Transcript
Margaret Killjoy (0:00)
This is an I Heart Podcast.
Dr. Leslie (0:04)
A life that's carefree needs hair that's worry free. Have both with MORI reduce shedding and thinning in as little as 12 weeks with clinically proven all natural MORI nourishing hair care products. Others containing sulfates, parabens and GMOs can actually weaken your hair over time. You can look great for holiday photos. Still not sure we get it. So right now purchase Mori at 50% off while it lasts and take a quiz for a custom hair care recommendation@moerie.com results can var Maury is not a substitute for medical advice. See website for more. This is the story of the One As a custodial supervisor at a high school, he knows that during cold and flu season, germs spread fast. It's why he partners with Grainger to stay fully stocked on the products and supplies he needs, from tissues to disinfectants to floor scrubbers, all so that he can help students, staff and teachers stay healthy and focused. Call 1-800-GRAINGER, click grainger.com or just stop by Granger for the ones who get it done.
Narrator (Havoc Town teaser) (1:07)
There's a vile sickness in Amber's Town. You must excise it, dig into the deep earth and cut it out.
Aaron Manke (1:17)
From iheart Podcasts and Grim and Mild from Aaron Manke. This is Havoc Town, a new fiction podcast set in the Bridgewater Audio universe, starring Jewel State and Ray Wise. Listen to Havoc town on the iHeartRadio app app Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts.
Dr. J (1:35)
I love that you created this system that revolves around you, creating pockets of peace. World Mental Health Day is around the corner, and on my podcast, just heal with Dr. J, I dive into what it really means to care for your mind, body and spirit. From breaking generational patterns to building emotional.
Margaret Killjoy (1:54)
Capacity, I'm going to walk away feeling like, yes, I'm going to continue my healing journey.
Dr. J (1:59)
Listen to just heal with Dr. J from the Black Effect Podcast Network on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Margaret Killjoy (2:10)
Cool Zone Media Book Club Book Club Book Club Book Club. I've never gotten to do this booky thing before. That's not true. I've probably done it every October, but I don't remember it because why would I remember doing something cringey? Although, as they say, only the cringe are free. That shouldn't be our tagline here at Cool Zone Media Book Club, but it kind of could be. Except actually, I would say that this week's story isn't cringey at all. It's just good. I'm the one who's cringy. I'm your host, Margaret Killjoy. This is the only book club where you don't have to do the reading because I do it for you. There might be other book clubs where you don't have to do the reading because someone else does it for you, but it's not this one. Also, sometimes I resent my own choice in using that tagline because while having a story read to you is different than reading, it's like not so fundamentally different than reading. I listen to a lot of audiobooks and I tell people I read those books because you know what? Every single word of them went into my brain. And what is reading besides having words go into your brain? Anyway, we're gonna do some horror stories this month and this is one of them. Okay, one more time. That's how you're supposed to do Spooky. Okay, first up this week we have a story called Kushtuka and it's by Matilda Zeller and it first appeared in the 2023 collection never whistle at an Indigenous Dark Fiction Anthology. It is a creature feature and a slasher centering around a figure, the Kushtuka, which is common in the folklore of people native to so called Alaska. And as for what the creature is, I will let Matilda explain that to you in a second in the story. And it is a spooky story and heads up that not everyone's going to make it out. You could probably guess that there's a little bit of gore, mostly off camera. I'll probably be doing more content warnings than usual for Spooky Month because I don't know, whatever. People of different ages and different desires of listening to things listen to things. I'm squeamish and this one was alright for me. As you listen, you should keep an ear out for what Mathilda is doing with perspective. And now Kushtuka by Matilda Zeller. You don't have to love him, just make his baby, mama said, hanging the fleshy swath of salmon to dry. It might have colored eyes, you know, maybe blue eyes. He'll pay you to keep quiet about it. Mama had always been Machiavellian, but this was next level. Not even the old ladies who gossiped about her would have guessed she'd try to pull something like this. I shuddered and slid my knife up the side of another salmon, severing a long fillet of red flesh and silver scales. The cold wet flesh reminded me of Hank Ferriman's lips, which he constantly licked while talking to us village girls. His hands were wide and still stubby, his cheeks were pocked and ruddy, and his breath smelled like a caribou carcass that had been left out in the sun for a week. He's rich, Mama reminded me unnecessarily. And I'm sure he wouldn't be wanting his wife back in Kansas, knowing he's got a kid up here. The money could really help, you know. He's probably got kids all over the Kobuk Valley, I muttered. And I don't want to make anyone's baby. Except maybe Panas. But even then that's not happening until after I finish college, which costs money that we don't have, which is why this conversation is happening in the first place. I brought down my knife too quickly through the fillet and caught the side of my thumb. Blood blossomed along the cut and I brought it reflexively to my mouth, the taste of my blood mingling with the fishes. Mama sucked her teeth. Stupid girl. Go inside and clean that up. You're getting blood everywhere. The cut stung, but it was a way out of this conversation