The Apothecary

The Apothecary

By Kami Bryant

The Apothecary drove two hours from the city to the small fishing town on the Oregon Coast. She drove a ten-year-old white, non-descript American made car. The car didn’t have a single bumper sticker or fancy tires or rims and was so ordinary that it wouldn’t draw a second glance. She drove exactly the speed limit and stayed in the right lane.

She wore her thick black hair pulled back in a messy bun, jeans, t-shirt and clean white slightly worn sneakers. She was middle aged, slightly tan, without a single wrinkle and she wore no makeup. Nothing about her would clue in a bystander to the dark power that she possessed. She has been called demon, witch and even the Devil herself. But not today when she worked so hard not to attract notice. Today she was meeting her supply ship, so her outward appearance screamed ordinary.

The Apothecary parked her white mid-size Ford Taurus. She grabbed her black leather purse from where it sat on the passenger side floor board and slid out of the charcoal black interior of the car. She slipped the shoulder strap of the black purse onto her right shoulder, clicked the automatic locks of the car and then dropped the keys into her purse. She then walked down the steep concrete stairs to the shore. The wind blew the salty sea air into her face and tore pieces of hair away from her loosely held bun. She brushed the strands of hair away with the long fingers of her right hand. Her fingernails were clean, short and natural without any polish or embellishment. The only jewelry she wore were tiny silver balls in her lobes. Her body size was a size ten, her hips slim, and breasts small. She stood at an exact average five foot four inches. She didn’t wear glasses though she had several pairs that she would wear from time to time. She didn’t wear them to correct her vision but to add to the meek, mousy persona she would put on in certain situations.

She paused standing on the rocky sand and decided that she should go back and get a sweater. She didn’t feel the cold but others would. To be sure, she pulled her black cellphone out of her black purse. She tapped the weather app. Fifty-four degrees, mostly cloudy skies, winds at ten to fifteen mph. The wind was blustery and cold. The app also said there was a small craft advisory in effect until noon today. She checked the time on the phone. It was 10:13 AM. She should get a sweater.

The Apothecary about faced, and walked back up the stairs to her parked car. She dug around in the interior of her purse to find the car keys, then kit the automatic locks’ button of the keyless entry and pulled open the back door of the non-descript white car. She pulled out a navy blue sweater from the charcoal black leather back seat and dropped her purse at her feet. She pulled the navy blue sweater on over the few shades lighter cobalt blue T-shirt. Her blue socks matched her T-shirt and her denim jeans.

The Apothecary looked down at herself and wondered if the blue shirt, blue sweater and blue jeans was too monochromatic than ordinary. Maybe she should wear a grey T-shirt and navy blue hoodie for next week’s supply pickup. She shrugged and slammed the car door shut, clicking the automatic locks on the key fob. She walked across the parking lot to the concrete stairs and walked back down to the rocky sand. She stood on the sandy beach and looked out at the choppy waves in the distance. A small sailboat could be seen in the distant horizon, bouncing on the rough seas. He was here. The apothecary walked across the sand to the nearby boat dock. She walked across the slippery wooden planks that moved with the ocean’s waves. She stood there and watched the sailboat in the distance. Gulls squawked and the wind beat against her as she waited.

The vessel seemed tiny in the distance as it bounced on the choppy white waves. Slowly the ship grew bigger as it made its way to the Apothecary. Finally she could the lone figure standing on the deck of the sailboat.

The lone sailor of the 30 foot sailboat furled the sails, then steered the ship close to the dock. With docking line in hand, he jumped from the ship to the dock and quickly secured the rope to the cleat. He wore a cotton shirt and red windbreaker and light blue shorts. He was deeply tanned, barefoot, his lower legs covered in black tribal tats. His long blond curly locks messily hung to his shoulders. He wore a puka shell necklace and a pair of two foot by two foot wooden crates sat on the deck of the sailboat.

“Hello, ma’am,” said the sailor reaching, out to shake the Apothecary’s hand.

“Hello, James. Any trouble?”

“No, ma’am. All is as was discussed.”

“Good.”

“What is the place called again? Needful Things?”

The Apothecary chuckled at the comparison and then replied, “I am calling it The Apothecary Shoppe. Spelled P-P-E. Did you peek?”

“No, of course not ma’am. I wouldn’t do that.”

The Apothecary knew he had and the products had scared him.

“You carry one crate and I’ll carry the other,” said the Apothecary.

“They are really heavy, ma’am.”

“I can handle it,” said the Apothecary, her brown eyes flashing to gold.

“Of course, ma’am. I mean, just that an empty crate weighs by itself twenty-four pounds and then you add all those bottles and little jewelry cardboard boxes and those baggies of herbs…” his voice trailed off uncertainly. “They each weigh a couple hundred pounds, maybe,” he finished quietly.

