56 - Homecoming

[LISTEN]

It is autumn, and nature is vanishing. It is autumn, and nature is beautiful. Welcome to Night Vale.

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It's that time of year again, listeners! This Friday night is Night Vale High School's homecoming game! I'm not much of a sports fan, but this is the one game I truly care about. All of the Night Vale High alumni come together for it. Everyone: current students, former students, students long dead, future students who aren’t born yet. It's the one night we can see our loved ones who have been lost to time and mortality. The dead alumni come out at halftime and we all get to visit with them while the marching bands go spearhunting for dinner.

I can't wait to see my late mother again this Friday night, especially after I found those old cassette tapes last fall. I have so many questions. Important questions. And with Carlos out of town, I've gotten kind of isolated, a little hermit-like lately. I need to get out. This year's Homecoming means more to me than ever.

Plus, we’re playing the Red Mesa High School Ant Carpenters, who were dreadful last year. So, should be a fun night and a big win for our team.

...team? It's a football TEAM, right? A baseball club, a soccer unkindness, a hockey murder, a football team. Yes. That's it. Team.

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And now a public service announcement from the Night Vale Seismological Society, who have released their schedule of upcoming municipally-planned earthquakes.

On Sunday, from 8am to 8:30am there will be a small series of minor tremors. It's likely you'll feel nothing, the seismologists say, as these quakes are just to test some new equipment.

At 3pm on Tuesday, there will be an enormous earthquake, rating upwards of 7 to 8 on the Richter Scale, so wear long sleeves, or goggles, or gloves. Whatever it is you do to be safe during an earthquake. We're not entirely sure, the Night Vale Seismological Society said.

The following Saturday, be ready for anything. They're not sure what's going to happen. Maybe nothing. Probably nothing. Buuuuuuut, hopefully something really really cool. They don't want to get your hopes up. So just be on the lookout, but no promises.

Oh man, fingers crossed, this could be super amazing, the Night Vale Seismological Society said.

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This just in. There's news breaking of a possible scandal involving one of the Night Vale football players: senior running back Malik (mal-LEEK) Herrera. According to an investigative report by Leann Hart of the Night Vale Daily Journal, Herrera doesn't actually exist. Like he’s right there when you look at him, and he plays in a team of other players, so it would make more sense for him to be there than not, but Hart claims in her report that the all-district running back is, in fact, completely fabricated.

Anonymous sources say that Herrera is collectively imagined by the Night Vale High School fan base - a shared dream in the form of a boy who won the district rushing title the past two years and was freshman of the year 3 seasons ago. Red Mesa is threatening to cancel this Friday's game if Night Vale does not bench Herrera, citing district league rule 12, article 6 that states "All players must be real people. Don't not be a person, okay?" The rule continues: "Because if you're not really real…. Man, I'm mad just thinking about it."

Night Vale High School head coach Nazr al-Mujaheed said they will not bench any player until a full investigation is performed, which can't happen until Tuesday, maybe. Monday at the earliest. Coach al-Mujaheed then concluded his statement by removing his goat-horned headpiece and comically-large sunglasses, revealing tattoos of cat eyes on his eye lids. 

"Cool!" the gathered reporters shouted.

Night Vale, if there's no game, there's no homecoming. If there's no homecoming, we will miss the one chance we have this year to see our lost loved ones. I will miss the chance to talk to my mother, to see many of my friends. To get out for once and not feel so lonely. We will not have our biggest night of the year to come together as a community. I hope this scandal is not true, and, if it is, that it doesn’t, you know, ruin anything.

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Well, there is at least one old friend I’ll get to see. Listeners, I'm so excited for this next segment. My old friend Earl Harlan is in studio today! Earl is the new sous chef at Night Vale's hottest restaurant "Tourniquet," and he's here to teach us a simple and delicious dessert recipe. 

Welcome Earl!

EARL: It's good to see you again, Cecil. It's been a long time.

CECIL: Many of you listening may not know this, but Earl and I grew up together. We fell out of touch for a while, and then he was taken to another world during a boy scout ceremony,  but I recently saw his name in the news releases about Tourniquet.

