 That's the theme from the Sears Radio Theater. Tonight, a program of mystery with Vincent Price as your host. Here's a preview. If you've got a gang of good old boys ready to run you out of town on a rail. Why? What did I do? Your mom will read his grandmother. What's wrong with that? Nobody told you she was a witch. The Sears Radio Theater will begin after this message from your local station. This is Vincent Price. We are on a lonely stretch of highway in southern Louisiana, southwest of Baton Rouge, not far from Plaquemind and Broe Bridge, Napoleonville, and a little farther west, the thriving community of Lafayette. As you may have guessed, we are in that exotic area a several long ago by people of French ancestry, an area sometimes called Cajun country. The land is marked by moss-covered trees, lush green foliage, and countless miles of bayous, small rivers with low, almost imperceptible currents that twist and bend their way past old plantations, rich farmland, and disappear into dark jungles and forests and murky swamps. Yes, there are alligators in the bayous beyond number, but there are other things even more fearful. The foley, for example, or Lucarrou, evil spirits of the swamp who can change themselves into werewolves, and whose black magic can terrorize an entire village. The car has turned onto a gravel road and paused before a sign that reads, Welcome to Mercy, Louisiana, population 205. We can see the driver consult a map. Obviously, she is a stranger in these parts. Right 10 miles to Dead Creek. Dead Creek. Next, it'll be Hangman's Harbor. Incredible. Miss Deborah Sims, an intelligent, quite attractive woman in her late 20s. She is an assistant professor of anthropology from Iowa College. She has come to the bayous to study the native folklore. On the front seat beside her is a tape recorder, a stack of loose-leaf notebooks, pencils, and a box of spare tapes. On the back seat are suitcases. Deborah Sims is coming to Mercy to complete her doctoral thesis. But before her work is done, she will encounter devils and demons no textbooks worn of, and her life will hang in the balance. And that's only the beginning of our story. Radio Theater, a new adventure in radio listening. Five nights of exceptional entertainment every week brought to you in Elliott Lewis' production of The Sears Radio Theater. Our story, Cage and Death by William Frew. Our stars, Linda K. Henning and Tommy Cook. The Sears Radio Theater is brought to you by Sears Robot and Company. Sears, where America shops. Built along the banks of the Vermilion River, 205 god-fearing souls, fishermen, farmers, a handful of merchants supplying the town's modest standard of living. There's the general store on the right, Bouchard's, and a market, the LeGrand Brothers, and a bar, Pepi's, and the gas station, which is Deborah Sims' immediate destination. We'll see you in a minute, ma'am. That's Tom Hendricks, the owner-operator of the station, a good-looking man in his mid-30s. He's filling the tank of a van, belonging to one Bobby Duque, local Nair du Well, whose major occupation is guzzling boiler makers and shooting snooker. Ma'am, see by that, there lies this place you all from Iowa. You're quite observant. Would you fill it up with unleaded, please? Oh, well, for a pretty lady like you, I surely would be obliged, even if the truth is, I don't work here. Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that you- No, no, no, no need to be sorry, ma'am. I just plain like to help strangers, especially the female kind, especially when they're from Iowa. My name's Bobby Duque. What's your sweet thing? Deborah Sims. Do you know how to get to Jed Buffams' cabin? Buffams? We're going way out there, Debbie. That's knee-deep in the bio. Jig your oil and water, ma'am. Oh, well, now, we've got the genuine owner of the establishment here to take personal care of you, Debbie. How about that? Knock it off, Bobby. Jed Buffams' place is 10 miles north of town. You turn left at Crawford Junction, about another two miles, and you're there. Thank you very much. Oh, better yet, Debbie, I just take my band out of this here, rip off, join, lead you all the way there myself. You ain't had a better offer than that all day, have you, Debbie? My name is Deborah. That's D-E-B-O-R-A. And that's an easy offer to refuse. Leave the lady alone, Bobby. That'll be $5.80, ma'am. Thank you. If I can assist you while you're in town, don't you hesitate to call on me. I'm Tom Hendricks. Hoo, hey, ain't old Tom the slick one. Tell you, Debbie, between him and me, there ain't no contest. He got the gas, but I got the class. You couldn't prove it by me. Thank you, Tom. You deserve that, Bobby. What's she doing here all of a while? Why is she going to Buffams' cabin? Maybe she wants to take a look at it. How should I know? Nobody been near that place since they fished Buffams' body out of swamp. You know, you still don't know who killed him. Alcohol killed him. Everybody