The Drowning Man

A choice for wayward spirits; an isolated house on a cliff; a love found in the strangest of places. Featuring the voices of Malcolm McDowell, Gina Rickicki, and April Parker Jones. Written by Nicki Salcedo.

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Twelve Ghosts is a production of iHeart three D audio
and grim and Mild from Aaron Banky Headphones Recommended listener
discretion advised. In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds may moan

(00:25):
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone. Snow
had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow in the
bleak midwinter long ago. So this is the afterlife more

(01:12):
or less, yes, more or less. This is the liminal
space between life and the next chapter. This is the
great in between, the lobby of the hotel hereafter. Does
everyone get this treatment? No? Not. Everyone chooses to come
in from the cold, and those that don't they stay

(01:36):
out there in the dark and the cold. Some try
to return to the place that they were before, but
I can't imagine they'd enjoy it, most of them cling
to a loved one or a house they haunted in life.
Some go back for revenge. But eventually they all end

(01:57):
up back in the wood here, lucky or sulking, depending
if I were to have been followed. Ah, now you're
getting somewhere. Could they follow me in here? Perhaps? But
they get nothing beside a long slumber. This is a

(02:20):
place of rest. There is nothing here but a fire
and wine and peace, and the bell always the bell
call to action, a beginning and end, the tolls for
the traveler. Hello, there you look surprisingly chipper. Come in, ah, Charmie, Well,

(02:53):
I thank you. You must be Augustine, one and the same.
And would you like an I swarming cup of mulled wine. Augustine,
I would thank you, coming right up. Hello, Apologies, I

(03:14):
was swept away in your rosy demeanor and forgot my manners. Augustine.
This is Annabelle. Hello. How was your journey surprising? I
didn't know what to expect. Well, you're in good company.
The wine m hm smells amazing. I hope that you

(03:39):
enjoy it. It's excellent. How interesting to see someone so
happy to be here. Most visitors seem quite unprepared to
be at my table. I have grown accustomed to the unusual,

(03:59):
the uncanny I see. I've sought it out since I
first became aware that there was something beyond the veil.
Do tell it began at the Dalton House. The beauty
of the Dalton House could not be seen from the road.

(04:21):
They said it was better viewed from a small beach
called snow Cove, and the sea if I ever ventured
into the water, though that was unlikely. I peered through
the woods as I drove, watching for hints of life.
I saw nothing. The twisted trees and rocky cliffs were
angry gatekeepers. A few flurries, forewarned of a storm. I

(04:45):
knew I was close when I saw a glimmer of
lights ahead. Dalton House was a desolate gym, like a star,
barely tethered to this earth, and it was my home
for Christmas. By the time I unloaded my bags, the
snow started to swirl. The roads would not be cleared

(05:07):
again until the day after Christmas. I'm ashamed to say
I felt a little afraid, but fear was a welcome
change from my sadness. I was the caretaker at Dalton
House for the month of December. The family promised an
ample supply of firewood and running water. I was capable
with an axe if I needed. Spiders and cobwebs did

(05:31):
not frighten me. I love the idea of a warm
fire and a quiet Christmas Holidays were noisy and crowded
in my family. That meant exhausting. I spent years giving
myself to school and work in my family, but I
never did anything for me. It felt dangerous putting myself first,

(05:54):
but that's what I planned to do. Dalton House was
a job and a lift. December would be a fresh start,
the end of the year, new beginnings. I wandered through
the house. Sofas and chairs surrounded a grand piano in
the parlor. It glistened like a black mirror in the

(06:16):
center of the room. Across the hall, I found a
dark dining room with a low hanging chandelier. I touched
the counters in the kitchen and straightened cans and the
overstocked pantry. Eventually I found the great room, with a
wall of windows that faced the gray sea. The sound
rumbled through the glass. To my surprise, the fireplace roared

(06:43):
with life. The orange flames and warmth lured me further
into the room. I was supposed to start the fire,
and yet there it was burning, hot and bright. Someone
had recently been in the house. Of course, they sent someone,
I told myself. A freshly cut Christmas tree stood near

(07:05):
the window. It was green and damp. The scent of
pine filled the room. Several boxes of decoration surrounded the tree.
I picked up the simple card on top Merry Christmas Augustine.
The Daltons told me that their great grandfather had been
a sea captain. He built this house when he retired

(07:26):
from working the sea. It was clear from the love
put into it that his heart hadn't quite retired. Every
generation after spent Christmas in that place. The house had
been renovated numerous times over the years. I could tell
which walls were built by Captain Dalton's hands. As I
fell asleep on the first night, I wondered about him,

(07:49):
the captain who loved the sea, the house he built,
the state near her. On the first full day, I
barely made halfway down the beach when I heard the bells.
A child ran towards me from the distance. He was
a young boy who waved cheerfully. He wore heavy boots

(08:11):
and a good coat, like he was used to the
biting December wind on the shore. I waved back. I
was delighted to see that I had neighbors after all. Hello,
Mere Christmas. He shouted and looked as excited as Christmas morning.
He found a treasure of shiny rocks. He emptied his

