Part 36 "The Faith"

PART 36: THE FAITH

Transcripts Made By K.M., jack

CWs: Religious abuse, child abuse, bullying, starvation, being trapped, murder, sounds of gore, references to child death, memory loss, alcoholism

 

(BEGIN Part 36.)

 

(A busy street: passing cars and pedestrian conversation.  Unintelligible whispers rise in the background, before abruptly cutting off.)

 

JOHN (serenely): Evening is coming on. (A hopeful piano tune begins.) People are still moving about the street, but with purpose, a goal in mind. Some heading home, eager for dinner, maybe… to see their families. All busy with their lives. (Arthur makes a noise of agreement.) Lives that all move forward, unaware of the things we know… and the things Detective Noel is now aware of as well. 

 

ARTHUR: I was wondering when you’d bring that up. 

 

JOHN: You told him everything, Arthur. Far too much –

 

ARTHUR (cutting him off): I did, yes. 

 

JOHN: Why?

 

ARTHUR: Look, I need someone, John. Daniel was right, I’ve spent too long relying on… (He sighs.)

 

JOHN: Me.

 

ARTHUR: Yes… only you. (The music turns solemn.) Noel is… I don’t know. But he seems trustworthy.

 

JOHN: You better hope so. 

 

ARTHUR: He also seems somewhat familiar, in a way, doesn’t he? Something about his tone of voice, he, uh –

 

JOHN (huffs impatiently): Where is he? We’ve been waiting forever!

 

ARTHUR (exasperated): Oscar is coming, relax.

 

JOHN: Let’s just head to Daniel’s and get this ring.

 

ARTHUR: Yes. The ring will lead us to the Freemasons, a powerful and influential group of men. Many of whom will most definitely also be the kind seeking power within the Order of the Fallen Star. That’s our way forward. (A door closes and footsteps approach.) We know that.

 

JOHN: Oscar is coming back out of the store –

 

OSCAR: Sorry about that, just wasn’t sure if I’d make it out before they close. 

 

ARTHUR: No-no-no, no worries at all. Thank you so much for heading to Daniel’s with me, a-and for grabbing some… items for him. 

 

OSCAR: Of course. 

 

JOHN: He’s carrying a small bag of what I suppose are groceries, he’s leading the way back to Daniel's house, as the sun sets. 

 

(They walk.)

 

OSCAR: So, that was quite the ordeal. (Emphatically.) Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, a-about that, uh –

 

(The footsteps stop.)

 

OSCAR: Look, seeing what transpired… I can imagine why you felt using a different name would help.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, and about the, um… deaths, I, uh –

 

OSCAR: Look, I’d be lying if I said I shared Daniel’s level of understanding. (They walk again.) But… I have my fair share of regrets, as well. I mean, if you’d like to talk about –

 

ARTHUR (cutting him off): No, no. Not particularly.

 

OSCAR: Aye.

 

ARTHUR: Just – Just know that, well, they were people… who, um… Look, I’m not a bad person.

 

OSCAR: Of that I believe. I saw what you did for Daniel – for me. Everyone did. It was quite… heroic. (A slow rendition of the theme begins.)

 

ARTHUR: Heroic? (He smiles.) I don’t know if anyone has ever called me that. 

 

JOHN: He’s smiling, giving a nod of approval. 

 

ARTHUR: Y-You said you had information for me, or at least I assume that’s why you called Daniel’s. 

 

OSCAR: Yes, yes, after you left, I had a thought… That Marie lives above the grocer.

 

ARTHUR: Right, right, ah, J Scherzer. 

 

OSCAR: Yes! Because it was a business, they’re a little more open to give me some information. I… gave them a ring and…

 

ARTHUR: Oh!

 

OSCAR: Turns out that they lease the building from the estate. A man by the name of Edward William Allan.

 

ARTHUR: From the estate? So he’s –

 

OSCAR: Not only is he no longer around, but he never married. 

 

JOHN: Interesting. 

 

ARTHUR: Brilliant. 

 

OSCAR: Well, I ask where they send their money to, uh, leasing it and all. They said that they send their money addressed to a lawyer named David Rose, who handles the estate. I got his number from the phone book. If anyone knows anything about this Edward William Allan, it’d be him. 

 

JOHN (admiringly): Clever!

 

ARTHUR: That’s brilliant, Oscar! Did you call?

 

OSCAR: No! I wanted to check with you, obviously first, you being the private investigator and all. 

 

ARTHUR: Thank you, Oscar. When we get to Daniel’s… I’ll-I’ll give them a ring and see.

 

OSCAR: Lovely. 

 

(A dog barks. They walk in silence.)

 

ARTHUR (making conversation): So! You, uh… you said you have your fair share of regrets. 

 

(The music picks up, more ominously.)

 

OSCAR: Aye. 

 

ARTHUR (hesitantly): What kind of regrets do you… have?

 

OSCAR (sighing): To be clear… I normally don’t bare my soul to those who really ask about my past. But I think it's fair to say that between the two of us… you’ve revealed more about yourself in the last hour than most people would in a lifetime, so.

 

JOHN: Snow is starting to fall, Arthur, in big thick flakes. Oscar has walked to a bench nearby. (Oscar grunts and the bench creaks.) He’s sitting down.

 

OSCAR: I never knew my parents… was given away as a wee lad. (Arthur walks to the bench and sits.) The family I had was the family I made. My father were the priests, the women are mums, my brothers, sisters, the others left behind… but there was a boy that I felt especially responsible for. If I had a brother, I would have wished it he. (A beat, followed by a hopeful piano note.) 

 

His name was Alexander. He was the smallest of us, the boys, but held a spirit too strong for his frame. It overflowed, his exuberance for life, for laughter, was contagious. (Hopeful, slow music continues. Wistfully.) I found such comfort in him. (A scoff.) But, others did not. There was a priest there, Father McKenna, he despised Alexander. Whether it was because he couldn’t be affected by the words he preached, or that he wouldn’t fall in line the way the other boys did… 

 

(Oscar scoffs.)

