CHAPTER ELEVEN
(act i)
FAMILY AND SECRET CRIMINAL HISTORIES
'You Reap What You Woe'
It was parent weekend, and Wednesday was frowning more than usual. I didn't understand her hatred for our mother but was undoubtedly excited.
Wednesday was digging into our father's criminal history and what happened when they were in Nevermore. He was an open book and a sweet soul. I could never think he would kill someone without a good reason.
Eugene was in the ICU in a coma from the monster attack; we hadn't gone to see him because Wednesday was blaming herself for it.
The quad was packed with families and parents, it was too bright for my liking, but I wanted to see if our bet for Pugsley came to fruition.
"Nevermore was created as a safe haven for our children to learn and to grow, no matter who or what they are. I realize most of you have heard about the unfortunate incident involving one of our students. But I'm happy to report that Eugene is on the mend and is expected to make a full recovery. So let's focus on the positive and make this Parents' Weekend our very best yet." Principal Weems gave her welcome speech glossing over the fact Eugene was not on the mend but in a coma.
"On the mend? Try in a coma." Wednesday monotonously said to Enid.
"Have you been to see him? You're his friend." Enid asked, looking at Wednesday.
"I'm the reason he's in the hospital," Wednesday said, looking at the blonde girl.
"That is not your fault, okay? The monster hasn't attacked anyone in the past week. Maybe you finally scared it off." Enid said, trying to cheer her up.
"She's right, Weds," I patted her shoulder.
Wednesday ignored us and said, "Or maybe it went into hiding to avoid this weekend."
"It won't be that bad," I told her, looking at our family.
Wednesday sneered at them, and Enid looked at her family and said, "Would you look at my family? Talk about toxic pack mentality." We turned to them, who were howling and roughhousing on a table. "I give my mom 30 seconds before her judge-y claws come out. Let's get this over with." She said, sighing and walking over to her family.
We parted ways and walked over to our family, "There they are," Father said with a smile, holding his arms out and hugging us both. "Oh, how we missed those accusing eyes and youthful sneer." He said sniffingly.
He let go, and Mother smiled at us and said, "How are you, my little rain cloud and my little raven?"
"I thought Thing was filling you in on my every move." Wednesday said, raising an eyebrow, and our parents looked at each other guilty, "I uncovered your feeble subterfuge almost immediately." She said.
"I expected better from you two," I said, looking over at Dorian, who was with his parents.
"So, how's the little fella doing? Does he still have all his fingers?" Father said, wiggling his fingers, concerned for his little friend.
"Relax. I haven't snapped any of his digits," Wednesday told him, making him let out a relaxed breath.
"Yet," I said, and he smiled and asked, "So tell us everything."
"Since you've abandoned us here, We've been hunted, haunted... and the target of attempted murder. "Wednesday explained with a small smirk, and our parents beamed, "Ah, Nevermore. I love you so." Father said, bringing a hand to his chest.
I turned to Pugsley and raised an eyebrow, and he answered, "You won" I smugly smiled at Wednesday, who rolled her eyebrows and handed me a 20 dollar note from her pocket, and I kissed it triumphally.
"Oh money, how I love you so," I said smugly, stealing father's line, and he nodded, pleased. I was a daddy's girl.
"Have you found any new playthings?" Mother asked me knowingly.
I huffed and replied, "Of course, I have two little worshippers. They're my boyfriends."
Mother clapped her hands excitedly, "I'm so proud. I don't expect anything else from my little raven. You must introduce us – I want to see who tamed my daughter!"
I scoffed, "Tamed? Please, I have them wrapped around my fingers," I told her smugly.
She smiled brightly at me, "I'll introduce you later." I told her.
I parted myself from my family as they talked to Wednesday and walked over to Dorian, and he brightened up, kissed my head, and introduced me to his parents. "Solomon, meet my parents, Howard and Victoria Grey. Mum, Dad, meet my girlfriend, Solomon Addams."
I shook their hands firmly, his mum kissed each cheek, and I said, "It's lovely to meet you two."
"Dorian, you never said she was this beautiful," Victoria told her son with a tsk.
I raised an eyebrow at Dorian, and he looked away with a whistle. "Thank you, Miss Grey," I told her; she waved me off and said, "Call me Victoria or, even better, Mother-in-law!"
