Sisters, Fathers, Monsters

"What are the chances?"

Content warning: This series addresses sensitive topics such as self-harm and suicide. If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please visit 988lifeline.org for resources and support. You are not alone.

Created, written, and produced by Kimberly Truong. Directed by Katharine Chen Lerner. Sound design, editing and mixing by Charles Moody.

With performances by: Christine Liao, Jaxy Boyd, Circus-Szalewski, Greg Smith, Varda Appleton, Chriselle Almeida, James III, Malia Macabeo, Kiera Nusbaum, and Kimberly Truong.

Series theme music by Edith Mudge. Additional music by Manish Ayachit and Bernard Yin.

>>> Listen to this episode's companion mixtape playlist on Spotify <<<

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Many thanks to Liesl Lafferty and the Firecracker Department for their script notes and support.

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Creators and Guests

Producer

Kimberly Truong

Executive Producer & Writer, Uneasy Tiger

What is Babalu?

Sherry Zhang committed suicide in 1989. When she died, she left behind a baby daughter and unbeknownst to her family, dozens of cassette tapes recording her innermost thoughts. Years later, Luisa, the child Sherry left behind, learns about these tapes and decides to finally get to know the mother she lost through her own words. But the more she listens, the more questions she has.

*Official Selection 2023 Rhode Island International Film Festival*

Opening Narrator: The following
series addresses sensitive

topics including self harm and
suicide. Listener discretion is

advised.

Uneasy Tiger Intro: Uneasy
Tiger.

Sherry: But that's what happens
when you get entangled with a

married man. More regret. Maybe
that's the underlying meaning of

that song, that everything, no
matter how awful, has to happen

so you can be right where you're
at now. I'm the mother to a

spunky, brilliant baby girl. How
could I regret that?

Luisa: Shit. Who's...

Oh, uncle. I'll call you back.

Sherry: I don't know if I
believe in fate, but sometimes I

feel like my life isn't mine.
Like, I'm in one of those toy

cars you put on a track, and my
only option is to stay the

course. No matter how much I
jerk the wheel, I always wind up

back on this path.

Whoa...

This is weird. I'm feeling deja
vu as we speak. I've been

feeling a lot of deja vu lately,
mostly when I'm doing something

mundane, but I was feeling this
intense deja vu the other day

with Deb. I swear I felt it, and
the next thing I knew, I

predicted what she was about to
say. And then and then she said

it.

Weird. Jesus, maybe I have been
here before. Debra told me that

I'm the annoying little sister
she's always wanted. Little? I'm

eight months younger than her.

Wise ass.

Luisa: Mom...

Sherry: Debra does feel like a
big sis, though, or at least

what I thought a big sis would
be. God. Patti's face when I

told her that I was pregnant and
the whole situation, She gave me

that look.

I hate that look. But maybe I
deserve it. To my surprise, Jim

told Patti that it wasn't
anything she

need- [Babalu cries]

Mama's coming.

Jim: Sweetheart, it's uncle. You
know, your uncle Jim or you

might know me as my formal name,
James Hillman. Oh, not to be

confused with the famous
psychologist, James Hillman.

Just just your uncle Jim. The
one used to call and talk to,

visit.

Well, haven't

heard from my girl in a while
and I was just sitting here

wondering if you still like that
Sensodyne toothpaste. I I had a

$2 off coupon here with your
name on it. Okay. Oh, auntie

says we're going to dinner soon.
That'll be nice.

Alrighty. Bye bye.

Dad on Elevator: Hold the
elevator, please. Thank you.

Daughter on Elevator: Daddy, we
almost missed the elevator.

Dad on Elevator: I know, hon.

Luisa: Floor?

Dad on Elevator: Oh, 10, please.
Thank you.

Daughter on Elevator: I can
count to 10. I can count to 100.

Dad on Elevator: I know you can
because you're so smart.

Daughter on Elevator: Can I show
you?

Dad on Elevator: Yes. But
quietly.

Daughter on Elevator: Okay?
Okay. Miss, I can count to 100.

Luisa: You can?

Daughter on Elevator: Yeah.

My dad taught me.

Luisa: That's wonderful.

Daughter on Elevator: Can I show
you?

Luisa: Oh, next time?

Daughter on Elevator: Yeah. Next
time.

Dad on Elevator: Have a good
one.

Luisa: You too.

Daughter on Elevator: Daddy,
count with

me. One.