 

OSCAR (Continuing.): Perhaps he envied his youth and naivete. (At a distance, an animal screams, almost human-like.) I don’t know. But what I do know is that he tortured that young boy. He would spur the lads to bully him. (Bitterly.) Encourage them to beat on him during the day and night. (A heavy intake of breath.) He’d have little games that he’d force the boys to play, and reward them when they picked Alexander last, or had them in the mix as a potential for pain and bruises. (Another sigh.) He would make his knuckles bleed when he breathed too loud, it was horrible. But what could we do? These were our guardians, our parents. 

 

We were taught not to stand up to them… so it continued. Every day Father McKenna would find reasons to torment Alexander. Every night I would lay across from him, listening to him whimper as he fell asleep. I tried to help, spoke to the other priests who had empty promises, and investigate. I tried to get Alexander out of trouble here and there, but Father McKenna would find ways, invent problems. 

 

(Angrily.) He was merciless… and then one day, when we woke up, Alexander wasn’t there. They believed that he left. Father McKenna not least of all pressing that narrative. I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it. I looked around everywhere for signs of where he may have gone, but found nothing. No note, no scrap of fabric, no footprints in the rose garden, nothing. I had all but started to believe the lies, when I overheard some of the girls talking about ‘the bell tower ghost.’ A spirit lost to the ravages of time, trapped in the tower. 

 

(The music slows again.)

 

OSCAR: We weren’t meant to fraternize with the girls, but… I was intent on learning more. Apparently the girls had gone up there as a dare. And heard whimpering beyond the wall. When everyone had fallen asleep that night, I climbed the stairs to the bell tower. I found the wall the girls had pointed out… It didn’t take me long to find out how it opened. (The ominous, solemn music picks up.) Behind the wall, curled up, naked, and starved… nearly to death… was the small body of Alexander. 

 

(The animal cries again.)

 

ARTHUR (quietly): Oh.

 

OSCAR: The other priests took him aside and spoke to him before the police arrived. I don’t know what they said to him, or what Alexander told them… but he never elaborated on what happened to him. The official story, if you want to call it that, is that Alexander, so overwhelmed with being bullied, admitted to sneaking off and trying to hide from the other children… and got trapped in the bell tower. It was easy enough to swallow, easy enough to believe that Alexander was to blame. Seemed like everyone bought the story: the child, who just didn’t seem to fit in, making his own mess of things. 

 

(Oscar scoffs.) But I wasn’t watching the police as they took Alexander away to hospital. I didn’t watch Alexander as all of this transpired. I watched McKenna. I studied his face, the corners of his mouth upturned in such a subtle way… it almost appeared as concern. (He drops to a whisper.) But I knew what it really was… pleasure. Pleasure with having gotten away with it. 

 

(Normal volume.) When the boys had fallen asleep, and the orphanage was washed in silent slumber, I rose from my bed. Took a hammer from the work shed. (Like from a memory, tools clink together.) Entered Father McKenna’s quarters. (A door creaks open. The music turns dark.) And used the claw side of it to break every bone in his face. (Multiple meaty thumps. Both a young boy and a man scream.) Chunks of bone and flesh broke off as he screamed bloody murder into the night. Eventually the other priests came and then pulled me off… I was carted away. (The man continues to scream and cry, the noises fading away.) I never saw Alexander again, or Father McKenna.

 

ARTHUR (hesitantly): D-Did… Um… Did Alexander go back to the orphanage, where McKenna was? 

 

OSCAR: I don’t know. (He huffs.) I never got the courage to find out. 

 

(Oscar rises from the bench with a creak and a grunt.)

 

JOHN: He stood up. 

 

OSCAR: So, you see… I have regret. (Arthur rises with a grunt.) Anyway… looks like this is the place. (Hopeful music begins.) 

 

ARTHUR: Right. O-Okay. 

 

OSCAR: I’ll head upstairs, and pack a bag for him. (He starts to walk off.)

 

ARTHUR: W-Wait, Oscar! 

 

OSCAR: Aye?

 

ARTHUR (sincerely): I’m sorry that happened to you, thank you for sharing. But I have to ask… What… part of it do you regret, e-exactly? 

 

OSCAR (intently): The only thing I regret… was leaving McKenna alive. 

 

(A door opens, and Oscar steps inside. Crickets chirp in the evening.)

 

JOHN (in astonishment): Well.

 

ARTHUR: Yeah. I can imagine how that would have felt for him, growing up.

 

JOHN: Yes, aren’t you… also an orphan?

 

ARTHUR: Yes, and my experiences with the people that ran it made me want to get as far away from religion as possible. B-But Oscar… He used it as a reason to s-stay, to help… help people.

 

JOHN: People take different lessons. Equally, you killed your McKenna. 

 

ARTHUR: My what?

 

JOHN: Uncle. Didn’t Oscar’s story make you think of that at all?

 

ARTHUR (unconvinced): Yes, I suppose… But, I mean.

 

JOHN: What?

 

ARTHUR: Well, I was wrong in mine. 

 

JOHN: Wasn’t he as well?

 

ARTHUR (heated): Wrong? Killing someone who would do that to a child, are you kidding? 

 

JOHN: And that makes killing justified.

 

ARTHUR (lashing out): Don’t! You don’t understand! Not about this. 

 

JOHN: You’ve become quite open to the prospect of taking a life. 

 

ARTHUR (a huff): Anyway, look, I don't want to spend too much time inside. Let’s just head in and grab the ring. 

 

JOHN: And call the lawyer, David Rose. Remember, if he knows anything about Edward William Allan we need to find it. 

 

ARTHUR: Right, yes, Daniel has a telephone, we’ll make use of it. Then we’ll get the ring, and go. 

 

JOHN (hesitantly): Should Oscar know about the ring? Our plan for the Freemasons, and finding the Order.

 

ARTHUR (uncertainly): I… don’t know.

 

JOHN: You told Detective Noel. 

 

ARTHUR: I know, a-and I trust Oscar. It’s just… Noel’s line of work is meant to be dangerous. Oscar is already in over his head finding Hattie. I-I-I’m not convinced he needs to worry about this. (He sighs.) I don't want to put him in danger. 

 

JOHN (insistently): We need to find the Order of the Fallen Star. The more people helping, the better. 

 

ARTHUR: I suppose you’re right.

 

JOHN: Of course I am.