and away from Mama. I jogged back to the house, pressing my jacket sleeve around the cut, which extended from the tip of my thumb down the side of my palm. Not wanting to take the pressure off it, I kicked the door with my toe. It was Panna, not my Anna, who opened it. My heart fluttered a little despite having known him my whole life. What are you doing here? He grinned that perfect grin, complete with deep set dimples and one eye tooth missing. Having tea with your Ana? Why? Not that I minded, but he was supposed to be on shift in the mines. There was an accident down at the mines. Frankie and Aklock and a couple of the white guys, too. You know, the ones visiting from Kansas. Which white guys? Maybe one was Hank Ferriman. Maybe Mama would leave me alone. Then Jim and Bob. They all survived, but they're in really rough shape. Had to be flown to Fairbanks. Oh, my heart sank a little. How did they get hurt? Panna's face darkened. Maybe you should come inside. Anna waited on the overstuffed chintz sofa, her dark eyes smiling at me from their nests of deep wrinkles. She was aged but ageless. I swear she hasn't changed since I was four years old. It was Sedna, anna said by way of greeting. She's the mistress of the underworld. And they're mining into her domain. Hana shook his head. The foreman said it was a bear or Maybe some wolves. A bear and maybe some wolves, anna repeated, cackling. He didn't even see what happened. He is throwing guesses into the dark. I sat down next to Panna. Sedna is mythology, Anna. Sedna is angry, anna interrupted. They're coming uninvited and taking what's ours. They don't belong here in our land, in our beds. She clutched her jaw tight, swallowing hard. But Sedna is gracious enough to give warning. She only tore their guts out. A wolf or bear would have stayed to eat the guts. They wouldn't be alive in the hospital right now if it weren't for her grace. I turned to Pana, my own innards tightening. Their guts were torn out. Pana nodded. Torn up across the abdomen. Torn up everywhere, in fact. I raised a skeptical eyebrow. And they're saying it was wolves. Panna shifted defensively. If they weren't saying it was wolves, you know who they'd be accusing? Us. All of us. I nodded my head. What did you do to your hand? Anna said, reaching for me with one hand and smacking Panna's knee with the other. Panna, why didn't you see? She's hurt. Go get the bandages. Panna jumped up to get them. He didn't need to ask where. He knew my house as well as I did. As soon as he was out of the room, Anna leaned towards me. He wants to marry you, you know. I sighed. I know. Panna had been saved last year by a visiting preacher and was now determined to marry me before I moved in. Common law marriage was what basically everyone else did. But not Panna. No. He wanted to go to a little white chapel and promise God he'd love me first. Your grandfather married me first, anna reminded me, smiling. I know, I repeated. I'd heard the story a million times. How he'd waited and saved until he could take Grandma and Eddie, her baby from a visiting schoolteacher, all the way out to Fairbanks for a marriage and adoption. He'd wanted to do it properly, he said. She thought it was stupid at the time, but it had grown to be a major point of pride with her. I wasn't sure I saw the point. It was a lot of money, but Panna cared about doing it that way. And I cared about him. Panna returned with the first aid kits and pulled my hand into his lap, gingerly unwrapping it from a jacket sleeve. I'm taking Hank Ferriman's boy hunting this weekend, he said, pouring some iodine onto a bit of gauze. Hank says he wants him toughened up out there on the tundra. I rolled my eyes. Panna and his crew would do no such thing. Not if they wanted repeat business. They would take the kid out there, make him feel like a big tough hunter while doing all the actual work of packing things, unpacking things, and hauling things. And he would have stories to take back to his buddies in Kansas. It was about the kid's ego, and the dad's, too. I'm sure he'll shoot the biggest caribou known to man, I said. With razor sharp teeth. Panna grinned. By the time he gets back to Kansas, he'll have turned into a polar bear that he killed with his own bare hands, added Anna, her face splitting into a wide grin, revealing teeth worn down by years of leatherworking like this. Her hands made violent strangling motions. Panna and I melted into a fit of giggles, as if we were both 10 instead of nearly 20. Pana finished my hand and I stood reluctantly here with him, with my Ana. This was my heart's home. Outside that door lay wolves and bears and Hank Ferriman and Mama. When I returned to Mama, she was smiling. You have a job this weekend? A job with Hank Ferriman. He's having a party at his lodge. He needs hired help. You know, cooking, cleaning. A curdling feeling gathered around my ears. Why don't you go work for him? It was a stupid question that we both knew the answer to. Mama rolled her eyes. I already told him you'd go. You're going. No. No. Mama's hand tightened on the knife she was holding. I did my best not to look down at it. My heart trilled like it was trying to beat for three people. I don't want to. To my surprise, Mama's grip loosened on the knife and she shrugged. Maybe I'll send Esther then. My mouth went dry. Esther was my 15 year old sister. My sweet, compliant sister. Mama wouldn't. She couldn't. As I stared at her, though, I knew she would. I'll go. I picked up my ULU and rocked it across the salmon, chopping its head. That's what I thought, mama replied. Some days I hate her. But do you know what we don't hate? You're a Cool Zone Media Book Club. We don't hate all of our advertisers. That's right. Not all of them. In fact, you can play a game called Listen to these ads and decide which ones you hate. Or you could skip them. I don't actually care.
