"Collections\Everything's Eventual\Lunch at the Gotham Caf'.txt" 430 499:I slammed the mop-bucket forward with all the force I could muster, and swept his legs out from under him. He howled and brought the knife down in a long, desperate stroke. Any closer and it would have torn off the tip of my nose. Then he landed spraddled awkwardly on wide-spread knees, with his face just above the mop-squeezing gadget hung on the side of the bucket. Perfect! I drove the mophead into the nape of his neck. The strings draggled down over the shoulders of his black jacket like a witch-wig. His face slammed into the squeegee. I bent, grabbed the handle with my free hand, and clamped it shut. Guy shrieked with pain, the sound muffled by the mop.
"Collections\Everything's Eventual\The Little Sisters of Eluria.txt" 292 84:Once, at the time he had met and fallen in love with Susan Delgado, he had known a witch named Rhea-the first real witch of Mid-World he had ever met. It was she who had caused Susan's death, although Roland had played his own part. Now, opening his eyes and seeing Rhea not just once but five times over, he thought: This is what comes of remembering those old times. By conjuring Susan, I've conjured Rhea of the Coos, as well. Rhea and her sisters.
"Collections\Everything's Eventual\The Little Sisters of Eluria.txt" 292 118:Once, at the time he had met and fallen in love with Susan Delgado, he had known a witch named Rhea-the first real witch of Mid-World he had ever met. It was she who had caused Susan's death, although Roland had played his own part. Now, opening his eyes and seeing Rhea not just once but five times over, he thought: This is what comes of remembering those old times. By conjuring Susan, I've conjured Rhea of the Coos, as well. Rhea and her sisters.
"Collections\Four Past Midnight\The Sun Dog.txt" 1847 165:"You can feel eeevil coming out of it," Eleusippus said in a voice of such portentousness that it should have been laughable, like a high-school girl playing a witch in Macbeth, but which somehow wasn't. "Destroy it, Mr. Merrill. Before something awful happens. Before-perhaps, you'll notice I only say perhaps-it destroys you."
"Collections\Hearts in Atlantis\Low Men in Yellow Coats.txt" 386 37:That lady, a grumpy old rhymes-with-witch of seventy-five or so, cried: "Boy! Youuu, boy! Get off there! You'll mash my flowers!"
"Collections\Hearts in Atlantis\Low Men in Yellow Coats.txt" 3479 414:And Carol and Bobby and Ted Brautigan saw her with that same amazed stop-time clarity: the two black eyes (Liz's right eye was really nothing but a glitter deep in a puffball of discolored flesh); the lower lip which was swelled and split in two places and still wearing flecks of dried blood like old ugly lipstick; the nose which lay askew and had grown a misbegotten hook, making it almost into a caricature witch Hazel nose.
"Collections\Hearts in Atlantis\Low Men in Yellow Coats.txt" 3567 47:Carol was looking fearfully at the hook-nosed witch who had come back in a taxi wearing Mrs. Garfield's clothes. Mrs. Garfield who had run and who had fought when she couldn't run anymore. But in the end they had taken what they wanted from her.
"Collections\Just After Sunset\A Very Tight Place.txt" 181 419:"It's a .45 AMT Hardballer," Grunwald said, "loaded with soft-point ammo. I got it the last time I was in Vegas. At a gun show. Just after Ginny left, that was. I thought I might shoot her, but I find I've lost all interest in Ginny. Basically, she's just another anorexic Suncoast cunt with Styrofoam tits. You, however-you're something different. You're malevolent, Johnson. You're a fucking gay witch."
"Collections\Just After Sunset\A Very Tight Place.txt" 323 55:"Did you think I was joking when I called you a gay witch? I was not. Does that mean you know you're a, well, a malevolent supernatural force sent to try me and test me? I don't know. I don't. I've spent many a sleepless night since my wife took her jewelry and left thinking about this question-among others-and I still don't. You probably don't."
"Collections\Just After Sunset\A Very Tight Place.txt" 383 234:"But even before the audit, I developed this cough. That was your work, too, of course. Went to the doctor. Lung cancer, neighbor, and it's spread to my liver and stomach and fuck knows what else. All the soft parts. Just what a witch would go for. I'm surprised you didn't put it in my balls and up my ass as well, although I'm sure it'll get there in good time. If I let it. But I won't. That's why, although I think I've got this business out here covered, my, you know, ass in diapers, it doesn't matter even if I don't. I'm going to put a bullet through my head pretty soon. From this very gun, neighbor. While I'm in my hot tub."
"Collections\Just After Sunset\A Very Tight Place.txt" 395 468:"Sure, the world would say so. That was the plan, wasn't it? That was the fucking PLAAAAN. And then, on top of everything else, you sue me over your damn ass-faced dog? Your damn dog that was on MY PROPERTY? And what was the purpose of that? After you'd taken my lot, my wife, my business, and my life, what possible purpose? Humiliation, of course! Insult to injury! Coals to Newcastle! Witchcraft! And do you know what the Bible says? Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live! Everything that's happened to me is your fault, and thou shalt not suffer a witch . . . TO LIVE !"
"Collections\Just After Sunset\A Very Tight Place.txt" 395 561:"Sure, the world would say so. That was the plan, wasn't it? That was the fucking PLAAAAN. And then, on top of everything else, you sue me over your damn ass-faced dog? Your damn dog that was on MY PROPERTY? And what was the purpose of that? After you'd taken my lot, my wife, my business, and my life, what possible purpose? Humiliation, of course! Insult to injury! Coals to Newcastle! Witchcraft! And do you know what the Bible says? Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live! Everything that's happened to me is your fault, and thou shalt not suffer a witch . . . TO LIVE !"
"Collections\Just After Sunset\A Very Tight Place.txt" 689 81:"Don't worry, I can deal with poison air," he said. "After all, I'm a witch."
"Collections\Just After Sunset\A Very Tight Place.txt" 785 857:By seven o'clock that evening, the afternoon shower was just a memory. The Turtle Island sunsetters would gather on the beach in another hour or so for the usual end-of-day show, and Grunwald expected to be among them. For now, however, he lay in his patio hot tub with his eyes closed, a weak gin and tonic near to hand. He had taken a Percocet prior to climbing into the tub, knowing it would be a help when it came to the short walk down to the beach, but his sense of almost dreamy satisfaction persisted. He hardly needed the painkillers. That might change, but for the time being, he hadn't felt so well in years. Yes, he was facing financial ruin, but he had enough cash socked away to keep him comfortable for the time he had left. More important, he had taken care of the queer who had been the author of all his misery. Ding-dong, the wicked witch was d-
"Collections\Just After Sunset\N.txt" 605 101:I pushed the idea aside and squeezed past one of the posts holding the chains. I have been called a witch-doctor both by patients and (jokingly, I assume) by my peers, but I had no wish to think of myself that way; to look at myself in the shaving-mirror and think, There is a man who was influenced at a critical moment not by his own thought-processes but by a dead patient's delusion.
"Collections\Night Shift\Trucks.txt" 39 117:The girl in the booth screamed. Both hands were clamped into her cheeks, dragging the flesh down, turning it into a witch's mask.
"Collections\Nightmares & Dreamscapes\Dedication.txt" 140 152:"You didn't go to this Mama Delorme because you were pregnant?" Darcy asked. Her immediate assumption had been that Martha had thought maybe the witch-woman would give her something that would make her miscarry . . . or that she'd decided on an out-and-out abortion.
"Collections\Nightmares & Dreamscapes\Dedication.txt" 464 117:"I knew why she would, too-an old woman superstitious enough to believe in stump-water cures, and how you could witch a man into love by putting a little drop of blood from your period onto the heel of his foot while he was sleeping, and cross-tie walkers, and God alone knows what else . . . if a woman like that with a bee in her bonnet about natural fathers could do hypnotism, hypnotizing a woman like me into doing what I did might be just what she would do. Because she would believe it. And I had named him to her, hadn't I? Yes indeed.
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 370 19:Gramma had been a witch, just like the Wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. And now she was dead. That gargling sound, George thought with increasing horror. That gargling, snoring sound had been a . . . a . . . a "death rattle."
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 370 47:Gramma had been a witch, just like the Wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. And now she was dead. That gargling sound, George thought with increasing horror. That gargling, snoring sound had been a . . . a . . . a "death rattle."
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 372 75:"Gramma?" he whispered, and crazily he thought: Ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead.
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 396 106:George realized with relief and some surprise that he could feel sorry for her now. Maybe she had been a witch. Maybe not. Maybe she had only thought she was a witch. However it had been, she was gone now. He realized with an adult's comprehension that questions of concrete reality became not unimportant but less vital when they were examined in the mute bland face of mortal remains. He realized this with an adult's comprehension and accepted with an adult's relief. This was a passing footprint, the shape of a shoe, in his mind. So are all the child's adult impressions; it is only in later years that the child realizes that he was being made; formed; shaped by random experiences; all that remains in the instant beyond the footprint is that bitter gunpowder smell which is the ignition of an idea beyond a child's given years.
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 396 161:George realized with relief and some surprise that he could feel sorry for her now. Maybe she had been a witch. Maybe not. Maybe she had only thought she was a witch. However it had been, she was gone now. He realized with an adult's comprehension that questions of concrete reality became not unimportant but less vital when they were examined in the mute bland face of mortal remains. He realized this with an adult's comprehension and accepted with an adult's relief. This was a passing footprint, the shape of a shoe, in his mind. So are all the child's adult impressions; it is only in later years that the child realizes that he was being made; formed; shaped by random experiences; all that remains in the instant beyond the footprint is that bitter gunpowder smell which is the ignition of an idea beyond a child's given years.
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 562 19:Unless you're a witch. Unless you pick your time to die when no one's around but one little kid, because it's best that way, you can . . . can . . .
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 584 10:She IS a witch, she's a witch and she's having one of her "bad spells," oh yeah, it's a "spell" all right, and it's bad, it's REALLY bad, oh God oh Jesus help me help me help me-
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 584 27:She IS a witch, she's a witch and she's having one of her "bad spells," oh yeah, it's a "spell" all right, and it's bad, it's REALLY bad, oh God oh Jesus help me help me help me-
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\Gramma.txt" 606 70:He would run into the night. Anything other than being hugged by the witch, his Gramma. Because when his mother came back she would find Gramma dead and George alive, oh yes . . . but George would have developed a sudden taste for herbal tea.
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\The Mist.txt" 2357 111:"Her," Miller said simply, and jerked his thumb toward one of the middle aisles. "That crazy cunt. That witch."
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\The Mist.txt" 2367 46:That crazy cunt, Miller had called her. That witch.
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\The Mist.txt" 2371 121:Mrs. Carmody's lips, moving and moving. Her tongue dancing around her old lady's snaggle teeth. She did look like a witch. Put her in a pointy black hat and she would be perfect. What was she saying to her two captured birds in their bright summer plumage?