Dad on Elevator: Two.

Simone: No.

No. No. No. Yeah. I bet he does.

Come in. Sorry. Almost done.
Look, Val. I can whip up some

magic, but I can't work
miracles.

Michael's a good writer, but
he's not Stephen King. Okay?

Uh-huh. Yeah. You can absolutely
tell him I said that.

Simone: Okay. Okay. Uh-huh. Bye.
I'm so sorry, Luisa.

This writer, let's just say he's
a PITA: pain in the a--

Luisa: Yeah. I can imagine.

Simone: Men. Am I right? Yeah.
Anyway, back to you. Contracts

all signed.

Luisa: Yep. All done.

Simone: Are you so excited?

Luisa: I'm so excited.

Simone: Luisa, you ready to
write a bestseller?

Luisa: I'm ready to write.
Whether or not it's a bestseller

is up to the universe.

Simone: It's a bestseller, my
friend. Trust me. You trust me?

Luisa: I trust you.

Simone: Good. I would never
steer you wrong. Now did you

have a chance to read the brief
about Gloria?

Luisa: Yes. Oh my god. What a
tragic and courageous woman. I

I'm I'm so honored to be able

to work on this.

Simone: Oh, it's so sad. That's
why it's gonna be a bestseller.

I'm gonna have a courier drop
off all the notes and research

and whatnot that we have left
over from our previous writers,

which you

can take or leave.

Luisa: Oh, previous writers?

Simone: Oh, we've had a couple
writers come and go on this

project. They weren't the right
fit. You know?

Luisa: Sure.

Simone: But that's okay because
we learned from that, and now we

have you. Yay!

Luisa: Yay.

Simone: Like I said, Gloria is a
force to be reckoned with. I

mean, of course, she is. She
survived the massacre of her own

family for god's sake.

Luisa: Right.

Simone: But I don't doubt for
one second that you are the

person for this project. Third
time's a charm. Right?

Luisa: Right.

Simone: Have you watched her
docuseries yet, On the Linoleum

Floor?

Luisa: Not yet, but it's on my
list.

Simone: I think it's trending in
Netflix's top five. People are

gobbling it up. Definitely give
it a watch.

Luisa: I yes. I think I'll wait
to

watch it until after I have my
first meeting with her so that

she's my frame of reference.

You know?

Simone: So how familiar are you
with Gloria's story?

Luisa: As of right now, my only
reference is what's outlined in

the brief. I'm a bad millennial.
I don't really watch a whole lot

of true crime, but this is the
part I love the most about

writing nonfiction, the
discovery.

Simone: Yes.

Yes. See, I knew you were right
for this. I can already see the

pages in my head. But seriously,
you gotta watch the docuseries.

It's traumatizing.

Luisa: With a title like "On the
Linoleum Floor", I wouldn't

expect anything less.

Simone: Oh my god. Yes. So
that's a reference to how she

was well, I'll let you discover
that for yourself.

Luisa: I appreciate it.

Simone: I'm telling you, Luisa,
bestseller.

Okay. I gotta jet to my next
meeting.

Here. I'll walk you out.

Luisa: Okay.

Simone: So any last questions
before we part ways?

Luisa: Just one.

Simone: Mhmm.

Luisa: Do you have any advice
for my first meeting with

Gloria?

Simone: Great question.

Dani: Simone, your 2:30 is in
the conference room.

Simone: Oh, thanks, Dani. My
advice for you.

Luisa: Oh.

Simone: Don't take anything she
says personally. So great seeing

you, Luisa.

Talk soon. Okay. Bye.

Luisa: Okay... Bye.

Jim: Hello.

Luisa: Uncle.

Jim: So you do remember me?

Luisa: Yes, uncle.

Jim: You calling about the
coupon?

Luisa: Not exactly.

Jim: No. But you'll take the

coupon.

Luisa: Sure.

Jim: I'll leave it at the shop
for the next time you stop by.

How are doing on toilet paper?

Luisa: Good. I think I'm good.
Are you clipping coupons as we

speak?

Jim: Yes. I'm gonna give you
this coupon for $3 off any

Charmin toilet paper. And no
such thing as too much TP. So

what's shaking, kid?

Luisa: Oh, not much. You know,
just getting myself situated for

the memoir job, and that's
pretty much it.

Jim: Yeah?

Luisa: Yeah.

Jim: And that's going good?

Luisa: Yeah. It's just, you
know, taking up a lot of my time

these days.

