Welcome to Night Vale - 151 - The Waterfall

Episode Date: August 1, 2019

Josh Crayton finds that he has lost a very important ability. This episode was co-written with Brie Williams. Weather: “Always Right” by Anne Reburn http://youtube.com/AnneReburn New “Weird is Where the Heart Is” cross-stitch t-shirt now available on our store: https://topatoco.com/products/cpb-wtnv-weirdheart Don’t miss A SPY IN THE DESERT live next month across the US and Canada: http://www.welcometonightvale.com/live/ Music: Disparition http://disparition.info Logo: Rob Wilson http://robwilsonwork.com Written by Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor. Narrated by Cecil Baldwin.  http://welcometonightvale.com Follow us on Twitter @NightValeRadio or Facebook. Produced by Night Vale Presents.  http://nightvalepresents.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Howdy y'all. It is Jeffrey Craneer. I'm not sure which episode of Welcome to Nightville you're listening to, but I am speaking to you from April of 2026. And I'm here to tell you we're going to be in Europe. If you want to see Nightville live and you're going to be in Europe, come check us out at the end of May. We're going to be in Edinburgh on May the 27th. We will be in Manchester on the 28th, London on the 29th, and Amsterdam on May the 30th. Just go to Welcome to Nightville.com slash live to see the show dates and to get your tickets. This is. our newest Nightville live show Murder Night in Blood Forest. It is so much fun. Please come check it out. Also, coming up this month here in April, it is the return of Alice Isn't Dead, brand new episodes of our other crazy hit podcast. This is written by Joseph Fink, produced and with music by Dysperition and starring Jacique and Nicole. So make sure you are still subscribed to Alice Isn't Dead and go get those on April the 13th as new episodes come out. Finally, speaking of other shows, do you want to hear us talk about other things? things. We have three other really great chat shows. First of all, there's Good Morning Nightvale for all of your Nightvale needs. You can hear Hal, Meg, and Symphony talk about every single

episode in order of Welcome to Nightvale. Also, we have Random Horror Number Nine. That is me and Nightville star Cecil Baldwin talking about horror movies one at a time in a random order. And then Joseph and Meg do best, worst, which is a really fun podcast where they look at hit TV shows and they review the best rated on IMDB, the worst rated on IMDB, and if you're a Patreon member, they will review the middleest rated on IMDB. So check out all of those at nightfallpresents.com or just wherever you get your podcast. And hey, thanks. One morning, as Josh Creighton was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in bed, he had been changed into a towering, gushing waterfall. Welcome to Nightvale.

The alarm had been going off for a while, but Josh hadn't heard it. Now he was going to be late. More upsetting than that, his bed was soaking wet. Josh was mortified until he realized that he had changed into the shape of a waterfall at some point during the night. Josh was used to changing shapes. He had been born a shapeshifter after all. But he rarely changed into something he hadn't intended to, never in his sleep. and he could always change back easily.

Now, no matter how hard he tried, he just kept pouring and cascading and splashing over rocks and being super annoyingly loud. Something had gone very wrong. Lately, Josh had been staying in the form of a human teenage boy. He had grown to like his human shape. At times he even thought it was handsome.

some in an understated kind of way. Last night at a party was the first time he had used his abilities in forever. He normally didn't like to use shape-shifting as a party trick, but last night had been different. He wanted to impress the boy. Josh changed into all the shapes the boy requested, including a bunch he had never thought to try, like Mochi ice cream, primordial jungle flora, a bad idea, a hasty plan, and the gear shift knob from a Nash Rambler. He'd seen the boy in class before, but had barely noticed him to be honest.

Once they started talking, the boy had become very noticeable. He was laid back, yet keenly alert, like a hawk, soft-safed. spoken yet hilarious, also like a hawk. Teasing yet kind. Like a very attractive hawk. At the end of the night, Josh wrote his number on the boy's red plastic cup in Sharpie and walked home smiling, even though it was late, and he had to get up early the next morning to retake his driving test for the fifth time.

