transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:23] My best friend, when I was seven or eight years old, lived a few doors down from me in a government-assisted housing co-op in Schwa, Michigan. His name was Michael, and his parents used to lock him out of the house when they got high. Michael showed me the needles once. When he was locked out, we'd spend all afternoon down in the ravine behind the co-op making potions out of mud and casting magic spells. Michael's dad taught us how to play darts in his basement, and his mom used to cook us hot dogs in their backyard. I know Michael's dad hit him sometimes. Michael had a little sister named Jess, and the three of us were all together when we found his dad's stash of dirty magazines. Mostly, what I remembered was the little girl laughing at the pictures. My mother used to tell me that Michael was on the road to ruin, and that his parents were unfit. When I asked Michael about his mom and dad, though, he always said he thought they were great, and that he loved them. Some people just can't see the truth about things, even when it's right in front of them. I thought a lot about Michael and his sister, and wished I had been older back then and could have helped them somehow. I ended up becoming an FBI agent. No one could say I didn't turn out okay. Still, when I think back about being a kid, it's like there was some dark cloud over the whole thing. Part of me always wanted to get back to that darkness. I didn't know it yet, but I was just about to find it. They taught us that this part of the country used to be an ocean. Then it was a forest with massive redwoods and sequoias. But then there were huge fires from lightning or volcanoes, and it all burned to the ground. Now nothing much grows out here. It was late afternoon and the sun kept getting in my eyes. Squinting wasn't helping at all. I kept drifting up to the rearview mirror to avoid the brightness. It was a long drive, and I couldn't even listen to the radio. When I tried to turn it on, I somehow pulled off the volume knob and couldn't get it back on. Maybe there weren't any radio stations out here anyways. This was the first time I had been to the Utah desert. The views of the mountains way off in the distance, no traffic, all the sand and shrubby low plants. It felt like I was in some lonely daydream where my thoughts could roam free without anyone to interrupt them. I didn't think anyone lived out here, and up until a few minutes ago, I hadn't seen much of anything. Then I saw one, then another. Every once in a while I'd see strange little shacks. Some made of metal sheets with piles of tires on the roof. Others just ramshackle wooden structures. Ancient campers. There was a door set in a large pile of dirt. These huts and shacks were quite a ways from the main road, and you could easily miss them. When I was a kid, these were probably the kinds of shacks and forts I wished I could have found and lived in. I would have guessed these places were abandoned, except a couple had trucks out front. I didn't think anyone could farm out here either, but I passed a field of onions. I had seen onion fields back home in Michigan, so I knew exactly what they looked like. But this must have been the loneliest onion farm in the world. What kind of a family would want to farm for onions way out here? It was a three-hour drive to Sunnyside, Nevada from Salt Lake. I still had an hour to go. The quiet was getting to me. I was pretty sure the volume knob was under the passenger seat. I reached down to see if I could find it keeping my eye on the road. I could just feel the edge of it. I inched down to get a hold of the knob. There was a flash of movement just the corner of my eye. I bolted upright and tried to swerve. Too late. Damn it. A dead rabbit was lying on the road behind me. I thought about stopping, kicking the thing to the side of the road. It probably didn't matter. I kept going. Now though, it felt like the car was driving down into some hole. I was dizzy, probably from sitting up too fast. I took a deep breath to steady myself. It's a spell. I used to have them as a kid. I'd see things that weren't there, and it was almost as if I was in some other place for a while. My doctor back then told me to take a lot of deep breaths. It'll pass, it's going to pass. I drove over some train tracks and squinted through the sun beams to read the sign. Starlight Pond. There was a lot of writing on the sign that was too small to read from the road. I slammed on the brakes. Some guy ran across the road in front of me. I would have hit him if he hadn't stopped. He looked all around like he was in a daze, like he didn't even know I was there. He wandered to the edge of the road. I opened the door, and stepped out into the cold. Hey, you forgot your shoes somewhere? I had a sport jacket on, which wasn't enough to keep me warm out here. The guy, I guessed an older-looking 30-year-old, was standing there looking at me now, a tattered, messy beard. He wasn't wearing any shoes. I could see now that he had been walking on a path which led to the pond, which I could just barely see in the distance. Hey! Hey! You hear me? There was all kinds of garbage lying around, old bottles, a stained mattress, the remains of a campfire. There was a little ghost sticking out of the ground, just a few inches high. It looked like a piece of paper wrapped around a big lollipop, with little black eyes and a small surprised circle for a mouth. The lollipop ghost wasn't garbage. Someone put it there for a reason. The guy was still just standing there looking vacantly at me. I couldn't tell if he was completely out of it or thinking. He had a face like a rusty ax. Hey! Where's your shoes? He seemed to come to his senses.

