The CBS Radio Mystery Theater presents... Come
in. Welcome. I'm E .G. Marshall. A triptych is
defined in Webster's unabridged dictionary as
a picture or carving in three parts, side by
side, especially an altarpiece consisting of
a central panel and two flanking panels that
fold over it. Thus by definition it represents
a sacred figure, and usually three aspects of
that figure. This story concerns a triptych that
represents a wholly profane and baleful figure
in all its different aspects. You still think
I'm a candidate for the Nuthouse, Joan? Oh, Walt,
don't talk like that. By this weekend, we should
know who that woman is. If she is just your sweet
old great aunt, I'll crawl on my belly and apologize.
But if she's what I think she is, and she means
any harm to you or Kip, so help me. I'll murder
her first. Our mystery drama, Triptych for a
Witch, was written especially for the Mystery
Theatre by Ian Martin and stars Margaret Hamilton.
I'll be back shortly with Act One. In many cultures
the aged had a function and were treated with
reverence and respect. Less and less this is
true of the Occidental cultures. I enter no discussion
of whether this is right or wrong. Frequently
the elderly would prefer to be left alone to
pursue their own destinies. And yet when the
moment comes and some very ancient relative is
left alone, particularly a woman, Some atavistic
instinct, or is it just plain guilt, drives many
of us to open at least our homes, if not wholly
our hearts, to them. This is the story of two
such people. But may heaven protect you from
the strange and awful experience they unwittingly
laid themselves open to. Well, Joan. As the governor
of North Carolina said to that other guy, this
is just about it. Did I know my great -grandfather
was going to get married again just before he
died? Here I thought I was marrying an orphan.
Now I find out you tricked me. Oh, I just forgot
about Charlie. He's 60 years older than me. I
didn't even know he was still alive. But she
wrote such a sweet letter. There isn't anyone
else who's family. So at least I can do his help
out poor old Charlie's widow till she... finds
out what she's going to do. Okay, no sweat. How
old is old Charlie's widow, anyway? Search me.
Just before our wedding, when mother died, she
mentioned out of the blue that my great -grandfather
had suddenly married at the age of 82. Then you
came into my life, and every other thought I
ever had went out the window. Well, that's why
I'm so jealous of anyone horning in. Old Charlie
had a real eye for the ladies. The first three
times he married, only one of them wasn't young
enough to be his daughter. This one might turn
out to be young enough to be his granddaughter.
Well, I guess we're about to find out. Like you
said, this is it, for better or for worse. The
times you look back and would like to have bitten
your tongue for some crazy thing you blurt out.
Not that I knew right away. Matter of fact, when
we first spotted her... The old gal didn't look
so bad. Oh, she was no spring chicken. She was
old all right. With a little round face like
a withered apple that still had red cheeks and
sharp blue eyes that glittered like agates and
didn't miss a trick darting out from the shadows
of a wide brimmed hat with a conical crown. It
looked a little like it might have been left
over from Halloween. But for all her age, she
was spry. skipping along like a sandpiper with
a pet carrier in one hand and a carpet bag in
the other. Joan? I'm her. Your great -grandfather's
Hester. And this must be Walter. Oh, hello, dear.
How did you know us? Know you anywhere. Spitting
image of Charlie. Only prettier. Ah, yeah. Let
me take those heavy things from you. Oh, then.
Thanks. No problem. You can have the bag. I'll
hang on. The Smokey. He likes to stay real close.
Smokey? My cat. Oh. Shh. You're almost home again.
