Old Gods of Appalachia - Stacking the Odds

Episode Date: December 25, 2024

"Stacking the Odds" was featured in the holiday live show Family Traditions, which was originally performed at the Orange Peel in Asheville, NC, in December of 2023.CW: Family strife, prophecy, mention of animal butchery, discussion of infertility, Christianity, baked goods. Written by Cam Collins and Steve ShellNarrated by Steve ShellSound design by Steve ShellProduced and edited by Cam Collins and Steve ShellThe voice of Nina Jennings: Shasparay IrvinThe voice of Tobias Underwood: D.J. RogersThe voice of Marigold Underwood: Stephanie Hickling Beckman.Outro music: “50 Second Instrumental” by Landon BloodSpecial equipment consideration provided by Lauten Audio.LEARN MORE ABOUT OLD GODS OF APPALACHIA: www.oldgodsofappalachia.comCOMPLETE YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA RITUAL:FacebookInstagramBlueskySUPPORT THE SHOW:Join us over at THE HOLLER to enjoy ad-free episodes, access exclusive storylines and more.Find t-shirts, hoodies, mugs, and other Old Gods merch at oldgodsmerch.com.Transcripts available on our website at www.oldgodsofappalachia.com/episodes.Support this show http://supporter.acast.com/old-gods-of-appalachia. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

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Right about now. Old Gods of Appalachia is our... a horror anthology podcast and therefore may contain material not suitable for all audiences. So listener discretion is advised. Old Gods of Appalachia presents stacking the odds. A tale for the season. Horror County, West Virginia. December 21st.

1939 Bauer County lay under a light blanket of snow that sparkled in the sunlight as Nina Jennings steered her car carefully up the road that wound around Oak Mountain to her mama's house snow flurries had come the previous afternoon growing a little heavier after dusk but by morning the skies are clear to the sun shone down melting the snow from the roads and making her visit possible

There are still a few icy patches in the areas where the trees cast more shade than the weak winter sun could penetrate so she took her time. But most of the trip had been easy, even pleasant as she drove through a sparkling winter wonderland. The trunk of Nina's packard held presents wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with ribbons of red and green yarn, a huge tin filled with sausage balls, and two long strands of cranberry and popcorn she'd strung together over the course of the last few evenings. Tonight, her family would gather to celebrate the winter solstice and trim the Christmas tree as they had every year since she could remember. They would not exchange gifts until Christmas Eve, but as Nina had finished wrapping all her gifts, she figured it was best to go ahead and bring them over and put them under the tree. Her cat, Mr. Biscuit, had an unfortunate habit of chewing the paper off of packages as well as a fondness for yarn. Nina pulled her car to a stop in front of the tidy white farmhouse.

Its bright blue shutters and matching rocking chairs gleamed in the sunlight with a fresh coat of paint her cousin Tobias had applied that summer. She began unpacking the car, loading up her arms with as much as she could safely carry. The front door was unlocked so she let herself inside, calling out a greeting as she crossed the threshold. Mama, I'm here. Merrick of the Underwood family and Fire of the Mountain. Known to just about everybody around these parts as Granny Underwood hollered to her from the back of the house.

I'm in the kitchen, darling. What I told you about slamming my door? Sorry, Mama. Got my arms full. I couldn't catch it. Merigold emerged from the kitchen to help her daughter, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She tied her hair up in a kerchief

and her apron was liberally dusted with flour. As Nina carried in an armload of gifts, she caught the door behind her and closed it gently. I see Tobias has already brought the tree. I didn't see his truck outside. He went out and cut one dime for me yesterday. Had to work this morning. He should be here directly.