(08:31):
pockets to show me the stones he carried, smooth, jagged
and every color of the rainbow. The boy asked me
to join him. I collected as many as I could
find and laid them on a boulder for his inspection.
He was about to critique my collection when he turned
his head toward the wind. My mom is calling. He
got up and ran down the shore, just as happy

(08:53):
as before. He turned and waved one last time. I
heard the bells again when he shouted goodbye. I mirrored
his excitement with my own as I waved back. If
Christmas had a sound, it was the sound of a
child's laughter and the echoing of jingle bells. That night,

(09:15):
I kept the fire roaring and started to decorate the
Christmas tree. I looked down the beach for signs of
another house or lights through the trees. There were none.
There was nothing but the darkness. The next afternoon, I
met my young friend again. As I walked on the beach,

(09:35):
we searched for slipper shells. He challenged me to a
race and then a skipping contest. I was about to
ask him about his family when he paused, I have
to go. I'll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas. He sprinted
down the beach and remembered to wave at me from
the distance. On the third day, we made a snow man.

(09:56):
The sand and snow were nice compliments to each other.
The boy found rocks and shells for eyes and nose.
I found driftwood. The final masterpiece stood almost as tall
as me. He's a sea captain, the boy exclaimed. I
want to be a captain when I grow up. I

(10:16):
thought of Captain Dalton and looked back at the house.
It was a perfect site from the beach. The house
was painted navy blue with white trim. It looked like
a Christmas dream. The boys infectious laughter filled the air.
I wish I could stay with you forever, he said.

(10:36):
The child turned toward Dalton House. Have you been here before?
I asked. Then the wind changed and he stood up.
I noticed a bell tied to a button on his coat.
When he ran off, he made a familiar sound, bells

(10:57):
and laughter. He paused and looked at me one more time.
Merry Christmas, Augustine. I never told him my name. The
next day, I did not see the boy when I
took my walk. I hesitated when I thought of venturing
further down the beach to where he usually emerged. It

(11:19):
seemed silly to me to miss the company of a
child who I did not know. I was thankful for him.
My eyes were now good at finding the little things.
But without his laughter and bells, the beach felt lonely
and haunted at the same time. That night, I decorated
the Christmas tree with glass ornaments and seashells. Periodically I

(11:42):
gazed out over the sea. Something caught my eye. I
saw the shadow on the water. It was an old
man rowing. He was strong and moved through the ocean easily.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw me at the window.
Our eyes locked. I couldn't make out all the details

(12:04):
of his face, but he was there. He raised a
hand to me in greeting, but before I could return
the gesture, I saw him mouth the single word from
across the distance, augusty. My heart braced. I was afraid.
I touched the glass between us, and just like that,

(12:27):
he was gone behind a wave. I blinked my eyes
many times to see if he returned. He didn't. Who
was he? How did he know my name? Why was
I said that he was gone? The following night, I
sat in a chair by the window and stared outside.

(12:49):
Sadness makes your mind bold and reckless ways. At first
he didn't come. Then as I started to fall asleep,
I heard bells. He was out there on the water.
I felt him. It wasn't my imagination. I opened my eyes.

(13:12):
There he rode for many moments before glancing up at
the house, his eyes on me, Augustine, and then he
was gone. Nothing on the water, not shadow or boat
or spirit. I warmed at his whispered word. He missed me.

(13:35):
How could a hundred year old man who lived a
hundred years ago miss me? I was so tired in
my life and hadn't thought about love. Something in his
eyes and voice suggested that if I chose to live,
love might be waiting for me. A more ly, he

(14:02):
was longing for me. I was haunting him. I saw
him again on the next night. Once more he whispered
my name and disappeared. The following day, I didn't see
anything as I watched the beach in ocean. I had
spent three days with a boy on the beach and

(14:24):
three nights with an old man watching me from the water.
Just as the boy had come and gone. The old
ghosts did not show up a fourth time, but walking
on the coal sand. I heard something from the sea, bells, splashing,
and a cry for help. I hugged my coat closer

(14:45):
around me in panic, going into the water, midt dying, help,
is anyone there? My panic stepped into the tide just
like that, mh. The water went still, still as a
hidden lake. The ocean became a perfect mirror above a

(15:09):
single star shone brightly in the black sky. I could
see him then, floating lifeless, naked, like a newborn baby.
A single push of the tide brought him to the
shore at my feet, like a gift. I waded into
the water to pull him onto the sand. He was
coughing cold. He wore talisman around his neck and nothing else.

(15:34):
With effort, I got him to stand and he stumbled
in confusion. I wrapped my coat around him. What are
you doing here? He has between breaths. Where's my family?
I have to get you inside. Let me help you.
Though he eyed me warily, he was weak, he did

(15:56):
not fight. I was strength. As we climbed the steps
to the house. Tell me your name, I said I
he paused, my name is. I put him in front

(16:21):
of the fire and brought tea with whiskey. This is
my family's house. He was talking to himself, not me.
He was trying to remember something. For the first time,
I felt like I didn't belong at this place. The
house that once had been mine became his. I turned

(16:43):
to look for clothes in my room when I heard
his voice behind me. You sleep in the captain's room.
I had not considered sleeping in any other. It felt
like mine. I rummaged through drawers until I found draw
string pants in a long leave shirt. Everything perfumed with cedar.

