Morticia rested on her back beside the creek near the cottage. The tall grass hid her from view and would tickle her nose with each gentle gust of wind. Eyes closed, she inhaled the musky smell of decaying fall leaves and let the air fill her lungs, then breathed as she let her arms settle above her head. The gently flowing creek was among several locations on the mountain she would escape to when anxiety riddled her nerves. She opened her eyes at a drop of water landing on her forehead. Between the treetops was the view of ominous gray clouds, joining together to hide any last trace of blue, and Morticia smiled as rain began to fall. She climbed to her feet and combed out any grass and twigs in her hair with her hands. She made her way to the very edge of the creek while thorns and thistle flowers tugged at her long skirt. Watching the gerridae insects glide across the glassy surface, she raised her skirt and stepped into the shallow water to feel the mud squish beneath her bare feet. Divine.
An explosion of thunder startled her serenity and she looked up to see an enormous bolt of lightning strike directly into the chimney of the cottage. It was followed by a distant and shrill, "CHAAA HOOOOOO!" Her uncle had dropped in for his visit. Morticia sprinted towards home.
She threw open the kitchen door and immediately inhaled a sea of black smoke that sent her into a coughing fit. Hester Frump was also struggling to breathe, gripping the stove for support. With the wave of Hester's arm, the smoke wrapped itself into a sphere and was sent up the chimney, allowing visibility in the room once again.
"Must you... Must you travel by lightning?" Hester scolded her brother as she patted black soot off her shoulders and apron. "And if you must, must you do it directly into the house?"
"Well, you don't expect me to just knock on the door like some stranger, do ya?" The stout man wore a jolly smile. He dawned a bron shoulder black cloak with a large velveteen pouch hanging from his shoulder.
"Happy Hallows' Eve, uncle!" Morticia threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, tightly. He cackled with delight and patted her back.
"Geez, Hester, don't you feed this girl?"
"You know my Morticia. Too distracted to finish a meal, then she wonders why she grows weary in the sunlight. She also tracked in mud, again."
"Mother..."
"Speaking of sunlight, where's the little fae?" Fester tapped black soot off Morticia's nose and began peaking in cabinets and drawers.
"Somewhere sulking, more than likely." Hester sounded annoyed as she placed a large, plump pumpkin on the table.
"Ophelia's been punished," Morticia whispered.
Fester slammed the cabinet shut and whipped his head around in disbelief, "On Halloween? Hester, really?"
"Now, now - I lifted the punishment this morning. I realized it was a little cross and I compromised, turning her essay into a discussion, instead. She finished and she's free to join in the festivities if she wishes, but she still continues to mope and droop all over the place. Damn daisies wilting everywhere, I don't know what else to do!" With the wave of her hands the pumpkin carved itself a jagged smile and two slanted, menacing eyes.
"I'll talk to her," Morticia reached into a drawer for a candle. "Ophelia's a special case."
"That's an understatement," Hester mumbled.
As Morticia placed the candle in the jack-o'-lantern, Ophelia came rushing through the kitchen door.
"Uncle Fester!" she screamed and jumped into her Uncle's arms as he laughed and spun her in circles.
"Will you cave goblins calm down before you destroy the place? I swear, Halloween gets you all in a tizzy."
"And why shouldn't it?" Morticia took her mother's hands and glided with her in a waltz of sorts, all together bringing ease to Hester's distress and melting her heart. "This glorious weather for our communion with the dead? Why, we should be no less than batty."
The older woman smiled and pressed her forehead to her daughter's.
"Batty is the word, indeed, sister. Ah, yes," Ophelia spoke in a mocking tone and flounced across the kitchen, "Welcome, welcome all to our annual communion with the dead. We'll eat some dinner, light a few candles and read a verse from an old dusty book. Then off to bed with ye! You must rest up for your dreary restoration of reality."
Hester frowned and let go of Morticia, stomping back to the stove. Fester, detecting the energy in the room, clapped his hands. "You forgot the part where we bob for apples. And drink!" He reached into his sleeve and swiftly pulled out a long, pointy blue velvet hat that glittered with crescent moons and stars. He pulled it onto his head and stretched his fingers before rubbing his hands together, fiercely. Sparks flew from his finger tips and his hands began to radiate a white glow. Morticia beamed and clasped Ophelia's hands, an attempt to share the anticipation. At last, with a firm clap from Fester's hands, blinding white light filled the room in a swift flicker.
