Chapter Text
Wednesday was stewing as she glared out the window at the fast-passing passing dark shadows of leafless trees outside the window. There was nothing to stop the bitter reflection of wasting three full days of her life through nonsense on a required botany trip for her grade level. The conditions of borrowed university ‘housing’ they’d been forced to squalor in had likely given them all a fungal infection. Wednesday was so thoroughly spent on her peers’ idiocrasy that had been on full display, she didn’t care that the six-hour bus ride back to Jericho was going straight through the night. They’d be back around three in the morning, and she was eager to dramatically dash up the steps back to the residence hall she once dreaded stepping foot into.
The only positive thing about the entire ordeal was that they had been given grace not to be forced to trounce through the woods in their Nevermore Uniforms. In layers (because she knew how to survive, unlike many of her classmates who had dressed for a fashion show, apparently, instead of time spent outdoors), Wednesday was comfortable in her cargo pants. The pockets were filled with her standard tools and tricks to get out of most any situation. Adjusting for the comfort of a long drive back, and to avoid her skin touching any more surfaces and catching any additional bacteria that lingered on the back of a bus filled with teenagers, Wednesday pulled the black hood over her hair. She hoped it also sent the pertinent message of don’t talk to me.
“Are you sure you want to do the sustained silence thing?” Enid wondered beside her, interrupting her brooding. Wednesday glared at the colorful form beside her – Enid in her thin pink leggings with a very impractical skirt over top and a long-sleeve shirt with clashing pattern that actually made her eyes sore to look at. “Because I think you’d be kind of into this K-drama, it’s called All of Us are Dead -”
“This anti-intellectual trip and subsequent twelve hours roundtrip of travel time have me wishing I were dead, too,” She quickly shut her down. Though, she didn’t fully mean to. Out of all of the people she’d been trapped with during three days of hell on earth, Enid had been the least irritating and most useful among them. Of course, living with her for so long, she knew when she could push Wednesday’s buttons and when to leave her be. Even if she’d dressed for the fashion show and not a forest examination project, Enid had not been part of the reason she wanted so desperately to be back at school. She wouldn’t even mind that they’d be going back up for more extended time together.
“Ugh, whatever. I’m putting my headphones in. But if you change your mind and decide you want to talk, I’m here! Don’t feel like you’re bugging me, because you’re for sure not.”
Part of Wednesday appreciated her invitations – to watch, and to chat, or neither – as Enid always seemed to strike the balance that Wednesday needed in her limited relationships with people. Thing crawled out of Wednesday’s backpack and into her lap, tapping the plot of the show being about zombies and that Wednesday ought to give it a chance.
“I am the only one on this bus with the ability to not only survive but thrive during an apocalypse. I’m not watching a bunch of teenagers bumble their way through it – I already know how that ends for my peers. They couldn’t survive an hour off this bus if they pulled over and sent us out into the dark.”
Thing crawled up Enid’s arm to watch over her shoulder, where she giggled, passing him one of her earbuds. Wednesday didn’t question the auditory mechanics of that as he held it up in the open space between his thumb and forefinger.
Even though she’d likely be useless in a survival situation simply due to her overreliance on technology, Wednesday glared around at the bus’s occupants, deciding that if she had to survive in the woods with anyone there, the default winner would of course be Enid. She’d not only been more tolerable than the rest but had also proven to be a surprisingly good partner over their three-day nonstop plant journey. Perhaps she simply knew best and allowed Wednesday to take the lead on the project, paying just enough attention to contribute when directed – but Wednesday had actually somewhat enjoyed working with her, as much as anyone could enjoy having mandatory fun.
She glanced at her roommate and best friend out of the corner of her eye, observing how she stared at her screen, looking exhausted from their trip. Her eyes darted from Enid’s new hairstyle to her red-stained cheeks, windburned from all the time they’d spent outside in the Northeastern November cold.
Changing her mind as Enid suggested she might, Wednesday softly said, “I hated this trip.” Enid hit pause and Thing put the earbud down, eager to listen to Wednesday instead. “But I would have hated it even more if I hadn’t been on it with you.”
“Awe, Wednesday! That is so sweet,” Enid cooed at her, and she tried not to visibly recoil, immediately regretting saying anything. Enid gave her knee a squeeze, making a distinct sort of flutter spread across her abdomen. (It happened almost every time Enid touched her lately, which was often.) “I have a lot of friends on this trip, but I’d really only want to have been on the ride if you went along.” She kept her right hand on Wednesday’s leg, swiped up on her phone with her left and navigated to the colorful pinwheel application, opening the pictures she’d taken of the group in the forest on their trip and some in the cabin they’d been forced into. In every shot that featured Wednesday, she was holding her hands in front of her face, turned around, or had her hood pulled over her eyes in the very least. There was only one photo where she was looking directly at the camera, and it was obvious that Enid had actually simply caught her mid-sentence that she was in the middle of speaking, and she was glaring at the phone that was shoved in her face.
“Why don’t you ever let me take photos of you? I swear, people don’t even think we’re friends because we have zero pics together on my Instagram.”
“One, I will not be perceived on your social media application, because I do not want my likeness to be memorized by artificial intelligence.” Wednesday rolled her eyes, she hated the internet for so many reasons. “And two, it’s no one’s business what I do. If I wanted people to know something about myself, I’d tell them. They don’t need to learn it by mindlessly scrolling. And three, much like the Victorians, I am not unconvinced that a little piece of a person’s soul is stolen each time their photograph is taken.”
Enid blinked at her, likely surprised by not only the content of what she’d had to say, but merely by hearing Wednesday say so many words in a singular string together like that. She didn’t comment on the length of her small ramble though, merely wondered, “What do you mean by your soul? Do you even believe in that stuff? That’s borderline normie-shit, isn’t it?”
“Having a photo taken is freezing a moment in time forever. I don’t need this exact second to be locked in a space-time continuum, with me being this version of myself exactly who I am now, forever immortalized in either digital or print format.”
