Tired of the everyday grind? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Want to get away from it all? We offer you... Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure! You are standing alone in a mountain village somewhere in the puppet country of Andorra the high crags of the Pyrenees trapping the last of the daylight and you know that in one of the stone houses facing you behind one of the doors that is closed against you is a beautiful woman whom you must find before she meets her death. Listen now as Escape brings you Kathleen Hight's story, The Dark Wall. The black quiet of the night settled over us. I could hear only the silky ripple of the river Segre nearby and the thin whisper of wind in the high pines above us. The strained silence of the day was over. Joyce was sleeping quietly now, a few feet away. I sank into my sleeping bag and prayed that things would go better tomorrow. Something roused me. Some sound. In a glance I saw the grey of the pre-dawn and then I saw Joyce. Poised at the sight of my sleeping bag, wild terror in her eyes and in her upraised hand a heavy tire iron. Joyce! Don't wake up Alan, don't! Joyce for heaven's sake, give that to me! No, no, no, I've got to! Give it to me, let go! Let go, drop it, let it go! No, no, I won't! Don't Alan! Let it go! Joyce! Oh, you were supposed to wake up! Why? Why did you have to wake up? Oh Alan, Alan, I'm so afraid! No, no, you're all right, Joyce. Joyce, don't be afraid. No. Oh Alan, what's wrong? What's wrong? There's nothing to be afraid of. It's so, so awful to be so frightened. What frightens you? Can't you tell me? I was going to kill you. What? I wanted to kill you. Joyce, are you afraid of me? Oh, it isn't you. I love you. And I love you, darling. Oh, I know you do. Alan, please, can't we go now? Can't we get away from here? I knew now that Joyce needed care, quickly. Her sickness, whatever it was, had been a growing thing. As we drove through the narrow, winding roads of the Pyrenees toward the tiny state of Andorra, I tried to forget what had happened. Tried to ignore the mounting wall of silence between us. Something in that silence told me that Joyce's fears were greater than mine. Why are you stopping here? The road forks up there, just ahead. I want to look at the maps. I'm not sure which way we're supposed to turn. Aren't there any towns? Are we ever going to see people and buildings again? We can't be too far from Andorra la Vieja, but I doubt if this road we're on is even on the map. Then let's go back, Alan. If we don't know what's ahead, let's go back to Llerida or Barcelona. Anywhere but here. There's a long way back, Joyce. I don't care. This place, all tanglewood and pines, and narrow paths that twist and wander. We're not lost, darling. Then where are we? I don't like it, Alan. It's just a wild, lonely place. And it frightens me, and I beg you to take me out of here. All right, all right, darling. Don't worry. I know what's behind me. But ahead, it's all unknown. I'm afraid of what's ahead. You mustn't be afraid, Joyce. I won't let anything happen. We wound steadily higher and higher through the wooded Pyrenees. We met no one and saw no one. Andorra is a small state, only 192 square miles in all, but that morning it was an endless, stretching, climbing no-man's land, a lonely place with no name and no face. Then finally we came upon it, not a town, really, a village with one great house and a few smaller ones. Perched there on the rocky ledge, it looked like the last stop before oblivion. It's so quiet. I wonder where the people are. I wonder if there are people. It's not a town at all. Perhaps we should have turned back when you said to. Look. Look at the window. Where? I know I saw a face in the window. Oh? There's someone here, Alan, someone. No, you don't want to stay here, darling. Even if we find someone, this isn't the place for us now. Look, you see, the door, it's opening. Alan, someone is here. But, Joyce, this isn't the... You have lost your way. We were told there was a town here. There is. Well, is this all there is to it? We do not require more. Please, I'm tired. I need rest. Can't we stay here? Is there a hotel? Anyplace where we can get a room? There is what your eyes tell you there is, and no more. Is there a larger town anywhere near here? You are in Andorra. Nothing is far away. Nothing is easily reached. What's the matter with you people? Must you always talk in riddles? Can't you answer questions? Alan. Can't you... Please. We must stay here somehow. Just a while. I need to stop a while. She is your wife? Yes. There is no hotel. I see there isn't. This house has many rooms, but we are a large family. Please. Please understand me. I have to stay here. I can't wander around in narrow trails. I have to stop and rest. Can't you understand? Can't I make either of you understand? Darling, it's all right. We'll find a room. You'll rest. You mustn't worry, Joyce. I must sleep. I must. No matter what happens, I must sleep. Can't you do something? Lady, you come. Woman! Almost as soon as he called, a squat little woman appeared in the doorway. They exchanged only a look, and then she came and led Joyce into the house. At first I thought the man meant for me to stay outside. He moved as if to stop me from following. Then he stepped back, and I walked into the house. Joyce was stretched out on the bed when I got there. