01/11/2015 2:48:56 ¶ ●

## Episode 77 - A Stranger

When a window closes, so does a door. So do all the other doors and windows. The house is alive, and it doesn’t know you, and it is scared.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Today’s top story: there’s a strange person standing in the lobby of our radio station. This person is standing still, in front of the reception counter. Our receptionist, Lance, keeps asking the stranger if they need anything, or if they are here to see anyone. The stranger has not moved. Lance said that he never saw the stranger enter. He looked up, and the stranger was just there, about eight feet away from Lance’s desk.

The stranger has eyes that are darker than some people’s eyes, but lighter than other people’s eyes. The same could be said about the stranger’s hair, teeth, clothing, lips, and skin.

The stranger stands with their arms at their side, weight distributed evenly across the hips – a rigid but casual stance. The stranger can be seen breathing. It is hard to say exactly what the stranger is looking at. It is even harder to say what the stranger wants.

Lance told me he would update me on the stranger, and I will do the same for you, listeners.

Now it’s time for another Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

Did you know that over 70% of the earth’s surface is water? It’s true! Scientists believe that the other 30% is some kind of animal hide. Their data shows that the world’s continents comprise the leathery back of a slow-moving ocean beast. They don’t know specifically what kind of beast, but scientists hope that it’s cute.

Or, at minimum, non-venomous and fairly easy to take care of.

Scientists are hoping they’re wrong about all of this, but given that they’re scientists, that’s pretty much impossible.

Lest the beast reveal its true nature, please walk gently and speak softly so as not to alert it to your presence.

This has been Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

Mayor Dana Cardinal announced this morning that she has been in touch with neighboring city Desert Bluffs.

“It’s a disgusting town with terrible people, and we will no longer speak of them,” she would have announced, if she were me. But, here is what she actually said:

Dana: What does it mean to be a good neighbor, Night Vale? Is it enough that we introduce ourselves? That we say hello? That we avoid eye contact and have sturdy doors and call centers for reporting suspicious activity? How far out does neighborliness extend?

Because I have tapped my friend’s phones, and am using trained birds to record all of their activities, does that make me a kind person? A neighborly person?

It does.

But what about beyond what we can see? Who we can see? How far does our kindness extend? To the limits of our city? To the limits of our eyesight? To the end of our block? To the tips of our noses?

People of Night Vale, we have a chance to help a neighbor in need. I have been approached by our friends to the north…

W– wait, I– I’m being told it’s not to the north. To the east. Oh…which direction are they, then? What? It changes? Really?

Okay.

Shh. Shhhh!

…By our nearby friends in this desert.

Due to financial hardships, the people of Desert Bluffs are in need. We are all in this together, Night Vale. Sickness can spread, whether that sickness is viral or economic. We must not ignore our neighbors, our friends.

Today I have asked the City Council to negotiate a low-interest loan to Desert Bluffs, our proximate civic family. I think they would do the same for us.

[Dana starts sounding as if she is chewing something as she speaks]

If I sound passionate, it is because my heart is full of blood. If I sound boisterous, it is because my lungs are full of words. If I sound like I am eating, it’s because my mouth is full of dirt. Sometimes I chew on dirt when I’m anxious, or when I’m happy, or when I’m talking. I like chewing on dirt.

[Dana returns to regular speech, her mouth apparently no longer full]

I hope you will support your neighbors in whatever direction they live. I hope you will support my decision as mayor.

Good day, Night Vale.

Cecil: Mayor Cardinal’s deputy, Trish Hidge, said there would be no questions. She then picked the mayor up into her arms, pulled her cloak across their huddled bodies, and ran through the crowd, bowling over journalists and onlookers, and some random jogger who thinks he’s better than everyone else because he exercises publicly.

The City Council has already registered their opposition to the mayor’s plan to help Desert Bluffs. The City Council issued their own statement, which was to stomp into their room, slam the door, and play Rihanna very loudly.

I have to say, I agree with the City Council on this issue, listeners. I understand Mayor Cardinal’s concern about Desert Bluffs’ struggling economy, and she is a very kind and sympathetic person. But, as the poet Robert Frost once said, “Good fences make good neighbors. Really strong fences. With razor wire and turrets. Keep those neighbors out.”

And Frost was right.

I support Dana on most issues, but I say, save your sympathy for your own town’s people.