Just want to get Captain Jack out of my pocket
before he stirs up a reel. Some of the words
in there. It talks. Of course it talks. He's
a parrot. Well, a kind of parrot. Half moon,
they're called. You don't mind about smoking,
Captain Jack. There won't be any trouble. Of
course we don't mind. We're just a little surprised,
that's all. Doesn't that... bird need a cage
can't abide them he sits on my shoulder or a
perch I have for him in the carpet bag he won't
fly away can't flight feathers are clipped not
that he would anyways you mean you brought that
bird all the way from Minnesota in your coat
pocket course he sleeps there oh I take him out
when we change planes he was complaining he doesn't
really like to fly oh that's a switch well shall
we Get this show on the road. It's all kind of
comical to begin with. I mean, here I was, 23,
a rookie cop, just off probation after hitching
the Navy. And already I was married, had a kid.
And now I just inherited an aged great -grandmother.
Plus a cat and a talking parrot. Who needs it?
I started off easy, play it cool, just like Joan
and me agreed. No ties, except for getting married.
What's outside of that? Just hang loose, enjoy
being young, keep all the options open. And before
you know it, we're trapped. Where are we? Will
you climb off the ceiling, honey? What do you
want of me? It's crazy. The whole thing is crazy.
Aunt Hester, a cat that bites, and I'm not giving
you any line, but I think that half -baked parrot
is on something. You know, that's funny. You
know, you really object to her being here, don't
you? Oh, what about our vacation on the Cape?
Are we gonna have to lug her there? Not on a
bet. It's just us alone. Thanks to your sister
Rosie, who's going to take our child and heir
off our hands for two weeks. You see? Relatives
can be of some use. In time of dire distress.
Well, if anything happened to Rosie, Aunt Hester
could probably... Well, we decided that was the
best name for her. Everything else was sort of
clumsy. Anyway, as I was saying... Aunt Hester
could always fill in this babysitter. Now, I
wouldn't leave Kip alone here in the apartment
with an old witch like that. Don't call her a
witch. She's a sweet old lady. Oh. You have something
special against Aunt Hester? Oh, no, baby. Oh,
what could I have against? Well, like you said,
a nice sweet old lady. But for once... And I
guess the first time, I wasn't telling the wife
I loved the truth. On the surface, everything
was nice about Aunt Hester. Even that spiteful
cat and the cockamamie bird. But the vibes were
wrong somewhere. Maybe it's the reason I became
a cop. I got this special thing about people.
All I gotta do is meet someone. Within a minute,
some buzzer goes off. Wrong guy, right guy. It's
never failed me yet. Of course, Rosie, I understand.
No, we couldn't take a chance at Cib's age. Oh,
please don't worry. We'll work it out. Is something
wrong, Joe dear? Oh, well, nothing earth -shaking,
I guess. It's just that our vacation's messed
up. Oh, what's the matter? Oh, Rosie's oldest
child has just come down with measles. That changes
all our plans, doesn't it? Oh, not yours. We'll
see you off back to Duluth at the end of the
week. I'd be happy to put things off and stay
here until you've had your vacation. Oh, I couldn't
do that. Cape would be too much for you. Unless...
Unless what? Oh, unless you wanted to come along
with us to the Cape. It's lovely there, and then
Walt and I could have our cake and eat it too.
If you're sure Walt wouldn't mind, I'd be happy
to. How could I object or complain? It seemed
that perfect solution. Then why was I ridden
with doubts and fears that I concealed from Joan?
They only began to take shape when we finally
did go to the Cape. The cabin was right on the
beach, up on a sand dune facing the Atlantic.
Joan and I had lots of time to swim and surf
while Aunt Hester kept an eye on Kip. But every
so often Joan would have mother's guilt feelings
and decide that this particular morning would
be just for Kip and her. And on one of these
mornings I had gone beach combing, and on the
way back had stopped for a rest, half covered
by sea grapes, and had fallen asleep. Of a sudden,
some imminent time clock woke me, and I was looking
towards the beach, where I saw Smokey the Cat
prowling and pawing in the receding tide, as
if he were harvesting. Up to my feet, my eyes,
even after sleep, were still partially sun blinded,
and headed down to the water. As I came nearer,
that cat looked around and, seeing me, suddenly
billowed out to Aunt Hester's plumpness. Barefoot
and barelegged, her skirts kiked up to her knees.