He was 18 and still without a license. Every time he had taken the test before, he got nervous and turned into a shape that was utterly unfit to drive. A rhinoceros. A warm hug from an old friend. A bookshelf filled with first edition Zadie Smith's. Oh, I haven't read Swing Time yet. Shoshana from the DMV had said, plucking the book off of him, before failing him for not having eyes with which to check his mirrors. The alarm sounded again. Josh tried to calm his friend. rising panic, but it was difficult to do with the constant roaring of falling water in his ears and his distractingly chill body temperature.

He closed his eyes and repeated a mantra he once heard on a Home Depot radio ad. A triple thick roof of natural cedar shingles. A triple thick roof of natural cedar shingles. It always helped him feel. feel more grounded. But no matter how he felt or what he tried, he was still a waterfall, tumbling and plunging and rambling along in picturesque tributaries against his will. Josh knew he couldn't drive a car in his condition. He probably couldn't even open the door handle. And if somehow, he managed to pass the exam, the thought of getting his picture taken like this

was embarrassing at best. There was nothing. he could do but sit in his room and froth and foam and swirl. By Monday, the situation still hadn't cleared up. Josh wanted to stay home from class, but his mother Diane, whom he still lived with, made him go. She said that he was obsessing over his looks, and that no one would even notice, and that he was already nearly failing his history and English courses. And did he want to get put on academic probation his very first year in college? Josh couldn't argue with this, mainly because there were too many different ideas all smashed together, and it was easier to just do as she said. His friends on campus thought it was a joke at first. Josh tried to be casual about it.

He told them that he was stuck like this at the moment. They were very understanding and treated him just the same as always. He actually started to feel better about the whole thing, and that maybe he was silly for having been stressed about it at all. In his first class, however, he was sent to the dean's office for creating a distraction. He went without argument, and explained that this was a physical condition beyond his control and not some immature hazing prank. He received an apology and was sent back to class with an administrative note in case this became a recurring issue. The note had to be laminated and waterproofed, which took some time, and Josh missed an important quiz.

In the quad, an engineering student that Josh barely knew ran right through him on a dare from her friends. She didn't even make eye contact with him, just ran away shrieking, while her squad roared with laughter at the picnic tables. Josh left campus soon afterwards, not caring about flunking or vanity or whatever else he was supposed to care about. He felt violated and angry and also ashamed of himself. These were not sensations he was used to feeling, and on top of that, he had started to grow moss along his ledge, which felt slimy and gross, and could not be ignored. his self-consciousness had become overwhelming. Josh sat behind the desert flower bowling alley,

drinking a blue slurpy, and watching himself babble all over the hard-packed sand. He felt some relief in being alone, and in being somewhere that his shape wouldn't have any consequences, unless, he supposed he stayed there too long and formed a river or something like that. He thought of going way out, in the desert and becoming an oasis. That might be exciting. He could donate himself as a public

service to the thirsty animals and exiled citizens and feral toddlers that roamed the land. He could create a grove of green trees and lush plants, a refuge for new life, maybe even new species of life, all springing forth from his gushing, messy body. He pictured a furry lizard with several blinking golden eyes. He pictured a one-legged bird with psychic abilities. He pictured the years melting away. The oasis growing. A green valley emerging.

Then multiple valleys. A new civilization might form, rising around the ebb and flow of his waters, growing from mud huts to ziggurots to steel towers, and eventually again decaying again to mud huts before disappearing for good. And all the while Josh would be there, steadily supplying the lifeblood of their earthbound existence. Suddenly his phone vibrated in the crevice of his rocky outcropping. There was a text from an unknown number. It read,

Hey, Mochi, followed by an emoji of a winking face. Want to do something later? And that was followed by an emoji showing the entirety of possible human free time activities. This was obviously sent by The Boy from The Party. The surge of excitement ignited by these six words was instantly extinguished by heavy, wet dread. Josh cringed at the thought of the boy seeing him like this and of trying to explain it to him. They didn't know each other that well and it was just too awkward. Josh tried to change shape again now with renewed effort.

