0:01

Twelve Ghosts is a production of iHeart three

0:03

D audio and grim and Mild from Aaron Banky

0:06

Headphones Recommended listener discretion

0:09

advised. In

0:20

the bleak midwinter, frosty

0:22

winds may moan Earth

0:25

stood hard as iron, water

0:28

like a stone. Snow

0:30

had fallen, snow on

0:33

snow, snow on

0:35

snow in the bleak

0:38

midwinter long ago.

1:08

So this is the afterlife

1:11

more or less, yes, more or

1:14

less. This is the liminal space

1:16

between life and the next chapter. This

1:20

is the great in between, the

1:22

lobby of the hotel hereafter.

1:26

Does everyone get this treatment? No?

1:29

Not. Everyone chooses to come in from

1:31

the cold, and those

1:33

that don't they

1:36

stay out there in the dark and the

1:38

cold. Some try to

1:40

return to the place that they were before,

1:43

but I can't imagine they'd enjoy

1:45

it, most of them cling

1:47

to a loved one or a house they

1:50

haunted in life. Some

1:53

go back for revenge. But

1:55

eventually they all end

1:57

up back in the wood here, lucky

2:00

or sulking, depending

2:04

if I were to have been followed.

2:07

Ah, now you're

2:09

getting somewhere. Could

2:12

they follow me in here? Perhaps?

2:16

But they get nothing beside a long slumber.

2:19

This is a place of rest.

2:23

There is nothing here but a fire and wine

2:26

and peace, and

2:29

the bell always the bell

2:31

call to action, a beginning and

2:34

end, the tolls for the

2:37

traveler. Hello,

2:43

there you look surprisingly chipper.

2:45

Come in, ah,

2:51

Charmie, Well, I thank you.

2:54

You must be Augustine, one

2:57

and the same. And would

2:59

you like an I swarming cup of

3:01

mulled wine. Augustine, I

3:04

would thank you, coming

3:06

right up. Hello,

3:13

Apologies, I was swept away in

3:15

your rosy demeanor and forgot

3:18

my manners. Augustine. This

3:21

is Annabelle. Hello. How

3:24

was your journey surprising?

3:27

I didn't know what to expect. Well,

3:31

you're in good company.

3:34

The wine m

3:36

hm smells amazing. I

3:38

hope that you enjoy it. It's

3:43

excellent. How

3:45

interesting to see someone so happy

3:48

to be here. Most visitors

3:51

seem quite unprepared to be at my

3:53

table. I

3:56

have grown accustomed to the unusual,

3:59

the uncanny I see.

4:03

I've sought it out since I first became aware

4:05

that there was something beyond the veil. Do

4:08

tell it

4:10

began at the Dalton House. The

4:17

beauty of the Dalton House could not be seen

4:20

from the road. They said it was

4:22

better viewed from a small beach called snow

4:24

Cove, and the sea if I ever

4:26

ventured into the water, though

4:28

that was unlikely. I

4:31

peered through the woods as I drove, watching

4:34

for hints of life. I

4:37

saw nothing. The twisted

4:39

trees and rocky cliffs were angry gatekeepers.

4:42

A few flurries, forewarned of a storm.

4:45

I knew I was close when I saw a glimmer of lights

4:48

ahead. Dalton

4:52

House was a desolate gym,

4:54

like a star, barely tethered

4:56

to this earth, and it was my

4:58

home for Christmas. By

5:01

the time I unloaded my bags, the

5:03

snow started to swirl. The

5:06

roads would not be cleared again until the day

5:08

after Christmas. I'm

5:10

ashamed to say I felt a little afraid, but

5:14

fear was a welcome change from my sadness.

5:18

I was the caretaker at Dalton House for

5:20

the month of December. The family

5:22

promised an ample supply of firewood

5:24

and running water. I

5:26

was capable with an axe if I needed. Spiders

5:30

and cobwebs did not frighten me. I

5:33

love the idea of a warm fire

5:35

and a quiet Christmas Holidays

5:38

were noisy and crowded in my family.