Aunt Hester! Why, hello, Walt. What on earth
are you doing here? Me? Oh, just gathering some
seaweed. Why? Well, funniest thing. From a distance,
I... Well, it seems silly to say it, but... You
look like Smokey. My cat? For the land's sake.
How would a cat go near seawater? You look pretty
sunburned. Maybe you got a little too much sun.
You feel all right? Yes, I guess so. What do
you want the seaweed for? One of my little secrets.
Maybe we better get on back up to the house and
let you and your pretty Joan go picnicking while
you got the chance. The chance? You know what
I mean. Summer's growing short. Not much time
left. An innocent enough remark, surely. It was
growing short, and soon we'd have to get back
to the city. But why did it have some sort of
eerie significance to me? Why did I feel a long
run of cold fingers down my back, the uneasy
queasy feeling a cop gets every time he has to
draw a gun to protect himself? Sorry the weather
turned sour on us Joan. We'll be back to show
before the squall. Oh, I don't care about the
weather We've gotten duck before and thought
it lots of fun. Don't you want to get home me
sure? How about you? Oh? Yeah, well where else
I don't know You don't seem to like your home
much since my aunt Hester came around Okay, you
want to lay the cards on the table. I don't and
why not I don't know to tell you I used to read
books about The hackles rising on someone's neck.
I never knew exactly what it meant. I do now.
How could you? You have to have feathers like
a bird or hair like an animal. I feel as if I
do. Like Smokey or Captain Jack. The unholy three.
And now when she puts that hat on, she looks
just like a witch. Oh, wow. How can you say something
like that about somebody as sweet and helpful
as Aunt Hester? I don't know. It just doesn't
make any sense. Except... Like this afternoon,
the cat. I mean, she. I mean, well, what would
Aunt Hester be doing gathering seaweed? Oh, that.
Well, maybe you haven't noticed, but the impossible
has happened. In spite of vitamins, health pills,
everything we take, I've been catching a cold.
Aunt Hester says she has an old -fashioned remedy
for it. Hemiopathic. A tea made from seaweed.
Joan. What? I want you to promise me something.
Don't take any of that tea. I want a promise.
On your love for me, don't touch that tea. All
right, all right. Don't blow your cool. I'm with
you. You're the man that calls the turn. If Joan
was puzzled at me, so was I at myself. What was
it? This subconscious fear that slowly was invading
me. What was I afraid of? A little old lady and
a cat and a bird she tended as carefully as our
child. But some wild alarm bell was ringing deep
in the pit of my stomach. And my police training
reacted instinctively. That night, through the
precinct station, I put some queries on the wires.
And I picked up a sample of the seaweed and air
mailed it to the police lab. The police confirmed
Charles Herod Higbee died when his house burned
down on date named. Also killed in fire was his
wife less than 12 months. Esther Combs Higbee,
Nate Channing. Both buried Sunnyside Garden Cemetery.
No known relatives. Funeral expenses covered
by estate. No residue. My ESP working again.
This time when I least wanted it. If Jones and
Hester was dead, who was this stranger in our
home? What did she want? And then, the clincher.
Hello? Walt, it's Jake. Hi, Jake. What have you
got? On this junk you mailed me for analysis.
Yeah, the seaweed. Well, that's what it is, all
right. Seaweed. Nothing but a simple fungus.
Is it poisonous? Absolutely not. Wouldn't harm
a fly. Unless, of course... Unless what, of course?
It's kind of nutty, you know, but it's a special
fungus, in a way. Now, come on, Jake, let me
have it. I feel kind of silly, Walt. I mean,
it's only because, ever since Maud died, I'm
kind of a, well, like Dickens, an old antiquarian,
and I read up on offbeat subjects. Like what?
