0:01

Lighthouse is a production of I Heart

0:03

Radio and bamfor Productions. Thirteen

0:07

years passed since my father died. Thirteen

0:10

years since something had worked its way into

0:12

his soul and tried to kill my family using

0:15

his face as a disguise. Thirteen

0:17

years I lived with the pain of knowing

0:19

that I wasn't strong enough to stop him. Though

0:21

the mental anguish has lingered, I got

0:24

off easy compared to my family. My mother

0:26

thankfully survived her fall from the second

0:28

story. However, she struck her spine

0:31

in such a way that she was confined to a wheelchair.

0:33

She hadn't lost all mobility of her legs,

0:35

but enough of it where she could no longer walk

0:38

on her own. My sister suffered injuries

0:40

from the shot gum blasts, but was still able

0:42

to walk, albeit with a limp. But the

0:44

emotional torment of taking our father's

0:46

life, especially in such a brutal way, had

0:49

taken its toll on her. In many ways.

0:51

She had reverted to a more childlike

0:53

state, a ten year old stuck in a late

0:55

twentysomething's body. I stayed

0:57

with my mother and Leni for as long as I could poss

1:00

please stand it. At first, I tried to convince

1:02

my mother to leave, to sell lighthouse and get

1:04

as far away as humanly possible,

1:06

but she refused for some reason. She

1:09

was determined to make it work and

1:11

keep the house that she yearned so desperately

1:13

for. However, for me,

1:16

staying in the house became too much. Seeing

1:19

them every day reminded me of

1:21

that night, of the terror I felt, of

1:23

how sure I was that my life was going to

1:25

end. The ghosts roaming the halls

1:28

were quiet for some time, the darkness

1:30

is hunger sated, but it wasn't

1:32

long before they returned. I left

1:34

as soon as I was able to. A part

1:36

of me felt like I was a horrible person, abandoning

1:39

my family during a time that they needed me the most.

1:42

But staying around lighthouse wallowing

1:44

and misery as the world just passed by

1:47

it was not how I wanted to spend the rest

1:49

of my life. Hiding out from

1:51

the leering gaze of ghosts and shadow

1:53

creatures was not something I wanted

1:55

my world to solely consist of. By

1:58

the time the first anniversary of my father's

2:00

death came around, I had packed up and gone.

2:03

At first, I still came to visit, to

2:05

see and care for my mother and my sister

2:08

to make sure they were okay. But soon

2:10

my visits became less and less frequent, until

2:12

they stopped altogether. Instead,

2:15

the telephone was my only connection

2:17

left to Lighthouse, and even then

2:19

I rushed off the phone as soon as I possibly

2:21

could. Even just listening to them depressed

2:24

me and brought back too many bad memories. Thirteen

2:27

years passed since my father tried to kill

2:29

us, but it was almost ten since I

2:31

had laid eyes on my mother, or my sister,

2:34

or even my old home. I thought

2:36

that this was finally it. I had severed

2:38

my connection to that place of madness

2:40

once and for all, and I would finally be

2:42

free of its curse. I was naive

2:45

to think I would never set foot in Lighthouse again.

3:05

Lighthouse, Chapter five.

3:30

For almost ten years, my life

3:33

was normal, blissfully

3:35

so as a life of boring mediocrity

3:38

was exactly what I wanted. After those

3:41

first stressful years of my life, I

3:43

decided that I needed to move as far away

3:45

from Lighthouse as possible, away from

3:47

the ocean at the time, and

3:49

with the money I had that translated into

3:51

Newark, Maryland. It wasn't the

3:53

most wonderful place in the world, but it was

3:55

not Lighthouse, and that was good

3:58

enough for me. I got a job

4:00

as a secretary for a construction company

4:02

and made enough to live comfortably on my own.

4:05

I made a few friends, creating some

4:07

lasting relationships, and for the first

4:09

time in a long time, I was

4:12

happy. About a year after

4:14

I moved there, I met Chris. He

4:16

had just moved into town and recently

4:18

got a job as a driver for the same company

4:20

I worked for. We talked, flirted,

4:23

even endlessly for months, until

4:25

finally he worked up the there of to ask me

4:27

how We were married a year later.

