speaker 1: Wells trying to remember my parts though.
Speaker 2: So you are the old man with the shade on
Speaker 2: his head.
Speaker 1: Okay, he's the one that walks in last right.
Speaker 2: Yes, and then the old lady. Oh perfect, okay, And
Speaker 2: this is HG. Wells, everybody, the guy who predicted our
Speaker 2: current rocket program with NASA and wrote the time Machine
Speaker 2: and did all sorts of really neat stuff. He also
Speaker 2: wrote a scary story. And that's what we're going to
Speaker 2: read now. It's called The Red Room. So Chuck, how
Speaker 2: about you narrate first? Uh?
Speaker 3: Okay, Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the reading of The
Speaker 3: Red Room by H. G. Wells.
Speaker 2: No I meant in the story?
Speaker 1: Oh oh oh yeah, sure, I didn't know what you meant.
Speaker 1: I was like, what narration?
Speaker 2: Youre?
Speaker 1: You talking about your reading?
Speaker 2: You're like, all right, don't give it a try. Okay, okay,
Speaker 2: you're ready.
Speaker 1: Sure, but but you're you're playing the main guys. You're
Speaker 1: starting right exactly. Okay.
Speaker 2: I can assure you, said I that it will take
Speaker 2: a very tangible ghost to frighten me.
Speaker 1: And I stood up before the fire with my glass
Speaker 1: in my hand.
Speaker 2: It is your own choosing.
Speaker 1: Said the man with the withered arm.
Speaker 2: I want to take that again.
Speaker 1: Okay, it's your own choosy, said the man with a
Speaker 1: withered arm, and glanced at me askance.
Speaker 2: Eight and twenty years, said I I have lived, and
Speaker 2: never a ghost have I seen. As yet.
Speaker 1: The old woman sat staring hard into the fire, her
Speaker 1: pale eyes wide open.
Speaker 3: Iye, she broke.
Speaker 4: In, and eighty and twenty years, you have lived and
Speaker 4: never seen the likes of this house, I reckon. There's
Speaker 4: a many things to see when one's still but eight
Speaker 4: and twenty.
Speaker 1: She's she's making fun of this guy for being twenty
Speaker 1: eight years old. Yeah, she swayed her head slowly from
Speaker 1: side to side. A many things to see and sorrow for.
Speaker 1: I half suspected the old people were trying to enhance
Speaker 1: the spiritual terrors of their house by their droning insistence.
Speaker 1: I put down my empty glass on the table and
Speaker 1: looked about the room and caught a glimpse of myself
Speaker 1: abbreviated and broadened to an impossible sturdiness in the queer
Speaker 1: old mirror at the end of the room.
Speaker 2: Well, I said, if I see anything tonight, I shall
Speaker 2: be much the wiser before I come to the business
Speaker 2: with an open mind. I'm so disappointed with myself this year.
Speaker 2: Uh oh, yeah, it's me is your.
Speaker 1: Choosing, said the man with a withered arm. Once more,
Speaker 1: I heard the faint sound of a stick and a
Speaker 1: shambling step on the flags, and the passage outside the
Speaker 1: door creaked on its hinges. As a second old man entered,
Speaker 1: more bent, more wrinkled, more aged even than the first.
Speaker 1: He supported himself by the help of a crutch. His
Speaker 1: eyes were covered by a shade, and his lower lip
Speaker 1: half averted, hung pale and pink from his decaying yellow teeth.
Speaker 1: He made straight for an armchair on the opposite side
Speaker 1: of the table, sat down clumsily, and began to cough.
Speaker 1: The man with a withered hand gave the newcomer a
Speaker 1: short glance of positive dislikes. The old woman took no
Speaker 1: notice of his arrival, but remained with her eyes picked
Speaker 1: steadily in the fire.
Speaker 5: I said it to your own choosing.
Speaker 1: Said the man with a withered hand, when the coughing
Speaker 1: had ceased for a while.
Speaker 3: It's my own choosing, I answered.
Speaker 1: The man with the shade became aware of my presence
Speaker 1: for the first time, and threw his head back for
Speaker 1: a moment and sideways to seebee. I caught a momentary
Speaker 1: glimpse of his eyes, small and bright and inflamed. Then
Speaker 1: he began to cough and sputter again.
Speaker 5: Why did you drink?
Speaker 1: Said the man with a withered arm, pushing the beer
Speaker 1: toward him. The man with the shade poured out a
Speaker 1: glassful with a shaking hand that splashed half as much
Speaker 1: again on the deal table. Stress shadow of him crouched
Speaker 1: upon the wall and mocked his action as he poured
Speaker 1: and drank. I must confess I had scarcely expected these
Speaker 1: grotesque custodians. There is to my mind something inhuman, insinility,
Speaker 1: something crouching and atavistic. The human quality seemed to drop
Speaker 1: from old people insensibly. Day by day, the three of
Speaker 1: them made me feel uncomfortable, with their gaunt silences, their
Speaker 1: bent carriage, their evident unfriendliness to me and to one another.
Speaker 1: And that night, perhaps I was in the mood for
Speaker 1: uncomfortable impressions. I resolved to get away from their vague
Speaker 1: foreshadowings of the evil things upstairs.
Speaker 3: So ageous, very ageist.
Speaker 1: If said I.
Speaker 2: I will show me to this haunted room of yours.
Speaker 2: I will make myself comfortable there.
Speaker 1: The old man, with a cough, jerked his head back
Speaker 1: so suddenly that it startled me, and shot another glance
Speaker 1: of his red eyes at me from out of the
Speaker 1: darkness under the shade. But no one answered me. I
Speaker 1: waited a minute, glancing from one to the other. The
Speaker 1: old woman stared like a dead body, glaring into the
Speaker 1: fire with lackluster eyes. Ef I said a little louder.
Speaker 2: If you will show me to this haunted room of yours,
Speaker 2: I will relieve you from the task of entertaining me.
Speaker 5: There's a cannon on the slab outside.
Speaker 1: The door, said the man, with a withered hand, looking
Speaker 1: at my feet as he address me.
Speaker 5: If you go to the red room tonight.
Speaker 1: This night of all nights, said the old woman softly.
Speaker 1: You go alone, very well, I answered shortly, And.
Speaker 2: Which way do I go? This guy's sick of the
Speaker 2: old people by now. He's just satically mad at.
Speaker 1: Them, he is. He's being very aggressive.
Speaker 5: You go along the passage for a little bit.
Speaker 1: Said he, nodding his head on his shoulder at the door.
Speaker 2: Until you come to a spiral stircase. And on the
Speaker 2: second landing is a door covered with green baize. Go
Speaker 2: through that, and on the corner at the end of
Speaker 2: the red room is on your left, up the steps.
Speaker 1: Have I got that right, I said, and repeated his directions.
Speaker 1: He corrected me in one particular. And are you really going,
Speaker 1: said the man with the shade, looking at me again
Speaker 1: for the third time with that queer, unnatural tilting.
Speaker 3: Of the face.
Speaker 1: This night of all nights, whispered the old woman.
Speaker 2: It is what I came for.
Speaker 1: I said, and moved toward the door. As I did so,
Speaker 1: the old man with the shade rose and staggered round
Speaker 1: the table so as to be closer to the others
Speaker 1: and to the fire at the door. I turned and
Speaker 1: looked at them, and saw they were all close together,
Speaker 1: dark against the firelight, staring at me over their shoulders,
Speaker 1: with an intent expression on their ancient faces.
Speaker 3: Good night, I said, setting the door open.
Speaker 1: It's yourn't choosing, said the man with a withered arm.
Speaker 1: All right, so as we like to do little recap.
Speaker 1: This guy has come to this spooky place, and there
Speaker 1: are three olds there. And this guy didn't like olds.
Speaker 2: No, he doesn't like them, and they don't seem to
Speaker 2: like him very much. I think they also are taking
Speaker 2: him as foolish over the cavalier and getting himself into
Speaker 2: hot water.
Speaker 1: To put it mildly, Yeah, because he wants to spend
Speaker 1: the night in this room that we don't even know
Speaker 1: anything about. But I'm already scared.
Speaker 2: Yeah, it's a scary room that you would not want
Speaker 2: to go into. They're kind of half talking about of it.
Speaker 2: Maybe I don't know, maybe a quarter.
