15/05/2015 15:45:57 ¶ ●

## Episode 68 - Faceless Old Women

Get the body you’ve always wanted. We know where it’s buried, and can lend you a shovel.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Hello, listeners. I’m back from vacation, and I’m feeling great! I, of course, miss being with Carlos in that desert otherworld, and miss having so much time to relax with my boyfriend, but – as with any vacation – it always feels good to come home.

We had such a delightful time. Carlos and the masked army of nomadic giants that inhabit that place have managed to build a little paradise there. There’s now a roller coaster, and an ice cream parlor, and a beach resort hotel and spa! Unfortunately, they don’t have operators for the roller coaster, nor any milk for making ice cream, nor any water along the beach resort. So, most of those things just sit empty.

Except for the roller coaster, which is constantly running, and filled with the same people who got on it over two months ago, unable to stop because no one knew how to build a brake system. There were terrified screams Dopplering up and down the otherwise quiet nights. Those people are just having the time of the rest of their lives!

More on my trip later, but first, some breaking news.

The Sheriff’s Secret Police just announced that they have captured the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. The Faceless Old Woman is one of two fugitives the Secret Police have been tracking for the past few months. She, and literal five-headed dragon Hiram McDaniels, are wanted in connection with a series of attacks on mayor Dana Cardinal at City Hall.

A Secret Police spokesdeer made today’s big announcement by writing it in dirt with its hoof. The announcement began a couple of hours ago, but we’re just now getting to the good stuff. And reporters have grown impatient with the spokesdeer, who can only scratch one or two words at a time, and then has to erase them before continuing with the next words.

The press conference turned ugly, as a couple of reporters shouted “Speak English!” at the deer. But then, a couple more shouted, “По-Русски!” and the spokesdeer, looking relieved, began speaking in fluent Russian – which flummoxed those reporters who only spoke English, despite their adamant demands that others develop a mastery of multiple languages.

But the big news is that they captured a dangerous fugitive, which is so shocking because, to my knowledge, no one has ever seen the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home – because she lives there secretly. Of course, without a face, I imagine it would be simultaneously easy and difficult to identify her.

More on this story as it develops.

OK. So. Back to our vacation.

Carlos showed me the apartment he built using his scientific knowledge of physical materials and spatial relations. It was a cute little one-bedroom on the side of a low craggy mountain.

Yeah, I know, I could hardly believe it! A mountain, right?

We took turns making each other breakfast whenever we thought it was morning. Carlos cooks a delicious vegan omelette using thick fillets of ginger root for the eggs, and filling it with dried cranberries and capers.

I’m not a great cook, but I make excellent coffee. I generally don’t let Carlos make the coffee because I have a specific way I like to make it using a coffee hammer and angry chanting. I like my coffee like I like my nights: dark, endless, and impossible to sleep through.

After a week’s stay-cation in Carlos’ apartment, we went with the giant masked warrior Alisha on several hiking trails around the desert canyons. Carlos and Alisha showed me the brilliant array of flora that grows in that desert otherworld. While the desert around Night Vale is mostly red and brown dust, with a smattering of white and brown rocks, topped with gray and brown brush, the canyons of the desert otherworld are flush with rich brush of charcoal and tan, rocks the color of snow and leather, and dust that was striped in shades of sunset and mahogany.

And there were mysterious lights in the sky. Just like here in Night Vale. We could not understand the lights, but we understood our lack of understanding. Which is all most understanding is.

Some mornings, Alisha and Doug and the other giant masked warriors would see other masked armies, and they would head off to war, gone for days at a time, only to return bloodied – and fewer in number. Carlos and I didn’t mind, because it gave us more time to ourselves.

Oh! More about our vacation later, but there’s some news, or something.

An update on today’s arrest of the Faceless Old Woman:

Several residents across Night Vale are reporting vandalism inside their homes. Old Town residents Christopher Brady and Stewart Robinson report their living room walls were covered in writing that reads, “You talked! I see you, and I cannot hate you, but I cannot forgive you.” The text seems to have been written with hand-smeared mayonnaise.

Also, all of the toes were cut out of their dress socks.

Said Robinson of the damage, “I think it’s because I reported to the Sheriff that the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Our Home was secretly living in our home. I regret this now.”

Brady added, “I told you not to do that, Stewart!”

Robinson then replied, head in his hands, “I know, Chris. You were right! You’re always right.”

“You should have listened to Christopher,” came a cold whisper over their shoulders.

