December 21, 2022 • 22 mins
A memory of childhood; a woman in the shadows; a large pink pig makes a very large sound. Featuring the voices of Malcolm McDowell, Gina Rickicki, and Pat Young. Written by Benji Carr.
See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
M twelve Ghosts is a production of I Heeart three
D audio and grimm and mild from Aaron Manky Headphones.
Recommended listener discretion advised. Blow blow thou winter wind. Thou
(00:24):
art not so unkind as man's ingratitude. Thy tooth is
not so keen, because thou art not seen, although thy
breath be rude. When I was a boy, my father
(01:03):
had a large velvet wingback chair in his study. I
would sneak in sometimes, specially in midwinter, when the darkness
and the cold crept in early, and I'd curl up
in that chair. The warmth of it, the comfort a
cocoon holding a little boy waiting to transform. That is
(01:28):
what we seek in the midwinter, a cozy spot to
wait in while we transform ourselves. Did it work after
a fashion? It's not true. You know that people can't change,
They just do it very slowly. We change inch by
(01:50):
inch over the course of years. The wild passion of
youth mellows into a sort of patience. We don't notice
the slow change in others because we travel at the
same speed, all of us, over the course of a life,
and so we just assumed that people are static, immovable,
(02:13):
when I picture myself as very young, I do not
recognize that boy. He's as far gone as anyone I've lost.
What of grief? Does that not change us? In one
great motion? Mm hmm, oh, mine the time, the time? Hello,
(02:41):
young man, we've been expecting you. Hi. I'm I'm not
sure I'm in the right place. I think I'm lost. Oh,
I think you're right where you need to be. Come
have a saint with Annabelle. H What is it, Lad?
(03:05):
You look like you've seen a ghost. It's just I'm sorry.
I thought she was someone else for a moment. I'm
just me sit, have something to drink, warm up. I'm
sorry you look a lot like her who It's kind
(03:29):
of a long story. You seem to be in the
right place. She's right, glad, we have nothing but time
tell us about her. I was ten when she first
came to me. She was just there when my mom
put out the lights one night, leaving my room after
(03:50):
tucking me in. I first I thought it was a
trick of a light. You know, the neighbors next door
they had these Christmas lights and they'd blink. The stripes
of her dress were all black and white. I thought
it was just the shadow of the blinds flashing on
and then off, on and then off. But when the
(04:12):
lights disappeared, she didn't. She lingered watching me, and I
just stared at the shapes of her, the parts I
could make out. She wasn't fully there. It was like
a double exposure photograph or a bunch of slides that
get jammed in the carousel. Flash of light and I
(04:36):
made at her chest. Lights go off, She's still there,
gangly arms blink again. She has a frown. Those eyes
and their running mess care that didn't drip or move.
I'd look from the window to her. I wasn't scared
(04:57):
of her at first. I was just trying to make
it all out magic eide view master. Her hair was
like Peter Pan or Dorothy Hamill. When Peter Pan comes
to your window. You're not in danger, you're not haunted,
you're not cursed, You're just special. Stories taught me that
(05:21):
the world just opens its magic to you at some point,
and I thought this was my turn. Looking back, I
guess it was. The stripes were kind of cool on her,
like these diagonals. I love diagonals. I was just frozen
in my bed watching her. I kept waiting for something
(05:44):
to start. I didn't want to talk first. I didn't
want to be the one to interrupt what was happening.
I was scared she'd disappear and never come back, that
this was all I'd get. And I was also so eager.
I was shape a king. Her mouth opened just a
little bit, but instead of a whisper, there was this screech,
(06:11):
a metal on metal scraping, like like school bus breaks.
It rang in my ears. It shook my spine, and
I closed my eyes to shut it out. I opened
them again, and I was in a big, old department store.
(06:35):
The lady was with me, smiling and holding my hand,
and we were rushing past all these toys, train sets
and stuffed bears and Christmas trees. She wouldn't let go
of my hand, and I couldn't keep up with her.
For heels clicked fast on the tile, past the crowds,
other families sorting through red dresses, points set us ladies
(06:57):
spritzing passers by with perfume. I could smell it. It
hung in the air. I wanted to sit down, I
wanted to stay still. The lady and the stripes wouldn't
stop for me, though she just kept tugging. I planted
my feet. She opened her mouth again. This time she
(07:18):
had a voice, a normal voice. We're going to miss it,
she said, you need to get in line. I didn't
feel like moving. The lady just picked me up like
it was nothing. Click click, click, and everything in the
place moved past me. I closed my eyes again, hoping
(07:38):
to will myself awake. If I was dreaming, I wanted
it to stop. I just like I wanted to be
where I wanted to be, only that I wanted to rest.
