Unwell Season 2/Episode 12- The Broken Moat

by Jessica Wright Buha

An invitation//a request//a plea
Thanksgiving is just the one day
This is my house.

----

Content Advisories for this episode can be found below.

Support Unwell and HartLife NFP on Patreon at www.patreon.com/hartlifenfp

This episode features: Clarisa Cherie Rios as Lily, Marsha Harman as Dot, Kathleen Hoil as Abbie, Joshua K. Harris as Rudy, LaQuin Groves as Dale, and Mark Soloff as [REDACTED].

Written by Jessica Wright Buha, sound design by Ryan Schile, directed by Jeffrey Nils Gardner, music composed by Stephen Poon, recording engineer Mel Ruder, Theme performed by Stephen Poon, Lauren Kelly, Gunnar Jebsen, Travis Elfers, Mel Ruder, and Betsey Palmer, Unwell lead sound designer Ryan Schile, Executive Producers Eleanor Hyde and Jeffrey Nils Gardner, by HartLife NFP.

This episode contains:

-Jump scares
-Supernatural horror
-Yelling
-Difficult Thanksgivings
-Alcohol

SCENE 1.
OUTSIDE OF THE BOARDING HOUSE.
MICROPHONE JACKS AND XLR CABLES
CLICK INTO PLACE. DIALS TURN.
FEEDBACK, THEN NOTHING.

LILY: Okay, so this one goes into this one, and then that one,

DOT: No, no, NO LILIAN that’s output.

LILY: WE WANT OUTPUT

DOT: No, you want input. Wait—what does that say,

LILY: Mom, I’m telling you, the blue one goes to output, / and
the striped one—

DOT: I need my glasses. Christ, they make the words tiny.

LILY: The striped one goes—

DOT: “AUX-IN.” What the fuck.

LILY: Lemme just try something, okay!

DOT: Fine.

PLUGS CLICK INTO OUTLETS.

LILY: This one goes here, this goes here, then you flip that switch
and...

DOT: Test. Test. Testing

NOTHING.

LILY: Is the volume up?

DOT: Yes, the volume’s up. Who the fuck knows how to do
this—where’s Marisol.

LILY: Indianapolis.

DOT: What the fuck is she doing / in Indianapolis.

LILY: Her sister lives there. HER FAMILY, MOM!

DOT: BUT FOR A WHOLE WEEK.

LILY: Some people like their family.

DOT: Why’s everything gone to shit.

BIRDS SING. WIND RUSTLES THE FOREST
LEAVES. FEEDBACK AS A MIC IS DROPPED.

LILY: Okay. I am just going to turn everything off—

A SWITCH FLIPS. EVERYTHING TURNS OFF.

LILY: and back on again.

A SWITCH FLIPS ON. A PROMISING HUM.

LILY [cont’d]: Try it now.

DOT’S VOICE BOOMS THROUGH A
MICROPHONE.

DOT: TEST ONE-TWO.
Works! Here we go.

DOT CLEARS HER THROAT.

LILY: Mom, I really don’t think volume is the problem.

DOT: (into the microphone) WES. WES, CAN YOU HEAR ME.

PHONE RINGS.

LILY: I gotta take this.

DOT: WES!

LILY: (into phone) Hey!

DOT: WES, IT’S DOTTIE. DON’T WORRY. WE WILL FIND
YOU.


DALE: (D) Hey,

LILY: Sorry, lemme get somewhere quieter.

FOOTSTEPS THROUGH THE CEMETERY
TOWARDS THE WOODS.

DOT: (D) WES, FOLLOW THE SOUND OF MY VOICE.

DALE: (D) What’s going on over there.

LILY: Ah, it’s a little complicated. How’re you?

DALE: (D) I’m fine. Alright, enough pleasantries. Let’s talk
turkey.

DOT’S VOICE FADES AS LILY MOVES
DEEPER INTO THE WOODS.

LILY: Dad bringing the Dad jokes.

DALE: (D) Always, Lilybelle. Always every day. You coming
up Tuesday or Wednesday? I know you always do
Wednesday, but maybe an extra day wouldn’t be so bad.

