[SFX: Amelia and Alvina wait in the car. Amelia drums her hands obnoxiously on the steering wheel. For a moment, they’re quiet.]

ALVINA: Must you do that?

AMELIA: (Realizing herself) Oh. Yeah, sorry. It’s something that I do when I’m feeling impatient. I don’t even think about it, it just happens.

ALVINA: I’d prefer to sit in silence for now, if at all possible.

AMELIA: Sure thing, whatever you want…

[SFX: Silence.]

[SFX: After a few beats, Amelia begins to softly whistle a tune. Alvina groans to herself as the sliding door to the van abruptly opens up.]

THE INTERVIEWER: He’ll do, our secrets are safe with him.

AMELIA: Alvina, would you like to go next?

ALVINA: Alright. I could use a break from waiting around in here, anyway. 

THE INTERVIEWER: I’d tell you to be careful what you say around this chap, but I’m confident I left him in a sweet spot, somewhere between both morbidly curious and gravely aware of the consequences of crossing us…? 

AMELIA:(sarcastic) Oh joy. What are you sending us into?

ALVINA: I’ll be fine.

[SFX: Alvina climbs out of the van.]

THE INTERVIEWER: Oh Alvina!

ALVINA: What?

THE INTERVIEWER: If he offers you cocoa, do yourself a favor and decline.

ALVINA: That bad?

THE INTERVIEWER: Let’s just say I’ve had Cow Urine Soda that was tastier.

ALVINA: Good to know.

[SFX: Alvina slams the van door shut and walks away.]

THE INTERVIEWER: We really mucked it up with her this week, didn’t we?

AMELIA: Yes, yes we did.

[MUSIC: Cue the combo Amelia Project/Forgive Me! Theme song.]

[SFX: After it ends, Alvina opens the confession booth and sits, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh.]

FR. BEN: (Stifling a yawn) Everything … alright over there?

ALVINA: I guess… I’ve been better, you know?

FR. BEN: I would imagine so, after witnessing something as grave as the Salt City Potato Incident...

ALVINA: (Distracted) I must confess, I’ve never done this whole, sit in a secret booth and unburden myself to a stranger behind a privacy screen, thing. 

FR. BEN: If you believe in the Lord, then me being here is kind of a bonus, right? The real purpose of confession is to commune with the big guy, so try to think of me as simply an antenna to help facilitate your conversation with him.

ALVINA: It’s all new to me.

FR. BEN: Would you prefer we speak somewhere else? In my office, perhaps?

ALVINA: Oh, goodness, no. I rather like the anonymity of it all.

FR. BEN: Then here it is… Do you need some help getting started?

ALVINA: No, I’ve seen a film or two in my time. I think I’ve got this down.

FR. BEN: After you, then.

ALVINA + FR. BEN: In the name of the father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

FR. BEN: How long has it been since your last confession?

ALVINA: ...Didn’t I just tell you that this was my first time?

FR. BEN (Stumbling, chuckling) Right, of course, I just… it’s part of the whole theater of it, you know?

ALVINA: I guess I don’t know what I might’ve done in a past life, do I?

FR. BEN: That is a very good point.

ALVINA: Then I suppose it has been at least 25 years since my last confession.

FR. BEN: And what’s brought you here tonight?

ALVINA: (Big, exaggerated sigh) Is it possible to sin against yourself, Father?

FR. BEN: Of course it is. There are any number of ways that one is capable of failing oneself. In fact, I think we’re all guilty of it in one way or another, almost every day of our lives.

ALVINA: It’s just, I love my job. I really do. It’s challenging — there’s always some new problem to sort out — and I’m good at it, too. But I’ve been with The Amelia Project for a few years now and it’s hard not to feel like I’m constantly burning the candle at both ends, giving all of myself over to them. I haven’t taken a single day off since I started.

FR. BEN: The Amelia Project? Like Amelia Earhart?

ALVINA: You’re a clever one, aren’t you?

FR. BEN: Huh… I gotta say, I really like that!

