Wednesday
Caught In A Web
Heart attacks... Complex things by nature. And as such, they were of particular fascination to those with equally complex minds. Those with minds of both surgical knowledge and precision, specifically. They were a serious thing. Potentially life-ending. Depending on the specific case, those odds could be bumped up considerably. And for those with logical, surgically precise minds, they were so fascinating to watch. The greying of the skin, the paleness of the lips and sometimes the fingertips, the way that- if they could stay conscious- their eyes frantically darted around looking for help. If they could be hooked up to a heart monitor before it hit, then that rhythmic beeping was like a song that the organ itself was forced to dance to. It would quicken as the stubborn muscle tried to compensate for its own misstep. Countering its own rhythm in a doomed attempt to reorient itself, it would trigger a cascade failure that would cause everything to slam to a halt. That sudden bridge and drop as the droning melody of the flatline hit... There was nothing else quite like it.
For Wednesday Addams, the only disappointing part of it all was the need to set down her popcorn so that she could pick up her scalpel, knowing it was time to get to work. But that was always okay. The popcorn was never going anywhere. And not even the nurses desperately pounding on the locked and/or barricaded door as they used the crash cart as a battering ram to try and get in while they watched with horror as the scene played out in front of them could distract her. For her, there was always more fun to be had. Not least because she knew she had an audience. The psychiatric ward would invariably be getting a few new admissions come Monday.
She had done this plenty of times, of course. And she'd never been apprehended once. But that wasn't what she cared about. The thing on her mind was how much it had paid dividends. She had managed to gain an intimate understanding of how the heart worked. Along with many other bodily functions of the human anatomy. She would know a heart attack if she saw one. And that was how- despite her room mate's words to the contrary- she could say with certainty that what the young werewolf was experiencing as she entered the room definitely was not it.
She'd been sitting out on the balcony with her cello propped up as she let the bow gently rasp across the strings, the gliding motion filling the air with melodic notes as always. The severed hand sitting atop the music stand turning her pages was the first to notice something was amiss. Wednesday had just reached the bottom of the page and looked up at him expectantly only to be met with his index finger pointing behind her. She spun on her stool to see that Enid had come in, one hand on her chest and pale. She was shaking profusely and clearly sweating. Knowing this was an issue that needed to be discussed, Wednesday made the decision to cut short her practice and rose, walking through the spider web window and taking her position just on her side of the line of duct tape running the length of the room.
"Enid... Your pulse and rate of respiration are through the roof." The gothic witch looked the young werewolf over from her respectable distance. "Do I need to fire up the popcorn maker?"
"Popcorn doesn't help a heart attack, you psychotic bitch!" Enid snapped, her tone carrying a venom that Wednesday found admirable.
"On the contrary..." she shrugged, completely unfazed. "I find it greatly helps any entertaining event. Also you are not having a heart attack. I've witnessed enough of them on the cardiac wards enough to know the difference. The best bit was starting the autopsy. If the ward was heavily populated, one of the others sometimes freaked out enough that it set them off too. One time I got a hat trick of seven. I bet I could never do that again if I tried." Somehow, this minor anecdote did very little towards helping Enid's condition.
"Screw you!" she snapped. "I'm literally freaking out over here! I do not need to hear that!"
"You are often freaking out, Enid." Wednesday reminded her calmly as she heard Thing enter the room. "Would you care to share with your other cell mates as to what it might be about this time around? Has someone else sent you a death threat? Have they finally confirmed that First Kill isn't getting a Season Two? Did BTS break up? What is it?" At that, Enid glared up at her under her fringe, her eyes full of tears.
"Don't even joke about BTS!" she snapped. "And what did you mean about someone else sending me a death threat? No one's sent me one to begin with!" Ah. Clearly she hadn't found it yet. Maybe it had been hidden just a little bit too well...
"No comment." Wednesday said with practised neutrality as she reconsidered her time and place to re-hide the manilla envelope. "Now what's going on?" At that, Enid let out a sigh as her head flopped forward. Wednesday saw the motion shake loose several tears which hit the rug with a muted pattering. In that moment, Wednesday felt herself pause. Was this that serious? Had there been a bereavement?
"If you must know, the butcher in town is closing down." Wednesday opened her mouth to reply just as Enid's words processed in her mind. The result was a jumbled mess as several thoughts crashed into one another. In the end, the only thing that escaped her mouth was also the only coherent thought within her mind:
"What?"
"I know, right?" Enid continued. "Like... I've been at this place since I was eleven and he's just such a nice guy! I just-"
"Why are you upset?" Wednesday asked bluntly. This time when Enid looked up it was with a look of disbelief.
"Seriously?" she asked. "How can I not be?"
"Well, it's not like Nevermore will run out of meat." Wednesday shrugged. "If they got it from him, he would have no need to close down. He'd be set for life. There's no danger of you going hungry. So what's the problem?"
"The problem- Wednesday- is that I've known him for years!" Enid said bitterly. "Remember when you were trying to contact someone and I offered you one of my candles? When I said that the aroma of steak tartare was to die for? Well I was on about his steak tartare! He makes it exclusively for me because he knows I love it!"
"If he has the spare meat to be doing that, then why is he not selling more?" Wednesday asked. "This is a small town. I would have thought many people would love a local butcher with the personal touch. I personally need no such sentiment, but you certainly do. I can hog tie and neuter an animal in under thirty seconds and kill one of a thousand places."
"He sells fine." Enid wiped her eyes and flopped back on her bed furiously. "It's the bank that's the problem. For the past few weeks he's had an overdraft of five-thousand dollars. Jericho is a small town and that's a lot to owe. And it's not getting any less. What I said is true: he sells fine. But in a town like this, 'fine' is just not good enough. He's going under because of it."
"But that makes no sense." Wednesday made no effort to hide her confusion. "I remember my father's business meetings. Discussing the old business... Or the new business every time a new quarter came around. How the hell does someone just end up with that sort of discrepancy and get stuck with it for weeks on end without any power to do something about it?" It was true. The fact that this man was now going under meant he'd had no way to get out of his situation. But how did a debt that size just land in one's lap. It certainly wasn't medical care. If it was, he'd have been let off lightly at only five-thousand. But what could have happened? Her mind was racing now and there was no way to re-cork that bottle once the seal was broken. And plus, if she didn't at least try to do something, Enid would never let her hear the end of it.
