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 to. I've needed you to 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 Mudge.
Additional music by Manish Ayachit. Studio recording by
Parker Silzer and David Stern. Artwork by Gabi Hawkins. Logo
by Alex Bruno. A very special thank you to Liesl Lafferty and
the Firecracker Department.
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 Uneasy Tiger 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.