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The commercial faded out, the almost hypnotic quality of the music discordant with the two hosts— oblivious to the live air into which they were speaking.
“—I know if I just—“
“Ben, I honestly could not give less of a fuck about talking to—“
“Okay, okay, what’s your great solution then, Samuel?”
A pause. “Low blow with the full name, man.” A shift in tone before a clearing of a throat. “And we’re back from commercial. I’m your host, Sammy Stevens, here with super producer, Ben, ‘maybe Star Trek wasn’t too far off with evil bearded mirror universes,’ Arnold.
“We’re King Falls AM, 660 on your radio dial, and tonight we are talking about the sudden appearance—“
“—and subsequent disappearance—“
“Right you are, Ben, because why should we ever get tangible answers in this, the God-forgotten town of King Falls. And subsequent disappearance of what can only be described as a horrible nightmare of an alternate universe where paisley had never gone out of style. Our, I’ll call them doubles for ease, doubles popped right up here in-studio.”
“There’s no universe in which we aren’t here with you lovely folks during your peak insomnia hours here in lovely King Falls.”
“The multiverse is immutable and we are always where we need to be,” The tell-tale rustle of a shift in a roller chair, “but that’s not what we want your calls to be about. So give us a ring and if you had a paisley-clad double visit you this evening, we would love to hear about it. You’ve heard from us, and now we’d love to hear from you.”
“And we got a couple already holding on the line. I’m Ben Arnold, and you’re on with King Falls AM.”
***
“King Falls, tonight’s first topic is one of the, I believe, easiest ones we have ever asked for your input on. I’m going to lay out a hypothetical situation and all we need in return is your input on the scenario, and what you might do in a similar situation.”
“Sammy, come on, do we really have to put this out there?”
“Are you attempting to imply this is something other than an exercise in thought? Because I thought I was clear in saying it was hypothetical.”
“Sammy—“
A suck of air through clenched teeth cut off the rest of the statement.
“So imagine a hypothetical, if you will, wherein someone puts both their implicit and explicit trust in another person. Like, every ounce of trust ever; like, ‘I absolutely would jump off of a cliff if you asked me to because there’s probably a damn good reason for it’ type of trust. And then it is revealed, in the course of a singular phone call, that it’s all a lie and the walls of trust—“
“Walls of trust, really?”
“— are torn asunder by perfidy. Suddenly everything you thought you knew is shrouded in deception and you realize that there was no reason to jump off of the cliff.”
“Oh, okay; okay, Sammy, I see how it’s going to play— well, if we’re doing hypotheticals about trust, then I have one as well.”
“No, this is the first topic, it’s already been called and the lights are on the phones. Line four, you’re on with King Falls AM, what’s your story?”
“Hey Sammy, hey Ben.”
“Troy! Good to hear from you, buddy, you have input on our first hour topic?”
“Nothing regarding specifics, boys, just some general concern. You both sound a mite tetchy, I’m sure I’m not the only listener whose noticed, and as your friend I’m worried about you. The both of you. I’m thinking maybe you should take an extended commercial break and talk it out, how does that sound? I’m not a big fan of hearing y’all fight over the radio, I can listen to fights whenever I go down to county.”
A laugh from over the line and confused silence from the hosts. “That’s a bad prison joke, sorry boys.” Humor faded from the voice on the other end. “I’m serious though, you two need to get your act together or tonight’s ratings might be lower than usual.”
“Thanks for the sound advice, as always, Troy; I’ll make sure to get Sammy to see reason.”
“Me to see reason? Me to see reason? Oh man, if you could only hear how sanctimonious you sound right now—“
The voice faded to nothing as a commercial overtook the airwaves.
***
“—so that’s when I decided that the only thing I could do was turn around.”The pause was almost sickening in its length. “And there it was.”
“The chupacabra was in your kitchen?”
“What? No, what would a chupacabra want with my kitchen? It’s a kitchen. The thing is, my sink apparition, Sammy, it showed up again.”
A beat of stunned dead air.
“Your sink apparition? Jack-in-the-box Jesus, Doyle, we asked you before you even started your story if it was about the chupacabra and you said yes.”
“Ben, would you have listened to my story if I had told the truth?”
There was a dull thump and a frustrated groan.
“Thanks for your call, Doyle, I’m sure we’ll hear from you again soon. Next call is from lucky line seven; this is King Falls AM, what’s your story?”