I didn't want to hurry. I opened my eyes and
I saw this pigs face. It had eyelashes, and it
(08:03):
was flying in the air above me. No, I swear
a giant pig was smiling at me, and it squealed
and squealed that same metallic noise. It was morning then,
(08:28):
and I jumped out of bed. I ran to my
mom's room and I told her about my night. It
sounds like you had a really bad dream, she said
to me, rubbing my shoulders. Didn't you watch the Muppets
last night? This wasn't a muppet, mommy. This was great,
big and it could fly. Miss Piggy can fly, she
(08:49):
said to me. Teasing. No, she doesn't. Miss Piggy doesn't fly. Yeah, huh,
she does, she said back to me. Miss Piggy flew
and she was on that motorcycle and went through that
stained glass window. It wasn't like that, I said, that
was just a movie, and she flies all the time
(09:10):
when she's in space. I just sighed and went to
the kitchen for some cereal. I hated when adults wouldn't listen.
The only thing she said about the Black and White
lady was that we should maybe start using my night
light again. My mom never took me on adventures. She
never took me shopping much, not that I can remember.
(09:34):
She'd go for groceries while I was in school, or
she'd just leave me in the car. If she needed
to run inside to grab something, she just cracked a window.
You could do that back then. We lived in a
small town outside Birmingham. I'd only seen stores like the
ones from my dreams in the movies, but there was
never a flying pig. The next night, I was pretty
(09:58):
much home alone. The neighbor girl would occasionally come by
and check on me, make sure the house wasn't on fire.
Mom had arranged it. I think Mom was working. I
don't know. I was watching TV, and you know, I
was laying right in front of it, between it and
the Christmas tree. There was no one around to tell
me i'd go blind. Oh wait, Before I watched TV,
(10:22):
I did check my room to see if that lady
was standing there, but she wasn't there anyway. So the
only thing on was the Andy Griffith Show, so I
was only half watching it and doing a word search.
And then I wanted some coke, so I pushed myself
up by my elbows and I rolled like accidentally into
the Christmas tree. Like five ornaments just crashed down off
(10:46):
of it. Aluminum balls and glass stars just raining down
on me, and I flinched, bracing for the whole tree
to come down, but it didn't. I stood up more
carefully and I checked out the damage. Most of the
ornaments were fine, so I put them back on the
empty branches except one of them. One of the glass
(11:07):
stars had shattered into little red shards all over the
tile by the front door. I don't know how it
got that far from the tree. I went to the kitchen,
grabbed a dust pan and a broom tried to clean
up the mess. I even put it in the garbage outside.
That way, I left no trace for mom to find.
I was nervous, but the neighbor girl didn't see me
(11:29):
run out her back. She wasn't watching. Then I went
into the hall closet to get a replacement ornament from
out of the box of Christmas stuff, but there weren't
any more red glass stars in the box. As I
tugged through it, I reached down into it and I
felt something cold and a little heavier. Taking it out
(11:50):
of the box. It was a ceramic ornament. It was
that pink pig, its eyelashes painted on its ceramics, snout
and mouth molded into a smile. A name was painted
on a jingle bell collar around its neck, Priscilla. The
(12:12):
door to the closet shut behind me, and I was
in the dark. I heard that squeal again, and I
was back in that dream. The black and white lady
was watching me, smiling, but I was away from her
this time. I had a slip of paper in my hand.
(12:36):
Hi Jacob, she said, Wave Jacob, but that's not my name.
I was being crowled with a bunch of other little
kids into this. It was like a dangling cage someone
took the paper from me and just shuffled me into
this metal tube. Around me were all these toddlers wearing
(12:59):
red coats and bows, and there was this piped inversion
of jingle bells. All the grown ups were just watching us,
and the black and white lady waved at me, and
they slid closed the doors to the cage, and I
grabbed onto the grates on the windows. Everything was pink.
I looked in front of me and I saw the
(13:20):
side of that pink pig's face, those eyelashes. Me and
the other kids were just inside of her metal guts trapped.