"Wednesday?" The young witch looked down to see Enid gazing up at her with an expression of desperation on her face. "What are you going to do?" But Wednesday had already made her mind up quite firmly as to her next move.
"Take me into town, Enid. I think I need to have a word with this butcher."
The bus pulled into town after a drive that felt nothing short of excruciating. Enid's nervous energy had seen her right foot bouncing the entire time and it had shaken the whole floor of the bus to the point that the driver had nearly crashed twice. Her happiness at enlisting Wednesday's help was nauseating. That settled it! Wednesday was going to string that death threat from the ceiling right above Enid's bed where she couldn't miss it! She would see to it that the other girl was sleeping with one eye open for weeks on end. And when she was finally too exhausted to take it and lapsed into a full, deep sleep, Wednesday would act. Her justice and sweet retribution would be slow and painful. Yet ruthlessly efficient.
They stepped off the bus and Enid wasted no time in taking the lead, making a beeline for the butcher's shop. She was only walking but her speed was astounding. Even Wednesday herself had trouble keeping up. And when they did finally arrive at Full Chop Butcher's, Enid was still just a twitchy bundle of nervous energy.
"When we get in there, let me do the talking." Wednesday cautioned her. In response, Enid only gave an energetic nod. "The name of the butcher is...?"
"Ted." Enid replied. "Ted Simpson."
"Got it." Wednesday nodded in thanks as she stepped forward and pushed the door open. The bell dinged as she entered with Enid close behind. The immediate thing she noticed was how barren the shop was. Everything was covered over and the display counter was empty. It didn't look like the place had been open today at all. Even for her, it was a somewhat depressing sight to see. The place looked traditional. It had character to it. Quite clearly, it had been a part of Jericho for quite a number of years. Since Enid had been a student at Nevermore for a young age, Wednesday was beginning to get a picture of why someone of Enid's sentimentality would be sad to see something like this go.
In that moment, a head popped up from behind the counter. It was an old bald man with a scraggly grey beard and wide frame. He wore an old-style straw shopkeeper's hat with a green and white ribbon wound round just above the rim. His bloodstained red and white striped apron totally gave the game away as to who it was.
"Mr Simpson, I presume." Wednesday said as she made her way inside properly.
"Depends who's asking." The old man looked her up and down, taking the measure of her.
"It's okay, Ted." Enid said, walking over to the counter and drawing his attention over. "She's my room mate."
"Ah, I see." The man took his hat off and rubbed his head in an apparent attempt to apply more chrome to the top of it by way of looking more presentable. "I am Ted Simpson, yes... Although I don't have much left of anything. If you're here to take one last look at the old place, I recommend bringing a camera."
"It may not come to that." Wednesday told him. That made him do a double-take and his questioning look said it all. Fortunately, she elaborated of her own free will. "Enid told me of your situation. I have to say, I'm curious as to how someone just gets that kind of debt out of seemingly nowhere. May I ask what happened?"
"Enid wasn't supposed to talk about that!" His tone, the emphasis he put into saying her name and the look he turned on her were enough to make the young werewolf turn her gaze to the floor. Luckily for Enid, Wednesday was right there to change the subject.
"Mr Simpson, my father has been in the business field for a number of years." She was careful to keep her voice neutral and not convey her annoyance that someone else might now be out to kill Enid. That was her pleasure to be saved for just the right moment. "I learned a thing or two hearing him talk to his lawyer on a number of occasions. If you so desire, I'd be willing to try and help take a look for you. See if I can't find some solution." At that, the forlorn butcher pinched the bridge of his nose and took a heavy breath. Clearly he was willing self control and Wednesday couldn't understand why. She was offering her help. Why would that frustrate him?
"If you're so knowledgeable about business, you must know the first rule of it?" he quizzed her. Too easy. She desperately hoped the next one was harder.
"It's the rule of 'What's in it for me?' and the principle that you should never offer your services until you know the answer." Wednesday replied. "For me, it's to stop my room mate whining like a kicked puppy. If you do go under, it won't be because I didn't try. For that one reason if nothing else. As for you, you're about to go under. The worst that can happen to you in this instance is that a teenager sees your account books. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain if I can find that money." The moment his eyes closed in resignation, Wednesday knew she'd won it. She'd put a solid case forward and only an idiot would turn her down on the grounds she'd set. And while this man had managed to end up in enough debt to tip him into insolvency, somehow he didn't strike her as one of those.
"Fine." He moved over and raised the counter, allowing the girls into the back. "If you can help, I will officially be in your debt."
"Better me than the bank." Wednesday said as she sat down at the counter. She and Enid waited while he brought the books out. Once they were set in front of her, she started to flick through.
One thing that was clear: this man was clearly no professional accountant. The pages of the books were covered in bloody finger prints from where he'd been handling meat immediately before. In some instances, the pages even stuck together and Wednesday had to be careful to avoid ripping them as she pried them apart. Wednesday stared at what she was seeing in amazement. Now her question wasn't so much about how this man was going bankrupt and more about how it hadn't happened much sooner.
"Mr Simpson, I've never seen such slap-and-dash methods of keeping books in my life!" Wednesday told him honestly. "I haven't time to decipher all this now. There's nothing else for it. With your permission, I shall have to take these back to my dorm room and look them over there." At that, Ted's eyes almost bulged out of his head.
"Now wait a minute, Missy... You looking through the books is one thing. You taking them away is quite another."
"I have curfew coming up." Wednesday told him, not bothering to mention the fact that she'd never paid attention to that in her life. "By tomorrow, we may have missed our window. We do this now or not at all and with your books in this condition I am not going to have time to find answers here. Luckily for us, tomorrow is Saturday and I can come back first thing. Enid, give me a hand packing these up." Enid rushed to help, scooping the papers up and helping to stuff them into Wednesday's backpack. Once they were all accounted for, Wednesday slung her bag onto her back and headed for the door. She had a lot to do tonight and she intended to get to the bottom of this.
The Next Morning...