5:41

That meant exhausting. I

5:44

spent years giving myself to school

5:46

and work in my family, but

5:48

I never did anything for me. It

5:52

felt dangerous putting myself first, but

5:55

that's what I planned to do. Dalton

5:57

House was a job and a

6:00

lift. December would be a

6:02

fresh start, the end of the year,

6:04

new beginnings. I

6:09

wandered through the house. Sofas

6:11

and chairs surrounded a grand piano

6:13

in the parlor. It glistened

6:15

like a black mirror in the center of the room.

6:18

Across the hall, I found a dark

6:21

dining room with a low hanging chandelier.

6:24

I touched the counters in the kitchen and straightened

6:27

cans and the overstocked pantry. Eventually

6:30

I found the great room, with a wall of windows

6:32

that faced the gray sea. The

6:35

sound rumbled through the glass.

6:40

To my surprise, the fireplace

6:43

roared with life. The orange

6:45

flames and warmth lured

6:47

me further into the room.

6:49

I was supposed to start the fire, and

6:52

yet there it was burning,

6:54

hot and bright. Someone

6:57

had recently been in the house. Of

7:01

course, they sent someone, I told myself. A

7:03

freshly cut Christmas tree stood near the window.

7:05

It was green and damp. The

7:08

scent of pine filled the room.

7:10

Several boxes of decoration surrounded

7:12

the tree. I picked up the simple

7:15

card on top Merry

7:18

Christmas Augustine. The

7:21

Daltons told me that their great grandfather had

7:23

been a sea captain. He built this

7:25

house when he retired from working the sea. It

7:28

was clear from the love put into it that

7:31

his heart hadn't quite retired. Every

7:34

generation after spent Christmas in that

7:36

place. The house had been renovated

7:38

numerous times over the years. I

7:41

could tell which walls were built by Captain

7:43

Dalton's hands. As

7:45

I fell asleep on the first night, I

7:48

wondered about him, the captain

7:50

who loved the sea, the house he

7:52

built, the state near her. On

7:57

the first full day, I barely

7:59

made halfway down the beach when I heard the

8:01

bells. A

8:05

child ran towards me from the distance. He

8:07

was a young boy who waved cheerfully. He

8:10

wore heavy boots and a good coat, like

8:12

he was used to the biting December wind on the shore.

8:15

I waved back. I was

8:17

delighted to see that I had neighbors after all.

8:21

Hello, Mere Christmas. He

8:24

shouted and looked as excited as Christmas

8:26

morning. He found a treasure

8:29

of shiny rocks. He emptied

8:31

his pockets to show me the stones he carried,

8:34

smooth, jagged and every

8:36

color of the rainbow. The boy

8:38

asked me to join him. I collected

8:40

as many as I could find and laid them on a boulder

8:42

for his inspection. He was about

8:45

to critique my collection when he turned his head

8:47

toward the wind. My mom

8:49

is calling. He got up and

8:51

ran down the shore, just as happy

8:53

as before. He turned

8:55

and waved one last time. I

8:58

heard the bells again when he shouted goodbye.

9:02

I mirrored his excitement with my own as I waved

9:04

back. If Christmas had a

9:07

sound, it was the sound of a child's laughter

9:09

and the echoing of jingle bells. That

9:14

night, I kept the fire roaring

9:16

and started to decorate the Christmas tree. I

9:19

looked down the beach for signs of another house

9:21

or lights through the trees. There

9:24

were none. There was nothing

9:26

but the darkness. The

9:31

next afternoon, I met my young friend again.

9:33

As I walked on the beach, we searched

9:36

for slipper shells. He challenged

9:38

me to a race and then a skipping contest.

9:41

I was about to ask him about his family when he paused,

9:44

I have to go. I'll see you

9:46

tomorrow. Merry Christmas. He

9:49

sprinted down the beach and remembered to wave at me

9:51

from the distance. On the third

9:54

day, we made a snow man. The

9:56

sand and snow were nice compliments to each

9:58

other. The boy found rocks

10:00

and shells for eyes and nose. I

10:03

found driftwood. The

10:05

final masterpiece stood almost as

10:07

tall as me. He's

10:09

a sea captain, the boy

10:11

exclaimed. I want to be a

10:13

captain when I grow up. I

10:16

thought of Captain Dalton and looked back at the

10:18

house. It was a perfect

10:20

site from the beach. The house was

10:22

painted navy blue with white trim.

