THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF BUHING ... A lot more formal than I was. I started off with a hey, how are you? Anything I can do for you? Was that... Do you think that would be more effective than my, you know... I don't know. You seem like a bit of a formal guy. You don't want to try and come across as something you're not. Ghosts, I don't know if they're good at detecting lies or something, but... They're usually real sick of bullshit. And my name is Christopher Caldwell. Bone cancer. Died here in the Greybrier, if you can believe it. I wasn't aware of that. The bone cancer? Or the fact that I died in the Greybrier? I wasn't aware of either, but I'm surprised you died in the Greybrier. Bone cancer, I assume you'd die in a hospital or in hospice care. Yeah, bone cancer's a tough way to go. I'm sorry. It's all right. My sister, she was a baker. Well, still is. I'm the wuzz. She made these amazing cakes, wedding cakes mostly. Too pretty to eat almost. Almost. But she'd have to sift through all this flour, and with this huge sieve, and she'd shake the flour so it fell out. Like snow, getting all spread out. Your body feels like that when you got cancer like I got. Your soul feels it too. Like it's just passing through, snowing down, about to become something new. I can't imagine. Can't you? You watch someone you love die slowly. You get a pretty good idea. My grandmother died of, well, my grandparents died of old age, but my closest experience with death was, well, sorry, I don't know why I'm dancing around it. My parents died in a car crash a few years ago. I'm sorry. That's all right. Different type of pain. Everyone still says I'm sorry, and everyone still says I'm alright. Yeah, like they were reading a script. It's interesting. Death is the one thing that everyone deals with. You think it would be, if not easy to talk about, the conversations would be more useful. Yeah. So, this is your plan? Excuse me? You talk all philosophical with me, talk about life and death, then you turn the conversation to me passing on, going through the onyx door. That's what you're thinking? Not really. I usually ask them questions about their life, figure out what they want to talk about, try and learn what's keeping them here, and then attempt to talk them through it. I must say, your notes didn't exactly give a lot of guidance. Sorry, I'm not complaining or anything. Guy before me, I apprenticed with him. Showed me the ropes in the job. Didn't get a chance to. I wrote them after I learned I was sick. They're not as detailed as they could be. I'm sorry. It's alright. I didn't know that much. Probably couldn't have done a good job even if my skeleton didn't feel like it was cracking apart. And don't say I'm sorry. This is going to be a long conversation if you keep saying that. I'm... I understand. But you know more now, now that you're a spirit. You'd think that, wouldn't you? Excuse me? Well, I know why they call it the Onyx Door. I always wondered that, if it was a figure of speech, or do ghosts have tall tales? Maybe they do. But the Onyx Door, it's not one of them. It's this thing. Not on the edge of your vision exactly, but something you know it's there. And you don't see it exactly. It's like how you know someone is behind you. By the breath or their body heat or some other sense I don't know the name of. It's a door. You can enter it anytime. And it's onyx. It's made of onyx. I bet half the spirits don't even know what onyx is. I sure didn't. Had to look it up the first time a ghost mentioned it. But that's what it's made of. And you know that. As sure as the fact that you can go through it anytime you want to. You just need to open the door. Have you learned anything else? Yeah. I know how being a spirit feels like. And? It doesn't feel all that different from being a person. I was thinking I'd feel wispy, I guess. But nah, I feel solid. When I pat my head or whatever, I feel it. Don't need to eat or drink or take a shit, but other than that, I guess I could walk through walls or something. But I tried it once. It feels like being cold and hot at the same time. Aside from that, don't know much. You ever tried asking a ghost about the big questions? Tried to get some specifics on heaven or hell? Ask about dead loved ones? No, I... you told me that... You weren't curious? Of course I'm curious. You wrote in your notes that I shouldn't. That was one of the few things you were very clear on. I wrote that so you wouldn't piss off the ghosts. You don't want to make them think you're using them. Like asking about their harder sister on a first date. Most of the spirits I talked to were curious about what was beyond the onyx door Some were scared They didn appear as though they knew anything about the afterlife beyond their immediate surroundings Well, I can confirm. Ghosts don't know shit. Just like people. I learned pretty quick working here that you don't quit being a person just because you've died. Hmm. Can I say something a bit? I don't want to be rude, but... Shit. The old ghosts must love how formal you are, right? I think that the 19th century ghosts appreciate it, yes, though it varies based on their class. Yeah, just say what you want to say. I must admit, I'm surprised you're here. Really? Employees get a discount plot once they've put in their ten years. Where else would I be? Here with me, I mean. Originally, I assumed you would just pass on immediately, but