ALVINA: Oh, I assumed he would have told you all about it by now. Or, at least the Cliff’s Notes version, anyway.

FR. BEN: No… your colleague was pretty (looking for the word) cagey with me. He preferred that I be the one to open up.

ALVINA: That does sound like him.

FR. BEN: Is he always so…

ALVINA: (Hums in agreement) He is.

FR. BEN: That must be exhausting.

ALVINA: It can be, sure. And he certainly doesn’t appreciate all of the work I do for him. Work that I really take pride in, by the way. He’d rather toss it out of the window and pretend he can do it all himself with that big old mouth of his. 

FR. BEN: Yeah, he did mention something about hating paperwork, yes.

ALVINA: Hah! As if his stunts don’t create heaps more of it. I swear, he treats me like the only reason I’m even there is to fetch him his Maltesers. And you know what? I let him. I mean, sure, I have tried explaining: No, you have to read the case files. There is important background information that I have spent countless hours assembling for you. But he never listens, and no matter how many times I tell him to get his own damn cocoa, I always end up getting it for him anyway. He’s just got that kind of power over people, you know? Just look at what he’s turned Joey and Salavtore into! I mean, I know you don’t know Joey and Salvatore, but if you did, you’d understand my meaning. You get one good look at those two, and you implicitly understand that they’re supposed to be Amelia’s muscle, and yet he’s usually got them running around like proper errand boys.

FR. BEN: If you’ve got a boss that doesn’t appreciate all of the hard work you’re putting in, I can see why you’ve begun to feel burnt out. But how, exactly, do you think that counts as sinning against yourself?

ALVINA: Uh… First of all: whoever said he was my boss?

FR. BEN: Oh, jeez, I’m- I’m so sorry, I guess I only assumed that because he’s… so charismatic and… demanding and… 

ALVINA: No, he is not my boss. No matter how many times he may tell himself that he is. His day to day role may be a bit flashier than mine is, and the one that the clients will take home remembering, but mine is JUST as important. If not even more so.

FR. BEN: And what is it, exactly, that you do for the Amelia Project?

ALVINA: (humorless chuckle) Anything and everything that they need me to.

FR. BEN: Ah. Hence the burning your candle at both ends.

ALVINA: Look, don’t get me wrong, I genuinely enjoy what I do. And Amelia? She plucked me out of one hell of a sticky situation back home that I was … more than happy to get out of. 

FR. BEN: Wait… the Amelia Earhart’s your boss?

ALVINA: (Chuckling) She’d have to be pretty old to be the Amelia Earhart, wouldn’t she?

FR. BEN: (Embarrassed chuckling) Yeah, I guess you’re right. How soon after you started did you begin to feel underappreciated for the work you were doing?

ALVINA: It wasn’t immediately. Amelia spoke very highly to the Interviewer about my organizational skills, but that didn’t strike him as a useful skill. It took a while for him to get comfortable enough around me to start making direct demands. 

FR. BEN: So it was never established, from the beginning, what the corporate structure would be now that you were a part of it?

ALVINA: No. Amelia isn’t always the most hands on person to be around. She set me up with my new life and wrote an address down for me on a scrap of paper. I was to show up there the next morning, bright and early. When I got there, it didn’t look like much. A small two room office in a shared building with a drab sign on the door offering estate planning services, (a little less upset) but when I walked inside I was assaulted by the delicious smell of fresh hot cocoa.

FR. BEN: That’s really a priority for him, isn’t it?

ALVINA: He says he can’t think properly without it. Anyway, I showed up and he was in the middle of an Interview. He regarded me curiously, after it was complete, but barely said a word to me after that. Instead, I set myself up at my desk and began pouring through the random mish mash of files that Amelia had faxed in that week, and whittle away at them until they were in a good, clean, working order. I’d drop them off in his office, every night at the end of the day. ... Even though I did eventually notice a pile of them unread starting to spill out of his wardrobe. 

[SFX: Pause.]

Which is when I made my first mistake.

FR. BEN: What was that?

ALIVINA: I tidied up for him. 