And then we started moving. We were dangling, flying. I
looked out the window and we were flying over all
of these toys. At first, there were train sets. There
(13:41):
were painted clowns all along the walls. There were signs
with the pig's face on it, Priscilla, the pink pig.
Priscilla the pink Pig. All the other kids seemed fine.
As we flew around the room. I closed my eyes again.
I tried to make it stop. The squeal of metal
(14:05):
hit my ears, though, and I felt this chill. Either
it went down my spine or it was in the air.
I opened my eyes and I put my hand on
the metal grate. We weren't flying over toys anymore. Some
kids were yelling. We were outside in the chilly air,
flying around a giant Christmas tree. I looked all around me,
(14:29):
and I saw all these buildings and the sky. I'd
never seen these buildings before. It wasn't burning him. Nothing
was familiar. As far as I could tell. We were
so high up, dangling inside this pig. I know it
sounds crazy. I looked down and I could see city
(14:50):
streets below. People looked smaller than ants. And then that
horrible squeal happened again. And then the door to the
closet flew open, and my mom asked me what I
was doing there in the dark. Why would you sleep
(15:11):
in the closet, She asked me, come out here. I
let go of the pig ornament, leaving it on the floor,
and I crawled out of the closet. I'm sorry, I
don't know what happened. I said to her, when did
you get back. I've been looking for you all over
the house for ten minutes. She said, I need your
(15:34):
help getting the groceries out of the car. The next morning,
Mom told me to get dressed. She had library books
to return. If I hurried, I could go with her
and get some chapter books. I liked Beverly Cleary, the
Henry Huggins stuff. I was looking through the kids department.
(15:55):
The staff knew me there. Mom went to look at
the newspapers and the Mr. Books. I asked the librarian
if she had any books about Priscilla the pink pig.
You mean Petunia, she asked me, No, ma'am. I said,
Priscilla the pink pig. I think it can fly or something.
(16:17):
She looked at me, weird, you mean that Dumbo looking
thing in Atlanta. I don't know. I guess that ain't
a book, she said. Did you all go to Richards
or something to see Santa Riches? I asked her the
fancy department store over in Georgia. Librarian lady said, the
(16:39):
place with the coconut cake and the big tree and
that kid's pig train that glides on a rail every Christmas.
My husband took me to see the tree lighting last Thanksgiving.
It was crowded, but the choirs were good. I've never
been to Atlanta, I told the lady. The train has
a face like Dumbo, except with a snout instead of
(17:01):
a trunk. She said, because we're Southern. I guess what
do you mean a rail? I started to ask her
does it chug or does it fly? That's when I
noticed Mom was standing over me. She told me it
was time to go. I told her I hadn't picked
(17:21):
any books out yet, but she told me we had
to go and that I should make decisions faster. Mom
didn't have any books either, but she headed to the car.
Her whole mood had changed. She put me to bed
early that night, but in the dark of my room
I could still see the black and white lady watching
(17:43):
me as the Christmas lights would flash through the blinds.
My name isn't Jacob, I whispered to her, My name is.
Outside the door, I could hear my mother talking on
the phone. Mom had that tone she gets, the one
(18:03):
where she acts like nothing's bothering her when something is.
The black and white lady raised her arm. She pointed
her finger at my bedroom door. I got out of
bed and put my ear to it. I listened to
what Mom was saying. She was talking to my aunt Carol,
but I could only hear my mom. Did you see
(18:25):
that she killed herself this weekend. Oh but it was
in yesterday's paper. I ripped out the whole page. The
library gets it here. They declared Jacob legally dead last week,
seven years without a trace. I guess no, I don't
feel bad about it, Carol, He's mine. She wasn't even
(18:47):
watching him that day. She was shopping for purses. We
walked out of there before she even noticed the train
was back. She did it to be with her sons,
supposedly reunited in heaven. I heard my mom laugh, like
actually laugh. Good luck finding him there. I turned away
(19:10):
from the door. The black and white lady just stared
at me, and I stared back. Some nights, even now,
especially this time of year, I see the black and
white lady. She still tries to touch me, but I'm
(19:33):
out of reach. Oh oh no, you've felt a pull
towards her your whole life, haven't you. You've come a
(19:53):
very long way this night, lad. Perhaps you would like
to rest, Yes, I think I would. Eight room on
the left, just up the stairs there. Perhaps you'll see
her in your dreams, Yes, that would be nice. Good night, Annabelle,
(20:20):
Good night, sir, good night. Sleep well. Has she passed
through here? M hm, not that I've seen, but that
doesn't matter. They'll find each other. Love finds her way.
