Episode transcript - “a Christmas Clara”
[SFX: We open on the Ben and Klem’s apartment, some non-specific festive holiday music playing on a radio as Ben fusses over something in the kitchen]
FR. BEN: [Muttering to himself as he stirs a bubbling gravy on the oven] Just a little more stock, and a little more stirring and… Klem! We’ve reached a perfect gravy consistency!
FR. KLEM: (Sarcastically shouting from his room) I’m sure your family would be very proud.
FR. BEN: Honestly I think my mom would be impressed. She always says I struggle to make an ideal roux…
[SFX: Alarm goes off for the oven.]
FR. BEN: Ah! My goose is cooked!
FR. KLEM: (still in the other room) I’ve been telling you that for years, Benji.
FR. BEN: You KNOW I meant Mildred.
FR. KLEM: (as he is walking into the room) You named the goose? Benji that’s disturbingly sentimental even for you.
FR. BEN: (shrugging a bit) I wanted something fresh, so I went out to Warren Dusty’s farm. He and his wife put little tags on their geese with their names and a bit about their personalities.
FR. KLEM: What in the granola nonsense…
FR. BEN: I know it’s a bit much, but I mean, look at this bird! She’s giving us the perfect meal. At least I could call poor Mildred by her name.
FR. KLEM: A modern hero once again.
FR. BEN: Whatever, Mildred needs to rest for at least 30 minutes before we eat.
FR. KLEM: I miss the time before everyone thought they knew what they were doing in a kitchen. We used to be a proper country that overcooked everything and served it hot and fast enough you wouldn’t be able to taste it anyway.
FR. BEN: Well, I’m following this recipe from Bones Appetite and have managed to do everything right and am NOT compromising at step forty-seven.
FR. KLEM: Jajaja, whatever floats your boat.
FR. BEN: Besides! We can do our Christmas Eve presents while we wait.
FR. KLEM: (noticeably excited) Are you sure? I don’t want to spoil your dinner with such a sweet gift.
FR. BEN: After last year… I doubt it.
FR. KLEM: I cultivated you a bonsai from a tree cutting!
FR. BEN: You cut a branch off the Japanese maple outside… in the middle of winter… and shoved it in a pot 5 minutes for before you gave it to me. I saw you do it!
FR. KLEM: Well, this year is different. I… wrote you something.
FR. BEN: Really?
FR. KLEM: You know how I’ve had you drop me off at the YMBA on Thursdays for my seniors gymnastics practice with Margaret?
FR. BEN: Yes…
FR. KLEM: We haven’t been doing gymnastics… we’ve actually been taking a creative writing class run by that boy Mitchell’s mom, Lisa.
FR. BEN: I can’t say I’m shocked by the gymnastics part, I mean I looked on the website and it’s definitely not a thing they do there. I just always assumed you and Margaret were playing cards and saying mean things about me.
FR. KLEM: It just goes to show how wrong you were. We were learning to become better writers while saying mean things about you!
FR. BEN: (sighs) Fair enough… Ok, I’m dying to read this, where is it?
FR. KLEM: Well, it’s in my notebook right here. I’m going to get you a nice bound copy, but for now with my chicken scratch handwriting… How about I read it to you?
FR. BEN: A live reading? Klem, I’m honored.
FR. KLEM: It’s a real Dickensian holiday tale…
FR. BEN: From you?
FR. KLEM: Yes, yes, I know, don’t make me embarrassed. Are you ready?
FR. BEN: Absolutely.
FR. KLEM: Lovely. (Clears his throat, festive music begins on cue with his reading)
FR. KLEM NARRATING: In a lovely small town, sat a church named Saint Pat’s, on a cold Christmas Eve, in silence she sat, pondering hard on decisions she made, to stop a young canter’s Christmas Day serenade. See Young Aiden had hoped to sing Ave Maria, but this woman replied BELLS ONLY, SEE YA!,
CLARA: The holidays aren’t for carols and song, they’re the most special time for a brassy bing-bong.
FR. KLEM: Hollow and cold her own arguments fell, as she heard the pang of a midnight church bell, in moments she’d feel her own holiday terror, that’s right folks it’s time for A Christmas Clara.