10:25

It looked like a Christmas dream.

10:28

The boys infectious laughter filled the air.

10:32

I wish I could stay with you forever, he

10:35

said. The child turned

10:37

toward Dalton House. Have

10:40

you been here before? I asked.

10:44

Then the wind changed and

10:47

he stood up. I noticed

10:49

a bell tied to a button on

10:51

his coat. When he ran off,

10:53

he made a familiar sound, bells

10:57

and laughter. He paused

11:00

and looked at me one more time. Merry

11:03

Christmas, Augustine. I

11:07

never told him my name. The

11:09

next day, I did not see

11:12

the boy when I took my walk. I

11:14

hesitated when I thought of venturing further down the

11:16

beach to where he usually emerged. It

11:19

seemed silly to me to miss the company

11:21

of a child who I did not know. I

11:24

was thankful for him. My eyes

11:26

were now good at finding the little things. But

11:29

without his laughter and bells, the

11:32

beach felt lonely and haunted

11:34

at the same time. That

11:37

night, I decorated the Christmas tree

11:39

with glass ornaments and seashells. Periodically

11:42

I gazed out over the sea. Something

11:45

caught my eye. I

11:47

saw the shadow on the water. It

11:51

was an old man rowing. He

11:53

was strong and moved through the

11:55

ocean easily. He glanced

11:58

over his shoulder and saw me at the window. Our

12:01

eyes locked. I couldn't

12:03

make out all the details of his face, but he was

12:06

there. He

12:08

raised a hand to me in greeting, but

12:10

before I could return the gesture, I saw

12:13

him mouth the single word from across the

12:15

distance, augusty.

12:19

My heart braced. I was

12:22

afraid. I touched

12:24

the glass between us, and

12:26

just like that, he was gone behind

12:28

a wave. I

12:30

blinked my eyes many times to see if he returned.

12:33

He didn't. Who

12:36

was he? How did he know

12:39

my name? Why was I

12:41

said that he was gone? The

12:44

following night, I sat in a chair

12:46

by the window and stared outside. Sadness

12:50

makes your mind bold and reckless ways.

12:53

At first he didn't come. Then

12:57

as I started to fall asleep, I

13:00

heard bells. He

13:05

was out there on the water. I

13:08

felt him. It wasn't my imagination.

13:11

I opened my eyes. There he

13:14

rode for many moments before glancing up at the

13:16

house, his eyes on me,

13:19

Augustine, and

13:22

then he was gone. Nothing

13:25

on the water, not shadow or

13:27

boat or spirit. I

13:30

warmed at his whispered word. He

13:33

missed me. How could a

13:35

hundred year old man who lived a hundred years

13:38

ago miss me? I

13:41

was so tired in my life and hadn't

13:43

thought about love. Something

13:46

in his eyes and voice suggested

13:49

that if I chose to live, love

13:51

might be waiting for me. A

13:57

more ly, he

14:02

was longing for me. I

14:05

was haunting him.

14:08

I saw him again on the next night.

14:11

Once more he whispered my name

14:13

and disappeared. The

14:17

following day, I didn't see

14:19

anything as I watched the beach in ocean. I

14:22

had spent three days with a boy on the beach

14:24

and three nights with an old man watching me

14:26

from the water. Just as

14:28

the boy had come and gone. The

14:30

old ghosts did not show up a fourth time,

14:33

but walking on the coal sand. I

14:36

heard something from the sea, bells,

14:40

splashing, and a cry for help.

14:44

I hugged my coat closer around me in panic,

14:47

going into the water, midt dying, help,

14:52

is anyone there? My

14:55

panic stepped into the tide just

14:57

like that, mh.

