June 9, 2020 • 29 mins
Amends are made.
Light House is a production of iHeartRadio and Bamfer Productions.
Chapter 8 features the voice of Aly Trasher
It was written and directed by Jeff Heimbuch, audio engineered and scored by Kori Celeste, assistant engineered by Alex Gona, and executive produced by Holly Frey
Questions? Comments? Email us at themaninthehatiswatching@gmail.com
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
The man in the Hat had a name. It took
some time, but after I witnessed the vision of his death,
I returned home and began to research who he was.
Spurred by his tragic demise, I wanted to get to
the bottom of why he was there, and perhaps see
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if there was anything I could do to help him.
He may have haunted my childhood, but if I could
ease his suffering in any way and release the darkness's
hold on him, perhaps I could do the same for Leny.
I wasn't there for her as I should have been
in life, but perhaps in death I could change that.
Record Keeping wasn't a forte in the early days of
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the Lighthouse, apparently, but with some diligent work and persistence
with bureaucracy at town Hall, I was able to find him.
The man in the hat had a name, and his
name was Alexander Blythe Alexander worked for my father his
family before my father was born. When the Hollises built
Lighthouse on the bluff, taking over the land that the
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lighthousekeeper lived on, They also built a small apartment within
the lighthouse itself. While the lighthouse was still in operation,
the keeper also acted as the groundsman for the property.
Alexander Blythe was one such groundsman. He worked hard for
the Hollis family for a little over a year, his
family living in the modest apartment in the lighthouse. From
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what I could find, he was a good, honest worker
who loved his job and his family. The Hollises seemed
to like him as well. According to the newspaper reports
I found, he unexpectedly sent his young daughter away to
visit his brother one summer's day. Later, on that night,
he murdered his wife and then took his own life.
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I thought back to the photo of him Leani and
I found all those years ago within the dark room.
It was dated nineteen twenty nine, the same year he
hung himself inside the lighthouse. Who knew how long he
had known about the darkness within the house before he
had no choice but to do what he did when
that photo was taken. Was his mind already made up?
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After I saw the man in the hats death, I
did not see him again outside of lighthouse for some time,
perhaps because I had learned his fate, or because I
knew of his history. Now he stayed away and gave
me a bit of peace for once. But when he
did appear again, it was to take everything from me.
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But that came later. Before that came something else. Lighthouse,
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Chapter eight, two thousand and one. I left Lighthouse on
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that day after my sister's suicide and seeing the death
of the man in the Hat, knowing full well that
I would have to return. My mother needed help. Confined
to a wheelchair and addicted to the bottle, she was
unable to do much for herself. Lighthouse was big, too
big for two people when my sister was still alive,
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and now that she was gone, its vastness was going
to be lonely for my mother. We hadn't spoken much
since she said such hurtful things to me, but I
still wanted to help as best I could. Using what
little extra money I had, I hired an aid for her.
At first, she visited my mother only twice a week,
taking care of essentials and whatever odds and ends needed
(04:01):
to be done around the house. But as the years
were on and my mother became less and less capable,
the aid became a full time companion for her. When
the sensury turned into the year two thousand, my mother
became ill. We thought it was a simple cold at
first when the aid called me during a weekly check in,
but as the weeks were on and she didn't get
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any better, it turned into something much more serious. Her
years of drinking and neglecting her own health had taken
its toll on her. My mother was dying. Her kidneys
were failing, and because of the condition of her body
and her age, replacement was not an option. The full
time aid turned into a living nurse as she required
constant care. I wanted to visit, but any time the
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subject was brought up, my mother refused me. The nurse
thought it was just the pain and agony of her
predicament and treatments, but I knew that wasn't the case.
My mother just did not want to see me. Of course,
I was sad and heartbroken about did the spider strained relationship.
She was still my mother and I loved her, But
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deep inside, a part of me was thankful, thankful that
I didn't have to return to Lighthouse to face its ghosts,
and thankful that once she was gone, I would have
nothing tying me there and truly wouldn't have to go
back ever again. I hated myself for thinking that. In
the early months of two thousand one, my mother took
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a turn for the worse. She was put on hospice care,
and though she remained steadfast on not wanting me there,
I had to see her say goodbye. I never got
a chance to do so for Leny, and I regretted
that every day I wouldn't make the same steak for
my mother. Sarah, the living nurse, met me outside when
I arrived, a welcome side compared to what usually greeted me.
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After only speaking with her over the phone for a
few months, it was nice to finally meet her in person.
Are you hungry, she asked, making her way toward the kitchen.
I was just about to make some lunch, and I'd
be happy to make some for you, I told her.
I was starved and thankful for the invitation. As it
turned out, Sarah made a delicious tomato soup complimented by
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grilled cheese sandwiches. My mother couldn't handle solids anymore, she explained,
so it was mostly soup to keep up her strength,
while the sandwiches were solely for us. We ate mostly
in silence for a bit until Sarah got a strange
look on her face. Can I ask you something? She said,
looking unsure of herself. Of course, I told her as
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I put my sandwich down, sensing what she was about
to say. This is going to sound silly. Have you
ever seen anything in this house? I mean, I was
unsure of how much or little to tell her. With
my mother on her final days, maybe even hours, I
didn't want to send this poor girl screaming from the house.
Let's just say that Lighthouse has seen its share of
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inhabitants over the years, some of which didn't leave. She's
mile nodded and laughed a little. Again. I've been around
death long enough not to be surprised by much, she said,
but sometimes this house surprises me. I like your mom,
but I'll be glad to be gone. Nothing more needed
to be said, an unspoken agreement placed between us. I
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hoped for her sake that Lighthouse did not take a
hold of her like it did most others, and that
she could leave the place soon. Sarah cleaned up her
dirty plates and went to go check on my mother.