FR. BEN: (music cuts as he speaks) Klem… did you write… a holiday themed fanfiction about your own church?
FR. KLEM: (defensive) Lisa said I was being very creative and that using your lived experience is a great jumping off point to write compelling characters. You don’t like it?
FR. BEN: What? No I mean… it’s… great…
FR. KLEM: (Relieved) Oh good, plus you know Margaret basically did the same thing, but took all her stories down a way more erotic path.
FR. BEN: I don’t want to know…
FR. KLEM: Don’t worry, she’s still way too devout to include you.
FR. BEN: That’s a relief… I guess.
FR. KLEM: I can tell her you’re interested in being a more major role…
FR. BEN: Keep reading your story, Klem.
FR. KLEM: Fine, fine…
[MUSIC: The song cuts back in.]
FR. KLEM: Wind rushed through the doors on that midnight bell. Throwing Clara’s new score for a spell. She scrambled over and slammed them shut, shocked that they opened even from such a gust. As things grew quiet felt in her bones, a creeping sense that she wasn’t alone,
CLARA: Who’s there?!
[SFX: Clara laughs and sighs in time with Klem’s lines below.]
FR. KLEM: The bell ringer shouted through an echoing church, but no one replied… at least not at first. She let out a laugh and a sigh of relief, but then near the altar as a ghost took a seat.
CLARA: AHHH!
FR. KLEM: She cried then, shouted quite clear:
CLARA: It’s that young priest you want, I’m not usually here!
FR. BEN: (interrupting, any music cuts out as we leave the scene momentarily) Even in your fantasy Clara is scapegoating me?
FR. KLEM: Lisa told us in class the best way to write fantasy is to ground it with relatable characters.
FR. BEN: Sure. So, who is this ghost?
FR. KLEM: I’m getting there!
[MUSIC: The song cuts back in.]
FR. KLEM: Clara squints and with recognition is suddenly sad as the ghost by the altar is Joseph Martin the Third, her dad. Holding back tears and a rather large fright she said:
CLARA: (trembling) “Father, why have you come to visit this night?”
FR. KLEM: Joseph Martin the Third turned to Clara with cold ghostly eyes, while hundreds of bells dangled from chains at his side. He began gliding toward Clara with bings and bongs as thousands more bells on the ground dragged along.
[SFX: We hear the sound of trains dragging with bells clanging, dangling off of them as they move.]
CLARA: Halt!
FR. KLEM: Clara shouted, thinking twas a demon’s trick but he kept moving forward, not slowing a tick. Clara momentarily wondered if this was her end then he suddenly stopped and extended his hand.
JOSEPH: (ghostly rasp) Daughter…
FR. KLEM: He wheezed with a frown on his face.
JOSEPH: I’m sad to see you repeat my mistakes.
CLARA: What mistakes, dada? You should be a saint. Surely there is no sin that could cause such a taint.
JOSEPH: There is my dear daughter and I pay for it now, chained to my bells like the devil’s prized cow.
CLARA: Dada! Clara cried, this cannot be so! You gave such beautiful music, it made the church glow!
JOSEPH: Oh daughter,
FR. KLEM: He said.
JOSEPH: I was selfish and proud, I would not share the bells that you play clear and loud.
CLARA: No, no!
FR. KLEM: Clara said.
CLARA: This cannot be right, I’m just having a dream, or more likely a nightmare, tonight!
JOSEPH: Dear daughter, I wish this was fancy or fake but I warn you there is more than one boy's feelings at stake. Tonight three specters will visit the bell tolls, listen and learn or it may mean your soul.
CLARA: What?!
FR. KLEM: Clara said, clearly distressed but when she’d turned to her father, he’d already left.
FR. BEN: I want it on the record. I think it’s really disturbing that you wrote a ghost story about Clara’s father, an actual human person.
FR. KLEM: I asked for her permission first.
FR. BEN: Really?
FR. KLEM: Oh yes, I ran all my notes by her for accuracy, she’s a big fan of every character in the thing.
FR. BEN: Accuracy?
FR. KLEM: More thematic and emotional than factual. Don’t slow me down though, this is a bonus episode we shouldn’t drag on.
FR. BEN: Huh?