Well, this particular seaweed. In the Middle
Ages and all like that, it was like, you know...
the mess around with black magic. I mean, kind
of crazy even to mention it, but since it worries
you so much, there's no chance you got a witch
somewhere in your house, is there? The first
side panel of the triptych. Hester Higby, from
Walt's point of view. A hazy picture, not yet
formed, but an icy fear gripping at his vitals.
Truth? or fancy. That will have to wait Joan's
evaluation, at least, and events beyond that.
I'll return shortly. Of course, nobody believes
in witches anymore. And yet... It's a little
like superstitions. Nobody believes in them.
And yet, do many of us like to have a black cat
cross our path? If you're like most people, do
you try to avoid walking under a ladder, except
for sheer bravado? On the other hand, there are
people who are so healthy in mind and body, so
open -hearted and so generous, and who, without
being Pollyanna, do... Look by habit on the best
side of everything. People like Joan Madden.
I should have known not to give into my old -fashioned
sentimentality. Ever since I could walk, I've
been a sucker for every stray dog and lost kitten.
It wasn't fair to Walt. I knew he didn't want
to take on any extra burdens. And it was stupid
not to remember that he was just really only
getting his nerves back in shape after that freaked
out war he got stuck in. But Great Grandpa's
letter was so sweet and so sad. I just didn't
have the heart to refuse his dying request. So
I had to tell Aunt Hester to come and stay with
us. I just never figured that Walt would get
hurt. Just give me a straight answer, Joan. Have
you laid off that seaweed gun she's been trying
to feed you? Of course I have. It's... It's yeah
Well, anyway, I I don't need anything without
researching it first You know you talk as though
she might try to poison me. I Don't know what
she's up to. Well, why should she be up to anything?
Because she isn't who she's supposed to be. We
don't know that Joan Bill Cox got on the telex
to the Duluth Police Department and sent me a
copy of the teletype. He got in reply Your great
grandfather's wife got incinerated with him when
his house burned down. No, she didn't. Joan,
let's not kid around. I got this through police
channels. So even the police can make a mistake,
just like you. What's that supposed to mean?
Well, I mean, you haven't given Aunt Hester a
chance to tell her side of the story. Okay. Let's
do that little thing right now. Now let me get
this straight, Aunt Hester, or whoever you are.
You weren't in the house when it burned down?
Then sakes, Walter, of course not. How could
I be here if I haven't been? Oh dear. What's
the matter? I think I dropped a stitch. Let me
see now. And look, if you weren't in the house,
where were you? I don't think I want to say.
Why not? It's sort of important. I suppose it
could be made to be. Dear me. He was such a good
man and kind but weak weak and terribly careless.
Oh Oh, it's beginning to get dark. Isn't it?
I'll turn on some lights Oh, no. No first the
windows the drapes and the shutters. Sorry. I
forgot There There you see you like that better
ever so much The night must always be shut out
Especially here. You can put the lights on now
if you want. I'm still waiting for an answer.
From me? Oh yes, about the house burning down.
Oh dear. I hoped I wouldn't have to go into this,
but now Walter, don't look so grim. It's all
perfectly logical, if terribly unpleasant. I'm
afraid when Charlie wrote that note about me,
he wasn't quite telling the truth. He did say
he had lupus erythematosus disseminatus, didn't
he? Yes. We didn't know what it was. That's the
bad kind. Terminal. Only it wasn't true. He was
just trying to cover up. Cover up what? Well,
that even though I loved him, I'd had to take
Smokey and Captain Jack and leave him. Why? Oh,
my. I guess I can't pull any punches. You see,
Charlie was a chaser. Chaser he was woman crazy.