The first thing Wednesday was aware of was someone shaking her shoulder. Last she remembered, it had been three in the morning and she'd been getting tunnel vision from her second time reading through the documents she'd taken from Ted Simpson. Humiliatingly, she became aware of a small puddle of drool on one of them as two more came up with her, the bloody fingerprints having melted with her body heat and glueing themselves to her face. She looked around blearily to see Enid having crossed the tape line and now standing there bouncing on her toes with an electric sense of expectation. Wednesday let out a sigh as she peeled the papers off her face and turned to face her room mate, her senses instantly kicking in and her eyes growing more alert. Someone had managed to come up on her. Granted it was Enid, but that didn't matter. If she could manage it, how long before it was someone else? Someone she wasn't so safe around?
"Any news?" Enid asked, still bouncing infuriatingly. Anyone else and Wednesday would have broken their toes by now. She was hating herself right now for allowing someone to get the drop on her. And doubly so because that was her second failure in twenty-four hours. She wished she could tell Enid otherwise, but it just wasn't to be.
"I'm sorry, Enid." And she truly meant it. The instant she spoke, her room mate's face fell. Pouting wasn't going to do any good. She could cry all she liked, but it didn't change the situation. "I've been over it twice. I was literally reading until I dropped. And you know it takes a lot for that to happen to me. But I still can't find that five grand! I just don't understand how that sum of money can get someone into so much trouble and it's only just started to be a problem now!"
"I'm sure you did your best, Wednesday." Enid said. Wednesday saw her lift one hand up as though to reach out and make some gesture of comfort. She lowered it again, thinking better of it. Smart girl.
"I'm going for a shower." Wednesday said, rising from her seat. "I need to have a word with Mr Simpson. Not least to apologise." She got up, going to the bottom of her bed and grabbing her towel and wash bag. She headed for the showers, hearing Enid walking back to her bed and sitting down heavily on it. She could feel the other girl's depression from half a room away. Usually she would have revelled in it. But this time it just wasn't coming to her.
The hot water was heavenly on her skin. The temperature she had her showers varied depending on the mood she was in. Usually she had it icy cold to keep her senses sharp and her mind alert. But in times of frustration, the pain of scalding hot water helped to focus her. She stood there, the water running in rivers over her skin as she closed her eyes. Focusing inward, she enjoyed every inch that the painful burning sensation was able to touch. The isolated drops that clung on before torturously sliding down her body, resisting every step of the way to give themselves extra time to burn that specific inch almost working in tandem with her thoughts.
Arthur Conan Doyle once said that once you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains- however improbable- must be the truth. Sherlock Holmes novels, by and large, were something she'd always found to be full of shit. But that one phrase from them was one that definitely held water to this day. And looking at her situation, nothing was different now.
Mr Simpson had somehow found himself in severe financial trouble. One day he'd been completely stable and the next he'd been five-thousand dollars in the red. How could someone just find themselves that far in the hole and not hear the reversing tone of a cement mixer above them already? There was only one conclusion: this debt hadn't just happened. That was impossible.
The next thought was that this had gradually built up over time and gone unnoticed. But that was also impossible. The instant he fell into debt of any kind, the bank would have been after him for that money. There was no way a debt like that could have gone unnoticed. Unless... Unless it didn't.
The thought was enough to give her pause. In and of itself, it was incredibly absurd. But the butcher had seemed embarrassed when she'd spoken to him and embarrassment could make someone prone to very serious and stupid mistakes. And the more she mulled over the possibility in her head, the more sense it made. In a flash, the pieces fit together in her head and the picture they formed was complete. On impulse, she threw her head back as the anger she'd previously been directing towards herself turned outwards. She opened her mouth and let out a scream so powerful that the mirrors along the bathroom basins shattered instantly.
Throwing her clothes on, she grabbed the account books, her umbrella and Enid. Together, they headed to the bus and jumped on, taking a seat and watching the countryside pass them by as it took them into town. The whole way there, Wednesday was radiating waves of heated anger that were almost visible. They certainly drew the attention of the werewolf next to her who kept casting almost fearful glances in her direction. But she didn't say anything. Not one word was exchanged. Not even to question why she had her umbrella when it wasn't raining; although Wednesday saw her look to that too.
The silence continued right up until they walked through the door of the butcher's shop. The bell dinged to announce their arrival and she saw Simpson come from the back of the shop, wiping his hands on a bloodied rag.
"Oh! You're back! Any luck?" There was a look of hope on his face. It was fake.
"You know the answer to that." Wednesday said, her tone ice cold. In an instant, she'd vaulted the counter and was charging at him. The handle of her umbrella came loose from the shaft, the rapier blade contained within slicing through the air until the point was aimed at his throat. "You lied to me!"
"What are you doing?" Enid screamed in horror.
"He played you for a fool, Enid." Wednesday said, her glare never leaving the butcher. "And if you're thinking of reaching for that cleaver in the chopping block, don't bother. I'll take you out before your arm gets to half the height it needs. You know where that money is. You have to know. It's the only explanation. I've been pouring over those papers all night and there is simply no way this could have happened without you knowing before it became this much of a problem. Now you are going to tell me what happened and if I even suspect you're not playing straight I will cut out your tongue and post it to my grandmother for use in her rituals!" Wednesday could hear Enid backing off in fear. And for good reason. Even she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this angry. In that moment, as Wednesday watched, the butcher crumpled. Tears started to flow in a way that could only be genuine and Wednesday lowered her weapon. It had done its job.
"I can't..." he sobbed. "I can't do that to them..."
"Who did you piss off?" Enid asked gently.
"No one." The admission clearly weighed heavily on him. But that didn't stop both the girls from nearly having a fatal coronary as he reached into his shirt pocket and produced several slips of paper. Receipts. To see them made Wednesday feel a sickening jolt in her gut. But not as much as Enid.
"Are you shitting me?" she practically screamed. "I got her involved in this because I love your steak tartare and she's been up all night looking through those books! And all this time, you're carrying the receipts around in your pocket? What the hell is so important you'd let your business fold for it?"
"They're for a Rainbow Shield project." Every word from his mouth hung heavy and they could hear the pain in it. "Sometimes when a young person comes out to their family, the family don't take it well and they throw them out. It's shameful but it happens. The Rainbow Shield have a couple of hostels near here for displaced youth and I provide meat for them. They haven't paid in five months. I should chase it up but I can't go squeezing a charity!"