An update on the stranger standing in our lobby:

The stranger is still standing in our lobby. Lance approached them, but grew scared. The stranger stood so still that it became impossible to derive context from motion or activity. Any sound or movement the stranger might make would be completely divorced of linear narrative or conventional meaning. At any moment the stranger could suddenly lurch, or shriek, without apparent cause. Thus the clenching terror Lance felt as he neared the person in the lobby.

Lance mentioned he could hear breathing. It wasn’t labored, but it also wasn’t quiet.

“It was a person breathing,” Lance confirmed.

I’m not entirely sure how Lance confirmed that. I’m also not entirely sure how anyone can confirm anything, so let’s just go with what Lance says.

Listeners, if you’ve been trying to call into the station I apologize, as Lance is too frozen in fear to do much of anything. He thinks he sees the stranger moving, but he also thinks he does not. He is desperate for some explanation of this person’s presence in our lobby, but he has received none.

Lance is now crying, but without tears.

He is screaming, but without sound.

He wants so gain the courage to touch the stranger, to hit the stranger, to punch and punch and kick and claw at the stranger. He wants to feel the relief, a release from the madness of mystery. He would rather experience actual pain than wait any longer in anticipation of the unknown.

Lance wants to sigh, but he cannot. He doesn’t remember the last time he exhaled. He is not sure of what is real. So he is sorry if you keep getting our voicemail here at the station. It’s been a rough day.

More on this soon. But first, let’s have a look at this week’s Community Calendar.

Thursday afternoon, there is a free ice cream social for all members of the Illuminati. If you are Illuminati, please go to the secret underground bunker. There will be ice cream, streamers, and, of course, a bocce ball tournament. If you are not Illuminati, please disregard this notice. Maybe just stock up on some bottled water and bullets, and hope for the best.

Friday night, Dark Owl Records will host a 90s fashion night. Everyone is required to non-ironically wear t-shirts and hats from the 1990s, which were originally ironically worn t-shirts and hats from the 1970s. Owner Michelle Nguyen asked that everyone be as sincere as they can be. Irony will not be tolerated, only studied, museum-like, on puffy truck hats with clever witticisms like “HEY, BEER!” or “I LIKE HIGHWAY” or “DOG,” along with airbrushed pictures of rattlesnakes, eagles, hot glue guns, and screen doors.

Nguyen asked that I not invite the public to this event.

Oh.

Oooohhhhhhhhhh…I should have read the whole press release before reading that.

And…I…just received a…new press release from Dark Owl owner Michelle Nguyen, announcing that the event has been canceled because people know about it.

[Whispers] Sorry, Michelle!

On Saturday, StrexCorp – formerly a Desert Bluffs corporation and now a Night Vale business, owned and operated by beings who are definitely not angels – will be the headline sponsor of a new program called “Free Opera Day,” a weekly community event where anyone can hear opera at no cost. In fact, you don’t even have to go to the New Old Opera House to hear it! Opera will be broadcast from the municipal loudspeakers, which are located on every residential block in the city, and within most residential homes.

On Sunday, the Night Vale Opera will be running their most popular weekly program, “Opera Free Day,” where citizens are relieved of all opera for 24 hours. No one is allowed to play any opera at all. Armed soldiers from a private armed soldier corporation will walk the streets making sure no one is playing any opera.

“What is opera?” one armed soldier will ask the others.

“I don’t know,” another will reply.

“Could that be opera?” another will ask.

“Let’s go check it out,” they’ll all say, lifting their rifles and approaching what will appear to be an automated car wash.

Monday morning doesn’t really matter. Nothing ever did. Be silent, and look upward to the sky as if it had your answers. It does not. The sky is as dumb as rocks. Really dumb. You’ll figure that out early Monday morning, as you passively choose to experience the day in spite of its pointlessness, mumbling, “naught else remains to do,” while brushing your teeth.

And now a word from our sponsor.

Today’s show is sponsored by…well, it’s sponsored by…your mom.

She’s really nice, and she mailed us a ten dollar bill to sponsor this show. That’s well below our usual advertising rate here at the station, but your mom was just the sweetest!

She also wrote a letter saying that she hopes you’re having a fun time listening to the show, she knows it’s your favorite radio program (aww!), and wants you to know that she loves you very much (awwwwww!).