LILY: Oh, Dad, I don’t think I can.

DALE: (D) All right, Wednesday’s fine. Gotta at least ask.

LILY: No, I think I’m gonna stay down here.

DALE: (D) Oh.

LILY: I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you earlier

DALE: (D) Who’s making the macaroni.

LILY: You do it.

LILY HAS ENTERED THE WOODS. LEAVES
CRUNCH UNDERFOOT. BIRDS SING.

DALE: (D) I can’t do your macaroni. It’s a secret recipe.

LILY: I’ll text it to you.

DALE: (D) Why don’t you just come up Wednesday night. You
can be back by Friday.

LILY: That’s the whole—Thanksgiving is just the one day, I
mean, I miss it, I miss everything.

DALE: (D) Right.
Okay.

LILY: I’ll call you.
DALE: (D) Yeah, you think? You’ll call me. You better call me at
six AM and not hang up til midnight.

LILY: Why don’t you come down here? Both of you, of course.
Mama C would be more than welcome.

DALE: (D) No. Maybe I’ll see what Cindy’s folks are up to.

LILY: (D) What? Why? Just go to Aunt Tanya’s!

DALE: No.

LILY: (D) Why not? What’s she going to say if you don’t show
up?

DALE: What’s she going to say if I do show up, me, empty-handed
on her doorstep (as Aunt Tanya) “where’s Lilybelle?
Where’s her macaroni!” What am I gonna tell her.

LILY: Say I’m with my mom. And that I gave you the recipe, but
you refused to make it.

DALE GIVES A QUIET SIGH.

DALE: Shoot.

LILY: Sorry.

DALE: All right. If this is what you want to do. You coming home
for Christmas?

LILY: Of course.

DALE: Good. I love you.

LILY: Love you, too.

DALE: Okay. Call soon.

LILY: I will. Bye.

DALE: Bye.

BEEP OF PHONE HANGING UP.

LILY: Okay. Okay.

LEAVES CRUNCHING UNDERFOOT.
PERSIMMON STEMS SNAPPING.
PERSIMMONS GOING INTO A PAIL.

LILY: Hey!

OLD MAN: Afternoon, Lilian.

LILY: What are those, berries? No. What are those?

OLD MAN: They are persimmons—

PERSIMMON STEMS SNAP.

—to be used in making brandy.

LILY: What! You make it yourself?

OLD MAN: I do, and it is divine.

LILY: I mean, I do love brandy.

OLD MAN: Why not assist me? Those who help with the harvest will
share in the bounty.

LILY: Okay.

DOT: (off) WES!

OLD MAN: Everything all right at the homestead?

LILY: Oh, yes, well, no. We lost a friend.

OLD MAN: I’m sorry for your loss.

LILY: Oh, he was already dead. But my mom thinks he’s literally,
like, lost in the woods. He’s not lost, He’s just a) sixteen, b)
suddenly found out he’s a ghost, and c) suddenly needs a
little space. Not weird.

OLD MAN: He found out.

LILY: Yeah. He thought he was alive.

DOT: (off) Wes, please.

LILY: You haven’t seen a kid wandering around the woods, have
you? He’s black, about sixteen years old, five foot—I don’t
know, eight? Named Theodore Wesley? Goes by Wes?

OLD MAN: I have not.

DOT: (off) WES!

LILY: What is he running from?

OLD MAN: What are any of us running from?

LILY: The truth?

OLD MAN: But the wonderful thing about truth, it is persistent. Like
water against rock. One day, the truth will come out. As it
did for young Wes.

THEY PICK PERSIMMONS IN SILENCE.

That seems like enough. I hope, when the brandy is ready,
that we will toast to new beginnings. That’s why you came
to Mount Absalom, is it not?

LILY: I came to help my mom.

OLD MAN: You came quickly. Must have been an easy life to leave.

LILY: I guess so.

OLD MAN: To new beginnings.

LILY: Yeah.

OLD MAN: Yes.

May it be a fine new beginning indeed.

LILY: And now we clink imaginary glasses, and drink imaginary
drinks. Mmm.

OLD MAN LAUGHS A LIGHT AND EASY LAUGH.