It has gotten so bad. I I'd had to move out Little
did I realize how lucky I'd had or I would have
been burned up in that house Are you trying to
tell me that a man of 82 was still I? Why I mean
was still messing around with other women you
better believe it son and He had another woman
with him when the house burned down? I'm sorry
to blacken his name for you, Joanie, but that's
about the size of it. Oh, the times I used to
warn him about smoking those cigars in bed. Wait
a minute, wait a minute. You don't actually expect
me to believe all this stuff. Why not, when it's
the truth? Because it doesn't hold water. I mean,
what about this other woman? She must have friends
or relatives or something. You can't just leave
them wondering what's happened to her. Well,
what good would it do them to know that she'd
been burned to a crisp? Besides, Darlene was
a drifter and a deadbeat. She was also a professional.
Nobody will miss her. Well, but, Aunt Hester,
what about the estate and... Well, there wasn't
any estate. What money we had was mine. Yes,
but the house, the insurance... He didn't own
it. Charlie had no insurance. Yes, but you've
thrown away your identity. You can't even get
Social Security or anything. Well, I won't be
needing any of it. You see, I'm the one who hasn't
much longer to live. The pains have begun already.
I'll be all right, though. The doctor said it
would be quick. If you'll just keep a roof over
my head till... till the dark angel comes to
pull me in his wings. Poor Walt. His face was
a study. I felt almost as sorry for him as I
did for poor Aunt Hester. But I managed to get
him out of the room and out of the house for
a long walk on the beach. And just as well. Because
we had what amounted to our first quarrel. And
the way he carried on really scared me. And I'm
telling you, she's a fake. She's lying through
her teeth, and I want her out of this house.
No, darling, please calm down. You know, I can't
just throw my poor old aunt who's sick out of...
Don't you listen to what I'm trying to tell you.
She's not your poor old aunt. All right, dear,
all right. Don't get yourself so upset. And even
if she isn't, she's a sweet old lady with nowhere
to go. I know where she can go as far as I'm
concerned. And as far as I'm concerned, it's
right where she belongs, the old witch. Well,
that's silly. There's no such thing as a witch.
Yes, there is. I'm going to tell you something
about that sweet old lady of yours. I think she
burned the house down. What? And by me, the only
reason she took a play in here was to make things
look good. She could just as easily have made
it on a broomstick. Darling, please. Now, look,
I want you to try and relax. It's just like it
was after you came back from overseas. Maybe
we ought to call Dr. Paul Damon. I don't need
Dr. Damon. All I need is the evidence of my own
eyes and ears and my police instincts. What do
you mean, evidence of your eyes and ears? I told
you. Right down about there, on those rocks,
that's where I saw the cat pawing about in the
water. And then all of a sudden, the cat changed
into Aunt Hester. Walt, you've been asleep. That
was just a, uh, well, a hallucination. I don't
hallucinate. Well, not anymore anyways. And it
isn't only that. But she talks to that bird,
Captain Jack, all the time. And sometimes there's
a third voice, like the cat, and he talks back.
I hear them. Don't you? No. So now you think
I'm hearing things, too? Oh, darling, Captain
Jack says a few little words, but how could a
cat talk? Because they're not just a cat and
a bird, any more than she's your Aunt Hester,
or even human. I tell you, she's a witch. and
the other two are her familiars. Her what? I
went to the library and read up on it. There
were two kinds of minor spirits that witches
had, or have, called familiars. One was a divining
familiar, and the other was a domestic one. Well,
honey, look at me. Now, you can't honestly believe
all this bilge. Suppose I do. Then I think you're
sick, and you ought to see a doctor. Listen,
I just want that woman out of the house and out
of our lives. Don't ask me to do that to the
poor old thing. What could she want from me?
How could she hurt me? I don't know. You can
see from the way she treats Kip how harmless
and well -meaning she is. Kip? Oh, good Lord.
Maybe that's what she's after, the baby, and
we left her alone with him. Oh, you like to scare
me to death, the two of you. Running like that
and bursting into the house, I thought you'd
wake up poor little Kip. Look at him, having
a little afternoon nap with Smokey in his arms
and Captain Jack perched on the edge of the crib
keeping warm. Fire bells and all's clear! Oh
dear, when the sun goes down my old bones have
an ache. And I look at you, Joan, darling, and
think to myself, what a wonderful thing it is
to have a young, healthy body at one's command.