“I thought you said you didn’t check the contents?”

“No, ma’am. I mean. I just assumed that’s what was in there.”

“Good thing you are a good strong lad. Let’s carry these out to my car.”

The Apothecary deftly stepped from the dock to the deck of the sailboat and lifted one wooden crate easily. She stepped back to the dock carrying the crate of supplies as if carrying a pillow. James quickly jumped to the deck, picked up the remaining crate and followed the retreating Apothecary. The duo walked the dock and to the rocky beach and back up the concrete stairs to her parked car. The Apothecary easily set down the wooden crate, reached into her black leather bag for the keys to the car and hit the key fob button unlocking the doors.

“I will move the front seats forward a bit,” she said as she flipped up the cup holder console in the back and moved the front seats ups. James and the Apothecary situated the two foot by two foot wooden crates on the charcoal leather seats. “Okay, good,” said the Apothecary.

The Apothecary reached into her black leather bag and pulled out a two inch baby deep scallop shell on a ten inch chain. She held out the necklace to James and said, “This will protect you on your many journeys.”

“Oh wow, thank you ma’am. Righteous,” he said slipping the chain over his messy blond locks.

The Apothecary again reached into the black leather bag and pulled out a thick roll of hundred dollar bills secured with a rubber band.

“And your pay,” she said.

James eyes grew wide at the wad of cash He looked around but they were alone in the parking lot. He greedily grabbed the cash and quickly stowed it in the pocket of his red windbreaker.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Okay, then. Off you go. I will email you the details of the next pickup.” The Apothecary dismissed James with a wave of her hand.

James hesitated a moment and then seemed to come to some kind of internal decision. Finally he said, “Okay, ma’am. I will look for the email. Thank you.” He turned around and walked back to the beach and his docked ship.

The Apothecary watched the young man walk away. Once he had started down the concrete stairs she reached back into her black leather bag for her cell phone. She pulled out the black smart phone and began to tap the app that would release the creature housed in the scallop shell of the necklace she had gifted the sailor. She hesitated, her hand frozen just above the screen of the phone. No, maybe not just yet. He might still be useful. The Apothecary came to her decision and then slid the driver’s seat back where it had been and took her seat behind the steering wheel.

The Apothecary drove the two hours from the Oregon Coast and to the city. Again, she abided by all the rules of the road and drove exactly the speed limit. The Apothecary made her way into the city limits and drove to the Shoppe. She parked behind the building and opened the rear car door to retrieve the supplies. She easily slid the wooden crates across the leather seats and rested the first one on the pavement and then slid the second wooden crate to rest on top of the first. James had been right, each wooden crate weighed over two hundred pounds. The Apothecary lifted both heavy crates easily balancing the two stacked one another. She pushed the car door closed with her foot. Balancing the crates in one hand, she reached into her black leather shoulder bag for the car keys and pushed the key fob button. Then she dropped her keys back into the interior of the purse and walked toward the back door of the Shoppe. The doors swung open wide magically at her approach. The Apothecary set the crates down in the store room of the Shoppe.

The Apothecary examined the wooden supply crates, she could see the stress marks on the wood where James had pried the lid open with a crow bar and then hastily re-nailed the box shut. The Apothecary shook her head, something would need to be done about James. Again, the Apothecary considered releasing the creature hidden in the scallop shell necklace she had gifted him. The Apothecary decided not yet. James has very expensive vices. The drinking, drugging, gambling and whoring would quickly deplete the roll of cash she’d given him. Probably in a few days. Then James would desperately seek her out. Greed is a very powerful motivator. James enjoyed his life on the sea, sailing around the world to port in different countries and visit their dens of iniquity. And his illegal lifestyle choices were extremely expensive. The Apothecary sighed and decided to get to work unloading. She easily pulled the tops off of the boxes, the long steel nails protesting as they were pulled from the wood. The Apothecary’s fingers elongated and grew several extra joints. Her teeth lengthened in her mouth, drawing down into sharp points and her tongue grew longer and forked. The Apothecary began shedding her disguise of normality. Her eyes no longer brown but black.

After an hour of unloading the crates, the Apothecary heard the bell ding on the front door. She brushed her hands on her denim jeans and went out to meet her customer. A petite 20 something girl stood waiting.

“Welcome to the Apothecary Shoppe. I am the Apothecary. How may I help?”

“Umm, yeah. Ummm. Well see. Umm,” the young girl stuttered, then she took a deep breath and started over. “I want to kill my sister and I want some arsenic, please.”

“Ohh,” said the Apothecary chuckling. “I think I can help you with that, Aurora.”

“How did you know my name? I didn’t tell you my name.”

“I know a lot of things, Aurora. I can help you with your problem. That’s what I do.”