I needed to brace myself for seeing her, so I
went outside for a quick walk around the grounds, Needing
a bit of fresh air. It was nice out there,
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different than the stuffy feeling within the walls of the house.
I walked toward the bluff itself, the ocean looking strikingly
gorgeous that day. With the lighthouse off to my right,
the view looked like a postcard. I looked up towards
the beacon, hoping I would not see it light up
during my stay, anxious to stay far far away at
this time. Around on the opposite end of the bluff.
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Standing on the other side of the lighthouse was the
apparition of the sailor I sometimes saw wandering the grounds.
I only ever had one bad encounter with him, when
I got too close to him as a child, and
he bellowed like a roaring ocean. He mostly kept to himself,
staring off to sea, much like he was doing now.
The sunlight shone through him, giving off the illusion that
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he was glowing. He looked almost peaceful, as if an
eternity spent tied here was of no bother to him.
He turned to look toward me, and the serenity was
ruined by the appearance of the gaping hole where his
right eye used to be. Though uncommon on the east coast.
I silently prayed for an earthquake to loosen the ground
around the bluff, sending both the lighthouse and him sprawling
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into the ocean, never to be seen again. I was
brought out of my day dream by Sarah, hearing a
call from me back from the house. My mother was
likely awake waiting for me. Back inside, Sarah was taking
care of some laundry and directed me toward my mother's room.
As I ascended to the second story, it dawned on
me that I hadn't been in my parents room for
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a long long time, since I was a little girl.
Heading there made me feel like I was getting in
trouble in a way I was. My mother, even on
her deathbed, was sure to tell me how much she
didn't care to see me. I reached the top and
turned the corner to the long hallway where her room
was located. Even outside the doorway, I could hear the
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various apparatuses inside keeping her alive. When I turned the
knob and opened the door, I was taken back by
just how many machines were in there and how little
the woman in the bed resembled my mother. Dominated on
each side by large medical equipment. My mother looked small
and fragile, tucked into the bed. Her skin was sickly yellow,
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and her facial features looked sunken. Her eyes were open,
looking in my direction, but I was unsure if she
actually saw me. I carefully made my way to her bedside,
trying not to trip over any of the assorted wires
on the floor. Pulling over a chair to sit next
to her, I faltered before reaching out to grab her hand.
It was like holding onto a skeleton, nothing left but
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skin and bone. She turned to look at me, and
for the first time I entered the room, it seemed
like she truly saw me. Her grip tightened in my
hand and tears welled up in her eyes, catching me
by surprise. It was a very rare show of affection.
Tera she managed to say, her voice a raspy whisper
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of what it once was. I'm so glad you came.
The tears came from me as years of pent up
emotion released in that instant. Hi, Mum, I said, holding
her hand tighter. I'm so happy to see you. She
smiled at me, before the happiness in her eyes became sad.
There was already a gauntlet of emotions I was running
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through at the moment, all of which were unexpected, so
I wasn't sure what had happened. Instead of asking, I
leaned in to hug her, the type of embrace I
had not enjoyed with my mother for many years. She
returned it as best she could, and she cried in
my ear. I'm so sorry, she whispered, holding me tight,
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so very sorry. Confused, I moved back to look at
her and asked her what she meant for everything. She replied,
for pushing you away, for treating you so poorly. It's okay,
I told her, completely taken by surprise by this admission.
I wasn't the best daughter to you. It wasn't that,
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she assured me, not at all. I was trying to
protect you. I wasn't sure what she meant by that,
and it rendered me speechless for a few moments. Protect me,
I asked, from what the house from the darkness that
lives here, Because it's coming for me next. Lighthouse will
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return after these messages, and now back to Lighthouse. Not once,
in all my years living at Lighthouse or even after,
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did my mother ever acknowledge the darkness that called it home.
Not once did she ever let on that she believed
my sister or my cries for help or safety from
the man in the hat, or the maid, or even
the body hanging in the tree. I don't know when
that changed or how long she even was aware of
the things going on here, but it was surprising to
hear her admit it. But when she was laying on
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her deathbed, my mother told me things she had wanted
to for years but never had the courage to. Despite
her flaws and her own shortcomings, my mother really was
trying to save me. She didn't let on as to
when she first noticed the darkness and what it was doing,
but she was aware. For her, it wasn't the man
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in the hat that haunted her, but rather the servant
that I often saw in the spare bedrooms upstairs, and
the maid from the kitchen. They would appear to her
when she was alone and most vulnerable. She tried to
ignore the most times, avoiding looking in the direction, but
sometimes she couldn't help herself. They both taunted her in
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their own unique ways. She told me she would sometimes
check on us at night while we were asleep in
our beds, and one of the two specters would often
be by our side, leering at us like a predator
eyeing its prey. Other times they would simply stand in
the darkness, watching her with wide eyes. She admitted that
the maid was the worst, as the blood streaming from
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her eyes gave off a ghastly appearance that was too
much to handle. She even heard whispers in the dark
of the night, especially when lying in her own bed
sleeping next to our father mother. She never knew for
sure if he was talking back to them, but it
terrified her all the same. At first, she believed it
was manageable. She loved her family and her husband, and
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she thought she could keep it all at bay because
of our strong family bond. The first time my father
hit her was when she realized how wrong she was.