Speaker 2:
[08:49] I'm just trying to get a ride into town.

Speaker 1:
[08:53] He was wobbling a bit. I couldn't smell any booze from where I was. Maybe he was high. I pulled out my wallet and flashed my badge. Might as well let the guy know up front that I was in charge here. His eyes narrowed on the badge and his brow furrowed with concern, and then there was a little smile.

Speaker 2:
[09:13] I know why you're here.

Speaker 1:
[09:15] Oh, yeah?

Speaker 2:
[09:18] Those kiddos.

Speaker 1:
[09:19] We must be at least 60 miles from town. You didn't walk out here. He put a hand on my shiny car to steady himself, probably leaving greasy smudge marks. He kept looking at me and not looking at me at the same time. He turned, put his other hand on the car, and leaned over the hood. Hey, don't puke on the car.

Speaker 2:
[09:42] I'm not going to puke.

Speaker 1:
[09:45] He stood up straight and looked at me like he was trying to prove he was sober and normal.

Speaker 2:
[09:51] I don't want to get into any trouble. The truth is, I was out driving with my girlfriend, and we got into an argument. You know, one thing led to another, and she kicked me out of the car. She might call in a domestic charge against me. I don't want to say, because I have some priors.

Speaker 1:
[10:12] What kind of priors?

Speaker 2:
[10:15] You know, Officer, I truly believe that once a man has paid off his debts to society, you should be allowed to put your past behind you and become whoever you want to be.

Speaker 1:
[10:27] That might be true, but in our system, you're stuck with your record forever. So?

Speaker 2:
[10:33] Ah, you know, larceny, aggravated assault, a couple of aggravated assaults.

Speaker 1:
[10:42] And the shoes?

Speaker 2:
[10:44] They must have come off when I got out of the car. Do you have anything to drink?

Speaker 1:
[10:49] Take a step back. I just assume everyone is lying to me all the time, unless there's some good reason to believe otherwise. That's the law enforcement bias. Still, I believed that this guy was thirsty. There was a half empty bottle of Gatorade that I got out of the back seat. I handed it to him, but he looked at it like I'd handed him a turd.

Speaker 2:
[11:13] There's no label. How do I know what flavor it is?

Speaker 1:
[11:16] It's orange. I just peeled the label off. Bad habit.

Speaker 2:
[11:21] I'm just supposed to take your word for it?

Speaker 1:
[11:24] He looked right at me, opened the bottle, and sniffed. It's orange. You can see it's orange.

Speaker 2:
[11:31] You think you can fuck with me like this just because you found me at a disadvantage with my footwear?

Speaker 1:
[11:38] He threw the bottle on the ground, and we both stood there watching the orange liquid pour onto the asphalt. I could smell that orange Gatorade smell. I pulled my jacket back and put my hand on my 357, but I didn't take it out. Have you had anything to drink today, sir?

Speaker 2:
[11:58] No. That's why I asked for a drink.

Speaker 1:
[12:02] Drugs?

Speaker 2:
[12:04] You gonna arrest me?

Speaker 1:
[12:05] His eyes locked back onto mine like he wanted to hold my gaze. His pupils were sharp and narrow. No. I'll drive you into town. But for my protection and yours, I'm putting you in cuffs, hands out front. I decided to put the cuffs out in front instead of the back, which left him a bit more mobile.

Speaker 2:
[12:26] Okay, I believe you. It was orange.

Speaker 1:
[12:28] Just put your hands out. He stuck his hands out. I patted him down. You got a weapon?

Speaker 2:
[12:40] No sir. Can't legally carry a weapon.

Speaker 1:
[12:43] To tell you the truth, I hadn't really patted people down that often. In the Bureau, we don't really deal with loons on the side of the street like this very often, which was fine with me. This guy smelled like shit when I got close to him. What's your name, buddy? I took a couple of steps back and got a breath of fresh air.

Speaker 2:
[13:03] Clay. Clay Buntzma. You need my ID?

Speaker 1:
[13:08] He was reaching around for his back pocket with both cuffed hands, looking for his wallet.

