Season 1/Episode 5: Voyager

by Bilal Dardai

Content advisories for this episode can be found below.

This episode features: Shariba Rivers as Lily, Marsha Harman as Dot, Amelia Bethel as Marisol, Isa Ramos as Spikes, and Michael Turrentine as Wes.

 Written by Bilal Dardai, sound design by Eli McIlveen, directed by Jeffrey Nils Gardner, music composed by Stephen Poon, recording engineer Mel Ruder, Unwell lead sound designer Ryan Schile, Executives Producers Eleanor Hyde and Jeffrey Gardner, by HartLife NFP.

This episode contains:

Discussions of dementia
Family Conflict
Swearing

 SCENE 1

INTERIOR OF THE HOUSE. MUSIC PLAYING ON A VINYL RECORD, CLASSICAL PIANO.


FOOTSTEPS DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS. THE SOUND OF A PAINTBRUSH BEING CLEANED IN A JAR OF WATER, FOLLOWED BY A CLAY DINNER PLATE BEING TAKEN OFF A STACK OF SIMILAR PLATES.

DOT:                Good morning, Lily.

LILY:            What are you doing?

DOT:                Do we not say good morning anymore?

LILY:            Sorry, yes, good morning Mom, what are you

doing?

DOT:                I was thinking about something you said last

night.

LILY:            Okay, listen, about that. I lost my cool.

I shouldn’t have yelled at you.

DOT:                You had some feelings to express. About,

well, I don’t recall how it started. I

always forget how our fights get started.

LILY:            It doesn’t matter.

DOT:                There was a thing you said, in the middle,

about the dinner plates. How the dinner

plates were from 1970 and nobody wanted to

have a meal on 40 year-old dinner plates.

LILY:            I was upset.

DOT:                I gathered. But as I lay in bed last night,

thinking about how familiar it all was, and

how sad that was, I thought to myself: She

might be right about that.

LILY:            About the dishes?

DOT:                Then I couldn’t get to sleep. I hobbled on

down here--

LILY:            --in the dark? On your crutches?

DOT:                Impressive, right?

LILY:            Mom!

DOT:                Stop interrupting me. I looked at the dishes

and you were right. Five years past the

garage sale date. I was about ready to

smash them all with a hammer, except then

you’d think I was a crazy person. The

wallpaper.

LILY:            What?

DOT:                That’s how the fight started. You said you

didn’t care for the wallpaper in one of the bathrooms.

LILY:            Oh. Yeah. That was dumb.

DOT:                So I decided instead I’d give the plates to

the Mt. Absalom Sportsman’s Association.

LILY:            Is that the--

DOT:                --gun club.

LILY:            And right now you’re--

DOT:                --painting targets on them.

LILY:            I make some petty comment about how old

the dishes are and your response is to have

them shot to smithereens.

DOT:                Don’t assume. They’re not very good shots.

LILY:            That doesn’t strike you as a little

passive-aggressive?

DOT:                For fuck’s sake Lilybelle. I said you were

right. Are you just trying to pick fights

now?

LILY:            I never said that you needed to--

A TINKLING BELL SOUND.

DOT:                Hello? Wes, is that you?

WES:                (FROM THE NEXT ROOM) Hey, Dot, yeah.

DOT:                Perfect. I have an errand for you. No wait.

Two errands. We’ll need new plates.

WES:                (WALKING IN) Hey. You two made up?

DOT:                I thought we had.

LILY:            We’re fine.

WES:                What are you doing with the dinner plates?

LILY:            Painting targets on them and donating them

to the gun club.

WES:                Cool. Hey, Lily, can I talk to you a sec?

Other room?

FOOTSTEPS TO THE NEXT ROOM. MUSIC LOWERS.

WES:                Is that going to be a usual thing?

LILY:            Is what going to be--

WES:                --the two of you screaming at each other?

Over, what, I couldn’t even tell after

awhile.

LILY:            Wallpaper.

