JESS: Somewhere, the wind kicks up a swirl of dust and dry leaves. Somewhere, a clap of thunder echoes from a distant storm. Somewhere, a dog barks in the distance. Somewhere, there is a deep and foul note of some smell you can’t quite place. 

[THEME MUSIC] 

Happy -almost- halloween, all residents of Braedon, corporeal and otherwise! We are now nine days away! It often catches me off guard- you know, celebrating halloween a day earlier than the rest of the western world- and while I won’t pretend to understand the reason why we celebrate early, I can attest to the fact it in no way detracts from the festivities or holiday spirit. 

When you’re out there trick or treating and just, having a grand ol spooky time, remember to exit graveyards the same way you entered, lest you wish to take passengers. 

Later on, we’ll have some more tips and tricks for parents on how to have a safe and happy halloween with your children. Lets try for minimal to no casualties this year, folks! I’m optimistic we can do it. 

Before we get into our first story today, we here at the studio would just like to say thank you to the very kind individual who donated a plush little bed for James. You didn’t leave a note or any clues to your identity, and I’m not really sure how you got into the studio after hours, but we wanted you to know your kindness has not gone unappreciated. 

James loves her new bed. 

I’d post a picture of her with it on the station twitter account if James showed up in pictures, but she doesn’t, so…  Just take my word for it. She’s sleeping on it right now, in the breakroom, and she loves it. 

*transition* 

Our first story today comes to us from Ole Miss Betty Miller, who says that Elizabeth Shaw, or “Lizzie” as she is more commonly called, and her ‘posse’ of youth consisting of Amanda Dayworth, Sampson Roteman, and usually Elliot Housely (who is still missing,) went into a nearby city this morning for a day trip. When they returned, Betty says, Lizzie had a lip piercing, and she can only assume the others have, in some way and in her words, permanently ruined their bodies. 

I have to say, just quickly and off script here folks, that sure, tattoos and piercings are certainly a bold and shocking choice, but are a personal, artistic one. They are a form of expression that you of course don’t have to like, but aren’t you tired of judging people by their appearances? 

After all, Martha has tattoos, and she’s a respected community member. I think. 

And I have tattoos. I’m not claiming to be a respected member of the community. But I do. Many, mysterious tattoos I have no recollection of getting. 

I have one behind my ear that whispers things in a language I don’t understand.

While we’re talking about this, I also have one, it’s this… symbol, shaped sort of like uh- hm. Like an uppercase X.. combined with, like that @ symbol, like the A and the circle sort of thing? And a plus sign, cross through the middle of it.  It is drawn with clear, scratched lines, and I woke up on the floor of my trailer one morning with it in the middle of my forearm. 

If anyone else also mysteriously received a similar tattoo, call me. We should talk.

*music* 

We’ve been asked to address some rumours spreading around the community by the school board. I have here a statement from school superintendent, Dana Smith, to read for you: 

(CLEARS THROAT) “In regards to the conjecture that Mr. Reicher, the middle school math teacher, is secretly a vampire, or vampire-like being, we’d like to formally go on record to say that is simply not true. 

David Reicher’s background is no secret to any of us administrators nor any of his coworkers. It was disclosed during his interview, but we do not believe it has had or will have any negative affect on his ability to educate your children. 

Besides, do you know how difficult it is to find someone willing to teach trigonometry to teenagers?”

*A NOISE*

Folks- there’s- it sounds like there’s someone knocking at the studio window… Martha, Martha’s gonna go check on what it is. It’s probably just a woodpecker or something. Happens to me at home all the time. 

They’ve learned that they can make more noise when drilling their beaks against the tin roof of my trailer and, anyways. Back to the program. Apologies for the interruption.

*music* 

And now, parents, here are some tips to ensure your halloween goes as safely and smoothly as possible for you and your children: 

-Trick or treat in familiar neighbourhoods. Which, in a town this size, is all of them. But if for whatever reason there is suddenly a house you don’t recognize, and could’ve sworn you’d never seen before, it's probably best to just move along. 