How much you may belong to be just as you are
now But where are you going law I'm going into
town to nail this thing down once and for all
how I can use the police Teletype And I'm gonna
get a court order from the Duluth Police Department
to exhume the remains of whoever died in that
fire Once and for all, I mean to find out just
who and what it is we have living in our house.
And, darling, I want a promise from you. What?
Don't you leave Kip alone for one minute while
I'm gone. Walt, you're not really serious about
this. I was never more serious in my life. Because
if that woman represents a threat to you or our
future, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment to wipe
her off the face of the earth. And that's the
reason, just as soon as Walt was gone, I called
Dr. Damon. Because the way I saw it, what was
wrong around our house was my poor husband. He
was back in a tailspin just like after the war.
He was round the bend. Somehow I had to find
a way to bring him back. The second panel of
the Triptych. Is Joan right? Has she reasoned
to be worried about Walt? Or is she perhaps worrying
about the wrong person, shutting her eyes to
the real danger? Is Aunt Hester what she seems
to Joan, or what Walt is convinced she is? And
if, wild as it seems, she were a witch, what
is it she's after? I'll return shortly with Act
3. for the central panel. The sum and substance
of the two side portraits we have examined. The
real truths about Hester Madden. But first, a
harried phone call from Joan to Dr. Damon, monitored
unaware by either of the principals by that sweet
old lady Hester on a convenient extension. I'm
sorry to bother you, doctor, but I am... Walt
had found himself. Can you get him back to town
to see me? Oh, I doubt it. Well, I have a free
weekend. I might take advantage of this opportunity
to run down to the cave. I don't know if we can
put you up. No need. I have a little summer cabin
and all -ins. I could just drop in on your work
casually and check out Walt. Oh, if you only
could. Oh, you know me, Paul. I don't flip...
Well, this whole thing has got me really strung
out. Okay. I'll be there. Count on me. Just give
me directions. May you roast in hell forever,
Dr. Damon, if you try to cross my path, psychiatrist.
Ah! Roast him in hell! Roast him in hell! Quiet!
How much time do I still have? Not much. The
moon is full this weekend. And your houses will
be here. In conjunction, time to make the change
to her. Now can I, Smokey, if she's not prepared?
Give me the dried seaweed. I'll make sure it's
dropped in the salad she mixes for dinner. I'd
better handle that. No, no good. He wouldn't
let you near her, even if she would. Damn and
double damn him. May the torch of Hecate singe
his eyes. Her spear ripped through his vitals,
and her hounds run him down and tear him to pieces.
If it weren't for him, it all would have been
so easy. Maybe it would be better to move as
soon as possible, even right now while he isn't
here. No! That would be taking too much of a
chance for all of us. She's right! We exist only
as long as you do. Why should I care about you?
You're only projections of me that I can snuff
out like a candle if I wanted to. And be all
alone without your familiars to understand and
serve you. And if you did send us to eternal
nothingness, our voices would still carry to
tell them the truth. That you did not die as
you want them to think. He would come back to
reclaim you for his own. No! No! You wouldn't
do that to me. As long as you don't do anything
to us. My true name is Meregeist. And I am the
oldest order of witches. The witches of the sea.
I was born before the world began. And my span
of allotted years were seven thousand and seven.
But when at last my time came to return, and
mingled with the nameless droplet among the uncounted
of the great oceans, I could not bring myself
to obey the law. To escape my avenging sisters
of the sea, I had to find an earthly body to
house my spirit. I called on all the ancient
arts, magic, divination, astrology, enchantment
to find a young girl. whose sign was my sign,
whose birth date reflected the conjunction of
our houses, the ascendancy of whose planets and
stars matched my own. Every two generations,
as the body I have possessed begins to disintegrate
with age, I have found, countless times, a new
one to possess. The alternative is too hideous
to contemplate. I need the body of Joan Madden.