"You're not squeezing them if they owe it to you." Wednesday said, snatching them from them. Each one had a red rubber stamp that said 'UNPAID' going across it. "So you're in the habit of providing five-hundred dollars of meat a month to each hostel and neither one has paid in five months... Who runs them?"
"They're both run by the same person." He pulled out a chair and sat down, trying to stop his hands from shaking as he grabbed some blue roll of the counter to wipe his face with. "Ms Mazzy. She's a lovely woman. There must be a reason for it, but hell if I know what."
"Is there a phone number for this Ms Mazzy?" Wednesday asked. Wordlessly, Simpson passed his phone over. There was no passcode, so once Enid helped her find the icon for the contact list, Wednesday was effortlessly able to start scrolling through his contacts until she found the one she wanted. Clicking on it, she put the phone to her ear and waited. It picked up on the second ring.
"Ted? I was just about to call you! Listen, about our next meat delivery..."
"There could be a slight delay on that." Wednesday said bluntly.
"Who is this?" the voice demanded.
"Ms Mazzy, this is Wednesday Addams. I'm currently assisting in the affairs of Mr Simpson. He has some unpaid receipts leading back to the Rainbow Shield project and I'm calling to ascertain why neither hostel has paid its meat bill for five months."
"Five months?" The voice carried a note of disbelief. "Has it really been that long? My god, I never intended for that!"
"Intentions are of no matter." Wednesday replied. "Only consequence. And the consequence is that Mr Simpson is in severe financial trouble."
"Well I'm afraid that's not my fault, young lady. That would be Mr Ellsworth."
"Mr Ellsworth?" Wednesday asked, confused. Where had this random name suddenly sprung from.
"Quite correct." Ms Mazzy said and Wednesday was almost certain she was nodding on the other end of the phone. "We had an agreement with him about property leasing. As part of that agreement, he donates some of the back rent from the properties he manages to us. He's supposed to inform us upon termination of the agreement and he has failed to do so, yet I haven't had a cheque from him for five months." Wait... What? So this person was also owed money. Obviously at least five-thousand but potentially a lot more. What the hell had she just gotten herself into? There was only one way to find out. Wednesday inhaled deeply, willing self-control. One way or another, it was going to be a long day.
Thirty Minutes Later...
As luck would have it, Jericho was that sort of small town where everyone knows everyone. So the gossipy werewolf was a perfect companion to have in such an environment. Enid knew who Mr Ellsworth was and all his habits. Including a few Wednesday really didn't need to know and was surprised Enid took such fascination in. But the important one was his eating habits. Every Saturday morning at ten on the dot, he showed up at The Weather Vane for a bite to eat and a drink. It was a Saturday morning and about quarter to ten. They literally couldn't have timed it better. The girls had sprinted down the street and waited. And right on cue, Mr Ellsworth had shown up. Enid had instantly been able to identify him by sight and Wednesday had wasted no time in making her presence known.
"Mr Ellsworth?" she asked, walking over to him. As she did, he seemed to jump a mile. Almost as though her interaction had snapped him out from the stupor of his monotonous routine.
"I am he." His tone was gruff and there was a slight Southern drawl to it. He was dressed in a sharp suit that failed to hide the slight gut he had. At a glance, Wednesday didn't think much to him. Then again, with a routine as monotonous as Enid had described, there probably wasn't much to him anyway.
"My name is Wednesday Addams. I was wondering if we might have a word."
"Depends what it's about." He walked past her and went inside, seeming almost dismayed as the girls followed him. A couple of people gave looks as he entered with two much younger girls in tow behind him, but screw them. They didn't understand the situation and it wasn't for them to understand anyway.
"It's about the Rainbow Shield project." That stopped him cold. He turned to them, his voice hushed.
"Grab a booth and I'll be over to join you. Do you want anything?"
"No." Wednesday turned on her heel with Enid close behind. Together, they found a table and waited. True to his word, he did come to them and join them. As he did, there was no mistaking the nervousness with which his hands were shaking.
"Now look, I'm not sure what you've heard about me... When my daughter... You know, I just didn't understand then like I do now! Back then, these sorts of things... It just wasn't something that came up."
"I assure you, that's not what this is about." Wednesday said calmly. "I was informed you have an understanding with Ms Mazzy that involves you donating a monthly sum to the Rainbow Shield project. But she's not had anything for five months. Because of that, the hostels haven't been able to pay their meat bill and now the butcher here is going under. He feels his two options are to accept it or resort to squeezing a charity and I'm sure you'll understand why that's not fair to him." At her words, Mr Ellsworth sat back and rubbed the top of his head, letting out a sigh.
"Well do give him my apologies. I would help if I could, but I simply can't pay him with money I myself am waiting on." At that, Enid promptly swallowed her own breath and choked. Wednesday waited patiently as she coughed and spluttered, never once making a move to bash her on the back to try and help her. It took a few minutes, stares from a lot of patrons and Tyler seeing what was happening from behind the counter and bringing her a glass of tap water for her to be able to breathe normally again. Once she was sorted out, Wednesday turned back to Mr Ellsworth, her composure still firmly fixed.
"Explain."
"You see, I lease several business properties in this neighbourhood." Ellsworth said, adjusting his blazer. "I charge a fair rent of seven-hundred and fifty dollars a month as standard, but adjust depending on the business and whether they might be able to afford it."
"Of course." Wednesday nodded.
"Anyway, one client has been great with her rent for a number of years. But about seven months ago, the payments started to drop off. For the last few months I've received nothing at all. In actual fact, it tallies out at roughly five large. Or near as dammit enough that I'll round it out as that." Wednesday could feel that telltale twitch behind her left eye that meant she was due a migraine.
"So you are also owed five-thousand dollars." Wednesday concluded. "Who's the target." At that, Enid roughly punched her on the left arm. It was only as she was about to whirl around and strangle the werewolf that she realised what she'd just said. Sure enough, Ellsworth had also given her a very wary look. If she wanted to get that name then she couldn't be making mistakes like that. "Client! I meant client!"
One Hour Later...