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. It's nice, isn't it, Alan? Well, it's a room, a bed. I wish it were more. Oh, I'm so tired. Yes, darling. Now you go to sleep. When you wake up, as soon as you feel like it, I'll take you to Andorra la Vieja. Yes, Alan. When I wake up. Sleep well, darling. She sleep? Oh, she's very tired. The woman says she trembled. The woman says she is full of fear. I don't suppose there's a doctor anywhere around here. We have no need for a doctor. My wife is ill. We have need for a doctor. You will not find one here. I know. I know. Hey, what? Hey, get away from that car! Go on now. I said, get away from it! You are the intruder, not they. Well, they can leave the car alone. They have. Who are they? My sons, my brothers, their sons. We are the family here. We are called Valera. We tend sheep and our own affairs. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm worried about my wife. I didn't mean to shout at them. Most of the time, our mountains protect us. We do not like intruders. It is not so bad in winter, Alan. The snows fall deep into the passes, seal them, and keep the intruders out. We are not intruders. We don't want to be here. We don't mean to be here. And I promise you, we won't be here long. Sometimes the intruders come to hide in our mountains, to be lost from the world. Always the intruders are troubled people, full of fears and discontent. The worst of their world, they find their way. The worst of their world, they find their way to Andorra. I walked away from him, along the crude cobble of the village path, away from the great house and the smaller ones. And everywhere, the sons, the brothers and their sons of Valera watched me with silent distrust. I walked to the rocky pinnacle that was the edge of the village, and beyond, as far as I could see, the awesome Pyrenees reached higher and higher, like a great wall closing out the rest of the world. I went back to the house where Joyce slept. The woman is with her. She called out, and the woman went into her. I shouldn't have left her alone. I must have... Wait. The woman has brought her quiet. That is enough. I wouldn't try to keep me out here if I... How is she, woman? She is quiet now. The woman would not leave her so, if she were not quiet. Joyce! Oh, Joyce, darling. They said you'd gone. No, no, no, no. Only for a little while. Only while you slept. Don't... Don't come any closer. Oh, Joyce. What is it? Please, leave me alone. I want you to leave me alone. We're going to get out of this place, darling. Together. No. No, I won't go. I won't. We'll find the right road. It can't be far. And I promise you, darling, everything will be all right. We won't come here again. Ever. Why don't you listen? I talk to you and you don't listen. I'm not going with you. You can't make me go with you. No, no, no, no, no, no. Joyce, wait. Don't let him take me away. Oh, please. Oh, please don't let him take me away. Joyce was clinging to the woman. Valera stepped in front of them as I came back to the front room. And beside him, from every corner of the room, the rest of the Valera men began to form a wall between Joyce and me. A wall of men. Silent men. With staring distrust in their eyes. What are you trying to do? Oh, Cat, you see, she's sick. I've got to get her out of here. Don't you know that? I'm taking her with me. And the whole lot of you can't stop me. You don't know you. You are listening to The Dark Wall, tonight's presentation of Escape. One advantage in having several radios about the house is that they make it possible for housewives to listen while they work. A kitchen set, another in the living room, perhaps a third in the bedroom. Keep them all tuned into CBS Radio for our great roster of daytime dramatic stories. And now Escape and the second act of The Dark Wall. I aroused from a sleep that was tortured and full of pain. A bright afternoon sun shone in a haze about me. And when my vision cut through it, I saw nothing my eyes had seen before. I was in my own car, pulled to one side of a road that was wider than any I'd seen for days. And not far in the distance I could hear the approach of other cars. But none were yet in my view. I got out, stood in the roadway. With all the stiff pain of me, it felt good to be a part of the world again. But then I remembered Joyce and the wall of Valerian men and I was lost and lonely and sick. Hey, you should not walk in the middle of the road. No, no, no, I