Babalu - Episode 104: No Sleep

Narrator: The following series addresses sensitive topics

including self harm and suicide. Listener discretion is advised.

Uneasy Tiger: Uneasy Tiger.

Reina: You really wanna do this?

Luisa: I feel like I have to.

Right?

Reina: I don't know.

Once you put your DNA into that system, you never know what

you're gonna find or who you're gonna find.

Luisa: Reina, that is the point. I can't exactly ask my uncle for

a paternity test, can I? Maybe this way, I can find my

biological father or someone else who can give me clarity.

Reina: But you haven't listened to all the tapes yet. Maybe your

mom will give you

the clarity.

Luisa: She did mention a guy named Sam, like, in a romantic

sense.

Reina: You don't even know if your mom and Jim hooked up. He

may have just

been in love with her.

Luisa: Maybe. Maybe.

Or my mom and my uncle had an affair and got pregnant with me.

Oh my god.

What the fuck?

Reina: Yeah. That is fucked up.

Luisa: And the whole thing about my grandmother, like, just up

and leaving my mom and Patti, I had no idea. Patti said she died

a long time ago back in China.

Reina: Weird.

Why lie about that?

Luisa: Why lie about any of this?

Ronnie: I didn't know we're expecting company.

Luisa: Hey, Ronnie.

Ronnie: What's good, Lu?

Luisa: Oh. You know, just my life imploding.

Ronnie: I see. What's going on?

Luisa: Too much to even explain.

Reina: It's a lot, babe. I'll tell

you later.

Luisa: Mhmm.

Ronnie: What's the DNA kit for?

Reina: For Lu, I told you it's a lot.

Ronnie: You weren't kidding.

Reina and Luisa: Nope.

Ronnie: Anything I can do?

Reina and Luisa: Nope.

Ronnie: Alright.

Well, I'll let you two get on with it.

Reina: Okay. Love you. Bye. Bye.

Yeah, girl. This is some Jerry Springer shit.

Luisa: With some Maury Povich sprinkled on top?

Reina and Luisa: You are not the father.

Luisa: Oh my god.

Reina: Okay. Here's the thing. So what? So what if Jim is your

father? What does that change?

He's basically been your father anyway, and he loves you, and

he's always been there for you. None of that changes.

Luisa: I know.

Reina: But let's say hypothetically that Jim isn't

your father. Okay. And you do end up doing this DNA kit, and

down the road, you find your biological father or whoever's

out there. You know nothing about this guy, and maybe that's

for a reason. If your biological father is out there somewhere

and he's known about you and hasn't made one attempt to be in

your life this whole time, is that someone you wanna invite

into your life?

Luisa: Mm-mm.

Reina: Have you heard about the woman who did a DNA kit to find

her biological parents, and it turned out that her father was a

mass murderer?

Luisa: Oh, god. No. Are you kidding?

Reina: No. This is real life, Luisa. Crazy shit happens to

people.

Luisa: Jesus.

Reina: Is that the case with you? Probably not. But still,

maybe your mom didn't give much detail about him for a reason.

Luisa: Yeah. Right.

Reina: Listen. You know that you're my sister from another

mister, and I'll support you with whatever you wanna do. But

I think you just need to take a moment and take a deep breath.

You don't have to do anything right now. So take a few days.

Maybe listen to a few more tapes. Sleep on it. Whenever you

need to process all of this, new information. And in the

meantime, let's put this kid away and not worry about it.

Yeah?

Luisa: Yeah.

Reina: Okay, putting you away, DNA kit, because we are not

going fully Maury Povich today. Okay? Thank you.

Bye bye.

Luisa: Bye bye.

Reina: Adios.

Luisa: Smell you later. Maybe I should start seeing a therapist.

Reina: Everyone should see

a therapist, Lu. And it's always the people who need it the most

who don't.

I'm hinting. Hint. Hint.

Luisa: Years ago, I casually told Patti that I was thinking

about seeing a therapist, and she said, why? What's wrong?

And then proceeded to interrogate me. I think she

thought I was depressed or I don't know.

Reina: And that was before you knew all of this shit?

Shit.

Luisa: Exactly. You like your therapist?

Reina: Love her. I can give you her contact info.

Luisa: Yes. I would love a rec. Rei. What if Jim is my dad? Does

my aunt know?

Shit. Does Jim even know?

Reina: Oh, right.

Jesus. I still can't believe that Patti yanked your mom's

hair

out over a report card.

Luisa: Right.

Reina: Imagine if she knew about this whole thing.

Luisa: Exactly.

Reina: Don't get me wrong. I know Patti can be a bit spicy,

but I didn't know she was ghost pepper.

Luisa: Capsaicin.

Cap a what now?

Capsaicin.

What's that? A pepper?

I I think I don't know. I think so. It's like it's like the

spiciest thing on earth.

I don't know.

Reina: I'm I'm gonna Google this later.

Luisa: Yeah. Fact check me.

Reina: Anyway, I don't remember Patti ever showing, like,

violent behaviors growing up.

Luisa: Because she wasn't violent.