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\The Mist.txt" 2432 23:That crazy cunt. That witch.
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\The Mist.txt" 2827 7:(that witch . . . that cunt)
"Collections\Skeleton Crew\The Raft.txt" 202 183:LaVerne laughed-on the quad in a bright afternoon hour it might have sounded like any college girl's laugh, but out here in the growing dark it sounded like the arid cackle of a witch making magic in a pot.
"Collections\The Bazaar of Bad Dreams\Drunken Fireworks.txt" 318 177:Me n Ma unnailed the crate the next day and took a look at what we'd bought. This was at the house in town, you understand, because we're talkin January, and colder than a witch's tit. There was some packin material, all right, Chinese newspapers of some kind, but not nearly so much as I expected. The CE4 was probably seven feet on the square, and looked like a package done up in brown paper, only the paper was kind of oily, and so heavy it felt more like canvas. The fuse was stickin out the bottom.
"Collections\The Bazaar of Bad Dreams\Obits.txt" 128 1039:-10:40 A.M. According to co-workers on the scene, she choked on her own bile. Although she graduated cum laude from Vassar, Jerri spent the last three years of her life whoring on Third Avenue, where she oversaw a crew of roughly two dozen galley slaves, all more talented than herself. She is survived by her husband, known to the staff of Neon Circus as Emasculated Toad, and one child, an ugly little fucker affectionately referred to by the staff as Pol Pot. Co-workers all agree that although she lacked even a vestige of talent, Jerri possessed a domineering and merciless personality that more than made up for it. Her braying voice was known to cause brain hemorrhages, and her lack of a sense of humor was legend. In lieu of flowers, Toad and Pot request that those who knew her express their joy at her demise by sending eucalyptus drops to the starving children of Africa. A memorial service will be held at the Neon Circus offices, where joyful survivors can exchange precious memories and join in singing "Ding Dong, the witch Is Dead."
"Collections\The Bazaar of Bad Dreams\The Little Green God of Agony.txt" 775 46:"Yes," Jack said, "only she was a good witch instead of a bad one."
"Collections\The Bazaar of Bad Dreams\The Little Green God of Agony.txt" 893 21:My mother, the good witch, Rhett thought, and this fucking thing drove her mad. The way my memories of the war will drive me mad, if I let them. Is there always a Red Henry, a Black Adolf? Does there have to be? Why does there have to be?
"Novels\'Salem's Lot.txt" 227 5:The witch grass grew wild and tall in the front yard, obscuring the old, frost-heaved flagstones that led to the porch. Chirring crickets sang in it, and he could see grasshoppers jumping in erratic parabolas.
"Novels\'Salem's Lot.txt" 545 776:It was in the southwest area that the trailers had begun to move in, and everything that goes with them, like an exurban asteroid belt: junked-out cars up on blocks, tire swings hanging on frayed rope, glittering beer cans lying beside the roads, ragged wash hung on lines between makeshift poles, the ripe smell of sewage from hastily laid septic tanks. The houses in the Bend were kissing cousins to woodsheds, but a gleaming TV aerial sprouted from nearly every one, and most of the TVs inside were color, bought on credit from Grant's or Sears. The yards of the shacks and trailers were usually full of kids, toys, pickup trucks, snowmobiles, and motorbikes. In some cases the trailers were well kept, but in most cases it seemed to be too much trouble. Dandelions and witch grass grew ankle-deep. Out near the town line, where Brock Street became Brock Road, there was Dell's, where a rock 'n' roll band played on Fridays and a c/w combo played on Saturdays. It had burned down once in 1971 and was rebuilt. For most of the down home cowboys and their girlfriends, it was the place to go and have a beer or a fight.
"Novels\'Salem's Lot.txt" 3263 207:Callahan was a tall man with piercing blue eyes and a ruddy complexion. His hair was a graying steel color. Ryerson, who hadn't been to church since he turned sixteen, liked him the best of all the local witch doctors. John Groggins, the Methodist minister, was a hypocritical old poop, and Patterson, from the Church of the Latter-day Saints and Followers of the Cross, was as crazy as a bear stuck in a honey tree. At a funeral for one of the church deacons two or three years back, Patterson had gotten right down and rolled on the ground. But Callahan seemed nice enough for a Pope-lover; his funerals were calm and comforting and always short. Ryerson doubted if Callahan had gotten all those red and broken veins in his cheeks and around his nose from praying, but if Callahan did a little drinking, who was to blame him? The way the world was, it was a wonder all those preachers didn't end up in looney bins.
"Novels\'Salem's Lot.txt" 9213 230:He hesitated, then walked up the path. He would pray. Pray all night, if necessary. Not to the new God, the God of ghettos and social conscience and free lunches, but the old God, who had proclaimed through Moses not to suffer a witch to live and who had given it unto his own son to raise from the dead. A second chance, God. All my life for penance. Only…a second chance.
"Novels\'Salem's Lot.txt" 10837 171:The village dropped behind them. Ben turned onto the Brooks Road and they drove past the Marsten House-its shutters still sagging, its lawn a complex maze of knee-high witch grass and goldenrod.
Novels\11_22_63.txt 2085 198:That was comforting, but having a phone like this in a world where color TV was the biggest technological breakthrough in consumer electronics wasn't comforting at all. I wouldn't be hung as a witch if I was found with it, but I might be arrested by the local cops and held in a jail cell until some of J. Edgar Hoover's boys could arrive from Washington to question me.
Novels\11_22_63.txt 7620 43:"Feels good. That Chev's colder'n a witch's tit. Heater's bust. You bring the money, Mr. Puddentane?"
"Novels\Bag of Bones.txt" 394 635:My publisher didn't know, my editor Debra Weinstock didn't know, my agent Harold Oblowski didn't know. Frank Arlen didn't know, either, although on more than one occasion I had been tempted to tell him. Let me be your brother. For Jo's sake if not your own, he told me on the day he went back to his printing business and mostly solitary life in the southern Maine town of Sanford. I had never expected to take him up on that, and didn't-not in the elemental cry-for-help way he might have been thinking about-but I phoned him every couple of weeks or so. Guy-talk, you know-How's it going, Not too bad, cold as a witch's tit, Yeah, here, too, You want to go down to Boston if I can get Bruins tickets, Maybe next year, pretty busy right now, Yeah, I know how that is, seeya, Mikey, Okay, Frank, keep your wee-wee in the teepee. Guy-talk.
"Novels\Bag of Bones.txt" 1552 239:Mr. Arlen had rescued Petie while the rest of the family stood below, holding hands, frozen with horror and fascination. Mrs. Arlen had repeated the Hail Mary over and over ("so fast she sounded like one of the Chipmunks on that old ‘Witch Doctor' record," Frank had said, laughing harder than ever) until her husband had disappeared back into the open bedroom window with Petie in his arms. Then she had swooned to the pavement, breaking her nose. When asked for an explanation, Petie had told them he'd wanted to check the rain-gutter for eggs.
"Novels\Bag of Bones.txt" 2383 181:"Ayuh." Bill hesitated, then added with one of those smiles we put on when we want others to know that we know we're saying something silly: "Brenda Meserve says she's a witch."
"Novels\Bag of Bones.txt" 6227 92:She turned to me, laughing with her eyes. "He actually sang a verse of ‘Ding Dong, the witch Is Dead.'"
"Novels\Bag of Bones.txt" 6355 46:In my version of "Hansel and Gretel" the witch was named Depravia. Kyra stared at me with huge eyes when I got to the part where Depravia asks Hansel to poke out his finger so she can see how plump he's getting.
"Novels\Bag of Bones.txt" 9378 665:Then a stroke of lightning leaped out of the sky to my right and knocked the last three feet of trunk out from beneath a huge old spruce which had probably been here when Sara and Kito were still alive. If I'd been looking directly at it I would have been blinded; even with my head turned three-quarters away, the stroke left a huge blue swatch like the aftermath of a gigantic camera flash floating in front of my eyes. There was a grinding, juddering sound as two hundred feet of blue spruce toppled into the lake, sending up a long curtain of spray, which seemed to hang between the gray sky and gray water. The stump was on fire in the rain, burning like a witch's hat.
"Novels\Black House.txt" 8275 394:Now Bierstone's Burnside, and he's old. Old and not doing so well in the cognition department these days. I think maybe he's gotten caught between what he wants, which is to keep Tyler for himself, and what he's promised this Munshun guy. Somewhere there's a fuddled, creaky, dangerous mind trying to make itself up. If he decides to kill Tyler and stick him in the stewpot like the witch in "Hansel and Gretel," that's bad for Judy and Fred. Not to mention Tyler, who may already have seen things that would drive a Marine combat vet insane. If the Fisherman turns the boy over to Mr. Munshun, it's bad for everyone in creation. No wonder Speedy said time was blowing in our teeth.
"Novels\Black House.txt" 9307 100:"And there's bad shit in those woods, all right," Doc says. "Makes the stuff in that Blair witch Project look fuckin' tame. I don't think you want to try it in the dark. Not unless you got a death wish, that is."
"Novels\Black House.txt" 10051 209:As to his physical condition, he's got a concussion, but that's already healing. The Fisherman has otherwise done no more than stroke his arm and his buttocks (a creepy touch that made Tyler think of the witch in "Hansel and Gretel"). Mentally . . . would you be shocked to hear that, while Mr. Munshun is goading Burny onward, Fred and Judy's boy is happy!
"Novels\Black House.txt" 10103 222:Ty does. Now the old man is behind him. A moment later, he feels the bony fingers grip the right cheek of his bottom. It's not the first time the old man has done this (each time it happens he's reminded again of the witch in "Hansel and Gretel," asking the lost children to stick their arms out of their cage), but this time his touch is different. Weaker.
Novels\Carrie.txt 1258 9:(am i a witch momma the devil's whore)
Novels\Carrie.txt 1504 31:(it's you it's you devilspawn witch imp of the devil it's you doing it)
Novels\Carrie.txt 1626 4:"witch," Momma whispered. "It says in the Lord's Book: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.' Your father did the Lord's work-"
Novels\Carrie.txt 1626 86:"witch," Momma whispered. "It says in the Lord's Book: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.' Your father did the Lord's work-"
Novels\Carrie.txt 2474 26:(thou shalt not suffer a witch to live)
Novels\Carrie.txt 2476 11:a kind of witch's light. And sometimes, at the supper table the sugar bowl would whirl madly like a dervish. Whenever it happened, Gram would cackle crazily and drool and make the sign of the Evil Eye all around her. Sometimes she panted like a dog on a hot day, and when she died of a heart attack at sixty-six, senile to the point of idiocy even at that early age, Carrie had not even been a year old. Margaret had gone into her bedroom not four weeks after Gram's funeral and there her girl-child had lain in her crib, laughing and gurgling, watching a bottle that was dangling in thin air over her head.