 

ARTHUR: Fine. We’ll tell Oscar once we have the ring. B-But we’ll call Mr. Rose first. (He walks.)

 

JOHN: Arthur, the door… it’s off its hinges. 

 

ARTHUR: Right.

 

JOHN: There’s a large hole in it from the shotgun blast.

 

ARTHUR: Damn. (He pushes the door aside and enters the house. A sad piano melody begins.)

 

JOHN: There’s blood everywhere, Arthur. I can see where Daniel fell… a large, dark red stain covers the wooden floorboards where the pool of blood beneath him grew. It’s grisly.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): I, I can imagine. But he’s alright. (He continues to walk.) And we have Oscar to thank for that. 

 

JOHN: Yes.

 

OSCAR (gently): He’s alright, now. Breathe easy.

 

ARTHUR: Yeah. Yes. 

 

OSCAR: I’ll be upstairs, getting a bag together for Daniel.

 

JOHN: How do we contact the lawyer?

 

ARTHUR: B-Before you head upstairs! The number for David Rose? 

 

OSCAR: Oh, of course. (His clothes rustle.) Here.

 

(Oscar walks away, footsteps fading.)

 

ARTHUR: Thank you. The phone.

 

JOHN: The wall to the left, a little further down. (Arthur walks.) Here. 

 

ARTHUR: Thanks. (He picks up the receiver. Static hums.) What’s the number?

 

JOHN: R… O… 1… 2… 7… 3… 6. (Arthur continually turns the rotary-style phone.) Interesting.

 

ARTHUR: Oh, yes. It’s a whole new… world now. 

 

(The phone rings briefly before being picked up.)

 

DAVID ROSE: David Rose.

 

ARTHUR: Ah, hello, ah, Mr. Rose. I’m calling on behalf of J Scherzer Wholesale Grocer. The renter of one of the properties of the estate of Mr. Allan.

 

DAVID ROSE: Yes. How can I help you?

 

ARTHUR: Look, we found some old boxes stashed away under the stairs that belong to Mr. Allan. I’m wondering where we may be able to send them.

 

DAVID ROSE: Boxes?

 

ARTHUR: Yes. Old files, it seems like, ah. Perhaps some blueprints from a build of his.

 

DAVID ROSE: Uh. Yes. Y-You can send them to me.

 

ARTHUR: Uh, some personal effects, as well? Uh, perhaps.

 

DAVID ROSE (taken aback): Oh.

 

ARTHUR: Would they go to you as well?

 

DAVID ROSE: Uh… well, then, maybe you can send them to another address, if you wouldn’t mind.

 

ARTHUR: Not at all, not at all. Uh, family of Allan’s, or…?

 

DAVID ROSE: No, no. His other house.

 

(A mysterious piano melody begins.)

 

JOHN (shocked): Other house!?

 

ARTHUR: Other?

 

DAVID ROSE: Yes, uh. Mr. Allan lived upstate for years. Earned his money as a wealthy co-owner in a lucrative brewing business but moved into the city before he, um. Went missing.

 

JOHN: The body in the walls, Arthur! It may have been Allan.

 

ARTHUR: Oh, of course. Is this… property being rented as well, then?

 

DAVID ROSE (uncomfortably): Uh… no. Not as such.

 

ARTHUR: No?

 

DAVID ROSE: No, it’s… a property I, uhm. I haven’t touched. Not since Mr. Allan’s disappearance.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, understandable. I’m sorry to bother, uh… Let me get those to you, then. What’s the address?

 

DAVID ROSE: 61 Boulder Road, White Plains. 

 

ARTHUR: Thank you. I’ll send it as soon as I can.

 

DAVID ROSE: Thank you.

 

ARTHUR: Take care. (He hangs up the phone.)

 

JOHN (considering): Well.

 

ARTHUR: Hm. White Plains is only a 30 minute drive or so. (He starts to walk.)

 

JOHN: But we know where Allan ended up.

 

ARTHUR (distracted): Yeah. Anyway. (He starts to walk.)

 

JOHN: Where are you…?

 

ARTHUR: Upstairs. For the ring. Remember?

 

JOHN (angrily): Yes, I remember. (Normally.) Oscar is in the room straight ahead through the open door. I see him laying out shirts for Daniel. (Arthur makes a thoughtful noise. A soft piano melody begins.) The study’s to your right, through a set of dark wooden doors that are open.

 

ARTHUR: Alright.

 

JOHN: Here. This study is filled with tall bookshelves that line the walls. A large, ornate desk sits against a window that overlooks the backyard. Dark leather covers all the furniture in here.

 

ARTHUR: Sounds opulent.

 

JOHN: A globe of the world sits in the corner beneath some of the bookshelves, and another comfortable looking chair sits beside a half-finished game of chess. 

 

ARTHUR: Daniel always did have a taste for finer things. Credenza.

 

JOHN (confused): Hm?

 

ARTHUR: Sideboard, a-a table. With drawers. 

 

JOHN: Left. (Arthur walks.) Here. (They roll out a drawer.) There are a number of fine-looking pieces in here. Rings, and… (They start to sort through.)

 

ARTHUR: The Freemasons have a sigil, it’s-it’s a compass with a ruler, o-or a square, and a G on it.

 

JOHN: Yes, I think I see it.

 

ARTHUR: Excellent!

 

JOHN (surprised): Oh.

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN: There’s a photo here.

 

ARTHUR: Oh?

 

JOHN: Of… Faroe. 

 

ARTHUR (softly): Faroe?

 

JOHN: I-I mean, I assume. It’s a young girl. About…

 

ARTHUR: Daniel must have kept her away. Maybe… too painful to have her photo out. (He rummages.) Is this it?

 

JOHN: Yes. (Arthur walks. With a grunt, he sits on the chair.)

 

ARTHUR (wistfully): I wish I could see it. I wish I could look at her eyes again. Look at her smile. (He sighs.) I bet I know the photo, even. 

 

JOHN (kindly): I bet you do. 

 

ARTHUR: Maybe it’s best I can’t.

 

JOHN: You can’t…?

 

ARTHUR: See her, right now. Difficult, you know?

 

JOHN: Of course. (Arthur’s clothing shifts.) You’re keeping the photo?