Reina: I guess people can change.

Luisa: They were in high school when that fight happened. Also,

do siblings ever get along?

Reina: You know, I don't get along with mine.

Luisa: Exactly. God. What am I gonna do? If my mom and Jim, how

could I ever look at my uncle the same?

Reina: Look, Lu, when you first told me about these tapes, I was

a little apprehensive. But I didn't say anything because I do

think Debra's right. If there's anyone that deserves to hear

those tapes, it's you. Obviously, I don't think either

of us thought that these tapes were gonna spill the tea that

they have spilt, but here we are. Lu, everything you hear on

these tapes belongs to your mom.

I'm not telling you to stop listening to them, but knowing

what you know now, if you do keep on listening, then I think

you're gonna have to be okay with keeping whatever you learn

to yourself.

Luisa: Yeah. Can't put her on blast.

Reina: Don't blow up your mom's spot. What good would it do

anyway?

What's done is done.

Luisa: Yeah. It is what it is.

Reina: Yep. Hey.

I love you, sissy.

Luisa: Hey. I love you, sissy.

Dr. Orion Office Admin: Dr. Selena Orion's office.

Luisa: Hi. I was referred to Dr. Orion by my best friend, and I

was hoping to schedule an appointment.

Dr. Orion Office Admin: I'm sorry, ma'am. Doctor. Orion

wouldn't be able to accept you since you're a friend of a

patient.

Luisa: Oh, oh, yes. Duh. Sorry.

Dr. Orion Office Admin: Also, she's not accepting new clients

at the moment.

Luisa: Got it. Thank you anyway.

Ronnie: Uh-huh. Bye bye.

Valley Therapy: Hi. You've reached Valley Therapy. We are

currently unable to take your call, but please leave a brief

message after the tone, and our office will reach out to you as

soon as possible.

Automated Messages: Sorry, this voicemail inbox is full.

Goodbye.

Luisa: The hell?

Automated Messages: You've reached Citrus Grove Therapy.

Unfortunately, we are no longer operating in the Los Angeles...

Hi. This is Doctor Jane Simpson... This is Anita Osorio

with Sunflower Therapy...

Annette: Hi. You've reached Annette. Hello?

Luisa: Oh, a real person. Sorry. Hi. I thought you were gonna be

another voicemail. Anyway, my name is Luisa, and I'm looking

to start therapy.

Are you taking new clients?

Annette: Yes, I am.

Luisa: Great. I'd love to start the process then.

Annette: Fantastic. Just a bit of information for you before we

get started. First, I don't accept insurance. My rate is

300...

Luisa: Mhmm. 300?

Annette: An hour.

Luisa: Do you happen to work on a sliding scale?

Annette: No.

Luisa: Oh, well, okay. I will figure something out then.

Annette: Fantastic. For appointments, I only take

clients on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Which of those

are usually good for you?

Luisa: Any of those, but afternoons are probably best for

me.

Annette: Okay. I'm looking at my schedule. How does the October

28 look?

Luisa: Did you mean to say did you mean to say September 28?

Annette: No. October 28.

Luisa: We're in August.

Annette: I'm sorry. That's my first opening.

Luisa: What if I needed something sooner?

Annette: Are you having suicidal thoughts?

Luisa: No.

Annette: Because if you are experiencing suicidal thoughts

Luisa: I'm not having suicidal thoughts.

Annette: Fantastic.

Luisa: Okay. Say I book that date. What am I supposed to do

in the next two months?

Annette: I could recommend some reading material.

Luisa: Reading material?

Annette: Yes.

Luisa: Could you recommend another therapist?

Annette: I'm sorry. No.

Luisa: Okay.

Annette: I can take down your info and let you know if

something opens up.

Luisa: Yeah. You know what? No. I'm all set. Thank you.

Annette: Fantastic.

Luisa: Fantastic. God, no wonder everyone's crazy.

Sherry: It's 02:53AM, and I'm wide awake. Deb gave me these

sleeping pills, but, well, they don't seem to be working, do

they? I took them, oh, four hours ago. Meanwhile, Babalu's

out like a light. Sleep when baby sleeps.

Yeah. No shit. How did I someone who probably hasn't had a decent

night's sleep in the last fifteen years, give birth to

this angelic thing that just sleeps no problem. Sweet Babalu,

she loves to sleep. Maybe she was just born that way.

If only there was a pill that could turn off the voices in my

head, but they can't even get sleeping pills right. So.

I

guess I could do some homework, or I could go soak in the tub.

It's been a while since I've had a good soak. Let's see. Read

pages 78 to 90, personality disorders. Ugh.

Maybe later. Whose dumb idea was it to immediately go back to

school after having a baby? Oh, yeah. Me. Oh, this is funny.

I wrote down in my notes, "narcissistic personality

disorder, ...Patti? Question mark. Or just a bitch? Question

mark." Can't say if she's a bonafide narcissist, but she

definitely loves to hear herself talk. Maybe some of us are just

born broken. Yeah. I I think I'll go soak in the tub.