He wanted to see the boy later and in order to do that he needed to not be a waterfall. After an hour of intense concentration and no results, his phone vibrated again. This is Monty, by the way, we met at the party. Josh Burbled in frustration. He thought of several texts he could send back, but none of them were the text he really wanted to send, which was, yeah, I know who you are, L.O.L. Let's meet up. After a moment of staring helplessly at his screen,

he turned his phone on silent and put it back under his outcropping. Josh stayed behind the bowling alley for a long time. churning and flowing and watching the sunset over the dumpsters. He noticed a thick vapor hanging in the sky above him and wondered if he was affecting the weather. You're always right. He's always right. Even when he's wrong. You're always right.

Retroactively change your reality. Rather than choose to confess or admit he did something unsatisfactory or he was in the wrong I've ever tried to fight Block it out Block it out I can't hear you I can't hear you

It's not worth it He can't hear you He won't hear you Songs about you You're right You always are you You're always right You're not my Mr. Right

And I know that I'm right Because you agree Josh skipped class the rest of that week he sometimes went to the movie theater during the day. Usually nothing was playing, but it was at least dark and empty and quiet. And the staff there seemed to appreciate how Josh inadvertently cleaned away the sticky soda and popcorn spills from the floor. They gave him free lifetime passes and encouraged him to return often. He missed the deadline for an essay, which meant that he would probably fail English for real.

He ignored calls and texts. He couldn't stand the thought of being around people. Instead of getting used to his new shape, he just became colder, wetter, slimier, and more uncomfortable by the day. Finally, on Friday around 5 p.m., Josh was spotted by some friends who were cruising around town, bumping NPRs all things considered on a subwifer and looking for mischief. They called out to him and pulled over. They were excited to see him and asked all kinds of questions. Was he sick?

Where had he been? There were rumors going around campus about him. What was the real story? Josh didn't know how to answer, so he just shrugged and bubbled and eddied around their tires. They were in an old pickup truck that they had just purchased real cheap from John Peters, you know, the farmer, and planned to take it out driving super-fitting. fast through the sand wastes. Did Josh want to come?

Josh did want, but he hesitated, eyeing the small cab that would definitely not fit his body. But, on an impulse, Josh jumped into the truck bed, ricocheting off the sides in big, embarrassing splashes. Everyone cheered, and Josh almost smiled. And off they went. The wind whipped past him,

and fast. He joked with his friends through the window. It suddenly felt like any other carefree Friday afternoon. After parading around town for a while, they pulled into the gas station for snacks. Josh waited outside in the truck bed. He was thinking that he would probably go back to class on Monday when a voice called to him. Josh, is that you? Josh knew the voice and it filled him with nervous electricity. I texted you a few times. Are you ghosting me, or did you write down your number wrong? The boy's playful forwardness hit Josh with some kind of feeling.

I, um, I don't know. I'm bad at checking my texts. Josh mumbled in a non-playful, unstraithful, unsstraithful way that no one could ever find attractive. The boy, named... Monty, nodded, still smiling. Gotcha. So, ghosting then. Josh swallowed that his throat would have been dry, except that it was made of pure water.

Nice waterfall, Monty said, jumping up on the tailgate and letting Josh's mist cool him off. Uh, thanks, said Josh, wishing the sun would evaporate him immediately. I've been wondering what you would look like as a breadcrum, said Monty. said Monty. The word breadcrumb sounded sexy the way Monty said it. Like maybe from a blueberry scone or something like that, he elaborated. Josh surged down violently at the ground and said, Monty nodded a little sadly and jumped off the tailgate, getting the message.

Sure, maybe next time, I'll see you around, he said. and then he was gone. Josh's friends came out of the gas station and they had bought him an ice cream bar, the kind with a hard chocolate shell covering vanilla ice cream, with a candy tarantula in the middle. Josh's favorite. Josh ate it, but tasted nothing.

