Don't Tell Alice Part 1, Chapter 1: Oh, and One More Thing
Alice Isn't Dead
April 13, 2026
I'm back out on these roads all right. Written by Joseph Fink Performed by Jasika Nicole Sound design and music by Disparition Logo by Rob Wilson A production of Night Vale Presents
Speakers Jasika Nicole, Jeffrey Cranor
SPEAKER_1 (0:02)
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SPEAKER_2 (0:31)
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Jasika Nicole (1:16)
I need to tell you another story. A different kind of story. Less triumphant, less self-righteous. Because in my first story, Alice was the one who did wrong. Vanishing from my life. Leaving behind only mourning and memory. And I was the one who found her and forgave. That was my first story.
Come on, buddy. Drive your special car. There you go. Sorry. A one-car traffic jam ahead of me.
It was a voice I trusted. She said a lot of things that didn't make sense, and then... Alice, I'm sorry. But first and last, the voice gave me a warning. And something in the way she said it made me think I had better pay attention. She said, Don't tell Alice.
SPEAKER_6 (4:12)
Alice Isn't Dead, Don't Tell Alice, by Joseph Fink, performed by Jasika Nicole, music and sound design by Disparition. Part 1, Chapter 1 Oh, and one more thing.
Jasika Nicole (4:38)
I'm back out here. Some anonymous road up through remote northern Nevada. Car this time, not a truck. Told Alice it was a business trip, that the new job required them, that I kind of didn't mind because I had been missing the travel. I don't know if that part was a lie or not. Did I miss this?
There's a sign for something called Horse Canyon in 800 Feet. Tempting, but I'll have to pass. And some place called Dog Creek. Naming must be real easy out here. Just an animal and a geographical feature.
Or is it anxiety when the fear is warranted? The heat was like a thrown punch when I opened the car door. I staggered a little. The walk from the car to the bar was a struggle, and then I walked into the freezing AC inside, and it was like dunking my head under ice water. But like in a good way. Place was mostly empty. There was a Latino man in the corner, dusty work shirt, sleeves pulled up on burly arms, a cowboy hat pulled low over his face. And there was a woman behind the counter, aged somewhere between 40 and 60 The woman winked hello. Names, Lexi. What can I get you? What do you have? I said. Lexi laughed. Anything you want long as it's a hamburger, hot dog or fries. A hamburger sounds great. It didn't actually. I had been on the road long enough, eating in places like this, that I had started to dream of green vegetables, the magic food that allows your bowels to finally get back to moving. But I'd take it. She went into the kitchen. The man in the corner was disquietingly still. I found myself watching him carefully for signs of life and thought I saw breathing. If he wanted to keep to himself, that was fine by me. I wanted the same. Lexi came back with a burger that had not only onions but lettuce and tomato. It was so much nicer than I expected from whatever kitchen this relic of a bar must have had. I took a big bite. Holy shit, I said. Yeah, I know, Lexi said. Take pride in what you do or don't do it. That's what my mom always told me. She was a mess and a liar, but you know, still those lessons stick with you. I know what you mean, I said. I nodded to the man in the corner. He okay? Oh, he's always here, Lexi said. I wouldn't worry about it.
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