4:30

It was a small ceremony at the courthouse with

4:32

just a few close friends and his family and attendance.

4:36

I invited my mother and my sister, but

4:38

it wasn't a surprise when they didn't show up. In

4:41

truth, I was relieved I

4:44

had kept my past and my family a secret

4:46

from my new friends, so that saved me from

4:48

having to explain the hardships I've been

4:50

through. Life with Chris was great.

4:53

Like all relationships, there were ups and downs,

4:55

but Chris remained by my side and

4:57

I by his through all of them.

5:00

We had a modest apartment together that

5:02

eventually turned into a nice condo, and

5:04

then into our own home, a

5:07

home that was nothing like

5:09

Lighthouse. Soon that home

5:12

was haunted by an entity other than us,

5:14

a baby boy named Kevin. His

5:17

laughter echoed through our halls, just as

5:19

his cries echoed through the night. He

5:22

was our pride and joy, and we loved

5:24

him with everything we had. Chris

5:26

wanted to name him after my side of the family,

5:28

but I was not going to be reminded of what

5:30

I left behind, and so we

5:32

settled on the name of his great grandfather.

5:36

Things were good. I was

5:38

happy, We were

5:40

happy, and then the

5:42

nightmares started. The

5:44

details of them varied from night to night,

5:46

but the subject matter was always the same Lighthouse.

5:50

Sometimes I was a child again, running through the

5:52

halls, playing with my sister, before

5:54

coming across the residence of the house I tried

5:57

so hard to forget. Sometimes

5:59

I was being chased by the shadowy thing, gaining

6:01

on my heels as it jumped in and out

6:04

of the walls to get to me. Sometimes

6:07

it was of the lighthouse on the bluff, the

6:09

dim glow from the top shining

6:12

down on me until it became so bright

6:14

that I went blind. It got

6:16

bad enough that Chris suggested I go see

6:18

a therapist. Jan was her

6:20

name. At first I was unsure

6:22

about her. I had seen enough doctors during

6:24

my youth that I had grown skeptical of them,

6:27

But over time I began to open up

6:30

to her. In fact, I found

6:32

that I had bottled up so much of my

6:34

past for so long that it was a

6:36

relief to get it off my chest. She

6:39

was interested in my medical records from when

6:41

I was a child, but at last I

6:43

did not have copies of them, and

6:45

I was hesitant to reach out to my mother for them.

6:48

Who knew if she even had them any longer, I

6:51

filled in the blanks as best I could. I

6:54

saw things, and my parents were concerned.

6:57

I got brave enough with her that I

6:59

even told told her of the things in the house.

7:02

I was afraid she would laugh, that

7:04

she would not believe me, but

7:06

she just listened intently and gave her advice.

7:08

Afterward, Jan was wonderful

7:11

and truly believed the nightmares were manifestations

7:13

of my not completely dealing with the past.

7:16

Also, to be fair, she wasn't wrong.

7:19

I had not really dealt with the ramifications

7:22

of that night with my father, nor everything

7:24

that came before. As for

7:26

the ghostly dwellers in Lighthouse. She

7:28

did have a purely scientific theory about their

7:31

existence, especially based

7:33

on my medical issues as a child. Considering

7:35

how my family unit had deteriorated

7:38

over time, she felt that both my sister

7:40

and I had a sort of shared

7:42

delusion that sounds much

7:44

worse than it actually is. But in

7:47

short, we created a scenario

7:49

to help us better cope with the conditions of our

7:51

home life. Instead of our father

7:53

beating our mother, we believed that

7:55

a dark entity in our home was causing

7:58

him to do so. Psycho analytical

8:00

assumptions aside, it did make

8:02

sense, especially given that

8:04

I had a history of such In

8:07

fact, I even believed that explanation

8:10

myself for a while, but

8:12

in my heart I knew that was not

8:14

true. I was cured when

8:16

I was a child, so there was none

8:18

of that left in me. Instead, the

8:21

things living in the dark of Lighthouse were

8:23

real. They had to be. Around

8:26

the time we entered the nineties, my nightmares

8:29

stopped being nightmares and stepped

8:31

into the real world in one of

8:33

the most frightening ways possible. Chris

8:36

was at work and I had the day off, so

8:38

I decided to take Keaven for a walk to the park.