Jim: So how's the short rib?

Luisa: Oh, it's good.

Jim: Yeah? Good. Yeah. I I understand. This this place is

no Cheesecake Factory, but I thought it'd be nice to come

here.

You used to love this place. Oh, remember how you used to say,

uncle, can we go to the fancy restaurant? Five years old, and

your favorite restaurant was an old steakhouse. Yeah. Hon, how's

your fish?

Patti: Soggy, but good.

Jim: Yeah. Good. Good. Glad my girls are good.

Luisa: How's your steak, uncle?

Jim: It's quite delicious, actually.

Patti: Lulu, how's work?

Luisa: Busy.

Patti: Must be.

We never see you anymore.

Jim: We miss you, kid. So the memoir, it's going good?

Luisa: Yep.

Jim: I still can't believe you're working on a book about

the Pine Street killings. I remember when that happened. It

was all over the news.

Luisa: Well, the book isn't about the killings. It's about

the woman who survived.

Jim: Yeah. Right. Of of course.

Luisa: I actually just had my first meeting with her.

Jim: Oh, yeah. How was that?

Luisa: Pretty intimidating at first.

Jim: Oh, how so?

Luisa: She just tells it like she sees it. You know? There's

no BS with her. For example, when we met, I said something

like, oh, it's great to meet you. And her reply was, is it?

And she said it as if it was a legitimate question. Is it great

to meet me? Which caught me off guard, but she's got a point.

Like, how many times do we go around saying niceties like,

have a good day, and we don't even really mean it? We just say

these things by rote because they've been programmed into us.

So, yeah, I guess I appreciate your honesty. Honesty is, it's

hard for a lot of people.

Patti: I don't like this.

Luisa: Don't like what?

Patti: This woman. I don't like how she talked to you. What's

wrong with saying, it's great to meet you?

Luisa: Nothing, but that's not what she's trying

Patti: You weren't pretending.

Luisa: Say.

Patti: You did think it was great to meet her.

Luisa: But that's not the point that she's

Patti: I

think everyone should be kind to each other whenever possible.

Jim: Hear, hear.

Luisa: I don't necessarily disagree with

Patti: Instead, people get mad just because you say, it's great

to meet you. Why? To make you feel bad?

Luisa: She didn't make me feel bad.

Patti: Why couldn't she just say, thank you. It's nice to

meet you too.

Luisa: I don't care about that.

Patti: Things would be a lot better in this world if we were

more understanding and more kind to each other. What's so bad

about that?

Luisa: I couldn't agree more, auntie.

Patti: Hopefully, you don't have to deal with her anymore. Finish

her book and move on to publishing your own book.

Luisa: Auntie, it's fine.

Patti: It's not fine, Lulu.

Luisa: Trust me. She deserves to question anything and

everything. She's been through a lot. I mean a lot.

Patti: We all experience pain, Luisa.

Luisa: Ain't that the truth?

Jim: So when are auntie and I getting a signed copy of the

book?

Luisa: I have to finish it first.

Jim: Well, I want an advanced copy.

Luisa: Yep. Will do.

Jim: What's the next step in this whole thing?

Luisa: Writing it.

Jim: Right.

Right. Well, I can't wait to read it. No no spoilers.

Luisa: I would never.

Patti: I'm going to the ladies' room.

Luisa: What on earth was that?

Jim: Hm?

Luisa: That. Her outburst?

Jim: Oh, that. Patti's been a bit stressed out.

Luisa: A bit?

Jim: It's been busy at the shop. That's all.

Luisa: Okay.

Jim: Lu. Listen. I am just I'm so proud of you, kid. Auntie

too. We're both just so proud.

Luisa: Are you?

Jim: Is is that really a question?

Luisa: Do

you think my mom would be proud of me?

Jim: Of course, Luisa. Of course.

Luisa: Do

you think my father would be proud of me?

Jim: Your father. Luisa, I- Why are you- what's going on?

Luisa: I've just been thinking a lot about my mom lately and her

life and where I come from.

Jim: Is it because of that woman, Debra?

Luisa: So you do remember her?

Jim: Luisa, your aunt, that period of time... look. This is

something your aunt and I had... I know there's a lot you wish

you knew.

Patti: Who wants dessert? I walked by someone eating

tiramisu. Looks good. I'm gonna get one of those.

Luisa: Siri, read my text messages.

Siri: Okay. New message from Trey. Trey says, so I hate to

admit this, but I've never had Ethiopian, but I'd love to try

it with you. How's Tuesday?

Luisa: Would you like to reply?

No.

Siri: Trey says, I ate a Hot Pocket for dinner if that's any

indication of the type of man I am. I'm troubled, but I want to

change. These are my confessions.

Would you like to reply?

Luisa: No.

Siri, send a new text message.

Siri: Who do you want to send it to?

Luisa: Trey.

Siri: What do you want to say?

Luisa: Nice Usher reference, LOL, period. Man, now I want a

pepperoni and cheese Hot Pocket. Thanks. Period.

Siri: Your message to Trey says, Knight's other reference l o l.