(20:59):
Twelve Ghosts starring Malcolm McDowell as the Innkeeper and Gina
Rikiki as Annabelle. Episode eight, The Pink Pig written by
Benjamin Carr with additional writing by Nicholas Takowski, editing by
Chris Childs and Stephen Perez, featuring Pat Young as Jacob.
Directed by Nicolas Takowski. Original score and sound design by
(21:22):
Chris Childs. Executive producers Aaron Mankey, Matt Frederick, Alexander Williams
and Nicholas Takowski. Supervising producer Josh Staine. Producers Chris Childs
and Stephen Perez. Casting by Sunday Bowling c s A
and Meg Mormon c s A. Production coordinator Wayna Calderon.
(21:42):
Recorded at Lantern Audio in Atlanta, Georgia, engineered by Chris Gardner,
Aeros Sound and Recording in Ojai, California, engineered by Ken Arros.
Twelve Ghosts was created by Nicholas Takowski and is a
production of iHeart three D Audio and Grim and Mild
from Aaron Manky. Learn more about the show at Grim
and mild dot com and find more podcasts from I
(22:04):
heart Radio by visiting the I heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,
or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. H
M twelve Ghosts is a production of I Heeart three
D audio and grimm and mild from Aaron Manky Headphones.
Recommended listener discretion advised. Blow blow thou winter wind. Thou
(00:24):
art not so unkind as man's ingratitude. Thy tooth is
not so keen, because thou art not seen, although thy
breath be rude. When I was a boy, my father
(01:03):
had a large velvet wingback chair in his study. I
would sneak in sometimes, specially in midwinter, when the darkness
and the cold crept in early, and I'd curl up
in that chair. The warmth of it, the comfort a
cocoon holding a little boy waiting to transform. That is
(01:28):
what we seek in the midwinter, a cozy spot to
wait in while we transform ourselves. Did it work after
a fashion? It's not true. You know that people can't change,
They just do it very slowly. We change inch by
(01:50):
inch over the course of years. The wild passion of
youth mellows into a sort of patience. We don't notice
the slow change in others because we travel at the
same speed, all of us, over the course of a life,
and so we just assumed that people are static, immovable,
(02:13):
when I picture myself as very young, I do not
recognize that boy. He's as far gone as anyone I've lost.
What of grief? Does that not change us? In one
great motion? Mm hmm, oh, mine the time, the time? Hello,
(02:41):
young man, we've been expecting you. Hi. I'm I'm not
sure I'm in the right place. I think I'm lost. Oh,
I think you're right where you need to be. Come
have a saint with Annabelle. H What is it, Lad?
(03:05):
You look like you've seen a ghost. It's just I'm sorry.
I thought she was someone else for a moment. I'm
just me sit, have something to drink, warm up. I'm
sorry you look a lot like her who It's kind
(03:29):
of a long story. You seem to be in the
right place. She's right, glad, we have nothing but time
tell us about her. I was ten when she first
came to me. She was just there when my mom
put out the lights one night, leaving my room after
(03:50):
tucking me in. I first I thought it was a
trick of a light. You know, the neighbors next door
they had these Christmas lights and they'd blink. The stripes
of her dress were all black and white. I thought
it was just the shadow of the blinds flashing on
and then off, on and then off. But when the
(04:12):
lights disappeared, she didn't. She lingered watching me, and I
just stared at the shapes of her, the parts I
could make out. She wasn't fully there. It was like
a double exposure photograph or a bunch of slides that
get jammed in the carousel. Flash of light and I
(04:36):
made at her chest. Lights go off, She's still there,
gangly arms blink again. She has a frown. Those eyes
and their running mess care that didn't drip or move.
I'd look from the window to her. I wasn't scared
(04:57):
of her at first. I was just trying to make
it all out magic eide view master. Her hair was
like Peter Pan or Dorothy Hamill. When Peter Pan comes
to your window. You're not in danger, you're not haunted,
you're not cursed, You're just special. Stories taught me that
(05:21):
the world just opens its magic to you at some point,
and I thought this was my turn. Looking back, I
guess it was. The stripes were kind of cool on her,
like these diagonals. I love diagonals. I was just frozen
in my bed watching her. I kept waiting for something
(05:44):
to start. I didn't want to talk first. I didn't
want to be the one to interrupt what was happening.