knows that. I suppose alcohol bit off his leg. Doc said he was dead long before that gator took his leg. Well, I'll say you don't know. Do you see her last name was Sims? Yeah, I believe so. Well, I know so. Sims. Sims. Wasn't that the name of that old woman used to live out that way? When everybody said it was console and with the devil, he said she was a genuine witch. Mom Marie? That's it. That's it. Mom Marie, wasn't her last name Sims? Yeah. Yeah, it was. Sims. Man, this is no time for some witch's daughter to come trotting into town. Couldn't be her daughter. Mom Marie was 100 years old when she died. That would have to be her granddaughter if she's any relation at all. Yeah. Well, maybe it's a coincidence. But Mom Marie died in Buffams' cabin. Come on, ma'am. What? Oh, I didn't see you. Where did you come from? My name's Preacher Coxie. I live down the road apiece just checking things. Been some mighty funny noises coming out of Buffams' cabin in the last few nights. What kinds of noises? Well, I can hold a woman calling out. And sometimes like an animal, I wasn't about to come over here for a look until daylight. This place always did give me the heebie-jeebies. Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got unpacking to do. You're going to stay here, ma'am? That's right. Well, why on earth would anybody stay in this town? I'm doing research on the bayous, Mr. Coxie. Can you think of a better place to begin? Well, sure. There's a motel 20 miles down the road. Ain't exactly the King's Palace, but it'd be checked out of what you've got here. Mr. Coxie, to drive 20 miles a day in back, just to record what's right at my front door would seem like an enormous waste of time, wouldn't you agree? But there's got to be some place better to rent than this. Here, let me help you with that stuff. I'm not renting it, Mr. Coxie. I own it. You own Buffam's cabin? What did you say your name was? Sims, Deborah Sims. Uh, related to Mamarie. Marie Sims' granddaughter. Deborah Sims. Related to Mamarie. Marie Sims' granddaughter. Was she called Mamarie? You didn't know her? I'm sorry to say I didn't. She was my father's mother. He was killed in the Korean War when I was very young. I only know her by the letter she used to write me. Miss Sims, would you mind a suggestion from an old man? What is it? Leave here. Leave this town just as soon as you can. Why on earth would I do that? Well, folks around here feared your grandma. They say she cast evil spells, made crops turn bad, even worse than. Mr. Coxie, I'm a social anthropologist. My mother told me as much as she knew about my father's mother. But I came down here to find out more. Well, your grandma's been dead a dozen years. What's the point? I want to study the folklore and superstitions that surrounded her. Don't you see what an opportunity this is for me to have someone that colorful in my own family? Boy, you can call it colorful, ma'am. But I call it plain with fire. You see that tape recorder, Mr. Coxie? Before the week is over, I want you to promise to tell me every story you've ever heard about grandmother, okay? Well, if you really want to hear it. Oh, yes. Oh, I just know this is going to be the most memorable summer I've ever spent. Bobby, I'm closing up early today. Come on, Bobby. Finish what you was telling us. Yeah, I want to hear it. All I know is what I say, Gus. Tape recorder in the front seat, two cases in the back. Looks like the woman's come here to stay. And her name is really Sim Sim's Marmory. That's a fact, Tocco. She told me so herself. I knew Marmory. She was a luguru, and that's a fact. What kind of luguru, Gus? A werewolf. A kind can turn itself into a bird or a woman or anything it wants. A luguru can stop the rain, kill the crops, just like what's happening now. And if I didn't know better, I'd say there's one loose and mercy right now. The only thing loose and mercy, Tocco, is the screws that are supposed to hold your brains together. Oh, you can laugh, Tom Andrews. Because you ain't seen what I've seen. It was Marmory who killed Chad Bofford. Oh, that's the craziest thing I ever heard. Marmory was dead 10 years when Jed Buffum drank himself to death. And when do you people invent such tall tales? My daddy said she cast a spell on him from the grave. I never saw Jed Buffum drunk a day in this year's saloon. That's the truth. I never did in a year. He drank alone. I know because I sat with the many a night helping him sweat out the DTs. Whiskey killed him plain and simple. He was a tortured soul. Yeah, tortured by Marmory. It's spooky all right. What about this girl, Tom? I don't know any more than you do. She's related to Marmory. I bet a plug nickel. She's related, all right. She's her granddaughter. Well, I'll tell you what that's about. What's more, she owns Buffum's cabin. Marmory left it to her in a will. Deborah Sims is going to be living here all summer. She's going to study the local folks. Says she'll probably want to