By that point, it was too late. They had spent
most of the inheritance money on paying off debts and
were stuck with nowhere else to go. She did her
best to keep my father's ire off of us and
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focused on her, and for the most part, she did
a good job. But knowing that she spent years directing
his rage in her own direction so my sister and
I would be safe from it was almost too much.
To bear. She told me that she kept that up
for as long as she could, but as it began
to take its toll on her, she turned to drinking.
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She had watched it consume my father, much like the
darkness had, but she couldn't help herself. It helped dull
the pain and take away her bad thoughts. She had
no idea how caught up in it she became. The
night my father went mad and Lini had to kill
him was the night my mother knew we were cursed,
cursed with the darkness and the burden of Lighthouse. She
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was stubborn. Though Lighthouse was her home, it was supposed
to be her new beginning, our new beginning. She would
stay and defend it as long as she could, keeping
the darkness at bay for as long as possible. And
she knew that Lini was trapped. To her allegiance to
Abigail and the fact that she had killed our father.
Told my mother that a part of the darkness had
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already worked its way inside of her. I was different.
She saw that I had fought back against the darkness,
unconsciously or not. Ever since we moved into that house,
I still had light in my soul and my mother
recognized that she wanted to get me away from the house,
needed me to be safe, because in her eyes, I
was the only one of us that still had a
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chance of surviving the darkness. She did the one thing
that she felt she had to do in order to
save me. She pushed me away. Looking back on everything,
it made perfect sense. Her constant coldness towards me, or
berating of my actions when we did speak, did create
a distance between us, effectively breaking down our relationship. I
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had admitted as much already that the distance between my
mother and I had been a reason I kept away
from Lighthouse all those years, but learning that it was
intentional on her part, that it was not out of
hate but out of love, broke my heart. I spent
years mad at her for treating me that way. If
we had only talked sooner, tried to bridge that gap
between us, than maybe, just maybe I could have saved
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everyone a lot of heartbreak in the long run. Maybe
I could have saved my sister. Now I could have
even saved my mother. She told me not to think
of it that way, told me that the past was
the past, and while she did regret hurting me, she
didn't regret keeping me safe, and now, as she lay
dying in front of me, she wanted me to know
the truth before the end came. I wanted to take
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her from this place, take her somewhere else so she
didn't have to die in the place that had ruined
our family and consumed her soul, but she refused. She
was stubborn. She still saw Linie's ghost within the house,
and she didn't want to leave her alone. She also
had her own private battle with the darkness at the
heart of Lighthouse, one I had never known about, and
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she wanted to fight it until her dying breath, and
perhaps even in death, she could keep it at bay
for some one else. I loved my mother more in
that moment than I ever had before. It radiated off
of me, and I knew she could feel it. She
looked alive again, full of life and ready to face
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the world, but that soon more off and she grew
weak again. She kissed my hand and told me she
needed to rest. She was tired, but she asked me
to come back later. I didn't want to leave her side,
especially after everything she revealed. Sarah came into the room,
declaring that it was time for my mother's medication. She
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escorted me out so she could do her job, and
thus I was left alone in the hallways of lighthouse
yet again. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful.
Over dinner, Sarah continued to fill me in on my
mother's condition. I was polite, engaging in the small talk
to make conversation with the woman who had taken care
of my mother over the last few months, but I
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wasn't invested in what she had to say. I was
too busy thinking about my mother and her revelations. I
went to see her again that evening, but she was
still too weak to talk again. With nothing else to do,
I decided to turn in for the night. I felt
strange to be back in my old room yet again,
but thankfully I managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. I
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awoke in the middle of the night to a light
filling my room. I didn't have to open my eyes
to know what it was that sleep beacon of the
lighthouse shining bright once again. Last time I felt it
call out to me, but this time I felt like
something was wrong. An uneasy feeling sat on my chest
and it worried me. I sat up, looking around for
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any sign of trouble, but found nothing. My ears perked
up as I heard some sort of mournful cry. My
younger self would have just thrown the blanket over my head,
wishing the night away, But now, as a grown woman
who had seen and had enough of what the house
had to offer, I wasn't going to back down. I
got up from the bed, throwing on a pair of slippers,
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and opened my door. The hallway was dark and quiet,
the only light coming from the phantom lighthouse behind me.
There was nothing in sight here either, but I did
notice that the door to my mother's room was ajar.
I heard a gentle sob again and realized it was
coming from that direction. I sprinted down the hall toward
her room and threw open the door. My mother's room
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was dark, almost too dark. She laid still in her bed,
her eyes wide open, as if fixated on the ceiling.
Another cry emanated from her throat, and I thought she
might be dreaming. But as my eyes adjusted to the
blackness of the room, I could see that we were
not alone. It blended in at first, but now I
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could see the different shades of darkness hovering over my mother.
It was the shadowy thing. I watched as it bulged
from the wall behind her bed, stretching it to unheard
of proportions. As it disengaged itself from it, It made
a sickening sound as it did so, the wall snapping
back into place like an elastic band. It's nebulous shapes
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straddled her, dark extensions of itself acting as arms and legs,
holding her down. Her already fragile body couldn't do much
to struggle against it. It leaned in close the place
where its mouth should have been, trying to draw in
her final breaths. Her body seized beneath it. I ran
to her side and tried to push it off, anger
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rising inside me, but my hands went right through it.
It looked in my direction and one of its limbs
lashed out at me, striking me in the chest, knocking
me to the floor. I tried to regain my footing,
but it held me down. It turned back to my
mother and sucked in again, as if to take what
little life she had left in her Again, her body seized,
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convulsive under its spell. I struggled to get up, but
its strength was too much for me to fight against.