I was scared she'd disappear and never come back, that
this was all I'd get. And I was also so eager.
I was shape a king. Her mouth opened just a
little bit, but instead of a whisper, there was this screech,
(06:11):
a metal on metal scraping, like like school bus breaks.
It rang in my ears. It shook my spine, and
I closed my eyes to shut it out. I opened
them again, and I was in a big, old department store.
(06:35):
The lady was with me, smiling and holding my hand,
and we were rushing past all these toys, train sets
and stuffed bears and Christmas trees. She wouldn't let go
of my hand, and I couldn't keep up with her.
For heels clicked fast on the tile, past the crowds,
other families sorting through red dresses, points set us ladies
(06:57):
spritzing passers by with perfume. I could smell it. It
hung in the air. I wanted to sit down, I
wanted to stay still. The lady and the stripes wouldn't
stop for me, though she just kept tugging. I planted
my feet. She opened her mouth again. This time she
(07:18):
had a voice, a normal voice. We're going to miss it,
she said, you need to get in line. I didn't
feel like moving. The lady just picked me up like
it was nothing. Click click, click, and everything in the
place moved past me. I closed my eyes again, hoping
(07:38):
to will myself awake. If I was dreaming, I wanted
it to stop. I just like I wanted to be
where I wanted to be, only that I wanted to rest.
I didn't want to hurry. I opened my eyes and
I saw this pigs face. It had eyelashes, and it
(08:03):
was flying in the air above me. No, I swear
a giant pig was smiling at me, and it squealed
and squealed that same metallic noise. It was morning then,
(08:28):
and I jumped out of bed. I ran to my
mom's room and I told her about my night. It
sounds like you had a really bad dream, she said
to me, rubbing my shoulders. Didn't you watch the Muppets
last night? This wasn't a muppet, mommy. This was great,
big and it could fly. Miss Piggy can fly, she
(08:49):
said to me. Teasing. No, she doesn't. Miss Piggy doesn't fly. Yeah, huh,
she does, she said back to me. Miss Piggy flew
and she was on that motorcycle and went through that
stained glass window. It wasn't like that, I said, that
was just a movie, and she flies all the time
(09:10):
when she's in space. I just sighed and went to
the kitchen for some cereal. I hated when adults wouldn't listen.
The only thing she said about the Black and White
lady was that we should maybe start using my night
light again. My mom never took me on adventures. She
never took me shopping much, not that I can remember.
(09:34):
She'd go for groceries while I was in school, or
she'd just leave me in the car. If she needed
to run inside to grab something, she just cracked a window.
You could do that back then. We lived in a
small town outside Birmingham. I'd only seen stores like the
ones from my dreams in the movies, but there was
never a flying pig. The next night, I was pretty
(09:58):
much home alone. The neighbor girl would occasionally come by
and check on me, make sure the house wasn't on fire.
Mom had arranged it. I think Mom was working. I
don't know. I was watching TV, and you know, I
was laying right in front of it, between it and
the Christmas tree. There was no one around to tell
me i'd go blind. Oh wait, Before I watched TV,
(10:22):
I did check my room to see if that lady
was standing there, but she wasn't there anyway. So the
only thing on was the Andy Griffith Show, so I
was only half watching it and doing a word search.
And then I wanted some coke, so I pushed myself
up by my elbows and I rolled like accidentally into
the Christmas tree. Like five ornaments just crashed down off
(10:46):
of it. Aluminum balls and glass stars just raining down
on me, and I flinched, bracing for the whole tree
to come down, but it didn't. I stood up more
carefully and I checked out the damage. Most of the
ornaments were fine, so I put them back on the
empty branches except one of them. One of the glass
(11:07):
stars had shattered into little red shards all over the
tile by the front door. I don't know how it
got that far from the tree. I went to the kitchen,
grabbed a dust pan and a broom tried to clean
up the mess. I even put it in the garbage outside.
That way, I left no trace for mom to find.