8:41

He had a lot of energy that morning, and I thought

8:43

it would be best for him to expel it there.

8:46

He was four at the time, the prime age for running

8:48

around and playing with other children on the playground.

8:51

It was dreary that day, the sun not quite

8:53

burning through the clouds yet, but the

8:55

park was crowded. Nonetheless, by

8:58

the time we made it to the playground, I had early

9:00

said the words be careful before

9:02

Kevin took off to be with his friends. I

9:05

sat down on a bench nearby, watching

9:08

him weave in and out of you as

9:10

I sipped on my coffee. Some

9:12

of the other mothers I was friendly with came

9:14

and went, sharing a few scattered

9:17

conversations before they moved on to say

9:19

hello to the others. My eyes

9:21

kept watching the playground as the

9:23

sea of children movements sometimes

9:25

made it difficult to see Kevin, sending

9:27

momentary waves of panic through me, but

9:31

he always reappeared A few seconds later.

9:34

I was in the middle of speaking to another mom

9:36

about a sale a local grocer was

9:38

having on apples, a typically

9:40

mundane thing to be talking about, when

9:43

something caught my eye at

9:45

the far end of the playground, through

9:47

the jungle gym area, and beyond the swings

9:50

stood a man. He was

9:52

hard to make out, as the children swinging back

9:54

and forth on the swings made it somewhat difficult

9:57

to get a good look at him. But the

9:59

more I stared in his direction, the

10:01

more I realized he was looking down at

10:03

something or someone. Rather.

10:07

This man gave me a bad feeling, so my eyes

10:09

darted around the playground looking for Kevin,

10:11

just to make sure he was safe. But I didn't

10:13

see him, not running around, not coming

10:16

down the slide, not even playing ball

10:18

in the field. I stood up, my

10:20

eyes continued to search on the verge of panic.

10:23

When I looked back to the man, he

10:26

still stood there, looking down,

10:29

nodding his head at a child,

10:32

and I realized that child was Kevin,

10:35

my son, talking to this stranger. I started

10:37

to walk that direction, weaving in and

10:39

out of running children, to get my son away

10:41

from this strange man. As I

10:43

did, the man looked up and locked eyes

10:45

with me, stopping me cold in my

10:48

tracks. It was then

10:50

that I realized he was wearing an

10:52

Edwardian coat with a bowler

10:55

hat atop his head. He

10:57

smiled at me and

11:00

chilled me. It

11:02

had been so long since I had seen him

11:04

that. It caught me off guard. As soon as my mind

11:06

registered who it was. It

11:09

was the man in the hat, hundreds

11:12

of miles from lighthouse here

11:15

with my son, My

11:17

entire world went blank and I saw nothing

11:19

but him. What was he doing

11:21

here? How did he get here? What

11:24

did he want? I broke into

11:26

a run, swerving around kids, even knocking

11:28

one out of my way, to get to him. It

11:30

took me longer than I hoped. As I ran, my

11:33

eyes locked on them.

11:35

As I looked, the

11:38

man in the hat simply disappeared into

11:40

thin air. By the

11:42

time I reached Kevin, I was terrified. I

11:45

grabbed him and asked him what happened.

11:47

He just looked at me with white eyes,

11:50

Confused. I asked him

11:52

about the man in the hat, but he didn't know what

11:54

I was talking about. He had

11:56

no recollection of seeing him, and instead

11:59

was angry that I was keeping him from playing. He

12:01

tried to squirm out of my grip, but we

12:03

needed to go. There was no chance

12:06

I was going to stay there after what I had seen.

12:08

I dragged Kevin home, almost kicking and

12:10

screaming, and tried to put it out of my mind.

12:13

When Chris came home that night. I told

12:15

him I wasn't feeling well and went to bed. When

12:18

sleep finally did come, it was restless.