 

ARTHUR (evenly): Yes. 

 

JOHN: But you can’t see it.

 

ARTHUR: No.

 

JOHN (also evenly): Alright.

 

ARTHUR (moving on): Anyway! The ring. 

 

JOHN: That one!

 

ARTHUR: Perfect. And I… Wait.

 

JOHN: What?

 

(Suspenseful music starts to rise in the background.)

 

ARTHUR: What is – What is this? In my… oh my God. 

 

JOHN: What?

 

ARTHUR (tense): The stone, John! Scratch’s stone, I nearly forgot!

 

JOHN (frustrated): How could you have forgotten?

 

ARTHUR: I-I don’t know! My God… what, what did we do?

 

JOHN: We!? I told you not to make the deal!

 

ARTHUR: If we don’t get this stone to someone before we sleep tonight, what – what do you suppose happens?

 

JOHN: I think you know the answer to that.

 

ARTHUR (in horror): No. John… we can –

 

JOHN (cutting him off): Of course not.

 

ARTHUR: So what do we do?

 

OSCAR (at a distance): Do you think Daniel will need a brush?

 

JOHN: Oscar.

 

ARTHUR (absolutely not): No! No.

 

OSCAR: Alright?

 

ARTHUR: I mean no, John. Look, you just convinced me to tell him about the Order…

 

JOHN: I’m not advocating Oscar, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: Not after all he’s done.

 

JOHN: What do you suggest?

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know!

 

JOHN: Exactly why you shouldn’t have taken the deal!

 

ARTHUR (sharply): Fuck!

 

JOHN: Look! Regardless, you need to start looking for someone to hand that stone off to. Or we end up as Scratch’s next host. Perhaps there are people out there deserving of this curse. Criminals like Larson, or –

 

ARTHUR: Right, right. Or… 

 

JOHN: Or!?

 

ARTHUR: Or we dedicate our efforts to solving the problem. Oscar and I.

 

JOHN: How!?

 

ARTHUR: Our book! The one with the symbol on it, it matched the one in the secret room, remember? The crumbling book, that –

 

JOHN: Yes. 

 

ARTHUR: Look, we need to spend some time reading, figuring out what this creature is, the Scratch –

 

JOHN: Time we don’t have. It’s already evening, Arthur. How long can you stay awake?

 

ARTHUR: As late as I need to to find a way to stop him.

 

JOHN: And if you don’t?

 

ARTHUR: If I don’t…

 

JOHN: If you spend the night looking into Scratch and come up empty-handed? Then what? You haven’t found a suitable host, either, which means…

 

OSCAR: I’m just about ready to head back. Are you done out here?

 

ARTHUR: Y-Yes, a-almost.

 

OSCAR: I’ll wait for you downstairs.

 

ARTHUR (forlornly): Which means if I have no other options… 

 

JOHN: If it’s us or him.

 

ARTHUR: Yes.

 

JOHN: Unless you spend this time finding a host. 

 

ARTHUR: A host is only half a solution. I want to try for the whole thing. (John sighs in annoyance.) Whatever Scratch is… it’s dangerous.

 

JOHN (scathing): Obviously.

 

ARTHUR: So we need to try. We have the tools, we have… a better shot than anyone else in actually stopping him. We can do it.

 

JOHN: Fine. Oscar’s waiting downstairs for us. Are you still planning on telling him about the Order of the Fallen Star?

 

ARTHUR: Yes, yes. He… He deserves to know, still. (Furniture squeaks. A sad piano melody begins to play. Arthur walks.) Where is he?

 

JOHN: In the sitting room where Daniel and you spoke. To the left of the front door. Here.

 

(Glass clatters.) 

 

OSCAR (startled, at a distance): Oh, you’re done already!

 

ARTHUR: Yes! Uh, found it fairly quick. (More glass clattering.)

 

OSCAR: You talk to yourself quite a bit.

 

JOHN: He’s standing before Daniel’s liquor cabinet. 

 

OSCAR (awkwardly): Easier to… uh, remember things that way, or, um…?

 

ARTHUR: Yes, I… suppose so. D-Did you need a…?

 

OSCAR: No. No. Y-You spoke with David Rose, then?

 

ARTHUR: Yes. He mentioned a second property, up north, actually. Also… owned by Allan.

 

(Some footsteps.)

 

OSCAR (closer): Interesting. 

 

ARTHUR: Yes. Yes, I… I think there may be answers there.

 

OSCAR: Right. (The shifting of fabric.) Well, I have Daniel’s things, now. Probably head back to him, and, u-um…

 

ARTHUR: Actually, Oscar, if you have a moment, I… I want to talk to you about something.

 

OSCAR: Sure. Sure.

 

ARTHUR: I-I wanted to, um. H-Have a seat. 

 

OSCAR: Alright.

 

JOHN: Chair is here. (Footsteps.) Right. Here. (They both sit with a grunt.)

 

OSCAR: What’s on your mind?

 

ARTHUR (nervously): So… well, I-I suppose there’s some things I kept from you. M-My name, for example, Arthur Lester, and, uh. Being from Arkham, and… well, I wanted you to know my… purpose for being here. Truly.

 

OSCAR: To see Daniel?

 

ARTHUR: No. No, actually… that was more of a secondary benefit. Or, rather… one that would aid my goal.

 

OSCAR: I’m all ears.

 

ARTHUR: Well. I… came from north of the city, from a town called Addison. 

 

OSCAR: Don’t think I’ve heard of it.

 

ARTHUR: I don’t think many do. But I… w-well, there was a man there named Larson. (A quick paced piano melody begins.) Andrew Larson, he went by. He was a man who abused and enslaved many of the townspeople there. He was a man who also sought out… power. The kinds that Scratch wields, and exists within. I believe. 

 

OSCAR: Alright.

 

ARTHUR: When I escaped from his home, from this town… I came here, knowing that Larson drew his power from an organization that he was a part of. Perhaps even the head of. Called the ‘Order of the Fallen Star’. From what I believe, it’s an organization that would be of interest to many of this city’s powerful elite. 

 

OSCAR: Aye.