I was nervous, but the neighbor girl didn't see me
(11:29):
run out her back. She wasn't watching. Then I went
into the hall closet to get a replacement ornament from
out of the box of Christmas stuff, but there weren't
any more red glass stars in the box. As I
tugged through it, I reached down into it and I
felt something cold and a little heavier. Taking it out
(11:50):
of the box. It was a ceramic ornament. It was
that pink pig, its eyelashes painted on its ceramics, snout
and mouth molded into a smile. A name was painted
on a jingle bell collar around its neck, Priscilla. The
(12:12):
door to the closet shut behind me, and I was
in the dark. I heard that squeal again, and I
was back in that dream. The black and white lady
was watching me, smiling, but I was away from her
this time. I had a slip of paper in my hand.
(12:36):
Hi Jacob, she said, Wave Jacob, but that's not my name.
I was being crowled with a bunch of other little
kids into this. It was like a dangling cage someone
took the paper from me and just shuffled me into
this metal tube. Around me were all these toddlers wearing
(12:59):
red coats and bows, and there was this piped inversion
of jingle bells. All the grown ups were just watching us,
and the black and white lady waved at me, and
they slid closed the doors to the cage, and I
grabbed onto the grates on the windows. Everything was pink.
I looked in front of me and I saw the
(13:20):
side of that pink pig's face, those eyelashes. Me and
the other kids were just inside of her metal guts trapped.
And then we started moving. We were dangling, flying. I
looked out the window and we were flying over all
of these toys. At first, there were train sets. There
(13:41):
were painted clowns all along the walls. There were signs
with the pig's face on it, Priscilla, the pink pig.
Priscilla the pink Pig. All the other kids seemed fine.
As we flew around the room. I closed my eyes again.
I tried to make it stop. The squeal of metal
(14:05):
hit my ears, though, and I felt this chill. Either
it went down my spine or it was in the air.
I opened my eyes and I put my hand on
the metal grate. We weren't flying over toys anymore. Some
kids were yelling. We were outside in the chilly air,
flying around a giant Christmas tree. I looked all around me,
(14:29):
and I saw all these buildings and the sky. I'd
never seen these buildings before. It wasn't burning him. Nothing
was familiar. As far as I could tell. We were
so high up, dangling inside this pig. I know it
sounds crazy. I looked down and I could see city
(14:50):
streets below. People looked smaller than ants. And then that
horrible squeal happened again. And then the door to the
closet flew open, and my mom asked me what I
was doing there in the dark. Why would you sleep
(15:11):
in the closet, She asked me, come out here. I
let go of the pig ornament, leaving it on the floor,
and I crawled out of the closet. I'm sorry, I
don't know what happened. I said to her, when did
you get back. I've been looking for you all over
the house for ten minutes. She said, I need your
(15:34):
help getting the groceries out of the car. The next morning,
Mom told me to get dressed. She had library books
to return. If I hurried, I could go with her
and get some chapter books. I liked Beverly Cleary, the
Henry Huggins stuff. I was looking through the kids department.
(15:55):
The staff knew me there. Mom went to look at
the newspapers and the Mr. Books. I asked the librarian
if she had any books about Priscilla the pink pig.
You mean Petunia, she asked me, No, ma'am. I said,
Priscilla the pink pig. I think it can fly or something.
(16:17):
She looked at me, weird, you mean that Dumbo looking
thing in Atlanta. I don't know. I guess that ain't
a book, she said. Did you all go to Richards
or something to see Santa Riches? I asked her the
fancy department store over in Georgia. Librarian lady said, the
(16:39):
place with the coconut cake and the big tree and
that kid's pig train that glides on a rail every Christmas.
My husband took me to see the tree lighting last Thanksgiving.
It was crowded, but the choirs were good. I've never
been to Atlanta, I told the lady. The train has
a face like Dumbo, except with a snout instead of
(17:01):
a trunk. She said, because we're Southern. I guess what
do you mean a rail? I started to ask her
does it chug or does it fly? That's when I
noticed Mom was standing over me. She told me it
was time to go. I told her I hadn't picked
(17:21):
any books out yet, but she told me we had
to go and that I should make decisions faster. Mom
didn't have any books either, but she headed to the car.
Her whole mood had changed. She put me to bed
early that night, but in the dark of my room
I could still see the black and white lady watching
(17:43):
me as the Christmas lights would flash through the blinds.
My name isn't Jacob, I whispered to her, My name is.
Outside the door, I could hear my mother talking on
the phone. Mom had that tone she gets, the one
(18:03):
where she acts like nothing's bothering her when something is.