The furniture in Marigold Underwood's parlor had been rearranged to accommodate a tall, lush, balsam fur that was placed in a bucket of water in front of the baywinder. The bucket had been cleverly concealed behind a draping of a pretty red and green plaid flannel, upon which Nina would eventually arrange the gifts she'd brought for the family. For now, she placed him in the hall closet so they wouldn't be underfoot during the tree trimming that evening. Where's that son-in-law mine? I thought you said Calvin was coming with you. He's over at the school. He decided the children could use one last rehearsal before the show on Saturday. Calvin Jennings was the teacher at the Booker School, a single room wooden structure in Cabrow,

which provided education for black children in Bair County aged 5 to 12. He had taken the position after he finished his training when Nina's brother-in-law, Victor, was promoted to superintendent of the County School District. As the sole instructor at the Booker, Calvin was responsible for everything from developing each day's multiple lesson plans to preparing school lunches to providing janitorial services and this year for directing the school's first annual Christmas pageant, the first he hoped of many more to come. He surely does love those children. He does. He's a great teacher. He would have made a good father if we've ever had any of our own. There's still time. if the Lord wills it, but it may be God just has other plans for you, baby.

Nina Jennings found she was not particularly disappointed that the home she and Calvin shared had not been blessed with children. When they had first married, they tried for a baby, but months and eventually years passed, and Nina never found herself with child. Her heart ached as she'd watched their friends and peers welcome new life into the world, and she saw the longing in her husband's eye. Calvin's mother had died when he was little more than an infant and his daddy never remarried. And while his father had several siblings and thus there were always plenty of cousins around to play with at family gatherings,

Calvin had grown up a little lonely. His daddy was a kind man, a loving father, but their home was a quiet place haunted by his grief. And Calvin dreamed of having a family of his own to fill his house with laughter and games and music and light and it had hurt. feeling she couldn't make that dream come true for him. As the years passed, however, and she watched as her peers grew tired, worn down by the sheer work or raising children, the constant pressure of making ends meet and the fear for their futures that kept them awake at night, Nina began to think perhaps it had been a blessing in disguise for her,

if not for Calvin. The life of a mother looked utterly exhausting to her, and she wasn't at all certain she was cut out for it. She found she was quite happy with the life. they enjoyed together. Their evenings spent curled up by the fire, playing cards or board games, listen to radio programs or reading books, volunteering with the church, helping her own mother with the work she did for their community. And thus she had taken her mama's advice to heart. If they were meant to have a child, then a child would come when the time was right. And if not,

then it simply wasn't meant to be. Calvin will be along later this evening. You come in and watch the Christmas pageant, aren't your mama? Why, I wouldn't miss it? I wouldn't miss it. Listen, it's not every day a woman gets to see her son-in-law's directorial debut. Don't you dare tell him that. That man is already planning how he can make the show bigger and better next year. He don't need you giving him a big head. I'll tell him whatever I won't. The two women continued bantering back and forth in the comfortable way of mothers and daughters

while Nina finished unloading the Packard. Though the majority of the Underwood clan would not arrive until around six that evening, Nina and Tobias had promised to come early to help with preparations. Their annual solstice celebration was a potluck, and everyone would bring a dish or two, but there was still plenty to do. Tobias would bring holly boughs and mistletoe and other decorative items from nature that needed hanging. Chairs would need to be brought into the parlor from other rooms or fetched up from the basement to ensure everybody had a place to sit. The good china had to be set out and the silverware polished, and of course there was the bacon. Marigold had spent the past few days making cakes, pies, and a seemingly endless array of cooking.

There were the holiday staples, pecan and mincemeat pies, fruit cakes, and bourbon balls, and then, of course, there was her famous apple stack cake. Granny Underwood's stack cake was a thing of legend, consisting of 12 and possibly thin, golden layers of molasses-flavored cake, each slathered with a healthy coating of spiced apple butter and sealed with yet another layer of the same. The cake had been wrapped and allowed to set for the peasant. past couple of days to soften and allow the glorious flavors to properly combine. Tradition held that the cake had to be tasted by at least 12 different people on the same day

it was cut to ensure good luck for the following year. For most folks, that part was little more than superstition. But a stack cake baked by Marigold Underwood, that was another matter altogether. It was one of the many subtle layers of protection she had been weaned. She had been weaving around her family since she was just a new bride, and it worked. It also tasted like pure heaven. So it had never been too much trouble to find 12 people willing to eat it. The difficulty was making it last through the 12. As Nina pulled a spare apron from the hook on the back of the kitchen door and tied it around her waist, the sound of tires crunching on gravel reached their ear. Gotta be Tobias. Nina and Marigold headed back into the parlor, just as Tobias Underwood walked through