Novels\Cell.txt 226 600:What Clay felt was a species of dismal outrage. That blade had gone through all of his Dark Wanderer pictures (to him they were always pictures, never drawings or illustrations), and it seemed to him that the thuck sound might as well have been the blade penetrating a special chamber of his heart. That was stupid when he had repros of everything, including the four color splash-pages, but it didn't change how he felt. The madman's blade had skewered Sorcerer John (named after his own son, of course), the Wizard Flak, Frank and the Posse Boys, Sleepy Gene, Poison Sally, Lily Astolet, Blue witch, and of course Ray Damon, the Dark Wanderer himself. His own fantastic creatures, living in the cave of his imagination and poised to set him free from the drudgery of teaching art in a dozen rural Maine schools, driving thousands of miles a month and practically living out of his car.
Novels\Cell.txt 2978 286:He must have seen the horror in their faces, because he nodded. To Clay he no longer looked like kindly old Mr. Chips; he looked like a Puritan elder in an oil-painting. One who could have sentenced a man to the stocks without batting an eye. Or a woman to be burned at the stake as a witch.
Novels\Christine.txt 8463 155:Mother Nature didn't seem all that motherly that evening as early dusk gave way to full dark and then to blizzardy night. She was a pagan, fearsome old witch that night, a harridan on the wind, and Christmas meant nothing to her; she ripped down Chamber of Commerce tinsel and sent it gusting high into the black sky, she blew the large nativity scene in front of the police station into a snowbank where the sheep, the goats, the Holy Mother and Child were not found until a late January thaw uncovered them. And as a final spit in the eye of the holiday season, she tipped over the forty-foot tree that had stood in front of the Libertyville Municipal Building and sent it through a big window and into the town Tax Assessor's office. A good place for it, many said later.
Novels\Christine.txt 11768 101:Now I saw Leigh, cowering in the far corner, her hands clapped to her face, dragging it down into a witch's mask.
Novels\Cujo.txt 667 356:"You've got the right tense, anyway, champ," she said, not looking up. Her hair hung in her face and she liked it that way just fine. She didn't want him to see how pale and sick her face was. She felt as if someone had pushed her into a nightmare. She felt that if she looked at herself in a mirror at this moment she would see an ugly, capering witch. "Get out, Steve. I'm not going to tell you again."
Novels\Cujo.txt 3809 308:It was almost eleven o'clock then. It was about forty-five minutes later when she spotted something in the grass beyond the edge of the driveway on Tad's side of the car. Another fifteen minutes of examination convinced her that it was an old baseball bat with a friction-taped handle, half obscured by witch grass and timothy.
"Novels\Dark Half, The.txt" 1223 197:The music went from a scream to a whisper at once. She could sense the Shulmans quivering against each other like a pair of scared puppies in a thunderstorm and praying it was not them the Wicked witch of L Street had come to see. They were afraid of her. That was not an unwise way to feel. Shulman was a corporate lawyer with a high-powered firm, but he was still two ulcers away from being high-powered enough to give Dodie pause. If he should cross her at this stage of his young life, she would wear his guts for garters, and he knew it, and that was very satisfactory.
"Novels\Dark Half, The.txt" 1558 60:"Right," Thad said. He was grinning now. "The Wicked witch of the East."
"Novels\Dead Zone, The.txt" 3106 142:The president of the United States had been to Red China. Not Ford, but Nixon. He had gone before he resigned. Nixon, of all people. The old witch-hunter himself. If anyone but his dad had told him that, Johnny would have flatly refused to believe.
"Novels\Doctor Sleep.txt" 2747 199:"Mrs. Winnick?" He was pretty sure it was her, and that would mean putting on his parka, because Vera Winnick was in Rivington Two, and the walkway between here and there would be colder than a witch's belt buckle. Or a well-digger's tit. Or whatever the saying was. Vera had been hanging by a thread for a week now, comatose, in and out of Cheyne-Stokes respiration, and this was exactly the sort of night the frail ones picked to go out on. Usually at 4 a.m. He checked his watch. Only 3:20, but that was close enough for government work.
"Novels\Dolores Claiborne.txt" 434 114:I'd run in there and she'd be yankin at her hair or harrowin her face with her fingernails and lookin like a witch. Her eyes'd be so big they almost looked like softboiled eggs, and they were always starin into one corner or the other.
"Novels\Dolores Claiborne.txt" 722 86:There came a day-not long before Halloween, because Little Pete'd put up a paper witch in the entry window, I remember-when I was supposed to go down to the Strayhorn place after lunch. Me and Lisa McCandless were going to turn those fancy Persian rugs downstairs-you're supposed to do that every six months so they won't fade, or so they'll fade even, or some damned thing. I put my coat on and got it buttoned and was halfway to the door when I thought, What are you doin with this heavy fall coat on, you foolish thing? It's sixty-five degrees out there, at least, real Indian Summer weather. And this other voice come back and said, It won't be sixty-five out on the reach; it'll be more like fifty out there. Damp, too. And that's how I come to know I wasn't goin anywhere near the Strayhorn place that afternoon. I was gonna take the ferry across to Jonesport instead, and have it out with my daughter. I called Lisa, told her we'd have to do the rugs another day, and left for the ferry landin. I was just in time to catch the two-fifteen. If I'd missed it, I might've missed her, and who knows how different things might have turned out then?
"Novels\Dolores Claiborne.txt" 1184 518:Life went on. If you only looked at the top of things, it didn't look like anything had changed. Things never do seem to change much on the island . . . if you only look at the top of things, that is. But there's lots more to a life than what a body can see on top, and for me, at least, the things underneath seemed completely different that fall. The way I saw things had changed, and I s'pose that was the biggest part of it. I'm not just talkin about that third eye now; by the time Little Pete's paper witch had been taken down and his pitchers of turkeys and Pilgrims had gone up, I was seein all I needed to with my two good natural eyes.
"Novels\Dolores Claiborne.txt" 1372 105:She was just like me when I was her age, in other words, n look how I turned out-just another cleanin-witch with a permanent stoop in her walk and a bottle of pain-pills in the medicine cabinet for my back. Selena didn't see nothing wrong with that, but she'd just turned fifteen, and at fifteen a girl don't know what the hell she's seein even when she's lookin spang at it. I read that note over n over and I thought, Frig it-she ain't gonna end up like me, old n damn near used up at thirty-five. She ain't gonna do that even if I have to die to keep her from it. But you know something, Andy? I didn't think things'd have to go that far. I thought maybe Joe was gonna do all the dyin that needed to be done around our place.
Novels\Dreamcatcher.txt 1483 123:"In Salem," Henry went on, "the old men and the young girls combined their hysteria, and voilà, you have the Salem witch Trials."
"Novels\Duma Key.txt" 1512 247:Ilse and I both waved. For a moment she did nothing. Then she raised one hand, palm out, in an Indian How gesture, and broke into a sunny and nearly toothless grin. What seemed like a thousand wrinkles creased her face, turning her into a benign witch. I never even glimpsed the house behind her; I was still trying to cope with her sudden appearance, her cool blue sneakers, her delta of wrinkles, and her-
"Novels\Duma Key.txt" 2656 675:This dogtrot, filled with light courtesy of its long glass ceiling, was lined with planters. At its far end, Wireman hung a right. I followed him into an enormous cool parlor. A row of windows gave on a side courtyard filled with flowers-my daughters could have named half of them, Pam all of them, but I could only name the asters, dayflowers, elderberry, and foxglove. Oh, and the rhododendron. There was plenty of that. Beyond the tangle, on a blue-tiled walk that presumably connected with the main courtyard, stalked a sharp-eyed heron. It looked both thoughtful and grim, but I never saw a one on the ground that didn't look like a Puritan elder considering which witch to burn next.
"Novels\Eyes of the Dragon, The.txt" 1301 139:Outside, the wind screamed and gobbled-old wives cringed in their beds and slept poorly and told their husbands that Rhiannon, the Dark witch of the Coos, was riding her hateful broom this night, and wicked work was afoot. The husbands grunted, turned over, told their wives to go back to sleep and leave them alone. They were dull fellows for the most part; when an eye is wanted to see straws flying in the wind, give me an old wife any day.
"Novels\Finders Keepers.txt" 1469 391:"A little late for that, wouldn't you say? Try to stick with me, if you please. You'll be arraigned on three counts. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to plead not guilty to each in turn. Later, when you go to trial, you can change to guilty, should it prove to your advantage to do so. Don't even think about bail, because Bukowski doesn't laugh; she cackles like witch Hazel."
Novels\Firestarter.txt 953 169:"There was one boy who had a muscular reaction, minor but quite painful," the GA said. "It passed in less than fifteen minutes with no harm done. But there's a witch-hunt atmosphere around here now. End the draft, ban ROTC, ban Dow Chemical job recruiters because they make napalm. . . . Things get out of proportion, and I happen to think this is pretty important research."
Novels\Firestarter.txt 5986 379:"So you start with that one basic fact," Rainbird continued. "That's Go. Then you start thinking of ways to prolong her cooperation as long as possible. Then, when it's over, you write your report. If you got enough data, you get rewarded with a big cash appropriation. You get to eat the carrot. Then you can start injecting a bunch of poor, ignorant slobs with your witch's brew all over again."
Novels\Firestarter.txt 9121 245:The woman looked up at Charlie, and recognition came into her eyes. She began to scrabble away, whimpering with fear. "Don't you come near me," she hissed raggedly. "All their tests! All their tests! I don't need no tests! You're a witch! A witch!"
Novels\Firestarter.txt 9121 254:The woman looked up at Charlie, and recognition came into her eyes. She began to scrabble away, whimpering with fear. "Don't you come near me," she hissed raggedly. "All their tests! All their tests! I don't need no tests! You're a witch! A witch!"
Novels\Firestarter.txt 9361 144:The sheets were cool and clean; the weight of the crazy quilt was comforting on her chest. She drifted. She remembered the woman calling her a witch. She remembered walking away. She remembered hitching a ride with a vanful of hippies, all of them smoking dope and drinking wine, and she remembered that they had called her little sister and asked her where she was going.
Novels\Firestarter.txt 9402 490:"He's dead," a voice said from behind them, and Norma actually cried out as she turned and saw Charlie standing in the doorway, clean now and looking all the more pallid for that. Her forehead shone like a lamp. She floated in one of Norma's flannel nightgowns. "My daddy is dead. They killed him and now there's nowhere I can go. Won't you please help me? I'm sorry. It's not my fault. I told them it wasn't my fault . . . I told them . . . but that lady said I was a witch . . . she said . . ." The tears were coming now, streaming down her cheeks, and Charlie's voice dissolved into incoherent sobs.
