ELDRITCH HORRORS: DARK TALES

Out of the Frying Pan

by Ron Shiflet

(Excerpt pp. 180-182, Eldritch Horrors: Dark Tales)

Mother Shub rose from the chair, her joints creaking with the effort. She removed the plate and utensils from the small wooden table and placed them in a big pot of water on the stove. “Boiling them is the best way to keep from getting sick,” she said, smiling.

“I guess so,” he said. “I’m not much of an expert on housework.” Not that you could call this dump a house.

Mother Shub walked to the small fly-specked window of the shack and looked out. After a few seconds, she turned and said, “I need to leave for a little bit. Just make yourself comfortable while I’m gone.”

Jake exploded from the chair, his eyes flashing. “Hold on lady, you’re not going anywhere!” Maybe now is the time to end this.

She looked at him and smiled thinly. “I didn’t figure you’d want visitors.”

“Damn straight,” he replied, his body tense.

“Well that’s what we’re going to have unless I get on over to the Aiken place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Amanda’s second child has been ailing,” she replied. “They sent for me before you arrived. If I don’t get on over there, the old man and the boys will be coming to fetch me. I don’t think you’d like that.”

No, that might lead to more trouble than I could handle.

“Why do they need you?” Jake asked. “You a doctor?”

Smiling, Mother Shub said, “I’m the closest thing to one these people can afford.”

Jake stepped forward, pointing a finger at the old woman. “What’s to stop you from getting help once you get away from here?”

“Help?” she asked. “What makes you think I need help?”

“Well . . . You might go for the sheriff if there’s one in these parts.”

Mother Shub cackled, her thin frail body shaking with the effort. “The law ain’t thought kindly of around here,” she said. Walking to a dusty shelf, she took down a corked jug and sat it on the table. She went to a small handmade cabinet and got a dime store glass and sat it by the jug. Smiling, she said, “Have a drink, Jake Higgins.”

Jake grinned and shook his head in amusement. “You’re a moonshiner?”

“Among other things,” she answered. “Whatever it takes to get by.”

Mother Shub filled the glass halfway and handed it to the man. He raised the glass to his lips and suddenly stopped. What if she’s poisoning me? “Hey, wait a minute!” he exclaimed. “You have one too.”

She grinned and shook her head. “You ain’t very trusting, are you?”

“Just cautious.”

She reached for his glass. “It’s the only clean one. Don’t mind, do you?”

Jake wrinkled his nose but said, “Go ahead.”

She drank and then handed the glass to Jake. He took it, sniffed the liquid and took a sip. The liquor was fiery but went down easily. “Damn,” he said, “this is the real deal. You made this?”

The old woman nodded and smiled. “So can you entertain yourself while I’m gone.”

Smiling, Jake said, “I’ll get by. But don’t go getting any crazy ideas because that wouldn’t be good for you or your babies.”

Jake caught the look she gave him but refrained from commenting. I touched a sore spot there. Always good to know what to use as leverage. He watched the woman gather some items from the jar-laden shelves and place them into a burlap feed sack. When finished, she turned to him and said, “I’ll be back directly.”

Jake nodded and lifted his glass to her. “Fine. Just remember what I told you.”

“Oh, I’ll surely remember, Jake Higgins.”

(...)

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TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Paul S. Kemp:
One Thousand and One Words

W. H. Pugmire
Recompense of Sorrow (brand-new Sesqua Valley!)

Ron Shiflet
Out of the Frying Pan

Don Webb
The Jest of Yig

Gary Hill
Rest in Peace, Jeremy Randall

Simon Bleaken
Ashanna's Whispers

Leigh Blackmore
The Return of Zoth-Ommog

Thomas Strømsholt
Devouring Darkness Hovers

Benjamin Szumskyj
A Haunting From Beyond

Linda Navroth
The Specimen

Dan Clore
The Dying God

Blake Wilson
The Door to Nowhere

Paul Mackintosh
The People of the Island

Henrik Sandbeck Harksen
The Bibliophile