Lights out for the devil and Mr. O.
It is later than you think.
Turn out your lights. Now.
We bring you stories of the supernatural and the supernormal dramatizing the fantasies and the mysteries of the unknown.
We tell you this frankly so that if you wish to avoid the excitement and tension of these imaginative plays, we urge you calmly but sincerely to turn off your radio now.
This is Mr. O.R. Joerler. Do you enjoy going to auctions? Do you get excitement out of opening old boxes, old packages, old trunks that you buy under the auctioneer's hammer?
As you lift the end of that old steamer trunk, does your heart beat a little faster as you think maybe it'll be full of gold coins or letters from Lincoln or are alright, alright. That's a very human trait anticipation.
So let's anticipate today's play, The Chest, which happens after a short message.
Dr. Campbell Moses, medical director of the American Heart Association, talks about a serious health problem in America today.
Thousands of Americans die unnecessarily each year from heart attack because they don't know the symptoms and delay getting medical care.
What are the symptoms? They vary, but they often start with a squeezing pain in the center of the chest behind the breastbone, the pain radiating to the shoulder, arm, neck, or jaw.
It's often accompanied by sweating and occasionally by nausea, vomiting, and shortness of breath.
If this happens to you, don't delay. Call your doctor and carefully describe your symptoms.
If you can't reach your doctor, get to a hospital emergency room as quickly as possible.
Remember that frequently the symptoms of heart attack subside completely and then recur. In heart attack, minutes count, so act promptly.
Helping you to feel better and live better longer is just one of the services of your Heart Association, just one of the reasons you should give to your heart fund.
And now, if you haven't already done so, turn off your lights now and listen to the chest.
Alright, gentlemen, alright, gentlemen. Now here's an opportunity you can't afford to miss. As the Americans say, an opportunity of a lifetime. I assure you that no single piece has more pretentious value than this genuine oak and traveling front.
As you see, gentlemen, it's bound in brass and locked tight and secure with a massive, genuine brass lock. What's in it, nobody knows.
But the law says that being unclaimed, strange, merchandise, whoever buys it gets it all, as you might say, with all that's in it, be it gold or silver plate or the jewels of India.
Now, what am I offered for this chest? Make your bids and make them good, gentlemen. Do I hear someone say ten pounds? Five shillings.
Now, gentlemen, look at it, locked tight and nobody knows what's inside. A fortune waiting here and somebody talks of five shillings. Now come, let's on with it. What am I offered? Five and six.
Oh, gentlemen, for firewood alone. I offer six. Six. Six and six. Seven.
Well, gentlemen, it appears we're having a competition in little numbers. Is there anybody here would like to raise a bid in eight and six? Seven and six. Eight.
Gentlemen, I ask you, ain't there anybody here would heard what I said about this chest being locked and sealed? Now, let it go. It's the last thing I've got to auction. So let it go and we'll all go home.
Going to the little gentlemen right down the air for eight shillings even. They're here anymore. Sold. Step right up here, sir, and claim your purchase.
Now, what might your name be for the record? Name? My name is Mags. Yes, Harold Mags. And the money, Mr. Mags? Oh, yes, sir. My pocketbook. Got it all ready. Eight shillings, sir. Here you are.
Right you are. You understand, of course, the cottage is extra. Oh, is it? Right you are. Now, where will I send the chest? I don't know. I mean extra charges. Where will I send it?
92 Applegate Southwest Three. Right you are. Is that all? That's all. The chest is yours. You'll get it in the morning. In the morning? But I'll be at work in the morning. Your old woman will be home, won't she? Oh, yes, but she doesn't know anything about it.
In the morning, then deliver it, and in the morning you'll get it. Good night to you. Oh, good night. And thank you. Thank you.
Thank it me, huh? If you knew what I know, that trunk, you wouldn't be thanking me. You'd crush me to the devil.
Thank you, Harold. Yes, Agatha. Well, I must say it's a fine time for a man to be getting home. Mr. Bainbridge asked me to stay and check the inventory. Never mind what Mr. Bainbridge said. Did you get anything extra for doing what Mr. Bainbridge said? Well, I...
Never mind what he said. I tell you what you get for me. A cold supper, that's what. Oh, it's all right. Oh, is it? Now just a minute, Mr. Harold Maggs. There's something else I want to talk to you about. Yes, Agatha.
How much money have you been making on the races? Races? Me? You. Oh, no, you know I never play the horses. And how much money does that rich uncle of yours in Australia leave you?