Speaker 1: All right, you ready, I'll buy that. Yeah, let's go
Speaker 1: switch it up.
Speaker 2: I left the door wide open until the candle was
Speaker 2: well alight, and then I shut them in and walked
Speaker 2: down the chilly, echoing passage. I must confess that the
Speaker 2: oddness of these three old pensioners in whose charge her
Speaker 2: Ladyship had left the castle, and the deep toned, old
Speaker 2: fashioned furniture of the housekeeper room in which they foregathered,
Speaker 2: had affected me curiously, in spite of my effort to
Speaker 2: keep myself at a matter of fact phase. They seem
Speaker 2: to belong to another age, in older age, in age
Speaker 2: when things spiritual were indeed to be feared, when common
Speaker 2: sense was uncommon, In age when omens and witches were credible,
Speaker 2: and ghosts beyond denying their very existence, thought I as spectral,
Speaker 2: the cut of their clothing, fashions born in dead brains.
Speaker 2: I think he's talking about no incore here. Yeah, the
Speaker 2: ornaments and conveniences in the room about them even are ghostly,
Speaker 2: the thoughts of vanished men which still haunt rather than
Speaker 2: participate in the world of today. And the passage I
Speaker 2: was in, long and shadowy, with a film of moisture
Speaker 2: glistening on the wall, was as gaunt and cold as
Speaker 2: a thing that is dead and rigid. But with an
Speaker 2: effort I sent such thoughts to the right. About the long,
Speaker 2: drafty subterranean passage was chilly and dusty, and my candle
Speaker 2: flared and made the shadows cower and quiver. The echoes
Speaker 2: rang up and down the spiral staircase, and a shadow
Speaker 2: came sweeping up after me, and another fled before me
Speaker 2: into the darkness overhead. They came to the wide landing
Speaker 2: and stopped there for a moment, listening to a rustling
Speaker 2: that I fancied I heard creeping behind me, and then,
Speaker 2: satisfied of the absolute silence, pushed open the unwilling baze
Speaker 2: covered door and stood in the silent.
Speaker 3: Corridor bays is like a felt.
Speaker 2: That's what I got, too, Like what they used to
Speaker 2: put on billiard tables.
Speaker 1: Yeah, might look nice on a door. You never know.
Speaker 2: It's a weird choice, kind of upsetting if you think
Speaker 2: about it. Should I keep going?
Speaker 1: Yeah?
Speaker 3: Yeah, okay.
Speaker 2: The effect was scarcely what I expected for. The moonlight
Speaker 2: coming in by the great window on the grand staircase
Speaker 2: picked out everything in vivid black shadow or reticulated silvery illumination.
Speaker 2: Everything seemed in its proper position. The house might have
Speaker 2: been deserted on the yesterday instead of twelve months ago.
Speaker 2: There were candles in the sockets of the sconces, and
Speaker 2: whatever dust had gathered on the carpets or upon the
Speaker 2: polished flooring was distributed so evenly as to be invisible
Speaker 2: in my candlelight. A waiting stillness was over everything. I
Speaker 2: was about to advance, and stopped abruptly. A bronze group
Speaker 2: stood upon the landing, hidden from me by a corner
Speaker 2: of the wall, but its shadow fell with marvelous distinctness
Speaker 2: upon the white paneling and gave me the impression of
Speaker 2: someone crouching to waylay me. The thing jumped upon my attention.
Speaker 2: Suddenly I stood rigid for half a moment perhaps, Then,
Speaker 2: with my hand in the pocket that held the revolver,
Speaker 2: I advanced only to discover a Gany Mead and eagle
Speaker 2: glistening in the moonlight. That incident, for a time restored
Speaker 2: my nerve by the way, Ganny Mead was the most
Speaker 2: beautiful mortal in Grease whose Zeus napped and took as
Speaker 2: a basically a love slave.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and a Ganny Meat and eagle was just like
Speaker 1: a little statue of an eagle with this scanny meat character.
Speaker 2: But the shadow was super scary.
Speaker 3: For a second, I believe it.
Speaker 2: The door of the Red Room and the steps up
Speaker 2: to it were in a shadowy corner. I moved my
Speaker 2: candle from side to side in order to see clearly
Speaker 2: the nature of the recess in which I stood before
Speaker 2: opening the door. Here it was I thought that my
Speaker 2: predecessor was found, and the memory of the story gave
Speaker 2: me a sudden twinge of apprehension. I glanced over my
Speaker 2: shoulder at the black Ganny meat in the moonlight, and
Speaker 2: opened the door of the Red Room rather hastily, With
Speaker 2: my face half turned to the pallid silence of the corridor.
Speaker 2: I entered closed the door behind me at once turned
Speaker 2: the key I found in the lock within, and stood
Speaker 2: with the candle help of off surveying the scene of
Speaker 2: my vigil, the great red room of Lowering Castle, in
Speaker 2: which the young Duke had died, or rather in which
Speaker 2: he had begun his dying, For he had opened the
Speaker 2: door and fallen headlong down the steps I had just ascended.
Speaker 2: That had been the end of his vigil, of his
Speaker 2: gallant attempt to conquer the ghostly tradition of the place,
Speaker 2: And never I thought, had apoplexy better served the ends
Speaker 2: of superstition. There were other older stories that clung to
Speaker 2: the room, back to the half incredible beginning of it all,
Speaker 2: the tale of a timid wife and the tragic end
Speaker 2: that came to her husband's chest of frightening her. And
Speaker 2: looking round that huge, shadowy room, with its black window bays,
Speaker 2: its recesses and alcoves, its dusty brown red hangings, and
Speaker 2: dark gigantic furniture, one could well understand the legends that
Speaker 2: had sprouted in its black corners, its germinating darknesses. My
Speaker 2: candle was a little tongue of light in the vastness
Speaker 2: of the chamber. Its rays failed to pierce to the
Speaker 2: opposite end of the room and left an ocean of
Speaker 2: dull red mystery and suggestion, sentinel shadows and watching darknesses
Speaker 2: beyond its island of light and the stillness of desolation
Speaker 2: brooded over it all.
Speaker 1: All right, So, like a lot of these stories, you
Speaker 1: get a little bit of a vague setup and then
Speaker 1: they sort of dole out what's happening. Yeah, as it goes.
Speaker 2: On pretty much what he's doing here, I would.
Speaker 1: Say, Yeah, so he got this guy, he's going to
Speaker 1: this castle now where the person before him that went
Speaker 1: to sort of ghost investigate through him? Sounds like he
Speaker 1: threw himself down the stairs and took his life right
Speaker 1: with madness.
Speaker 2: I think he. I get the impression, who's trying to
Speaker 2: get the heck out of that room and died running
Speaker 2: falling down the stairs.
Speaker 3: Maybe okay, either one.
Speaker 1: And then this whole thing was haunted though by a woman.
Speaker 1: And do I gather that her husband used to like
Speaker 1: kiddingly frighten her and that led to a death.
Speaker 2: That's what I took it as.
Speaker 1: Yeah, okay, not a nice guy.
Speaker 3: Don't do that, guys, No, it wasn't jest.
Speaker 2: I'm sure he regretted it pretty deeply afterward if he
Speaker 2: was even half way decent. Right, are you taking over now?
Speaker 1: Yes? It feels like a switcher roo me, I think
Speaker 1: so too. All right, so this guy's in this room now,
Speaker 1: finally he's all set to go.
Speaker 3: Here we go.
Speaker 1: I must confess some impalpable quality of that ancient room
Speaker 1: disturbed me. I tried to fight the feeling down. I
Speaker 1: resolved to make a systematic examination of the place, and
Speaker 1: so by leaving nothing to the imagination, dispel the fanciful
Speaker 1: suggestions of the obscurity before they obtained a hold upon me.
Speaker 1: After satisfying myself of the fastening of the door, I
Speaker 1: love that. I get the feeling this guy's like, check
Speaker 1: to make sure it was locked, like eight times. I
Speaker 1: began to walk around the room, peering round each article
Speaker 1: of furniture, tucking up the balances of the bed and
Speaker 1: opening its curtains wide. So basically, this guy's doing what
Speaker 1: any kid would do.
Speaker 2: Yeah, he's trying to bring as much light as possible
Speaker 2: in there and checking everything right.