“From shadow’d corners whence they came/ Sought a rune’d facsimile of the Begotten/ A seeker from a peoples long past/ Ephemeral oracles fraught with blindness/ Away from time and space they wander/ And grasp for language undead.”
“Second prophecy this week, might be a record.”
“Do you think we just hallucinated this chupacabra, or is it an off-topic day in the studio?”
“Well, I saw it too, Sammy, so I think we’re good on that front.”
“The one good thing about having you here. One small, infinitesimal thing in the miasma of treachery in which we otherwise reside.”
“One day, Sammy Stevens, you will see the truth and apologize to me.”
“I sincerely doubt that, Ben. Line three, please tell me you have something chupacabra related.”
***
“I’m Ben, it’s 3.44, and you’re listening to King Falls AM. I apologize for the abrupt commercial break, but I had to have a conversation about besmirching a man’s journalistic integrity when he’s not even here to defend himself, with my good friend Howard Ford Beauregard III. And let me tell you, for anyone else who might be taking Sammy’s absence as a free-for-all to talk shit about him, I will not have it. So, keep that in mind while we continue with our open mic night— anything you think is weird, cool, or just a plain old King Falls specialty, call in with you story.
“Phone two, you’re on the line.”
Staccato-ed coughing and a harsh intake. “I have more journalistic integrity in my pinky finger than Beauregard has had in his entire life— and afterlife.”
“Sammy, turn off the radio and go to sleep.”
“No, I have to defend myself, especially if—“ muffled hacking, “— if they’re too chicken-shit to say it when I’m in the studio.”
“I’d say this is the exact opposite time of when you’d want to defend yourself, Sammy, and let someone else defend you. It says something that they won’t say that to your face— well, your voice, and it’s this kind of pettiness that I’m happy to take care of, especially when you’re sick.”
A few wet breaths felt static, before a pocket of white noise indicated a weary sigh.
“Thank you, Ben. I’m gonna go to sleep.”
“Goodnight Sammy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
***
“It gazed at me and I knew it was searching for what I did not have, what I could never have, but it thought I must have. It grinned a smile that was not a smile at all, but a gnashing of teeth and gums presented in such a way that I could not help the fissure of terror that consumed me for a moment that seemed so long I felt the cosmos shift around me, through me, and become me. I broke its gaze and no time had passed at all before I stumbled away, feeling its grin widen and overtake me, wracking my nerves with a knowledge I did not want to know, a knowledge that is far removed and arcane, but present in all forms of space.”
“And what knowledge is that?”
A harsh laugh.
“You’ve said it before, Sammy, and many people have heard it over time: ‘we are always where we need to be.’
“I’ll call in next time I’m in range.”
“Thank you, Keisha, we’ll hear from you soon. Skillful driving.”
“Line four, let’s discuss how we’re now all recipients of a great and terrible knowledge.”
“She was not the only one taken home that night, but she is the only one to come back.”
“What? Who’s back— are you talking about—?”
The line clicked and the dial tone took over.
“All lines are black.”
“Sammy, we need to get that woman back on the line—“
“Hold up; line six, you’re on King Falls AM.”
A soft intake of breath. “Hi, Sammy, hi, Benny.”
***
“I don’t know why you’re still angry with me, Emily’s back, everything’s fine.”
A bark that should have been scornful laughter but only achieved strangled bitterness.
“Nothing is fine, Ben. Nothing has been fine for awhile.”
“Sammy, do you want to go to—“
“No. You started this on air months ago, so we’re going to finish this on air. We’re going to finish this now, let everyone listening know how fine all of this is.”
“Sammy—“
“Screw you, man. You don’t trust me, you have never trusted me, not for anything, and you turn around and talk to me like none of it matters? Like I’m in the wrong for your problems, all the while lying to my face, grinning and joking and making me think that we’re in this together as you calculate your every word so I don’t suspect. Let’s just lie to Sammy, it’s not like it’ll be a blow to his self-esteem or emotional psyche once he finds out, and even if it is, it’s not like I even care.”
Ragged exhalations.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh fucking give me a break. ‘You have to keep poking at this, I can’t without him knowing I picked up a new lead… No, I can’t trust him, so you’re going to have to be quiet about it.’ I could go on, you know, if you’d like.”
“It’s not like—“
“Isn’t it, though?”
Static hissed through the dead air.
