Welcome to Night Vale - Dreamboy, Episode One: Goodnight, Esmerelda

Episode Date: October 23, 2018

A brand new fiction podcast from Night Vale Presents: Dreamboy. Dane, a spun-out musician spending the winter in Cleveland, Ohio, has two main goals: keeping his job at the Pepper Heights Zoo and trying not to waste all his time on Grindr. What he doesn’t expect is to get swept into a story about dreams, about forevers, about flickering lights, about unexplained deaths, about relentless change, and about the parts of ourselves that we wish other people knew to look for. Oh, and also a murderous zebra. To keep listening to Dreamboy, find it on Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen to podcasts. Dreamboy is co-created by Dane Terry and Ellie Heyman. Starring Dane Terry, featuring Cecil Baldwin, Avery Draut, Gianna Massi and Morgan Meadows. For more information and full credits, go to dreamboypodcast.com. You can also find us on Twitter (@DreamboyPodcast ) and Instagram (dreamboypodcast). 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 Nightvillepresents.com or just wherever you get your podcast. And hey, thanks. It's something else here now.

Something new. From exclusively on Paramount Plus, it's the series Stephen King calls Scarious Hell. Everything here is impossible, but it's also real. Sci-fi vision calls it the best show streaming right now. We're running out of time and we still don't know the rules. Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch. Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus.

Hey there, we have a brand new fiction podcast premiering today, and it's going to be your new favorite podcast. It's called Dreamboy, all one word. And it's about Dane, a spun out musician who's spending the winter Cleveland, Ohio. While there, he gets swept into a story about dreams, creepy girl scouts, and a murderous zebra named Zoe, the Guardian called Dreamboy an instant Nightville classic that's full of mystery and rich characters. As I just said, your new favorite podcast. After this episode, make sure you subscribe to the show at Dreamboypodpodcast.com or whatever podcast app you're using right now.

Just a quick warning, this show does feature adult language. planet earth Cleveland Ohio 12 year old Esmeralda looks out the window of her father's single-engine airplane All of Cleveland is rolling on The trees look just like broccoli, she thinks

And the lake looks like one of her mom's silver plates And it's getting bigger in her eyes And she smiles Now little Esmeralda doesn't know this probably, but a hundred years ago or so her great-great-grandfather John Stonefall, the oil tycoon, bought all the land currently rolling underneath her for a suspiciously small sum. But rather than build on the land like everyone expected, he instead had it all dug up, leaving mounds of dirt everywhere, much to the chagrin of the locals. Petitions were signed, ladies' groups had lunches. Finally, as a compromise, Stonefall, filled most of the holes, built a summer home on a small piece of the land, and donated the rest to the city of Cleveland for parks. The Stonefalls ended up liking it in Cleveland.

Despite the controversy, they were happy there, and they bred like rabbits, becoming more and more cousins with cleaner and cleaner money. And that money eventually thinned and settled, became locked up in foundations, orchestras, zoos. Many of these cousins left Cleveland, but a few stayed. Their lives buoyed by the steady pumping of old trusts, and was one of these cousins a guy named Roger Paring, a man made foggy from a life of never having had to know that he had never really had, who took his little daughter Esmeralda Paring for a ride in their single-engine airplane. Now later on that night, they will show their flight path on the news,

a single red line that ends abruptly in the same. solid blue section at the top of the map graphic. Apparently their engine began to malfunction as they were right over Pepper Heights, and people on the news later will say they could hear it. A sound like a saw in the sky. But while that plane was still in the air above Pepper Heights, I didn't hear it. I was far below, sleeping late in an old bed in my friend's guest room. Huge white clouds were racing through the sky.

the sky, making the light in my bedroom change from bright to dim to bright to dim. But I didn't notice that either. I was deep in a dark dream. Now my dreams are pretty fucked up usually. Like me and my mom are astronauts and she's floating away and I can't do anything about it. Or like the train car I'm on is full of a thousand big fat, slow black flies landing on everybody's face and lips and they don't know. is they're just reading their Kindles, that sort of thing. And I don't dream about sex that often,

but when I do, it's always something really awful. Like, I'm at the deli, and the guy behind the counter is making me fuck my cousin Brian in front of a line of old ladies waiting for their hands. And I can't get hard, and everybody's waiting. Anyway, ever since I got to Cleveland, I've been having this strange recurring dream, and it always starts the same.