WES:                Because some of what you said last night was...

LILY:            I know.

WES:                Unfortunate.

LILY:            I know, I know.

WES:                Like, I get it. She can get...

LILY:            Under the skin.

WES:                Yeah. And I’m not even related to her. She

knows where your, like, where your buttons

are.

LILY:            God, does she.

WES:                So don’t let her push them.

LILY:            You’re right. You’re right. I’ll try. (BEAT)

Sorry.

WES:                Why are you apologizing to me for?

LILY:            You shouldn’t have to be the adult here. But

you’re better at it than I thought you

might be.

WES:                Y’know; I’m better at this than I thought I

might be, too.

SCENE 2

THE INTERIOR OF A SMALL RECORD STORE. MUSIC PLAYING ON A VINYL RECORD. THE RECORD REACHES THE END OF THE SIDE WITH A DULL THUD.

THE SOUND OF AN OBNOXIOUS, MECHANICAL DOOR TONE, THE KIND THAT OFTEN ANNOUNCES THE OPENING OF THE DOOR AT A GAS STATION CONVENIENCE STORE, OR WORSE. THIS HAPPENS A FEW TIMES.

STELLA:            Aunt Marisol. (BEAT) Aunt Marisol. (BEAT)

Aunt Marisol!

MARISOL:            What?

STELLA:            The record finished.

MARISOL:            It did. That’s true.

OBNOXIOUS MECHANICAL DOOR TONE.

STELLA:            Do you want me to--?

MARISOL:            --would you?

STELLA:            Like what?

MARISOL:            Up to you.

OBNOXIOUS MECHANICAL DOOR TONE.

STELLA:            I don’t know any of this music.

OBNOXIOUS MECHANICAL DOOR TONE.

STELLA:            Also, you know that’s annoying, right?

OBNOXIOUS MECHANICAL DOOR TONE.

STELLA:            Like, super annoying.

MARISOL:            I think I was wrong.

STELLA:            I told you the bell was better.

MARISOL:            You did tell me that.

STELLA:            It’s going to make people leave the store.

They’ll walk in, they’ll hear that sound,

and they’ll walk back out again.

MARISOL:            Joke’s on you, kiddo. People would have

to walk in here in the first place.

STELLA:            Maybe if you opened before 11.

OBNOXIOUS MECHANICAL DOOR TONE.

MARISOL:            Nobody buying vinyl in this town is in such

desperate need that I should be out of bed

before 10. Are you putting something else on

or not?

STELLA:            I told you I don’t know any of this.

MARISOL:            What’s that stack over there?

SHUFFLING THROUGH SEVERAL LARGE VINYL ALBUM COVERS.

STELLA:            Major Lance, Barbara Acklin, The Fascinations...

MARISOL:            That’s all Northern soul.

STELLA:            Is that a real thing or just what you call it?

MARISOL:            It’s real. England, 1960s. It’s fun. You’ll like it.

STELLA:            Will I?

OBNOXIOUS MECHANICAL DOOR TONE.

MARISOL:            (SIGHS) Do me a favor, Stella?

STELLA:            Spikes.

MARISOL:             There’s a screwdriver under the cash register.

STELLA:            You want the--

MARISOL:            --and the bell, please, yes.

STEPS ACROSS A WOODEN FLOOR. A SCREWDRIVER BEING PICKED UP. THE SOUND OF A TINY BELL BEING MOVED. STEPS ACROSS A WOODEN FLOOR.

STELLA:            I asked you to call me Spikes.

MARISOL:            You did.

STELLA:            That’s my nickname.

MARISOL:            Says you.

STELLA:            Says everybody on my volleyball team.

MARISOL:            Can I have the screwdriver, please?

STELLA:            Please...?

MARISOL:            Spikes, whatever, give me that.

STELLA:            Told you the bell was better.

MARISOL:            Finish organizing the Motown.