Man, now I want a pepperoni and cheese Hot Pocket. Thanks.

Ready to send it?

Luisa: No.

Siri: No. Okay. What do you want to say?

Luisa: Nice. Usher reference l o l period. Now I want a pepperoni

and cheese Hot Pocket period.

So thanks for planting that idea in my head.

Siri: Your message to Trey says, nice user reference l o l. Now I

want a pepperoni and cheese Hot Pocket, so thanks for planting

that idea in my head. Ready to send it?

Luisa: Oh my god. What the hell?

No.

Siri: Okay. What do you want to say?

Luisa: I appreciate you sliding in an Usher reference, comma,

well done, period. How did you know that I live for Hot

Pockets, question mark? As for Tuesday, can I keep you posted,

Question mark? I just have so much work to do on the memoir,

and I gotta watch this docu series, which technically is

only a few hours long, but it'll likely take me a few days to

watch because I get scared easily. Period.

These are my confessions. Ugh. No. No. No.

No. This is way too long.

Siri: Your message to Trey says, I appreciate you sliding your

Luisa: No.

Siri: Usher reference.

Luisa: No. Cancel. Do not send.

Do not not send.

Siri: Pockets.

Luisa: Siri, don't send.

Siri: Okay. It's sent.

Luisa: Goddamn it.

Okay. All the lights are on. Doors are locked. Phone is

silenced, so no one can startle the shit out of me. Alright.

I think I'm ready.

Detective Lavell: I've lost sleep over this case for thirty

four years. You know, homicide detectives never stop thinking

about their cases. Even the ones that get solved, all of them,

they consume you. That's just part of the job. When a case

doesn't get closure, doesn't get solved, that's hell.

It haunts you. I arrived on the scene around 2AM that night. It

was a cool spring night. I actually remember how the air

smelled. The entire street was lit up with sirens.

But in the air, orange blossoms. All the trees on the block were

in bloom. Before you could even walk into the house, you knew

something horrific happened. You could see the blood trail

running from the front door all the way to the neighbor's yard

across the street, and then stepping into that house. Just

indescribable.

What happened that night to the Timmons family, I can only

describe as pure evil, sadistic, haunting. Thirty four years

without a single reliable suspect.

How?

What did we miss?

Luisa: Okay, Lu. You can do this. You can do this. This is

fine.

Please, brain.

Just let me go to sleep. 2:53? Fuck me.

Sherry: [singing] I'm not the kind who likes to tell you just

what you want me to... You're not the kind that needs to tell

me... Oh, shit.

Deb and I took the babies on a little road trip this past

weekend. At first, I didn't wanna

go, but Deb talked me into it. She's good at that. I'm glad she

did. It was nice to get away from here. Really nice.

But I think Deb needed it more than me. I forgot how quiet it

gets at night out there. We heard coyotes howling and the

stars were just incredible. It was hot as Hades though. On

Sunday, we got up early so we can get a little stroll in

before it got too hot.

Babalu loved it. Her eyes were darting all around and Max kept

pointing... "Mama, look. Mama, look." Deb's such a good mom.

Both babies just looked around as if seeing for the first time.

I remember being in awe too. The first time I went to Joshua

Tree, I must have been like eight years old. Mom and dad

loved road trips. I remember telling them how it looked like

the Flintstones. Crazy thing happened though.

As we made our way back to the car, we came across this large

group of people, a search and rescue team. Deb asked them what

was going on and they said a hiker was reported missing. He

was supposed to be home about a week ago, but no one had heard

from him. And they found his car still parked at one of the

trailheads. They showed us his picture and asked if we had seen

him or any random items strewn about, but we were no help.

The picture they had of him, he was in a tux like it was his

wedding photo or something. His face was beaming. Goddamn. One

day, you're having the best day of your life. The next... I

wonder if that hiker chose to go missing.

Maybe he wanted to disappear. It's a kinder way to say

goodbye. Go out into the desert on a hot day, take a purposeful

wrong turn, find a good hiding spot, then let nature run its

course. Your loved ones believe you went missing. Eventually,

your body gets found, if it gets found.

Everyone chalks it up to a tragic accident. The end. Only

he knows the truth. And he'll take that with him to the grave

or the next dimension or wherever we go. On the drive

back to our motel, I told Debra my theory and how it was the

perfect way to kill yourself.

And she was like, don't talk like that. And then she

got really quiet and she stayed quiet the rest of the car ride.

Anyway, we get back to the motel and we get the babies ready for

bed and she's still very quiet. But finally, she speaks and she

says, she point blank says, "Sher, are you having suicidal

thoughts?" I don't think anyone's ever asked me that

before. Even after I tried... I vaguely remember dad calling

911, but I don't remember anything after that until I woke

up in the hospital.

Dad and Patti were there, and then we all went home. That was

it. No one, not my family, not anyone at the hospital, ever

asked me why I tried to swallow a bottle of pills, and we never

spoke of it again. I think the only thing more shocking than

Debra being the first person to ask me that question is that I

answered honestly. I said, not right now.