I tried and I tried, but I could do nothing
but watch, and that's exactly what it wanted me to do,
to watch as it took my mother from me, just
as it had taken the rest of my family. The
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shadowy thing was enjoying this. As she drifted away towards
her final sleep. My mother managed to look at me
and show one last feat of strength to say three
small words, I love you. This enraged the shadowy thing
as it went in again, covering her face completely, pulling
the last breath from her chest. Her body spasm for
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only a moment, her back arching upwards before dropping back
to the bed. She was gone. Sated and satisfied, the
shadow let go of her and turned back to me.
I still struggled beneath its limbs, the pressure pushing down
on me. There was no clear face to see within
its darkness, but there was an impression of something there,
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some sentience that knew exactly what it was doing. If
I didn't know any better, I would say it was
smiling at me with spring voices filled my ears, becoming
so loud that they were deafening within the small confines
of the room. The shadow thrived off of them, growing
larger by the second a creature of mighty proportions. It
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coiled more limbs around my body, squeezing the air from
my lungs, toying with me. The nebulous shape where its
face should have been continued to smile as it came
for me. Right before everything went black. Lighthouse were returned
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after a word from our sponsors, and now Lighthouse continues.
The next thing I remembered, it was the next morning,
and I was in a place I didn't expect. I
was in the lighthouse, not in the small apartment I
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had seen during my previous visit, but outside on the
balcony area that surrounded the window panes where the beacon sat.
I had no recollection of how I got there or
why I was even there, and that scared me. As
the sun rose over the ocean, I tried to piece
together what had happened the day before, my mother confiding
in me being awakened in the night by the light,
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and the shadowy thing taking the last of my mother's life.
My mother was dead, another victim of Lighthouse's darkness. I
stood my legs wobbily and leaned against the balcony's railing
as I looked out over the ocean. I remembered, this
is where my sister had died, where she had thrown
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herself to her death on the rocks below. A shudder
ran through me. Not wanting to think about that, I
turned to leave to find my way back down. When
I caught my reflection in the glass. I looked lost, broken, even,
but somehow younger. A strand of hair dangled in front
of my face, and I went to move it away,
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when I realized my reflection did not follow suit. Instead,
it just stood there, staring at me. It dawned on
me then that this was not my reflection. It was Lini.
Lini's ghost watched me from within the lighthouse, standing guard
next to the beacon. She watched me as I found
the doorway back inside and went to her. Lenie. I asked,
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hoping for some kind of response, Lenie, why am I here?
She smiled sadly at me, still clinging onto that teddy bear.
I didn't say a word. She merely continued to stare,
our eyes locked together. Eventually, I sat, unable to stand
any longer, but not wanting to leave her. She may
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have been gone, but at least right now, in some way,
we were able to enjoy each other's company, a bright
spot in a long line of terrible ones. I don't
know how long we stood like that, simply watching each other,
waiting for the other to move. The sun moved across
the sky, and when it sat overhead, Leonie began to
slowly fade. The fainter she grew, the more sad she became,
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as if there was something she wanted to do but
was unable to. Just before she faded from view completely,
she lifted her free hand and pointed toward a cabinet
beneath the beacon itself. It was latch closed, but as
she faded away, I opened it. Inside was the old
real to real player we had found in the dark
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room when we were younger. Sitting on top of it
was a book of matches, a single match taken from inside.
But of more interest was the circular object wrapped in
a cloth sitting next to it. I removed it from
its packaging and found it to be a metal canister,
when containing a recording written in Leni's handwriting on a
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piece of tape was a single word goodbye. I left
the lighthouse, real to reel and canister in hand, slowly
making my way through the living quarters, down the winding staircase,
and into the clearing. I went back to the house
to find Sarah leaning over my mother, tears in her eyes.
She apologized for my loss and told me if I wanted,
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she would begin to make arrangements for her instead. I
thanked her for all her hard work these past few months,
but that she needed to leave immediately. I didn't want
Lighthouse to take a hold of her too. She left,
and I sat with my mother's corpse, thinking back on
the previous evening. Lighthouse had been fed. It's hunger sated
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for now, but I knew it was only a matter
of time before it needed to claim another soul. But
this time things would be different. This time, the only
thing left for it was me. With my mother gone,
I was now the sole owner of Lighthouse. It's fate
was mine and mine alone to decide. A stronger woman
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would have had it torn down, leveling the land, making
sure nothing was built there ever again. But not me.
I prove vindictive. Over the years, Lighthouse had taken so
much from me, had ruined my family and our life.
It was time for me to pay that back in kind.
I was content to make it suffer, just as it
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had done to for so long. I was going to
walk out of Lighthouse later that day and leave it
to rot. No more would a living soul occupy its halls,
giving it a chance to prey on them. Instead, it
would sit empty and alone on the bluff, forgotten and suffering.
As long as I had life to live, I meant
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to leave Lighthouse alone to wither away and die. And
for almost twenty years, that is exactly what I did.
And then the Man in the Hat came back for me.
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Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Chapter eight featured the voice of Ali Trash, written and
directed by Jeff Heimbug Audio Engineering, an original musical score
by Corey Celeste. Production assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced
(29:09):
by Holly Fry. Questions comments, you can reach us at
The Man in the Hat is Watching at gmail dot com.
Thank you for listening.
Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
The man in the Hat had a name. It took
some time, but after I witnessed the vision of his death,
I returned home and began to research who he was.
Spurred by his tragic demise, I wanted to get to
the bottom of why he was there, and perhaps see
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if there was anything I could do to help him.
He may have haunted my childhood, but if I could
ease his suffering in any way and release the darkness's
hold on him, perhaps I could do the same for Leny.