Australia? Me? Why, Agatha, what are you talking about? I haven't got any uncles in Australia.
Oh, then maybe it's a gold mine you discovered. Or maybe a well that gives a hundred gallon of petrol a minute. Agatha, are you all right? The chest. Oh. Why did you buy it? Well, I... They didn't give it to you, did they?
Because only eight shillings in that... Only eight shillings? You mean to stand there and tell me you spent eight whole god-given shillings for that thing? Yes. Harold Maggs, I ought to... Agatha, what's that? Have you a mind for that? Up in the garret. Yes, yes, up in the garret. Where that great prize of yours is. Up in the garret where you should be until your head's examined. But, Agatha, what... It's Freddy breaking the thing open to see what's inside. Breaking it open? Yes, and I told him to do it.
Freddy? Have you opened it yet? Not yet, Mom. Oh, Agatha, please, I don't want him to open... Oh, keep quiet. I know you haven't got a key to it. But Raymond told me all about this prize package, the dead. Oh, but...
Plunked it right down in the middle of the kitchen floor. And poor Freddy and I had to carry it all the way upstairs. Oh, but, Agatha... Oh, we'll find out what's in it soon enough. Oh, no, please, he shouldn't break the lock. It's a good one. Maybe I could pick it. I'll go up...
No, no, Harold, come back here. Let Freddy do what I told him to. Harold! Harold, come back here that minute! Harold, you regret this, making me climb these stairs. Harold, do you hear me?
Mom, Mom, Maggie, stop! Harold, Harold, what's come over you? He won't smash my chest, he won't. Well, Mom said I could. She did, she did. She said I could. Oh, there you strike that boy. Oh, I didn't.
Well, you thought about it. He may not be your flesh and blood, Harold Megs, but he's mine. He's a big lout, thirty years old. Mom, he called me up his lout again. I heard, he's quite enough. Harold Megs, give me that hammer. Yes, Agatha.
I'll fix your precious chest, your precious lock. That's right, Mom. Show him, show him. Oh, a good one, Mom, you smashed it. Oh, it was a good padlock. You keep quiet. Buy a cat in the poke, will you?
I'll teach him, Mom. Well, now we'll see your grand bargain. Help me lift the lid, Freddy. Sure thing, Mom. We'll see what you'll win. Why, good money. Mom. Why? Why, it's empty. Empty. Harold Megs, you wretch, who, taking the bread out of the mouth of your good wife and your son to buy empty trunks. Wait, Agatha. Wait for what? For what?
It's not empty. What are you talking about? See, the whole inside crusted with dried blood.
Harold. Harold, wake up. Wake up. Open your eyes and you'll see. It's not morning. No, of course not. Open your eyes. I heard something. Well, what did you hear? Can't you hear anymore? I said there's someone in the house. What do you mean? Listen.
I don't hear anything. Don't talk. Listen. You heard? Yes. Up in the garret. Get up and do something. What could I do? Well, you're not going to let them steal the house away from us. There, again. But why in the garret? Are you going to lie there talking while we... But we've nothing there for anyone to take that...
It's Freddy. Freddy? Come on. No, not up there. When I'm going... Harold, come back and don't leave me alone to be murdered. Harold, don't go up there. Harold, I'm frightened. Agatha, come up here quickly. No, no, I'm afraid. Agatha, quickly.
All right, all right. I'm more afraid down here than I'll be up there. Can't be much to be afraid of. If you're not afraid, Harold. So dark up here. Well, Harold, what is it? Agatha, come here. Help me. Well, what is it? What's the matter with you? What... It's your Freddy. Freddy. Freddy!
The lid of the chest seems to be closed on his head, and I can't seem to open it.
We leave our The Devil and Mr. O's story of the chest for a message.
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Today's answer is high-protein ham. H-A-M. Crackus in Atlanta imported Polish ham. When you buy Crackus or Atlanta Polish ham, there's no waste, no gristle, no bone to throw away, and there's no water added either. It's all lean, flavorful ham down to the last tasty bit.
You can even use the small amount of jellied broth to make soups more nourishing or to create delicious gravies. And warm weather is time for relaxing. Feeding your family can be less work, and entertaining will be more fun if you get the Polish ham habit.
It's great for all outdoor or indoor dining, for snacks, picnics, and for every good food occasion. And Polish ham may be just the most economical answer to hot or cold meals your family and guests will love. It's the easiest food you can prepare because Polish ham is fully cooked when you buy it.
