Action Pulp!

Mom’s spaghetti

By Adam Messer

Mom used to always say to look out for traffic, eat my veggies, do my homework, take out the trash. You know, typical Mom stuff.

She always kept the house clean, made us lunches for school, and made my favorite meat sauce for spaghetti.

Years later, I was cooking a spaghetti dinner, but never quite got it the same as Mom. I called Mom to ask her what the secret ingredient was for her meat sauce, but she would always be coy with me, giggling and joking around that it was for her to know, and for me to find out. We would laugh and I told her I would get her to tell me the secret ingredient one day.

Several years later, Mom was killed suddenly by a drunk driver who ran her over while she was walking through a crosswalk. We were devastated. Had to have a closed casket funeral.

While I was sorting through her affairs, I picked up her old cast iron pot she cooked the meat sauce in. I started digging around and found a mason jar marked marinara.

Ok, now all I need is some meat. I walked over to the chest freezer and opened it up. As I dug through the mountain of frozen peas and carrots, I noticed a large black plastic bag that looked like it had a bowling ball in it.

I grabbed the bag and set it on the counter. As I opened the black trash bag, there were several layers of plastic wrap, so I grabbed a pair of scissors.

After I made the first cut, a frozen tuft of matted black hair poked out. To my shock and horror, there was the frozen head of a young man staring back at me.

After the police poured over the entire house, they discovered a hidden room with old clothes, shoes, belts and pocket wears like wallets and watches.

The detective handed me an envelope she found addressed to me.

Dear Rachel,

As you know by now, I have held a dark secret for a long time. I had hoped to stop after you grew up, but I just could not find anything that matched the flavor for my meat sauce.

Now you know my secret ingredient. I love you and hope you may one day forgive me for the monster I became.

Love,

Mom

© 2026 Adam Messer. All rights reserved.

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