FR. BEN: And?

ALVINA: Pah! It was all open season after that. He continued to ignore the work that I was doing, but he had a whole lot more to say to me day in and day out. Ordering me around like I was some chambermaid. Not that there’s anything wrong with that profession, it just wasn’t what I was there for, and yet he just didn’t seem to realize it.

FR. BEN: What kept you still going after that?

ALVINA: It was all just so interesting, everything I was learning about these people. Everything that we had to do in order to make each disappearance work. It was all like… like a brilliant maths equation that I couldn’t pull myself away from. Who cares if some dingbat thought I was beholden to him, if it kept me doing something I so dearly loved, I could live with it.

FR. BEN: Okay, so, you like what you do, but you could use a break, and wish you only had to focus on your actual responsibilities. What does any of this have to do with the Salt City Potato Incident?

ALVINA: What doesn’t it have to do with the Salt City Potato Incident?

FR. BEN: I don’t know, that’s what you’re supposed to be telling me.

ALVINA: This trip was supposed to be different. It was supposed to be full of excitement and adventure and surprises. But instead… They brought me here.

FR. BEN: Yeah, I can see why that might be a bit disappointing.

ALVINA: You know, it’s my own fault because I’d done plenty of research for the job, but never bothered to look at a map to see how far away we’d be from New York City.

FR. BEN: (Chuckling) Yeah, I’m afraid New York is a pretty big state.

ALVINA: This was to be my first time in the field. Normally I’m stuck back at the office, doing prep work that will never be read for our next batch of clients. But this job was special, they told me. I’d get a chance to get out of the country for a bit and not only see my plans in action, but it fell on my birthday, so there’d be a chance to celebrate as well.

FR. BEN: That’s nice. Happy birthday to you.

ALVINA: Hah. (bitterly) Happy birthday indeed. Only, none of that happened the way it was meant to, and instead I’m stuck here in this dingy little building with you.

FR. BEN: St. Patrick’s is here for all who need it. And, frankly, it’s as big as you want it to be, on the inside.

ALVINA: Like a TARDIS?

FR. BEN: A what now?

ALVINA: (Groaning) I thought Americans loved Doctor Who now.

FR. BEN: I’m sorry, I don’t get a whole lot of chances to watch TV. This place might not look like much, but I’ll tell you—I can empathize with feeling underappreciated for the work you’re doing. It doesn’t necessarily make the job itself any less appealing, but it can certainly make it harder.

ALVINA: As of about 17 minutes ago, I’m now 25 years old. A quarter of a century. Do you think I’m having a quarter life crisis? That’d be pretty cliche now, wouldn’t it?

FR. BEN: I think it’s natural for us as human beings to take stock of ourselves at every big milestone. But I also think you’re very young and have a long life ahead of you. You’ll have plenty of chances to get it right. And, if I’m being honest, to get it wrong, too.

ALVINA: You really don’t understand how The Amelia Project works, do you? For me, from now on, this job is it. 

FR. BEN: It doesn’t have to be though, not if you don’t want it.

ALVINA: Well, yes. It kind of does.

FR. BEN: (Concerned) Are you here under some kind of duress? Is- is is there someone I can call for you?

ALVINA: Hah! That’s rich. No, I’m not here under duress. I made every single decision that brought me here today myself. And I understood, when I signed that contract, that it was a lifetime deal.

FR. BEN: That doesn’t sound like a very safe or sound deal to me. Especially not if your field work is to travel to another country and take part in a sowing such chaos and upending countless people’s lives.

ALVINA: I wouldn’t call it countless. In fact, I don’t think it’d be that hard to count them at all.

FR. BEN: (Exasperated) You know what I mean.

ALVINA: I do. But do you know what I mean? That when this job was put in front of me, there was no other real choice?

FR. BEN: (Frustrated chuckle) No, honestly, I don’t. I don’t know a single person that would consciously make a decision like that.

ALVINA: Then why he said you were clever is entirely beyond me at this point.

FR. BEN: (Proud of himself) He said I was clever?