the door dressed in a fluffy red and white Santa suit, complete with stocking cap. Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas. The two women laughed delightedly. Where on earth did you find that? One of the fellas at work asked for wanted it. Sadie outgrew it. It's nice, right? Yes, nephew, you make a right handsome Santa Claus, but I hope you bought a change of clothes because we got work to do. Oh, oh yeah, I got my street clothes on underneath it. I just thought you ladies might like a preview. Tobias stripped off the Santa suit, which was getting a little warm already, and the three of them got to work. Nina and Tobias swept and mopped floors, hung decorations, and saw the other matters of setting up for the party, while Granny Underwood finished the last ever cooking.

By the time family and friends began to arrive, there were candles lit in each winter. The doorways were strung with mistletoe. The mantle had been draped in bounds of holly and fur, and the sideboard was stocked with an amazing assortment of sweets. In the dining room, the long table had been set up buffet-style, while the chairs had been moved to the parlor. Nina's sausage ball sat at one end to the table and were soon joined by a wide array of other finger foods, including her older sister's deviled eggs and Tobias's pigs in a blanket, a perennial favorite of the grandchildren. Marigold's apple stack cake held pride of place, situated on a silver cake tray that had been an anniversary gift from her late husband Lee some years ago. Mama, your cake looks beautiful.

I don't think I've ever seen you make one so pretty. She ain't lying, Auntie. There's one fine-looking cake. You sure I can't just scooch on in here? The speed with which Marigold Underwood smacked her nephew's hand away was like the kiss of a hummingbird's wing. Too fast to be perceived by the eyes of man. Nah, um, boy, get your hands back.

You know better. I'll let you know when it's time. The distribution of Granny Underwood's Applestack cake was serious business. The 12 slices had to be consumed on the same night, and the baker of the cake could not be the one to eat the first or final slice. It was preferable that some slices be consumed by blood relations and others by guests, although the precise distribution was of little matter. This year, Nina and Calvin would have the first two slices.

Tobias would take the third. The fourth and the fifth were promised to two of Marigold's closer neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Sinsibaw, who had come to see her regarding their daughter's prospects for marriage in the coming year. Now, this was accomplished by a midnight visit to the pig pen to see whether an old pig or a young pig would speak first. If an old pig gave the first grunt, then the young woman in question would marry an older man, while a younger pig squealing heralded matrimony with a younger suitor. And sure enough, a handsome young pig spoke right upon their approach, and either for slop or for fear that his time had come.

The Sinsibons were thrilled, and Mery Gold had invited them to her annual solstice potluck and tree trimming for a slice of apple stack cake to add a little luck to the girl's prospects. What she had not mentioned to the Sinsabon's was that when that Porsan prophet had cried out to greet them, she hadn't heard a squeal of the usual sort. Instead, that little future barbecue had looked her right in the eye and spoke Her name.

Marigold. Just like that. Marigold. Granny Underwood had quickly turned away and hurried the censor balls along. In the general run of things, hearing an animal speak could mean any number of things. Animals speaking near the solstice, however, was a particularly bad omen. It wasn't as bad as few sat under a pine tree on Christmas Day, which was a surefire way to make sure you didn't live to see the next one. but it wasn't good where gold was worried.

The signs had been unclear in every attempt at divination she'd made in the week leading up to the turning of the season, and this didn't help matters. It had been a long and difficult year for Bauer County and the family. Early in the year, the union got on strike at the cabra of mine, situation that had dragged on for months and resulted in bloodshed on both sides before an agreement was reached and work resumed. There had been an outbreak of measles, which several of her grandchildren, children had caught. Tobias had broken his arm back in the spring and been laid up out of work for weeks, although, to be fair, he had painted the house late that summer by way of helping regain his strength, and it was looking mighty fine. Her daughter Tilly had endured a rough pregnancy and ended up

confined to bed for its two final months, requiring everyone in the family to pitch in and look after her other two youngans while her husband was at work. As 1939 drew to a close, however, things had begun to look up. All she needed now was a little. some little sausage factory bringing bad luck to their door. While the cake wasn't the only working she would perform to ensure her family's peace in the coming year, she was determined to do everything in her power to ensure it was a success. Slice number six would go to Mr. Jenkins, who lived a few miles down the road on the way to town. Delmar Jenkins, bitter-ass old miser that he was, became an absolute sweetheart from Thanksgiving through Boxing Day.