Wednesday sat down uncomfortably in the one room she hated most out of everywhere in Jericho. In spite of it, part of her couldn't help being impressed. There were no leg irons, no thumbscrews, no guillotine and no Justin Bieber CDs. Just incredibly plush seats and an invitation to make yourself at home. And yet somehow, this place managed to be its own unique form of torture. That was to say nothing of the person who ran it. The mental gymnast who could bend your mind in seven directions at once. Or try to, in Wednesday's case.
"I must say, I was delighted by how eager you actually were to come to a session today." Doctor Kinbott said as she took a seat and set her notepad on her lap. "I'd like to think that's a sign of progress."
"As it happens, I actually have use for a session." Wednesday told her. "I was already in town on business and I need to bring a fresh pair of eyes on it. I need to consult you on something."
"Oh?" Doctor Kinbott picked up her pen eagerly and got ready to write. "Tell me everything." And for once, Wednesday was eager to.
"I must say I don't think I've ever seen anything like it in all my life. It's quite the web of intrigue and the local butcher of all people is caught in the middle of it. There are plenty of others in the web, too. The question is, who are the flies and who is the spider?"
"Ooh, I like that metaphor." Kinbott said as she shivered in anticipation. "I can see why you have dreams of being a writer. Then again, your manuscripts also made your talent clear." Wednesday once again was forced to brush off the fact that this woman had read her manuscripts without her knowledge or consent and take the compliment like a bullet to the chest.
"You see, the local butcher is in severe financial trouble." Wednesday explained. "Now my room mate loves the steak tartare she gets from there. At her insistence and with his permission, I was able to trace the money back to Mr Ellsworth." At that, Doctor Kinbott paled considerably. She set her notes down as an angry expression crossed her face. Clearly she knew exactly where this was going.
"Now Wednesday, I'm pleased you've found the compassion within yourself to help someone out of a bad situation, but tracing money and intruding on people's business is far from appropriate!"
"Don't deflect me." Wednesday said bluntly. "You know what I'm talking about. Ellsworth mentioned you by name. The payments dropped off properly four months ago and were scarcely coming in before that. This debt has landed in your court and a local business is in danger because of it. Now let's be clear here: I don't care about local business politics. I'd take a wrecking ball to the place tonight just to watch people cry over it. What I care about is how much Enid's crying will annoy me if I were to let him go under because I actually have to live with her. Now what happened?" Doctor Kinbott's glare lasted a few more seconds but Wednesday's own neutral expression was more powerful. Realising she wasn't going to get anywhere, she gave up.
"Uh, fine." She uncrossed her legs and set back, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "I've been on time with my rent for the last five years that I've been helping Nevermore students. I knew that record would buy me some clemency. The problem wasn't a lack of money. Nevermore alone pays me more than enough for my help. The problem was that someone else had more need of it." As her words processed in Wednesday's brain, a sense of abject dread settled in. This didn't end with Doctor Kinbott. God dammit! She'd so hoped to find evidence of bank fraud or something and have the therapist arrested so she didn't have to keep seeing her. Clearly it wasn't to be.
"So you've been lending it to someone else and you're also owed." Wednesday concluded. "Should have seen that one coming. Who is it?" At that, Kinbott let out an irritated sigh before getting up.
"Come here. There's something I want to show you." At her beckoning, Wednesday got up to follow her. They walked to the other end of the room where a simple desk sat. "Did you know that coming in here every day and listening to how everyone else's lives are imploding is not the easiest thing in the world?" she said as she opened a desk drawer and took out a key. "A therapist needs a way to keep their own mind stable. We all have our hobbies. And for me..." With that, she walked to a cupboard on the other wall and opened it.
There wasn't much in the world that could shock Wednesday Addams. The fiasco she'd found herself up to her neck in had certainly come close. She'd never expected it to go this deep. But when Doctor Kinbott opened the cupboard, that definitely did it. She'd always assumed the therapist was a very one-dimensional person who was prying into other people's lives to cover up the fact she was unloved and childless. As she took in the shelves full of taxidermied animals, she realised she'd had no idea how wrong she was. There were possums, rats, squirrels, two shrews and even a badger that was taking pride of place on the top shelf. The badger almost didn't look real. But it definitely was. She could see where the crows had been at it before the now seemingly mad doctor had gotten to it. And she liked it.
"You're the one who makes these?" To her horror, Wednesday felt a grin tug at the corners of her mouth. "I've seen them in... Uriah's Heap. Are you trying to tell me that Connie owes you?"
"Before I became a therapist I was studying to be an embalmer." Kinbott told her as she shut the cupboard back up and locked the door. "Then I got a harsh lesson that, while helping the dead was a good cause, I could do so much more for the living. Connie and I have known each other a while and she loves these. So do her clients. And Vermont has no shortage of roadkill. The trouble is, they don't sell for too much. A small town means a small client base. And she needed it quick. She wouldn't say why."
"Then I need to ask her." Wednesday said as she walked back over to the sofa and picked up her bag, shouldering it.
"But what about today's session?" Kinbott asked, turning on her heel to follow Wednesday with her gaze as the young witch headed for the door.
"Rain check." The door slammed behind her as she left. Her usually silent footfalls were atypically heavy as she stormed down the hall towards the entrance, where she knew Enid would be waiting for her.
Uriah's Heap...
As the door swung open with a crash, Connie looked up to see who'd come into her shop with such purpose. And at the sight of her most invested window shopper, her smile grew. She set her cup down and made her way out from the counter.
"Wednesday Addams! What brings you here with such urgency? You almost made me spill my chaga! Now what can I do for you?"
"You can give me some answers." Wednesday said abruptly, deciding to dispense with pleasantries as she walked over, leaving Enid to pick her way cautiously through all the artifacts in the shop. At that moment, she bumped a cabinet and knocked a green glass bottle off the top that was wrapped in an interwoven mesh of netting rope. Wednesday whirled and caught it, setting it back on top with so much care that someone might think it liable to detonate. "Careful, Enid! That's a witch bottle! If you break that, you might unleash a vengeful spirit upon the shop! And while I would have the time of my life, I don't think Connie would appreciate it as much." At that, Enid turned pale.
"Uh, I think I'll head across to Hawte Kewture."
"A sound idea." Wednesday nodded. "I shall see you outside that garish void of teen fashion victimisation in a few minutes." Wordlessly, Enid backed out of the shop. Wednesday watched her go, waiting until the door had shut properly before turning back to Connie and explaining the situation. Desperately hoping this would be the last time, she went through everything piece-by-piece. By the time she was done, Connie had found herself having to sit down again.