Josh did not go back to class on Monday. He said goodbye to his mother and walked to campus and then walked past it, and then just kept. He didn't have a plan, but after he'd gone into the desert ways, he circled back to his oasis idea. Though it started as a back-alley blue slurpy dream,

it now presented itself as an actual life plan. He wasn't going to graduate college, or get a driver's license, or be socially functional ever again. He might as well create an abundance of life in an otherwise barren wasteland. Josh felt self-sacrificing and heroic upon arriving at this decision and marched around all day looking for the perfect place to set up shop, i.e. his new life henceforth forever. He found an especially desolate location and settled in. But standing there for hours while nothing happened was tedious work. Josh decided to do something productive while he waited, like, maybe compose a song or write a novel.

He hummed for a while but discovered he wasn't talented at songwriting or humming. So he tried to write a novel, an espionage thriller about the college basketball team, but he found he didn't know enough about basketball or spies or how to properly craft suspense fiction. He thought maybe he should try writing something more personal, like a story about what had happened in this past. week. Maybe he could even write it in third person. He could pretend to be some other narrator altogether, some random, omniscient God voice totally removed from his problematic body and try to look at things through its eyes. Maybe doing this would help him get a new perspective, be useful somehow,

but it was worth a try. Josh went to work on this project while the rest of him spilled and whooshed and flooded across the sun-baked earth. He wrote until he couldn't feel his body anymore. For a long time, he was only aware of his words and thoughts. His self-consciousness was finally not unconscious. At the end of his story, Josh did feel better, though nothing had changed physically. He still didn't know if he would ever regain control over his shape-shifting ability.

He still had all the same problems he did before. But they didn't seem quite as insurmountable as they had. That was pretty cool. Plus, he'd met himself laugh by using words like henceforth and insurmountable. He thought if he could get his story read over the air at the local radio station, maybe other people would hear it and understand his situation better too. Like, maybe his family would hear it and know that he was doing okay, and that he would probably come home soon,

because there were no animals drinking from his oasis, and he was really just creating a whole lot of mud out here. And maybe his English professor would hear it, and let him use it as credit for his missing essay. And maybe even the boy would hear it. Maybe if the boy was still interested, they could go to a movie sometime. If not, Josh would totally understand, because Josh acted like kind of a jerk the last time they saw each other. But Josh does get free lifetime passes at the theater now.

And it would be ashamed to waste them on just sitting alone at the dark, signed. Josh Creighton. Okay, Josh. Happy to help. Please tell Diane, I said hi. Stay tuned, listeners. No one knows what the future holds. Sometimes all you can do, stay tuned. Nightvale. Welcome to Nightvale as a production of Nightvale Presents. This episode was written by Bree Williams with Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Craneer and produced by Dysperition. The voice of Nightvale is Cecil Baldwin. Original music by Dysperition. All of it can be found at disperition. info or at disparation.com. This episode's weather was always right by Anne Reburn. Find out more at YouTube.com slash Anne Reburn.

That's A-N-N-N-E-R-E-B-U-R-N. Comments, questions, email us at info at welcome to nightvale.com. Or follow us on Twitter at Nightvale Radio. Or try to explain policy on a stage with 10 other people and everyone is shouting at once. Check out Welcome to Nightville.com for more information on our upcoming live tours this September and November. See them. Today's proverb. All is not lost. Some of it is intentionally hidden. Hey, it's Jeffrey Kraner speaking to you from spring of 2026 and did you know we are on tour in Europe? Welcome to Nightville will be live on stage in Edinburgh on May 27th, Manchester on May 28th, London on May 29th,

Amsterdam on May 30th. This brand new live show is called Murder Night in Blood Forest, starring Cecil Baldwin, Symphony Sanders, me, and live original music by disparition. These tours are so much fun, and they're for the diehard fan and the Nightvale new kid alike. So bring your family, your partner, your co-workers, your cat, whatever. They don't got to know what Nightville is to like the show.

Tickets to these shows are on sale now at welcome to nightvail.com slash live. Don't let time slip away. Get your tickets. Don't miss us when we're in your town because otherwise, will all be sad. Get your tickets to our Europe Live tour right now at welcome to nightvail.com slash live and hey, thanks.