Marigold figured it was because he was half-lit most of the time, but every Christmas Day for as long as she and Doc had lived on Oak Mountain, that crabby old son bitch had turned up with a dozen eggs and a box of chocolates for their house. He'd continued this tradition after Doc passed. Even began dropping off eggs every now and again, otherwise checking in on her. So he too had earned his spot at the family solstice party. Mergold herself would take the seventh slice, seven being both generally an auspicious number and Doc's birthday.

She heard the sound of footsteps on the porch, and Nina called out... Mama, Tamara and Perry are here with Jeremiah and Gregory. Oh, looks like the sensible's in the hawk with some church are coming up to drive, too. Marigold remained focused on her stack cake, running through the last five intended recipients in her head. Auntie, you all right? What? Oh, I'm all right. Just want to make sure everybody's got plenty to eat.

With all due respect, Auntie, don't play with me. Toe bias. I'm sorry, ma'am, but I know that tone. That's the way you used to talk to me before. Before, you know, before I knew. Knew what, nephew? You know about this hoodoo shit. Tobias, language.

Ah, auntie, now that was not even fair and you know it. I'm sorry, boy. Sometimes it's just too easy and I can't resist. I'm fine, Tobias. I've seen the way you've been looking at a kick all night. What's going on, Auntie? Wait, the cake ain't like haunted or nothing, is it? Don't tell me we can't eat the cake because there's a hain' in it.

They ain't no hain' that cake, baby. We're going to eat it. We're going to eat all of it. We got to. You know that. Before Tobias could ask anything else, Mary Gold Underwood went to hug her grandbabies and make sure everyone had full plates were on their way to having full bellies.

Tobias noticed that she kept. dying the stack cake and glancing around the room nervously. He saw her visibly relax a little when her Bible study and crocheting companion Martha Ann showed up with her best friend and roommate, Miss Barbara, slices number 10 and 11 respectively. Tobias made his way across the rapidly filling parlor and pulled Nina away from an undoubtedly thrilling conversation with her husband and brother-in-law about grading standards in the county school system for which she seemed grateful. Have you noticed that Auntie is acting a little, I don't know, strange this evening? I mean, she's got a house full of family.

She don't run herself ragged getting all the food ready. She might be a little tired. You think she might be a little fixated on the stack cake this year? Like, no matter who she's talking to or what else goes on, she keeps checking on. Look, look, that she go again. Granny Underwood sat on the sofa next to her. grandson Gregory, who was talking animatedly about all the things he hoped saying he might bring him that year. She kept nodding distractedly, her eyes flicking to the window, then back to the cake,

before returning to Gregory and his story. It just wasn't like her at all. There was one thing you'd normally have to pry marigold away from. It was her grandchildren. See, she keeps looking out the window like she's expecting someone or some thing. I don't know what the cake got to do with it, but we might have trouble and she wouldn't tell me nothing. I don't know, Tobias. I mean, did you ask her directly if anything was wrong? I did. And she tried to distract me.

She kept making jokes and brushing me off. Nina, she was talking to me like I don't know nothing about, you know. Who do shit? Yes. Well, we can stand out here whispering about it or we can ask her like grown folks. I just saw her go in the kitchen. Come on. The cousin stepped over to the kitchen door and peered inside.

Marigold Underwood paced the linoleum with the nervous energy most often seen in the hospital waiting room. She wrung her hands and muttered to herself, and when she started toward the door back into the parlor, no doubt to double check on the cake again, they quickly stepped inside. Tobias shut the door behind them. Mama, are you okay? Tobias is worried about you. Why you got to put it on me? You hush. Go change into your Santa outfit.

Give me and Mama some privacy. You're worrying me, Mama. Please tell me what's going on. Nina, honey, we can talk about it later. I just need to see it. Tobias is right. You keep watching the windows. You're hovering over the apple stack cake like it's a pot about to boil over.

