The Evil Wizard Smallbone Read Online Free PDF Page B

be.
    “Well, if that don’t beat the Dutch!” The old man —
the evil wizard
, Nick reminded himself — glared at him from the door. “It’s past noon!”
    Nick looked at him blankly.
    “I want my lunch!” Smallbone said. “You can cook, can’t you?”
    Nick almost laughed. There hadn’t been a lot of cooking in Uncle Gabe’s house since Nick’s mom died, just lots of cold cuts and frozen dinners, Dinty Moore stew, and SpaghettiOs out of a can. “I can’t do anything.” He gave the old man a sly look. “Maybe you should let me go home.”
    “Not a chance.” Smallbone sat in the rocker and got out his pipe. “Behind that door is a larder. Pull out some potatoes, some onions and carrots, and a head of cabbage, and I’ll tell you how to make a New England boiled dinner.”
    Nick wanted to tell Smallbone what he could do with his New England boiled dinner, but the spider episode was fresh in his mind, and he was hungry. Under Smallbone’s direction, he peeled and chopped, filled a big pot with water, and put it on the stove to heat. Then he opened the refrigerator to get out the corned beef and saw a large glass jar full of round white things floating in a cloudy liquid.
    His stomach lurched. “What’s
that
? Eyeballs?”
    “Pickled eggs,” Smallbone said. “The eyeballs’re in the freezer. I wouldn’t eat what’s in the striped bowl, either, unless you got a taste for beetles. And don’t touch that package there. That’s powdered frog.”
    Nick found the corned beef and put it in the pot, then made sandwiches with the pickled eggs and mayo while Smallbone smoked and commented on his progress.
    When the sandwiches were made, Smallbone shook the plug out of his pipe and stood. “I like my supper at six.” He took a sandwich and headed for the door, pausing to say, “I expect you’ll have the shop clean by then,” before he disappeared.
    Nick didn’t intend to clean the shop. He was done with Evil Wizard Books, and he was done with Smallbone. Warmth and sausages didn’t make up for knowing he might get turned into a bug if he messed up. He looked at the clock — two thirty, plenty of time to put some miles between him and Evil Wizard Books before dark. He didn’t know exactly where he was, but there was bound to be a town nearby, or a gas station, or an antiques shop — somewhere with a telephone and a TV and no wizards, evil or otherwise.
    There was a slightly moldy ham and half a loaf of bread in the larder. Mutt and Jeff watched with drooling interest as Nick made sandwiches and found a large checked napkin to wrap them in.
    He’d miss Mutt and Jeff — Tom, too. He’d never had a pet before. His mom had brought home a kitten once, a fluffy tortoiseshell scrap of fur with big yellow eyes. Uncle Gabe had grumbled, but he’d given in. The kitten had lasted about a week, sleeping on Nick’s pillow, lapping milk, playing with pieces of string. And then it was gone. Mom said it must have run away, but Nick was pretty sure Uncle Gabe had gotten rid of it.
    The dogs followed Nick into the mudroom and watched, eyebrows twitching, as he dug out boots, peacoat, woolly muffler, and mittens and put them on. It seemed wrong to leave without saying good-bye, so, feeling kind of foolish, he knelt down and rubbed their velvety ears while they whined and licked his face. Then the cats arrived, clearly wondering what the fuss was about. Tom joined the lovefest, but when Nick tried to pet Hell Cat, she hissed and swiped at him with open claws. She missed.
    It was time to go.
    Anxious to avoid walking all around the house, Nick tiptoed through the shop to the front door, his skin twitching with the sense that he was being watched by unseen, angry eyes. Nothing stopped him, though, not even the animals. The door was unlocked and failed to creak when he opened it.
    Outside, the sky was gray as a dirty sheet. A freezing wind tossed dry snow from the drifts against the house and bit at Nick’s throat and