“Whatever, weirdo,” Enid giggled. “I mean that with love. You’re my favorite weirdo and I love your weird more than anyone else’s, but I will forever be on a stealth mission to attempt to take a nice photo of you so that I can have my high school bestie immortalized forever as she is at this stage,” She said dryly, half accurately getting Wednesday’s tone right. She was about to slug her and continue to explain her theory on the potential implication of whether or not outcasts as a whole believed in the concept of souls when something else more disturbing captured her attention extremely quickly and suddenly.
Wednesday wrinkled her nose as she smelled an awful, familiar sort of burning that only meant one thing. She brushed Enid’s hand off where it had remained on her leg for so long without being chopped off and stood, earning the glare from their new botany teacher whom she swore had an agenda against her. (Though – Wednesday supposed she understood, he was probably afraid of her platform shoes that had been related but determined to be an inconclusive possibility for their previous teacher’s death.) “Addams, take a seat.”
“The bus is on fire,” She said nonchalantly.
“Addams, I’m not playing games.”
“Usually, I play with matches, but it actually wasn’t me. There is combustion occurring somewhere in the engine that is not supposed to…” She looked around, though it was difficult in the unlit, country highway road to see, she squinted and let out a sigh as the color she managed to decipher was worse than she’d hoped. If it had been white, she might’ve been able to do something about it with a tool from her vest or cargo pants, but the gray, thick plums told her otherwise. “The smoke coming from the back of the bus now would seem to indicate that this bus is on fire as well.”
“Did you do this, Addams?!” The man asked, standing with a panicked expression, getting the too-old Nevermore bus driver to pull over. Wednesday crossed her arms as the smell intensified and the smoke completely blocked the already limited view out the window.
“Yes. I was having so much fun on this trip, I decided to extend our time together in the woods instead of returning to campus for a real shower and a decent meal.”
“Um, Wednesday? What’s happening, for real?” Enid wondered with a very concerned tone, reaching over for her hand.
Letting her hold it for more than a few seconds, Wednesday answered, “Likely poor maintenance routines and an electrical issue. Let’s deboard,” Wednesday said, tugging her to stand as the rest of the class scrambled off. Their teacher attempted to keep order, but Wednesday merely detangled herself from Enid and tried to follow the driver over to where the engine was located at the back of the bus.
He grumbled, “What do you know about large engine repair?”
“The basics,” Wednesday shrugged. He blinked at her in the dim lighting – his wrinkled face illuminated by the still-on break lights and flashes on phones that were pointed at them by her curious, worried peers. She rolled her eyes. “Probably more than you. Where is the toolkit?”
“There ain’t gonna be anything in my kit that can fix an electrical problem. Gonna have to call somebody.” As an actual fire broke out on the wheel well, Wednesday could hear the teacher calling the emergency services, while the driver ran back on board and attempted to put it out with a fire extinguisher. His inability to position the hose and nozzle to spray the white foam concerned her almost as much as his driving had.
Wednesday instinctively took over but growled a little when she experienced failure with it as well. Turning the red canister over, she felt a surge of frustration wash over her as she looked at the date. “This expired before I even started as a student here! What kind of school sends a group of students on a screaming metal death trap without at least having a proper, functional fire extinguisher on board?!” She nearly moaned, looking at her peers, lifting her arms incredulously in what she knew was a lost cause. “And nobody here has combustion abilities?” There were actual crickets behind them in the constantly changing environmental temperatures that allowed the insects to sing away in the surprisingly warm November weather that night. (At least they wouldn’t freeze to death on the side of the road.) “Figures. A bus full of freaks and not a single one of us can control fire. Now we have to wait like common people.”
Wednesday watched as the driver opened the compartments with their gear, tossing it all out before their personal property could incinerate along with the bus – haphazardly putting their bags in the dried-up part of the ditch they were pulled over next to, an incredible metaphor for how things were going to turn out for them that night, she was sure. Turning around, she observed as Thing patted Enid’s shoulder reassuringly – Wednesday should have figured he’d be useless in an actual crisis. She rolled her eyes as the group started to slowly realize – it was going to be one heck of a long night.
In what should have been a predictable series of events, Wednesday watched the teenage outcasts descend into madness as they waited an extensive period of time for rural emergency services to arrive and assist, likely all aided by volunteers who’d already been at home, feet up in the recliner watching the news and sipping beer. In the extended wait, the flames licking at the under carriage were starting to spread further onto the bus, reducing the chance of it being saved by an overnight mechanic. Her classmates began to film vapid little videos for their social media presence, including a group dance where somehow, three girls already knew the same choreography as We Didn’t Start the Fire played in the background, followed by Bianca and her Pitch Slap friends apparently doing a cover of a song, but changing one of the lyrics to, “This bus is on fire! (Fire, fire!)”
“I’m starting to wish I was on fire,” Wednesday grumbled as she precariously sat beside Enid, who’d put herself on a fallen tree that was threatening to collapse into part of the ditch that retained water about thirty feet away from their manmade disaster. Enid hovered over the ditch, far deeper on that side than it was closer to the bus, looking quite miserable. One wrong move, and the lack of balance on either side was going to create a new disaster between them if the log split in half. “Why aren’t you participating in teenage festivities to celebrate the bus fire?”
“Because I have a feeling that this problem is not going to get solved tonight.” Enid bit her lip. “And I really don’t think I’m going to like what that will mean for us.”
Wednesday heard sirens, finally, and glanced behind them to see a simple pick-up truck coming down the road – her prediction was correct; it was a largely volunteer based crew, and it was going to be a minute.
A tow-truck actually arrived before the firetruck, and a police officer came next, starting to gather information. Wednesday wanted to interfere, but Enid’s sharp, “Wednesday, please, don’t?” Caused her to stay seated and observe the incompetence from afar.
Finally, the firetruck did show up – and two men in actual gear came out with hoses, the volunteers quickly suiting up from the back of the vehicle to join them.