The room was suddenly filled with flittering bats and candles burning on every surface. Colorful leaves scattered everywhere alongside carved jack-o'-lanterns. The air was thick with the smell of burning incense. A large feast was steaming on the table, and the two daughters stared at each other in awe, noticing the sharp black hats that fit themselves on the top of their heads. A witches' most notable accessory. The small family broke out into cheer and laughter at the festive display their uncle had conjured.
"Oh, Happy Hallows' Eve!" Morticia beamed as she began to swat her hands playfully at one of the bats flying above their heads.
"Happy Hallows' Eve, indeed. I must admit, you've outdone yourself, dear brother."
"Or has he?" Ophelia narrowed her eyes at her uncle as she approached him, stealthily. "My mind doth wonder, hath thou brought a gift this holiday season?" She gently touched her uncle's arm, her lips drooping into a pout to pair with pleading eyes.
"Of course she wants more." Hester rolled her eyes.
"That's the key, Ophelia, never satisfied! Do you think if I allowed myself to be satisfied I would have been able to attain my excellent physique?" Fester patted his protruding gut as the girls snickered. "Of course. What kind of uncle would I be if I didn't gift my nieces their first witches' ball on this Hallows' Eve?"
Ophelia gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling. "I'm going to my first witches' ball?"
"No, of course not... we don't know anyone, you nut. I meant this witches' ball!" He reached into his velvet pouch and pulled out a glittering, clear sphere. The girls gazed in astonishment as Hester's forehead wrinkled with anxiety.
"Uncle, you didn't... a crystal?" Morticia moved closer and looked at her reflection in the glassy surface. "I've read so much, I..."
"Let's use it, let's use it!" Ophelia jumped in place as Fester began clearing a spot on the dining table.
"Shouldn't we at least eat first?" Hester asked, uneasily, but seemed to go unheard.
"Dim the lights, Morticia." As she did so, Fester gently placed the crystal on the table where it didn't roll, or even wobble. The three huddled in front of it while Hester wearily watched from behind. Burning candles served as the only light in the room.
"Turn on. On." Ophelia poked at the ball and Morticia swatted her hand away.
"Not like that, you simply just ask it..." before Fester could finish, Ophelia bent down and pressed her hands on either side of the sphere.
"I want to see what Halloween is like off the mountain!"
A dark green smoke immediately filled the ball, swirling and picking up speed. Ophelia quickly removed her hands and the others bent down beside her to get a closer look. Once the smoke had finally cleared, there was visual of a rural neighborhood. Leaves scattered the streets and plastic skeletons and ghouls decorated people's houses. Pumpkins sat on their porch steps, and children in masks and pointy black hats rang doorbells, while some chased each other in circles.
"Hmmm. Seems rather dull." Ophelia tilted her head. Morticia moved closer.
"I think it's lovely..." She lifted her gentle hand and touched the sphere as though it drew her to itself. The visual dissolved into another cloud of smoke, a crimson red color this time. Morticia retreated her hand. Once the smoke had cleared it was the visual of a large, Victorian mansion. A tower with gargoyles galore reflected in her wide eyes. Lights flashed from every window of the home and the driveway was lined with cars. The place was ridden with people, from the driveway, to every balcony and even on the roof.
"Now that's interesting..." Ophelia beamed and leaned closer. "What is that, Uncle Fester?"
"Oh, that. That's just the Addams's annual Halloween party."
"Addams?" Morticia looked at Fester.
"Practically the royals of Swamp Town. Ancestors settled here before the town was even built, er... something or other."
"Have you ever been invited?" Ophelia looked at Fester, also. He scoffed.
"No one needs an invitation to the Addams Halloween party."
"Superb... how Jay Gatsby of them." Ophelia smiled wide and looked back at the crystal. She bent to rest her elbows on the table and put her chin in her hands. She gazed longingly and sighed, "How I wish to go to this joyous event where no one is invited..."
"Alright. That's enough. You saw." Hester was wringing her hands. She took a hand cloth and marched over to the table and threw it over the ball. She picked it up and brought it to a cabinet. "Thank you, Fester, for your thoughtful gift. You just had to get them all riled up." She tucked the ball away in the cabinet and closed the doors. She turned around and stared at her frowning daughters. "...Well? Food's getting cold."