ALVINA: Well, not exactly. But he said you could handle this.

FR. BEN: Have I proven myself incapable, in any way?

ALVINA: Kind of, yeah. You barely even know me and you’ve already being a bit of a tosser.

FR. BEN: I don’t know what that means.

ALVINA: You wouldn’t.

FR. BEN: (sighs) I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand what would drive a person to willingly work for a company like The Amelia Project.

ALVINA: Have you ever committed fraud, Father?

FR. BEN: I’d say that all of us, at one time or another, feel like a fraud. Like we have no business being in whatever position of power that we’re in at any given moment. I think that’s pretty universal, yeah.

ALVINA: Of course it is, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about real, criminal fraud.

FR. BEN: Oh… uhm… then, my answer is no.

ALVINA: That’s what I thought.

FR. BEN: So your contract at the Amelia Project was about blackmail, then. They had something over you, so you signed the dotted line?

ALVINA: It wasn’t nearly as threatening as that. They made me an offer that I had a very hard time finding any reason to refuse. It was either work for them, or find myself in prison for an undetermined length of time. So, I chose freedom. 

FR. BEN: You have to see why this all looks very complicated to me.

ALVINA: Sure I do, but you also have to see why I made the choice I did.

FR. BEN: …It makes a certain sort of morbid sense, yes.

ALVINA: So you’re done putting on your fake little concerned act and I can continue with my confession, then?

FR. BEN: (Feeling a little bold) I wasn’t even aware that it had started yet.

ALVINA: You’re really a terrible listener, aren’t you.

FR. BEN: (Offended) I certainly am not.

ALVINA: Well, you fooled me.

FR. BEN: Could we get back to you telling me about the festival, then?

ALVINA: I suppose. But, you’re from around here, aren’t you? Have you ever been to one of those things?

FR. BEN: I’ve been known to salt a potato or two in my time, yes.

ALVINA: When Amelia told me we were going to a food festival, I was so excited. I was convinced I’d be able to try all of these incredible worldly delicacies that I’d never had a chance to experience in my life. 

FR. BEN: (Chuckling) Yeah… I wouldn’t exactly call any regional Upstate New York food festival full of worldly delicacies, I’ll give you that much.

ALVINA: Imagine my surprise when we arrived here and I realized it really was just booth after booth of salty potatoes.

FR. BEN: Well, do they make them this good where you’re from?

ALVINA: You call that good? All it is boiled, potato-textured salt.

FR. BEN: You must have forgotten the butter, then.

ALVINA: (Gravely) No, Father. I didn’t.

FR. BEN: I think they’re delicious. They’ve been a graduation party and backyard barbeque staple for my entire life.

ALVINA: (Actually sounding sorry) That’s just so sad. The food where I came from was better than that, and I was basically raised on a rock.

FR. BEN: Not every food has to be for everyone.

ALVINA: But salt potato ice cream? Have you ever tried that monstrosity?

FR. BEN: No, I can’t say that even I’ve been that adventurous.

[SFX: The sounds of slow music at a fair begin to creep in under the conversation.]

ALVINA: When I saw the stall, I thought: thank god. A sweet reprieve from this sea of savory. I ran right up and got my scoop, and when I took the first lick, I was woefully disappointed. This wasn’t a sugary treat, at all. It was some lumpy, salty frozen milk, full of little bits of boiled potato.

FR. BEN: Yeah, I can’t imagine that’d be very good.

ALVINA: It was dreadful. I couldn't even finish a single bite before I threw it out. Amelia wouldn’t let me expense it, either. She said:

AMELIA: (With a slight resound) Uh-uh You are entirely on your own with that one. If you wanna make that kind of mistake, you can pay for it yourself.

ALVINA: And so I took it as a challenge. I won’t be taking that kind of challenge again.

[SFX: The music stops.]

FR. BEN: I’ve always thought that foods like that, the kind you find at big State Fairs and carnivals, are more about the novelty than the actual flavor, don’t you think? Like, who really enjoys chocolate covered bacon. Or a slab of deep fried butter?

