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The playground was cheerful. Far too cheerful for the five-year-old standing before it in stark contrast – all black and white, whole body frowning in disgust, down to the limp braided pigtails. Children screaming and laughing, zipping around slides and swings with gusto while their parents chattered innocuously in the shade of trees and on small benches off to the side.
Wednesday stared at it all, eyes flickering from one end to the other, taking in all of the colors and the flashes of glitter and light-up shoes and her eyes drifted up to stare at her parents. “Seriously?” She questioned.
Gomez bowed slightly towards her voice, watching Morticia settle Pugsley onto the mulch to toddle towards a bright puzzle board, hitting it face-first and falling backwards, chuckling in amusement to himself. Glancing back at Wednesday, Gomez offered lightly, “Try to widen your horizons my little araña venenosa, it’s not often you get to sample the local flavors of a new city so far from home.”
“I’d rather drink arsenic,” Wednesday retorted, crossing her arms, turning away from her father with a small swish of her black and white polka dot dress. She peered around. “The only thing saving this outing are the black clouds on the horizon, threatening me with a good time.”
Sighing, Gomez set his hand gently between her shoulder blades and gave her a small push towards the chaos in front of her. Wednesday stumbled slightly, eyes fluttering from one confused child to the next, starting to stare at her with unmistakable fear as she made her way towards a swing set.
Void of color, silver chains holding black rubber seats. Safe from her allergies, she knew, in a way nothing else here was. She sat, fingertips curling around the metal links as she let her feet dangle, watching the polished black leather reflect the world around her as she moved her legs back and forth with little intent.
“Howdy, stranger!”
The voice was so loud and sharp, Wednesday inhaled in shock. Ordinarily she would have welcomed the fright, even congratulated the one who brought it on, but now she slowly brought her steely eyes up from the ground to slowly widen at the sight before her.
From a sparkling set of pink sneakers to a pair of neon green and yellow leggings that disappeared underneath a dirt-streaked pair of overalls covered in patches and drawings. An oversized blue and purple tie-dye shirt sat, barely contained, beneath those overalls as well, making the pale arms that were swinging slowly seem that much thinner.
Wednesday swallowed roughly, her eyes itching as she followed the delicate skin at that neckline to the tight-lipped smile on a round face framed by blonde almost-white hair. Radiant blue eyes stared at her. Hopeful, waiting. Mesmerizing in a way that burned Wednesday’s tiny soul. She tore her eyes away, furrowing her brow to stare at the ground.
“I’m not looking for company,” Wednesday finally managed.
“Oh,” it was a simple sad sound.
The swing next to her squeaked lightly underneath the girl’s weight and Wednesday’s gaze shifted to look to her there, swinging slowly, head bowed, lips turned down. Brightness slowly fading as she kicked the mulch softly.
“I will allow it,” Wednesday told her then, sure she would regret it.
Her thick brow lifted and she smiled towards her, eyes narrowing into slits. Wednesday turned away from the way she seemed to illuminate again, body straightening as the girl began to pump her legs to swing, feet giving a little wiggle. Infuriatingly hard to take her eyes off, Wednesday realized.
“My parents are here to look into a Camp Chippewa, much to my disdain.” The words emerged before she could stop them. The beginning of a conversation she hadn’t intended and she felt a small surge of surprise at her mouth for having let it escape.
The other girl’s lips twisted, thinking, “My parents say it’s for uppities. I think they mean rich people. I’m too young for camp, but one day I hope to go to Camp Howl-Away.” She eyed Wednesday a moment before whispering, “I’m a werewolf.” Then she shrugged, “I mean, one day I will be.”
Wednesday’s legs stopped their swinging and she raised her head in fascination. A werewolf, a young werewolf, sitting beside her. Her heart thumped – it was almost a dream come true, except her dreams weren’t in so much… color. She studied her a moment, seeing the way her cheeks reddened at the attention before the girl leapt from the swing to pace and then stand before her.
“You’re staring,” she finally told her. “It’s weird.”
“I’m weird,” Wednesday replied confidently. “Tell me more about being a werewolf.”
The laugh came easily, like the sun rising in the morning, Wednesday thought foolishly, watching the way her hands splayed as they swung; how her legs didn’t merely walk, they danced. Not a single molecule in this girl seemed to still for too long, like pure energy in a living form and the thought made her look away, but her curiosity brought her eyes back.
“My pack is my family. Mom and dad,” she pointed to a woman with unruly hair and a red-haired man. Then her other hand shot out towards the playground where Wednesday could see four boys chasing one another. “Those are my brothers. The big one’s the oldest,” she smiled proudly at a tall boy at the top. “Then momma had three of them at the same time – three,” she looked to Wednesday, eyes saucer-like as she held up three fingers, mouthing the word in silence before continuing, “And then came me. I’m a runt.”
“A runt,” Wednesday repeated, looking her over again.
Nodding, the blonde girl twisted, “Mom says there’s not much potential – I’m not sure what she means.”
