The Second Siege by Henry H. Neff Read Free Book Online Page B

too
    No, you can’t be mine and someone else’s, too
    Upon second glance, Max saw that the third singer did indeed resemble Mum but was bigger by a foot in every direction. Five feet tall with patchy gray skin, this hag boasted a belly so taut and swollen she was reduced to wearing her apron like a smock, its untied strings wagging at her sides as she shook her formidable bottom in time to the music. Adding the oregano to the sauce, she clapped her hands as the song came to a close.
    “Ah, that’s the good stuff,” said the hag. “Ella was brimmin’ with soul, she was! Oi! Bob, you handsome devil, put this old girl to work—what’s next on the menu for the young lovelies? Soufflé? Or how ’bout I whip up my triple chocolate layer cake?”
    “You can make soufflé?” asked Bob, impressed. “Mum tries, but she peeks too soon.”
    “I do not!” cried Mum’s voice, screeching from a side pantry. A potato came hurtling from beyond Max’s view to thud dully against Bob’s chest. The ogre sighed and reached for a clove of garlic, spying Max in the process.
    “Max,” croaked the ogre as another song crackled from the radio, “come in and taste the sauce.”
    Max’s father spooned some of the bubbling red sauce onto a small slice of sourdough and Max nibbled at it. It was far and away the best sauce Max had ever tasted: rich with tomatoes and a dash of wine, and deliciously peppery.
    “That’s good,” he concluded, his stomach rumbling once again. “That’s, like, incredibly good!”
    “Hooray, hooray!” The enormous hag clapped. “You’ve got good taste, my boy—no doubt a gentleman and scholar, too.”
    “Max,” said Mr. McDaniels, “I’d like you to meet Mum’s sister, Bellagrog—she arrived this morning. Bellagrog, this is my son, Max.”
    The hag’s little red eyes peered intently at Max before she scuttled forward to seize him by both hands. Like Mum, her grip was soft and clammy but tight as a vise.
    “Bellagrog Shrope at your service, my love—but call me Auntie Mum!” she crowed, looking him up and down. “Well, you’re a handsome lad, ain’t ya?”
    “Thank you, ma’am,” said Max, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle out of her grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”
    The hag patted Max’s hand as she glanced sideways at Mr. McDaniels.
    “Father and son as good-lookin’ a pair as I’ve set eyes on this past age,” she said. “And, eh, where’s the missus, if I might be so bold?”
    Max looked with interest at his father to see how he would answer. Bryn McDaniels had been missing for more than three years and Mr. McDaniels refused to acknowledge that she was probably dead. Mr. McDaniels cleared his throat.
    “Can’t find her,” he said with a sad shrug and a crooked smile. “If you see her, you be sure to let me know.”
    “Not on your life!” said Bellagrog with a bawdy laugh, smacking Mr. McDaniels on the behind with a wooden spoon. “You’re on the market again, honey.”
    Max grinned as Mr. McDaniels flushed pink and managed a chuckle.
    Mum came hurtling out of the side pantry, looking panicked.
    Hurrying over, Mum wedged herself between Mr. McDaniels and Bellagrog, standing on her tiptoes in a futile attempt to look the larger hag in the eye.
    “You’ve had a long trip, Bel,” panted Mum. “Very long, and you must be tired. Take a nap in my cupboard, why don’t you?”
    “Aren’t you a sweet one, Bea?” said Bellagrog, pinching Mum’s cheek. “I don’t reckon I could fit, love. Imagine this great big place, and you’re holed up in a little cupboard! Bwahahahaha! I wish Nan were still alive to see it!”
    “What’s wrong with my cupboard?” sniffed Mum, sinking back on her heels.
    “Nothing, Bea,” chortled Bellagrog. “Fits your personality, it does. Had no idea my baby sis was livin’ so high this side of the pond or I’d have looked her up a long time ago!”
    “So you had no trouble finding Rowan?” asked Max, mindful of David’s