-Refresh your children on the rules of the roads before you leave your home.

-Ignore the homeless man by the pond. He is not homeless, nor is he a man. Do not let him drag you into the pond. We do not have a pond in town.

-Placing strips of reflective tape on the fronts and backs of your children’s disguises is a great way to ensure they are easy targets or prey. Don’t do it.

-Don’t be deceived by the haze in the air. It isn’t fog. Do not be afraid of it either. It will feed on your fear.

-Try to avoid costumes with masks, to simplify the identification process, and encourage your children to select a different being to impersonate. However, if your children are under the weather, ignore this tip! We’d even go so far as to say encourage your children to wear a costume with a mask- or even add a mask to a maskless costume! Masks save lives when it comes to the prevention of spreading contagious diseases. Like, the flu, of course. 

-When the silence gets heavy, and the wind in the trees goes quiet, pack up and move along to the next block. Something is coming, and for the sake of your children and your sanity, you do not want to be there when it arrives. 

-Let the twilight breeze cool the tears on your cheeks and soothe the burning ache of grief under your skin. 

-And most importantly, have fun!

*transition* 

Another recently reported SW sighting- standing for Shunka Warak’in respectively- brings us up to 15 sightings this year… unofficially, of course. The RCMP have once again released a statement saying, officially, the numbers are still zero. Of course the Shunka Warak’in, a hyena-like creature that may or may not be a remnant of some prehistoric dog that stalked these lands long before any of us got here, does not exist. 

If people were seeing anything, Mountie John continued in his address, perhaps it’s Farmer Daniels’ “dog” loose again? 

Note, dear listeners, that John gestured with the “air quotations” gesture when he said dog. Anyone who knows farmer Daniels and his dog, will understand. I’m not sure which of the two options is scarier. 

But Mountie John didn't seem worried, so I’m sure there’s no reason to be, though it might be a good idea for farmers to think about-

*WEIRD NOISE, SCREECHING AND SCRATCHING INTERFERENCE*

Hey, Martha? What was that noise? Did you catch it in there? Martha? What’s wrong with the lights? Sorry, folks, because we don’t have any other employees anymore I gotta go see what’s going on. The lights keep flickering, and Martha’s not answering me. While I do, here’s a quick message from… somebody. 

Listeners, I have a somewhat concerning development: 

Martha is… gone. 

She’s not in the booth. 

Come to think of it, I’m not sure if she was there when I got here. I mean- I think she was. I’m sure she was. I mean, I was running late and I only had time to see a- a dark, person-coloured mass in my peripheral that I waved too through the window… I mean I didn’t have any reason to think it wouldn’t be her… 

It was her. I’m sure it was her. She has a very distinct presence. She was here then. I saw her, I’m sure I saw her… But, oh: she- she never came back from checking that noise… 

I’m sure it's fine, right? I mean, she would’ve called me if there was a problem, right? 

The lights are still flickering. And a sage leaf has just fallen on my desk in front of me here- a sign from Town Council that I must return to the program- but, Martha, if you can hear this, please contact the station somehow and let me know you’re okay. Or, not okay. 

*transition* 

Speaking of Farmer Daniels, he has announced his corn maze opens Halloween night, and will remain open until the snow comes- which, really, could be any day. 

When asked why he hasn’t prepared to harvest his crop yet, he laughed, and said “well, of course you don’t eat corn like this. It ain’t good until it's all fallen and rotted in the dirt- at least a week.” Which, yeah, once he said it, it was obvious. I was like “duh, of course.” I mean, I’m not a corn farmer. I wouldn’t know the nuances of harvesting it. 

But, now that I’m thinking about it folks, I don’t remember old Daniels ever harvesting a corn crop before. Let alone growing one. But there’s a first time for everything! And corn is a pretty common crop out here. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. 

Individual admission to the corn maze is $5, or $2 if you bring a perishable food item. I thought that was a mistake too, so I double checked, and no, they are collecting donations of perishable foods to feed the fields with after the harvest. 