ALVINA: (Disgusted) Eugh. I will never understand the American palate.

FR. BEN: Look, ma’am, neither will I, and I grew up here. But, please. For the love of all that is holy, people were seriously injured at that festival. A historic cathedral was destroyed. You and your colleagues showed up here in the middle of the night, moaning about being in a pickle and eating salt potato ice cream, but the more and more I learn about you all and what you do, coupled with the fact that not one, not two, but dozens of people are now nursing broken bones, makes me think we’re nowhere near the heart of this situation. (slowly getting louder and more upset) Can you try telling me, as succinctly as possible, what you were doing that day at the festival? And how it has anything to do with the incident that followed?

ALVINA: Someone’s feeling a little touchy today, aren’t we?

FR. BEN: (Out of breath) CAN YOU BLAME ME?!

ALVINA: Well. Besides taste testing some really awful potato concoctions, I was there to witness a potato concoction of my own. 

[SFX: We hear the sound of bubbling, boiling water.]

ALVINA: Or, well, a potato boiling concoction anyway.

FR. BEN: (Under his breath) Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

ALVINA: You see: these kids were super particular. Their death had to mean something. And it HAD to involve these dreaded salt potatoes. So what better way for it to happen than to have them jump into their own respective boiling vats of the things.

FR. BEN: (Shocked) Good god, that sounds awful.

ALVINA: Yes, exactly. That is the point. Only, you know, they had to be able to survive without being horrifically disfigured in the process.

[SFX: Boiling fades out.]

FR. BEN: And how were you able to manage that?

ALVINA: It was a lot easier than you’d think, even though there were multiple problems we had to solve.

FR. BEN: And those were...?

ALVINA: My colleague, he ate this idea up when they pitched it to him. But, as always, he didn’t think very hard about the engineering a task like this would require. How were we supposed to swap out two giant vats of boiling potatoes that would be on display for the festival goers to see, all day long? Right out from under their noses?

FR. BEN: I have no idea.

ALVINA: By adding a false second pot, of course! We needed to create an insulated middle chamber that, when entered at the perfect angle, would allow our clients to dive into the water completely unscathed. All the while still having a rim full of the things boiling up around the edges.

FR. BEN: (Clearly lost) And how the heck were you able to pull that off?

ALVINA: With days of practice. You see, rigging up the mechanism was easy enough. Those pots are so big, and they fill them so deep with potatoes, that hiding a second, smaller person-sized pot in the middle of it was easy enough.

FR. BEN: But wouldn’t the families have immediately seen that, when they were getting ready for the day?

ALVINA: No. Not at all, since it was our clients’ turn to do the honors of making the potatoes this year. Pfft, I thought you were from this area. You think you’d understand the intricacies of such a long running festival.

FR. BEN: Well, excuse me for not knowing everything, then.

ALVINA: Anyways, after getting them safely into the vat, we had to get them out without raising too many suspicions. But that was alright, because this festival happens right out in the middle of the street, and the vats were each situated above a manhole. Easy enough to build in a trap door attached to a hose mechanism, in order to refill the false second vat.

FR. BEN: But what about the heat source underneath them?

ALVINA: (As if he should realize this by now) We only had to boil the outside ring of the vat so we rigged that up so it wouldn’t be in the way of the escape hatch. Obviously.

FR. BEN: Sure… yeah… obviously. But there’s one thing I still don’t understand.

ALVINA: What’s that?

FR. BEN: In all that commotion, getting them into and then immediately out of the sub-vats, wouldn’t there still need to be bodies for this whole thing to work?

ALVINA: (Amused) Hah! That’s the easy part. The Amelia Project’s got bodies for days. And since they were jumping into boiling water, we didn’t even have to bother finding ones that looked right. They only needed to match our clients’ heights.

FR. BEN: That is concerning in a way I have absolutely no idea how to approach.