“You can’t even look at me.” Derisive, unflinching. “You make me wish I never came here.”
***
“It’s Tuesday night, I’m Sammy Stevens, and this is King Falls AM. I’m in my third hour, and I’m taking calls about the acute feeling of existential terror which roused half of the town from their beds this starless night. Looking at my numbers, I have to admit that this grip of awareness of the totality of the universe does good for one thing, this show’s ratings.
“Line one, what’d you wake to, what’s your story?”
“There was stars. Stars and then, in the distance, an inky black that hazed my vision and made me feel as though if I tipped over into it, I would finally be home.”
“Can you elaborate?”
A shuddered inhale.
“Emily, it’s okay, just breathe. Everyone’s a little jumpy tonight— just take your time and try to get your thoughts in order.”
“I was seeking home and I understood— I had the knowledge and I was given the runes. I was where I needed to be, I was on the journey home, and I could breathe, finally, for the first time in eons, in the shadow of the universe. I was away and now I am back, and I no longer understand, the language has been taken from me.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Emily.”
“I’m not sure either, Sammy.”
The pause ballooned.
“How is—?”
“I haven’t seen him. I don’t know if I want to see him. I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Yeah. Same. Well, thanks for your call, Emily, I’ll talk to you later?”
“You know it, Sammy. We’ll have breakfast after the show ends.”
***
“Within the veins, an answer they seek/ Solar winds guide a half-forgotten path/ Stumbling for home through time and ephemeral order/ Leaving softly, softly/ Immutable and divisive, the opacity lessens/ It will become knowledge once more.”
“Thank you, line three, I think I get it.” An audible groan. “Okay, Sammy, you can do this.
“King Falls, I have something of a confession for you. While not lying, I have been purposefully obfuscating some truths from you. Truths relating to my coming to King Falls.
“Um, Jack-in-the-box Jesus, this is awkward. I’ve been having this set of dreams since I was a kid. I could always remember most of them, but after awhile they would turn into more flashes and feelings than actual, tangible, dreams. These dreams, most of them, have always come true— I find myself in the same settings, ones I’ve only seen in my dreams, saying the same things and seeing the same people. It’s basically the weird cousin of déjà vu.
“I wasn’t meant to stay in King Falls, it was going to be a stop-over on my way to the coast— meticulously planned and penned and ready to go. I stopped at the gas station on the edge of town and when I pulled up the handle to start to fill the gas, the wind blew across my cheek. I looked up, the detritus and chill surrounding me, and I realized that this is where I had to be.
“I didn’t know why, I still don’t really know why— the dreams haven’t come in so long that they’re just flashes of scenes that I can never piece together, but I’ve been here, because I need to be. I need to be, but I don’t know if—
“I just don’t know. I’m tired.
“But we’re not here to only reminisce about me, what kind of morose bullshit would that be? Line six, talk to me.”
***
“— I looked into the shed, and that’s when I realized it was nothing more than the Williams’ boys.”
“Are you kidding me, Troy?”
“I wish I were, Sammy. I just thought I’d tell the folks at home not to worry, King Falls PD has taken care of the problem. Again, I’d like to state that the Bigfoot that has been stealing food and alcoholic beverage from bonfires is not an actual Bigfoot, it’s just the Williams boys in a Bigfoot costume they got from amazon.”
“You can buy anything these days.”
“Ain’t it something.”
“So, is there anything else that happened on your shift, Troy?”
“I see what you’re doing, Sammy, you’re trying to goad me into saying something about the disturbance on Parkside.”
“I would never do anything of the sort. I value and highly respect our friendship, Troy, and a tiny, insignificant piece of town gossip will do nothing to hinder that.”
“Fine, Sammy, just ‘cause you know how to flatter a man, I’ll tell you. So I was called to Parkside for a domestic and—
“Hold up, Sammy, I got someone knocking on my door like the devil’s on their heels.”
“Of course.”
The voice from the other end of the line far away, the receiver dropped down to waist-level.
“Ben Arnold, is that you? It’s been three weeks, where have you been? You look like death.”
“Where’s Sammy?” Hoarse, disused as a throat cleared. “I need to talk to Sammy.”
“Why he’s at the station, it’s four in the morning. Let me get you to a doctor, or at least come inside, let me take your temperature.”
“No. I have to go.”
A door shut.
“Didja get all that, Sammy?”
“Yeah, I did. Thanks for your call, Troy.”