And nothing shall stop me from invading it and
making it my own. And nothing shall stop you,
me guy. Don't call me by that name. Or give me
a star. How can I afford to wait? Divine me now,
Alebka. What is the man Walter Madden doing?
He is arranging for an order to exhume the bodies.
To examine the one of the women who died in the
fire. You don't want me to see any further? As
far as you can. The skull was not destroyed.
They will find where you struck her and killed
her. And by the teeth, they will know her as
someone other than you. They will look further
and find the fire was set by someone. And they
will start to look for you! I knew it! My Grif,
what is the girl doing now? I'm guarding her
child because her husband told her to. He is
most afraid, you mean, the boy harm. Does she
still trust me? She is not even thinking of you.
She worries about her husband, that he is losing...
control of his mind as he did once before. She
does not think that I am a witch. She doesn't
believe such things exist. So much the better.
Let us do everything to make her think he has
gone mad. Who is it? It's Aunt Hester dear. Oh,
just a minute. Is anything wrong? Well, I know,
dear. That's what I was going to ask you. Kip's
asleep. Everything all right? Of course. Why
shouldn't it be? Oh, no reason. Except it isn't
like you to shut yourself away. I thought maybe
you or Kip might not be feeling well. No, no,
no. It's just this cold. I guess I'm just not
used to feeling out of sorts. And if you have
a cold, you shouldn't be sitting locked up in
the same room with a boy. You'll give it to him.
Oh, I never thought of that. I've just made a
nice cup of tea. Why don't you come and join
me? Following her downstairs, I could feel the
saliva thicken in my mouth with envy. I was never
more conscious of arthritic joints, the sagging
flesh, the muscles that barely had vitality enough
to respond to the message of the brain. There
in front of me was that shining hair with a natural
curl. The live muscles rippling just under the
skin. The easy, jaunty step that had no fear
of the treachery of steps to the old and feeble.
Just as we reached the bottom of the stairs,
the front door was thrown open hurriedly and
Walt came in. Joan, you all right? Of course.
Aunt Hester and I were just about to have a cup
of tea. Will you join us? Where's Kip? I left
him upstairs. He's asleep. Maybe since it won't
be too long till dinner you'd rather have a drink,
huh? No, I... I want to talk to you. Why don't
you let me attend to dinner, dear? Why don't
you just go in the back, Aunt Hester, and stay
in your room? What? Just let me handle things.
Of course. I'll go right now. I wouldn't want
to be in the way. All right, Smokey, you'll get
your dinner. But we're all going to have to wait.
Walter just isn't feeling himself tonight. Put
him in Section 8! Put him in Section 8! What
was he saying? What's Section 8? Service lingo
for the Nuthouse. The loony bin? You still think
I'm a candidate? Walt, don't talk like that.
Just leave me alone. By this weekend, we should
know the truth about who that woman is. If she
is your sweet old great grandmother, I'll apologize.
But if she's what I think she is, if she means
any harm to you or Kip, so help me. I'll murder
her. What time is it now? Nine on to eight bells.
Midnight and high tide. Then we must act before
them. How to get Joan alone. How to subdue her
so I can have the power to take possession. Someone's
at the door. Wait. Walter is answering and Joan
is in the kitchen alone. This may be our chance.
Shh! I want to hear what they're saying. Paul
Damon! What are you doing? Come in, come out
of that terrible weather. Come in the living
room. Joan's in the kitchen. She'll be right
out. What brings you here? Did Joan send for
you? Never mind that now. Come on, don't try
to sidestep. I suppose she thinks I'm blacking
out again. If you'd shut up for a moment. No
matter what brought me here, the weather is all
that matters now. I've been listening to the
radio driving up. Blackwater Dunes here is headed
for the highest tide in history. There's more
danger to you and your family from the elements
outside than any foreign element you fear may
be loose inside. Shh, watch it. Let me close
the door before we talk any further. They're
in the living room. And your prey is in the kitchen.