But there was only so much Wednesday could take as she found forty different errors in their methods. Before Enid could stop her, she slid all the way over back to the grass and stood off the log. Unfortunately, the lack weight of her and her sudden movement created yet another predictable outcome with the imbalance on the delicate bark.
The fallen tree snapped and while Thing flew up and landed on his fingertips on the side of the road, Enid’s gravity and heavier (though no one would know it) werewolf frame sent her straight down into the standing murky water below. Wednesday found a churning sensation in her stomach that she supposed most people experienced as guilt when Enid sniffed pitifully as she stood up in the few inches of brown roadside water. Wednesday carefully slid herself down the side of the ditch, holding onto a root that extended from the ditch, extending her other hand as she tried to help her. “Don’t touch me,” Enid muttered miserably, trying to climb up, slipping, and actually letting out a few tears as she attempted again.
Not wanting to tell her what to do to make it worse, Wednesday watched her struggle three times while Thing signed advice that she passive aggressively ignored. “Hey, Enid?” Wednesday called her.
“Don’t make this any worse than it already is!” She cried, sliding again, letting out an actual cry as she smacked the side of the ditch with a near howl.
Trying to be gentle as it had been her fault, Wednesday offered, “I was just going to suggest perhaps walking up about twenty feet where the ditch increases in elevation and you can walk right out of it,” She said simply, leading the way, sure Enid was following with her metaphorical tail between her legs.
Making it back to the scene where the firefighters were still struggling to get the flames put out, Wednesday wanted to tend to the actual disaster, but the one behind her was somehow taking precedence in her heart over the logic fighting her head.
She found Enid’s bag in the pile of the others, slung it over her shoulder, then walked Enid into the woods behind a row of evergreen trees, where there was just enough light from the flames illuminating the side of the road for them to see what they were doing. Thing tried to follow, but Wednesday tilted her head. “Privacy, honestly. Go increase the pressure on the hose – I know it’s a mobile unit, but they need to be at 280 PSI minimum for an electrical fire with a diesel engine.” He signed back quickly. “I don’t care how dangerous that is! Everyone is going to be in danger if they don’t find a way to get me home by daylight.” He took off with a scamper of his fingers, motivated by the possibility of Wednesday’s even worse mood. “Here,” She said, almost softly, to Enid, unzipping the backpack and taking out the clothes that she’d had on the day before. “Put this on instead.”
“But that’s the outfit that I fell into the poison oak in!” Enid whined and rolled up her wet sleeves to reveal her rash. “I’m going to be disfigured if I can’t get this treated soon! The anti-itch potion that Thing put together is working for the itch, but can’t heal it!”
Wednesday let out a breath through her nose as she stared at her with a seriously expression. “And the outfit that you came in is…?”
Enid let out a blubber, “That’s the one that I got the sap all over! It’s in the quarantine bag, probably getting eaten alive by flames right now!”
Saying nothing, Wednesday huffed and marched over to her own backpack, retrieving an outfit that would suffice, passing Enid a pair of black canvas pants that were an appropriate choice for the woods, with a black crewneck sweatshirt that had white stripes on the sleeves. The gesture made her crying cease immediately, and instead, a dopy sort of smile appeared. “What?!” Wednesday demanded, losing patience and feeling exasperated by the transpiring events of the evening.
“This is just…really sweet. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Literally. To anyone. Ever.”
Enid let out a little giggle as she started to peel unabashedly out of her wet clothes – never caring too much about those kind of boundaries between them. Wednesday turned around, refusing to flush, then doubled down on that refusal when Enid added, “It’s probably going to be a pretty obvious gesture when I come out of the woods in all black. But we’ll glare at anyone who tries to say anything nice about you.”
“I’m going to go help with the fire,” Wednesday said by way of ignoring her, stomping over to the emergency service workers, who finally were starting to get it under control. Wednesday was not surprised, as Thing was sitting on top of the fire engine control panel adjusting the hose pressure per her directions. “Normies,” She whispered, shaking her head as the fire was finally nearly out.
The botany teacher was in a fluster as he paced rapidly on the phone, trying to make arrangements while apparently the only officer on duty took statements from some from some of the students and the bus driver.
“We’re going to take you guys down to the station until we can sort this out,” The mustached man said after collecting information that would likely remain in his notepad until well after the human race ceased to exist - as there was no way he’d be following up on it. “Frickin’ just what we all wanted, a bunch of outcast kids here the day before a big holiday. Why weren’t you kids out of school already?”
“We were out of school. Clearly,” Wednesday warned him. “And police nationally have had enough trouble for targeting minority groups over the last few years, have you not? You’ll treat us just the way you would any other group in town who would need your assistance.”
“Addams, watch it!” Their teacher said in his frantic state, not even sure what was going on as he threatened her with absolutely nothing.
She rolled her eyes, adjusting her backpack – not about to let anyone else touch it. Enid came out to join them again, and the sight of her in all black made Wednesday actually blink.
“-Addams, right?” She turned her attention back to the officer. “Ain’t nothin’ against outcasts – just don’t really have the time for anything extra over the next twenty-four hours.”
Wednesday mumbled with an eye roll, about to go on a tangent about the basic tenants of good policing that were outlined in law enforcement contracts she’d long memorized. “If only there were entire agencies created to -”
The officer wasn’t playing around though. He adjusted his hat, tucked everything into his pockets and demanded, “Cut your sass, we’re headed into town – you, Addams, in my car so I can keep an eye on ya. Don’t need you sassin’ my guys who left their wives on the night before Thanksgiving to help you lot!”
“Hardly her first time in the back of a cop car,” Bianca teased.
“You too, all sassy mouths are in my car – I’m the only one getting paid tonight, rest’a these guys are just volunteers, they don’t need your crap.”
“Oh! I’m sassy, too!” Enid said, raising her hand and Thing crawled hurriedly from the firetruck into the police cruiser when the door was opened. Wednesday observed her peers gathering their belongings and jumping into the back of the volunteer firefighter pickup trucks as the tow truck was finally able to start loading the very broken down, charred out bus. Wednesday stared at each driver before finally letting herself be closed into the vehicle, demanding with her leer they treat outcasts with respect, even if she didn’t respect her peers, she wouldn’t have it be because of their differences (just their lack of critical thinking skills and inane interests).