"I knew I shouldn't have borrowed that money." Wednesday could see she was close to tears, but there was nothing she could do to help. Clearly, Connie had made her own bed. Now it was hers to lie in. "I didn't want to do it but she just needed it so badly..." At that moment, Wednesday felt her stomach drop. Not another rung on this forsaken ladder! Please god no!
A few minutes later, Wednesday left Uriah's heap in an officially foul mood. As she stepped out into the open air, the sky darkened as black clouds covered the sky above. It was as though the sun itself had sensed her presence and was fleeing in terror. Thunder rumbled overhead and she knew rain was coming. It felt fitting since she was ready to drop to her knees and burst out laughing in a fit of insanity.
At that moment, she saw a flash of dyed pastel hair as Enid ran across the road to her. She wasn't her usual bubbly self either and seemed to be moving with a sense of urgency. She arrived and looked Wednesday over with concern. She didn't even have to speak before the gothic witch answered the question that was most likely on her lips.
"I can't stand any more of this, Enid. You want to know why I enjoy my own company so much? This. This is why."
"Oh, I know." Enid replied. "You won't believe what Lisa from Hawte Kewture just told me..."
One Day Later...
It had taken the rest of the day to arrange a time for get everyone together. Convincing some parties to drop their plans had been the furthest thing from easy. Fortunately, Wednesday had been able to work out where to lean in the cases that she needed to. The result was a sunny Sunday morning that saw everyone sat in Doctor Kinbott's therapy room at eleven on the dot. It seemed appropriate. If she seemed content to get inside the minds of those whose lives were on a downward spiral and torture them from the inside out over it, then Wednesday had decided it couldn't hurt her to take a crack at it. Doctor Kinbott was getting water for everyone on the pretence of helping them get settled, when in reality Wednesday could see that she was the one whose hands were shaking. Perfect.
Knowing the time was right, she and Enid walked in. Enid was carrying a brown manilla envelope and seemed just as nervous as everyone else. But it was definitely Wednesday that all eyes were glaring at. She wasn't sure who'd speak first, but it was Mayor Walker who broke the silence.
"Would you mind telling us why we're here, Miss Addams?" he asked pointedly, levelling a glare at her that was nothing she hadn't encountered before.
"As I told you on the phone, Mayor Walker." Wednesday said calmly. "A local business is struggling. Everyone here is involved somehow. But especially you, since it's your constituency. I thought you'd want to be a part of doing some good for it."
"I do good work for my constituency." Mayor Walker shot back irritably. "That's the whole point of holding office. If this doesn't pan out to be worth my time, Miss Addams, Nevermore will be hearing from me. That much is a promise."
"And I promise that your time here will be very worth it, Mayor." Wednesday said as she smoothed down her dress and got ready to start. "Now, you're all here because of a financial situation involving the local butcher, Mr Simpson." Wednesday gestured to the butcher who flamed red with embarrassment. "He ended up owing the bank five-thousand dollars because the meat bills for two Rainbow Shield hostels had not been paid for five months by Ms Mazzy." Wednesday gestured to the woman with the purple frizzy hair who pushed her glasses up her nose and pulled her rainbow-knit cardigan tighter around herself as her hackles visibly raised. "She herself was owed it as part of a deal by Mr Ellsworth who had yet to receive it from Doctor Kinbott. Doctor Kinbott had lent it to Connie from Uriah's Heap and she herself had further passed it on to someone else."
"Is airing all this dirty laundry really necessary?" Doctor Kinbott said uncomfortably as she shifted in her seat. Wednesday wanted to keep her like that for a while longer, but she had to keep moving before everyone decided they'd had enough and tried to up and leave. She'd rather not have to start breaking kneecaps to keep people in their seats.
"Well there's no reason to be ashamed of it." Her words were reluctant but truthful. "Any of you. I said to Ms Mazzy on the phone that intentions were of no matter. Only consequence. On this occasion- for reasons I will get into- I admit I stand corrected. Intentions were the key to solving this and you all acted with the best possible intentions in mind. It's incredibly nauseating and just a smidge boring if I do say so myself. But that doesn't answer the question: who could possibly need that much money in such a short space of time? And more to the point, why would they need it? To quote my room mate once upon a time: it's a real brain cramp. If it was for healthcare, it would amount to much more than that. But there are very few things that fall so accurately into that specific bracket of numbers. And that brings us quite neatly to the missing factor. The X to find in the equation. The spider in the web of intrigue that nearly had me asking my Uncle Fester if he knew of a good holiday institution I could book into. And in this case that happens to be you, Mayor Walker." At her words, a collective gasp rang out around the room. "Through a level of greed and profiteering that- quite frankly- needs a standing ovation to be fully appreciated, you are responsible for this affair so sordid that even I find myself having had my fill of it." They all turned to him, mixed expressions of betrayal and anger on all of their faces. And his own anger only grew as a result.
"Little Missy, you will prove that or apologise!" he snapped.
"Well I certainly won't apologise." Wednesday said as she turned to Enid. "Get her in here." Enid nodded and ran to the door, opening it and sticking her head out.
"You can come in now." There was a pause as everyone waited. Slowly and carefully, Enid led in Lisa from Hawte Kewture, who was almost shaking with fear. "It's okay." Enid assured her. "Just tell them what you told me yesterday."
"Well..." Lisa said, her voice trembling... "Mayor Walker there is my landlord. It's been nice here. A small town rent for a small town house. And sometime last year, he stopped me on my driveway and told me he was having to up the rent from three-hundred dollars a month to six-hundred dollars a month! Well I told him I couldn't possibly afford it, of course! I'm a single woman who owns her own business in a small town! There's surprisingly little money to be made in that after tax! Some days it hardly seems worth it! But he assured me there was nothing to worry about. I could owe it to him. And then back in April, he sat me down for a drink and broke the news that I owed him five-thousand dollars-" In that moment, she broke down. She threw her arms around Enid who held on tight. Everyone waited with baited breath until she was able to talk again. "Anyway... He said he was a reasonable man. He said he'd forget the whole thing... That we could come to an arrangement."