EARL: We were very close friends.

CECIL: We were, Earl. What happened after high school? I completely lost track of you.

EARL: Well, I turned 19, and I was 19 for a long time. I don't even know how long. I was 19 for longer than I care to admit. And then one day I was suddenly a grown-up. I had a kid and a house and a job. 

CECIL: Some of us mature early. Some of us mature late. Sounds like you had plenty of youth left to live after high school and you just came to adulthood later.

EARL: Cecil, I meant that literally. I was literally 19 for ... I think it was decades, maybe a century or more. I don't know how long. Cecil, we graduated the same year, right?

CECIL: Of course we did. I remember our graduation party. We drank an entire case of warm orangemilk and told dirty jokes about the moon until we were frightened off by the sunrise. 

EARL: What year was that? Cecil, what year did we graduate?

[a very very long pause]

EARL: You don't remember, do you Cecil?

CECIL: [interrupting] Tell us about your recipe, Earl!

EARL: Ok. Sure thing. Tiramisu is a popular dessert at many restaurants, especially at Tourniquet, but few people make it at home. Once they hear how easy it is, and how delicious Chef Mason's recipe is, they'll want to make it all the time. They'll want to never stop making tiramisu.

CECIL: Sounds good.

EARL: [continuing over Cecil’s last line] Never stop making it. They'll lose their minds making it, Cecil. 

CECIL: So what all do you have here. What will listeners need?

EARL: Everyone should have most of these ingredients already at home: a carafe of pre-made coffee, 6 eggs (go ahead and separate them into whites and yolks, but make sure to remove organs, teeth, and other debris), salt, 2 tablespoons of cocoa, 1/3 cup of sugar, 2 cups of mascarpone (which is a kind of fish), a package of gluten free ladyfinger cookies, two ounces of dark rum, and Chef Mason's special culinary touch: 1 1/2 cups of ground nutmeg.

CECIL: Oooh, I love nutmeg. It's been deveined, right?

EARL: Yes, you can buy deveined nutmeg at most supermarkets, but in case you're grinding it fresh at home, make sure to remove the thick vein running up the nutmeg's spine after you kill and clean the animal. 

To start, just whisk the egg yolks and 1/4 cup of the sugar in one bowl and then work in the mascarpone. Then, in a separate bowl, you'll want to mix the egg whites, a pinch of salt, and the remaining sugar until firm. Like this.

[there is the sound of heavy machinery and crunching, maybe the birds of prey noises too?]

CECIL: That looks easy!

EARL: Mix that into the first bowl and add the coffee and the rum. Then dip the cookies into the mixture, lay them into a baking dish, cover with your ground nutmeg, and...

CECIL: Oh dear, Earl. I feel so silly saying this, but there's no oven here. I brought a professional chef to do a recipe on my show, and I don't even have a working kitchen.

EARL: Relax, Cecil. We wouldn't have time to completely cook a tiramisu on the air. It takes hours of slow baking in an earth oven. I already brought a finished tiramisu.

CECIL: Earl, how sweet of you. This looks delicious. I can't wait to share it with the staff.

EARL: Be careful. It is quite poisonous.

CECIL: Of course. Thanks for coming on the show. And congratulations on the huge success of Tourniquet. I hope to get a reservation there soon. Will you come on our show again with more tasty recipes? Maybe we can make this a regular cooking feature?

EARL: I'd love to, Cecil. I think we really have something here.

CECIL: Me, too.

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Terrible news, listeners. Just terrible news. Red Mesa High School has called off Friday night's game. There will be no homecoming. The campers and RVs that had started to fill up the Night Vale stadium parking lot have begun to file out. 

Malik Herrera, the running back accused of a false existence, apologized for not being more transparent and for letting down his school and community. The Night Vale School Board forced the team's hand by suspending Herrera for his corporeal unreality, but it was too late. The game had already been forfeited. Our homecoming is no more.

I had so much I wanted to say to my mother. I imagine all of you had so much you wanted to say to your lost loved ones, to say to each other. I imagine all that could have been and all that is now lost. Our biggest community event of the year is gone, perhaps, because we imagined too much. 