Speaker 1: Well, yeah, he's looking at He's like, I don't want
Speaker 1: those sheets hanging down below, like what's under the bed.
Speaker 1: It's likely to tuck that in. Let's lock the door
Speaker 1: eight times. I like this guy. Yeah, okay. In one
Speaker 1: place there was a distinct echo to my footsteps. The
Speaker 1: noises I made seemed so little that they enhanced rather
Speaker 1: than broke the silence of the place. I pulled up
Speaker 1: the blinds and examined the fastenings of these several windows.
Speaker 1: Attracted by the fall of a particle of dust, I
Speaker 1: leaned forward and looked up the blackness of the wide chimney. Then,
Speaker 1: trying to preserve my scientific attitude of mind, I walked
Speaker 1: round and began tapping the oak paneling for any secret opening.
Speaker 1: But I desisted before reaching the alcove. I saw my
Speaker 1: face in a mirror white.
Speaker 3: I mean, what color do you think he was?
Speaker 2: I think he might have kale is a sheet kind
Speaker 2: of thing. He looked like scared, maybe.
Speaker 3: I think so.
Speaker 1: There were two big mirrors in the room, each with
Speaker 1: a pair of sconces bearing candles, and on the mantelshelf,
Speaker 1: too were candles and china candlesticks. All these I lit
Speaker 1: one after the other. The fire was laid an unexpected
Speaker 1: consideration from the old housekeeper, and I lit it to
Speaker 1: keep down any disposition to shiver, and when it was
Speaker 1: burning well, I stood round with my back to it
Speaker 1: and regarded the room again. I had pulled up a
Speaker 1: chintz covered armchair and a table to form a kind
Speaker 1: of barricade before me. On this lay my revolver ready
Speaker 1: to hand. Oh that's right, he's strapped. That was pretty important.
Speaker 1: My precise examination had done me a little good, but
Speaker 1: I still found the remoter darkness of the place, in
Speaker 1: its perfect stillness, too stimulating for the imagination. The echoing
Speaker 1: of the stir and crackling of the fire was no
Speaker 1: sort of comfort to me. The shadow in the alcove
Speaker 1: at the end of the room began to display that
Speaker 1: indefinable quality of a presence, that odd suggestion of a lurking,
Speaker 1: living thing that comes so easily in silence and solitude.
Speaker 1: And to reassure myself, I walked with a candle into
Speaker 1: it and satisfied myself that there was nothing tangible there.
Speaker 1: I stood that can upon the floor of the alcove
Speaker 1: and left it in that position. By this time I
Speaker 1: was in a state of considerable nervous tension, although to
Speaker 1: my reason there was no adequate cause for my condition.
Speaker 1: My mind, however, was perfectly clear. I postulated quite unreservedly
Speaker 1: that nothing supernatural could happen, and to pass the time,
Speaker 1: I began stringing some rhymes together in Goldsby fashioned concerning
Speaker 1: the original legend.
Speaker 3: Of the place.
Speaker 1: A few I spoke aloud, but the echoes were not pleasant.
Speaker 1: For some reason, I also abandoned after a time a
Speaker 1: conversation with myself upon the impossibility of ghosts and haunting.
Speaker 1: My mind reverted to the three old and distorted people downstairs,
Speaker 1: and I tried to keep it upon that topic. Yeah,
Speaker 1: so he's like doing the uh oh, I'm not scared
Speaker 1: thing right, knocking himself out of.
Speaker 2: It and Ingldsby apparently wrote legends and laws and stuff
Speaker 2: as poems.
Speaker 3: I guess, okay, that's a name.
Speaker 2: Yeah ready, yep, I am too. The somber reds and
Speaker 2: grays of the room troubled me. Even with its seven candles,
Speaker 2: the place was merely dim. The light in the alcove
Speaker 2: flaring in a draft, and the fire flickering kept the
Speaker 2: shadows and penumber perpetually shifting and stirring in a noiseless
Speaker 2: flighty dance. Casting about. For a remedy, I recalled the
Speaker 2: wax candles I had seen in the corridor, and with
Speaker 2: a slight effort, carrying a candle and leaving the door open,
Speaker 2: I walked out into the moonlight, and presently returned with
Speaker 2: as many as ten these. I put in the various
Speaker 2: knick knacks of china with which the room was sparsely
Speaker 2: adorned and lit, and placed them where the shadows had
Speaker 2: lain deepest, some on the floor, some in the window.
Speaker 2: Recesses arranging and re arranging them, until at last my
Speaker 2: seventeen candles were so placed that not an inch of
Speaker 2: the room but had the direct light of at least
Speaker 2: one of them. It occurred to me that when the
Speaker 2: ghosts came, I could warn him not to trip over them.
Speaker 2: Ha ha. The room was now quite brightly illuminated. There
Speaker 2: was something very cheering and reassuring in these little silent,
Speaker 2: streaming flames, and to notice their steady diminution of length
Speaker 2: offered me an occupation and gave me a reassuring sense
Speaker 2: of the passage of time.
Speaker 1: Can you imagine what a like Now you go into
Speaker 1: a scary room, you just turn on all those lights exactly.
Speaker 1: This took twenty minutes to do it back then right.
Speaker 2: And also he's like, so trying to make time pass
Speaker 2: that he's staring at candles melting. Yeah, that's reassuring. That's
Speaker 2: how it kind of up an arms.
Speaker 3: He is. Yeah. Good times.
Speaker 2: Even with that, however, the brooining expectation of the vigil
Speaker 2: weighed heavily upon me. I stood watching the minute hand
Speaker 2: of my watch creep toward midnight. Then something happened in
Speaker 2: the alcove. I did not see the candle go out.
Speaker 2: I simply turned and saw that the darkness was there,
Speaker 2: as one might start and see the unexpected presence of
Speaker 2: a stranger. The black shadow had sprung back to its place.
Speaker 2: By Jove said, I allowed, recovering from my surprise that
Speaker 2: drafts a strong one, and taking the match box from
Speaker 2: the table, I walked across the room in a leisurely
Speaker 2: manner to relight the corner.
Speaker 3: Again.
Speaker 2: I get the impression that was a forced leisurely manner,
Speaker 2: don't you.
Speaker 1: Yeah, yeah, like, oh, I'm fine, everybody.
Speaker 2: My first match would not strike, and as I succeeded
Speaker 2: with the second, something seemed to blink on the wall
Speaker 2: before me. I turned my head involuntarily and saw that
Speaker 2: the two candles on the little table by the fireplace
Speaker 2: were extinguished. I rose at once to my feet ahed,
Speaker 2: I said, did I do that myself? In a flash
Speaker 2: of absent mindedness, I walked back ReLit one, and as
Speaker 2: I did so, I saw the candle in the right
Speaker 2: scance of one of the mere's wink and go right out,
Speaker 2: and almost immediately its companion followed it. The flames vanished,
Speaker 2: as if the wick had been suddenly nipped between a
Speaker 2: finger and thumb, leaving the wick neither glowing nor smoking,
Speaker 2: but black. While I stood gaping, the candle at the
Speaker 2: foot of the bed went out, and the shadows seemed
Speaker 2: to take an stepped toward me.
Speaker 1: For the record, I think that a little bit with
Speaker 1: the candle going out but no smoke or no glow,
Speaker 1: that's like, I think that's legit. The scariest line in
Speaker 1: this thing.
Speaker 2: Yeah, it was a really good little little thing, little
Speaker 2: nice details detail, That's what I was after. This won't do,
Speaker 2: said I in first one and then another candle on
Speaker 2: the mantle shelf followed. What's up? I cried with a
Speaker 2: queer high note. Sorry, what's up? I cried with a
Speaker 2: queer high note, getting into my voice somehow at that
Speaker 2: the candle on the corner of the wardrobe went out,
Speaker 2: and the one I had reltt and the alcove followed
Speaker 2: steady on. I said, those candles are wanted, speaking with
Speaker 2: a half hysterical facetiousness, and scratching away to match, though
Speaker 2: all the while for the mantle candlesticks, my hands trembled
Speaker 2: so much that twice I missed the rough paper of
Speaker 2: the matchbox. As the mantle emerged from darkness again, two
Speaker 2: candles in the remoter and the room where eclipsed, but
Speaker 2: with the same match. I also ReLit the larger mirror
Speaker 2: candles and those on the floor near the doorway, so
Speaker 2: that for a moment I seemed to gain on the extinctions.