 

ARTHUR: Anyways, so, I-I came to Daniel to ask for his Freemasons ring. In order to see about asking some of that organization's members if they know anything about this cult. And that is what it is. A cult. I plan to locate this Order of the Fallen Star and infiltrate and… bring it down. 

 

JOHN: He’s raised an intrigued eyebrow.

 

OSCAR: Interesting. How do you plan on doing that?

 

ARTHUR (earnestly): I… don’t know. I don’t know enough about it yet to be able to have a plan, but. Well, I trust you. And I wanted you to know. 

 

OSCAR: And the Butcher?

 

ARTHUR: Sent by Larson to stop me.

 

OSCAR: So clearly he’s threatened by you.

 

ARTHUR: Precisely.

 

OSCAR: I don’t blame him. You’re a formidable opponent, I gather.

 

ARTHUR: To some. 

 

(Faroe’s Song begins to play.)

 

OSCAR: You’ve taken on quite a lot, if I do say so. 

 

ARTHUR: You’re no slouch.

 

OSCAR: Where do these Freemasons meet up, anyway? 

 

ARTHUR: I… I don’t know. I-I suppose I…

 

OSCAR: Well, I suppose I can ask Daniel when I drop these off to him in a bit. (Fabric shifts.) If you’d like.

 

ARTHUR: Oh. Yes, thank you, Oscar.

 

OSCAR: Well, I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but if you think of something I can do to aid, please let me know.

 

ARTHUR: A-Appreciated, but despite this being my… goal… I promised to help Marie, and you, and we have to deal with one thing at a time, so Scratch, to me, is… a much bigger threat at the present moment.

 

OSCAR: Aye. Well, H-Hattie’s still out there.

 

ARTHUR: Precisely.

 

JOHN: Tell him about the book! The bestiary!

 

ARTHUR: Right.

 

OSCAR: Hm?

 

ARTHUR: O-Oh, no, just talking to myself. (He starts to rummage in his bag.) Right, I-I have a book, actually. Uh. So when… we… yeah. When I was in Marie’s house, I noticed that there was a… (He grunts in exertion, hands it over.) Here. 

 

OSCAR: A what?

 

ARTHUR: Um –

 

JOHN: There’s no use in keeping anything from him, now. If this doesn’t work… the stone is his and he’ll become Scratch anyway.

 

ARTHUR: A secret passage. In Hattie’s room. (A sad piano melody begins to play. The sound of papers turning.) A-A hidden room, behind the wall. A-And in it, I found… some skeletal remains and a number of objects implying… that there was some sort of ritual done. Perhaps a summoning. You with me so far?

 

OSCAR: So far.

 

ARTHUR: The symbol matches one on that book. Uhm, a book that seems to have a great number of – of creatures from all different worlds.

 

JOHN: Tell him that the body was Edward William Allan’s! That it’s two hundred years old!

 

ARTHUR: Yes, and I-I… think the body may be Edward William Allan’s. It looked… two hundred years old?

 

OSCAR (surprised): Two hundred?

 

ARTHUR: Yes?

 

OSCAR: Well, I’m not sure that’s possible.

 

JOHN: Why?

 

ARTHUR: No?

 

OSCAR: No, the house was only built about thirty years ago.

 

ARTHUR: Ah. When you did the research on the, uh, building. 

 

OSCAR: Aye.

 

JOHN: But… Scratch said he was two hundred years old. Trapped in those walls!

 

ARTHUR: Huh. When Scratch spoke to me… he said that he had been trapped in those walls for two hundred years, so how could that be?

 

OSCAR: I’m not sure what to tell you, but. This book is fascinating. 

 

JOHN: Was Scratch lying? Why would he lie about that?

 

OSCAR: Have you used it previously?

 

ARTHUR (distracted): Hm? Uh, yes. Once, another creature –

 

OSCAR (surprised): Another creature? Lord.

 

JOHN: Perhaps Scratch was trying to deceive us!

 

ARTHUR: I didn’t get the impression it was a lie.

 

OSCAR: What was?

 

JOHN: What do you mean?

 

ARTHUR: What… if it wasn’t… as long as Scratch is saying, but he’s not aware?

 

OSCAR: Meaning?

 

ARTHUR: Scratch is someone who visits while sleeping. Inhabits dreams and such. 

 

OSCAR: Go on.

 

ARTHUR: What if time moves differently for him? 

 

JOHN: How so?

 

ARTHUR: Like… when I dream. It’s a moment. It’s a blink, and then I’m awake, as if, you know, time was nothing.

 

OSCAR: Right.

 

ARTHUR: But for others… for creatures that may inhabit places beyond the waking world, is it… is it possible that time… stretches?

 

OSCAR: Dilation.

 

ARTHUR (thinking it through): Sure! When I sleep, it’s – it’s a moment, but for others… he’s a creature of the dreaming world, after all.

 

OSCAR: It would make sense as to why he’s so desperate for freedom. If every day felt like ten, I’d be batty as well.

 

ARTHUR: Right. Right.

 

OSCAR: Well. (He sighs.) It looks like there’s a great deal of information on each of these… creatures. If time dilation is one that could help us narrow things down, I’d… look for it.

 

JOHN: We can look through the book, Arthur. We don’t need Oscar for that.

 

ARTHUR: Anything to help narrow it down. The lines of dust, the violet eyes, the glass distorting.

 

OSCAR: Right, right.

 

JOHN: Arthur, I can –

 

ARTHUR: Would you mind, terribly? Dedicating some time to poring through that book.

 

JOHN (insistent): Arthur, I can do that.

 

OSCAR: Not at all.

 

JOHN (dumbfounded): Why?

 

ARTHUR: Regardless, the house up north. It’s at Boulder Road and it may hold the other half of these answers. If it is Allan in the wall… knowing what he summoned may only get us so far. We need to know what he used, when, even.

 

OSCAR: Right.

 

ARTHUR: Would you mind coming along?

 

OSCAR: Uh… no, no. I just need to… I just want to… drop these things off at Daniel’s, at the hospital, first, if that’s okay.

 

ARTHUR: Right, yes, of course.

 

OSCAR: And I can ask about the Freemasons, too. Where they meet.

 

ARTHUR: Brilliant. Well, I can wait for you, if you like. We can head up together, you can read from that book in the car. We can theorize.