Dorian choked, I patted his back, and he shot me a faux glare as I laughed. "We've only been together for a little while, mum," he told her, and she just laughed like he was stupid.
"Just wait; soon, it'll be an eternity," his father told him, sending me a knowing smile.
"Okay! I'll talk to you two later," he said, moving us away before they could embarrass him even more, and they laughed as he dragged me away.
"Your parents are nice," I told him with a chuckle as his hand lay on my hip.
"Ughh, they're so embarrassing," he complained, "I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable," he said, looking down at me with a soft smile.
"No, they are funny and probably right," I told him offhandedly. He stilled, his eyes brightened, and asked, "Really?!"
I shrugged and softly said, "You two have held my interest for longer than anyone else, and...somehow, my dead black heart beats for you, you both."
He yelled out a yes, picked me up, twirled me around as I chuckled, kissed me, and placed me on my feet. We kissed momentarily, basking in each other's presence, when a familiar voice interrupted, "Having all the fun without me?" Xavier teased.
We pulled apart and smiled at him, and Dorian pulled him close to us and kissed him, making him melt into the darker-haired boy's hold.
As he pulled away, Dorian teased, "How about now?"
Xavier was dazed, smiled, and flirted, "Maybe Sol needs to help me feel included."
I huffed, pulled him down by his tie, and let out a tiny surprised gasp but shut him up with a kiss, softly twirling my tongue in his mouth.
I let go as he blinked away the dazed, raised an eyebrow, and nodded. "Much better," he said.
"My mum wants to meet you both," I told them, slightly nervous. She had never met anyone of my toys, but these two were different.
They smiled down at my slightly smaller figure and said in sync, "We'd love to."
I smiled; everything was looking up.
_______
Then everything came crashing down when Weems decided we needed to do a family session with the counsellor. Weems and the Doc think it would be "most beneficial," yeah, no, one-on-one is terrible enough.
We sat in the doctor's bright room, Wednesday and me sitting next to each other in the middle of our parents. "So, who wants to start? Maybe we can discuss what it's like having Wednesday and Solomon away from home?" Doc said, trying to remove the awkward silence.
Nobody said anything till Pugsley said, "I mean, for me... it's hard not having them around. I never thought I'd miss being waterboarded so much."
Doc furrowed her eyebrows and moved on, "Morticia, Gomez. How have you been coping?"
"It's been torture for us too," mother finally said, and father nodded, "Fortunately, my brother Fester's rack fits two people."
"Nothing like a good stretch to bring out the best in each other." Mother said as father kissed her hand for a minute.
"Enough!" I yelled quickly, getting over the long show of affection.
Wednesday stood up, faced our parents, and said, "I think it's high time my parents faced the music. It seems they've been lying to us. Keeping secrets. Murderous secrets that need to be addressed."
Wednesday then pulled a picture from the file and asked, "Who was Garrett Gates, and why are you accused of murdering him?"
Pugsley gasped in awe, "Whoa."
Mother shook her head, "Those charges were dropped. Your father is an innocent man."
I huffed, "The local sheriff isn't so conceived. He's very adamant you did it, father," I told him as he stayed quiet.
"Wednesday, stop. This is neither the time nor the place." Mother said, standing up and glaring on Wednesday.
Then the Doc tried getting involved, "This is exactly the place. These sessions are..."
"Shut up, this does not concern you," I told her, watching the tennis match between my mother and twin sister.
"I refuse to debate a decades-old witch-hunt with you right now." Mother said sternly and started walking away from Wednesday.
"I... Darling, maybe we should..." father said quietly, but mother cut him off, "No. This session is over."
"Have it your way, Mother. If you refuse to tell me the truth, I'll excavate it myself." Wednesday stubbornly said, grabbed her bag, and walked out, and I followed behind.
We got outside, and mother walked after us, "What were you thinking? How could you ambush your father like that?" she asked in disbelief.
Wednesday stopped, turned to her, and replied, "How could I? You insisted we go to this school. Did you think I wouldn't find out your secret?"
Mother turned to me and shrugged, and she told Wednesday, "You don't know the full story. Your father did nothing wrong."
Wednesday scoffed and said, "I'll be the judge of that" she then stormed off.
"Sorry, mother, she's headstrong. You know how a mystery gets her going," I told her apologetically and rushed after Wednesday.