Speaker 2: But then in a noiseless volley, there vanished four lights
Speaker 2: at once in different corners of the room, and I
Speaker 2: struck another match in a quivering haste, and stood hesitating.
Speaker 3: Whether to take it.
Speaker 1: This is really scary. At this point, I can picture
Speaker 1: this happening.
Speaker 2: Yeah, I mean, think about it. The whole reason he
Speaker 2: went and gathered seventeen candles because he didn't want any
Speaker 2: darkness in there, And now something, it seems as is
Speaker 2: extinguishing these candles all over the room while he's trying
Speaker 2: to get them re lit. I would be flipping out
Speaker 2: at this point.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and that one little detail too, H wells good writer.
Speaker 1: When he's trying to strike the match, but he's on
Speaker 1: the smooth part of the box. That's good stuff.
Speaker 2: Yeah, everybody's been there.
Speaker 1: Uh switch through?
Speaker 2: Yeah, I think switch roof for sure?
Speaker 5: All right.
Speaker 1: As I stood undecided, an invisible hand seemed to sweep
Speaker 1: out the two candles on the table with a cry
Speaker 1: of terror. I dashed at the alcove.
Speaker 3: You can do the cry of tear, then into the.
Speaker 2: Cry of terror.
Speaker 1: Oh goodness, then into the corner, and then into the window,
Speaker 1: relighting three as two more vanished by the fireplace, and
Speaker 1: then perceiving a better way, I dropped matches on the
Speaker 1: iron bound deed box in the corner and caught up
Speaker 1: the bedroom candlestick. I don't what is he doing there.
Speaker 2: I don't quite follow that he has he's basically forgotten
Speaker 2: the matches. Now he's just gonna like use a candle.
Speaker 1: Though, Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, that'ld move With this, I
Speaker 1: avoided the delay of okay, I just should have kept
Speaker 1: breathing with this. I avoided the delay of striking matches.
Speaker 1: But for all that, the steady process of extinction went on,
Speaker 1: and the shadows I feared and fought against returned and
Speaker 1: crept in upon me. First a step gained on this
Speaker 1: side of me, then on that. I was now almost
Speaker 1: frantic with the horror of the coming darkness, and my
Speaker 1: self possession deserted me. I leaped, panting from candle to cantle,
Speaker 1: in a vain struggle against that remorseless advance. Nice I
Speaker 1: bruised myself in the thigh against the table, I sent
Speaker 1: a chair headlong. I stumbled and fell, and whisked the
Speaker 1: cloth from the table in my fall.
Speaker 3: It's got's like at three stitches.
Speaker 1: My candle rolled away from me, and I snatched another
Speaker 1: as I rose abruptly. This was blown out as I
Speaker 1: swung it off the table by the wind of my
Speaker 1: sudden movement, and immediately the two remaining candles followed. But
Speaker 1: there was light still in the room, a red light
Speaker 1: that streamed across the ceiling and staved off the shadows
Speaker 1: from the fire. Of course, I could still thrust my
Speaker 1: candle between the bars and relight it. I turned to
Speaker 1: where the flames were still dancing between the glowing coals
Speaker 1: and splashing red reflections upon the furniture, made two steps
Speaker 1: toward the grate, and incontinent, incontinently, Yeah, did.
Speaker 3: You poop themself?
Speaker 2: Or peeded one of the two?
Speaker 3: Okay?
Speaker 1: And incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished, the glow vanished,
Speaker 1: the reflections rushed together and disappeared. And as I thrust
Speaker 1: the candle between the bars, darkness closed upon me, like
Speaker 1: the shutting of an eye, wrapping around me in a
Speaker 1: stifling embrace, sealed my vision and crushed the last vestiges
Speaker 1: of self possession from my brain. And it was not
Speaker 1: only palpable darkness, but intolerable terror. The candle fell from
Speaker 1: my hands. I flung out my arms in a vain
Speaker 1: effort to thrust that ponderous blackness away from me, and,
Speaker 1: lifting up my voice, screamed with all of my might, once, twice, thrice.
Speaker 6: Ah ah ah.
Speaker 1: Then I think I must have staggered to my feet.
Speaker 1: I know, I thought suddenly of the moonlit corridor, and
Speaker 1: with my my head bowed on my arms over my face,
Speaker 1: made a stumbling run for the door. But I had
Speaker 1: forgotten the exact position of the door, and I struck
Speaker 1: myself heavily against the corner of the bed. I staggered back,
Speaker 1: turned and was either struck or struck myself against some
Speaker 1: other bulky furnishing. I have a vague memory of battering
Speaker 1: myself thus to and fro in the darkness of a
Speaker 1: heavy blow at last up on my forehead, of a
Speaker 1: horrible sensation of falling that lasted an age of my
Speaker 1: last frantic effort to keep my footing.
Speaker 3: And then I remember no more.
Speaker 1: Boy, that's some good folly work right there, my friend,
Speaker 1: Thank you.
Speaker 2: I've been I would say I was practicing, but it
Speaker 2: is all to soft.
Speaker 3: The cuff, all right.
Speaker 1: So this guy a key detail there is like I
Speaker 1: was either struck myself or was struck and like that's
Speaker 1: a key detail, bro for sure.
Speaker 2: But for all intents and purposes, it does not matter
Speaker 2: at this point because he's been knocked out. And frankly,
Speaker 2: I think we have a little bit of detail about
Speaker 2: what happened to that earl, that count who fell headlong
Speaker 2: out of the door.
Speaker 1: Right yeah, I think I see where this is headed.
Speaker 3: Ready, I'm taking it home, Take it home, baby.
Speaker 2: I opened my eyes in daylight. My head was roughly bandaged,
Speaker 2: and the man with the withered hand was watching my face.
Speaker 2: I looked about me, trying to remember what had happened,
Speaker 2: and for a space I could not recollect. I rolled
Speaker 2: my eyes into the corner and saw the old woman,
Speaker 2: no longer abstracted, no longer terrible, pouring out some drops
Speaker 2: of medicine from a little blue file into a glass.
Speaker 2: Where am I? I said, I seem to remember you,
Speaker 2: and yet I cannot remember who you are. They told
Speaker 2: me then, And I heard of the haunted room as
Speaker 2: one hears a tale. Let's see, I think this is
Speaker 2: the old man with the withered arm. Yeah, we found
Speaker 2: you at dawn, said he. And there was blood on
Speaker 2: your forehead and lips. I wondered that I had ever
Speaker 2: disliked him. The three of them in the daylight seemed commonplace,
Speaker 2: old folk enough. The man with the green shade had
Speaker 2: his head been as one who sleeps. It was very
Speaker 2: slowly I recovered the memory of my experience. You believe now,
Speaker 2: said the old man with the withered hand, that the
Speaker 2: room is haunted. He spoke no longer as one who
Speaker 2: greets an intruder, but is one who condoles with the friend. Yes,
Speaker 2: said I, the room is haunted, and you have seen it,
Speaker 2: and we who have been here all alives, have never
Speaker 2: set eyes upon it, because we have never dared TuS.
Speaker 2: Is it truly the old earl who no, said I
Speaker 2: it is not, I told you show, said the old
Speaker 2: lady with the glass in her hand.
Speaker 1: It is his poor young countess who is fright.
Speaker 2: It is not, I said. There is neither ghost of
Speaker 2: earl nor ghost of countess in that room. There is
Speaker 2: no ghost there at all, but worse, far worse, something impalpable.
Speaker 3: Well, not bad, Yeah, the.
Speaker 2: Worst of all the things that haunt poor mortal men,
Speaker 2: said I. And that is in all its nakedness, fear, fear.
Speaker 2: It will not have light nor sound, that will not
Speaker 2: bear with reason, that deafens and darkens and overwhelms. It
Speaker 2: followed me through the corridor. It fought against me. In
Speaker 2: the room. I stopped abruptly. There was an interval of silence.
Speaker 2: My hand went up to my bandages. The candles went out,
Speaker 2: one after another, and I fled. Then the man with
Speaker 2: the shade lifted his face sideways to see me and spoke,
Speaker 2: that is it, said he.