I'm in the water, hanging suspended, and it's deep water. and it's dark I can't see anything. The water is the same temperature as my body. It feels pleasant. My hair is just gently swaying. And then I feel a little bit of cold on my legs. And at first I think it feels sort of nice.

And then a little bit more cold. Slowly I realize that something huge is moving underneath me. I start to freak out and I start to try to get away. But I can't get anywhere. get anywhere. The water isn't moving and I feel the coldness coming up more and more coldness. Like the thing is getting closer and closer so I start to thrash and I open my mouth the screen but the icy water rushes in. It hits the back of my throat and it zooms down into my stomach. I feel it fill me up. And then it zigzags its way through my intestines like a cold knife.

And just before it gets to the back of my asshole, I wake up. Throw off the covers and I look down and my dick is rock hard. Like, so hard that it's It's actually like bobbing up and... Oh fuck, I am late for work! I jump out of bed, I throw in my faded red Zen Art Corporation t-shirt, and I tuck my boner into my shorts as best I can. I run downstairs, and I grab a Pop-Tart, and I dump a glass of water on the counter somewhere near the plants,

and then boom, I'm out the door. I usually walk through the neighborhood, Woodshire to York, to Willowbrook, to Cedar Ridge, and then I cut through the woods, but now I have to run right down the Main Street area of Pepper Heights, Rivington Road, because I'm running late. I get to the four-way stop, and people in Ohio are way too polite for four-way stop, so everybody just sort of sits there and goes, no you go first, no you go for, no you, please,

I just run diagonally right across the just screening. Now the thing about Rivington Road is it's a busy little street. It's all these different kinds of food, Indian, Ethiopian, a ramen place, a sushi place, a Chinese food place, a toy shop, an independent bookshop, records, secondhand clothes, Peruvian imports, a head shop, a couple bars and even a gay bar, all in like a few blocks, and it's always crowded. And there's always so many different kinds of things. many different kinds of people.

And outside of New York, I'd never really seen anything like Pepper Heights. It was such a mix of people, people from every country and every income bracket, all living in the same neighborhood. It felt like some sort of lefty public TV fantasy. All these different kinds of lovely humans right here on Ramington, but not a single fucking one of them knows how to walk at the right speed. Move! I turned the corner right by the mirror store and boom!

I see a truck. I almost run into it. Some sort of utilities truck. It's like parked half on the grass and half in the street. And I hear cussing coming from somewhere close. Cocksucker motherfucker, son of a bitch! And it sounds like it's coming from above me, so I look up. And there's a sort of crane coming up from the utilities truck to a bucket,

and there's a man in the bucket filling with the light pole. But I can't really see him because he's silhouetted by the sun, but he's just cussing up a storm. I've never heard somebody cussed so blatantly and out in the open, and I mean, this is a neighborhood. but there's like old ladies and like little kids. Little fuckers! Hey!

A little girl comes out of nowhere. She almost runs me over on her bike. Jesus. Just a few more blocks. And I don't have to run anymore. I think I can just walk briskly. I don't want to be a complete sweaty mess when I get there. And I'm only 13 minutes late.

That's not so bad. That's close to 10 minutes. It's almost 10 minutes late. I get to the side entrance. This big metal building and above the door, There's a sign that says Zenark Corporation, Shuttle Bay 5. I stop for a minute. I take a breath.