_______
After visiting Eugene in the hospital and meeting his moms, we went to the Crackstone's statue, and he looked scarier than originally. He looked like a melted candle – it was gross.
Then I saw a black figure, "Isn't that mother?" I asked Wednesday, she followed my eyes, and it was indeed her.
"What is she doing in a cemetery? Guilty conscience, perhaps?" Wednesday asked, and we followed her as she placed a rose stem on someone's coffin.
'Garret Gates,' it read.
"This screams guilty," I said sarcastically.
Wednesday nodded and said, "Let's get back to lunch and grill her for questions."
I nodded and followed after Wednesday back to the academy. Everyone was having lunch.
"Mmm. I am famished. You're not hungry, darling?" mother said, plating food on her plate like our father.
"My appetite eludes me, Mother. The same way the truth eludes you." Wednesday coldly said and walked over to Pugsley at the table.
I grabbed a glass of lemon water and a small plate of pesto pasta and followed her. We didn't grill mother yet, just eating and going along with the semblance of peace, but it felt like the calm before the storm.
And I was right; the sheriff and a few officers burst in and arrested my father, "Gomez Addams. You are under arrest for the murder of Garret Gates."
Wednesday and I looked at each with raised eyebrows, awfully convenient timing. Mother looked shocked as he dragged father out of the quad and let out a lone tear.
_______
We visited father in prison, and he looked awful in orange. It was not the new black.
"My little tormentas (storms), how's your mother?" He questioned. Of course, mother was the first Thing on his mind – as she should be.
"Devastated. She hates you in orange." I told him as Thing touched his hand through the glass.
"I caught her laying a rose on a grave earlier today. The headstone read "Garrett Gates." The very boy you've been arrested for murder. Care to explain?" Wednesday told him she came for the truth and she would get it.
He breathed deeply and told the story, "Garrett was infatuated with your mother. He mistook her kindness for interest. His infatuation turned into an obsession, and he started stalking her"
"Why didn't you call the police?" I interrupted, it would've solved the problem.
Father shook his head and explained, "We tried. But his family was the oldest and richest in Jericho. No one believed us. Garrett's father, an outcast-hating bigot, was furious that your mother had accused his only son. It all came to a head the night of the Rave'N Dance. Your mother and I stepped out to catch our breath. And that's when I saw him. He had broken into the school. His twisted love for your mother had made him insane. His eyes bore into me, brimming with murderous intent. My life flashed before my eyes. Driven by jealousy and hate, Garrett was unstoppable. When I saw the sword, my survival instinct kicked in. It was a terrible accident."
My eyes furrowed, and I took a look on Wednesday. His confession sounds entirely plausible, delivered with the perfect degree of sincerity. Perhaps my father is exactly what he says. But then there's the matter of his tells. The way he smooths his moustache—the way he delivers a comforting wink. Wednesday and I have been playing Russian roulette with him since we were 12. We knew them well.
"Thank you for being honest with us," I told him with narrowed eyes.
"I'm sorry I wasn't a better father." He said sadly and teared up.
"Could we please do without the overt display of emotion?" Wednesday told him, annoyed.
He nodded and said, "I know they make you uncomfortable."
"How many fathers hand their daughters a fencing blade when they're five?" Wednesday told him and defended himself, "Your sabre strokes were an essay in perfection!"
"Or teach us how to swim with sharks?" I told him, and he said proudly, "They found you two as cold-blooded as I do."
I nodded proudly, and Wednesday said, "The right way to flay a rattlesnake?"
"They really do taste like chicken when prepared properly." He said, waving his finger.
"The point is, you taught us how to be strong and independent women. How to navigate ourselves in a world full of treachery and prejudice." I told him softly.
"You are the reason we understand how imperative it is that we never lose sight of ourselves." Wednesday said, speaking for us, and I nodded in agreement.
"As far as fatherhood goes, I would say you've been more than adequate." She said with a small smile.
"Gracias, my babies." He said softly with a smile.
We nodded and got up and left, and as we stood outside the meeting room, I turned to her and said, "He's lying."
She nodded and asked, "He is, but why?"
"He's probably protecting someone, mother, maybe? It sounded primarily true, so there's probably a lie or two in there. He always did say telling lies is best when half of it is true," I told her, scratching my chin, thinking.
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