ALVINA: It was really special, if I’m being honest. Getting to see my work in action. Thrilling, actually. Almost enough to make up for the fact that the trip so far had been so bollocks. I even gave your salt potatoes another try. Still not for me, but that last batch was almost bearable.

FR. BEN: Ma’am, I can see that you get something out of working with these people. I really do, and I don’t want to begrudge you any of your accomplishments...

ALVINA: Then why do I sense a giant “but” coming?

FR. BEN: … BUT people got hurt that day. And not even only the ones who hired you to fake their deaths.

ALVINA: And…?

FR. BEN: And you still haven’t told me how the hell that happened. You’re over here blathering on about feeling unappreciated and burnt out, when clearly you’ve put yourself in an extremely dangerous position. Now, I know I don’t know you…

ALVINA: No, Father. You definitely don’t.

FR. BEN: But, if I were you, I’d cut and run. Hell, I’d have cut and run years ago, if I’m being honest.

ALVINA: And that’s why you’ll stay right here, while and my colleagues and I? After this whole stupid technicality is out of the way? We’ll push past Joey and Salvatore, and we’ll get on that plane, and we’ll fly back home so we can get right back to work.

FR. BEN: So there’s really no part of you that can look back on the decisions that brought you here and realize that you’ve made a mistake?

ALVINA: Oh, sure I can. I agreed to do this.

FR. BEN: You know full well that that’s not what I was talking about.

ALVINA: I do, do I?

[SFX: There’s another uncomfortable silence before an obnoxious phone alarm goes off.]

ALVINA: That’s my cue.

FR. BEN: You have to be kidding me. You still haven’t told me about the incident.

ALVINA: No, I haven’t. But, Father, that’s not what I needed to get off my chest.

[MUSIC: Faint organ music in the background.]

FR. BEN: Are you at least feeling any better, then? 

ALVINA: (chuckles) I’ll be alright. Thanks for asking.

FR. BEN: Wait, wait. Before you go… Do you think I’ll be able to actually get anywhere with Amelia? Or is this just a waste of everyone’s time?

ALVINA: No, the boss is a straight shooter. And she’s itching to get out of here. I’m sure she’ll give you what you need.

FR. BEN: Alright, then.

ALVINA: (Pausing, and then letting out a sigh) Honestly, though, Father. We may not quite see eye to eye on everything, but I really do appreciate you taking the time to listen.

FR. BEN: (Exhausted) Yeah, well. That’s my job. It’s what I’m here for.

ALVINA: You must be good at it, if everyone else who comes to you is half as hard to wrangle as we’ve been.

FR. BEN: They are, ma’am. They really are.

[SFX: Alvina opens up the booth, stands, and leaves. Ben lets out a deep sigh.]

[SFX: The end credits music begins to play properly.]

ADAM RAYMONDA:  Forgive Amelia - A Triptych is a production from Imploding Fictions and Rogue Dialogue. This episode was written and directed by Bob Raymonda and Jack Marone. 

Story editing by Philip Thorne and Øystein Brager. 

Here’s our cast in order of appearance: 

Julia Morizawa - Amelia

Julia C. Thorne - Alvina

Alan Burgon - The Interviewer

and: 

Casey Callaghan - Father Ben

The Amelia Project theme song originally composed by Fredrik Baden. 

Music arrangement, sound design and mixing for this episode by me, Adam Raymonda. 

Production assistance from Maty Parzival. The graphic design for this crossover series by Anders Pedersen and Sam Twardy. 

This is the second episode in a three part crossover series. On Friday, the 30th of July 2021, we put on a livestream performance of this episode and we will be doing the same for the final installment. If you missed the live performance, you can watch a replay of the stream by supporting the Amelia Project or Forgive Me! on patreon. To become a Patron of The Amelia Project, head over to patreon.com/ameliapodcast, and to support Forgive Me!, make your way over to patreon.com/roguedialogue. 

The final Livestream event for the second event will be taking place on the 27th of August 2021. We’ll be back on your feed with the final episode of Forgive Amelia - A triptych on the 2nd of September 2021. 

[MUSIC: Music plays for a moment longer.]