OLD MAN: Scrumptious.

Thank you for helping me with my persimmons.

LILY: Of course. You’re gonna have a lot of brandy.

OLD MAN: I bottle enough to share, and then pray that the friends will
follow. Hope springs eternal.

LILY: Hey, do you have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving?

OLD MAN: No.

LILY: Why don’t you come to the boarding house? It’ll be fun.

OLD MAN: You’d have me as a guest?

LILY: Sure! I’ll also feed you. You in?

OLD MAN: ‘Twould be an honor and a delight.

Well, the brandy cask awaits. A pleasant afternoon to you,
Ms. Harper.

LILY: And to you.

OLD MAN’S FOOTSTEPS FADE INTO THE HUM
OF THE FOREST.

SCENE 2.
SEVEN AM ON THANKSGIVING MORNING.
LILY’S BEDROOM. DOT ENTERS.

DOT: Lily, turkey.

LILY: What time is it?

DOT: It’s get that turkey in the fuckin oven time. Up and at ‘em.
Let’s grab Thanksgiving by the balls.

LILY GETS OUT OF BED AND SHUFFLES
DOWNSTAIRS. HER PHONE RINGS,
UNHEARD.

SCENE 3.

BOARDING HOUSE KITCHEN. CAT CLOCK
CHIMES TWO O’ CLOCK. LILY AND DOT

BUSTLE ABOUT. GENERAL PRE-
THANKSGIVING KITCHEN HUBBUB.

DOT: Shit, we’re never gonna get all this done.

LILY: We will, we will.

DOT: I gotta chop the carrots. Gimme the good knife.

LILY: Which...what?

DOT: It’s next to the you know.

LILY: The what.

DOT: The fountain.

LILY: The SINK?

DOT: You know I mean the sink. I’ll get it myself.

STEPS TO THE SINK. SHINE OF A KNIFE
BEING PICKED UP.

LILY: Mom. Just breathe.

DOT: Next year, we’re spending the extra dollar and buying the
baby carrots.

LILY: Don’t get nervous. The words are there.

DOT: I’m not nervous, and the words are not there.

LILY: If you’re nervous, things get more tangled up.

DOT: Things are tangled up. They are. They just are.
I can’t make it better by breathing. I’m losing words.

LILY: (pointing) What is that?

DOT: A sink.

LILY: See? You remembered.

DOT: I guess I’m cured.

SCENE 4.
BOARDING HOUSE KITCHEN. LOTS OF
FOOTSTEPS, POTATOES BOILING IN WATER,
HEIGHTENED PRE-THANKSGIVING
KITCHEN HUBBUB. CAT CLOCK MEOWING
THE TIME: FOUR PM.

LILY: AHH!

DOT: LILY USE A POTHOLDER.

LILY: Shit, ah, that’s hot. shake it off.

FOOTSTEPS AS ABBIE COMES IN.

ABBIE: Ummm, excuse me?

PHONE TIMER GOES OFF.

LILY: Abbie, don’t tell me you need this kitchen.

DOT: What’s that for.

ABBIE: Can I just fill the coffee pot?

LILY: LATER.

DOT: What’s the timer for!?

LILY: Gotta start the potatoes. Ah, we didn’t tent the bird, tent the
bird...

DOT: What does that / mean.

LILY: Gonna have a dried out bird, shit, lemme pull it out. You
have to put foil over the turkey to prevent it from drying
out.

DOT: Why is this such a pain in the asshole to make.

ABBIE: You do know there’s only four people coming.

OVEN OPENING. HEAVY TURKEY BEING
PULLED OUT AND PLOPPED DOWN.

LILY: MOM START PEELING POTATOES.

METAL CRINKLE OF TINFOIL BEING
UNROLLED AND RIPPED OFF.

LILY: Tentinggggg

RUSTLE OF ALUMINUM FOIL

and back in you go...

OVER DOOR SLAMS. FOOTSTEPS IN.

RUDY: Greetings!

DOT: Hey, Rudy! (shouting into the ether) Hey, Norah!

RUDY: Oh, Norah sends her regrets.

DOT: Aww.

ABBIE: Can coffee happen now.

