The Legend of Youngs Corner XXI

PART XXI
The Horse Medicine

A large knock was heard against the wall.
“Hey, what’s taking so long?” the voice asked. It was Nico.
“We’re on our way out,” Bob said.

Nick, Gaeten, Bob and I made our way through the stacks of locked chests to the windows through which we entered. Scattered amongst the ledges of the windows were many miscellaneous items. Most of it was just old cigar boxes, some dead bugs, etc. But in the corner, on the ledge of the farthest window, was a small, cardboard box.
“Hey wait,” I said, “let’s check that out.”

We walked over quickly, still eager to be leaving this strange residence, and stood before the window. I reached up and grabbed the box. It was in the shape and size of a cigarette packet, rectangular and with a flip-lid at the top. However this box was cut in half, diagonally, as if someone laid the box on a table, and with a large blade, sliced the box from the top left corner to about midway on the right side. The front cover of the box had a color illustration of a man, along with a title in large, red font. “Dr. A. C. Daniels Horse Colic Drops.”

The contents, amazingly, were still preserved inside. There was an instruction manual, along with a pipette, and a small vile filled with red liquid and plugged with a cork.
“Hand me those instructions,” Nick said. I handed them to him and he proceeded to unfold the paper. He began to read the sections aloud.
“ ‘Give well back in the mouth of the animal 30 drops of the syringe full of No. 1, then in eight or ten minutes give same dose of No. 2, and so continue, giving first No. 1, and in eight or ten minutes No. 2, alternately, until the horse is relieved. See other side of box for further directions. Keep the Horse as Quiet as Possible.’ Nick finished with the description. “What the hell! Are you mad! How do you stick your hand down a horse’s throat, and expect to keep him quiet?!” The description did seem a bit unbelievable, but then again, the existence of this cabin was exactly that.
“Check the box,” Gaeten suggested, “see if there’s a date.” I took Gaeten’s advice and looked at the bottom of the box. It read: ‘Processed at Chicago, IL. Registered 1906.’ My face lit up.
“1906! Why is it still here? WHAT is it doing here?!” I exclaimed. It just didn’t seem to make sense.
“Well I guess this would fit with all those horse posters we saw in the locked cabin,” Bob said.
“Point,” I agreed, “But still, posters are one thing, this is entirely different. This is horse cough medicine in a place where there are no horses. We’re on a giant hill in the middle of the woods! How deep does this woman’s obsession with horses go?”
None of us could answer, of course. It simply added to the eeriness of the situation, and the dreadfulness of this entire experience. We decided to finally leave, so we helped one another through the window. We were finally free…or so we thought.