(17:03):
He accepted the clothes, the whiskey, the tea. We sat
in silence until he took a breath that sounded human.
Still he didn't know his name. He stared at a
portrait of the old captain over the fireplace. They looked
like echoes of each other. The necklace he wore made
a jingling sound. I don't have a way to get

(17:25):
you help. Into the road clears, but in the morning
I can walk down the beach to the other house
and see if they can get you help. I said,
what house. I pointed in the direction where the boy
would greet me. There are no other houses on this point.
That way is the sea cliff. He closed his eyes

(17:47):
and took a shuttered breath. Oh God, my head hurts.
I'm so tired. I asked him not to sleep because
he might have a concussion. He agreed to but stay awake,
so I spoke to him. I told him the history
of the Dalton family and how the old sea captain

(18:07):
built this place. I told him of my long drive
to find the house, and how I busied myself for
the first seven days. Nothing seemed to jog his memory.
I did not mention the boy or the old man.
I don't know why. I offered him the captain's room,
but he didn't want it. He found a bedroom down

(18:28):
the hall. In the morning. I finally let him rest
before he closed his eyes. I never asked your name,
he said. I didn't want to give my name. It
seems silly like my name might mean something to him, Augustine.

(18:49):
He stared at me for a long time. When he
closed his eyes, he whispered, Augustine, Augustine. I shivered, m h.
When he woke, he didn't talk much, but he asked
why I was alone. Loneliness seemed unnatural to him. Eventually

(19:14):
I told him that I needed quiet. I told him
I needed time to take care of myself. I admitted
the truth that many people avoided Christmas. The holidays had
always made me sad. He was next to me on
the sofa. When he reached out to hold my hand.
I saw the lights from the tree reflected in his
dark eyes. I'm glad you're here, Augustine. I wished I

(19:40):
knew his name. He pulled me close and I rested
my head on his shoulder. Over the next several days,
he gave me space to take walks and read in
front of the fire. I believe he was embarrassed to
interrupt my solitude. We circled away from each other. I
would feed the ire in the hearth. He would make dinner.

(20:03):
The first time it surprised me, but then we got
into the easy habit of circling near each other in
the kitchen at night, he would cook, I would clean.
We both could play the piano enough to get a
laugh or smile out of the other. He could not
remember his name, but he said mine often. I tried

(20:24):
to figure out who the man was. We looked through photos.
He wasn't in them, but he resembled every face we saw. Still,
we fell into a comfortable routine. He cooked with more
passion and speed than I could. The fires he built
burned brighter. He smelled like cedar, and see and miracles.

(20:48):
He loved Christmas and knew this house. Yet he'd never
seen the ghost of a boy or an old man,
just me. I was the one haunting him. On Christmas Eve,
I kissed him, his tongue hot and sweet like apple cider.

(21:08):
On Christmas morning he undressed me. My skin was cold
until he touched me. The talisman around his neck meat
a sound that reminded me of a boy's laughter and
an old man on the sea. He didn't know where
the necklace came from, only that it had always been
with him. He kissed me slowly, and we fell asleep.

(21:35):
In the morning, the road was cleared of snow. He
was gone, but I wasn't alone. He'd left behind the laughter,
longing and love. The necklace was on me as though
it had always been there. You gave him peace, how lovely?

(22:06):
I do hope so he certainly brought me peace and
the rest of your life. M hm. It was remarkable. Mh.
But now now I would like to rest well. That
just happens to be the house speciality. I thought it

(22:32):
may be Here is a key, Augustine. Up the stairs,
seventh store on the left. You'll find what you've come for.
Along went his nap and you. I sent some tremor

(22:52):
beneath the surface. I hope you find rest as well well.
Off to bed with me, good night. What did she
mean a tremor? I surely do not know, And yet yet,

(23:19):
and yet I feel as though you are close to
finding out, my dear. Let's have another cup of wine.
The night isn't getting any younger. Twelve Ghosts starring Malcolm

(23:49):
McDowell as the Innkeeper and Gina Rikiki as Annabelle. Episode seven,
The Drowning Man written by Nikki Salcedo with additional writing
by Nicholas to Ski, editing by Chris Childs and Stephen Perez,
featuring April Parker Jones as Augustine. Directed by Nicholas Takowski.
Original score and sound design by Chris Child's. Executive producers

(24:13):
Aaron Mankey, Matt Frederick, Alexander Williams and Nicholas Takowski. Supervising
producer Josh Staine, Producers Chris Child's and Stephen Perez. Casting
by Sunday Bowling, C s A and Meg Mormon c
s A production coordinator Wayna Calderon, recorded at Lantern Audio
in Atlanta, Georgia, engineered by Chris Gardner, Aeros Sound and

(24:37):
Recording in Ojai, California, engineered by Ken Arros. Twelve Ghosts
was created by Nicholas Takowski. Then is a production of
i Heeart 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 heart
Radio by visiting the i heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,

(24:57):
or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. O