12:21

I awoke in the middle of the night from a nightmare

12:23

when that involved lighthouse again. Unfortunately,

12:26

I could not get back to sleep. Not

12:29

wanting to wake Chris, I went into

12:31

the living room to try to pass the time. I

12:34

made myself some tea and was about

12:36

to settle down to watch some television when

12:39

something compelled me to take a look out the window.

12:42

I went over to it, almost as if under

12:45

some kind of spell, and lifted the

12:47

curtain back to see into the night. My

12:49

eyes weren't quite adjusted yet, so it

12:52

was just a blank canvas before me. But

12:54

soon the black blobs

12:56

of the evening took shape and I looked around.

13:00

Was normal at first glance, until

13:03

I looked up the street. They're

13:06

standing under a street light was

13:08

the man in the hat. I

13:11

gasped and nearly dropped my tea. He

13:13

stared in my direction as I tried to remain

13:15

calm and did the only thing I could

13:17

do I think I hadn't done in

13:19

some time. I

13:21

closed my eyes and I counted to five,

13:26

one, two,

13:32

three, four

13:38

five, I opened

13:40

my eyes and he was still

13:43

there, tipping his hat

13:45

as he smiled. I

13:47

quickly moved back from the window, replacing the

13:49

curtain again. I didn't want to see him anymore,

13:51

nor did I want him to see me. But

13:53

over the coming days it didn't matter. Anytime

13:56

I closed my eyes, I saw him

13:58

standing there smile at me, a

14:01

byproduct of my imagination. But

14:04

it wasn't long before he sprung from my mind

14:06

and started to appear in my everyday life

14:09

in the aisles of the grocery store, the

14:11

hallways, at work, outside

14:13

Kevin's school on the street corner

14:16

as I drove by, the man in

14:18

the hat was back, and he wanted me

14:20

to notice him. After a few

14:22

days of this, I couldn't stand it anymore. I

14:25

called Jan and asked if we could move my

14:27

appointment up. Jan listened

14:29

and did her best to try to comfort me about

14:31

it, but for some reason it didn't

14:33

help. His reappearance back

14:35

in my life shook me to my core,

14:38

and my usual coping mechanisms were

14:40

not helping. So Jan

14:42

suggested something unorthodox. Perhaps

14:45

you're seeing him is your mind's unconscious

14:48

way of letting you know you need closure.

14:50

She told me closure for what

14:52

I asked her. Your father's death,

14:55

your repressed childhood, your guilt

14:57

over leaving your family behind in your new life

15:00

life. She said, perhaps it's

15:02

time you went back home to confront your fears

15:04

so you can put them behind you once and for all.

15:06

Maybe if you looked hard enough, you

15:09

might find some answers to the questions you

15:11

seek. Questions

15:13

I asked about the

15:15

house, it's history, your family.

15:18

You said your father didn't talk much about his family

15:20

before you moved into Lighthouse. Maybe

15:23

if you learned more about them, these

15:25

things won't bother you as much. Maybe

15:27

if you learn about this man in the hat

15:30

who he is, maybe he will

15:32

go away. I rejected the

15:34

thought the moment she said it,

15:36

But as I left my session and saw the man

15:38

in the hat waiting to tip his hat toward

15:40

me on my way to the parking lot, I

15:43

reconsidered. That night,

15:45

I debated it the pros and

15:48

the cons to try to come up with

15:50

another solution, but none

15:52

came to mind, and the thought of seeing

15:54

him every day for the rest of my life,

15:57

ruining the piece I had created for myself

15:59

was too much to bear. For

16:02

the sake of my family, my Chris and my little

16:04

Kevin. I knew what I had to do. It

16:07

was time to go back to Lighthouse. Lighthouse

16:16

will return after these messages,

16:23

and now back to Lighthouse.

16:33

The road back to Lighthouse was not an

16:35

easy one. Though only a few hundred

16:37

miles from my new home, the drive was long

16:39

and arduous. My car, usually

16:42

reliable in all conditions, broke

16:44

down along the turnpike on my journey there.

