Just a little fluff of a chapter! Enjoy!
Part Nine: Memories
Fester had been thinking about Gomez ever since Dementia had revealed her plan to recover Teeter's memory. He was missing his extended family so much that the ache of homesickness was almost unbearable. He endured just a tiny bit longer, to savor the feeling, before giving in and driving over for a visit.
He kissed his wife goodbye and wished her good luck before embarking on the 15-minute drive over to the Addams' mansion.
Meanwhile, inside the mansion, Fester's forthcoming visit was being foretold by Mama as she watched her Lizard Tongue Soup bubble in the caldron over the fire. She watched as the bits of tongue and the noodles swirled around in the boiling broth and slowed to form a picture of Fester standing on the porch in front of the mansion. Unperturbed, Mama muttered, mostly to herself but within earshot of Gomez, "Ah, Fester is coming."
Gomez looked up from his newspaper to gaze confusedly over at Mama. "What was that you said, Mama?" he asked.
"Hmm?" she answered, distracted by her soup. "Oh, yes," she continued, "Fester is coming. Well, actually –"
A knock at the front door interrupted her thought. Gomez jumped up in excitement and raced out of the kitchen to answer it.
Alone now, Mama finished her thought, "he's already here."
In the living room, Morticia nearly jumped when her knitting was interrupted by Gomez's dart to the front door. Of course, it would take much more to make Morticia actually jump, but she was startled nonetheless. She took care to hide that fact and chided Gomez in her most serene voice.
"Is there a fire, dear?" she called to him, halting his race.
"Ah, Querida, if only!" Gomez called back, laughing. "In fact, my dear, it is not something that I am running from, but something I am running to. Mama has informed me that Fester is at the door!"
Morticia's eyes lit up, "Fester? Truly? Then, by all means, darling, let him in."
"At your command," Gomez replied, taking a deep bow before gazing meaningfully into Morticia's eyes. She couldn't decide whether to chuckle or melt or vault from her chair and wrap Gomez in her arms, so she simply raised an eyebrow and stifled a smile.
He seemed to require no more and left the room to invite Fester in. When the two men returned, they were laughing heartily at a joke Morticia had not heard.
Annoyance at being left out started to flare up in her, but before she let it show, she called, "What is so funny, boys?" in her most nonchalant voice.
Gomez was not fooled and hastened to let her in on the joke.
"Darling, forgive us, Fester here was just telling me about the trouble he and Dementia are having with the sister of their housekeeper – you remember Totter dear?" he paused as she nodded. He continued, "Well, she's having an issue with amnesia - the sister, not the housekeeper," he clarified, "and –"
Before he could continue, Fester cut in, "What Gomez is trying to say is, Morticia, could I borrow one of your juggling clubs? I can't seem to find my set at home anywhere."
Morticia was momentarily confused, but then had to stifle a laugh as she remembered Gomez's bought of amnesia and the many, many blows to the head with a juggling club that had left him with a charming set of bumps before ultimately curing him. It had been rather distressing at the time, but now she could look back on the experience with some degree of detachment and admit to herself it was rather funny.
Before she set off to fetch the club she asked, "Fester, are you sure this is such a good idea? It's hardly likely that this girl's head is as hard as Gomez's. A juggling club might be too much for her."
Fester pondered Morticia's observation before answering, "You know, you're right, Morticia – Teeter is much smaller than Gomez. You don't happen to still have that truncheon that Great-Great Uncle Lester Frump stole from that police officer on his vacation in England, do you?"
"You mean the one with the officer's blood all over it?" Morticia inquired.
"Yea! That's the one!" Fester exclaimed. "That's the perfect size for Teeter, not to mention it's much prettier."
Morticia smiled and headed down to the playroom to fetch Fester's toy.
Meanwhile, back across town, Dementia and Totter were preparing to spring their own trap. Totter had convinced Teeter that what she really needed was a little outing in town. Teeter had squealed with delight and talked about "taking in some sun" (to which both Dementia and Totter shuddered) and "perhaps getting a nice facial" (to which they both gagged). Faking smiles, they waved the girl out, put her in her cab, and began to plan in her absence.
Dementia spoke first, "OK, so now's she gone, and she should be back in an hour or two. That leaves us plenty of time to gather materials. Hopefully Fester will be back with that club of Morticia and Gomez's soon. Then, when Teeter comes back through the door, we'll be waiting here and 'Bang!' one wallop on the head should have her good as new!" Dementia smiled eagerly at Totter, but she looked concerned.
"Miss Dementia," she began timidly, "Not to doubt you or anything, but are you sure this will bring Teeter back to normal?"
Dementia was supremely confident, "Of course dear! Fester assured me that it worked perfectly when Gomez lost his memory! Now, don't you worry, it'll be just fine!"
Somewhat cheered, Totter nodded vigorously.
Dementia checked her watch and then groaned, "Oh Fester! Where is he? He should be back by now. If he doesn't hurry, Teeter will beat him home!"
They gave Fester a few more minutes, but then anxiety of missing their chance to cure Teeter became overwhelming and they began combing the house for replacement clubs, something to use just in case Fester didn't get back in time.
And so it passed that just as they put their hands on a fire-poker and a table leg, respectively, they heard the sound of car tires crunching up the driveway. With one panicked look at each other, the two women raced back to the front door and took their places on either side, clubs raised. The knob began to turn and Dementia met Totter's eyes, coordinating their strike.
She mouthed, "One, two, Three!" and the two women brought down their weapons on the round, white, bald head of Fester.
"Oh no!" Dementia shrieked, grasping Fester and dropping her now bent fire-poker on the floor. "Are you OK, dear?" she gasped.
Fester turned, looking confused, and said, "Well, yes of course dear, why wouldn't I be?"
Dementia burst out laughing and then showed Fester the bent fire-poker and the splintered remains of Totter's table leg. Fester smirked and then rubbed his head, "I thought I felt something as I walked in."
A few hours later, Totter stood in the doorway to her sister's room, watching Teeter lay in her bed, clutching Ratter to her chest. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Dementia laid a hand on the girl's shoulder, "What's wrong, Totter?"
Totter turned her big watery eyes on Dementia, "Well, I'm so happy that my sister is cured, but now I'm sad because she'll be wanting to go home, and I'll miss her terribly."
Dementia thought for a moment before answering. "Well, Totter," she said slowly, "It's always hard to leave the ones we love, but we always have the memories," then she added, "then again, if that doesn't work, there's always the juggling club!"
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