Jim: Well, I know you're a big
deal now, but you forget us

little people.

Luisa: I'm not a big deal, and I
can never forget you.

Jim: Promise?

Luisa: Promise.

Jim: Good.

Hey. Where are we going out for
dinner?

Luisa: Where do you wanna go?
Cheesecake Factory?

Jim: You know I love their
pumpernickel bread.

Luisa: Oh, yes. So good.

Jim: Hey. How about Hamburger
Helper?

Luisa: For dinner?

Jim: Yes. No.

For for for you. I I've got a
buy one, get one free coupon for

a hamburger helper. You still
like the beef stroganoff? You

loved that as a kid.

Luisa: Uncle, my taste has
matured since then.

Jim: So no coupon?

Luisa: Yeah. I'll take the
coupon.

Jim: Yeah. Yeah.

Dropping it into the coupon
pile. ["Geronimo" whistle]

Stroganoff is the best hamburger
helper flavor.

Luisa: Stroganoff is the best
hamburger helper flavor.

Jim: Cheesecake Factory then.

Luisa: Whatever you and auntie
want.

Jim: Well, we wanna celebrate
our girl. That's what we want.

Doesn't matter where.

Luisa: I know.

Hey, uncle. Did auntie tell you
about my car accident?

Jim: Oh, the fender bender?
Yeah. Is everything alright?

Luisa: Yeah. No. Everything's
fine. Insurance folks are, you

know, working everything out. I
I was just curious if auntie

mentioned the person who hit me.

Jim: I I don't think so.

Luisa: Oh, well, it's this
woman, Debra. She actually knew

my mom. They were friends in
school. This is wild. Right?

Like?

Jim: Really? Wow. That's yeah.
That's something else.

Luisa: Yeah. Anyway, she also
met auntie, like, way back when.

You don't remember her?

Jim: I no. I can't say I do.
When you get to my age, you just

Luisa: I I know. I I was just
curious.

So what else is shaking?

Jim: Not a whole lot, kid. Just
living the dream.

Luisa: You're distracted by
coupons again.

Jim: I hit the jackpot. Oh.
Yeah. Buy one LaCroix 12 pack.

Get one free.

Luisa: Oh.

Jim: You taking it?

Luisa: You know I love LaCroix.

Jim: It's going in the pile.

Sherry: I've been thinking a lot
about chance lately. Chance

encounters, all the choices, big
or small, that had to be made or

not made in order for two
strangers to cross paths. Why do

we cross paths with hundreds,
maybe thousands of people in our

lifetime and connect emotionally
with only a select few if we're

lucky. And why do we have that
spark, that romantic jolt of

electricity with an even smaller
group of people, at least for

me. I've only felt that with
maybe a handful of people.

The first time I ever felt it
was with Sam.

Luisa: Sam?

Sherry: And that was unexpected.
I wish things could have been

different. An older couple came
into the bar tonight.

I think they were in their
seventies, eighties. Anyway,

I've never seen them before, and
everyone kinda stopped and

looked at them because they just
looked so out of place. I've

been at Rick's for a few years
now, and I cannot say that I've

ever seen an elderly couple come
in, especially like these two.

They were so cute, like, dressed
to the nines. The guy had on,

like, a three piece suit, and
the woman had the cutest pillbox

hat sitting on top of her
bouffant hairdo.

They were something else. I
couldn't take my eyes off of

them. I'm watching these two
elderly adults look at each

other like they were teenagers
in love. And I thought, is this

new love? Or like, did they meet
recently?

Or are they like high school
sweethearts who never lost that

spark? There's a magic to it
though. That spark you feel with

someone, it's special and rare.
When I was a kid, my dad told me

that he felt that spark only
once in his life and it was when

he met my mother. And he said
that spark was the best and the

worst thing that ever happened
to him.

And then he laughed because at
the time it was funny. Little

did he know. So, yeah, I know
what you mean now, Dad. It's

called a spark for a reason. It
burns.

Can you imagine a man from China
meets a woman from Vietnam in

Los Angeles, California on a
bus? A bus that she wasn't even

supposed to be on. What are the
chances? Maybe this deja vu I

keep feeling isn't a feeling.
Maybe it's history repeating

itself.

A friendly reminder from fate
that we never had a choice.

Trey: I definitely identify with
AJ.

Luisa: I don't know. You feel
more like a Nick Carter to me.