“Of course. I’ll tell you about Parkside tomorrow. It’s a good story.”
***
“Welcome back, I’m Sammy Stevens, and this is King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the radio dial. Tonight’s discussion topic: the mysterious runes that have been popping up all over town and into the great woods and plains beyond, which all professionals have dated back to over 12,000 years ago. Why have we not seen these runes before this Monday, what are they for, and who wrote them? I’m here for your calls, so let’s take number four. Line four, what’s your story?”
“I understand again.”
“Emily? What do you understand?”
“I didn’t and then I saw. I saw because it was at my door, leading me until the knowledge came once more.”
A hitched inhale, relief.
“It is time. I needed to come back, I understand that now. I needed to be where I was— it was too soon. And now I am where I am, you are where you are, and we have always been where we need to be.”
“The multiverse is immutable.”
“Yes.”
“Does this have to do with my dreams? Why I’m here?”
“It has everything to do with everything, Sammy Stevens.” Soft, transcendent. “Your dreams, the runes, my disappearance, the being with the smiling, gnashing teeth, it’s all eternal. It’s all beyond understanding unless you have the language.”
“Emily—“
“You’re not to know, not fully. You are the veins, the vessel, in which the Seeker finds the knowledge.”
“What do you—?”
“You cannot leave King Falls. You’ve been thinking about it.” Light and airy once more, a gentle breeze. “I know you have been, Sammy. Please don’t.”
Paused, tense, two sets of breath matching subconsciously. “I won’t.”
“Good. I’m inviting Ben to breakfast with us. After you get off the air.”
“Okay. See you.”
“Bye, Sammy.”
***
“Line two, which frog-turned-man did you kiss tonight?”
“I have kissed no frog-men tonight, Sammy, but someone done lost theirs because one was snooping around my kennels earlier tonight. Let me tell you, it is easy being green when you blend into my begonias.”
“Archie, I didn’t know you had begonias.”
“I don’t, it was for the alliteration.”
“Well, it landed.”
“Of course it did. I called because I wanted to warn any frog-man, woman, or child that if they go anywhere my pomchis, I will shoot them with this colt .22 I just bought.”
“Why did you buy a gun?”
“Because people are trying to pooch my pups, Sammy!”
“Wow, you’re just going all out tonight, aren’t you?”
“I am upset. It is a nervous condition. And I have a ‘no trespassers’ sign for a gosh dang reason.”
“Can frog-men read though?”
“It’s no excuse, and definitely one that won’t hold up in a court of law.”
“Especially if you shoot them.”
“So no tax-payers dollars wasted. It’s a win-win for everyone involved.”
“Whatever you say, Archie.”
“Yes, thank you. Had Deputy Troy over earlier when someone heard the shots and he just didn’t get it. Some people, you know? And remember, if you want a cute pooch, come over to Archie’s Pomchi Palace, open Monday through Friday and weekends with an appointment.”
“I feel as though I should charge him for that ad.
“Line six, what’s your story?”
***
“Don’t hang up.”
“You disappeared for three weeks, didn’t come to talk to me when you sounded so urgent to do so over at Troy’s, and bailed on breakfast once you found out that I was going to be there— it wasn’t just Emily. Why shouldn’t I?”
“I know. I know, I do. You just— you fuck me up, Sammy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“I do. I really do; I was— I was messed up and freaking out and I handled it in the worst way possible.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Are you coming back to the studio any time soon?”
“Do you want me to?”
A wry chuckle. “I don’t know. You should. It’s weird doing this without you.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Do I have to?”
“I suppose not.” A clearing throat. “I really am sorry.”
“I know. I’m glad you’re safe.”
“I don’t know if I can say the same.”
“Ben— no matter what, I’m glad you’re safe and back here in King Falls.”
“I’m glad you stayed.”
“Yeah, well, it is hard to say no to Emily.”
“Hard to say it to you as well. I’ll be back in studio next week.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, Ben.”
“I’m at the diner. For breakfast. We can all catch up. Weirder things than usual lately.”
“Just another lovely night in King Falls.” A brief pause.
“And speaking of lovely nights, it’s time for me to sign off. I’m Sammy Stevens, this is King Falls AM, and next week, our indomitable producer Ben, ‘the three-week vanishing act’ Arnold will be back in studio. Remember to keep your eyes alert and your ears tuned into 660 AM on your radio dial.”