Speaker 3: I knew that was yet a power of darkness? Is
Speaker 3: he Sean Connery.
Speaker 2: Sean Conry and James Earl Jones had a baby. And
Speaker 2: this guy's it.
Speaker 1: A power of darkness to put such a curse upon
Speaker 1: a home. It looks they're always You can feel it,
Speaker 1: even in the daytime, even of a bright summer's day,
Speaker 1: and the hangings curtains keeping behind you. However you face
Speaker 1: about in the dusk, it creeps in the corridor and
Speaker 1: follows you so that you dare not turn. It is
Speaker 1: even as you say, fear itself is in that room,
Speaker 1: black fear, and there it will be so long is
Speaker 1: this house of sin indoors? Wowsy wows or wowser?
Speaker 2: You really finished that in grand style. Man, that was great.
Speaker 3: Stuff, Thanks dude, Man HG.
Speaker 1: Wells. That is no wonder he was a popular writer.
Speaker 1: That's good stuff.
Speaker 2: Still is popular. We just brought him back, buddy. Yeah,
Speaker 2: so I guess we should take a message break.
Speaker 3: Huh No, No, not for how to We Eat?
Speaker 2: That never gets old for me. I think I say
Speaker 2: that every year. Yeah, I love it, so, yeah, I
Speaker 2: guess then we'll move on to the next one. This
Speaker 2: is your right.
Speaker 1: Yeah. This is called the Misanthrope by J. D. Beresford.
Speaker 1: And you'll see what's going on here? Got to do
Speaker 1: with a lot of these stories are the same. I
Speaker 1: feel like, yeah, horror writing back then, these short stories
Speaker 1: often had to do with people investigating some creepy place
Speaker 1: where something creepy had happened, or maybe that's all horror.
Speaker 2: Movie, and they were usually approaching it from like a
Speaker 2: rational mind, and they end up like being proven that
Speaker 2: there's something worse there, and yeah, it's good stuff.
Speaker 3: All right, it works.
Speaker 1: So what am I doing again?
Speaker 2: I'm the visitor to the island and the boatman and
Speaker 2: you're the.
Speaker 3: Herm Okay, that's right, right? Why do we bother working
Speaker 3: this out?
Speaker 2: I don't know.
Speaker 3: I always forget all right, here we go.
Speaker 1: Everybody, pour up a spoopy drink, blow out the candles,
Speaker 1: relight them, blow them out again, and listen to the
Speaker 1: Misanthrope by J. D.
Speaker 3: Beresford. Take it away, Josh, did you say spoopy? Very nice?
Speaker 2: Since I have returned from the rock and discussed the
Speaker 2: story in all its bearings, I've begun to wonder if
Speaker 2: the man made a fool of me. In the deeps
Speaker 2: of my consciousness, I feel that he did not. Nevertheless,
Speaker 2: I cannot resist the effect of all the laughter that
Speaker 2: has been evoked by my narrative. Here on the mainland,
Speaker 2: the whole thing seems unlikely, grotesque, foolish. On the rock,
Speaker 2: the man's confession carried absolute conviction. The setting is everything,
Speaker 2: and I am perhaps thankful that my present circumstances are
Speaker 2: so beautifully conducive to sanity. No one appreciates the mystery
Speaker 2: of life more than I do. But when the mystery
Speaker 2: involves such a doubt of one's self, I find it
Speaker 2: pleasanter to forget. Naturally, I do not want to believe
Speaker 2: the story. If I did, I should know myself to
Speaker 2: be some kind of human horror. And the terror of
Speaker 2: it all lies in the fact that I may never
Speaker 2: know precisely what kind. Before I went, we had eliminated
Speaker 2: the facile and banal explanation that the man was mad,
Speaker 2: and had fallen back upon two inevitable alternatives, crime and
Speaker 2: disappointed love. We were human and romantic, and we tried
Speaker 2: desperately hard not to be too obvious. That is the
Speaker 2: most inscrutable paragraph I've ever read in my entire life. Yeah, right,
Speaker 2: Once before a man had made the same attempt, and
Speaker 2: had built or tried to build a house on the
Speaker 2: Golden Rock, but he had been defeated within a fortnight,
Speaker 2: and what was left of his building was taken off
Speaker 2: the island and turned into a tin church. Is there
Speaker 2: still We all went to trevone and ruminated over and
Speaker 2: round it, perhaps with some faint hope that one of
Speaker 2: us might, all unknowing, have the abilities of a psychometrist.
Speaker 2: So I think what he's saying, there's something on this
Speaker 2: island that he's very interested in. There's a person that
Speaker 2: he's trying to figure out what their deal is, and
Speaker 2: they're so into it that he and his group of
Speaker 2: friends went to visit this tin church that had won's
Speaker 2: been a house on this island for like two weeks,
Speaker 2: just in an effort to glean some sort of information,
Speaker 2: even psychic information if possible.
Speaker 1: Yeah, and he's recounting this, So he's recounting something that
Speaker 1: has already happened to him that he's very sort of
Speaker 1: embarrassed about.
Speaker 2: Yes, And we both read this already, and I can
Speaker 2: promise you everybody, it gets more comprehensible as things go on.
Speaker 2: As a matter of fact, we should probably reread this
Speaker 2: beginning at the answer and be like, oh, okay, I
Speaker 2: get it.
Speaker 1: Yeah, it kind of makes sense. It's sort of like
Speaker 1: the movie that picks up with the guy that all
Speaker 1: the stuff has already happened, and then he's like, and
Speaker 1: here's the story.
Speaker 2: Yeah, but at the beginning of Sunset Boulevard, no one's like,
Speaker 2: what are you talking about? This story doesn't fall into
Speaker 2: the same category. Okay, here I go. Nothing came of
Speaker 2: that visit. This is the visit to that ten chirt,
Speaker 2: but a slight intensification of those theories that were already
Speaker 2: becoming a little stale. We compared the early failure of
Speaker 2: thirty years ago, the attempt that was baffled with the
Speaker 2: present success. For this new misanthrope had lived on the
Speaker 2: gullen through the whole winter and still lived. Indeed, the
Speaker 2: fact of his presence on the awful lump of rock
Speaker 2: was now accepted by the country people. To them, he
Speaker 2: was scarcely a shade madder than the other visitors. That
Speaker 2: renunerative recurrent host that this year broke their journey to
Speaker 2: Bedrethon in order to stand on the Trevone Beach and
Speaker 2: stare foolishly at just the visible hut that struck like
Speaker 2: a cubicle gull on the landward face of that humped,
Speaker 2: desolate island. The best I can tell is there's somebody
Speaker 2: who lives there now, this hermit you on this island,
Speaker 2: and the country people who live on the mainland just
Speaker 2: off of the island are like whatever. They don't think
Speaker 2: too much of him, but they can see his hut
Speaker 2: from their house on the mainland.
Speaker 3: Yeah, that sounds about right.
Speaker 2: You want to take over. You want me to keep
Speaker 2: reading a jumble of words that barely makes sense.
Speaker 3: I'll go okay, all right.
Speaker 1: We all did that, stared at nothing in particular, and
Speaker 1: meditated enormously, but in what I felt at the time
Speaker 1: was a wild spirit of adventure. I went out one
Speaker 1: night to the point of gun ver Head and saw
Speaker 1: an actual light within that distant hut, a patch of
Speaker 1: golden lichen on the mother parasite.
Speaker 2: I like that.
Speaker 1: Yeah, great line, some aspect of humanity I found in
Speaker 1: that light. It was that finally decided me that in
Speaker 1: some quality of sympathy, perhaps with the hermit, mad criminal
Speaker 1: or lovelorn who had found sanctuary from the pestilent touch
Speaker 1: of the encroaching crowd. It was, in fact a wildish night,
Speaker 1: and I stayed until the little yellow speck went out,
Speaker 1: and all I could see through the murk was an
Speaker 1: occasional canopy of curving spray when the elbow of the
Speaker 1: trebon light touched a bare corner of that black Gulland
Speaker 1: so this guy's just watching this island as well, But
Speaker 1: he feels a little empathy, maybe.
Speaker 2: Ye toward this guy sounds like it.