Trey: Nick Carter? The worst
Backstreet Boy?

Luisa: I'm sorry. Excuse me. Not
sure I heard you correctly?

Trey: I said Nick Carter is the
worst Backstreet-- Like, good.

Everyone, gather. He's the
worst. Change my mind.

Luisa: Okay.

First of all, there's no such
thing as the worst Backstreet

boy. They all have their merits.
Second, AJ was the bad boy. No

offense, but you don't come off
as the bad boy type. You don't

even have a pierced ear.

Trey: I'm a bad boy at heart?
Okay. Hear me out. AJ was like

the deep, soulful one of the
group.

Luisa: Mhmm.

Trey: Like, if look

Trey: into his eyes, you'd think
this guy has layers. Am I right?

Luisa: He totally did.

Trey: Okay. You see what I'm
saying? In that sense, I am like

AJ, not some basic ass Nick
Carter.

Luisa: Okay. I see. Well, I'd be
a bit more convinced if you at

least had a tattoo.

Trey: Oh, I have a giant back
tattoo.

Luisa: Really?

Trey: I do not. Do you?

Luisa: No.

Trey: Yeah. I'm not a fan of
needles.

Luisa: I'm not a fan of having
something tattooed on my body

forever.

Trey: I don't know. I'd like to
get a tattoo one day.

Luisa: Yeah. What would you get?

Trey: Oh, probably something
dedicated to my dad and my mom.

Luisa: That's sweet. You all
must be very close then?

Trey: Yeah. I'm really close to
my dad. My mom and I were close

too before she passed.

Luisa: I'm so sorry.

Trey: Oh, I was nine. It was a
long time ago.

Luisa: It doesn't matter how
long ago it was. Loss is always

hard even when you're so young.

Trey: Sometimes I think I
haven't really processed it, if

that makes sense.

Luisa: It does.

Trey: I mean, was just a normal
day. Right? She drove me to

school. She said, see you later.
And then she went to work, and,

she had a heart attack.

Luisa: Trey, that's

Trey: No. Sorry.

Luisa: That's awful.

Trey: I don't wanna bring down
the vibes. Sorry.

Luisa: No. You're not. We're
talking.

Trey: Okay. Thank you. Well,
since then, it's just been me

and my dad. You know? He's my
dude.

My mom, she was stellar. So when
I get my big back tattoo, it'll

be in their honor.

Luisa: I'm sure your parents
would be so proud.

Trey: How about you?

You close with your mom and dad?

Luisa: Yeah. We're close.

Trey: That's good.

Not a lot of folks have that,
you know, good relationship with

their parents.

Luisa: Yeah.

Trey: Got any siblings?

Luisa: No. I'm an only child
too.

Trey: Well, explains a lot.

Luisa: What do you mean?

Trey: You got that only child
vibe.

Luisa: And what does that mean?

Trey: Oh, just that

you're smart, hot, and you're
fucked up like me.

Luisa: Wait. You think I'm hot?

Trey: You think I'm hot?

Luisa: I asked you first.

Trey: Yes. I think you're hot.

Luisa: Nice. Also, what makes
you think I'm fucked up?

Trey: Wait. You have to answer
my question.

Luisa: Yes. I think you're hot.

Trey: Hell yeah.

Luisa: Seriously, though. Do I
give off fucked up vibes?

Trey: You know, based on the
little information I have about

you so far, yes, a bit. But the
best people are.

Luisa: I guess.

Trey: You wouldn't be a good
writer if you weren't at least a

little fucked up.

Luisa: How do you know

that I'm a good writer?

Trey: Because you have a deal
with a big publisher.

Luisa: Maybe I'm a crap writer
who got lucky. That happens a

lot.

Trey: Nah. You're a good writer.
I can tell. Here. I'll prove it.

One sec.

Luisa: What are you looking for?

Trey: Shut up. Shut up. Hey,
boss. Do you got a pen I could

borrow?

Bartender: Sure.

Trey: Thank you.

Luisa: What what's happening
here?

Trey: So this is a napkin. This
is a pen. You might have

encountered them before.

Luisa: Mhmm.

Trey: I bet you could write
something beautiful with just

this.

Luisa: You want me to write
something beautiful on this

napkin?

Trey: I do.

Luisa: Oh, okay. Should I also
stand up and do a tap dance

while I'm at it?

Trey: Oh, sure. If that sounds
fun. Come on. Just write

something, anything.