when I tried to call on you to ask questions about, well, you wouldn't come. I assumed you weren't going to see me at all, or at least not for a few more years. Yeah. I... You haven't been at the job that long. No, not that long. And how have you found it? Getting back to my original point, I'm curious as to why you're here, rather than past the Onyx door, or malingering, as I believe you used to call it. You've only been here a little bit, but you get the convo back on track. That's good. And how do you know I'm not planning to linger? Maybe I just want to check in on my successor. Is that what you're doing? Maybe it's time for me to leave. Maybe it's not. Hm. Helpful. Yeah. You ever wonder why you're supposed to help the ghost pass on, Mal? Hey, the notes you left say it's important to give the spirits peace. To let them move on to whatever awaited them. And you think Newby gives out a full-time position to make some ghosts feel better? With health care? To be fair, it isn't good health care. Still. I have grown to suspect that having a large concentration of spirits, even if they don't interact with the world directly, that it can cause, I'm not sure of the exact word for it, strangeness, maybe, a sense of unease. It feels different, right? Walking through the Greybriar. Even for people who can't see him, there's a little tension in the hairs right below their neck, right above their ass. It's not a bad thing. It lets you know you're in a special place. But there's a different kind of hair. Like that feeling you get right before a storm. The ozone. Sure. And I suspect that, if there are too many spirits, then the feeling becomes larger, more menacing. Thus, my job, and the recording equipment. Why am I supposed to record, by the way? Your notes were extraordinarily unclear on that point. The recorder? You know, I'm not sure. The guy before me was a radio hobbyist or whatever. He told me that recording everything helped. Maybe it's easier to call on them, and easier to get them to pass on. Not sure why, but he swore it was true. So, better safe than sorry. So if I... Trust me, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Try to do one without a recorder. Maybe it was just my nerves, but it didn't go so good. Understood. And yeah, that feeling gets bigger if there are too many ghosts that don't pass on, but that's not why I asked them to hire you. Excuse me? Not you, exactly. A historian. Someone with experience talking to ghosts, metaphorically or whatever. And why would you want that? For most of my job, it wasn't that important to get the ghost to pass on. I talked to them, sure. Let them know that there was nothing wrong with it. Didn't want them... Didn't want the bar to become too crowded. You know about the bar, right? The bar that isn't called Spirits? They think they're so goddamn funny. Christopher, you were talking about... Yeah. Most of the conversations would end with the ghost staying a little while longer. They just needed time, that was all. No need to force anything. And if they got to have a little fun in the afterlife, chatting with the ghost, chatting with me, reminiscing, what's the harm in that? I made sure there weren't too many, you know? But... Yes? I started to feel at the bridge of my nose like a sneeze that wouldn't come out. Not like the normal feeling in the Greybriar. Not the feeling like you were in. Not the feeling like you were in... Sacred place, an other place, but something else. Then I started having dreams. What were the dreams about? I dreamed I was in the center of a pool. And the water was thick and black, like oil. Or ink. or no it wasn that It was like the absence of anything And I swam and swam I tried to get to the edge of the pool I could just make it out in the distance And I struggled through the water that wasn water getting it in my eyes and mouth It tasted like It tasted sharp, like wine. But like the wine went bad somehow. Like it was punishing me for drinking it. I swam and I swam and my whole body got tired and sore. But I made it. I made it to the edge. And I tried to get out of the pool, but the edge was... It was slanted. There were no steps, just a slope, a sloping edge, that I couldn't get a grip on. Made of rough cement or stone, I just couldn't get out of. It just slipped out of my hands, and my hands got cut up from the scraping, and the water burned the open wounds that had seeped in, and... I tried and I tried and I struggled and... till my arms couldn't work anymore. I sank into the water that wasn't water and... bobbed for a bit. Trying to breathe. Keep getting a little of it in my mouth. And I was hyperventilating. And the smell would hit me and make it so... I couldn't even open my mouth to breathe. I sank further and further and it filled my eyes and then it filled my mouth and then it filled my lungs and then you woke up yeah I should have known I had cancer then when I started to feel like that I should have known I was close to death That's... There's something even darker, an absence of light itself in the Greybriar. I could feel it when I started to die. And I feel it now that I'm dead. The other ghosts, I think they feel it too. Do they talk about it? They never directly. But? I've had suspicions that there was something, a sort of edge to their worry. A mention of secrets, but maybe... No, no, no. No maybes. It's real. I know it like the onyx door's real. Then, what is it? An absence. The