Frowning, Wednesday looked back to her own brother, repeatedly banging his head into the same puzzle board as their mother looked on. Their father pressing a line of kisses up her arm that Wednesday turned away from with a curl of her upper lip.
“It means your mother doesn’t think you’ll amount to much,” Wednesday informed her, eyes shifting back to see the confusion on her face. “It’s a terrible thing for a mother to say, unless it’s true.”
With a nod the girl pressed her fingers together, twisting them. “I can’t run as fast as my brothers and I’m not nearly as strong. My howl is pretty good though – do you want to hear it?”
No, Wednesday meant to say, sternly, but instead she breathed a quiet, “Yes.”
A howl, from a werewolf. Even a runt with limited potential is more than she’d ever experienced. The girl tilted her head back and released a long awooooooo that sent a shiver down Wednesday’s spine.
“Enid! You cut that out!” Came the cry from across the playground, the woman with the disheveled hair pointing towards them with a look of annoyance creasing her sharp features.
Wednesday stood and stared in her direction a moment, scowling. It was beautiful, that howl. She turned back to the embarrassed look on this girl’s face now and how her hands were balled underneath her chin.
Nodding to her, Wednesday spoke a quiet, “Thank you.”
The smile returned and then fell away when the sky cracked and rumbled. Turning to look up at the dark clouds that continued their climb forward, the girl pointed up and released a small gleeful squeal. Wednesday frowned against the sunlight and peered up, taking a few steps to stand at the girl’s side, looking to see the rainbow unfurling before that dark grey canvas.
“I love rainbows,” she told her.
Wednesday glanced at her and uttered, “I can see that.”
“It’s kind of funny,” she said simply.
Nodding, Wednesday asked, “What is?”
“How often thunderstorms and rainbows happen together.” She smiled at Wednesday, fingers, she could see, in a constant state of movement at her sides. For a moment she wondered what it would take to still them – it was dizzying and her urge to reach to hold them was one she fought angrily.
“It’s almost parasitic,” Wednesday responded darkly. “A rainbow is just an illusion caused by the sun’s rays refracting through the rain, dispersing the colors into what we see.”
The girl nudged her shoulder with her own, smiling when Wednesday looked from her shoulder and the odd warmth still lingering there up to her eyes. She was nodding slowly before telling her quietly – almost as if speaking in secret, “Maybe rainbows and storms need each other.”
“To find a balance,” Wednesday surmised.
“Oh, yes! Exactly!” The girl exclaimed, hand reaching and finally clasping around Wednesday’s in delight.
Like lightning, burning its way up her arm, through her veins to snap at her heart, sending it thumping erratically. Angrily? Happily? Wednesday wasn’t sure, but she froze.
Breath caught in her throat, Wednesday pulled her hand away and shook her head, taking a step away. She gave the girl a small shove and watched her recoil with a frown of confusion muddying the delicate features Wednesday was already trying to erase from her mind.
“Storms eat rainbows,” Wednesday barked at her, confused at the desolation she felt, seeing this other girl’s sadness.
Turning, she rushed away, towards where her mother was sitting up, peering curiously at her. “Darling,” she began softly, fingers curling around her cheeks.
“Mother, I want to leave, this is far too much…”
Morticia raised her eyes to the blonde child melting into herself next to the swings. The girl’s lips were set in a frown as she turned and pushed her hands into her pockets, head bowed as she began to walk towards a set of boys who instantly began a teasing game with her before she ran swiftly towards a station wagon to climb into.
“Dear, what’s the matter – did she trigger your allergies?” Morticia searched her child, hands roaming her fingers and then her neck, seeing nothing but the faintest blush. And a bewildered look in those dark eyes.
“There’s too much sun in California,” she growled. “And too many rainbows.”
Nodding, Morticia stood, looking to Gomez to state calmly, “Mon cher, please collect Pugsley – it seems this this visit has abruptly met its end.”
Wednesday was already making her way towards the car where Lurch opened the door so she could climb in. Stepping inside, she moved to the furthest corner, eyes peering out to find the station wagon and the blonde child leaning her head into her folded arms against the open window of the back seat. Her eyes lifted slowly, meeting hers and the fingers of her right hand fluttered open in a small wave Wednesday involuntarily mimicked.
Morticia sighed, looking between the girls as Gomez approached, Pugsley held upside-down in his arms, chuckling as he gnawed his father’s elbow. “Wednesday’s finally met a werewolf.”
“Is that why she’s overwhelmed, querida?” He smiled, teasing, “You know how she loves those beasts.”
“I don’t think she was prepared for the reality,” Morticia told him, watching the sad blue eyes that slowly disappeared from the window. “Most are kind, some even gentle.”
Gomez twisted Pugsley around and then moved into the car, hearing Lurch grunt before he started the engine. Morticia’s eyes lifted to the rainbow fading away in the darkening skies above and she smiled. Perhaps, she thought with a playful grin, they would one day meet again at Nevermore.