Speaker 2:
[13:14] Oh fuck.

Speaker 1:
[13:16] No, don't worry about it. I opened the door and put him in the back. He seemed resigned to his fate by now. He probably figured he was getting a ride into town and I wasn't arresting him, so best not to push his luck. Good. We drove in silence for a while, and I tried to go back to enjoying the scenery, but the stench from the back seat just soured the whole mood. I had to crack the windows in both sides with the electric window opener.

Speaker 2:
[13:47] Hey, it's cold back here.

Speaker 1:
[13:52] It was March, March 22nd to be exact. I turned the heat all the way up. The windows stayed open.

Speaker 2:
[14:01] You're here for the kiddos, right?

Speaker 1:
[14:04] I looked at him in the rearview mirror. His eyes were fixed on mine. I looked back up front and the sun was back in my eyes again. I didn't say anything. I watched as the telephone poles went past, since it was easier to watch them than to look straight ahead into the sun.

Speaker 2:
[14:23] I know they've found one of them. I'm honestly glad you came. There are some horrible people living out here that seem to get away with anything, and they need to be brought to justice. Those kids ran into one of the worse.

Speaker 1:
[14:39] Oh, yeah?

Speaker 2:
[14:41] Well, they must have. I bet none of those kids is alive.

Speaker 1:
[14:46] I squinted into the big sun that never seemed to set. I couldn't find the telephone poles anymore. My gaze wandered up to the rear-view mirror and clay's narrow pupils, and probably stayed there too long. The car skidded off the road.

Speaker 2:
[15:12] Looks like you found it.

Speaker 1:
[15:15] Wait here. I got out. The sun was still hanging there in the sky. I looked at my watch and wondered what time the sun would set. The front right tire was flat. I walked back up to the road. There were broken shards of glass all over. The bits of a Gatorade bottle. I'd driven right over it. Was it the same bottle? I looked around, and we were back at the Starlight Pond. The same pond. The trees? Impossible. I shook my head. I thought maybe I really was having a spell. How didn't I notice? Did I drive in a circle? I didn't remember taking any turns, but I was right back where I started. Everything looked the same here. I must have just gotten turned around somehow. I tried to remember if I had been driving away from the sun in the last few minutes. I was certain I'd been squinting the whole time. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me. I got that queasy dark feeling in my gut, like when you see a ghost. I knew where the spare tire was. It was in the trunk. I got it out okay, along with the jack. Clay giggled in the back seat.

Speaker 2:
[16:30] Don't they teach you guys how to follow a map?

Speaker 1:
[16:35] I stood there staring at the flat tire. Clay was watching me through the window.

Speaker 2:
[16:40] I could change the tire if you need me to.

Speaker 1:
[16:43] No, I've got it. I just kept staring at the flat.

Speaker 2:
[16:49] You sure?

Speaker 1:
[16:50] Yes. Come on, Harvey, you're an FBI agent for god's sake. Fix the tire and get the hell out of here. I knelt down to look at the flat tire.

Speaker 2:
[17:00] Take off the hubcap. Then you gotta take off the lug nuts, and you're gonna have to let me out, because you can't lift the car with me in here.

Speaker 1:
[17:09] I looked at him. He was giving me his most innocent look. But what the hell did I know? I opened the door, and he clambered out, and just stood there watching me with his handcuffed hands in front of him. I knelt down and grabbed the hubcap like I knew what I was doing, but it wouldn't budge.

Speaker 2:
[17:25] Just loosen it with that tool. Uncuff me, and I'll do it in ten minutes. I'm not gonna try anything.

Speaker 1:
[17:33] I grabbed the lug wrench, and used the pointed end to loosen the hubcap. It worked. I figured that would shut Clay up for the time being. Then I started loosening one of the lug nuts. I just about got it off.

Speaker 2:
[17:47] Jesus Christ, don't take it off. You gotta lift the car before he can get the wheel off.

Speaker 1:
[17:53] I didn't even turn around, but I could see that he was right. I grabbed the jack. I had no idea what to do with it.

Speaker 2:
[18:00] Okay, look under the car for a solid place to put the jack.