interview some of you. What about? Well, tall tales, mostly. Superstition, Lou Garou, Fou Fouet. Things a grandma wrote to her when she was alive. Man, that is heavy. This little lady is paddling in dangerous waters, wouldn't you say, boys? You won't catch me talking to her. And I ain't letting her within a mile of my house. This and his own unnatural should want to know more about her family roots. You people are turning a granddaughter's normal curiosity into something weird. When your grandma is a witch, it is weird. Nobody ever proved that. That old woman was eccentric, and that's all you could say. Well, I say, we tell her to leave. I say, if she won't, we run her out of town. Oh, you acting crazy, all of you. And the trouble with you, Hendricks, is you don't even recognize a serious problem when you see it. She hasn't done a thing to any of you. Now, you leave her alone, and you let her do her work in peace. Oh, Tom Hendricks, ain't her fault her grandma was Marmory. But I'm going to tell you all something. Something I ain't never told nobody before. I've seen a Lou Guru. Hey, hey, hey. The night my baby took sick, still hard for me to talk about. I had to find Dark Ennis. They told me he was at Toko's house. I remember that night, my wife had pneumonia. Well, to get to Toko's, I had to pass Jed Burfman's cabin. I slowed down because I seen lights inside. But Jed had been dead over a year. And nobody had moved in since. Who could it be, I asked myself. And I seen something in the shadows. Looked like an animal, but it walked on two legs, and I heard a voice calling me Marmory's voice. What did she say? She said, go home. Your baby is dead. When I got home, my baby was dead. Marmory killed him. She cost a spend. It is impossible. She'd been dead 10 years. Who the heck you wonder who that is in Buffon's cabin tonight? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. What do you wonder who that is in Buffon's cabin tonight? Isn't it me? Marmory has come back againdoor honest. I wish you hadn't told that story, Gus. Frightens me. More than any of you know that, what is it Pepe? You can tell us we're your friends. Yeah, come on Pepe. Well we didn't get back. What you all know, my wife is pregnant in the ninth month. This morning, she began to get the bad pains. and we went to the doctor's office. He examined her and told her to go home and stay in bed until the baby comes. He says it will not be a normal delivery. But when we were at the doctor's office this morning, we saw the Sims woman drive into your gas station, Tom. We were both watching her when the doctor told us. Believe me, Papi, it was pure coincidence. And what would you say if my baby dies? Mama risked her life at once. You are making a mistake, all of you. Ask Papi. It's his baby he'd do any minute. Papi, I want her out of town tonight. I am warning you. If you people hurt that girl, I'm going to report you to Ed Beaumont. Come on, Tom, our local peace officers in New Orleans at the police convention and you know it. He won't be back till next week. I don't want to wait until next week. Me neither. She's got to leave. And right now. Yes. Deborah Sims has already begun her self-assigned task. Her tape recorder beside her, she paddles slowly through the bayous only a few yards offshore. Yet here, beneath the overhanging trees, the thick jungle growth, she is in another world. There, on her right, her giant crane. And over there, a water moccasin moving slowly through the dark waters. Suddenly, just beside her tiny boat, a black, scaly shape glides past, opens its jaws and the water moccasin is devoured. The alligator, at least six feet in length, is so close, Deborah grabs her paddle, but it is useless. The reptile drifts past and into the dark shadows and is gone as silently as it came. I'd like to show off what some game of disaster eats you for a midnight snack. I was recording night sounds. I've never heard such a variety of creatures. Come on now. Just take it easy. Let me have that all and I'll put you in. Here. I got it. Yeah, I just sit tight there. It was terribly exciting, really. I can't wait to get deeper into the bayous to some of the less accessible areas. Yeah, well, you just as well, Steve, put right where you are and never mind the less accessible areas. Why? Because you got a gang of good old boys ready to run you out of town on a rail. Why? What did I do? Your mom Marie's grandchild. What's wrong with that? Nobody told you she was a witch. That's nonsense. She was an eccentric old woman who liked to live alone and commune with nature. That hardly makes her a witch. As far as this town goes, she was too eccentric. Now, I tell you, sweet lady, you're one heap of trouble. