On the last day of the summer holidays, just the night before school starts, Morticia decided to go to the university library just to escape Ophelia and Christian flirting with each other. Elizabeth told her that the university library was huge that houses even the rarest section anyone could imagine.
Morticia did not have a hard time finding the library as they passed it frequently during the times Christian toured them in the university. Besides, the words West Parker University Library were visibly engraved on the large stone sign just beside the library. The building was relatively new, having been relocated from a smaller building just the year ago. It was circular and made of marble with vast glass windows all over its walls. Though Morticia did not appreciate the number of windows, she did not have much of a choice and entered the building.
The concierge was located at the center of the library, which did not have any walls separating each section. There were shelves upon shelves of all sorts of books, sprawled outward from the heart of the library to the walls and windows. Just looking at them was enough to drive Morticia crazy. Good thing, the old lady receptionist spoke up, waking her out of her reverie.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, please," Morticia replied, feeling a bit sheepish for looking like a fool and gazing around with her mouth open.
"You are new?" the receptionist kindly asked.
"Yes, is it too obvious?" she answered, making fun of her apparent innocence.
"Quite. You seemed impressed with the building, which gave you away," the receptionist replied, smiling. "I am Beverly Charles."
"Morticia Frump, Literature student,"
"Ah, then you might as well have your own library card," Beverly said, pulling out a registration sheet and a blank library card. "You would soon be residing in this library."
"Where do you suggest I start with?" Morticia replied, filling out the form and the card. Beverly noticed that she wrote elegantly, but was quite bothered when she used small pitchforks to replace the dots in her i's and j's.
"Miss Charles?" Morticia softly called, shaking Beverly up. "Is there something wrong?"
"Oh, no, no, no. Everything is fine," she replied distractedly, she obviously has not yet moved on with Morticia's peculiar writing style. "Usually, Literature professors start with folkloric narratives all over the world. So, I suggest that you give yourself a background about the different creatures in folklores." She pointed to the farthest shelf on her right. "You see that young lady in black? The shelf she just came from is that one that carries information about folkloric creatures. Come to think of it, she is usually there. If I remember correctly, she is also a Literature student."
Morticia smiled at her, handing her back the pen she used. "Thank you, Miss Charles."
"You're welcome, dear," Beverly replied, returning her smile, though quite wary this time. She put Morticia's registration form in a drawer labeled Fa – Fy and handed her the library card. "You will only leave this to me when you will bring a book or several books out of the library. As of now, you hold on to this."
"Thank you," Morticia repeated, walking towards the shelf Beverly pointed at earlier. Surrounding the receptionist's desk were two rows of wooden writing desks. On her way, she passed a young man clad in a navy blue pinstripe suit sitting in front of one of the writing desks, his back hunched. His hair was disheveled, as if the man ran his hand through it several times already. Morticia saw that there were a small pile of books in front of the man and a pad of lined yellow paper in which the man was furiously writing on. Shaking his head, the man crumpled the paper he was writing on and threw it on the waste basket beside his table, which to Morticia's surprise was already half-filled. She could not see his face but she could sense that this man was quite frustrated and Morticia decided not to bother him.
Reaching the shelf she was directed to, Morticia noticed that the young lady Beverly was pointing at earlier, came back and was sitting cross-legged by the wall, reading a very thick and very old book. Her face was hidden behind the book and all Morticia could see was her gloved hand. Deciding not to disturb her, she ran her fingers on the spines of the books on the shelf, scanning the titles in turn.
"World's Worst Monsters… Creatures of the Night… The Almanac of Folkloric Creatures… Unexplainable Beings: Myth or Reality… From Aswangs to Zombies: What People Most Fear," Morticia murmured with deep interest. She took out the last book as its title fascinated her the most. She blew the thin layer of dust covering the book to reveal the black leather cover with its faded gold lettering. It was quite heavy, given its thickness but Morticia did not seem to mind.
Seeing that the young lady was still occupying the wall at the end of the shelf, Morticia brought the book back to the area with writing desks, and settled right next to the young man she saw earlier. Before she opened the thick book, she looked sideways to the man and saw that his waste basket is now overflowing and his frustration did not seem to lessen even by a smaller percentage. In fact, to Morticia, it seemed that he was even more frustrated. Reminding herself that the man's frustration is none of her business, she opened the book and lost herself in it.