🔥
At the police station, Wednesday paced back and forth in the ‘child and family’ room they’d been placed in nearly forty minutes after arrival, which was nearly thirty minutes from the scene with the bus fire -they really were in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t exactly have patience to begin with, but any that had been settled within her prior to the incident was lost. Her peers, somehow, didn’t seem to care a lick about the precarious situation they’d been subjected to. They were content to entertain themselves with the available board games in the room which only seemed to have about half the pieces, and scrolling, scrolling, scrolling on their phones. The group of sixteen-year-olds had largely mellowed out a bit from their over-enthusiastic response to the bus fire, and at the nearly eleven o’clock hour – it was getting too late to be energetic about anything but finding a way back to Nevermore that night.
“Wednesday,” Enid grumbled groggily after tucking her phone back in her backpack, standing with her hands almost nervously intertwined in front of her. She did earn Wednesday’s brief pause in her attempt to wear a hole through the floor, still slightly disconcerted as she looked at her usually peppy roommate in all black. “I know this is like – so not for you, just waiting, but…maybe come sit, relax? I could find some video of earthquakes or maybe some chimp escapes if it would perk you up a little and distract you?”
“I don’t need to be perky,” She snarked. “I need to get back to Nevermore.”
Enid offered her just a little bit of sympathy, invading her space as she always did (not that Wednesday really minded when it was her). She brushed their shoulders together just slightly as she nearly teased, “You hate to admit it, but you’re a creature of comfort. You like your own things, your own routines.”
“Who doesn’t?” Wednesday argued. “I’m not against a change of scenery – but I prefer caves or haunted, dilapidated castle ruins, not the family and children room that usually hosts parenting time for children who are victims of their parents’ Fentanyl addiction.”
“Wow, judge much?” Bianca scoffed as she appeared to the left of Enid. Wednesday gave a boneless gesture to the bulletin board behind her that was littered in drug rehabilitation treatment options and support groups for children of addicts. “Okay fine – whatever. But get a grip. I’m sure we won’t be here much longer. Just chill before you get us all investigated for suspicious activity. We’re already outcasts in a small town that isn’t Jericho. Who knows what the people here think of us? Don’t prove them right with your antics.”
As Wednesday was about to blow her away with a well-placed verbal jab, the door swung open and their botany teacher, who looked like he was going to soil himself in fear, and the deputy who’d driven them to the station came to depart horrific news.
“Your school bus was clearly beyond any Roadside Assistance for a quick fix,” The mustachioed man started, rubbing his hands together, Wednesday assumed gleefully like the evil arm of the justice branch that he belonged to. “And given it’s after eleven on the night before a federal holiday, it seems there’s not going to be a mechanic available to try and get it fixed until at least Friday.”
The start of mutters among her peers had Wednesday’s shoulders rising in tension while her pitiful excuse for an educator departed more bad news. “Nevermore’s bus two is headed back to Vermont from Shenandoah, and won’t even cross those lines until well into tomorrow. Admin has tried to get us another charter bus, but has had no luck for tonight, and there isn’t exactly an Uber pool out here that could even start to get us close to home.”
“Isn’t there a train, out of Brunswick?” Bianca asked hopefully as perhaps the reality started to sink in for everyone else and hope was beginning to be lost.
“Yeah, but that’s already two hours away, and with the holiday, they’re running reduced rail.” The officer cleared his throat and clearly established, “You’re not getting home tonight.”
The resounding groans and the start of sound of outrage had Wednesday’s blood pressure high.
Her teacher raised his hands, trying to make himself a victim of the situation. “Look, the last place I want to be is stuck with any of you kids any longer than we’ve already been together. This project is off the syllabus from here on out. But, there is good news. We’ve got a bus coming – Friday at noon, we’ll be home around six PM.”
“We’ve got to stay here for like, two whole days?!” One of the girls asked in the back and Wednesday agreed with her feeling, but could hardly believe her poor perception of time. It would be…thirty-six hours that they’d be stuck.
The police officer looked exhausted as he explained, “I can’t even tell you how much work it would be for me to pull out the emergency supplies for evacuations to get you kids settled into some place sleep-able tonight and tomorrow. Yeah, you’re stuck here with us for the holiday, but in a small town, folks come together. I made enough calls and have found you all a place to stay and somewhere to eat for the feast.”
“How much did my family cough up,” Wednesday deadpanned.
Her teacher gave a tired, irritated smile, which let her know that the extended stay was likely graciously being paid for out of her family’s vault, not just out of the goodness of some townie’s heart. “Enough. Administration contacted your families, though they’d already heard from most of you – and they were largely understanding, that this is just…an inconvenience but one that is harming no one. It seems like for any of you – the closest would have been a ten-hour drive, and that’s one way – so they aren’t coming to get you either. You’ll be safe here, and you’re not going to have to sleep on FEMA cots either. We’ll be completely fine.”
With the way her mood was souring, Wednesday wasn’t so sure he should promise that to the group.
He began to explain that there was a motel in town with plenty of openings (Wednesday was sure that the vacancy was for a reason at peak holiday travel time), but not quite enough. The officer finished explaining the arrangements, “I’ve got a lovely family who has two open rooms in their bed and breakfast that is closed for the season. There will be ten of you at the motel, and three at the B&B – your teacher already made the room assignments.”
The man started rambling about who would be bunking with whom, “…and of course, Wednesday and Enid – roommates, you’ll be in the Glick’s B&B’s second room.”