And to make things worse, a dangerous storm front is moving right now into Night Vale. You should seek shelter immediately from the eminent rain. And as a duty of public safety, I must take you now to the weather.

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[WEATHER: "Understood" by Y.R Generation (yrgeneration.bandcamp.com)]

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It's been five days, Night Vale, since that weather report began. It was a historically massive storm, and we needed the ongoing weather coverage. I hope you are all okay. I'm looking at some of you right now and you seem just fine. So, that's good news.

Sadly, the homecoming game remained cancelled. League officials conducted an investigation into Malik Herrera’s reality and determined he was indeed not real. They said he was tangible. They could feel a body when they touched him. They could hear a voice when they spoke with him. They could see a boy when they looked at him. 

But Red Mesa coaching staff presented, as evidence, a photograph of the many galaxies of our universe and, after viewing this, league officials determined that Herrera was too immeasurably small to be considered real. Coach al-Mujaheed argued that it is unfair to discriminate against someone based on their reality. Just because someone does not exist does not mean they do not deserve equal rights, equal pursuit of happiness. 

Even if al-Mujaheed and Herrera’s appeal holds up in the league, it can't bring back the homecoming we did not get to have. We did not get to see our dead friends and relatives this year, Night Vale. 

We had unanswered questions. We had unfulfilled hugs. We had unacknowledged 'i miss yous.’ We did not get to cry that night the way we wanted to cry that night, Night Vale, the way that perhaps we want to cry every night.

Even if there had been a game, the rain from the weekend was so monstrous and so intense that it would've been postponed anyway. There would have been no halftime in that deluge.

But.... In spite of all this, coach al-Mujaheed called a pep rally last Friday, in a gesture of support for Malik Herrera. This, as any time, is when we should join as a town, despite the game that never was.

Students and alumni - unfortunately only those still living - met that night in a rainy parking lot, in the well-lit shadow of an empty football stadium, and we told stories. Inez Cordova told me about her son who has started to walk. Teddy Williams told me he finally rolled a 450 in bowling. Wilson Levy and Amber Akinyi whispered the story of their vacation to Luftnarp last spring. 

I told my friend Diane Crayton about Carlos and how I miss him but how proud I am of the great work he is doing. Diane introduced me to her son Josh, who is a monarch butterfly. Later when I saw him, he was a motorbike. He's a sweet kid, that Josh. 

Everyone was sad, and everything was perfect. We stayed late into the night under the fluorescent corona of the bleachers, eating damp barbecue, wearing our orange ponchos, and telling those tales we wanted to tell to those loved ones who have left us, telling them instead to those who we currently or may eventually love. Tears were hardly noticeable on our rain-streaked cheeks by the time we said our goodbyes.

"Goodbye," we all said.

"You too," we all replied.

"Let's stay in touch," we all added with wildly varying levels of intention.

Before getting into my car, I saw Malik Herrera, standing alone wearing a full football uniform - shoulder pads, knee spikes and all. I told him he'll be playing again soon. We're all on his side, even though he's just a figment of our collective unconscious. He said, “I don’t even like football, sir.” He said he likes painting and found poetry. I told him he could be an artist if he wanted. “Only if the town imagines that for me,” he said. “Well, you’re a real trooper,” I told him. “Just a trooper,” he said, “I’m not real. I gotta get to practice now, Mr. Palmer.” Then he put on his helmet and jogged away. 

"It's two am!" I called out, but he had already vanished into the unrelenting storm. 

"It sure is, sir," he called back faintly in my mind.

I fell asleep easily that night. I dreamed of sun, of being with Carlos again, of a lighthouse that was not a lighthouse, of a world that is not anything at all. 

Perhaps a dream of things yet to come.

Stay tuned next for a radio program that only dogs can hear. 

And as always, good night, Night Vale. Good night.

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PROVERB: I’ve got more rhymes than the Bible’s got Psalms. (One hundred fifty one. I’ve got one hundred fifty one rhymes.)