Luisa: For what?

Trey: For

me to keep. As, like a token.

Luisa: Are you being serious
right now?

Trey: Dead serious.

Come on. Just a

little something. Maybe a poem.

Luisa: Now you want a poem?

Trey: It doesn't have to, like,
rhyme.

I don't know.

Luisa: I'm not a poet.

Trey: Well, I I don't know. I
think there's something poetic

about you.

Luisa: If that's the case, then
you write something.

Trey: Well, I'm I'm not the
writer.

Luisa: Everyone's a writer.
Also, aren't you a product

marketing, what? Product, what
did you say your title was?

Trey: Product marketing manager.

Luisa: Yes. Product marketing
manager. You're telling me that

you don't have to write for that
job?

Trey: Okay.

Luisa: Mhmm.

Trey: Don't look. I gotta
concentrate. Okay.

Luisa: Oh,

not so easy. What you working on
over there?

Trey: You don't don't ask
questions you know the

answers to.

Luisa: Can I look now?

Trey: Almost. Mhmm. Keep singing
game show songs. That's helpful.

Okay.

Okay.

Luisa: See? It's not easy, huh?

Trey: Yes. I think this could be
my Sistine Chapel.

Luisa: Ohh hot dog.

Trey: You ready?

Luisa: Yeah.

Trey: K.

Close your eyes. Okay. Open.

Luisa: "She's a mango woman. I'm
a mango man, and AJ is the best

Backstreet Boy." This is your
Sistine Chapel.

Trey: Thank you.

Luisa: Also, can I just say that
I appreciate that you wore a

Hawaiian shirt?

Trey: Thank you for finally
noticing.

Luisa: It's the first thing I
noticed when I saw you.

Trey: I mean, I get it. When I
see a sexy man in Hawaiian

shirt, my mind goes blank too.

Luisa: That's not at all what I
said.

Trey: You insinuated it.

Luisa: I think you've had too
many mango coladas.

Trey: That is possible. This has
been fun.

Luisa: Do you have to run?

Trey: No. No. No. No. Sorry.

I'm just saying, this was, this
is fun.

Luisa: Very fun.

Trey: Can I tell you something?
I I I hope it doesn't... I see a

therapist.

Luisa: That's great.

Trey: One of the things I've
been working on with her is

situations like tonight.

Luisa: Okay.

Trey: I sometimes get this
anxiety. Kinda hard to explain.

I was close to texting you and
bailing on you tonight. And now

sitting here, that seems...

Luisa: I'm glad you didn't.

Trey: I'm glad you left your
mangoes behind.

Luisa: Yeah.

What are the chances?

So what's the title of your
masterpiece?

Trey: "Mango Woman."

Luisa: Mango Woman. I like it.

Trey: Me too.

Luisa: Reina, I'm just driving
home from my date. It was a

really good date. He was fun and
funny, like legit funny and

vulnerable. Think I like this
guy. Fuck.

Anyway, let's catch up soon.
There's some interesting

developments from my mom's
tapes. God. Let's just say the

last twenty four hours have been
a lot of highs and a lot of

lows. Anyway, call me whenever.

Love you.

Sherry: It's raining. You see
that, Babalu? That's rain. Rain.

Listen.

It's so nice, baby girl? Mama
loves a rainy day. Yeah. You

like the rain too?

Luisa: I love it.

Oh, hi, doggy. You protecting?
Yeah. You protecting. After all,

this is your territory.

You're just doing your job.

But I need to come in, sweet
dog.

Gloria: Come here. Hush up now.

Luisa: Spock? What a cute name.

Gloria: He looks like Spock,
doesn't he?

Luisa: He actually does.

Gloria: Luisa, I presume.

Good boy.

Luisa: Your presumption is
correct. It's so good to meet

you, Gloria.

Gloria: Is it? Come. Follow me.
Luisa, I don't allow just anyone

into my home. So have a seat
here.

I'll be right back. Spock, keep
our guest company.

Luisa: You're just a little
softy, aren't you?

Yeah. You're just a little
softy. Hi...

Gloria: You like lemonade,
Luisa?

Luisa: I'm not a monster, so
yes.

Gloria: Well, I'm sure even
monsters enjoy a glass of

lemonade.

Luisa: You're probably right.

Gloria: I am right. Monsters
love the same things the rest of

us do. Lemonade, dogs, sunshine,
music. They just love the bad

stuff too. You ever encountered
a monster, Luisa?