She looked in the appendix to locate the foreign word she saw in the title and found out that it was the first item discussed in the book. She turned to page nine and saw a hand-drawn image of an aswang. The picture showed a man transforming into a great, black dog and a woman turning into a big wild boar with long tusks. Turning to the next page, Morticia read the description:
Aswang (read as äs-wäng) is a folkloric creature found only in the Philippines, an archipelago located in the Southeast Asia. It was said that aswangs originated from the country's provinces, Aklan and Capiz, though due to the Filipinos' migration to other parts of the country, aswangs are rumored to be seen all around the Philippines.
Aswangs are not easily identifiable like other folkloric creatures as they look and act like humans during the day but transform during the night. Most aswangs assume the body of big, black dogs, but not easily confused as fox or wolf because they just look like domesticated dogs, only twice as big; or the body of a wild boar with tusks, also twice as large as normal wild boars. However, there are witnesses who claim that aswangs are just old women who hunt victims for their internal organs.
Aswangs change shape the moment the sun disappears from the sky and returns to their human form when dawn breaks. These creatures usually live in secluded areas to avoid being hunted by humans. It was said that aswangs survive by passing a certain birtud to their offspring. However, other historians claim that aswangs were born from their aswang parent/s.
There are quite a number of creatures that may be confused as aswangs, not only for foreign academicians, but also to the Filipinos as well. Among these creatures are the manananggals (see page 356), tiktiks (see page 531), vampires (see page 592), and witches (see page 615). Also, aswangs do not have any foreign counterpart as its description overlaps other folkloric creatures.
Aswangs are also among the most difficult creatures to place its history as there are so many claims of their origins. Among these is the despair of a woman named Maria after giving birth to a dead child, whom she and her husband were praying for a several years. Some, however, said that aswangs existed at the same time humans inhabited the earth.
"Wow," Morticia whispered after she finished reading. It did not occur to her that there were other folkloric creatures in other parts of the world. Of course she knew that vampires originated in Transylvania and that banshees are from Ireland, but she had never heard of aswangs until now. Thinking back, Morticia remembered that in her elementary history, Philippines was mentioned since it was helped by the American government during the second World War. But more than that, she knew nothing about the exotic country.
Morticia went back to the appendix and looked the Philippines up. She saw that there are other folkloric creatures in the country other than the aswangs, manananggals, tiktiks, vampires, and witches mentioned in the first creature she read. There were duwendes, engkantos, kapres, malignos, tikbalangs, undins, witawits, and many others. Fascinated, Morticia continued reading about what the Filipinos called, lamang lupa until Beverly had to tap her on the shoulder.
"Yes?" Morticia asked distractedly as she tried to pry her eyes away from the image of the siyokoy, a sea creature of the Philippines, though usually a man with greenish blue scales for skin, webbed hands and feet, and fin-like ears.
"It is already ten o'clock, Morticia," Beverly kindly said. She vaguely waved at the library. "It is an hour after the closing. I let you read because you seemed very engrossed with that book."
"Oh, it is indeed very interesting. And I am only reading about the creatures found in the Philippines," Morticia replied, smiling.
"Yes, the Philippines has fascinating legends," Beverly said, returning her smile. She seemed to have moved on from Morticia's peculiar handwriting earlier. "But like I've said, it is an hour beyond the closing of the library."
Morticia looked around, seeing that the library was indeed dimmer than it was earlier. There were only several lights on, in fact, only those near her were the ones open, as well as the one on the receptionist's table. She stood up quite suddenly. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Morticia," Beverly said. She pointed on From Aswangs to Zombies: What People Most Fear. "Would you like to borrow that book out?"
"May I?" Morticia asked excitedly.
"Of course," Beverly answered, smiling at Morticia's excitement. "Let me just have the book and your library card."
She handed her the book and her library card and followed her to the receptionist's desk. She patiently waited for her to finish copying the title of the book on the card and on her registration form, signed both, and returned the card to her. She put the book in a paper bag and handed it to her, as well. "You must return the book in three week's time."
"I might finish is even before that," Morticia replied. She jovially waved at Beverly as she left the library and went home.
*meanwhile*
Gomez had been sitting in the campus library of West Parker University for several hours but he could not get his mind to work properly. He had an assignment essay during the summer holidays which he did not bother doing because of his intent of finding Fester. And after the dismal encounter with the Amores, he did not have the heart of starting his work. And now that classes will start the next day, he was procrastinating to finish his supposedly ten-page essay.