Stay tuned here as we bring you more news of today’s arrest.

And now, it’s time for another edition of my popular advice segment, “Hey There, Cecil.” Let’s get to your questions.

“Hey there, Cecil! I date a lot of people, but never for very long. I find that while I sometimes say ‘I love you’ to my girlfriend or boyfriend at the time, I don’t think I have ever meant it. How do you know if you’re in love?” Signed, Loveless in the Barista District.

Hey there, Loveless. I think when you’re truly in love, you’ll know it. But you have to be in the right place with yourself to find that love. As my mother used to tell me, “you can’t learn to love others until you learn that others are fiction, and that self is unreliable.”

Next question.

“Hey there, Cecil. My husband and I regularly host dinner parties for our neighbors, and vice versa. When our neighbors come over to the house, they never take off their shoes. I, personally, don’t have a problem with that, but my husband thinks it’s rude. What’s your take?” Signed, Unshod in Old Town.

Hey there, Unshod. Whoo! This is, uh, pretty clear cut to me. It is customary, when you enter a person’s home, that you must always remove your shoes. Then you must remove their shoes. You must hold that person down, take their shoes – just get their shoes off! This is standard etiquette.

We’ve got time for one more question.

“Hey there, Cecil. Do you know the tower? The one that casts no shadow? It also sounds like an un-tuned cello? Do you know the one? Smells like sulfur? Well, it’s glowing now.” Signed, Malevolent in Mission Grove Park.

Hey there, Malevolent. You know as well as I do, that tower was destroyed a century ago. Never write me again!

[Whispered:] Please write me again!

Old Woman Josie and her friends, who are not angels – just a bunch of really tall people with wings named Erika whom we cannot bear to look directly at – said that the New Old Night Vale Opera House was coming along nicely. Although I drove past the construction site the other day, and it’s still a mostly empty lot. The only difference is that they changed the sign from “Josefina Contractors, Inc.” to “StrexCorp Operatics, Ltd.”

Also, there’s a giant opera house there.

But, other than that, it still looks nearly the same as when they broke ground months ago.

Opening night of the New Old Opera House will be June 15th, and will feature the world premiere of an original opera by the famous actor and composer, Lee Marvin – Night Vale’s own immortal legend of stage and screen.

Still no word on what an opera is. Uh, I’m being told it’s like a petting zoo, but with fewer starving wolves. And more intermissions.

Breaking news from City Hall as the Sheriff’s Secret Police say they have now arrested more than a dozen Faceless Old Women. The spokesdeer, still speaking in Russian for the Russian-speaking press, while also writing English words in the dirt for the embittered English-speaking press, say that the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home seems to be several bodies connected to a single sentience.

She seems not to be omnipresent at all; merely multi-present. The Secret Police spokesdeer then laughed in Russian, while writing “hehehe” in English in the dirt.

Faceless Old Woman [a very faint whisper]: You’re betraying me, Cecil.

Cecil: Oh! Oh dear, that's– that– that’s simply not true! I– OK.

[Wet chewing sound fades in]

Now there’s a…very long insect…crawling into my ear. Um…it’s all th– it’s all the way in my ear now! Um, I am not OK with this, Faceless Old Woman!

Faceless Old Woman?

Ah! Aah!

Listeners, hang on while I get this silverfish out of my ear canal.

[Cecil sighs, then there are sounds of a struggle and several gunshots, then a whining sound like an injured dog]

OK. OK. Um, so…traffic.

[Cecil continues to sound distressed as he speaks]

Um, it looks pretty bad out there. We’ve got a jackknifed 18-wheeler on the shoulder of westbound Route 800 near Exit 4, causing serious delays, and the bus depot on Somerset, um…a fire hydrant was cracked open, and now space and time have colla–

OK, I’m sorry, listeners, I…I’m taking my headphones off. I'm– I’m having a hard time hearing myself. I think the Faceless Old Woman really did damage to my ear! Anyway, traffic’s awful, of course. Always is. Don’t drive on Somerset unless you want all of your matter collapsing into a singularity.

Ugh, r– r– really glad to be home. Great homecoming!

An update now on the multiple arrests of the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home: apparently they’ve managed to find 15 more versions of her in homes all over town. But, according to the spokesdeer, the Secret Police are running out of room in the jails.

Also, even at the homes where they have arrested these Faceless Old Women, there are still reported cases of vandalism, and whispers, and suggested violence, and sudden but inscrutable movements in the corners of vision. In fact, these reporters are happening even in homes where an arrest of the Faceless Old Woman had already been made.