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Ducay, but I'm sure... Come on, Debbie, Debbie. Bobby, same as everyone else? Very well, Bobby. And you can call me Deborah, the same as everybody else. Well, at least we're making progress. Well, let me see into your cabin. It's not necessary. You need protection, Deborah. Now, I'm not spoofing you one little bit. Those old boys figure you're a real Lou Garoo. Lou Garoo? Me? You can make fun of it all you like, but they weren't laughing down at Peppy's bar. They sent me to tell you to leave town tonight. What? They mean business, Debbie. Hey, hey, you really cleaned this place up. It's just the beginning. In a few more days, you will recognize it. Too bad you have to leave after all this work. I'm not going. Now, you listen to me, Deborah Sims. I didn't drive all the way out here just to josh with you. Now, we got the worst drought on our hands in years. The fishermen doing so poorly, they can't even make a living. We got a couple of animals that wandered off into the bios and didn't even come back. Animals in the bios? Yeah, data, probably got them. Maybe they drowned it, don't matter. Folks around here see some kind of black magic now mixed up in it. Mama Marie's kind of black magic. And they blame me? That's about it. Well, you tell them they don't frighten me and also say that I'm staying. Now, if you don't mind, it's time for me to get to bed. You'd be one heck of a lot better off right now if you didn't sleep alone here. What? Now, purely for your own protection. I'm prepared to spend the night. For your safety, doctor. Well, you can be prepared to turn right around and go home again. Now, Deborah, honey, listen. It's your best interest I'm thinking about. Now, would I drive all the way out here if I didn't want to help you? Get away from me. Come on, honey, give me a little help. Let go of me! Well, maybe you're going to like it if you don't give her some help. Don't just get warm up, honey. The best is you can come. Well, I hate to have to do this. I studied self-defense, Bobby. You gave me no choice. I'll get you for this. So help me. Do you want me to help you up? Or can you walk out under your own power? Oh, you're going to be sorry you did that. You're going to be my desire. Making crazy noises, waking me up. I didn't see anybody, Miss Sims. I've been outside for the past hour. You didn't see anyone? No, ma'am. Didn't see and didn't hear anything, either. What were you doing here? Well, Bobby and a couple of the boys were getting licked up in town. I was afraid they might drive out here and do something they could be sorry for in the morning. Then there wasn't anybody outside my window? No, ma'am. I've been here all along. Oh, well, thank you, Mr. Coxe. I really appreciate your concern. I... I guess I don't understand these people as well as I ought to. No, ma'am. This here is bio-country. Not like Iowa. Not at all. I think you ought to reconsider about leaving. They're not going to give you any peace until you do. No? No. My mind's made up. This is exactly what I came here to learn about. The fact that it's happening to me will make the experience all the more valid for my dissertation. Thank you again. I'll say good night now. Good night, Miss Sims. If you need me, I'll be out that way sleeping in the back of that old van there. Oh, yes. I see it. Good night. Good night, ma'am. I've got to record all this. It's invaluable. February 10th, second day. Tonight I was awakened by... Warner. The storage room. They gave it. Must've been dead for days. Oh, a stamp. Who would do a thing like that? Folks want you to leave, ma'am, but you wouldn't listen. Then you saw them? You saw who did it? No, ma'am, but I was in my van. They come around the back. Do you hear footsteps, voices? Anything for it to happen? No. It's a mess, all right? All that blood and rotted flesh. Lord, did they shimmy their point? No. No, I'm afraid they didn't. Ma'am? I am not leaving. Vincent Price again. And here's the concluding act of Cajun death. Right. I couldn't get to sleep. I had to take a sleeping pill. Well, I hate to wake you up with bad news. What is it? Oh, ma'am. What about it? Somebody must have done it during the night while we were both sleeping. Done what? Written that stuff all over your car. What stuff? Lou, Garou, Fou, Folay, all them French superstation words. It's a mess. Oh, no. It ain't going to be easy to clean it up, but I'll help you if you like. No, I'll take it down to the gas station. Perhaps they can help me. Well, Tom Hendricks is a good man, but even he's not apt to want to do this job. Why? It's dried hard now, but it's pretty obvious it was written in blood. What happened to your car? A souvenir left by some of your friends. Alligator blood. Mr. Cox, you and I cleaned it up as best we could, but it sure could use more work. Well, I got a young man who does cleanup jobs, but from the looks of it, it'll take him a couple of hours at least. Oh, and just incidentally, Miss Sims, the folks who did this are no friends of mine. Not Bobby Duques? No, ma'am. He's a born troublemaker. His daddy died, left him a fat bank account and one of the best plantations around. Barber hasn't done a liquor