Gomez did not pay attention to anyone who came and passed by him. He did not even greet Beverly when he came to the library. It actually surprised him that he ignored her, given that she has always been sweet to him and would often offer him academic help. But then again, he was too preoccupied by his overdue essay that he did not have the energy to stand up from his seat, go to Beverly's desk, greet her and apologize for being rude, and return to his table so that he could start his assignment.
As a matter of fact, what all Gomez wanted to do was to finish his damn essay so that he could retire to his solitary apartment and crash on his bed. He knew that sleeping would not be any better when he is awake since even in his dreams, what he did to Fester and the Amore twins haunt him. But then again, he knew that he had to finish his essay just for the sake of passing it the next day. It actually did not bother him that he might fail the assignment given that he only had several hours to finish a supposedly well-research essay. To be frank, Gomez did not care much about anything for so long - seven years to be exact, that he somehow grew numb of any emotions. It has been a long time since he was happy and excited. Even sadness could not penetrate him. Though he blamed himself for the Amore twins' condition and Fester's disappearance, hurt, anger to himself, and sadness had left him.
Having no choice, Gomez rose from his desk, went around the library, searching from shelf to shelf, collecting books he knew he would never bother reading and returned to his table. He took out a fresh pad of lined yellow paper and a pen, wrote on top of the paper his name in a sloppy, lazy manner: Gomez Alonzo Addams. Below that, he wrote the topic of his assignment for his Peace Education class: "How Should the Government Prevent Wars in the 21st Century?" Then he wrote below it the additional instruction given to them the previous term: "Provide law/s that will backup your suggestions. Explain."
Gomez truly wanted to write on his paper that personally, he would not bother stopping the war because he believed that wars help lessen the ever-growing population of the world. And to be honest, he could not see the purpose of having Peace Education in the first place. But then, of course, writing that on his paper would guarantee a zero. Though he would not have cared less about his grades, he could not just imagine his mother storming in his apartment, shouting at the top of her lungs, demanding him the reason of his failure. And so with a dejected sigh, Gomez took the book on top of the high pile titled, Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Even before he could start reading, he felt immediately disgusted with the title. Still. he tried reading. But then his thoughts would fly elsewhere, usually to the hollow part of his brain where he kept on blaming himself for Fester's disappearance.
Obviously, Gomez could not write anything 'appropriate' for submission tomorrow. His frustration grew as the sun slowly sank in the horizon. The waste paper bin beside him began to fill with crumpled papers bearing only his name, the title of the essay, the additional instructions, and a couple of words to start the essay. Well, that was until a young woman sat beside him.
Gomez was about to throw the twelfth book he tried reading when at the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a young woman flipping through a thick book. Her hair was as black as the feathers of a raven, and was neatly braided in two plaits that sat on both of her shoulders. She was wearing a purely black dress with long sleeves. Try as he might, Gomez could not see past the book she was reading for her head was barely an inch from it, clearly engrossed, though Gomez could clearly see her pale, slender hands with vivid red nails gripping the book.
Somehow, the sight of her flushed out all the frustration in Gomez. It was already seven in the evening, only two hours from the library's closing, but he felt a surge of hope. He felt that with the lady beside him, he could write his ten-page, well-researched essay. And so picking up the book he was about to throw earlier, he read through it, and writing to his paper simultaneously. He would steal glances to the girl next to him, wishing to see her face or dreading to see that she may have already left.
Finally, Gomez put the last period on his paper. He leafed through his work, surprised that in a small amount of time, he was able to write an eleven and half-page essay. He knew that he had outdone himself, knowing well that he wrote significant things and none of his last-minute made-up compositions. He took the watch from his breast pocket to look at the time.
"By jove!" he softly exclaimed. It was 8:50. He only wrote his assignment in less than two hours. Pocketing back his watch, he stole another look on the girl next to him. She was still engrossed with her reading, that she did not notice the time. Gomez was debating with himself if he would walk up to young woman and tell her that the library was about to close. But somehow, he chickened out every time he reached out a hand.
Instead, Gomez returned the books to their rightful place, surprising not only himself but also Beverly.
"What is with you, Gomez?" she whispered as he passed her desk on his way to a shelf.
"Huh?" he asked absently. He was walking with his head directed to the girl and not the direction he was walking to.
"What is with you?" Beverly repeated patiently, though her eyes were quite malicious. "You never return the books to the shelves. And you are walking with your head facing the other direction!"
"That... that girl," Gomez said, returning the last book. He went back to the desk he was previously occupying, took his things and returned to Beverly.
Beverly merely raised an amused eyebrow.
"I do not know, Beverly. But she... she mystifies me so much!" he said in a soft voice.