Luisa: I'm not sure.

Gloria: I'm sure you have. Evil
is everywhere. You know, in

Cheyenne culture, they warn
against allowing strangers into

your home willy nilly in case
that person may be carrying in

some evil. Evil they may not
even be aware they possess.

What about you, Luisa? You got
any evil on you?

Luisa: Well, I sure hope not.
But I don't know. I I don't

believe anyone's entirely good
or entirely bad. Good people do

bad things. Bad people do good
things.

I hope that I'm one of the good
people who occasionally does bad

things, but who can say for
sure?

Gloria: Right on. You're from
LA?

Luisa: Yes, actually. I grew up
in the San Gabriel Valley,

Alhambra.

Gloria: How far did you live
from me?

Luisa: How far did I live from
you?

Gloria: From my family's home.

Luisa: Oh, right. Because you
your family lived there. I don't

know.

I I can't say I mapped it out.
Should I have?

Gloria: I'm just surprised is
all. Every single one of you

writers that I've had the
pleasure of working with seem to

know more about my life than I
do. A bunch of armchair

detectives who've memorized all
the facts and details about my

life.

Luisa: Oh, yeah. I I can see
that.

Gloria: And these so called woke
fools who are so obsessed with

the murder of my family, yet
somehow felt triggered after

having a simple conversation
with me. That's your generation,

though... triggered,

woke, weak.

Luisa: I'm sorry that's been
your experience, but it doesn't

surprise me. A lot of true crime
writers wanna be the next

Michelle McNamara, you know,
with the next true crime

bestseller, but that's not my...
Well, I'm not sure if I should

be admitting this to you, but
I'm probably not the best person

for this job.

Gloria: Is that right?

Luisa: I mean, don't get me
wrong.

I'm a solid writer, at least I
think I am, and I want to work

on your life story, but I'm not
a true crime writer. And I don't

even like the stuff. Anywho, I
was given really detailed notes

about your history from those
writers, which I haven't read

yet because, well, like I said,
I'm kinda scared. No. No.

Very scared, to read about that
night and what you went through.

I'm like the only millennial
woman who doesn't fall asleep to

the sweet sounds of a true crime
show. Frankly, that stuff makes

my stomach turn. And I hate even
using those words, true crime,

to describe your story, but
that's what everyone is calling

this. So, also, I don't really
care about some other person's

notes because those are their
notes and not mine, and I want

the chance to get to know you on
my own, you as a whole person,

and not just for that traumatic
event.

Because you and your life is so
much more than just that. And a

memoir is meant to retell the
story of a life, not just a

moment. And no. Oh my god. I I I
am not trying to diminish what

happened to you and your family
because that was horrendous. But

it's not your whole story, nor
should it be.

At least, that's my take.

Gloria: Well, alright. How's
the lemonade?

Luisa: It's fantastic. Thank
you. Oh, shoot. I forgot. Do you

mind if I record our sessions?

Gloria: Are you serious?

Luisa: Yes.

Gloria: No. No. About that. Why
on earth are you recording on

that, not on your phone like all
these other kids?

Luisa: I know. It's, uh-- I'm
actually gonna record them both

just in case one

of them fails.

Gloria: Let me see that.

Luisa: Oh.

Gloria: My goodness.

My daddy had a cassette recorder
just like this.

Luisa: Funny. That belonged to
my mom.

Gloria: This thing is in really
good shape.

Luisa: It was tucked away for
many years. If you can believe

it, you can still buy blank
cassette tapes.

So here I am.

Gloria: My dad loved his
electronics. I swear, his

favorite place on earth was
Radio Shack. We'd stop there

every Saturday.

Luisa: Oh, I'm I'm sorry. Can
I--

Gloria: Right.

Luisa: And we are recording. So
your dad?

Gloria: Yes, my dad. He was a
funny man. He loved his gadgets.

He always had to have the latest
doohickey to add to his

collection. God.

If he was alive today and see
everything we have now, he'd

lose his damn mind.

Debra: I'm not

quite sure how I feel about this

boba drink yet.

Luisa: I understand. It takes
some adjustment.

Debra: I do like the milk tea.

Luisa: I'm glad.

Debra: It's the

chewing my drink part that is
giving me pause.

Luisa: Listen, Debra.

Luisa: I don't work for Big
Boba, so I have no skin in the

game here. I'm just a boba
enthusiast.