Your mom also wants to know if you’re still seeing that boy. He’s bad news, and she doesn’t like his tattoos. Not that people with tattoos are bad, that’s not what she’s saying, but…

“What do you think his skin will look like when he’s 60?” she added. “What do you think anyone’s skin will look like when they’re 60?” she said repeatedly.

She asked several quiet sad questions about the process of aging. Then she said she cares for you no matter what. She just wants you to be happy.

This message has been brought to you by your mom.

Good news, listeners! I’ve just learned that the stranger standing in our lobby has finally moved. Unfortunately, the stranger has begun walking slowly toward Lance. The stranger raised one arm, imperceptibly at first, but by the time the hand was nearly brushing Lance’s neck, Lance realized it and leapt out of the way.

Lance is currently standing behind his rolling chair, watching closely for the stranger’s next move, even though the stranger is moving so slowly as to appear motionless.

It’s like the old adage about the frog and the frying pan? I mean, they say if you put a frog in a frying pan and then turn up the heat very gradually, then you’re a sociopath who takes pleasure in the torture of innocent animals. Go easy on the frogs, OK? They’re adorable, and ecologically important, but also easy to trick into dying.

[Sound of a distant scream]

[*Gasp*] Oh my goodness! Lance!

Listeners, I must check on my colleague, uh, but first, I must take you to the weather.

[“Meet You at the Gate” by Jayne Trimble]

Listeners, we found Lance.

He was curled into a dark corner of the storage closet, his eyes dull, his jaw slack, his gray maw unnaturally long.

The stranger who had stood so quietly, so nearly still in the lobby before, is now nowhere to be seen. Likely, they are still in this very building, ready to show themselves again at any moment.

I bent down, and took Lance’s hand. He was always a good receptionist.

Well…he wasn’t that great. I mean, there’s no national receptionist ranking system, how am I supposed to know? I’ve never done it myself. Uh, he could have been a receptionist savant, for all I know about the field.

But Lance was a good man. He loved movies. He always dreamed of moving to Hollywood and becoming a makeup artist for major motion pictures. He loved doing makeup. But it was a dream deferred as he could never figure out where Hollywood was, or how you were supposed to get there. Most airlines and bus drivers would stare blankly at him when he tried to buy a ticket. It’s not on any map I’ve ever seen. It’s possible Lance just invented it to take his mind off the tedium of daily life.

Either way, his makeup skills came in handy, as he did himself up just like that poor girl in the closet from his favorite documentary, The Ring. Plaid skirt and white shirt, long hair, and a grotesque corpse face. He really nailed it!

I told him good job, he climbed out of the storage room and said thanks. I told him one day, someone will find out where Hollywood is, and he’ll go there and be a super-famous makeup artist.

He didn’t say anything. We stood in silence for several minutes.

Oh, I’m taking a continuing education class at the community college about the art of conversation. They said every good conversationalist should try to find five to seven straight minutes of no speaking, in order to let others talk. Lance is taking that same class, so we both gave the other person room to speak for those long silent minutes.

Finally, our intern Kate entered and told us her roommate called to say there’s a stranger standing just outside their apartment door. The stranger isn’t moving, or speaking, and won’t leave.

Kate said she needed to take off early to deal with this. She said this several times, each iteration slightly louder, slightly more strained.

Have a great rest of your day, Kate!

Oh, Lance has returned to his work, feeling better. I asked him to check for missed calls, as the light for the voicemail was rapidly blinking to indicate it was full. We apparently received dozens of calls from Night Vale residents reporting strangers – standing, silent, and unmoving – in their homes, or sitting in the back seats of their cars. A few residents were in their beds in the middle of the night when they turned and found a stranger there, lying beside them, empty eyes staring at nothing. Not moving.

Listeners, maybe take a moment to check outside your front door. Check for a silent strange face in your window, or just around the corner at the end of a hallway. Perhaps take an agonizing look into your shower. Just in case. Make sure there is no one there.

If there is, well, be patient. They move pretty slowly, it turns out.

You know what? Maybe hide until the stranger leaves. It’ll be fine…but maybe hide. Or run away. Maybe just huddle down, close your eyes, and hope one isn’t near you right now.

Stay tuned next for the sound of human breathing. Which is probably just your own breathing…probably.

As always, goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

Today’s proverb: I’m a single issue voter. If the candidate is not a baby polar bear, I straight up cannot support them.