STELLA:            Why are these always out of order? Every

single summer. How does that happen? Do you,

like, purposely mess them up so I have

something to do?

MARISOL:            That’s a vicious lie.

STELLA:            Do you?

MARISOL:            They don’t teach you about entropy in 8th

grade?

STELLA:            No. Maybe. I don’t remember. What is it?

MARISOL:            It’s, you know, chaos. Every atom in the

universe tumbling and smashing into each

other all the time.

STELLA:            And that’s what messes up your store?

MARISOL:            The store’s made of atoms.

A TINKLING BELL SOUND.

MARISOL:            I don’t know why I changed that.

STELLA:            You know I’d still hang out with you, right?

Like, you don’t have to put me to work to

get me to spend time with you.

MARISOL:            I know.

STELLA:            I like being here. I look forward to this

every summer.

MARISOL:            I’m glad to hear that.

STELLA:            So can I stop?

MARISOL:            No. But I’ll help you. Hand me that record

over there.

THE SOUND OF A RECORD BEING PLACED ON A TURNTABLE AND TURNED ON. BLUESY MUSIC STARTS TO PLAY.

MARISOL:            This is what summer is around here. You know

that. Not much to do until the Celery Festival.

STELLA:            It’s fine. I met this one kid a couple days

ago. She’s pretty cool. She was telling me

all these things about these, like,

landmarks? Around the town, I mean.

MARISOL:            Like what?

STELLA:            There’s this big flat rock about a mile or

so from here that she says used to be like a

witches’ altar. She told me this story about

how some traveling salesman, a hundred years

ago, got turned into an owl.

MARISOL:            What?

STELLA:            That’s the story. Some traveling salesman

broke somebody’s heart and she turned him

into an owl. (BEAT) Like, okay, the legend

    is that this salesman, you know, hooked up

with this woman, and then he left, you

know...

MARISOL:            Like traveling salesmen do.

STELLA:            Right, but then he passed back this way. And

she’s like, “Hey! It’s me! Martha!” Or

whatever, I don’t know if her name was

Martha. But she’s all, “It’s me, Martha,

remember? We hooked up?” And the salesman,

he’s like: “Who?”

MARISOL:            Ha!

STELLA:            Poetic justice! Anyway, that’s just what

Joey told me. Joey, that’s her name.

MARISOL:            She sounds intense.

STELLA:            No, no, she’s pretty chill. It’s all just,

like, local history. We don’t go digging for

bodies or anything like that.

MARISOL:            Okay. (BEAT) If you want to go digging for

bodies, I’m fine with that.

STELLA:            Okay.

MARISOL:            Tell me first is all I’m saying.

STELLA:            Got it, Aunt Marisol.

A TINKLING BELL SOUND.

LILY:            (OFF) You want to meet back here or back at

the house? Wes. Wes. Meet back here

or...Wes! Meet back at...the house. Okay.

See you there.  

MARISOL:            Hello!

LILY:            Hi! Wow.

MARISOL:            Wow?

LILY:            This is...a legitimate record store.

MARISOL:            You sound like you were expecting a gambling

den in here.

LILY:            No...

MARISOL:            Which is not a terrible idea.

STELLA:            Yes it is.

MARISOL:            Yes, it is.

LILY:            I only meant that it’s not often you find a

store that has nothing but records in it.

MARISOL:            Yeah, well, there wasn’t as much market in

this area for a store that sold both 45’s

and fresh produce, so one of them had to go.

(BEAT.) Nice to see you again, Lily. You

remember my niece, Stella?

STELLA:            Spikes.

MARISOL:            Sorry, you remember my niece Spikes?

STELLA:            You were at the pageant, right? You came

with the crazy one who went after Hazel about the history and the cholera? Which was uh-mazing.

I’ve seen that stupid play like a thousand

times and I always knew something was wrong

with it.

LILY:            Abbie can get a little...animated.

STELLA:            (EXCITED GASP) Oh my god. Oh my god that’s

perfect.