Many city buildings, especially the Secret Police’s Secret Police Station, hidden in a hover cloud, have received quite a bit of damage: bird parts in filing cabinets, bullets replaced with worms, badges reading “Rotted Meat” instead of “Secret Police.”

Mayor Dana Cardinal has called on the police to temporarily cease their crackdown on the Faceless Old Woman. The mayor claims she’s been terrorized by falling televisions and window-mounted A.C. units, as well as all of the carpet in her City Hall office being replaced by dark, heaving fur, as if the floor were now the back of some terrible beast.

Listeners, I’m not falling for this bit again! Mayor Cardinal, once my friend, has abused my good nature too much. She bought me at an auction, and has since been using me against my will to rescue her from danger.

Well, she’s just going to have to figure it out on her own this time.

Faceless Old Woman [another barely-audible whisper]: I’m here, Cecil. Shh.

[The sound of the silverfish can again be heard]

Ow! Gr– gross! Stop it, Faceless Old Woman, stop it!

Weather. Let’s go to the weather.

[“Matches” by Sifu Hotman]

Well. I have cotton swabs in both ears now, listeners, and am more than a little bit irritated. But on with the news.

The Secret Police just retracted their earlier reports that they had captured the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. They thought they had been arresting several corporeal forms of her across town, but in actuality they had just been arresting a bunch of faceless old women who openly live in their own homes. It seems, in retrospect, that the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home, still secretly lives in your home, and has never stopped vandalizing your home in protest of these arrests of innocent women.

These faceless old women are now filing a civil suit against the Sheriff’s Secret Police for unfair profiling practices against elderly women who happen to have no faces.

And the Sheriff just issued the following public apology:

“Non-specifically, my bad!” said the Sheriff from his hover office in the clouds.

“In general, really sorry about all kinds of things. We’re cool now, right?” the Sheriff added before dissipating into tiny crystalline droplets, which fell gently, a silver moment to the hardened earth below.

Maybe I did speak too soon about being happy to be back home.

Oh. While I was reporting the weather, I received this voicemail from Carlos:

Carlos: Hi, babe! I heard you were apparently off saving the mayor again just now. I’m sorry I missed you.

So…I wanted to ask…eh– I– I was so afraid to ask while you were here because I didn’t want to complicate our peaceful vacation with difficult choices, but…uh, here goes.

Cecil, remember that building? The simple rectangular building with the tall, pointed top and covered entirely in a tarp? You asked several times what that tarp was covering and I said I didn’t want to say…yet.

And you remember the familiar-seeming man searing dark sunglasses with what looked like blood stains on his shirt but I assured you was just barbecue sauce?

Well, he built that building under the tarp! Cecil, it’s a radio station! Kevin built a radio station! He doesn’t seem to be planning anything evil. In fact, he seems pretty relaxed and friendly these days! He built it for anyone who wants to broadcast or listen to broadcasts.

And, it got me thinking, and I– I– I– I mean– you don’t have to decide now. And– and– you don't– you don’t even have to decide yes at all, but…but– but– but– but would you ever think about…I– would you– would you ever consider…

Ugh!

This is tough to ask on voicemail.

Just call me, okay? Call me when you’re off the air. I love you.

Cecil: Yes. Yes, I would, Carlos. I think I really would.

It was so serene there. So lovely.

Okay.

Private thoughts done, uh, let’s turn my microphone back on now.

Well, listeners, I wonder what Carlos might be trying to ask me? I mean, it’s probably nothing, and…even if it was something, I don’t think I would move away or anything. Hehe…move away? No one said anything about moving away! Who moves away?

I have to stick around a bit, anyway, because my sister and brother-in-law are going out of town for a couple of weeks and need me to look after my niece Janice. I don’t want to disappoint Janice! I mean, how could I disappoint Janice? By moving away?

Why do you keep saying that? Who’s moving away? Not me!

So, I’ll be sure to stay very focused on being a good uncle and guardian. Plus, apparently the mayor needs me around to save her all the time. Hate to leave that behind.

Stay tuned next for the sound of folding cardboard and long strips of tape.

And to all of the faceless old women, living secretly or living otherwise: fight the good fight. Just…leave me out of it. OK?

Yeah, these cotton balls are already soaked.

And, to everyone else:

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

Today’s proverb: Don’t be afraid of the dark. Be afraid of all of the terrible things that are hiding there, and the terrible things they will do.