Speaker 1: The making of a decision was no difficult matter. But
Speaker 1: while I waited for the necessary calm that would permit
Speaker 1: the occasional boat to land provisions on the island two
Speaker 1: miles out from the mainland, I suffered qualms of doubt
Speaker 1: and nervousness. And I suffered them alone, for I had
Speaker 1: determined that no hint of my adventure should be given
Speaker 1: to anyone of our party until the voyage had been made.
Speaker 1: They might think that I had gone fishing, an excuse
Speaker 1: which had all the air probability given to it by
Speaker 1: the coming of the boatmen to say that the tide
Speaker 1: and wind would serve that morning. I had warned and
Speaker 1: bribed him to give no clue to my friends of
Speaker 1: the goal of my proposed excursion. So this guy's going
Speaker 1: to go out there on a boat, But He's like,
Speaker 1: don't tell.
Speaker 3: Anyone I'm doing ditching his friends. Ditching his friends.
Speaker 1: My nervousness suffered no decrease. As we approached the rock
Speaker 1: and saw the authentic figure of its single inhabitant awaiting
Speaker 1: our arrival. I had some consolation in the thought that
Speaker 1: he would be in some way I'm prepared by the
Speaker 1: sight of our surprisingly passengered boat. But my mind shuddered
Speaker 1: at the necessity for using some conventional form of address.
Speaker 1: If I would make at once my introduction and excuse,
Speaker 1: the civilized opening was so helplessly incapable of expressing my sympathy,
Speaker 1: presenting instead so unmistakably it seemed to me the single
Speaker 1: solution of common curiosity. I wondered that he had not,
Speaker 1: as the boatman so clearly assured me, was the case
Speaker 1: had other prying visitors before me. My self consciousness increased
Speaker 1: as we came nearer to the single opening among the
Speaker 1: spiked rocks that served as a miniature harbor at half tide.
Speaker 1: I felt that I was being watched by the man
Speaker 1: who now stood awaiting us at water's edge, and suddenly
Speaker 1: my spirit broke. I decided that I could not force
Speaker 1: myself upon him that I would remain in the boat
Speaker 1: while its cargo was delivered, and then return with a
Speaker 1: boatman to Trevone. So resolute was I in this plan
Speaker 1: that when we had pulled into the tiny landing space,
Speaker 1: I kept my gaze steadfastly averted from the man I
Speaker 1: had come to see, and stay there solemnly out at
Speaker 1: the humped back of trebone, now seen in an entirely
Speaker 1: new aspect. All right, So this guy's having second thoughts now,
Speaker 1: He's like, I'm already out here, and maybe I should
Speaker 1: just go back.
Speaker 2: Yeah, maybe I shouldn't force myself on a hermit who
Speaker 2: I want to find out. What's your deal man?
Speaker 1: Yeah, exactly, Why don't you take over? Because there's a
Speaker 1: lot of me stuff.
Speaker 2: Okay. The sound of the hermit's voice startled me from
Speaker 2: a perfectly genuine abstraction.
Speaker 3: Fairly decent weather today.
Speaker 2: He remarked with, I thought a touch of nervousness he had,
Speaker 2: I remembered addressed the same remark to the boatmen, who
Speaker 2: were now conveying their cargo up to the hut. I
Speaker 2: looked up and meta's stare. He was, indeed regarding me
Speaker 2: with a curious effect of concentration, as if he were
Speaker 2: eager to know every detail of my expression. Jolly, I
Speaker 2: replied him pretty basically. The last day or two kept
Speaker 2: her rather short, hasn't it.
Speaker 1: I make allowances for that, he said, keep a resume
Speaker 1: of you know, are you I staying over there?
Speaker 2: He nodded towards the bay for a well, weak or two,
Speaker 2: I told him, as we began to discuss the country
Speaker 2: around Harlan with the eagerness of two strangers who find
Speaker 2: a common topic at a dull reception.
Speaker 3: Never been on the gullen before, I suppose.
Speaker 2: He ventured at last, when the boatmen had discharged their
Speaker 2: load and were evidently ready to be off. No, no, no, no,
Speaker 2: I haven't, I said, and hesitated. I felt the invitation
Speaker 2: must come from him. He boggled over it by saying.
Speaker 1: Dashed, awkward place to get to and nothing to see.
Speaker 1: Of course, I don't know if you're at all keen
Speaker 1: on fishing.
Speaker 2: Well, Rather, I said, with enthusiasm.
Speaker 1: There'sh deep water on the other side of the rock.
Speaker 1: He went on, in the right weather you get splendid
Speaker 1: bass there.
Speaker 2: He stopped, and then added it will.
Speaker 1: Be absolutely top zero for him this after noon.
Speaker 2: Well, perhaps I could come back, I began, but the
Speaker 2: boatman interrupted me at once.
Speaker 1: Is this Josh Clark that's visiting this guy? It sounds
Speaker 1: very much like this something you would do.
Speaker 2: All right, you can come back tomorrow, sure enough, he said,
Speaker 2: tide only serves once every twelve hours.
Speaker 3: If you'd care to stay now.
Speaker 2: Uh, thanks, that's awfully good of you. I should like
Speaker 2: to of all things, I said, I stayed on the clear,
Speaker 2: understanding that the boatmen were to fetch me the next morning.
Speaker 2: At first, there was really very little that seemed in
Speaker 2: any way strange about the man on the gully.
Speaker 1: I could picture what heaven here, and he's like, yeah, yeah,
Speaker 1: I'll stay. Then he turns around, he's like, you'll get
Speaker 1: me tomorrow.
Speaker 3: Right.
Speaker 1: He's like, yeah, yeah, this will be great. We'll do
Speaker 1: some fishing, like you guys are coming right in the morning, right.
Speaker 2: They're like sure, sure, we'll be right back. His name,
Speaker 2: he told me, was William Copley, but it appeared that
Speaker 2: he was no relation to the Copleys I knew, And
Speaker 2: if he had shaved, he would have looked a very
Speaker 2: ordinary type of englishman roughing it on a holiday. His
Speaker 2: age I judged to be between thirty and forty. Only
Speaker 2: two things about him struck me as a little queer
Speaker 2: during our very successful afternoons fishing. The first was that intense,
Speaker 2: appraising stare of his, as if he tried to fathom
Speaker 2: the very depths of one's being. The second was an
Speaker 2: inexplicable devotion to one particular form of ceremony. As our
Speaker 2: intimacy grew, he dropped the ordinary formal politeness of a host.
Speaker 2: But he insisted always on one observance that I supposed
Speaker 2: at first to be the merely conventional business of giving precedence.
Speaker 2: Nothing would induce him to go in front of me.
Speaker 2: He sent me ahead, even as we explored the little
Speaker 2: peerlius of his rock. The only level square yard on
Speaker 2: the whole island was in the floor of the hut.
Speaker 2: But presently I noticed that this peculiarity went still further,
Speaker 2: and that he would not turn his back on me
Speaker 2: for a single moment. This is weird, This is a
Speaker 2: this is yeah, it is weird. So but the hermit
Speaker 2: thirties forties, all he needs to do is shave?
Speaker 3: Yeah?
Speaker 2: Is he like he's just a normal person.
Speaker 3: Yeah.
Speaker 2: But there's the one thing about him is that he
Speaker 2: will not let that guy get behind him no matter what. Yeah,
Speaker 2: I get it, okay, So that I think if anything,
Speaker 2: him having that weird quirk would be expected. It was
Speaker 2: him being just totally normal was the unexpected part.
Speaker 1: Yeah, that's what I agree. I agree with it.
Speaker 3: Well it's you, buddy.
Speaker 1: Oh okay. That discovery intrigued one. I still excluded the
Speaker 1: explanation of madness. Copley's manner and conversation were so convincingly sane,
Speaker 1: but I reverted to and elaborated those other two suggestions
Speaker 1: that had been made. I could not avoid the inference
Speaker 1: that the man must, in some strange way be afraid
Speaker 1: of me, and I hesitated as to whether he were
Speaker 1: flying from some form of justice or from revenge, perhaps
Speaker 1: a vendetta. Either theory seemed to account for his intense
Speaker 1: appraising stare. I inferred that his longing for companionship had
Speaker 1: grown so strong that he had determined to risk the
Speaker 1: possibility of my being an emissary sit by some to
Speaker 1: me exquisitely romantic person or persons who desired Copley's death.