work since he left college. And the rest of his friends? Oh, they're not bad folks at heart, but times have been rough this year. Bad crops, empty fishnets, and like most people, they're looking for somebody to blame. Well, I'm not going to be their scapegoat, Mr. Hendricks. Don't blame you, Miss Sims, but sometimes you just have to accept reality. Lou Garou and Fou Foulay are reality? Maybe not to you and me, but to them they are. Take my advice, Miss Sims, leave town. You all come back in the fall maybe when things are better. My dissertation is due in the fall, Mr. Hendricks. I've put in a lot of years working for my doctorate. It means a very great deal to me. I'm not going to give it up just when I'm finally reaching my goal. I'm at your way. But if you need help, don't you hesitate to call on me. Thank you. I appreciate it, really. Now, if you'll take care of cleaning up this trick-or-treat mess, the good old boys left on my car, I'll get to work. We'll have it done by three o'clock at the latest. Thanks. I wish there were more like you and mercy, Mr. Hendricks. Well, it's mutual, Miss Sims. It's Deborah. Okay, Tom. All right. You are a fool, Deborah Sims, but a mighty attractive one. Oh, uh, I'm Deborah Sims. I'd like to talk... I know who you are. Get off my property. You're Peppy, the man who owns the bar? That's right, and you're trespassing. I just want to interview your wife. I understand she knew my grandmother. You stay away from her. Do you understand? I don't want you to come near. Oh, Mrs. Pepper? Go back inside quickly. Lin, you're for the last time. If you earn off my land within one minute, I'm going to throw you off. What do I owe you? Make it five dollars, even. All day, and not one person would talk to me. I don't understand. Ma'am, they're worried and frightened. Some of them have had to mortgage the home. Some of them haven't earned a day's wages and weeks. But I'm not to blame. Well, excuse me. Your car's over there. Tom Hendricks? Let's see. Okay. Yes, thanks. How about a town as fast as you can? Why? What happened? Peppy's wife was rushed to the hospital an hour ago. The baby was born three months ago. We've got to do something. Well, I say throw it to the gators. Right. And watch her swim. Everybody out to buff them's cabin. Get rid of her, or we'll get rid of the Lugaroo once and for all. There's a half dozen men on the way out here right now coming to get you. What? Peppy's wife give birth to a stillborn child just after you were at the house. You've got to get out of here fast. Oh, where can I go? You're getting that car using your head north with some luck you can outrun them. Meantime, I'll call the sheriff over and laugh at him. Okay. Oh, it's too late. That's them. Oh, what'll I do? Get in that rowboat and paddle yourself back into the swamps just as fast as you can. Be dark soon. It won't be easy to find you. Meantime, I'll try to stall. Well, thanks, Mr. Coxy. Oh, wait. You were the tape recorder at a time like this. Well, how'd I go? Coxy. You're fine now. She was gone when I got here. The car's still here. She couldn't have gone very far. Wait. The rowboat's gone. All right, boys. We'll start combing the swamp. She can't be very far in there. She's getting awful dark. I've got one in my truck. Well, get it. I don't like it. Going in here after that woman. It's all right. It's all right. We'll be okay. We'll stick together. Oh, it's just a hoot owl. Come on. No. I'm not sure. Neither. Hopefully. I've seen them before. Swamp devils. That's crazy. They ain't no such thing. No. I don't like it. It's too dark to make out. Who? Who's out there? My Marie is here. My Marie is near you. No. Who is it? I can't see. Listen. Listen to my creatures over the swamp. Get out of here. They'll be all right. If you are my granddaughter, if you are me, I will make you vanish in the fire who's never to be seen again. Get them out of here. Yeah. Let me go. Come on. If you ever come back to my cabin again, you will die. A voice from the past. Marie's voice. And exploding swamp lights. It was fearsome. Where's Deborah? Looks like she's coming in now. You all right, Deborah? I'm okay, Tom. Would you mind getting my tape recorder? Sure thing. That's where the sounds were coming from. Your tape. I'm not sure. The tape is stuck. Look. Working. Where did the sounds come from? And Marie's voice. I don't know, Tom. Honest. It was just there. Private. Deborah, was it you? Policy is satisfaction guaranteed or your money back. Breaker shops for value. That was written by William Frew. Produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. Your host was Vincent Price. Our stars were Linda Kay Henning and Tommy Cook. Also heard were Eddie Firestone, Barney Phillips, Lynn Berman, Carly Bayer, Don Diamond, and Lillian Bayer. The music for Sears Radio Theater was composed and conducted by Nelson Riddle. Art Gilmore speaking. The Elliot Lewis production of Sears Radio Theater is a presentation of CBI.