LILY: Sure.

RUDY: Abbie! How’s the foot?

ABBIE: Fine.

THE COLD SILENCE CUTS THROUGH THE
BUSTLING KITCHEN NOISES.

LILY: Rudy, why don’t you slice up some cheese for the apps.


SCENE 5.
BOARDING HOUSE DINING ROOM: 5 PM.
DINNER IS SERVED. EVERYONE GATHERS
AT THE TABLE.

DOT: Everything here? Did I forget something in the oven. No.
Everyone got a drink? We ready to go?

RUDY: We’re ready.

TAP TAP TAP OF GLASS.

DOT: Okay, so I’d like to give a toast, to kick things off here.
I would like to give thanks for all of you. But mostly for
my daughter, Lilian. First thanksgiving together in 24
years! Hope it’s okay.

LILY: It’s great.

DOT: To family. And friends who are like family because anyone
who knows the color of your toothpaste and the grossness
of your dirty socks is, you know, basically, family, so,

DOT [cont’d]: cheers.

All right! Dig in, punks.

CLINKING OF FORKS AGAINST PLATES.
FOOD GETTING PILED ONTO PLATES.
CHEWING, ETC NOISES.

RUDY: Mm! The macaroni and cheese is stunning.

LILY: Thanks!

ABBIE: Going have a lot of leftover turkey.

DOT: That’s like saying there’s leftover whiskey. No such thing.
How’s the tofu.

ABBIE: It’s really good.

LILY: Mom, you want / a drink?

DOT: Hey, who’re we missing—oh, someone set out a plate for
Wes?

LILY: No, that’s for my—[friend.]

DOT: Ah, that’s sweet. Ah, I’m gonna cry.

SOMEONE KNOCKS AT THE FRONT DOOR.

RUDY: WES?

DOT: He’d never knock.

LILY: I think that’s my friend.

DOT: Who? Marisol. / You can just say my lover Marisol.

LILY: No, she’s at her sister’s. Mom, she’s at her sister’s. I told
you I was bringing a friend.

ABBIE: Who?

DOT: I thought you meant Marisol.

ABBIE: WHO’S YOUR FRIEND.

LILY: Guy in the woods.

DOT: What the fuck.

ABBIE: GUY IN THE WOODS.

LILY: Less creepy than it sounds. We picked persimmons
together the other day.

RUDY: When he walks, does he make noise.

LILY: Uh, yes.

RUDY: Footsteps?

LILY: YES. There’s nothing about him that’s weird or ghostlike.
You all met him on Halloween. Old white guy, dresses in
black...

DOT: Bright white hair, like icy-white.

LILY: Sure.

DOT: Well, if he made it onto the property, it’s too late. We’re all
fucked.

LILY: What are you talking about? He was here on Halloween.

DOT: The rules are weird on Halloween. If he’s here in
November, something’s wrong. I... I forgot. I must have
forgotten.

MORE KNOCKING AT THE FRONT DOOR.
LILY’S CHAIR SCRAPES AS SHE PUSHES IT
AWAY FROM THE TABLE.

LILY: I’m letting him in.

DOT: LILY SIT DOWN.

LILY: Why.

DOT: He’s evil.

ABBIE: There’s no such thing as evil.

DOT: Just like there’s no such thing as ghosts.

ABBIE: Ghosts? Maybe. EVIL ghosts? No.

LILY: He’s not evil. He helped us when Spikes went through the
door.

RUDY: Quick way to gain your trust. Also gave him a chance to
scope out the place.

EVEN MORE KNOCKING AT THE FRONT
DOOR.

DOT: Don’t you take one step towards that door.

LILY: He is just a normal, nice old man who doesn’t have
anywhere to go for Thanksgiving and would it KILL US
TO DO ONE NICE THING ONCE. In the spirit of
Thanksgiving.

ABBIE: You mean trusting people who have not earned our trust
and will let us down in the worst possible way imaginable?
That spirit of Thanksgiving?

LILY: Fair. I’ll be careful.

DOT: Please don’t answer the door.

LILY: Why?

DOT: Because I asked you not to.

LILY: Tell me why, or I’m answering.