Debra: Well,

thank you for introducing me to
it.

Luisa: You are most welcome.

Debra: For a split second there,
I thought you were Sherry.

Luisa: Yeah?

Debra: I mean, of course, you
look like Sherry, but that's not

what I'm getting at. You sound
like her. Something about the

way you talk and the way you say
things.

Luisa: Yeah?

Debra: Yeah. It's it's very
sweet. Even the way your mouth

moves when you talk reminds me
of Sher. It's surreal.

Luisa: Mhmm.

Luisa: Yeah. It's funny how even
minute things like that can be

passed down. Nature versus
nurture. Am I right?

Debra: Sometimes nature just
cannot be denied.

Luisa: So speaking of, I've been
listening to the tapes. Right?

And my mom has mentioned my
father, my biological father.

Mhmm. But she didn't say much at
least in in what I've listened

to.

And I was hoping that maybe you
could shed some light.

Debra: Gosh. I don't know very
much. I do remember asking her

about him because, you know, we
met when you were just a baby,

and I never saw him coming or
going. All I know is that Sherry

felt a lot of shame around that
relationship because he was

married at the time.

Luisa: Yeah. She mentions that.

Debra: Oh, okay.

Luisa: Does the name Sam ring a
bell?

Debra: No.

Luisa: She mentions a Sam. Did
you ever happen to meet my

uncle, Jim?

Debra: Yes.

Yes. At your your mother's
funeral.

Luisa, this must be a lot to
process.

Luisa: Yeah. It is.

Debra: I'm so sorry.

Luisa: It's okay. Sorry.

I hope you don't think that I
invited you out just to

interrogate you.

Debra: No. Please. I'm glad to
shed any light I can.

Luisa: Do you know the details
about my mother's death? I know

that she was found in the
bathtub, but I don't really know

much else, like if she left a
note.

Debra: I don't know if she left
a note. But how much do you

wanna know?

Luisa: Everything you know.

Debra: Again, it's

not a whole lot. As you know,
she was found in the bath.

Luisa: Do you know who found
her?

Debra: Your uncle, Jim.

Luisa: Oh.

Debra: Her

wrists were cut. They found a
bottle of sleeping pills nearby.

And I... that's that's
everything I know. So, so sorry,

Luisa. I know this might be hard
to believe because I only knew

your mother for a short time
before she passed, but Sherry

was my best friend.

I wish I knew then what I know
now. Maybe I could have done

something different to help her.

Luisa: I don't find that hard to
believe. She talks very fondly

of you, you know, on the tapes.

Debra: She does?

Luisa: Very much so.

Debra: Oh, Sher.

Luisa: You really never listened
to the tapes, not even a little

bit?

Debra: No, actually. Have you
ever driven home but can't

remember how you got there? I'm
not talking about driving

intoxicated or something like
that. I mean those moments when

your mind and body go into
autopilot. That day that I

cleaned out your mom's apartment
and took the tapes, I drove

home, but I don't remember how I
got there.

All I remember was sitting in my
car, looking over at my

passenger seat, and seeing the
box of tapes sitting there. And

then I took that box and put it
on the top shelf of my bedroom

closet. I thought that one day I
would find you. And then the box

sat in that closet until I moved
out of that apartment into the

house I'm in now. I remember
packing my things and coming

across the box again, and I
thought of you.

But then I moved, and the box
went into my attic, and life

happened. And it happened so
fast, so fast. It's as if I

blinked and decades went by.
Everything feels like it was

just yesterday, but also a
lifetime ago.

I'm sorry that I didn't try to
find you.

Luisa: Maybe we were meant to
find each other.

Debra: I think you're right.
Sometimes the only solution is

time, and maybe that's

what was needed for both of us.

Luisa: You know, I'm older than
my mom was when she recorded

those tapes.

Debra: Yes.

Luisa: Yet, in a lot of ways, I
still feel like a big baby.

Debra: Trust me. That never goes
away. Are you trying to find

your father?

Luisa: I don't know. Maybe. Is
it weird that throughout the

years, I never really thought
about him?

Debra: Why do you think that's
weird?

Luisa: I just feel like people
in my situation who don't grow

up with their biological
parents, they tend to think

about them, fantasize about
them, romanticize them, and I've

always, always thought about my
mom, but I may have thought

about my father a handful of
times. Give me your professional

opinion here. Am I a psychopath
or something?