And then I open the big metal door. The cold air instantly hits me. The security guard gets up from his chair and blocks the hallway. He crosses his arms and stands in front of me. His eyes narrow as he demands to see my ID badge. Really, I've worked here for three weeks. And I'm late. After a ridiculous amount of looking at me up and down,

looking at my badge, then looking back. at me and then looking at my badge kit. He lets me pass. Four more heavy metal doors and finally, I'm in the shuttle bay. Mission log 10182135. Project objective. To survey the 69 known moons of Jupiter for possible helium-2 deposits. You are to report any signs of helium-2 directly to your superiors at CENARC Corporation upon debriefing. All 69 target moons are classified. as lifeless, but nonetheless, you are advised to keep your scanners on. Be safe and happy hunting, miners. Okay, hold on for a second. I know what you're thinking.

Cleveland? Why Cleveland? Why did I go to Cleveland? Well, I went to Cleveland because I was tired. Tired in like a cosmic sense, in like a big sense, not just like day-to-day. tired, not like I need a nap tired, but like I need a six-month soul nap tired. My friend Emily was going to be gone for six weeks, so she said, come stay in my house, water my plants, and you can be alone. And I thought, alone. Alone time. That sounds great. It's what a gift to somebody who's been living in New York, especially a musician. So I thought, I'll write an album. And so I went. I took my keyboard, I set it up in her living room,

I turned it on, I sat on the bench, and grindered. And ate my way through an Amazon shipping error of Doritos, but every once in a while my free hand would reach out and blindly finger a random chord. Grindr, for some people, I think is fun. Like they can just pop into it and then pop right back out of it whenever they're done. But for me, I've never been able to stop having fun, but not in like a, not in like I'm always having fun kind of a, way but in like a like there's so much fun that it hurts kind of a way and it just eats all my time

obsessively but after three days I still hadn't gotten laid and all my white keys were orange so I delete a grinder again and started looking for a job but after literally walking into a mirror while dropping off my application at the American apparel and being given what I thought was a rather gauche but nonetheless classic run around by the assistant assistant manager at the Chipotle, I was running out of options within walking distance. But I finally scored a late-season job working at this tiny little neighborhood amusement park. It's called the Pepper Heights Zoo. And this place had been a risk-free tax haven since before plastic was invented.

It was like a nursing home for old oil money. And the zoo part was a motley collection of creatures gotten cheap for various reasons. But the most popular attraction by far, the animal on all the lunchbox is the star, was an elderly zebra named Zoe. Now, I don't really have any experience with animals myself, so they gave me a job as a ride attendant on one of the few rides, this large indoor roller coaster called Jupiter's lifeless moons. It was right next to Zoe's exhibit.

Everyone just referred to it as the moons. It was a pretty tame ride, actually, with a right or minimum height of only 48 inches, 44 if you had an adult. The whole idea was that it was a space shuttle that took space prospectors out to the moons of Jupiter to look for helium-2 deposits. My job as an employee of the fake space prospecting company, the Zenark Corporation,

was to unload the kids, instruct them to report any helium-2 deposits during their debriefing in the next room. I had to use my most official sounding voice. And the park did a pretty good job making it all seem spacey and fun. There were flashing lights and space props. And in line, you heard a robot voice saying the mission objective on loop. There was even like space adventure. music playing from hidden speakers during the ride itself. That was a cool thing about the Pepper Heitzu.

They piped in music all over the park like specifically made for the park. A lot of it was recorded years ago by these three ladies. They were sisters. The Srderbird-the-something sisters. I don't know, but you can buy their CD in the gift shop. But they also recorded a theme song for Zoe the Z. And since the most amazing zebra, Zoe, Zoe, she's our favorite friend. And since the ride shared its huge metal building with part of Zoe's exhibit,

I did have to listen to that on loop for my entire shift. Other than that, it was a pretty easy gig, though. I just had to stand behind my podium and say my one line into this rank microphone that Jesus smelled like a hundred summers' worth of spit. Attention, all miners aboard Shuttle 5. Please report your helium two findings in the debriefing room. The lap bars clank open and the kids scramble out. They all run into the next room, the debriefing room.

