S2/E3 | The Town Square

A cruel founding father and an electric meeting with the mayor.

Starring Kathy Najimy, Bethany Anne Lind, and Brian Troxell. Written by Miranda Hawkins with additional material by Nicholas Tecosky.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
M thirteen days of Halloween is from grim and mild
lumhouse and I heeart three D audio headphones recommended. Listener
discretion advised. Allow me to be the first one to

(00:47):
welcome you to die a brook. Mind your step. These
cobblestones have not been particularly well maintained. Plenty of tiny pitfalls.
That not a metaphor. Why are people staring? Honestly, we
don't get a lot of fresh faces here in town,

(01:10):
and when we do they don't tend to stick around
for very long. It's been said that our neighbors aren't
particularly friendly, but I think they just prefer to mind
their own business. Don't you worry, they're perfectly harmless for
the most part. Just don't wander off on your own. Why?

(01:34):
There are many tiny pitfalls, and that is a metaphor.
Who is this a statue of? That is Rupert Inverness,
the founder of Dire Brooks. He's sneering. Yes, Legend has
it that he was a cruel man. I suppose you

(01:56):
had to be to survive here. We were pilgrims, you see,
fleeing religious persecution and trusting ourselves to the strong arms
of the father in the sea. He carried US across
the dangerous waters of the North Atlantic and we praised
him for it. But he plopped us down here on
these rocky, unwelcoming shores, in a land where we did

(02:20):
not belong and which continuously tried to spit us out
rocky soil, dense forests, long cutting winters. Only by paying
homage to the father in the sea did we survive.
He is a shrewd bargainer, but always keeps his side

(02:40):
of the deal so long as you keep yours. And
so the ocean fed us when the land refused, and
so we built. Inverness was the most faithful among us
and the most exacting when it came to keeping our
covenant with the Father. The first permanent structure built here

(03:01):
was our church. As a matter of fact, in sixteen
thirty over the course of many, many months, the people
slept there while the rest of the permanent structures were built,
so that inverness to keep a close watch over them.
He dictated when they prayed and how, when they slept,

(03:21):
what they ate. He did not suffer apostates. What would
happened to them if you spoke against the father, the
church or inverness, if you transgressed. If you did not pray,
there would be a trial with inverness as the sole judge.

(03:42):
In all of our trials held, not one parishioner was
found innocent. Why didn't the town turn against him? What
could they do? He had the blessings of the father
in the sea. He had brought them across the ocean,
kept them fed and alive. There was a glow about him.

(04:04):
And what happened to those who were found guilty? They
were separated from the father in the sea. How we
bury are dead here? Their bones dissolve into the earth
and the water eventually carries them to the ocean. Everything
returns to the sea. Those found guilty of heresy, however,

(04:29):
would be burned alive on the PYRE, their ashes mixed
into the mortar that built the walls of this town.
So as long as these walls stand, they will never
return to the father. My God. Yes, yes, some who
live in work have claimed to hear them occasionally moaning

(04:50):
to be released. But speaking of invanessas well. Hello, Mr
Mayor Ah mother, what a pleasant surprise to see you
out and about. And who's this, my guest? Well, hello there,
I see you're enjoying a nice stroll around our dear town.

(05:11):
I hope you find it dear, liking staying out of trouble.
I hope these are my favorite kinds of mornings, when
the world is only beginning to stir and the streets
are empty except for a passer by or two. I'd
be careful if I were you walking around by yourself.

(05:33):
That's when the how shall I say it, when the
more wayward souls tend to go missing. One day, a
face that is all too familiar is simply gone, like
they were never here at all. I was seven the
first time someone close to me disappeared, the childhood friend.

(05:59):
We would often run around in my backyard that overlooked
the sea, playing tag, digging for insects. Sometimes we would
race to see who could climb to the top of
this large tree the fastest. He normally won, but a
few times he didn't. He would pinch me. My father

(06:20):
was never too keen on him, but I didn't think
twice about it. To me, we were just children. Then
one day he was gone. At first I thought maybe
he had fallen into the sea, but nobody ever washed
ashore and, even more oddly, no one in the town

(06:42):
seemed to want to search. It was as if he
was never even there to begin with. As the years
went on, I noticed more and more townspeople went missing.
The high school quarterback, the town florist, an Oyster Mern.
Never more than a few people a year, but common enough.

(07:06):
It was never a major search for any of them, though.
It seemed the authorities weren't alerted, at least none that
seemed too concerned. The only real indication that they've ever
been here at all were the posters with pictures of
their lost faces, slowly aging and weathering. Pretty soon even

(07:30):
those would be forgotten debris the wind would occasionally blow
across your path and into the gutter. If anyone had
tears to cry, it was done behind closed doors. I
asked my father once about my favorite postman, who seemed

(07:51):
to be replaced overnight. All he said was he's contributing
to the town. I wouldn't learn what he meant until
a few years later. I had a brother once, you know, Anthony,
a couple of years older than me. He was the

(08:13):
one expected to keep up the family tradition. You see,
for as long as I can remember, the men in
my family have run this town. The mayorship passed down
from my great grandfather to my grandfather to my father,
all the way back. My brother was supposed to inherit

