01/11/2016 13:56:38 ¶ ●

## Episode 97 - Josefina

Why do birds appear every time you are near? It’s likely they planted a tracking device on you.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Listeners, I’ve been thinking about Old Woman Josie a lot lately. She broke her hip a couple months ago, and has been recovering at home with her daughter Alondra, as well as several beings named Erika whom Josie refers to as.. [whispers] angels. Now it’s illegal to acknowledge the existence of.. angels in Night Vale, but it’s certainly not illegal to point out how loving and kind those beings, whatever they may be, have been to Josie.

I really miss having Josie around, especially since bowling league started back up last month. Apparently, her hip healed but she has had a series of infections that led to her going back to the hospital, where doctors told her there was nothing they could do about the polio virus. Alondra said that her mother didn’t have polio, but the doctors explained it didn’t matter. The virus existed in the world, and there was nothing they could do about it. Alondra pointed out that there was a polio vaccine, had been one for decades. The doctors closed up their books, snorted, and walked briskly from the room saying, [abruptly] “Good day!” without making eye contact. The angels tried to physically carry the doctors back into the room, but Allandra just got an antibiotic prescription and took Josie home.

In today’s show, I wanted to share a little bit with you, Night Vale, about Josefina Ortiz. Her life as a Night Vale citizen, lover of the arts, and friend of mine.

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Cecil: To tell some of her fantastic stories today, I’ve asked Josie to join me on the show. I have her on the line now. Hi, Josie! Are you feeling up to league night this week?

Josie: Hi, Cecil! I’m always up for league night. I’ll be ready next week, or the week after that. I’ve asked my friend Sarah to fill in for me while I’m gone. She’s never bowled before, but she’s a quick learner. She is also a fist-sized river rock, so I’m not sure if she can even pick up a ball and roll it. But like I said, she’s a quick learner. Our team will be just fine.

Cecil: Josie, we are talking today about your history in Night Vale. I think more than anything, your love of opera has been your greatest gift to our town.

Josie: My favorite opera growing up was Puccini’s Tosca. My mother had a copy we played on our Victrola, which we disguised as an icebox, so that the Secret Police did not know about it. Listening to music was illegal then. A minimum of 90 days sentence for anyone caught hearing opera, jazz, or symphonies. Even hearing someone walking in rhythm could be construed as a crime. It wasn’t legalized until John Cage wrote 4’3’’. The sheriff had to arrest anyone caught sitting in silence for that length of time, and our prisons became quickly overcrowded, so they decriminalized listening to music. This was great for my father, who had run the old Night Vale Opera House since it was built in 1904. His early productions were rich but colorful, ornate sets and glorious costumes, professionally trained singers who were only allowed to describe what they would sing with their gorgeous booming voices. And orchestras who shouted out, “LOUD MUSIC HERE!” or whispered, “soft music here”, underneath the text. When listening to music became legal, I begged Papi to make Tosca the first opera he performed with full singing and orchestration. It’s about an Italian singer whose city is invaded by Napoleon. A young man falls in love with her, but she doesn’t notice because she’s also the general of the Italian army, and she crushes Napoleon, and brings peace to Europe, and frees the enslaved people of Svitz.

Cecil: You played me a version of Leontyne Price singing the famous aria from Tosca. What was that called?

Josie: It was called What Up, Svitz? You’re Free Now. Sadly, the old Opera House sat dormant after its last performance in 1983. And ultimately, we had to tear it down in the 1990’s because of the puppy infestation. When we began demolition in 1994, I first met the angels. They wouldn’t reveal themselves to me for another 18 years, but they were very tall and they promised to help me. They had no money and no skills and no real knowledge of opera. I gave them a dollar and told them to get lost.

Cecil: Just so the surveillance van across the street can hear, I totally don’t believe in angels. Thanks, Josie. More stories from your time in Night Vale soon. First, let’s get to some news.

Intern Kareem reports that Hiram is in surprisingly good spirits of a five-headed dragon who is on death row. His execution is slated for later this month. His sister, Hadassah, and her five-headed dragon lawyers have been negotiating with Mayor Dana Cardinal for his release. But talks seem to have stalled late last month, when the dragons destroyed most of Night Vale. Hiram spelled out a pretty elaborate escape plan. He told Kareem he had been watching the patterns of the guards in the prison, befriending a few key members of the security staff, and had gotten a friend of his to slip in some contraband to help with breaking the shackles constraining his five necks, wings, tail, and feet. Hiram would not identify the exact name of his friend, but he said she was a Faceless Old Woman who Secretly Lived in Your Home. Wow, Kareem, your report is really hard to read! God, it’s all crossed out. And then you wrote a bunch of stuff in black marker over it, what does this mess even say? “Off the record, do not read on air”. Oh. [beat] OK, umm.. None of what I said just happened, listeners. Hiram’s in prison. That’s the news.

Cecil: And now back to Old Woman Josie. Tell us more about your life in opera.

Josie: My mother passed away when I was 28, and Papi did not last long after that. They were in love since they were 15 and did not want to be apart for longer than they had to be. So I joined the Night Vale Board of Culture in order to stay active with the Opera House and to support other artistic endeavors in town. In my 50 years on the Board of Culture, we started a Youth Orchestra Society, founded the Night Vale Community Theater, ordered the removal of all French horns from the high school marching band, and supported a performance art initiative to put tarantulas in bags and leave them in the back seats of unlocked cars.

The arts have always thrived here in Night Vale, and many people have applied to serve on the Board of Culture. During my last few years of service, several of the beings who call themselves Erika began applying to be on the board. They still had no money or skill, but they seemed to know a lot more about opera and music and theater. But the city would not allow them on the board, because they said the beings named Erika did not exist. I didn’t understand it at the time, so I asked them all to serve on an unofficial advisory committee I made up to get more arts lovers involved. I didn’t believe in angels, certainly, but I did believe whatever they were, they cared about art.