"Novels\From a Buick 8.txt" 2817 114:"And in the end," Sandy said, "the leaves came to nothing. And I mean that literally. They melted like the witch in The Wizard of Oz. You could see traces of them in Shed B for awhile, but after a week there was nothing but some little stains on the concrete. Yellowish, very pale."
"Novels\Green Mile, The.txt" 2198 450:There was a moment of utter stop then, a quiet so thick that the only sound was the sobbing whistle of Percy's breathing. What broke it was cackling laughter, so sudden and so completely its own mad thing that it was shocking. Wharton was my first thought, but it wasn't him. It was Delacroix, standing in the open door of his cell and pointing at Percy. The mouse was back on his shoulder, and Delacroix looked like a small but malevolent male witch, complete with imp.
"Novels\Green Mile, The.txt" 4223 400:THE WOMAN in the back bedroom, propped up against the headboard and staring wall-eyed at the giant who had come into her muddled sight, didn't look at all like the Melly Moores I had known for twenty years; she didn't even look like the Melly Moores Janice and I had visited shortly before Delacroix's execution. The woman propped up in that bed looked like a sick child got up as a Halloween witch. Her livid skin was a hanging dough of wrinkles. It was puckered up around the eye on the right side, as if she were trying to wink. That same side of her mouth turned down; one old yellow eyetooth hung out over her liverish lower lip. Her hair was a wild thin fog around her skull. The room stank of the stuff our bodies dispose of with such decorum when things are running right. The chamberpot by her bed was half full of some vile yellowish goo. We had come too late anyway, I thought, horrified. It had only been a matter of days since she had been recognizable-sick but still herself. Since then, the thing in her head must have moved with horrifying speed to consolidate its position. I didn't think even John Coffey could help her now.
"Novels\Green Mile, The.txt" 4555 123:His lips moved like those of a fish-oh, how badly he wanted to say that one more word (perhaps the one that rhymes with witch). He didn't, though. He gave me a final look, and then strode past her and out into the hall.
Novels\Insomnia.txt 3658 194:"He shot me with acid!" the man on the floor screamed. "I can't see and my skin is melting! I can feel it melting!" To Ralph, he sounded like an almost conscious parody of the Wicked witch of the West.
Novels\Insomnia.txt 8673 529:"Ahhh, dey laid me off," Trigger said. "Didn't I tell you? Laid almos everybody off. I was downhearted at first, but I caught on here last April, and . . . eyyy! I like dis all kindsa better. I got my little TV for when it's slow, and there ain't nobody beepin their horns at me if I don't go the firs second a traffic-light turns green, or cuttin me off out dere on the Extension. Everyone in a hurry to get to the nex place, dey are, just why I dunno. Also, I tell you what, Ralph: dat damn van was colder'n a witch's tit in the winter. Pardon me, ma'am."
Novels\Insomnia.txt 10961 351:He flipped the jumprope handle away and started walking again. A moment later he and Lois passed under the arch and simply stood there, staring into Atropos's underground apartment. With their wide eyes and linked hands, they looked more like children in a fairy-tale than ever-not Peter Pan and Wendy now but Hansel and Gretel, coming upon the witch's candy house after days spent wandering in the trackless forest.
Novels\IT.txt 6382 817:Richie thought about it. The idea of ghosts gave his child's mind no trouble at all. He was sure there were such things. His parents were Methodists, and Richie went to church every Sunday and to Thursday-night Methodist Youth Fellowship meetings as well. He knew a great deal of the Bible already, and he knew the Bible believed in all sorts of weird stuff. According to the Bible, God Himself was at least one-third Ghost, and that was just the beginning. You could tell the Bible believed in demons, because Jesus threw a bunch of them out of this guy. Real chuckalicious ones, too. When Jesus asked the guy who had them what his name was, the demons answered and told Him to go join the Foreign Legion. Or something like that. The Bible believed in witches, or else why would it say "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live"? Some of the stuff in the Bible was even better than the stuff in the horror comics. People getting boiled in oil or hanging themselves like Judas Iscariot; the story about how wicked King Ahaz fell off the tower and all the dogs came and licked up his blood; the mass baby-murders that had accompanied the births of both Moses and Jesus Christ; guys who came out of their graves or flew into the air; soldiers who witched down walls; prophets who saw the future and fought monsters. All of that was in the Bible and every word of it was true-so said Reverend Craig and so said Richie's folks and so said Richie. He was perfectly willing to credit the possibility of Bill's explanation; it was the logic which troubled him.
Novels\IT.txt 11570 15:"No?" the witch asked, and grinned. Her claws scrabbled on the plate and she began to cram thin molasses cookies and delicate frosted slices of cake into her mouth with both hands. Her horrid teeth plunged and reared, plunged and reared; her fingernails, long and dirty, dug into the sweets; crumbs tumbled down the bony slab of her chin. Her breath was the smell of long-dead things burst wide open by the gases of their own decay. Her laugh was now a dead cackle. Her hair was thinner. Scaly scalp showed in patches.
Novels\IT.txt 11580 150:In slow motion Beverly gathered her legs under her. As if from outside she saw herself gaining her feet and backing away from the table and from the witch in an agony of horror and disbelief, disbelief because she realized for the first time that the neat little dining-room table was not dark oak but fudge. Even as she watched, the witch, still giggling, her ancient yellow eyes slanted slyly off into the corner of the room, broke a piece of it off and stuffed it avidly into the black-ringed trap that was her mouth.
Novels\IT.txt 11580 335:In slow motion Beverly gathered her legs under her. As if from outside she saw herself gaining her feet and backing away from the table and from the witch in an agony of horror and disbelief, disbelief because she realized for the first time that the neat little dining-room table was not dark oak but fudge. Even as she watched, the witch, still giggling, her ancient yellow eyes slanted slyly off into the corner of the room, broke a piece of it off and stuffed it avidly into the black-ringed trap that was her mouth.
Novels\IT.txt 11584 40:"We're all waiting for you!" the witch screamed, and her fingernails scrabbled over the surface of the fudge table, drawing deep scars in its shining surface. "Oh yes! Oh yes!"
Novels\IT.txt 11588 44:Oh God it's Hansel and Gretel it's the witch the one that always scared me the worst because she ate the children-
Novels\IT.txt 11590 33:"You and your friends!" the witch screamed, laughing. "You and your friends! In the cage! In the cage until the oven's hot!" She screamed laughter, and Beverly ran for the door, but she ran as if in slow motion. The witch's laughter beat and swirled around her head, a cloud of bats. Beverly shrieked. The hall stank of sugar and nougat and toffee and sickening synthetic strawberries. The doorknob, mock crystal when she came in, was now a monstrous sugar diamond.
Novels\IT.txt 11590 227:"You and your friends!" the witch screamed, laughing. "You and your friends! In the cage! In the cage until the oven's hot!" She screamed laughter, and Beverly ran for the door, but she ran as if in slow motion. The witch's laughter beat and swirled around her head, a cloud of bats. Beverly shrieked. The hall stank of sugar and nougat and toffee and sickening synthetic strawberries. The doorknob, mock crystal when she came in, was now a monstrous sugar diamond.
Novels\IT.txt 11594 128:She turned, swirls of red hair floating around her face, to see her father staggering toward her down the hallway, wearing the witch's black dress and skull cameo; her father's face hung with doughy, running flesh, his eyes as black as obsidian, his hands clenching and unclenching, his mouth grinning with soupy fervor.
Novels\IT.txt 11608 67:She looked back again and now her dead father was not wearing the witch's black dress but the clown suit with the big orange buttons. There was a 1958-style coonskin cap, the kind popularized by Fess Parker in the Disney movie about Davy Crockett, perched on its head. In one hand it held a bunch of balloons. In the other it held the leg of a child like a chicken drumstick. Written on each balloon was the legend IT CAME FROM OUTER SPACE.
Novels\IT.txt 20206 165:A gore-streaked apparition stood there and it could only be Henry Bowers. Henry looked like a corpse which has returned from the grave. Henry's face was a frozen witch-doctor's mask of hate and murder. His right hand was cocked at cheek-level, and even as Eddie's eyes widened and he began to draw in his first shocked breath, the hand pistoned forward, the switchblade glittering like silk.
Novels\IT.txt 22922 509:and then she closes her arms around Eddie's neck, her smooth cheek against his smooth cheek, and as he tentatively touches her small breasts she sighs and thinks for the first time This is Eddie and she remembers a day in July-could it only have been last month?-when no one else turned up in the Barrens but Eddie, and he had a whole bunch of Little Lulu comic books and they read together for most of the afternoon, Little Lulu looking for beebleberries and getting in all sorts of crazy situations, witch Hazel, all of those guys. It had been fun.
Novels\Joyland.txt 2536 582:Mrs. Shoplaw gave me a look, but Tina didn't notice. "Yes! That! She got into the newspapers, too, those tabloids, because she was pretty and rich, but mostly because of her father. And being fallen-away. That's what they call it. She was a scandal to that church of his, wearing mini-skirts and going braless and all. Well, you know what those fundamentalists preach is straight out of the Old Testament, all that about the righteous being rewarded and sinners being punished even unto the seventh generation. And she did more than hit the party circuit down there in Green witch Village." Tina's eyes were now so huge they looked on the verge of tumbling from their sockets and rolling down her cheeks. "She quit the NRA and joined the American Atheist Society!"
Novels\Joyland.txt 3544 222:Wiggle-Waggle Village was sort of depopulated with no greenies to play the fairy-tale parts, but Fred and Lane had reactivated all the mechanicals: the magic beanstalk that shot out of the ground in a burst of steam; the witch cackling in front of the Candy House; the Mad Hatter's tea party; the nightcap-wearing wolf who lurked beneath one of the underpasses and sprang at the train as it passed. As we rounded the final turn, we passed three houses all kids know well-one of straw, one of sticks, and one of bricks.
"Novels\Lisey's Story.txt" 4875 99:"Then one day not long before Christmas, I was upstairs in my room. It was cold-colder than a witch's tit-and getting ready to snow. I was on my bed, reading my history lesson, when I looked out my window and saw Daddy coming across the yard with an armload of wood. I went down the back stairs to help him stack it in the woodbox so the stovelengths wouldn't get bark all over the floor-that always made him mad. And Paul was
"Novels\Mr. Mercedes.txt" 3076 11:"Little witch?"
"Novels\Mr. Mercedes.txt" 3078 8:"Big witch this time."
"Novels\Mr. Mercedes.txt" 3306 171:Hodges wonders what he'd do if she produced a long hook, like in the old-time vaudeville shows, and tried to yank him back inside. A childhood memory comes to him: the witch in Hansel and Gretel.
"Novels\Mr. Mercedes.txt" 6004 258:He turns off the idiot box and hurries to the control room, saying chaos to light up his computers and darkness to kill the suicide program. He does a shuffling little dance, shaking his fists over his head and singing what he remembers of "Ding Dong the witch Is Dead," only changing witch to cop. He thinks it will make him feel better, but it doesn't. Between Mr. Beeson's long nose and his mother's glaring eyes, his good feeling-the feeling he worked for, the feeling he deserved-is slipping away.