Another thing happened at the park. When we were walking along

the trail, we saw this beautiful lizard of some sort. It was

perfectly perched on this rock and it had its head pointed

towards the sky absorbing the sun. We let the babies look at

it for a bit and I swear, I thought I saw a smile on its

little face as if it was happy. I couldn't believe how close it

let us get.

I think it liked our company. We eventually said our see you

laters and walked off. But later on, when we were coming back

down the trail, we saw this group of teenagers standing

where we stood. One of them screamed and started thrashing

around, and then all of them broke out laughing and ran off.

And I just felt this dread.

As we got close to the rock, I could see I could see the

lizard. Its little body stomped to death on that very rock it

was just sunbathing on. God. I wanted to kill those fucking

shitheads. It just takes a few assholes to ruin everything.

Gloria: Spock. Hush up now. That's Luisa. We know her.

Luisa: Hey, Spock. Hey, Gloria.

Gloria: Look what the cat dragged in.

Luisa: I know. I'm sorry.

I'm late. I tried calling

Gloria: There's no point in calling. I never pick up.

Luisa: Hey. You got a package. You want me to

bring it in?

Gloria: No.

Luisa: No?

Gloria: It's not mine.

Luisa: But it's addressed to you.

Gloria: I know what it is, and I don't want it.

Luisa: What is it? Hi, Spock. How you doing, sweet boy?

Gloria: Some weird shit from fans.

Luisa: You get fan mail?

Gloria: I didn't for a while, but now the show is out, I got

these lunatics sending me all kinds of nonsense.

Luisa: Anything good?

Gloria: Some lady from Illinois sent me a candle, so that's

nice, I suppose.

Luisa: Maybe that package has something nice too.

Gloria: I don't want it.

Luisa: Okey doke.

Gloria: You look like death warmed over.

Luisa: Yeah. I didn't sleep well.

Gloria: Rough night?

Luisa: It's a long story.

Gloria: Alright. Sit. I'll bring you some coffee.

Luisa: Thank you.

Oh, shoot. Is this the right tape?

Sherry: The guy looked like a freaking alien. And to top

things off, he was dressed just like Marvin the Martian with

this god awful red and green ensemble. God. I'm so

Gloria: Who's that?

Sherry: Fucking tired

of

Luisa: Oh. That's my mom.

Gloria: You have a tape of your mom talking?

Luisa: I actually have quite a few.

Gloria: What does she talk about?

Luisa: All kinds of things, really. So between that and your

new docuseries, I'm not exactly falling into a sweet slumber.

Gloria: My new docuseries?

Luisa: Yeah.

The one, the on the linoleum floor.

Gloria: That's not my docuseries.

Luisa: I thought you were...

Gloria: None of these shows or podcasts or docu whatever the

hell are mine. They're sick fantasies created by sick people

who want to help me tell my family's story.

Please.

Luisa: You're not involved at all?

Gloria: Like it would matter.

Luisa: It matters to me.

Oh, hey, I'm gonna start recording. Can I pour you a cup?

Gloria: No, thanks.

Luisa: Oh, blessed be the cup of Joe. Shit.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that, I don't know, you weren't involved

in telling your own story. I've never understood the whole true

crime thing. When I was a kid, I was sleeping over at a friend's

house, and I went into the kitchen to get some Doritos. And

her mom was watching an episode of, like, Forensic Folders,

Files? Forensic. Forensic Files.

Anyway, I went to the kitchen, grabbed the Cool Ranch. And as

I'm walking back through the living room, there on the TV,

mind you, they had a a gigantic TV, was a woman's dead body,

like a real one. No blurring. No clever camera tricks. Just this

woman's lifeless body on the side of the road.

That image still haunts me to this day. Oh, and I haven't had

a Cool Ranch Dorito since either. So.

Gloria: Luisa, do you know what the news, the media, all these

hobbyist detectives call my family's tragedy?

The Pine Street murders?

The Pine Street killings. The lives of four people, my entire

family, summed up in a catchy name. They call it that because,

well, we lived on Pine Street, and that just sounds so sweet,

so suburban, so safe,

so

entertaining. The most asinine of these true crime shows are

the ones that try to depict my family with these look alike two

bit actors getting paid to say over the top nonsense written by

crackpots who don't know shit about my family. I remember

watching one of these trashy shows, and it was a reenactment

of the day my family was killed. They have this hot young thang

playing me, and it's following her day, my day, where I was

apparently doing this, that, and the other. Anyway, it finally

gets to the part in the story where I'm about to leave the

house for the evening.

And as I'm leaving the house, they show my mother coming to

kiss me goodbye. And she says, I love you, honey. And then young

hot thing says to her, I love you more, mom. Like some leave

it to beaver shit. You know what really happened between me and

my mom that night?

Nothing. I didn't even see her. If I were to guess, she probably

was in the backyard having a smoke. She loved her evening

smokes. Now my dad, on the other hand, I knew he was in the

garage.

