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The trunk was large, black, and leather. The leather was peeling in places, the hinges squeaked, and the inside smelled ever so slightly of belladonna. There were two hidden pockets and a false bottom with holders for vials and bottles and just the right padding to make sure the chains didn’t rattle. Generations of Addams had used it to travel far and wide. It was perfect.
It was empty.
Wednesday stared at the empty cavern before her and sighed a little. Move in day at the university wasn’t going to stop getting closer, but that wasn’t helping her figure out what to take and what to leave behind. Wednesday picked up Marie Antoinette (both pieces) and hugged her tight.
Why did growing up have to be so hard?
The small pile of objects already on the bed included rope, a small ax, three small flat knives, five black dresses, a set of black sheets, and a bottle each of cyanide, chloroform, and strychnine. Thing had been busily adding things to the pile for the last hour, scurrying around Wednesday’s room sorting through her things.
Thing appeared out of the closet holding a pair of black boots, shaking them in Wednesday’s direction.
“Yes, I know I have to start somewhere. I just...I will pack. I will.” Wednesday looked around the room and at the empty trunk again and sank onto the bed. The list sent by the university wasn't any help: clothes, toiletries, a robe, flip-flops (what were those?), a shower caddy (?), a towel, a computer, and a lot of other things Wednesday wasn't quite certain of. Nothing about chemicals (perhaps they were provided?), or swords, or poisons. Just a note that guns weren't allowed.
“Maybe tomorrow?” She said to Thing.
Thing threw the boots at her head and proceeded to scold her in a series of rapid sign language and a few rude gestures. He ended pointing at the pile, pointing at the trunk, and shaking a finger at her.
“I know I said I would pack today. I know we’re leaving in a few days. I know.” Wednesday fidgeted with the little bottles of poison while Thing opened his hand palm up, then scuttled over to pat her on the knee.
“Wednesday?” Pubert called, coming into the room with an armful of chains, a mace, a cannonball, and the disassembled bits of a rack.
Pubert’s unnatural strength had only continued to grow as he did, until there was little in the house or out of it that he couldn’t carry. One couldn’t quite tell, of course, but Wednesday suspected Lurch was the one of the family most pleased by this, as it meant a great deal of carrying was left to the youngest Addams instead of their ever overworked butler.
“Are you going to want any of this stuff?” Pubert asked. Pugsley walked in behind him, holding bear traps, a shovel, and the rest of the rack. It was her favorite rack, one she’d used on her brothers many times.
“I don’t know. Well, probably not the rack. I won’t have you two to torture at college.”
Pubert shifted the bulk to one arm and poked Wednesday.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone to torture at college. And you’ll be home to torture us every break, because no one could torture us like you.”
“That sounds suspiciously well rehearsed. Who put you up to it?”
“Uncle Fester and Aunt Dementia.”
“Of course.”
“Why are you so worried?” asked Pugsley, “You get to go away and meet new people and go all new places, and have classes where they will let you take apart dead people.” Pugsley had made it clear he was jealous Wednesday was older and going away first. Pubert, however, seemed delighted as he had taken to saying “one down, one to go, and then I get to pretend to be an only child!” where he knew she could hear him.
“Do you remember Amanda, from summer camp that horrid summer when Uncle Fester was married to the black widow and we got sent away?”
“yes, how could I forget, you nearly scalped her. It was the most awesome summer ever.”
“What if my roommate hates me. What if she is just like Amanda--perky, and boring, and pink and...blonde. And thinks I’m weird. What if she hates black and spiders and dead things? What if she hates me? Or worse, likes me and decides I need ‘help’ to be ‘normal’.”
Her brothers looked at each other and dumped their armloads of stuff on the floor, then pulled Wednesday between them.
“It will be fine. You’ll be fine, and if your roommate is boring you’ll just have to scare her to death. Then you’ll have the room all to yourself.”
“Thanks Pugsley. Now let go of me before I poison you. And get out of my room.” The boys scrambled away, laughing.
She’d miss them. At some point, surely.
Wednesday steeled herself, squared her shoulders, and picked up her spare boots from where Thing had thrown them. Then, with a deep breath, placed them firmly in a corner of the trunk.
“Well. It’s a start.”
Wednesday stepped into the room that would be her home for the next nine months. It was a spartan white box with a bed, desk, chair and wardrobe. So the black sheets needed to be the first thing out, then. Perhaps she could convince her roommate to go for blackout curtains? With that thought her earlier worries of an Amanda-like perky blonde princess came rushing back. She was so focused on how she was going to make this white hell livable that Wednesday didn’t hear the person set up behind her.
“Well...this is really...white. Really white.” The girl says. “How do you feel about black?” She glanced down at Wednesday’s dress and over at the black sheets she’d already set out on the bed. “I’m going to guess all for it? Awesome. I brought blackout curtains.”
She wasn’t blonde. She was a bit perky. She was also wearing a black dress and large black boots. There was a small plastic case in her hand. The girl noticed Wednesday look at it.
“Oh, um, I hope you aren’t afraid of spiders. He’s harmless, really, mostly anyway, and I just couldn’t leave him at home.” She held up the little case to reveal a tarantula. Wednesday reached out and took the case.
“He’s perfect. I’m Wednesday.”
“I’m Abby. You know, I was really worried about the whole blind roommate thing, but I think we are going to get along just fine.”
“I think so too.” said Wednesday. “Let’s unpack.”