FR. KLEM: (back into the story) Clara stood there in shock trying hard not to lurch, then after a beat said.
CLARA: I gotta get out of this church.
FR. KLEM: She packed her things quickly and then moved toward the door but stopped in her tracks as the bell rang once more.
CLARA: (calming herself) It’s just the church bell Clara… like yours only larger, though I do think it might be time for a hasty departure.
[SFX: We hear the slam of a door underneath Klem’s line, which elicits a gasp from Ben.]
FR. KLEM: She made it halfway before the doors SLAMMED open wide. Smoke billowing into the church from outside. Clara cowered in fear from the disturbance’s source and then suddenly from the door sauntered in a great horse.
FR. BEN: You didn’t…
HORSE CLARA: CLARA…
FR. KLEM: Said the horse though a hearty neigh.
HORSE CLARA: From the past I have come to visit this day.
CLARA: Are you…
FR. KLEM: Clara paused in shock as she knew.
HORSE CLARA: Yes, I’m your grandfather's horse, with the same name as you. Now come out from that place where you hide. You must hop on my back for a memory ride.
FR. KLEM: Clara, the woman, did as instructed and climbed Clara, the horse. Who immediately galloped right out through the doors.
CLARA: Woah!!!
FR. KLEM: As they ran through the doors Clara expected to jump into the night, but to her surprise there was a far different sight. Still at St. Patricks but it was clearly the morn’ as a sign in front of the church read, “Merry Christmas 1974!”
CLARA: Horse Clara?
FR. KLEM: Asked Clara.
CLARA: Where are we now?
HORSE CLARA: Why we are in St. Patricks, to see Christmas before the bells were yours to ring loud.
FR. KLEM: Horse Clara leaned down to let Clara back to the ground then turned her mane back toward the church where Clara could hear a familiar sound.
[SFX: The bells ringing, indicating it’s time for the next ghost.]
HORSE CLARA: Step inside Clara there is something to see, nobody can see you so get as close as you need.
FR. KLEM: Clara stepped back inside the church from her youth to see her childhood self watching her father play bells from a booth.
CLARA: Look at me.
FR. KLEM: Clara excitedly whispered to Clara’s horse ear.
CLARA: I was so young, so excited to see my father play here.
[SFX: The bells stop.]
YOUNG CLARA: (applauding) PAPA! You’re playing, it’s so lovely, I’m so proud.
JOSEPH: QUIET DAUGHTER, A man cannot focus with children so loud!
HORSE CLARA: I’m sorry, your childhood was not an easy one
CLARA: (sadly) It’s alright, I know my father wished to have a son.
HORSE CLARA: Do you remember what happens next?
CLARA: Do I have to see?
HORSE CLARA: Yes, I do think it is for the best.
YOUNG CLARA: Sorry father, I don’t want to disturb your great sound, I’m grateful to watch, so I can learn when for my time comes around.
JOSEPH: Your time?
YOUNG CLARA: Yes! when I’m old enough to play the bells.
JOSEPH: When I see a woman ring in this church it’ll be a cold day in HELL.
CLARA: Horse Clara, why are you making me see this? Horse Clara?
FR. KLEM: She turned and turned to search for the steed,
but the horse was gone and then… suddenly so was that scene.
She was back in the church, alone, shaken,
As the worst parts of her childhood reawaken.
CLARA: (forlorn) What is happening? I’m losing my mind. Why the hell was my father so deeply unkind?
FR. KLEM: Clara stood for a moment, staring to the ceiling when the church began to shake and the bell, once more, began to ring.
FR. BEN: Oh who is the ghost of christmas present.
FR. KLEM: You’ll like this one I think… At the front of the church came that same billowing smoke then from behind the altar a muscly silhouette did poke.
CLARA: It’s… you!
FR. KLEM: Swooned Clara as she saw the hunk at the altar. He was shirtless, but still wore his signature collar.
FR. BEN: Klem…
FR. KLEM: Shhh! I’m reading
HOT FR. BEN:Yes baby, it’s me, your neighborhood priest. I’ve been working out hard like you’ve seen in your dreams.
FR. KLEM: Ben flexed and posed…
FR. BEN: (Interrupting) Klem, what the hell is this?