 

JOHN (demanding): Why?

 

OSCAR: If you prefer to go alone first….I-I can take a taxi up later. It seems like time is of the essence, no?

 

ARTHUR: Right, right.

 

OSCAR: Whatever makes the most sense, I’ll make it work. 

 

(A slow, mysterious piano tune begins to play.)

 

ARTHUR: Time… is of the essence, but it’s only a five minute walk to the hospital and I’m betting you can do that in two. And we’re better working together.

 

OSCAR: Alright.

 

JOHN (dangerously): Are we?

 

OSCAR: Well, I’ll head out, then. You can pick me up there.

 

ARTHUR: Yes. O-Oh, wait! How?

 

OSCAR: Y-Yes, I’m sorry. I’m… far from able to afford a vehicle, I…

 

ARTHUR: No, of course! I’m sorry, I-I-I didn’t even think.

 

OSCAR: Mrs. Pilon has one. I believe. I’m sure she’d be agreeable to –

 

ARTHUR: No, no. I don’t want to bother her. Not yet. Not without answers about her sister. (Chilling suspense music briefly plays.)

 

JOHN (bitter): The one walking around New York right now.

 

OSCAR: Yes.

 

JOHN: Tormenting people.

 

OSCAR: Poor Hattie. Where could she be? 

 

ARTHUR (sighing): My hope is that the house not only provides context, but answers, along with that book. We should be able to rid Hattie of Scratch once and for all. 

 

OSCAR: Will she need to be there for that?

 

ARTHUR: Possible. (A hopeful piano melody begins. Footsteps.) Hopefully not. I believe… well, we can probably draw Scratch through our dreams. 

 

OSCAR: How do you imagine?

 

JOHN: Using the stone.

 

ARTHUR: I-I-I don’t know. Ehm. The book will have answers.

 

OSCAR: Right. I’ll have a look at it on our way up there. If Daniel… (He walks.) Wait. 

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

OSCAR: Daniel. You don’t think he’d own a…

 

ARTHUR: O-Oh! Of course. He would absolutely have an automobile. 

 

OSCAR: It must be in his garage, of course.

 

ARTHUR: I can’t believe I didn’t think of that, perfect! H-He won’t mind.

 

OSCAR: You’re positive?

 

ARTHUR: Positive. And if he does… well, I don’t care right now.

 

OSCAR: Aye.

 

ARTHUR: Look, I’ll find the keys and come pick you up. Hurry along, I’ll be right behind you.

 

(Footsteps.)

 

OSCAR: Alright. Arthur?

 

ARTHUR: Yes?

 

OSCAR (fabric shifting): Uh… I-I may… i-if you’re not too… 

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

OSCAR: Uh, across from the hospital, ehm… (Dismissive.) Nevermind. See you shortly.

 

ARTHUR: Alright. (At a distance, the door opens and shuts. Arthur whispers.) Okay. Let’s find the keys. I assume there’s a garage next door, the one Oscar alluded to.

 

JOHN: Why did you give Oscar the book? (Wood scrapes against the floor.)

 

ARTHUR: Hm? 

 

JOHN: The book, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: The keys, John. Do you see them? (Something jingles.) Look, we… we can’t drive the car and read the book at the same time, can we? Right? Let’s get going. Are they on this table, in the front hall, here?

 

JOHN: But you asked him to read it before you knew we were driving.

 

ARTHUR: What is this about?

 

JOHN: I would’ve read it. We would’ve read it. What if there’s something he misses? What if he doesn’t get the correct information, Arthur? Have you considered how… dangerous it may be, filtering information through someone who hasn’t read or experienced as much as we have?

 

ARTHUR: You think… he may be in danger?

 

JOHN: Sure. It’s possible, yes. Remember back in Arkham, with Armitage? The… book we opened there. And how dangerous it was. 

 

ARTHUR: You think this is a risk to Oscar?

 

JOHN: Of course. Why put the risk on him? But beyond that, I… I managed well enough against the Gug in the Dreamlands. When we first cracked open that book. (Darkly.) Why are you doubting me?

 

ARTHUR: Do you see the keys, here, on this table –

 

JOHN: No, there are no keys here.

 

ARTHUR: Are you sure? On this front table.

 

JOHN (don’t patronize me): Arthur.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): Your memory, John. I don’t know how to talk to you about it. When I do, you get defensive, when I don’t, I set myself up for danger. You aren’t… capable of being pragmatic about this. I need to rely on others right now. (Footsteps.)

 

JOHN: That’s what this is.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, I suppose so. I mean… (Ruffling through papers.) Are the keys here, on the kitchen table?

 

JOHN: No. (Arthur sighs.) Look. We haven’t had a moment to talk since heading to this house this afternoon. It’s been hectic.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, it’s been hectic. And continues to be hectic. John, you are looking, right?

 

JOHN (growling): Yes, I’m looking! Talk to me.

 

ARTHUR: I am talking to you! I can do two things at once. 

 

JOHN: Until Oscar is in the car. Then what? 

 

ARTHUR: What do you mean?

 

JOHN: All I’m saying is that you’re being very quick to bring Oscar into the grander picture.

 

ARTHUR: You advocated for –

 

JOHN: I know I did, and I stand by it. 

 

ARTHUR: What is this really about?

 

JOHN (haughty): Noel, Oscar, even Daniel. Have you considered the risk –

 

ARTHUR: Yes. We decided the risk to their lives was worth –

 

JOHN: Our risk, Arthur?

 

ARTHUR: What? How has our risk changed? The more people who can help us, the better chance we have of finding the Order of the Fallen Star, I –

 

JOHN: Or the more risk you’re putting on us. 

 

ARTHUR (baffled): How? John… how could we be put more at risk? The Butcher was firing openly in the streets! Larson is hunting us, actively! I mean, how could we put – (He sighs.) How could we be in any more danger? This isn’t… this isn’t l-like it was in Addison, or even on the train anymore, John. It… It doesn’t have to be just you and me. We have allies, now, don’t – don’t you see that?

 

JOHN: I see it.