I could hear him in there, but I purposely walked in the other

direction so he wouldn't see me and I wouldn't have to say

anything about where I was going because I was on my way to see a

boy. A boy I suppose I really liked at the time. Who knows? I

can barely remember his face. No.

There were no sweet goodbyes or sappy I love yous. I just left.

Years ago, when my family story was aired on some podcast, I got

a letter in the mail from some woman, and she says in this

letter, I'm so sorry this happened to you, but please know

this is all a part of God's plan.

Luisa: What the

Gloria: The irony. You see, these folks obsessed with all

this true crime nonsense, they like it because it lets them

play god.

They get to bear witness to the horror you live through without

any of the consequences. And then they get to decide whether

or not you deserved to die. Pure entertainment. Anyway, I'm tired

of talking about wait. You didn't you aren't recording this

over your mom's tape, were you?

Luisa: Oh. Oh, no. No. No. No.

I put in a blank tape earlier.

Gloria: Oh, thank goodness. Wouldn't want you to lose that.

Luisa: Same.

Gloria: Hey. You didn't get to finish the story about your

rough night.

Luisa: Honestly, it's a lot of backstory. Like, I could

probably write my own memoir now.

Gloria: Well, give me the cliff notes.

Luisa: Okay. Well, long story short, I was given these tapes,

like, a month ago from this woman who knew my mother before

she died. And I'm sorry. My mom, she committed suicide a long

time ago. I mean, I was a baby.

So I was raised by my aunt, my mom's sister, and her husband,

my uncle. And these tapes, they're like my mom's audio

journal. And let's just say that my mom is showing me another

side of my family that I didn't know about.

Gloria: Don't beat around the bush.

Luisa: It sounds like my uncle may have been in love with my

mom or something. I grew up knowing nothing about my father,

so it's possible that my uncle who raised me, who's married to

my aunt, is my father. And that's just the tip of the

iceberg.

Gloria: Go on.

Luisa: I don't know if you know this, but Asians tend to shame

ourselves for literally anything, things that don't even

matter. And because of that, you can bet that we are definitely

not going to talk about anything remotely shameful or traumatic,

so we tend to be quite skilled at hiding from the truth and

hiding that truth from our loved ones. So I grew up not knowing

shit about my mom because, you know, shame. But now I have

these tapes, and they are giving me an opportunity to finally get

to know her.

Gloria: The real her?

Yes.

That's terrifying.

Luisa: Yes.

Gloria: How marvelous. It it's a rare gift, Luisa, to be able to

know someone on that level, good, bad, ugly, in this world

full of phonies.

Luisa: I spent so much of my life not knowing anything about

her life.

Gloria: That's not your fault.

Luisa: Maybe it is.

Gloria: Your aunt and uncle, they're still with us?

Luisa: Yeah.

Gloria: And they've got their faculties?

Luisa: Yeah.

Gloria: And functioning mouths?

Luisa: Yeah.

Gloria: Good. They can talk, so get them to.

Luisa: Right.

But how? What?

Gloria: You already know how to do that. Vulnerability. You're

good at it. Your vulnerability with me has encouraged me to be

vulnerable with you.

You know what you're doing.

Luisa: Siri, read my new text messages.

Siri: Okay. New message from Trey. Trey says, if you want

some company, I'd be down to watch the docuseries with you.

I'm a bit of a true crime nerd.

I know. I hate myself too. Would you like to reply?

Luisa: No.

Siri: Okay.

New message from Trey. Trey says, I hope that didn't come

off as creepy. Offering to come over. I swear I'm not a serial

killer. Death face emoji, knife emoji, would you like to reply?

Luisa: No.

Siri: Okay, new message from Reina. Reina says, Yo mama,

housewarming party is now on the twenty first at 6PM. Feel free

to bring the new boy toy. Would you like to reply?

Luisa: No.

Sherry: So this asshole says to me, how about you mind your

business? So I look up at him and say, "ET phone home." Man, I

never seen Deb laugh so hard. She was literally crying tears.

What?

The guy looked like a freaking alien. And to top things off, he

was dressed just like Marvin the Martian with this god awful red

and green ensemble. God. I'm so fucking tired of men. I think

I'm done.

For good.

Luisa: Why hello there.

Trey: Why I come bearing gifts.

Luisa: Oh, like?

Trey: Just the finest assortment of snacks from

Le Trader Josef's.

Luisa: Mhmm. Let me see. Buffalo chicken dip. Mhmm.

Kettle corn. Mango slices. You did well, young sir.

Trey: Oh I thought you would approve.

Luisa: Leave your shoes anywhere near the door.

Trey: This is a shoes off establishment?

Luisa: This is an Asian household. What do you think?

Trey: I think you'll think my feet stink and then never wanna

see me again.

Luisa: I think that's unlikely.

Trey: Don't say I didn't warn you.

Luisa: Oh my goodness. What is that stench?

Trey: Hey. Funny. Now I feel exposed.

Luisa: Exposed or free?

Trey: Oh, you've given me a lot to think about.

Luisa: Here. Let me give you the grand tour. There's not a whole

lot to see. So here's the living room slash dining room,

obviously. Sorry.