Speaker 1:
[18:04] I got down on one elbow to look under the car. He didn't kick me nearly as hard as he could have. Not nearly as hard as I probably deserved. How could I be such an idiot? For just a moment, as I sat there trying to figure out what had happened, the little lollipop ghost stared at me with its little black eyes and circular mouth. He was as shocked as I was. I turned over. Clay was running off into the trees, and I clambered to my feet and ran after him. A few steps down the path, the ground seemed to give way beneath my feet, and I felt like I was running on smoke. Clay disappeared around a bend in the trail, and the air was suddenly thick and electric. The dust was suspended and still in the sunlight, but everything felt like it was rising somehow. The sounds all stopped in their tracks. As I ran, a sickening black feeling came over me, like it was breathing down my neck, and along with that dark feeling came the uncanny sense that I was being chased. Clay, get back here. Now you are under arrest. My voice sounded small in the weird air. A strong whiff of burnt apple pie washed over me with an undercurrent of dead dog, which wasn't impossible in this garbage-strewn place. The smell made the dark feeling in my gut worse, but it passed over me and I kept chasing Clay. He was running pretty fast, even without swinging his arms. He followed the path through the trees. He had about a ten-second lead. Even with no shoes, he was pretty fast. He got to the pond and stopped, shoved his hand in his front pocket, and I thought I saw him throw something into the water. There were little ripples in the water now, and it felt like something cracked in the earth. Clay took off again, running along the rocky shore. I caught up. I tried to tackle him, but I sort of missed and just ended up more or less pushing him forwards. He stumbled a few steps trying to catch his balance, but with his hands cuffed, he just spun around and fell backwards into the scummy brown water. Maybe I could have reacted faster, but for some reason, I just watched the whole thing unfold in front of me. The water seemed to shift colors from blue to black and back to brown. The water looked like it was grainy one moment, and then turned back into water the next. Clay had kicked me so hard I was hallucinating. Maybe I'd pass out, but I didn't feel faint.

Speaker 2:
[21:02] Help me!

Speaker 1:
[21:03] The water wasn't that deep where we were, but with his handcuffs, Clay could hardly keep his head above the water.

Speaker 2:
[21:10] Hey!

Speaker 1:
[21:12] That awful dark feeling was still with me. I was transfixed watching Clay thrashing. The water seemed to thicken like it was grabbing him on purpose. It dawned on me that I really did have to get him out of there, hallucinating or not. More slowly than I should have, I took a few steps towards him. He somehow pushed himself out of the water long enough to yell at me.

Speaker 2:
[21:37] Move it, you stupid son of a bitch!

Speaker 1:
[21:41] I froze at those words. It's like part of me had been slashed open, and I had to retreat into the center of my mind. My feet wouldn't move, even though that man was floundering in the water and couldn't move his arms. In my mind, I was running over to help. Part of my brain kept telling my legs to go, but I was bolted to the ground. Clay's head kept bobbing up and down. He was gasping. His words echoed through my head like a bullet bouncing back and forth in my skull.

Speaker 2:
[22:13] Move it, you stupid son of a bitch!

Speaker 1:
[22:15] But then the water changed. I couldn't move, but the water? It bubbled all around me. There was a slow, otherworldly whoosh. The water turned black and caught fire. Shadows and little voices swirled around the trees, and the trees on the shore turned black and withered too. Shadows passed in front of me and all around, even though I couldn't see them. The whole pond was alight in weirdly slow-moving blue and yellow flames. Black smoke began to billow up to the darkening sky. Clay still thrashed in the water in front of me, and I still couldn't move. This wasn't a hallucination. This wasn't a spell. The volume was turned up too high. Was I having a complete breakdown? I closed my eyes and tried to breathe like the doctors told me. I breathed in and started coughing. The smoke was choking, thick. I opened my eyes. I couldn't see any sign of clay anymore. This wasn't my imagination. Clay was gone. This is Chris McClure, and that was episode one of Harvey in Hell. Besides me, this episode featured Michael Misurkovich as Clay. Season one will have 18 episodes, and I'll be releasing them every week. This fiction podcast received funding from the Canada Council for the Arts, and the actors were paid with funds from a successful Kickstarter campaign. Thank you for that. Ad-free episodes are available on Supercast. You can find that at harveyinhell.supercast.com, or you can go to the website at harveyinhell.com. In addition to ad-free episodes on Supercast, there is bonus material. There are interviews I conducted with several FBI agents, including one of the original profilers from the BSU. And there will also be behind-the-scenes looks at the podcast. And if you do sign up for Supercast, episode two is already available without any ads. Thank you very much. Hope to see you next week.