LILY:            What’s perfect?

STELLA:            Rotoscoping. I’m going to rotoscope it. You

know, like how you draw over the film with

a--

LILY:            --oh, like that one movie, who’s the one who,

what’s it called--

STELLA:            --Waking Life.

LILY:            And that weird one with Keanu Reeves.

STELLA:            Linklater.

LILY:            Linklater! That’s it.


STELLA:             Okay. Okay, Aunt Marisol, you’re right. She’s cool.

MARISOL:             Back to work, cadet.

STELLA:            Aye aye, sarge.

LILY:            You told her I was cool?

MARISOL:            I told her you seemed cool.

LILY:            I thought you record store types didn’t think

anyone was cool.

MARISOL:            Damn. Knew I was doing something wrong.

Don’t narc me out to the Hipster Police,

okay?

LILY:            Deal.

MARISOL:            Can I help you find something?

LILY:            I’m looking for a record.

MARISOL:            Whatever you want, it’s probably here. All

rivers flow to the ocean; all of Ohio’s vinyl flows to me.

LILY:            I don’t know which one.

MARISOL:            Ah. Then this might take a minute.

LILY:            It’s a gift for my mom. I’m in town looking

after her. She broke her leg.

MARISOL:    Yikes. Sorry. (BEAT) Oh wait. Oh wait. I’m so slow. You’re Dot’s daughter.

LILY:            Right.

MARISOL:            I’m a snail, I’m a sloth. They like

straight-up announced your name on a

microphone and it didn’t even hit me that

you’re both named Harper.

LILY:            So she told you I was coming.

MARISOL:            She told me she had tenants coming.

LILY:            Tenants. Not “my daughter.” Tenants.

MARISOL:            You two got stuff, huh?

LILY:            Little bit.

MARISOL:            Can’t say that surprises me. I dig your mom,

but also I’m glad she’s somebody else’s mom,

feel me?

LILY:            Anyhow, we got into this stupid fight last

night.

MARISOL:            Stuff.

LILY:            Stuff.

MARISOL:            You want to say sorry.

LILY:            She’s got a lot of records. I thought she

might like one more.

MARISOL:            All right. Let’s work some witchcraft. How

old is she now?

LILY:            Sixty-two.

MARISOL:             So when she’s about Stella’s age--

STELLA:            (DISTANT) --Spikes--

MARISOL:            --mid-1970s.

LILY:            Why then?

MARISOL:             Trust me, you want back on somebody’s good

side, you tap on their music memories from

high school.

LILY:            So I should get her disco?

MARISOL:            It wasn’t all disco. Follow me.

A FEW FOOTSTEPS ACROSS THE FLOOR, THEN SEVERAL RECORDS BEING FLIPPED THROUGH IN A BIN.       

MARISOL:            Something that says “Mother, that was

unnecessary and I, your grown daughter,

apologize.” So. Gentle but not melancholy.

Sways a little bit, without swinging, but not easy listening, no. Something with a little bit of blood on it. Like a hawk gliding back to its nest with a sparrow in its claws.

LILY:            That’s...beautiful.

MARISOL:            You’re doing something beautiful. So.

LILY:            You have something like that?

MARISOL:            Could be.

A RECORD BEING PULLED OUT OF THE BIN.

MARISOL:             Stella. Spikes. Could you stop the--?

MUSIC STOPS ABRUPTLY.

LILY:            Rusty Standish? I’ve never heard of him.

A RECORD BEING PLACED ON THE TURNTABLE AND STARTING. AN ACOUSTIC GUITAR AND CROONING SINGER PLAYS BEHIND THEM.

MARISOL:            I don’t think he had much of a radius beyond

Ohio. Which, sometimes that’s just how it’s

supposed to be. Some things are best when

they stay local.

MUSIC PLAYING FOR A FEW MOMENTS.

LILY:            This is nice.

MARISOL:            Right? See. Not everything was disco.