I wasn't there for her as I should have been
in life, but perhaps in death I could change that.
Record Keeping wasn't a forte in the early days of
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the Lighthouse, apparently, but with some diligent work and persistence
with bureaucracy at town Hall, I was able to find him.
The man in the hat had a name, and his
name was Alexander Blythe Alexander worked for my father his
family before my father was born. When the Hollises built
Lighthouse on the bluff, taking over the land that the
(01:05):
lighthousekeeper lived on, They also built a small apartment within
the lighthouse itself. While the lighthouse was still in operation,
the keeper also acted as the groundsman for the property.
Alexander Blythe was one such groundsman. He worked hard for
the Hollis family for a little over a year, his
family living in the modest apartment in the lighthouse. From
(01:26):
what I could find, he was a good, honest worker
who loved his job and his family. The Hollises seemed
to like him as well. According to the newspaper reports
I found, he unexpectedly sent his young daughter away to
visit his brother one summer's day. Later, on that night,
he murdered his wife and then took his own life.
(01:47):
I thought back to the photo of him Leani and
I found all those years ago within the dark room.
It was dated nineteen twenty nine, the same year he
hung himself inside the lighthouse. Who knew how long he
had known about the darkness within the house before he
had no choice but to do what he did when
that photo was taken. Was his mind already made up?
(02:10):
After I saw the man in the hats death, I
did not see him again outside of lighthouse for some time,
perhaps because I had learned his fate, or because I
knew of his history. Now he stayed away and gave
me a bit of peace for once. But when he
did appear again, it was to take everything from me.
(02:30):
But that came later. Before that came something else. Lighthouse,
(02:55):
Chapter eight, two thousand and one. I left Lighthouse on
(03:18):
that day after my sister's suicide and seeing the death
of the man in the Hat, knowing full well that
I would have to return. My mother needed help. Confined
to a wheelchair and addicted to the bottle, she was
unable to do much for herself. Lighthouse was big, too
big for two people when my sister was still alive,
(03:38):
and now that she was gone, its vastness was going
to be lonely for my mother. We hadn't spoken much
since she said such hurtful things to me, but I
still wanted to help as best I could. Using what
little extra money I had, I hired an aid for her.
At first, she visited my mother only twice a week,
taking care of essentials and whatever odds and ends needed
(04:01):
to be done around the house. But as the years
were on and my mother became less and less capable,
the aid became a full time companion for her. When
the sensury turned into the year two thousand, my mother
became ill. We thought it was a simple cold at
first when the aid called me during a weekly check in,
but as the weeks were on and she didn't get
(04:21):
any better, it turned into something much more serious. Her
years of drinking and neglecting her own health had taken
its toll on her. My mother was dying. Her kidneys
were failing, and because of the condition of her body
and her age, replacement was not an option. The full
time aid turned into a living nurse as she required
constant care. I wanted to visit, but any time the
(04:45):
subject was brought up, my mother refused me. The nurse
thought it was just the pain and agony of her
predicament and treatments, but I knew that wasn't the case.
My mother just did not want to see me. Of course,
I was sad and heartbroken about did the spider strained relationship.
She was still my mother and I loved her, But
(05:05):
deep inside, a part of me was thankful, thankful that
I didn't have to return to Lighthouse to face its ghosts,
and thankful that once she was gone, I would have
nothing tying me there and truly wouldn't have to go
back ever again. I hated myself for thinking that. In
the early months of two thousand one, my mother took
(05:27):
a turn for the worse. She was put on hospice care,
and though she remained steadfast on not wanting me there,
I had to see her say goodbye. I never got
a chance to do so for Leny, and I regretted
that every day I wouldn't make the same steak for
my mother. Sarah, the living nurse, met me outside when
I arrived, a welcome side compared to what usually greeted me.
(05:49):
After only speaking with her over the phone for a
few months, it was nice to finally meet her in person.
Are you hungry, she asked, making her way toward the kitchen.
I was just about to make some lunch, and I'd
be happy to make some for you, I told her.
I was starved and thankful for the invitation. As it
turned out, Sarah made a delicious tomato soup complimented by
(06:11):
grilled cheese sandwiches. My mother couldn't handle solids anymore, she explained,
so it was mostly soup to keep up her strength,
while the sandwiches were solely for us. We ate mostly
in silence for a bit until Sarah got a strange
look on her face. Can I ask you something? She said,
looking unsure of herself. Of course, I told her as
(06:33):
I put my sandwich down, sensing what she was about
to say. This is going to sound silly. Have you
ever seen anything in this house? I mean, I was
unsure of how much or little to tell her. With
my mother on her final days, maybe even hours, I
didn't want to send this poor girl screaming from the house.
Let's just say that Lighthouse has seen its share of
(06:55):
inhabitants over the years, some of which didn't leave. She's
mile nodded and laughed a little. Again. I've been around
death long enough not to be surprised by much, she said,
but sometimes this house surprises me. I like your mom,
but I'll be glad to be gone. Nothing more needed
to be said, an unspoken agreement placed between us. I
(07:18):
hoped for her sake that Lighthouse did not take a
hold of her like it did most others, and that
she could leave the place soon. Sarah cleaned up her
dirty plates and went to go check on my mother.
I needed to brace myself for seeing her, so I
went outside for a quick walk around the grounds, Needing
a bit of fresh air. It was nice out there,
(07:38):
different than the stuffy feeling within the walls of the house.
