Short Stories

Grandma's Cookbook 1

I flip through my old cookbook. I got it from my grandma not long before she died. It's one of my most precious things, even though I've never used it before. My grandmother cooked the best meals and she once told me her secret. She took me aside and showed me the book.

"All the secrets are in this book, my love. This contains everything you need to know." She said to me. It is a weird way to talk about a cookbook, but she was just very passionate about her cooking.

I finally find a recipe I like. It was named 'Cricket Chicken Soup'. I don't know why it has 'Cricket'. It was probably something weird my grandma did.

I start gathering the ingredients and luckily I have everything at home. To be honest, I am not the best cook the world has seen and I sincerely hope I wouldn't set the kitchen on fire.

While reading the first few steps I grab a pot to boil some water in.

"For the Cricket Chicken Soup you will have to boil 1,5 litres of water." I read out loud.

"While the water warms up, you will need to chop up the herbs and vegetables. Keep them aside until the water is boiling. Okay grandma, please don't let me set the kitchen on fire."

I chop up the herbs and vegetables like said.

"Well grandma," I whisper for myself. "Thanks for watching over me. I didn't even set the kitchen on fire. Yet."

I put the herbs and veggies in the pot, as said, and read the next step.

"Let it boil for 10 minutes. It should smell like soup already. Then stir six times clockwise, six times counterclockwise and another six times clockwise. Say 'Cricket, Cricket! Chicken Soup!' out loud."

I frown, wondering why it has to be stirred so specifically, but more because of the Cricket, Cricket part. Shrugging my shoulders, I do what is written.

My grandma was weird, but her cooking was amazing, so maybe it worked.

I wait the ten minutes and return to the soup. Then I stir. Six times clockwise, six times counterclockwise, six times clockwise. I sigh, look up from the soup and in a bored tone I say "Cricket, Cricket. Chicken soup."

Nothing happens. I look back at the soup, wondering why I thought something would happen.

"Well grandma. I think your book was somehow bullshit after a-"

I am interrupted by a loud bang. I turn around and see someone standing in the middle of my kitchen. Or what is left of it. Pots and pan lay all over the floor between shards of glass and wood splinters. I jump towards the book, flipping through it as fast as I can, trying to find something that would explain this madness.

I look over my shoulder and the person standing there seems not only furious, but is also a demon.

Wait a second.

A demon?!

"How? How were you able to summon me?!" They scream.

I stand in the corner, still flipping through the cookbook, while I scream: "I don't know! You were supposed to be chicken soup!"

As I flip around the last page I read: "DO NOT SUMMON CRICKET."

"Oh shit." I say. "I think I just summoned Cricket."