"You bastard!" Enid snapped, turning to glare at Mayor walker along with everyone else. A cacophony of disapproving voices rose up, as did Connie. She walked over as Mayor Walker stood up to meet her. Meet they did as she reached him and swung her fist heavily. The blow connected and he sat down again abruptly as Doctor Kinbott stood up from her place next to him. Suddenly, standing seemed like the more appealing option.
"You would attack me?" he spat, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth onto his sleeve. "I'll get the sheriff round here faster than you can blink and have you carted off out of here!"
"And tell him you got punched out?" Wednesday challenged him. "He will want to know the circumstances surrounding that. What will you tell him?" That shut Mayor Walker up. "Now, we can't arrest you. Sheriff Galpin couldn't do it on account of being too close. That means we'd have to get non-local cops on it and that would bring more publicity than I think anyone here wants. I promised you that you were about to be part of doing something good for the people here and I stand by that promise. You are going to pay back every penny of that money and then some. And you're going to do it right now. Here. At this drinks table that your ass has just been sat down in front of."
"How?" he asked, glaring up at her venomously. "It's not like I just carry that amount around with me!" At that, Wednesday turned to her companion and held out her hand.
"Enid, the envelope." Enid handed it over and Wednesday hooked her thumb in the gap at the top, ripping it open and withdrawing something from inside. "I have in this envelope the sum of five-thousand dollars. Plus a ten percent late fee. It was donated by some very generous home owners in the local area. In some cases, I didn't even have to start cutting people. It tallies to fifty-five hundred in total. I also had a very nice chat with a local bank teller. He helped me make up a cheque to your account to be paid in cash. All you have to do is sign it." With that, she deposited the envelope and the cheque in front of the mayor.
"Anyone got a-" He hadn't even finished the sentence before a pen was being waved in front of him by Doctor Kinbott, having just retrieved it from one of her notebooks. Reluctantly, he took it and signed. With that, he picked up the money and walked over to Lisa, holding it out to her. He couldn't look her in the eye. Lisa took it from him quickly, almost as though she feared his touch was poisonous, before escaping to the couches and handing it to Connie.
"Ooh, now I know what real power feels like!" Connie said as she stared with an almost hungry expression at the money. At that moment, she burst out laughing and turned, passing it to Doctor Kinbott. "I'm only joking. It's all yours, honey. And thank you. From both of us."
"It was my pleasure." Doctor Kinbott nodded. "Let's just make it a one-time thing, okay?"
"Deal." Connie nodded as Kinbott turned to Mr Ellsworth.
"Mr Ellsworth- your money and a ten percent overpayment to make up for the shortfall."
"Thank you kindly, Doctor Kinbott." Mr Ellsworth nodded as he turned to the next person in the line. "As promised, Ms Mazzy. Please accept the extra ten percent with my apologies and my complements."
"Thank you, Mr Ellsworth." Ms Mazzy said as she took the money and turned in her seat. "And to you, Mr Simpson. Please accept my apologies for all this on behalf of the Rainbow Shield project. As it happens, we have a big event coming up for the displaced youth in our care very soon. And now that our books are stable, you can expect a big order from us in the very near future. Believe that."
"Thank you kindly, Ma'am." Mr Simpson nodded. "And you have my word that I shall be heading down the bank first thing tomorrow morning to pay off that overdraft and save my business. I mean, I'd do it today but they're not open on a Sunday."
"You know, I'd never normally do this but who wants to go for a drink?" Doctor Kinbott asked. "I have a bottle of wine somewhere at my place."
"I'm in." Connie nodded. "Lisa?"
"Have you only got the one bottle?" Lisa asked, prompting a round of laugher.
"Who else?" Doctor Kinbott called out, prompting a cheer from everyone else in the room who was old enough. And that was when they turned to the one person in the room who shouldn't have cheered along with them. "Not you." Doctor Kinbott said to Mayor Walker. "Everyone else, back to mine! Wednesday and Enid, thank you so much for everything you've done. Wednesday... This was a difficult matter for all involved. You've done a beautiful thing today and you've done it amazingly. I want you to know that I'll be speaking highly of you this week to the relevant people."
"Oh..." Wednesday said, almost dejectedly. "Well that's not why I did this at all!" Oddly enough, that seemed to throw a tiny spanner into the works as was reflected in Doctor Kinbott's expression.
"Well then why did you do all this?" she asked.
"As I told you in my session." Wednesday said, looking at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "My room mate wouldn't stop bitching about it." At that, Doctor Kinbott glanced between the two of them. A knowing look crossed her face.
"If there was ever proof that Wednesday Addams has a heart..."
"Don't worry." Wednesday assured her. "I'm an expert in making evidence disappear." With one last smile in her direction, Doctor Kinbott turned to follow the leaving crowd. As they all departed, she noticed Mr Simpson making his way over. Enid saw and moved over to the side of the room. This wasn't her moment.
"Miss Addams, I... Well, I don't know where to even begin. And I can't even begin to think how I might thank you."
"This all started because Enid loves your steak tartare." Wednesday told him. "If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have given this a second glance. It would be her you owe the debt to. Get her a huge portion of it. I'm talking an ice cream tub full. You know how she likes it. You've been making it for her since she was eleven."
"I'll get on that as soon as I get back from the bank." Mr Simpson nodded. "You have my word on that." With that, he clutched the envelope to his chest and headed out.
"You know, Doctor Kinbott was right." Enid said as she made her way over. "You have done a good thing. It must feel good, right?" She moved in for a hug and Wednesday automatically took an uncertain step back. Enid realised what she'd just done and lowered her arms. "Of course. Still not a hugger. Got it."
"To answer your question, it feels weird." Wednesday replied. "Like being poisoned. There's that tingly feeling before the toxins get into your system." At that, Enid gave Wednesday an uncertain side-eye.
"You really are weird as shit." The remark was casual as she walked off. For some reason, it hit slightly harder than the last time she'd said it. Especially since Enid was actually right. Whenever she'd been poisoned, that tingly feeling had been the part she'd relished the most. Hurriedly, she decided she needed to think about something else. She went to leave, but spotted Mayor Walker still sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Wednesday made her way over, standing behind him close enough that he jolted when she spoke.