I walked toward the bluff itself, the ocean looking strikingly
gorgeous that day. With the lighthouse off to my right,
the view looked like a postcard. I looked up towards
the beacon, hoping I would not see it light up
during my stay, anxious to stay far far away at
this time. Around on the opposite end of the bluff.
(08:00):
Standing on the other side of the lighthouse was the
apparition of the sailor I sometimes saw wandering the grounds.
I only ever had one bad encounter with him, when
I got too close to him as a child, and
he bellowed like a roaring ocean. He mostly kept to himself,
staring off to sea, much like he was doing now.
The sunlight shone through him, giving off the illusion that
(08:21):
he was glowing. He looked almost peaceful, as if an
eternity spent tied here was of no bother to him.
He turned to look toward me, and the serenity was
ruined by the appearance of the gaping hole where his
right eye used to be. Though uncommon on the east coast.
I silently prayed for an earthquake to loosen the ground
around the bluff, sending both the lighthouse and him sprawling
(08:44):
into the ocean, never to be seen again. I was
brought out of my day dream by Sarah, hearing a
call from me back from the house. My mother was
likely awake waiting for me. Back inside, Sarah was taking
care of some laundry and directed me toward my mother's room.
As I ascended to the second story, it dawned on
me that I hadn't been in my parents room for
(09:05):
a long long time, since I was a little girl.
Heading there made me feel like I was getting in
trouble in a way I was. My mother, even on
her deathbed, was sure to tell me how much she
didn't care to see me. I reached the top and
turned the corner to the long hallway where her room
was located. Even outside the doorway, I could hear the
(09:27):
various apparatuses inside keeping her alive. When I turned the
knob and opened the door, I was taken back by
just how many machines were in there and how little
the woman in the bed resembled my mother. Dominated on
each side by large medical equipment. My mother looked small
and fragile, tucked into the bed. Her skin was sickly yellow,
(09:48):
and her facial features looked sunken. Her eyes were open,
looking in my direction, but I was unsure if she
actually saw me. I carefully made my way to her bedside,
trying not to trip over any of the assorted wires
on the floor. Pulling over a chair to sit next
to her, I faltered before reaching out to grab her hand.
It was like holding onto a skeleton, nothing left but
(10:11):
skin and bone. She turned to look at me, and
for the first time I entered the room, it seemed
like she truly saw me. Her grip tightened in my
hand and tears welled up in her eyes, catching me
by surprise. It was a very rare show of affection.
Tera she managed to say, her voice a raspy whisper
(10:33):
of what it once was. I'm so glad you came.
The tears came from me as years of pent up
emotion released in that instant. Hi, Mum, I said, holding
her hand tighter. I'm so happy to see you. She
smiled at me, before the happiness in her eyes became sad.
There was already a gauntlet of emotions I was running
(10:55):
through at the moment, all of which were unexpected, so
I wasn't sure what had happened. Instead of asking, I
leaned in to hug her, the type of embrace I
had not enjoyed with my mother for many years. She
returned it as best she could, and she cried in
my ear. I'm so sorry, she whispered, holding me tight,
(11:15):
so very sorry. Confused, I moved back to look at
her and asked her what she meant for everything. She replied,
for pushing you away, for treating you so poorly. It's okay,
I told her, completely taken by surprise by this admission.
I wasn't the best daughter to you. It wasn't that,
(11:37):
she assured me, not at all. I was trying to
protect you. I wasn't sure what she meant by that,
and it rendered me speechless for a few moments. Protect me,
I asked, from what the house from the darkness that
lives here, Because it's coming for me next. Lighthouse will
(12:05):
return after these messages, and now back to Lighthouse. Not once,
in all my years living at Lighthouse or even after,
(12:25):
did my mother ever acknowledge the darkness that called it home.
Not once did she ever let on that she believed
my sister or my cries for help or safety from
the man in the hat, or the maid, or even
the body hanging in the tree. I don't know when
that changed or how long she even was aware of
the things going on here, but it was surprising to
hear her admit it. But when she was laying on
(12:48):
her deathbed, my mother told me things she had wanted
to for years but never had the courage to. Despite
her flaws and her own shortcomings, my mother really was
trying to save me. She didn't let on as to
when she first noticed the darkness and what it was doing,
but she was aware. For her, it wasn't the man
(13:08):
in the hat that haunted her, but rather the servant
that I often saw in the spare bedrooms upstairs, and
the maid from the kitchen. They would appear to her
when she was alone and most vulnerable. She tried to
ignore the most times, avoiding looking in the direction, but
sometimes she couldn't help herself. They both taunted her in
(13:29):
their own unique ways. She told me she would sometimes
check on us at night while we were asleep in
our beds, and one of the two specters would often
be by our side, leering at us like a predator
eyeing its prey. Other times they would simply stand in
the darkness, watching her with wide eyes. She admitted that
the maid was the worst, as the blood streaming from
(13:50):
her eyes gave off a ghastly appearance that was too
much to handle. She even heard whispers in the dark
of the night, especially when lying in her own bed
sleeping next to our father mother. She never knew for
sure if he was talking back to them, but it
terrified her all the same. At first, she believed it
was manageable. She loved her family and her husband, and
(14:10):
she thought she could keep it all at bay because
of our strong family bond. The first time my father
hit her was when she realized how wrong she was.
By that point, it was too late. They had spent
most of the inheritance money on paying off debts and
were stuck with nowhere else to go. She did her
best to keep my father's ire off of us and
(14:31):
focused on her, and for the most part, she did
a good job. But knowing that she spent years directing
his rage in her own direction so my sister and
I would be safe from it was almost too much.
To bear. She told me that she kept that up
for as long as she could, but as it began
to take its toll on her, she turned to drinking.