shouldn't only... You are hurt? An accident? I'm all right. I just don't know where I am. What road is this? Oh, you're in Andorra. You know that? I know that. Then straight ahead on this road, the direction your car is pointing, no more than four kilometers lies the capital, Andorra la Vieja. Straight ahead, Andorra la Vieja. I promise. I have just come through there myself. Well, you are sure you are right. Not hurt? No, I'm much better now. Do you know this country well? Oh, well enough to drive through it quickly. My home is in Spain. You wouldn't know a village near here, maybe a small village where everyone is called Valera? No, I would not know it. There are many such villages in Andorra if you can find them. I must find it. Perhaps in Andorra la Vieja? Perhaps. My hopes were high for Andorra la Vieja. There would be answers for all my questions. There would be concern and help and interest. I told myself these things to keep my mind from filling itself with choice, to keep the pain quiet. Some corner of my mind held the memory of all that had happened in the house of Valera. I could not be sure I wanted to remember. I do not see why you have come here, to me. I didn't know any place else to go. I need so much help. I thought surely the police could do something. There has been a crime? No, my wife is ill, very ill. She's with strange people in a strange village. I've got to find help for her and go back there. Then why do you not do this? Why do you bother me? I've told you... Will you try to understand me? I don't know where the village is. I don't think it's far away, but I don't know where it is. It has a name, the village? I don't know that. The people there are called Valera. There is a river called Valera. No, I saw no river, no, not there. It was high, on a rocky crest of a mountain, just a few houses. You must know where it is. You were there? Yes, this morning. Then you must know where it is. No, I don't. I don't have any idea where it is. But you were there this morning. And now you are here. Look, I don't know how I got there. Can I make you understand that? I think none of this is important. It's all important to me. My wife is ill. She needs care. You tell me that. Perhaps then you will tell me why you left her in a strange village you do not know, with strange people you do not know. I didn't leave her. But she is there. And you are here. No, you won't even try to help me. Help you? Help you what? Find a town where you have been and I have never been? All right, all right. I can't talk anymore. There is a hotel across the plaza. You will find other intruders there. Among them, a doctor. I wasn't sure I had heard him clearly, but there were no questions left in me. I stumbled out into the glaring sunlight again, steadied myself against a pillar. And when I could make out the hotel across the plaza, I walked there. Held together, I know, by the thin strand of hope that I would find the doctor and there would be help for Joyce. Here, drink it, Don. Oh, whiskey? Yes, good whiskey. You need it. Good. It helps. You do understand, doctor, that I have not come about me. You're your wife. I know. I understand that. I'm glad someone does. You think the priest can help us? You think he'll be able to find the village? The Padre will direct us there, if anyone can. Meanwhile, this time, now, tell me about your wife as much as you can, as much as you know of her illness. I've called it illness. I suppose it's that. Fear. Unreasonable fear is an illness, isn't it? Oh, indeed it is, yes. Has she known these fears long? I don't know. We've been married less than a month. I knew her only a short time before that. No, it was all pretty sudden. She was alone, I was alone, and then we were together. Did you, uh, happy together? Oh, yes. Very happy. Very much in love. Until this strangeness came over her. Yes, yes, that's right. Uh, may I? Oh, please do. Help yourself. Thank you. How was it you described the difference in her, the difference in your relationship? Like... like a wall, a mounting wall of silence. And in this silent time of hers, she is much different, not at all like the girl you married? She doesn't even look like herself. Her lovely, gentle face contorts into a wild thing, like she was an animal. Oh, it's ugly, Doctor, and so real. I couldn't imagine that, could I? No, I don't believe you could. She was like that early this morning when she tried to kill you? She kept saying that she had to kill me, that she wanted to kill me. And all the while she was so frightened, so very frightened. But you know what frightened her? Do you know any reason why she should want to kill you? I thought she must be afraid of me. She'd have no reason to be, but I thought that must be it. I asked her and she said, it isn't you. I love you. Oh, the poor darling. And she said that after she tried to kill you? Almost immediately afterward. It's a complete contradiction, I