It's a bit of a mess.

Trey: Oh, nice gallery wall.

Luisa: Thanks. I'm rather proud of it myself. Hot tip for art,

Goodwill.

Trey: Goodwill, the place for good art.

Luisa: Uh-huh. And the kitchen. And the bathroom's right there.

Trey: A decent place.

Luisa: Yeah. Not too shabby.

Trey: Not at all.

Luisa: Oh, here. Let me take that.

Trey: Right.

So what are we watching?

Luisa: On the Linoleum Floor.

Trey: No way. I just queued that.

It's, like, one of the top trending shows right now.

Luisa: I tried giving it a watch, but I think I maybe made

it half hour in. It's a pretty gnarly story.

Trey: Well, it looks like it.

Luisa: FYI, I'm gonna have every single light on. I hope that

doesn't ruin your viewing experience.

Trey: It does ruin my viewing experience.

Luisa: Mhmm.

Trey: But if it helps you sleep at night.

Luisa: Thanks.

Trey: It's cool you're working on the memoir for this lady.

Luisa: Yeah. She's really cool, actually.

Trey: I hope you'll let me see an early draft. You still owe me

a poem.

Luisa: Oh, yes. The poem that I'm totally going to write for

you.

Trey: Uh-huh. I'm never gonna get that poem, am I?

Luisa: I wouldn't say never.

Trey: That's what I get for baring my soul to you.

Luisa: You're good at that.

Trey: What?

Luisa: Being open and vulnerable.

Trey: Fuck.

Luisa: What?

Trey: I said too much on our first date.

Luisa: No. No. No. No. No.

Not at all. I mean it. You're good at being open, and I like

that about you. Earlier today, Gloria, the subject of the

memoir and the docuseries, she told me that I'm good at being

vulnerable. And I was like, what?

Me? But then I thought about it, and she's right. When it comes

to my work, my writing, my freelance bullshit, I have no

problem being vulnerable. I'm an open book.

Trey: Pun intended?

Luisa: Of course. But when it comes to the things that

actually matter, the people that actually matter, I struggle.

Trey: I get it. You know? As someone who speaks from

experience, it's a process. I think what helped me the most

was trying to understand why I was being so guarded. Like,

what's the underlying reason?

You know?

Luisa: Yeah.

Trey: This is gonna sound like some cheesy inspirational

poster, but you just gotta take it one day at a time, one

conversation at a time, one moment at a time.

Luisa: You're right.

That does sound like a cheesy inspirational poster.

Trey: I've got that one hung up in my gallery wall.

Luisa: Do you also have a sign that says live, laugh, love?

Trey: Absolutely.

Luisa: Wise words.

Trey: Yes. I got the live and the laugh part down.

Luisa: But not the love?

Trey: Not quite.

Luisa: Oh.

Trey: But I'm hopeful.

Luisa: Same.

Pass me the buffalo dip?

Trey: Yes, ma'am.

Luisa: Okay. Shall we?

Trey: Yes, ma'am.

Luisa: Hey. By the way, Trey, thank you.

Trey: No thanks needed. I was gonna watch this anyway.

Luisa: No. No. Not about watching the show. I mean, yes,

that too. But, I mean, thank you for your advice.

Trey: You're welcome. Are you just stalling?

Luisa: Yeah. I can do this. Right?

Trey: I believe in you. Okay.

Luisa: Let's do this.

911 Operator: 911, what's your emergency?

Neighbor: Oh God, hi, I need help. There's a woman on my

lawn, an African American woman. She's covered in blood, she's

not moving.

911 Operator: What's your location ma'am?

Neighbor: 1414 Pine Street.

911 Operator: Is she conscious?

Neighbor: I don't know. I mean, I saw her and then I ran back in

to call. I think she's

911 Operator: I'm dispatching an ambulance.

Neighbor: I think she might be from a house across the street.

There's an African American family who lives across the

street and their front door is wide open. Oh please, get

someone here.

911 Operator: I'm dispatching emergency services ma'am. Is she

still outside?

Neighbor: Yes.

911 Operator: Can you tell me what her injuries are?

Neighbor: Well I don't know. I mean she had all this blood

coming out of her. Oh my God.

911 Operator: Ma'am, can you go back and check her pulse for me?

Neighbor: I'm not going back out there.

911 Operator: Is it unsafe?

Neighbor: I'm not going back out there.

911 Operator: Ma'am, if she's still conscious.

Neighbor: Damn it. Jesus. Okay. Shit. Shit.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Dear lord. Shit.

911 Operator: Ma'am.

Neighbor: Okay. Oh, you there?

911 Operator: Yes-

Neighbor: Oh God.

911 Operator: Ma'am, did you get a pulse?

Neighbor: I Is she There's cuts all over her body.

Her throat, her arms, her chest. Oh God, oh God. She's dead.

She's dead. Oh Lord Jesus, she's dead.

911 Operator: Ma'am, take a deep breath. I have emergency

services on the way.

Neighbor: She's dead. Do you hear me? Oh, God.

No. No. No. No.

