Free Tales From the Swollen Corpse by Sam Williams Page A

the rest outside in the smoke house.”
    “What did you do with my friend?” Ryan repeated himself.
    “I just told you.” The man now sounded a little annoyed.
    “No, you don’t understand what I am asking. Is that cumin and mint? And I think I detect a hint of cayenne.”
    “What? Ah yeah. How’d you know that? ” the man replied, obviously amused.
    “It’s my job. I have two restaurants and in my professional opinion that smells divine.”
    The burly man walked into the room looking very interested in what Ryan was saying. He held a bowl in one of his massive hands.
    “You want to try some?”
    “It would be a pleasure, please.”
    The man reached into the bowl and pinched off a piece of meat with long dirty fingernails. He placed the meat into Ryan’s waiting mouth. Ryan chewed the meat, taking his time with it.
    Then with a face of astonishment he proclaimed, “Oh my God, oh my God, that is divine.”
    The big man blushed. He had never in his entire life been so complimented. He walked into the kitchen, sat down the bowl then stood and thought. After a minute he came back, untied Ryan and introduced himself as Earl. They hit it off beautifully. Earl shared with Ryan a recipe diary he had been keeping. Over the course of two days, they experimented with Paul’s remains using Earl’s recipes and Ryan’s vast culinary knowledge, resulting in a two day gluttonous feast.
    Earl and Ryan are friends to this day. While Claudette’s is not enjoying national notoriety, it has become a very popular local spot and is famous for its savory comfort food. Ryan visits Earl almost every weekend now. He goes for the conversation, to work on new recipes and to pick up fresh meat for the restaurant.
     

The Witch in the Basement
     
    Dan sat looking out the window at the rear garden. The contrast of gray outside to the warm interior of the library made him feel like he was looking into an aquarium. He was happy being out of the cold and dreariness. During the course of the day, the gloom seemed to have slowly penetrated his flesh down to his bones.
     
    The J.K. Parks Library was donated to the city by one of its founding families almost a century before Dan was born. In its many secret nooks, countless words had been quietly read by generations. In the main hall, rows of large cherry tables sat under a cathedral like vaulted ceiling. The wooden tables looked medieval and had darkened to a mahogany hue from years of varnish.
     
    Dan spent each day after school at the library. He was supposed to study and do his homework until his mom got off work. Most afternoons were spent daydreaming and exploring. When he did sit down to read, the subjects he liked weren’t found in his school books. What did catch his interest were monsters and scary tales. He read every book he could find in the place about such things.
     
    A large leather bound book lay in front of Dan. An especially interesting find, It was a very old book about witches. It was so old, in fact, that he found it in a section of books you could not check out and take home. It was written in English, but such an old dialect that Dan felt it may as well have been a foreign language. He was enjoying the pictures; every few pages seemed to have an image of something dark and sinister. One particular image caught his interest. It showed a hag standing over a minute horned demon. She had an arm outstretched, pointing a finger; the demon stood on little hoofed feet looking up to her command.
     
    “That’s cool, what’s that book about?”
     
    Startled, Dan looked to see a freckled face looking over his shoulder. It was one of the library volunteers. He thought he had heard the librarians call him Josh but Dan wasn’t sure. He seemed to be about Dan’s age but taller and lankier. He was there every day that Dan had been. Usually, he was putting books away or standing behind the information counter.
     
    “Yeah it is cool; I think it’s about