Mama, what's wrong? Is something coming? Do we need to be ready? Cheers erupted from the next room and a mighty, ho ho! Reach their ears as Tobias made his entrance as Santa. Honey, I just want to be sure that cake is eating for midnight. We need every little.

little bit of good fortune we can get this coming year if it's anything like the last one. Tobias getting hurt, people getting sick, and there's darker things stirring out there in the world. I can feel it. You got three black folks in one house with gifts like ours. You have to know trouble will come calling. On top of all that, a pig spoke to me today. A pig spoke to you. Mm-hmm.

Looked me dead in the eyes. I instead my name. That's not good. No, it's not. Little bastard's lucky he ain't ham and biscuits by now. But Mama, everybody always eats your cake. Usually there's hardly any crumbs left. You give it to people who love and appreciate you.

Sharing that delicious thing that you work so hard on lets them know that they're loved and appreciated too. How could we not get that blessing? I might have messed up. You know, Tilly and Perry couldn't make it this year. I know, but, Paris people deserve to see them babies too. You think I don't know that. But it leaves us one piece short without your brother-in-law here to eat it.

So I asked somebody else and they ain't showed up and I'm starting to worry they may not make it. They probably don't understand how important sharing in this is our family. Not understand. Mama, who did you ask? I was down at the bank handling some business and that nice Mr. Roe who works at the front counter. wish me a Merry Christmas I wished him one back You know he's a handsome young man And he said

You have a good holiday Miss Underwood And save me a piece of that stack cake now I said I would And in fact He could come join us for a tree trimming And have a piece when it's nice and fresh Wait Kenny Roe

That white boy that used to work at the gas station Until his daddy got him a job at the bank you promised him a piece of cake. He'd just been so helpful, and he is a handsome boy. And I was just caught up in the holiday spirit as a- Mama, why would he come all the way out here just to get a piece of cake? The rows are town folk. They don't come up on the mountain.

I am very much aware of that, baby. I just thought it might help us to spread the luck around, introduce some new energy. Well, even if Mr. Big Shot Banking, Jake Job Row doesn't come see us. It's not like you don't have other protections in place. Bad stuff's come before. Hell, Mama, we've gone chasing after it if we're honest. Nina! Language. The kitchen door swung open and Tobias, who had overheard the last bit of their conversation came into the kitchen, still marrying his red and white suit.

Nina's right, Auntie. We've been through a lot this past year, sure. But we've faced worse before. And no matter what comes, we'll face it together. You taught us that. All right, all right. I hear you. Let's go cut this cake and get on with it. Oh, almost forgot. I was coming in here to tell you there's some white boy on the porch,

say something about the bank? Marigold Underwood tore past her nephew and daughter and blew into the parlor like a hurricane. A timid blonde man in his mid-twent 20s stood in the doorway, holding a pair of white gloves, looking very uncomfortable to be the palest face in the room and the sudden focus of everyone's attention. Mr. Roe.

Hi, Miss Underwood. You left your gloves on the counter at the bank yesterday. My daddy suggested I bring them up to you, customer service and all that. We appreciate y'all for being loyal customers all these years. Daddy said even when folks were scared to keep their money in banks after the stock market crashed, you kept your accounts open with us, helped keep food on the table when times were bad. Well, I thank you, Mr. Roe.

That is very thoughtful. You give my best to your daddy. Why don't you stay and have a piece of that cake, I promised you? I should really get going. Sit down, Kenny. You eating this cake. And with that, Mary Gold Underwood cut and served her famous apple stack cake. It was sweet and spicy, golden and delicious as always.

The solstice had come, and the Underwood House met it with good food, good friends, and good fortune. Today's story was written by Cam Collins and Steve Schell. Our intro and outro music is by Brother Landon Blood. The voice of Nina Jennings was Chasperay Urban. The voice of Tobias Underwood was DJ Rogers. And the voice of Marigold Underwood, Fire of the Mountain, was Stephanie Hickling Beckman. Happy holidays from all of us here at Deep Nerd Media. And we'll talk to you soon, family.

Talk to you real soon.