It's now or never. Come. Yes, Aunt Esther. What
is it? What? Are you looking at me like that?
In the name of the born, the swan that discreateth
the night and the day. In the name of Iabash,
in the name of Ptah and Chem, I abjure thee not
to move. Oh, my God, protect me. What was right?
Agress! Agress! Agress! Agress! Agress! Agress!
Agress! feet away until she fell, mere guys.
Now, while she is stunned and helpless, may I?
Too late! The sea is coming for me! What's going
on here? Anessa, what are you doing? Grab her,
quickly! Don't let her lips touch Jones! Leave
her alone! Don't touch my wife! Oh, good Lord,
what is it? She... Anessa, do me a favor. Just
stay with me. I followed six of her. Fetch Kip
and run before the sea swamps us all. I never
saw a tide like that. Came in like a... giant
hand and swept everything away. You all right,
Joan? I think so. Oh, thank the Lord you came
in time, Paul. Even if it was for the wrong reason.
What does that mean? Joan thought you needed
psychiatric help. I can't blame her. Anyone who
wanders the labyrinths of the mind has to be
familiar with ghosts and witches and everything
that haunts our dreams. Waking and sleeping.
There is a phenomenon I know from all my reading
that never ceases to haunt me. Even me who has
to deal with the fragmentation of personality
so much. Fragmentation? You mean what happened
when I tried to grab Hester or whatever she was?
I'll never forget that sight. Little black rusty
woman. who broke up into countless numbers of
other little rusty women in black dresses. All
mirror images running in every direction at once.
Projection of image. The magic secret of only
one kind of witch. The sea witch. All as her
Celtic heritage and beyond. Perhaps as old as
time. That's what Joan was saved from. Becoming
another of those Faceless bodies she possessed
and used up. You mean it was Joan she wanted?
That she's still in danger? Not anymore. What
do you mean? Look at where your house used to
stand. Wiped out by a cataclysmic tide that reached
from the sea like a monstrous god hand. You and
Joan are safe now. The sea has reclaimed its
hold. It was the great German poet Goethe who
wrote of a mystic goddess who came from the sea,
Mergeist, which means simply sea ghost. The sea
ebbs and surges, timeless and inexorable, but
what it sucks away in the undertow does not always
return with a succeeding wave. Eventually, it
swallows up what it wills. And no hand, natural
or supernatural, can stay it. In the end, the
sea always wins. I'll be back shortly. in Macbeth,
who said of the end of the Thane of Cawdor, I
saw him die. Nothing in his life became him like
believing it. The context of the remark, of course,
was somewhat different. He meant it as a tribute.
Hester, or Mergeist's death, was a long delayed
blessing for Joan Madden and all the world. No
young girl listening to this story. born under
the sign of Virgo, can help but sleep easier
tonight and other nights. Our cast included Margaret
Hamilton, Christopher Tabori, Evie Juster, and
Gilbert Mack. The entire production was under
the direction of Hyman Brown. And now, a preview
of our next tale. What happened to what I gave
you the loaner? Well, it was paid to the old
lair the night he died. But he never gave me
a receipt and the money just vanished into thin
air. Will you have the gall to ask me for money
when you've thrown away what I gave you already?
Here sits Stainstinson, false friend, thief,
braggart, beggar and bankrupt. Thou laird in
his offices and after him... So help me hold
him till they catch him, for I have claim on
his horse before any. Stand back, all of you,
or any man that approaches me near, I'll run
him through. For I'm a desperate man this night,
and to save my heart and home and my family,
I'll ride the wind with the witches abroad, even
if it blows me all the way to hell itself. This
is E .G. Marshall inviting you to return to our
mystery theater. for another adventure in the
macabre. Until next time, pleasant dreams.