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Josie Ortiz was born in 1926. Cecil wasn’t aware of it. Why would he be? A baby girl is born. It’s not exactly radio-worthy news. It was 1931 before anyone other than her family heard of Josie Ortiz. She had prophesied a big event that year, one to bring the town together and, just had she’d said, a huge party for Lee Marvin’s 30th birthday had everyone in town celebrating together. Little Josie became a small feature of the town, her prophecies small and mostly unimportant but always true. She also developed an interest in magic and frequently performed tricks for citizens at public events, like the 1934 New Year’s eve party, and every year at Lee Marvin’s 30th birthday party. Despite her small fame and integration with the community she never prophesied for Cecil, not once. He even asked her on air about her prophecies and how she comes to know them, but she simply shook her head. Cecil had very little contact with Josie as a child, yet Josie seemed to know everyone in the town and talk to all of them. All except Cecil.
On her 16th birthday, Josie Ortiz’s family were killed in a car crash while she was at school. Everyone in town offered to take her in, to help her get through this tragic event, but she shunned them all. Josie stopped giving prophecies to people and stopped performing magic. She began going bowling, though, and Cecil was thrilled because they were on the same team and she was finally acknowledging him. In fact, she talked lots with him, not only at bowling but at her house, and at his apartment. He became a confident.
Cecil climbed the stairs slowly, worn out from a confusing day’s news. As he approached his door he heard a noise from inside the apartment, a soft whimper. Not in the mood for any more confusion that day he opened the door wide. Josie was sat on the sofa, her head in her hands, breathing deeply and looking for all the world like she might be drowning. “Josie?” He stepped into his apartment and closed the door before moving to sit next to the woman. “What can I do?” He asked. 'What’s wrong?’ is to be avoided when a person is in a hole this deep. 'What’s wrong?’ can come later. She shook her heard and buried her face into his shoulder. He sat still, breathing calmly with a hand on her back. That was the first time.
After that, Josie would show up about once a month like this, drowning. Sometimes she would talk about things she’d seen, in her prophecies. Other times it would be her parents. Sometimes she wouldn’t talk at all. She’d dedicated herself to the Old Opera House, trying to raise money to rebuild it. Her whole life, it seemed to Cecil as it had gone so quickly, had been dedicated to that opera house. She was middle aged now, but still had so much to give, so much to achieve. Her bowling skills were top notch, and as the world was ending he couldn’t help but think about how she would never-
The tall, dark figures arrived at the start of 1984. Cecil didn’t notice them. The townsfolk didn’t pay them much attention, but they were there. Josie came to him less, after that, and when she did she spoke of angels, which of course made Cecil very uncomfortable because angels are not real, but he was happy. Old Woman Josie had found a way to be happy, a something that wasn’t purely that Opera House. She still worked on it, still tried to raise money, but now she was back in the town. She spoke with others more, not to make prophecies but to act as a grandmother. Cecil wondered now why Josie hadn’t had any children of her own. At least, he didn’t think she did. He didn’t know, he didn’t- What was Josie’s last name? That’s not important! He told himself, laughing. But when was she born? What year did he say? He couldn’t remember… When was he born? Who was he? Is he the same person as he’s always been? No, no one is. We are all different than who we were before, and different than who we’ll become in the future. Cecil was confused as he lay, somewhere dark and vaguely familiar, and whispered 'Good night, Night Vale. Good night’ to no one in particular.