LILY:            Sounds exactly like--well not exactly

like--but I remember. She used to play

music like this all the time when I was

here.

MUSIC PLAYING FOR A FEW MOMENTS.

LILY:            This is perfect. I don’t know how you just

did that. I’d never have found this on my

own, I’d have been here all day.

STELLA:            It’s her superpower. Like, one of them.

LILY:            You have others?

MARISOL:            I wouldn’t say “super.”

STELLA:            She invents things.

LILY:            What?

MARISOL:            I wouldn’t say “invent.” I tinker a little, is all.

STELLA:            She’s got a whole workshop in back full of

machines she’s messing with.


MARISOL:            Old junk. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a lot of it floating around Mt. Absalom.

LILY:            I live in a boarding house from the 1800s.

MARISOL:            And the cell reception?

LILY:            Oh, no kidding.

MARISOL:            I called two or three different providers,

asked them if they could put up another tower or I don’t know, reroute a satellite, and all of them said “no can do.” Something about how the magnetic whatevers cross over the something meridian. Hope you don’t need to download a song anytime soon.

LILY:            On the other hand--great place to open a

record store.

MARISOL:            You’re right, I should try that.

LILY:            Have you invented anything exciting?

MARISOL:            No, listen, I’m telling you, I haven’t

invented anything. I have a back room full of junk that I’m turning into differently shaped junk.

STELLA:            You totally have a time machine in there.

MARISOL:            That’s called a grandfather clock, and it’s

broken.

STELLA:            Whatever, don’t tell me. I’m done sorting

this. I’m going to grab lunch. Want anything?

MARISOL:            Nah. Are you coming back, or meeting what’s

her name?


STELLA:            Joey. We were going to hang, yeah.

MARISOL:            That’s fine. Back by dark.

STELLA:            Per usual. Nice to meet you, Lily. See you

around.

LILY:            See you around, Spikes.

RECORD PLAYER IS TURNED OFF. A DOOR OPENING, A BELL RINGING.

LILY:            Huh. I had a friend named Joey when I

lived here, too. Probably not the same one.

It’d be creepy and weird if it was the same

one.

MARISOL:            You know how it is. Every summer some kid in

America gets a friend named Joey. Do you want this gift-wrapped?

LILY:            You do that?

MARISOL:            Sure. It’s a peace offering, right?

Presentation counts. Give me a second.

WRAPPING PAPER BEING UNROLLED, CUT, FOLDED, AND TAPED.

MARISOL:            Tell you the other thing that’s nice about

music specifically from your teen years?

It’s good for the brain.

LILY:            What do you mean?

MARISOL:             I mean it helps. There’s research and everything. Good for your memory, like word games and such. My grandpa had, you know, he had a condition himself, got rough towards the end. But if you got some Pérez Prado,

some Celia Cruz going in the room, he’d start in with these stories you couldn’t get him to shut up. (BEAT) So this is isn’t just good for you, it’s good for her.

LILY:    I don’t...I’m sorry, my mom doesn’t have a, a condition. Who told you that?

MARISOL:    ...nobody. Just last time I ran into her, she seemed a little...but come to think of it she might’ve been on some serious painkillers.

LILY:            Oh, sure.

MARISOL:            That was probably it. Sorry, that was...

LILY:            No, it’s okay, no worries.

SILENCE EXCEPT FOR THE WRAPPING OF THE GIFT.

MARISOL:            And here you are.

LILY:            Thanks. (BEAT) This really is a nice store

you have.

MARISOL:             Thank you for saying that twice.

LILY:            I mean it. Can I ask you--?

MARISOL:            --why’s it called The Golden Groove?

LILY:            I like it! It’s--

MARISOL:            --cute?

LILY:            I wasn’t going to say cute.

MARISOL:            Most people say cute.

LILY:            I hate it when people say cute. About anything. Even things that are cute.

MARISOL:            Yes. Yes, thank you.

LILY:            I was going to say “evocative.” “The Golden Groove” is evocative.