 

ARTHUR (fiercely) So what’s the issue, then? What on Earth is the problem? (A slow piano melody begins.) More people watching our back, more people helping us. (Passionately.) Hell, John, the only reason Daniel is alive, the only reason we’re alive, is because we started trusting people again. Don’t you realize that?

 

JOHN: I’m not saying we don’t trust people. I’m –

 

ARTHUR: Then what are you saying? What risk are you talking about? John. (He sighs.) Look, I am tired of being alone in this. I’m tired of not… knowing who to trust, who to talk to. Who to rely on. Who I can rely on. It’s what… kept me away from Daniel for years, it’s… it’s what kept me away from the world, from my grief.

 

JOHN: Risk of losing yourself, if Oscar should follow us and die. What’s to say you won’t fall down into your self-loathing again, like you did in Addison?

 

ARTHUR: I’m over that, John. I confronted those fears, those feelings of self-hatred, and I’m past it. I’ve grown. And Oscar will be fine, so long as we find these keys. Are they here, on the sideboard?

 

JOHN: No, I don’t see them. Perhaps we should walk back to Marie’s, first, o-or take a taxi.

 

ARTHUR (frustrated): We don’t have time for this, John! (More steps.) We’ll try the front hall table again. They’re not here, you’re sure?

 

JOHN: They’re not here, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: But are you sure? Are you… you’re sure? (He starts rifling.)

 

JOHN: Maybe the kitchen table again, might be…

 

(Keys jingle.)

 

ARTHUR (accusatory): What are these, then? What. Are. These? (He continues to jingle the keys.) Is it… these are keys. These are car keys. John. 

 

JOHN: I didn’t see them. I didn’t see them a minute ago.

 

ARTHUR (quietly): You didn’t see them here.

 

JOHN (calmly): No. I’m sorry, Arthur. I must’ve missed them.

 

ARTHUR: They were right here. 

 

JOHN (defensively): I didn’t see them. I didn’t see Daniel at the hospital, either, it doesn’t mean anything. (Arthur sighs.) Where are you –

 

ARTHUR: To get to the fucking car. We’ve already wasted time. Oscar is undoubtedly waiting on the roadside for us already, it’s a five minute walk, he made it in two… (He sighs.) I’m not going to turn into Scratch because of this fucking stone. (Arthur pulls a door open and shut. Some cars drive by.) 

 

JOHN: Otherwise you’d give it to Oscar. What? 

 

ARTHUR: Perhaps he should know.

 

JOHN (horrified): No! You want to tell him about the stone!?

 

ARTHUR: Why not?

 

JOHN: Because he could actively fight it. Or try to stop you! 

 

ARTHUR: Doesn’t he deserve to know? Like we do? (The sounds of cards fade. Crickets chirp.)  Less risk for him. Right?

 

(A sad piano melody begins to play.)

 

ARTHUR: Right.

 

JOHN: I… I suppose we’ll –

 

ARTHUR: Then we’ll tell him. Where’s the garage?

 

JOHN: To your right. Wait!

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN: If you’re truly intent on telling Oscar about the stone… do you still plan to give it to him? Should we run out of time.

 

ARTHUR: Why?

 

JOHN (scathing): Because I’m not willing to risk our lives on you making a friend.

 

ARTHUR: Nothing’s changed. If we have to. If there’s no other choice. (He grunts, rolls back a garage door.)

 

JOHN: Telling him makes it much more difficult, Arthur. How do you –

 

ARTHUR: I will make it happen, if and only if. Now. Car? (He walks forward.)

 

JOHN: Here. 

 

(The keys jingle as Arthur enters the car. He keeps trying the ignition, but the engine won’t turn over.)

 

JOHN: Arthur, I didn’t see them. The keys. (A long pause.) Arthur. I’m just trying to explain –

 

ARTHUR (cutting him off): Look, stop. I believe you. Okay? (Seriously.) I believe you because there’s no other reason you would be wasting time when our life is on the line, John. That is the only reason. But if you’re telling me… that I don’t need allies like Oscar, because you have this covered? You are dead wrong. (Intently.) Dead. Wrong. 

 

(The engine starts.) 

 

Now. To the hospital. Directly to. Which is right, on this road.

 

JOHN: I know. 

 

(Arthur sighs. The sound of the car quiets as they drive off.)

 

ARTHUR: Look. I believe you. It’s just been… scary, John. (A slow piano melody begins.) You have no idea what it’s like, relying on one person and one person only to… have them be… unsure. Of things. I-I don’t know what it means, but. If I don’t make sure, to have other people looking out for me… for us. It could all be over. Very quickly. Y-You must realize that. 

 

JOHN: I do. 

 

ARTHUR (quietly): Good. 

 

JOHN: The hospital is here on the right hand side. (Arthur takes the keys.) But I don’t see Oscar out front. 

 

ARTHUR: Where is he? It’s been long enough. More than long enough. You don’t think he walked, did he? Tried to head back up to Daniel’s?

 

JOHN: I didn’t see him.

 

ARTHUR: Could he still be inside? (To himself.) Oh, that doesn’t make sense. Daniel would be fast asleep. Unless something happened to him.

 

JOHN: What do you mean?

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know. I mean… I-I presumed it was safe. Larson only hired the Butcher, but… what if he sent multiple people to kill us? To kill Daniel?

 

JOHN (chiding): Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: It means… we could all be in danger. We should head up there. (He exits the car. Crickets chirp.)

 

JOHN: Wait.

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

JOHN: Across the road. Remember, he said something, before he left.

 

ARTHUR: Right, right. He started to talk about… what’s across the road?

 

JOHN: I don’t know. Cross. Now, there’s no traffic. (Grunting in exertion, Arthur walks.) There’s a closed shop, a few apartments… a church. 

 

ARTHUR: A church?

 

JOHN: It’s also closed.

 

ARTHUR (surprised): Closed?

 

JOHN: Locked up tight.

 

ARTHUR: Well, is there anything else?

 

JOHN: A bar.

 

ARTHUR (sadly knowing): A bar. 

 

JOHN: Tin God. You don’t suppose he…

 

ARTHUR: I do.