DOT: Jesus, Lily, what else do you have to know except that he’s
evil? For once in your life, just trust me!

LILY: Why don’t you try trusting me?

DOT: I have been nothing but / open and honest with you.

LILY: Then tell me the truth!

DOT: What truth? I don’t know the “truth.” Jesus. I don’t know
why the weird stuff happens!

LILY: I think he does. So let’s all find out together.

LILY WALKS TO THE FRONT DOOR.

RUDY: Should we stop her.

DOT: Too late. If he’s crossed the moat, he’s crossed the moat.
I’ll draw it again on the Solstice. Have to hang on til then.

FRONT DOOR OPENS.

LILY: (off) Hi, welcome! Come on in.

DOT: At least he knocked.

LILY: (off) What’s that?

OLD MAN: (off) I brought a bottle of last year’s vintage.

LILY: (off) Oooh!


DOT: No one drink that.

SILAS: (off) I thought you’d like to try some.

LILY: (off) Sure.

LILY AND THE OLD MAN ENTER THE DINING ROOM.

OLD MAN: Oh, the party is already seated. Sorry to disturb you all.

LILY: Look what I got, friends! Persimmon brandy.

RUDY: Ah!

OLD MAN: It’s a local specialty.

RUDY: Mount Absalom. Come for the ghosts, stay for the produce
spirits.

OLD MAN: Who would like a taste?

LILY: Lemme get some glasses. Mom, we got something in the
sideboard?
Mom?

DOT: I know who you are.

OLD MAN: Oh?

DOT: And you’re not supposed to be here.

OLD MAN: This glass will do. A communal cup.

BOTTLE IS UNCORKED. GLUG-GLUG AS IT’S
POURED.

OLD MAN: And who am I, exactly.

DOT: Evil incarnate. Which I guess looks like an old white guy.
Go figure.

OLD MAN: I am not evil incarnate.

DOT: Oh, really. Then you are...

OLD MAN: Just a man looking for some hospitality.

ABBIE: She means what’s your name.

OLD MAN/SILAS: My name is Silas. Reverend Lodge, if we’re being formal.
But we’re among friends, so please, Silas.

ABBIE: Same as the town founder.

SILAS/OLD MAN: Yes, that’s right.

ABBIE: Is that you.

SILAS/OLD MAN: Yes. Goodness, that was many years ago.


DOT: What the fuck.

RUDY: When was the town founded?

ABBIE: 1796.

RUDY: Oh my.

DOT: But you’re evil.

ABBIE: THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS EVIL.

SILAS: Quite right, my friend. There is only respect and the lack of
it.

ABBIE: I’ll try the brandy.

RUDY: Abbie.

SILAS: Wonderful. Picked after last year’s frost, aged in casks
hewn by my own hands, distilled by the light of a full
moon...

ABBIE: It’s good.

DOT: Pass it over, Abbie, lemme try a taste.

DOT POURS THE BRANDY ONTO THE
FLOOR.

DOT: Mmm. So good. Says the floor.

SILAS: Your disrespect sickens me.

DOT: Yeah, that brandy woulda gotten me sick, too, so we’re
even.

SILAS: How dare you laugh. How dare you joke when the
boundaries have fallen due to your negligence.

DOT: Hey, my fuckup meant you got the chance to have Lily’s
Famous Macaroni. So, you’re welcome.

SILAS: You have left him completely unprotected.

DOT: First of all, I was guarding the town against YOU. So, I
guess, nice that you feel guilty about breaking in, but
whatever.

SILAS: You think this is about the town?

DOT: And you’re not so fucking scary. The way Grant talked
about you, I was like, “whoa, I better watch out. Water
those stones. Yep.”

Ah, I shouldn’t have bothered.

SILAS: Are you all that stands between him and destruction? /
Perish the thought!

LILY: Hey. HEY. Who’s he?

DOT: What?

LILY: Who’s the “He” you’re protecting.

DOT: The town.

SILAS: Did you forget, or did they never tell you.

DOT: What the fuck’re you talking about?

SILAS: Ah, but who would tell a mayfly the truth. Here one day,
dead the next. Why take the trouble?