16:46

The repairs were going to take a few days, so

16:49

I left it with a mechanic and took a loaner

16:51

for the rest of the route. The loner

16:53

was not nearly as reliable as my car

16:56

and was prone to overheating. I had

16:58

to refill the water and let it cooled down every

17:00

few hours. The stopping and

17:02

starting was grating on my nerves. I

17:05

was anxious to just get there, already

17:07

to be done with my visit, but

17:10

vehicles were not making it any easier on

17:12

me, nor was my family.

17:15

I called my mother before I left, letting

17:17

her know that I was coming for a visit. She

17:20

was cold over the phone, uninterested

17:22

in hearing from her eldest daughter, but

17:24

agreeing to let me stop by. She

17:27

hung up before I had the chance to tell

17:29

her when I would get there. I guess

17:31

it was going to be a surprise. By

17:33

the time I pulled into the driveway, the car

17:36

was on its last legs. Smoke was

17:38

billowing from beneath the hood, and rather than

17:40

attempting to make it the last half mile to the

17:42

house, I just pulled over and left it there,

17:45

lighthouse looming in the not so far

17:47

distance, I walked toward

17:49

it slowly, apprehension taking

17:51

hold of me. Ten years

17:53

had passed since I had last seen the house,

17:56

but from the way things looked, it may

17:58

as well have been fifty. The grounds

18:00

of the house were in disarray, the great lawn

18:03

filled with tall weaves and neglect. The

18:05

red oak tree out front, though still a

18:07

massive presence, was dying, its

18:09

withered branches twisting downward.

18:12

A lighthouse still stood on the bluff,

18:15

a dark shape against the gray sky. The

18:17

house itself was no better, with peeling

18:19

paint at every corner and loose shutters

18:22

hanging off their hinges. If I hadn't

18:24

known any better, I would have thought it to be abandoned.

18:27

The house finely reflected what I had always

18:29

thought of it, rotten and neglected.

18:32

When I reached the porch. The steps

18:35

creaked underneath me, and I held

18:37

my breath. I wasn't ready to face

18:39

my family or whatever waited for me in lighthouse.

18:42

I had no choice. I was already

18:44

there. I knocked on the door before

18:47

I lost more of my nerve and waited.

18:50

It was an unusually long time of

18:52

no one answering before I knocked again. I

18:55

was a bit nervous that something was wrong, that

18:57

something had happened to my mother or to Leini.

19:00

But the second knock did the trick. Beyond

19:02

the door, I heard some muffled cursing

19:05

as someone struggled to unlock it. When

19:07

the door screeched open, I was

19:09

surprised to find an older woman in a wheelchair

19:12

that I did not recognize answering it.

19:14

It wasn't until she spoke that I realized

19:16

that this was in a stranger But

19:19

my mother aged as much as the house

19:21

itself. I was taken

19:23

aback and couldn't respond to her first

19:25

inquiry, having missed it completely, But

19:28

her second, more forceful and angrier,

19:30

brought me back to reality. What

19:33

do you want, she growled, ready

19:35

to close the door in my face. Mom,

19:38

it's me, It's Tara. She

19:41

gave me a lingering once over, but instead

19:43

of responding, she just rolled backward

19:46

away from the door and into the bowels

19:48

of the house. I took that as my

19:50

unspoken invitation to come in. I

19:52

pushed the door open, standing on the threshold

19:55

between my old life and my new I

19:57

hesitated before stepping in, realizing

20:00

that I still had a choice. But

20:02

the second I went in, the choice was

20:04

made. Instantly,

20:06

my body tensed, and I felt that dread

20:09

long since forgotten wash over me again.

20:12

I imagined the man in the hat behind me, placing

20:15

his hands on my shoulders, says a welcome

20:17

home gesture. I shivered.

20:20

Close the goddamn door. You're

20:23

letting the air in. Came my mother's

20:25

voice from the other room. I did

20:27

as she commanded and slowly walked after

20:29

her. Being back in Lighthouse

20:31

was worse than I had imagined. Every

20:34

negative emotion I had toward it was

20:36

amplified, and every voice in

20:38

my head rang out, begging me to leave.