Speaker 3: Man, I know.
Speaker 1: I recalled and wallowed in some of the marvelous imaginings
Speaker 1: of the novelist. I wondered if I could make Copley
Speaker 1: speak by convincing him of my innocent identity.
Speaker 3: How I thrilled at the prospect.
Speaker 1: So this guy's just like ooh, maybe he thinks I'm
Speaker 1: an assassin, and maybe I can convince him that I'm not.
Speaker 2: That'll be fun, right, Maybe that'll get me some currency
Speaker 2: with him if I convince him I'm not here to
Speaker 2: kill him.
Speaker 3: Yeah.
Speaker 1: But the explanation of it all came without any effort
Speaker 1: on my part. He said, me out of the hut
Speaker 1: while he prepared our supper, quite a magnificent meal, by
Speaker 1: the way. I saw his reason at once. He could
Speaker 1: not manage all of that business of cooking and laying
Speaker 1: the table without turning his back on me. One thing, however,
Speaker 1: puzzled me a little. He drew down the blind of
Speaker 1: the little square window as soon as I had gone outside. Naturally,
Speaker 1: I made no demure. I climbed down to the edge
Speaker 1: of the sea. It was a glorious evening and waited
Speaker 1: until he called me. He stood at the door of
Speaker 1: the hut until I was within a few feet of him,
Speaker 1: and then retreated into the room and sat down with
Speaker 1: his back to the wall. We discussed our afternoon sport
Speaker 1: as we had supper. But when we had finished and
Speaker 1: our pipes were going, he said, suddenly, I don't see
Speaker 1: why I shouldn't tell you. Like a fool, I agreed eagerly,
Speaker 1: when I might so easily.
Speaker 3: Have stopped him.
Speaker 1: It began when I was quite a kid, he said.
Speaker 1: My mother found me crying in the garden, and all
Speaker 1: I could tell her was that Claude, my elder brother,
Speaker 1: looked horrid. I couldn't bear the sight of him for
Speaker 1: days afterward, either, But I was such a perfectly normal
Speaker 1: child that they weren't seriously perturbed about this one idiosyncrasy
Speaker 1: of mine. They thought that Claude had made a face
Speaker 1: at me and frightened me. My father whacked me for it. Eventually,
Speaker 1: I'm playing this guy over than thirty five years old.
Speaker 2: I realized he's just morphed into hannibal lecture.
Speaker 3: Okay, fly fly Claris.
Speaker 1: Perhaps that whacking stuck in my mind. Anyway, I didn't
Speaker 1: confide my peculiarity to anyone until I was nearly seventeen.
Speaker 1: I was ashamed of it, of course, I still am
Speaker 1: in a way. He stopped and looked down pushed his
Speaker 1: plate away from him and folded his arms on the table.
Speaker 1: I was pining to ask a question, but I was
Speaker 1: afraid to interrupt, and after a moment's hesitation, he looked
Speaker 1: up and held my gaze again, but now without that
Speaker 1: inquiring look of his. Rather, he seemed to be looking
Speaker 1: for sympathy.
Speaker 3: I told my aushmaster.
Speaker 1: He said he was a splendid chap and he was
Speaker 1: very decent about it. Took it all quite seriously and
Speaker 1: advised me to consult an occultist, which I did. I
Speaker 1: went in the holidays with the pater. I had given
Speaker 1: him a more reasonable account of my trouble, and he
Speaker 1: took me to the best man in London. He was
Speaker 1: tremendously interested. And it proves that there must be something
Speaker 1: in it that it can't be imagination, because he really
Speaker 1: found a defect in my eyes, something quite new to him,
Speaker 1: he said. He called it a new form of astigmatism.
Speaker 1: But of course, as he pointed out, no glasses would
Speaker 1: be of any use to me. But what I began,
Speaker 1: unable to keep down my curiosity any longer, hopefully hesitated
Speaker 1: and dropped his eyes. A stigmatism, you know, he said?
Speaker 5: Is it defect.
Speaker 1: I quote the dictionary. I learned that definition by heart.
Speaker 1: I often puzzle over it, still, causing images of lines
Speaker 1: having a certain direction to be indist while those of
Speaker 1: lines transverse to the former are distinctly seen. Only mine
Speaker 1: is peculiar. And the fact that my sight is perfectly
Speaker 1: normal except when I look back at anyone over my shoulder.
Speaker 3: He looked up almost pathetically.
Speaker 1: All right, So this guy's getting the truth out of him.
Speaker 1: This's got something wrong with his eyes.
Speaker 2: Yes, And he found out that there actually is something
Speaker 2: wrong with it because he got his dad to take
Speaker 2: him to essentially, I guess a psychic or something in London.
Speaker 1: And the deal is, though, is the guy when he
Speaker 1: looks over his shoulder at somebody, something's up, right, which
Speaker 1: is why I didn't want anyone behind him.
Speaker 3: Yeah, okay, take it away.
Speaker 2: I could see that, he hoped I might understand without
Speaker 2: further explanation. I had to confess myself utterly mystified. What
Speaker 2: had this trifling defect of vision to do with his
Speaker 2: coming to live on the guland I wondered, I frowned
Speaker 2: my perplexity. But I I don't see, I said. He
Speaker 2: knocked out his pipe and began to scrape the bowl
Speaker 2: with his pocket knife.
Speaker 1: Well, mine is a kind of moral astigmatism, too, he said.
Speaker 1: At least it gives me a kind of moral insight.
Speaker 1: I'm afraid I must call it insight. There are some
Speaker 1: who call me Tim.
Speaker 3: I proved in some cases that.
Speaker 2: He dropped his voice. He was apparently deeply engrossed in
Speaker 2: the scraping out of his pipe. He kept his eyes
Speaker 2: on it as he continued.
Speaker 1: Normally, you understand, when I look at people straight in
Speaker 1: the face, I see them as anybody else sees them.
Speaker 3: But when I look back at them over my shoulder.
Speaker 1: I see, oh, I see all their vices and defects.
Speaker 1: Their faces remain, in a sense the same. I'm perfectly recognizable,
Speaker 1: I mean, but distorted beastly.
Speaker 3: There was my brother Claude.
Speaker 1: Good looking chap he was, But when I saw him
Speaker 1: that way, he had a nose like a parrot, and
Speaker 1: he looked sort of weakly voracious and vicious.
Speaker 2: He stopped and shuddered slightly, and then added.
Speaker 1: And no one knows now that he is like that too.
Speaker 1: He's just been hammered on the stock exchange, rotten sort
Speaker 1: of failure. It was so this guy. Uh, he's explaining
Speaker 1: about his brother.
Speaker 3: Yes, so his look like a creep.
Speaker 2: Right, And he looked at him over his shoulder and
Speaker 2: saw his brother looking really weird.
Speaker 1: Yeah, like his true self basically m hm. And then Dennison,
Speaker 1: my house master, you know, such a decent chap. I
Speaker 1: never looked at him that way until the end of
Speaker 1: my last term at school. I had got into the
Speaker 1: habit more or less of never looking over my shoulder,
Speaker 1: you see, But I was always getting caught. That was
Speaker 1: an instance. I was playing for the school against the
Speaker 1: old boys. Dennison called out good luck, old tap just
Speaker 1: as I was going in, and I forgot and looked
Speaker 1: back at him.
Speaker 3: Hey, that was a flashback.
Speaker 1: Nice work on the fly.
Speaker 3: Mm hm.
Speaker 2: Go ahead, oh am, I narrating, that's right. Yeah. I
Speaker 2: waited breathless, and as he did not go on, I
Speaker 2: prompted him with was he was he like wrong too?
Speaker 2: Copley nodded, weak, poor devil.
Speaker 1: His eyes were all right, but they were fighting his
Speaker 1: mouth if you know what I mean.
Speaker 3: I have no idea what that means.
Speaker 2: I looked it up. I can't find any explanation of
Speaker 2: that whatsoever. So no, we don't know what you mean,
Speaker 2: William Copley.
Speaker 1: I think he just means he looked funny or something.
Speaker 2: I guess, but I feel like he's talking about a
Speaker 2: specific way that he looked funny.
Speaker 1: Well, he says, if you know what I mean, your
Speaker 1: guys should say nobody knows what you.