"Novels\Mr. Mercedes.txt" 6004 290:He turns off the idiot box and hurries to the control room, saying chaos to light up his computers and darkness to kill the suicide program. He does a shuffling little dance, shaking his fists over his head and singing what he remembers of "Ding Dong the witch Is Dead," only changing witch to cop. He thinks it will make him feel better, but it doesn't. Between Mr. Beeson's long nose and his mother's glaring eyes, his good feeling-the feeling he worked for, the feeling he deserved-is slipping away.
"Novels\Needful Things.txt" 27 47:Sparks has flown between those two particular witch-doctors before, but this Casino Nite business is a little more than sparks; I guess you could call it a brushfire. When Willie heard that the Catholics meant to spend a night gamblin at the K of C Hall, he just about hit the roof with the top of his pointy little head. He paid for those DICE AND THE DEVIL fliers out of his own pocket, and Wanda Hemphill and her sewing circle buddies put em up everywhere. Since then, the only place the Catholics and the Baptists talk to each other is in the Letters column of our little weekly paper, where they rave and rant and tell each other they're goin to hell.
"Novels\Needful Things.txt" 3850 342:That was the image: the Scout roaring down the road at seventy, veering to the right, veering toward the trees under a white March sky that promised rain, while Annie struggled to unbuckle Todd's belt and Todd, screaming and afraid, struggled to beat her hands away. He saw Annie's well-loved face transformed into the haglike mask of a witch, saw Todd's drawn long with terror. Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night, his body dressed in a clammy jacket of sweat, with Todd's voice ringing in his ears: The trees, Mommy! Look out for the TREEEES!
"Novels\Outsider, The.txt" 10370 50:"Yes. He didn't exactly melt like the Wicked witch of the West, but close. When the shit hits the fan out here, they're going to find nothing but his clothes and maybe a bunch of dead worms."
"Novels\Pet Sematary.txt" 1933 10:"Ellie-witch," Gage had replied without a great deal of interest and went back to the TV.
"Novels\Pet Sematary.txt" 2125 24:Ellie was still in her witch costume when Louis got home. Rachel had tried to persuade her into her nightie, but Ellie had resisted, holding out for the possibility that the game, suspended because of heart attack, might yet be played out. When Louis told her to put her coat back on, Ellie whooped and clapped.
"Novels\Pet Sematary.txt" 2137 76:"I'll settle for luck." He grinned as Ellie came back. "You ready, witch Hazel?"
Novels\Revival.txt 4695 472:"They don't deserve the truth. You called them rubes, and how right you are. They have set aside what brains they have-and many of them have quite a lot-and put their faith in that gigantic and fraudulent insurance company called religion. It promises them an eternity of joy in the next life if they live according to the rules in this one, and many of them try, but even that's not enough. When the pain comes, they want miracles. To them I'm nothing but a witch doctor who touches them with magic rings instead of shaking a bone rattle over them."
Novels\Revival.txt 4703 270:Stamper didn't glance up as we crossed the kitchen. Two of the mail bins had been emptied and he was working on the third. The liquor box now looked about half full. There were some checks, but mostly it was crumpled currency. I thought of what Jacobs had said about witch doctors. In Sierra Leone, his customers would be lined up outside the door, bearing produce and chickens with freshly wrung necks. Same thing, really; all of it's just the kick. The grab. The take.
"Novels\Shining, The.txt" 4850 1361:Jack was in the cellar. He had gone down to check the furnace and boiler-such checks had become a ritual with him since the snow had closed them in-and after satisfying himself that everything was going well he had wandered through the arch, screwed the lightbulb on, and had seated himself in an old and cobwebby camp chair he had found. He was leafing through the old records and papers, constantly wiping his mouth with his handkerchief as he did so. Confinement had leached his skin of its autumn tan, and as he sat hunched over the yellowed, crackling sheets, his reddish-blond hair tumbling untidily over his forehead, he looked slightly lunatic. He had found some odd things tucked in among the invoices, bills of lading, receipts. Disquieting things. A bloody strip of sheeting. A dismembered teddy bear that seemed to have been slashed to pieces. A crumpled sheet of violet ladies' stationery, a ghost of perfume still clinging to it beneath the musk of age, a note begun and left unfinished in faded blue ink: "Dearest Tommy, I can't think so well up here as I'd hoped, about us I mean, of course, who else? Ha. Ha. Things keep getting in the way. I've had strange dreams about things going bump in the night, can you believe that and" That was all. The note was dated June 27, 1934. He found a hand puppet that seemed to be either a witch or a warlock … something with long teeth and a pointy hat, at any rate. It had been improbably tucked between a bundle of natural-gas receipts and a bundle of receipts for Vichy water. And something that seemed to be a poem, scribbled on the back of a menu in dark pencil: "Medoc / are you here? / I've been sleepwalking again, my dear. / The plants are moving under the rug." No date on the menu, and no name on the poem, if it was a poem. Elusive, but fascinating. It seemed to him that these things were like pieces in a jigsaw, things that would eventually fit together if he could find the right linking pieces. And so he kept looking, jumping and wiping his lips every time the furnace roared into life behind him.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 679 301:"Hurry along, children!" Essie spoke forward, as if to the rattling contents of her shopping cart, but actually addressing her invisible family of four identical little girls, who trailed behind in a row, like ducklings. "We need to be home for supper-or else we might end up as supper! In a witch's pot!"
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 4087 286:Don bent to pick the bag up. It looked like what you might use to put your toothbrush in if you were traveling, but it was nice leather. He unzipped it. Inside the bag was a bottle of dark red nail polish (like that was going to distract anyone from noticing that Coates was a hideous witch), a pair of tweezers, a pair of nail clippers, a small comb, a few unopened tabs of Prilosec, and . . . a prescription pill bottle.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6273 243:In a closed society like Dooling Correctional, both rumors and cold germs spread fast. But what had happened an hour ago in A Wing was no rumor. Angel Fitzroy was caged up, eyes swollen from Mace. Raving about how the new woman was a fucking witch.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6277 143:"The woman's name is Evie, like Eve in the Garden of Eden," Claudia said. "Think about that! Then Ree tried to kill me, and I bet the witch knew that was going to happen, just like she knew them others' names, and about Angel's baby."
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6279 92:Claudia was not what anyone would call a reliable witness, but it still made sense. Only a witch could know such things.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6281 147:Two stories came together in Maura's head and combined there to make a certainty. One was about a beautiful princess who was cursed by a wicked witch and fell into a deep sleep when she pricked her finger on a spindle. (Maura wasn't sure what a spindle was, but it must be sharp.) After countless years, a kiss awakened the princess from her slumber. The other was the story of Hansel and Gretel. Captured by a witch, they kept their cool and escaped after burning the hag alive in her own oven.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6281 416:Two stories came together in Maura's head and combined there to make a certainty. One was about a beautiful princess who was cursed by a wicked witch and fell into a deep sleep when she pricked her finger on a spindle. (Maura wasn't sure what a spindle was, but it must be sharp.) After countless years, a kiss awakened the princess from her slumber. The other was the story of Hansel and Gretel. Captured by a witch, they kept their cool and escaped after burning the hag alive in her own oven.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6283 210:Stories were only stories, but the ones that survived over hundreds of years must contain nuggets of truth. The truth in these two could be: spells could be broken; witches could be destroyed. Popping off the witch-woman in A Wing might not wake up Kayleigh and all the other women in the world. On the other hand, it might. It really might. Even if it didn't, the woman named Evie had to have something to do with this plague. Why else would she be able to sleep and wake normally? How else could she know things she had no way of knowing?
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6285 292:Maura had been in prison for decades. She had done a lot of reading, and even made her way through the Bible. It had seemed like a fairly worthless stack of paper at the time, men creating laws and women begetting beget-me-nots, but she remembered a compelling line: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6289 122:"I'll be back, honey," she said, patting Kayleigh's shoulder. "Unless she kills me, that is. If she's a real witch, I guess she might."
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6378 30:Other than the new one-the witch-there were only two wakeful women in A Wing, plus the sleeping heap that had been Kitty McDavid.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6390 138:Evie stood at the barred door of the soft cell, gazing at Maura. And smiling. Maura had never seen such a beautiful smile in her life. A witch, maybe, but gorgeous. The witch put a hand through the bars and beckoned with one long and elegant finger. Maura rolled her cart onward.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6390 170:Evie stood at the barred door of the soft cell, gazing at Maura. And smiling. Maura had never seen such a beautiful smile in her life. A witch, maybe, but gorgeous. The witch put a hand through the bars and beckoned with one long and elegant finger. Maura rolled her cart onward.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6402 117:Maura hustled for the soft cell, reaching around to the small of her back and whipping out the toothbrush shiv. The witch-woman still beckoned. She doesn't see what I got for her, Maura thought.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6404 76:She drew her arm back along her hip, meaning to piston it forward into the witch-woman's midsection. Into her liver. Only those dark eyes first slowed her, then stopped her. It wasn't evil Maura saw in them, but chilly interest.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6414 73:Wettermore and Murphy were coming. There were only seconds to stick the witch-woman and end this plague. Only Maura didn't. The stranger's dark eyes held her fast and she found that she did not wish to struggle against that hold. They weren't eyes at all, Maura saw, but gaps, openings into a new darkness.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 6416 5:The witch-woman pressed her face against the bars, her eyes never leaving Maura's. "Kiss me quick. While there's still time."
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 9000 300:Michaela did not want to watch The X-Files. What she wanted was to drive to the prison and see if she could score an interview with the woman of the hour. It seemed like an awful lot of work, and it was hard to imagine persuading anyone to let her in looking as she did now (sort of like the Wicked witch of the West, only in jeans and a shell top), but after what they had seen up here, where that woman had reportedly made her first appearance . . .
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 12485 25:"You saying she's a witch?" Terry asked. He pulled out the flask and had a sip. Probably not the best way to negotiate, but he needed something, and right now. "Come on, Clint. Next you'll be telling me she can walk on water."
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 12513 266:And when he raised the flask and took another long, defiant swallow, Frank raised an inward cheer. By tomorrow, Acting Sheriff Coombs would be in the bag. Then he, Frank, would take over. There would be no seventy-two hours, and he didn't care if Eve Black was a witch, a fairy princess, or the Red Queen of Wonderland. Everything he needed to know about Eve Black had been in that one short phone call.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 13054 315:Dr. Norcross walked by the glassed wall of the Booth without stopping. Angel weighed coming up behind him and plunging the key in the untrustworthy quack's jugular. She loved the idea. Unfortunately, she had made a promise to Evie not to kill anyone until daylight, and Angel was profoundly wary of crossing the witch.