(14:52):
She had watched it consume my father, much like the
darkness had, but she couldn't help herself. It helped dull
the pain and take away her bad thoughts. She had
no idea how caught up in it she became. The
night my father went mad and Lini had to kill
him was the night my mother knew we were cursed,
cursed with the darkness and the burden of Lighthouse. She
(15:16):
was stubborn. Though Lighthouse was her home, it was supposed
to be her new beginning, our new beginning. She would
stay and defend it as long as she could, keeping
the darkness at bay for as long as possible. And
she knew that Lini was trapped. To her allegiance to
Abigail and the fact that she had killed our father.
Told my mother that a part of the darkness had
(15:37):
already worked its way inside of her. I was different.
She saw that I had fought back against the darkness,
unconsciously or not. Ever since we moved into that house,
I still had light in my soul and my mother
recognized that she wanted to get me away from the house,
needed me to be safe, because in her eyes, I
was the only one of us that still had a
(15:58):
chance of surviving the darkness. She did the one thing
that she felt she had to do in order to
save me. She pushed me away. Looking back on everything,
it made perfect sense. Her constant coldness towards me, or
berating of my actions when we did speak, did create
a distance between us, effectively breaking down our relationship. I
(16:19):
had admitted as much already that the distance between my
mother and I had been a reason I kept away
from Lighthouse all those years, but learning that it was
intentional on her part, that it was not out of
hate but out of love, broke my heart. I spent
years mad at her for treating me that way. If
we had only talked sooner, tried to bridge that gap
between us, than maybe, just maybe I could have saved
(16:41):
everyone a lot of heartbreak in the long run. Maybe
I could have saved my sister. Now I could have
even saved my mother. She told me not to think
of it that way, told me that the past was
the past, and while she did regret hurting me, she
didn't regret keeping me safe, and now, as she lay
dying in front of me, she wanted me to know
the truth before the end came. I wanted to take
(17:04):
her from this place, take her somewhere else so she
didn't have to die in the place that had ruined
our family and consumed her soul, but she refused. She
was stubborn. She still saw Linie's ghost within the house,
and she didn't want to leave her alone. She also
had her own private battle with the darkness at the
heart of Lighthouse, one I had never known about, and
(17:27):
she wanted to fight it until her dying breath, and
perhaps even in death, she could keep it at bay
for some one else. I loved my mother more in
that moment than I ever had before. It radiated off
of me, and I knew she could feel it. She
looked alive again, full of life and ready to face
(17:49):
the world, but that soon more off and she grew
weak again. She kissed my hand and told me she
needed to rest. She was tired, but she asked me
to come back later. I didn't want to leave her side,
especially after everything she revealed. Sarah came into the room,
declaring that it was time for my mother's medication. She
(18:09):
escorted me out so she could do her job, and
thus I was left alone in the hallways of lighthouse
yet again. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful.
Over dinner, Sarah continued to fill me in on my
mother's condition. I was polite, engaging in the small talk
to make conversation with the woman who had taken care
of my mother over the last few months, but I
(18:31):
wasn't invested in what she had to say. I was
too busy thinking about my mother and her revelations. I
went to see her again that evening, but she was
still too weak to talk again. With nothing else to do,
I decided to turn in for the night. I felt
strange to be back in my old room yet again,
but thankfully I managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. I
(18:52):
awoke in the middle of the night to a light
filling my room. I didn't have to open my eyes
to know what it was that sleep beacon of the
lighthouse shining bright once again. Last time I felt it
call out to me, but this time I felt like
something was wrong. An uneasy feeling sat on my chest
and it worried me. I sat up, looking around for
(19:15):
any sign of trouble, but found nothing. My ears perked
up as I heard some sort of mournful cry. My
younger self would have just thrown the blanket over my head,
wishing the night away, But now, as a grown woman
who had seen and had enough of what the house
had to offer, I wasn't going to back down. I
got up from the bed, throwing on a pair of slippers,
(19:37):
and opened my door. The hallway was dark and quiet,
the only light coming from the phantom lighthouse behind me.
There was nothing in sight here either, but I did
notice that the door to my mother's room was ajar.
I heard a gentle sob again and realized it was
coming from that direction. I sprinted down the hall toward
her room and threw open the door. My mother's room
(20:00):
was dark, almost too dark. She laid still in her bed,
her eyes wide open, as if fixated on the ceiling.
Another cry emanated from her throat, and I thought she
might be dreaming. But as my eyes adjusted to the
blackness of the room, I could see that we were
not alone. It blended in at first, but now I
(20:21):
could see the different shades of darkness hovering over my mother.
It was the shadowy thing. I watched as it bulged
from the wall behind her bed, stretching it to unheard
of proportions. As it disengaged itself from it, It made
a sickening sound as it did so, the wall snapping
back into place like an elastic band. It's nebulous shapes
(20:43):
straddled her, dark extensions of itself acting as arms and legs,
holding her down. Her already fragile body couldn't do much
to struggle against it. It leaned in close the place
where its mouth should have been, trying to draw in
her final breaths. Her body seized beneath it. I ran
to her side and tried to push it off, anger
(21:05):
rising inside me, but my hands went right through it.
It looked in my direction and one of its limbs
lashed out at me, striking me in the chest, knocking
me to the floor. I tried to regain my footing,
but it held me down. It turned back to my
mother and sucked in again, as if to take what
little life she had left in her Again, her body seized,
(21:26):
convulsive under its spell. I struggled to get up, but
its strength was too much for me to fight against.