MARISOL:            You have no idea how many different things I tried to call this store. I was filling out the paperwork at the bank and I think I sat there for a full hour changing my mind about it before I gave up and went home, and then it took me two more days of putting sticky notes on the wall. (BEAT) For a while it was going to be “The Dusty Needle,” except the thing about dusty needles is that they distort the sound. Then I thought about calling the place “Hello Fidelity.”

LILY:            Hello--oh, I get it.

MARISOL:    Terrible. It’s like a dad joke had a kid with an accounting firm. Then, then, I almost called the place “Old Scratch.” This close. Until somebody reminds me: “Old Scratch” is another name for Satan. And I’m not super-religious, okay, but I’m opening a record store, so maybe I don’t tempt any more fate than I have to.

LILY:            How’d you end up at “Golden Groove”?

MARISOL:            Hm. Here. Follow me.

LILY:            Okay...?

A DOOR OPENING, A BELL RINGING. SOUNDS OF THE OUTDOORS, A SMALL TOWN STREET.

MARISOL:            So this would be better if it were night

right now, instead of noon. But you see

where I’m pointing?

LILY:            Sure.

MARISOL:            Seriously, imagine it’s night right now. It

makes this story so much better.

LILY:            Okay.

MARISOL:            Right around...there, I’m pretty sure.

That’s the path of the two Voyager missions.

You’ve heard of those?

THE STREET SLOWLY DISAPPEARS AS A COSMIC SOUNDSCAPE FADES UP- REMINISCENT OF OLDER PLANETARIUM SHOWS

LILY:            Sure.

MARISOL:            So, there’s a record inside each of them.

When they launched Voyager 1 and Voyager 2

into space there were these gold-plated

12-inches that they loaded with music and

everyday sounds, packaged up with about a

hundred photos and drawings, and a needle.

And instructions for aliens on how to play

the record, if they found it. It’s about as

perfect a time capsule of who we were at

that moment as could be assembled. It’s our

song to the stars. It’s Mozart and Peruvian

wedding songs and Navajo night chants, and

it’s a baby crying and wild dogs and

rainfall, and it’s traveling beyond our

solar system, preserved in a vacuum, on

the extent of our technology at that time.

LILY:            And you love it.

THE STREETSCAPE RETURNS

MARISOL:            God yes I love it. I love it so much I named

the store after it. (BEAT) You should really

come back here after sundown and let me tell

you that story again. It’s much better when

you’re not staring into the sun.

LILY:            I think I’d like that.

MARISOL:            Yeah? Okay. Later?

LILY:            Today? No.

MARISOL:            Oh right not...

LILY:            But maybe...

MARISOL:            Sure, maybe...

LILY:            At some point.

MARISOL:            Absolutely.

A LONG SILENCE

LILY:            My gosh, I haven’t paid you yet.

MARISOL:            No. No, that’s right, you haven’t. That’s.

That’s fine, actually. Pay me next time. When you come back.

LILY:            Oh, I...

MARISOL:             You’re not leaving anytime soon?

LILY:            No. Not for a little bit, anyway.

MARISOL:            All right. So I know where to send my goons

if you don’t make good. On this old record.

That nobody else was going to buy anyway.

(BEAT) I don’t have goons.

LILY:            (LAUGHS) Thank you. For everything. I’m sure

I’ll see you soon.

MARISOL:            Outstanding. Welp. Bye now.

DOOR OPENING, BELL RINGING.

MARISOL:            (TO HERSELF) Ohhh, Marisol. You nut. What

are you doing.

SCENE 3

DOOR OPENING. TINKLING OF A BELL.

LILY:            Huh.

DOT:                Huh what?

LILY:            Just noticing the bell. Is that something

every business in town has, or just you and

Marisol?

DOT:             You saw Marisol?

LILY:            Yeah, just now, at her store.

DOT:                Nice one, that Marisol.