So if you wish, just zip open the tin, slice, serve, and enjoy from end to end.
And now back to our story of the chest.
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Oh, please.
Agatha, it's no use going on like this.
There's nothing we can do for you.
I knew you loved the boy.
I guess he's the only thing you ever loved in all your life.
Do something, do something, you're a man.
What is there to do?
Storms so bad, you just have to wait until morning, that's all.
If you hadn't bought that infernal chest.
If I hadn't bought it.
Murdered him, he did.
You hated him for the memory of my first husband.
Now, I wouldn't say that, Agatha.
Why not? He who bought the chest, so what you're doing?
Well, in a way you're right.
I brought the evil into the house, now didn't I?
What are you talking about?
An unhappy house and now there's evil in it.
What are you saying?
Since we came downstairs, all these hours since it happened, I've been thinking.
Thinking what?
How do you think Freddy died, and why?
You're crazy? Asking me if I know how he died?
I saw it, didn't I?
But I asked you, why did he die?
Why, why?
Because the infernal lid of it fell on his head, that's why.
Oh, my Freddy.
Yes, the evil did it.
Evil, evil, you are crazy.
The only thing evil was your buying it.
You just don't understand, do you Agatha?
What are you looking at me like that for?
I tell you the lid fell down on his head.
Evil.
Evil, evil, stop trying to make me as crazy as you are.
Come on back up there and help me carry my son down, so I can stretch him out decent and respectful for when the undertaker comes.
No Agatha.
What?
I've made up my mind, I won't go up there again.
Oh, yes you will.
He lied dead in a bed, my son, not up there.
No Agatha, I've made up my mind.
I figured out that up in the garret the evil has taken...
Evil be blasted.
My son, you will help me carry him down.
Don't stand there, don't stand there.
Storm's over.
Help me carry down his body so I can lay it out decent.
No Agatha, no, hear me out.
It's evil.
I'll have you locked away, I tell you.
Evil, and I knew somehow that it was there, that's why I dragged you downstairs again so quickly.
You never thought much of me Agatha, but this time, believe me, if I go up there with you, it means my life.
I've listened to enough. A split-headed little worm, that's what you are.
There's nothing up there but that blasted chest you bought, and Freddy's body.
And if you won't help me bring him down, then, Kershaw, I'll bring him down myself.
No Agatha, come back. Agatha, come back. Agatha, I beg you. Agatha!
Please. Agatha, you shouldn't have.
This once in all these years you should have listened to me.
If you'd have listened this time, I would have meant something more than...
Agatha? Agatha, what's doing up there? Are you all right?
Agatha, do you hear me? You all right? What in the...
Help me. Help me. Help me.
Agatha, what? Agatha, what? What happened? What's the matter?
Oh, Agatha, heaven help me. I can't come up to you.
I'm afraid.
Agatha, that's another hour. It's hard waiting, Agatha.
I've got to keep so quiet. I've got to listen.
Perhaps you'll say something.
I'll tell you something.
I've got to keep so quiet. I've got to listen. Perhaps you'll say something.
Call me again.
I've got to know what happened. A man can go crazy not knowing what happened.
I'll keep very quiet. Perhaps I'll hear you saying something up there.
Agatha?
Wind. I hear nothing but the wind, Agatha.
I'm afraid to move out of this chair, Agatha. As afraid as I've ever been in all my life.
And that's been many times, Agatha.
Something safe about this chair. It's my chair.
I've sat in it so many times it knows me. And while I'm in it, nothing can happen to me.
Now can it?
But if I were to get up, leave it. Walk toward the door. No, I won't do that.
I'll sit here and wait in the chair. And when it's daylight again...
Agatha, is that you? I heard you again.
Agatha? Agatha?
Agatha, why don't you answer me? I hear you moving around. Why don't you answer me?
Agatha!
Agatha, isn't it you?
Sounds as if...
As if a heavy chest...
A heavy chest... were being moved...
Moved along to the head of the stairs.
No. Nothing more.
So quiet...
Coming down the steps...
Coming down...
Agatha, is that you? You bringing the chest down?
Agatha, is it you?
No, no, it couldn't be. You could it, Agatha.
And who is bringing it down?
Who is it? Answer me! Answer me!
Agatha, answer me!
I've got to get out of here. Run.
But I can't. I can't. I'm too afraid.
Who is it?
Agatha, it is you, isn't it? It must be you. It must be.