She huffed, rolling her eyes, certainly more cut out for the roadside murder motel than a cutesy mom and pop owned property where she suspected it was part of the ‘fun’ to pump their own water or some other urban cosplaying rural digital marketing scheme that the family had come up with. Enid slinked up beside her with a little smile. “In the very least, I’m sure it’s far more sanitary than the motel,” She offered Wednesday a sunny side, which she only took because it was probably true. She couldn’t imagine the sorts of disease that her classmates were potentially going to leave the motel with. Bianca was the other Nevermore student assigned there, and the officer would be taking them as the motel was apparently within walking distance.
As the group moved through the stages of grief very quickly to acceptance of their situation, Wednesday wanted to put up more resistance, but knew it was incredibly futile. Even if she reached out to the extended Addams family for assistance, it would only lead to a chaotic adventure back to school, which would ordinarily be exciting, but she simply wanted to be back in her space with her things.
Having a feeling she was going to be put to farm work for the next day and a half, she tried to keep her knuckles from being pure white in balled-up frustration. She had her ear nearly chewed off from her teacher, promising to make life miserable for her if she even considered pulling any stunts. Still, she found it interesting that the educator had separated himself from her – perhaps he just knew that if anything went down, she’d be able to handle it.
Enid was very in tune with her as they were led outside and observed the rest of the class being marched like children in an orderly way down the road. “Hey, at least we’re together! Look, this sucks – but I think we’re going to be able to have a little bit of fun. And fingers crossed – they’ve got a washer and dryer we can use so that we’re not wearing these clothes until Friday. Not that I’m above borrowing the ‘fit, I think I look very fashionable in this,” She said as she posed playfully.
“We’re hopefully going to have a way better time than everyone else – imagine, being stuck with professor pansy for another thirty-six hours,” Bianca added with a shiver up her spine.
“Devil you know versus devil you don’t,” Wednesday grumbled as she slid all the way into the squad car, letting Thing settle on her shoulder. He was signing something, trying to get her attention, but Wednesday was deftly ignoring everyone else on the ride over, refusing to speak any words of gratitude when they pulled up to the house.
As she could have expected, it was a social-media worthy, picturesque piece of Americana that looked like it belonged on the front of a greeting card. Norman Rockwell himself couldn’t have painted something so stereotypical as they walked up the front steps of the large house, where they were greeted by a tall man with a thick head of black hair and dated glasses on. Thing had the presence of…hand to slip back into Wednesday’s bag as not to freak him out to terribly when they were being extended a courtesy. “Hey, Officer!”
“Joel, I can’t thank you enough for taking these kids off my hands. Glad you’re in town, bud. I’m sure your mother won’t like this in the morning -”
“My mother doesn’t like anything,” He chuckled. “Except for having me home for the holidays to boss me around and continue to rag on me for not having remarried and refusing to take over the business.”
“Well, either way – it’s appreciated. If they give you any trouble, let me know. Girls, this is Joel Glicker, son of Mrs. Glicker who owns this place, by whom you shall address. He answered the call, and you’ll thank him for doing so.”
He opened the door and the deputy couldn’t have peeled off the property any quicker if he tried. “Come on in, oh, shoes – here…don’t want to track any dirt in the house…”
Wednesday found it peculiar that they’d need to remove their shoes at a bed and breakfast, but who was she to judge someone’s commitment to cleanliness. The front foyer made it obvious that the house was somewhat split into two parts – a residence and the more…guest-like experience, based on the rooms with doors and those that were open and invited free travel. Two sets of stairs divided it into what she could assume to be the family and patron sides for sleeping arrangements. They were first asked to wash their hands, then led into a small living room, where Bianca properly introduced them, taking the lead on graciousness.
“Wednesday, huh? That’s a cool name. Like January Jones – I like it! And Enid, nice to meet you – love the pink and blue, very rebellious, and thanks a ton, Bianca. Look, my mother stopped taking reservations after October because it’s just too much on her to run the place year ‘round since my dad passed, so she’s not exactly going to be thrilled when she comes out of her Ambien coma in the morning. But – I’ll smooth it over and everything will be fine. She’s got some people coming over for Thanksgiving and always over does it, so there will be plenty of food to go around, I’ll just need to you know, talk her down from the ledge. Don’t interact with her until I talk to you in the morning, okay?”
Imagining how she’d react to discovering unwanted teenage guests in her own home, Wednesday could agree to his simple conditions. “Your teacher told me you were on some awful plant trip? My allergies could never – but I’m sure that also meant you haven’t gotten to scrub under your nails in a few nights. I’ll show you upstairs to the guest quarters so you can decontaminate yourselves.”
“Um, speaking of, we are so, so, so thankful for your…hospitality?” Enid glanced at Wednesday, who confirmed that was the word she was looking for. “But is there any way we could also use a washer and dryer?”
“Oh, yeah! Now we don’t use fabric softener, the stuff gives me hives that could kill me, but the goat soap is from a farm up the road, and it works great. Way less chemical exposure, keeps your clothes in better shape than the store-bought stuff.”
“Thank you,” Enid sighed in relief as he walked them down the hall, showing them the main areas including the laundry room and the kitchen – where he had already set up a little midnight snack for them. “These are nut-free and dairy-free,” He said as he gestured to the crackers that he’d put on the table along with a bowl of fruit. “Any other allergens?”
Confirming that they had none, Enid had one more small request. “You seem to know a lot about the human body. Any chance that you have something for poison oak?” She rolled up her sleeves, revealing her rash. Joel’s eyes just about burst out of his skull as he dashed out of the room and returned with a kit, explaining which of the sixteen ointments inside would be most effective. Enid thanked him with her brightest smile before they followed him up the stairs to see the rest of the arrangements before digging in.
“Bianca, here’s your space, pretty small – but it’s usually meant to accomodate a kid when a whole family stays,” He said with an apologetic shrug as they stepped into a room with a twin-size bed and a shelf that appeared to hold a variety of Joel’s former toys – a basket of Legos, trains, and little character figurines. The classic quilt and rocking chair in the corner, along with dresser that had children’s books nearly placed on the surface had a quintessential farmhouse vibe to it, and while Wednesday partially wanted to extend the fire from earlier to the B&B as she simply didn’t want to be there, at least it was clearly maintained far better than the Nevermore bus.