Trey: You sure you're gonna be alright?

Luisa: No. Oh. But thank you for doing this with me.

Trey: Thank you for having me. It was fun. I should

Luisa: Oh, yeah. Those are some nice kicks, by the way.

Trey: Oh, thank you. I'm a bit of a sneakerhead.

Luisa: I see that.

Trey: You know, you can always call or text me if you're

feeling spooked.

Luisa: Be careful. I have no shame taking people up on their

offers.

Trey: Well, I mean it.

Luisa: I know.

Trey: Would you wanna hang out again?

Luisa: Yes. I would love that.

Trey: Yeah. Cool. Great. I'll I will we'll talk and stuff.

Luisa: Drive safe.

Mhmm.

Trey: You too. Yes. Will do.

Luisa: Please, brain. Just let me go to sleep. 2:23... Fuck me.

Fuck.

Sherry: Remember being in awe too... The first time I went to

Joshua Tree... We get back to the motel and we get the babies

ready for bed... Those fucking shitheads... It just takes a few

assholes to ruin everything... Huh? [Sherry hums a lullaby]

Luisa: [crying] Good night, mom.

What? Closed? Okay.

Jim: You've reached the voicemail of James Helman.

Please leave your message after the tone.

Luisa: Hey, uncle. I'm just here at the shop, and it looks like

you're closed. No one's here. Is everything okay? I I wanted to

stop by and talk.

I'm sorry about the other night. I'm just I have a lot of

questions about everything, and I really need some answers. I

know it's not easy for you or auntie to talk about her, but I

need you two. I've needed you two for decades. So if there is

anything that might be holding you back, please know I won't

judge you or think differently of you or love you any less.

Okay? I'll talk to you later. Love you uncle.

Sherry: I'm running late to class, but I just had to

document this. I'm pretty sure my Babalu said, mama, today. I

put her down in her playpen for a second, and when I stepped

away, I heard a little, mama. I came back around the corner, and

she was just smiling at me like she knew what she had done too.

Shit.

I gotta go. Earlier today, I put Babalu down for a nap so I could

get some homework done. But maybe thirty minutes later, I

hear this faint giggle coming from the bedroom. So I peek in,

and there's Luisa standing up in her crib facing the wall,

laughing her little head off. I said, Babalu, what you laughing

at?

And she just kept staring at that wall, giggling. So I walk

up right next to her crib to see what she's looking at, and of

course, there's nothing there. Just the wall. But she was

looking at something. Her eyes were locked on whatever it was,

and it was making her hysterical.

So I said, Babalu, who's there? And it was like she finally

heard me, and she smiled and turned to me. But then she

turned back to the wall, quiet. Her little eyes were looking all

over the room as if she was trying to find something,

someone. I picked her up and she tugged at me as if to say, mama,

let's go look.

So we go around the apartment, and she was so focused on trying

to find whatever, whoever it was that she saw. I walked her all

over the apartment, and she just looked up at me like, where did

they go? Funny enough, my baby girl suddenly made me feel like

I was sane. She's sensing it too. The last few weeks, I

haven't felt right.

I mean, when do I ever feel right? But I don't know. I'm,

like, hearing things, but it's, like, in my head, but not in my

head. I'm making no sense. Just something feels off.

I feel off. Maybe I'm losing my mind. It does run-in the family.

Maybe it's these sleeping pills fucking with my mind.

Hello?

Someone there? Were your ears burning? Do you wanna give me a

sign that you're here? No? Okay.

Maybe I am losing my mind. Where is my mind? Where is my mind?

Where is my mind? Maybe she knew, and that's why she left.

Not because of the war.

Luisa: War?

Sherry: Because she knew that she couldn't do it. Even after

everything he gave up to stay here and be with her, she just

left him and left me. Maybe because she knew that he was

broken, that both of us were broken, broken beyond repair.

I get it. Watching him suffer day after day was absolute

torture. I know he didn't want me to see him like that. I

wouldn't want Luisa to see me like that, but I wouldn't let

her. Nope.

I'll be dead before I ever let that happen to Babalu.

Narrator: Babalu was created, written, and produced by me,

Kimberly Truong. Directed by Katharine Chen Lerner. Sound

design, editing, and mixing by Charles Moody. With performances

by Christine Liao, Jaxy Boyd, Circus-Szalewski, Lee Chen, Ruby

Marez, Greg Smith, Mark Morante, Melissa Bickerton, Rishi Arya,

Julianne Kolb, Emily Bolt, Jackie Aubel, Stephanie Orlando,

Katharine Chen Lerner, a very good boy named

Gus, and Kimberly Truong. Theme music by Edith

Mari Meyer, Peter Byrnes, Victoria LaVilla, Brandon

Beardsley, Hillary and the boys, Katie McCuen, and our incredible

Kickstarter backers. Babalu is a production of Uneasy Tiger. For

more info or to support this series, follow @UneasyTiger on

Instagram or TikTok or visit uneasytiger.com.

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal

thoughts, please dial 988 or visit 988lifeline.org for

resources and support.