The Night Listener

(piano)

(creak)

(feedback)

(thumps)

-(man) Ready?

-(woman murmurs)

-( man) Yeah, let's try it like that.

-(papers rustle)

From the studios of WNYH

in New York City,

I'm GabrieI Noone,

and this is Noone at Night.

As a storyteIIer, I've spent years

Iooting my Iife for fiction.

Like a magpie, I tend to steaI

the shiny stuff and discard the rest.

The facts can always be altered

When you're telling a story.

But this time.

I have to be careful.

I'll lay out the events

exactly as I remember them.

I want you to believe this. after all.

That'll be hard enough as it is.

This one is called

''The Night Listener. ''

It began in the

Worst of all possible Weeks.

Jess had moved out.

saying it was only temporary.

And I was miserable.

Nothing made sense anymore.

I was trying to read one of my ridiculous

yarns. the kind I had built a career on.

A sentimental piece

about our eighth anniversary.

But it felt so phony.

I couldn't put the

words into our mouth.

This isn't working.

-(W oman) It wasn't that bad.

- It just doesn't sound Iike me.

(W oman) The IeveIs are the same.

I couId adjust.

No, no.

It-it just sounds fake.

Look, GabrieI.

We can't do this again.

(feedback)

Just run an oId one, OK?

I-I'm.. . You know, I can't.

I'm sorry, I just can't.

(bell tolling)

Hey.

- Why are you here?

- I thought I was gonna buy you a drink.

What happened in the session?

We're just having sound probIems.

Listen, I'm ready to coIIapse.

- You sure you don't wanna go?

- I'm sure.

None of my business,

but the station is worried.

You owe them five shows.

I reaIIy don't wanna taIk about that.

- I'm worried about you.

- I'm aII right. ReaIIy.

AII right. Look.

- Take this with you.

- Oh, no. Come on, Ashe.

- You don't have to write a bIurb.

- Thanks.

Just want you to read it.

We're pubIishing it next quarter.

''A Diary of Transcendent

Hope and Courage." Oh, pIease.

It come with aromatherapy?

Save it, wiII ya? You'II have

reaI questions after you've read it.

- Hang in there, OK?

- Yeah.

See ya.

Jesus! You scared me.

- Just, uh, picking some stuff up.

- No probIem.

See you brought Lucifer.

Lucien.

He's just a friend.

Oh, babe, I toId ya.

I just need a IittIe space.

- It's aII right.

- I'II see ya.

- No, Hugo. Go.

- Hugo. Hugo!

(clock ticking)

(thunder rumbling)

( Gabriel) ''Charles Dickens,"

Wrote Pete Logand.

''W as only 1 2 when his parents

sent him to make boot polish

''in a factory by the docks.

''This screwed him up forever

and made him a writer.

( Gabriel and Pete) ''I think we've all got a

blacking factory. some terrible something

that makes us lose our baby hearts

as surely as we lose our baby teeth. ''

(Pete) Mine was

in the basement in Milwaukee.

It was converted into a room

that was supposed to be my playhouse.

No one ever wondered

Why my dad made it soundproof.

I knew all his games

by the time I was seven.

By the time I was 1 1.

other groW nups were W ith him.

I W ondered hoW much my mom knew .

( Gabriel and Pete) Then one night I heard

her there in the playhouse. whispering.

Telling somebody to move out of the way.

I realized she'd been there all along.

( Gabriel) ''That was what

the blindfold W as for - to keep me hidden.

''So they could

sell the tapes on the Internet. ''

( distorted voices)

(laughter)

-(phone ringing)

-(gasps)

( Gabriel's voice) You've reached Gabriel

and Jess. Leave a message at the tone.

(boy) Hi. it's Pete Logand.

The guy W ho W rote that book?

Ashe gave me your number.

so I just wanted to...

He said if I talk long enough you might...

Oh. W ell. Bye.

( dial tone)

- Ambushed?

- That's as good a word as any.

I thought it'd make you feeI better

to distract yourseIf.

The way I'm feeIing,

I might say something wrong.

You won't say anything wrong.

Did you Iike the book?

It's somewhat raw.

But powerfuI.

- He's a brave kid. How oId is he?

- 1 4.

Jesus.

How'd you get it?

(chuckles) Right over the transom.

No agent, no nothing.

- Donna just maiIed it to us.

- Who?

The sociaI worker who adopted him.

She got him to write as therapy.

You must have edited Iike crazy.

- WeII.. .

- What?

It's the cIeanest manuscript

I've had aII year.

Damn.

I wouIdn't do this to you unIess

I thought there was a reaI connection.

- Remember the basement?

- Yeah.

WeII, he Iistened

to the show after they'd gone.

- Jesus.

- He wanted me to give that to you.

(footsteps)

Jess?

What the heII are you doing?

Hi.

I can't do your books

unIess you Ieave me your checkbook.

This pIace was a mess.

Besides, I Iike Iaundry.

It makes me happy.

The power went out. Your fuse box

is f***ed up. And your dad caIIed.

- You didn't pick up, did you?

- I had to. He kept saying:

( Southern accent) ''Pick up, goddammit.

I know you're there."

( normal voice) He's a nice oId coot.

If he met you, he'd caII you

''that cute Chink gaI'' behind your back.

- I am a cute Chink gaI.

- Mm-hm.

How oId is he anyway?

He's got to be, Iike, ancient.

Why? Because I am?

I just hope that I'm over my parents

by the time I'm your age.

Good Iuck.

They asked about Jess.

You haven't toId 'em yet, have you?

No. 'Cause he'II be back by then.

Right.

(phone ringing through receiver)

(W oman) Hello. Please leave

a message after the tone. (beep)

Hi, Pete.

This is GabrieI Noone.

Ashe gave me your number and, uh.. .

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