DOT: All right, enough. Yes, I forgot ONCE to sprinkle some
water on a rock. You’re right, and I’m wrong. There.
Happy?

SILAS: Hear me, Dorothy Harper. You laugh at the rituals,
therefore you laugh at him. I can forgive anything but
disrespect. It is only just that you suffer the consequences.

DOT: Fuck you.

SILAS: Step aside. There are others willing to care for this sacred
place, and you have proven yourself incapable.

DOT: Out of my fucking house.

SILAS: Now, now. I am offering to help you, and you slap my
hand away. A shame.


DOT: Oh, you talk like you’re a big fucking deal. I said Get out.

SILAS: You refuse to step aside, despite your incompetence,
despite the signs pointing to one thing: that a change is
nigh? Well. Perhaps you lack proper encouragement.

DOT: You want to try something? Try it.

RADIATORS START TO CLANK.

I dare you. Try it, I dare you. Go on, Mr. Big Stuff. Mr.
Big Scary Man.

RADIATORS START TO CLANK MORE. MORE
HISSING.

Tell me to leave MY HOUSE? No. Now shut up and leave.

THE RADIATORS ARE DEAFENING. THEY
ARE SCREAMING.

SILAS: All right.

THE RADIATORS SUBSIDE

SILAS: I apologize. Perhaps it’d be best if I take my leave. Lilian,
let’s continue our conversation in my neck of the woods.

LILY: What conversation?

SILAS: The one concerning the whereabouts of young Theodore
Wesley. And Lilian, if the door appears, try to walk
through it. Perhaps he wants to meet you.

LILY: Who is he.

SILAS: The One who Blooms.

Evening.

SILAS LEAVES. FRONT DOOR SLAMS. HIS
FOOTSTEPS FADE. DOT COLLAPSES INTO
TEARS.

DOT: Oh, goddammit. Oh, I’m really losing it. Fuck. I can’t keep
you safe.
Lily.

LILY: Mom, it’s okay.

HUGS. TEARS.

DOT: Sorry.

LILY: No, don’t apologize.

Hey, who is the One who / Blooms?

DOT: I don’t know. I don’t know anything except how to fuck
things up.

I just want to keep everyone safe. Fuck. And it’s just me.
There’s no one else.

LILY: I’ll help.

DOT: NO. No.

This is not the life I want for you. I never felt trapped—this
was my home. But you—[don’t want to stay.]
You don’t need to clean up my messes. I can handle it.
It’s... what day is it. It’s only a month til the solstice, then
I’ll redraw the moat, then things will be fine.

ABBIE: What do we do until then.

DOT: Eat. Food’s getting cold. Oh, I wanted to—there was
something I wanted to do. Pass me that plate.

SCRAPE AND PLOP AS DOT PILES FOOD ON
A PLATE.

RUDY: Forgot to fulfil another ancient ritual?

DOT: No, asshats. Eat your food. Lily, gimme the gravy.

CLINK OF GRAVY BOAT GETTING PASSED.
THICK GLUG OF POURING GRAVY.

RUDY: Yes, the ritual must have more gravy.

DOT: Eat up, folks. It’s getting cold.

DOT LEAVES.

SCENE 6.
FOOTSTEPS ON DEW-DAMPENED GRASS.
NIGHT SOUNDS. CEMETERY SOUNDS.
CLICK OF A PLATE BEING SET ON A STONE.


DOT: Hey, darlin’.

I don’t know if you’re in your grave or out of your grave or
what, but I just hope you’re not somewhere hungry and I
hope you’re spending Thanksgiving with people you love.
I fixed you a plate. Gave you extra mac and cheese.
It is so good. Lily made it. It’s creamy but also there’s this
crispy, like, caramelized bit on top. I’m just going to put
it right here.
We love you so much, Wes.
Fight your way back, okay, sweetie?

END MUSIC, CREDITS.

POST-CREDITS: According to official town records, the Reverend Silas Lodge died attempting to
save people from the very fires that gave the Burning Wood its name. However, files in Hazel
Gibbons’ “special collection” contradict these records both in what Reverend Lodge was doing
in the woods and that he ever died.