FR. KLEM: It’s the ghost of Christmas present!
FR. BEN:You said you showed this to Clara, and she liked it?
FR. KLEM: Yes, yes I mean this part is based on her own confessions.
FR. BEN: That’s a bit of an overstep to write fanfic about somebody’s confession Klem, even for you.
FR. KLEM: She said it was fine, was nice to see her fantasies coming to life.
FR. BEN: I’m gonna be sick.
FR. KLEM: I’m just gonna power through, you’re a hero in this!
FR. BEN: Whatever just keep reading…
FR. KLEM: Ben flexed and posed then stepped down to her pew.
HOT FR. BEN: I have something really… surprising… to show you.
CLARA: (hot and bothered) Oh my…
FR. KLEM: Clara’s legs buckled and fell into Ben with a sigh. He held her close and said…
HOT FR. BEN: In your dreams baby, was I able to fly?
[SFX: We hear a woosh as Hot Fr. Ben and Clara begin to fly.]
FR. KLEM: With that he took off through the window, embracing the skies, Clara looked down at the lights, her eyes open wide.
CLARA: Where are you taking me, you hunk of a priest?
HOT FR. BEN:To see someone you know… in a moment you’ll see.
FR. KLEM: With that Ben smirked and dove quickly down, to a quiet and cozy street in our town.
CLARA: Whose house is this, I don’t think I know?
FR. BEN: Girl, why don’t you take a quick peek in the window?
FR. KLEM: Clara walked to the house as snow crunched under her boots, she saw inside a family smiling, gathered round their christmas goose. At the far end of the table she then saw a boy a bit less full of the family’s holiday joy.
CLARA: That’s Aidan!
FR. KLEM: Clara said.
CLARA: He’s always so happy, gleeful and loud, I wonder what’s got him feeling so down?
FR. KLEM: Then Ben walked up to her, snow glistening off of his pecks,
HOT FR. BEN: Can you think of anything that could have left him so vexed?
CLARA: You don’t mean to say…
HOT FR. BEN: I do, Clara Martin. Your words meant so much, he’s been left truly disheartened.
FR. KLEM: The laughter continued with joy abundant and clear, yet Clara saw Aidan shed a single tear. At that moment his mother walked from her own chair and wrapped her arms around Aidan seeming to say, “It’s ok, dear.”
CLARA: See why should I feel bad, this boy has more than church songs…
HOT FR. BEN: So having the love of his mother means you can treat him wrong?
CLARA: I…
FR. KLEM: Stammered Clara, at a loss of words
CLARA: No… you’re right, sexy Ben, I haven’t been good.
HOT FR. BEN: It’s alright baby, do you want to go inside where you can hear?
CLARA: It’s ok… I think I get your point… the message is clear. I think I’d like to just hop back in your arms and fly back.
HOT FR. BEN: In this cold? I have an idea better than that.
FR. KLEM: With that Ben brought Clara in close, and puckered his lips. Clara, beside herself, closed her eyes for the long fated kiss.
FR. BEN: KLEM WHAT THE HELL!?
FR. KLEM: Hold your horses… I’m proud of this moment.
FR. BEN: If this turns into an erotic audio drama, I’m leaving this town forever.
FR. KLEM: Clara waited a moment, then another, then a few seconds more. She then opened her eyes to find she was back in St Pat’s, alone on the floor.
FR. BEN: Oh, thank god.
FR. KLEM: Clara sighed and then frowned, feeling guilt for the young child as the bells rang again this time louder, more wild.
[SFX: Bells claning at a drumbeat pace that transforms into the banging of a gavel.]
CLARA: Oh lord, oh lord who is my final ghost?
FR. KLEM: Clara said, frightened as the sound seemed to change, from bells to the banging of a hammer with rage. She looked around to find the church changed again, her seat was a pew but now a court bench.
WALTERS: ORDER!! ORDER!! Silence in this place. Whose sins but be judged for their cruelty and hate?
FR. KLEM: Clara stood dumbfounded by the judge in his robe, a familiar voice coming out of his hooded shadow.
WALTER: YOU!
FR. KLEM: The judge pointed his gavel at Clara’s face.