(08:34):
the authority, but our father was not an unkind man,
but he was strict on us, hard he expected us
to stay in line. My brother was older than me,
so you think he would have led by example. But no,

(08:58):
as Anthony got older he began to rebel. At first
it was typical teenage behavior, staying out all night, skipping classes,
but then he began to not attend town meetings and
went on wild tangents to anyone who would listen about

(09:19):
how sick the town was. It made people uncomfortable. My
father tried to keep my brother in line, but it
was to no avail, and father wouldn't have that. What
kind of message would it send if his own son

(09:42):
wasn't following the rules? One Night I was awoken by
a crash. My father and brother were screaming at each other.
I remember sneaking downstairs, but as I got closer to
the bottom, one of the steps groaned. My father turned

(10:02):
to see me. I was beckoned down. My father instructed
US put on your jackets, we're going for a drive.
As we were leaving, my father grabbed his cane, black
marble capped with a silver tip and silver handle. This

(10:25):
same cane I hold now in my hand. At the
time he never left the house without it. We came
here to this very spot, in front of this statue
of Rupert Inverness. It was so peaceful. The town was

(10:48):
still deep asleep in the early hours of the morning,
and it was here, under the oddly glowing street lamps,
that I learned our family secret. It before that night,
my father had been overly protective of his cane. No

(11:08):
one was allowed to touch it. It's always windy here,
you get used to it living by the sea, but
that night was still and calm. Not a leaf skittered
across the cobblestones. It was as if the moon itself

(11:29):
watched in silence. After we got out of the car,
my father handed me the cane and told me to
click a button at the top twice. I remember looking
up and locking eyes with Anthony, both of us paralyzed
for a brief moment. Then he blinked and the hesitation

(11:52):
was replaced by fear. He screamed and began to run
towards me, but it was too late. I watched as
his body dropped to the ground two FT from me, lifeless,
his jaw slack, Eyes Open and horror. My father made

(12:14):
me watch as the body slowly turned into ash and
disappeared without a soul. There was nothing left to hold
it together. I stood there motionless, unsure myself what had
just happened. As my father told me to click the
button once more, I felt cold wet drops on my

(12:36):
hand as I did as he instructed. With a strange hum,
the street lamps got brighter. It was only then I
noticed my face was wet with tears. You See, what
my brother and father had been arguing about was from

(12:59):
my rather to take over the family business, but he
had refused. We must all pull our weight, and Anthony
wasn't willing to. So my father made sure he would
pull his weight in another way. After all, we all
have to pitch in to keep this town prosperous. My

(13:22):
ancestors knew this, you see. As time went on, people
began to slip from the old ways, choosing to make
more unsavory choices. My family, who stuck close to great
grandfather rupert inverness's ways, remained forever true at Inverness's grave,

(13:45):
we made a blood pact that we would forever lead
this town, keeping our people in line. It is in
shadow that people are led astray. It is our job
to make sure that they forever see the light. That's
why I keep them in check. I do my part

(14:10):
by cutting off the miscreants. Speaking of you just missed
a miscreant yourself. Pity really. As the years have gone on,
I've found delights in the entire process. While unfortunate souls
not following the rules can be found anywhere, I must

(14:32):
always come back here, to the statue of Rupert Inverness
to deliver them. Even to this day, he is our conduit.
That's better, isn't it? A little light to brighten this
foggy morning? Enjoy your stay and be sure not to

(14:54):
break any rules. Yes, or at least be careful. I
don't catch you, or you won't be going anywhere for
a long, long time. Will I be seeing you with
the gathering this evening? I will be there and you're guess. Well,
that is most likely, as we do not know where

(15:17):
she is from or who is missing her. AH, lovely well,
may the father bless you. Everything returns to him. It
surely does. Ladies. Yes, you do best to avoid him

(15:39):
while you're here. Like all of his ancestors, his zeal
can be occasionally deadly. You sure right. Did he frighten
you that much? No, well, yes, but also no. I'm
still cold. Go Dear. Why don't we stop by the

(16:00):
dinner to get you a coffee? They carry a special blend.
Thank you. That would be nice. This way, I remember,
watch your step. A trip on this ground could be perilous. Yeah, tomorrow,

(16:31):
on thirteen days of Halloween, the diner, of course. I
tried to leave. I tried walking, driving, hitchhiking. Nothing worked.
I'd get close to the town limits in blackout, poof
then I'd wake up in another area of direbrook. Some
hearts are worth in others, and after a while I

(16:55):
quit trying. This place. It's not nor moll there are
lots of telephone lines, but they don't work. As you've noticed,
there's no cellphone reception either and no Internet. Mail never
leaves the post office and nothing comes in. I've given
notes to people passing through and the hopes I'll be rescued,

(17:18):
but nothing comes of it. I think people forget the
moment they leave town. Thirteen days of Halloween the Town Square,
starring Kathy to Jimmy, Bethany and Lynne and Brian truxall

(17:39):
written by Miranda Hawkins, with additional material by Nicholas Dakowski.
Sound Design and mixing by Miranda Hawkins, engineering by violent Ferton,
DUBWAY STUDIOS NEW YORK. Casting by Jessica Losa. Created by
Matt Frederick and Alex Williams, with executive producer Aaron mackey.
A production of I heart radio, Hman mild and Blumhouse

(18:01):
Television