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 13805 22:"Gonna protect the witch," Angel said. "Or die trying."
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 13809 104:Angel was giving Jared her best Stare of Death. "Are you? Are you with us? Will you help protect the witch?"
"Novels\Sleeping Beauties.txt" 13815 90:Angel brandished her chisel and bared her teeth. "No one gets protection today but the witch. No one gets protection but Evie!"
"Novels\Stand, The.txt" 3045 520:What was important was that a regrettable incident had occurred. Starkey flashed back in time twenty-two years to 1968. He had been in the officers' club in San Diego when the news came about Calley and what had happened at Mei Lai Four. Starkey had been playing poker with four other men, two of whom now sat on the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The poker game had been forgotten, utterly forgotten, in a discussion of exactly what this was going to do to the military-not any one branch but the entire military-in the witch-hunt atmosphere of Washington's fourth estate. And one of their number, a man who could now dial directly to the miserable worm who had been masquerading as a Chief Executive since January 20, 1989, had laid his cards carefully down on the green felt table and he had said: Gentlemen, a regrettable incident has occurred. And when a regrettable incident occurs which involves any branch of the United States Military, we don't question the roots of that incident but rather how the branches may best be pruned. The service is mother and father to us. And if you find your mother raped or your father beaten and robbed, before you call the police or begin an investigation, you cover their nakedness. Because you love them.
"Novels\Stand, The.txt" 7339 818:"You know," Bateman said finally, "I'm fundamentally a cheerful man. Maybe because I have a low threshold of satisfaction. It's made me greatly disliked in my field. I have my faults; I talk too much, as you've heard, and I'm a terrible painter, as you've seen, and I used to be terribly unwise with money. I sometimes spent the last three days before payday eating peanut butter sandwiches and I was notorious in Woodsville for opening savings accounts and then closing them out a week later. But I never really let it get me down, Stu. Eccentric but cheerful, that's me. The only bane of my life has been my dreams. Ever since boyhood I've been plagued by amazingly vivid dreams. A lot of them have been nasty. As a youngster it was trolls under bridges that reached up and grabbed my foot or a witch that turned me into a bird … I would open my mouth to scream, and nothing but a string of caws would come out. Do you ever have bad dreams, Stu?"
"Novels\Stand, The.txt" 14073 27:"And behold, the Wicked witch of the West, or some Pentagon assholes, visited the country with a great plague, and before you could say, ‘Here comes Captain Trips,' just about everyone in New York was dead. Including Larry's mother."
"Novels\Stand, The.txt" 20562 322:"Killer God! Killer God!" she spat. "Millions-maybe billions-dead in the plague. Millions more afterward. We don't even know if the children will live. Isn't He done yet? Does it just have to go on and on until the earth belongs to the rats and the roaches? He's no God. He's a daemon, and you're His witch."
"Novels\Talisman, The.txt" 14380 657:Gordon Sloat had been a dour Lutheran minister in Ohio-Morgan had spent his whole boyhood trying to flee that harsh and frightening man. Finally he had escaped to Yale. He had set his entire mind and spirit on Yale in his sophomore year of high school for one reason above all others, unadmitted by his conscious mind but as deep as bedrock: it was a place where his rude, rural father would never dare to come. If his father ever tried to set foot on the Yale campus, something would happen to him. Just what that something might be, the high-school-age Sloat was not sure . . . but it would be roughly akin, he felt, to what had happened to the Wicked witch when Dorothy threw the bucket of water over her. And this insight seemed to have been true: his father never had set foot on the Yale campus. From Morgan's first day there, Gordon Sloat's power over his son had begun to wane-that alone made all the striving and effort seem worthwhile.
"Novels\Tommyknockers, The.txt" 6638 153:On Main Street, everyone she passed had a peculiar dazed look in his or her eye, as though they had all just awakened from a spell cast by a fairy-tale witch.
"Novels\Tommyknockers, The.txt" 15417 431:But it was the woman who answered. Her eyes opened. Looking into them was like looking into the witches' caldron in Macbeth. For a moment Gard forgot all his pain and weariness and sickness. He was held in thrall by that poisoned gaze. In that instant he understood all the truth and all the power of the fearsome woman Bobbi had called Sissy, and the reason Bobbi had fled from her, as from a fiend. She was a fiend. She was a witch. And even now, in her fearful agony, her hate held.
"Novels\Tommyknockers, The.txt" 15431 370:This he was able to manage. It wavered across the green shed like the skeleton of a crazy beach umbrella, nodding and dipping, casting weird elongated shadows on the walls and floor. Gardener hopped clumsily after it, not wanting, not daring, to look back into that insane woman's eyes. Over and over his mind played a single thought: Bobbi Anderson's sister was a witch . . . a witch . . . a witch . . .
"Novels\Tommyknockers, The.txt" 15431 384:This he was able to manage. It wavered across the green shed like the skeleton of a crazy beach umbrella, nodding and dipping, casting weird elongated shadows on the walls and floor. Gardener hopped clumsily after it, not wanting, not daring, to look back into that insane woman's eyes. Over and over his mind played a single thought: Bobbi Anderson's sister was a witch . . . a witch . . . a witch . . .
"Novels\Tommyknockers, The.txt" 15431 398:This he was able to manage. It wavered across the green shed like the skeleton of a crazy beach umbrella, nodding and dipping, casting weird elongated shadows on the walls and floor. Gardener hopped clumsily after it, not wanting, not daring, to look back into that insane woman's eyes. Over and over his mind played a single thought: Bobbi Anderson's sister was a witch . . . a witch . . . a witch . . .
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 10578 113:"No," Big Jim said. The idea that he might go to jail had never crossed his mind, not even when the Perkins witch had shown up here and started making her accusations. He smiled. "But Dale Barbara is."
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 11661 38:"Pete, get rid of this rhymes-with-witch," Big Jim said without turning around. "If she won't go on her own, throw her out. And tell whoever's on the desk that he's fired."
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 12650 16:"Because the witch is putting her paper together there with her two little trolls. Freeman and the other one. The sports reporter who's always down on the Wildcats."
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 13250 24:There, you noseyparker witch, he thought as the new officers, looking bright-eyed and eager, rose from the bleachers. Let's see how you like getting in my business now.
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 14474 177:"Christ is coming back on Halloween," Chef said. "Possibly a few days earlier; I can't tell. It's already the Halloween season, you know. Season of the motherfucking witch." He handed Andy the pipe, then pointed with the hand holding the garage door opener. "Do you see that? Up at the end of the gallery. Over the door to the storage side."
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 16933 217:Big Jim laughed louder this time, and slapped his thigh for good measure. "I thought Cox was bad-he wanted the one with the big tiddies to help Andrea-but you're ever so much worse. Shumway! That rhymes-with-witch couldn't administrate herself out of a paper bag!"
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 18227 624:"That cotton-picker topped himself?" Big Jim exclaimed. The few patrons-most at the counter, watching CNN-looked around, then looked away. "Well, there! I'm not a bit surprised!" It occurred to him that now the Toyota dealership could be his for the taking . . . but why would he want it? A much bigger plum had fallen into his lap: the whole town. He had already started drafting a list of executive orders, which he would begin putting into effect as soon as he was granted full executive powers. That would happen tonight. And besides, he had hated that smarmy sonofabuck Freeman and his titsy rhymes-with-witch wife for years.
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 18783 23:"I'm nervous as a witch," Randolph confessed.
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 21994 91:"There's Julia Shumway," Big Jim marveled. "I should have killed that rhymes-with-witch when I had the chance."
"Novels\Under the Dome.txt" 22827 167:"That's the ticket," he said. "If you want something done right in this world, you have to do it yourself. Just ask Coggins. Just ask the Perkins rhymes-with-witch. They know." He laughed some more. He couldn't help it, because it really was rich. "They found out. You don't tease a big dog if you only have a little stick. Nosir. Nosirree."
Novels\Bachman\Blaze.txt 2654 34:"Yeah? Good for you. Cold as a witch's tit in here, ain't it?" The driver downshifted in anticipation of his turn, and from below them came a series of barking explosions as the engine backfired down its rotting tailpipe. "Window's broke. Radio, too."
"Novels\Bachman\Long Walk, The.txt" 782 91:They crossed a railroad track that had been abandoned long ago-the rails were rusty and witch-grass was growing in the cinders between the ties. Somebody stumbled and fell and was warned and got up and went on walking with a bleeding knee.
Novels\Bachman\Rage.txt 1523 408:I let him sob for the best part of a minute; the cops had started toward the school at the sound of the shot, but Tom Denver, still betting on his shrink, held them back, and so that was all right. Mr. Grace sounded like a very small child, helpless, hopeless. I had made him fuck himself with his own big tool, like one of those weird experiences you read about in the Penthouse Forum. I had taken off his witch doctor's mask and made him human. But I didn't hold it against him. To err is only human, but it's divine to forgive. I believe that sincerely.
"Novels\Bachman\Regulators, The.txt" 956 805:He thinks of trying to separate Kirsten from the corpse-it'll have to be done sooner or later-but Collie Entragian arrives at the Billingsley house before he can make his move, with the counter-girl from the E-Z Stop right behind him. The girl has pulled ahead of the longhair, who is puffing badly. The guy isn't as young as his rock-and-roll hair made him look from a distance. Johnny is perhaps most struck by the Josephsons. They are standing at the foot of the Carver driveway, holding hands, looking somehow like a Spike Lee version of Hansel and Gretel in the pouring rain. Marielle Soderson passes behind Johnny and joins her husband on the Billingsley lawn. Johnny decides that if Brad and Belinda Josephson can be Hansel and Gretel in Spike's new G-rated joint, Marielle can play the witch.