But one girl lags behind. She stands there beside the track. I realize slowly that I recognize her. She has ridden the ride several times this week. And she's dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl or, I don't know, what I think they dress like. The lap bars slam down automatically on the coaster behind her, but she doesn't jump. The empty card disappeared. into the dark tunnel to pick up another batch of kids in the next room, leaving us alone.

Are you okay? I'm perfectly fine. You, um, you need to report to debriefing. Please. I'm nearly 60 inches tall. I know it's all pretend. Okay, well, you still have to leave before the shuttle comes back, though, okay? I know. I just thought I'd wait till they clear out a little...

The other kids. She nodded towards the debriefing room. briefing room, but she wasn't really looking at it. She wasn't looking at me either. And she spoke like a small adult from the 1960s in that creepy way that kids who were raised by their grandparents sound. Her eyes settle on a far door. I instinctively step out from behind my podium. Then another door opens and a man enters. He walks quickly towards me. His nice suit makes him look completely out of place, but he stops when he notices the little girl. Hello there.

He winks at me as he walks over to her and bends down to her eye level. So, tell me, do you have any helium deposits to report? She says nothing. She just glares at him. It's the kind of glare that stays anchored on his face as she walks around him and disappears into the debriefing room behind him. Oh, that's a great age. This man is Eli Critch, the director of the Pepper Heights Sioux.

Hello, Duane. It's, um, Dane, uh, Dane, actually. Oh, yes, of course, I'm sorry, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane, Dane. How are you liking it over here at the Moons? Um, it's fine. Somewhere else in the building, the old roller coaster car makes a turn, and the whole building responds with a soft metallic groan. Well, I just wanted to give you an updated set of keys. I changed the locks last night.

I can't be too careful. What would the current rigamarole situation? He sets a key ring onto the podium. Two shiny new keys on it. That's the broom closet. That's the front of the ride. And that should do you. Then he smiles.

And there's an awkward moment where he's just smiling at me. And then the smile turns off like a neon sign and he walks away. But he stops short in the middle of the shuttle bay and turns back around. That green shuttle approaching light flashing on his nice suit. You do know that door leads to Zoe's nighttime enclosure. Yes? He points at the far door. I nod slowly.

Now, I've always loved the grocery store at night. Like a 24-hour grocery store is like my church. And it's mostly because there are no people, yeah, sure, but also because everything's been restocked and straightened and it's perfectly neat. There's just row upon row of brightly colored boxes with little cartoon faces all peeking out the same way. And I think it's because everything's so neat

and there are no people moving around and there's this bouncy music playing that if you look for it, you can really glimpse the shape of a terrible screaming skull behind the gorgeous face that is the grocery store. And it hits you. You're standing in a warehouse of death. A plant and animal morgue.

Tonight, I want a pie. But the bakery section of the store is dark. Like the lights were out in just that corner. And also the pie case, I know exactly where it's at. I can see it from here, but it has a shorted light tonight. And it's blinking randomly, giving the whole bake. A bakery section is sort of bad part of town feel. Maybe a bad boy, maybe not a bad boy.

It depends on who you ask, but I'm certainly not afraid of the dark. And, I mean, sort of a rebel. I even have the cart with a squeaky wheel. So I like squeak right over to that bakery section. Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky, squeaky, squeaky, squeaky. And as soon as I crossed the threshold, I see him sitting in shadow. Three little girls, Girl Scouts maybe, behind a table. About 12 years old, give or take, they had doll eyes over thin smiles.

Good morning. Oh, good morning. But it's just after midnight. Technically morning. Oh, that's pretty by the book. There are enough lies. They're all wearing matching uniforms, and they all have different patches. And I recognized the one girl from the ride earlier.

It's the girl that lagged behind, and she recognized. is me. And the other two are twins, but with different hair. Are you selling something? No. But if you'd like to donate, we'd be most appreciative. Don't... Oh. Oh, so you don't have like, you don't have cookies or, uh, or anything. I just thought, you know, bakery section, um, Girl Scouts that maybe you had... We are not affiliated with the Girl Scouts of America. I reached into my pocket and I thought I'll just give them a dollar and be on...