...
Later that evening, the small family gathered around a bonfire outside the cottage. The Taurus moon shown down on the quiet mountain. Ophelia sat on a log and plucked a melody on her golden lyre, a glazed look in her eyes as she stared at the dancing flames. Her thoughts couldn't be further from the present. Morticia danced in gliding movements around the fire, tambourine in hand. She softly sang,
"I can hear the Hunter's hounds
Far away, far away,
I will cast the Circle round,
Oh leave my soul.
Raven-witch I feel your breath,
Far away, far away,
Bringing with you Summer's death,
Oh leave my soul
Sunrise, the tolling bell,
Far away, far away,
Breaks the Raven-witches spell,
Oh blessed are we.
The leaves of the Oaken King,
Fade away, fade away,
Feed the seeds that will come in Spring
Oh blessed are we"
Ophelia plucked the last few strings as Morticia shook the tambourine with vigor. Both bowed. Fester and Hester beamed and applauded.
"Bravo, bravo girls! What a lovely celebration. Morticia, you have a voice like that of a vulture's mating call."
"She gets that from me." Fester nudged his sister.
"And Ophelia, that was enchanting." Hester looked over at the sulky girl. Ophelia offered a pathetic smile and leaned the lyre on the log. She stood and sighed as she walked towards the creek. Hester felt defeated. Morticia handed the tambourine to her uncle.
"Excuse me." She grinned and trailed after her sister. Once at the creek, she found Ophelia holding onto a low hanging branch like a primate, the ends of her white dress barely grazing the water.
"She marking them begins a wailing note, and sings an extemporally woeful ditty..." Ophelia recited as she climbed. Morticia folded her arms and watched with amusement. "How love makes young men thrall and old men dote. How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty. Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, and still the choir of echoes answer so."
Morticia raised a brow, "Was the song that bad?"
"It's Venus and Adonis. Shakespeare's poem of metamorphoses. And Venus's first mortal lover."
"Mm. Well if you keep hanging from that flimsy branch, it's going to be Hamlet."
Ophelia tilted her head to look at her sister, who was standing upside-down from her point of view. "It's time for our metamorphoses, sister." Unwrapping her legs from the branch, she let go and landed on her feet in the water, soaking Morticia.
"Must you..."
"Come with me! Off the mountain, tonight!" Her eyes gleamed, wildly.
"You're still planning on doing that?"
"Tonight, after everyone's asleep! It would be so simple Morticia, and we would be back before dawn, you know we will! I'm drowning up here!" Rushing toward Morticia, she grabbed her hands and pulled her into the creek with her. "I want my own metamorphoses, not Ovid's!" She pulled Morticia into a dance, the water splashing at their knees. "I want to be Venus finding her mortal love!... Without the death by wild boar. Or perhaps..." she tapped Morticia's nose, "you will find your mortal love..."
Morticia laughed. "What makes you think I want a mortal? And is that what this is all about? Finding love?"
"You're missing the point, sister! Hear me! It's not just about finding love, but about finding! To even have that chance and opportunity!"
"Shhh, they'll hear you!"
"The chance to do anything! Anything besides what we've always done! What will become of us up here?" She placed her hands on Morticia's cheeks. "What will we ever experience?"
Morticia looked into her sister's pleading eyes. She was hearing her, loud and clear. And she couldn't deny that she made perfect sense. She wouldn't be being honest with herself if she didn't admit that the mainland calls to her everyday, and lives in her mind like a parasite. Would their mother ever let them roam on their own if they asked her permission? "You know mother is just trying to protect us..."
"We're grown women, Morticia. And times are changing. Fester knows it, too! We'll be together..." a wicked grin replaced her open mouth. "Let's go to that party."
"You're mad."
"Not my fault. And I saw the look in your eyes when you saw what was in at that crystal... why did it happen when you touched it? Isn't that curious?" Ophelia eyed her sister, deviously. Morticia let go of her hands and backed away. "Tik-tok, little raven. I'll be gone, either way." Ophelia brushed past her sister and began making her way back to the fire. Morticia joined her side in a matter of seconds.
"We're back before dawn."
Ophelia took her sister's hand as they walked. She was grinning from ear-to-ear.