The black and white lady raised her arm. She pointed
her finger at my bedroom door. I got out of
bed and put my ear to it. I listened to
what Mom was saying. She was talking to my aunt Carol,
but I could only hear my mom. Did you see
(18:25):
that she killed herself this weekend. Oh but it was
in yesterday's paper. I ripped out the whole page. The
library gets it here. They declared Jacob legally dead last week,
seven years without a trace. I guess no, I don't
feel bad about it, Carol, He's mine. She wasn't even
(18:47):
watching him that day. She was shopping for purses. We
walked out of there before she even noticed the train
was back. She did it to be with her sons,
supposedly reunited in heaven. I heard my mom laugh, like
actually laugh. Good luck finding him there. I turned away
(19:10):
from the door. The black and white lady just stared
at me, and I stared back. Some nights, even now,
especially this time of year, I see the black and
white lady. She still tries to touch me, but I'm
(19:33):
out of reach. Oh oh no, you've felt a pull
towards her your whole life, haven't you. You've come a
(19:53):
very long way this night, lad. Perhaps you would like
to rest, Yes, I think I would. Eight room on
the left, just up the stairs there. Perhaps you'll see
her in your dreams, Yes, that would be nice. Good night, Annabelle,
(20:20):
Good night, sir, good night. Sleep well. Has she passed
through here? M hm, not that I've seen, but that
doesn't matter. They'll find each other. Love finds her way.
(20:59):
Twelve Ghosts starring Malcolm McDowell as the Innkeeper and Gina
Rikiki as Annabelle. Episode eight, The Pink Pig written by
Benjamin Carr with additional writing by Nicholas Takowski, editing by
Chris Childs and Stephen Perez, featuring Pat Young as Jacob.
Directed by Nicolas Takowski. Original score and sound design by
(21:22):
Chris Childs. Executive producers Aaron Mankey, Matt Frederick, Alexander Williams
and Nicholas Takowski. Supervising producer Josh Staine. Producers Chris Childs
and Stephen Perez. Casting by Sunday Bowling c s A
and Meg Mormon c s A. Production coordinator Wayna Calderon.
(21:42):
Recorded at Lantern Audio in Atlanta, Georgia, engineered by Chris Gardner,
Aeros Sound and Recording in Ojai, California, engineered by Ken Arros.
Twelve Ghosts was created by Nicholas Takowski and is a
production of iHeart three D Audio and Grim and Mild
from Aaron Manky. Learn more about the show at Grim
and mild dot com and find more podcasts from I
(22:04):
heart Radio by visiting the I heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,
or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. H
Popular Podcasts
On Purpose with Jay Shetty
I’m Jay Shetty host of On Purpose the worlds #1 Mental Health podcast and I’m so grateful you found us. I started this podcast 5 years ago to invite you into conversations and workshops that are designed to help make you happier, healthier and more healed. I believe that when you (yes you) feel seen, heard and understood you’re able to deal with relationship struggles, work challenges and life’s ups and downs with more ease and grace. I interview experts, celebrities, thought leaders and athletes so that we can grow our mindset, build better habits and uncover a side of them we’ve never seen before. New episodes every Monday and Friday. Your support means the world to me and I don’t take it for granted — click the follow button and leave a review to help us spread the love with On Purpose. I can’t wait for you to listen to your first or 500th episode!
Las Culturistas with Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang
Ding dong! Join your culture consultants, Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang, on an unforgettable journey into the beating heart of CULTURE. Alongside sizzling special guests, they GET INTO the hottest pop-culture moments of the day and the formative cultural experiences that turned them into Culturistas. Produced by the Big Money Players Network and iHeartRadio.
Crime Junkie
Does hearing about a true crime case always leave you scouring the internet for the truth behind the story? Dive into your next mystery with Crime Junkie. Every Monday, join your host Ashley Flowers as she unravels all the details of infamous and underreported true crime cases with her best friend Brit Prawat. From cold cases to missing persons and heroes in our community who seek justice, Crime Junkie is your destination for theories and stories you won’t hear anywhere else. Whether you're a seasoned true crime enthusiast or new to the genre, you'll find yourself on the edge of your seat awaiting a new episode every Monday. If you can never get enough true crime... Congratulations, you’ve found your people. Follow to join a community of Crime Junkies! Crime Junkie is presented by audiochuck Media Company.