Minimum donation is $3 for the pamphlet. But that's called selling something. What's the pamphlet about? They hold up a small paper book. The title elegantly printed in dark blue ink on cream-colored card stock. It reads, Friends till the End, Advocating for Animals. What are you raising money for anyway? Zoe.

Zoe. The zebra We're raising money to save her Apparently The zoo is too broke To do anything about it Even though they seem to have Plenty of money for that stupid new exhibit

Forgotten sea It's stupid! How do you forget a whole sea? You work there, don't you? Yeah, part-time Walking home, I couldn't stop thinking of how that little girl said the word zebra Zebra. Zebra?

Her weird little voice and her weird little cold blue eyes, like two little hard candies that someone spat on the sidewalk. Now I just want to get home. It feels weird being out in the open, and this pie is hurting my arm. Oh, thank God. I walk up Emily's steps. I open this green door, but it hits something. I bend down to pick it up. It's a small cardboard box.

It feels warm in my hand. There's a name written on top. of the box and beautiful cursive. Luke Prescott. I don't know anybody named Luke. I look around. Nobody's out. All the windows and all the houses are dark.

Then the smell hits me. Cinnamon and cardamom. I look down. I open the box. And more of that smell billows up. It's a small spice cake. It smells like a thousand Christmases. I instantly feel wrong for looking

So I close the box back up again I go inside And put the cake in the fridge I think I'll just text Emily tomorrow And be like, do you know anybody named Luke? I get a fork and I sit down with the pie box In front of the TV I open it

And I wait for a pillow of delicious smell To hit me But it doesn't The pie seems to have no smell Compared to the cake I take a bite anyway And turn on the news Some millionaire and his daughter

crashed their plane into the lake. Search and rescue operations are underway. People on the news are pointing to the sky and talking at the camera. They show a picture that the father posted to social media right before the flight. It's the two of them standing next to the plane. Her smiling really big.

It was captioned Esmeralda's first plane ride. I take a bite of pie and stare at Esmeralda's face. Then I stopped chewing. I think of the bottom of the lake. I think of that plane. Hold it up like a sleeping bird down there. And I think of that man slumped over in the crushed cockpit. His daughter trapped in the back seat behind him.

And then suddenly I feel like I'm in that back seat. Unable to move. Looking at the back of my dad's head, his blood like ribbons of red silk in the water. I just have this feeling in my gut. I just know they're never going to find this plane.

They will never find as we're all to paring. She'll be down there alone, forever. The bite of pie is mush in my mouth. I swallow it and turn the TV off. And then there's only my reflection and the dark glass looking back at me.

Dreamboy is co-created by Dane Terry and Ellie Heyman, developed and directed by Ellie Heyman, written, composed, and performed by Dane Terry, featuring Cecil Baldwin, Avery Drought, Gianna Masey, and Morgan Meadows, sound designed, engineered, mixed and mastered by Chris Wine Garden at Banana Peel Studio, creative producing and assistant direction by Ashlyn Hatch, editing by Alexander Charles Adams, marketing by Adam Cecil. A very special thanks to Christy Gressman and Nightbale Presents. And remember, if you want to hear more of Dreamboy, subscribe. at Dreamboypodpodcast.com or in your podcast app. Hey, Jeffrey Kraner here to tell you about another show from me and my Nightvale

co-creator Joseph Fink. It's called Unlicensed, and it's an L.A. noir-style mystery set in the outskirts of present-day Los Angeles. Unlicensed follows two unlicensed private investigators who small jobs looking into insurance claims and missing property are only the tip of a conspiracy ice There are already two seasons of Unlicensed for you to listen to now, with Season 3 dropping on May 15th. Unlicensed is available exclusively through Audible, free if you already have that subscription. And if you don't, Audible has a trial membership, and if I know you, and I do, you can binge all that mystery goodness in a short window.

And if you like it, if you liked Unlicensed, please, please rate and review each season. Our ability to keep making this show is predicated on audience engagement. So go check out unlicensed, available now only at audible.com.