"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.
"I do not know," he repeated. "Earlier I was just so frustrated... and then she came... and then I felt as if I can do anything."
Beverly raised her eyebrow again. "Good thing she is here then. Because you are at least recognizing my mere existence."
"Oh, Beverly, I am sorry," Gomez said, sounding quite sorry though there was still the sound of amazement in his voice. "I was preoccupied with my ten-page Peace Education assignment to be submitted tomorrow."
Beverly made indications that she was about to interrupt and scold him for neglecting his studies.
"Don't worry, Beverly, I had it covered," he proudly showed her his 11-page composition. Then he added in a rather dreamy voice, "Because she is here."
"You like her?" Beverly asked.
"Perhaps?" Gomez replied uncertainly. "I just saw her now. I cannot say that I have met her, nor can I claim that I have seen her face because I have not. But then her presence is... arousing. Like waking from a rather dreadful nightmare. And believe me when I say that I am living in a real-life nightmare."
Of course, Beverly knew nothing about Fester's disappearance. All she knew was that Gomez is very upset for something and no matter how she coaxed him to tell him what happened, he would not let out a single word. She also knew that Gomez had been showing the 'happy' side of him, though she knew that it was only a front so no one would ask him what was wrong. Upon seeing a twinkle in his eyes for the first time, she knew that something about Morticia Frump brought the life out that no one has seen from Gomez.
"Morticia Frump," Beverly whispered, savoring the minimal happiness she saw in Gomez's eyes. It was the first time she saw him project an emotion and she could not stop herself from telling him more information that would make him happier.
"What?" Gomez asked distractedly, eyeing the young woman with a strange emotion, even to him.
"Her name is Morticia Frump," Beverly repeated. And just as she thought, the twinkle in Gomez's eyes brightened up. "She is a freshman Literature student."
"Beautiful name..." Gomez breathed.
Beverly raised again an eyebrow. Morticia was not a name she would qualify as beautiful. But then she remembered the pitchforks in Morticia's writing and realized that perhaps, the name suited her. Thinking harder, Beverly realized that Gomez was also not a normal young man.
"Freshman, you say?" Gomez asked, absentmindedly pulling out a cigar from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
"Yes," Beverly replied, eyeing the cigar with great distaste. "How many times do I have to tell you, Gomez, that smoking is not allowed inside the library premises?"
"Oh, yes. Sorry," Gomez replied distractedly. He pulled his eyes away from the lady named Morticia to face Beverly. "Where does she live?"
"I'd rather not tell you," Beverly replied shortly. Obviously, though she considered Gomez as a grandson and would give anything to see him happy, especially now that she saw how much difference in his appearance happiness has made, the attempted smoking of Gomez quite insulted her. After all, she was still the head librarian.
"Aw, come along now, Beverly," Gomez pressed on.
"No. I believe that giving her residence is far too much, after all I already gave you her name and what she will be studying," she replied.
"I would rather not say this, but this is a special circumstance," he said. He swallowed hard as if what he was about to say was something he would dread. And it was, well, for him anyway. "Please?"
Beverly blinked at him. "You would rather not say please?" she asked incredulously.
"I was not raised to say that word," Gomez murmured heavily. "Beverly..."
"I told you, no. Besides, I have to close down already," she said.
Having an idea, Gomez strolled to where Morticia was sitting. But before he could reach her, Beverly took hold of his shoulder.
"She is too captivated with what she is reading, I will talk to her later."
"But -" Gomez started, to which Beverly interrupted, rather harshly.
"Go home," she said.
"But I want to meet her," he insisted.
"Ah. Well, knowing you, you could find some other ways of meeting her. Sadly, I have to close down."
"Beverly, you are unfair,"
"And you are whining like an errant teenager,"
Gomez scowled.
"Fine."
He turned on his heel and left the building. He was feeling rather cross at Beverly for making him go, but then he remembered Morticia. And somehow, despite himself, he managed to smile as he jovially walk towards his apartment, with a bounce on his every step.
End of Chapter 4. While writing the remaining of this chapter, I decided to change the title because well, I think it will be too long to discuss Phoebe and the Phantom, especially after I started talking about Morticia seeing Gomez in the library and vice versa. Sorry though that Chapter 4 is a bit short, don't worry, I promise that Chapter 5 will be a bit lengthy but juicy :D The next chapter would be the one about Phoebe and the Phantom.
Thank you so much for your comments, I super appreciate it. Please continue suggesting and commenting! :D