"As someone who prides themselves on their ability to stay alert, I have always believed that the two things you don't want hampering you are regrets and alcohol. For you, tonight will probably be full of both. You would do well not to let either become a habit." With that, she spun on her heel and headed out after Enid. The two girls met in the corridor where Doctor Kinbott was standing by the door as she waited to lock up after them.
Epilogue
Wednesday Addams came in after a particularly hard day of classes followed by an extensive study session in the library. Her sentence in the Nevermore Maximum Security Institution starting mid-term meant extra work to catch up with everyone else. Her step was more of a trudge as she kicked her shoes off by the bed. Turning around, she lay down and crossed her arms before closing her eyes. The ability to finally relax as much as she could in a bed that wasn't truly her own felt like true heaven after a stressful day. As much as she did miss Pugsley waiting to ambush her with a dagger or meat cleaver or do something else like kidnapping her, tying her to a chair and force-feeding her poisons. But that was the difference between them. He struggled in using his talents outside the family whereas any who would dare accuse her of reticence would find their tongues missing. Or planted firmly in another orifice. But as it stood in this moment, this was one of the quietest moments she had to rest her aching head in quite a while. She could afford to get a few minutes of sleep before her writing time.
"Wednesday!" And now it was over. The door burst open as Enid entered in a blaze of colour and energy. Wednesday was barely able to suppress a sigh and sat up with visible effort. Enid did a double-take before seeing the state of her. "Oh god, you look awful. You've been doing too much. No matter. What I have here will perk you right up! I'll go grab us spoons!" Before Wednesday could protest, Enid had run off. She came back seconds later wielding a spoon in each hand and knelt down next to the bed pulling the lid off what Wednesday was quickly realising was an ice cream tub. But what was inside was definitely not ice cream. It took her deep fried brain a few second to work out exactly what it was: steak tartare.
"Enid..." Wednesday said, trying to find the words. "I've had a really rough day today even by my standards and-"
"Nope." Enid said simply as she took the spoon with a black handle and scooped some of the food onto it. "Won't hear a word of it. Now here comes the train into the tunnel." Just as Wednesday opened her mouth to protest, Enid jammed it home. The taste hit instantly. The energy took a few more seconds, but when it did it hit hard. The young witch sat up properly and swung her feet off the bed as she turned to face her room mate.
"Okay, maybe you have taste in some things." It was a painful admission, but one she made truthfully.
"I knew you'd love it!" Enid practically cheered. "Ted was so grateful for what you did that he gave me a whole ice cream tub of the stuff. Don't worry. In a tub like this it'll keep. And I can put what we can't face immediately in the fridge."
"I shall have to ask Father to drop Mr Simpson a line." Wednesday said. "See if he's willing to cater this stuff for Addams events. We strive to provide our guests with only the finest, after all."
"After what you did for him, I'm sure he'll definitely be open to it." Enid replied as she stood up. Wednesday shuffled over to let her sit down. Usually she wouldn't have, but sharing a tub like this sort of meant they both needed easy access to it. But as Enid sat down, her hand brushed something that caused her to look to the side and let out a scream. "Ah! Oh god, that is so gross!" Looking over, Wednesday got up and headed around to the bottom of her bed to see what Enid was on about.
That was when she saw it. She'd been so tired upon getting to the room that she hadn't even noticed it. But there it was, sitting idly on her laundry hamper in pride of place at the foot of her bed like nothing had happened. Fascinated, Wednesday walked around the bed and bent down to examine the finished piece.
The badger had certainly scrubbed up well. Its sightless eyes were varnished in such a way that they appeared emotionless yet talkative at the same time. The body had been wrapped lightly in a mesh of spider webs made of glittery black wool. And under the lifted right foreleg stood a heart made of black glass. It had been etched with a dremel tool, each letter precisely cut with a practised hand.
'PROOF THAT WEDNESDAY ADDAMS HAS A HEART.'
Doctor Kinbott. Of course. That was okay. As Wednesday herself had said, she was an expert at making evidence disappear. And while she was disposing of the incriminating badger, she decided that a certain death threat might just join it on the pyre.
End!
Author's Note: This is a new idea I wanted to trial. I really enjoyed writing it and I'd love to know what you think. Specifically whether you'd like to see more of these. If I were to plan out a couple more of these oneshots where Wednesday Addams solves problems of varying kinds, is that something you guys would be interested in reading? If so, I'm definitely up for writing them. Even with the amount of ongoing multi-chapter projects I'm working on.
Now, I've been taking a short break after I finished Guiding Light. The whole saga where I wrote that story, lost it, got most of it back and then had to rewrite the last bit all over again is one I've explained before and won't be going into details about here. But needless to say it left me more than a little fatigued and that was before we even get to factoring in a whole load of life stuff. Fortunately, I'm as much a reader as I am a writer. And there have been some great Wednesday fanfictions to read while I've been working or whenever I've needed to take some time away from the real world. Which of late has been more frequently than I would have liked. So while I know most of you have probalbly already checked these stories out since they're by some great authors and are pretty popular on the site, I feel it only fair I should give them a shout-out and recommend them. So here goes:
The Passion of a Moment: Enid and Wednesday's Family and Legacy by Fun But Shy Girl. (Full disclosure: I myself have made contributions to some of the later chapters in this one in collaberation with the author. I am not recommending it for that reason. I am recommending it because the writer has genuinely put a lot of passion and love into this story.)
The Wolf and The Raven by i-am-gek,
Not Alone by jadefirefly3D,
The Broken Sun and The Healing Moon by Monks-GCA,
Wednesday's Adventures in Party Planning (also by jadefirefly3D),
Wolves and Goths mix well by ScarTerror The Fallen,
I crawled my way out of hell for you by Usiel21,
To conquer the darkness (also by Usiel21),
It All Burns Brighter by AndShowMeTheStars.
These stories are just a few of the many that I have had the privilege to read on this fandom and have most recently had an amazing time doing so. For now, as I recharge my batteries, my uploads for this final month and a bit of 2023 will be oneshots like this. There are multi-chapter projects coming in 2024. For details on those please check out the Previews Chapter at the end of Guiding Light. For everything else, please feel free to ask in a review or PM and I will get back to you as best I can. Stay safe out there and I hope to see you all for the next story.