I tried and I tried, but I could do nothing
but watch, and that's exactly what it wanted me to do,
to watch as it took my mother from me, just
as it had taken the rest of my family. The
(21:47):
shadowy thing was enjoying this. As she drifted away towards
her final sleep. My mother managed to look at me
and show one last feat of strength to say three
small words, I love you. This enraged the shadowy thing
as it went in again, covering her face completely, pulling
the last breath from her chest. Her body spasm for
(22:09):
only a moment, her back arching upwards before dropping back
to the bed. She was gone. Sated and satisfied, the
shadow let go of her and turned back to me.
I still struggled beneath its limbs, the pressure pushing down
on me. There was no clear face to see within
its darkness, but there was an impression of something there,
(22:31):
some sentience that knew exactly what it was doing. If
I didn't know any better, I would say it was
smiling at me with spring voices filled my ears, becoming
so loud that they were deafening within the small confines
of the room. The shadow thrived off of them, growing
larger by the second a creature of mighty proportions. It
(22:52):
coiled more limbs around my body, squeezing the air from
my lungs, toying with me. The nebulous shape where its
face should have been continued to smile as it came
for me. Right before everything went black. Lighthouse were returned
(23:15):
after a word from our sponsors, and now Lighthouse continues.
The next thing I remembered, it was the next morning,
and I was in a place I didn't expect. I
was in the lighthouse, not in the small apartment I
(23:38):
had seen during my previous visit, but outside on the
balcony area that surrounded the window panes where the beacon sat.
I had no recollection of how I got there or
why I was even there, and that scared me. As
the sun rose over the ocean, I tried to piece
together what had happened the day before, my mother confiding
in me being awakened in the night by the light,
(24:00):
and the shadowy thing taking the last of my mother's life.
My mother was dead, another victim of Lighthouse's darkness. I
stood my legs wobbily and leaned against the balcony's railing
as I looked out over the ocean. I remembered, this
is where my sister had died, where she had thrown
(24:21):
herself to her death on the rocks below. A shudder
ran through me. Not wanting to think about that, I
turned to leave to find my way back down. When
I caught my reflection in the glass. I looked lost, broken, even,
but somehow younger. A strand of hair dangled in front
of my face, and I went to move it away,
(24:41):
when I realized my reflection did not follow suit. Instead,
it just stood there, staring at me. It dawned on
me then that this was not my reflection. It was Lini.
Lini's ghost watched me from within the lighthouse, standing guard
next to the beacon. She watched me as I found
the doorway back inside and went to her. Lenie. I asked,
(25:05):
hoping for some kind of response, Lenie, why am I here?
She smiled sadly at me, still clinging onto that teddy bear.
I didn't say a word. She merely continued to stare,
our eyes locked together. Eventually, I sat, unable to stand
any longer, but not wanting to leave her. She may
(25:27):
have been gone, but at least right now, in some way,
we were able to enjoy each other's company, a bright
spot in a long line of terrible ones. I don't
know how long we stood like that, simply watching each other,
waiting for the other to move. The sun moved across
the sky, and when it sat overhead, Leonie began to
slowly fade. The fainter she grew, the more sad she became,
(25:52):
as if there was something she wanted to do but
was unable to. Just before she faded from view completely,
she lifted her free hand and pointed toward a cabinet
beneath the beacon itself. It was latch closed, but as
she faded away, I opened it. Inside was the old
real to real player we had found in the dark
(26:12):
room when we were younger. Sitting on top of it
was a book of matches, a single match taken from inside.
But of more interest was the circular object wrapped in
a cloth sitting next to it. I removed it from
its packaging and found it to be a metal canister,
when containing a recording written in Leni's handwriting on a
(26:34):
piece of tape was a single word goodbye. I left
the lighthouse, real to reel and canister in hand, slowly
making my way through the living quarters, down the winding staircase,
and into the clearing. I went back to the house
to find Sarah leaning over my mother, tears in her eyes.
She apologized for my loss and told me if I wanted,
(26:56):
she would begin to make arrangements for her instead. I
thanked her for all her hard work these past few months,
but that she needed to leave immediately. I didn't want
Lighthouse to take a hold of her too. She left,
and I sat with my mother's corpse, thinking back on
the previous evening. Lighthouse had been fed. It's hunger sated
(27:16):
for now, but I knew it was only a matter
of time before it needed to claim another soul. But
this time things would be different. This time, the only
thing left for it was me. With my mother gone,
I was now the sole owner of Lighthouse. It's fate
was mine and mine alone to decide. A stronger woman
(27:37):
would have had it torn down, leveling the land, making
sure nothing was built there ever again. But not me.
I prove vindictive. Over the years, Lighthouse had taken so
much from me, had ruined my family and our life.
It was time for me to pay that back in kind.
I was content to make it suffer, just as it
(27:59):
had done to for so long. I was going to
walk out of Lighthouse later that day and leave it
to rot. No more would a living soul occupy its halls,
giving it a chance to prey on them. Instead, it
would sit empty and alone on the bluff, forgotten and suffering.
As long as I had life to live, I meant
(28:19):
to leave Lighthouse alone to wither away and die. And
for almost twenty years, that is exactly what I did.
And then the Man in the Hat came back for me.
(28:49):
Lighthouse is a production of I Heart Radio and Bamford Productions.
Chapter eight featured the voice of Ali Trash, written and
directed by Jeff Heimbug Audio Engineering, an original musical score
by Corey Celeste. Production assistance by Alex Gona. Executive produced
(29:09):
by Holly Fry. Questions comments, you can reach us at
The Man in the Hat is Watching at gmail dot com.
Thank you for listening.
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