15:02

The water went still, still as

15:04

a hidden lake. The ocean became

15:06

a perfect mirror above

15:09

a single star shone brightly in the black

15:11

sky. I could

15:13

see him then, floating

15:16

lifeless, naked, like

15:18

a newborn baby. A

15:20

single push of the tide brought him to the shore at

15:23

my feet, like a gift. I

15:25

waded into the water to pull him onto the sand.

15:28

He was coughing cold. He

15:31

wore talisman around his neck and nothing

15:33

else. With effort, I

15:35

got him to stand and he stumbled

15:38

in confusion. I wrapped my coat around

15:40

him. What are you

15:42

doing here? He has between

15:44

breaths. Where's my

15:47

family? I

15:49

have to get you inside. Let me help

15:51

you. Though he

15:53

eyed me warily, he was weak,

15:56

he did not fight. I

15:59

was strength. As we climbed the steps to the

16:01

house. Tell me your

16:03

name, I said I

16:07

he paused, my

16:10

name is. I

16:21

put him in front of the fire and brought tea with whiskey.

16:25

This is my family's house. He

16:28

was talking to himself, not me. He

16:32

was trying to remember something. For

16:35

the first time, I felt like I didn't belong

16:37

at this place. The house

16:39

that once had been mine became his. I

16:43

turned to look for clothes in my room when I

16:45

heard his voice behind me. You

16:48

sleep in the captain's room.

16:51

I had not considered sleeping in any other.

16:54

It felt like mine. I

16:56

rummaged through drawers until I found draw string

16:59

pants in a long leave shirt. Everything

17:01

perfumed with cedar. He

17:03

accepted the clothes, the whiskey,

17:06

the tea. We sat in silence until

17:08

he took a breath that sounded human. Still

17:11

he didn't know his name. He

17:13

stared at a portrait of the old captain over

17:15

the fireplace. They looked

17:18

like echoes of each other. The

17:20

necklace he wore made a jingling sound. I

17:24

don't have a way to get you help. Into the road clears,

17:27

but in the morning I can walk down the beach

17:29

to the other house and see if they can get you help.

17:32

I said, what

17:34

house. I pointed

17:37

in the direction where the boy would greet me. There

17:40

are no other houses on this point. That

17:43

way is the sea cliff. He

17:47

closed his eyes and took a shuttered breath. Oh

17:50

God, my head hurts.

17:53

I'm so tired. I

17:55

asked him not to sleep because he might have a concussion.

17:59

He agreed to but stay awake,

18:02

so I spoke to him.

18:04

I told him the history of the Dalton family and

18:06

how the old sea captain built this place. I

18:10

told him of my long drive to find the

18:12

house, and how I busied myself

18:14

for the first seven days. Nothing

18:18

seemed to jog his memory. I

18:20

did not mention the boy or the old man. I

18:23

don't know why. I offered him

18:25

the captain's room, but he didn't want it.

18:27

He found a bedroom down the hall. In

18:30

the morning. I finally let him

18:32

rest before he closed

18:34

his eyes. I never

18:36

asked your name, he said. I

18:39

didn't want to give my name. It

18:41

seems silly like my name

18:44

might mean something to him,

18:46

Augustine. He

18:49

stared at me for a long time. When

18:51

he closed his eyes, he whispered, Augustine,

18:56

Augustine. I

18:59

shivered, m h. When

19:04

he woke, he didn't talk much,

19:07

but he asked why I was alone. Loneliness

19:11

seemed unnatural to him.

19:14

Eventually I told him that I needed quiet. I

19:16

told him I needed time to take care

19:19

of myself. I admitted

19:21

the truth that many people avoided Christmas.

19:23

The holidays had always made me sad.

19:27

He was next to me on the sofa. When he reached out

19:29

to hold my hand. I

19:31

saw the lights from the tree reflected

19:33

in his dark eyes. I'm

19:36

glad you're here, Augustine. I

19:39

wished I knew his name. He

19:42

pulled me close and I rested

19:44

my head on his shoulder. Over

19:47

the next several days, he gave me space

19:50

to take walks and read in front of the fire.