know, but that's the way it is. As if Joyce were two persons, two directly opposite persons. That may be precisely the case, you know. I... I don't understand. Two persons. One almost entirely good, gentle, kind. The other almost entirely evil, terrifying, menacing, fiendish at times. Two persons occupying one body. That's schizophrenia. Oh, no. No, not Joyce, Doctor. Oh, I'd have to be sure, of course, but from what you said... No, still I'd have to see her, talk with her, or there are many steps to take. No, the important thing now is to see her as soon as possible. Schizophrenia. That's hopeless, isn't it? I mean, there's no cure, is there? Well, it depends largely, I should say, on how long these two personalities within her have been warring, one with another, the good and the evil and the moral and the immoral. If the cleavage is minor at this point, if the breach between her two selves, as it were, is not yet great, then there is a measure of hope. But she couldn't go on this way indefinitely, being two people. Mustn't one of her selves, as you say, win this war? If it progresses unchecked, well, then yes, one self will emerge triumphant. Which is a poor war word here, for in such an instance, the evil almost inevitably triumphs over the good. Can we go to her now? Yes, I'm sure the party will have our directions. The Priest's Directions The priest's directions were perfect. As I had assumed, the village was not far away, but the drive was an eternity for me. The strain of the last days was beginning to tell. I was wound tight and knotted by all that had happened and torn deep by all the doctor has said. I stopped outside the great house of Valera. The doctor touched my arm. Perhaps, perhaps it's best that I see her alone, at first. Oh, but I've got to see her. Oh, I know, and you will, but you don't know what happened here before you left. The last you remember, she was terrified of you. I'll send for you soon, I promise. Tell her I love her. Will you? Oh, indeed I will. Oh, there's one thing I neglected to tell you, one important facet of this. If we find what we fear most, you must take this comfort to your heart. A girl you love, who loves you, has no knowledge whatsoever of her other self. Thank you, doctor. Yes, you ponder that. I shan't be long. I watched the house door close behind him, and there in the high quiet alone, I took the comfort he offered me. The choice I loved, loved me. That was all there was, really. All in the world I needed to know. You will not go in there. The woman, the doctor, they have brought her quiet again. I am going in. I will kill any or all of you who stand in the way. Move. Move! There! Anyone else want his head bashed in? Good. We'll make a real mess of things, won't we? Come on. I like to crack skulls. What's the matter? Come on. Keep me from that door. Make one little move and I'll tear you loose. Men of honor, I see. Where is she? Don't let him. Don't let him try to kill me again. Look at her. Look at all of you crawling, shrinking cowards. What are you, gentlemen? You make me sick, all of you. I killed him, you know. He was a gentleman. Dear, gentle Allen. He won't be with us anymore. Oh, please. Please, somebody do something. Easy now. Somebody will. Come on. Oh, no. Allen. I'll tell you, Joyce, what I told him. And you must take this comfort to your heart. Allen, the man you loved, loved you very much. He didn't know this other self ever existed. There were faces all around me. A wall of faces, senseless, staring faces. And beyond them, a strange girl wept softly. All strangers, strangers staring at me. And I stared back at the wall. Under the direction of Norman MacDonald, Escape has brought you The Dark Wall by Kathleen Hite, starring John Danaer with Joyce McCluskey. Featured in the cast were Ben Wright, Edgar Berrier, Nestor Paiva and Pritzfeld. Your announcer, George Walsh. The special music for Escape is composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Next week. You are in a farmhouse on the southern coast of England. The autumn countryside around you desolate and bleak. And you know that in the dusk outside waiting patiently for you, silently watching for you, is an enemy from whom there may be no escape. So listen next week when Escape brings you Daphne du Maurier's story, The Birds. A reminder for drama and adventure fans, two of CBS radio's best-known thrillers, Gangbusters and Gunsmoke, both heard Saturday nights, will be moving to Monday evenings on most of the same stations after this Saturday's performances. Follow the latest crime clues and true crime-smashing drama on Gangbusters this Saturday night. And don't miss U.S. Marshal Matt Dillon's latest Western adventure on Gunsmoke the same evening. Then after this Saturday, remember to listen for them both on their new night starting next Monday, July 5th. Listen while you work. Enjoy Argyle Sunday, Monday through Friday on the CBS Radio Network.