LILY:            She is. (BEAT) She helped me find this for

you.

GIFT BEING UNWRAPPED.

DOT:                No kidding. Rusty Standish.

LILY:            You’ve heard of him?

DOT:                How did you find this?

LILY:            I didn’t. Marisol did. She...seemed to think

it was appropriate.

DOT:                Appropriate for what?

LILY:            Just...appropriate. For us.

DOT:                I feel like...I used to have this.

RECORD BEING PLACED ON A TURNTABLE AND NEEDLE BEING PLACED ON THE RECORD. THE SONG FROM EARLIER PLAYS AGAIN.

DOT:                Yes. Yes I...how do I know this?

LILY:            It’s from the mid-70s, sometime. So you’d

have been...

DOT:                Yes, I’d have been... 15, maybe. Maybe

older? Wait. How do you have this?

LILY:            I told you, Marisol...

DOT:                How did she have this?

LILY:            Mom, is something...

DOT:                Turn it off.

LILY:            What’s wrong?

DOT:                I’ve heard enough of it. Turn it off.

MUSIC ABRUPTLY STOPS; RECORD PLAYER IS STILL ON.

DOT:                What is this, a trick? Are you being cruel?

This is out of bounds. Whoever you are.

LILY:            Whoever I am?

DOT:                What right do you have to do this to me?

LILY:            I’m not doing anything! MOM!

DOT:                STOP SHOUTING AT ME! It’s not possible for

you to have this. Nobody has this.

LILY:            If you don’t like it I can take it back.

DOT:                No, stop, wait. Don’t you dare. (BEAT) I’m

sorry. (BEAT) Please don’t take it back.

I’ll listen to it. Later. I’m not ready

right now.

LILY:            Mom? What just happened?

DOT:                It’s nothing.

LILY:            It’s not nothing.

DOT:                I wasn’t expecting that, is all.

LILY:            Did you remember something?

DOT:                No, I don’t think so. It was, maybe, I

remembered feeling something? Sometimes your

brain does that, where it’s, your senses,

They trigger something? Makes your mind

wander? And sometimes it wanders too far.

Sometimes it wanders where it oughtn’t.

LILY:            That didn’t look like your mind wandering.

DOT:                No? Well. Maybe my mind knew exactly where

it was going, but it didn’t want to tell me.

(BEAT) Can we talk about this later? I think

I’m ready. Can you...start it again?

LILY:            Are you sure?

DOT:                How should I know? Just play it. All right?

LILY:            All right.


THE SONG STARTS BACK UP FROM THE BEGINNING.


RUSTY STANDISH:

I lost every word that I

Never found the nerve to say

Carve  my heart in the sides

Of winds and waterfalls, landslides

So I’m standing at your door

And I couldn’t say what the knob is for

I lost every moment that I

never spent as your lover

Now all we share, you and I

Is the distance between us

Now all we share, you and I

Is the distance between us




END


THE CLOCK FADES INTO THE CREDITS

THE THEME SONG COMES IN- STOMPING FEET, RHYTHMIC GUITAR, AND PRONOUNCED BANJO.

CREDITS:        This episode features: Shariba Rivers as Lily, Amelia Bethel as Marisol, Marsha Harman as Dot, Isa Ramos as Spikes, Michael Turrentine as Wes.

MUSIC BREAK- A HAUNTING SUNG NOTE    

        Written by Bilal Dardai, sound design by Eli McIlveen, directed by Jeffrey Nils Gardner, music composed by Stephen Poon, recording engineer Mel Ruder, Unwell lead sound designer Ryan Schile, Executives Producers Eleanor Hyde and Jeffrey Gardner, by HartLife NFP.

THE STRANGE BASS NOTE RETURNS

Rusty Standish’s 1972 folk album “Memories on the Road” was a local chart topper and “Edge of your Bed” was the number one most requested song on WGST, Mount Absalom radio. It is unclear what label pressed the album, though LPs surface every so often in resale shops.