A word of advice to those who choose to get lost among those tall, looming stalks of corn: 

Be cautious, my childhood friend went missing in a corn maze on halloween night, many years ago. All that was left of him was the red glow stick he carried, the colour of luminous blood, sitting on the soil, the imprints of his shoes still fresh in the dirt.

*transition* 

Here’s a fun little riddle for you this week: 

What am I? What are you? Where are you? Are you really here? How do you know? Are your senses, which no one else can experience, an acceptable basis for a mutual understanding of truth? Is all that exists only what you can interact with? Do I exist when you don’t hear my voice on the radio? 

Email us, or tweet us your answers @nowhereonair. 

*transition*

Well, listeners, as you can tell from my voice there is absolutely nothing wrong! During that little break, amidst the flickering lights, we uh, we got a visitor! A visitor of a, uh, unexpected and otherworldly nature. Not aliens! I realized how that sounded and I am contractually obligated to remind you aliens are not real, so kindly consider yourselves reminded that aliens are not real. But I am currently looking at a familiar face I did not expect to see. 

Treena. Treena McGarrick. Standing in front of my desk. 

Treena who’s been missing for over a month after what was not a dinosaur attack and presumed dead after statements released by Town Council. To the friends and family of Treena McGarrick, I can say with some confidence… she is. I think she is dead. I am staring into her eyes, and she seems… not here, softer. But… there is a peace in the room. She is glowing, but not glowing. And she is smiling. I think she can hear me, she won’t say anything, but she is smiling. She looks… happy. Content. 

Wait… I’m- I’m getting words. She’s not saying anything but I think she’s communicating with me. Somehow. 

Love-- I love you. To her friends and family she says I love you. 

And I’m getting something else…

Elliot. Martha… Martha? What about Martha? Do you know where she is? Is she okay? Is she with Elliot? Is Elliot okay? Have you seen him? 

Treena? Treena, wait! Please, don’t go! 

*silence, almost like Jess was crying a little:*

Well, listeners. That was a… *sighs.* 

There’s still no sign of Martha and I will admit my concern is growing every minute that passes with no sign or contact. That noise, the one that drew her away, hasn’t returned for quite some time. Please, contact the station if you have any info you think might be helpfu-

*sounds- door, shuffling* 

This seems to be a strangely common theme tonight, listeners, but we have another visitor in the studio. Using my knowledge of the identifying criteria we were all to familiarize ourselves with, I believe it is a member of The Faceless, that out of town group we’ve been hosting for some time now. 

And Martha. Martha is with him. Martha is back, and judging by her external appearance, she is okay- physically at least, I can’t speak to the look in her eyes, but, she’s back. 

*slight relieved giggle* 

If there was a member of some secret society in this room who was responsible for returning my producer and best friend, I might say something like, “thank you. Your kindness does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.” He may or may not be nodding in return. 

*shuffling, door close. Adjusts* 

Well, folks. I admit I don’t really know what to say. We’re getting pretty close to the end of our show here; and I also admit I am eager to speak to Martha about where she was, what happened, and what that noise was. Judging by the look she’s giving me, I don’t think I’m going to like the answer. 

However, before we sign off, I would like to offer my condolences to the McGarrick family, and anyone who knew Treena. I know what it is like to lose, and I know loss is never kind to anyone. There are very few things that can soothe that kind of ache. 

There's solidarity in grief. Only people who have lost truly understand the burning weight of it. I am sending love to all those listening who may have lost someone you’ll spend your life looking for but never really find again. It is perhaps the worst kind of knowing, to know first hand that the light of those we love will fade and cease to be. Like meteorites burning up in the atmosphere. Like a small flame against a persistent wind. 

But I think, as Treena showed us today, they linger on. In little ways. Stardust. The smell of smoke. 

Memories. Maybe that’s all ghosts really are. 

Memories, lingering. 

If that’s the case, they seem a lot less scary now, wouldn’t you agree? 

From both of us here at the station, Happy Halloween, safe travels, and sweet memories. 

Thanks for tuning in.