Not many more steps and I'll see.
I won't stop you, whoever you are. Don't bring that chest down here. Stop! Stop!
Stopped.
No further.
Stopped. I won't have to see. I won't have to see...
Again.
Oh no.
So close. Bottom of the stairs. I'll see. I'll see. I'll see.
What? Oh, if I could close my eyes.
Only one more step. I know it. I know it.
No. No. How could it be?
No one. Just the chest. No one with it.
How can that be?
No one.
How could a trunk come down the stairs, one at a time, alone?
Daylight.
Why doesn't daylight come?
There's something buzzing in my head.
Oh, my head. What was it? You're staring at that thing of evil?
I've got to know. Yes, I've got to know.
Get up. Close to it. Just a chest. Why should I be afraid of it?
Just a chest. Put my hand on it.
Moved. Moved under my hand.
Thing of evil, I'll get you. You won't get me. I'll get you. My axe. Where's my axe?
Closet. Was in here. Yes. Got to find my axe. Won't get me, you blasted chest. You got it.
You hear me, you evil axe in my hand. I'm coming for you. You came after me, but I'll get you.
I see you there at the foot of the steps, you chest, you. Lying there so quiet, aren't you?
Think I'll open you and then you'll get me too? Well, you won't. You won't.
I'm coming for you. See? I'm creeping close to you. Slowly. Slowly. The way you crept down the stairs for me.
How do you like it, you evil? Waiting for your doom? I'll get close to you.
I'll swing my axe and then your evil will be over, won't it? You'll be wood, wood and twisted bands of brass.
And then I won't have to be afraid anymore, now will I? Now! I'm close enough. Your doom, chest. I'm your doom. Here!
I did it. I did it, you evil chest. You cracked you wide open. I'll pull the rest of you wide apart and then...
Agatha! You were in it! My axe is in your skull!
Harry! Oh, Harry! Yes, Mr. Jemisin? Harry, that chest you delivered over Applegate Way. Where's the signed receipt for it?
Oh, there it is. It's lying right here. Received one chest. What are you laughing at, Mr. Jemisin?
Just thinking. Thinking of what, might I ask you, sir? Thinking and wondering if they found out...
What's that, sir? That the chest was the one in which that murderer, the young last Wednesday, used to stuff his murdered victims.
Cool! I wonder if that little man that bought it, what was his name? Max. Found out about his bargain yet.
This is Mr. O.R. Jobler. I can just hear somebody in the Joliet or the Dubuque saying,
Hey, wait a minute, Mr. O., you mean to say that old chest actually killed someone?
Now listen, friend, the supernormal and coincidence, who can separate the two?
I'll tell you something that really happened to me, a very strange happening, after this pause for station business.
See? See the leaf? Right here in my hand. Isn't that a new leaf? Yes, it is a new leaf.
Here, I'm going to turn over a new leaf. Get it? Leaf? New? What does that mean, to turn over a new leaf?
Well, in serious, means that you're going to have a little change. From what to what?
From bad to good. Oh, really? Yeah. Well, suppose somebody was crying. They could switch from tears to a smile.
Suppose they were lonely. They could go from loneliness to having somebody to play with.
Well, suppose somebody wasn't loved. Could they turn over a new leaf?
They could go from not loving somebody to loving somebody. How do they do that?
All they have to do is try to love somebody. Just try? Yeah. It's easy to love people when you try.
Love makes all things new again. Hey, what was that? Another sound of love from the Franciscans.
This is Mr. Oligaine. Yes, about that thin line between coincidence and the supernormal.
A number of years ago, late at night, I sat down at my typewriter to write a story. I sat and I sat, but no ideas.
Then, just as the clock struck 12, the idea came. Quickly, I began to type.
The story, a criminal in a hotel room hiding from the police. He climbs out the window and hangs from a narrow ledge high above the street.
Well, I got that far with the plot and then suddenly tired, I went to bed.
The next morning, the headline of the paper told of a criminal who had hidden in a hotel room.
Then, when the police broke in exactly at midnight, had tried to escape by hanging from his fingers from the narrow ledge outside the room.
In other words, as I was writing that story, at the very moment, it was actually happening.
Coincidence, supernormal, who knows? That brings us to our next play on the series.
Its title is Paris Macav and it concerns itself with two undergraduates on a summer tour of Europe who decide to see, you know, the real Paris.
They crash a dance and discover that, well, as usual, you're going to have to wait for the rest of that until next week.
It is later than you think.
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