"Novels\Bachman\Running Man, The.txt" 5565 82:Amelia was screaming endlessly, her hands pulling her cheeks down into a plastic witch-face.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower I The Gunslinger.txt" 43 837:Above, the stars were unwinking, also constant. Suns and worlds by the million. Dizzying constellations, cold fire in every primary hue. As he watched, the sky washed from violet to ebony. A meteor etched a brief, spectacular arc below Old Mother and winked out. The fire threw strange shadows as the devil-grass burned its slow way down into new patterns-not ideograms but a straightforward crisscross vaguely frightening in its own no-nonsense surety. He had laid his fuel in a pattern that was not artful but only workable. It spoke of blacks and whites. It spoke of a man who might straighten bad pictures in strange hotel rooms. The fire burned its steady, slow flame, and phantoms danced in its incandescent core. The gunslinger did not see. The two patterns, art and craft, were welded together as he slept. The wind moaned, a witch with cancer in her belly. Every now and then a perverse downdraft would make the smoke whirl and puff toward him and he breathed some of it in. It built dreams in the same way that a small irritant may build a pearl in an oyster. The gunslinger occasionally moaned with the wind. The stars were as indifferent to this as they were to wars, crucifixions, resurrections. This also would have pleased him.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower I The Gunslinger.txt" 1255 408:His reaction was automatic, instantaneous, inbred. He whirled on his heels while his hands pulled the guns from their holsters, the butts heavy and sure in his hands. It was Allie, and of course it had to be Allie, coming at him with her face distorted, the scar a hellish purple in the lowering light. He saw that she was held hostage; the distorted, grimacing face of Sheb peered over her shoulder like a witch's familiar. She was his shield and sacrifice. He saw it all, clear and shadowless in the frozen, deathless light of the sterile calm, and heard her:
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower I The Gunslinger.txt" 2313 163:Then there was sawgrass: at first only yellow scrub, clinging with gruesome vitality to the bleak soil where the last of the runoff reached. Further up there was witch-grass, first sparse, then green and rank . . . then the sweet smell of real grass, mixed with timothy and shaded by the first of the dwarfed firs. There the gunslinger saw an arc of brown moving in the shadows. He drew, fired, and felled the rabbit all before Jake could begin to cry out his surprise. A moment later he had reholstered the gun.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower I The Gunslinger.txt" 2349 571:She was dying. He could smell her burning hair, could hear their cries of Charyou tree. And he could see the color of his own madness. Susan, lovely girl at the window, horseman's daughter. How she had flown across the Drop, her shadow that of horse and girl merged, a fabulous creature out of an old story, something wild and free! How they had flown together in the corn! Now they were flinging cornhusks at her and the husks caught fire even before they caught in her hair. Charyou tree, charyou tree, they cried, these enemies of light and love, and somewhere the witch was cackling. Rhea, the witch's name had been, and Susan was turning black in the flames, her skin cracking open, and-
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower I The Gunslinger.txt" 2349 601:She was dying. He could smell her burning hair, could hear their cries of Charyou tree. And he could see the color of his own madness. Susan, lovely girl at the window, horseman's daughter. How she had flown across the Drop, her shadow that of horse and girl merged, a fabulous creature out of an old story, something wild and free! How they had flown together in the corn! Now they were flinging cornhusks at her and the husks caught fire even before they caught in her hair. Charyou tree, charyou tree, they cried, these enemies of light and love, and somewhere the witch was cackling. Rhea, the witch's name had been, and Susan was turning black in the flames, her skin cracking open, and-
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower I The Gunslinger.txt" 3599 287:Two of them, lurching rather than walking, went for the boy with arms like dough. The guns did their work, stitching the darkness with red-white lances of light that pushed needles of pain into the gunslinger's eyes. The boy screamed and continued to throw away rocks to either side. witch-glow leaped and danced. Hard to see now, that was the worst. Everything had gone to shadows and afterimages.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower I The Gunslinger.txt" 4283 144:"Then hear this: when you returned, Marten had gone west, to join the rebels. So all said, anyway, and so you believed. Yet he and a certain witch left you a trap and you fell into it. Good boy! And although Marten was long gone by then, there was a man who sometimes made you think of him, was there not? A man who affected the dress of a monk and the shaven head of a penitent-"
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower II The Drawing of the Three.txt" 5881 314:Eddie let him go on a little further, and Roland was quite adept at weaving his way around the places where the sand was loose enough to bog the wheels, but the chair finally became mired again and Eddie could bear only a few moments of watching Roland struggle to push it free, gasping, chest heaving, while the witch (for so Eddie had come to think of her) howled with laughter and actually threw her body backwards in the chair to make the task that much more difficult-and then he shouldered the gunslinger aside and heaved the chair out of the sand with one angry lurching lunge. The chair tottered and now he saw/sensed her shifting forward as much as the ropes would allow, doing this with a weird prescience at the exactly proper moment, trying to topple herself again.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower II The Drawing of the Three.txt" 8433 21:He didn't beg the witch-woman behind him. First, it wouldn't help. Second, begging would degrade him. He had lived a degrading life; he discovered that he had no wish to degrade himself further in the last few minutes of it. Minutes were all he had left now. That's all there would be before that bright line disappeared and the time of the lobstrosities came.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower II The Drawing of the Three.txt" 9142 191:Odetta had no voice with which to reply. As Roland kicked the first attacking lobstrosity away and as the second moved in to lunch on a chunk of Eddie's arm, she could only whisper in the witch-woman's ear: "I love you."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower III The Waste Lands.txt" 5988 203:Oy gave his shrill, whistling bark. Jake turned and saw more people coming up the street-five or six in all. Like Si and Mercy, they were all old, and one of them, a woman hobbling over a cane like a witch in a fairy-tale, looked positively ancient. As they neared, Jake realized that two of the men were identical twins. Long white hair spilled over the shoulders of their patched homespun shirts. Their skin was as white as fine linen, and their eyes were pink. Albinos, he thought.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 2764 50:Susan Delgado stopped about forty yards from the witch's hut, the sweat chilling on her arms and the nape of her neck. Had she just spied an old woman (surely the one she had come to see) dart down that last bit of path leading from the top of the hill? She thought she had.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 2792 523:"And here y'are," the old woman said, and offered a grotesque smile of welcome. It was a smile guaranteed to make even a brave girl think of stories told in the nursery-Winter's tales of old women with snaggle teeth and bubbling cauldrons full of toad-green liquid. There was no cauldron over the fire in this room (nor was the fire itself much of a shake, in Susan's opinion), but the girl guessed there had been, betimes, and things in it of which it might be better not to think. That this woman was a real witch and not just an old lady posing as one was something Susan had felt sure of from the moment she had seen Rhea darting back inside her hut with the malformed cat at her heels. It was something you could almost smell, like the reeky aroma rising off the hag's skin.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 2840 146:While Rhea's attention was distracted by the coins, Susan happened to look through the open door to her left and into what she assumed was the witch's bedchamber. And here she saw an odd and disquieting thing: a light under the bed. A pink, pulsing light. It seemed to be coming from some kind of box, although she could not quite . . .
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 2842 5:The witch looked up, and Susan hastily moved her eyes to a corner of the room, where a net containing three or four strange white fruits hung from a hook. Then, as the old woman moved and her huge shadow danced ponderously away from that part of the wall, Susan saw they were not fruits at all, but skulls. She felt a sickish drop in her stomach.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 2957 29:Susan did, and felt the old witch's fingers trail down her back and to her buttocks. Their tips were cold as mud.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 2997 124:The old woman's lips wriggled back from her few remaining teeth in a doglike sneer, and now, Susan realized, she and the witch-woman were back where they had been at the start: ready to claw each other's eyes out.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 3199 2:(witch)
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 3219 349:She opened her mouth-to protest again, she supposed, perhaps to tell him that Pat Delgado's daughter could take care of herself-and then she thought of the Mayor's new men, and the cold way they had run their eyes over her when Thorin's attention had been elsewhere. She had seen those three this very night as she left on her way to the witch's hut. Them she had heard approaching, and in plenty of time for her to leave the road and rest behind a handy piñón tree (she refused to think of it as hiding, exactly). Back toward town they had gone, and she supposed they were drinking at the Travellers' Rest right now-and would continue to until Stanley Ruiz closed the bar-but she had no way of knowing that for sure. They could come back.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 3730 78:"No trouble," Susan had replied, but for a moment she thought of how the witch had stood beside her in the doorway, pulling her braid through the gnarled tube of one loosely clenched fist. She remembered wanting to go, and she remembered asking Rhea if their business was done.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 3941 145:"I'm right to doubt. Just as I was right to go with Rimer to old man Thorin and convince him that Farson's glass would be better with the witch-woman, for the nonce. She'll keep it in a place where a gunslinger couldn't find it, let alone a nosy lad who's yet to have his first piece of arse. These are strange times. A storm's coming. And when you know the wind is going to blow, it's best to keep your gear battened down."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 4674 448:And what was the worst? That Hart didn't understand how humiliated she was, and not just for herself. He was too busy strutting and preening (also too busy trying to look down the front of sai Delgado's dress at every opportunity) to know that people-his own Chancellor among them-were laughing at him behind his back. That might stop when the girl had returned to her aunt's with a big belly, but that wouldn't be for months yet. The witch had seen to that. It would be even longer if the girl kindled slowly. And what was the silliest, most humilating thing of all? That she, John Haverty's daughter Olive, still loved her husband. Hart was an overweening, vainglorious, prancing loon of a man, but she still loved him.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 4983 65:"Headache powder. Hangover powder, ye might say. From the old witch. The one who lives up the Coos. Know where I mean?" Avery gave Jonas a knowing look. The old gunny pretended not to see it, but Roland thought he had. And what did it mean? Another mystery.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 4989 37:"Aye, boy, but ye pay a price for witch's medicine. Remember that: ye always pay. This 'un takes away the headache if ye drink too much of Mayor Thorin's damned punch, but it gripes the bowels somethin fierce, so it does. And the farts-!" He waved a hand in front of his face to demonstrate, took another sip from the cup, then set it aside. He returned to his former gravity, but the mood in the room had lightened just a little; they all felt it. "Now what are we to do about this business?"
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 5192 529:Aunt Cord had been at the stove, wrapped in her dressing gown and with her hair still netted. She dished herself up a bowl of oatmeal and brought it to the table. Susan had known things weren't good as soon as her aunt turned toward her, bowl in hand; she could see the discontented twitch of Aunt Cord's lips, and the disapproving glance she shot at the orange Susan was peeling. Her aunt was still rankled by the silver and gold she had expected to have in hand by now, coins which would be withheld yet awhile due to the witch's prankish decree that Susan should remain a virgin until autumn.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 5354 138:Then Aunt Cord had smiled. A real smile. What hurt Susan the most, confused her the most, was that her aunt was no cradle-story ogre, no witch like Rhea of the Coos. There was no monster here, only a maiden lady with some few social pretensions, a love of gold and silver, and a fear of being turned out, penniless, into the world.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 6940 706:The second Reaping dress (which Susan thought of as Blue Dress With Beads; the first, her breakfast dress, was White Dress With High Waist and Puffed Sleeves) had been kept apart from the others-it needed a bit of work yet-and something had gotten into the first-floor sewing room and gnawed it pretty much to rags. If this had been the costume she was to wear to the bonfire-lighting, or the one she was to wear to the ballroom dance after the bonfire had been lit, the matter would indeed have been serious. But Blue Dress With Beads was essentially just a fancified day receiving dress, and could easily be replaced in the two months between now and the Reap. Only two! Once-on the night the old witch had granted her her reprieve-it had seemed like eons before she would have to begin her bed-service to Mayor Thorin. And now it was only two months! She twisted in a kind of involuntary protest at the thought.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 7034 247:"Balls to her and all witches!" His cultured politician's tones had been replaced by an accent as thick as that in the voice of any back-country farmhand from Onnie's Ford. "I must have something, a bonbon, aye, so I must. Balls to the witch, I say! Owlshit to 'er!" The smell of tobacco a thick reek around her head. She thought that she would vomit if she had to smell it much longer. "Just stand still, girl. Stand still, my temptation. Mind me well!"