Debra: I don't think that's the
case. But maybe it's worth

exploring what a fatherly figure
means to you and who may have

already fulfilled that role in
your life.

Luisa: Yeah.

Debra: And look, it's perfectly
okay if you do wanna find him

now or if you don't.

Luisa: Right.

Debra: I would like to ask you a
personal question that is a

question for you to answer for
yourself, not me.

Luisa: Shoot.

Debra: Have you ever considered
working with a therapist to help

process and unpack all of this?

Luisa: Oh, I mean, I don't mind
answering that for you. No. I

haven't because I am a
psychopath.

Debra: Well, of course, I'm
biased, but I encourage you to

think about it.

Luisa: Are you taking new
clients?

Debra: Yes. But you can't be one
of them. It's unethical to work

with anyone I have a personal
connection to.

Luisa: Yeah. But you already
know a lot of the history, so I

don't have to spend all that
time and money retelling it to

someone new, which is super
convenient.

Debra: Convenience isn't

the goal.

Luisa: I suppose you're right.

Debra: So I think I'm starting
to enjoy this boba.

Luisa: Oh, yeah?

Debra: Mhmm.

Luisa: The bosses at Big Boba
will be so delighted.

Debra: Mhmm.

Sherry: Ugh, I hate poetry. I
mean, I don't hate poetry. I

just don't like this poetry
class. I mean, I do like this

class. It's just hard, I guess.

Here, I was thinking, oh, yeah.
Poetry. No problem. Easy street.

Check off the elective box.

But I'm no poet. We were given a
simple assignment for this week,

a simple four line stanza about
anything. This should be easy.

Right? But but I'm really
struggling.

This class is kicking my ass.
God... Class... Ass... I guess I

am a poet. I don't know.

I keep rereading this poem we
read in class, Chinatown Talking

Story by Kitty Tsui. "Born into
the skin of yellow women, we are

born into the armor of
warriors." I've never felt like

a warrior. I've been forced to
fight in ways that I didn't ever

think I'd have to. Maybe that's
the message, that it's inherent

to us to have to fight all the
time.

This poem got me thinking about
my mother. She was a fighter.

Maybe if she had stayed, things
would have been different. Maybe

she wouldn't have let Patti be
so awful. I don't know why this

memory popped into my head
earlier.

I must have been a freshman in
high school. I came home from

school one day and Patti was
waiting in the living room for

me. And I'm thinking, here we
go. And she's asking to see my

report card, all authoritative
like she is. So I said something

along the lines of, "no, that's
for dad, not you."

And I started to walk away and
suddenly I'm getting yanked

back. She grabbed me by my
ponytail, and now she's

screaming, "Give me your report
card, give me your report card!"

like some lunatic. So I'm
screaming, "No, no!"

And we're basically yanking each
other's hair out. And finally, I

throw my book bag at her just to
get her off of me, And her eyes,

they were so wild, like she was
possessed. She was hell bent on

finding that report card,
tearing through my bag, ripping

apart my folders and notebooks.
And of course, she found it.

God.

The look of satisfaction on her
face when she saw my grades,

that they weren't perfect
straight A's like hers. I'll

never forget how she looked down
at me and said, "You're just

like her." That year was the
first time I ever fantasized

about killing myself. I've
thought about it since, but not

as much. I can't keep blaming
Patti.

She's changed. She's not a total
monster. Funny enough, I think

Patti was on to something. Maybe
I am just like my mother.

[hum-sings] She's never
satisfied...

I think that's why our dad fell
in love with her. She was always

just out of reach. Isn't that
life, though? Falling for the

ones who won't love us, can't
love us, the way we love them.

Like Patti, she loves Jim so
much, married him after just a

few months of dating.

All she wants is to make Jim
happy. And Jim, well, he

wants...

me.

Luisa: Wait. What?

Sherry: God. Those two. They
were made for each other. They

both love to torture me. See,
this is why I'm starting to

believe in fate.

Everything just feels out of my
control. Ugh, it's late. I

really gotta get going on this
stupid poem. Coffee time.

[singing] This is what it sounds
like... when doves cry.

Credits 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, Chriselle

Almeida, Kiera Nusbaum, Greg
Smith, Varda Appleton, James

III, Malia Macabeo, a very good
boy named Gus, and Kimberly

Truong. Theme music by Edith
Mudge.

Additional music by Manish
Ayachit, Bernard Yin, and

KipLMAO. 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 @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