Cecil: Let’s take a news break here, and then we’ll return to Old Woman Josie.

The Night Vale Transit Authority today announced that they would be reopening the subway, which was closed three years ago, less than half a day after it opened. Spokespersons from the Transit Authority wearing deer masks and performing a ritual dance involving waving hands above their heads whilst squatting with their legs spread outward, distributed roaches to citizens. Upon each roach was a single word. Sometimes the word was something obvious like “train” or “service” or “schedule”. But others had less mass-transit related words like “crates” and “desert” and “destroyer”, and on one particular roach, just the word “Huntokar”. After several hours of people screaming and swatting at their hair and pants, reporters determined that all the word-marked roaches comprised a press release detailing all of the pertinent information about the subway reopening. So as soon as we find all the roaches and place them in the correct order, we’ll bring you more information on the subway.

Cecil: Speaking of reopenings, Josie, you managed to construct the New Old Night Vale Opera House last year.

Josie: It was three years before that, when I realized it was possible. The angels, who had served for ten years in a secret advisory capacity for the Board of Culture, finally revealed themselves to me. I was changing light bulbs on my porch, and my back and balance were not what they once were, and I fell off my stepladder. These tall winged friends, all named Erika, lifted me before I hit the ground. A bright black glow illuminated the air around them and me. One of the angels gently twisted out the old bulb and replaced it. They handed the burned bulb to me and said, “We can change things.” I told them, “Yes, you are angels, I believe in you. You are angels and you can change things. We, we can change things.” And then the same angel said, “I just meant the light bulb. We can change light bulbs.” But I wanted to change the burned-out Opera House. I wanted to build a new one. And the angels called upon Night Vale’s richest citizens, billionaire Marcus Vanston, to join their ranks. And they bought the StrexCorp corporation, liquidated its assets, things like office computers, military grade helicopters and mind control collars. The angel who used to be Marcus managed the StrexCorp foundation and used those funds to build the new Opera House.

Cecil: I always wondered what happened to Marcus.

Josie: Opera is vital to this city, more than you know. Alondra is a good daughter, moving back to her home town, a town she never liked much, to take care of her ailing mother. I’m getting around, I really am better, Cecil. But Alondra, she’s treating this hip thing like hospice or something, she’s asking me about my will, about where I keep my records. She’s going through my stuff asking what things I wanna keep and what we can get rid of. She’s always been a high strung and organized child.

Cecil: I’d like your bowling ball, if you’re getting rid of things.

Josie: It’s yours, Cecil!

Cecil: Thanks, Josie. I won’t need it for aq long time, I’m sure of that. Let’s finish up our retrospective of Old Woman Josie in just a moment, listeners.

But first, let me get to the weather.

[“Everywhere” by Ex Hex]

Cecil: We are back in the studio with Old Woman Josie. Are you and Allandra getting along OK?

Josie: Alondra is a good girl, but she never wanted to live in Night Vale. I haven’t seen her for almost 20 years and she’s doing fine wherever she’s living. Ak-lahama I think she called it. Apparently it’s an actual state, but I couldn’t find anything about it when I looked it up. I think it’s in Texas somewhere. Either way, I left Alondra mostly out of my will. I mean, family things like photo albums, ancestry records, and any of the hot milk I keep in my hot milk drawer, I left to her. I don’t want her to not have anything, I love her. But I left StrexCorp to the angels, to the Erikas, who helped establish the foundation, who managed the foundation, who have done nothing but support opera and all the arts here in Night Vale for decades.

Cecil: Well that makes perfect sense. Is she mad though, I mean that none of the money you have is going to her?

Josie: Not at all, she understands. Plus she’s built a comfortable life for herself. She doesn’t want or need money, but the city does not recognize the existence of angels, Cecil. Without me, they cannot legally run StrexCorp. So it will be left to my next of kin, which is Alondra. Alondra doesn’t want to manage an arts foundation. She doesn’t want to stay in Night Vale to underwrite new play openings or poetry shaming festivals or sculpture punching gardens. She plans to close down the foundation and donate the money back to the city.

Cecil: That sounds.. great?

Josie: Cecil. The Erikas built that foundation. They built that Opera House. Everything they have worked for will be liquidated and given to the very city which denies their existence. Cecil, I need your help. The angels need your help. The opera needs your help.

Cecil: Josie, I..

Josie: Angels are real, Cecil. Say it.

Cecil: [long beat] Josie, you said it yourself. You’re feeling better, you’re up and about, Alondra’s just.. reacting to stress but she’ll get to go home soon, now that you’re healed.

Josie: You’re right, Cecil. We’ll talk about this more next week at league night. We’re not done here.

Cecil: OK, Josie.

Josie: Oh and before we go, thanks everyone who’s been bringing food by the house while I’ve been under the weather. Your old friend Earl came over. I remember you two used to be joined at the hip wearing your Boy Scout uniforms and neck kerchiefs and baseball clubs.

Cecil: Huh. I don’t remember any of that.

Josie: Earl brought me a delicious apple pie he baked himself. He used a butter crust and fresh-picked Macoun apples. He even added some cranberries, capers and metal shavings. What a clever chef! So thanks to Earl, and you Cecil, for looking out for me.

Cecil: Thanks for sharing your life with Night Vale, Josie.

Stay tuned next for the sound of a balloon popping. Stay tuned. It will happen. Eventually. Aaany minute now. Stay tuned!

And as always,
Good night, Night Vale. Good Night.

Today’s proverb: if there’s not a race to get to the dance competition on time, then your screenplay isn’t finished.