Read The Zombie in the Basement for Free Online

and see your zombie for yourself.”
    As Mr. Rollin shuffled away, Eric looked to Ricky. “Should we?” Eric asked.
    Ricky shrugged. “Why not? If he wanted to hurt us he would have done so already. I think he’s safe enough.”
    “ But what about what our parents tell us about strangers?” Eric asked.
    Ricky shrugged again. “Eric, we’re the ones who broke into his house. If we’re worried about him being a stranger, I think it’s a little late for that.”
    Eric nodded. “Yeah, good point. Okay, let’s go.”
    Ricky took the lead and the two boys followed the old man who was now at the doorway. A light flicked on in the other room, and as Eric and Ricky reached the doorway and stepped inside; their eyes went wide with wonder at the sights that greeted them, their nose tick-
     
    ling to the smell they first noticed upon entering the basement.
    In every corner of what was obviously a workshop, stood life-size statues of every conceivable monster from history. Wolfman, The Mummy and Dracula to name a few, were mixed in with Jack the Ripper and other assorted characters. It was as the boys were walking around that Ricky came face to face with his zombie.
    The statue was standing in the far corner, and as Ricky looked up into the dead eyes and pale face, he recognized it immediately. This was the same one he’d seen in the basement window when he had fetched the ball. On a workbench were supplies, such as glue and wax, and this was the odd smell they had noticed, the odor being the chemicals to make the statues.
    “ But how?” Ricky asked. “I saw this zombie at the window and I heard it moan.”
    Mr. Rollin nodded from across the room. He was leaning against his workbench as he watched the two boys with amusement.
    “ Sorry, to disappoint you, son, but what you heard was an old man trying to move that heavy statue without
     
    a dolly. I thought I could do it but it was too heavy. That’s when I leaned it against the basement wall and went to get the dolly from upstairs where I’d left it. I’m not as young as I used to be and a groan and a moan are a few of the things that slip out of me every now and then.”
    Ricky nodded in understanding, feeling slightly silly. Eric was off to the right, admiring a life-like statue of a cannibal. The teeth were filed down and the head was bald, a spear in the left hand. Eric touched the arm and it came back with a light film on it.
    “ What is this stuff?” Eric asked.
    “ That’s wax, son. I make all these statues out of wax. That’s why I work in the basement. It’s cooler down here so the wax doesn’t melt. Then, when they’re done, I send them off to different wax museums across the country. I have a few in Las Vegas, too. I did a special one of Elvis Presley.”
    “ Who’s that?” Ricky asked.
    Mr. Rollin waved the question away, realizing the boys weren’t impressed with names such as Elvis.
     
     
    “ It doesn’t matter, son. So, are you two happy now that you know my little secret?”
    “ What secret?” Eric asked.
    “ The secret that I work in wax. I keep to myself and you two are the first people in the neighborhood to know. I always ship my statues at night when everyone is inside so no one knows what I do here. I like my privacy.”
    “ Okay, if that’s true, then why is your yard so messy? Why don’t you cut the grass or trim the trees?” Ricky asked. “Why does the house look like a haunted house?”
    “ Ricky, don’t ask that stuff,” Eric snapped.
    “ Why not? It’s a valid question,” Ricky said defiantly.
    “ No, it’s okay, I actually do have an answer for you,” Mr. Rollin replied. “You see, since my wife passed away a few years ago, I just haven’t had the heart to keep the place up. You see, she loved to work in the yard, paint the trim on the house and things like that. Since she’s been gone, I guess I’ve just lost the will to want to do any of that. Until you brought it up, I guess I never really thought