 

JOHN: The handle is to your left. (Arthur enters the bar. The door shuts behind him. Tinny, upbeat music plays in the background, amidst the occasional clatter and hushed whispers.) The bar is quiet. Sad looking. There are a number of men nursing drinks at the bar to your left. The bartender is nodding at you. The few tables that are here are filled with men speaking in hushed tones… it’s not very lively. 

 

ARTHUR: Oscar?

 

JOHN: One of the men at the bar.

 

ARTHUR: Damn. 

 

(A forlorn melody begins.)

 

JOHN: To your left. Here. He’s… staring at a drink. A full glass of something strong-looking. He’s not moving. His hands are on either side of it, his forearms resting on the bar. 

 

OSCAR (hollowly): You took your time.

 

JOHN: His head hasn’t turned from the glass.

 

ARTHUR: I’m s-sorry. Are you… Are you okay?

 

OSCAR: Am I okay? You know… I haven’t thought about that night in many, many years. 

 

ARTHUR: I’m sorry, Oscar, I should – I should have kn –

 

OSCAR: No. No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. All of it. What happened. What happened to… (His clothes shift.) Why didn’t I go back? 

 

JOHN: He’s turned to you. His eyes are wet with tears.

 

OSCAR: Why didn’t I go back to see? To find out what happened?

 

ARTHUR: I… I don’t know, Oscar. Sometimes we can’t go back, I… (He trails off.)

 

OSCAR: Aye.

 

ARTHUR: Is this why… Is this why you planned on… if we hadn’t taken separate means of travel to the house…?

 

OSCAR: Aye.

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know what to s…

 

JOHN: He’s looking back at the drink, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: Oscar.

 

JOHN: His expression has changed from pained –

 

ARTHUR: Wait. (Oscar’s clothes shift.)

 

JOHN: He’s picked up the drink.

 

ARTHUR (anxiously): W-W –

 

JOHN: And he’s –

 

ARTHUR (suddenly upbeat): You look like you’ve hit bedrock. Friend. 

 

JOHN: He’s stopped. 

 

(The chair squeaks.) 

 

OSCAR: What?

 

ARTHUR: Bedrock. Say… have you ever had a Blood and Sand?

 

OSCAR (confused): A what? No, no. I don’t –

 

ARTHUR: It’s a cocktail, actually. Mind if I sit? (Arthur does so.) A friend turned me on to them once, some years ago. Though, at the time, I was drinking too much, anyway. I don’t think he minded. 

 

OSCAR: I don’t understand.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): I understand what you’re going through. What you’re feeling. 

 

OSCAR: Do you?

 

(Arthur takes a breath.)

 

ARTHUR: Yes. My daughter is dead because of me. Because of my… negligence. 

 

(A soft clatter against wood.)

 

JOHN: He’s put the drink back down.

 

ARTHUR: Here. See? Here, that’s her. (The shuffling of paper.) This photo. Here. This is her. This is the last… This is all I have of her. 

 

OSCAR: Arthur –

 

ARTHUR: It’s fine. I-I mean, it’s not fine, but I’ve accepted it. I drowned myself in enough sorrow and alcohol to last many lifetimes. And I can promise you, that the little tin god in this bar won’t help. 

 

OSCAR: What does?

 

ARTHUR (pfft): I’d love to know. (The chair squeaks.) I’d love it if it were one clean idea, like… effort. Or… friendship. Or coming to terms with your past. The truth is, Oscar, there is no one way to fix what’s broken. To fix what… pieces of us have… have been lost. Some days… y-yes, it’s friendship. Other days, it’s… making amends. Some days, it’s simply… getting out of bed and, yes, some days, for people like you and I, it feels like it’s easier to drown the sorrow. 

 

But that’s not today. 

 

OSCAR: Why not?

 

ARTHUR: Because I still need you, today.

 

JOHN: He’s looking at us again, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: Helping. Sometimes it feels good for the soul, I get that. I was leaving Arkham a few months ago, and… I saw a car on the side of the road and I pulled over to help. Not because they were in distress, though it looked like they might be, but because in that moment, I-I felt like I needed to – to do something good, to help someone. I needed to do something good.

 

JOHN: I remember that. 

 

ARTHUR: I think you’re the same way. You help others. You help me. (He chuckles.) In so many ways, today. You saved Daniel’s life.

 

OSCAR: I didn’t –

 

ARTHUR (intently): You did. You saved his life today. Not because of your past, not because of your mistakes, but because of who you are and what you’ve chosen to do with your life.

 

OSCAR: I help because I have to, because of what I’ve done. I –

 

ARTHUR: No. I don’t buy that. You help because you care. I see it. 

 

OSCAR: I – ! 

 

ARTHUR: You do. But you are weak. And I’m weak, too. In the same ways. But I also see your immense strength when you help others and I see how hard it is for you to help yourself. I see that. 

 

OSCAR: You say that, but I was ready. (A soft clatter.) To down this. 

 

ARTHUR: You look like you waited.

 

OSCAR: I prayed.

 

ARTHUR: For what?

 

OSCAR: A reason. 

 

ARTHUR: And now you have one. (Intently.) I need your help tonight, Oscar. Hattie needs your help. Do what you do best and help people. 

 

(The chair squeaks.)

 

OSCAR (thoughtfully): Bedrock.

 

ARTHUR: Yeah.

 

OSCAR: I like that.

 

ARTHUR: Me, too. (The sound of footsteps.) The car’s across the street. I’ll settle this for you. Go.

 

OSCAR: Thank you.

 

ARTHUR: Of course.

 

OSCAR: No, I mean it.

 

JOHN: He’s turned to us again.

 

OSCAR (sincerely): Thank you.

 

(He walks off. The door shuts behind him.)

 

JOHN: He’s left the bar and is heading across the street. Arthur, I… I think trying to help people is a noble goal. One I agree with.

 

ARTHUR (go on): But.

 

JOHN: But you can’t save everyone. You stopped him from a drink tonight, sure. (Clothing shifts, paper bills being flipped.) But perhaps Oscar is beyond saving.

 

ARTHUR: Hm.

 

JOHN: What?

 

(Arthur begins to walk.)

 

ARTHUR: I’m glad Parker didn’t feel the same way. 

 

(He exits the bar. The door shuts behind him.) 

 

(A click, followed by fading static.)

 

(END Part 36.)