“Then the bathroom is here, fresh towels in the cabinet…and Wednesday, Enid, down this way, your room is here,” He said, gesturing vaguely. Wednesday didn’t even glance inside as he rubbed his hands together with a shrug and said, “On that note, I’ll leave you all alone, I’m sure the last thing you want is to be tailed by a man in his late forties after midnight. If you need anything at all, I’m up the other set of stairs, first room on the right. The sign my mom painted on my door when I was born is still there. Can’t miss it. Night, girls – help yourself to anything before the morning, but…wait for my signal until then.”
In his awkward, slightly-slumped posture sort of way, Joel ambled down the steps, and around to the other side of the house. Bianca had already called dibs on the shower, slipping in with her backpack before either roommate could react.
Enid shrugged, nodding at the room. “Let’s go unpack and get some laundry started?”
Appreciating her idea, Wednesday followed her in, then stutter-stopped immediately in the doorway.
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but certainly – having her own bed was on the list of demands she had, even for an emergency housing situation.
“I’ll take the couch,” Wednesday announced stiffly as she examined the full-size mattress on a vintage, rod-iron frame. There wasn’t a sofa in the room, so she meant the one downstairs –
“Oh, don’t be so extra, Wednesday! We already share a room every frickin’ night; we can share a bed for two. I’m so dog-tired, no werewolf pun intended, I’m going to crash the minute I hit the sack.”
Wednesday’s heart was racing, and it was not difficult to identify why the thought of sleeping directly next to her best friend had her teeth clenched and shoulders pinched halfway to her earlobes. Going in with a mean stick, she jabbed, “You snore sometimes. You grind your teeth. Your werewolf body temperature is a built-in furnace. I won’t sleep a wink and my irritation will be double tomorrow what it is on a good day. I’ll take the couch downstairs.”
“No, you won’t.” Enid rolled her eyes, clearly dusting off Wednesday’s half-true insults with practice as she’d heard it all before. “One, Joel asked literally one thing of us after being so nice as to let us stay here? And that’s to not let his mom see us before he has a chance to talk to her in the morning. Knowing you, she’ll wake you up with a scream and then you’ll do something in response that gets that officer out here again and we’ll be staying on a motel floor covered in roaches and who knows what else! No thank you.”
“Then I’ll create a blanket fort, I’m sure there are plenty,” She said as she opened a trunk at the end of the bed, which did indeed house extra quilts. She thought that she might also need the extra sheet she was about to pull out to wrap her dead body up in if her heart actually exploded out of her rib cage, as she was fairly sure it was about to.
Suddenly, Enid’s werewolf strength and speed came out of her as she whacked Wednesday’s hands out of the way and slammed the trunk shut, sitting on top of it with crossed arms. Wednesday didn’t flinch, but stared her down in surprise. “You’re tired and cranky and just want to get back to school. So do I. But that’s not happening tonight, and neither are your theatrics. You’re not sleeping on the couch, you’re not sleeping on the floor, you’re going to grow up and sleep in the available space next to me and you’re not going to say anything else rude to me about it!”
Her chest was heaving in frustration and Wednesday was about to argue until she was blue in the face, even if she knew that when it came to Enid, it would be a losing battle (somehow, she always ended up giving in). There was a sudden tap on her shoulder, and Wednesday growled, “What, Thing?! We’re in the middle of a hostile negotiation.”
He pointed behind them to where a large display of Polaroid photos were clipped to string lights that took up the entirety of the back wall – all previous guests who’d stayed in the bed and breakfast over the years, it seemed. There were likely nearly a thousand, all smiling in the old-timey style photos from floor to ceiling.
Her family’s appendage skittered over to the decoration, then climbed up the wall to the third column of lights, poking to one that made Wednesday do a double take. Her brow wrinkled, and she squinted, sure she was seeing a prank at first, until a unique signature fully gave it away as real.
Hanging on the wall of the B&B was a picture of a teenage version of her mother, with a younger Joel – likely three or four years younger than her if she had to guess. Recognizing the distinct, neat cursive handwriting, Wednesday read her message regarding her stay:
To Joel Glicker, Thanks for everything! Morticia Frump
Wondering what on earth that meant, what the circumstances of her trip were, and what Joel had done to make it special, Wednesday took it off the clip and held it. “Awe, that’s your mom! Wednesday, that’s so uncanny! What are the chances?! Do you think he knew when he saw you?!”
Wanting to stomp over and up the other flight of stairs to demand the answers out of him, Wednesday shrugged. “Different last name – it’s been…thirty-some years. November of 1991…that’s just after my father was arrested for the murder that my mother actually committed. I wonder what the connection is to that and this place.”
“Ohh, a mystery! Look at that, this place is turning out to be fun for you already! And look at that, your mom didn't even lose her soul when she had her picture taken!"
"You can't lose what you didn't have to begin with," Wednesday tried to argue, but recognized her attempt at reconciling the whole thing to move on with the night.
Enid put her hands together in front of her and blinked up with those big, blue eyes that meant – Wednesday was going to relent and do whatever it was she asked. “Please don’t be a jerk to me?”
“Fine. But if you hog the blankets, I’m kicking you,” Wednesday said to deflect from how her stomach started to swirl with one of the worst gut feelings she’d ever had.
Pushing it away, as it was still an hour out from even having to actually face down her roommate in the same bed, Wednesday and Enid sorted their dirty clothes out, both having a pajama set that would be clean enough for the night. Leaving them on the bed before taking the rest to the laundry room down the stairs they located the organic soap that was discussed with Joel. All the products in the room seemed to be right from nature and Wednesday found herself curious over Joel’s dedication to avoid death by chemical contaminants.
Mixing dark and colored clothes together and really not caring as they just wanted them to be clean, Wednesday and Enid partook in the little snack that had been set out for them before Bianca arrived. Enid scrambled up the stairs for the next shower, apparently still miserable from her fall in the dirty ditch.