20:41

But I was back, and it's uninviting embrace,

20:44

and I got the sense it was all too happy to

20:46

see me. Following my mother's

20:48

voice through the house, I walked past my father's

20:51

study, the door was shut, and

20:53

what part of me wanted to look inside, the

20:55

other part demanded I stay far away.

20:59

I was struck by the lack of lighting fixtures

21:01

being used. Instead, candles

21:03

lined the hallways, both on the floor

21:06

and furniture. They're melted wax, making

21:08

it look like one big altar. The

21:10

rooms I passed looked like more of the same.

21:13

Perhaps the electric bill was too high to

21:15

keep the room slight. Eventually I

21:17

found her in the library. She had rolled

21:19

into the center of the room, cigarette in hand,

21:22

sending puffs of smoke into the air. She

21:24

stared hard at me, but wouldn't

21:26

break the silence on her own. It's

21:29

good to see you, I told her, trying

21:31

to be friendly. She was my mother,

21:34

after all, and though it had been some time since

21:36

we had seen each other, let alone spoken,

21:38

I still loved her. Her icy

21:41

demeanor chilled the room, sending a shiver

21:43

through me, which was a welcome countermeasure

21:45

to the sweat I had broken out into. Why

21:48

are you here, tera, she asked

21:50

me, her eyes never leaving me. I

21:53

was unsure how to respond to her, as

21:55

what I really wanted to say would not be something

21:57

she wanted to hear. Thanks Lee

22:00

A voice from above saved me. She's

22:03

family, Mother, said, my sister,

22:05

who was sitting on the spiral staircase previously

22:08

unnoticed. She missed us. Leni

22:11

stood, looking down at me with a warm smile.

22:14

Hello, Leny, it's so good

22:16

to see you, I told her, and

22:19

I actually meant it. I hadn't seen

22:21

my sister in far too long, and

22:23

I was so glad. She was happy I was here.

22:26

She limped down the stairs and ran as best as

22:28

she could across the room to hug me. I'm

22:30

so glad you're home, she exclaimed,

22:33

I've missed you. She was wearing

22:35

a nightgown, I noticed, even though it was

22:37

close to too in the afternoon. But it

22:39

was Saturday, so who was I to judge

22:41

her for having a lazy day. However,

22:43

more concerning was that clutched in her

22:46

hand. Was Abigail still

22:48

around after all these years? Mother?

22:50

Don't you want to give Tara a hug? She said?

22:53

My mother merely grunted in response,

22:55

but Leni pushed me toward her anyway.

22:58

I embraced her, though it is very

23:00

one sided. Her fingers barely

23:02

grace my back, more an act of courtesy

23:05

than one of love. In that close

23:07

proximity to her, I realized

23:09

she wreaked of alcohol. Oh

23:12

we will have so much fun, LEONEI

23:14

continued. We can play games

23:16

and have a tea party and do all sorts of

23:18

things again now that you're home. I

23:21

smiled weakly in response, realizing

23:23

how badly she had regretted since the incident

23:26

with my father, I was certain she did

23:28

not have much of a life beyond the walls

23:30

of Lighthouse. She continued on,

23:32

I will make up your old bed and we

23:34

can go out to the garden to see I'm

23:37

not staying, Leonie, I interrupted

23:39

her. I'm just here for a quick visit. My

23:42

mother grunted in response. Ten

23:44

years you abandon us. I should

23:46

expect nothing less. Mother,

23:49

Leanie said, I'm sorry, Tara. She

23:51

doesn't mean it. We're just happy

23:54

for whatever time you spend with us.

23:56

She smiled, but I could see the hurt

23:59

behind it. I don't want to be any

24:01

bother, I told them, I

24:03

will just I came to

24:05

see something. I will be out

24:07

of your hair soon. My mother flicked

24:09

her cigarette into a nearby ashtray and

24:12

rolled her way out of the room. Mary a look

24:14

in my direction. I heard the mechanical

24:16

whir of the chair lift a moment later, something

24:19

that we had installed shortly after my mother

24:21

was confined to the chair so she could still

24:23

go up and down the stairs. Don't

24:26

mind her, LENI told me, come

24:28

sit with me. What did you come to see?