Speaker 2: Mean, right, Harold, I'll add that line.
Speaker 3: Okay, they were fighting his mouth.
Speaker 2: If you know what I mean, I feel like nobody
Speaker 2: knows what you mean.
Speaker 3: Oh man, you're really milking this one.
Speaker 1: There would have been an awful scandal at that school
Speaker 1: there four years after I left, if they hadn't hushed
Speaker 1: it up and got Dennison out of the country.
Speaker 2: Still no idea what was wrong with Dennison?
Speaker 1: Yeah, I think it's one of those things left unsaid. Then,
Speaker 1: if you want any more instances, there was the occultist,
Speaker 1: Big Fine Chap he was, of course. He made me
Speaker 1: look at him over my shoulder to test me, and
Speaker 1: I told more or less he was simply livid for
Speaker 1: a moment. He was a sensualist, you see, And when
Speaker 1: I saw him that way, he looked like some filthy
Speaker 1: old hog. I realized my accent is completely different than
Speaker 1: the big.
Speaker 2: But it's very pleasing I was going to tell you,
Speaker 2: great job with.
Speaker 3: This, I found it. But he's morphed.
Speaker 2: Yeah, but that's what happens. He's evolved.
Speaker 3: That's right. The thing that really finished.
Speaker 2: Me he went back to the beginning.
Speaker 3: Okay, keep nearrating, though, he.
Speaker 2: Went on after a long interval.
Speaker 1: Was the breaking off of my engagement to Helen. We
Speaker 1: were frightfully in love with one another, and I told
Speaker 1: her about my trouble. She was very sympathetic, and I
Speaker 1: suppose rather sentimentally romantic too. She believed it was some
Speaker 1: sort of spell that had been put on me. I
Speaker 1: think anyway. She had a theory that if I once
Speaker 1: saw anybody truly and ordinarily over my shoulder, I should
Speaker 1: never have any more trouble, the spell would be broken
Speaker 1: sort of thing. And of course she wanted to be
Speaker 1: the person. I didn't resist her much. I was infatuated.
Speaker 1: I suppose anyway. I thought she was perfection, and that
Speaker 1: it was simply impossible that I could find any defect
Speaker 1: in her. So I agreed and looked that way.
Speaker 2: His voice had fallen to an even note of despondency,
Speaker 2: as though the telling of this final tragedy in his
Speaker 2: life had brought him to the indifference of despair.
Speaker 3: I looked, he continued.
Speaker 1: And saw a creature with no chin and watery, doting eyes,
Speaker 1: a fateful, slobbery thing. Eh, I can't. I never spoke
Speaker 1: to her again. That broke me, you.
Speaker 2: Know, he said.
Speaker 1: Presently after that, I didn't care. I used to look
Speaker 1: at everyone that way until I had to get away
Speaker 1: from humanity. I was living in a world of beasts.
Speaker 1: Most of them looked like some beast or bird or other.
Speaker 1: The strong were mor vicious and criminal, and the weak
Speaker 1: were loathsome.
Speaker 3: I couldn't stick it.
Speaker 5: In the end.
Speaker 1: I had to come here, away from them all.
Speaker 2: The thought occurred to me, Ah, have you ever looked
Speaker 2: at you know, you're in the glass?
Speaker 1: I asked, Are you certainly drawing with your toe and
Speaker 1: the sand in front of them?
Speaker 3: Very batchful?
Speaker 1: I'm no better than the rest of them, he said.
Speaker 1: That's why I grew this rotten beard. I hadn't got
Speaker 1: a looking glass here, And you.
Speaker 2: Can't keep it like a stiff neck as it were.
Speaker 2: I asked, you, you know, like going about looking humanity
Speaker 2: just you know, you know, like straight in the face.
Speaker 1: The temptation is too strong, Copley said, and it gets
Speaker 1: stronger curiosity. Partly, I suppose, but partly it's the momentary
Speaker 1: sense of superiority.
Speaker 3: It gives you.
Speaker 1: You see them like that, you know, and forget how
Speaker 1: you look yourself, and then after a bit it sickens you.
Speaker 2: You haven't, I said, and hesitated. I wanted to know.
Speaker 2: I was horribly afraid you haven't. I began again, Er
Speaker 2: you have? Uh? Or have you let me figure out
Speaker 2: how to say this? Have have you looked at me
Speaker 2: that way?
Speaker 3: Not yet?
Speaker 2: He said?
Speaker 1: M M.
Speaker 5: Do you.
Speaker 1: Do?
Speaker 5: You suppose?
Speaker 1: Probably you look all right, of course, but then show
Speaker 1: did heaps of the others.
Speaker 2: Yeah, So you have no idea none how I should
Speaker 2: look to you that way?
Speaker 1: Absolutely none. I've been trying to guess, but I can't.
Speaker 2: Oh man, you wouldn't you know? You wouldn't care. Not now,
Speaker 2: he said, sharply, Perhaps just before you go m ah,
Speaker 2: you feel fairly certain. Then he nodded with disgusting conviction.
Speaker 2: I went to bed, wondering whether Helen's theory wasn't a
Speaker 2: true one, and if I might not break the spell
Speaker 2: for poor old Copley. The boatman came for me soon
Speaker 2: after eleven. The next morning, I had shaken off some
Speaker 2: of the feeling of superstitious horror that held me overnight.
Speaker 2: And I had not repeated my request to Copley, nor
Speaker 2: had he offered to look into the dark places of
Speaker 2: my soul. He came down after me to the landing
Speaker 2: place and we shook hands warmly, but he said nothing
Speaker 2: about my revisiting him. And then, just as we were
Speaker 2: putting off, he turned backward toward the hut and looked
Speaker 2: at me over his shoulder, just one quick glance. Uh
Speaker 2: hold on, hold on, wait, I commanded the boatman, and
Speaker 2: I stood up and called to him. Uh Copley, I shouted.
Speaker 2: He turned and looked at me, and I saw that
Speaker 2: his face was transfigured. He wore an expression of foolish
Speaker 2: disgust and loathing. I had seen something like it on
Speaker 2: the face of a child who was just going to
Speaker 2: be sick.
Speaker 3: Oh boy.
Speaker 2: I dropped down into the boat and turned my back
Speaker 2: on him. I wondered then if that was how he
Speaker 2: had seen himself in the glass. But since I have
Speaker 2: only wondered what it was he saw in me, and
Speaker 2: I can never go back to ask him.
Speaker 3: Ah.
Speaker 2: Pretty great stuff.
Speaker 1: Yeah, torturous ending though, for sure. But I means nicely cinematically,
Speaker 1: you know for sure?
Speaker 2: I mean, isn't not knowing the most horrible thing of all?
Speaker 1: Well? Yeah, especially when you see Kopley turn around and
Speaker 1: look and then look like a kid that's about to puke.
Speaker 2: Yeah, what would have been? Graters? Have you just been
Speaker 2: over and started puking after something?
Speaker 5: Yeah?
Speaker 3: Yeah?
Speaker 1: All over the rock?
Speaker 2: Really?
Speaker 1: Yeah?
Speaker 2: Man, I feel like we should make a second career
Speaker 2: of punching up old short stories and making them better.
Speaker 1: Yeah all right, yeah, I think it's a good market
Speaker 1: in that.
Speaker 2: Let those painters that go around and find like yard
Speaker 2: sale paintings and then paint stuff in them.
Speaker 1: Yeah, let's do it.
Speaker 2: Okay, speaking of let's do it, Chuck, I say that
Speaker 2: this this Halloween Spectacular has come to an end, don't you.
Speaker 1: Yeah, there's been great fun, my friend. This is always
Speaker 1: one of the more fun episodes that we do, along
Speaker 1: with our Christmas special. We have a lot of fun
Speaker 1: doing these, and you did a great, great job this year.
Speaker 2: As did you. Thank you so Happy Halloween everybody from
Speaker 2: Chuck and Me and Jerry from Ben from Dave from Dave,
Speaker 2: from Livia, from Ed from the whole crew. Here it's
Speaker 2: stuff you Should Know, stay safe, and be ghoulish.
Speaker 3: Stuff you Should Know is a production of iHeartRadio.
Speaker 1: For more podcasts my heart Radio, visit the iHeartRadio app,
Speaker 1: Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.