WALTERS: What defense do you have for your actions today!
CLARA: I…
WALTERS: YOU MADE THAT BOY CRY, YOU SILENCED HIS SONG. WHAT DEFENSE DO YOU HAVE FOR ACTIONS SO WRONG.
CLARA: I didn’t mean to… I just wanted the bells… I’m so full of shame!!!
WALTERS: Your regrets do nothing to adjust who's to blame!! I ask this jury to decide what’s to be done with your fate. I’m sorry young lady… your confession comes far too late.
FR. KLEM: In that moment she saw from the choir stand, twelve ghostly jurors rising up with their hands.
WALTERS: What say you jury?
JURY: GUILTY!
FR. KLEM: They cried, pointing their fingers at Clara, eyes wide.
WALTERS: WHAT IS HER FATE?!
FR. KLEM: With that the floor opened like a swinging gate. She fell and she fell after the floor gave until a thud and she knew… this was her grave…
[SFX: The toll of death?]
FR. KLEM: (aside to Ben) Scary stuff eh Benny!
FR. BEN: (bored) Bone chilling. What happens next?
FR. KLEM: With a gasp she awoke on the cold church floor, sunlight bleeding through the stained glass on the door.
FR. BEN: Hey Clara
FR. KLEM: Cried Ben, the local schlub pastor.
FR. BEN: Are you alright? I heard snoring and came running after
CLARA: What day is it?!
FR. KLEM: Cried Clara, jumping up and brushing off her pants.
FR. BEN: It’s Christmas.
FR. KLEM: Said Ben.
CLARA: Then there’s still a chance!
FR. KLEM: Running by in a flash, she kissed Fr. Ben on the head.
CLARA: Merry Christmas to you my hot priestly friend!
FR. KLEM: Out in the street she ran down the block to her 95 camaro, on the street she had parked in the church lot. She sped from the church to the house in her dream finding herself at the home of the preteen. She knocked on the door to see Aidan’s mother.
CLARA: Hi, is Aidan home…? I have an update on mass.
FR. KLEM: With a frown and a nod the mom let her pass. In moments she waited taping her toes all the while and turned to Aidan’s mom and said:
CLARA: Merry Christmas
FR. KLEM: And Aidan’s mom smiled. After just a mere moment Aidan was there in a jif, holding a bell he’d received from Santa, as a gift.
CLARA: That’s a lovely bell. It’ll sound very good in the church I’m sure. Still I think there may be an even better idea, if you’d want to still sing… the Ave Maria?
FR. KLEM: Aidan stood there, mouth agape, clearly confused.
CLARA: I’m sorry to have come here, on Christmas? So rude.
FR. KLEM: As she got up to leave she saw Aidan nod.
Tears welling up he hugged her and so did his mom.
A night before Christmas and a heart made of stone,
through caring and empathy had found a new home.
[MUSIC: A short holiday music stinger.]
FR. BEN: Well Klem, I have to say… this was… hands down the weirdest gift I have ever received.
FR. KLEM: Why thank you Benji, I had a feeling you’d like it.
FR. BEN: Strangely, disturbingly, I kinda did. Merry Christmas, Klem.
FR. KLEM: Merry Christmas, your holiness..
ADAM RAYMONDA: Forgive Me! is a Rogue Dialogue production. This episode was written by Jack Marone.
Directed by Bob Raymonda.
Here’s our cast in order of appearance:
Casey Callaghan as Father Ben
Josh Rubio as Father Klem
Krystal Osborne as Clara Martin
Giancarlo Herra as Joseph Martin
Hannah Schooner as Horse Clara
Michael Larkin as Judge Joe Walters
Dialogue editing by Bob Raymonda.
Sound design, score, and mixing by me, Adam Raymonda.
Additional music from Johnathan M. Horner, licensed from the free music archive
Episode Art by Jack Marone.
Graphic Design by Sam Twardy.
Find out what we’re up to by following @forgivemeshow on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
We seriously cannot thank all of our supporters on Indiegogo and Patreon enough for their support. It is what makes the production of these episodes possible. If you’re just finding us and would like to show your support, check out patreon.com/roguedialogue
That’s it for this year.
Merry Christmas!