Wenclair - a New Term at Nevermore

Chapter 53

There were many things to do. There was rarely the time to do them. But as Enid opened her eyes at three O'clock in the afternoon, on her day off thanks to the full moon, she made the decision to shoulder some of the weight carried by her long-suffering to-do list. The top item: clean out stuff. That could wait - further down the list were more desirable suggestions, like get Yoko a birthday present by April or change window colours to spring; and, having recently received the new window plastic in the post from a dubiously school-permissed online order, Enid decided to do the latter.

A stepladder was easily fetched from the hall cupboard and Enid set about (with the scraping tool that had last been used by Wednesday) finally matching the two sides of the window. Although it was not at all her aesthetic, Enid had to admit that the reuniting of the window with its former glory looked rather lovely. Such a shame that rolls of sticky-back plastic and an enthusiastic amateur decorator were determined to ruin it - but then again, needs must, and Enid needed to match the window colours to the light green, bright yellow, baby pink and sky blue of the spring outdoors.

Wednesday had pointed out that it was likely to snow before the deciduous trees regained their leaves - in fact, bet an evening of silence of it; if she won, Enid had to make no sound for a whole evening, and if she lost, she could not complain once. It was as if Enid had not seen her friend's sketches, of a lovely flower garden with its centrepiece a magnificent sunflower, surrounded with the wide green leaves of deciduous trees - when Enid had seen the flower (granted, smaller and quite alone then) it was only enveloped with the pine needles that had ruled the forest since October.

Thinking of Wednesday reminded Enid that her hair dye had faded. Perhaps she should re-do it tonight - did she have hair dye? Immediately Enid turned toward the bathroom, the door of which was - of course - closed, and inaccessible to a girl standing on the top step of a stepladder with her right hand slightly stuck to the window. Well, not slightly. The 'stick' part of the sticky-back plastic held fast to Enid's skin as she attempted once, twice, three times to wrench her hand away. Was it the fourth time that was the charm? Forgetting her precarious position, Enid pulled her whole bodyweight away from the window and the hand became unstuck - along with herself from the stepladder, and all of a sudden her feet were not supporting her weight and then her left palm, which she had stuck out behind her in a vain attempt to save herself, had hit the wooden floor.

Momentarily Enid lay in a daze as a stepladder and a roof and a one-quarter-coloured window rematerialised above her. The second sensation to return itself after sight was a sudden aching pain that struck her wrist, and after that the sudden impulse to stand up on her feet and reassure whoever was present that everything was okay - the soft toys remained impassively smiling, and each movement of her left arm reminded Enid that everything was not okay.

The infirmary should probably be the next stop, said the small logical part of Enid's brain. Logic is generally correct, said the part of her brain that admired Wednesday's rational thought process, and so within five minutes the infirmary had a new visitor.

"Hi, Miss. I don't think it's bad or anything, but I, like, fell and I put my hand out and..." Enid's voice trailed away, trained by life in a werewolf pack not to admit weakness or pain, and not wishing to be an inconvenience in the case that it really was fine.

"Very well. Come inside. Let's have a look."