Entomophobia: Entomology, #1

By Lou Yuhasz

In this short novelette set in Post War California, Sonny, Fat Doc and Chunk encounter Lovecraftian Horror when their friend Boo offers them a new experience: a drug discovered in South America that opens a door to the Great Old One Atlach Nacha.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lou Yuhasz
• Release date: Jul 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516356409

Book preview

Entomophobia

by Lou Yuhasz

Copyright Notice

©(2015)Your Name. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without the expressed written permission of the Author.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters and events in this novel are the product of the author's imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/.

Chapter One

OK, Cats: Listen up. Sonny only got one chance to tell this, and once it's down on paper, I'm gonna put it away and go get blind drunk and stupid and find a chick and that'll be it. You'll find me in a back alley in the Flatiron rolled for a five and my throat grinning a ragged red grin and you'll know I'll be glad to be rid of this pathetic vale of tears.

It starts after the war. I'd been bumming around the southwest, glad to be gone from the winters in Cleveland and happy to turn my stint in the merchant marine for a GI bill education. I was in California, soaking up the sun, catching some waves, dreaming about re-upping and getting back to Singapore or Hawaii. Just call me Ishmael, as the man says, I needs to get to sea.

I'm hanging in this bar with Fat Doc Jimmy, his lady Bobbi Jo, and Chunk, listening to some colored wail over in the corner while a skinny white kid plunks away on a beat up old guitar that can't stay in tune through a single chord. We've been drinking good old German piss from Milwaukee and loosening up a bit.

Bobbi Jo is sitting on Fat Doc's lap, one hand drumming on the table in that distracted way she had, thee other arm around Doc's waist. There was a hint of a smile on her lips, which was about all we could expect, which meant it was going to be a fine evening all the way around.

Fat Doc wasn't fat yet, and he wasn't practicing yet. We called him Doc on account of his enrolling in Med school after serving in Italy and Greece. While the rest of us were glad to be alive and having fun and studying bonemanship and the chicks, good old Fat Doc was getting all serious and growing up.

So doc was on my left, and on my right between Bobbi Jo and Me was Chunk, real name Charles Osbourne, looked about like Howdy Doody if you left him out in the rain for a month, and was about as talkative too. It was easy to forget he was there until you needed someone to rag on.

Me? I'm just Sonny. Working some construction, looking to get laid and high between gigs. I was a Seabee and could always find work so I always had too much money, and not enough sense.