24:30

Abigail said, she miss you too. Leni

24:33

grabbed my arms and pulled me down onto the couch

24:35

next to her, like a teenage girl waiting for the

24:37

latest gossip. I ignored her Abigail

24:40

comment, avoiding the bear's dead eye gaze

24:42

as it made me uncomfortable. Lenie,

24:46

I began, have you I

24:48

trailed off there because a grown woman asking

24:50

another grown woman if she still sees ghosts

24:53

seemed ridiculous to me. I

24:55

waited a moment to collect my thoughts and started

24:57

again, Do you still,

25:00

mhm see things? She

25:03

tilted her head to the side as if confused

25:05

by my question. The things

25:07

that live in the house. I mean like

25:10

Abigail, she said, smiling again.

25:13

Abigail is my best friend. I

25:16

mean more like other things.

25:18

I said, like the man in the

25:20

hat. Oh, she

25:22

replied, her smile turning into

25:24

a frown. We don't like him.

25:27

I saw him, I told her. At

25:30

home, My my home, with my son at

25:32

the park and then a few other places

25:34

as well. You have a son, she

25:36

interrupted me, I have a nephew.

25:39

I sent you a letter about it with some photos. Oh,

25:43

she said, her eyes cast downward. Mother

25:45

doesn't let me read much mail. I

25:48

was about to say something else, to apologize

25:50

even and question just what my mother thought

25:53

she was doing keeping things from my sister,

25:55

but Lenny had other ideas. Do

25:58

you want to see something, she her

26:00

face lighting up again. Come with me.

26:03

She grabbed my arm again and pulled me out

26:05

of the room. She dragged me through the

26:07

dining room and into the kitchen. She guided

26:09

me toward the pantry, and I realized

26:11

where we were going. I tried to pull

26:13

back to stop our progress, but Lenny

26:16

was unnaturally strong. There

26:18

was no stopping her, no question where

26:20

she was taking me. We were going

26:22

down to the basement, and inevitably

26:25

to the dark room.

26:33

Lighthouse were returned after a word

26:35

from our sponsors, and

26:41

now Lighthouse continues like

26:50

a prisoner being led to his execution. I

26:53

followed my sister, using a candle to guide

26:55

her path down into the depths of the basement,

26:58

through the maze of discarded junk, toward

27:00

the dark room. I stopped

27:02

short just before the doorway. As Leni

27:04

crouched to get inside, I

27:06

froze and thought of the last time

27:08

I set foot inside. So dark,

27:11

my imagination filled in the gaps, forming

27:13

a dark brown stain in the dirt where my

27:15

father took his final breath. Lenie

27:18

pulled the chain and the darkness was eliminated

27:20

by the red light. Looking inside,

27:23

nothing had changed. It

27:25

was still as small as ever, more

27:27

so now that I was older. The shelf

27:29

was still filled with old chemicals and photo

27:31

albums. The work bench was

27:34

still there, standing guard. But

27:36

I also noticed a few more things discarded,

27:39

food containers, books, a flashlight,

27:42

and a blanket and a pillow. Despite

27:45

everything that had happened, Lenie

27:47

was still coming down here. This

27:49

room, with its horrific memories

27:51

and oppressed feelings, was still

27:54

her safe haven. In a way,

27:56

it made sense. My mother, as

27:58

she became more and were bitter as

28:00

the years went on, could not make her way

28:03

down the stairs in her wheelchair. LENI

28:05

was safe from her here. I didn't

28:08

want to go in, but Lenie waved

28:10

me inside hesitantly. I

28:12

crouched down and stepped through the doorway. It

28:15

was cramped with both of us in there, but she

28:17

didn't seem to mind. She placed Abigail

28:20

on her candle on the workbench before disappearing.

28:22

Underneath here, too

28:25

were puddles of melted wax covering

28:27

those surfaces, the work bench,

28:30

the shelf, and even the ground.