black pool. I can't put it into words, but... You need to get the ghosts out. You need to get them to leave. I... Should learn more about the... No! You need to get them to leave, and you can't tell them about the black pool. They'll just... I know them. They're stubborn. It's my job. I was planning to help them pass on anyway. I understand. Do you? I'm sorry. Do you really? I... Have you ever thought about why you can talk to ghosts? It's not some family inheritance, not some skill you picked up on. Newby said that, well, without really saying it, she said that it was part of the job. Yeah, well, a job can always be taken away from you, Mal. What are you doing? Let's say this is a... What did Newby call them? A performance evaluation. The knack passed from me to you. And I was at the job for a lot longer. I can take it back if I really want to. Christopher, this is... So tell me, Mal. Do you think you're good at this job? That's... Mal. Do you think you're worthy of it? Being their... confessor? Being their... I don't know what to call you. Call us? But it's... Are you up for it? I... Yes. Yes. It's... I think I'm doing important work, and I think I'm good at it, and I enjoy it. I enjoy talking to the spirits, learning about their lives, learning about who they were, who they are. It's... Christopher, are you alright? You trying to change the subject, Mal? No, I'm trying to learn what's really going on. Well, tell me, what's going on? I think you've left your work in good hands. I think whatever's going to happen, I'll take care of it, and I think you can rest now. You know I died at the Greybriar, right? You told me, yes. I wanted to be surrounded by the people I cared about, the ghosts. I was never much good at getting close to living people but ghosts They surrounded me dozens of them all crowded around my gravestone I clutched it as I died. There was something, something I liked in that image. What I could see all of them, all the permanent residents surrounding me. Guess they were returning the favor, helped some of them pass on. Now they were helping me pass on. I think... There's something beautiful in that. I don't know. Maybe I could have been better at... Talking to people in the real world. Told my sister I loved her more. I feel like I should tell you... Not to make all your connections in the graveyard. But... There were still connections. Every single ghost I've talked to. Every single one of them. They don't feel like their life is finished. They didn't do everything they wanted. Didn't say everything they wanted. Maybe it's because I'm talking to the ghosts that are sticking around. Maybe the ones who open the Onyx door immediately feel complete. But I don't know. I thought the fact that I talked with the ghosts would make me better at leaving things behind. But it's hard. It's still hard. I couldn't leave without... Without knowing that your work would be finished. Yeah. I guess you'll do for that. But I think there's more. I went to the bar after I died. How was it? They were nice. The Irish maid. What's her name? Bridget? Bridget? She told me not to tell you too much about it. Wait, why... Said the spirits should keep some of their mysteries. But she said it in a better accent. But even when I was in the bar, I felt... I'd seen them from the other side too much. Like going to the play if you've already seen the rehearsals. And I still felt that nothingness creeping in the back of my mind. I can't stay here, Mal. I didn't think you would have let me call on you if you were going to stay. Well, sometimes we just need to know the world will continue, even if we won't. It will. And I'll investigate whatever it was you felt. You do that. You... keep doing what you're... what I did? Yes. I'll... do my very best. The performance evaluation went well, I take it? Yeah. I'm not a newbie. I'm not going to require a form or whatever. I've seen a lot of ghosts do what I'm about to do. Didn't realize how... how scary it would be. But what if there's nothing? Or what if there's hell? What if I'm judged unfairly? Or fairly? Or... I'm here. I'll be here Yeah, yeah, alright Take good care of the Greybrier I will I'll see, well I'll see you when I see you Bye Christopher Christopher Caldwell. Passage completed. Hey everyone, thanks so much for listening to this season of Conversations with Ghosts. This is the last episode for now, and we're taking a little break to focus on some other projects. Mark is currently hard at work on a novel. It's not related to Archive 81 or any of our shows, but I can assure you it's going to be just as good. and I'll be focusing on releasing my own music both through my Party Coffee label and other places if you'd like to keep up with what we're doing you can follow both Mark and I on Instagram and Blue Sky we'll link to our handles in the show notes if you're new to Dead Signals and want more like Conversations with Ghosts we luckily have a lot of other audio projects out in the world that you can check out our shows Archive 81 and The Deep Vault can be found anywhere you get your podcasts and our spoken word concept album Generation Crossing is available on all major music streaming platforms. You can also subscribe to our Patreon to get access to Transmission, the very first show Mark and I ever made together, as well as music, behind-the-scenes Q&As, and more. Thanks so much for listening, and we'll hopefully see you soon. Thank you.
