TAPE 2: PARTNERS
RECORDING . . .
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[ -sounding exhausted- ]
Night Vale?
It feels weird, talking to all of you and yet knowing that you're not literally out there listening to me. I am so used to live broadcasting that I have learned to find comfort in the fact that somewhere, someone is listening to what I'm saying. The idea that somewhere, I matter. But I can't put this on the air.
Now, I'm merely playing pretend. Today's... real broadcast is done and over. I'm just talking to myself now, and recording it, and using it as an excuse to call myself sane.
[ -the sound of sweeping papers and crashing- ]
But I'll do it anyway, Night Vale!
[ -heavy breathing- ]
And… well, I promised you a story, didn't I, listeners?
[ -chuckle- ]
I'm so sorry.
So we're in Carlos's laboratory, right? And I'm psyched, because I'm in, Night Vale! This is much better than the time Carlos called me. I'm seeing the place he lives, listeners!
I could turn my head and see what looked like a kitchen, and just imagine cooking breakfast for Carlos as he worked away on his experiments. Or lounging on the couch to my right with him, watching the annual Night Vale parade on the TV and cheering as the hooded figures crawled along behind the parade floats, slowly feeding off of the souls of those watching from the sidewalk.
My heart was soaring.
Unfortunately, Carlos brought me back to reality. "Cecil, are you paying attention to me?" he asked.
"Totally!" I exclaimed.
At least it wasn't a repeat of the "neat" incident.
"I had some scientist friends of mine who live out of town do some experiments for me. I repeated the same experiments in Night Vale and compared results. I found that the objects in Night Vale have different physical properties than the objects outside of the desert." Carlos led me down a set of stairs and into his basement. He flipped on a light and revealed many rows of tables, computers and machines that I had never seen before. Every nook and cranny of the room was filled with little knick knacks or boxes labeled with varying instructions, from "DO NOT TOUCH" to "DO NOT LOOK AT OR EVEN THINK ABOUT".
"Please, don't handle anything without my permission," Carlos said as he weaved his way through the basement. "Some of the experiments that my colleagues conducted led me to form some beliefs. Firstly, time flows differently here in Night Vale than it does in other areas of the world." He bent down and started rummaging through a large bin. I was again made presently aware of his very admirable butt.
"Secondly," he said, "space here is contorted. This means that people attempting to drive to Night Vale or find it on the globe from outside of the desert may never find it. To the rest of the world, we might not exist. Or our global position may appear to shift and be inconsistent. Similarly…" he grabbed a hold of something at the bottom of the bin and then looked up. His dark skin was illuminated faintly by an unearthly light emanating from a glass jar across the room, "we may not be able to escape this place, even if we drove for all of eternity. Not unless it wants us to, that is."
I put a hand to my chest. "My! How….risque…"
A smile tugged at his mouth. He bit his lip, and then his eyes became hardened once again. "Cecil, because of all of these things, I have begun to categorize Night Vale in the only way I know how. I have labeled Night Vale as the epicenter of a series of supernatural events that can only be caused by a singular source of energy whose properties and location I have yet to identify." He stepped away from the bin, holding a cassette player. The same one I hold in my hands as we speak, Night Vale. With it, he also carried a purple headset and some recording equipment. "I need help, Cecil. I know you have your radio show to think about, but will you consider it? I...I've never been good with words. But you...you can do it. You can be my voice. Will you help me...uncover the secret that is Night Vale?"
That's right, listeners!
Carlos! Carlos all but admitted his undying love to me!
Carlos, listeners! I mean, he is totally out of my league. That perfect, silky, lusciously curled hair...with just a hint of gray at the temples, that adds so much to his character. That beautiful, flawless skin. The perfect shade of rich, chocolatey brown. Those eyes. Those eyes! And most especially the charming choice of glasses that frame them so well.
His scientific thirst for knowledge.
Have I mentioned how into science I have been recently, listeners?
After all, I'm practically a scientist now.
Carlos has enlisted me, listeners. I have been chosen, to voice the dawn of a new age. To voice Carlos himself-although nothing that leaves these lips could come close to matching the beautiful, oaky tones that resonate from his.
"Cecil? Did you hear what I said?" Carlos was snapping his fingers in my face again.
When he saw my eyes focus, he slowly lowered his hand and our eyes met. I could feel his heat. Or maybe that was the radiation coming from the box marked "RADIATION: TOXIC". You can never tell.
I could hear his heart beating. That was definitely his heart. I could differentiate it from the barely noticeable occasional thud coming from the hallway.
Listeners, I felt as though I had been waiting an eternity for him to ask me something like this. A partnership. A cause to fight for. A destiny, listeners. No! A future!
I could say only one thing.
"Oh, Carlos, I love you too!"
He looked genuinely confused by what I had said. I'm...not quite sure why. Perhaps one of the intergalactic vortexes beneath Night Vale had eaten my words. Pesky intergalactic vortexes.
Listeners, if you suspect that an intergalactic vortex is seated beneath your house, consider moving.
"Cecil...what did you say?" Carlos asked.
I grinned widely. "I said, I love you, Carlos."
"You...you love me?"
"Of course I do. I always have."
He looked like he had been socked in the stomach, listeners. It was a strange thing to see...uncertainty in his dark eyes. "Oh…" he said. He set down the recording equipment and ran a hand through that lovely hair. "Oh, I see...I see…"
I frowned. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"
"I...I want to hear that you'll work with me, Cecil. Do you think you can do that?"
"I...yes. Of course. I'll always be able to do that, Carlos." I held onto his hand again, rubbing his palm lightly and checking his bloody knuckles. "Always."
"Then...I think, at this point, I should probably take you back to the recording studio. Alright?" He pushed the recording equipment, cassette player and headset into my arms.
"Does this mean we're-"
"Alright?"
I slowly nodded. My eyes never left his, listeners. The lights of distant galaxies played in his pupils.
"Alright."
END RECORDING. . .
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