“I couldn’t help but notice you’re about to get a whole lot closer to your roommate,” Bianca teased, winking at Wednesday who let out a disgusted sound. “Hey…Wednesday,” She started softly, her entire presence changing as she wore a look of gentleness and sincerity that made Wednesday recoil. She nearly flinched when Bianca stated, “It’s…okay, and totally normal that you have feelings for her, you know.”
“What are you talking about?!” Wednesday demanded, feeling her pulse quicken again. Thing started tapping on the table beside her and she shoved him roughly, not wanting to hear it. “The only feeling I am experiencing right now is my absolute pinnacle of self-control kicking in so that I don’t go commit a B&E somewhere else instead of staying in this forsaken inn run by a hypochondriac and sleeping next to someone who could -”
“Yikes,” Bianca chuckled her interruption to herself before she bit into an apple, looking like a regal princess from a corrupt franchise even in the same pale blue crewneck she’d slept in for three nights straight. Wednesday was completely reeling as she chewed before stating, “Maybe this will be the experience that allows you to tune into the other feeling you so obviously have as well.”
“You’re going to be feeling a lot of pain if you don’t stop making baseless accusations.”
Thing made a gesture like he was running a home run around invisible bases, making Bianca laugh and give him a high-five. Wednesday slammed her fist into the table, barking at him, “If you’re such good friends, you can share a room with her tonight!”
He made a gesture that read ‘happily.’ Bianca scooped the hand into her own, smirking. “Some of us aren’t completely losing our cool over sharing a bed, because some of us don’t have a completely obvious crush on one another.”
The on one another part almost baited her, But Wednesday refused to bite any more. She stormed out of the kitchen and back up to the room she would soon be sharing with Enid, pacing to try and forget what was said.
She suddenly found herself looking at the photo of her teenage mother again, trying to discern meaning from it.
Her mother’s impossibly straight hair was blowing just slightly in the breeze, sticking to the black lipstick that she had been sporting for at least thirty years. Joel looked very nervous, but also delighted to have been asked to be in the photo with her. Trying to read her eyes, Wednesday tilted her head, seeing…a recovery of sadness in them that was unexpected, upon closer inspection.
“Ohmygod, I feel like a different person already – this stuff from Joel is totally helping the rash. He’s so handy! What a nice guy. Oh, are you trying to get a clue about what happened?” Enid asked, stepping in in her fluffy pink pajamas – looking far more like herself in the correct color palette, towel-drying her hair.
Distracted enough by her evolving curiosity of the past and briefly forgetting her fluster with the Enid situation, Wednesday gave a small nod. “Maybe. It’s interesting in the least; my mother would have been older than Joel, so I doubt anything happened between them, even if she was going through an emotional crisis after committing a murder. Not that I think she’d ever do that to my father, circumstances wouldn’t matter. They wouldn’t betray one another that way. I just wonder what the ‘thanks’ is for, that’s all. This place doesn’t exactly look like an ideal place to recover from atrocities. Really, she should have been reveling – she finally eliminated her stalker problem and got away with it.”
Enid rolled her eyes. “Well, you know all about a stalker problem,” She sighed, squatting down beside her, taking the photo into her own hands. She didn’t smell of anything fruity or floral like her usual scent after a shower, just…clean. Likely from the Joel-inspired fragrance free, all-natural soap, if Wednesday was to believe in the pattern of their unique location. “I don’t think your mother felt good about what she did – whether or not Garret Gates was harassing her for months or even years on end. I…wonder if she felt like she needed to run in case the Gates family came after her in revenge or something like that.”
That made Wednesday’s mouth turn from an indifferent line into a slight frown. “Whatever the case, let’s hope that the peace my mother found here will find us as well.” Enid tilted her head as she looked at Wednesday strangely – the comment quite uncharacteristic of her. Being so close to a clean Enid made her disoriented, Wednesday supposed. Finding her normal scowl, she declared, I’m going to wash the disappointment off of me. An impossible task, but I’ll try. Don’t wait up if you’re exhausted.”
Enid giggled on her way out the door and Wednesday stepped into the small, farmhouse bathroom that had a claw-foot tub in the middle with the shower head coming out from the wall. As she stepped in after turning on the water and peeling off her dingy clothes, she felt a damn near bolt of lightning strike her - and it wasn’t because the water was too hot (quite the opposite).
In her vision, her teenage mother was silently sobbing in the kitchen of the bed and breakfast, a corded phone pressed to her ear as she nodded, despite no one being able to see the gesture. “Yes. Okay. I will. Okay…okay, mama…” Her voice was tight as she struggled, trying not to let out a blubber. “Please, hurry? And if you can…Call Gomez’s parents? The Addams have plenty of money, surely they can buy his innocence if they have to! I know it’s not about…okay…okay. I love you, too, mama.”
As she put the phone back on the hook, she covered her face, falling to her knees on the tile as she hid a full-on shriek of a cry, trying to recover from her own misery.
“Um, Morticia?”
She sniffed and turned around, staring at a young, snively version of Joel, who looked like just about anyone could beat him up and steal his lunch money, punch him in the nose and break his glasses in half. It was surprising they weren’t held together with tape. He awkwardly held out a box of tissues, and a packet of pills from his crouched position. “You’ve been congested since your arrival, likely from the constant crying – but you might feel some relief at least to have the pressure of your sinuses. Though do take it easy on the Pseudoephedrine.”
The young Morticia wiped her eyes with a tissue. Blotchy skin and red hives which likely unnerved Joel were all around them. “Thank you, Joel. You’ve been so sweet. I fear that I don’t deserve your patience.”
He shrugged. “I might not be very experienced in the romance department, but even I can sense a broken heart. I’m sorry. Whoever dumped you is a real deadbeat. You’re a total catch!”
She gave a sad, watery smile. “My boyfriend didn’t…” She sighed, dabbing at her eyes. “He would never break up with me. Even if I wanted him to for his own safety,” She gave a sad little sigh and looked up. “I certainly don’t deserve him, either.”
