Read Online The Witch by Mary Ann Mitchell - Free Book Online

do.”
    “Witches might be cooking at the chili place and putting in snot and all kinds of icky things. Maybe even nerves and ground bones.”
    Jacob himself started to be put off by eating out. He figured he may have taken this too far. He wanted Stephen to eat healthier meals, but he enjoyed the occasional luxury of going out.
    “There are people who inspect restaurants, and they wouldn’t permit a witch to cook in the kitchens.”
    Stephen wrinkled his nose.
    “Maybe I don’t like eating chili anymore.”
    “Once in a while it’s okay. Sometimes we have to be brave and adventurous.”
    “I’d rather take my chances on the jungle gym.”
    “Then who will I eat with when I want chili?”
    “Dad, remember how Mom made you stop smoking, and you finally told her that you were glad she did, even though you were cranky for a while?”
    “No, Stephen, you’re not going to ask me to stop eating chili.”
    “Well, at least don’t eat witch’s chili. Maybe we can make chili at home. That’s what we can do tomorrow, make chili.”
    “The last time we cooked together all we made was a mess, and we ended up going out to the chili place. Remember?”
    “Mom said people have to practice over and over again before they can do anything well. She made me …” Stephen paused.
    “She made you what, Stephen?”
    “Help her in the basement.”
    “You mean cleaning the basement?”
    “Sometimes,” he said, avoiding answering the question directly. He remembered the box covered with uglies and the candle wax that when dripped on each ugly brought them to life.
    “I guess I should go down and clean up the basement myself. No one has been down there in ages. Maybe we could sweep out the basement tomorrow.”
    “No, Dad. Mom wouldn’t want that.”
    “You’re right. Tomorrow we should go outdoors and enjoy the day. Maybe even live dangerously and have chili again.”
    Stephen shrugged.
    “Oh, Stephen, I didn’t mean to turn you off chili completely. I just wanted to suggest that you eat more of the meals I make and not pick at your plate so much.” Jacob used his fingers to quickly squeeze the tip of Stephen’s nose. “And if you want to try making chili sometime, that’s fine with me. We’ll make a big pot and invite Grandma over. How ‘bout that?”
    “I don’t think she’ll clean up after us, Dad.”
    “If she wanted to, I wouldn’t stop her.”
    Stephen laughed.

Chapter
17
    The demons in the basement tried hard to stretch their limbs, but they could only reach so far, and then the box pulled them back. One demon moped in a far corner, depressed by how slow-witted the child appeared to be. The mother may have been wrong to pass her powers on to the child. The demon felt the coldness of death and knew the mother had returned. Her shadow passed close to the box, and the demon could feel her eyes rest upon him.
    What a shame she had not produced better stock, the demon thought.
    “He is strong. He will free all of you, but he needs time. Time to understand my death. Time to recapture the dizzy feel for magic. Time to cut himself off from those who grip him tightly in the base world in which he exists.”
    “Time is not our friend,” said the lone demon. “We need action now. We need a taste of his blood to give us strength. A taste of his flesh to gain in wisdom. Instead we are dusty and slow. We are in the human’s world but not free to experience the terror they have of us.”
    “He is too young,” shouted out a malformed bird of prey who had pushed his way closer to the lone demon. “He is not sincere. He merely played at learning. He copied you, Mother, only by rote but didn’t feel the exhilaration and sweetness of the evil we carried with us.” “Don’t speak of my son. Speak of your new conjuror.” “He can’t conjure one of us. He may be able to free us, but he’ll never bring another of our kind into his world. He carries too much fear with him. Too much goodness. His magic would