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 7360 250:She and Rhea had gone to the door of the hut, Susan said, and there they had stood with the Kissing Moon shining down on their faces. The old woman had been touching her hair, Susan remembered that much. The touch revolted her, especially after the witch's previous touches, but Susan had been unable to do anything about it. Arms too heavy to raise; tongue too heavy to speak. She could only stand there while the witch whispered in her ear.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 7360 418:She and Rhea had gone to the door of the hut, Susan said, and there they had stood with the Kissing Moon shining down on their faces. The old woman had been touching her hair, Susan remembered that much. The touch revolted her, especially after the witch's previous touches, but Susan had been unable to do anything about it. Arms too heavy to raise; tongue too heavy to speak. She could only stand there while the witch whispered in her ear.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 7665 843:Roland and Susan were careful-as careful as delirious people could be, at any rate. They never met in the same place twice in a row, they never met at the same time twice in a row, they never skulked on their way to their trysts. In Hambry, riders were common but skulkers were noticed. Susan never tried to cover her "riding out" by enlisting the help of a friend (although she had friends who would have done her this service); people who needed alibis were people keeping secrets. She had a sense that Aunt Cord was growing increasingly uneasy about her rides-particularly the ones she took in the early evenings-but so far she accepted Susan's oft-repeated reason for them: she needed time to be solitary, to meditate on her promise and to accept her responsibility. Ironically, these suggestions had originally come from the witch of the Coos.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 8550 30:"Ah! Not the bitch but the witch."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 9355 13:"From the witch," Roland mused. "Yes, but how did she know? For she never leaves the Coos, or so Susan has told me."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 9357 204:"I can't say. Nor do I much care. What I'm most concerned about right now is making sure that Sheemie isn't hurt because of what he told me and gave me. After that, I'm concerned that what old witch Rhea has tried to tell once she doesn't try to tell again."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 9367 19:"What about the witch?" Alain asked. "What do we do about her?"
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 9726 234:"You won't bless anything if the Wizard's Rainbow gets hold of you," Latigo said grimly, and swung his attention back to Jonas. "You'll want to be even more careful taking it back than you were in giving it over. The old witch-woman's likely under its glam by now."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 9989 8:"The witch."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 11462 170:He knew something, all right-how dangerous the smooth, glassy thing in his hands was. It could take him in a blink, if it wanted. And in a month, he would be like the witch: scrawny, raddled with sores, and too obsessed to know or care.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 11604 203:It took the riders longer to reach her position than she would have expected, and when they finally got there, she saw why. Rhea was with them, sitting in a black cart covered with magical symbols. The witch had been scary when Susan had seen her on the night of the Kissing Moon, but still recognizably human; what the girl saw passing before her now, rocking from side to side in the black cart and clutching a bag in her lap, was an unsexed, sore-raddled creature that looked more like a troll than a human being. With her were the Big Coffin Hunters.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 11741 104:Sheemie, whose life had been saved by "Mr. Arthur Heath." Sheemie, who had risked the wrath of the witch by giving Cuthbert the note meant for her aunt. Sheemie, who had brought these barrels up here. They had been smeared with soot to partially camouflage them, and Susan got some on her hands and the sleeves of her shirt as she took off the tops-more ashes. But the firecrackers were still inside: the round, fist-sized big-bangers and the smaller lady-fingers.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 12577 37:"Good. Get about it. And tell the witch to put her toy back in its bag." Jonas passed a hand over his brow. Fingers which had rarely shaken before had now picked up a minute tremble. "It's distracting."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 12772 119:"Well, perhaps, but you did quite well in the time you had, lady-sai. Few could have done better. And listen to the witch cackle! Like salt in his wounds, I wot . . . but we'll shut her up soon enough." Then, turning his head: "Clay!"
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 12886 138:Sheemie, crouched down in the grass and peering into the clearing, was nearly run over by Rhea's black wagon; the screaming, gibbering witch passed so close to him that he could smell her sour skin and dirty hair. If she had looked down, she couldn't have missed seeing him and undoubtedly would have turned him into a bird or a bumbler or maybe even a mosquito.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 13291 329:It was at this point, not long after the last toll of noon had faded into the cold air, that the batwing doors opened and two women came in. A good many knew the crone in the lead, and several of them crossed their eyes with their thumbs as a ward against her evil look. A murmur ran through the room. It was the Coos, the old witch-woman, and although her face was pocked with sores and her eyes sunk so deep in their sockets they could barely be seen, she gave off a peculiar sense of vitality. Her lips were red, as if she had been eating winterberries.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 13293 124:The woman behind her walked slowly and stiffly, with one hand pressed against her midsection. Her face was as white as the witch-woman's mouth was red.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 13882 44:The galloped-out pony that had brought the witch back to Hambry had been replaced by a fresh one, but it was the same black cart, the same golden cabalistic symbols, the same driver. Rhea sat with the reins in her claws, her head ticking from side to side like the head of a rusty old robot, grinning at Susan without humor. Grinning as a corpse grins.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 14235 275:But he knew better. Demon Moon had risen, he had seen its orange light shining on Cuthbert's face like delirium, and he knew better. In his head the lunatic buzz of the thinny, that rotting sore eating through the flesh of reality, joined with the lunatic laughter of the witch, and he knew better.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 14295 183:In Maerlyn's Rainbow he saw her-Susan, horse-drover's daughter, lovely girl at the window. He saw her standing in the back of a black cart decorated with gold symbols, the old witch's cart. Reynolds rode behind her, holding the end of a rope that was noosed around her neck. The cart was rolling toward Green Heart, making its way with processional slowness. Hill Street was lined with people of whom the farmer with the lamb-slaughterer's eyes had been only the first-all those folk of Hambry and Mejis who had been deprived of their fair but were now given this ancient dark attraction in its stead: charyou tree, come, Reap, death for you, life for our crops.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 14642 25:"Did you ever see the witch again?" Jake asked.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 14825 20:"And you saw the witch."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 14833 27:"Only in the movie, the witch wasn't riding a broom," Jake said. "She was on her bike, the one with the basket on the back."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 15612 135:Jake turns for him, and is not surprised to see a green-faced woman in a pointed black hat swimming inside the ball. It is the Wicked witch of the East; it is also, he knows, Rhea of the Coos. She stares at the boy with the guns in his hands and bares her teeth at him in the most terrible grin Jake has ever seen in his life.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 16497 283:"Roland, hear me very well. I know you felt betrayed by your lady mother. So did I. I know that part of you hated her. Part of me hated her, too. But we both also loved her, and love her still. You were poisoned by the toy you brought back from Mejis, and you were tricked by the witch. One of those things alone might not have caused what happened, but the pink ball and the witch together . . . aye."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 16497 379:"Roland, hear me very well. I know you felt betrayed by your lady mother. So did I. I know that part of you hated her. Part of me hated her, too. But we both also loved her, and love her still. You were poisoned by the toy you brought back from Mejis, and you were tricked by the witch. One of those things alone might not have caused what happened, but the pink ball and the witch together . . . aye."
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower IV Wizard and Glass.txt" 17327 93:It had with Susan Delgado, in Mejis, but part of Susan had wanted badly to tell me what the witch, Rhea, had tried to hide from Susan's front-mind, where we hear our own thoughts very clearly. She'd wanted to tell me because we were in love.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower V Wolves of the Calla.txt" 678 110:Eddie passed at least an hour telling Roland the story of Hansel and Gretel, turning the wicked child-eating witch into Rhea of the Coos almost without thinking of it. When he got to the part about her trying to fatten the children up, he broke off and asked Roland: "Do you know this one? A version of this one?"
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower V Wolves of the Calla.txt" 1000 236:He looked down at the sidewalk, suddenly sure he wouldn't have a shadow. They'd lost their shadows like the kids in one of the stories . . . one of the nineteen fairy tales . . . or was it maybe something newer, like The Lion, the witch and the Wardrobe or Peter Pan? One of what might be called the Modern Nineteen?
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower V Wolves of the Calla.txt" 5564 589:"There was a drinking fountain in the alley beside Spencer's Drugs, the sort of thing no Public Health Office would have sanctioned a few years later, but back then there was one or two in every small town. I washed Barlow's blood off my face and neck there. Tried to wash it out of my hair, too. And then I went to St. Andrews, my church. I'd made up my mind to pray for a second chance. Not to the God of the theologians who believe that everything holy and unholy ultimately comes from inside us, but to the old God. The one who proclaimed to Moses that he should not suffer a witch to live and gave unto his own son the power to raise from the dead. A second chance is all I wanted. My life for that.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower V Wolves of the Calla.txt" 14635 541:For a moment Tian's wife only stood there, processing this information. Then she did something that surprised a man who was not often surprised. She threw herself against him, pressing her body frankly to his, and covered his face with hungry, wet-lipped kisses. Roland bore this for a little bit, then held her away. The sickness was coming now. The feeling of uselessness. The sense that he would fight this battle or battles like it over and over for eternity, losing a finger to the lobstrosities here, perhaps an eye to a clever old witch there, and after each battle he would sense the Dark Tower a little farther away instead of a little closer. And all the time the dry twist would work its way in toward his heart.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower V Wolves of the Calla.txt" 15058 296:"She's gone, ye great dick-led galoot!" cried Rhea of the Coos from the darkness. "Taken her labor elsewhere, ye ken! And I've no doubt that when her cannibal baby finally comes out, it'll munch its mother north from the cunt, aye!" She laughed, a perfect (and perfectly grating) witch Hazel cackle. "No titty-milk fer this one, ye grobbut lost lad! This one'll have meat!"
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower VII The Dark Tower.txt" 10393 716:The other painting showed the Dark Tower, a sooty-gray black cylinder tapering upward. It stood at the far end of Can'-Ka No Rey, the field of roses. In their dreams the Tower had seemed taller than the tallest skyscraper in New York (to Susannah this meant the Empire State Building). In the painting it looked to be no more than six hundred feet high, yet this robbed it of none of its dreamlike majesty. The narrow windows rose in an ascending spiral around it just as in their dreams. At the top was an oriel window of many colors-each, Roland knew, corresponding to one of the Wizard's glasses. The inmost circle but one was the pink of the ball that had been left for awhile in the keeping of a certain witch-woman named Rhea; the center was the dead ebony of Black Thirteen.
"Novels\Dark Tower\The Dark Tower VII The Dark Tower.txt" 13666 179:Susannah smiled and reached out to pat his knee. "Don't look like that, sugar. It's not your fault that you spent God knows how long caged up like Hansel and Gretel in the witch's house."