Wednesday gasped, then shivered – as she’d never even gotten the water to the proper temperature, and she’d been standing under the icy spray, locked in a vision for too long. Her teeth chattered as she turned the faucet as hot as it would go, soaping herself up as quickly as she physically could to simply get out of the space.
She couldn’t stop shivering as she towel-dried and pulled on black and white gingham flannel pajamas, wishing they were fresh out of the dryer. She re-braided her hair, not about to let Bianca or Enid see it down, then practiced some deep breathing to access the logical and compassionate part of her brain. The first came naturally, the second was much harder to bring to the regular driver’s seat of her emotional state. If she were going to be spending the night in closer quarters to Enid without either of them coming to any harm, she had to try.
Feeling like a human popsicle, she was almost looking forward to…well, she found a reason to be lying beside Enid instead of in a heap on the hardwood floor, anyway.
About to enter the bedroom she was assigned, Wednesday paused her silent steps outside, listening in with no reservation for eavesdropping on Bianca and Enid who were whispering to one another inside. “…try. I mean, this is practically perfect timing, right? You said you wanted to at least talk about it all before the end of the semester.”
“…She’s very uncomfortable already. I don’t want to make it worse, freak her out and give her reason to do something stupid and impulsive here, where there’s no safety net for her like there is at Nevermore.”
Feeling like she couldn’t breathe, Wednesday slunk a little bit closer to the wall, trying to gather all that was being said.
“There’s never going to be a good time to tell her. You might as well just rip off the Band-Aid. Worst case scenario, the wound festers for a little while-”
“Ew. She’d like that, though…”
“But eventually, wounds go away. If it’s not what we’re thinking, and it’s not reciprocated, hopefully, it wouldn’t scar. But – there’s also the other possibility, and honestly? I think that’s where it’s headed. Don’t be a scaredy cat, wolf.”
Wednesday announced herself by letting the floorboard creak before stepping inside. “Bianca, you seem comfortable,” Wednesday said as she observed Enid already cozy in bed, and Bianca sitting on the empty side of it, Thing in the middle of them. “I’d hate to disrupt – I’ll take the twin mattress down the hall -”
“Nice try,” The siren said with a chuckle, giving Enid’s shoulder a little squeeze, then brushing by Wednesday purposefully. Thing followed, a metaphorical nose in the air as he stubbornly stayed stuck on what had been discussed between them downstairs.
Wednesday inspected the picture of her mother for the third time before taking it into her hands and placing it it on the nightstand next to the empty side of the bed. She turned off all the lights except the twinkle ones that housed the rest of the guest photos. S(he highly doubted Mrs. Glicker would be mandating one of her unwanted guests before they left to add to the collection once they left.)
Enid’s voice was far away, like she was afraid to talk, afraid to set Wednesday off when she was barely in an even-tempered sort of mood. “If you want, I can make myself a cozy wolf’s den on the floor. We used to do it at pup camp and I’m sure I can make myself comfortable enough.”
Wednesday said nothing, merely found the will to put herself through pure and utter discomfort. Without letting her reservations show on the outside any more, she lifted up the blankets, putting herself stiffly on her back, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes.
There was a long pause, and she could sense how uncomfortable Enid was, and how terrified to turn over or make a move she had become, not wanting to put Wednesday out. Letting out a sigh, she unfolded her arms after a few minutes of complete misery for both of them passed. Wednesday rolled onto her side. She tucked one hand under her pillow, letting the other lay limp beside her. Enid let out a breath of relief as she glanced at her in the dim light of the room. “You okay?” Enid asked in a sticky-sweet tone.
Wednesday didn’t confirm or deny as she explained, “It seemed my mother was on the run after she killed Garrett after all. I had a vision in the shower – Joel was comforting her with controlled substances, though I don’t think they were in the ‘90s, I think heroin was the drug of choice over meth back then. Either way, she said something about my father never leaving her, even if it would have been for his own safety.”
“OhEmGee, you had a vision in the shower? Wednesday!” Enid sat up, hovering anxiously over her. “Did you slip and fall? Did you hurt yourself?”
“No,” Wednesday clarified, “It was on the shorter side, I managed to remain vertical. I’m physically unharmed.”
“No you’re not, I know you, you feel like shit,” Enid muttered. She tentatively put a hand on her back as she sat up beside her and incorrectly assessed, “Your heart is still going like a hundred beats a minute!”
“That is standard resting heart rate, and it’s presently at one forty-two, which is very high.” She didn’t admit that it might not have actually been from the vision anymore as Enid was so close and touching her. But she knew that her roommate could hardly help it; Enid had become more concerned about Wednesday’s physical state after a few visions in the last year had left her in dire straits and even sometimes physically sick for a few hours afterwards. She rubbed her back and the act was unfortunately, just making her heart beat faster.
“Awe, Wednesday, I don’t know…do you want to go get some fresh air? Get a drink -?”
“I want to sleep,” She insisted – and that was true. The sooner she drifted into the unconscious valley of a hopefully pleasant nightmare, the sooner she’d forget about her uncomfortable situation and the closer they’d be to boarding a bus back to school.
“Are you sure? There’s nothing I can do for you?” Enid wondered.
It actually felt like a knife twisted into her side – the way she asked so thoughtfully. “I’m fine,” Wednesday muttered. Enid still hovered, and she tried to dismiss her. “Thank you.”
“Oh!” She seemed genuinely surprised by the phrase of gratitude, and Wednesday turned her face more into her pillow to hide any betrayal of a muscular twitch at her tone. “Oh. Well, um…of course, Wednesday. You know I’d do anything for you, anything so that you’re…comfortable. Are you okay? We can…I can really be the one to make a blanket pile -”
“Enid, go to sleep,” Wednesday decided, rolling away from her, tucking herself in a little more. She willed the next thirty-four and a half hours to pass by as quickly as possible, before the circumstances could turn into a full combustion of her steely constitution like the engine of the Nevermore bus.