28:33

I heard her rustling around, as if

28:35

looking for something. My heart dropped

28:37

for a moment, thinking that perhaps the knife,

28:39

the one that had killed my father, was still hidden

28:42

under there. That was silly, of

28:44

course, because the police had taken that

28:46

as evidence long ago. Still

28:48

the idea persisted, and I took

28:50

a cautionary step back as Leni crawled

28:53

out from beneath it. In her hands

28:56

was an old cardboard box. She

28:59

placed it on the work bench before blowing off

29:01

a cloud of dust. She presented

29:03

it to me with a flourish giggling,

29:05

like a child proud of her work. I

29:08

was unsure of what it was, and

29:10

told her as much. She seemed

29:12

almost disappointed that I didn't know, so she

29:15

opened the box and pulled out something from inside,

29:18

a reel to reel tape recorder. It

29:21

was ancient, looking, like something out of the nineteen

29:23

thirties. I would have been surprised

29:26

if it even worked, but Leney,

29:28

still giggling, placed it on the bench

29:31

and searched through the box again. This

29:33

time she pulled out some metal canisters.

29:36

She handed one over to me, and I read the label

29:39

August and September ninety.

29:43

I opened it and found a real spooled

29:45

up inside. What are these,

29:48

I asked her, and she smiled, history,

29:52

she replied, of the house Abigail

29:55

found them, Ignoring her,

29:57

Abigail comment, I studied the real

29:59

in my hand and my mind racing about

30:01

its contents. This was exactly

30:03

what Jan was talking about. This could

30:06

help me find out more about my father's family.

30:08

What did they reveal? What revelations

30:11

did they contain? Have you

30:13

listened? I asked her. A

30:15

few, she replied, I

30:17

got bored, but some of them didn't

30:20

work too Scratchy couldn't make

30:22

out the recordings, but this one,

30:24

she pointed to, the one in my hands. I

30:27

didn't listen to it yet, Abigail

30:29

said I should wait for you. I

30:31

was scared, scared of what the

30:33

tape contained, scared of listening

30:36

to it in the dark room, and scared

30:38

as to why Abigail wanted Leni

30:40

to wait for me. I felt on

30:42

the verge of going mad, and I wanted to suggest

30:45

that we take the player, or the tapes

30:47

and the whole house and just burn

30:49

it to the ground. But then Leni

30:51

took my hand and smiled. I

30:54

nodded and handed the reel back to

30:56

her as she delicately removed

30:58

it from the canister and loaded it

31:00

into the player. It's screeched

31:03

to life. It's antique, motorized,

31:05

insides groaning after so many

31:07

years of disuse. The tape

31:10

scratched, and for an instant I

31:12

was sure it wouldn't play. But

31:14

then a voice sprung forth from it,

31:17

startling us both there

31:21

in the dim red glow of the dark room.

31:24

We listened intently as he revealed

31:26

a secret that Lighthouse had kept

31:28

for many, many years. This

31:35

is Dr Albright. The

31:38

data is August

31:40

the time christ I don't even

31:42

know what time it is. These

31:44

are my final notes for Patient three two,

31:47

File zero three to one.

31:52

When I became a doctor, I

31:54

took an oath, one that made

31:56

me swear to help those in need. And

31:59

I can't help but feel like

32:01

I failed here, that that

32:03

we we did something wrong, that

32:06

this will be a stain on my

32:08

soul for the rest of my life. Every

32:12

time I closed my eyes, I can I can see

32:14

her, I can hear or screams

32:17

or or please for help. Did

32:20

we make the right decision? I

32:23

thought so at first, but now I don't

32:25

know. She was she

32:29

was so young. Lighthouse

32:57

is a production of I Heart Radio in

32:59

Bamford produc Auctions. Chapter

33:01

five featured the voice of Ali Trasher,

33:04

written and directed by Jeff Himbuck,

33:07

audio engineering, an original musical

33:10

score by Corey Celeste. Production

33:12

assistance by Alex Gona. Executive

33:15

produced by Holly Fry.

33:18

Questions comments, you

33:20

can reach us at the Man in the Hat is

33:22

Watching at gmail dot com.

33:24

Thank you for listening.