The Big Whisk

What you mix together smells

I’ve only stayed at two B&B’s in my entire life. By far my favorite was the Kathy Wand house in Savannah, Ga. At least until I found out the truth about them. Now I’ll never stay at a B&B again.

Gerry and I found this place ten years ago, when we were just learning our way around Savannah. It was in a nice neighborhood and the rooms were cozy, but what kept us going back were the kind people that ran the place.

Sandy and Lezzie were the best hosts you could ever ask for. They had coffee ready early in the morning and some of the best breakfast I’ve ever had.

They only had one rule “Stay out of the kitchen.”

That was easy enough for Gerry and I. We both hated to cook, but we loved to eat and the food was unparalleled to anything we’d eaten before.

On our 6th stay, I found myself unable to sleep. I spent the night in and out of consciousness and finally decided to get up and get some coffee.

Normally, the coffee sat on the huge table in the dining room of the B&B, but due to the time, the coffee hadn’t been made.

I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but I went into the kitchen to make a pot. There on the sink, I saw the biggest whisk I’d ever seen in my life, but even worse was the smell coming from it.

I looked on the stove and boiling slowly was the largest pot I’d ever seen in a non-commercial grade kitchen.

As soon as I saw it, I knew I should have turned around and got out of there, but curiosity got the better of me and I had to look. Just as I was about to peak inside, I heard someone coming.

Hiding just outside the back door, I peaked in the window. To my horror, there was Lezzie struggling to mix up whatever was in the pot with the big whisk.

She opened the back door slightly and the smell almost brought me to my knees.

The pot smelled like formaldehyde and turpentine. Then I smelled something else, dead bodies. I waited until Lezzie left the kitchen and went in to see what was in the pot, but the big whisk caught my attention.

On the big whisk, there was hair, dried blood, chips from teeth and what looked like tiny pieces of intestines. I ran back to my room and vomited. I woke Gerry up and told him we had to get the hell out of there.

Sandy and Lezzie have called us several times over the years to check on us, but we’ve never answered the phone. We’ve even looked at their reviews online and everyone talks about how amazing the food is.

It makes me sick just thinking about what we may have been eating all those years. To this day I wonder what they were using the big whisk to stir up or rather who.

T.K. McDonald gives you twists, turns and teasers in every story. She’s here to scare you, make you laugh and cry all at once. Subscribe to her page for more great stories.