19:53

I believe he was embarrassed to interrupt my

19:55

solitude. We circled

19:57

away from each other. I would

19:59

feed the ire in the hearth. He

20:01

would make dinner. The first

20:03

time it surprised me, but then we got

20:06

into the easy habit of circling near each other in

20:08

the kitchen at night, he would

20:10

cook, I would clean. We

20:12

both could play the piano enough to get a laugh

20:15

or smile out of the other. He

20:17

could not remember his name, but

20:21

he said mine often. I

20:24

tried to figure out who the man was. We

20:26

looked through photos. He

20:28

wasn't in them, but he resembled

20:31

every face we saw. Still,

20:34

we fell into a comfortable routine. He

20:38

cooked with more passion and speed than I could.

20:41

The fires he built burned brighter.

20:44

He smelled like cedar, and see

20:46

and miracles. He loved

20:48

Christmas and knew this house. Yet he'd

20:50

never seen the ghost of a boy or an

20:52

old man, just me.

20:56

I was the one haunting him.

20:59

On Christmas Eve, I

21:01

kissed him, his tongue

21:04

hot and sweet like apple

21:06

cider. On Christmas

21:09

morning he undressed me. My

21:12

skin was cold until he touched me.

21:15

The talisman around his neck meat a sound

21:17

that reminded me of a boy's laughter and

21:19

an old man on the sea.

21:22

He didn't know where the necklace came from,

21:25

only that it had always been with him.

21:28

He kissed me slowly, and

21:30

we fell asleep. In

21:35

the morning, the road was cleared

21:37

of snow. He was

21:39

gone, but I wasn't

21:42

alone. He'd left

21:44

behind the laughter, longing

21:48

and love. The

21:51

necklace was on me as though

21:53

it had always been there. You

22:02

gave him peace, how lovely?

22:06

I do hope so he

22:09

certainly brought me peace and

22:11

the rest of your life. M

22:14

hm. It was remarkable.

22:18

Mh. But now

22:22

now I would like to

22:24

rest well. That just

22:26

happens to be the house speciality.

22:31

I thought it may be Here

22:35

is a key, Augustine. Up

22:38

the stairs, seventh store

22:40

on the left. You'll find

22:42

what you've come for. Along

22:46

went his nap and

22:50

you. I sent some

22:52

tremor beneath the surface. I

22:55

hope you find rest as well well.

23:00

Off to bed with me, good

23:02

night. What

23:09

did she mean a tremor? I

23:13

surely do not know, And

23:16

yet yet, and

23:19

yet I feel as though you

23:21

are close to finding out, my dear.

23:25

Let's have another cup of wine. The

23:28

night isn't getting any younger. Twelve

23:48

Ghosts starring Malcolm McDowell as

23:50

the Innkeeper and Gina Rikiki

23:53

as Annabelle. Episode seven,

23:55

The Drowning Man written by Nikki Salcedo

23:58

with additional writing by Nicholas to Ski,

24:00

editing by Chris Childs and Stephen Perez,

24:03

featuring April Parker Jones as

24:05

Augustine. Directed by Nicholas

24:08

Takowski. Original score and sound

24:10

design by Chris Child's. Executive

24:13

producers Aaron Mankey, Matt Frederick,

24:15

Alexander Williams and Nicholas Takowski.

24:18

Supervising producer Josh Staine,

24:21

Producers Chris Child's and Stephen

24:23

Perez. Casting by Sunday

24:25

Bowling, C s A and Meg Mormon

24:27

c s A production coordinator

24:30

Wayna Calderon, recorded at Lantern

24:32

Audio in Atlanta, Georgia, engineered

24:35

by Chris Gardner, Aeros Sound

24:37

and Recording in Ojai, California,

24:39

engineered by Ken Arros. Twelve

24:42

Ghosts was created by Nicholas Takowski.

24:45

Then is a production of i Heeart three D

24:47

Audio and Grim and Mild from Aaron Manky.

24:49

Learn more about the show at Grim and Mild

24:52

dot com and find more podcasts from

24:54

i heart Radio by visiting the i heart Radio

24:56

app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever

24:58

you listen to your favorite shows.

25:00

O